one of my creative writing professors once said that to evaluate a work as good or not, first you ask what the work is attempting to do, and then you evaluate how well it does it. and this is how to judge everything from critical essays to romance novels to snack packaging to theory tracts.
99% of fanfiction is absolute dogshit bathwater and that’s beautiful, I love that, I love that the barrier for entry is nonexistent, I love that anyone can do it, I love all the badly written porn, I love that it’s just creation for creation’s sake, I love it. Except when it’s something I’m into. When it’s something I’m into, then I’m gonna need everyone to step it up.
chatgpt is a threat to the symbiotic relationship between fanfic writers and their betas. we are losing our traditions. eradicate the soulless machine and ask your friend who has a full time job and 3 kids to annotate your omegaverse fanfiction like any other responsible adult.
Warnings: friends/coworkers to lovers, established mutual feelings, fluff, drunk reader, whipped Jack.
Summary: Jack decides he’s done hiding exactly how whipped he is for you.
After a brutal week of work, your shift crew was letting loose, trading complaints about management and downing cheap drinks.
But Jack wasn't paying attention to any of them.
He was leaning against the table, a half empty beer in his hand, with his gaze entirely on you. You were sitting across the table, throwing your head back as you laughed at a joke someone just made. The warm ambient lighting of the pub caught the edge of your smile, and right then, something shifted heavily in Jack’s chest.
God, she’s easily the most beautiful person in this room, he thought, a sudden clarity hitting him.
It wasn't just a fleeting work crush anymore, and he knew it.
Watching the way you effortlessly commanded the space around you, he realized he was completely done for.
He found himself thinking past the walls of the bar, imagining what it would be like to be the one walking you to your front door tonight. He’d willingly play the perfect gentleman, do whatever it took, even charm your mom if he ever got the chance to meet her; anything just to ensure he got to stay in your life.
The mere thought of a future with you, spoken out loud or just kept in his head, made his heart race.
As if feeling the weight of his stare, you turned your head. Your eyes met his, and your smile softened into something private, just for him.
Jack didn’t look away. Instead, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
The music in the bar shifted to something with a pulsing beat, and a few people from the shift immediately dragged you out toward the cramped dance floor.
Jack stayed at the table, but he didn't join the conversation around him. His eyes followed you through the lights. He watched the way you moved, the unbothered laugh on your lips, and the way you completely shook off the stress of the past week.
Every second he spent watching you only hammered the realization deeper into his chest.
When a song ended, you made your way back, flushed and laughing. The drinks had fully caught up to you by now, leaving your mind pleasantly fuzzy and your movements a little loose.
Instead of reclaiming your original seat, you slid straight into the tight space right next to Jack.
The moment your hip met his, his hand slid effortlessly around your waist, his palm warm as he pulled you against his side. The warmth of your body radiated through his clothes, and because of the alcohol blurring your usual boundaries, you happily let yourself sink heavily into him, leaning your head back against his shoulder and looking up with slightly unfocused eyes.
"Too much dancing?" he murmured, dropping hus voice so only you could hear him over the bar’s bass.
"Maybe a little," you hummed, a smile playing on your lips. "Or maybe it's the drinks."
"You're a lightweight," he teased softly. As the words left his mouth, he leaned his head down and pressed a kiss right against the bare skin of your shoulder, his lips were warm against your skin.
A shiver ran down your spine, and you let out a soft giggle, shifting even closer until there was absolutely no space left between you. You reached up, your fingers playfully tugging at the lapel of his jacket. "Are you being sweet to me, Jack?"
"I can be whatever you want me to be," he replied without a hint of hesitation, his hand at your waist gently squeezing. He was completely dialed into you, entirely forgetting that you two weren't alone.
Across the table, a few looks were traded. A couple of eyebrows went up. One of the paramedics cleared their throat loudly, a massive smirk spreading across their face.
"Uh, Jack? You want us to leave you two alone?"
Jack blinked, fucking finally remembering the rest of the world existed. He looked up, catching the knowing grins of the entire shift crew staring.
Anyone could see it: the way he was holding you, the softness in his eyes, the absolute focus he had on you. He was totally whipped, and there was absolutely no denying it anymore.
Instead of pulling away or getting defensive, Jack just looked down at you, seeing the faint, beautiful flush on your cheeks. He chuckled, his arm adjusting around your waist.
"Mind your business," Jack said to the table, not a single bit of shame in his voice. "I'm minding mine."
Before anyone could even process his words, Jack turned his head down toward you. His hand slid from your waist up to the nape of your neck, his fingers gently tangling in your hair as he tilted your face up and captured your lips in a deep kiss.
The kiss was deep, slow, and full of all the unspoken words he’d been keeping to himself for months. It was a warm claim that left you completely breathless. He tasted faintly of the beer he’d been sipping, his lips incredibly soft but firm as they molded against yours, demanding a response you were more than ready to give.
The shift went absolutely wild around, cheers and loud whistles erupting from everyone, but Jack didn’t pull back. Instead, he only deepened the kiss.
The sheer excitement of the crew brought a shy heat to your cheeks, and a breathless smile broke across your lips right in the middle of the kiss. Jack let out a chuckle against your mouth, loving the feel of your lips curving against his.
Yielding completely to the fuzzy rush of the alcohol and his touch, you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, burying your fingers in the collar of his shirt. You tilted your head and kissed him back softly, your smile pressing directly into his as you let him completely steal your breath away.
except you’re obsessedddd with him (who isn’t? lol)
this was a request and i hope i did ashton justice!! i also hope you enjoy ittt. idk if it was what you wanted but i tried my best ;-;
𖧷 you and ashton have been dating ever since 5sos5!! he just captured your eyes and you haven’t been able to look away since.
𖧷 watching him grow as a musician? makes your heart so damn proud. especially because he’s literally glowing during the eas era. you tell him how proud you are of him every damn day.
𖧷 okay but this man is equally obsessed. his song lose you is 100% about YOUUUUUU. and he will sing an acoustic version to you while you slow dance during every lazy saturday morning while the bacon is actively burning on the stove (someone should definitely go save it before it turns to a crisp)
𖧷 he has THE hottest morning voice. makes you wanna kiss his throat and thank his vocal cords haha.
𖧷 you guys loooove going on midnight cruises together. him at the wheel with the top down, blowing through his mousy brown curls. you’re so damn enamored by the sight that it makes him blush deep down.
𖧷 i mean, let’s be for real. he never really imagined someone loving him like this. he’s soooo lucky to have you :(
𖧷 you’re allllways posting him. especially when he’s rehearsing on the drums. as his gf you’re literally keeping the ashton lane girlies fed because you post so many photos of him.
𖧷 you looove sitting on his lap as he plays the drums. (wink wink)
𖧷 you’re at every show always wearing shirts that say one of the following: “i kissed the drummer” / “i <3 the drummer” / “save a drum, bang a drummer” (he always smiles when he sees your outfit!)
𖧷 lowk… i think you’d have a heart locket of your picture and his picture so when you close it you guys kiss. this necklace legit never comes offff
𖧷 you’re obsessed with his hands (we ALL are). every time you guys are sitting idly you’re either holding his hand or pressing the palm of his hand against your cheek. OR you’re kissing them hehe. sometimes when he’s teasing you he’ll just put his whole hand over your face. “you goofball.” / “heeyyyy!!”
𖧷 sometimes you’ll try on his tank tops and he’ll laugh at how big they are on you.
𖧷 can’t drum? it’s okay, he’ll at least teach you how to spin the sticks (and man, you get so hypnotized every time you watch him it’s kind of hard to learn)
𖧷 your song with him is stupid song by olivia rodrigo. you’d sing to him while he drums along (which i think the drums are sooo ashton coded). in the car, in the kitchen, wherever! the minute the song starts to play the world becomes your stage as you two begin to duet.
𖧷 yes, he’s the funniest guy ever and you’re always finishing his punchlines. you two build on each others’ jokes that whoever is around lowk gets sooo sick of you guys being so cute and funny.
𖧷 that means you guys DEFINITELY have inside jokes. you get him in a way no one else does… that sometimes your conversations together sound like gibberish to others.
𖧷 you’re allllways touching his hair. fixing it, running your fingers through it, braiding it… you just think his hair smells so good (and it’s sooo soft)
𖧷 you’re like 24/7 tracing his tattoos and he loves it. makes him wanna get more.
There is no drug on earth that can replicate the absolute euphoria of hitting a writing flow state at 2:00 AM. You aren’t even typing anymore. You are a vessel. You are a channel for the gods. The characters are speaking directly into your brain and you’re just the stenographer trying to keep up. You feel like you could fight a bear. You feel like you invented the alphabet
we need a full grwm pre show makeup routine from luke. he’s the only dude out there doing a full face to go onstage like the pop diva that he is and we need to appreciate that more
proscenium, parabolica, and other paradoxes @callsigngreyhound - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
prguitarman
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
gracieabrams
kianamaiart
izzy806
dailybridgerton
romaincrisis
