#it’s actually quite serious but I don’t know how to process serious things

[harleythealter]

Me: I shouldn’t go swimming if there’s chlorine in that pool because I’m allergic.

Every other person I’ve had this conversation with: Isn’t everybody allergic to chlorine?

Me: Well-

Every other person I’ve had this conversation with: -because it’s really bad for everybody.

Me: I mean that I’m really really allergic. As in I stop breathing and feel like I’m suffocating. It’s probably best if I stay behind and read in my room instead.

Me(alternatively): I actually mean that I have an asthma attack when I go in chlorine water, or when I enter a pool room, or when I walk past a swimming pool, even out in the open. I’m saying I can’t go with you if you decide to do that activity for your birthday/event/whatever.

Every other person I’ve had this conversation with: Oh… well maybe you shouldn’t come then.

Me: *fakes a smile and blinks a few times* I agree.

[pucksandpower]

If I Was a Worm

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: would you still love me if I was a worm?

Max leans back on the plush leather couch, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where a football match flickers. The living room is bathed in the warm glow of evening sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. You’re curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Max?” You murmur, breaking the comfortable silence.

He hums in response, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. The question that’s been nagging at you feels silly now that you’re about to voice it. But curiosity wins out. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Max’s hand stills. He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “A worm? Like, an actual worm?”

You nod, fighting back a smile at his bewildered expression.

He lets out a short laugh. “Where did that come from?”

“Just answer the question,” you insist, poking his side playfully.

Max runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process this unexpected turn in conversation. “I mean ... I guess? But why would you be a worm?”

You shrug, sitting up to face him properly. “It’s hypothetical, Max. Just go with it.”

He sighs, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his eyes. “Alright, fine. If you were a worm, I’d ... I’d buy you the best soil? Make sure you had plenty of leaves to eat?”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt. “That’s sweet, but not quite what I meant.”

Max groans, throwing his head back against the couch. “I don’t know how to love a worm! What do worms even do?”

“They wiggle,” you offer helpfully, demonstrating with a wave of your hand.

He captures your wiggling hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “Okay, so you’d wiggle. And I’d ... watch you wiggle?”

You burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Max joins in, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulls you closer.

“I’m serious though,” you say once the laughter subsides. “Would you still love me? Even if I wasn’t ... me anymore?”

Max’s expression softens, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Is that what this is really about? You’re worried I wouldn’t love you if you changed?”

You nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know it’s silly ...”

“Hey,” Max says gently, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “It’s not silly. And to answer your question: yes, I’d still love you. Worm or not.”

“Even if I couldn’t talk to you anymore? Or hug you? Or do any of the things we do together?”

Max is quiet for a moment, considering. “I think ... I think love isn’t just about what someone can do for you. It’s about who they are, their essence. And that wouldn’t change, even if you were a worm.”

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “That’s ... actually really profound, Max.”

He grins, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I have my moments.”

“So you’d be okay with having a worm girlfriend?” You tease, lightening the mood.

Max laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, it would definitely make my life interesting. Imagine trying to explain that to the press.”

You adopt a mock-serious tone. “Max, is it true that your girlfriend is now a invertebrate?’“

He plays along, mimicking his media voice. “Yes, it’s true. But I can assure you, she’s the most beautiful earthworm you’ve ever seen.”

You both dissolve into giggles, the earlier tension completely dissipated.

“Seriously though,” Max says once you’ve caught your breath. “Where did this worm thing come from?”

You shrug, a bit embarrassed now. “I don’t know. I was just thinking about how much our lives have changed since we got together. And how they might keep changing. I guess I wanted to know if there was a limit to ... us.”

Max’s expression turns thoughtful. “I get that. Our lives are pretty crazy sometimes.”

“Understatement of the year,” you mutter.

He chuckles. “Fair enough. But you know, through all the craziness, you’re my constant. My home base. That wouldn’t change, even if you grew an exoskeleton.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Worms don’t have exoskeletons.”

“Same difference,” Max says with a dismissive wave. “The point is, I love you. All of you. Not just the parts that are convenient or easy.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat, touched by his sincerity. “Even the parts that ask weird hypothetical questions?”

“Especially those parts,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “They keep me on my toes.”

You snuggle closer to him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Thank you for humoring me.”

“Always,” Max murmurs. “Though I have to ask ... why a worm? Why not like, a cat or something?”

You laugh. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head. Plus, a cat would be too easy. You already like cats.”

“True,” he concedes. “But at least a cat could watch races with me. What would a worm do all day?”

You pretend to consider this seriously. “Worm things. Soil aeration. Composting.”

Max nods solemnly. “Ah yes, very important worm business.”

“Hey, don’t mock my hypothetical worm life,” you protest, poking his chest. “I’d be a very accomplished worm, I’ll have you know.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare question your worm credentials.”

You both fall silent for a moment, the absurdity of the conversation sinking in.

“We’re ridiculous, aren’t we?” You say finally, unable to keep the smile off your face.

Max grins. “Completely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You lean in to kiss him, feeling a rush of affection for this man who can make even the silliest conversations feel meaningful.

As you pull away, Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “You know, if you really want to be a worm, I could always bury you in the garden ...”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Max Verstappen, don’t you dare!”

He laughs, pulling you closer. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Though it might be fun to see you wiggle ...”

You swat his arm playfully. “Keep it up and you’ll be the one sleeping in the garden tonight.”

Max’s expression turns serious, though there’s still a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You know, all this worm talk has got me thinking ...”

“Oh?” You say, curious about where he’s going with this.

He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I’ve realized something important.”

You wait, eyebrow raised expectantly.

“If you were a worm,” Max says slowly, building suspense, “you’d be the prettiest worm in the world.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest to muffle your laughter. “That was terrible.”

“But true,” he insists, chuckling. “You’d leave all the other worms in the dust. Or ... soil, I guess.”

You look up at him, shaking your head fondly. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” Max says confidently.

And as you gaze into his warm, playful eyes, you can’t deny it. You do love it. You love him, in all his goofy, sweet, sometimes infuriating glory.

“Yeah,” you admit softly. “I really do.”

Max’s expression softens, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I love you. Worm or human or anything in between.”

You lean into his touch, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over you. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he says firmly. “Though I have to admit, I’m pretty fond of this current version of you.”

You smile, your earlier insecurities fading away in the warmth of his gaze. “Me too. I think I’ll stick with being human for now.”

“Good choice,” Max murmurs, pulling you in for another kiss. “Though I bet you’d make a cute worm.”

[koolades-world]

Hii!! I was wondering if I could get headcanons for an mc that was really attached to the brothers? Like they’re often around them and don’t really give a reason why. It’s only later that they tell the brothers that they’re less frightened when with them. I can only imagine how absolutely terrifying the devildom must be to first timers. Sorry if this was too wordy lol.

hello there :) of course. no worries, not too wordy!!

enjoy <3

Mc who's attached to the brothers

Lucifer

he finds it a little odd that you picked him of all people

hope you're ready to be put to work! of course nothing too serious but you'll for sure be helping carry around papers and stuff like that

in a way, you remind him of his brothers, the loving, cute side of them, not the little gremlin side haha

however when you tell him it's because you are just more comfortable around him, he gives you a gentle smile and hug. you find after this he's sweeter in subtle ways <3

Mammon

of course you want to follow the great mammon around! who wouldn't?

he's a little insecure at first, like you might be reporting back to lucifer with what you see and hear, but you reassure him there's no real reason

he really enjoys getting to spend so much time with you and is glad you're willing to be his friend

he has no clue how to react upon learning the real reason behind why you're always with him, so at first he reacts as he usually would, but once he processes it, he sheepishly will tell you thank you for entrusting him with such an honor

Levi

why would you want to spend so much time with a yucky otaku like him?

as you grow closer, he really begins to enjoy your presence and having a buddy to always chat with about the things he's interested in and won't leave him mid-conversation

you help him grow more optimistic and confident in himself

he initially questions why you'd pick him of all demons to feel most comfortable around, but once he realizes it's because of the bond you formed, he's still shy but is ready to accept this fact. anywhere you go, he'll follow

Satan

he doesn't stop you but he always wonders why you've selected him, the avatar of wrath, to act as your devildom buddy?

at first, he juts chalks it up to wanting to hide behind his rage and get help with rad work, but soon you start to form a closer bond

it's then when you confess that you just feel safer and more comfortable around him. part of his hunch was correct, but what you described was on a much closer, more personal reason

now, he always waits for you and helps you out where he can because now he knows you like him for him, not what others see him as. others say he really softened up after that day

Asmo

his bed is always open if you want to crawl in with him and will gladly be your beautiful knight in shining armor haha

he's used to having fans, but you're much more than that to him

he really doesn't mind and finds it nice to always have someone around

when you tell him the real reason why, he's going to squeal so loud the demon lord hears and hug you incredibly tightly. maybe he's tearing up a little, but you're literally inseparable now. after that beautiful emotional display you're joined at the hip

Beel

he really quite likes that you like to be around him. early on, it's actually quite a comfort because belphie wasn't around and he was quick to reciprocate the closeness

the two of you always seek each other out, and you quickly fall into a routine

soon, you tell him he makes the devildom more welcoming and make you feel more at home, and he's over the moon

even more so than before, he really looks out for you and treats you as a member of the family even if the others haven't gotten to that level yet. to him, you belong at the hol and in the devildom, with him

Belphie

every time he woke up from a nap, he'd find you next to him. he thought it was a little odd but he wasn't going to stop you

he honestly thought you'd never want to see him again, but you always seem to be by his side

odd was the only word he could find to describe you and the bon you'd formed. he never pressed you for why since he didn't feel like he deserved to know

he's overjoyed that he's your safe place. he never thought you'd seek comfort in him, but he's ready to welcome you with open arms. he's ready to join you on every step of your journey where ever you go, and he'll keep you safe since he feels as if he failed you before

[astroninaaa]

wtf is going on with cellbit - by a brazilian law major student

hey besties ever since the day cellbit released that PDF i’ve been keeping up with his shit bc as a law student (only two years to go!!!!) in brazil it’s kinda really interesting to see how it goes, specially since i don’t think we’ve ever had this sort of judicial action taken by an internet celebrity, like, ever. so i’ve decided to kinda explain what’s going on. if anyone has any questions after this i’d be really up to talk about it i love talking about law 🫶 xoxo let’s start. also sorry if anything reads weird english is not my native language okay

for those who don’t know, very recently, a judicial action taken by cellbit has made public. in this action, he’s suing over 200 people for the crime of defamation.

the action was taken to court in january, but it was under what we call “secret of justice”, which means only cellbit himself and twitter’s lawyers had access to it. now that there have been decisions by the judge and everything, the process’s been made public.

basically, cellbit started an action against twitter (NOT THE PEOPLE WHO COMMITTED THE CRIME YET), citing a little over 200 tweets that accused him of crimes like SA, psychological abuse, pedophilia, and others. all of those are real crimes in brazil — and accusing someone of committing crimes (specially as awful crimes as those) without proof is a crime in itself (defamation). he claimed that the tweets were harmful to his honor, mental health, and reputation, besides categorizing as defamation, since there’s no investigation going on against him for all these infractions he’s being accused of.

with that, he asked twitter to delete all the tweets, and to provide him with the personal information of said twitter accounts so he can sue them directly for defamation. he did these requests through something called “tutela cautelar”, which means the judge gets to decide whether or not twitter has to do these things before proof production and proper investigation, since, if twitter doesn’t do those things, the damage to his honor and reputation will be ongoing + he won’t be able to sue the proper people in time.

the judge conceded to his requests, and twitter has already deleted all the tweets. the main discussion going right now is wtf do they do about the international accounts — does our law apply to them? what’s gonna happen? we don’t know yet. that’s being discussed in court for the moment and, considering brazilian courts, it might take quite a while.

so, yeah, all those people aren’t being sued YET. but they will, probably somewhat soon.

it’s also important to mention that this lawsuit is from january and was only now released to the public. there’s probably a lot more coming after the whole fiasco that led him to releasing his statement, including a lawsuit against his ex herself.

now, other topics — could he sue other twitter accounts for cyber bullying or death threats? probably, but my personal opinion is that suing for defamation and focusing on accounts that were accusing him of having committed crimes was a much better move because it’s a much stronger case.

there’s very little room for discussion when a person has outright said “cellbit committed this crime”. death threats have more room for discussion: “oh, but they’re hundreds of miles away, it wasn’t a serious threat”, “they didn’t mean it”, “it was a joke”. same thing goes for cyberbullying: it can get too subjective.

defamation isn’t subjective. you accuse someone of a crime they didn’t commit? boom, defamation, at least according to our laws. so, to me, personally, it makes a LOT of sense for his lawyers to focus on that: he’s a LOT more likely to win than if he was suing for cyberbullying, threatening, insult, or any of that. also, he’s a lot more likely to win FASTER.

when he gets to sue the actual people who committed the crime, that is. for now, he’s only requested twitter to give him the necessary information to get to these people, which i think they’ll very likely be obligated to do. there are digital data protection laws in brazil, but a crime is a crime. digital data protection isn’t gonna protect you from the court.

another thing: LGPD (brazil’s general law of personal data protection) forces all social media companies to keep records of all the content posted by their users for AT LEAST six months. many companies keep it for way longer. that’s a law created for judicial purposes, in case something published to twitter, facebook, or instagram needs to be analysed by a court. that’s why even tho twitter has deleted the tweets, they still have them, and why it doesn’t matter if the people responsible are deleting the tweets, the accounts, the fucking app itself. the records are still there, and they will be used judicially.

i think that’s the overall for the situation, but i’m willing to answer any questions and to discuss it if anyone wants to! i’m a big law enjoyer. also personally i think cellbit is so fucking right for this like YEAH people don’t get to commit fucking crimes on twitter and get away with it. really interested in how this is gonna go law-wise, but in general also really glad to see someone take action like this.

[breezeflows]

The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 3

WOOP WOOP CHAPTER 3 IS HERE AND BOY IS IT JUICY🫣 On a serious note though, we are finally getting into some of the exciting bits of the story!! I’m hoping by the next chapter we will finally be back in the present. No more sad flashbacks!! Also y’all writing Lizzy is genuinely my favorite. If this fic wasn’t about Ford I’d be wifing her up instead😔 Anyways- here’s chapter 3 you lovely souls!

Themes: Consumption of alcohol (reader lowkey gets wasted), major hangover, bill himself is a warning, suggestiveness kind of?? idk, heartache, lizzy is overall an amazing friend, alllll the angst and feelings, injuries, etc okay enjoy!

The drive to Lizzy’s place is quiet, the steady hum of the car engine and the sound of raindrops against the windshield the only background noise. You sit in the passenger seat, watching the trees pass by through the window as you fiddle with the wedding band around your finger. Lizzy glances at you occasionally, a small frown on her face as she senses your mood. She remains silent for most of the ride, giving you space to process your emotions if need be.

It's not long before the car rolls to a stop in front of her apartment building. You reach around to gather your belongings from the backseat and step out into the rainy afternoon. Lizzy follows suit, bright pink umbrella in hand as she leads you towards the entrance.

Once inside the building, she unlocks the door to her apartment building and the two of you usher inside. The soft yellow light of the living room envelopes you, creating a cozy atmosphere in stark contrast to the gloominess outside.

Lizzy begins to kick off her shoes, hanging her keys as she silently studies your face. She can see the turmoil in your eyes, and the uncertainty you’re trying to hide.

“So,” she says gently, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

Your eyes snap out of the daze they were in as you look over at Lizzy, giving her a weak smile.

“Oh, yeah I guess. Things went a lot better than I thought they would.”

Her expression relaxes at your response, a hint of relief showing on her face.

“That’s good,” she says as she walks over to the couch and plops down on it, gesturing for you to do the same. “I was half-expecting a tearful scene or something, honestly.”

You manage a light chuckle at her remark, plopping down on the couch next to her. You pull your knees to your chest as you grab a blanket draped across the back of it, wrapping it around you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Ford took it pretty well, actually. Better than I expected.”

Lizzy raises a brow as she leans against the back cushions, her arms crossing. “Girl, he better take it well after what he said to you. If it had been me, I would’ve dropped his ass on the spot.”

You can’t help but let out a small snort of laughter at her words, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips for the first time in a while. It’s a relief to have Lizzy’s no-nonsense attitude around, her bluntness serving as a much-needed dose of honesty.

“Yeah, yeah Liz, I know.” you admit, the smile still lingering on your face. “I was a little tempted.”

Lizzy grins, satisfied with your response as she reaches over and pats your knee supportively.

“As you should,” she says with a nod. “You don’t deserve treatment like that of any kind, no matter how important his research is to him.”

You frown slightly at her words, opting to pick at the blanket below as a distraction.

“Yeah..”

Lizzy watches your expression carefully, sensing your discomfort. She tilts her head slightly, her gaze searching your face.

“But you don’t quite agree, do you?” she probes gently.

You let out a sigh, unsure how to articulate your feelings as you continue to fiddle with the fabric of the blanket.

“It’s just… complicated Liz,” you say, your voice tinged with guilt and frustration. “Yes, I’m hurt and angry with him, but I also understand where he’s coming from. We’ve been together almost our whole lives, and this is all he has ever worked towards. His research is important to him, and he’s under a lot of pressure.”

Lizzy nods slowly as she listens to your words, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. She reaches over and places a hand on top of yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting.

“I get that Y/N, I do,” she says quietly. “And I’m not saying he’s completely in the wrong. But you shouldn’t have to feel like an afterthought in his life either. That’s not fair to you.”

Your eyes brim with tears at her response, your hand twisting and taking hers tightly.

“I know,” you say, your voice threatening to break. “I just wish we could fix things..”

Lizzy squeezes your hand as your tear-filled eyes meet hers.

“And you will, Y/N. It’ll just take some time.”

A small, wobbly smile forms on your lips at her reassurance, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. The hope that you might be able to fix things with Ford, to find a way to bridge the gap that’s widened between you both, is a small but significant comfort.

“Thank you, Liz,” you murmur, your voice still shaky. “I really hope you’re right.”

Lizzy stands with a smile, her hand pulling away from yours and resting on your shoulder.

“I know I’m right chick, because you two love each other. I’ve seen it.”

Your heart warms at her confidence, a soft smile forming on your lips as you nod.

“Now, how about some pizza?”

The few weeks you spend with Lizzy fly by, days passing in a blur of movies, late-night conversations, and plenty of chocolate induced comfort eating. As the final night of your stay approaches, Lizzy turns to you with a sly grin on her face.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been pretty reclusive the past couple of weeks, but it’s your last night here and I refuse to let you spend it watching crappy movies in my living room.”

She places her hands on her hips and gives you a stern look.

“We’re going out for drinks and that’s final.”

You mope as you walk into her view from the bathroom, your voice annoyed and pleading as you speak.

“Liz, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m a married woman, and this dress feels less than... modest.”

Lizzy rolls her eyes, her expression clearly unconvinced.

“Girl, you’re not here to pick up someone, you’re here to have fun. And as for the dress I picked out for you, it looks fantastic. Stop overthinking it.”

She gives you a onceover, inspecting your outfit.

“Besides, I’d like to see anyone who tries hitting on you tonight.”

You pout as you watch her, pulling down your dress so it covers your knees.

“I don’t know how Ford would feel about this..”

Lizzy scoffs, shaking her head.

“Ford’s not here, and we both know he should be the last person you’re trying to impress right now. You’re still young, and attractive Y/N, you deserve to enjoy yourself for one night without him on your mind. Not to mention you’ve got to live your life without kids while you can. I know the two of you have talked about it. ”

She grabs the hem of your dress and tugs it back up, flashing you a defiant look.

“And if he has a problem with you having fun, he can talk to me.”

You sigh as you give in, knowing Lizzy wouldn’t be changing her mind about your all’s plans for the night.

“Fine, fine. But we’re not staying out too late, okay?”

Lizzy grins, victorious.

“That’s more like it! And don’t worry, I promise we won’t be out until dawn,” she assures you. “Just a few drinks, maybe a little dancing, and then we’ll come back here. You trust me, right?”

“More than anything Liz.”

And that’s how you find yourself at the bar now, one too many drinks in and slumped against Lizzy’s shoulder.

She laughs at your state, her own cheeks flushed from drinking. She slings an arm around your shoulders, keeping you upright and steady in the booth the two of you occupied.

“Goodness chick, are you already trashed? We’ve barely been here an hour!” she teases, her voice lighthearted and amused.

You grumble something in response, your head spinning from the alcohol in your system. You take another sip from your glass, your tongue loose and inhibitions lowered.

“I blame you,” you slur, pointing an accusatory finger at Lizzy. “You’re a bad influence.”

Lizzy laughs loudly at your accusation, her eyes sparkling. “No one forced you to down those shots, Y/N,” she says, sliding out of the booth with ease. “I’m going to get you some water, alright? You stay right here in your seat.”

You nod lazily at her words, the idea of staying where you are very appealing. You watch groggily as she strides away, her bell bottoms and flare top in tow. She weaves through the crowd to make her way to the counter, your eyes becoming heavy.

Just as you’re starting to doze off from the alcohol, a presence suddenly sits down in the booth across from you. You blink in surprise, your vision clearing slightly as you focus on the newcomer.

Your eyes widen as you recognize your husband’s face, his features strangely serious and intense as he stares back at you. But there’s something off about him… Something otherworldly in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice cool and calculated. “If it isn’t dear Y/N. You look a little worse for wear.”

Your vision blurs as you grip the side of the table, your words slurred as you speak.

“F.. Ford?”

Ford smiles widely, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. The expression is slightly unfamiliar, different from the familiar warmth you’re used to. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“In the flesh, honey,” he drawls, his voice smooth and flirtatious.

“But I see you’ve had quite a few drinks already. Feeling a little dazed? I wonder how Sixer would feel about me seeing you in this state and not him. Hilarious!”

Your arm trembles weakly as you hold yourself up, vision blurring in and out as you sway slightly in your seat.

“Wha.. What? Why are you.. here..?”

His lips curl into a smug smirk as he eyes your disheveled form, eyes lingering on your exposed skin, clearly enjoying your confusion and intoxication.

“Oh, I had a little chat with Fordsy earlier. He agreed to let me take the reins for a few hours…”

He gives a careless shrug. “You know how he is. All work and no play. Figured I’d take advantage of the situation, hell, I even got him a new tattoo!”

You sit there, dumbfounded and wavering in and out of consciousness as your mind tried to process what Ford was talking about.

Ford’s – or rather, Bill’s – eyes rake over you again, giving an exaggerated sigh before his lips turned into a sly grin.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, I can see why Sixer married you.”

Your thoughts are still spinning from the alcohol, making it hard to focus on the conversation. You struggle to keep yourself upright, your body feeling heavy and numb.

Bill notices your dazed state, chuckling as he gives a mockingly sympathetic tone.

“You look a little out of it, darling. You really shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Especially considering how easy it’d be to trick you into a deal right now.”

Your mind races with confusion as you stand up weakly, your gut telling you something wasn’t right as you sway back and forth, (Or maybe it was the alcohol) your vision blurring as you scan the place in search of Lizzy.

“Going somewhere? Those human legs of yours don’t look very stable!”

You wobble forward, ignoring his protests as you keep moving.

“You really should listen to me if you want to avoid that nasty bruise tomorrow!”

He calls out, and before you know it you trip, and everything goes black.

Hours later… aka early morning.

You slowly open your eyes, your head pounding and your memories fuzzy. You realize you’re lying on a couch in Lizzy’s apartment, a cool cloth pressed over what you assume to be a large tender bruise on your forehead.

Lizzy is sitting perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She notices your eyes flutter open and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Oh thank god,” she mutters. “You had me worried for a second there. I stayed up with you all night waiting for you to wake up.”

“Liz?” you mumble, head pounding. “What the hell happened? My head is killing me..”

Her expression softens at your groggy murmur, her hand reaching out instinctively to brush the hair away from your face.

“Hey, take it easy,” she says, voice low and soothing. “You took a pretty nasty fall back at the bar. Hit your head on a table on the way down.”

Your eyes widen as your memory jogs itself.

“What..? Wait, Ford.. Ford was there?”

Lizzy freezes, her expression guarded at the mention of Ford. She averts her gaze, focusing her attention on the cloth that she’s holding against your forehead.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, her voice hesitant. “He showed up towards the end of the night when I went to grab you a water… You don’t remember?”

You think to yourself for a moment, your memory patchy and vague.

“I mean, I kind of do. But it was weird? Did something happen?”

Lizzy is silent, her gaze still firmly averted from yours. She adjusts the cloth, pressing it against your head with a little more pressure than necessary.

“Nothing happened,” she finally says, her voice tight. “You just had a little too much to drink and tripped, that’s all.”

Her words are curt and dismissive, clearly trying to downplay the situation. But there’s something in her expression, a flicker of unease that betrays her true emotions.

She glances at you briefly, her eyes meeting yours for a split second before moving back to your injury.

“Lizzy..?” you say, silently pleading with her to tell you the full truth.

She exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping in resignation. She knows you’re not going to let this go, and she owes you the truth.

“Alright, fine,” she mutters avoiding your gaze. “When I got back to the booth, it was exactly when you had fell..”

You listen closely, sitting yourself up slightly.

“I had noticed Ford when I got there, sure, but when I went to go help you..”

Lizzy pauses, a frown forming on her face as she continues.

“Ford laughed,” she says as her eyes meet yours, full of concern and.. fear? “And not in a lighthearted way, in a cruel mocking way Y/N..”

Lizzy lowers the cloth from your head, placing it in her lap as you sit there, dumbfounded.

“He was just… enjoying the view, I guess,” She mutters bitterly. “Like you were some kind of joke, I don’t know Y/N. It was fucking weird, really fucking weird. I didn’t like it. He laughed as if he was the one who had done it.”

Lizzy trails off, brows furrowed as she clenches her fists. While you, on the other hand, are utterly speechless.

Your mind reels with this new information, struggling to reconcile the image of Ford – laughing coldly and mockingly at your predicament - with the caring, affectionate husband you’ve known him to be your whole life.

“I… I don’t understand,” you stutter, your voice small and confused.

“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that. Not Ford.”

But as you say those words, you can’t help but recall the other strange things that had happened earlier that night. Ford’s detached demeanor, his unfamiliar choice of words, the way he seemed so cold and calculating. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Had something happened over the few weeks you’ve been gone? Did Ford get too deep in his research? Something wasn’t right.

As you try to make sense of the situation, Lizzy watches you with a mix of compassion and concern. She knows this is incredibly tough for you to hear, but she also seems to have her own worries about the situation.

“I don’t know Y/N,” she says quietly, her hands twisting in her lap. “It was just… so not him. I don’t know what the hell happened. But I’ve never seen him act like that before. It’s like he was a different person.”

Her voice trails off, leaving the two of you in silence as you’re both lost in thought.

Eventually, Lizzy breaks the silence, her voice sympathetic as she places a hand on top of yours.

“How about this, you rest up today, and when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the cabin to get some answers from Ford? Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside of you.

“Alright,” you murmur. “I’m still feeling pretty rough, but I’d like to see him… tonight, if possible.”

Despite your confusion and worry, you know that facing your husband and talking with him is the only way to get answers. The answers that you crave so desperately in hopes that it’ll mend your breaking heart - and marriage.

Lizzy gives you a reassuring nod.

“Of course,” she says gently. “You rest up, and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”

She stands up, gently readjusting the cloth on your head.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod, laying yourself back down.

You’re going to need it to cross the bridge that awaits you tonight.

READER AND BILL INTERACTION WOOP WOOP!! Also I’m not gonna lie, I feel like I messed up the timeline a little bit but I’m just gonna go for it. Thank you for reading! :)

Tag List: @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum @violetvsworld @inquiit @catr4dora

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

When the ‘03 Turtles are in love!

🐢💙❤️2003 TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 889

CW: Gender-neutral reader as always, referred to as ‘you’, my underrated beloveds ong, (especially Donnie 💜), nothing but fluff! Turtles realizing they’re in love with you and how they act around you!! (+ confessions because yes <3)

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 With Leo, it takes him a good while to realize he’s in love with you. It just randomly hits him when he’s meditating, the comfort you bring, the way he can lean on you, the way he’s always seemingly drawn to you! It hits him like a bus.

💙 He gets a little shy and distant with you, but don’t give up! Continue coming to him and acting like yourself, he’ll feel a bit guilty for avoiding you, but you still coming to him makes his heart flips and he’s feeling those butterflies.

💙 That’s when Leo can’t take it anymore and finally confides in Master Splinter, (which we both know that man knows when his sons are in love). Splinter is pleasantly surprised! But he’s happy to help his son sort out his feelings and even devise ways to confess to you.

💙 Finally, Leo works up the courage and asks you to go to the training dojo with him alone, to train. You two do train and by the end of it, Leo finally spills it, confessing his love to you, but also expressing his understanding if you didn’t feel the same.

💙 Pleasantly surprised when you admit to feeling the same way! Man is fist-pumping the air mentally when you confess. After that, you two spent more time together in the dojo, just talking things out and making it official with a hug, (a kiss will come later, Leo’s not ready to make that quick of a step!)

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ With this emotional turtle, Raph is quick to realize, unlike his brothers, and at first; he’s frustrated. He didn’t NEED feelings, especially not towards a family friend, a human… A very beautiful human at that—

❤️ Okay, he gives up and comes to terms with the fact, Raph, the tough guy with anger issues, has soft feelings for YOU. (Bro went through the 5 stages of grief because of this/j)

❤️ And after coming to that conclusion, man is always trying to impress you, he gets closer to you, wants you to depend on him because he wants to be that someone for you! It strokes his ego quite a bit too.

❤️ It’s when he finally realizes he wants to be with you he shoots his shot. What’s the worst they could say? No? So, one night when you join him on patrol and you two are chilling on a roof, he finally confesses. And he’s straight to the point like, “Look uh, this is gonna sound weird, but I have feelings for you.”

❤️ Dude is so hyped when you say you feel the same way too. Raph isn’t the type to wait around either like Leo, on that rooftop was where you two shared (his) your first kiss.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 When Donnie realizes, he panics a little actually. YOU are his best friend, and he’s completely shocked when he realizes that his heart thunders in his chest and his palms get sweaty when YOU are around, (*slow fade-in of the demi-romantic flag*).

💜 He tries to shut down these feelings as best as he can by working on his technology more and being distant with everyone, and I mean EVERYONE.

💜 Even then he can’t stay away for too long, he’s back to ranting and rambling about his inventions to you, and his breath hitches whenever you smile at and tell him, “Go on”, whenever he pauses and apologizes for rambling again.

💜 Donnie has to tell you, if he gets rejected now, hopefully these feelings will go away, right? He didn’t even consider the fact that you could possibly like him back, according to his statistics, the likelihood of a mutant and a human together is low!

💜 Well, when he sat you down for a serious conversation, going on to admit his feelings and saying he wouldn’t be hurt if you said no— Wait what? You were quick to interrupt him and tell him you liked him back?? He had to process a moment before he would shyly ask if you wanted to go for a small ride in the Battle Shell around town. (You two held hands while he drove. <3)

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 Woof, Mikey on the other hand is a bit of a wild card, at first he confuses platonic with romance, but when his brothers point out to him the obvious, he’s all for it!

🧡 Mikey is the type to start reading comics and watch movies that involve romance so he has an idea of what to do, (and yes, he kicks his feet all giddy-like when he’s doing this).

🧡 After he’s obtained his knowledge, he’s quick to try and impress you and reenact some moments from the movies he’s watched, always saying quotes you probably wouldn’t understand. And when you don’t get it at first, thinking he’s just being Mikey, he’s a little bummed…

🧡 Then Raph has to point it out to him why his advances aren’t working, because he’s not really acting any different, and just tells Mikey to grow a pair and to tell you honestly. And that’s when Mikey’s new plan is sent into action, operation confession is a go!

🧡 Still a little confusing because he’s still making references but he’s got the spirit. Eventually he ends up forgetting the movie references and out-right tells you. And it’s safe to say, you guys have a roof-top date coming up here soon.

Gaaah, I’ve been obsessing over TMNT good lord. I wanted to write about them, and I’ll probably write more about them too 😭💙 Love turtle pookies ong, hope you enjoyed, and yes I posted the same day, I am motivated to write. ✍️

[byoldervine]

Why No Writing Advice Seems To Work

There’s millions of tips out there for writers, but so much of it just doesn’t apply, and it often feels like nothing ever works because you have to wade through a million failures before you find a success. But why is that, exactly?

1. Implicit phasing. Seeking advice while in the drafting phase of your writing can be difficult when many popular tips are more important during the editing phase. It can build on perfectionism struggles that a lot of writers have, but a lot of people genuinely don’t realise that this advice will suit them better for editing rather than drafting. If it’s about improving what you’ve already got, or just improvements in general, don’t touch it until you’re editing; you can’t improve on something that doesn’t exist, so you’ll just be going over the same draft a gazillion times without making progress. What you need to look for are tips for brainstorming, getting out of a funk, etc

2. Concept to blueprint. For me, literal thinking has kept me from understanding a lot of writing advice and, even when I’ve got the gist of it, I struggle to figure out how to take it from a general phrase (e.g. “Show don’t tell”, “Make it a habit”) to something actionable that tells me what I need to do. If you’re misunderstanding what the advice is saying, or you don’t know what actions it’s implying that you take, of course it’s not going to be helpful. Sitting down and dedicating a minute or two to considering it can really help, and if you’re still unsure then always feel free to ask other writers; there’s bound to be others who were in the same boat that can share their own interpretations and the actions they took that helped them

3. Hobbyist approach. If you’re only writing for fun, and especially if you don’t consider yourself a ‘real writer’, it’s easy to think that some of the advice doesn’t apply to you. For me, I always thought that the whole “Write every day, make writing a habit” thing was just for people who were super serious about it or on a schedule, not for people who were just writing for fun and didn’t mind it taking forever. But after trying out NaNoWriMo, I realised I actually quite enjoy having a set routine that allows me to see consistent improvement, and even after NaNoWriMo I experimented to see how often I could write without it feeling more like a chore than a fun activity. It’s definitely worth it to at least try out tips that you think may not apply to a hobbyist just working for fun; sometimes you might learn something else about your writing style, even if the tip doesn’t work for you

4. Unique takes. Ultimately, we’re all different people with different experiences, habits, interests, styles, physical abilities and neurotypes; not everything will work for everyone. And that’s a good thing! Yes, it’s frustrating when we try a popular tip and it just doesn’t work for us like it does others, but that’s one more thing we know about ourselves and how we work, and maybe it’ll lead us to a new discovery that makes it easier going forward. If everyone was the same, all our writing would be the same, and that would be boring. You’ll stand out as a writer by working differently to achieve unique results. And if you find something that works for you, make sure you share it in case others benefit, too!

5. Customise. Finding your own tips and sharing them can lead others to you, and it all starts with experimentation; try new things, mix and match existing tips you’ve tried and figure out what can be adjusted to make your writing process better. I can’t keep to NaNoWriMo’s 1667 words per day demands, it’s too much work in too little time, but I can do 1000 words every week and be much more consistent than I used to be. Or maybe watching your word count all the time demotivates you? Try changing your measurement from X words to writing for Y amount of time - or you could even try both and say you’ll write for a max of Y minutes unless you can reach X amount of words beforehand. Even if it’s not something that was originally intended by the tip, can you find a way to customise it to work better for you?

[moonstruckme]

I am clean from sh for about 6 months now (yay me) and lately, idk why, I’ve just kinda been struggling with accepting my scars and the fact that I’ll have them probably forever and your writing is really comforting and actually helps, so I wanted to ask if u could maybe write something with Spencer helping reader feel ok with having them on reader‘s thighs?

totally understand that that’s a touchy topic and if u don’t wanna write it, I also completely get it, thanks anyway for even reading this xxx

Ahh yay you!!! Congrats baby, and thank you for requesting <3

cw: past self harm, some nudity that's really not sexual but they joke about it a bit

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re sweltering. D.C. doesn’t usually get very warm, but for the last week you’ve been on a streak of record-breaking temperatures that’s made your clothes stick to your skin and has caused even your perpetually chilled boyfriend to refrain from putting on his cardigan until he gets inside his work each morning. Just walking between your car and various air conditioned buildings is enough to make you consider moving to the Arctic. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping inelegantly down on the bed to peel your jeans off. “Can we turn the A/C down to sixty, please?” 

“Let’s start with seventy,” Spencer negotiates. You hear his footsteps stop halfway down the hall as he adjusts the monitor. “I think we still have some lemonade left, if you want some.”

“Ugh, yes.” You tear your jeans off your ankles with enough force to nearly send them flying across the room and sigh blissfully as the A/C kicks on. 

You change out of your sweaty shirt too, going for your pajamas despite it being hours from darkness falling. You have no plans to go out into that hellscape again until tomorrow. You hesitate over a pair of pajama shorts before slipping on loose pants instead, not quite as cool but still light enough to allow some air flow. 

“I love you,” you tell Spencer when he passes you your lemonade as you come into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch. Ice clinks inside your glass, which is already forming little beads of condensation. You have the urge to rub it on your face. “I mean, unconditionally, but especially right now.” 

“I’ll take it,” he jokes back, tilting his head back so his face is in the path of the A/C vent. When he looks up, he finds you pinching up the fabric of your pants around your knees, trying to create a pathway for the air to move up your legs. “Why are you wearing those?”

You know what he’s asking you, and you intentionally misunderstand. “I felt like it was pajama time. No way am I going outside again today.” 

“Right, but aren’t you warm?” Spencer tilts his head. He looks like a particularly cunning puppy, brown eyes soft and inquisitive.

“A little,” you admit. 

“Then why not wear something shorter?” 

“That’s awfully forward of you.” You do your best to give him a smile. It doesn’t stick around long in the face of your boyfriend’s serious expression, increasingly worried. “Maybe I don’t feel like parading my legs around for you.” 

You can see the cogs turning in Spencer’s brain, and the usually fascinating process is suddenly almost painful to watch. You know he’s thinking of what you refusing to wear shorts used to mean, how nobody ever thought anything of it because, again, D.C. doesn’t tend to get very warm. How evasive you were about it then, too. An uncomfortable weight settles in your stomach. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want them out?” he asks, and his voice is gentle but his gaze is unflinching. 

You try to hold it as you shake your head. “I’m still clean.” The words seem to take more air than they should. Your guilt and embarrassment are enough to choke on. “I promise.” 

Spencer nods. “I believe you.” 

His eyes don’t so much as twitch down to your covered thighs. Relief like a cool breeze passes through you. It’s no small thing, his trust in you. Not after you’d gone so far out of your way to hide the evidence of your hurt from him before. 

“But it’s still related to that, isn’t it?” He lifts his glass, taking a sip before wiping the corner of his mouth. You almost smile, picturing your boyfriend in an interrogation room asking questions with this same gentle tone and wide open, curious expression. You don’t think Spencer could ever be harsh. 

“Yeah,” you say. What felt like something private and humiliating a minute before you suddenly want to share with him. Spencer tends to have that effect on you; he makes divulging your most gut-twisting secrets feel natural and easy. “My scars just haven’t gone away. I don’t really want to see them.” 

Spencer’s mouth pinches. “You know they won’t ever fully go away, right?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh, but it doesn’t feel like letting anything out. “I know.” 

“They will probably fade, though.” His fingers circle your ankle loosely, calluses skimming softly over your achilles tendon. “Is it that you don’t want to see them, or you don’t want me to?” 

You rub your lips together. Shrug. “Both, I guess.” 

He tilts his head. Like your answer is expected, but nonetheless perplexing. “I don’t care if I see them,” he says. His hand coasts up your leg, over the fabric of your pants, until he grasps it by your knee. “Can I?” 

You nod. You know he’d let it go if you said no, but it’s not worth begrudging him. “Sure.” 

Spencer brings both hands to the fabric at your hips, and you lift your bum up off the couch as he pulls downwards. Your legs are happy to breathe, the cool air coming out of the vent even nicer than you’d thought it would be. Spencer keeps going until your pajama pants are balled up underneath your feet. 

“You really were hot,” he says. It’s neither teasing nor gloating, a simple statement of fact. His fingers come to rest at your ankle again, and it’s the only kind of warmth you’ll allow. “Is it actually worth it?” 

You look down at your thighs. Your skin feels better than it had covered up, but it’s also a physical reminder of things you’d rather forget. “I don’t know,” you reply. 

“I understand why you don’t like them,” Spencer says. When you look up, you expect him to be as stuck on your scars as you are, but he’s looking at your face. His stare is calm and unmoving, like they don’t command his attention the way they do yours. “But I think they may be with you for a while. It might help to start trying to get used to them.” 

You blow out a breath. “I want to.” 

“I know,” he says. Easily, the way he’d said I believe you. And you think that he probably does know. Spencer has things from his past he can’t fully leave behind, too. 

His forefinger moves slowly up and down the back of your ankle, an absentminded gesture for him and a comfort for you. Slowly, his eyes dip down to your legs. You fight the urge to squirm and hide. 

“You know,” he muses, “there’s actually one thing I sort of like about seeing them.” 

Your top lip starts to curl automatically, your brows pulling together. “What?” 

“Just, that they’re old.” Spencer seems not to have noticed your reaction. His gaze is contemplative. “I mean, it’s not that I’m looking for them all the time or anything, but it’s nice to see them and know there aren’t going to be any new ones. These ones will fade, and then that will be it.” 

Something new clogs your throat. It’s just as heavy as before, but far kinder. 

Spencer looks up at you. He looks sheepish, the corner of his mouth uptilted self-consciously. “Sorry, it’s a weird line of thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m always checking on them.”

“No,” you swallow, “I get it. That’s nice, Spence.” 

He shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 

You could almost laugh. He makes things so simple. “I’ll change into shorts.” 

“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’re already cooling off.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You keep your voice light, grinning at him as you shuffle over to straddle his lap. His fingers brush over a couple of the lines on your thigh as he brings them around your back, and the sensation doesn’t make you feel as shuddery as usual. You hug him with your arms around his neck. “You’re cool with me just staying like this then? No pants?” 

“Not if you don’t want to wear them,” he says agreeably. 

You laugh and hug him harder. “Thanks,” you tell him sincerely. 

Spencer only makes a soft dismissive sound as he hugs you back. 

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ oh ver, my dearest ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹

ft. ver vermillion x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ since it’s your first time, he promises to be gentle┊1.9k words

contains: smut!! dom ver & sub reader┊established relationship, mentions of ver fantasizing, mentions of masturbation (both ver & the reader), first time together & reader’s virginity loss, nipple play, fingering & receiving oral, gentle unprotected sex, slight corruption kink, some praise & body worship, pulling out, pet names (baby) & true love, it’s so fluffy, mentions aftercare

➤ author's note: good god this took way too long and i had to fight the urge for ver to call the reader ‘babygirl’ for the memes because it would ruin the mood

ver vermillion is your high school sweetheart who’s also your first in everything romantic: your first serious crush, your first date, your first relationship, and your first kiss. he’s your first love, like a prince charming from the movies you watched when you were little. he’s the man you can see yourself settling down with and marrying even though you previously never thought your relationship with the busy student council president would last this long. and, of course, he feels the same way! you’re the apple of his eye and he adores you more than anything, just waiting to stabilize your young adult lives before officially tying the knot. everything in your relationship is perfect with healthy communication about wants and needs resulting in little to no fights!

except there is one thing that he keeps secret from you, that being his physical desires. he doesn’t want to rush you when you aren’t ready or make you ill at ease about something that should be pleasurable so he keeps his pent-up frustrations to himself, making use of his fist and his seemingly infinite list of dirty thoughts regarding you that he has tucked away in his mind. unfortunately, it leaves him feeling somewhat hollow on the inside once he finally reaches for some tissues to clean up after himself. doing it alone relieves the tension at the moment, but it leaves him longing for you even more. despite these shortcomings, it solidifies his resolve even more. he is, of course, a gentleman above all things. your comfort and happiness come above everything, reminding him that your first time together will be even more special when it happens.

the importance he’s placed on this moment makes it feel like a wet dream when it actually happens, not quite the first make-out session you ever had but indeed the first time he’s had you under him like this with dim lighting to help set the mood. you smell like his cologne in his oversized hoodie, notes of vanilla and bulgarian rose mixed with the scent of your shampoo that clung to your damp hair. he ran his fingers through your locks to pull your face closer to his, deepening the kiss and pulling soft moans from you in the process as you hooked your arms around his neck. he was so close to you, bodies pressed up right against each other and making you feel feverish from the inside from want and knowing that you were being wanted.

his hands began to explore your body, reaching under your clothing to trace the outline of your hips to your upper thighs. a slight whine from you made him pull back to check in on you, “is this okay? do you want me to stop?”

“n-no, please, ver… i want…” you were so ethereal and fuckable in that moment that he felt himself twitch in his pants just by looking at your pretty face, lips slightly puffy and pupils dilated with lust. he always finds you beautiful, but something about how innocent you looked with all of your cute tantalizing sounds as you squirmed from his touch had him feeling restless. “i want you."

ver’s heart fluttered and he placed one last chaste kiss before resting his forehead on yours, “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you. i promise to be gentle.” he’ll strive to practice constraint to make sure that your first time will be remembered as romantic and intimate, a step forward together to further strengthen your bond. in time when you’re more comfortable though… he’s going to straight-up ruin you— turn you into his lovely little cock-slut who’ll beg for him so sweetly… but he’s getting ahead of himself.

he’s never seen you so exposed like this, his eyes practically glued to your chest and mesmerized by what the lamplight allowed him to see. whenever he almost catches even a glimpse of you, you would hide away calling him a pervert, but you can now see that you were right even if you were joking. ver was always a boobs guy, you suppose, bringing up his hands to cup your soft breasts just marveling at their size and shape that wasn’t hidden away by a bra.

“don’t stare…” you muttered, “it’s embarrassing.”

ver simply hummed in response, slowly raising your hoodie to remove it from your upper body and leaving you in nothing but your underwear. he turned his focus back on your tits, taking one nipple between his index and thumb before following his instinct to move his mouth to suck on the other. it’s such a foreign sensation since you tend to neglect your bust when experimenting with yourself, but you now realize how sensitive they actually are as you begin to whimper from the feeling. you’re usually so quiet because you were self-conscious about how loud you could get when excited, but oh, you sounded like a song with every moan that rewarded him for his actions as he popped his lips off one hardened nub to give attention to the other.

as nice as it was, you desperately craved more stimulation to soothe the aching heat blooming in your core— not even realizing that you were beginning to subconsciously not-so-subtly grind on your boyfriend’s thigh in an attempt to chase more of the pleasure building.

needless to say, this didn’t get past his observant eyes and made him chuckle, “be patient, i’ll give you everything you want in just a moment.”

“please…” you whispered, voice strained with need, “don’t tease me…”

his index trailed from the valley of your chest to the line down your belly before hooking into the elastic of your panties, pulling them along your legs until you were fully naked on the sheets. even with your lack of clothing, you still felt hot with desire. sensing your unease about being the only one nude, he took the time to strip himself of his baggy t-shirt to put himself on display to you as well— he really is handsome with his tousled red-black hair and unblemished fair skin.

you felt his breath ghost over your heat as he positioned himself between your legs, making you realize just how wet you were even though he hadn’t even touched you there yet. while your eyes were shut tight, his remained open to fixate on your face and expressions while licking long stripes along your slit to your clit. his hands snaked around your thighs to keep you still and prevent them from twitching so much, yet your hands were a different story and reached out to grab onto the sheets under you that were becoming increasingly more disheveled.

ver wrapped his lips around your delicate pearl and gently took it into his mouth, sneaking his slender fingers to press into your hole. it doesn’t quite hurt, but it’s certainly new and had you gasping as he slid a second one in with ease. a mix of your arousal with his saliva was dripping down his chin as he began to move his digits in a scissor-like motion to stretch you out.

“you taste so good,” he smiled against your cunt, his words adding vibrations right through your core, “such a pretty pussy to match your pretty face.”

your airy moans were soon replaced with outright cries of pleasure, your toes curling at the feeling of ecstasy shooting up your spine. unadmittedly, you’ve never made it this far on your own since it always got too intense for you to continue, but thanks to your loving boyfriend, you got the taste your your first orgasm— making you choke and see stars as you drenched his fingers and mouth.

he moved away (high-key feeling proud of himself) after knowing that he prepped you enough to take his rock-hard cock, looking at up him with pleading eyes as he whipped off his mouth with his forearm— not daring to look at the bulge that formed a prominent tent and just meeting his eyes instead. he pulled himself from his sweats and pumped his erection a few times, muttering words that were just out of earshot.

“are you ready, baby?” his voice was somewhat strained with want and trying his very best not to fuck you like a feral animal right now, focusing on your comfort.

the tip of his cock prodding at your virgin entrance made you feel nervous at first, but ver’s kisses all over your face made you feel more at ease and you nodded firmly to indicate that you were ready for him. he took his time to ease himself into you with a desperate sigh, allowing you to feel every inch of him while he came back down to your level to press kisses all over your face.

he wasn’t too big to the point where you thought he would split you open, but it was certainly enough that he had to give you a minute to get used to his size. your lower half was buzzing with pleasure, his cock brushing up against all the right spots in your throbbing cunt that you didn’t even know existed.

once you felt well-adjusted, you let out a shaky breath, “you can move now… p-please… keep going…” you were so shy with the back of your hand covering your mouth as you said it, but ver was about to gladly indulge the two of you with your permission.

“ahh, fuck, you’re so tight…” his pace wasn’t too fast, mainly because he was fixated on where the two of you were connected, unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy greedily sucking him in and making it difficult for him to pull out and push in. “shit, you’re so fucking beautiful, doing soo good for me..,”

all embarrassment of being too loud dissolved once he penetrated you, beginning to freely moan with the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the walls. he knows it keeps on crossing his mind, but god, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting— seeing you so vulnerable under him and trusting in him for him first had him suddenly feeling full of love just as he felt many times throughout the years of being your lover.

he reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours as he continued to press into you, his pace gradually becoming more sloppy with every move of his hips. the now familiar feeling of a knot tightening in your stomach was signaling your second orgasm, clamping onto his hands until it snapped. he soon followed suit after feeling you contract and spasm around him, doing a few more thrusts before pulling out and spilling his seed onto your torso.

while he could have gone for a few more rounds personally, he knew that you were spent and absolutely exhausted. he proceeded to put on his now-soiled sweatpants properly and gave you another open-mouthed kiss, wiping off the bit of drool trickling out your mouth with his thumb. “let me run a bath for you, okay baby? i’ll wash the sheets and you can sleep afterward, does that sound good?”

you nodded weakly and gratefully accepted the bottle of water he handed to you after opening the cap, watching his retreating figure head into the bathroom to fill it with warm water and probably some bath salts as well.

yep, this was definitely the man you wanted to marry.

[vaguely-concerned]

Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)

The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)

The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.)  This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that. 

(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)   

The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them. 

I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly. 

And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much. 

I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.) 

Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.

[emmyrosee]

okay so, this evening has not been fun for me, so ofc I’m gonna try coping via escapism 🤩

and as always you are absolutely NOT obligated to write it. I’m so serious, if you don’t want to there’s absolutely zero pressure emmy, I’d completely understand one hundred percent.

very long story short, I got my grades back for this semester and despite doing soooo much better overall this year than my first year and not failing a single class this time around, unless I get a miracle it’s looking like I’m going to have to be asked to withdraw from my university for a whole year ☹️

and as someone who got straight As from elementary til my last year of high school/made school my whole life, this is just an enormous blow to any self confidence I had finally built back up. I was doing better mentally and finally feeling a bit like myself again and I’ve just felt so sick with anxiety all evening because I don’t even know what to do anymore. If they decide to ask me to leave, it’ll make my chances of medical school even slimmer than they already were and I can’t help but feel like a bit of a failure and like I’ve just ruined my future despite knowing it’s not all true and I still have options :(

it’s so hyper specific and I’m so so so sorry abt that, but would it be possible for some comfort + tons of fluff with kuroo possibly? I just want to be babied a bit by this fictional man LOL. I feel like he’d know exactly what to do and how to get my mind off of it until I inevitably get that email :(

anon <3

My love, I am so sorry you’re having to go through this, and I am here, to PERSONALLY, tell you that you are far from a failure, and you should still be proud of yourself for getting so far. It’s okay to have bumps like this that halt your dreams, and it doesn’t make you any less deserving of continuing to chase those dreams. And hey! Use me as an example! I went from being a mechanic for four years and being fired for being so terrible (yes that is an actual thing that happened) then I went to college for writing; and now I’m a licensed esthetician with a focus in makeup artistry! There is no such thing as a dead end, no such thing as a closed room, just keep treating yourself gently and reminding yourself that this is far from over, your dream is still more than obtainable with some time and it is more than okay.

Ahem. Let me get off my soapbox PFFFF-

——-

Last night, you refreshed your emails who knows how many times, staring at your computer screen on the verge of hyperventilating for what felt like hours- and it might have been; your brain can’t process how long it was right now.

Your bottom lip was tight between your teeth, the hand on the mouse pad trembling, waiting in anticipation, tight with nerves. Your other rested a fist on your lap, waiting for the results and occasionally wiping a rogue tear that falls.

There’s a soft rapping on the door, but you don’t turn to face it. You merely keep refreshing.

“Hey,” tetsuro whispers, and you hear his feet padding into the room, and when he gets next to you, he crouches down. Once again, you can’t spare him a glance. “Any updates?”

You stay silent. He winces, “I’ll take that at a no…” he lays a warm hand on your back and gently rubs it in circles, “it’s okay baby. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

“Tetsuro, please,” you whimper, not quite in the mood for a pep talk. “I’m going to puke right now, my life is in flames and crumbling around me, I’m so nervous, please. Save the pep talk, I can’t handle it right now.”

“I'm sorry,” he soothes. He doesn’t say anything further, just rubbing your back in slow, firm circles with his palm, blinking his golden eyes up at you warmly, lovingly.

You feel your body cramp from being under his loving touch, suddenly dawning on you just how long you've been sitting in the chair, inert and unwilling to peel your eyes from the email inbox. You suddenly become hyperaware of how your legs feel numb, your fingers are cramped and your eyes are burning. It's the first time in hours you've taken a break from your refreshing to scrub at your eyes, breeding a wetness to try and soothe the sting.

You hear Tetsuro sigh, "why... don't we go to bed, angel?"

"No."

"But-"

"I can't," you whimper. "Not now. Not yet-" your breathing picks up as you look at him in despair, chest fluttering and heart pounding as you try to breathe. He furrows his brows and shushes you softly, big hands moving to cradle your cheeks and force you to look at him.

"Baby," he says softly, but firm enough to ground you. "It's late. They're not going to send it this late at night. And if they do, we'll deal with it when we wake up tomorrow. But I'm almost certain they're not going to send it to you this late. I promise, okay?"

You let out a shaky sigh and look at the time: 22:43. It's far too late to be thinking, to be worrying, and you'd much rather breakdown in the comfort of your own bed, than alone in this wooden chair.

But you do know that, no matter what, Tetsuro is going to be right next to you, rubbing your back and cradling you close.

When you say nothing, Tetsuro slowly stands up and scoops you in his big, strong arms, "come on, angel face. Let's get some rest." You thunk your head against his chest and fist your fingers into the collar of his shirt, letting him carry you to the bathroom where he plops you down on the countertop.

He grabs your toothbrush and some toothpaste, and gently tells you to open, which you sleepily do. He's extra careful, making sure to get every tooth he can, scrubbing softly as to not make you uncomfortable. Silence, save for the bristles on the toothbrush, fills the room, the corner of Tetsuro's tongue sticking out in focus.

"Okay. Spit," he says, moving so you can comfortably turn your head and spit the froth out. Skincare comes next, and his touch is even softer as he massages in every product you use.

"Good girl," he whispers, picking you back up to carry you to bed. "My good girl. Good, brave girl..."

You drift off in his arms at his praise, not even feeling the way he gets you into pajamas or gets you under the covers, the exhaustion of the constant high of anxiety weighing you down.

Waking up this morning, your bones feel like bricks under the wall of your muscles, barely able to move under the force of it all. Your skin feels like paper, so hyper aware of it now that you’ve had the time to come down from your anxious state. You blink up at your ceiling, eyelids tight as you do, and you continue to stare and let your body wake up molecule by molecule, inch by inch. You feel it coming to life, and you slowly bring your hands up to press the heels of your palms into your eyesockets to force the rest of the sleep out of your eyes.

When your hand then drops next to you, you feel yourself grow saddened at the lack of warmth. Tetsuro’s been out of bed long enough to let his side cool down, and it makes you want to cry at the idea of being alone right now.

You never should’ve shut him down last night. All he wanted to do was help, and you shut him up and made him feel bad, now he’s not even in bed with you anymore, and you feel tears sting at your eyes again, this time out of anxiety of making him upset, and-

“Ah, you’re up.”

Your guilty, howling mind shuts up as soon as tetsuro’s body makes its way into the doorway, smiling and stirring his tea with a spoon. “Good morning, babygirl.” He takes a step into the bedroom and before you know it, he’s at your side, sitting on the bed next to you. He uses his free arm to wrap around you, but not pull you to his chest. “Did you sleep okay?”

“No,” you whimper, voice croaky. He nods and lets his thumb rub up and down the curve of your shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you last night.”

His brow cocks in confusion, “huh?”

Now, finally, you turn to face him, “I snapped at you… I told you to-“

“You told me you didn’t want a pep talk,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s okay. You’re allowed to tell me that my words might not be the most helpful. I’m not going to get mad at you for that. It’s not like you told me to shut my ugly ass up- you’d never do that, I’m too pretty.”

This, for the first time in what feels like days, has you crack a smile. You let out a small laugh, breathy and barely there, but he smiles proudly all the same, pulling you in for a hug now. “You’re a goof,” you murmur.

“And you, need to eat something,” he whispers against your head, and you deflate in his arms again. “Don’t you protest me, you know you have to eat something.”

“‘M not hungry,” you say.

“I know, but you didn’t eat last night, and I let you sleep in-“ at his words, your eyes flick to the clock on your nightstand, red numbers flicked onto 10:24. “You have to have something.”

“But-“

“I know,” he says. “Do you want something sweet, or savory?”

20 questions. It’s something he does after a fit of your anxiety to try and make your life just a hair easier, decisions quicker, and your day just a bit brighter because you’re getting exactly what you want. He claims he used to do it with kenma, hence why he’s so good at it.

“Uhm…” you shrug, “why not both?”

“Both?” He echos. “Okay. Do you want fruit?” You nod. He nods with you. “Okay. How about a bagel?” You nod again. “Okay. With some cream cheese?” You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, “butter?” You shake your head again, “okay. Uhmmmm-“

“I want to do it,” you mumble, and he presses a kiss to your head.

“You sure? Because I can whip something up-“

“I have to do it. I have to put the toppings on my bagel.”

He nods a final time and squeezes you close, “okay. If you need any help deciding, I’m right here, okay? I’ll be cutting your fruit.”

You hum and slowly swing your legs out of the bed, stretching and mewling from the force. When your hand instinctively darts for your phone, he clicks his tongue, "leave it. You don't need it right now."

"But-"

"I told your family to text me if they need you. Your phone is on do not disturb. Leave it there, babe." He swings his own long legs over and extends a hand out to you, wiggling his fingers enticingly for you to hold. When you grab three of them, he smiles and slowly leads you into the kitchen.

The news is playing on tv at a low volume, there’s a discarded blanket on the couch, and you quirk a brow in intrigue, “tetsu, how did you know I was awake?”

He shrugs, “my life shifts when you wake up for the day. I feel it in my soul.”

“Ew.”

“Shaddup.”

You laugh again, smiling a weak smile as you plop down at the table. He makes his way to begin cooking your bagel, popping it in the toaster before making his way to cut up your fruit. You sigh and play with your fingers, wondering if you should make conversation, or let silence rule, and you sigh shakily before opening your mouth to speak. “What’re you going to have?”

“I, my love, already ate some toast with some apple jelly and butter.”

“Oh.”

“But I’m going to pick at some fruit with you, because I don’t want you eating alone.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“I know,” he hums. Then, he turns to face you with a smile. “I want to.”

Your heart flutters as you smile at him, looking down at your fingers to distract yourself. Usually, you’d be scrolling through your social media, checking apps and emails, but since he forbade it, you’re left to listen to him sing softly and the newscaster drone on and on. After a few short minutes, your bagel pops, and he plates it with some sliced fruit and places it in front of you, before kissing your head and grabbing various toppings for it.

Breakfast drags, but in a comforting way, where it drips by so slow like honey, syrupy sweet as Tetsuro talks. He talks about everything and anything, about the game Kenma's going to stream for charity, and the funny meme he sent the streamer- or funny to Tetsuro at least, as allegedly Kenma left him on read. You find yourself eating at his company, and before you know it, your bagel, juice, and fruit is gone. You look down at your plate in surprise, and he wiggles his brows at you, "feel better, angel?"

"Uhm... yeah," you say, almost confused. "I didn't think I was that hungry."

"I don't care how you thought, I'm glad you ate." He stands out of his chair with a stretch, "you still hungry? I can make you another-"

"No," you sigh. "I... I really should check my email-"

"Not until I give you a bath and a massage."

You quirk your brow, "you're going to give me a bath and a massage?"

"Of course," he chuckles, "If you're too anxious to give yourself some self care, that's plenty fine, but that means I'm going to give you self care." He shrugs, "those are just the rules."

"Do you even know how to give a massage?"

"Bokuto and I used to massage each other after practice all the time." Your brow quirks higher, and he holds his hand up, "don't ask. Just trust me."

"Can Bokuto give me a massage?" You tease, giggling at the way he gives you a fake smile and a high pitched "no," to tease you.

He presses a kiss to your head, "I'm going to go run the bath, why don't you get changed and meet me in there?"

"Okay," you hum. He nudges your nose with a finger before stalking down the hall to the bathroom. When your hear the tub running, you make a dash towards the small office room for your laptop, nervous to check your email, and-

"I took it out!" He calls, followed by a cackle.

"You're an ass!"

"It's your favorite ass, though!"

You grumble and make your way to the bedroom to get undressed per his request, stealing one of his oversized shirt to conceal yourself until the tub is filled. You stalk into the bathroom and blush under the way his eyes glaze up and down you, "fuck, I love you in my clothes."

"Back off, I'm about to bathe," you snort.

"Yeah, but I can still find you hot." As the tub fills, he adds a scoop of epsom salt, and a splash of bathing bubbles, large bubbles brewing on the surface of the water. You smile and watch them shape and form, the sweet smell filling the air around you. You feel excitement brewing inside of you as you watch him turn off the water and push himself up and off the floor with the edge of the tub, "should do it, baby. I'm gonna let you soak, I'll set up for a little massage after, make you nice and comfortable.

"Okay," you mewl. He presses a kiss to your lips and makes his way to the door. "Hey, Tetsu?" You say, reaching for his hand, which he takes happily. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, babygirl," he whispers. "You know that." He pinches your cheek and leaves the bathroom for you to relax.

The bath water is warm as you soak in the epsom salt, feeling your muscles loosen and relish in the combination. You bury your face in the bubbles and close your sleepy eyes, letting the smells lull you into a state of relaxation. Your head is still heavy with anxiety, but your heart is full of love and warmth for your boyfriend.

You're not sure how long you were floating in silence, lost in the bubbles and oils, but he gently knocks on the door, "you okay? Haven't heard you for a bit."

"Yes," you mewl, stretching. The water is now chilly and the bubbles are mostly gone and you rub your hands over the surface of the water. "Is the massage stuff ready?" You tease, looking at your hands and wincing at how pruny they are.

"It's been ready, I didn't want to bother you," he snickers. “Come out when you’re ready, just wanted to make sure you were alive.”

“I’m alive, I’m coming,” you call, getting out of the tub to dry yourself. You take your time drying off, trying to enjoy the last little bit of warmth clinging to your skin. You leave the bathroom to get dressed into some clean pajamas, smiling as tetsuro busies himself with the whole massage set up. “Candles? You spoil me.”

“There’s a lot of smells going on,” he says with a face.

“I know I can tell,” you hum. Getting dressed, you slip on a pair of his boxers and a shirt, and you make your way to the bed to wait for him.

“Alright-“ he pats the bed for you to crawl on top of. “C’mere, let me pamper you.”

You giggle, “you have been pampering me!” Regardless, you swing your legs onto the bed and lay on your stomach, squeaking as he straddles you and cracks his knuckles.

He lays a massive paw on each of your shoulders, using his thumb to splay and press the muscle under his force, and your eyes cross in the middle and flutter in relaxation. They work in circles to press into the muscles, before laying flat on your back to dig his heel into before his fingers press and roll back up to your shoulders.

Thick fingers roll over the knot in your right shoulder, no doubt from the refreshing of the page for hours on end last night. You whine and bury your face in the bed, and he hums, "I know beautiful, I almost got it."

"Feels good," you murmur.

"Told you it would," he says softly. “You need to trust me.”

“I think I trust you too much,” you snicker. Tetsuro says nothing, merely offering you a laugh through his nose as he continues with the massage.

Your body twitches as the tips of his fingers dig into your side as part of the massage, but your snicker doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “Something wrong?” He hums, doing it again.

"Tetsu!" You giggle, reaching behind you to try and stop his wrists, "that tickles!"

"That's crazy, I'm not tickling you," he snickers, and it's hard to tell if he's lying or not. "I mean, I can tickle you, if you want-"

"No!" You squeal, and your laughter turns choppy as he uses the sides of his hands to playfully chop up and down your back, making your body instinctively let out bumpy noises from your mouth.

“Quite an attitude on ya today,” he taunts, before hooking his fingers up under your arms, making you shriek, “okay, now I’m tickling you.”

Your mind spins from the sensory change, the signals in your brain cross, but one thing is for certain:

The email is far from the front of your mind.

And it feels good to laugh.

[4str0nuts]

DEEP DIVE INTO HORROPEDIAS AUTISTIC CODING : A GIANT ANALYSIS THING

ALTERNATE TITLE IS WHY THE FANDOM SHOULD CHECK OUT HOW THEY TREAT AUTISTIC CHARACTERS

Disclaimer before I go in; i’m using the global translations and the english voice acting as I am on the global server lol. This may affect some things but hopefully not a lot! Also i’m using this video [https://youtu.be/ygAkz4L2AMo?si=elrUeXGompMKYXUJ] for my proof and will provide timestamps!

Horropedia is one of the most loved characters in Reverse:1999 (bc haha funny autistic guy) , yet I literally see no serious posts discussing his character or even going into his character— even at a basic level. I’ve kinda been off to the side observing how the fandom treats Horropedia and it makes me question if people actually like him or some alternate version of him. Yeah sure this is a problem in every fandom but I’m too attached to Horropedia and i’m going to make it everyone’s problem.

There's all sorts of mischaracterisations of him where his autism is reduced to him being an “asshole” and “uncaring”, or that he is some funny reddit meme sona when that’s the case at all! Every other character gets to have serious posts yet when it comes to a very blatant autistic coded character, suddenly no one knows how to act despite the fact the fandom (going off of the twitter fandom here) prides itself on neurodivergency; so I’m here to dump a ton of analysis on Horropedia using ingame sources as proof as well as my own knowledge (as someone who is autistic myself), whilst also debunking mischaracterisations of him. I’m also doing this as I don’t think people treat Horropedias autistic coding seriously, seeing it as silly and thus ignoring all of his character.

Jumping straight in, Horropedia is not an asshole and is actually quite a caring character, even if he doesn’t show it conventionally. To me, it’s quite obvious that he cannot understand people at an emotional level, and always relies on his logical way of thinking no matter the situation; for example, when he broke Blonneys camera, he clearly does not understand why she is mad/upset and instead tries to comfort her logically rather than emotionally. Even when Blonney is very much showing she is mad, Horropedia cannot process that and cannot understand until she actually explains it [Part 5 54:07-57:20]. I can see why people may see it as an asshole move since he tells her to be “reasonable” over the camera breaking, though it is clear that this is another one of his autistic traits as people with autism have a hard time connecting with others’ in an empathetic way(which can come off as being blunt and uncaring) yet no one seems to mention that. Despite this, he still offers her to buy her a new camera once Blonney vents out to Jessica, coming to terms with what he did and making it up to her. [Part 12 2:10:37]

Adding onto the last point, Horropedia shows concern and care multiple times throughout the story. Even if he is bad at comforting people, he still tries to acknowledge what is wrong in regards to the situation. I’m trying to keep this short as I don’t necessarily think this is due to his autism but a cool detail I found with the English voice acting is that his tone gets softer when he’s more genuine (it could be seen as masking but shrug. Not too sure on this one as I'm making this point to show he does care in his own way.) He constantly makes sure everyone is safe and goes out of his way to protect others [Part 4 51:08 , Part 6 1:16:18-1:16:39], which is a small detail I think people gloss over. It’s just nice seeing Horropedia care for others in his own way since I struggle with expressing affection / emotions like him.

Back to his way of thinking, it’s practically plastered everywhere that he thinks in a logical way and takes everything at face value no matter what, which is a trait associated with autism. At the very start of the very event, he even breaks down Vertins joke and still a conclusion was that she wasn’t the person he was looking for (knowing full well she was) [Part 1 11:06-11:50]. Horropedia also explains things at face value— in a basic and straightforward way no matter what it is, which is another example of not truly understanding things at an emotional level! [Part 9 1:42:45-1:43:09]This does not mean he does not consider the consequences of a situation, and Horropedia actively avoids situations where it poses a threat / harm to others. Mentioning this to point out how some people in the fandom treat him like he is stupid?— Despite how he is the basic definition of a nerd with references to it all over his character and voice lines! Yes, he could be seen as careless considering he goes to Green Lake just like that with no approval, but he certainly isn’t oblivious to dangers around him. Horropedia himself explains that he is into horror movies because of how illogical they are(stating how it is like a puzzle), not necessarily the fear of them; so it makes no sense for Horropedia to directly put himself or others in harm's way.

Still relating to his way of thinking, Horropedia uses his horror logic so he can understand situations around him. He directly links back to his special interest to understand things— and to an extent others— better, special interests are a trait exclusive to autistic people! By using his horror special interest, he can understand the world better from his perspective. I don't even need to get examples of this because throughout the Green Lake event he makes references and links to horror movies, basing predictions on what to do in order to survive in the stereotypical like scene of Green Lake. Horropedia is full of reasoning, and despite his “debatable manners” (thanks Sonetto),he is not always too absurd with his predictions. It baffles me that people treat Horropedia like he is some happy-go-lucky kid, running head first into danger; he takes the time to understand a given situation in a way he would understand before doing anything.

Another really obvious thing is that he can’t understand social cues, or the body languages of others at all. Essentially he cannot read the room. The whole “I know the rules of social courtesy” [Part 12 2:19:19] line doesn’t necessarily mean he understands social cues— rules are (usually) based in logic and reasoning, and not emotions. Social courtesy just means the rules of society (or the foundation in this case? eh), and Horropedia knows he HAS to abide by the rules or else he will be in trouble. Something seen as ‘basic’ and ‘simple’ to people considered ‘normal’ by society may be hard to grasp by people who do not benefit from society (autistic people). Horropedia understands the ‘logical reasoning’ of how someone acts but he can’t connect with or understand someone else’s emotional responses. Literally look at most of his interactions with the film crew and Blonney, Jessica even steps in at one point to stop him from making the fight between Jason and Blonney worse [Part 6 1:11:38]; and even then he tries to use logic to break down the situation. Horropedia can’t pick up on social cues for the life of him, including body language and tone.

Smaller point here but I have a feeling Horropedia’s tone is hard to understand to some of the characters. Tooth Fairy couldn’t tell if Horropedia was joking towards the end of the event , where he shows off his “sense of humour”. Nothing much to add here I just found that really interesting…

Ive rinsed out all the notes I’ve taken on Horropedias autistic coding so far…….. feel free to add on more….. I may have gotten some things wrong because I have been working on this for a few hours straight. Surprisingly I still have more to analyse outside of his autism so if people are interested let me know bc i’m desperate .

TLDR: horropedia is autistic thanks for reading.

[mbappeslover]

écoute chérie // kylian mbappé | part one.

kylian mbappé x f! reader.

saw this edit on tiktok, they edited mbappé to écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer and… i fell in love. the song is sooo mbappé.

y/n got the job as kylian’s personal assistant. his previous assistant fired for unknown reasons. y/n had heard about kylian mbappé and his terrible attitude. she wasn’t excited to work with him. but, turns out.. he’s actually not that bad.

read part 2 here.

read the finale here.

credits to the editor: strkvoid on tiktok, they did such an amazing job <3, my favorite mbappé edit.

“y/n y/l/n, you’ve been accepted!” the notification pinged and appeared at the top of your screen. you clicked on it so fast.

one week ago.

“y/n, have you seen this? kylian mbappé’s management is looking for a new personal assistant.” your friend tells you during a phone call.

“oh really?” you ask.

“yes… and, you qualify for it! like a 100 percent. wait, i’m gonna send you the link.”

you received the message and clicked on the link, it was indeed an exclusive offer/application to becoming the footballer’s new personal assistant.

“y/n, you should really go for it. the pay is amazing and i’m sure it’ll be an awesome experience.”

you skim through the countless pages and listing of requirements and benefits the job offered. plus, you were indeed qualified for the job.

“mmm… i don’t know. everyone talks about how much of an asshole kylian mbappé is. how he’s a jackass with a shitty attitude and an unbearable ego, bigger than the universe.” you explain, iffy about this whole thing.

“oh please, it’s not like you’re gonna be all lovey dovey with the guy. imagine how much money you’ll be making. you want to quit your current job right now anyway.” your friend says, trying her hardest to convince you.

you laugh. “okay, you’re right. i’ll call you back, i’m gonna read through all the paper work, submit my résumé and update you on it.”

you weren’t too serious about it, you doubted that you’d actually get the job.

everything just got real. definitely serious.

you got the job, you were on call with the footballer’s management, and you were now getting familiarized with his schedule.

“alright, ms. y/l/n, we’ve spoken through all the things you’ll be needing to do for kylian. i’ve sent you an email of a file that lists all the things you must do for him. now, all we need is for you to sign a few things. it’ll take you about ten minutes. it wasn’t much before but… some things went down. so, we had to make a few arrangements.” kylian’s manager stated.

you just nod taking everything in and trying to process it at once.

you heard the ping from your phone, signaling you got the email.

“okay, perfect. today, i’ll show you around psg and tomorrow you’ll be meeting kylian.”

a tour guide took you around the stadium, briefly explaining different areas and rooms in the building to you.

it was a long day. you were now in bed, aimlessly scrolling on instagram because you couldn’t sleep.

you’re nervous. why?

the athlete you’ll be attending to is possibly the biggest asshole in paris, france and you’re gonna have to deal with it.

you decide to go on his instagram.

“k. mbappé, 94.1m Followers, 389 Following, 1204 posts.”

you click on the first photo presented and begin scrolling down.

in almost all photos he’s smiling, with a caption full of emojis and empowering words.

he looks so… sweet?

is this the same guy with the so-called “bad attitude?”

you fell asleep.

after scrolling through all one thousand, two hundred and four posts by kylian mbappé.

your alarm rang, loudly.

you groaned, getting up to prepare yourself for the day.

after getting dressed, you received a call from kylian’s manager.

“good mornin-“ you tried greeting politely, before cut off.

“good morning dear, i need you here in ten minutes.”

“it’s only 9:00, i was told to be there at 9:30. did something happen?” you ask, exasperated.

“yeah, well, kylian decided to come earlier than we thought and right now, he wants an organic green juice from le juice. it has to be from juicerie.” the manager explains.

“le juice is like fifteen minutes from where i am right now, how will i be able to make it in ten?” you say, slightly panicking.

“well, find a way. mbappé cares about his health, a lot. all that stuff about nutrition and good food is the key to health. if you didn’t know, now you do. be here in ten, please darling!” the managers says in a cheery voice before hanging up.

first day on the job and they were already trying to make the impossible, possible.

you quickly go on the website for le juice and order and paid online for a medium organic green juice for pick-up.

you catch a taxi and head over to le juice. it was a five minute drive because it was still a bit early and the streets hadn’t start to fill yet, luckily.

you ask the taxi driver if they could wait for a quick second while you grab the order from inside.

the taxi driver fussed a bit yet ultimately decided to wait.

again, you were able to swipe up the juice since the shop just opened and customer didn’t pile up in the juice bar.

you hop back in the taxi and make your way to the stadium.

“tsk, your first day on the job and you’re seven minutes late. you better hurry up and get in there.” the manager scolds you once you arrive, outside the office room of psg.

“well, you should’ve told me i would have to be here earlier, you cunt.”

you didn’t actually say that, you thought it, but, you didn’t say it.

you quickly enter the room, with a little a stumble, almost tripping on your own feet. you quickly laugh at how much of a mess you are.

the room is packed, there’s people everywhere, most likely other staff members. you see at the corner of the room, there’s a small crowd of people surrounding something.

you squeeze in between people, trying to find a way through.

“excuse me. yea, sorry. my apologies. let me just squeeze in. i’m sorry.” you murmur out while gliding through the people in the packed room.

that’s when you were faced with him.

he’s exactly like those photos on the internet, a vibrant face, smiling while the people around him asks him questions like how’s his morning, would he like anything to drink, trivial things to simply make conversation. 

the infamous kylian mbappé.

you cleared your throat, put on your most brightest smile and polite voice.

“mr. mbappé, this is your organic green juice.” you say, putting your hand out to give the drink.

the area becomes quiet as the attention shifts on you.

you briefly look around confused.

and the smile that was once on kylian’s face had disappeared.

it was replaced with a hard stoned, cold glare.

“the fuck?” you thought.

he grabs the drink from your hand, not even thanking you before continuing the small talk with staff around him.

you try your hardest not to make a face at his rude behavior.

you brush it off.

literally.

brushing yourself off, taking a deep breath. putting on a polite voice again, you introduce yourself.

“hello, my name is y/n. i’m sure your manager already told you about me, i am your new personal assistant. if you ever need me, for anything, feel free to let me know. that’s my job, of course.” adding in a little humor to lighten the atmosphere, reaching your hand out.

once again, the area of the room goes silent. his smile falls once again and he slowly turns to look at you.

“d'accord. où est ma paille?” (okay. where is my straw?)

the crowd laughs.

you reach out your bag, handing him the straw before walking away.

“the rumors are true. he’s insufferable. literally an asshole. a two-faced scum? who even treats someone like that? no wonder his old assistant left. who’d want to deal with that.” you were now on the phone with your friend who encouraged you to apply.

“y/n, calm down. i know it was frustrating, but, it’s just your first day. at least quit after you get your first check.” your friend said, trying to comfort you.

yea, that’s right. y/n cried. cried very hard. today was extremely difficult.

you followed kylian everywhere, attempting to tend to his needs, but, all he did was be rude or downright ignore you.

“sir, how are you feeling? would you like for me to schedule a massage for you, in case you are feeling tense?” you ask.

“do i look tense to you?”

“mr. mbappé, your manager has informed me that you have a meeting on friday at 3pm.”

“who makes meetings on friday? i’m not going, you’re going. i have to relax.”

“mr. mbappé-“

“please stop bothering me. aren’t you my assistant? why must you keep calling out my name, you’re here to handle my business.”

“i don’t even know what i did to him? why should i get treated like this? it makes no sense.” you complain to your friend.

“i’m sure it’ll get better eventually… hopefully.”

“yea, hopefully.”

it’s been two weeks, working as kylian mbappé’s personal assistant.

to say y/n felt drained would be an understatement.

fourteen endless days of talking to a brick, solid wall.

a brick, solid wall with snarky remarks and a stinky attitude.

“mr. mbappé, your driver is outside waiting for you. he has the specific refreshments you asked for.” y/n says.

“alright, walk me to the car.” he says.

y/n’s concerned because he usually just nods and walks to the car himself.

as the two makes their way to the car, kylian starts conversation.

“your name, y/n, right?”

this is weird.

so weird.

“yes, sir. y/n y/l/n.”

“alright y/n, can you cook?”

“yes, i can cook, why?” y/n questions.

“génial. je veux que tu cuisines pour moi. (great. i want you to cook for me).” kylian says nonchalantly.

y/n stops dead in her tracks as kylian continues to walk.

“so, now i have to cook for this man? really?

well, it is your job…

oh, shut up. i know that!

just saying…” you internally battle with yourself.

he turns around, “well are you coming? i don’t have all day and i’m starving.”

you snap out of it, speed-walking to catch up.

“why are you standing by the door?”

you were in your bosses house. well, it’s not out of the ordinary because you are his personal assistant.

however, this is a drastic jump from a few days ago, when he didn’t even want you near him.

“are you okay, mr. mbappé? it looks pretty bad. i can go get you some soothing gel!”

he hurt himself pretty badly while trying to perform a trick during practice.

“no! i’m fine. don’t touch me, move!”

he spat out, stumbling to get up by himself.

you back up in utter shock.

other staff runs up to offer him support as he limps away.

mbappé’s pov:

his new personal assistant stood at the door, looking like a lost puppy that was left for dead on a rainy night.

kylian knew he was being hard on her, harsh to her. but, he couldn’t let his guard down.

he refused to let history repeat itself.

“why are you standing by the door?” he asks.

y/n seemed to be lost in her thoughts when he said that because she snapped up and made her way into the house after taking off her tory burch sandals.

kylian observed the woman as she subtly looked around the place before making her way to the kitchen.

he couldn’t lie. she was beautiful. she could be on the cover of a makeup magazine because of how natural and pretty her features were.

he wishes he could see her smile. most of the time she wears a frown on her face, sometimes a pout that kylian finds endearing. he wouldn’t show that though. or.. say it, ever.

her hair looked so soft, her voice was so nice on the ear. she had a nice figure, ones of a dancer, delicate, light on the feet.

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she said. he loved her voice, utterly. like a bee, wanting to drown in honey. he wanted to drown in her voice, listen to it forever.

“call me kylian.”

for some reason, he finds himself wanting to get to know her. get closer to her.

y/n’s pov:

‘oh God, he’s staring.’ you think to yourself.

y/n has made her way to the kitchen after taking in the penthouse. it was so nice and luxurious. she wondered how much or how long she’d have to work before ever living in a place like this.

she began looking in the cabinets, taking out a few pots and pans before realizing her boss didn’t even tell her what he wanted to eat.

“mr. mbappé, what exactly would you like for me to cook.” y/n says, an attempt to ease the tension.

‘he’s still staring. what the hell is wrong with him?’

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she repeats.

he looks you straight in the eye.

“call me kylian.”

you two continue making eye contact, you thought you’d feel uncomfortable, but, it’s rather… nice? it feels nice. it’s the first he’s ever actually acknowledged you.

you break the eye contact, clearing your throat.

“alright, if you don’t have anything set in mind, i’ll just cook and try to make do with whatever you have here.” you say.

it’s been about 50 minutes and you’re finally done cooking. you made steak & farfalle pasta with creamy tomato sauce.

kylian went into his bedroom since you began cooking and hadn’t come out. but, you did hear faint music coming from his room.

you begin to plate his food nicely, setting it on the kitchen island with a glass cup of ice water.

luckily, you clean along the way while cooking so there wasn’t a mess. you were tired, you wanted to get home and unwind.

you walk up to his bedroom door, about to knock, when the door swings open.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” you say slightly surprised.

he doesn’t say anything.

but, you could care less. your attention shifts to the song being played in the background.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” you say excitingly, completely forgetting that you’re at work. technically.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he replies with a small chuckle.

‘did he just chuckle? with me? did kylian mbappé, my rude ass boss. chuckle… with me?’

you smile, looking at the small smile that adorned his face as he chuckled.

you won. you’re winning mbappé over.

mbappé’s pov:

he was in his room, sipping on some expensive red wine from a brewery that gifted him some.

he felt at peace, moments like these to himself. drinking something, listening to music, letting loose.

not only that, but, most likely, he could smell the aroma from the food his personal assistant, y/n was making for him.

its been a little while, he was gonna go check on the food.

his favorite song comes on.

“partir, venir, mourir, courir.”

what a lovely song. he sings to himself, along the chant before making his way to the door.

opening it, there she was.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” she says, obviously a little spooked.

he doesn’t care about that, though. the more he looked at her, the more time he spent around her, the harder it got to suppress his obvious attraction to the woman.

he visibly sees something click in her head as she moves from his sight to get a better hearing of what was being played.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” she says.

‘God, she’s so cute.’ he thinks to himself.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he says, trying to hold back the ‘awe’ he wants to say so bad.

she smiles.

kylian felt like his heart could explode.

without absolutely zero exaggeration, she has got to have an award for having the most beautiful smile in the universe.

that smile right there—convinced kylian that he would make it his mission to always see that smile as long as y/n’s around him.

y/n turns around, leading him to his meal.

his stomach grumbles as he lay eyes on the food. it looks delicious. better than any five star michelin restaurant he’s been to. would probably taste better as well.

he’s confused, though. there’s only one plate of food.

he turns to y/n.

“where’s your food?”

“oh, i only made food for you, sir-“

“kylian, call me kylian.”

“yes, i’m sorry, kylian.”

“i’m gonna wait here for you to finish your food so i can wash your plate, then i’ll be out your hair, if that’s fine with you, kylian.”

he knows he can’t just let her leave like that.

he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he thinks he knows what he wants.

“that’s fine. come sit down.” he says, pulling out the chair next to him.

y/n hesitantly makes her way and gets seated. kylian slides over the glass of ice water to her.

“no, it’s for you.” y/n explains.

“i know, but, just drink it. i have some wine in my room.”

“okay, do you want me to go get it and pour some out for you?” y/n says, about to make her way there when kylian gently pulls her down.

“no, no, it’s fine. relax.” he says.

kylian begins eating, almost scarfing the food down.

y/n takes a sip of the water while looking at him eat.

“is it good?” y/n asks.

he stops for a second, chewing and swallowing what’s in his mouth.

“very. best meal i’ve had in a long time, y/n. thank you.” he says with a genuine smile on his face.

y/n smiles back before bringing the glass cup up to her lips and drinking some more water.

“so, y/n, how old are you?” he says, finishing up his food.

“i turned 24 a few months ago.” y/n says.

“really? i turned 24 a few months ago as well.”

“i know that, you’re the star of france.” y/n says with a small smile on her face.

he smiles at her again.

y/n couldn’t take it.

‘this is awfully weird. why is he being so… nice. it was concerning.’ she thinks to herself.

silence takes over the room and the only sound being the fork hitting against the glass plate as kylian takes a bite of the pasta.

“kylian, why are you so mean to me?”

“y/n, i know i haven’t been the nicest to you…”

they say at the same time. they both laugh.

“you go first.” kylian offers to y/n.

“alright, i was asking. why are you so mean to me? did i do.. something.”

kylian sighs deeply, “no y/n, you did nothing wrong, but, a lot happened before that’s making me like that towards you. just know i don’t mean it.” he explain.

“well, what happened?”

“i’ll tell you later.” kylian says finishing the food.

y/n took the plate and glass cup, made her way to the sink and began washing the dishes.

y/n wondered, what was on his mind. what was he thinking about.

too deep in thought to not see her boss, kylian. staking right next to her, leaning on the countertop.

she finishes cleaning the plate and cup.

she turned to her left, her soul jumping out her chest.

“kylian! why are you always sneaking up on people.” y/n said, laughing off the remaining shock with a hand over her heart.

“sorry, sorry, i just like looking at you.” he laughs.

y/n laughs too.

“oh really?”

“OH? REALLY?” she says backtracking because it registered to y/n what he said.

“yes. you’re beautiful.” he says, stepping a teeny closer to the beautiful woman in front of him.

y/n blushes.

“the food was really good as well. i really wish you would’ve ate with me.” he says.

“i’m just your assistant. i don’t want to break any of your boundaries. i respect you.” y/n says.

“i respect you.” kylian replays it in his head.

he already had a slight crush on y/n, but, this was different.

he has a crush on y/n.

“wow, you’re making me feel like shit for treating you the way i did. i respect you, too. say, come over again tomorrow. if you make me something to eat again, i’ll tell you what happened.” he says with a smile on his face.

y/n remains silent. she was thinking.

‘is kylian mbappé flirting with me?’

there’s no way.

yes there is! look at the way he’s looking at you. he wants you!’ you weigh out to yourself.

kylian think it’s adorable. the way y/n constantly looks like a lost puppy.

he bends down a bit, leveling himself to y/n’s height to get her attention.

“everything alright in there?” kylian says.

y/n seems to still be in deep thought when kylian giggles.

he takes his index finger, placing it underneath y/n’s chin, lifting it up.

he looks her in the eye.

he wants to kiss her, her lips look so soft. he’s 100% sure if their lips were to simply graze across one another, he’d still love it. be addicted to it.

y/n looks back into his eyes, feeling her heart beat and her stomach start to flutter.

“deal or no deal?” kylian says as he tilts his head to the side.

y/n eyes drops to kylian’s lips. they were the perfect size and naturally protruded out.

she imagined how it’d feel. probably like a pillow, or, maybe a marshmallow.

y/n eyes make its way back to kylian’s.

she made up her mind.

“deal.” she says before gently removing his finger from her chin. she gathered her bags and made her way to the door, kylian following right behind.

she slipped on her sandals as kylian unlocked & opened the door.

y/n walks out, before turning to kylian who stood by the door.

“goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

they say together.

the two laugh.

“till next time then, goodnight mr. mbappé.” y/n says.

“it’s kylian and i’ll call you tomorrow. make sure you answer. goodnight, y/n.” he says, smiling.

a/n (author’s note):

i am confident in this at all.. i feel like it could be way better but i wanted to hurry and publish something to whoever’s waiting. i’ve been so busy and tired with school :,(. it was supposed to only have one part but i didn’t wanna rush the plot too much.

i tried something new with the whole “pov” thing. and, i hope it’s not too confusing because i switch from 2nd point of view to 3rd a lot.

i guarantee part 2 will be more exciting than this. thanks for reading!

[gia-d]

Do you have any recommendations on how to learn bookbinding? It looks super cool, but I don't know where to start.

It depends on the type of bookbinding you want to get into, my focus is primarily on hardcover case bound books, so if that is what you are keen on, here are some resources that I found incredibly useful while learning:

YouTube

DAS bookbinding has a whole bunch of really detailed, professional tutorials that are incredibly useful. He covers multiple types of binds and techniques and they are all very easy to follow. (I always laugh when I watch his videos tho because he’s Aussie like me and he has the EXACT same shitty tiles in his workroom that I have in my house.)

Sea Lemon does bookbinding amongst other crafts, and while her videos are shorter and less in depth, they are very friendly for beginners and offer alternatives if you don’t have all the tools/equipment at home

Omgreylo is great for if you are doing fanbinding, she also has videos on typesetting, which is something you’ll want to learn too if you are planning on fanbinding. Her videos are also very chill and sometimes I’ll just watch them to relax because I’m a nerd.

Ingenious Designs has some really good videos on some more advanced skills like edge gilding and working with leather bound books. He’s also really charismatic so his videos are fun and informative.

I’m probably forgetting a few, but those channels have all been super useful. The other thing that I do and highly recommend is just browsing the bookbinding and fanbinding tags on tumblr, reddit and instagram to see what other people are doing. A lot of people (including myself when I finally remember to actually take pictures and record the process) will post progress photos alongside the finished project and will talk about the process. Most people are quite happy to answer any questions you might have about their projects too so don’t be afraid to ask.

Also the most important piece of advice I can give, if you are serious about bookbinding, GET YOURSELF SOME SHORT-GRAIN PAPER. It makes all the difference in terms of quality, ease of use, and durability.

Anyways if anyone else has any other resources or tips they think are useful, please feel free to add!

[authorred]

Bloodborne | Li Shen/Zayne x reader | Love and Deepspace

➺ Preface: You visit Zayne a lot at Akso hospital, as it seems to be his second home at this point. Whilst waiting for Zayne outside of his office, Dr. Greyson, a friend of Zayne, sees you and strikes up a conversation with you about your evol, and the potential it could bring to the healthcare field. Unfortunately, you are not that much of a philanthropist.

➺ Reader/MC has an evol of blood manipulation (of highest control). I've lowkey always wanted to write something like this ever since I knew Zayne was a cardiologist. It's literally perfect.

Warning(s): None

Akso Hospital is as usual when you visit: patients coming and going, some doctors and nurses scurry around to tend to their patients and perform other duties. You don't need to speak to Yvonne at this point to know where Zayne is, what he's doing, or when he's going to return. You're okay with waiting, as you two aren't able to see each other as much as you'd like to begin with.

You take a seat outside of his office and scroll on your phone, looking at the website of your favorite pastry shop. I wonder if he'd like the mint macarons. They're really sweet, though. I don't want to irritate his teeth. As you scroll, you feel the presence of someone standing in front of you, and your head turns up to see Dr. Greyson standing in front of you with a friendly smile. You don't often interact with him, as your focus is mostly on Zayne. "Doctor Greyson," you greet with a nod. "Can I help you?"

"Ah, not really," he replies with a short wave of his hand. "You're waiting for Doctor Zayne, I suppose?"

"Mhm," you nod. "Apparently he's in surgery right now. I can smell the blood--very tedious procedure apparently."

Greyson smiles at your comment, "I actually wanted to talk to you about that."

You shut your phone off and slide it in your pocket, "About what?"

"Your evol," he clarifies. He pushes up his glasses and shifts on his feet. "I heard from Doctor Zayne that you can sniff out a trail of blood from a mile away, as well as other feats."

"I guess," you reply with a shrug. "Is there a point to this, or are you trying to butter me up?"

"I know you're a Deepspace Hunter, and I don't mean to overstep, but have you ever thought about helping out here? In the Cardiac Department?"

A beat of silence passes as you process his words. Helping the hospital? In the cardiac department? With your evol? "Uhhhhh," you intelligently reply. "I don't quite understand."

Greyson laughs softly at your confusion, “You see, your ability to pick up certain things in the blood would be able to help us diagnose blood diseases and cancers so much earlier than average. I know you’re not a walking blood test, and it’s completely up to you. I just believe you would be a great addition for the cardiac department.”

“Ah, I see,” you hum softly after his explanation. He’s basically saying it would be beneficial to the hospital and to patients if you decided to help sniff/sense out blood cancers or other diseases. It would generally save resources, time, and money since you would be able to tell almost immediately. “I’m not exactly fit for a doctor’s role, or caregiver’s role, I think,” you say. “I appreciate that you believe me to be useful to the healthcare system, and I do understand how serious blood illnesses are, but, it’s just not for me.”

Greyson smiles and nods, “Of course. It was just a suggestion. I didn’t mean to pry or overstep.”

“Nah, you’re okay,” you shrug softly. “I understand why you would bring it up.”

“Besides, I think it would be cute if you and Doctor Zayne worked together like that,” he says. “It’s perfect, is it not? Your evol is blood, and he’s a cardiologist. It’s like it was meant to be, huh?”

“I suppose,” you reply with a shrug, idling twirling with your belt. “I don’t think the hospital would just let me on board like that—I imagine it takes time and a lot of studying. I don’t really have time or the want to do that.”

“I understand,” Greyson nods. “It was only a suggestion.”

~ You and Greyson talk for a bit until you notice Zayne walking down the corridor towards you two. He’s out of surgery and is clean and back in his usual doctor’s coat.

If you look closely, you can see his eyes shifting between you and Greyson. The very subtle downturn of his lips show some level of displeasure, no matter how low that level is. “I hope I’m not interrupting your conversation.”

“Ah, Doctor Zayne,” Greyson greets with a cheerful smile. “Not at all. I was just keeping Y/n company while you were in surgery.”

“So I see,” Zayne replies. His eyes then slide over to you, and his gaze softens ever so slightly. “Apologies for the wait. The surgery went on longer than I anticipated.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Time goes by quickly when you’re conversing with someone,” you wave off his apology.

“I’m glad Doctor Greyson served as a companion during your wait.” There’s a slight edge to his voice. It’s not exactly jealousy—more like. . . insecurity? Maybe?

“Yeah. Are you taking a break now?” You ask. “I wanted to try the pastry place down the road. It won’t take us that long.”

Zayne nods slightly, “That sounds good. Besides, I’ve been craving something sweet.”

~ “It seemed as if you and Doctor Greyson were having a good conversation,” Zayne says from your side. Both of you are walking down the street to the pastry place you mentioned before.

“Yeah,” you reply. “He was talking about how my evol would benefit the hospital. That I would save a lot of resources identifying and sniffing out certain blood diseases and such."

"Yes. Your ability to detect even the slightest imbalance in blood chemistry and composition would be highly beneficial to diagnosing blood cancers. Often times, patients don't realize anything's wrong until years later."

You subconsciously rub your nose, now acutely aware of all the scent trails to the people around you. "I imagine it can be frustrating," you reply.

"You don't have to do anything you don't wish to," he assures. "Just because you possess an ability that would be beneficial to a field doesn't mean you're obligated to use it as such. You're a good Deepspace Hunter, and you keep Linkon and us safe. I'd rather you on the battlefield than the OR."

You chuckle softly, lowering your hand back to your side. "Yeah, I know. I'm not the most philanthropic person to begin with. The failures of the healthcare system or people's diligence isn't my responsibility."

Zayne hums in agreement and continues to walk with you. The day is nice and clear with a cool breeze passing through. With the change of season, the leaves on the trees are beginning to turn into shades of yellow to deep red.

You look down at his hand as it continuously brushes against yours whilst you walk. With a small influx of your evol, you have more blood rush to your hand. Your skin flushes red and it becomes warmer. With hesitant but unyielding motivation, you grab his hand and can feel the chilliness in his skin. "You're cold," you comment, wrapping your smaller hand around his. "Don't you know patients hate cold hands, Doctor Zayne?"

Zayne glances down at you for a moment before back up to ensure y'all are walking in a straight line and a clear path. "I'm aware. It's unpleasant to be in a sterile environment like a hospital and then feel the coldness of a doctor's hands." His lips curve up ever so slightly, and he glances back down at you. "I suppose I'll have you rely on you to warm me up beforehand."

[taylor-swift-imagines]

Pool party

Pairing: Taylor Swift x (female) reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @lilylovescruelsummer

A/N: You and Taylor share your first kiss while in a swimming pool

***

“It’s two in the morning and I think you’ve had enough of that, (Y/n).”

You snapped your head towards Selena as she was the one telling you this. Selena was taking care in making sure that everyone had a drink, but you know it yourself that you had one too many. But even still, you weren’t done yet, and you weren’t shy on telling her otherwise.

“It’s two in the morning and I think I haven’t had enough.” you snarl back.

Selena doesn’t say anything at first, but if annoyed her when she’s spoken to in this way by anyone. The two of you had actually dated in the past for quite sometime and had called it quits shortly after meeting Taylor Swift. Taylor was all over you and you were all over her, you almost couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. When it comes to those times when your in the mood for it, which was basically all the time, Taylor would not hesitate to whisk you away and pull you into a room for some privacy. Nothing serious had happened yet, but that doesn’t mean things never got intimate when it was you two alone.

You were a kind hearted gal, and Taylor loved that about you. Taylor respected your boundaries and comfort zone when the intimate times come up once again, she never rushed you and was always sure to be as gentle as she could, not wanting to hurt you in the process. Taylor was the champion, she knew how to make you feel good without taking things much further or all the way. Just thinking about it made your legs shake as the thought turns you on, same goes for Taylor. Taylor had always pictured herself to be on top, the one in charge and the one to be the more dominant other with you underneath her. Oh and did she love it, she loved being on top during intimate moments, that was enough for her to get started in making it about you. This next time, Taylor would be the more dominant one as if it was any different. As of now, you were both at a pool party, you’ve been invited by Selena, the party being hosted by Hayley Williams and Olivia Rodrigo.

Before attending the party, you had decided to put on a two piece bikini and it showed a lot of skin. Taylor always loved how smooth and soft your skin was at the light touch of her own hand, especially when her gentle hand finds your smooth, flat tummy and leaves it there until she begins tracing soothing patterns on it, making you lightly moan from time to time. Taylor’s hand remains there while her lips reach for your neck, the sweet spot on your neck. You took a spot on a chair, still thinking about it and how things would be at a halt when they begin to get any more heated. Taylor isn’t shy to make the first move and leans in close ear, sending chills as she whispers into it.

“You’re perfect, (Y/n). I need you to know that.”

Now it was your turn to say something.

“Y-you don’t know how much you mean to me.”

Now here you are, picking up a drink handed to you by Hayley who reluctantly hands it over in your grasp.

“Last one and I mean it, (Y/n).” Hayley says sternly.

You just rolled your eyes as you mutter a “thank you” and are about to take a drink from it when someone’s lands a hand on your shoulder from behind.

It was Taylor, of course!

It’s at that point she asks you for a swim and you couldn’t say no to her. As you follow, you couldn’t help but notice her swimwear is nearly identical to yours. Skin revealing and everything, which to you was perfect. Once in the pool, you allow Taylor to swim you over with her to the deep end before having to sit on the underwater bench. Taylor’s legs drifted apart only slightly before having you on her lap, basically sitting on her smooth bare legs. This was a moment you never wanted to end, and as your head falls back onto her chest, Taylor holding your waist and before you know it, you feel Taylor’s hand begin to rub your bare leg lightly, but you don’t do anything to stop her.

You didn’t want to stop her, but when you feel her hand slightly moving closer further up, you flinch and slightly pushed back. Taylor grew concerned that she may have hurt you in some way and begins asking questions.

“Did I hurt you?” She asked fondly.

You shake your head.

“What is it?”

“It’s just, um…”

“Was that too much for you, sweetie?”

“For now, yes. I’m not quite ready to go much further, especially not all the way completely. You’re not cat fault here, I promise.”

“My apologies if I’ve made you you uncomfortable-“

“You didn’t, not at all. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Whatever you want to do (Y/n), is fine with me.”

“Hold me?”

Taylor couldn’t hold back the smile as she engulfed you in a warming hug and holds you for as long as you need.

All the while as she looks into your eyes, she sees nothing else besides absolute true love Taylor herself. Taylor leans in until your lips connect in a loving yet passionate kiss. Kissing Taylor while in the swimming pool was about to become a story to tell. This was one of your many first kisses with Taylor, the love of your life.

Just a kiss.

***

@taylor-swift-imagines