#forgetting curve study schedule

[microlearningplatform]

The Science of Forgetting: Why Trainers Must Rethink Learning Strategies

The Forgetting Curve and Its Relevance for Trainers: How to Ensure Long-Term Knowledge Retention

Introduction

Have you ever attended a training session, felt confident about what you learned, and then struggled to recall most of it just days later? This phenomenon is explained by the Forgetting Curve, a concept introduced by German psychologist Hermann Ebbinghaus in the late 19th century. His research showed that without reinforcement, people forget nearly 50% of newly learned information within an hour and up to 90% within a week.

For trainers, this presents a major challenge. No matter how well-designed a training program is, its effectiveness is limited if learners quickly forget the material. The good news? With the right strategies, trainers can combat the Forgetting Curve and ensure long-term knowledge retention.

This article explores the science behind the Forgetting Curve, its implications for trainers, and proven strategies to make learning stick.

Understanding the Forgetting Curve

What is the Forgetting Curve?

The Forgetting Curve describes how memory retention declines over time without reinforcement. Ebbinghaus conducted experiments where he memorized nonsense syllables and tested his recall over varying time intervals. His results formed a steep, downward-sloping curve, demonstrating rapid forgetting unless information is reviewed periodically.

Key Insights from the Forgetting Curve

Forgetting Happens Fast – Learners forget up to 70% of information within 24 hours of learning if there’s no reinforcement.

Repetition Strengthens Memory – Regular review interrupts forgetting and moves knowledge into long-term memory.

Meaningful Learning Improves Retention – Information that is relevant, contextual, and engaging is remembered better.

Active Recall is More Effective – Actively retrieving information (e.g., quizzes, teaching others) improves memory more than passive review.

These findings highlight the urgent need for trainers to implement strategies that reinforce learning over time.

Why the Forgetting Curve Matters for Trainers

For corporate trainers, L&D professionals, and educators, understanding the Forgetting Curve is critical. If trainees forget most of what they learn, then training programs are failing to create lasting impact.

Common Training Pitfalls That Lead to Forgetting

One-and-Done Training – Single-session workshops without follow-up lead to rapid information loss.

Overloading Learners – Dumping too much content at once overwhelms learners, making retention difficult.

Lack of Reinforcement – Without periodic reviews, knowledge fades quickly from memory.

Passive Learning Methods – Traditional lectures and static e-learning do not engage learners enough for deep retention.

The Cost of Forgetting in Organizations

Reduced Employee Performance – Employees forget essential skills, leading to mistakes and inefficiency.

Compliance Risks – Forgetting critical compliance regulations can result in legal consequences.

Wasted Training Investments – Organizations spend millions on training programs, but without reinforcement, much of that investment is lost to forgetting.

To overcome these challenges, trainers must design learning experiences that actively combat the Forgetting Curve.

How Trainers Can Overcome the Forgetting Curve

1. Use Spaced Repetition

Spaced repetition involves reviewing information at increasing intervals to strengthen memory. Instead of cramming, learners revisit key concepts multiple times over days, weeks, or months.

How to Implement Spaced Repetition

Microlearning Modules – Deliver bite-sized lessons with follow-up reinforcement.

Automated Learning Reminders – Use AI-powered learning platforms to schedule personalized review sessions.

Reinforcement Emails & Notifications – Send learners periodic reminders or quizzes.

Example: Instead of a one-time compliance training session, provide weekly microlearning refreshers on key policies.

2. Leverage Microlearning

Microlearning platform delivers small, focused lessons that are easier to digest and remember. Studies show that microlearning can increase retention by up to 50% compared to traditional training.

How Microlearning Helps Combat Forgetting

✅ Short & Focused – Learners absorb one concept at a time, improving retention. ✅ Flexible & On-Demand – Employees can access learning when they need it, reinforcing knowledge in real time. ✅ Engaging Formats – Videos, infographics, quizzes, and interactive lessons enhance engagement.

Example: Instead of a 3-hour training session, break it into 10-minute modules with real-world applications.

3. Implement Active Learning Techniques

Passive learning (reading, watching videos) leads to high forgetting rates. Active learning, which requires learners to engage, recall, and apply knowledge, significantly boosts retention.

Active Learning Strategies for Trainers

Quizzes & Retrieval Practice – Asking learners to recall information improves memory retention.

Scenario-Based Learning – Present real-world problems that require critical thinking and decision-making.

Peer Teaching – Encourage employees to teach concepts to others, reinforcing their understanding.

Gamification – Use leaderboards, challenges, and rewards to make learning engaging.

Example: After a training module on data security, give learners a real-world phishing attack scenario to solve.

4. Use AI-Powered Adaptive Learning

Artificial intelligence (AI) can personalize learning paths, ensuring that employees receive reinforcement exactly when they need it. AI analyzes learner performance and automatically adjusts training schedules to prevent forgetting.

How AI Helps Combat Forgetting

🚀 Personalized Reminders – AI identifies knowledge gaps and pushes targeted microlearning content. 🚀 Smart Adaptive Quizzes – AI-driven assessments help learners actively recall weak areas. 🚀 Just-in-Time Learning – Employees can access training at the moment of need for maximum retention.

Example: If an employee struggles with safety protocols, AI sends personalized refresher lessons.

5. Reinforce Learning with Real-World Application

Retention improves when learners apply knowledge in real-world scenarios. Trainers should create opportunities for hands-on practice and real-life implementation.

Ways to Reinforce Learning

On-the-Job Training Assignments – Give employees tasks that require applying new skills.

Role-Playing Exercises – Simulate real situations to deepen understanding.

Follow-Up Discussions & Coaching – Encourage knowledge sharing among peers.

Example: After a leadership training session, assign managers real coaching tasks to apply new skills.

Final Thoughts

The Forgetting Curve poses a significant challenge for trainers, but strategic learning reinforcement can dramatically improve retention. By incorporating spaced repetition, microlearning, active learning, AI-powered tools, and real-world application, trainers can ensure knowledge sticks—leading to more effective training programs and improved workforce performance.

🔹 Key Takeaways for Trainers: ✅ Combat forgetting with spaced learning & microlearning. ✅ Use active learning techniques like quizzes and real-world practice. ✅ Leverage AI-powered learning for personalized reinforcement. ✅ Reinforce learning with on-the-job application.

By shifting from one-time training events to continuous, reinforced learning, trainers can defeat the Forgetting Curve and maximize learning impact.

🚀 Want to improve your training programs? Explore how AI-powered microlearning solutions like MaxLearn can help!

[absdollievu]

hi! i hope this isn't too much for you, i understand if you dont want to write 💖

can u do stalker!abby x reader? im obsessed with those stories but almost no stalker abby stories available :((((

On Her Watch

stalker!abby x reader

Warnings: Dark romance, m@sturbation

You meet Abby Anderson before you realize you’ve met her.

It’s fleeting. You’re leaving the biology building one rainy afternoon, juggling an umbrella, your earbuds, and a coffee that keeps threatening to tip out of its lid. She’s sitting under the overhang near the bike racks, hood up, dark eyes barely visible. You glance at her—something about her size, her stillness, the way she doesn’t fidget like everyone else in the cold. She doesn’t look away when you catch her staring.

Just a moment.

And then you’re gone.

You forget. She doesn’t.

⸻

Abby never intended to follow you. Not at first.

She notices you before that moment in the rain. Weeks earlier, actually—when you’d bumped into her in the hallway between classes, shoulder to shoulder. You’d apologized with a quick, sheepish smile, already late to a study group. She hadn’t said anything. Just watched you disappear into a sea of students.

She remembered your perfume. Clean. Soft. She caught it again, by accident, the next week near the rec center—only this time she followed the scent, just to see if it was you. It was.

It starts small.

She times her runs around your class schedule. Makes excuses to study in the same libraries. Notices your friends. Watches you walk from the dorms to the gym at night in too-thin shorts and a hoodie, humming to yourself. Watches you tie your hair up when you think no one is looking.

She starts building a map in her head: where you go, who you’re with, how often you check your phone, how your face changes when you’re tired or lonely. It’s data. That’s how she rationalizes it. Information. Interest. Curiosity.

But that’s a lie, and she knows it.

She wants to know you. Have you. She wants to unzip your skin and crawl inside, wear you like a feeling.

⸻

You meet her again—properly this time—at the gym.

You’re wiping down a machine, out of breath and flushed. She’s standing a few feet away, towel slung around her neck, hair tied up in a bun. You don’t recognize her, not really, though something tugs at your memory.

“You done with this?” she asks, gesturing to the equipment.

You nod, stepping back, your eyes flicking over her briefly.

“Thanks,” she says, and you catch the edge of something in her voice—low, velvety, patient. She holds your gaze a little too long. Not enough to make you uncomfortable. Just… notice.

You do.

That night, she jerks off in her shower to the image of your parted lips, the damp curve of your throat, the way you brushed past her. She hates herself for it. But not enough to stop.

⸻

The friendship starts naturally. Or so it seems.

Abby finds ways to insert herself into your orbit—just enough to make you curious. She makes a dry joke in a study lounge one night that makes you laugh so hard you snort. The next time, she shares her coffee. The next, you’re inviting her to walk with you to class.

She’s easy to talk to. Uncannily observant. She remembers things you didn’t expect anyone to notice: how you hate the texture of oranges, how you never take the bus on Tuesdays, how you always wear that one ratty sweatshirt during finals.

You start to depend on her.

You don’t see the way she watches your every move when you’re not looking. How she memorizes the shape of your mouth when you talk, or your passwords when you unlock your phone. How she waits until you’ve left the library to grab the pen you forgot and pocket it.

You think she’s just intense. Kind. Private. A little possessive. You like it.

You don’t know what you’re inviting in.

⸻

It builds.

One night, she shows up outside your dorm unexpectedly. Says she was “just passing by.” You believe her. You invite her in.

You sit close on your tiny bed, knees touching. You’re laughing at some meme on her phone, and she’s not laughing at all—just staring at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, a little breathless.

Abby leans in a fraction, voice quiet. “You’re just…hard not to look at.”

Your stomach flips.

It’s not the first time someone’s flirted with you. But this is different. Abby’s attention is like standing in front of a furnace—controlled, focused, burning. Like if she touched you now, you’d melt.

You don’t kiss her that night. But you think about it.

She goes home and fingers herself slow and rough, replaying your laugh in her head like a song she can’t stop humming.

⸻

You start finding little things out of place.

Your charger unplugged. Your sweater on the wrong hook. A lipstick you swear you didn’t leave out.

You brush it off. You’re distracted. Studying. Tired.

You never see the way your bedroom window slides back into place, silently, just before dawn.

⸻

She loses control the night she sees you on a date.

It’s nothing serious. Just some guy from your ethics class. You’re at a pub, laughing. Abby sees it through the window.

She doesn’t go in. She waits.

Follows you home after. Watches the way you stumble a little in your heels, tug your phone out to text someone. She imagines it’s him. Wonders if you’re going to fuck him.

You’re alone. She watches the light go off. Waits.

She just wants to look.

⸻

You’re in bed. Rolled to one side. Your sheets low on your hips.

She presses her hand to the glass. Wants to open it. Wants to crawl in, lie beside you, pull your shirt up and taste the warm skin of your stomach—

But she doesn’t.

Not yet.

⸻

Weeks later. After another night of laughter and long walks. You’re a little drunk. She’s not. But she doesn’t stop you.

Your lips are soft. Her hands are iron. You sigh into her mouth like you’ve been holding your breath for weeks.

She kisses you like she’s starving.

You think it’s the beginning of something new.

You don’t realize it’s the beginning of her finally getting what she wants.

⸻

The first time you sleep together, it’s raw. Tense.

She doesn’t take her eyes off you. Not once.

She touches you like you’re something fragile and holy—spreads you out on your bed, breath shuddering, mouth worshipful. She whispers things you barely understand, hands gripping your hips so tightly you’ll bruise.

You don’t mind.

You come with her name in your mouth.

She stays the night. Watches you sleep, fingers ghosting over your wrist, your lips. Her need doesn’t quiet. It just shifts. Evolves.

Now that she’s had you, she’ll never let go.

And you have no idea what you’ve let in.

⸻

a/n: part 2? Send more requests please!!!

[lyn31]

Do you mind if I request a pure fluffy oneshot about pregnant MC feels lonely since Zayne always busy at work where in fact, Zayne already planned a long holiday to take care of his pregnant wife?🥺🥺

Omg this is so cute! Thank you for the request/idea! I try my best for pure fluff! Hope it's what you're thinking of!

Lonely?

Summary

You thought you’d have to endure more lonely days, waiting for Zayne to come home late from work. He’s always been attentive, making sure you’re comfortable, checking in on your cravings, and doing everything he can to care for you—even from a distance. But it’s not enough. You don’t just want his care. You want him. And what you don’t realize is that he’s already made sure you won’t have to wait much longer.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader If you've been reading my stuff, you know I'm prone to getting carried away—but not too much this time! Anyway, pure fluff incoming!

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The morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the kitchen. The smell of coffee lingers in the air, mixing with the faint sweetness of whatever simple breakfast you managed to put together. Across from you, Zayne sits with his usual composed demeanor, sipping his coffee as he reads something on his terminal. He looks effortlessly put together, as always, dressed in his usual crisp attire, ready for another long day at the hospital.

You try not to pout. You really do.

But the disappointment settles in your chest before you can stop it.

It’s not like Zayne has been neglecting you—far from it. Even with his busy schedule, he still makes sure you’re eating well, checks in on your cravings, and finds small ways to take care of you. But it’s not the thoughtful gestures you want right now. It’s him. His presence. His warmth—well, as warm as he can be. You just miss having him by your side.

“Another long shift?” you ask, poking at your food without much enthusiasm.

Zayne glances up, his golden eyes calm as ever. “Hm?”

You roll your eyes. “At the hospital. You’ve been working late every day. It’s fine, I’m just asking.”

There’s no accusation in your tone, but you still feel a little guilty for even bringing it up. It’s not like Zayne is staying late for fun—he’s a doctor. His work saves lives. But still, a selfish part of you wishes he could just… be here.

Zayne sets down his coffee cup with a quiet clink, studying you for a moment. Then, instead of answering directly, he asks, “Did you sleep well?”

You huff. Typical. He always redirects the conversation back to you. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Back pain?”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Hm.” He reaches for a small dish beside him and slides it toward you. “I picked these up on the way home last night. You mentioned craving something sweet.”

You glance down, finding a delicate pastry, the exact kind you’d been wanting the other day. Your heart squeezes. See? He never forgets. But the ache in your chest doesn’t go away.

You pick it up, turning it slightly between your fingers before taking a bite. The flaky crust melts in your mouth, the filling perfectly sweet without being overwhelming. Exactly the way you like it.

Your mood should lighten. And in some ways, it does—just not the way you need. Zayne always remembers these little things, even when he barely has time to breathe.

You swallow, glancing at him as he returns his attention to his terminal, seemingly unbothered. Like picking up pastries at an ungodly hour just to make you happy is the most natural thing in the world.

Your lips curve slightly. “You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

Zayne hums, not looking up. “Do what?”

You gesture vaguely with the half-eaten pastry. “This. Bringing me things. You’re already busy enough.”

Finally, he meets your gaze. “It’s hardly an inconvenience.”

The words are simple, stated like a fact rather than reassurance. But you know what he means. If it’s for you, it’s never a burden.

The warmth in your chest grows, just enough to quiet the selfish ache—at least for now.

You take another bite, letting yourself enjoy the moment. Even if he has to leave soon, at least for now, he’s here.

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

There’s not much to do when you’re off work and pregnant. Ever since you and Zayne found out, you’ve both been buried in pregnancy books, but now that you’re in your second trimester, there’s more waiting than anything else. At least your pregnancy has been on the milder side so far.

It’s not like he’s neglecting me. You keep telling yourself that, fingers absently tracing patterns against your stomach. He still calls. He still buys me whatever I want. I’m fine. The house is quiet—too quiet—and before you can stop yourself, your gaze flickers to the clock. I don’t need to be so clingy. But somehow, the weight in your chest doesn’t ease.

So here you are again, texting Tara and catching up on the latest gossip.

Tara: Oh, and get this—remember that newbie from last week? The one who swore up and down that they could handle a solo mission?

You: The one who nearly got flattened by a Normal Wanderer?

Tara: Yep. That one. Well, guess who had to bail them out today?

You: No way. You?

Tara: Of course me. Because someone didn’t read the mission brief properly and walked straight into a nest.

You: LMAO, you’re kidding.

Tara: I wish. I had to listen to them apologize every five seconds while I cleared the area. If I hear one more “I’m so sorry, Senior Tara” I might actually lose my mind.

You: Pfft. Sounds like a fun day for you.

Tara: Oh, absolutely. Thrilling. The highlight of my week, really.

You: LMAO.

Tara: Anyway, why aren’t you asleep yet? You need a lot of rest—you and the baby, that is.

You: I’m waiting for Zayne to get home 🥺

Tara: Eh? He’s not home yet?

You: He’s supposed to be, but there was an emergency he had to take care of 😩

Tara: Well, that’s rough. But still, don’t you see him when he gets home anyway?

You: Barely. I keep falling asleep early 🫠 And now, for the morning I keep waking up later and later… Damn hormones, I swear to god.

Tara: LOL, what can you do? It is what it is. Just don’t stay up too late!

You sigh, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you. Just this once, you want to stay awake—just to see him properly, not only in passing before he leaves for work.

“I get it. He’s busy. I shouldn’t complain.” The words come out light, almost dismissive, but your fingers catch on the hem of your sleeve, twisting the fabric between them. Even saying it out loud doesn’t make it feel any less hollow.

And, of course, your body has other plans. Because when you open your eyes again, it’s morning.

You're no longer on the living room sofa but tucked into bed instead. The sheets are smoothed around you, and the weight of a blanket drapes comfortably over your body. A pillow has been carefully adjusted against your belly, positioned just right to relieve any strain.

You groan into your pillow, frustration muffled against the fabric. You missed him again—just like every other night these days.

A cool, gentle touch lands on your shoulder.

You peek up, already knowing who it is.

Zayne is crouching beside the bed, his hazel eyes level with yours. Dressed in his usual crisp attire, he looks as composed as ever.

“Are you feeling any discomfort?” His tone is clinical, but the concern beneath it is unmistakable.

You shake your head, your voice still heavy with sleep. “No, I’m good. I just keep missing you coming home.” You pout without meaning to.

Zayne leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, then another to your temple. “Sorry.”

Your heart squeezes. A tiny, selfish part of you wanted him to feel bad for leaving you behind so often. But not like this.

You shake your head, frowning. “What are you sorry for? It’s your job—just like when I get emergency calls for Wanderers, remember? I understand.” You smile, actually meaning it.

Zayne takes your hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing your palm. “You won’t have to miss me for much longer.”

You blink. What?

But before you can question it, a thought occurs. Right. He’s probably pushing himself harder just to get home earlier.

You huff. “Just don’t overwork yourself, got it?” You reach up and pinch his cheek lightly.

Zayne merely hums, his lips twitching slightly before he leans down, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. Then, he stands. “I made breakfast. If you’re ready, I can help you get up.”

You narrow your eyes at the curve of his lips, recognizing the teasing edge in his voice.

Still, you reach for him anyway, stretching out both hands toward him. “Well, husband, help your wife up, then.”

His low chuckle is your only warning before he pulls you into his arms with practiced ease.

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

“Take care, Mrs. Li.”

You reply with a smile, “You too.”

The person—whom Zayne hired at the start of your pregnancy—gives you a polite nod before stepping out, leaving your home spotless as always.

Honestly, sometimes your husband is even more dramatic than you. It’s sweet that he refuses to let you lift a finger, but now you’re left with nothing to do. The house, now silent and empty, feels even bigger than usual.

You huff, shaking off the creeping loneliness. You could dwell on it… or you could find something to entertain yourself with.

Speaking of entertainment, Zayne should be on his break around this time.

So, of course, you text him.

You: Zaaaaayyyneeeeee.

Mine♥️: Yes? Did something happen?

You: Send me your selfie ☺️

Mine♥️: My selfie? How about you send me yours first?

Did he just? This man, you swear. You shake your head grinning while you type your reply.

You: Hey! I say it first! The baby’s asking.

You can practically see Zayne’s deadpan stare through the screen, and the thought alone makes you giggle.

Mine♥️: The baby is asking?

You: Yes. The baby wants to see their dad’s face 🥺

You stare at your screen, waiting, watching the three little dots appear… then disappear. Then appear again. Then disappear.

You know he’s hesitating.

Mine♥️: That doesn’t sound medically accurate.

You snort, already imagining his flat expression.

You: Wow. Are you denying your child’s request? How could you, Dr. Li?

Silence.

Then, finally—a new message arrives.

It’s an image.

You open it eagerly, only to burst into laughter.

It’s exactly what you expected. A slightly blurred, poorly angled selfie, as if he took it at the last second just to shut you up. His expression is his usual composed neutrality, though you can see the faintest arch of his brow, like he knows this is ridiculous but indulges you anyway. The lighting is terrible, half his face is cropped out, and yet—it's still unmistakably him.

You: LMAO, Zayne, still?? Are you sure you know what that is?

Mine♥️: A selfie.

You: This is a crime against photography.

Mine♥️: You asked. I delivered.

You can’t stop grinning. Even with his reluctant participation, it’s these little moments that make you feel closer to him, even when he’s away.

You: Fine, fine. You win. But I’m adding this to my Zayne’s selfie collection.

Zayne doesn’t reply immediately, but when he does, it’s only two words.

Mine♥️: Of course.

And maybe it’s just your hormones, but somehow, that single message makes your heart flutter a little too much. After a beat he sends you another text.

Mine♥️: Now, where’s mine?

You debate teasing him for a few seconds, but you’re feeling generous, so you take a picture of yourself, angling a bit to show you holding your baby bump, and winking at the camera. Then you send it.

Mine♥️: Perfect.

You stare at the screen, re-reading his response. Perfect.

It’s such a simple word. Just one. But somehow, it makes your chest feel warm and achy all at once.

You puff out a breath, suddenly feeling ridiculous. Why is this making you emotional? It’s not even that serious. It’s just Zayne being Zayne. Calm, composed, and effortlessly sweet in that way of his.

But then you glance back at your own selfie—the one with your baby bump in clear view—and your eyes start to sting.

He thinks you’re perfect. Just like this.

Hormones. It has to be the hormones.

You sniff, rubbing at your eyes, and quickly type back before you can get any more sappy.

You: I’ll let you have that one, Dr. Li. Just this once.

His reply comes instantly.

Mine♥️: I appreciate the honor.

You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling. Even if you feel lonely right now, at least moments like this remind you—Zayne is still with you, no matter the distance. And yet, no matter how sweet these moments are, the ache of missing him doesn’t go away.

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

Another morning dawns, light filtering softly through the curtains, painting everything in a muted golden hue.

You wake up feeling... off. Not upset, not really, but there’s a quiet heaviness in your chest, a weight of reluctance. Maybe it’s just that your bed is so comfortable, or it’s the cool presence beside you—one you know will be gone in just a little while.

Zayne is still half-asleep, his breathing slow and steady. The moment you shift closer, he stirs. He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers find their way to your hair, smoothing down the strands with that same absentminded gentleness he always has.

You press your face against his shoulder, sighing. Just a few more minutes. Just a little longer before the day starts and he leaves again.

But time moves too fast. Before you know it, he’s getting up, moving through the familiar motions of getting ready. You stay in bed longer than usual today, even though you’re already awake, not feeling like facing the day just yet, but eventually, you shuffle out of the room, just in time to see Zayne placing the food on the table.

He glances up when he notices you. “Come sit. You need to eat.”

You hum noncommittally but let him guide you to your chair. Breakfast is warm, comforting—just like always. You eat quietly, and while Zayne doesn’t comment on it, you know he notices. He always does.

And now, here you are, standing at the front door, watching him as he prepares to leave for yet another work day. You keep your expression neutral. Or at least, you try. But it must show anyway, because as Zayne smooths out his sleeves, then glances at you. “You won’t be waiting much longer.”

You blink. “Huh?”

He tilts his head slightly, as if this should be obvious. “Today is my last shift before my extended leave starts. I’ll be home starting tomorrow.”

Your brain stalls. You just stare at him, completely thrown. The words don’t quite register at first, like your mind refuses to take them in all at once, because—what?

You open your mouth, then close it again, struggling for words before finally managing— “You’re��staying home starting tomorrow?” The words come out small, hesitant, like you’re scared to believe them. But the look on Zayne’s face—calm, assured, like this was never even a question—makes it all too real.

Then the realization crashes into you, and before you even know it, your eyes burn—tears spilling over, completely unprompted, catching even you off guard.

Zayne’s expression shifts in an instant. His hands reach for you immediately, one settling on your back, the other tilting your chin up so he can study your face. “What’s wrong?” His voice is calm, but you can hear the thread of concern beneath it. “Are you in pain?”

You shake your head rapidly, even as another choked-out laugh bubbles up between your tears. “No, I just—” You sniffle, gripping onto his coat.

His touch is gentle as he tilts your chin up again, but before that, his thumb brushes the corner of your eye, catching a tear before it can fall. He exhales softly, barely more than a breath, and murmurs “No tears, love.” low and steady, as if grounding you with just his voice.

And that you make your tears flow even more. “I’m just really happy. And I feel ridiculous. Oh my god, I can’t stop crying—”

Zayne blinks, still looking slightly lost. But he tightens his hold on you, shifting slightly to the side so he doesn’t squeeze you or the baby, his hand stroking your back in slow, steady motions. Then, as if something clicks, he exhales softly. “Didn’t I already tell you? That you wouldn’t have to miss me for much longer?”

You let out a hiccup, still clutching his coat. “You were being vague! I thought you meant coming home earlier or something!”

His lips twitch slightly—amused, but choosing not to show it too much for your sake. “I see. My mistake.” He presses a kiss into your hair, exhaling a quiet chuckle. “You think I’d leave you lonely if I had a choice?”

You huff, burying your face against his chest. Zayne lets out a quiet breath before wrapping his arms securely around you. “And you’re not ridiculous,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “But you do need to breathe.”

You let out a watery laugh. “I am breathing.”

“Barely.” He smooths a hand down your back, his voice quieter now. “You really missed me that much?”

You nod against his chest. “Yeah. I really did.”

Zayne says nothing for a moment, just holds you there, his grip firm and steady. And then, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he says, “Then I’ll make up for all of it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed by just how much you love this man. “You’re not allowed to leave me for even a second, you hear me?”

A pause. Then, so casually, “That might be difficult. What if you need to use the bathroom? You don't usually let me follow you there.”

You pull back just enough to glare at him. “Zayne.”

“Hm?” His expression is calm, but you can see the slightest glint of amusement in his eyes now.

“You’re ruining the moment.”

Zayne hums, entirely unbothered. “I thought I was making it memorable.”

You sniff, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“I know.” He smooths his hands down your sides one last time before stepping back, adjusting his coat. “Now, go inside. You shouldn’t be standing out here too long.”

You cross your arms, still pouting. “Fine. But you better come home on time.”

Zayne lifts a brow. “I always do.”

“Liar.”

He exhales through his nose—just barely amused—before leaning in, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you tonight.”

And with that, he turns, heading off without another word. You linger for a second longer, watching him go before finally stepping inside.

By the time evening comes, the moment Zayne steps inside, you immediately cling to him. His hands settle at your waist, steadying you, and just when you’re about to pull back, he shifts his grip—lifting you effortlessly.

“Zayne! Are you insane? Put me down! I’m the weight of two people!”

“This is why I work out,” he replies smoothly.

You gape at him before bursting into laughter. He just walks, carrying you as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, before gently setting you down on the living room sofa. Crouching in front of you, his eyes flick toward the kitchen, probably catching the scent of the food you just finished making. One brow lifts.

“You were cooking?”

“I’m pregnant, not invalid.” You challenge his stare with a pointed look.

He exhales, clearly holding back a remark, then concedes with a small nod. “Alright then. Do you want to eat first?” He asks, even though he already knows your answer.

Now that your mood feels much lighter, you flash him a sweet smile. “I’m eating with you, obviously. Speaking of, husband…”

You toy with his collar, dragging a finger slowly down his chest. Zayne watches you with a suspicious gaze.

“Do you want to eat first, take a bath, or…” You drag out the words teasingly. “Me?”

You wink, fully expecting him to scoff. And he does—but not before his eyes flick down to your breast, then back up. The way his gaze darkens for half a second makes your breath hitch.

Then, without missing a beat, he says, “You first, then.”

“What?” You laugh, eyes widening as he shifts to sit beside you, pulling you against him. His cool breath brushes against your skin, lips grazing the curve of your neck.

“You asked, darling.”

And just like that, the day ends in the most perfect way possible.

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

Notes

Hehehehehe 😳 sorry ahahahaha love how this turn out actually, gosh they're so cute 🫶🏻😩🥹 Not connected and more like a snippet (smut) but still on pregnancy theme!

You're reading the Pregnancy series! You're at Part 2

Part 0

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 (Smut at the end)

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

[yassbishimvintage]

Where I wanna Be

Warnings: Fluff, Smut

MDNI!

It was a warm afternoon. Kel was going over a script. “Kel?” came Simone’s voice, soft and tentative, breaking through the quiet.

Kelvin looked up from the script he had been studying, his intense focus momentarily disrupted. He softened as soon as he saw her standing in the doorway, her hair loosely tied back and a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, setting the pages down and giving her his full attention.

She stepped into the room, holding two mugs of tea. “Thought you might need a break,” she said, handing one to him before sitting on the arm of his chair.

Kelvin took the mug, his fingers brushing hers, and smiled. “You always know when to rescue me, don’t you?”

Simone shrugged playfully. “That’s what girlfriends are for. So, what’s got you so deep in thought?”

He chuckled and leaned back, letting her warmth and presence ground him. “Just going over this new role. It’s...intense. But I think it’s going to be worth it.”

“Hmm,” she mused, leaning her head against his. “Well, don’t forget you’re pretty intense yourself. Whatever it is, I know you’ll kill it.”

Her quiet confidence in him brought a soft smile to his face. “Thanks, Sim. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, don’t forget we have dinner with Cleo and Aaron tonight,” Simone reminded him as she sipped her tea.

Kelvin groaned playfully, leaning his head back against the chair. “That’s tonight? Babe, you know I love them, but I was hoping to spend the evening in sweats with you.”

Simone laughed, nudging his shoulder lightly. “Come on, Kel. You know how rare it is for all of us to get together. Plus, Cleo’s been dying to see you and grill you about your next project.”

Kelvin raised an eyebrow. “Grill me? You mean ask ten questions in two minutes and then tell me what I should do instead?”

Simone smirked, shaking her head. “You know that’s just Cleo’s way of showing she cares. Besides, Aaron will back you up. He gets it.”

“True,” Kelvin conceded, his lips curving into a small smile. “Alright, you win. But only if you promise we can have a lazy day tomorrow.”

Simone leaned down, kissing his cheek. “Deal. Now finish up and get ready. We can’t be late—Cleo’s timing us.”

Kelvin laughed, shaking his head. “She really does keep everyone on a schedule, doesn’t she?”

“She’s efficient, that’s all,” Simone said with a wink before disappearing back into the kitchen. “Hurry up, Kel!” she called over her shoulder.

Kelvin chuckled, setting his tea down. “Guess I better start getting ready before she starts timing me too.”

When Kelvin and Simone arrived at the cozy upscale restaurant, they spotted Aaron and Cleo already seated at a corner table. Cleo, ever poised and stylish, was sipping on what looked like a glass of red wine, her grey eyes scanning the menu. Aaron, dressed in a crisp, casual blazer, was leaning back in his chair, sharing a laugh with her over something.

“Fashionably late, huh?” Cleo quipped as Kelvin and Simone approached the table. Her tone was light, but the playful smirk on her face was impossible to miss.

Aaron chuckled, standing to greet them. “You know Cleo’s been timing you since we got here,” he teased, pulling Kelvin into a quick hug before turning to Simone with a warm smile. “Simone, always good to see you.”

“Hey, we’re not that late,” Simone countered with a laugh, hugging Aaron and then Cleo. “Blame Kel. He got caught up in a script.”

Kelvin raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I? Besides, I figured you two would appreciate a little extra time for yourselves.”

Cleo rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “Alright, fine. Sit down before Aaron orders half the menu. He’s been talking about the steak here since we made the reservation.”

Simone and Kelvin slid into their seats, the warm ambiance of the restaurant wrapping around them. Kelvin glanced at the menu, then at Aaron. “So, the steak, huh? What’s the verdict?”

Aaron grinned. “Haven’t tried it yet, but the guy at the next table looks like he’s having a religious experience. That’s a good sign, right?”

Everyone laughed, the tension of the day melting away as they settled into the evening.

“So, Kel. Spill about this role,” Cleo said, setting her glass of wine down and fixing him with an expectant look.

Kelvin chuckled, shaking his head. “I knew this was coming. You’re not going to let me enjoy my appetizer first?”

“Nope,” Cleo replied smoothly. “If it’s got you this distracted, it must be good. Out with it.”

Simone leaned back with an amused smile, sipping her drink. “Told you she’d grill you,” she said softly, just loud enough for Kelvin to hear.

“Alright, alright,” Kelvin relented, placing his napkin on the table. “It’s this biopic about a legendary jazz musician. They’re bringing in a big-name director, and the script is incredible. But…”

“But?” Cleo prompted, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“It’s a lot,” Kelvin admitted, his voice more serious now. “The role requires a ton of prep—learning new instruments, mastering the artist’s style, and just…digging into his life. There’s a lot of pressure to get it right.”

Aaron, who had been quietly cutting into his steak, looked up and nodded. “Sounds like a challenge, but it’s the kind of challenge that pushes you, right?”

“Exactly,” Kelvin said, grateful for the understanding. “It’s just one of those projects where I know if I take it on, I have to go all in.”

Cleo studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. “If anyone can do it, it’s you. But you already know that, don’t you?”

Kelvin smiled, the encouragement bolstering his confidence. “Thanks, Cleo. I needed to hear that.”

“You’ve got this, Kel,” Simone chimed in, reaching for his hand under the table.

“Now,” Cleo said, leaning back with a smirk. “What’s the name of this jazz musician? Or do I need to start guessing?”

Kelvin laughed. “I can’t say yet—NDA and all that. But I’ll tell you this much, it’s someone who changed the game.”

Aaron grinned. “Well, we’ll be the first ones in line for the premiere. Just make sure we get a private screening before then.”

“You got it,” Kelvin said, relaxing into his seat as the conversation shifted to lighter topics.

-

When they got home, Simone kicked off her heels at the door and began unbuttoning her blouse as she walked through the house. The warm glow of their living room lights reflected off her skin, and her laughter echoed faintly as she recounted a joke Aaron had made during dinner.

“Sim, you’re really just leaving a trail of clothes, huh?” Kelvin teased, picking up her blazer from the back of the couch where she’d draped it.

Simone turned around, now unbuttoning her jeans, and flashed him a playful grin. “You’re always complaining about how I take forever to get ready. This is efficiency.”

Kelvin shook his head, chuckling as he followed her, the blazer in one hand and her discarded blouse in the other. “Efficiency would be putting them in the laundry basket, not decorating the house with them.”

Simone disappeared into their bedroom, her voice trailing behind her. “If it bothers you so much, you know where the basket is.”

He laughed, setting the clothes down on a chair before leaning against the doorway to their bedroom. Simone stood by the dresser in her underwear, pulling out one of his oversized shirts. She slipped it over her head, letting it fall loosely around her frame.

Kelvin crossed his arms, watching her with a soft smile. “You know, you don’t have to leave a trail for me to follow. I’d find my way to you anyway.”

Simone looked over her shoulder, her playful smirk softening into something more tender. “Good to know, Kel. But maybe the trail’s for me. Makes the house feel like home.”

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Home is wherever you are, Sim.”

She turned in his arms, looping hers around his neck. “Good answer. Now, are you going to help me clean up my trail, or are we just going to stand here being cheesy?”

Kelvin laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “Cheesy first. Then I’ll clean up.”

Soon his lips moved to her neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses against her skin. Simone’s breath hitched slightly, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest.

“Tomorrow,” Kelvin murmured between kisses, his voice low and teasing, “is our lazy day. And you know what that means.”

“Lazy sex day,” she finished for him, her lips curving into a knowing smile as her fingers trailed along his collarbone.

Kelvin chuckled against her neck, his hands settling on her hips and pulling her closer. “Exactly. No alarms, no responsibilities, just us and all the time in the world.”

Simone tilted her head slightly, giving him better access as her smile deepened. “And how lazy are we talking? Because I’m pretty sure you don’t know how to pace yourself.”

Kelvin pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his grin equal parts mischievous and affectionate. “Oh, I’ll pace myself. But don’t expect me to stick to one round.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Kel, you’re ridiculous. But I guess that’s why I love you.”

“Guess?” he echoed, feigning offense as he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. “Let me remind you why there’s no guessing about it.”

Simone laughed again, the sound filling the room as he laid her down gently, their lazy day plans starting a little early.

“We better have shower sex sometime tomorrow,” Simone said, her voice light but laced with a playful edge as she lay beneath him, running her fingers through his hair.

Kelvin smirked, leaning down until his lips brushed hers. “Oh, that’s a guarantee. But are you sure you’ll have the energy for it after I’m done with you tonight?”

Simone arched an eyebrow, her smile turning into a challenging grin. “Kel, please. You act like I don’t know how to keep up with you.”

Kelvin laughed softly, the sound vibrating against her skin as he nuzzled her neck. “Fair enough. Shower sex it is, but don’t blame me if we run out of hot water.”

“I’ll take that risk,” she said with a mock-serious tone, pulling him closer. “Just make sure you bring your A-game.”

“Oh, babe,” Kelvin murmured against her lips, his voice full of promise. “You know I always do.”

-

The next morning she awakes before Kelvin. Simone smiled as she straddled Kelvin, her movements slow and deliberate as she settled on top of him. The weight of the moment, the quiet of the morning, and the warmth between them felt perfect. She locked eyes with him, her lips curling into a teasing grin.

“Ready for that lazy day?” she asked, her voice low and sultry, her hands sliding over his chest.

Kelvin’s hands instinctively moved to her hips, guiding her movements as he let out a quiet laugh. “You’re not wasting any time, huh?”

Simone leaned down, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “You don’t need time when you’re with me.”

Her words sent a rush through him, and before he could respond, she kissed him deeply, pulling him into the moment. It was easy to lose themselves in each other, the world outside forgotten as they enjoyed their slow, intimate start to the day.

He smiled against her lips, his hands sliding up her back as he pulled her closer. “That’s right,” he murmured, his voice warm and full of promise. “Lazy sex day.”

Simone’s smile deepened, a spark of excitement flashing in her eyes as she rolled her hips ever so slightly. “Exactly,” she breathed, teasing him with the lightest touch of her fingers on his chest. “We’ve got all day.”

Kelvin’s smile widened, his hands moving to her waist, guiding her movements as he took in the moment. “All day,” he repeated, before leaning in to kiss her again, his lips gentle yet eager as he gave in to the rhythm they’d set.

A few hours later, Simone slowly stirred from her sex-induced nap, the soft light filtering through the curtains as she stretched out, her body still feeling the pleasant aftermath of their earlier indulgence. Her head rested against the pillow, and for a moment, she just let herself bask in the comfortable silence.

Kelvin was beside her, his breathing steady as he lay next to her, a satisfied smile still on his face even in his sleep. Simone couldn’t help but smile too, her fingers tracing the lines of his arm as she thought about how effortless everything felt between them.

She glanced over at the clock, realizing they’d lost track of time. It was late afternoon, and the rest of the world had clearly moved on without them. With a quiet laugh, she ran a hand through her hair, leaning in to kiss his cheek before she slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb him.

Simone stood by the window for a moment, enjoying the tranquility of the moment, before turning back to look at him. “Lazy sex day indeed,” she murmured to herself, her smile softening as she considered how perfect it had been.

-

Simone quietly slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake Kelvin, who was still peacefully resting. She walked into the kitchen, the familiar space bringing a sense of calm and routine after their spontaneous afternoon.

She moved around the kitchen with ease, gathering ingredients for dinner. It was nothing fancy—just something comforting and simple to end their lazy day. A quick pasta dish with a creamy sauce, some garlic bread, and a fresh salad to balance it out. She hummed softly to herself as she worked, the gentle rhythm of chopping, stirring, and setting the table grounding her in the present moment.

As she tossed the pasta into boiling water, she glanced back at the bedroom door, wondering how long it would be before Kelvin woke up. She smiled to herself, thinking about how nice it was to have days like this—uninterrupted, slow, and entirely their own.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the kitchen as she prepared the meal, and soon enough, the comforting sounds of sizzling filled the air. She worked with a sense of ease, enjoying the solitude for a moment before the inevitable return to their busy lives.

Soon, Simone heard the soft sound of Kelvin’s footsteps approaching the kitchen. She turned her head just in time to see him leaning against the doorframe, a relaxed but sleepy smile on his face. His hair was tousled, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled, but he still managed to look effortlessly attractive.

“Smells amazing in here,” he said, his voice low and husky, still carrying the remnants of sleep. He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder.

Simone leaned back into him, a smile tugging at her lips. “I figured we should at least have dinner before we completely ruin the rest of the night.”

Kelvin chuckled, his chin resting on her shoulder as he watched her work. “I’ll be honest, I was thinking more along the lines of dessert after everything that’s happened today.” His hands slid down her waist, drawing her a little closer.

Simone shook her head with a laugh, her hands still stirring the sauce. “Well, if you’re patient, you’ll get both. But dinner first.”

Kelvin nuzzled her neck, pressing a lingering kiss there. “Guess I can wait. But only because I’m getting lucky twice in one day.”

She turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his as she gave him a playful look. “You are, but only if you help me set the table.”

“Deal,” he agreed with a grin, reaching for a nearby dish towel to dry his hands, already planning to make up for lost time later.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7 @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque

[cumplane-forever]

dad aeroplane!'s not getting out of my head. so here's some notes that kinda pick up after the ending of this post.

later that evening, luo binghe is summoned to the bamboo house. the rumor has spread over the 12 peaks, so even the bullies give him pitying looks. lbh panics because he's certain sqq is going to take the opportunity to finish him off.

LBH stares at Shen Qingqiu. . "You want me to sleep here?" "If you ever take that tone with me again, I will cut your tongue out. And I won't repeat myself."

or maybe:

"You're actually my father?" SQQ curses the chain of events that lead him here. "What did I say about your tongue. I have only said that it might be so," he lies. "Your face looks identical to your mothers." Lbhs stony expression twists at that. His next question might have been whether he knew his mother, but the implications of what exactly sqq might have to say about his mother apparently help him keep his mouth shut.

SQQ decides that even if the protagonist hates the father who abused him, he can balance the abuse with help. an abundance of it.

maybe he starts out by arranging weekly teaching sessions in the bamboo house. the convenient little side room is converted into a study hall and he relentlessly grills luo binghe on whatever he's set him to learn by the end of a shichen.

luo binghe does not appreciate this. he's not allowed to do anything else in the house except cook for himself on the times he'll be late to dinner.

if he's allowed to stay in the bamboo house it is the same deal.

sqq forgets to consider how much he's come to think of the bamboo house as a sanctuary, he doesn't realise that Luo Binghe is learning his bad habits and tells, and he especially doesn't notice when he takes a bite of Luo binghes congee and mutters that it needs more flavour.

by this time it's been an year. lbh's revenge planning does not withstand in the face of his pettiness. the comment on his cooking is the last straw and LBH pesters shizun about exactly how his recipes and cooking need improvement.

this may somehow lead to binghe realising his shizun may be a human and not just an immortal peak lord .. and then refusing to acknowledge that because it would mean he has to sympathise. with the man who abandoned him

my thoughts on how aeroplane would be as sqq are that on one hand he could fix pidw so well! but on the other hand.

(yk before i read the aeroplane extras i was convinced that aeroplane was sent early into pidw to repent or whatever. narratively you could argue that he's paying for sacrificing integrity for money.

but what about repentance for being evil? that villainous shit? idk i expected a plot twist where he knew that pidw was real all along and was paying for having written such an ending. so i'm just saying. maybe a recently dead aeroplane acted way more like bingge than would be good for anybody.)

anyways in this au he's just also anxiety, but overworked anxiety.

aeroplane pov:

on the other side of this there's a somewhat panicked 20-something year old who died alone and without closure. the only improvement in his life so far has been fresh food? clothes? the ability to touch grass maybe? if he isn't kept busy with strategising and scheming and fixing the shitty body the original shen qingqiu left behind he's having a crashout on a weekly schedule. so being nice to Luo Binghe isnt exactly easy, but being a deadbeat dad is out of the question when he's this close to changing his fate. Something he's learnt from his father's step children is that teenagers just want space and to be heard. So he. . does that. It's also convenient that the system has unlocked OOC, but only for luo binghe he's fine with that, as long as the system lets him death glare back at the an ding peak lord when the man glares at him. oh yeah, and good food! kids like that right? cooking is a hobby he's always loved but never been able to indulge in. It's something of a learning curve to understand the mechanics of the xianxia kitchen, but there's only one hurriedly covered up(from the other peak lords) burning incident before SQQ proves to LBH he can in fact be trusted with a hearth.

next part

[ijustwannabecool]

Family Vacation

Lewis Hamilton x Wife!Reader

————————————

This is my first ever piece of work.

Please let me know how I did.

If you have any requests, feel free to let me know!

Have a beautiful day and enjoy a very short story about a day in Lewis Hamilton’s summer break with his wife and kids.

————————————

The sun is warm on your skin as you walk down the boardwalk, holding Sofia’s small hand in yours. Her excited voice fills the air as she chatters about the seashells she’s collected, while Luca rides high on Lewis’ shoulders, giggling as his father pretends to stumble with every step. It’s a peaceful day—one of the rare ones when it’s just the four of you, no race schedules, no cameras, just the simplicity of being a family.

But then you see them: a young couple walking toward you, phones in hand, whispering to each other as they recognize Lewis. You’ve gotten used to it by now—strangers stopping him, asking for photos, even when all he wants is to be Dad, not the world-famous driver. You glance up at him, and he meets your eyes, giving you that knowing smile. It’s the smile that says he’ll handle this, like always.

“Excuse me, are you Lewis Hamilton?” the man asks, his voice a little shaky with excitement. You watch as Lewis shifts Luca off his shoulders, setting him down gently before turning to the couple with his usual calm.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he says, polite but relaxed, as if this doesn’t happen everywhere you go.

“We’re huge fans,” the woman chimes in, holding up her phone. “Do you mind if we take a quick photo? We don’t want to interrupt your day too much.”

You step in, your voice soft but firm. “Just one quick one, okay? We’re having some family time.”

They nod, all wide smiles and quick apologies, clearly respectful of the boundary you’ve set. Lewis crouches down to pose, the moment passing as smoothly as possible. You watch him smile for the camera, but what touches you most is how quickly he turns back to Luca and Sofia, his real focus always returning to them.

As you walk away, you slip your arm around his waist. “You handled that really well,” you murmur, leaning into him for a moment. His arm wraps around you in return, that small gesture of affection you’ve come to rely on.

“They were nice,” he says, his voice light, his eyes on the kids who are now running ahead toward an ice cream stand. “But I’ve got my real fans right here.”

That evening, after the kids are tucked into bed, you and Lewis sit on the balcony of the little villa you’ve rented. The stars above are bright, the ocean calm, and the night air is cool and comforting. There’s a bottle of wine between you, but neither of you reach for it. You’re just content to be here, together, after so many weeks of constant motion.

Lewis takes your hand, his fingers weaving through yours. “You know,” he says quietly, breaking the silence, “I sometimes forget how much I miss this. Just you and me. No races, no crowds. Just us.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his hand, the steady presence of him beside you. “You give so much of yourself to your fans and your team,” you say, tracing the curve of his jaw with your fingers. “It’s nice to see you unwind, to just be here with us, with me.”

“I’m trying,” he admits, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But when I’m with you, it feels easy.”

You turn toward him, studying the face you’ve seen in so many places—on screens, in photos, in the roar of the crowd. But here, in the quiet, he’s just Lewis. “I love you,” you whisper. “But I think I love watching you with the kids even more. Seeing you just… be normal.”

He laughs, pulling you closer, and it’s a sound you’ll never tire of. “Normal, huh? I think I can get used to that.”

You kiss him then, deeply, with all the love you feel for him, the man who is both a world-class driver and simply yours. The stars twinkle above, the ocean whispers in the background, and for this moment, the world belongs only to the two of you. It’s not the spotlight, not the races, but this—this quiet love—that feels like the real victory.

[dadyscumslutprincess20]

heyy, hope you're doing well!

i REALLY hope this isn't gonna make you or anyone else uncomfy but can you write smut for sub yeon sieun (weak hero class 1) and male reader?😭

if you write this, thank you!!

OMG FINALLY😩!!All here for BL!! I’ve been waiting for a male or someone to ask for male x male. Remember I don’t judge anyone (unless you ask for something with incest , rape or sexual assault) than I’m happy to write it love✨also don’t feel weird I’m not uncomfortable so if you have anymore with other characters you’ll like send them in🥰

Sieun x male (all race) reader

Genre: Smut

Warning ⚠️: This is male x male if you don’t like , don’t read , I want all my supporters to feel safe here thank you!!

Sieun, a lanky high schooler with a mop of unruly hair, was hunched over his desk, eyes glued to the pages of a thick calculus textbook. His fingers traced the equations, committing them to memory with a fervor that bordered on obsession. He had been at it for hours, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and caffeine, oblivious to the world outside his academic bubble.

Meanwhile, in a small, cozy restaurant not far from their school, Reader sat alone, nursing a cup of cold coffee. He had been waiting for Sieun, their date planned meticulously, a rare moment of respite from their hectic schedules. But Sieun hadn't shown up, and his phone remained stubbornly silent, a black void of indifference. Reader's eyes flickered with a mix of concern and annoyance as he glanced at his watch, the hands pointing to a time long past their agreed meeting.

Reader decided he'd had enough. He stood up, leaving a few crumpled bills on the table, and made his way to Sieun's house. The walk was short, but his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He hoped Sieun was okay, but a part of him was also angry. He had been looking forward to their date, and Sieun's absence was a slap in the face.

As Reader approached Sieun's house, he noticed the lights were still on, a soft glow emanating from Sieun's bedroom window. He knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping against the wood with a sense of urgency. There was no response, so he tried again, this time louder. Still, nothing. He decided to try the doorknob, and to his surprise, it turned easily in his hand.

The house was silent, save for the faint hum of a computer and the distant ticking of a clock. Reader made his way upstairs, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. He pushed open Sieun's bedroom door, revealing the scene of academic chaos. Sieun was still hunched over his desk, completely engrossed in his studies.

"Sieun," Reader called out, his voice a mix of relief and irritation. Sieun jumped, startled, his eyes wide with surprise. "What the hell, man?" Reader continued, his voice rising. "We had a date. You stood me up."

Sieun blinked, his mind still foggy from hours of intense studying. "I... I'm sorry," he stammered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I completely forgot. I've been studying for the SATs, and I just... I lost track of time."

Reader's expression softened, but only slightly. He walked over to Sieun, his eyes never leaving his boyfriend's face. "You can't just forget about me, Sieun," he said, his voice low. "You can't just forget about us."

Sieun looked up at him, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and desire. He reached out, his hand cupping Reader's cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am."

Reader leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. When he opened them again, they were filled with a different kind of hunger. He grabbed Sieun's wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. "You need to make this up to me," he said, his voice husky.

Sieun's breath hitched, his body responding to the sudden change in Reader's demeanor. He nodded, his eyes never leaving Reader's face. "How?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Reader smiled, a slow, sensual curve of his lips. He leaned down, his breath hot against Sieun's ear. "Let me show you," he murmured, his hands already moving to unbutton Sieun's shirt.

Sieun's heart pounded in his chest as Reader's hands explored his body, each touch sending shivers down his spine. He let out a soft moan, his head falling back as Reader's lips trailed down his neck. He could feel the heat building between them, a fire that threatened to consume them both.

Reader's hands were quick and efficient, shedding Sieun's clothes with a practiced ease. Sieun, in turn, fumbled with Reader's belt, his fingers clumsy with anticipation. They laughed softly, a shared moment of intimacy amidst the heated passion.

Once they were both bare, Reader pushed Sieun back onto the bed, his body covering Sieun's. He could feel Sieun's heartbeat, rapid and erratic, matching his own. He leaned down, capturing Sieun's lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Sieun moaned into the kiss, his hands gripping Reader's shoulders, pulling him closer.

Reader's hands roamed Sieun's body, tracing the lines of his muscles, the curve of his hips. He could feel Sieun's arousal, hard and insistent against his thigh. He smiled against Sieun's lips, his hand moving to wrap around Sieun's length. Sieun gasped, his hips bucking upwards, seeking more friction.

Reader chuckled, his thumb circling the sensitive tip. "Patience," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "We've got all night."

Sieun groaned, his head thrashing against the pillow. "Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with need. "Please, Reader."

Reader smiled, his hand moving in a slow, torturous rhythm. "Tell me what you want," he commanded, his voice firm. "Tell me what you need."

Sieun's breath hitched, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. "You," he gasped. "I need you. Inside me."

Reader's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He released Sieun's length, his hand moving to grab the lube from the bedside drawer. He coated his fingers, his eyes never leaving Sieun's face. He could see the anticipation, the desire, the trust. It was intoxicating.

He leaned down, capturing Sieun's lips in another deep kiss as his fingers moved to prepare Sieun. Sieun moaned into the kiss, his body arching off the bed, seeking more. Reader chuckled, his fingers moving in and out, stretching Sieun, preparing him.

Once Sieun was ready, Reader positioned himself at Sieun's entrance, his eyes locked onto Sieun's. He could see the love, the trust, the desire. It was a heady mix, one that made his heart pound in his chest. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, giving Sieun time to adjust. Sieun's breath hitched, his eyes widening, but he didn't look away. He didn't break the eye contact.

Once he was fully sheathed inside Sieun, Reader began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. Sieun moaned, his hands gripping Reader's shoulders, his legs wrapping around Reader's waist. They moved together, their bodies in sync, their breaths mingling, their hearts pounding in unison.

The room was filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, the soft moans, the wet slapping of skin against skin, the occasional gasp or groan. It was a symphony of desire, a testament to their love, their passion, their need for each other.

Reader could feel the pressure building, his body tensing as he fought for control. He reached down, his hand wrapping around Sieun's length, stroking in time with his thrusts. Sieun's moans grew louder, his body tensing, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Come for me, Sieun," Reader commanded, his voice hoarse with effort. "Come for me."

Sieun's body obeyed, his orgasm ripping through him like a storm. He cried out, his body convulsing, his release coating their stomachs. The sight and sound of Sieun's pleasure sent Reader over the edge. He thrust one last time, his body tensing as he found his own release.

They lay there, their bodies entwined, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Reader could feel Sieun's heartbeat, steady and strong, matching his own. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Sieun's lips. "I love you," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

Sieun smiled, his eyes filled with love. "I love you too," he replied, his voice soft. "And I'm sorry. I won't forget again."

Reader smiled, his heart swelling with love. "Good," he said, his voice firm. "Because I won't let you."

They lay there for a while longer, their bodies cooling, their hearts content. They had weathered the storm, their love stronger than ever. And as they drifted off to sleep, entwined in each other's arms, they knew that no matter what challenges life threw at them, they would face them together.

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 12) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 7.4k notes: didn't realize how many things happen in this part until right now, take a long breath

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome @hufflepuff-16

tw: panic attack, mention of past abusive relationships, mention of past abuse

The next few days were chaotic for Kaz. He was working around the clock on a crucial deal, frustration mounting as complications arose. The thought of kidnapping everyone involved and locking them in a room until they reached an agreement crossed his mind more than once. His phone buzzed constantly, mostly with messages from Inej, urging him to join her in some remote corner of the world. Meanwhile, Jesper was relentless in his demands for attention, insisting on planning their joint birthday party. If being best friends wasn’t enough, they even shared the same birthday.

In the midst of this whirlwind, a message from Y/n made him pause. She had sent him two pictures of herself in different swimsuits, asking, 'Can’t decide the color'.

Kaz took a moment to study the images, appreciating her form and the swimsuits that highlighted it. The first one, a sleek black number, hugged her curves in all the right places, exuding a sense of sophistication and allure. The second, a vibrant red, contrasted beautifully with her skin, giving her a playful yet seductive appearance. His eyes traced the lines of her body, lingering on the way the fabric accentuated her waist and the gentle curve of her hips. He could almost feel the texture of the swimsuits under his fingertips, the thought sending a shiver down his spine.

Without much thought, he transferred 800 kruge to her, labeling the transaction ‘Both.’

Almost immediately, she replied, ‘I don’t think you know swimsuit prices.’

Kaz smirked at her response, typing back, ‘Do you need more?’

‘It’s too much!’ she protested.

‘I’m sure you’ll find something else to buy,’  he replied, feeling a rare sense of lightness.

‘:)’ was her only answer, but it was enough to make him smile.

He leaned back in his chair, momentarily forgetting the pressures of the deal, Inej’s incessant texts, and Jesper’s party plans. The thought of Y/n in those swimsuits lingered in his mind, a welcome distraction from the chaos.

With a sigh, Kaz returned to his negotiations, determined to push through the obstacles. But the images of Y/n, and the playful banter that accompanied them, stayed with him, a reminder of the choices and feelings he needed to confront.

***

Finally, after days, the deal was closed, and Kaz could breathe. As the car started moving, he undid his tie, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. The pressure had been immense, and now he just wanted to share this victory with Y/n. He dialed her number, anticipation buzzing in his chest.

“We fucking did it, love, I’m free,” he announced, his voice filled with excitement.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” she replied, but her voice was strained.

Kaz immediately picked up on it. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Due to poor scheduling, I had two very… demanding clients one after the other, and I’m exhausted.”

Hearing her talk about her job always stirred a rush of jealousy in Kaz. He hated the thought of her with other men, even if it was just for work. He clenched his jaw, trying to push the feeling aside.

“I wanted to take you out for dinner,” he said, hoping to distract himself with the idea of spending a relaxing evening with her.

“Can we do tomorrow, baby? I can’t move,” she sounded genuinely worn out, and his heart softened.

“Sure,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. “Come here?” she asked, her voice softening.

“Already on my way,” he replied without hesitation.

Y/n was wearing his underwear and a white crop top with ‘Virgin’ written on it. Her hair was up, and her eyes were half-closed, and Kaz thought she had never looked more beautiful. She got on her toes, linking her arms behind his neck to kiss him. “Hi,” she murmured against his lips, and he felt his knees ready to give in.

“I got you pizza. I think it’ll be here in 10 minutes,” she said, leading him to her room.

“Thank you, love. You didn’t have to,” Kaz replied.

Y/n shrugged, collapsing on her bed. Only in contrast with the white sheets he notice the bruises around her body. “What happened to you?” he asked, concerned.

“Very demanding clients, I told you.”

Kaz sighed, torn between wanting to know more and not wanting to know anything at all. “Y/n, did they hurt you?”

“Well, not intentionally. Don't worry, Kaz; it was really good,” she said, closing her eyes and resting her head on his lap.

His hands gently brushed against her bruises, trying to keep his thoughts in check. “Were you enjoying it?” The question came out harsher than he intended.

“Yes,” she said simply.

‘More than me?’ The words were on the tip of his tongue, ready to dangerously roll out, leading to really uncomfortable conversations. He sighed; they were both too tired for meaningless fights. Yes, he could get mad about her job, but then what? There was no point.

“Were you safe?” he decided to ask.

“Of course. I trust them. I don't do certain things with strangers or with new clients.”

Kaz hummed, stroking her hair. “Tell me about your deal, come on,” she encouraged him without opening her eyes.

He told her a summary of what had gone down in the past days, and she looked genuinely interested. They opened the pizza in bed, accompanied by a very expensive bottle of wine that surely deserved to be tasted on other occasions rather than with greasy pizza, on a bed, drinking directly from it.

“There's cheese on it. What are you going to eat?” he asked, shoving half a slice into his mouth.

“I'm just going to inhale deeply the smell and drink wine.”

"Y/n, cut the bullshit and eat," he said firmly, his concern for her health evident in his voice.

"Rude," she retorted, but he could hear the weariness in her tone.

He leaned forward slightly, meeting her tired gaze. "Y/n," he began softly, "I know you're tired. But you need to eat."

"I'm not hungry," she insisted, her voice quieter now, almost defeated.

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration and worry mingling within him. "Don't make a scene, love," he murmured.

Y/n sighed, exhaustion and resignation crossing her features. "I won't eat that; it looks disgusting," she protested weakly, avoiding his gaze.

"Just get something from your fridge," Kaz suggested, trying to keep his tone gentle despite his growing concern.

He watched as Y/n finally relented, disappearing into the kitchen. When she returned with a banana, Kaz felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Happy?" she asked, her tired eyes meeting his.

"Very much," Kaz replied, smiling softly.

After finishing their meal, Kaz and Y/n settled back into bed, finding comfort in each other's presence. Y/n lay on her back with Kaz's chest as her pillow, both absorbed in watching an episode of House on her tablet. Kaz absentmindedly traced patterns on her body, his mind finally relaxing after the past long days.

Lost in his thoughts, Kaz slid one hand under Y/n's shirt, a gesture that had become familiar between them. But this time, unlike before, he felt her flinch, a subtle but unmistakable reaction that instantly brought him back to the present.

“Y/n, is everything okay?” he asked gently, withdrawing his hand immediately.

“I… I won’t be able to have sex tonight, or anything else,” she blurted out quickly, her words rushed and tinged with anxiety.

Kaz remained calm, his concern growing as he sensed her distress. “It’s fine, Y/n. I’m pretty tired too,” he reassured her, trying to keep his voice steady despite the unease stirring within him.

But Y/n's breathing quickened, each breath coming in shallow gasps as if she couldn't get enough air. Kaz's worry deepened. “Hey, what's going on?” he asked softly, reaching out to gently touch her arm.

“I’m sorry, I can try if you want, but I-” Her voice trembled with panic, her eyes darting away.

“Are you listening to me? I said it’s fine, love,” Kaz insisted, shifting slightly to try and meet her gaze. He could see the fear in her eyes, as if she had seen a ghost.

Y/n suddenly moved away from him, her eyes fixed on him but seemingly unfocused. She started repeating apologies frantically, tears streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably.

“Everything is fine, you’re with me,” Kaz tried to reassure her, his voice soft and soothing, though uncertain of how to handle the situation.

“I know what you want from me, and I can’t… I can’t-” Her words were choked with emotion, her distress palpable.

“I don’t want anything, Y/n,” Kaz said firmly but gently, reaching out to hold her hand. “Just try to breathe. You’re safe here.”

Her panic seemed to intensify, her breaths erratic and shallow. Kaz's heart sank, feeling utterly helpless as he watched her struggle.

“Y/n, you’re not breathing properly. What is going on?” he asked urgently, his concern deepening into a knot of worry in his chest.

Finally, she managed to focus on him again, her tear-streaked face etched with anguish. “I… I can’t do this,” she managed to say between sobs.

Kaz's mind raced, trying to piece together what could have triggered such a severe reaction. “It’s me, Y/n,” Kaz said softly, his voice unwavering despite the turmoil inside.

Tears continued to fall from her eyes as she struggled to regain control. “I am nothing for you,” she muttered, her wide eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. “You just want me for sex and tonight I can’t-”

Kaz's heart raced as he watched Y/n struggle through the grips of her panic attack. Her words cut through the air with a sharpness that betrayed her fear, leaving Kaz feeling utterly helpless. He knew that touching her might worsen the situation, but he couldn't bear to see her in such distress.

“Y/n, you’re having a panic attack,” Kaz interjected gently, hoping to ground her in reality. His voice, usually steady, now quivered slightly with concern as he tried to reach for her hand again.

Her breathing remained erratic, each gasp tearing at Kaz's own nerves. “Don’t touch me. Please, let me go,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Kaz withdrew his hand immediately, a pang of guilt and worry twisting in his chest. He felt a surge of anxiety rise within him, unsure of how best to support her through this overwhelming episode. The sight of her pain, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily on him.

“I won’t hurt you, Y/n,” Kaz reassured, his voice a whisper amidst her sobs. “You’ll be okay. Just breathe.”

Her panicked words continued to spill out, trapped in a loop of distress. “I can’t give it to you, I can’t- I'm so tired, please,” she repeated, her gaze unfocused and terrified.

Kaz's mind raced, desperately trying to understand what had triggered such a severe reaction. He knew Y/n's job was demanding and often brought emotional challenges, but this level of panic was new and alarming.

“I know I’m nothing for you, but please, I don’t want to-”

Before things could escalate further, Kaz made a quick decision. He needed help, someone who knew Y/n well. Without another word, he left the room swiftly, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he sought out her roommates.

He found one of them in the living room, concern etched on her face as she saw Kaz's distressed expression. Without hesitation, he explained the situation, his voice urgent yet measured.

“It’s Y/n,” Kaz began, his voice catching slightly with worry. “She’s having a panic attack. I don’t know what to do.”

Y/n's roommate nodded understandingly, her face softening with empathy. “I’ll come with you,” she said firmly, leading Kaz back towards Y/n’s room.

Together, they entered the room where Y/n lay curled up on the bed, hugging her legs, her breathing still uneven. Kaz hovered anxiously in the doorway, feeling both relief and apprehension at having someone else there to help.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Y/n's roommate spoke softly, her voice a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. “We’re here for you.” 

Kaz stood back, grateful to see Y/n in the care of someone she trusted. He was about to speak, but his words caught in his throat when Y/n's tear-streaked face turned towards her roommate. There was a mix of fear and relief flickering in her eyes.

“Please let me go,” Y/n's voice was weak and shaky. “I am not an object.”

Kaz felt shock ripple through him at her words. He hadn't expected this plea, hadn't realized the depth of her emotional turmoil. His heart skipped several beats, feeling guilt and concern pressing heavily on him. He stood frozen in the doorway, feeling helpless as he watched Y/n's tear-streaked face, her distress palpable.

“No, you’re not, baby,” her roommate's gentle voice broke through the tense air. “You’re home now, it’s safe. No one wants anything from you.”

Gradually, Y/n’s breathing began to steady, the intense panic subsiding as her roommate guided her through calming breaths. Kaz remained by the doorway, silently observing, his worry for Y/n still palpable. He felt like an intruder in this intimate moment of vulnerability.

“Are you coming back to us?” the roommate asked softly, and Y/n nodded faintly.

“Kaz is here, do you want him to stay?” Y/n turned towards him, her eyes searching and uncertain. She nodded again, and Kaz felt a mix of relief and trepidation at being allowed into her space during such a fragile moment.

“Can I leave you alone with him? I’ll be just outside,” the roommate offered, and Y/n nodded once more.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming out of it,” Y/n murmured weakly, her gaze still distant but slowly regaining focus.

Kaz stepped cautiously into the room, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He approached Y/n slowly, unsure of how to comfort her but wanting desperately to do something. He sat down gently beside her on the bed, keeping a respectful distance but close enough to offer support if needed.

He could see the embarrassment etched on her face, her cheeks flushed with shame. She avoided his gaze, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap.

“Hey,” Kaz began gently, breaking the uneasy silence between them. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

Y/n let out a shaky breath, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kaz,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to... I just lost control. It was such a stressful day.”

Kaz reached out tentatively, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Y/n, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m just really worried about you.”

She finally looked up at him, tears still lingering in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice cracking with emotion, “My ex-boyfriend… he wasn’t the only abusive relationship I was in. I’m not used to people wanting to stay with me for more than sex.”

Kaz's heart sank even more, the weight of their complicated relationship pressing down on him like never before. He couldn't bear the thought of Y/n feeling used or undervalued, especially by him. The realization hit him hard, making him confront his own shortcomings.

Every promise he had made about leaving Inej, spoken in moments of vulnerability and passion, yet never followed through—each one now felt like a betrayal. He saw now how those empty assurances could have chipped away at her trust. Each time he had let Jesper's jokes about her job slide, dismissing them as harmless banter, he had unwittingly contributed to her feeling like she was only valued for her body.

The guilt was suffocating. He had been so caught up in his own struggles, his own fears, that he hadn't fully grasped the depth of hers. It wasn’t just about his complicated relationship with Inej or his clandestine meetings with Y/n. It was about seeing Y/n for who she truly was, beyond the surface, beyond the physical.

“Y/n, if I ever-”

“You didn’t, don’t worry.”

Kaz took a deep breath, steadying himself as he looked into her eyes. "I care about you. It's really important that you know that. For me, it's not just physical, Y/n."

"It would be so much easier if it was," she replied, her hand gently caressing his cheek. "Then you would hurt me, and I'd forget about you."

"I don't want this to end," he whispered back, his voice raw with emotion.

"Can we sleep now?" she asked, her voice small and tired.

"I just want to make sure you’re okay," Kaz insisted firmly, his concern unwavering. Y/n nodded slowly, her shoulders relaxing slightly under his touch.

“Are you sure nothing happened today?” Kaz pressed, his worry evident.

“Yeah, it was just heavy. I pushed too much, triggered old memories,” she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness.

“Are you sure they didn’t hurt you?” he asked again, his eyes searching hers for any signs of distress.

“Yes, Kaz, they were just both into violent stuff, and I screamed my lungs out all afternoon,” she explained.

Kaz frowned, puzzled. “Are you into it?” he asked, trying to understand.

“Sometimes,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Are you sure that you like sleeping with me?” He couldn’t hold it in any longer. “You’re used to all these weird things that I don’t know anything about.”

“Of course I like it, love,” Y/n finally smiled at him, her expression softening. “It’s totally different having sex with a client and doing it with—” she stopped, uncertainty written all over her face.

“With?” he encouraged her, pulling her into his arms, hoping to give her the reassurance she needed.

They stared at each other for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. “With a friend,” she offered softly, her voice filled with sincerity.

Kaz nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Bet they don’t cuddle you after.”

She laughed, the sound like a balm to his worried heart. Tracing his jaw with her fingers, she continued, “You’d be surprised at how many of them just want simple things. Take all those men that take me on trips—they don’t have time to have an actual girlfriend, be there for her, build a family. So they just pay me to do it. Laugh at their jokes, praise them in front of their colleagues. They just want a wave of fake normalcy. And I like being a girlfriend for a week or two; it’s all I can handle.”

Kaz listened intently, his heart aching for the life she described. He realized how different their worlds were, yet how much he wanted to be a part of hers. "I get it," he said softly. "But with me, it doesn't have to be fake. You deserve more than just a week or two of normalcy."

Y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hope and fear. "I don’t know if I can handle more," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly.

Kaz held her closer, his resolve strengthening. “Nothing to decide right now.”

“I'm too tired to remind you how stupid this is.”

“Then shut up and go to sleep.”

Kaz woke up to what must have been the twentieth message she received. “I swear, I’m going to break your phone,” he muttered. Y/n had been awake for some time already, and he was resting his head on her stomach. With every new message, she giggled, making his head move slightly.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice full of amusement.

“Who is writing you all these messages at fucking sunrise?” he asked, annoyed, without opening his eyes.

“First of all, it’s 9 a.m.,” she corrected him. “Second, it’s Mother’s Day.”

“And you have a lot of children or a lot of mothers?” Kaz’s sarcasm was evident, his annoyance clear.

“Neither of them, actually. I have a lot of clients,” Y/n replied, playfully.

Kaz made a disgusted face, raising his head to look at her. “Hey, gorgeous,” she said, tilting her head to look at him before getting her attention back to her phone, giggling again.

“They’re really wishing you a happy Mother’s Day? It’s gross,” Kaz said, his tone laced with incredulity.

“It’s kind of sweet that all the men who sucked my tits feel the duty to wish me a happy Mother’s Day. You have no idea of the tips they’re sending me.” Y/n turned her phone to let him see the pile of notifications—messages and money transfers, one after the other.

Kaz stared at the screen, a mixture of shock and jealousy coursing through him. “It’s still weird,” he grumbled, resting his head back on her stomach. “And annoying.”

Y/n laughed softly, running her fingers through his hair. “I know it’s strange, but it’s just part of the job. They feel a connection, even if it’s superficial.”

Kaz closed his eyes, trying to block out the steady stream of notifications. “I don’t like it,” he admitted, his voice muffled against her skin.

“I know,” she said softly, her tone comforting. “But you don’t have to worry about them. They’re just clients.”

Kaz’s grip on her tightened slightly, his fingers tracing small circles on her side. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember that,” he confessed.

Y/n put down her phone and cupped his face, making him look up at her. “You’re not just a client, Kaz. You’re my friend, and you mean a lot to me.”

He nodded, feeling a bit reassured. “Okay,” he said softly, leaning into her touch.

“Good,” she replied, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” Kaz agreed, a small smile playing on his lips. “But if that phone goes off one more time…”

Y/n laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll put it on mute, just for you.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again and settling back down, feeling a bit more at ease.

“Come on, Kaz, wake up. It’s already past 11. How much are you going to sleep?” Y/n asked, her voice carrying a blend of impatience and amusement.

“All day,” Kaz mumbled, burying his face deeper into her abdomen.

“Oh, you’re even drooling on me. Disgusting,” she said, shoving him away gently.

“Sorry,” he replied, sitting up and wiping his mouth, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You know I have a life other than spending time with you, right?” she teased, getting up and disappearing into her wardrobe.

“I thought you spent your days waiting for my texts,” he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah, you wish. I have lunch with a friend, then I have to throw paint to a monument to protest against climate change, throw tear gas at the police, and I start work at 5,” she listed off, pulling out clothes and holding them up for inspection.

“Please don’t get arrested,” Kaz said, his tone carrying both genuine concern and exasperation.

“I can’t, I have to work. Are you listening to me?” She picked out an outfit and turned to him. “Do you think this works for lunch and saving the world?”

“Sure,” he replied absently, not really paying attention to the clothes but rather watching her with a fondness he didn’t often show.

“Do you want to come to the protest?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

“Absolutely not,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Climate change is not my problem.”

“What about your children? Or the children of your children?” she countered, raising an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled again, getting up and moving closer to her. He kissed her temple softly. “I’ll make sure not to have any.”

“Selfish,” she commented, rolling her eyes but smiling.

“What time are you off?” he asked, watching her as she finished getting dressed.

“Eight, I think,” she replied, checking her reflection in the mirror.

“Great, don’t make plans,” Kaz said, a hint of anticipation in his voice.

Y/n turned to him, a playful smirk on her lips. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“You’ll see,” he said cryptically, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

***

‘I’m outside,’ Kaz texted her at 8 sharp, and waited, leaning casually against his brand-new bike. A smirk played on his lips as he heard the sound of her footsteps descending the stairs.

When Y/n saw him, she stopped in her tracks, her mouth falling open. “What in the mid-life crisis is that?” she exclaimed.

Kaz’s smirk widened. He stood proudly next to his bike, a sleek, black Ducati with gleaming chrome accents and a matte finish. 

“Kaz, you’re too young to have a mid-life crisis, you know that?” she teased, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Do you like it?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Y/n circled the bike, taking in every detail. “Yeah, it’s so beautiful,” she said, admiration evident in her voice. “Oh, you even got the thing to hold your cane. I think we’re watching too much House, baby.”

Kaz made a crooked smile, appreciating her attention to detail. “Just an early birthday present from myself,” he shrugged nonchalantly, then offered her a helmet. “Want to go for a ride?”

Y/n looked at the helmet, then back at Kaz, her expression a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Yeah, but I’m fucking scared,” she laughed nervously. “Are you sure you can drive this thing?”

“Of course I can,” he assured her, his confidence unwavering. “Come on, trust me.”

She hesitated for a moment, then took the helmet from him, her fingers brushing against his. “Alright,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

Kaz helped her with the helmet, making sure it was secure before putting on his own. He mounted the bike with practiced ease and extended a hand to her. “Hop on,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Y/n climbed onto the bike behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. She could feel the powerful engine rumbling beneath her, the vibrations sending a thrill through her entire body.

“Ready?” Kaz asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Ready,” she replied, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

With a rev of the engine, they took off, the wind whipping around them as they sped through the city streets. Y/n’s initial fear melted away, replaced by exhilaration as they wove through traffic and took on the open road. Kaz’s confidence and skill were evident in every turn, every acceleration.

They rode for what felt like hours, the world blurring around them, a sense of freedom and adventure filling the air. Finally, Kaz brought the bike to a stop at a scenic overlook, the city lights twinkling below them.

Y/n removed her helmet, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed with excitement. “That was amazing,” she said breathlessly, her eyes shining.

Kaz smiled, his own heart pounding with exhilaration. “Told you it’d be fun,” he said, leaning in to kiss her softly.

She kissed him back, their surroundings fading away, leaving just the two of them in that perfect moment.

Kaz wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as they both took in the breathtaking view. The city lights below twinkled like stars, casting a serene glow over their moment of quiet togetherness. 

“Will you come to our birthday dinner?” he asked, his voice soft but hopeful.

Y/n glanced at him, then away, her gaze settling somewhere distant. “It would be weird, Kaz,” she said softly, her tone tinged with uncertainty.

“Why?” he pressed gently, not wanting to let the idea go just yet.

“Well, Jesper doesn’t like me, and it’s his birthday too. All of your friends will be there… I just don’t fit in the picture,” she explained, her voice carrying a trace of sadness.

“We’re friends, and it’s not true that he doesn’t like you,” Kaz tried, though even he knew his argument was weak.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in her eyes. “Come on, Kaz. You’ve heard the way he talks about me.”

Kaz sighed, knowing there was some truth to her words. “Jesper can be... opinionated. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.”

“He thinks I’m a distraction, that I’m not good enough for you,” she insisted, her voice tinged with frustration.

“Jesper has his own issues,” Kaz said, trying to placate her. “He doesn’t always understand other people’s choices. But that doesn’t mean he dislikes you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know anyone apart from you and Jesper. It would be weird,” she insisted, the hesitation clear in her eyes.

“I won’t leave your side,” Kaz promised, his grip tightening slightly, a subtle plea in his words.

“It would be even weirder. You’re still in a relationship, Kaz,” she reminded him gently but firmly.

He sighed, frustration mingling with resignation. “Me and Inej haven’t talked in days,” he said dryly, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Come on, you know it too. They would start asking questions we don’t know how to answer, and it would be embarrassing. They’ll make me feel like shit,” her voice became smaller, a hint of sadness creeping in.

Kaz felt a pang of guilt and frustration. He didn’t want her to feel like an outsider, but he couldn’t deny the truth in her words. The complexities of their situation, the secrecy, the unspoken feelings—all of it created a tangled web that made simple things complicated. But he really wanted her to be with him on his birthday, to share that day with her.

Kaz pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “I wish things were different,” he whispered, the words heavy with unspoken emotions.

“Do you really?” she replied softly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Admit it, love. The lies, the sneaking out, the secrets—you’re enjoying it.”

Her words struck a chord within him. He opened his mouth to protest, but a wry smile crept onto his face. She knew him too well. The thrill of their clandestine meetings, the adrenaline rush of stolen moments—it was intoxicating, and he couldn’t deny it.

“Okay, you caught me,” he admitted with a chuckle. “There’s something about it that makes everything more intense. But it’s not just that.”

She tilted her head, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “I know. I feel it too. It’s exciting, and I like that it’s not serious. It takes the pressure off.”

Kaz felt a pang of frustration. “At least think about the party,” he urged, trying to keep his tone calm and persuasive.

“Kaz, your birthday party with all of your friends is a girlfriend-kind-of-thing, not a whatever-we-are-doing thing,” she replied, shaking her head. “If you broke up, I might have considered it, but come on, it’s too much even for me. And one time I babysat the kids of the married man I was hooking up with.”

He winced at her bluntness, but he couldn’t deny the truth in her words. “I know it’s complicated,” he admitted, his voice softer. “But I want you there with me. It would mean a lot.”

She sighed, her expression softening a bit. “I get that, Kaz. But I’m not ready to be paraded around in front of your friends, pretending everything is fine. Especially not when things between us are so... undefined. What are you going to say? Who am I?”

Kaz hesitated, searching for the right words. “You’re someone I care about deeply. Someone who means a lot to me. Isn’t that enough?”

Y/n shook her head, her eyes filled with doubt. “It’s not that simple. Your friends will want details. They’ll want to know who I am and why I’m there. I don’t want to be put on the spot, and I don’t want to be judged.”

“I’ll handle it,” Kaz promised, his voice firm.

“Baby, please, it doesn’t make any sense. You know it, I know it, just let go,” Y/n pleaded, her tone gentle but resolute.

He sighed, a mixture of frustration and disappointment evident in his expression, “Fine.”

***

The day before his birthday, Kaz waited outside Y/n's apartment, glancing at his watch every few minutes. There was no sign of her car, and she was already pretty late. After a while, her familiar Mini turned the corner, and she parked almost straight, skidding slightly to a halt.

As soon as she got out of the car, Y/n started apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry for being late, Kaz.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a tennis racket?” he asked, puzzled.

“Oh, yeah. I’m seeing this guy who thinks tennis lessons count as dates. I'm pretty good too,” she replied nonchalantly, though she was still catching her breath.

“You’re pretty late,” he noted, trying to keep his tone light but failing to hide his annoyance.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” she said, taking his hand and leading him towards her flat. Once in her room, she started rummaging through her wardrobe, pulling out various outfits to find the perfect one for dinner. “I’ll be super quick, I swear.”

Kaz smiled as he reached into his jacket and pulled out four concert tickets, holding them up proudly. “Look what I found.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in delight. “Oh, saints, you found them? I’m going to kiss you!” she exclaimed, rushing over to him. She cupped his face, planting kisses all around it. “You’re amazing,” she kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” another kiss. “Fantastic,” she kissed his forehead. “I love you,” she kissed his lips.

Y/n turned to leave, Kaz gripped her wrist, pulling her back gently but firmly. “What did you just say?” he asked, his voice betraying curiosity and surprise.

The girl froze, slowly turning around, her eyes wide and her lower lip caught between her teeth. “What?” she asked, her voice unnaturally high.

“Care to say that again?” Kaz’s tone was gentle, but there was a serious undertone that made her heart race.

“Uh, thank you for the tickets?” she tried weakly, her eyes darting around the room, avoiding his intense gaze.

“Y/n,” Kaz repeated, his tone firmer, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes searched hers, filled with a mix of curiosity and determination.

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Oh, you know what? I was lying, 100%. Can't stand you,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. “Can I go have a shower? We're late,” she added, turning to leave again.

Kaz tightened his grip on her wrist, not letting her escape so easily. “Y/n, stop,” he said softly but insistently.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Kaz, please. Can we just drop it? It was a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean to say it.”

“But you did say it,” he countered, his eyes never leaving hers. “And I need to know if you meant it.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, clearly conflicted. The usually confident Y/n was visibly shaken, and for the first time since he had known her, Kaz saw her properly blush. “No, not as you think,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It was just a slip up.”

Kaz let go of her arm, still in shock. He watched as she hurriedly gathered her things, her movements quick and deliberate. Y/n really did get ready in record time, disappearing into the bathroom and emerging not much later with her usual confident demeanor restored. It was as if the vulnerable moment had never happened, and Kaz knew better than to push her with uncomfortable questions.

Hours later, the conversation was just a blur in the back of Kaz's foggy mind. “Stay on your knees, lift my hips,” Y/n instructed, arching her back in satisfaction. “Fuck, how can this feel even better?” he said, following her guidance. 

Y/n extended one of her legs to rest it on his shoulder. He barely registered the shift, too focused on the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. “Come closer, love,” she said between moans. Kaz immediately leaned in, marveling at her flexibility when her knee and shoulder almost touched under his weight. “Pilates is paying off, right?” she teased, noticing his amazed expression.

“Fuck, Y/n, please be mine,” he groaned, desperation lacing his voice.

“Yeah? I—” her smart reply died in her throat as his tongue began playing with her nipple. 

“I want to be with you, every day,” he murmured against her skin.

“Every day?” she echoed, her voice trembling with pleasure.

“Every damn day, Y/n. Please, let’s try it.”

“Why do you become so needy during sex?” she asked, her breath hitching as he continued.

“Because you deserve all of it. Move in with me,” he said, assaulting her neck with kisses, his pace never faltering.

“Sure, baby, whatever you want,” she replied, her voice heavy with lust and affection.

“I want everyone to know you're mine.”

“Am I?” she challenged, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Did I agree on that?”

“Since you can't make a decision, I'll take one for you,” he said with a possessive growl, his hands gripping her tighter.

Y/n smiled between quick breaths, cupping his face and kissing him deeply. “Then what?” she teased.

“Then you'll leave your job and spend the days throwing my money away,” he said, his voice low and intense.

“I don't know if it feels better what you do or what you say,” she admitted, her body arching into his touch. “Harder, love. Don't be scared, I won't break.”

Kaz obliged, increasing his intensity, his mind and body completely consumed by her. Every touch, every word, every shared breath solidified his desire to make her his in every way possible. He moved with purpose, his grip tightening on her hips as he thrust deeper, his eyes locked onto hers, drinking in every expression of pleasure that crossed her face.

“More, love, please, don’t stop talking,” she pleaded, her voice a mixture of desperation and ecstasy.

“You're everything to me, Y/n,” he murmured, his words punctuated by the rhythm of their movements. “I need you, every day, every night. I want to wake up next to you, fall asleep holding you.”

Her hands clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin as she pulled him closer, urging him to go harder, faster. “Yes, baby, just like that,” she moaned, her head falling back against the pillow, lost in the sensations he was giving her.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion. 

She responded with a cry of pleasure, her body trembling beneath him. Her voice hitched as a wave of ecstasy washed over her, her muscles tensing and then releasing in a shuddering climax.

He watched her, mesmerized by the sight of her unraveling beneath him, and it pushed him over the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he followed her into bliss, his own release crashing through him with an intensity that left him breathless.

For a few moments, they lay tangled together, their breaths mingling as they came down from the high. Kaz’s hands caressed her skin, his touch gentle and reverent. His mind was a mix of intricate thoughts, emotions swirling within him like a storm.

“Y/n, I—” he began, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

“Don’t,” she cut him off harshly, her tone sharp enough to slice through the intimacy of the moment.

Kaz sighed, looking at her. Her hair was a wild mess on the pillow, a halo of disarray framing her face. Her neck bore a small constellation of his bites, each mark a testament to their passion. It was really difficult to concentrate on rational thoughts when she looked so utterly captivating.

“But—” he tried again, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

“I’ll run away if you say it,” she warned, her eyes flashing with fear and determination.

Kaz paused, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the war between her desire to stay close and her instinct to push him away. He knew this was a delicate moment, one that required careful handling.

“Alright,” he conceded softly, his hand tracing a soothing path along her arm. “Would you? Move in with me?”

Y/n sighed, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. “Why do you want to rush things?”

“We could be roommates,” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “I promise I’m not that messy.”

“Yeah, sure, let’s complicate things a bit more,” she replied, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“That’s the spirit, love,” he said, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “I won’t leave my job, Kaz. You know that, right?”

“I’ll keep checking,” he replied, his tone serious despite the playful banter. He wanted her to know that he was committed to supporting her, no matter what.

Y/n hummed softly, resting her head on his chest. “I can’t stop thinking about all the fun things I’m going to teach you. I’ll make you my perfect toy boy.”

Kaz chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. “Toy boy? I’m older than you, you know.”

“Shut up,” she retorted, smacking his chest lightly. “Age doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ll learn.”

“Learn what, exactly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, so many things,” she purred, her voice taking on a teasing edge. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Kaz felt a rush of excitement at her words. Despite the complexities of their relationship, the idea of exploring new experiences together was undeniably appealing. “I’m looking forward to it,” he admitted, his voice low and sincere.

“I am crazy for how talkative you become once you start to get loose,” she said, tracing patterns on his chest with her finger.

Kaz laughed softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “I suppose you bring that out in me.”

“Good to know,” she replied with a playful grin, leaning up to press a kiss against his chin.

He captured her lips in a gentle kiss, savoring the taste of her. 

***

Kaz waited anxiously through the entire birthday dinner, hoping that Y/n would change her mind and show up. Even that morning, she had assured him she didn’t, but still, he held onto a flicker of hope. Throughout the evening, everyone kept asking about Inej, and Kaz did his best to dodge the questions. Their texts had grown increasingly sparse, and she had only called briefly to wish him a happy birthday while Y/n was still asleep next to him.

After dinner, the plan was to meet at the Crow Club. Naturally, the birthday boys went together, and that year it was Kaz’s turn to stay somewhat sober and drive. They were halfway there when Y/n called him. Kaz answered from the car, his heart skipping a beat. “Y/n, you’re on speaker. Jesper’s here.” He really hoped that she had changed her mind and was ready to join the rest of the party.

But her voice trembled, sending a chill down his spine. “Aleksander, where are you taking me?”

Kaz and Jesper exchanged puzzled looks. “Relax, doll, it’s just a drive,” the unfamiliar voice replied.

“You kidnapped me, you’re pointing a gun at me and driving like a madman. I tend to worry in these situations,” Y/n’s voice quivered with fear.

Kaz’s blood ran cold. He exchanged a worried glance with Jesper, who was now just as tense.

“You know I would never hurt you, doll,” Aleksander said with a sinister calm.

“I’m pretty sure you already broke two of my ribs,” she shot back, the fear barely masked by her sarcasm.

Kaz and Jesper paled at the sound of a sinister laugh on the other end of the line. “I did it for you, so maybe you’ll stop being a stupid slut.”

“Where are we going?” Y/n asked, her voice a mixture of fear and defiance.

“To our place, of course.”

“Maybe I need a reminder. You know, I have so many boyfriends to keep track of,” she said, trying to buy time.

“You know where,” Aleksander responded ominously.

“Alex,-” her voice cut off sharply.

“Are you on the phone with someone? You fucking whore,” Aleksander snarled.

They heard the noise of a commotion, then Y/n’s piercing scream, “It’s at the old lighthouse, Kaz, please help me!”

The phone call ended abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in the car. 

[capricorn-writes2]

Ganz Sans, Reaper Sans, Error Sans and Toxic Sans Helping S/O with Their Homework

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Hey Lil's! Long time not chatting, and I'm happy that I finally can talk to you again after everything, and thank you so much for being a great friend and a great reader! I'm so happy that you read my book ^.^

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Profanities

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Ganz - GZTale

Ganz doesn’t talk much, but his presence speaks volumes. He pulls up a chair beside you, arms crossed, eyes scanning the page like a detective at a crime scene. “That’s wrong,” he mutters, pointing silently to your third mistake.

If you're stressed, he gets uncharacteristically gentle. His gloved hand rests lightly over yours, grounding you when your brain starts spiraling.

Ganz makes sure you're taking care of yourself too. “Get up. Drink water. Stretch,” he commands like a mob boss giving orders. You grumble, but he already brought you your favorite snack without asking.

He sits through your long study rants with surprising patience. You’re rambling about the mitochondria or Shakespeare or whatever’s on the test. Ganz just nods occasionally, eyes narrowed with pretend interest.

He hates messy notes, so he rewrites yours when you’re not looking. He would be handing back your cleaned-up notebook. Every word is written in blocky and clean lettering.

Ganz never mocks you for asking questions. You used to be afraid of sounding dumb until you saw the way he looked at you. Like you were smart just for trying.

He secretly keeps a copy of your schedule so you will not forget to work on your homework or study. He also uses it to bring you snacks or send a quick message when he knows you’re stressed.

You once caught him reading your textbook when he thought you were asleep. He tried to play it off like he was bored, flipping through pages casually. But you noticed he was on the same chapter you were struggling with earlier.

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The room was quiet except for the ticking clock and the soft scratch of pencil against paper. You sat hunched over your desk, lips pressed tight in frustration as your latest homework sheet glared up at you like it had a personal vendetta. Formulas danced across the page like nonsense poetry, and the longer you stared, the more it felt like they were mocking you.

With a sigh, you let your head drop onto the desk. “I’m gonna lose it,” you mumbled. A gentle knock tapped once at your door—rhythmic, even. You already knew who it was. “Come in,” you muttered, not even lifting your head. The door creaked open, and in stepped Ganz, eyes dim but alert, expression unreadable as always.

He didn’t speak right away. He just took a long look at the scattered notes, the tensed curve of your shoulders, and the textbook thrown to the side like a battlefield casualty. “You’re overthinking it again,” he said quietly. It carried that calm weight, like it didn’t matter how chaotic the world was, he wasn’t moving.

He stepped closer, pulling out your second chair and sitting beside you. His bones creaked softly as he leaned forward, resting one hand on the desk while the other tapped near your worksheet. “Show me where you’re stuck.” You hesitated. Ganz wasn’t exactly a tutor type. He was more the quiet protector, the silent observer. But he always seemed to know when to show up and when to stay.

You slid the paper toward him and pointed at the question that had been giving you grief for the past twenty minutes. He stared at it for a long second, sockets narrowing. “You forgot to flip the sign when you moved that variable; start there," he said, tapping gently on the part you scribbled repeatedly with his finger.

As you erased and rewrote, Ganz didn’t hover. He stayed still beside you, his presence calm and steady like a mountain beside a storm. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was comforting. You risked a glance at him as you solved the next step correctly, and though his expression hadn’t changed, his gaze flicked to yours briefly. “There you go,” he said, his voice just slightly softer.

Time passed in steady breaths and pencil scratches. You’d stopped noticing how hard the homework was. Every time you paused, Ganz was there, pointing out a mistake, nodding when you got it right, and sliding your water bottle closer when your focus started to drift. He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. Just being there made the weight in your chest ease.

Eventually, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head with a groan. “I actually finished it,” you said, half in disbelief. Ganz let out a short, low chuckle. "Told you. You get too cold when you focus. You forget stuff like that," he said, standing up and pulling your blanket from the bed. Without a word, he draped it over your shoulders.

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Reaper Sans - Reapertale

Reaper doesn’t knock when he comes in to help. He just silently appears in your room, shadows curling in the corners, and asks, “Need help?” in that soft, hollow voice. It still startles you every time, but he never means to scare you.

Reaper doesn’t fully sit down. He’ll float slightly above the chair, cloak curling under him, hands tucked in his sleeves until he needs to point something out.

He’s actually very methodical. Despite his chaotic world, Reaper’s mind is organized; he understands structure, sequences, and cause and effect well. That makes him great at breaking things down, especially in subjects like math or science.

He uses metaphors when teaching. Instead of saying, “Subtract this,” he might say, “Remove the weight from this side to balance the soul.” It’s dramatic, yes. But you kind of love it. Makes algebra feel like spellcasting.

Reaper is not great with technology. If your homework involves typing or online submissions, he’ll kind of… float behind you, squinting at the screen, muttering things like “Why does this rectangle glow and beep?”

Sometimes Reaper Sans reads your textbooks aloud in that soft, eerie tone. It somehow makes even boring history sound like ancient lore or when biology sounds like he's casting a spell.

If you stay up too late, he’ll phase through the wall holding tea. He’ll close your books with one hand and offer you the warm cup with the other. You’ve learned not to argue; he’s always right about your limits.

He doesn’t smile often, but when you get something right on your own, he looks at you like you’re the only light in the Underverse. “You shine brighter than most souls I’ve collected,” he murmurs with a soft smile.

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The glow of your desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, the only source of light in the otherwise dim space. You stared at your homework sheet, your pencil hovering over the page, but your thoughts were scattered, too tired to focus. The numbers swam before your eyes, mocking you.

You’d been at it for hours, and it felt like you were getting nowhere. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips, and you buried your face in your hands. "I can't do this anymore," you wanted to cry and just dump it in the trash can. This subject isn't really your forte.

Suddenly, a soft, chilling air ran through the room, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Before you could look up, the shadows in the corner of your room shifted, and there he was, Reaper Sans, standing just beyond your desk, his glowing eyes fixed on you. You jumped, not expecting him to appear.

He simply tilted his head, as if he already knew exactly what was happening. “You’re stuck,” he said, his voice calm and detached but with an underlying thread of understanding. You looked up at him, momentarily taken aback by his presence.

His voice was calm and kinda echoey, like death itself but not scary. Well, not that scary anymore. “Gee, thanks for the observation, Mr. Grim Reaper,” you muttered, rolling your eyes and flopping back dramatically in your chair. He didn’t react. He never really did. But somehow, you could see the tiny smirk under that skeletal face.

Without saying another word, he floated closer, pulling up your chair with a flick of his hand like he wasn’t even touching it. He leaned over the page, scanning your messy numbers. “You forgot the negative here,” he said, pointing it out like it was obvious. You blinked. “Wait, that’s why it wasn’t working? Ughhhh.”

Reaper nodded like a tired tutor who’s been through this a thousand times. “Math is like balance. You tip it wrong, it crumbles.” You squinted at him. “That’s… morbidly poetic. Kinda cool, actually,” You always know how poetic he is. Little by little, he helped you walk through each step. He didn’t rush you. Didn’t sigh when you made mistakes. He j

He just calmly pointed at the page and gave short, super cryptic explanations like 'Restore the balance between life and death' or 'Shift the soul to the other side of the realm' kind of explanation. Was he still talking about math? Who knows? But weirdly, it helped making you understand the homework more.

You started figuring it out. Like, for real this time. The numbers weren’t swimming anymore, and your brain didn’t feel like it was on fire. At one point, you looked over and caught Reaper just… watching you. Quietly. His head tilted a bit like he was reading something deeper than your homework. “You’re catching on fast,” he said, barely above a whisper.

The last problem took some time, but when you finally solved it, you legit gasped. “I did it!” you said, turning to him with a big grin. Reaper didn’t smile, he never did but his eyes glowed a little warmer. “Told you,” he murmured. And for a second, you could see a very tiny smile on him.

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Error Sans

He pretends to hate homework and grumbles about how it’s a waste of time, but when he sees you stressed out, he glitches next to you with a sigh and helping you.

His glitching increases when he’s concentrating, especially when the question is really tricky. He pauses mid-answer to reboot his thoughts, and you have to wait while he growls.

He helps in his own weird way, like rewriting practice problems but turning them into monster battles or weird AU-themed questions. “If a Glitchtale dragon eats four timelines, how many universes are left?” It’s ridiculous, but it makes you smile.

If you’re tired, he wraps a blue string around your wrist and tugs gently. “Break time. I don’t care what page you’re on.” You resist at first, but he scoops you up and plops you in a glitchy beanbag he made from nowhere.

He sometimes glitches your calculator and “improves” it by making it shout your answers out loud. It’s weird, chaotic, and almost gave you a heart attack. “2x2 is FOUR! YOU’RE WELCOME!” The calculator schout as he cackles. You threaten to ban him from electronics for a week.

He creates a mini glitched clone of himself as your tutor. It zips around yelling answers and giving sass, and you can’t tell if it helps or distracts you. “My glitch gremlin is smarter than your entire class,” Error says proudly. You’ve named it “Error's Gremlin”

If you fall asleep mid-assignment, Error doesn't wake you right away. He wraps you in his string and quietly finishes the rest of the page for you. Your handwriting is suspiciously neater. He pretends it wasn’t him, but you find a little glitchy heart drawn in the corner.

He won’t say the words “I’m proud of you,” but every time you complete something, he spawns confetti or hands you a pixel heart. It’s his way of saying he’s proud, because emotions are hard, okay?

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It started with your head slumped over the desk, pencil halfway falling out of your fingers, and your textbook looking like it had just declared war on your brain. The numbers weren't math anymore. They were alien code from some forgotten dimension. "I’m gonna dropkick this homework out the window.” You groan, mumbling the math homework is too difficult.

And that’s when he showed up with a half-glitch, half-snort from across the room. Error appeared behind your chair with a loud buzzing sounds and a whole lot of judgment in his eyes. “Y’know, for a human with a brain, you sure act like you ain’t got one sometimes,” he teased, leaning on the back of your chair.

You didn’t even flinch anymore. You just sighed, nudging the worksheet toward him. “This stuff’s melting my soul," You wave the paper in front of his face. “Oh boo hoo, tragic,” he said with a lazy grin, eye flickering. “Move over, nerd. I’m not lettin’ my favorite disaster flop today," he stood next to you.

When he floated closer, leaning over your shoulder to get a look at the chaos you’d created. He tapped the paper with one long finger, his eye glowing as he scanned the problem. “Look,” he said, “this part's easy.” You blinked, trying to follow the logic he was laying out. “What… do you mean easy? This looks like alien code,” you roll your eyes. Error let out a tiny, annoyed chuckle. “Not even close. Let me break it down," His voice was smoother now, less sarcastic, as he started explaining things step-by-step.

You hadn’t realized how much you were actually starting to understand until the tension in your chest began to ease. “Okay,” you muttered, frowning at the problem again. “But, like, how is this supposed to make sense? Why do I need to know this? I don’t even like math!” You shouted. Error snorted, shaking his head. “I dunno, kid. Maybe the multiverse wants you to suffer, or maybe it's just a useless system that's been coded into your brain.” His voice turned teasing, but there was an underlying sense of care that you couldn’t quite place.

You followed his instructions as best you could, your confidence slowly building as his explanations made more sense. When you finally solved the problem, you let out a triumphant laugh. “I did it! I actually did it!” Error’s eye glinted in a way that almost looked like pride. “Huh. Looks like you’re not totally hopeless after all," he chuckles without any malice in it.

Of course, your celebration was short-lived. “Now, next question,” Error said, moving on without a second glance at your victory dance. “You’re not getting out of this that easy.” You groaned, but his low chuckle made you smile. Despite his gruffness, there was something oddly comforting about him being there, guiding you through your work. Even if he was a giant glitchy mess.

By the time the homework was done, the clock on your desk had long since ticked past midnight. You slumped back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head. "I think I’m gonna need a nap after that," you muttered. Error stood beside you, tapping his foot as if waiting for something. "Tch. You should be thanking me for saving your sorry self from total academic destruction."

He was right, though. Without him, you probably would’ve been stuck in a mental loop for hours. “Thanks, Error,” you said quietly, smiling at him as he floated there, looking like he was about to vanish into the shadows. His eye flickered for a second, a softer tone slipping through. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just-don’t make a habit of needing me for everything, alright?”

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Toxic Sans - Pollutiontale

Image Source: MidNightblogger (Deviantart)

Toxic Sans initially acts like he couldn’t care less about your homework, lounging with his feet up. “Ugh, homework? Can’t you just, like, pollute your brain with Netflix instead?” But the second you struggle, he shrugs and drags himself over, rolling his eyes.

Toxic leans over your shoulder, muttering, “You really let this junk pile up, huh?” He taps the paper with a bony finger, leaving a faint green glow around the margins. He acts like it’s a burden, but the little smirk betrays his interest in being close to you.

When you’re stuck on a math problem, he drifts over, his neon glow flickering with concentration. With a rough tap on the paper, he reorders your equations.

Toxic has a habit of drawing little toxic slime doodles on your worksheets. Sometimes they "talk" to each other in speech bubbles. You scold him playfully, but honestly, they make the homework more fun.

If you're too anxious to start, he doesn’t pressure you. He just sits quietly beside you, oozing chill energy. Eventually, the silence feels safe enough that you begin.

When he notices you're too tense, he forms a small toxic slime blob that are actually harmless to your skin. It wiggles on your desk and tries to high-five you or tries to hug your arms.

Toxic isn’t great with words, but when it comes to explaining a hard concept, he’ll break it down in the simplest way. It’s not the cleanest metaphor, but it clicks in your head. You nod in understanding.

After all the work is done, Toxic will act like he didn’t help you at all. “Pfft. You’d have done it without me. Don’t get all sappy now.” But the small, proud smile he gives you when he thinks you’re not looking says it all.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

It was the kind of rainy afternoon that made your brain feel soggy, too. You had a mountain of homework spread across your desk, and your brain felt like it had turned to literal mush. Math problems were swimming in your head, and your fingers hovered over your pencil, frozen. You groaned and smushed your cheek against the desk. “This is hopeless.”

From the window, a dark glitch flickered in and out of sight before finally materializing in the corner of your room. “Homework? Ew,” said Toxic Sans, dragging his words out like they tasted bitter. His skull glowed faintly green under your desk lamp. He leaned lazily against your bookshelf, like just being near your homework might kill him. You peeked up at him with a whimper. “Please help. I swear this worksheet is evil.”

Toxic sighed dramatically, plopping into your bean bag chair like a pile of toxic sludge. “Alright, but only because I’d rather not listen to you whine for the next hour.” He kicked his feet up, snapped his fingers, and summoned a floating calculator from the air. “Let’s melt some numbers, babe.”

His way of explaining math was… unconventional. “Imagine this number’s a gas leak, and this other one’s a match. What happens when they meet? Boom. You got a disaster. Which, apparently, is also the answer.” You roll your eyes at his ridiculous explanation despite yourself. It was weird, but it worked as the clogs in your brain finally move.

Slowly, the fog in your brain started to clear. When you got stuck on a science question, he glitch-warped right behind you and pointed over your shoulder. “You keep reading it like it’s complicated. It’s literally asking how pollution happens. Just write ‘humans exist’ and boom—accurate.” Well, he was right, shitty people cause the pollution since many people throw many dangerous waste to ocean.

You rolled your eyes, but somehow, his ridiculous suggestions gave you an idea. As much as it was a joke, you spun his words into an angle that worked for your paper. “I can’t believe I’m actually using your weird advice,” you muttered, smiling despite yourself. Toxic gave a lazy shrug. “Hey, you’re welcome. Don’t forget to cite me as your ‘genius’ source.”

By the time you finished, it was late. The clock blinked 1 AM, and you leaned back in your chair, exhausted but relieved. “I actually did it. I’m done,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. Toxic stood up and stretched, giving you one last glance. “Tch. You’re welcome, I guess. Don’t forget who saved your homework.” You rolled your eyes but felt a warmth in your chest. “Thanks, Toxic,” you said, your voice quieter. He smirked again. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get used to it, kid.”

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

❀

❀

[poweredbycoffee]

Good Morning, Good Night

Summary: Yunho wakes you up when he shows up late at night in your hotel room, but losing sleep is worth it. Rated teen for one swear word lol.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: boyfriend!Yunho x female reader

I’ve never tried this style of fic before but in the name of procrastinating a novel I should be working on I wrote it instead. Oops.

“Good morning…”

“Don’t you mean good night?”

Your voice was raspy with sleep as you fumbled for the switch on the lamp above your head then glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Mm, it’s one in the morning. It counts.”

Yunho smiled from the foot of the bed. “But it’s dark outside, therefore it’s still night. I rest my case.”

“Would you be willing to defend that in court?”

His smile widened to a grin. “If it’s still night I have more time with you. Any objections will be overruled.”

“…I have got to stop letting you watch Law & Order reruns with me.”

He moved to climb under the covers next to you, bare feet dangling over the slightly too small hotel bed, and pulled you into his arms. “No arguments. I won.”

“Oh? What did you win?”

“Your heart.”

Despite having been together for a year and a half, he still had the annoyingly endearing ability to make your ears turn red at a moment’s notice. Damn it. You wished you’d left the light off so he couldn’t see how much he’d gotten to you. How much he always had. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t seen each other in a month—the stars and your schedules having finally aligned in this room—but in two words he’d made you feel the same as you had the day you’d met. You bit your lip and looked down, trying to hide the color spreading across your cheeks. “You didn’t have to try that hard.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “If I don’t make you feel how precious you are to me when I’m here, you’d have less to remember when I’m away. I can’t leave you without that.”

“Yunho.”

“Hm?”

“No sane woman would forget being kissed behind the dorm for the first time when you thought no one was watching.”

He laughed and in his enthusiasm squeezed you tightly, making you squeak in a way that sent you both into fits of giggles. “Ah, yes, San said it was more exciting than the last episode of Single’s Inferno.”

“See? You remember that too.”

“I’ll never forget it.”

You’d have forgiven him if he had, given how he’d message you from a different country every few days while on tour, but he seemed to want to commit even the smallest details to memory. “Babe,” you’d ask when his gaze seldom wavered from across the dinner table. “Is there something on my face?” He’d only shake his head in reply and continue as if he was studying the curve of your smile. From any other man you’d been with it might have been unsettling, but with Yunho? It was how you knew he was going to do everything he could to make the time he had with you count.

You leaned your head on his shoulder and wrapped one arm around him as the faint scent of perfume that lingered on his neck eased you back toward rest. “So no matter what, we’re always with each other.”

He smiled and slowly kissed your forehead, the tip of your nose, and your mouth. “But a few more memories won’t hurt.”

“I thought you’d want to catch up on sleep. You’ve got, what, two days off until your next flight?”

“I can sleep in after I’ve caught up with you.” He reached up to turn the light off while his other hand slipped beneath your pajama top and pressed against your lower back, making it clear how he intended to spend the hours left until sunrise. “Good night…”

[broken-clover]

Solaxl Week- Day 4

Haha get befuddled, you assumed I was gonna do hurt/comfort, didn't you? Well, I'm doing something different!...mostly bc I couldn't think of any ideas I hadn't already done before.

It was fun to give these two a slightly different dynamic, because a lot of the gruff op solitary behavior of Sol couldn't happen back when he was a kid, and his knowledge of music and inclination for the sciences indicates that as a young'un he was probably a massive nerd. Axl, meanwhile, seems like he was always a little scrappy brat. Don't need an education to be a delinquent. It's fun having Sol be the one out of his league and awkward for once.

4- Band AU, Hurt/Comfort, Snowball Fight

-

It didn’t matter how much college prep bit into his schedule, he still wasn’t giving up on band. Frederick refused to give up on one of the few things that still made him happy.

With how studying had begun bleeding into any snippets of free time he had left, some corners still had to be cut. Study hall had been the most recent casualty, following in the footsteps of lunch period. Sure, he still brought food, but as soon as the bell rang, he’d tuck his books under one arm and head for the band storage closet. It had been his routine for a couple months now. He knew how it was supposed to go. Drop his stuff at the door, flick the switch, head for the guitar rack. Maybe a bite or two of lunch could get squeezed in. It depended on how he felt.

Frederick halted, staring. For the first time, he’d arrived in a storage closet that was occupied by more than just inert instruments.

“You can’t be in here.”

“Eh?”

The guy was perched on the chair’s two back legs- his chair, the same one he used every single time. That alone was enough to veer his confusion into annoyance. Frederick didn’t recognize him, but in fairness, it was a big school. The more he looked, the guy looked less and less familiar and more and more greasy.

Perhaps he didn’t want to sit in that chair after all.

“Was just chillin.’” The stranger replied, shrugging.

Frederick shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, unsure of what to do with his routine interrupted. “Band isn’t until sixth block, nobody’s supposed to be in here.”

“Yeah? So why’re you, then?”

It felt rather ass-backward to have his own motives questioned, but he chose not to say it, or to start a shouting match. He still had a bit of a reputation for being asocial, but not a total delinquent (in part because if he ever tried that, his parents would never let him live it down)

“I just came down for practice,” he replied. “Are you in study hall? I had all my work finished, so they let me go.”

The other boy snorted. “Heh! Nah, supposed to be in calc. Boo-ring. Hopped out the window, just gonna hang out here until lunch.”

Frederick was definitely sure he hadn’t met this person before. The rough edge to his voice and the thick accent was hard to mistake for someone else.

It suddenly struck him that there were only so many more minutes before the next class started, and he’d already wasted too many talking. Trying to regain some semblance of normalcy, Frederick left his books at the door and dragged a chair off of the pile by the wall. The rhythm of routine almost let him forget the intrusive stranger until he’d sat down again. The guitar’s weight was familiar in his lap, as was the music stand placed before him, but beyond the top of his sheet music, he could still see the guy staring at him with an oddly curved smile.

“Can’t you do that somewhere else? I don’t want someone to walk in and think I’m associated with you.”

“Why not? I’m awesome!”

“You’re a pain.” Frederick strummed the strings and felt along the instrument’s neck to tune one of them. “And I don’t want to get in trouble because of you.”

The other boy leaned forward in his seat, expression halfway between amused and angered. “Bloody hell, are you forreal? You’re one of those guys?”

Frederick paused his tuning. “What do you mean, ‘one of those guys?’”

“One of those little whiny crybabies that gets all bent out of shape just thinkin’ about getting told off. Lemme guess, you’re a straight-A student? Can’t even think about getting anything less than a hundred on everything?”

B-plus, and his parents wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. “M’not taking life criticism from someone who can’t sit through simple math for half an hour. What, does playing delinquent make you feel special?”

“I do it ‘cause I feel like it, you can’t tell me what to do!” Though his voice stayed steady, Frederick could see how the stranger was starting to go red. “And I’m not takin’ this kinda flak from someone who’s probably too much of a teacher’s pet to even swea-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

To his credit, he automatically did, too startled to speak. Frederick kept his scowl for a few moments more, then gave the guitar another strum. It sounded a lot better. He looked back to his sheets and tentatively repeated the first couple of notes…all the while he could still see himself being watched. He sighed in annoyance. “Like I told you already, I don’t want people to think we have anything to do with each other. Can you just hang out somewhere else?”

“Tch.”

Not much of an answer. The proper answer seemed to come in the form of the stranger sliding off his chair and cracking his neck. Instead of heading for the door, though, Frederick watched him approach the instruments. For a moment, he wondered if he’d start smashing things just to cause trouble.

“Well, then we will have something to do with each other, then!” He swiped another guitar off of the next hanger over. The chair he’d just been sitting in was hip-checked over closer to Frederick’s, and sat down far too close for his personal taste. “Whattaya playing? Got a second copy?”

Frederick jerked back. “You trying to breathe down my neck? Dammit, and be careful with that, don’t break anything! Do you know what you’re doing in the slightest?”

“Oh, you shut the fuck up, bloody poindexter.”

Before Frederick could think of sending a jab back, he was interrupted as the stranger started to play. The first few notes were rough, but…he hadn’t seen anyone else in band handle a guitar so carefully. Personal appearances were one thing, but Frederick had enough experience to recognize someone familiar with a guitar. And even if it wasn’t his favorite band, he’d recognize the iconic twangs of Cream’s ‘Sunshine of Your Love’ in his sleep.

He couldn’t hold back an impressed whistle. “Wow. Not bad, dirtbag. Surprised it wasn’t grunge.”

“Grunge’s fine, but I didn’t wanna scare ya~” Though he still had a smugness about him, Frederick could feel a little more warmth in the stranger’s tone. “So whatta you play?”

I like the classics.” He replied with pride. “Queen’s the best.”

“Nice, same boat. Folks tell me I like ‘dad music’ ‘n I tell ‘em their taste’s shit.” Frederick was offered a hand. “Guess you ain’t all bad. ‘m Axl, Axl Low.”

He took what was offered and shook. “Frederick Bulsara.”

Axl started to laugh. “Of course yer name’s Frederick.”

“H-hey, stuff it. I don’t believe for a second ‘Axl’ is your real name, either.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, Freddie. So, you said you came down fer practice, this a hobby?”

Frederick adjusted himself in his chair, settling the guitar across his lap. “Kinda. I like doing it for fun, but band class gives it a little more structure. And I’ve been doing it long enough that Professor Ringo lets me submit songs for us to do. Don’t think I’ve seen you in the orchestra, have I?”

“Don’t do band.” Said Axl. “Don’t like ‘em tellin’ me what to play. But I guess if you’re doing good shit this semester…”

“Yeah, here, lemme show you the stuff I got- “

The moment he tried to reach for his sheet music, the bell began to ring. Frederick looked down at his watch. “Shit, how’s it been that long?! I didn’t even get any practice in!”

Axl snickered, taking both of their guitars and putting them back on the rack. “Careful, Freddie, people are gonna think you’re some kinda delinquent, late for class and using dirty words like that.”

“Oh yeah, you’d know all about that-” He frantically gathered his things, shoving the music stand back with the others. In his haste, he’d forgotten to take the sheet music off first, and the motion sent them flying “Dammit!”

“Got it, I got it,” Axl knelt down and started gathering them up. From his pocket came a cracked pen. Frederick didn’t have a chance to say anything before he’d already started writing something on one of the papers.

“What are you doing? Don’t mess it up!”

“Chill, yeesh.” Once his self-appointed task was finished, Axl handed everything back to its owner. “Just giving you my contact info. Uh, hey, drop me a text later, got it? Dunno how to sign up for classes, maybe you could show me? Or heck, just send me some vids of the stuff you play, I wanna see your technique.”

He spoke too fast for Frederick to keep up. “Huh? What- “

“See ya, mate!”

Though he was still worried about next class, he was too bewildered to do anything but stare at the empty doorway where Axl had just been. Turning over the stack of sheet music, sure enough, there was a string of numbers and under the strange boy’s name.

What a peculiar encounter. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Though he did have a softer spot for someone who could appreciate the classics. Maybe it would be worth keeping in contact? When he had a moment between classes, Frederick would try to memorize Axl’s number and put it into his contacts…He’d have to ask why there had been a scratchy heart scribbled next to it, anyway…

[microlearningplatform]

The Forgetting Curve in Action: Why Traditional Training Fails and How to Fix It

The Forgetting Curve and Its Relevance for Trainers: How to Maximize Knowledge Retention

Introduction

One of the biggest challenges trainers and learning professionals face is ensuring that employees retain and apply what they learn. The Forgetting Curve, a concept introduced by German psychologist Hermann Ebbinghaus, highlights a harsh reality: people forget nearly 50% of newly learned information within an hour and up to 90% within a week if the learning is not reinforced.

This article explores the impact of the Forgetting Curve on corporate training and presents science-backed strategies to help trainers design programs that enhance retention and performance.

Understanding the Forgetting Curve

The Forgetting Curve visually represents the decline of memory retention over time. The steep drop in recall occurs because the brain prioritizes information it deems useful and discards the rest.

Why Does the Forgetting Curve Happen?

🔹 Lack of reinforcement – Without reviewing or applying knowledge, learners forget it quickly. 🔹 Information overload – Employees often receive too much content in a short time, making it difficult to retain. 🔹 Passive learning methods – Traditional lecture-based training lacks engagement, leading to lower retention. 🔹 No real-world application – If employees don’t apply what they learn, the brain doesn’t encode it as important.

The Impact of the Forgetting Curve on Training Programs

For trainers and L&D teams, the Forgetting Curve has serious implications:

🚨 Wasted Training Investment – Organizations spend millions on training programs, but if learners forget most of the content, ROI plummets. 🚨 Decreased Employee Performance – When employees can’t retain critical information, errors increase, and productivity suffers. 🚨 Compliance & Safety Risks – Forgetting key policies and procedures can lead to regulatory violations and safety hazards.

So, How Can Trainers Combat the Forgetting Curve?

To ensure long-term knowledge retention, trainers need to rethink how they deliver learning. The key lies in reinforcement, engagement, and personalization.

5 Proven Strategies to Overcome the Forgetting Curve

1. Implement Microlearning for Continuous Reinforcement

Microlearning—delivering short, focused learning modules—perfectly aligns with how the brain retains information. Instead of overwhelming employees with long training sessions, microlearning delivers content in small, digestible chunks over time.

✅ Why it works: Spaced, bite-sized learning strengthens memory recall and helps employees retain knowledge better. ✅ How to implement:

Use AI-powered microlearning platforms like MaxLearn to break down training into 2-5 minute lessons.

Deliver content in multiple formats, such as short videos, interactive quizzes, and infographics.

Ensure learners revisit key concepts at spaced intervals to reinforce knowledge.

2. Use Spaced Repetition to Strengthen Retention

Spaced repetition is a scientifically proven technique that involves reviewing learning material at increasing intervals over time. This resets the Forgetting Curve, reinforcing memory before it declines.

✅ Why it works: Helps the brain move information from short-term to long-term memory. ✅ How to implement:

Schedule follow-up quizzes at 1 day, 7 days, and 30 days after the initial training.

Use AI-driven adaptive learning to personalize review schedules based on individual performance.

Send automated knowledge reinforcement nudges via mobile apps or email.

3. Make Learning Interactive & Engaging

Active learning significantly improves retention compared to passive learning. Gamification, interactive content, and real-world scenarios keep learners engaged and improve recall.

✅ Why it works: Active participation improves focus, motivation, and knowledge application. ✅ How to implement:

Use gamified learning platforms with quizzes, badges, and leaderboards.

Create scenario-based simulations where employees practice real-world situations.

Encourage peer learning and collaboration through discussion forums or group challenges.

4. Leverage AI-Powered Adaptive Learning

AI-driven learning platforms can analyze learner behavior and deliver personalized reinforcement based on knowledge gaps.

✅ Why it works: AI ensures learners receive targeted support exactly when they need it. ✅ How to implement:

Use an AI-powered LMS like MaxLearn to track learner progress and adjust content dynamically.

Deliver automated quizzes that adapt in difficulty based on the learner’s performance.

Provide AI-driven content recommendations to strengthen weak areas.

5. Integrate Learning into the Flow of Work

Employees learn best when training is embedded into their daily workflow rather than being a separate event.

✅ Why it works: Learning in context ensures immediate application, reinforcing memory. ✅ How to implement:

Provide on-demand microlearning resources accessible via mobile devices.

Integrate learning reminders into collaboration tools like Slack or Microsoft Teams.

Offer real-time performance support tools, such as chatbots and digital job aids.

Case Study: Beating the Forgetting Curve with MaxLearn

Companies using MaxLearn’s AI-powered microlearning platform have reported higher knowledge retention and training effectiveness. By leveraging spaced repetition, adaptive learning, and gamification, organizations have:

✔ Increased retention rates by up to 80% ✔ Reduced training time by 50% while improving results ✔ Boosted employee engagement and performance

Conclusion: Training That Sticks

The Forgetting Curve presents a significant challenge for trainers, but with the right strategies, it can be overcome. By implementing microlearning, spaced repetition, AI-driven personalization, and in-the-flow learning, trainers can ensure that knowledge sticks—leading to better performance, higher ROI, and long-term success.

Ready to Defeat the Forgetting Curve?

Explore MaxLearn’s AI-powered microlearning platform and transform your training today! 🚀

[saiilorstars]

ch.25: Epilogue

Steve Rogers x OFC fic • squeeze your eyes for a Bucky Barnes x (2nd) OFC

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​​ ​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​​​​ @gloryekaterina​​ @lenonizi​ @averyhotchner​​ @foxesandmagic @kmc1989 @caplanbuckybarnes​​​​​​​​​​​​

Story Masterlist • Seren’s Masterlist• Chloe’s Masterlist​​

Also available on Fanfic ○ Ao3 ○ Wattpad

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

The sun had yet to rise when Bucky reached the city docks. The only sounds were the crashing waves. Even then, Bucky was cautious as he made his way to the designated dock. Even with the security of the scheduled time and the solitary location, Bucky couldn't let his guard down.

He waited and would wait until the sun rose. If it rose then it meant Chloe had gotten to her contact and the deal was off. He supposed it was selfish to still take this contact's help without Chloe but it was worth a try. Now he just had to hope that this person would be willing to help him once they realized he purposely left Chloe behind. The wait was agonizingly slow. The sun would almost start peeking and then he would have to—

Heeled boots made a noise a behind him.

Bucky turned immediately, hands raising enough to pose for retaliation.

Slowly, a woman with long, curly dark brown hair that seemed to struggle to stay on one side of her shoulders, appeared across Bucky. She was light skinned with dark brown eyes and she was dressed in casual clothing but one enough to allow for subtlety — she was easy to miss in a crowd.

Her lips curved into a small smile after her eyes did a quick scan of the place, and of Bucky. "I believe you are the friend of a friend?" She spoke with a slight Spanish accent.

Hispanic. Tall. Seemingly fit. Bucky was observing and drawing conclusions in case this went south and he had to fight her. He wasn't nervous about fighting her, only the attention that it would draw.

The woman didn't wait for his response. She seemed to expect his silence. "Where is Chloe?" She asked, eyes scanning the area again.

Bucky knew this was his moment. She would either agree to help him for the reasons he left Chloe behind or she would turn around and walk away. "She's...I had to leave her..." he said. The woman's eyebrows raised.

"You left Chloe?" the woman said, surprised, then studied him again. "For what reason?"

"Do you know who I am?"

She smiled again. "A man of your caliber is hard to forget, especially when the news and history in general have talked about you since forever. You have been a popular story, Sargeant Barnes."

Bucky tried not to flinch at the name — his name.

The woman noticed it. She straightened up and walked a few steps towards Bucky. "You know, I was not born in this country but I still went to school here and I learned all about your history. Chloe told me the truth...all of it."

Bucky blinked in surprise; Chloe had not told him that. They had agreed to keep his presence a complete secret until it was time to flee.

"Don't think of her a traitor," said the woman, as if she had read his thoughts. "Chloe and I have been friends for a very long time now. She knows that with my work, I need honesty and she knows that I would never divulge her secrets, no matter how complicated they are. You are a man who has lost a lot and you have no idea how much I can empathize with that. So if you left Chloe, and you are telling me this straight to my face, then I can only presume that you did it for a good reason. I know all about Chloe's situation, I've known for a long time, so your reason doesn't have to be explained to me."

"You trust me just like that?" Bucky eyed the woman who was holding herself with much more composure than Chloe, and even Seren Soul for that matter. This woman bore her own experiences that Bucky could just tell weren't all that great. It could have hardened her. He could empathize with that as well.

"I trust Chloe, and I trust everything that she told me." With that, the woman held a hand out to Bucky, expecting him to shake it. "My name is Citlalli Del Rio. I'm a CIA agent but first and foremost, I am someone who helps those in need, no matter their situation."

Bucky slowly extended his flesh hand to shake with Citlalli.

"It is good to meet you," she said, taking back her hand and bringing them both behind her back. "Now, I will work with you but I demand transparency. The network I work in demands that and truthfully I myself would prefer to know who I am putting into our community."

"Community? Network?" said Bucky, completely lost.

There was something about Citlalli's smile that gave Bucky a sense of unusual security. It was like what she was offering — transparency. No secrets.

"The network is very large and it extends beyond your belief, including to old fashioned underground railroads. It is how you will be escaping. The people you will meet after me are people who you can trust to get you to the next point. So, tell me, where is it you would like to go? And should Chloe ask, are there any words you want me to tell her?"

Bucky was dead silent, something Citlalli had no qualms about. In the end, he nodded.

A/N:

To be continued in...Therefore I am listed under my profile!. The story will feature the Ultron plot!

I like to add a few little facts as a 'behind the scenes' things every time I wrap up a fic so here's a few:

1. Truthfully, I had intended on keeping Seren & Steve broken up in the previous story and so then I would have kept in the small Sharon/Steve moments for jealousy bits lmao

2. And then, because obviously I live for the drama, I originally had Seren and Steve breaking up at the end of this fic because Steve would be focusing his entire time on finding Bucky...but I felt guilty and kept them together lmao. I love them, I really do.

3. Chloe was originally going to meet her mom (who Seren was going to bring back from Malibu) but I ultimately went against it thinking it would just overwhelm Chloe and lead to all chaos lmao. I switched it instead to the next fic where it's more fleshed out.

4. Seren's and Atria's relationship wasn't going to be that destroyed here but I thought that Seren deserved a moment to finally snap and just decide to take care of herself over maintaining familial relationships.

5. Seren wasn't going to spend so much time with her parents in the fic but writing out the first chapter where she went back home, I felt like that was her "healing period" which would genuinely last more than just a day or two.

6. This is the last fic with just Seren and Chloe as OCs, as the next fic I start to weave in some Black Panther seeds for my OC Citlalli (which yall just officially met;)). An extra fun fact, she's the oldest out of the three OCs!

[i-write-long-stuff]

The House of Snakes

A Game Of Thrones Fanfiction

Princess Elia.

Part 2

You woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. The sunlight streamed in through the window, bathing the room in a soft glow. You stretched and got out of bed, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. Today was the day you were scheduled to meet the princess. You had received a letter asking you to join Princess Elia in her private quarters that morning to meet her. You quickly got ready, choosing a simple yet elegant gown to wear. You took one last look in the mirror, smoothing down invisible wrinkles on your skirts before taking a deep breath.

It was time.

You left your bedroom and made your way through the castle hallways, your heart pounding in your chest. You passed by servants and courtiers, all of whom gave you a curious glance before continuing their tasks. It had been a week since you had met the strange boy in the garden and you hadn’t seen him since. You had tried to ask around about him, but so far it seemed nobody knew him.

You had hence decided to forget about him.

And focus on the most important…

You stopped in front of a pair of ornate doors, flanked by two guards. This was it. The Princess' chambers. You took a deep breath and knocked gently on the door. For a few moments, there was no sound. Then, the sound of footsteps and the turn of a key before the door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a gray gown. She smiled at you and gave a small bob of her head.

"Ah, you must be the new lady-in-waiting to be assigned to the Princess," she said, her voice soft and warm. "Please, come in."

You walked in, your eyes widening at the opulence of the room. The walls were lined with silk drapes and golden embroideries, while the floor was carpeted with thick Myrish rugs. In the center of the room was a couch, upon which a girl was sitting. She was wearing a beautiful violet gown, her black hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves.

She looked like a jewel. She glowed.

It didn’t take long for you to know who she was.

This was Elia. Princess of Dorne.

You immediately curtsied before her.

"It is an honour to meet you, Princess Elia."

Princess Elia smiled at you, her eyes held kindness and warmth within.

"Please, there's no need for such formalities," she said, gesturing for you to sit beside her on the couch. "You are to be my lady-in-waiting now, it is best we get comfortable with each other."

You hesitated before sitting down next to her on the couch, your heart still pounding in your chest. Elia was even more beautiful up close, her delicate features and dark eyes giving her an almost ethereal presence.

She eyed you intently, as if studying you.

"I have heard much about you," she said, a small smile curving her lips. "I am told you come from House Dayne."

You nodded in affirmation, feeling your cheeks grow warm under her intense gaze.

"Yes, Princess," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am Avy. Of House Dayne. The oldest daughter of Lord Edric."

Elia nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"House Dayne...of Starfall," she mused, her fingers idly fiddling with the fabric of her gown. "I have always liked that about your family. The whole house is marked with celestial bodies; your swords, your castle..."

She looked up at you, her gaze piercing.

"Even your eyes."

Your eyes widened at her unexpected comment.

"M-My eyes, Princess ?" You asked—dumbfounded.

Elia chuckled at your reaction, her eyes glinting with amusement. She shifted on the couch, angling herself towards you.

"Yes, your eyes," she repeated, her voice soft. "They say that the eyes are windows to the soul...and yours seem to have a certain...glow to them."

She leaned in a little closer, inspecting your face intently.

"As if they are made of starlight."

You smiled—warmth flooding in your heart at the Princess’ words.

"You flatter me, Princess Elia. They are nothing compared to your beauty and kindness. I look forward to serving you to the best of my ability." You replied and Elia beamed at your compliment, enjoying the praise.

"Oh, you are very sweet," she said, gently patting your hand to show her appreciation. "I can already tell we are going to get along just fine you and I."

You felt happy by the Princess’ words and she grinned at you. She then got up from the couch and moved over to a table near the window, gesturing for you to follow.

"Come, let me show you something."

You blinked twice in surprise at the unexpected request before wordlessly following Elia. She led you to a table where several scrolls and parchments were spread out. She picked up one of the scrolls and unrolled it carefully, laying it flat on the table.

It was a map of Westeros, each region labeled with its respective coat of arms and landmark.

Elia pointed at the furthest southern part of the continent, where Dorne was depicted.

"Here," she said, her voice low and soft. "This is our home."

You studied the map, your eyes flicking over the familiar landmarks and names. You began to list some of the prominent features and locations in Dorne: the towering Red Mountains, the fertile valleys, the scorching deserts...Elia listened intently, her eyes following your finger as you pointed at different places on the map.

After a while, she smiled and nodded approvingly.

"Very good," she said, rolling up the scroll once more. "You know our home well. That's a good sign. A lady-in-waiting who is well-versed in her home terrain is a valuable asset. The last lady-in-waiting my mother bestowed upon me didn’t know anything about our house and she was such a bore too. But I can tell that you are different."

She put the scroll down and turned to face you, her eyes searching your face.

"Tell me, Avy," she said, her voice dropping a little. "Have you ever been to King's Landing before ? To the Red Keep ?"

You frowned before shaking your head.

"No, Princess."

Elia hummed, her eyes wandering aimlessly around the room.

"Hmm...I thought so," she mused, a small smile graced her face. "You look quite young and inexperienced...like a little bird who has just left its nest."

You held back a chuckle. Princess Elia was…quite the character. She talked as if she was already experienced in the ways of the world, but she seemed almost the same age as you—if not younger. She quickly walked over to another table, where a tray holding cups and a pitcher of wine stood. She picked up the pitcher and a cup, pouring some of the dark liquid into it.

You watched, but then frowned in confusion as you realised she hadn’t told you why she was so curious about King’s Landing and the world beyond the sea…

"Forgive me, Princess. But I do not follow…Why are you talking about places like King’s Landing or Red Keep ? Are you going on a trip ?"

Elia set down the pitcher and turned back to you, offering you a small enigmatic smile. She handed you the cup of wine, which you accepted with a nod of thanks.

"No no," she answered quickly with a reassuring smile, but her voice sounding almost…worried. "There is no trip planned...at least, not yet."

Not yet ? You asked yourself before taking a sip of wine. Elia leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes for a moment as if lost in thought. For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of the wind rustling through the curtains.

Then, she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Avy ?"

You gulped.

"Y-Yes, Princess Elia ?"

Elia opened her eyes and fixed them on you, her gaze holding a hint of something almost like...fear.

"Can I tell you a secret ?"

Your eyes widened.

"I…Yes. Of course, Princess. I am at your service." You promptly answered. Elia smiled faintly at your confirmation before sighing and leaning closer to you.

"Good. What I am about to share with you must not leave this room," she said, her voice low and serious. "Can I trust you to keep my confidence ?"

You nodded frantically. You were brought to her to keep her company and be loyal to her, and you would keep that promise. Elia studied your face for a moment, as if trying to decipher the truthfulness of your words. Then, seemingly satisfied, she relaxed a bit.

"Very well then," she said, her voice regaining a hint of its usual strength. "However...what I am about to tell you must remain between us. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can know about this. Not even my brothers."

You nodded once more.

"I am your lady-in-waiting, Princess. My lips are sealed."

Elia chuckled quietly, her shoulders relaxing a little more at your declaration.

"You are truly a loyal one...a most admirable quality ," she commented, her dark eyes regarding you kindly. She then hesitated for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts, before speaking again. "Avy...do you know why you were chosen as my lady-in-waiting ?"

You frowned in confusion at the question.

"I…No, Princess. Why ?"

Elia took another sip of her wine, before setting the cup down on a nearby table.

"You were chosen because you are the eldest daughter of House Dayne," she said, her eyes never leaving your face. "You have a good name, a good house, and respectable lineage…all of which are qualities I would want in a lady-in-waiting."

She paused for a moment before continuing.

"But truthfully…there is also another reason..."

"Which is ?" You asked—your curiosity and confusion growing alike. Elia leaned even closer to you, her voice dropping to a whisper as she admitted.

"I…may be called upon to leave for King’s Landing shortly to marry the King." She took a deep breath and continued. "And I need someone I can trust, someone who could be my eyes and ears in this new life…someone who could keep me informed of any...unwanted whispers or threats."

Your eyes widened in surprise. King’s Landing…married...She was telling you that she might be asked to marry the king ?!

"You…" you faltered, your voice shaking a little. "You wish me to leave with you and act as your…spy…if you go to King’s Landing ?"

Elia’s eyes flickered with amusement at your reaction. She chuckled quietly.

"Well…spy is a rather harsh word," she said, a smirk on her lips. "But in essence…yes. I would need your help in keeping me informed of any happenings within the city. At court."

Your mind was swirling with a thousand thoughts and feelings. It was a lot to take in…but it was also an honour to be seen as someone worthy of trust and responsibility.

"I…" you started, your voice shaking slightly. You thought about your family, about your home you would probably never see again. You then thought about the honour and responsibility it would bring to be Princess’ Elia’s lady-in-waiting and spy…Finally, you took your decision and nodded. "I would be honoured…if you chose me for such a task, Princess Elia."

Elia smiled at your response, her eyes filled with relief and appreciation.

"You are truly a wonder," she said, gently patting your hand. "I am glad I chose you for this task. I trust you to look out for my best interests and the best interests of Dorne once we get there."

She leaned closer to you once more, her expression turning serious again.

"However, you will have to be discreet. As discreet and inconspicuous as a little bird."

You nodded, determination filling your heart.

"I promise, Princess," you said, your voice steady. "I will be discreet, I will be the perfect lady-in-waiting. Nobody will suspect me."

Elia smiled again, her eyes scanning your face with satisfied pride.

"Good…" she breathed, her shoulders dropping as if a weight had been lifted. "Good…I know I can count on you, Avy. You are a true daughter of Dorne."

You blushed a little at her words, your heart swelling with a strange mix of pride and nervousness.

"Thank you, Princess."

Elia chuckled again, the tension in her shoulders easing a little more. She finished her cup before sighing and walking back towards the couch, gesturing for you to sit next to her.

"I have to warn you. There are whispers," she said, once you were seated. "Rumors about King's Landing, the Red Keep...about what those places might be like. It is said they are places of horror and bloodshed."

Elia's words sent a shiver down your spine. You knew that King's Landing was anything but a peaceful place; rife with scheming nobles, ambitious knights and whispered rumours...

You looked at Elia nervously, waiting for her to continue. Elia noticed your hesitation and gently placed a soothing hand on your shoulder.

"But do not worry," she reassured you, her voice soft and comforting. "I merely want you to be prepared. Should the time come...if the rumors hold any truth...we might find ourselves in the capital soon. And I would feel better with a friend by my side."

You smiled back at her—but you were still nervous. You had never traveled outside of Dorne before…You were scared you wouldn’t be up to the task. Elia smiled at you, obviously noticing your unease.

"Now, now, do not worry yourself too much," she said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Right now, we remain in Dorne. And I have you beside me. For now, that is all that matters."

You nodded, taking a shaky sip from your cup to calm your nerves. Elia was right. There was no point in worrying about something that may not even happen.

However, a small voice at the back of your mind whispered to you...what if...?

A few days later:

You had officially become Princess Elia’s lady-in-waiting. She had asked of you random easy tasks that you had had no trouble tackling—preparing food, washing clothes, do her hair…So far, your relationship with the Princess seemed to be working and she had no yet complained about your services.

Everything had been uneventful and peaceful…until one day.

There was a knock at her door as you were finishing preparing Elia for the day. Elia looked up, a hint of annoyance crossing her face before it was quickly replaced by a courteous smile.

"Come in." She called out and Prince Oberyn came in with a big smile on his face.

"Good morning, sister."

Elia rolled her eyes affectionately at her brother.

"Oberyn," she greeted, a hint of fondness in her voice. "To what do I owe this unannounced visit ?"

You immediately curtsied at his arrival—without even looking up at his face. You knew that making eye contact from the start with the Prince could be considered rude and you had no intention to upset any member of the Martell family.

Oberyn glanced over at you, his eyes glinting with a mix of appreciation and amusement.

"Ah, the newest addition to your entourage," he said, his voice carrying a hint of mirth. "Quite the pretty little desert rose, isn’t she ?"

Your eyes widened…that nickname. You slowly looked up to meet two familiar pools of molten chocolate looking at you with clear amusement. You gasped as you recognised him.

"…The poet." You uttered in a whisper.

He was very real after all…

Oberyn chuckled at your reaction, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Ah, so you do remember our chance encounter," he said, a smirk plastered on his handsome face. "I am glad. I would have thought you would have all but forgotten about it after the way you fled last time we met."

Elia raised an eyebrow in surprise at your exchange.

"You two have met before ?"

Your cheeks burnt as you answered.

"Yes. Our path crossed once."

Elia looked from you to Oberyn, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

"I see…" she acknowledged, a knowing smirk curving her lips. "And where exactly did this lucky encounter take place ?"

"In the Water gardens…" you muttered reluctantly, your heart racing as you remembered that night. Oberyn chuckled, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Yes, in the gardens," he confirmed, his tone smug. "We engaged in a delightful conversation in the alcove where I usually spend my time writing. Then a little bird decided to fly into my hiding place and read one of my poems…"

Elia quirked an eyebrow at your face and the mischievous twinkle in Oberyn’s eyes.

"Oh, really ?" she asked, a note of curiosity coloring her voice. "And what was this poem about ?"

"It was a poem about a flame tree." You replied.

Oberyn smiled at your words, that same proud look in his eyes that he had last time.

"Ah yes," he recalled, his tone laced with arrogance. "One of my best, I think."

Elia rolled her eyes, though her gaze held an amused glint.

"Oh please, Oberyn," she teased. "You say that about all of your works. Spare us the boasting, will you ?"

Oberyn feigned offence at Elia’s remark, mock-clutching his chest as if wounded.

"Ah, how you wound me, sweet sister," he exclaimed, a dramatic hand to his heart. "To dismiss my work as mere boasting. I thought you appreciated my poetry…"

Elia rolled her eyes again, clearly used to her brother's theatrics.

"I never said I didn't appreciate your work," she shot back. "I just said you have the bad habit of blowing your own horn a little too loudly."

Oberyn shrugged carelessly, a smirk still playing on his lips.

"Ah, but what's the fun in being humble ?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He looked at you again, his gaze assessing before he inquired. "And what did you think of my poem, lovely desert rose ?”

Your face was flushed like a flame tree as you admitted.

"It was very impressive, my Prince. I wish I had your way with words…"

Oberyn chuckled at the sight of your blushing cheeks, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Oh, do you now ?" he teased, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. "Well, I suppose I could give you a few tips if you feel so inclined…"

Elia cleared her throat loudly, drawing both of your attention.

"Enough with the flirtations, Oberyn," she chastised him playfully but you then perked up and your mouth worked before her brain.

"I would love lessons."

Elia raised an eyebrow in surprise at your eagerness, while Oberyn’s smirk widened.

"Oh, you would, would you ?" he asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "You would be willing to take lessons from me, little bird ?"

You nodded.

"Your poem made me…happy. I would love to learn how to create emotions through my words the same way you do, my Prince."

Oberyn’s smirk had grown into a genuine smile by this point. He was impressed by your earnestness, and also a little surprised.

"Impressive," he murmured, still looking at you. "Most young women I have encountered would be more interested in learning some…other things from me. You are the first one to be so eager to learn poetry."

You frowned.

"Other things, my Prince ?"

Oberyn chuckled, his eyes glinting with suggestive mischief.

"Oh, you know…" he purred, his voice low and smooth. "The usual things princes offer young ladies: gifts of jewels, pretty dresses, rides on horseback…"

Elia rolled her eyes again, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "And wine, no doubt."

"And wine, of course," Oberyn confirmed, grinning unabashedly. He leaned a little closer to you, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But you, my little desert rose…you seem to have an interest in something a little more…intellectual. And for that, I must admit, a part of me admires you."

You tilted your head.

"Learning from you would be a great honour, Prince Oberyn."

Oberyn’s smirk softened a little at your words, a hint of genuine appreciation in his eyes.

"Such sweet words…" he murmured, studying your face carefully. "It’s refreshing, really. Most women at court would fawn over me with empty promises and hollow flatteries…but you, little Avy, are different."

You smiled before nodding.

"Thank you, my Prince."

Oberyn returned your smile with a smirk of his own. "You are most welcome…"

Elia cleared her throat again, breaking the moment.

"If you two are done flirting…"

You looked back at Princess Elia with an apologetic smile.

"Of course, Princess. My apologies. Your brother has a gift with words and I simply wished to learn. That is all. But I am at your service. Tell me what you would have me do and I shall obey."

Elia chuckled softly at your words, a hint of amusement in her gaze. "Oh, I know Oberyn has a gift with words…he could charm the bark off a dragon if he wanted to."

Oberyn chuckled at her comment, giving his sister a wink. Elia smiled and looked back at you, her expression turning serious.

"As for what I would have you do…I actually have a small errand for you."

You nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Princess."

Elia gestured for you to come closer, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "I need you to go to the city and purchase some herbs for me…"

Oberyn perked up at the mention of the city. "Herbs ?" he inquired, an eyebrow raised. "What kind of herbs, pray tell ?"

Elia shot her brother a quick glare, clearly not wanting to give away too much. But she relented when she saw the curiosity on his face.

"Herbs for…feminine troubles, Oberyn," she said, her voice taking on a sharp edge. The glare she sent her brother’s way made him raise his hands in mock surrender.

Oberyn raised his hands in a mock-surrender gesture. "Alright. Alright. No need to bite my head off, dear sister," he chuckled. "I didn’t say anything."

He then looked over at you, a sly grin on his face. "And you are sending pretty little Avy all on her own to pick these up for you ?"

"Yes, I am," Elia nodded, a hint of warning in her eyes. "I trust her to handle the errand discreetly."

Oberyn leaned back against the door, a smirk on his face.

"Discreetly, is that right ?" he mused and took a seat. "Such a shame…I would love to accompany her to the city..."

"Absolutely not," Elia said firmly, cutting off any protest from her brother. "You are not to accompany her."

Oberyn pouted playfully, but there was a glint of disappointment in his eyes.

"Why ? Can’t I even accompany her to assure her safe journey ?"

Elia fixed him with a stern look. "No, you cannot “accompany” her. I need this errand run discreetly, and with minimal incident. I don’t need you causing chaos in the city and drawing unnecessary attention to my business."

Oberyn sighed in mock-defeat. "Oh, fine," he said, throwing his hands up in surrender once more. "I won’t tag along. But I will be very bored."

Elia rolled her eyes again. "You will survive," she said dryly. "Now, if you will excuse us…I need to give Alexandra the details of her errand."

Oberyn stood up from his seat, a hint of disappointment in his gaze. "Very well, I will take my leave then."

He turned to you, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment. "Until next time, Lady Avy."

You looked back at him and smiled before curtsying.

"Until next time, Prince Oberyn. I look forward to learning from you."

Oberyn smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "And I look forward to teaching you," he murmured. He gave you one last nod before exiting the room, leaving you alone with Elia. You watched him leave and smiled.

You were truly looking forward to those lessons…

Elia watched her brother leave, a sigh of relief escaping her lips when he was gone and the door locked.

"And good riddance to him," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I do love him, I really do…but he can be such a handful sometimes."

She turned her gaze back to you, her expression turning serious again.

"Now then, about your errand…" she said, her voice taking on a business-like tone. "You will need to go to the city market and purchase a few items for me."

Elia reached over to her desk and rummaged through a small bag, pulling out a list and handing it to you.

"Here is the list of items I need," she said. "Make sure to be discreet, and don’t draw any unwanted attention to yourself. Understood ?"

You nodded, taking the list from her and glancing down at it. It seemed like a relatively simple errand—purchase a few herbs from the city market and return them to Elia. You looked back up at her, a determined expression on your face.

"Yes, Princess. I understand," you replied understandingly.

"Good," she said. "I knew I could count on you, Avy. Remember, discretion is key. And don't be gone too long, either. I need these herbs as soon as possible."

She reached into her desk again and retrieved a small pouch, presumably filled with coins. She handed it to you.

"Here's some coins to cover the expenses," she said. "It should be more than enough. Do try not to lose them, please."

You took the pouch from her, feeling the weight of the coins in your hand. You nodded in response, tucking the pouch into the pocket of your dress.

"I won't lose them, Princess. And I will return as quickly as possible," you assured her.

Elia smiled again, clearly satisfied with your confidence.

"Excellent. Then you may go. And remember, discretion is key," she said, her tone firm. "Be careful, and don't let anyone see you that shouldn't."

You nodded again, feeling a little flutter of nervous anticipation. This was your first solo errand for Elia, and you were determined not to disappoint her.

"I won't let you down, Princess," you promised, your voice steady. Elia smiled warmly at you, a hint of pride in her eyes.

"I know you won't," she said. "Now, be off with you. The sooner you go, the sooner you can return and complete your errand."

You nodded again, tucking the list of herbs into your pocket.

"Thank you, Princess. I shall return soon," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

With one final nod, you turned and left the room, the list of herbs and the weight of the pouch feeling heavier than ever as you made your way to the city market.

[okeanosornamentalgraphics]

Splatter Strokes

“Mind explaining to me as to why I had to accompany you for picking out art supplies for Mr.  Canson’s class? You’re the one who starts his class tomorrow, not me.”

Aki pouted and fidgeted in his spot, clutching the small collection of drawing pencils of various  shapes, sizes, and colors in one hand and a slip of paper in the other. He made yet another  nasally grunt, indicating his annoyance to the whole affair. Who still used paper to write a list,  anyway? And what was the point of having all these different pencils if they all served the same  purpose? 

His elder sister resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her sibling’s inquiry, carefully studying the  tiny text etched into the pencil’s side. Her eyes picked up a gold plated, “2B” and it joined the  small collection in her other hand. 

“Did you forget that you start his class tomorrow too?” she retorted with a swift glance at her  brother. “You even start his class before me, so why are you complaining? You’ve got to pick  out supplies too!” 

Aki took a moment to think. He then scoffed with crossed arms, an instinctive gesture to Suna  being right once again and his distaste to admit it. Then again, if his memory banks served him  right when he permitted, Mr. Canson’s art class was indeed placed in his schedule. Sixth period  for him, seventh period for Suna. He envied her, having a class as lax and easy-going as art  being the closing class for the school day. He could only imagine how rewarding Fridays were  with that kind of schedule. 

He attempted to retaliate. “Well, that still doesn’t explain why you had to drag me along! You wanted to nab your supplies all the way here on the far side of town instead of waiting to see if�� we really need everything on that list!” 

His attention dived down onto the elegantly written letters on the page and then came back up  in an instant. “Like this, ‘kneaded eraser’ thingie. We’ve already got a bunch of regular erasers at home, so we’re good, right?” 

“And why can’t we just share supplies?” 

Suna was off in her own little world, subconsciously listening to her brother rant and rave about  his expressive dislike of school supply shopping (or any shopping in general that didn’t align  with his interests) while simultaneously inspecting the sides of all the pencils she touched. It  annoyed her greatly when he went on and on about something important that needed to be  taken care of, but at the same time she did agree with one thing her brother was snarling about.  This was last-minute. Very last-minute. She couldn’t say she was too surprised however, considering how chaotic the administration’s organization and planning had been recently. She  was almost assigned Trigonometry when she should have been given Calculus! 

“You can just buy everything we need on that list for class tomorrow and hand them to me,”  Suna’s hearing picked up her brother’s monologue. “When my class is over and it’s your turn,  you can just meet me by the classroom door and I’ll give the supplies to you. See, it all works  out.” A trademark smirk curved its way through Aki’s lips, the same smirk he donned when he  thought of an impromptu solution for whatever problem his sister threw at him.  

Suna pursed her lips, motioning for him to hand over the wrinkled list and slightly grimacing at  the immortal creases on the formerly pristine surface. A crisp line slashed through the last  remaining graphite-based item on the list, prompting a content nod of eggplant hair. 

“Well,” her tongue clicked. “Think you can manage rushing from Mr. Canson’s studio on the  west side of the school on the third floor, to Mrs. Waterhouse’s class on the opposite end of the  school on the first floor? All within a five-minute window?”  

Now it was Suna’s turn to sneer. The infamous, “I know more than you do, so stop resisting and  just admit that I am right,” kind of sneer that overruled Aki’s trademark, “I can make this whole  thing work out, trust me,” sneer.  

Once again, Suna was right. The leisure time in between each period was brutal. You had  enough time for one locker visit to frantically grab what you needed, have a short bathroom  break, and be lucky enough to engage in small talk with one of your friends without being at  least a couple minutes late. Rushing between classes and making triple sure he had all his  materials was taxing on its own. There’s no way he’d be cool doing all the extra running around  every day, especially after lunch. Throwing up his hands in defeat and letting out an audible  sigh, he surrendered for good. 

“Dad gave us each the right amount of money to cover everything. Like you mentioned earlier we may not need everything, but I’m gonna play it safe so we don’t get any more surprises,”  Suna included as she reached for a nearby basket to dump her belongings inside. A brief  moment of silence passed as her olive irises scanned the list before she passed it to her  reluctant brother. 

“Here, I’ve already remembered the rest of the items, so you can have it if you’d like. Because  this is so last-minute and this store is far from home, I’m taking the liberty of grabbing everything  while I’m here. Whether or not you’d like to wait until tomorrow when they go over the list and  make a second trip all the way back here after school is your call.” 

Aki took back the list in slight awe. “No wonder you’re so much better at tests than I am, you’ve  got photographic memory.” 

Her heels pivoted across the newly polished floor with a satisfied smile. “I’m going to get the rest  of my supplies, shouldn’t take me long. Mini, I trust that you’ll keep my baby brother out of  trouble?”

Aki swatted his sister’s hand away in embarrassment as she ruffled the thick chocolate locks of  spiked synthetic hair. 

“Hey! I do a great job at keeping the city out of trouble, I don’t need a babysitter!” 

The tiny sentient robot that resided in Aki’s head crossed his legs and let out a small chuckle of  amusement. Serving as Aki’s onboard repair unit and an external conscious drive with  independent thought, Mega Mini became Aki’s first line of almost indiscriminate support who  flaunted a rather rude and sarcastic sense of humor. What fun was having a best bud if you  couldn’t tease them every once in a while? 

“Don’t worry ya pretty lil’ head off, M’Lady. I’ll make sure ya itty bitty baby brother doesn’t hurt  himself in this big, scary store,” Mini replied, puckering his lips and shifting the tone in his gruff  voice.  

His remark rewarded him with a fading laugh from Suna and an annoyed grunt from Aki. “Hey, whose side are you on? You’re in my head, so you’re supposed to always agree with me!” 

“Oh please. If I wasn’t programmed with a personality and had t’ do everything you say without  question, we’d both be screwed,” Mini’s pixel eyes averted. 

Aki scoffed. It wasn’t like all his ideas were bad or backfired at the worst of times. Mini made it  sound like he wasn’t capable of doing anything on his own. The nerve! 

“Are you saying that I can’t function without you? I’ll have you know that I was created before you were, Mini.” He took a finger to jab at his own temple. “I can take care of myself, thank you  for asking.” 

The tiny robot rolled his eyes as he chuckled. “Ya sure about that, Chief? Didja forget about that  fight with Blasto Woman? How she knocked me clean out ya skull? Ya lucky I was able to save  yer blue behind from hard crashin’.” 

Aki swat both his arms dismissively, the crumpled paper in his grasp fluttering violently. “Aww,  whatever. Have it your way, then. I guess I should get going and find all these stupid supplies  before Suna finishes up. I’d never hear the end of it from her.” 

His chocolate optics veered back down at the abused paper and scanned the remaining  uncrossed lines. Brushes, one pack of brushes. 

“One pack of brushes,” Aki read. “That shouldn’t be so hard.” 

Mini continued to tease. “Hmm, ya sure ‘bout that, Chief? Didja see all them different pencils ya  picked out? Are ya gonna be able to tell which one is which?”

“Oh shut it, you mini migraine,” the robo-boy grumbled. “They’re brushes! And they’re already in  a pack, so it can’t be too hard, right?”

*On AO3 for a more spacious reading experience

[ameliasoulturner]

How to Use the 2–7–30 Trick to Lock in 90 Percent of Everything You Learn

Ever finish a book or binge a webinar and feel on top of the world—only to forget most of it days later? You’re not alone. Most of us struggle to retain new information. But what if you could remember 90% of what you learn, using just a simple schedule?

Enter the 2–7–30 trick. It’s a brain-friendly memory hack based on science and psychology—and once you try it, you’ll wonder how you ever studied without it.

What Is the 2–7–30 Trick?

The 2–7–30 method is a spaced repetition strategy designed to help you retain new information long-term. You revisit what you’ve learned at three key times:

Day 2

Day 7

Day 30

These three checkpoints align with the brain’s natural forgetting cycle. Every time you review, you're refreshing the neural pathways tied to that information, making it easier to recall in the future.

Think of it like applying a coat of memory paint—each layer seals the knowledge deeper.

The Science Behind Why It Works

This trick isn’t just trendy—it’s backed by over a century of research.

In the late 1800s, psychologist Hermann Ebbinghaus discovered the Forgetting Curve, which shows how fast our brains drop newly learned information. According to Ebbinghaus:

You forget nearly 50% of what you learn within 24 hours

You forget around 80% by the end of the week

Unless you actively review it, your brain simply decides it’s not important enough to keep.

The 2–7–30 method flips that script. By spacing out reviews before the brain “lets go,” you’re teaching it: Hey, this matters—keep it!

How to Actually Use It (With Real-Life Examples)

Let’s break this down with a simple scenario.

Say you start a course on graphic design on Monday:

Day 2 (Wednesday): Spend 10 minutes reviewing key concepts. Maybe rewatch a quick clip, skim your notes, or quiz yourself on 3 main ideas.

Day 7 (Next Monday): Take 15-20 minutes to go deeper. Try explaining concepts aloud, teaching someone else, or applying what you learned in a small project.

Day 30 (Next Month's Wednesday): Time for a recap! Revisit your notes or try something hands-on like recreating a design using the same techniques.

Each review session doesn’t have to be long. The magic is in timing and engagement, not duration.

Why Those Specific Days?

The 2–7–30 timeline isn’t random. It’s perfectly timed to hit just before your brain lets information go:

Day 2: You’re already forgetting fast—this first review stops the slide.

Day 7: You’ve lost even more—this review locks it in deeper.

Day 30: Your brain is either going to toss it or save it forever. This review makes the decision easy.

These spaced intervals mimic how memory naturally consolidates. You’re not fighting your brain—you’re working with it.

Make It Stick: Tips for Each Review

Here’s how to maximize each review day:

Day 2 — Quick & Light

Skim your notes or summary

Quiz yourself briefly

Write a 1-minute “explain it like I’m five” summary

Talk it out aloud (seriously—even to your pet!)

Day 7 — Go Deeper

Make a mind map

Apply what you learned to a small project

Connect it to real-life examples

Teach it to someone else

Day 30 — Cement It

Reflect on how you’ve used this info

Create a recap from memory, then check your gaps

Add extra context or layers (ex: “What’s changed since I learned this?”)

Bonus Tools to Automate the Process

Don’t want to remember when to review? Let tech help:

Anki: A spaced repetition flashcard app that follows science-backed intervals.

Quizlet: Easy flashcard creation and shared decks.

Google Calendar: Set recurring reminders at Day 2, 7, and 30.

Notion/Obsidian: Build your own knowledge base with review dates built in.

You can even print a cheat sheet or use a paper planner to manually track your 2–7–30 reviews if you’re more of an analog learner.

Want to Supercharge It? Use Active Recall

Spaced repetition is powerful. But pair it with active recall, and you’ve got a learning superpower.

Here’s what active recall looks like:

Write down everything you remember before checking notes

Use flashcards with open-ended questions

Practice the Feynman Technique: explain concepts in plain English, spot where you struggle, and refine

This pushes your brain to retrieve, not just recognize—which builds stronger memory pathways.

Customize Based on What You’re Learning

The 2–7–30 rule is flexible.

If you’re learning:

Simple facts: The 3-point review is plenty.

Complex skills: Add an extra review on Day 14 or Day 21.

Fast-paced content: Like daily lectures or high-volume reading? Stack multiple 2–7–30 sequences across topics.

Learning isn’t one-size-fits-all. Use this as a framework, then adapt as needed.

Combine with Interleaving for Even More Power

If you really want to level up, mix in interleaving—the practice of switching between related topics instead of studying one thing straight through.

Example: Studying finance? Instead of doing one day of stocks, one day of budgeting, one day of crypto—mix all three in one session.

Why? Your brain gets better at distinguishing concepts, and it trains you to apply knowledge in flexible, real-world ways.

Track Your Progress (So You Know It’s Working)

Here’s a simple way to track:

What you learned

Review date

Self-rating: 1 to 5 stars on how well you recalled it

Over time, you’ll see patterns. You’ll know which subjects stick fast—and which need extra love.

The Results? More Retention, Less Relearning

Stick with the 2–7–30 method, and you’ll:

Retain more knowledge with less effort

Learn faster because you’re not relearning the same things

Feel more confident applying what you know—in meetings, on tests, or in projects

The best part? It doesn’t take hours. Just a few focused minutes, a few days after learning, and boom—you’ve locked it in.

Final Thoughts: Make Forgetting a Thing of the Past

Let’s be real: life is busy. You don’t always have time to re-read whole books or re-watch hours of content.

That’s why the 2–7–30 trick is so powerful. It’s simple. It’s doable. And it fits into real life.

So next time you learn something new—whether it's from a podcast, a course, or a random deep dive into AI or finance—schedule your 2–7–30 reviews. Set a reminder. Build the habit.

Because the smartest people aren’t the ones who know the most. They’re the ones who remember what matters—and use it when it counts.

Ready to try it out? Start small. Pick one thing you learned today and map out your 2–7–30. You’ve got nothing to lose… and nearly 90% more knowledge to gain.