#wanted to make this an ask but then i wanted to add a couple of images

[yelenasbraid]

none of the bullshit — joe burrow

summary — you’re an athletic trainer with the bengals. joe’s taken a liking to you.

warnings — fem!reader, fluff, some good ol’ banter, implied smut, language, i sort of know what i’m talking about pls don’t come for me

tags — @wickedfun9 @softburrow @starsinthesky5 @joeburrowshaircurl @joeyfranchise @willowsnook @ebsmind @iosivb9 @blairsworld22 @kazsbrckkers

IT WAS COLD. Earlier, you were begging for the colder weather. The summer heat was no joke, but now, the colder winters were biting. You stood out on the practice field, layered up as best you could, keeping your eye on the players.

You were an athletic trainer for the Bengals, a damn good one you’d add. You had to put up with a lot of bullshit over the past couple of years, especially with a certain quarterback.

flashback to the summer

“This is the third time I’ve done this, Y/N. How is this helping me get anywhere?” Joe was frustrated. You’ve asked him to throw the ball the exact same way, three different times. It was his first time throwing after his injury and you were being cautious.

“You want to get out there and snap your wrist again?” You shot back, the summer heat beating down on the both of you. You didn’t have time for his complaints or his nonsense.

“No, but throwing ten yards isn’t going to do much,”

“You think I’m stupid? I know that. It’s called we’ll get there,” you chirped. His attitude was warranted, only sometimes. He saw the light at the end of the tunnel, but he thought it was closer than it really was. He also hated that you were right. Your wit has kept him sane, if he were to be honest with himself. It’s pushed him to be better, to do better.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he shook his head, going to throw the ball again.

End of flashback

You’ve watched Joe excel, watched as his wrist strengthened as he climbed the charts to be one of the best quarterbacks in the league. It was a thrill to see, even from the perspective of a witty athletic trainer.

“Cold?” you turned your head to watch a red-nosed Joe walk up to you.

“No, I’m actually sweating right now,” you sarcastically quipped, “yes I’m cold,”

“Sorry I asked,” Joe quipped, but a smirk painted his lips. He loved messing with you, mainly to see your pink cheeks and your smirk. As much as he messed with you, the feelings he had for you were very real. Having feelings for an athletic trainer wasn’t on his bingo card for the year, but here he was, never being able to pull himself from you. There was just something so magnetic about you.

“And you’re out here in shorts,” you scoffed, seeing the hoodie/jersey combo and the shorts he wore. He looked like he was taking a walk in the park when it was 50 degrees outside. It was below 30.

“It’s the high metabolism,” he came to stand next to you. He was much taller than you, and while he adored the height difference, he was well aware you could kick his ass.

“I think it’s the cockiness getting to you,” you muttered, earning a scoff from Joe.

“Wow,” he laughed, “I’ll make sure to put your name in for most supportive athletic trainer of the year,”

“Thanks, I deserve it,” you chuckled, looking up at him. He would agree with you; you did deserve it. Through his injury, the bullshit he put you through, you deserved some type of award. He wanted to be the one to give it to you, to see your face soften and your eyes widen.

“Yeah, you do,” he admitted, turning his face away from looking at you. There was a buzz between you, and you looked over at him. You watched as his breaths came out in puffs, how his cheeks, ears and nose were painted red. He wasn’t bad to look at, but you to remind yourself that you couldn’t indulge in those feelings. You’d lose your job.

You turned back to the field, feeling your heart slam against your chest. Now you were warm, your palms sweaty and your cheeks red. One of the coaches blew the whistle, signaling the end of the break and the beginning of the second half of practice.

—

Your cheeks were rosy, and you were warmer at the end of practice. You threw with Joe some more, gave him some strengthening techniques, and continued on with the banter that usually came from you both.

You grabbed your things, including a practice bag, and hoisted it on your shoulder. You looked back at Joe, who was standing with Ja’marr and Tee, a laugh spilling from his lips. He looked so cozy, so relaxed, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

You looked away, shaking your head. It wasn’t going to happen. You were an athletic trainer and he was a player, not just any player, the star player. You walked off of the field, a pep in your step as you started towards the facility.

“Boo,” you heard a voice in your ear, making you jump. You snapped your head over, and saw the towering quarterback next to you.

“Asshole,” you shoved him, your heart slamming in your chest from his scare and from him.

“Oh come on, you’re just a lil jumpy,” he teased. He liked seeing you all riled up, but he wasn’t stupid. He respected you enough to stop when you asked, or even when your body language betrayed you.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, walking next to him. He kept his pace with yours, even though it was slower due to the height difference.

As he walked next to you, he felt his stomach tie itself into knots. He usually didn’t get nervous; he was confident enough in his abilities to focus. But now? He faltered. You were beautiful, in every way, and the way you handled his antics just made his feelings ten times stronger for you.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” you hummed as you walked with him. The silence that was between you was tense, and it buzzed with unsaid feelings. What those feelings were, you couldn’t tell.

“Just thinking about all the ways to annoy you tomorrow,” he dramatically sighed, but it wasn’t completely true. He thought about you, the way your eyes sparkled in the sun, the way your face blushed under the cool weather. He found himself, at points, thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you, to have you as his.

“I knew it was preplanned,” you teased, giving him a smirk.

“Everything’s preplanned. I don’t do anything without thinking first.”

“That’s a lie,” you laughed, earning a scoff and a gentle shove from him.

“You’re supposed to support me, not break me down,” he pouted, and you mockingly pouted back.

“Aww, poor baby,” you huffed, and he only shook his head. You both neared the facility doors, and as warmth enveloped you both, so did Joe’s feelings intensify. He pursed his lips, flexing his hands as he tried to control the impulse to kiss you, to shove you against the wall and take you.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you turned to face him. It was just you two, standing in the hallway. Everyone else had gone ahead.

“Yeah?” you prompted, watching him. You picked out uncertainty in his eyes, the way his lips were tightly pressed together. Something was weighing heavy on him. But he looked at you, his eyes blank, his face pale. He forgot the words. His tongue was thick, like cotton in his mouth.

“Nothing, I’ll see you later,” he smiled, and brushed past you to the locker room. His heart hammered in his chest and his palms were sweaty. His mind was in a fog, consumed at the thought of you. He chickened out, and he’d beat himself up about it for the rest of the day.

You were left standing, confused and empty. You watched as he left, his form retreating down the hallway before he disappeared. Part of you hoped, based off of the look in his eyes, that he’d tell you that your feelings for him were reciprocated. Part of you hoped that he’d say something, but he didn’t.

You walked back to your office, a smaller room along a hallway. You unlocked your door, walking in to the warmer room. Your desk was in front of you, a window behind it, letting soft light into the room. Two guest chairs stood in front of your desk, and a small table held a coffee maker.

It was the bare minimum, but you were lucky you had an office.

You set the bag down, sitting down at your computer. You needed to write your reports, to check reports that have been submitted, but you couldn’t focus. Your mind drifted to Joe, to his eyes, to how he so easily talked to you, his arms, his thighs.

You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes.

You opened up your emails, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts of Joe. He was your coworker, not someone to become romantically involved with. No matter how he made you feel, no matter how attractive he was.

You didn’t know how much you got done, but your eyes never left your laptop until you heard a knock on your door. Your eyes lifted from your laptop, watching as Joe opened your door. His hair was wet, his skin a warm tan. He was dressed comfortably; sweats and a sweatshirt.

“What’s up?” you asked, pursing your lips.

“I just wanted to stop by before I left,” he said, stepping into your office and softly shutting the door behind him. His heart slammed against his chest. He was only ever nervous around you, except when it came to practice. He was in his element, he knew what he was doing and that distracted him from you. Now, as he stood in your office, he didn’t have his football knowledge to back him up.

“Oh,” you smiled, “is there something bothering you?” you asked him, concern furrowing your brow. You couldn’t think that Joe would come and see you for any other reason than football, or his wrist. He wouldn’t come and see you because he wanted to.

“Yeah, can you check my wrist before I go?” he asked you. He didn’t need his wrist checked. He was totally fine. He’s been fine for weeks.

“Sure, yeah,” you stood up, meeting him in the center of your office, “but I thought you’ve been fine for weeks,” you hummed as you took his extended wrist.

“I was, but it felt really tight after my shower,” he swallowed. Your soft hands against his wrist, the way your fingers gently pressed to see where his supposed pain was, it sent shocks throughout his body.

“Ok,” you hummed, turning over his wrist. You didn’t see any swelling, you didn’t feel any heat, and he didn’t react to your pressure.

“I don’t feel anything,” you told him, meeting his eyes, “there isn’t obvious pain,” you added, but as your eyes met, tension buzzed between you. Your stomach twisted, your heart skipped a beat. You fought the urge to look at his lips.

“That’s good,” he sighed, nodding his head. He could feel the tension, the way you looked at him, the way his heart skipped beats. He inhaled deeply to try and control his breathing. His free hand, with a slight tremble, reached up and caressed your cheek. His light touch sent shivers down your spine, and as much as you should fight it, you didn’t. You stepped closer to him, keeping your eyes on him.

He softly placed his lips on yours, and for a moment you stiffened. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, to do the very thing you’ve wanted to do for a while. He parted from you, feeling you stiffen.

“I’m sorry-” he was interrupted by your hands grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt, pulling his lips to yours with a hunger like no other. He immediately kissed you back, one of his hands cupping the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You tasted sweet and it made his body thrum with his need for you. The need he’s been shoving aside for months.

Your lips danced together with a roughness and passion you’ve never experienced. Your hands looped around his neck, keeping yourself as close as you could be to him. His hunger for you could be felt as his hands moved to grip your hips. He began walking you back, keeping his lips on yours. When your hips hit your desk, you gasped, and it allowed his tongue to slip into your mouth. You moaned as his tongue explored your mouth tasting more of you.

He slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He panted, his breath fanning your face.

“Is the door locked?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“I don’t know, why?”

“Because we’re gonna need it to be,” you hummed, the look in your eyes telling him all he needed to know. He’s never locked a door so fast in his life. He came back over, and smashed his lips back to yours with a newfound hunger. His fingers played with the hem of your shirt, and in that moment, you were glad that door was locked. You were also glad you were an athletic trainer; you’d need to be able to do your own stretches later when he took your ability to walk.

[autisticfaun420]

Autism and Fecal Smearing

I want to get this out of the way first so I'm just gonna say it, I struggle with this awful habit which is called diaper digging and fecal smearing, this post (and blog for that matter) I don't want to shy away from talking about this stuff. So yeah if I have a bowel accident, am frustrated/overstimulated/angry/sad, and am left alone for a few minutes I tend to do this. It's not as bad as before because I have preventative measures in place, like special onesies that make it so I can't remove my diaper myself (ughhh whatever...) and crunchy scented textured slime that my mom will add even more scent to just to make it overwhelming. The average number of episodes has been greatly reduced but I had one a couple weeks ago when my onesies were in the watch so the topic is fresh on my mind.

A lot of caregivers and autism parents are mystified and baffled by this habit and wonder why we do it. I can't speak for everyone, only myself, but to me personally the scent and texture of feces is so overwhelming and strong that I get a "high" from it. I take cannabis edibles daily and my parents let me get drunk once a month so I'll say its very comparable. I get a rush from it. My life can be so monotonous sometimes that smearing crap feels like getting away with a bank robbery, I go from extremely angry to feeling before then to like a happy giddy kid without a care in the world. I zone out so hard that I end up smearing it all over my face, walls, floor, and if it gets in my mouth I'm usually too far gone to care. I do not do it because I'm mad at my parents, I do not do it because I want to get back at them for something, I simply do it because my need for sensory input is so strong and when I'm about to go into a potentially violent meltdown I reach for the sensory nuke when my normal things to stim with just won't cut it. No high is complete without the crash and there's a crash. Seeing my parents and one of my unlucky friends SOOOOOOO unreasonably mad, it's terrifying. My parents got used to it and eventually just shrugged it off but I have heard them lose their cool over it several times and have heard my name and every cuss word in the book the room over where they clean. Not nice of them but I do not blame them one bit but the feeling inside hearing that is very real for me. I guess they got too good at shrugging it off. I had an incident where I smeared in the bathroom of one of my high school friends, very chill guy, look at me and scream at the top of my lungs, and punched a hole in the wall in the living room. I didn't know the painting he had in his bathroom was that rare but I ruined it completely and that's why he reacted that way. He could of done better but I do not blame him one bit. After that though seeing a side of that friend that I never seen before scared me into wearing the stupid onesie suit every day without fuss or a fight when before I would. Not only the suit but I have the replacement slime on me at all times, if I have a BM I tend to just pull it out and play with it. This doubles up as subtly letting my parents know I need a change, which I like cause I don't have to ask verbally which can feel kinda degrading sometimes. There is one good thing that has happened with this though. My hippie parents looked at my turd stained walls and thought I had some latent artistic talent and needed self expression and bought me art and painting supplies. They were misguided, it didn't prevent any incidents but I still took the art well. My therapist at the time had some art connections and the art I made was featured in what's known as an "outsider art" gallery. I sold a few pieces for 300-600 each. It's just a little bit bitter sweet cause if you've seen the King of the Hill episode about the Probots or just know a bit about outsider art in general, you'd know the way they market it is kind of, problematic to say the least. The gallery's artist profile for me made me out to be some kind of idiot dunce and made my parents look like heroic geniuses for spotting this talent or some shit and it's embarrassing that my artwork sold most likely cause of that over the strength of the art. Like oh wow look at this stupid R word who plays with poop his cool parents are soo smart, ughhhh. However I guess that's just the art game and I'm super proud of myself I made a couple thousand dollars of MY OWN money, it meant the world to me to have it. I'm not allowed to post my artwork on here and I wish I could share it with you on MY terms and not the gallery's but my parents are worried it could come back to my identity.

I want to end this post by saying if you engage in fecal smearing you are not stupid, broken, or filthy. You are a human being desperate for relief and you took the fastest way to get it. Shout out to all my autistic homies who smear or have smeared, I see you and you are loved.

[simp4fictionalmenandjesus]

Imagine platonic yandere batfamily with a 'shallow' reader.

To set the scene, you join the family at 15. You’re old enough to have the capability to take care of yourself, but you’re young enough to want someone to take care of you. (I’m thinking she has a wealthy-ish background, not socialite level, but she’s be the richest kid at Gotham high school (public school).) You’re the result of one of Brucie Wayne’s many love affairs that somehow slipped under the radar.

your mother was a more of a logical person, raising you to follow your brain more instead of your heart. But she still taught you to be empathetic. Unfortunately, she dies in a car accident.

Your picked up by the Wayne’s and there’s immediately hostility between you and your new family. On the background check the bats had done, most evidence was pointing to you being a shallow teenage girl.

It didn’t help that the first thing you did upon arriving to the manor was force everyone into a selfie on Snapchat. Damian had to be held back from stabbing you.

The next thing you did was ask about your allowance, and then proceed to squeal once you were handed a black card by Bruce.

Once you excitedly left to your new room, Dick reminded everyone that people grieve in their own ways.

Family dinner was painfully awkward that night. There was no way that the Wayne’s would talk to you about any bat related activities, and when Bruce tried to ask you about your hobbies, you went on a 30 minute rant about designer products.

It was like having one of Bruce’s suitors constantly around.

Everything about you was shrill, high-pitched, loud and out of touch.

It’s your lack of grief thay really gets them. At your mother’s funeral, you didn’t even shed a tear. Your speech was cantered around how your mother had accomplished a lot, but it came off more as an employee describing a boss than a daughter reminiscing over her mother. When Bruce had softly asked you if you wanted your mother buried or cremated you shrugged your shoulders. “Do whatever, I don’t care.”

Now, your family is convinced that you’re a sociopathic stereotypical mean girl.

You can’t really blame them for thinking that as how would they know about the silent tears you shed every night. Keeping a front up was taking its toll on you, and even your usual coping habit of shopping wasn’t helping you feel better as with every item you add to cart you stop yourself from finding your mother to ask for her opinion on it.

After you fall asleep in tears, you’ll wake up and force yourself to forget.

———————

(Also reader’s speech at her mother’s funeral isn’t that heartfelt because she doesn’t want to share her personal memories with a room of people who she barely knows. Those are her memories. And the idc reply to whether the body is cremated or buried is genuine, to her the body isn’t her mother anymore so whatever happens to it doesn’t matter. She’s more concerned about keeping her mother’s belongings in good shape.)

———————-

A couple of years pass and you’re graduating high school. Your grades are average and you apply for a biology degree in Metropolis University. You’re not ashamed to admit that the power of nepotism definitely helped you in.

You look in the crowd for any sign of your family, and wave happily at Alfred. Do you care that no one else showed up? Not really. You didn’t need to be love. You loved yourself to make up for any of the love you lacked.

Sure, in your first year at Wayne Manor you were upset at the fact that you were never invited to things unless they were public events. But you couldn’t really complain about it, because when you did throw a tantrum and got your way, Bruce invited you to movie night which was painfully awkward as you sat on a lone arm chair while everyone else snuggled together. And the whole night you for side eyed by everyone.

The next family movie night you were invited to, everyone cancelled.

You suppose that the Wayne's and you were too different to get along.

After attending a week long spree of parties, going on a grad trip with your friend group to Ibiza, you came home to a practically empty mansion. Alfred was the only one there.

You appreciated the butler, he was the closest thing you had to a father. He hugged you tightly, before he dropped you off at the airport to fly to metropolis.

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

A year passes, you show up to the Wayne Manor at Alfred's request. Everyone is there.

And everyone is really nice.

Huh.

---------

Yea im turning this idea into a proper fic but I'll probably make shallow reader way cyuntier.

[p0orbaby]

Request😍: y/n and alessia or leah (you decide! find your tumblr side and aaalll the stories of them. It leads to jealous alessia/leah bc of y/n being with other girls (like getting jealous when your partner cheats in your dream). Reader has to handle the situation and in the end manages to make less/leah focus on all the fluffy/spicy stuff there is about them. If you want to make it smutty (what we all love hehe): they eventually get inspired by tumblr and choose another story (you can decide which of all the good alessia/leah x reader smut on here) to reenact. Thank you!!! (If you dont want to write this feel free to repost for another writer, also you can switch the roles who is jealous, i dont care:)

i amended this a little, pls don’t hate me

it would be harsh to call this a crack fic but i honestly giggled the whole time writing it 🤭

-

You find Alessia on the sofa, her face illuminated by the blue glow of her phone screen. At first, you think she’s watching one of those oddly specific TikToks she loves—something about cats playing table tennis or an American teenager ranking their favourite crisps. But then you notice the furrow in her brow, the way her teeth tug at her bottom lip. Her expression is equal parts confusion, disbelief, and mild offence.

“Everything alright?” you ask, setting your keys on the counter.

She doesn’t answer immediately, which is a bad sign. Alessia always greets you the moment you walk through the door, even if it’s just to ask what you’ve brought for dinner. Instead, she tilts the phone slightly so you can see the screen.

“Do you know about this?” she asks, voice clipped.

You lean over, squinting at the screen. The webpage is clunky, its layout straight out of 2012, and the title reads something absurd like ‘Sunlit Smiles and Shadowed Hearts’. Your name is prominently featured in the summary, alongside a few other recognisable ones.

“It’s fanfiction,” she says, answering the question you haven’t asked yet. “About you”

You blink. “About me?”

“And other people,” she adds, her tone sharp now, like the edge of a too-clean knife.

The penny drops. “Wait—what?”

She sits up straighter, turning the phone to face you fully. “Look. This one has you with… God, Tooney. And this one—oh, this is just brilliant—you’re married to Ona. Married! Like we’re just some passing fling”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, which, given her expression, would be a tactical error. Alessia doesn’t do jealousy often, but when she does, it’s like an overdramatic romcom villain plotting their revenge.

“Well,” you say carefully, “at least they’ve got good taste?”

“Good taste?” she repeats, incredulous. “One of these has you sneaking off with Mary behind my back during a post-match interview!”

“Creative, though,” you offer.

She glares at you, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside her. “This isn’t funny”

“It’s a little funny,” you say, sitting down next to her.

“It’s not,” she insists, crossing her arms. “Do you know how many of these there are? And how many don’t have me in them at all? Like I’m just some side character in your life?”

You try to suppress the grin tugging at your lips, but it’s no use. “Less, you do realise this is all made up, right? None of it’s real”

She huffs, her cheeks pink now. “I know that. But still. It’s insulting”

You reach for her hand, gently uncrossing her arms. “Alright, let’s look at it this way. I’m obviously very popular. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not when you’re popular with everyone except me”

“Oh, come on,” you tease, squeezing her hand. “I’m pretty sure there’s stuff about us too. The fluffy, romantic, borderline inappropriate kind”

Alessia hesitates, her gaze flicking to the phone. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you say confidently. “Because we’re the superior couple. Clearly”

That earns a small smile, though she tries to hide it. “You’re an idiot”

“And yet, here I am, fully committed to proving my devotion,” you say, reaching for her phone. You type in a search, scrolling through pages until you find what you’re looking for. “See? Right here. This one’s about us”

She leans over, peering at the screen. Her eyes scan the words, and slowly, her frown starts to fade.

“This is… cute,” she admits reluctantly.

“Exactly,” you say, draping an arm around her shoulders. “So, no more being jealous of fictional versions of me, okay? They don’t get to go home with you. I do”

She turns to look at you, her expression softening further. “Fine. But I’m still not over the Mary thing”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Noted. I’ll make it up to you”

“You better,” she mumbles, but there’s no real bite to her words anymore.

It’s only later, as you’re cooking dinner together, that you catch her sneaking glances at her phone again, her lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile. If she’s reading more of those stories, you don’t mention it. Some battles are better left unpicked.

[bucktommyfluffebruary]

Welcome to BuckTommy Fluffebruary!

This event will start on February 1st and will keep us entertained throughout the whole month. There will be a prompt a day plus a list of alternative prompts that you can use when not inspired by the daily prompt.

Prompts can be interpreted however you like and everyone is welcome to share their fanwork whether it is a fanfiction, a fanart, a video edit, a gifset or whatever you fancy.

There is no minimum/maximum word count for fics and you can write as few or as many prompts as you want. Belated entries will be happily accepted as well.

All works should include Buck and Tommy as the main couple and should include fluff as the main theme.

Tag @bucktommyfluffebruary and #bucktommyfluffebruary to make sure I can see your post and reblog it. All posts will be vetted by me and I'll leave a comment to let you know when your post has been reblogged. If I haven't replied within 48 hours please send me an ask.

There will be a moderated collection on Ao3 that you can add your works to. Please make sure to tag your works properly and to mention eventual trigger warnings.

Prompts

If you have any questions don't hesitate to reach out.

[nikethestatue]

No, no, you don't understand how big this is!

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

"Why not make them mates?"

"If I were you, I would keep that question from Lucien."

"I don't want a mate. I don't want a male."

We have two individuals who outwardly question the Cauldron. Both times, to Rhysand. First it was Feyre, who is not very knowledgeable in the ways of the Cauldron and in mate bonds, not really understanding how it works. The first thing that Rhys does is that he warns her not to raise the question with Lucien, who is a newly mated male. The second thing Rhys does is that he begins to explain the ramifications of societal pressures of the mate bond and how even with terrible bonds, most couples would try to 'work it out'. And accept it. (Sounds a bit like a battered spouse syndrome. He/she will change! or 'we are staying together for the kids!')

The next time, it's Azriel who questions the Cauldron and the mate bond assignation. He says this in front of Rhys, and then Rhys--knowing that Azriel is fully aware of the SOCIETAL expectations--goes on a fairly angry rant about political ramifications.

Elain states unequivocally that she does not want a bond. She doesn't want Lucien. She doesn't want 'a male' that was given to her, and whom she did not choose. And she does not want a bond. She doesn't want to adhere to the societal expectations that the bond obligates her to.

But what's interesting is that the one person who never seems to question it is Lucien.

Something clicks for him, he realizes that Elain is his mate and he states it plainly 'You are my mate'. But he never questions it.

Even when, he clearly isn't interested in Elain. Beyond her being attractive, almost generically attractive because it's the one thing that everyone notices about her, he has no feelings but base instincts and lust. He doesn't know anything about her. Doesn't know what her likes/dislikes are. Doesn't know much about her character. Her wants and her struggles.

Lucien, regardless of his own feelings, which are ambivalent at best, just accepts it. The bond is there. He has no recourse. He has to make the best of a crappy situation, because that's what he is expected to do. How do you fight a Cauldron-given bond?

Which brings me to my point: Azriel DOES question the Cauldron. The ordained will of their deity-like item. It's one thing when Feyre questions it, because she doesn't know. It's a wholly different thing when Azriel voices his disdain for the decision. It's not entitlement. He is actually being heretical in that moment. His desire for Elain is so enormous that he is willing to question Prythian's religion and the will of a god-like thing. He isn't complaining about not having a mate. He isn't questioning 'why didn't the Cauldron grant me a mate?!!?!?"--which could be an acceptable question, akin to us questioning why haven't we found 'the one' yet. But no. He questions a very specific bond. And he dares to say 'what if the Cauldron was WRONG?' Can god made mistakes? Generally no. But in Azriel's mind, G-d made a mistake. Because it created the wrong bond for Elain. Again, he doesn't say 'why don't *I* have a bond?" He asks why was Elain given to another? He perceives it as a punishment for HER. He adds that she is not interested in Lucien. It's a burden on Elain. He doesn't say 'I', he always thinks of her. He actually views her bond as punishment. For her. And he knows what he can offer her instead. When Rhys berates him and says:

(He had never before dared speak  the words aloud.)

Rhys's face drained of color. "You believe you deserve to be her mate?"  

Azriel scowled. "I think Lucien will never be good enough for her,  and she has no interest in him, anyway." 

Azriel doesn't say 'I should've been her mate. I am better for her!' (even if he thinks that). His attention is always on her and her unhappiness. Which aligns with how he thinks of her in general--where her pleasure, her safety, her happiness are always on the forefront of his thoughts and actions.

Furthermore, 'he never DARED speak the words aloud.' It's a sentence that people don't pay enough attention to. Because this is Azriel. And he is not afraid of anything. Or anyone. He fights High Lords. He threatens them when they insult any female in his presence. He argues with his own High Lord, and his High Lady. He doesn't fear Amren. He doesn't fear the Blue Annis. He'll fly with a tree attached to his back. He will sneak into the Hybern camp. He will stand up to the King and steal something from under his nose. He sneaks into the darkest and most dangerous places in the world. He dares.

But questioning the bond and the Cauldron--he doesn't dare. That's how monumental this is.

Lucien never questions the Cauldron. Both Tamlin and Rhys sort of shrug off their parents' respective (unhappy) unions. Cassian doesn't question. Rhys certainly never thinks as to why he would be mated to a human girl.

But Azriel questions.

And that will be the story. Because what happens when the Cauldron IS wrong and you decide to go against fate and gods?

[moonlightdreamzz]

goodnight n go — yang jungwon.

🎧 ➤ goodnight n go by ariana grande

GENRE. FLUFF. down bad for eachother but can’t say it out loud. only with actions.

SUMMARY. you tell Jungwon you’ve always wondered what it’s like to do couple things during the holidays—and without hesitation, he makes it happen.

AUTHORS NOTE. this absolutely warmed my cold heart. This man evokes things out of me I wasn’t aware was still there. I’ll add a keep reading later.

“jungwon, i’m not playing with you!” you squeal loudly, nearly tripping over your own feet as you chase him around the couch. he’s laughing so hard it’s a miracle he hasn’t dropped your phone yet. “damnit, jungwon!”

“you must have been—” he dodges left, then right, “looking at something—” he darts into the kitchen, “real embarrassing to be chasing me like this!”

he finally stops near the counter, grinning from ear to ear and completely unfazed by the fact that you’re out of breath and glaring daggers at him. “i wonder what it could be.” he questions in dramatic fashion, his finger poking his chin repeatedly as he looks into nothingness.

“jungwon,” you warn, hands on your hips, but it’s too late. his eyes land on the screen, and a mix of confusion and amusement washes over his face.

“gingerbread houses?” he says, reading the search history aloud. “how much does a gingerbread house cost?”

you freeze, your face instantly heating up. “give that back!”

he ignores you, his expression shifting into something so genuinely curious it’s almost infuriating. “why were you looking this up? are you suddenly into architecture? or… are you planning to eat an entire gingerbread house by yourself?”

you snatch the phone from his hand, groaning as you clutch it to your chest. “no, it’s not like that.”

“then what’s it like?” he asks, leaning casually against the counter. you so badly want to be upset with him, but his dimpled smile beaming in your face is making it impossible.

you let out a sigh, deciding it’s better to just explain than deal with his endless teasing. “it’s something couples do during christmas,” you mumble.

his brow furrows slightly, and he tilts his head. “couples?”

“yeah,” you say, shifting awkwardly under his gaze. “you know, building gingerbread houses together, wearing matching pajamas, taking cringy pictures… that kind of stuff.”

he’s staring at you now, his amusement fading into something softer, something more thoughtful. “and you wanted to do that?”

“i mean…” you shrug, trying to play it off. “i thought about it. but since i don’t exactly have the other half of the couple, i figured maybe i’d just do it by myself. pajamas and all.”

jungwon doesn’t respond right away. he’s just looking at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes that makes your stomach flip.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know what you and jungwon truly have going on. but it’s not for lack of clarity—it’s for lack of courage. because deep down, you both know. you know it in the way his eyes linger on you a little too long, in the way he remembers every offhanded comment you make, in the way your heart races whenever he smiles at you like you’re the only person in the room.

you weren’t entirely sure at first. jungwon’s the kind of guy who’s sweet to everyone, with a charm that feels effortless. it was easy to convince yourself that the way he treated you was just…him being him. until one day, you casually mentioned hanging out with another guy—a friend from work who’d been pestering you about grabbing coffee. you hadn’t thought much of it, but jungwon froze mid-bite of his ramen, chopsticks hovering in the air like the universe had suddenly paused.

“who?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual, but the furrow in his brows betrayed him.

you laughed, not understanding why he looked so confused. “just a friend,” you said, shrugging it off.

“a friend?” he repeated, his voice pitching slightly higher. he placed his chopsticks down, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “what kind of friend?”

you blinked at him, unsure why he was grilling you like this. “the normal kind? what other kind is there?”

he narrowed his eyes. “the kind that wants something more.”

your stomach flipped at the implication, but you played it cool. “what does it matter to you?”

jungwon’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something. but then he just sighed, shaking his head. “it doesn’t,” he muttered, picking up his chopsticks again.

except it did. you could see it in the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes for the rest of the meal, the way he suddenly got quieter. it was like he couldn’t bring himself to say it, but the weight of what he felt was written all over his face.

and that’s when you knew.

but knowing and saying it out loud are two very different things.

so you kept hanging out, like you always did. no labels, no confessions—just spending time together, letting the unspoken feelings linger in the air between you. and maybe that’s why it works. because neither of you feels the need to rush. you’re slowly falling for each other, piece by piece, day by day.

“what?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“nothing,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shakes his head. “you’re just… funny.”

you frown. “funny how?”

“i don’t know,” he says, pushing off the counter and walking past you to the living room. “you just are.”

you follow him, phone still clutched in your hand, watching as he flops onto the couch like he didn’t just say something cryptic.

“so, what do you want to eat?” he asks, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels like the conversation you just had didn’t happen.

your brows knit together. “that’s it? you’re not gonna say anything else about the gingerbread houses?”

he glances at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “what else is there to say? if you want to build a gingerbread house, build one. who cares if it’s cringey?”

all you can do is flip him off before plopping down beside him.

a lazy grin rests on his face. “so, food? yes? no?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps onto yours. “yes. but we’re getting my favorite after the distress you just put me though, twin.”

a couple of days pass, and life goes on in its usual rhythm. jungwon texts you here and there, nothing out of the ordinary. it’s a mix of random memes, updates on whatever he’s doing, and the occasional “you up?” when he’s bored at night. but tonight, his message feels different.

jungwon: what are you doing tonight?

your heart skips a beat, even though you’re not entirely sure why. it’s not like it’s weird for him to ask. still, the question makes your stomach do this weird, excited flip.

you: nothing really. why?

his reply comes almost immediately.

jungwon: i’m coming over. be ready in an hour.

you: should I be afraid?????

he doesn’t answer. instead, you’re left staring at your phone, trying to figure out what he’s up to.

an hour later, there’s a knock at your door, and when you open it, jungwon is standing there with a ridiculously large bag in one hand and a takeout bag in the other. he’s grinning, that dimpled smile lighting up his face, and you feel your heart do that thing again.

“what’s all this?” you ask, stepping aside to let him in.

“you’ll see,” he says, kicking off his shoes and heading straight to your living room like he owns the place.

you follow him, watching as he sets everything down on the coffee table. first, he pulls out two gingerbread house kits, complete with icing, candy, and all the little decorations. then, he pulls out a set of matching pajamas—red and white with little snowflakes printed all over them.

“jungwon…” you say, your voice trailing off as you take it all in.

“and your favorite,” he adds, holding up the takeout bag with a triumphant smile.

you blink at him, completely caught off guard. “what… what is all this?”

he shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the way he avoids your eyes. “you said you wanted to do all that cringey couple stuff for christmas, right? so… let’s do it.”

your chest tightens, a mix of disbelief and something softer, warmer. “you actually remembered that?”

“of course, i remembered,” he says, finally looking at you. “i remember everything you say.”

for a moment, you don’t know what to say. it’s such a small gesture, but it feels like so much more. like he’s showing you, in his own quiet way, how much he cares.

“you’re so weird,” you say, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“says the girl who was going to eat a whole gingerbread house by herself…” he trails, his face making an expression that says sureeeee. he sits down on the floor and pats the spot next to him.

“kiss it.” you mutter, rolling your eyes playfully.

“kiss what?” his eyes widen.

“my ass.” you slap your behind for dramatic effect—the sound echoing off your walls. did it hurt? yes. would you let him see that? no. jungwon’s eyes widen, and for the first time, he’s the one that’s frozen and unable to form a sentence. it’s only for a mere second though before he realizes his usually cool demeanor vanished. he shakes his head, as if he’s trying to remove the effect of your words and rubs the tips of his ears that are tinted pink.

anyone else wouldn’t have caught it. but it was you, so you did.

the jungwon, that jungwon wants everyone else to see, starts unpacking the gingerbread kits. you can’t help but steal a glance at him. there’s something about the way he’s so nonchalant about all of this, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to show up at your place with matching pajamas and your favorite food.

“so,” he says, breaking the silence. “are you ready to lose? because my gingerbread house is going to be way better than yours.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “we’ll see about that.”

jungwon carefully tears open the packet of icing, his brows furrowing in concentration. “you have to massage the icing bag first, you know. to warm it up,” he says, squeezing it between his hands like a professional baker.

you raise an eyebrow. “oh, so you’re a gingerbread house expert now?”

he looks up at you with mock seriousness. “obviously. you’re looking at the reigning champion of the 6th grade holiday fair. i crushed the competition.

“wow, i’m so intimidated,” you deadpan, ripping open your own icing packet with way less finesse than him.

he leans over slightly, just close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne—subtle, clean, and entirely too distracting. “you should be,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt in his voice.

you roll your eyes, but there’s a warmth spreading in your chest. this is how it always is with jungwon—light, playful, easy. but underneath all the teasing, there’s something softer.

“okay, watch and learn,” he announces, picking up one of the gingerbread walls and carefully piping a line of icing along the edge. “this is how you lay a solid foundation.”

“foundation?” you scoff. “it’s a gingerbread house, not a skyscraper.”

“and that’s why you’re going to lose,” he replies smugly, pressing the pieces together with meticulous precision.

you pretend to be unimpressed, but you’re secretly charmed by how seriously he’s taking this. as you attempt to glue your own walls together, one of them immediately collapses, the icing smearing all over your hands.

“oh, no,” you groan, holding up your sticky fingers.

jungwon looks over and snickers. “what happened to ‘it’s just a gingerbread house’?”

“shut up and help me,” you grumble, trying to balance the pieces with one hand while reaching for the icing with the other.

he scoots closer, his knee brushing against yours as he steadies the walls for you. “you have to hold it like this,” he says, his voice low as his hands gently guide yours.

the proximity makes your heart stutter, but you do your best to play it cool. “you’re just trying to sabotage me so yours looks better,” you accuse, glancing up at him.

his eyes meet yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything. there’s a flicker of something unspoken in his gaze, something that makes your breath catch.

“maybe,” he says softly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

you clear your throat, breaking the moment. “well, it’s working. i can’t focus with you this close.”

“then i guess i’ll stay right here,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on you a little too long.

you huff, turning your attention back to your gingerbread house. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet, here i am,” he quips, settling back into his spot but staying close enough that your shoulders still brush occasionally.

as the night goes on, the competition turns into chaos. jungwon gets icing on his nose at some point, and you laugh so hard you accidentally knock over one of his walls. he retaliates by flicking a piece of candy at you, which starts an all-out candy war.

“truce!” you finally gasp, holding up your hands in surrender.

“only if you admit my house is better,” he says, his dimples on full display.

you roll your eyes but lean in closer, inspecting his work. “it’s not bad,” you admit, reaching out to straighten one of the candy canes on the roof.

your hand lingers a moment too long, and you realize just how close you are to him. he’s watching you, his expression soft, like he’s seeing something he can’t quite put into words.

“what?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

“nothing,” he says, but the way he looks at you says everything.

the moment stretches, filled with a warmth that feels almost tangible. and though neither of you says it out loud, it’s there in the way he gently nudges your shoulder, in the way you lean into him without even thinking.

“so,” you say, breaking the silence with a grin. “are you going to admit that i won?”

“pictures or it didn’t happen,” jungwon declares, pulling out his phone and snapping a dramatic photo of his gingerbread house. “look at this masterpiece. the symmetry, the structure—pure genius. i think i could sell this design.”

you lean over, squinting at the screen. “symmetry? jungwon, one of your candy canes is literally sliding off the roof. are you going for a modern look or just chaos?”

he gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just mortally wounded him. “chaos? this is art, y/n. you just don’t get it.”

“right,” you drawl, crossing your arms but fighting back a smile. “you keep telling yourself that.”

jungwon shakes his head, clearly unimpressed with your critique. “okay, then let’s get the artist and the critic in one shot. come on.”

“what? no.” you lean back, shaking your head as he switches his phone to selfie mode.

“yes,” he insists, already angling the phone to get both of you and your gingerbread houses in frame. “this is for the archives. future generations need to know who built these masterpieces.”

“future generations are going to laugh at yours,” you shoot back, but you lean in anyway.

jungwon tilts the phone slightly, and you realize how close you are when your cheek almost brushes his. your laughter dies down, replaced by a warmth that makes your stomach flutter.

“okay, smile,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost like he’s talking to himself.

you glance at him instead of the camera, and for a split second, you wonder if he’s feeling the same thing you are.

then he snaps the picture and grins, pulling you out of your thoughts. “perfect,” he says, showing you the photo.

it’s cute. annoyingly cute. and the way his arm is casually slung around your shoulders doesn’t help the situation.

“all right, we’re done,” you announce, trying to shake off the tension.

jungwon raises an eyebrow. “done? we’re just getting started.” he uploads the picture to his finsta without hesitation, captioning it: couples who build together stay together.

your jaw drops, and you swat at him. “jungwon, what the hell?!”

he laughs, easily dodging you. “relax, y/n. it’s just my finsta. nobody cares.”

“oh, nobody cares? what about the word couples, huh?!” your voice pitches slightly, your face warming.

“what about it?” he counters, his expression too calm for your liking.

you pause, trying to think of a response, but the weight of the moment settles between you again.

“i—whatever,” you mutter, turning your attention back to the gingerbread kits to avoid looking at him.

jungwon watches you for a moment before grabbing his phone again. “okay, now let’s do this properly,” he says, standing up and heading toward the makeshift tripod he set up.

“do what properly?”

“matching pajamas, full couple vibes,” he explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “you wanted the experience, right?”

you huff but head to your room to change. when you come back, jungwon is already posing dramatically, pretending to lean on his gingerbread house like it’s a prize-winning sculpture.

“wow, someone’s really feeling himself,” you tease, but you can’t help smiling.

he flashes you his dimpled grin. “well, someone has to make this night memorable. now, get over here.”

you join him, and as the camera clicks away, you feel yourself relaxing again.

“these pictures better not end up anywhere else,” you warn as he scrolls through the shots.

jungwon just hums, clearly not listening, before setting his phone down. “hey,” he says suddenly, his voice softer now.

“what?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“thanks for letting me crash your night,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “i know this was kind of random.”

“are you kidding?” you laugh lightly. “you showed up with food, matching pajamas, and gingerbread houses. i should be thanking you.”

he meets your eyes then, and for a moment, it feels like the air is too thick to breathe. the playful banter fades, leaving only the unspoken tension that’s been building for weeks.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, but jungwon beats you to it.

“do you want to watch a movie or something?” he asks, his voice casual, like he’s trying to defuse the moment.

you nod, swallowing hard. “yeah. a movie sounds good.”

jungwon settles onto the couch first, stretching out like like a baby . “come here,” he says, opening his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

your breath catches. you’ve sat close to him before—legs over his lap, arms brushing, sharing blankets during movie nights. but this? this is new.

“you sure?” you ask, your voice quieter than you mean it to be.

he gives you a look, half amused, half serious. “i wouldn’t have asked if i wasn’t.”

with a small nod, you sit beside him, easing into his arms like you’ve been doing this your whole life. his chest is warm and steady beneath your cheek, and you can feel his heartbeat—a calm, unhurried rhythm that contrasts the storm swirling in your own.

you don’t realize how tired you’ve been until you let yourself relax against him. maybe it’s the rush of the evening catching up to you, or maybe it’s just jungwon. he has this way of making you feel safe, like nothing else in the world matters when you’re with him.

his fingers trace absent patterns along your arm, sending a quiet hum of comfort through your body. you yawn, trying to hide it, but jungwon chuckles softly.

“sleepy already?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

“shut up,” you mumble into his hoodie, your words muffled but not entirely untrue.

he doesn’t respond, just pulls you closer, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.

the world narrows to this—his warmth, his scent, the way his chest rises and falls beneath you. you don’t even notice when your eyes flutter shut, the exhaustion winning over.

a moment passes, or maybe more. you’re not sure how long you’ve been drifting when you feel it—a gentle, almost hesitant pressure against your forehead.

you stir slightly, but you don’t open your eyes.

then, the kiss comes again. firmer this time, confident. jungwon’s lips linger just long enough to make your heart skip.

your eyes flutter open, and the world feels softer somehow, like everything has shifted in the quietest, most significant way. jungwon’s face is close, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling.

you don’t know who moves first. maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you. but the space between you disappears, and suddenly, his lips are on yours.

it’s soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, but when you kiss him back, the hesitance melts away. the kiss deepens, slow and sweet, carrying the weight of every unspoken word, every stolen glance, every moment that’s led to this.

when you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing a little harder, a little shakier.

“so,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “does this mean i won the gingerbread competition?”

jungwon chuckles softly, his fingers brushing against yours. “yeah,” he says, his voice warm and steady. “but i think i won something better.”

your heart stutters, his words washing over you like a confession wrapped in simplicity. you meet his gaze, and the way he’s looking at you—soft, steady, and so sure—makes it hard to breathe.

you don’t reply, because what could you possibly say? instead, you lean in, closing the space between you, your lips finding his again. it’s unhurried, sweet, and everything you’ve been too afraid to admit until now.

[starhvney]

a requester asked: Travis, Garroth, Laurance, and Gene from MCD with tea, cream, and pumpkin bread. If that works! If it makes any sense star, have an amazing day and don’t overwork yourself!!!

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟗: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: romantic tension, fluff, teaching/training/mentoring a skill

𝐚/𝐧: i LOVED this one hehe thanks for requesting, and have an amazing day/night! i’ll try not to overwork myself hhahahash but we shall see

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to go so hard back there…” Travis winces as he sits on a suitable log, holding up his arm to look at the deep cut he’d acquired in your sparring match.

“I’m really sorry,” you genuinely apologize, sitting next to him. “I thought you were paying attention to my swing.”

“I guess I was distracted by something…” He bites his lip, a fox-like grin spreading on his face that puts his fanged canines on display. “But, ah… I’ve had much worse than this, don’t worry.”

It doesn’t ease much of your guilt, and you reach to gently hold his arm–inspecting it with a frown.

“...If you really want to apologize, why don’t you patch me up?” he suggests, pulling his pack from his back and setting it in your lap.

“I don’t really know how to that well,” you hesitate, eyes wide when he pulls out a needle and thread, setting it in your hands as he wipes the blood from his wound with a clean cloth.

“Then I’ll teach you,” he grins. “I only need a few anyways. It should be easy to do.”

“Uh…”

“Trust me. You’re not gonna hurt me anymore than you already did, beautiful,” he leans closer, eyes lidded as his face hovers near yours.

“I’ll add another cut,” you warn, and the impish man backs away with a chuckle.

“Alright! I can take a hint,” he places his uninjured hand over his chest theatrically. “Even though it hurts.”

He points down at his wound, giving you a pouted lip. “Now, could the pretty woman please grace my wounds with her touch before I bleed out?”

You situate the thread and needle in your hands, feeling nervous again. “Okay… how should I do this?”

“Just carefully thread it through the first couple layers of skin there and pull. Not too deep that out hurts but also not too shallow that it doesn’t hold,” he explains, leaning over you as you carefully do as he says. “Then loop it around there and pull gently… not too tight but enough to connect the skin together again.”

He only winces a bit as he talks, seeming used to the pain. He was right, only a few stitches were needed before the wound was closed, and the healing ointment and bandages he also had in his pack made finishing the job rather quick and easy.

“How’d you learn this?” you ask, as you finish tying it off the end of the bandage. 

“Well, not many doctors would accept the son of the Demon Warlock,” he says quietly. “After so many failed attempts of doing it on your own, you eventually learn.”

A wave of sadness washes over you at the admission, the image of a younger version of Travis in pain and tears as he fails to nurse his own injuries heartbreaking to think about. Green eyes dart over your face when you remain speechless, and the man quickly jumps to his feet.

“But! Now you and I both know their technique, so what good are they for anyways?” With his hand held out, he bows to you, offering help to bring you to your feet.

You take it, standing with a quiet sigh.

“Hey, don’t look so upset. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been now that such a fine-looking face worried over me.”

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

Your breath creates steam in the cold air as you stand in front of the dummy, the burlap sacks sliced and stabbed in several places; causing their hay insides to spill onto the ground. Despite the cold, you were warmed up from how long you’d been training with the head guard today, and you’d even shed a layer of your heavy clothing in the process.

Of course, the man in charge of your combat lesson naturally ran hotter than you, so you were both blessed and subjected to his upper half only to be covered by his linen undershirt. Every time he’d demonstrate a way he wanted you to swing or how to change your footwork, your eyes would drift to the thick muscles that pulled against his sleeves and stretched the material over his chest.

Truly, it wasn’t your fault! He was tall enough that those assets happened to be directly within your line of sight, so if anything it was his fault for… being so tall and muscular!

“…No, that’s not what I showed you…” Garroth sighs gently when you once again mess up your stance. Seeming as you hadn’t been paying close attention to his feet when he’d given you a demonstration, you were a bit lost when he put you on the spot.

Walking up to your side, strong arms come around either side of you as he adjusts your grip, his leg coming between yours to push your feet out. You have to stop yourself from letting your jaw fall completely to the floor, the proximity of the man towering over you nearly scrambling any semblance you had left to remain professional.

“You seem distracted today. Are you feeling well?” He asks as he steps away, a concerned look in his eye as he looks over your face.

“Um… no, I’m perfectly fine…” You chuckle nervously, dipping your sword a bit as you scold yourself for your obviousness.

“Are you sure?” he frowns, strong hand landing on your shoulder and squeezing in an act of comfort. It only heats your skin on fire, sending your thoughts reeling. “We can take a break, if you need to.”

“No. I’m alright,” you breathe. “Let’s continue.”

“…Alright, then let’s change from practicing offense to defense,” he gives in to your insistence, walking over to pick up a shield and place it on your arm.

The distance he puts between you a moment later gives you a moment to breathe, but not before he’s readying himself to attack. A sense of panic takes over you as you move to ready yourself, his nod for your short spar to begin coming all too soon.

He charges, and in one swipe the shield is immediately knocked from your hands, the force of his strength immediately overtaking you. You stumble back, and you’re sure you’re set to fall right down on your back as your feet lose their balance.

With a yelp, you tense for the impact, but you only fall for a split second before a hand tightly wraps around your arm. His sword dully falls against the training ground dirt before his other hand shoots your other side, pulling you up in a quick motion to your feet.

Briefly, you’re pressed against his chest, his heart racing against your ear and arms wrapping around you to hold you steady. He’s warm, so warm, that you almost forget the reason he was holding you in the first place. The brief sense of his strong muscles pressed against you is taken away when he pulls you back enough to get a good look at you.

His eyes are wide, unblinking, darting across your form and checking for injuries. “I think… this has been enough training for today. Are you okay?”

You manage a nod, focused in on the rising blush against his ears and cheeks. “Yes.”

“…Good. Now, how about I treat you to a meal?”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

“One thing Garroth hasn’t taught you is the art of smooth-talking,” Laurance leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. The calm breeze of the day rushed past the two of you as you sat on the edge of the guard tower, looking out on the village. “It can get you out of any sticky diplomatic situation.”

You cross your arms, humming with a raised brow. “Ah, yes. Something you know all about, huh?”

“I’d never deceive you if that’s what you’re implying,” he says with an offended gasp. “By my honor!”

You can’t help but laugh, turning away to attempt to hide it from him to no avail. When you turn back, he’s looking at you with a soft gaze and quirked lip. He hums, smile widening as he watches your eyes dart away shyly.

“I’m serious, though,” he starts, tilting his head at you with an intent look. “I don’t want you to be in a situation where simply swinging your sword around isn’t going to work and you end up in trouble.”

You deadpan.

“Are you saying I’m a brute or are you insulting my ability to communicate?”

He tilts his head back, hearty laughter dancing into the air as a hand reaches up to his stomach. “Neither! Though if you were a brute you sure are the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.”

For everything that is good, he really can never let up on his flirting, can he? You lower your head, giving him a glowering look at his insistent teasing within every sentence he utters to you. It wasn’t fair to your poor heart, as it betrayed you with its quick beating in your chest. The way you were never able to fully gain your composure next to him was entirely frustrating.

“Will you continue to display how good you are at smooth talk or are you going to teach me?”

A snort leaves his lips. “Well your methods of intimidation need some work, too-”

You swing, narrowly missing his arm before he scoops your hands up in his. “Hey now! What did I just say about using words over violence? Not off to a good start, huh?”

He softens his smile, lowering your hands. “You have to be personable. To play on the other’s weakness to get the answer you want. I’ll give you an example.”

With a subtle tilt of his head and a pleading lift of his lashes, the man leans forward, his voice softening. “My lady, your forced indifference wounds me to my very core. Can’t you consider my advances as genuine?”

Your body betrays you once again as a rush of blood rises to your cheeks. You’re quick to look away, attending your focus back on the village below you.

“Does that work on most ladies?”

“Oh my, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” he moves his head to get a better look at your expression, his eyes eating up the slight pout on your lips. “I hope you know the only woman I have eyes for is you…”

You don’t respond, and he forms his own answer with an almost giddy smile. He’s quick to return to his suave demeanor only a moment later. “I see. Well, what’s your response? Give me your best shot.“

His smug reaction is enough to make your pride stubbornly rear its head. So you turn to him again, eyes narrowed and face coming only inches from his as you give a similar look that he’d given you only a moment prior.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t keep teasing and distracting me on the job,” you whisper scoldingly. “Don’t you think it’s unfair to a subordinate to tempt them all the time from wanting to do anything but their assignment?”

The smug look is replaced with a look of awe and an almost unnoticeable hitch of air caught in his throat. He dares to lean in closer, eyes longing as they drift down to your lips, his own parting for a moment before he clears his throat, leaning back again.

“Ah, good job,” he smirks, though his cheeks are flushed. “Consider me charmed. Though, I already was, so how fair of an assessment can I give…?”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

Wind rushes by your ears as you sprint further into the forest, your breaths quick as you stare down at the ground ahead of you, your feet searching for the quietest part of the ground to step on. Still, the leaves and twigs crunch under your boots, and your lungs loudly gasp for air–the noise echoing off the trees around you.

A large tree looks promising ahead, the trunk wide enough for you to side behind if only for a moment to rest. Your hand meets the rough bark as you swing around to the other side, pressing your back flat against it. 

In nature, animals and bugs can sense when there’s a shift in the normalcy of their small lives. They can feel when the energy shifts; when there’s something dangerous nearby. A predator. Something that wasn’t meant to be there.

You can feel it too.

Even if you didn’t, the nature around you gives plenty of warning. There’s no bird chatter or the distant rustling of bushes as critters search for a snack. Eerie silence save for the rushing of blood in your ears settles over, sending a fearful spike of adrenaline through your legs. You can’t tell if it was going to make you take off in another spurt of energy or if it would make you collapse down onto the bed of grass beneath you.

There’s not much time for you to decide which it is before an almost intentional snap of a twig under what could only be a person’s foot sounds from your left. You quickly twist your neck to look, only to be met with more empty forest before your eyes.

A breath brushes against your right ear, low and amused—and most definitely meant to startle you. Arms snatch around your torso, lifting you into the air and against a built chest as you yelp in surprise.

“You, my dear, are not very good at this.” Gene’s lips press against your ear; his breath unnervingly hot.

You swallow, gasping for air while your feet dangle in the air. Your heart feels like it’s going to leap straight out from your throat with every quick harsh beat, making you dizzy as the chase concludes.

“I made it pretty far.” you gasp, pointing your toes to the ground and still unable to gain footing.

“Yet all of the strategies I’ve shown you were nowhere to be found. I could hear you from a mile away, pretty.”

“It’s not fair, you have an advantage by nature…”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he slowly sets you down, though his arms still keep you trapped against him.

“That’s true… but I don’t know… I’ve been teaching you these techniques all week and you still haven’t caught on at all,” He muses in a teasing tone, grabbing your chin and tilting you up to look at him. “Maybe I just need to follow you around forever to guard you from attacks.”

His dark eyes dance between blue and red, both deep in hue like blood spilling into the deep ocean. It’s dangerously mesmerizing, entrancing despite your very nature fighting against it. A lithe finger taps against your cheek when you don’t offer him any response, his head tilting at you as his tongue runs over his teeth. 

“Hm? Is that it? Should I never let you out of my hands?” He suggests, voice bordering something possessive, or maybe an emotion that ran indescribably further down than that. “Maybe you want that.”

A second passes before he lets you go, gently shoving you ahead. “One more. I’ll give you a longer head start this time.”

“H-huh?” you pant, turning around with wide eyes to look at him as he leans against the tree, not looking worn or phased at all. “Right now?”

“One… two…”

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz @vyladsgirl @allieyaaa

[twopoppies]

Gina, I want to tell you I have been reading your blog for a couple years now. I’ve never sent an ask to anyone. I first came into the fandom when I watched Harrychella and I thought hmm this man isn’t just flagging he is screaming at the top of his lungs. Then I watched the Cosmic Leeds videos and I fell down a rabbit hole. I am not someone who believes “conspiracy theories”. I am however old enough to know closeting has been proven to exist in the entertainment industry. I’m also from a rural area of the U.S. where homophobia is the norm, so unfortunately I had no trouble believing closeting still exists. I went into full information gathering mode about Larry Stylinson, but it was more than that too. I fell in love with 1D and all the boys’ solo work, especially Louis. I loved his voice, his songwriting, and his ‘real’ personality (when he allowed it to shine through all the media training). I read through every tumblr I could, you and Daisie provided a wealth of information that can not be ignored. I feel certain that Larry was real and I hope they are still together. I’m not one of those people who never doubted. It would be hard not to second guess things in this fandom with all the gaslighting that goes on. I write all of this to say that I’ve never felt so sad and like there is no hope for change as I do right now. It feels like Louis’ fandom is falling apart. There is so much division, hate, and intolerance of any idea that doesn’t conform to someone’s own. Louis pr strategy honestly baffles me. A divided fandom is so tiring. It seems less like pr and more like intentional sabatoge, which I guess it could be. I just don’t see any way out for him or Harry. I think Harry’s extended break is partly because of this too. I think he was overworked and emotionally drained for many reasons, but closeting most of all is exhausting. If I’m feeling this way as a fan I can’t imagine how they must be feeling. It breaks my heart. Sometimes I hope I am crazy and Larry was never real because the story is just too sad. Don’t even get me started on bbg because it is the shittiest situation ever. I think I need to take a step back from the fandom for a bit. But this brings me to my point. I’m pretty resilient, I can not be the only person feeling this way. It makes me so worried for Louis’ career and for both Louis and Harry’s mental health. I guess I don’t really have an ask. I just wanted to say thank you for all the information you have provided over the years. And, I needed to get this off my chest. If I posted this on twitter I would be roasted and I’m not strong enough for that right now. I meant it when I said I fell in love with their music, so I will continue to support all the boys. I’m hoping there is a master plan that will eventually set them free. But, I just keep coming back to the line

‘Said I had a plan for us Time had came and changed it all We had to disappear 'Cause nothing gets through here’

I will add one more thing. I believe there are more Larries than people think, but we are tired of the gaslighting and the hate, so many of us step back or hide. This is why the industry wins most of the time. 😥

Hi, sweetheart. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I'm sorry it feels so overwhelming right now. I do think taking a step back is probably really healthy for most of us. I've actually never seen the fandom in such shambles.

I don't know what Louis' plan is in terms of his fandom or his future plans. But I have dozens and dozens of sad, confused, and angry messages in my inbox, and that fucking sucks. I really don't see a way forward at the moment. I will say, though, that some of the upset stems from some people's tendency to lean into worst-case scenarios and amplify their own worries by jumping to conclusions. Then there are the shit-stirrers who try to make things worse by sending in fake receipts or theories. It's hard to stay grounded when there's insanity whirling around you.

As for Harry and Louis, I do tend to believe they're still together. I don't think their relationship has been as easy as many of us would like to believe – I don't think it could be, given their ages when they met and the conditions they've had to live with. I do think they're soulmates... soulmates don't always end up together, but I tend to think these two will make it. I certainly hope they do.

Our fandom never does well when the boys aren't active. I think if you want to get your sanity back, now is as good a time as any.

[joaosnovia]

4th times the charm (atp i’m js saying anything) gavi gets transported to morocco for a game, BUT while he’s there thru the shops he sees this BEAUTIFUL moroccan princess and they fall in love 😻🙏

❦ - stadium lights in casablancan nights

summary: gavi is called for international duty against morocco and finds love in the stands.

warnings: none!! however there’s a slight plot chance that was dmed to me afterwards xx

writers note: i love this idea and don’t ‘4th times the charm’ me mate your last 3 requests were diabolical?? who would read culpa mia but w gavi and snow white but gavis the princess?? 😭😭 also did someone say overwriting 😱

word count: 2k

The overwhelming roar of the crowd in Casablanca’s Mohammed V Stadium was quite deafening, but that made gavis pulse raise even more. His heart raced not because of nerves, but for the fact that he wants to prove himself. Back in the world cup 2022 he scored a goal against costa rica that showed that he wasn’t just another kid from la masia, he was truly a star. However, a few matches later his first world cup dream came to a crash. Round of 16 vs morocco.

As the anthems faded to an end and the refs whistle blew, he jogged into place and let the game get into its usual rhythm, clear chances, passes, tackles and fouls. And there it was. a goal! Perfect goal may i add by lamine yamal. The stadium erupted into cheers as gavi made his way to the corner flag to celebrate with his teammate, not only internationally but from his club that’s always been by his side.

However, this wasn’t just a normal celebration, something pulled his gaze upwards, and that’s when he saw it, her. Throughout the wave of opposing fans, one face stood out to him, a gorgeous girl, hands gripping the railing with her jaw dropped. It was obvious she wasn’t cheering for spain though, her kit and flag proved that inference. Yet her gaze found his, holding it for longer than it should’ve.

Eventually, half time pulled around as gavi made his way to the locker room. But that didn’t stop him from looking for her though. She hadn’t moved from that spot, instead she was stood up, laughing with her friends leaning against that very same railing, but her focus wasn’t on her friends. Her gaze was on the pitch, as if she was looking for something, making gavi wonder if it’s him that she’s looking for.

Pedri, who was standing right next to him, nudged him and said, ‘Focus hermano, she’s way out of your league.’, in a teasing tone, making gavi smirk but no response came out of him. He knew this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross.

The final whistle blew, the score ending in a 2-1 narrow victory to Spain, with players exchanging handshakes and shirts. Even though they had a successful match, that didn’t shift his mind from the mystery girl, his eyes shifting to her every couple of minutes.

After plucking up the courage to approach her, he noticed her still laughing with her friends, her smile lighting him up.

Without giving it a second thought, he jumped over the barrier, passing security and approached her. Some may call him cocky for the confidence but she noticed and found it amusing that he tried to get her attention. Although security refused to let him get any closer, he ushered her to come closer, and she complied, with her friends teasing her.

‘Hola, did you enjoy the match?’, he asked in almost a whisper to avoid attention from others.

She tilted her head, and her lips formed into a smile, laughing to herself and replied with, ‘Even though Spain won? I guess so’ she said in a playful tone, with her soft accent coming out.

They exchanged names however it caught Gavi off guard.

‘Wait you don’t know my name?’ asked Gavi in an almost concerned tone.

‘No, I know your name.. I just wanted to hear you say it.’ she said, her soft smile widening.

‘Gavi’ he said, chuckling, in a quiet voice.

Her friends called her from behind and she glanced back, reluctant to leave. ‘Looks like I have to go..’ she said.

‘Wait.’ Gavi said quickly, removing his shirt, and handed it to her, the faint smell of grass clinging to it. ‘Something to remember this match by.’

She took the shirt, her fingers brushing his for a small second, ‘Gracias, Gavira.’ she said, making his heart race.

There was one thing he knew for certain, he had to see her again.

The next few days in Casablanca was an absolute blur for him, media videos, training sessions and team meeting, but she couldn’t get out of his mind. Her smile, her laugh and how her gaze lasted for longer than even she wanted it to.

That’s when he realised, it wasn’t the match, it was her.

After hours of practice, the team had some downtime before their flight back to Madrid. Gavi found himself roaming the streets with Pedri, just so he didn’t seem like a loner.

‘So you’re really attached to this girl, hermano?’, asked Pedri almost with genuine concern.

Gavi sighed and yet again, didn’t have a reply for that and continued walking.

That’s when he saw her, for the second time, except she was alone in a small cafe.

He hesitated for a moment, Pedri staying outside, as Gavi made his way over.

‘Mind if i join?’ he asked, grabbing a chair from a nearby table.

She looked up, surprised as a smile was spread across her face. ‘Gavi’ she said ‘How come you’re not with your team?’

‘I mean, I was..’ he said, taking a seat opposite her. ‘But I figured i’d explore some more. Seems like I found the right place’

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. ‘So you spend your free time chasing random girls that you see during matches?’

He smirked, leaning back into the chair, ‘Only the interesting ones.’

She laughed softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of her teacup. ‘Not sure if that’s flattering or too forward’

Gavi’s smile softened, ‘A bit of both, cariño.’

‘Well i’ve seen you play, you’re good. But i’m sure you know that by now.’

He chuckled, ‘I don’t need compliments, but i’ll take them’

She smiled again, ‘So what’s a footballer like you doing in this small cafe in Casablanca?’

He looked out the window for a second, and then back at her, ‘I guess i’m looking for things that matter besides football’

Her gaze softened, ‘And have you found that yet?’

‘I’m getting closer.’ he paused, ‘Listen, I don’t know how long i’m gonna be here, but I want to see you again’

Unsure of how to really respond to that, she said ‘Maybe. If you’re lucky.’ in a mysterious tone.

And that’s when he knew he wouldn’t be leaving this city any time soon.

Due to the weather in Spain, their trip extended a few more days, but she didn’t need to know that.

On the last night of their stay, Gavi slipped away from the hotel and didn’t tell anyone, not even Pedri that he was going back to that very same cafe.

The night air was cooler than he expected but the night life still stayed active.

It wasn’t that long until he saw the cafe again, although it was late, it was still open and a few people were still in there.

He hesitated for a moment before entering again and the owner looked up at him and said,

‘Gavi, right? You’re here for someone I figured, and if so you’re in the right place, habibi.’

Gavi, uncertain by her words, followed her over to the table, where he saw here for the third time.

He sat opposite her, letting his eyes linger on her for a second before she broke the silence.

‘Gavi, I thought you wouldn’t turn up.’, she said, following with the familiar smile that Gavi loved.

‘I couldn’t stay away.’ he replied

And to that she chuckled and said, ‘You’re a lot more complicated than i thought Pablo.’

He grinned, trying to hide his emotions, leaning back into his chair, ‘I’ve been told.’

She stood up and said, ‘Listen Gavi, it’s getting late, I need to get going, and you should too.’

‘Wait,’ Gavi said ‘Can you please see me play again.’, he asked in an almost pleading tone.

She looked back, with an unreadable expression and said, ‘And you think i’ll say yes?’

‘I was hoping that you’ll surprise me.’

‘Maybe.’

And with that, she left.

A few weeks passed by, and the memory of you lingered in his brain. He hadn’t seen her since that night in the cafe, but your time together was the only thing on his mind.

Now he was in the Montjuïc, at a home game for laliga, as the stadium was packed with culers from all over the world as usual. But this match felt different.

As the game kicked off, Gavi instantly fell into the usual match rhythm yet his thought remained on her.

There was a small pause in play, as he re adjusted his socks, someone caught his eye. It was her.

There she was, in the VIP section, her barca scarf tucked around her shoulders.

He froze for a second, his heart hammering in his chest. She was no longer a memory, she was there in real time. Eventually, he snapped back into focus.

The scoreline was 1-1 and he knew that he needed to be the change that he wanted to see, so he took a risk and shot it in the direction of the net, bracing himself for the result. And there it was, a goal to put barca in the lead.

Pablo sprinted to the corner to celebrate and he looked up to see her in the stands with her hands over her mouth in shock. Then she smiled, her face full of pride. He noticed that, and made a small gesture, pointing towards her.

After the match was over, he saw her waiting with security by the players exit.

‘You made that goal look easy’ she said, her voice with a teasing tilt.

Before he could answer that, he had a question in his head.

‘You came all this way, why?’ He said, his eyes searching for hers.

‘I wanted to see if you’d keep your promise’

‘And did I?’

‘Yes.’ she replied with a subtle smile.

It had gotten to the point where they finally exchanged numbers, making his heart flutter.

The next laliga match was against sociedad which was quite a big match if you think about it. He had just completed his pre game superstitions until he received a message

‘i heard you’re not as bad as they say, wanna prove it? 😉’

He grinned, feeling a rush of excitement.

‘i thought i already did that’ he typed back.

‘okay, meet me at the cafe tomorrow.’

He arrived at the cafe as soon as the match was over and he was lost in thought. What were they? He knew they weren’t a fling but he didn’t know what to label it.

‘You’re early’ she said as she walked in.

‘Came as soon as the match ended’ he replied.

‘Okay Pablo, i’m gonna start off with why i asked you to come here. You’re the first guy who’s come into my life with a smile and a promise. But i’m not interested in that.’ she started.

He leaned in, ‘What’re you interested in then.’

‘Something real.’

‘So am I, and i’m not going anywhere.’

‘So prove it.’

And with those three words, the barrier between them was broken.

They went for a walk on the quiet streets of Barcelona, the night air brushing their faces. Neither of them spoke but the silence was enough for the both of them.

He turned to face her, ‘Listen. I don’t want you to go, just stay.’

She looked back at him and said, ‘Gavi.’

He didn’t let her continue because he felt like he already knew the answer to that and closed the gap between them.

Eventually, she found her way into extending her stay and renting an apartment in Barcelona to stay wiyh Gavi

Months past until they decided to make it official to the public, they both figured it out, the fame and distance.

One evening, they both sat on the balcony until he turned to face her.

‘So this is what i’ve been looking for. I’ve finally found what matters besides football.’ Gavi said.

She smiled back at him, realising that this is all she wanted too.

[seecarrun]

“I like him.”

Misty jumps, startled by Daisy’s sudden appearance behind her in the kitchen, and clutches her shirt over her now rapidly beating heart. “Jeeze, where did you come from?”

Daisy rolls her eyes and leans against the counter to meet her little sister with a knowing smirk. “Like, don’t change the subject, I know you heard me coming.” When Misty stays tellingly quiet, she repeats herself, “I like him. I’m glad we got to spend some time with him this time.”

“What are you talking about? Who?” Misty tries, hoping playing dumb will end this conversation before it can begin. But Daisy has always known her better than she lets on, and has no problem being blunt when she needs to.

“Ash,” she says like it’s obvious, because honestly, it is. “I can tell you like him, so I wanted to let you know I approve.”

“I do not!” Misty shrieks, her face immediately burning.

“Oh please, it’s like, so obvious,” Daisy scoffs. “It’s fine, baby sister, he’s cute! And talented; it’s clear he’s going to go places as a trainer.” She pauses to smile at Misty a bit more kindly. “You guys are a good match for each other. Total power couple material.”

“You’re crazy,” Misty insists, though she knows she isn’t being convincing. “H-he’s just a friend.”

Daisy looks at her for a moment too long and shrugs. “Whatever,” she sighs waving her off. “Keep being in denial then. Just make sure you get some sleep before the ballet tomorrow.”

She goes to leave, but pauses at the door, turning to look at Misty once more.

“What?” Misty asks defensively.

“We’re going to make sure you look extra gorgeous during the show, just FYI,” Daisy says knowingly, with a wink. And then, just a bit more mischievously, adds, “I saw how he looked at you after practice today when you had your hair down.”

At that, she disappears back down the hallway, leaving Misty alone once again, gently running her fingers through her hair.

[thatonegreenleaf]

moving cc files to be hosted on patreon! ♡

hi everyone!      as you may have noticed, the cc hosting website simfileshare has been unreliable for a bit now! I have begun the process of moving everything to be co-hosted on patreon as well, so that whenever simfileshare servers are struggling, you can just download the cc there instead! thank you to everyone who commented/sent an ask about the simfileshare issues, I appreciate that you even wanted to download my stuff in the first place! ♡

     so far, all my hairs and accessories stretching from august of last year until now are now up on patreon, with updated links on both patreon and tumblr, and I'll continue to add the rest! (CAS backgrounds may have to wait a bit though, as my past self decided it would be so fun and cool to not have those organized in one spot). If there's anything wrong with any of cc, you're facing any problems with it, or any of the new links lead somewhere they shouldn't, please let me know!      and, thank you so much for all your kind words, comments, and asks! I love seeing the posts you tag me in where you're using my content, it's still so unreal to me to see it in anyone's game, and your sims are all so beautiful! Balancing my social accounts is a bit difficult for me, but just know if you leave a comment, or tag me in something, it made me smile and it means a ton, truly.

     I hope everyone has a good week, and new year, and I'm excited to keep making stuff for you! (keep an eye out for a new hair in the next couple hours!) xoxo leaf

[truthinquotations]

While i absolutely love malevolent and everything about it from its insane concept to the fact that everything is done by one fucking guy i cant help but laugh at the fact that theres no difference between supernatural and malevolent in terms of queerbating 😭😭 i think I’m cursed to like homoerotic media made by straight men who wont ever commit to the bit they created

I’m not saying that i want them to be together like explicitly or whatever its just that i know that theres no reason to add certain things in the plot other than to create this kind of ambiguous state. And i know its not just me cos my bestie who got me into malevolent and recently watched all supernatural says the same thing😭😭 So now we’re just making jokes about how stereotypically “bury ur gays” or “make them go their separate ways” the ending will be lmao in true fashion of the best queerbait media

Top 3 are: 1) they get separated and go their separate ways cos John wants to “find himself” 2) they get separated and john goes to find lily (and don’t get me started on lily that whole thing is fucking HILARIOUS to me) 3) one of them dies and the other is forever in mourning

Again i love malevolent but the last seasons really r trying it in this department 😭😭😭

Edit. Lmao i know its a controversial take so not surprised at the comments. First of all i cant be “wrong” about a feeling I have its just how i FEEL about the show in the later seasons. You can say you disagree but to say that im wrong about my feelings just doesnt work lol im not here to defend a thesis. Secondly i know for a fact it’s not just me and my bestie feeling this way since yk this post also has ppl who agree with me🤷. If you get what I’m talking about you immediately understood my point, if you don’t, u don’t, its ok, I’m not advocating to change the podcast lmao

Pls stop with the whole “a lot of people see it as a aromantic relationship they dont have to be a couple friends tell ily to each other often” respectfully IN MY OPINION they have passed that line of friendship a long time ago. You can interpret it however you want same as I can interpret it however I want. But as a person who has a couple fandoms where i love the friendships and platonic relationships of characters i have never genuinely paid attention to to the amount of ily characters say bcos yk it would be a regular amount😭😭 Same as it never struck me weird if some characters been jealous in a friendship bcos it was clear that it was a friendship pure and simple. Which js why iI dont feel like jarthur is written as friends even if they never get together (which i dont even want lol i dont see how it would fit into plot atp). Honestly just how many times yall tell your friends that you love them or be ready to kill their other friends 💀💀

Some moments in malevolent feels eerily similar to supernatural and tw and if you get it you get. Two that come to mind is how in spn they had dean have sex with a female angel when everyone obvs been shipping him with cas. And how teen wolf brought dereks little sister that was practically his copy in every way on screen and alluded to stiles having a crush on her 😭. I get similar vibes when john brings lily out of fucking nowhere as his “light” (Or purpose or tether to humanity smth like that i forget the exact wording). I died laughing when hearing that like im sorry i get what he’s saying you don’t have to explain it to me but he brings her up so abruptly and i was just sitting there mentally asking myself “what do you know about her??? Who IS lily???” Like we’re suddenly meant to think lily is a bigger influence during those 2 months on johns humanity then arthur is😭😭 i mean come on even arthur was like ???

i wouldn’t be as surprised if they showed us some interaction like lily reading to arthur or smth like us hearing her voice or idk her last fucking name at least😭😭 something that would make it clear why he’s bringing up that character from fuck knows when other then its the only female character that can be considerably linked to john as his “light” in this scenario.

You can view their relationship however you want if you dont see it perfect then its not meant for you. I however genuinely cant view this as just friendship, the whole being jealous to the point of wanting to kill someone who seems as devoted to your partner as you are, refusing to be parted even when opportunity WAS presented and so on. If you can thats great, media is not meant to be interpreted in one way I can say its not friendly and you can say its your fav aromantic duo 🤷

I dont even think Harlan is doing it on purpose we just have very different definitions of what platonic means lmao. However the increase of these moments in the last seasons felt kind of purposeful to me lol which was what brought this on. And pls dont tell me its cos they got closer in the latter seasons arthur killed himself in s1 they’ve been close😭😭😭

I just don’t think that a person who hasn’t heard that harlan wont make them a couple, hasn’t heard a bit of discourse, listened to the podcast and certain moments of “ily” or their separation anxiety yada yada yada and would never think they have romantic feelings for each other or that its not where its headed.

Also if I feel like i experienced this exact same thing with media before and it was called queerbait and universally acknowledged as such I’m not gonna reinvent in my head definition of friendship and platonic love to fit what was previously labelled as queerbait there, Im gonna call it queerbait. Especially since it feels like every other media that was labelled as such before. Im not advocating to change the podcast or cancel it or whatever im expressing an opinion i have on my blog that i know other ppl even if not a lot agree with.

I stand with my cancelled take 💀💀💀

[bonsiii-art]

hiii! I absolutely adore the work you do with your art. I wanted to ask if you had any tips when it came to drawing faces/expressions? the expressions you do are so pleasing to look at.

Really sorry for answering this one super late; I was, for the most part, trying to decide if I wanted to draw something to convey what I mean or just type it out. I'm going with the former! >:P (Before you read, I want to preface that I am not the best at explaining things so if things sound too obtuse, I apologize! And ofc, some of these tips are a matter of preference! You do what you feel is best! :>)

Head angles and expressions go hand in hand with each other. A good angle with the right expression goes a long way in selling the mood that you want.

A massive help for me in this area is referenceangle.com! It's somewhat limited since it only draws from whatever database it uses. BUT, it's helpful to me to be able to visually see what a face at a specific angle will look like before simplifying it to key points for my style.

Now the lettered points in the img above: A - You can divide the head in two parts: the chin/mouth and the eyes/forehead. You can make the middle point being the tip of the nose. B - Keeping where the middle of the face is can help guide you to what features to adjust if something doesn't look right> C - In side profiles/near-side profiles, I draw the eyelash slightly jutting out which happens irl; I think it adds to the 3D-ness of the look. :> D - This one's a big tip, going back what I said about angles and expressions. Expressions alone can give you the visual info you need to know on how the character is feeling but head angles and body can send the message home twofold.

An example being that a character looking down on you can give a dominant, almost condescending vibe while a character looking up at you gives off a small, maybe sheepish feeling. A character looking straight ahead at you with a determined look demands your attention in a cool way! But at the same angle, with a lax, smiling look, the character can look creepy, almost unnerving. E - Often, when I draw characters looking up, I don't draw out the line between the head and neck and that's because I trust that the viewer knows that the chin didn't magically disappear, it's just not prominent enough to jut out for a hard line. Lines can do a lot to inform the audience about the shape of something!

EXTRA TIP BC IF IT CAN HELP ME, MAYBE IT CAN HELP YOU: ✨CANVAS FLIPPING✨

You drew a face you kinda like but it feels off? Flip the canvas and you might be able to see clearly areas where you can adjust it! There's a couple ways to do it: manually flipping every few adjustments you make when fixing the face OR like me, you can open another window of the canvas you're working on and having side by side with where you're working. I work with CSP so it updates in real time, allowing me to see how my changes are looking both ways.

[generic-whumperz]

I watch a lot of movies and shows, figure why not put my binge watching to good use?

I’ve been thinking about sharing whumpy movies and creating a “Whump Movie Spotlight” series, if you will. I’ll keep them spoiler-free and as objective as possible (this isn’t a review). I'll share bullet point details (and their 2-3 sentence copy/pasted descriptions) that go over the basics. If y’all want specific information, feel free to let me know what you would like to see going forward: leave a comment on this, shoot a message or an ask, or even add your own two cents in a reblog if you wish.

(These aren’t my favorite movies and I won’t even particularly like all these that I share; so if you don’t like them, that’s totally fine, I’ll have my scruples too. Just trying to showcase some lesser-known films featuring whump themes.)

Without further ado:

Whump Movie Spotlight:

ALONE (R) 2020 / 1h 37m

When a lone traveler flees the city looking for a fresh start, she meets a sadistic stalker who tries to make the wilderness her final destination.

A thrilling fast-paced psychological-suspense drama.

Cabin in the woods vibe: seclusion, isolation, man vs. nature, hunter vs hunted (lost in what I’m assuming is the Oregon wilderness)

Has an on-the-edge-of-your-seat feel

Low budget but doesn’t feel like it where it matters

Better than expected cinematography 

No NSFW/sexual scenes (sorta alluded to for a sec but nothing comes of it)

No torture. Just some mild beatings, a drugging, and a couple scramble fights.

Serial-killer-esque

Brief captivity

Run for your life

Nightmare roadtrip

Fleeing from the demons of your past only to run into the Devil

[idea-less-author]

I'm rewatching Doctor Who, and first of all, I forgot how much I not only loved this show but also Rose Tyler as a whole. Also nine needs more love. Anyway, I just finished episode 1×6 Dalek, and all I could think was how interesting it would have been if the Dalek survived and joined the time traveling duo. Walk with me a second.

We all known the Daleks, what they're like, what they are, what they've done, what they're capable of. But, this Dalek has spared 2 human lives. It's just kinda meandering with Rose questioning everything. It just wants freedom, but what does that mean really? The Doctor comes in and threatens it, sees that it's changed due to Rose's DNA, and is feeling something other than hate for the first time in it's existence. It's no longer a true Dalek, but it's still alone. It asks Rose for it's final orders. And, what if, she says no. And doesn't change her mind.

This is the first time the Dalek has ever felt the full spectrum of emotions. Of course it's over whelmed. It's neever felt anything more then maybe anger and hatred and now there are so many new things to feel.

Grief for what it once was and for all it once knew, fear of all of the unknown ahead, I'm sure some guilt for not only what it has done, but for even allowing itself to be changed in the first place. It gained human emotions for the very first time, moments after finding out that it was alone, and after being tortured for who knows how long. It's standing with the being that ended the time war by massacring both of their people, and the woman who' s DNA changed you so fundamentally that you know longer know what you even are. You're feeling sunlight for the very first time. That does not sound like a being that should be making life changing/ending decisions at that moment.

So, what if Rose refuses to give that final order. She recognizes all of the above. She's a lover, she's compassionate, she's emotionally intelegent. She doesn't like the suffering of anyone, including her enemies, but death would not be her first answer. It hasn't been before, it wasn't after, so why this time?

No, what if instead Rose chose to be kind to the Dalek by being a bit crule, and refusing it's request to die. Instead she convinces the Doctor to bring him aboard the ship. She picks the Dalek up, right out of the exoskelton, and not only gives the Dalek, it's first ever physical contact, but a new home. (I understand that the Dalek is squid-like and slimey but honestly I don't know how much Rose would care about that when trying to show compassion. Hell she tried to show compassion by carressing the Dalek earlier in this very episode.)

Nine would not be thrilled with these developments. You want to bring one of the creatures that helped end his people, terrorized the Universe, and is the reason that his alone, onto HIS Tardis? Are you mad? And they would bicker a bit. Shouting would happen, and the Dalek might even be on the Doctor's side. But I think in the end Rose would look at Nine with her big doe eyes, passionate about life in the way that she always is, and he would cave. He would be upset and cross (with himself mostly), but he would let Rose bring it onto his ship. I mean the Dalek has changed, and let's be real, he's the reason the Daleks alone, as well as himself. He had his reasons, but do they even matter at this moment? With this Dalek?

Now the next episode does take place near immediately after this one on station 5 and whatever, but even with the Dalek I think that the adventure with what's his name (I can't be bothered to look it up atm but you know the guy) can go much of the same as it did. The Dalek get's let on the Tardis recovering from it's ordeal, rethinking everything, and what the implications for it are now that everything is different. I think all of the Canon episodes for this season are much of the same too, just add a couple of new adventures showing the Dalek what life can be now with a full sectrum of emtions. And because it got these emotions from Rose, probably a shit-ton of compassion. I also think that it would start to build itself a new mechsuit, or whatever you want to call it. But this time, it has more uses then just death, destruction, and conquering.

The Dalek and the Doctor would have a whole frenemies thing. The Doctor doesn't trust the Dalek because it's a Dalek, and the Dalek knows that the Doctor should be it's number one enemy. But, they are cohabitating. And Rose wants things to work out, so they try to not be hostile. But every now and again, they find themselves... talking. Specfically when the Dalek is working on it's new suit, the Doctor will, help? Tbh it starts out with him being extreamly suspicious of the Dalek and wanting to keep an eye on it. Which leads to helping, segestions, being a sound board. And if I'm being honest, if it were a someone other than Nine I would say that this would be the time he notices what's happening and go and skulk around for a it before the cycle happens again, but I honestly think Nine would notice, and just continue on. Get to know the Dalek. Trust in Rose. At some point I do think that the Dalek chooses a name for itself, at Roses prompting. No idea what, but just another way that the Dalek changes and differenciates itself from the rest.

Now while this is all happening, they are still going on the rest of the adventures in the season. Jack joins the T.A.R.D.I.S. team. I think he'd kinda love a Dalek that's no longer a Dalek, who wants to live life, and maybe do some good for once. He joins the building sesions. Rose is there, it started off as her chaperoning The Doctor and The Dalek, but it just became hanging out and providing commentary fairly quickly. They're all having a grand time. It's strange, but it's theirs. Then Station 5 part 2 happens. The Doctor, Jack, and Rose get yoinked into their respective game shows. Rose gets disitegrated. Their Dalek and the T.A.R.D.I.S. are found and The Doctor and Jack are mourning. Their Dalek knows something is off. They figure out that the Daleks are back. They go to the Emperor.

Now I can't quite decide if Our Dalek would even be tempted by the emperor or not. Maybe at first? but It's changed so much. The Emperor likely wants nothing to do with It anyway because It's no longer a True DalekTM. And Our Dalek has changed so much. SEEN so much. Has been cared for by Rose Tyler, which we all know is a life chaging experience.

Once again I'm not entirely sure how the fight against the Daleks end for Their Dalek. It gets sent with Rose to protect her while everyone else fights and dies against the Daleks. It help Rose get back. Or It stays behind with Jack and The Doctor, completly fine with sacrificing it's life to save humanity as long as Rose is safe. If we go that route there are several ways you can go from there. It dies fighting what it once had been a hero. It dies, and comes back like Jack. In that case I think that It would continue on with Jack as a companion. Or maybe It goes It's own seperate way from Jack after resuraction. It lives, no need to be resurected. It could continue on with The Doctor and Rose. It could be left behind with Jack. It could stay behind with Jack. It could decide to go separate ways from the Doctor and Rose (I don't think Ten would be as tolerant of Our Dalek and It would sense that, so It goes on it's own adventures. Or maybe it goes and finds Jack after The Doctor becomes Ten.) Idk So many ways that it could go and I like a lot of them. I think bringing It back like Jack and letting them Travel together is my favorite.

I was just overtaken with this idea and had to share. I have no idea if this had been done broe, I'm sure it has, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I just started rewatching and it's over taken me. I'd love to hear other people's thoughts.