#this is..... what my brain does instead of writing....

[solxamber]

This is Love - Riddle Rosehearts x reader

3 times he notices your acts of love and realizes it doesn't have to be grand and overdramatic like the movies, it could just be like this– sweet and considerate.

crossposted from my ao3!

You’re not speaking to him. He knows why, of course—Riddle's temper had gotten the better of him again. Another argument, another set of rules he enforced too strictly, and this time you’d had enough. He had heard the bite in your words, the frustration lacing every syllable when you told him to “loosen up.”

And yet, despite the tension still simmering in the room, Riddle can’t relax. His back is stiff as he stares at the ceiling, hands clenched under the covers. He doesn't want to admit it, but the silence bothers him. It gnaws at him, the guilt festering. He can feel your presence beside him, but the distance between you feels like a canyon.

How could he have let things escalate like this?

He hears you sigh—sharp, frustrated—and then there's a shift in the blankets. For a second, he’s certain you’ll turn away from him, shutting him out entirely. It’s what he deserves, after all. But instead, something surprising happens.

Your arm. Wrapping around his waist. Gently, deliberately, like it always does before he falls asleep.

Riddle stiffens at first, completely taken aback. His mind races, wondering if this is a trick or just muscle memory. He doesn’t dare breathe. His heart is in his throat. You pull him closer and press a kiss to his hair.

Why are you…? After everything, you still…?

He feels the warmth of your touch seep into his skin, and slowly, so slowly, his rigid posture begins to relax. His breath comes out shakily, and though his pride won’t let him say it out loud, he’s grateful. It’s your way of telling him you’re still angry, but you love him. You always do.

And with that, sleep finally finds him, nestled in the comfort of your embrace.

The cold is biting today, and Riddle feels it in his bones. He’s leaving class with you, rubbing his arms discreetly as he walks. His uniform is meant to be formal and pristine, not warm, and his stubbornness refuses to let him complain. Still, he knows you’ve noticed.

Of course you’ve noticed.

“Riddle,” your voice breaks the quiet as you hurry to catch up with him. He doesn’t even look at you, still feeling the lingering embarrassment from earlier in class.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine,” he insists, his words clipped and precise. But the truth is, he’s shivering. His hands are numb. He’s starting to lose feeling in his fingers, and you can see it all over his face, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

In a swift motion, before he can protest, you slip off your jacket and drape it over his shoulders. Riddle freezes—literally and figuratively.

“W-what are you—”

“Take my jacket,” you say casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I can’t have the Housewarden of Heartslabyul freezing to death.”

The words hit him harder than he expects. His cheeks flame bright red, matching the tips of his ears, and he’s torn between protesting and basking in the warmth your jacket provides. It smells like you, like comfort, and he’s mortified by how much he likes it.

“...Thank you,” he mutters, barely audible, but the soft smile on your face tells him you heard him loud and clear. He tugs the jacket tighter around himself, both embarrassed and… a little touched. Maybe more than a little.

It’s late. Too late. Riddle’s been up for hours, drowning in paperwork and assignments, his brain on the verge of collapse. He’s so exhausted that even the numbers on the page are starting to blur together. Just a few more pages. He can finish this. He can—

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. One moment, he’s sitting at his desk, half-writing, half-dreaming, and the next, he wakes up with his face smushed against his textbook. His eyes flutter open groggily, his neck aching from the awkward angle.

Great. This will set him back for the entire day.

He blinks, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, and looks down at the stack of papers on his desk. The assignments are… finished? Every single one of them.

Riddle frowns. There’s no way he did all this. Is there?

“When did I finish this?” he mutters to himself, flipping through the pages. The handwriting is… definitely not his.

“You didn’t,” you say from the bed, voice casual as you scroll through your phone.

Riddle stares at you, wide-eyed and confused. “What?”

“You were practically dead on your feet, Riddle. I finished it for you.”

He’s too shocked to respond at first. His heart races, a mix of disbelief and something else—something soft, unfamiliar. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to process the way his chest feels tight, but in a good way.

“You… shouldn’t have done that,” he says weakly, though the words don’t carry any real conviction. He’s already skimming through the assignments, seeing how you’d matched his usual style of work almost perfectly.

You just shrug, grinning lazily. “Yeah, well. I wanted to.”

And there it is again—that warmth. The same feeling he got when you held him during the argument, or when you handed him your jacket. It’s starting to become more familiar, more difficult to ignore. His heart does a funny little flip in his chest as he stares at the completed work, then back at you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice so quiet he almost hopes you didn’t hear it.

But, of course, you did. You always do.

Riddle's never been great at expressing feelings that aren't tied to logic or rules. Love is messy and complicated, the kind of thing that doesn't fit neatly into the boxes he's carefully organized his life around. But there are moments—like when you wrap your arms around him after a fight, or when you lend him your jacket, or when you finish his assignments without a second thought—that make him wonder if maybe love isn’t supposed to fit into a box at all.

Maybe it’s supposed to be messy.

As he lies next to you in bed that night, your breathing steady and peaceful beside him, he finds himself unable to sleep. He keeps thinking about everything you do for him, the way you make his rigid, rule-bound world feel just a little more flexible.

“I love you,” he whispers into the quiet of the room, his voice barely audible.

You stir beside him, half-asleep, your arm lazily draping over his waist. “Love you too,” you murmur back, voice soft and groggy.

Riddle feels a weight lift off his chest, something warm and sweet settling in its place. He closes his eyes, smiling into the darkness, and for once, he falls asleep with no worries at all. Maybe this is love.

[l0stfoster]

Paul anon here, im literally in fucking tears by these doodles like . Im so . Skgskshdjhdbd AH. The socs choking Paul bc they dont know how his power works makes so much sense but is also like , SO sad . And Soda showing up during the jumping is crazy and Umbra my beloved you are the best character in this .

Darry calling Paul his pretty boy im gonna mmfnshhdvd i actually had to put my phone down and the RINGGSGSSS IM ACTUALLY SOO pony being a good brother reluctantly is soo funny and special to me actually . And paul using the last bit of money he had saved to buy that ring for darry is so ,, what a simp, i love him so bad . that had me in tears i love cursed!parry so much

And the powers beinf tied to his lifeforce ,, we’re gonna pray to god he never tries a ritual again or imma rock his shit lovingly <3

Im so obsessed with this au actually and it is constantly in my brain good job please never split parry up or i will sue 🫶🫶

Paul anon you match my freak™️ because we’re both insane for Cursed Paul. The writers appreciate every time you pop up because I storm over to our discord server and smack down a screenshot like it’s murder trial evidence and I'm an android detective (/ref) it’s great. Paul's jumping sucks extra for him because in the way I've gone about it is that the ones who jumped him were arguably the socs he was closest with; they took his sudden shift to bond with the greasers as an utter insult. Started a little writing thing about it but I'm not sure if I'll finish it, was mostly for my own visualization.

Paul got SO lucky that Soda showed, though it's likely that absolutely anyone would've followed after Umbra as well. Poor Soda absolutely PANICKED after the socs were gone, though. He had no idea if Paul was even still alive. (Fun Fact! In parallel to Two's jumping and how he mistook Dally for a soc when he was found, Paul assumed the same with Soda. Instead of lashing out against him, he tried to use his magic to get Umbra to run </3 Thought she was in danger by being there.) Even with his newfound scars and the ones he already had (ritual scars beloathed) he always be Darry's pretty boy. He loves his man, do NOT separate them. It certainly wasn't the last of his money but it sure as hell WAS the majority of the money he'd been making ('cause like I said, he does eventually end up finding work to help w/ bills). He's so down bad, Paul would do so much for Darry and it's my favorite thing ever. They get to be healthy.. or, as healthy as an unstable fae and human in a gay relationship during the 60's can be?? Seems like you might have to rock his shit.. Paul doesn't know that very important fact; but he is VERY intent on freeing himself (and assumedly, whatever upcoming generations of Tulsa) from this curse. Poor Darry has to witness the outcome. Aaand don't worry, Parry will never split (save for their pre-book falling out {and when I draw non-canon Darbit} ) so don't sue me I'm poor /silly

[buggachat]

something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.

But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin

[merlinfromberlin]

Never have I ever seen a smile this fake.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Baby Taylor's baby voice is so endearing and it's going to be bittersweet to "lose" that on the TVs, but I'm really excited to hear how they clean up (or not) the production on Debut. I mean I know they're going to make it as accurate as possible to the originals, but I mean in the actual sound mixing and stuff. Because I feel like this album could benefit the most from some of that! Which is not to say that the original is bad BECAUSE IT'S NOT, but I think there is subtle stuff they can do with the mixing/blending/instrumentals/treble/etc. to make it shine even more.

[b4kuch1n]

ough brain is doing SO bad but sometimes. there are colors

[jaskefer]

Obsessed with the idea of Extraordinary Things being a back and forth between Jaskier and Radovid, with Jaskier trying to draw him out in the first verse, and Radovid finally answering him in the second.

Cause like, with Radovid, Jaskier meets someone who he can't fully read properly. He knows there's something under the front of a drunken, bumbling prince, but he doesn't know him well enough yet to be certain as to what.

So, he tests the waters a bit. throws out a line to see if Radovid will take it—and he does. A little bit. But it's so interesting to me, because it doesn't just feel like Jaskier is trying to nail down Radovid's truth in this verse; it feels like he's injecting elements of his own mask into it, as well.

"Keep your words on ice, your gaze lights the fire. They say 'keep on playing nice,' but I have no desire. Why waste our words when lips were made for extraordinary things? It's not a want, it's a need, it is paying no heed to what others say to sing."

This is Jaskier's read of Radovid as he knows him so far: a man hiding more complex wants beneath the veneer of a drunken party boy. But it's also Jaskier admitting that he knows this about Radovid because he wears the exact same mask himself.

Much like how Jaskier and Ciri speak through Geralt and Yennefer in order to process their own feelings about them later in the season, Jaskier sings through himself in order to comprehend who Radovid is. Jaskier is using the performative persona he's crafted for himself in an attempt to coax Radovid out of his.

All of it leads into the main intention of this song: "The greatest songs are made up of unspoken words of love. Of them, I've had enough. with you, I am enough." I am tired of having to put up a front. I want to be understood. I think you understand me. Prove me right.

And Radovid sees what Jaskier is doing. He comments on Jaskier's ability to see people for who they are and not who they pretend to be. But there's still more he wants to understand. This still feels like a game, in a way.

It's only after Radovid sees the brutality of Dijkstra and Philippa up close, watches them orchestrate the assassination of the queen and threaten to incriminate him if he doesn't fall in line, that he then grasps the vulnerability in Jaskier's lyrics. Jaskier is also caught between multiple conflicting desires, that of his loyalty to Geralt/Yen/Ciri, and that of his work as the Sandpiper & how said work is backed by his continued commitment to Redanian Intelligence. That internal conflict and the desire to escape it is also highlighted in the song's first verse ("they say keep on playing nice, but i have no desire"). Only after all of this, when true fear begins to take over and the game stops being fun, does Radovid truly begin to truly understand Jaskier.

And so, he seeks him out. And he responds.

“Drop the sweet disguise, your heart’s beating too loud. The fairytales and little lies can’t drown out all the sound.” You were right. I do understand you. I know what you really want, because we're the same. You can’t hide it behind a façade of a song and a story and a persona.

“Take this heart and break this heart for extraordinary things.” I don't know what will become of this, or us. I still don't fully know if we can trust each other. But no one has ever seen me in the way that you have.

It's not a want, it's a need. With you, I am enough.

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

pov you’ve just reread the yi city arc… except that clearly wasn’t ENOUGH because of course your analysis brain had to take over and search for parallels, so you have to go and reread and save the most depressing WWX scenes right after…

i’m fine :))

[lycankeyy]

I swear to god over the past like three days I've had the thought "I should write down a bunch of my funkycule fic ideas in a doc so I don't forget about them and it can function as a prompt list" and then I IMMEDIATELY forget every single time

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

lonan and harrison fanfic where all they do is watch movies & throw popcorn at each other

[marblebees]

I got tired of Character AI getting so repetitive and slow with its prompts and story threads so i literally just wrote down an outline of how i would make the story better. In frustration, it got me to do my own fully original writing. Lmao

[alchemiclee]

been looking in tags for a few days now to see if anyone else found the whole high cloud quintet and related story to be a bit.....poorly written, nonsensical, contradictory, full of plot holes and loose ends, etc. apparently i'm not the only one. (and i'm not even talking about shipping stuff, because any time I saw someone mad about bad writing, someone always replies to be homophobic and laugh about failed ships. weirdos.) it could have been so good but was thrown into the garbage for the most part (IF you noticed all the plot holes and contradiction. if not, then it's a fine enough story tbh. I expect most people to see it on surface level and not read all the little hidden lore bits and try to piece it together like my autistic brain did. which is ok! enjoy it if you liked it and ignore me 😆)

[askinkiskarma]

I might be writing the angstiest Neteyam fic and I’m already crying writing the outline and I’m not ready and besties, neither are you!!

[thehuntyhunties]

stardew valley adjacent AU where Killua just up and absconds to scraggly-ass farm in a tiny little town in a quiet little valley fairly far from any city and very, VERY far from his family. He brings Alluka with him because arguably she needs new start even more than he does. Together they claw their way through figuring out how to clear out the land, grow a few crops, make new things from various resources. Alluka practically moves into the town library for a full week and a half reading every book she thinks will help. Eventually they buy some chickens, then a few goats. Killua attempts to train the goats to head-butt people on command, but only one of them gets it, and the rest are frustratingly relaxed. A few weeks into the farm life they find a kitten in an overgrown tangle and they name it Marshmallow but Alluka insists on referring to it as Killua’s son/child/baby every chance she gets and Killua pretends to be annoyed but secretly loves it.

They slowly get to know their neighbors, although initially Killua just keeps handing extra rocks to people (they have SO MANY rocks piling up in their storage) which pisses off nearly everyone in town except for the son of the lady who runs the saloon. Killua tries to break into the sewer. Alluka drags him up into the caves north of town because now she’s the town librarian’s favorite patron and she’s determined to find all sorts of cool things to fill the museum. They get the kitchen fixed up properly and get better at fishing. Killua keeps giving rocks to the town doctor just to piss him off and purposefully starts a feud with the manager at the local JojaMart, because their family has a stake in JojaMart and neither of them wants to see any connection to their family now that they finally have something that’s theirs. The guy who runs the farm supply store lets them know about a small cave on their farm that’s been growing weird mushrooms. Alluka finds a shadow person in the basement and they bond immediately, and she seems very young and they don’t want her out on her own, so now they have a roommate. Killua gets overly-invested in the various contests and competitions that take place throughout the year and obsesses over the melon plants and blueberry bushes while Alluka coaxes jam and pickle recipes out of the local grandmas.

They run into the saloon owner’s son at 1:30am while they’re leaving the caves because he’s going INTO the caves to collect slimes in a bucket (he’s been studying them in his free time because as an animal they make absolutely NO sense). Later he introduces Killua and Alluka to the junimos, who absolutely adore him because he’s spent his whole life in the forest getting to know them. And he also tells them “oh yeah and watch out for the big bear in the far west part of the forest, I think maybe it’s magic” and Killua says “wait what bear” and he says “oh don’t worry, even if you could get through the massive tree in the path i’m pretty sure the bear is friendly, anyways have a good night guys!” and Killua says “Gon wait come back WHAT BEAR” and Alluka makes a mental note to ask the blacksmith how much it will cost to get a stronger ax so she can bust apart the tree and meet the magic bear. 

[aria0fgold]

Cleaner tinies this time, featuring tinyfrin and tinydile

Yeah I... I haven't slept yet...

[kangaracha]

post the smau i’ve been without writing for three days and i already want to go back throw something else on my plate to distract me

rain is Plotting so just Wait also get out of here, i'm blocking you, remember. there's a whole 20k of nevermore waiting for you to read it. there's a whole 100k of heart.