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#if you saw this posted on my other account no you didn't
sensitiveheartless Β· 2 days
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hey i just saw a tiktok video with the horrors comic and i couldn't find any credit (also the comments were turned off ://) and i thought maybe you should know (here's the link to it: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGexd54Qx/ )
Ah, thank you anon! I'm not particularly surprised unfortunately, not the first time it's happened with that comic β€” sadly I don't think there's much I can do about it, especially since I don't have a tiktok myself. But thank you for letting me know! I do like to know whenever that happens, even if I can't do anything to get the videos taken down. At the very least, it's a reminder that I should really start putting some sort of signature on my comics πŸ˜…
...Also, in this particular case the video you linked actually made me laugh when I looked at it, because!! Quick storytime: the last time someone messaged me to let me know that a tiktoker had reposted the horrors comic, I went and looked at it and noticed that the reposter had put two of the comic pages in the wrong order. Somehow NO ONE in the comments had mentioned the fact that the order of events didn't flow right, it was hilarious.
Why is this relevant? Well, because this tiktok you've linked me to has the SAME EXACT MISTAKE, which indicates to me that this new person didn't even steal it from me directly, they stole it from the OTHER REPOSTER and also didn't notice the mistake in page order! The reposters are cannibalizing each other! I am both very entertained and utterly baffled by the lack of effort! They're not even stealing things well!
Anyway, all this to say: I have managed to find the humor in this kind of situation, but I still do not appreciate people reposting my stuff, especially without credit. And general PSA that if you see my comics/artwork anywhere that is not here on my tumblr, or on my AO3 account forest_raccoon, that is not posted by me, and it has been done without my permission.
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etherealily Β· 1 day
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π™’π™ƒπ™„π™‹π™‡π˜Όπ™Žπ™ƒ // Nate Jacobs.
Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Dark. SFW, but discretion advised.
Cliffhanger or series? Haven't decided. Repost because of reasons.
You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.
Desc.: You're needed. Now.
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It's not like you even knew Nate.
You knew of him, sure, quarterback and shit, but still, it was unlikely your paths would ever cross.
Until they did.
Until he started following you on Instagram.
That shit... was so unbelievably odd that you almost blocked him because you thought it was a fake account. But then you saw the mutuals. Holy shit. This was legit.
The fact that his account was private didn't surprise you. Yours was public because you had nothing to post and his was private because he had everything to hide.
You sent him a request. No biggie. I mean, he had to accept, right? He was the one who followed you first - it was only fair. And if it took too long, then you could always unsend it, yeah? Yeah.
It didn't take too long. It barely took three minutes.
Okay. Cool. Weird but cool.
The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you. An average social media interaction. Good.
--------
Come Friday evening, you decided that watching Maddy cheer was a little less important than your deadline and building your portfolio.
She absolutely supported you (rolled her eyes and said 'whatever, nerd. You still love me, right?') but was a little upset about it (pouted and called you a cunt).
Three hours went by, and you surprised yourself with the amount of work you were getting done. This is great. Friday evening well spent. Work a bit more, and then-
Nate Jacobs tagged you in a Close Friends story.
Close Friends? Tagged? NATE JACOBS?
Okay, one : no fucking way were you on his Close Friends.
Two : there were virtually zero pictures of the two of you, so tagging you was moot.
Three : there was supposed to be a game starting about fifteen minutes from now, Blackhawks versus whatever pretentious team they were going to beat, so why the fuck was he even online?
(Oh, yeah, the Blackhawks were absolutely fucking awesome.)
The story was only text. Text and nothing more.
Y/N, accept my message request. Now. I am not fucking around.
What message request? WHAT the fuck was going on?
You frowned, immediately scrolling over to messages. Shit. There was a request.
A picture, along with six other messages.
This was so strange. It was especially strange that he found the time to text you, when he was supposed to be practicing throwing the old pigskin around for the victory of his school. But text you he did. As if him following you wasn't enough to give you whiplash. "Yo."
"You're not here." No shit, Sherlock.
"You should be."
What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was the most excruciatingly awkward interaction you'd ever had.
"You should be here. Come."
Did he think he was super macho with all this mysterious, vague, one-word bullshit he was spewing? You know what, you'd actually bet your entire school tuition he did. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking why.
"U don't just send requests to random people. Don't act like you don't know me. Don't ignore my texts."
"I'm fucking losing it. Come now or else."
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
This was the most random thing to ever happen to you. Nate Jacobs, some random jock you never even said one word to, was texting you as if you had been best friends since two years old and you had always been all rah-rah-go-team for him.
You were almost scared to open the picture. Instagram asked you if you were sure. Once, twice. You should have listened. But you didn't, and you were about to face the consequences.
Red. That was the first thing you saw, and the first thing that had ever grossed you out enough to physically throw your phone away.
So much red.
Above the red, concealed almost cruelly, was a black box with white text in it. For a moment, your eyes were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with the monstrosity in front of you that you couldn't even begin to comprehend what the words meant. You picked your phone back up, squinting your eyes and blocking out the rest.
He must have noticed you accepted his request, because you saw 'Typing...' pop up way too fast for him not to have been waiting.
"I'll cut deeper if you don't show up."
Nate Jacobs was a cruel and manipulative bastard of a man who you would happily let die.
But not like this.
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You glanced at the screen and then back at the road, from time to time. There was no indication that he was typing. The 'online' sign still stayed. Okay. So he either just threw his phone away while still on your chat or he was about to-
Nate Jacobs started an audio call.
Clearly tonight wasn't going to be the night you stayed in and finished all your assignments, like you'd decided.
"Pick up or I'll fucking kill you."
Yup, that sounded about right.
You laughed, incredulously. The genuine threat wasn't lost on you, but what else does one do in this situation besides laugh at the absurdity of it all?
Better safe than sorry. You swiped up.
"Y/N, please just come."
It felt so weird to hear him say your name. It felt even weirder to hear him say 'please'.
"Why?"
"You need to be here." His voice was unwavering.
"Look, Jacobs, I'm sorry, but I have projects and assignments to work on. Not to mention, my portfolio-"
You wanted to see how far you could take it. He couldn't hear your car's sounds, and he couldn't possibly track your location, so according to him, you were still sitting at home, petulantly.
If he was joking, he'd just cuss you out drunkenly. If he wasn't, he'd... keep begging.
"Jesus fuck, Y/N, just come!"
"I can't. I'm sorry."
Keeping your calm was the best thing you'd ever done for yourself, the greatest form of self-care you could give yourself, because Nate Jacobs sensing nervousness was like sharks smelling blood in the water. Quick and bad.
"I have important shit, too, you know? Scouts are here, Y/N, please!"
"Look-"
"Coach, I know, just five more minutes - FUCK, Y/N, you gotta come.", he pleaded, his tone becoming far too pathetic to brush off.
"Why?"
"Why? Whaddayamean why?", he huffed out, frustrated, as if you were supposed to know this already.
2 + 2. What galaxy we live in. The colour of the sky. Why you were needed at the game. According to this asshole, all these things were common knowledge.
"I will cut deeper."
"Stop bullshitting, Jacobs."
You hoped to god that your voice didn't betray your bewilderment. This better be a sick fucking joke.
"I'm cutting."
"Stop."
"Coach says the five minutes are up, but I won't play without you here."
A video. SHIT. FUCK.
"What the fuck is your problem?!"
Actually, no. This better not just be a joke, because if the entire school was in on this shit, you would end up cutting him.
The grunts of pain and sharp inhales from his side of the call got more and more grotesque as you pulled into the school parking lot.
The school had an unsettling vibrancy to it after hours, and this was only exacerbated by the fact that you were supposedly the cause for a boy to slice through his own skin. It shouldn't have seemed this vibrant, this overwhelming, this vivid, this.... bright, but it did. The world moved at an eerily quick pace, like a carnival ride on LSD.
As you ran across the parking lot and gripped the gate to the stadium and basically swung right past it, you finally realized how fucking loud a crowd could be.
It was like they knew that their QB might be bleeding out because of you, because they seemed to scream loud enough to torture you for eternity.
Immediately manhandled by Chris McKay -another jock you had absolutely no connection to, but who seemed to have a very personal grudge against you-, you were pushed out of the locker rooms as quickly as you came in. Fuck's sake.
"Let me go , McKay!"
"Coach is trying to calm him down, and if he sees you, we got no idea what he might do, okay? OKAY?", he ordered, sternly, through clenched teeth as he shook your shoulders.
He was earnestly trying to be calm and gentle, but his fingers gripping harder and harder into your arms did jackshit to help his case.
"Okay."
He nodded, sighing in some emotion that seemed oddly like relief.
What, did he expect more of a fight? Did he expect you to be all 'no, I gotta see him now?'
You had no clue who the hell this bastard was, let alone what he wanted. No way were you going to kick and shout for him.
"What the fuck is his problem?", you asked, sighing against McKay's chest, exhausted.
He shrugged, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "He's stressed about the game."
"So he cuts himself in my name? We don't even know each other, dude!"
"Okay, he isn't exactly the one you go to for rationality, alright?"
"Yo, the fuck's going on, man? The game was supposed to start-"
The other team's captain.
"Yeah, we're just, uh, dealing with a situation over here.", assured McKay, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from going ballistic at Nate. Or you. Most likely Nate. But even more likely you. "Tell your coach we're so sorry, and we'll be out in a minute, tops."
The other guy scoffed, grumbling as he stomped away, glaring more at you than McKay. What, did everyone know now?
"He thinks we're trying to hook up before the game.", explained McKay, patiently, almost embarrassed. "It's a thing some athletes do, 'for luck'."
Jocks were the weirdest fucking aliens to ever exist.
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Crimson traced paths through the blinding white of the bandages wrapped tightly like dependent vines around his palm. Noticing the lack of uniformity of white, Coach tsked. "We need more. McKay!"
"Yes, Coach?"
"One more, then you can send her in."
"She came?" Nate's voice, though feeble and exhausted - and now, hopeful - was heard through the tiny gap in the door that McKay made sure would remain tiny as he passed the last bandage to him, and you didn't want to admit it, but it broke your heart.
Ew. Nate Jacobs was breaking your heart?
Coach finished wrapping Nate up, and McKay guided you in, with both measured aggression and protectiveness.
Nate's eyes lifted and brightened up immensely, a feat you'd only thought possible by a lone spark igniting and breach every inch of a dry leaf.
"You came."
"Son, I don't know what the hell you were thinking-"
"No, no, Coach, she's here, we can play."
Everyone stopped breathing at that moment. What the hell did the self-wounding quarterback asshole just say?
"What'd you just say, Jacobs?"
"We can play. Y/N's here. This isn't my good palm, anyway, so it's fine. Let's go."
And just like that, Nate was back. The amount of theses that could be written on this sheer anomaly of a man, the amount of studies that could be conducted, the amount of shock anyone else in this situation would go through- all unheard of.
No one else could handle it, though, besides all the people right there in the room. The best friend : self-taught and well-versed in handling him, the Coach : the authority figure that could calm him down with a bunch of fatherly words and....
And you : no one knew what the fuck you brought to the table. But something told you no one else would have survived in your shoes.
"Alright... then...?" Even Coach was absolutely speechless.
Nate nodded briskly, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy as he smiled at you.
Smiled.
Ladies and gentlemen : Nate Jacobs was on crack, confirmed.
He drew you in against his chest with an extremely unprecedented jerk, and you locked eyes with McKay behind him as he did so.
Not crack. Probably fent.
Your questioning gaze- which obviously said 'what in the everloving fuck is he doing?' - was met with a shrug and a look which suggested he barely even recognized his best friend right now.
"Okay, let's go WIN this motherfucker!", shouted Nate, patting your shoulder and loudly clapping his hands together before sprinting out of the locker rooms into the cheering football field.
It was dressed entirely in Blackhawk colours and bathed in a fluorescent, sickeningly pale light that you had to now spend an hour and a half in. Ugh.
Whiplash or not, you were about to throw up.
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You know those moments after a surreal event? When you just... sit. Stare into space and... ruminate.
You were having one of those in your car. The game had ended, really well, too, with the Blackhawks winning by a landslide. Your windshield had never held such secrets before. You stared through it.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Bang.
You turned. Nate Jacobs' fist fell on your window more times than you thought was necessary. 'Unlock the door, Y/N.'
You shook your head. Not a fucking chance in hell.
"'Y/N, don't be difficult, unlock the fucking door."
Something in you told you that that would be the worst mistake of your entire life.
"I'm sorry, I just want to talk, yeah?"
You had no idea if he deliberately made it a point to rest his bandaged palm on the window in full display to manipulate you, or if it was just a coincidence.
Just a coincidence, right?
You sighed, nodding your head in the direction of the passenger's seat as you unlocked it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He slid in, grinning as he shut the door.
"You catch the touchdown?"
"Yeah. I did."
"What'd you think? Smoothest match yet?"
"Sure."
His grin gave way to a lour as he scoffed. "Why are you so cold? Our school won."
"Why am I so cold? Why am I so cold? You asshole, you just cut yourself to make me show up!"
"Because you didn't show up when I asked nicely!"
"You're a psychopath." The effect of this word on him was oddly intriguing. He seemed to both be offended by it and seemed to get off on it.
"Can I just explain?", he sighed, sucking on his teeth for a moment as he watched other students, cheering, whistling, hooting and drinking, through your windshield.
You gestured at him to continue. He wasn't worthy enough of your words.
"You know athletes have...", he trailed off, searching desperately for the right word of vindication.
"Small dicks?"
"Okay, deserved.", he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, we have, like... superstitions, sometimes. For luck."
"Like the hooking up thing."
"How do you know about that?"
"McKay told me."
He scoffed, shaking his head as if his friend had divulged the biggest secret, as if he had broken some moral code.
"Alright, fine, whatever. But, uh, I pretend like it's not something I do, but I kinda have them too."
If he was about to say what he was going to, you were about to press into the wound just to watch him bleed again. How dare he.
"My, um, my first game, I bumped into you on my way to the locker rooms.", he admitted, clearing his throat as if to clear space for whatever he was going to say - because it was so obviously the solution to String Theory, like he was making it out to be.
But oh, shit. He actually was going to say it.
"And we won. The next game, I did the same again, by accident. Y'know, just, this time, I fist-bumped you."
"When the fuck did you-"
"You were drunk, and you were cheering all of us on with your friends. You went for McKay's fist, but I did it instead. Uh, yeah, anyway. So, from the... maybe fourth? Yeah, the fourth game, I made it a point to at least brush my arm past you. Haven't lost a game since."
Your touch was his good luck charm? Was he clinically insane? Or was he just a massive loser?
"What's next? Our rising signs are aligned?"
"It's not a fucking joke, Y/N!", he snapped, his fist clenching.
"Really? Because it's pretty fucking hilarious."
"You know how hard it was for me to even admit I had superstitions, let alone about some random nobody girl I've never even talked to?"
No, no, he was not trying to make you feel bad, no goddamn way.
"You know how hard it was for me to see some random nobody guy bleeding out because of me?"
"It wasn't that deep." The pun was intended. It was so evidently intended that you wanted to slap the smirk off his lips.
"Yeah, okay, get out."
"Okay. You better show up to the next one, babygirl, or I'll have to take more drastic measures."
The audacious son of a bitch ruffled your hair and winked before he left.
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"C'mon, Y/N, don't be a cunt. Just do it. High five me. Fist bump me. Hug me. Whatever. Just do it, I've got a game to get to. And... everyone's watching."
The very next weekend, there was another game. Last game of the season. And you were supposed to be there, of course, because Nate's 'entire life depended on it.' And what's worse? He'd dragged you there, from your internship.
That's right. He'd basically come to your place of work, interrupted a conversation with your boss, and tugged you along with him because of his borderline insane obsession with having to touch you for luck.
He could have gotten away with it, too, if his 'good luck charm' theory hadn't involved you having to make contact with him right before the game.
And now you were out there on the field. Backing away from him. Refusing.
"Y/N, please."
"Fine."
You slapped him across the face, as hard as you possibly could.
The entire football field gasped.
He'd fucked up your week with the picture of the blade carving into his skin, and now, he was fucking up your career by costing you your internship. And what's worse, he didn't even care.
"Go. Play now."
He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes to suppress his rage before he opened them again. "That's not how it works. It has to be mutual. Like a fist bump. Or bumping into each other."
"Oh, okay.", you shrugged, grabbing his wrist before using it to uppercut him. "NOW go. PLAY."
You didn't know if you were being 'whoo'd or 'boo'd by the crowd, but at this point, the only thing you could hear was the red hot fury in your boiling blood.
He bit his lip as you let go of his hand, and before he jogged out onto the field, you could have sworn he said something that, if you'd heard it right, could cut through your entire soul and ruin your self-perception for years - something absolutely, shatteringly degrading.
You hoped you'd heard wrong.
Taking your seat in the stands, you scrolled on your phone, ignoring the entire fucking game. As expected, text from your team leader.
Gone. Internship gone. LoR gone. Nate Jacobs? About to be gone.
-------
He won.
He. Fucking. Won.
And that smirk that he gave you before blowing you a kiss that immediately morphed into flipping you the bird made you want to genuinely ask him to recreate that video once again.
You hated yourself for it, but yes.
You wanted him dead.
All the trauma he'd given you the past week couldn't be left unpunished.
Oh, to knock him off his pedestal. OH, to be the one to make him scream in pain instead of arrogant mirth.
"Whoo! Nate FUCKING Jacobs, baby!", he cheered in your ear as you gritted your teeth, walking back to your car. "And, of course, you."
You threw your bags into your car, ignoring him as you get in, starting the engine. He thumped on the hood of the car. "Come on, you can't still be mad! Your boss was looking down your shirt, anyway!"
"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe you did this out of the goodness of your heart?", you scoffed.
"That's right, baby, chivalry ain't dead."
"No, but you're about to be. Get the fuck out of my way."
"Hey, I need a ride. Gimme a lift."
"No chance in hell, Jacobs."
"Stop wounding me. Let me in."
"Or what?"
"I'll break your window.", he shrugged, casually. Normal things. The sun will rise tomorrow. Seasons will change. He'll break your window.
"I wouldn't be letting you in if I didn't think you were psychotic enough to actually do that."
He chuckled, sitting as he rested his duffel bag on his lap. A couple moments later, he looked up at you. "What? What are you waiting for?"
"Tell me where to go."
"You don't know where I live?"
"Okay, let me explain this to you, slowly. I didn't know jackshit about you till, like, a week ago. I didn't know your age or what kind of car you drove, or even what classes we shared, much less where the hell you live!"
"All this shit just proves that you don't observe people around you. You only care about yourself."
"If I only cared about myself, you'd have bled out last week."
He sighed playfully, resting his feet on your dashboard because he very evidently knew you would have a neurotic breakdown. "I, for one, know your age, the kind of car you drive, all the classes you have, plus your favourite colour and food."
"The first two are moot.", you replied, ignoring his silent mockery of the word 'moot'. "Next, you know I'm in all of Maddy's classes. And the rest you can find on my account. Account stalker."
"Account stalker. God, sweetheart, you're such a child. You don't want your account stalked, don't have a public one."
"I barely even post anything!"
"Oh, yeah, what about last month?"
He was looking at your profile last month? "I'd gone to France. It was a photo dump."
"It was unnecessary."
"Okay, you know what this is?"
He raised a brow.
"This is post-game audacity, is what I call it. You won. You're Mr. Big Shot, so you think you can just-"
And that's when Nate Jacobs kissed you.
To call it the worst fucking moment of your life would be a massive understatement. "Drive."
"You did not just fucking kiss me."
"You want me to do it again?"
"NO."
"Then drive."
This motherfucking bastard of a man!
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"You wanna come in?"
No way in hell were you going into Nate Jacobs' house. Especially when there was a party going strong.
"I'm good."
He rolled his eyes, his arm leaning on the top of the window as he leaned in. "I don't bite. Initially."
"Ooh, you don't bite initially, oh, please let me come in right now! Shut up and get in, Jacobs."
"You've earned the right to call me Nate. Congrats. Begin using it."
"Why? We're never talking after this."
He scoff-snickered. "Oh. OH, so that's how it is.", he nodded, amused.
"Yeah, yeah, that's how it is."
He guffawed, banging on the hood of your car. "This ain't funny anymore. Come in."
"What? No."
"Is there really only one way to ask you to do something?"
"No, Jacobs, don't you dar-"
But he didn't listen. When did he ever? His fingers emerged from his pocket with his knife in tow. NOT AGAIN. This was the most cunning, calculating, manipulative, Machiavellian-
"I'm cutting. This time, my wrist."
"You're so fucking dumb, y'know that? You're psychopathic."
The grin on his face showed that you were wrong. He wasn't offended. He was 100% getting off on it.
Drops of blood reached the floor, and you realized you couldn't just drive off and leave this guy here - he'd probably still be cutting just to prove a point.
"I hope you die.", you mumbled, getting out of your car and slamming the door.
"I'm trying, dude!", he laughed, pointing at his wrist. Oh, this sick bastard.
"Not dressing that wound?"
"C'mon, blood is sexy. Badass."
Nate Jacobs was about to see how 'badass' blood could really get.
And when you were done beating the everloving shit out of him, you kissed him. Because he deserved to know how infuriating that shit was, too.
The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you.He didn't seem to care about the fact that you hit him so hard he almost had a concussion. An average social media interaction. Good.
How it should be.
But then he texted you.
Fuck.
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Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x21 Snow Drifts (Part 2)
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Summary: Β A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my Β  Β rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time. Β There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a β€œfix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.Β  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.
Word Count: 589
Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (25) (26) (27) (28)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Notes: I knew there was no way I could stick to just one drabble an episode for the CS movie, so I didn't even try. There will be 2 drabbles for 3x21 and 4 for 3x22. They are all written, so the plan is to post one per day until they're all posted.
They walked in silence for several moments, Killian shaking his smarting hand. Β  He hadn’t taken into account how blasted solid his former self’s jaw was when he decided to wallop him.
β€œI wasn’t going to let it go anywhere, you know,” Emma said, giving him a tentative side glance.
β€œPardon, love?” Killilan asked, brows furrowed.
β€œYou know, that whole make out session with him…or…you…or…whatever,” she said. β€œI know he was expecting a tumble in the sheets–”
He grinned wickedly before waggling his brows in an exaggerated manner.Β  β€œWith a lass as tantalizing as you, I rather doubt we’d make it to the sheets.Β  I’d probably take you right there against the ladder.”
He saw a delightful shade of pink spread across her cheeks and felt more than a little satisfaction that he’d managed to affect her even a fraction as much as she affected him.
β€œBut,” Β she said, apparently deciding the best course of action was to pretend he’d never interrupted β€œI had no intention of letting it go that far, no matter how well he kisses.Β  A few seconds longer, and I’d have decked him so we could get the hell out of here.Β  I can take care of myself, you know.”
β€œOh I know,” he said, smiling. β€œYou’re a fearsome lass, and you’d leave many a pirate quaking in his boots.”
She smiled back at him, and he was sure he’d be willing to do anything to keep that delightful smile on her face.
β€œAnyway, if you were, I don’t know, jealous of him…yourself…whatever,” she said, β€œI just wanted to let you know.”
He smiled wistfully.Β  β€œHe was a bloody git,” he said, his voice disgusted.Β  β€œHe deserved far worse than that.”
She was silent for a second, and he could tell that she understood him, that she knew he was talking about far more than Captain Hook trying to get into the skirts of a fetching woman.
β€œKillian,” she said gently, as they slowly walked toward Midas’s castle, β€œI know you did bad things in the past, but who of us hasn’t?”
β€œFar be it from me to disagree with you, love,” Killian said bitterly, β€œbut your transgressions couldn’t have been anything compared to mine.Β  That man lying unconscious on the Jolly… There’s no way to expunge the dark deeds he’s done.”
β€œBullshit,” Emma said, and his brows rose at her emphatic tone as well as her profanity. β€œKillian, that man is you.Β  You may have lost your way, but you’re a good man. You’ve always been a good man at your core.Β  I could have defended myself if I’d needed to, but I knew I didn’t.Β  Even at the height of your bad guy days and drunk out of your mind, I know you would never have hurt me.”
For a moment, this simple statement of faith rendered him speechless, and when he spoke, his voice was not quite steady.Β  β€œYou trust me that much? Truly?”
Her smile was just a little bit tender.Β  β€œOf course,” she said simply.
The moment was charged, the tension crackling between them. Emma swayed toward Killilan, and he mirrored her action, his eyelids started to flutter as their lips moved closer…closer.
Suddenly there was a scurry of motion and a rabbit darted past, a fox close on its furry heels (Incidentally, do rabbits have heels?) and the mood was broken.Β  Emma took a step back, her cheeks pinkening once again.
After a moment Killian grinned, raising an eyebrow.Β  β€œMight we return to the topic of how well I kiss?”
NEXT CHAPTER->
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helloweezz Β· 15 days
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Style practice ft. Kotone
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bytebun Β· 1 year
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attempts at consideration (misunderstood) (ingo would battle all day if he could) (don’t you wish you could hang out with characters without having to beat stuff up)
ID under cut
4-panel comic titled β€œdo you have games on your phone”.
PANEL 1: Ingo recalls his Pokemon. He thinks: She’s been looking worn out. Ingo says: We don’t have to battle every time.
Β PANEL 2: Akari droops. It’s her 32nd attempt at the eevee path of solitude. She thinks: He’s tired of this, huh... Akari says: Oh, uh, then...
PANEL 3: Text pointing to Akari says: doesn’t know what β€œnormal” friends do. Akari says: ...Do you wanna play games on my phone? PANEL 4: They have their backs turned, looking at Akari’s phone. Ingo looks very distressed, with his hands on his head. He yells: AKARI YOU MUST CEASE β€œSURFING” ON THIS SUBWAY!! IT IS VERRRY UNSAFE!! Akari replies: lol don’t worry it’s a magic skateboard. It’s implied they’re playing subway surfers. Out of frame, Kamado comments: What are those two doing...
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The rumors are true: Peter B. Parker has TWO hands
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arthur, flirting: i haven’t seen you around - i’d definitely remember a face like that ;)
merlin: did you just fucking call me ugly?????
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nickquin Β· 1 year
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He’s saying hello
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mammons-housespouse Β· 2 years
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I'm trying to get into Arcana Twilight but it's really fucking hard when the gacha system sucks ass like it does
I should be able to get SOMETHING good after spending some money, but it's not guaranteed which is garbage
So far I like the story, the characters, and obviously I like the game mechanics since it's just obey me with different paint but. not a fan of the gacha >:(
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lizeon Β· 2 months
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man i'm so smart
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chemicalarospec Β· 6 months
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you'll never be fucking happy with what people say just shut the fuck up. other POC are using BIPOC too. its whatever terminology and acronyms you feel comfortable using and feel represent you and your people best. i'm not gonna stand there using fourteen fucking sentences to say 'black people' when i can just say 'black people'
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this might be a disproportionate reaction... (tbf tho there was a tone shift in the post from playful to frustrated b/c the first half was an old draft, which this tag dates back to. Still, I didn't deride people who use "BIPOC", just their lack of consensus, or swear at anybody.)
I literally said people should say "black people" when they want to say "black people". but uh. go off I guess.
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mariamlovesyou Β· 5 months
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tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:
plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."
contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."
on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."
rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."
"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."
"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."
rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."
"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."
"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."
plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."
before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.
on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."
"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."
a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.
she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.
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emberwhite Β· 3 months
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I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!
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I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.
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I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.
Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.
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But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.
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This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.
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But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.
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I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.
Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.
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irisintheafterglow Β· 7 months
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kid megumi starts a fight. you and satoru finish it.
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being fresh out of high school while simultaneously taking care of a second grader was an interesting experience, to say the least. today was no different.
"oh my god; he what? i'll be there in a second, fucking hell," you sputter as you all but shoot upward from your desk, sweeping the post-mission paperwork to the side and grabbing your car keys from the bedside table. the car makes strained vrooms while you impatiently pump the gas pedal, accelerating down the street like a bat out of hell. swerving into the nearest parking space you could find, you forcefully swing open the door to the front office to find satoru waiting in a plastic chair. he mutters an exasperated oh, thank god under his breath before standing and taking your hand, leading you down the hall to the principal's office.
"is he okay?"
"he's fine, i promise." you look at him skeptically, remembering all the times megumi was "fine" yet had scrapes that satoru didn't know how to clean up. "i'm serious. i saw it myself. the nurse cleaned up his nose and iced the hit on his face."
"he got hit in the fucking face?" your jaw drops in shock and you quiet your voice to a hushed whisper outside the principal's office door. "what the fuck happened that he got punched in the-"
"fushiguro's guardians, please come in. we're ready for you," an irritatingly nasally voice calls from inside and it takes all of your willpower not to blast the door open until it's shredded to pieces. megumi's principal sits behind an obtrusively large wooden desk, with the boy sitting by one end and two empty chairs at the other. you immediately drag one of the chairs over to sit by his side, but a wrinkled hand stops you. "please sit across from him, not beside him. he must receive proper punishment and that begins with accounting for his own actions," the principal instructs you and you catch satoru's jaw clench in restrained anger. he wanted to tear the principal's head off for telling you what to do, especially since it was regarding megumi.
"i'll decide where i want to sit, thank you," you reply with forced politeness, sliding the chair next to a defeated megumi. he scoots as close to you as he can and links his pinky finger in yours. it's small, but you know he's trying to manage his anxiety along with yours. satoru shrugs indifferently at the principal but shoots you a proud wink when no one is looking. "they cleaned you up, yeah?" you ask megumi softly and he nods, wincing slightly when your knuckles lightly brush the bruise on his cheek. "i'm sorry, baby-"
"fushiguro instigated a fight with three sixth grade students, all of them older than him. we believe he may have developed issues dealing with his emotions, specifically anger," the principal informs you and you make a great deal of effort to wipe the glower from your face. "student witnesses say that he struck first, and-"
"do you know why he started the fight in the first place?" your eyes narrow on the scrawny, shriveled man behind the oversized desk and he shrinks away slightly.
"no, b-but we believe that violence should not be-"
"violence or not, shouldn't you be responsible for understanding why this occurred outright?" your voice is strained and tense, slightly shaky with repressed anger. you stare daggers into the old man's sunken eyes and catch satoru watching the whole scene with pride. here was a man who knew nothing about a child you considered your own, trying to argue that he started a fight for no reason when you knew megumi would never harm a bee, even if it stung him. before you're able to start a physical fight with the idiot school official that probably saw more board meetings than actual students, satoru's voice cuts in.
"forgive me, but i don't appreciate your tone-"
"we'll be sure to properly discipline him at home, sir," he states emotionlessly, and you wordlessly thank him for wrapping the meeting up quickly. after a few more glares and aggressive signatures on paperwork waiving the school of any responsibility for megumi's injuries, you walk out of the office with satoru's arm around your shoulders and megumi's hand grasping yours. "alright, firecracker. you fizzled out yet or do we need to take you to a kickboxing class real quick?" he presses a tender kiss to the side of your head, clearly unbothered by the way you barreled through that ridiculous meeting.
"put me in an empty field away from people, and i'll make a kickboxing class look like a fucking knitting circle," you mutter vengefully as satoru chuckles under his breath.
"alright, megs. you gonna tell us what happened or are we actually going to need to get you a therapist?" megumi glances off to the side, irritated, but you squeeze his hand once in reassurance that, no matter what happened, you'd figure it out together.
"they were hurting tsumiki," he says quietly and both you and satoru freeze, looking at each other in careful understanding. "she was saying it was just a joke, but i caught her crying while we were walking home."
"so, you decided the best option was to fight them," you say slowly. satoru's hand rubs loving circles on your shoulder and you ask the question you've been holding onto since he called. "well, did you beat them?"
"i did, and that's why everyone is so angry," the boy shrugs and you huff a tired exhale. "are you mad at me?"
"no, megs. i'm glad you defended your sister, but i wish you'd told us what was going on before acting on your own."
"yeah, we could have helped you," your boyfriend whispers and you elbow his stomach lightly. not yet, you mouth to him. let's drop him off first.
"the kids said they were going to get my parents involved. is that why you're here?"
"yes and no," satoru says, opening the car door for you as you slide into the passenger seat. he could have warped back to the school, but he'd silently indicated that he wanted to drive all three of you back. "yeah, we're here to come get you; but, unfortunately for those shithead kids-" you turn to face him in the backseat, a conniving smile creeping onto your face.
"we're not your parents, and we're gonna need those kids' names."
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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verstarppen Β· 1 month
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I SAW SMTH ABOUT YOU NEEDING LOGAN SMAU IDEAS AND OH BOY DO I HAVE ONE!! So basically, reader is logans childhood best friend. Always loved gymnastics, and logan always went to all of her recitals and big competitions, and she went to all of his karting practices and races. Now they are grown up and reader is a professional gymnast competing in the Olympics for America, and logan is a professional f1 driver. They are still so close, and they have been dating since they were like 16, but none of the f1 world knows that, they just believe they are friends. Reader manages to get gold at the Olympics so logan does a whole ass simp appreciation post hardlaunching their relationship and giving all of their fans whiplash.
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summary; logan has a very special helmet reveal on instagram to celebrate your olympics gold metal and a scavenger hunt seems like the appropriate way to reveal it to you
pairing; logan sargeant x fem! olympic gymnast! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; girl who starts breathing like darth vader after three flights of stairs: yeah i can write from an olympic gymnast's pov that's fine; i've also never been in japan so pinterest was my best friend here
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liked by olympics, logansargeant, olliebearman and 3,801,506 others
ynusername the feminine urge to walk around tokyo aimlessly
view all 100,844 comments
vertiddieenjoyer your pfp is such a jumpscare please change it
ynusername never. logansargeant Please? ynusername over my dead body
osc_pastry WILLIAMS MISSING IN THE LIKES πŸ’€
olliebearman Congrats on both wins :)
armstrongslayer NAHHHH setbackhamilttel "call an ambulance, call an ambulance- but not for me" julyestie guys stop giggling...we're on a crime scene
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liked by ynusername, liamlawson30, oscarpiastri and 1,400,789 others
logansargeant Thinking of you. Always.
view all 479,007 comments
oscarpiastri How kind of you
logansargeant 😐
roboclaren WHAT WAS THAT....OKAY....JAMES
haas_shaker i too, think of james vowels always forzapluto NOT AFTER WHAT HE PULLED IN AUSTRALIA
bbglewis do you hear that? the sounds of hundreds of f1 wag accounts STOMPING in your direction
mcmango y/n is punching the floor rn
albon_goated oscar too
pierrette girlfriend reveal when
typicallyleclerc It's gotta be that model Caryl Zarubin? Weren't they spotted together at a restaurant recently? lionkingseb no i think he was there with his best friend and she happened to see them and asked for a picture, they don't follow each other on social media or anything like that so it's unlikely typicallyleclerc Ohh, I didn't know that. Thank you.
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liked by ynusername, alex_albon, jv.f1 and 2,870,475 others
logansargeant I contemplated how to word this for a long time, but I finally feel ready. For as long as I have known you, you've been a pillar of hope. Someone I can count on. Someone who tells the bullies off when I couldn’t. The first person I ran to after getting my first win.
To see you achieve something as great as an olympic gold metal has made me eternally grateful to be called yours. I can’t promise a win anytime soon, let alone a championship, but I can promise to commemorate you while there's still a stage light above me.
Your shine is brighter than any star, but I’ve tried to replicate it. Congratulations on your achievement, love. I hope you like the surprise πŸ˜‰
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ynusername YOU ABSOLUTE SAP
logansargeant For you? Always 😌
alex_albon @ ynusername Am I forgiven? I helped with the design
ynusername some sins cannot be forgiven so easily, alexander ynusername im joking ofc you're forgiven, it's not humanly possible for anyone to stay mad at you for long
feeltheorange oh so they're...oh
albogeant this is so sweet i think i feel cavities forming
redbullpapaya STOPPPPP
mcmango nevermind, it's just oscar punching the floor rn
albon_goated A WIN IS A WIN
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liked by logansargeant, frederikvestiofficial, arthur_leclerc and 3,151,889 others
ynusername more priceless than any medal
view all 1,988,475 comments
oscarpiastri Okay then, give it to me
ynusername fuck off you can pull it away from my cold dead hands
logansargeant Time to announce the best date competition winner
ynusername you have no competition frederikvestiofficial This couldn't have been more fun than the Ghibli museum :( olliebearman you have to be squidding me oscarpiastri Woomp Woomp arthur_leclerc I would've won olliebearman yeah right olliebearman tuna in next time
ynusername absolutely not, im not doing any more side quests
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pic credits; instagram and pinterest
fic-specific taglist; @spilled-coffee-cup @onecojg @cixrosie @sheridamn @namgification @thehufflepuffavenger1 @sxrcxsm26 @mehrmonga @mellowarcadefun
blog taglist; @wtfisakilometer2 @aexitizen-ln4 @localwhoore @onecojg @sheridamn @cixrosie @gulabjamooon @melozyxo @spilled-coffee-cup @biitch-with-wifi @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr @marshmummy @lavenderhazeeworld @ravisinghs-wife @namgificationΒ @sheridamn @whatislifebutlemons @demvnsriot @stinkyjax @sxrcxsm26 @beskardroids @tbsloneely @yourmumsdirtysock @elliegrey2803 @mael1pastry @mehrmonga @marymustdie @mellowarcadefun @geniusalpaca
(uni is draining me save me pookies)
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vanteguccir Β· 2 months
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TikTok trends | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by @paytonthereader
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
PS.: I made a part 2!
༻✦༺ γ€€ΰΌ»βœ§ΰΌΊγ€€ΰΌ»βœ¦ΰΌΊ
Just like Matt worked with YouTube making videos with his brothers, Y/N worked with TikTok. She created her account on the app in 2019, and from 2020, she lost her camera shyness slowly and started posting her own videos, creating content for her favorite niche: makeup and skincare.
When Matt moved to Los Angeles, the two met in an unexpected and clichΓ© encounter in line at a bakery on a rainy morning. Their friendship grew as quickly as it began, and feelings were gradually cultivated. With both of them working on the Internet and being public figures, it was easy to understand each other and fit in their crazy schedules.
It didn't take much. The two quickly found themselves in a tangle of reciprocal feelings. Matt felt proud that he was brave enough to make the first move, and soon, the two were in a beautiful relationship that blossomed very quickly and lightly.
Because they both work with social networks, they decided not to keep their love a secret, and what surprised them most was how the fans supported them together, it was rare that they encountered comments from haters.
With that, in all of the Sturniolo Triplets' YouTube videos and Y/N's TikToks, there were thousands of people begging them to make more content together, being called "the power couple" by both fandoms.
That's why Y/N always found a way to convince Matt to do some couple trends on TikTok with her, and despite pretending he didn't like it, she knew how much he adored making mini videos with her, showing to the world how much he loved her.
ΰΌ»οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘ΰΌΊ
1.
Y/N fitted her phone on the phone holder attached to the right side of the front windowscreen of Matt's car - which was there precisely because she loved recording herself doing makeup there, being the passenger princess she was -, lowering the brightness of the screen so that the boy couldn't see the TikTok camera open.
She adjusted the position of the device so that it covered the two front seats, pressing the red button to start recording, smiling slightly to the camera before looking away.
Matt didn't notice her movements, too focused on the sight in front of him, driving slowly through the McDonald's drive thru line, waiting for their turn. His left hand held the steering wheel, while his right hand rested on Y/N's thigh, caressing her covered skin gently.
Y/N's calm playlist played softly through the speakers, creating a comfortable atmosphere for both of them.
The girl knew that she was going to make the order that day, knowing that Matt was feeling too anxious to talk to a stranger, so her plan would work.
"Do you already know what you will want, baby?" The girl asked. Her tone was low as she turned her upper body to the left, focusing her eyes on the brunette.
"Just some nuggets, baby. And Coke, please." He asked, looking at her quickly before returning his eyes to the cars in front of them, receiving a nod from the girl.
It didn't take long and soon it was their turn. Matt rolled down the window on the driver's side door, smiling kindly at the attendant before turning to his girlfriend, waiting for her to start the order.
Y/N leaned to her left, getting closer to Matt so the attendant could hear her clearly.
"Hi, good evening! Can I have a cheeseburger with fries and a Diet Coke, please?" She spoke her order, waiting for the attendant to select it before starting Matt's. "And my husband will just have a big portion of nuggets and a Coke, please."
Y/N tried to capture Matt's reaction without letting on that she was expecting something, watching him surreptitiously from the corner of her eye, pressing her lips into a thin line when she saw him smile big, lowering his face to hide the red color that took over his cheeks.
His hand - which was still on the girl's thigh - squeezed the flesh lightly, and Y/N could swear his fingers were shaking.
After receiving confirmation from the attendant and paying for them, Matt rolled up the window and gently accelerated to get back in line.
When the car in front stopped again, he finally turned to Y/N, a huge smile on his face as his eyes glistened with tears.
"I'm your husband?" He asked, his voice coming out weak from the emotions he felt, his cheeks burning with redness while he felt his heart accelerating.
"Not yet, but one day you will be." Y/N said in a low voice, smiling equally big. She brought her left hand to Matt's right, caressing the soft skin, holding herself back from pulling him into a hug and peppering him with kisses.
"I love you so much. So, so much." He muttered, moving closer and sealing his lips over Y/N's, closing his eyes and letting a happy sigh scape through his nose, a smile still on his mouth.
ΰΌ»οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘οΉ‘ΰΌΊ
2.
Y/N placed her phone on the kitchen counter next to the stove so that the front camera was facing her and taking in as much information from the room as possible.
The girl was cutting some vegetables while preparing lunch for herself and the boys, wiping her hands on the dishrag before clicking on the screen, starting the recording.
"Baby!" She called from where she was, smiling quickly to the camera before lifting her chin slightly so that her voice echoed better. "Come here, I need a favor."
The sound of her and Matt's shared bedroom door opening sounded before light footsteps approached. Soon, the boy's image appeared behind Y/N as he walked closer to her.
"Hi honey. What do you need?" He spoke back, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend's waist and resting his chin on Y/N's right shoulder, sealing the area with his lips softly before noticing the phone recording them. "What are you doing?" Matt asked, his brow furrowed as his eyes focused on the image of the two hugging each other that stared back at him.
"I'm just recording a recipe." She lied quickly, lightly biting her bottom lip to hold back her laughter. She really didn't know how to lie to him. "Baby, can you go to the market for me? I need tomatoes to make sauce." Y/N asked, releasing the knife she was holding in her right hand and bringing it to Matt's head still on her shoulder, stroking his hair lightly, receiving a happy sigh in response.
The boy let out a sound of agreement, nodding his head before lifting it up, kissing Y/N's shoulder and her cheek, squeezing her waist one last time before taking some steps back.
"That's it, baby?" He asked as he felt his pants pocket with his right hand, checking if he had his wallet and car keys.
Y/N agreed, picking up the knife again and going back to cutting the vegetables.
"Alright, if you remember anything else, just text me. I love you, bye." Matt asked, turning around and starting to walk towards the stairs.
"Okay, thanks!" Y/N thanked him, smiling small when she heard Matt's footsteps stop abruptly. She looked up at her phone slightly, seeing her boyfriend turn around with a confused expression.
"I love you, bye." He repeated, watching her closely.
"Bye, honey. Drive safe." She added, trying to hide her smile as she turned her attention back to the vegetables.
Matt approached her again, positioning himself behind her body and tilting his head to the side so he could see her profile, his blue eyes running over her features.
"I love you." He repeated it a third time, this time slowly, as if he were speaking to a child.
"Okay." Y/N persisted, keeping her eyes on the vegetables, taking deep breaths to keep from laughing.
"Did I do something?" Matt asked, his right hand lightly grabbing Y/N's right arm and making her release the knife, turning her body so that she was facing him. "I'm sorry." He asked, his eyes scanning his girlfriend's face as a weight took over his gaze; he felt guilty despite not knowing what he had done.
"What? No, you didn't do anything." The girl shook her head, intertwining their fingers and looking at him in false confusion.
"But... that's not how it works, baby. I say, "I love you", and you have to say "I love you" back." Matt insisted, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand what was happening. "Did something happen that I don't know about?"
A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat, she couldn't keep pretending when seeing the confusion in her boyfriend's eyes, her heart warmed with the way he was trying to apologize and fix something he didn't do and that, in fact, didn't even exist. Matt remained watching her, feeling even more lost than before.
"I'm sorry, It's just a prank, baby. It's for a TikTok." The girl explained, pointing to her phone that was still recording them.
Matt rolled his eyes, sighing in relief before a smile took over his face.
"You're still going to give me a heart attack." He muttered, shaking his head. "Let's do it again then. I love you, bye." Matt repeated, still holding his girlfriend, who laughed lightly at his reactions.
"I love you more, my love." She finally responded, reaching forward and quickly sealing their lips. "Now go buy my tomatoes."
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3.
Y/N held her phone with her right hand, the screen showing the TikTok camera open, with the audio already selected, just waiting to be started.
She was standing in front of the closet doors in her shared room with Matt. The lights were low, forming a comfortable atmosphere.
Her left hand held her favorite red lipstick from Kylie Cosmetics, with the lid off and the contents showing.
Her right thumb clicked the red button to start recording, the audio echoing through the four walls.
"Stay with me"
She applied one more layer of lipstick to her bottom lip, smudging it a little on purpose.
A masculine hand - Matt's - appeared in the camera view, cupping Y/N's chin firmly and wiping away the smudged lipstick with his thumb gently, pulling her face up so she was looking at him.
"I don't want you to leave..."
Y/N turned her phone slightly so the camera caught the two of them, Matt appearing at her side with his face and neck smeared with lipstick marks.
His face was facing hers, his blue eyes traveling from her eyes to her painted lips, a smirk appearing on his cheeks.
Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling her face take on a red color due to the intensity of his gaze, smiling shyly.
Matt pulling her face for a kiss was the last image captured on camera, before the TikTok ended.
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4.
"Baby?" Y/N called out loud, her eyes briefly flicking to her phone, which had the TikTok camera open, already recording herself.
She was sitting on the couch in the living room, the television on in the background as her favorite series played.
"Yes, baby?" Matt responded from their bedroom, leaving the room seconds later and approaching the living room, stopping near the couch as he looked at his girlfriend, waiting.
"Do we have orange?" She asked, turning her face towards him, smiling small when she saw a confused expression appear in his eyes.
"The fruit? Hm, I guess so. We bought it last time we went to the market." Matt replied, resting his hand on the back of the couch, leaning his hips on the armrest.
"I really feel like eating an orange right now." Y/N continued, closely watching her boyfriend's reaction.
"Oh, I'll get you one, hold on." Matt responded quickly, turning around and walking over to the fridge, opening the door and reaching for the fruit from the fruit and vegetable drawer.
Y/N looked at her phone camera wide-eyed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled big, a reddish hue taking over her cheeks.
Just under two minutes later, Matt returned with a small bowl in hand, and Y/N quickly recognized it as her favorite bowl that had bee designs on it.
"Here, my love." He handed her the ceramic. Y/N took it and looked inside, seeing her orange not only peeled but cut so that she could eat it slowly and without getting her hands dirty.
Y/N pouted as her eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you." Her voice was broken due to the amount of love she felt at that moment, looking up at her boyfriend.
"What is it?" Matt asked worriedly, sitting down next to her and pulling her close, laying her head on his right shoulder as he brought his head closer to hers, sealing his lips on her hair and exhaling lightly, smelling the soft smell of shampoo. "Why are you crying, baby?"
"I just love you so much."
"I love you more, silly."
༻✦༺ γ€€ΰΌ»βœ§ΰΌΊγ€€ΰΌ»βœ¦ΰΌΊ
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