#untitled 07

[blueengland]

GHOSTS OF A TIME LONG PAST

TRAPPED #5 - SCOAM TRAPPED #6 - PARANORMALISTS TRAPPED #7 - YELLOGREEN TRAPPED #8 - TRASH COMEDY

[vinstinx]

you make me wanna just ~AAAAH 👹👹

[midniqhtt]

jamie tartt

masterlist • ted lasso masterlist • 07/07/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 change in perspective I @justauthoring

you never thought jamie tartt could be anything but a prick.

𑣲 saved you a seat I @benedictscanvas

𑣲 gentlemen I @danistartt

secret dating because reader works for Richmond (as like pr or physio or something) but when they win a match one day Jamie is so overcome with joy he just has to kiss her

𑣲 bus ride I @axelsagewrites

𑣲 decide I @/axelsagewrites

they both like you and when they came to settle it once and for all neither of them expected this out come.

𑣲 practise mishap I @/axelsagewrites

𑣲 i’d be better armed if you agreed to take it I @pandorasprongs

higgins' new assistant happens to be an old friend of the reader's, and their reunion hits jamie with major feelings of jealousy. when the team thinks that the pair of them are going on a date soon, jamie decides enough is enough.

𑣲 comfort crowd, you can always count I @/pansorasprongs

reader gets cheated on and jamie, whose trying to be a better friend and person, decides to help her out by hiding her phone for the day.

𑣲 i can see you I @rqgnarok

you and jamie have been watching each other for ages, trying not to feel the pull between you. a moment in the hallway changes everything.

𑣲 delicate I @/rqgnarok

jamie hadn’t planned on dating. his reputation’s never been worse. but then he met you.

𑣲 music to my eyes I @/rqgnarok

jamie has a crush on the band’s bassist.

𑣲 untitled I @/rqgnarok

𑣲 three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life I @its-time-to-write

𑣲 coffee at midnight I @/its-time-to-write

𑣲 birds of a feather I @/its-time-to-write

𑣲 about you I @buckychristwrites

Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you’re publicly feuding with.

𑣲 could this be I @/buckychristwrites

One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about…

𑣲 i can see you I @hopefulromances

Roy's sister comes back to town

𑣲 fuck I @wlntrsldler

𑣲 spring rolls and stocks I @veryberryjelly

𑣲 distractions I @illiterateaffairs

𑣲 you’re obsessed I @mllersjoel

he has a huge crush on an actress and sees her at a richmond event and she flirts w him he’s really shy bc he likes her

𑣲 tour de richmond I @ofstarsandvibranium

Jamie gives you a tour of Richmond as well as gets to know you better. When you tell your cousin of his teammates generosity, he suddenly becomes a big hostile towards Jamie.

𑣲 operation: tartts heart I @theowritesstuff

Jamie’s too scared to confess his (obvious) feelings for you, so when Richmond gets another clubhouse attendant who starts flirting with you, the team suddenly all become your guard dogs.

𑣲 other people I @/theowritesstuff

You and Jamie have a discussion about the exclusivity of your relationship

𑣲 in the stands I @cauliflowercounty

𑣲 this is me trying I @alloftheimagines

Reader who was crushing on Jamie overhears him insulting them or making fun of them

𑣲 if somebody hurts you, i wanna fight I @/alloftheimagines

[seulgisqt]

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐓 — aitana bonmatí

aitana bonmatí x ex!psg!reader

(a/n: would like to begin this by saying you’re only a psg player for plot purposes don’t worry darlings x. also I don't know what this concept it, I had fun writing it, and hopefully I do it some justice)

word count: 2210

genre: angst (but soft?)

summary: in the aftermath of a breakup, you and aitana only speak through unsent voice memos, until a single message breaks the silence.

Aitana — Voice Memo (Not Sent)

October 17, 20:14 — Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper, Parking Lot

“Hola. I don’t know why I’m recording this, I’ve recorded this like four times.”

“You’ll never hear it. But, I just left training and the weather reminded me of that January match in Bilbao–remember?”

“You were freezing and you wouldn’t stop complaining about your ears. I gave you my scarf and you refused, said it smelled like effort.” Aitana let out a soft laugh.

“You always said stupid things like that. I think I miss your stupid things more than I should.”

Silence

“I saw your goal against Lyon. Top bins. You still shoot like you have something to prove.”

You — Paris, Apartment Kitchen

October 18, 07:03

The kettle whistles. You don’t move until the noise reaches that sharp, shrill pitch, staring at the steam curling up from your mug like it might spell something out. You’re exhausted and your bones feel it first.

You scroll through your camera roll while you water for the water to cool.

You probably shouldn’t–but you do.

Barcelona. Ciutat Esportiva. Rooftops

Aitana, asleep with a book over her chest on a hotel bed.

Aitana in your hoodie, biting into a peach, capturing her moody face as she hated the new highlights in her hair.

So you tap the record button.

You — Voice Memo (Not Sent)

October 18, 07:11

“I had a dream about you last night. I woke up before I could remember how it ended, but…we were at the MNAC. Just sitting on the stairs. You had your foot over mine like you always did when you wanted to be close without admitting it.”

You wait for a beat, debating whether you should continue or not.

“I know it’s silly.”

“I still look for your name in every Barça lineup. I tell myself I just want to see how the midfield is doing but–Aitana, I lie to myself more than I lied to you. And I know I did that enough.”

Letting out a sigh, you paused for a couple of seconds.

“I don’t deserve to send this. But I wish I could.”

Aitana — Her Bedroom

October 18, 23:52

As the night settles over Barcelona, a peculiar stillness envelops the city. The warm, orange glow of the streetlamps filters through the thin fabric of Aitana's curtains, casting flickering shadows across her room. The only interruptions to the tranquillity come from the distant hum of a moped zipping along the cobblestone streets below. It was quiet, unlike her.

Aitana finds herself sprawled on her back, her headphones comfortably resting over her ears, as she gazes up at the plaster ceiling. She’s listened to the same Bon Iver track four times in a row.

She finds herself opening the Voice Memos app and tapping the folder Untitled

She presses record.

Aitana — Voice Memo (Not Sent)

October 18, 23:53

“Why did we stop talking?”

 She inhaled sharply.

“I know why. I know you had to go. PSG offered you more. More minutes, more money. I just–”

The microphone picked up the faint shuffle of sheets as Aitana rolled onto her front, propping herself up on her elbows.

“I thought you’d fight harder to stay. Or at least…say goodbye properly. You left me at the airport with a half-hug and a press photo. You wore the Paris kit like you hadn’t already broken something.”

“I’ve been angry. God, I’ve been angry for months now.” she huffed in disbelief. “And I’ve been pretending not to be. But sometimes I still look up how many minutes you played. I still see your face in my head when we walk out of the tunnel.”

Zaragoza, June 2024 — Last Matchday

“You’re really leaving?” Aitana’s words echoed through the dimly lit locker room, carrying a weight that lingered in the air—more assertion than inquiry.

Her voice trembled slightly, an emotional crack revealing the turmoil beneath. The faint sound of running showers persisted in the background, a reminder of the teammates who still lingered in the hallways. You turned to face Aitana, your travel bag clutched tightly in your hand, its zipper glinting in the fluorescent glow.

“I have to,” you replied, like that meant anything.

“You don’t have to,” Aitana insisted, taking a tentative step closer, her gaze intense and pleading. But then she hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. “You want to.”

“It’s not about wanting to leave. I want to win, and I want–” You paused, searching for the right words.

“You’ve won here!” Aitana interjected, her eyebrows knitting together in frustration as your back remained turned to her.

“I barely played this season, Aita.” The note of desperation in your voice was unmistakable. “I want to play. I want to have a life beyond this.”

“You had one here,” she countered, a hint of disbelief lacing her tone.

You shook your head, the weight of your decision pressing down. “No. I had you here. And maybe that’s why I can’t stay.”

Aitana — Ciutat Esportiva, After Training

October 20, 17:58

She finds herself staring at pitch three. You had twisted your ankle there once during rondos. Aitana had piggybacked you to the locker room because you refused a stretcher.

You hated looking weak in front of the others. But not in front of Aitana. Never in front of her.

Today the pitch is quiet.

Aitana takes out her phone.

Aitana — Voice Memo (Not Sent)

October 20, 18:03 — Pitch Three

“You once told me you loved me more when I was angry.” A small smile appeared on her face at the memory

“Because it meant I still cared. If that’s true, you must’ve known how much I loved you when I screamed at you that night.”

The heat in Aitana’s cheeks rose as the wind brush passed.

“I would’ve waited. If you’d asked. If you’d said something–anything–other than, ‘Don’t make this harder.’ You made it impossible.”

She stood still, her eyes focusing on the pitch.

“Sometimes I hate you for walking away.” the brunette started matter-of-factly. “But most of the time I hate myself for not running after you.”

You — Parc des Princes, Pre-match

October 21, 16:52

You hummed under your breath, a song you couldn’t really pinpoint but it had been spinning in your head for days now. One ear is listening to the chatter of your teammates behind you, the other listens to the crowd, the announcer, and the buildup.

You’re starting tonight. No nerves. Just your heartbeat and the echo of a voice that hasn’t spoken to you in fifteen months but lives in your skull anyway. 

Aitana used to say, “You light up under pressure.” What you never told her was that most of the pressure had come from knowing that she was watching.

As the final whistle blew, marking a 2-0 win, you and your teammates lingered on the pitch, relishing the moment as you strolled around to connect with the sea of fans. Your eyes swept over the crowd in a whirlwind of colour and exuberance, a swirling sea of jerseys and flags. In a moment of wishful thinking, you found yourself searching desperately for those brown eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse among the throngs of chanting supporters, hoping that somewhere in the chaos, her presence might still be felt.

You — Voice Memo (Not Sent)

October 21, 20:27 — Locker Room

“I wish you could’ve seen that pass. The one to Katoto. It looked like something you would’ve done. Maybe that’s why I risked it.” You chuckled softly.

“Everyone keeps asking if I’m happy in Paris. And I am. It’s a beautiful city. I get to play.”

“But sometimes I wake up and for five seconds I think I’m still in Barcelona. I think I’ll see your toothbrush next to mine. I think you’ll be there with your silent mornings and your coffee that’s always too bitter.”

“Sometimes I think I should just move on, Aitana, sometimes I just want to go back. But we’re both too proud to break this silence, aren’t we?”

Aitana — Bus Ride to an Away Match

October 25, 11:37

The sky outside is a muted blue, the kind that reminds her of winter mornings in Paris. She hasn’t been since you broke up back in Barcelona. She’s declined two sponsorship shoots in France, citing scheduling conflicts. The truth was, she didn’t trust herself. 

She scrolls through Spotify, finding the playlist you made for her last spring. It still has her name in the title. “Ai <3”

Aitana — Voice Memo (Not Sent)

October 25, 11:39

“You were the first person who really saw me. Not Aitana the footballer. Not the midfield engine. Just…Aitana. And you knew exactly how to love me when I didn’t know how to be loved.”

“I don’t think I’ve let anyone close since. Everyone feels like a draft I keep rewriting.” She watched the Spanish countryside run past her. 

“If I sent this, what would you do? Would you answer? Would you come back?”

You — Voice Memo (Not Sent)

October 27, 01:27 — Paris

“Mum called, she knows, but she still asks about you–I just say you’re fine.” You looked out the Paris skyline, your fingernail dragging against the window as you traced the Eiffel Tower, twinkling in the night.

“You don’t call, so I tell myself it’s over. I remind myself that you’re probably in someone else’s arms by now. But then I see your face in post-match interviews, and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. And I wonder…”

You let out a shaky exhale.

“I wonder if you’re just as lost as me.”

Aitana — Voice Memo (Not Sent)

October 27, 01:32 — Hotel Room

“I love you. Still. More quietly now. More painfully. But I love you.”

You — Voice Memo (Not Sent, Incomplete)

October 27, 05:59 — Apartment Balcony

“I never stopped.”

The sky over Barcelona is draped in a heavy blanket of grey clouds, casting a muted light that filters through Aitana’s window in delicate beams, fragmented like memory, never full, always splintered. The room is still, a silence enveloping her as she lies in bed. 

Aitana is already awake, lost in her thoughts, when her phone vibrates softly on the nightstand, cutting through the quiet. 

One new message 

From You

In that fleeting moment, her heart doesn’t race; it halts entirely. The air in her room thickens, and even the bustling city outside seems to pause, holding its breath in unison with her. Aitana's gaze locks onto the screen, almost as if it might dissolve into nothingness. Like if she blinks too hard, she’ll lose it again. But the notification holds steady.

Just below the name, a notification beckons:

Audio Message — 3:02

She feels a tension in the air and hesitates, the seconds stretching into eternity. One second. Then two. The weight of the moment presses on her, but finally, she gathers her courage and presses play.

You — Voice Memo (Recorded at 08:32, Sent at 10:52)

“I almost sent this a hundred times. I always deleted it. I kept thinking–maybe it’s too late. Maybe you don't want to hear from me. Maybe you’ve moved on. But then I saw your story. That stupid coffee photo with lyrics like always. And I saw the caption. I saw it.”

“Encara penso en tu.”

“I don't know if I have the right to answer that, Aitana. But if there’s even a chance…if you still mean it, then I need you to hear me say it. I miss you. I miss us. And I’ve been scared, of trying again, failing again. But I'm more scared of never getting the chance.”

“So, this is me, finally not running. You don’t have to reply. Just–know that if you ever feel like coming back, I’m here. I’m still yours, if you want me.”

Aitana covers her mouth with her hand. The edges of her eyes sting. She replays the last two sentences three times. 

Her fingers shake slightly as she switches to her voice memos. She’s never recorded one after hearing your voice. Never with the possibility of being heard.

This time, she steadies herself and hits record.

Aitana — Voice Memo (Sent)

October 27, 10:57

“I listened. Four times. You sound the same. Except softer. Sadder.” Aitana inhales deeply, trying to stop the lump in her throat from cracking.

“I was angry for so long. But not just at you–at myself. For not saying what I needed to say when it mattered. For thinking you’d wait. For pretending I was okay.”

“I think about you constantly. In every pass I make. Every goal I celebrate. I wonder if you’d tease me the way you used to. I wonder if you’d be proud. I think the worst part is, I never stopped writing you into my life–even after you left.”

The brunette let out a quiet exhale, a part of her hoping that you wouldn’t reply.

“I don’t know what we are now. But I know I still love you. I know I want to see you. I know I want to stop hiding behind unsent words.”

“If you’re still mine. I want to come back.”

She hits send before she can change her mind.

[maulweek]

Masterpost | Rules & FAQ | Ask

Maul Week 2024 Prompts

DAY 1 (07/28): TO BE LOVED

DAY 2 (07/29): FANGS AND CLAWS

DAY 3 (07/30): DATHOMIR AND NIGHTBROTHERS

DAY 4 (07/31): STAR WARS CYBORG SUPPORT GROUP MEETING

DAY 5 (08/01): SITH / JEDI SECRETS

DAY 6 (08/02): WOLF AT THE DOOR

DAY 7 (08/03): DEATH OF THE SELF

ALTERNATE SET: PICTURE PROMPTS (under the cut)

You can swap alt prompts for any day you’d like!

ALT 1: Spooky solar eclipse by @jgvfhl

ALT 2: Deimos (2023) by Dragan Bibin

ALT 3: Dolby (1998) by Dan Christensen

ALT 4: Untitled by Andrei Riabovitchev

ALT 5: Untitled by @jgvfhl

ALT 6: Unknown source

ALT 7: by Emilie Hofferber

Tagging: @swfandomevents

[juuuulez]

📰 | richie jerimovich x reader ; “Princess.”

🎧 -> untitled 07, kendrick lamar

info: Richie Jerimovich x Reader, no use of (y/n), reader’s nickname is princess because duh it’s cute, mention of drugs, arguing, brief mention of Mikey, brief mention of a sexual relationship, Richie just wants what’s best for you.

summary: Richie is your dealer, and also a pretty good lay. But recently he’s changed his priorities, and tries to change yours, too.

gigantic bear brainrot right now, and i was thinking about that little glimpse of dealer richie annnndd that’s sorta it! don’t like, don’t read, but the overall consensus is about recovering and breaking old habits.

i also happen to have such a soft spot for this man!!!!!! sue me!!!!!!!!!!!!! i literally wrote this in less than an hour i’m insane

Hey. You working?

Richie’s phone goes off, ironically, right when he’s on his break. Every day, he goes outside for a cigarette at the exact same time. And you know that. He knows you know that, and he also knows what you want. Of course he does. It’s always the same thing. He stopped doing this shit for a reason, but you? He’s weak. And probably stupid.

Neither of you even discuss the plan: it’s protocol at this point. Not even seconds pass, and he’s already punched in a response.

Nah. Come see me.

Minutes later, and there are footsteps approaching down the back alley, towards the door Richie lingers near. He turns to see your form approaching, watching the way you tug at the sleeves of your sweater, likely much too thin to truly combat the cold. With how hasty you’d been, Richie suspects you’d already been nearby. Likely around the corner, just waiting for the go ahead.

It’s been a few weeks since he last saw you, though Richie knew why. Because he didn’t do this shit anymore. To reach out again, you must’ve been desperate. He could work with that.

“Princess.” He greets, nursing a lit cigarette between sharp teeth.

You’re sighing, a look of exasperation on that pretty little face. A mix of relief, and discomfort, at being out in this weather. “You’re my saviour, you know that, right?”

Richie scoffs, already approaching. Closing the gap between you two. “Find that one hard to believe.” He mutters.

As usual, you move in to intrude on Richie’s space, tucking yourself against his side. The biting Chicago winter urges you closer, as he’s somehow warm, though Richie is always warm. One hand ashes his cigarette onto the concrete, and the ofher arm wraps around you, hand cupping the ass of your jeans, thumb tracing the pocket seam.

Laying there is a wad of cash, he can feel the outline faintly under the thick fabric. But he doesn’t take it. Nor does he replace it with anything, despite what you’d been expecting, what he’d agreed to. This routine you’d built up, an unspoken process.

You shift away slightly, looking up at the taller man with furrowed brows. His hand shifts higher, finding its place against your side, holding onto your hip.

“What gives?” You ask, trying to decipher that unreadable look on Richie’s face. For a man so expressive, you were lost on an interpretation in this moment. He wouldn’t even look at you, squinting at some unknown spot in the alley.

Then his head starts shaking, a disapproving look forming, before the words follow. “Sure you don’t want some dope instead?”

“If I wanted dope, I would have asked for it.” You retort. The words were sharp with intent, slightly irritated.

Richie tries harder to convince you, finding that would be easier than outright admitting his concern. “Come on. You haven’t thought about making the switch?” He muses as if it were obvious, taking a long drag from his cigarette. That hand is still on your side.

You roll your eyes. “To what? Being miserable and a fucking downer?”

“No.” Richie rolls his eyes. “To going, I dunno.. natural, or whatever.”

This gets no response, and Richie finally glances down at you. You look confused, but mostly pissed. Definitely some form of agitated.

“Weed and shrooms.” He clarifies with a shrug.

“Are you serious?” You’re snapping at him, finally stepping back a little, out of his hold. “As if you even have shrooms.”

“I could get them if you wanted. Gotta be better than that other shit.”

“Fuck! You’ve gotta be the world’s worst dealer.” You utter, running a hand through your hair and looking off into the distance.

Before he can get a word in, you begin venting, letting that frustration bubble up. “Y’know, if I wanted a lecture, I’d call my parents. But you, Richie?”

So, he snaps back. Like he always does. After all, fighting is miles easier than having an actual discussion. “I dunno, princess, this ain’t fuckin’ right! I can’t do this shit to you.”

“It’s coke, Richie! Not heroin. I’ll be fine.” You urge.

He shakes his head, voice only rising with his temper, a tone most are accustomed to. “You know that’s not the fucking point.” The words have anger in them, laced with bite, intent.

And for some reason.. some, god forsaken reason, you let up.

Maybe you knew this would happen. Maybe you had the smallest, tiniest inkling that coming to Richie, of all people, was a bad idea. You knew he’d stopped dealing, for the most part. But you couldn’t blame him, not after everything that happened with Mikey. It’s not like you didn’t know him, too, but it was different.

So, you relent, pressing a hand over the crease of your brows. “Okay, okay. Just..” You can’t get out a full sentence, mind reeling with about twenty thoughts at once. The most prominent notion: you certainly weren’t getting your coke today. Not from Richie. And, frankly, you didn’t trust anyone else.

He looks down at your dejected form, jaw clenched with tension. Richie didn’t like being the bearer of bad news, by any means, and felt a pang of sympathy. In an ideal world, he’d give you anything and everything you wanted.

In an ideal world, you wouldn’t be asking.

“What’ya need it for, anyway?” He ends up inquiring, tone a tad softer, now that the hostility has simmered.

You shrug, kicking around a rock. “House party.”

Richie nods, getting a vague idea of what was happening. It was for later. That was good.

“Then how ‘bout.. you come over to mine,” He suggested, “We smoke up instead.”

It wasn’t an unfamiliar request, but any means. You’d spent many nights in his apartment. It was lonely and derelict, as most days, he didn’t have his daughter around. Sometimes things escalated. By all means, Richie was certainly a good fuck, if anything. But you were messy, complicated, not someone that stuck around for long. Richie understood that, as he wasn’t looking to settle down, either. Not with someone like you. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Already bought the beer, Rich.” You justify, giving a minor resistance towards the idea.

Of course, he has a solution for everything. “Bring it.”

You nod along, the slightest of smirks appearing on those plump lips. It was clear as day, a physical indicator that you were fucking weak for anything he suggested. “So you’re denying me product, and you’re gonna drink my beer?”

“Yeah, but the weed is free.” Richie offered, a grin beginning to form, purely because he was getting what he wanted.

There’s a low whistle, sucking the air from between your teeth. It’s cold out, and you’d rather get home, given this was supposed to be a quick pick-up. The thought of spending a night over at a Richie’s place was incredibly tempting, given you hadn’t seen him much lately. He’d been pulling away, which was understandable. You weren’t exactly the healthiest to be around.

“M’kay, weirdo.” You agree, looking away to avoid spotting how purely happy that makes Richie. Deep down, you know he’s genuinely pleased with himself, not just for getting you to come over, but to abandon the drug altogether, even if just for a night. He’s fixing you, making you a better person, which you really fucking hate.

He throws the cigarette to the ground, stomping on its ashy remains. “See? What a good fuckin’ girl you can be. Just gotta use that pretty little head more.”

To emphasise his point, Richie cups the top of your head, fingers disrupting the part of your hair. His hands are huge, for the most part, covering the expanse of your skull. It prompts you to swat it away with a displeased grunt.

“Don’t push it, asshole.” You warn, already trying to fix your hair. Before he can cause any more damage, you’re turning on your heel, eager to escape the cold.

“10pm. Don’t be late, princess.” Richie calls out to your retreating form, watching the semi-enthusiastic thumbs up you flash him in return.

Feeling pretty goddamn successful, he gets back to work.

[chheolie]

hello and welcome! here, i share little texts i write in my free time. feel free to make a request—i’ll do my best to bring it to life as soon as possible! 😊

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

01. “i should buy that diner just to fire that unprofessional attendant.” (jealous seungcheol)

02. “when i met jeonghan, i never imagined i would have two other perfect copies of him in my life.” (seungcheol as father of a little girl in primary school #1)

03. untitled (seungcheol comforting y/n on a sad day)

04. “tell your neighbor to find another personal driver” (jealous y/n)

05. untitled (seungcheol as father of a little girl in primary school #2)

06. untitled (seungcheol as father of a little girl in primary school #3)

YOON JEONGHAN

01. coming soon

JOSHUA HONG

01. coming soon

WEN JUNHUI

01. coming soon

KWON SOONYOUNG

01. coming soon

JEON WONWOO

01. coming soon

LEE JIHOON

01. woozi's room

LEE SEOKMIN

01. kkuma coups’ best friend!

02. late night conversation

03. “help me forget him tonight, please.” (mdni)

04. untitled (y/n arguing with seokmin)

05. where seokmin can’t wait for his son to grow up and play baseball with him

06. ready get set go get it go ♪ (part 1)

07. ready get set go get it go ♪ (part 2)

KIM MINGYU

01. untitled (best friends cycling)

02. where kim mingyu unexpectedly encounters his first love in paris

03. mingyu realized he had fallen in love, despite never having exchanged a single word with you

04. favorite enemy: the series where mingyu and y/n are childhood friends (enemies)

• empty hands

• scary tree (suggestive)

• market

XU MINGHAO

01. coming soon

BOO SEUNGKWAN

01. coming soon

HANSOL VERNON CHWE

01. coming soon

LEE CHAN

01. coming soon

OT13 SERIES

01. (coming soon)

[steviebbboi]

STEVIEBBBOI MAIN MASTERLIST

Last Updated: 5/07/25

Hi, lads~ welcome! I typically write for Chris Evans characters, Henry Cavill characters, and Charlie Hunnam characters :) but I also write for a few other misc. characters! I also create dividers for writers to use.

❌ Requests are closed for any writing asks!

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Important to Note: Be mindful that most of my fics that I write and recommend are typically 18+. Minors DNI, you are responsible for the kind of content that you consume. Please read all individual warnings within each individual fic and be mindful.

I don't give any permission to post this anywhere else. This is only posted on here, FFNet, and Ao3-- please do not steal work, my friends! I also don't own ANY of the characters from the fandoms that I write.

I do block untitled blogs, minors, and blogs that are not recent (i.e. last reblog is in 2019).

If you have any capacity to kindly support a struggling girlie, feel free to check out my Kofi <3

Works on Ao3

Dividers Masterlist

BB's Masterlist

Logan Howlett/The Wolverine

Chris Evans Characters

Henry Cavill Characters

Stevie BB 200 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge Masterlist 🥹

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Check out My WIP's

List of Resources for Writers

Other Fandoms/Characters that I am feeeening to write for:

Raymond Smith from The Gentlemen Tommy Shelby from Peaky Blinders Eric Coulter from Divergent series/films Bellamy Blake from the 100 Matt Murdock from Daredevil

[velarisdusk]

general overview!! - remaining 1k Apothecary Requests - 2 new series!!! (hopefully another WoI at some point) - ive got some stray reqs in my inbox. these wont necessarily be after all this, just whenever i get to them

all are gonna be scheduled to post @ 9PM EST! schedule below the cut (dates are subject to change i get busy sometimes believe it or not lmao)

1k Apothecary Requests: (06/27) — Where the Smoke Settled | Eris x Reader (07/07) — Untitled | (my pick >:) still havent decided lmao) (07/13) — Untitled | Azriel x Reader

(07/17) — The Darkness Carves Our Names into Eternity | Az x Reader Series

(07/28) — Something Like Truth | Therapist!Rhys x Reader Series (FINALLY AAAAAA)

[twilighttwilight-nihilnihil]

Been rlly into this early Animal Collective live bootleg and I can't for the life of me remember where I found it so here you go

[blueengland]

Stuck In Lavendar Town

TRAPPED #1 - Evin Evilmart TRAPPED #7 - Yellogreen

MED-KIT: It's not safe to go alone! EVIN: Stay out of my way, okay?

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET THREE - ROUND ONE - MATCH EIGHT

“Salvator Mundi (Savior of the World)” (c.1499-1510/2006-07 - Leonardo da Vinci) / “Untitled (billboard of an empty unmade bed)” (1991 - Félix González-Torres)

SALVATOR MUNDI: It is absolutely captivating to me. The gaze comes straight through the broken up surface. (@skeppsbrott)

UNTITLED (BILLBOARD OF AN EMPTY UNMADE BED): this piece has stuck with me for years, the most out of all of his work, which is saying a lot. this statement of grief through the private made public, and not just the private made public but that which society wanted so badly to be hidden and eliminated put into the open, just fucks me up so much. There is grief and love here, yes, but defiance also. It is a refusal to keep this suffering quiet, and certainly a refusal to keep this behind closed doors. beyond that, the fact that it is their bed, that you can see where their heads were lain the night before, yet the absence is palpable- it’s such a devastating and accurate portrait of grief, of absence where before there was presence. (@hineinihineini)

("Salvator Mundi" (Savior of the World) is a oil on walnut panel painting attributed to Leonardo da Vinci, but possibly by another artist. The submitter specifically requested the post cleaning and pre-restoration version of this painting. This painting measures 45.4 by 65.6 cm (25.8 by 19.2 in) and is privately held.

"Untitled (billboard of an empty unmade bed)" is a 1991 work by Cuban-American gay artist Félix González-Torres. This work was exhibited on over two dozen billboards throughout Manhattan.)

[glitchartistscollective]

Dregon Slay - untitled - 07-06-2025

Source: Glitch artists collective - Facebook

[v1sexual]

if u don't mind me asking, what are your current wips 👁👁

hi anon ! i’ve got a like 9 wips on the way 🌝 8 of them are vi fanfics (which shouldn’t be a surprise at this point) and one is a viktor fic hehe. the first and last wip were something i came up with and the rest are all reqs hehe. as a treat, here are my wips, their synopsis, and when will i post them :>

allie’s wips :

01 . casual ; vi (headcanons)

- headcanons of your casual situationship with vi ! this is one is self indulgent and heavily inspired by my current wlw situationship :/

will be posting this one in a couple of hours !

02. my lips, your lips ; vi (oneshot)

- requested by anon !

- bar night with pit fighter vi ends up with you two getting a bit frisky

will be posting tomorrow ! (hopefully)

03. i love you so ; vi (headcanon)

- requested by anon

- headcanons of vi comforting emotional/sensitive reader after a big incident!

will be posting probably around tomorrow as well !

04. mr. loverman ; vi (oneshot)

- requested by anon

- in which the reader and vi are childhood lovers that got separated after vander died and silco took over zaun. they reunite but the reader isn’t too thrilled with how close vi and their new enforcer friend are. as much as she wants to avoid them she can’t, her help was needed to fight jinx alongside them.

will be posting in two days!

05. save a horse, ride a cowgirl ; vi (oneshot)

- requested by anon

- cowgirl vi. no further comments.

will be posting in two days! (hopefully)

06. untitled ; vi (oneshot/headcanon)

- requested by anon

- actor au where they're filming s2 ep7 and the actor for teen! Vi keeps corpsing when she's trying to play dead

will be posting in two-three days

07. eternal sunshine ; vi (arcane)

- requested by anon

- in which vi and her girlfriend stumbles upon one of her exes, cait. despite being with vi, you can’t help but feel a little bit self conscious. luckily for you, vi is more than happy to give you reassurance.

will be posting in three to four days!

08. untitled; vi (headcanons)

- requested by anon

- headcanons of vi x fem reader with vitiligo !

will be posting soon (in a couple of hours maybe)

09. as the world caves in ; viktor (series)

- modern au ! chronically ill viktor x healthcare worker reader. angst. pure angst.

currently in the works ! idk when it’ll be posted

[shoverse]

♡ MASTERLIST ♡

fluff {♡} | angst {☆} | smut {!!} | smau {✿} | written {♪}

STRAY KIDS | 스키즈

#01 — BANGCHAN | 방찬 !

random bf texts ♡ ✿ | untitled ☆♪

#02 — LEE MINHO | 이민호 !

random bf texts ♡ ✿ | love ♡♪| call me (urs?) ♡ ✿ | catboy! minho ♪ !! what does love mean to you? ♡ ♪

#03 — SEO CHANGBIN | 서창빈 !

nothing yet... 💤

#04 — HWANG HYUNJIN | 황현진 !

sunrise ♡♪

#05 — HAN JISUNG | 한지성 !

nothing yet... 💤

#06 — LEE FELIX | 이필릭스 !

random bf texts ♡ ✿

#07 — KIM SEUNGMIN | 김승민 !

random bf texts ♡ ✿ | a wrong to a right ♡ ✿ | puppy! seungmin ♪ !!

#08 — YANG JEONGIN | 양정인 !

yellow ♡♪

#01 — OT8 | 스키즈 !

what is love? ♡ ♪

#02 — HYUNG LINE | 형라인 !

drunk text confessions ♡ ☆ ✿ | sending them memes of themselves ♡ ✿ | 3AM texts ♡ ✿ | sending them nudes ♡ !! | butchering their skzoo ♡ ✿ | simping for them ♡ ✿ | can i munch yo ass? ♡ ✿

#03 — MAKNAE LINE | 막내라인 !

text confessions ♡ ✿ | babysitting ♡ ✿ | drunk text confessions ♡ ✿ | sending them memes of themselves ♡ ✿ simping for them ♡ ✿

[pwlanier]

GAUL, WINFRED

Düsseldorf 1928 - 2003

Title: Untitled (26-07-58).

Date: 1958.

Technique: Oil on canvas.

Van Ham