lex

tumblr girl in her silly writing world

[tapesfrom1980]

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teenage girl who spends way too much time on tumblr .ೃ࿐ mentally in the slytherin common room with lorenzo berkshire <3

requests are always open!!

PERCY JACKSON & THE OLYMPIANS MASTERLIST

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

LIFE IS STRANGE MASTERLIST

DREAM SMP/MCYTS MASTERLIST

[dracarysdream]

“and then there were no new posts in the _____ x reader tag”

[slut4cardan]

screaming crying throwing up

[angelbabymikaa]

“potentially mature content” yeah that’s my pervert friend i hope it’s mature content that’s what i followed them for

[dearlizzies]

finally finding a masterlist with the characters ur interesed in and click in one // “None yet”

[chars4u]

I MISS FLUFFY FICS EVERYTHINGS SMUT NOW💔

[tapesfrom1980]

someone reblogged my latest walker post and said “yes, take me to burgers and milkshakes walker” and i havent stopped laughing since

[atticuswastaken]

getting 100k likes on any other social media: oh, nice.

Vs getting 300 notes on Tumblr: oh god what a rush. I think I’m famous. Is this was fame feels like? I really made it in life!!!

[spencersmopbucket]

a jack in the deck | jack wilder

pairing: jack wilder x reader summary: you and jack were a classic example of toxic exes -- people who couldn't stay together but couldn't stay away. one way or another, you always ended up back in his arms, and then on a flight back to where you belonged the next morning. today is different though. jack walks in on a dinner date in your apartment. and of course, he's totally jack about it. themes & warnings: JACK WILDER is a warning in his own bc youll end up pregnant over the internet, jealousy, slight yearning, argument and swearing, jack being an ass, toxic exes is like my fav trope, spice but not quite smut, angst if u squint with resolution!!!

you knew deep down that this would be a fruitless attempt.

your date was cute, yes. he had exactly what you would've looked for years ago. blonde hair, blue eyes, a sharp jawline and muscular arms. he was respectful (he'd agreed for your first date to be at your apartment because of your hesitancy), he made you laugh, he did everything right. and he wanted you. you could tell. it was obvious in the way that he gravitated towards you, made you his priority in every time he was in your presence. in reality, he was perfect.

too perfect, unfortunately. this wasn't the first time you'd tried this. and every time, your mind flicked straight back to jack.

you envisioned the dark curls instead of the blonde. the deep brown eyes instead of blue. and jack definitely wasn't perfect, so perfect rubbed you the wrong way, as much as you wished it didn't. jack wore a watch with a black leather strap. bradley's (your date's) was all silver. jack smelled like cedar and something dark, mysterious, and pleasant. bradley smelled like clean linen and citrus. regardless, you tried to smile in his face and act like you weren't comparing him to your ex boyfriend in every waking moment.

for your date, you wore a strapless dress and minimal silver jewelry, something bradley had bought you and gifted you before he'd even asked you out. you worked with him at your corporate desk job, the job you'd decided to take after leaving the horsemen behind (and attempting and failing to leave jack behind). he didn't know jack wilder existed beyond the magic shows he heard about that he never attended.

bradley didn't like magic. he preferred realism.

and here he was, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you prepared him a plate of what you'd cooked together. his citrus cologne hit you hard, and his skin was cool. to be honest, it felt wrong. but you tried to flourish.

"y'know, you'll make someone a really good wife someday." he murmured in your ear, a grin on his dimpled face.

you scoffed inwardly. forcing a smile, you gave him a side glance.

"i hope i'm more than that." you chuckled, handing him his plate.

bradley just laughed, a smooth, easy sound that should have been charming. "of course you are! i just mean.. this. you're so put-together. a great job, this amazing apartment, and you can cook? you're a total package." he said it like he was reading from a checklist of desirable traits, his blue eyes sparkling with approval that felt more like an assessment than adoration.

you led the way to your dining table, the candles that had been lit flickering and casting soft shadows. it was a scene from a movie, one you'd tried to direct a couple of times now. the elegant dinner, the handsome suitor, the promise of a normal, stable life. a life without heists, police sirens, or the heart-pounding thrill of watching jack wilder perfectly execute a trick that stole from thousands.

a life without him in general.

"so," bradley began, cutting neatly into his chicken. "the quarterly reports are finally done. thank god. i was starting to see spreadsheets in my sleep."

you nodded, taking a sip of wine. "tell me about it. my eyes are still crossed."

this was it, the conversation of the life you were supposed to want. it was safe, clean, predictable. and with every word about corporate synergy and weekend golf plans, a little piece of your soul chipped. you were completely and utterly bored. you missed chaotic, nonsensical arguments about the best way to palm a stolen keycard, whispered debates in the back of a van. but you didn't miss it when it was happening. so, you suffered. did you even really know what you wanted?

"you're quiet tonight," he noted, tilting his head. "everything okay?"

"just tired," you lied smoothly, another skill you'd honed before you'd ever met him. "it's been a long week."

he reached across the table, his hand covering yours. his skin was smooth, grip firm and certain. "well, i'm glad i'm here to help you unwind." his thumb stroked your knuckle. it was a gentle gesture, but it felt misplaced. like he was stamping his clean-linen-and-citrus reality onto you. the reality was suddenly incredibly heavy. but then again, you'd asked for this.

you forced another smile, your heart a trapped bird beating agains the cage of your ribs. "me too," you said, the words tasting like ash.

as bradley took another breath to speak some more corporate words, you heard a rattling. it chilled your spine, like ice cold water being thrown over you in a bucket. you knew this sound. it was the sound of a torsion wrench and a pick, moving with a practiced, impatient rhythm. the sound of jack wilder picking a lock. breaking in, like he had time and time before. Just never into your apartment before now.

what the fuck?

"uh--" bradley began, standing from his chair, his brow furrowed in confusion. "is that... your door?"

before you could form a lie, a denial, or a plan, the deadbolt clicked over with a final, deafening thunk. the knob turned, and the door swung open as if he owned the place.

and there he was.

jack wilder stood in your doorway, silhouetted by the hallway light. He was dressed in his usual uniform of a dark henley and a leather jacket, his hair a mess of dark curls, his expression a carefully constructed mask of casual arrogance that didn't quite reach his eyes. those deep brown eyes scanned the room in a split second -- the candlelit table, the two plates of food, Bradley standing there in his crisp button-down -- and a slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face.

you cursed over and over in your head. of course. of course he'd pick now to come barreling back into your life. right when you just started (poorly and miserably) figuring things out.

"hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice a low drawl aimed straight towards your chest. he completely ignored the other man in the room. "door was sticking. you should really get that looked at." he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. his presence instantly made the spacious apartment feel claustrophobic.

bradley puffed out his chest, the picture of affronted normality. "excuse me? who the hell are you? and how did you even get in here?"

jack finally deigned to look at him, gaze flicking from his blonde hair to his leather shoes with utter disinterest. "i'm jack," he said, as if that explained everything. a light smirk crossed over his face again. a smirk of mischief.

walking over to you, as if it was nothing, as if he hadn't just not seen you for six months, he lifted your hand by your wrist. he stroked a finger along the back of it, pointing out a fact to bradley. the heat of his touch burned. old memories, an ache in your chest blooming. you tried to loose your wrist from his grip, but he kept you there.

an intricate tattoo was what he intended to show the corporate man. a playing card -- a jack of hearts, the suit cleverly woven into the design of his signature flourish. your shared little secret, inked into your skin -- possessive, reverent. you hadn't paid to get it removed yet. you weren't even sure that you wanted to. you thought it might erase the memory of him.

a cocky air surrounded him, his lip curving even deeper into his signature smirk. "see? jack."

bradley stared, his face a comical mix of confusion and dawning outrage. "what is that supposed to mean?"

"it means," jack said, his voice dropping, losing its playful edge and turning into something low and possessive, "that i was here long before you were," he hummed, his thumb brushing over the tattoo in a gesture that was far too intimate for the setting, "and now i'm back."

he finally released your wrist, but the ghost of his touch remained, a brand. he looked from the tattoo on your hand back to your face, his eyes searching yours, the smirk gone, replaced by a raw, unguarded intensity that stole the air from your lungs.

"you gonna introduce me to your friend?" he asked, the question a challenge, his gaze daring you to lie, to pretend he was nothing.

you glared at him, e/c eyes hot and fiery. you could've burned a hole straight through him if it were possible. the ache in your chest worsened the anger. the audacity of him just threw gasoline all over the flame.

"this," you gestured towards the confused, irritated man before the two of you, "is bradley. my date. which you are currently interrupting."

jack's eyes flicked back to bradley, giving him another once-over that was somehow more insulting than the first. "bradley," he repeated, letting the name sit in the air like it was a joke. "i'm jack. y/n's fiance." he said smoothly, extending a hand to the man. bradley, obviously, declined to shake.

"fiance?" bradley bit out, his gaze turning to you.

"ex fiance!" you hissed. you wanted to strangle jack, to wipe that smug, ignorant smirk right off his face. "we are not engaged."

"semantics, honey," jack said with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if the distinction between being engaged to someone and having been engaged to them was trivial. "we had a little disagreement over the wedding planning. she wanted a big church, i wanted to elope in macau after a high-stakes baccarat game. you know how it is. women."

bradley looked like his brain was short-circuiting. "macau? baccarat? what the hell are you talking about?!"

jack could've glowed. he was so far under bradley's skin that this couldn't possibly be working better. glancing at his watch, he looked back up at the man.

"look, bradley, it's getting late. don't you think you ought to be going? it was great to meet you though."

the last part was definitely a lie. on the inside, jack was seething.

bradley's face flushed a deep, mottled red. he looked from jack's infuriatingly calm face to your furious, conflicted one. the perfect, predictable script of his evening had been torn to shreds. "i'm not going anywhere. y/n, are you going to let him talk to me like this? to just barge in here? he literally broke and entered. that's against the law."

you opened your mouth, but no sound came out. this was the moment of truth. the moment to side with the safe, stable, normal life you'd been trying to build. the life jack didn't want. to finally shut the door on wilder, heists, and dirty money for good.

but jack saw your hesitation. he pounced on it like the predator he was.

he didn't say a word to bradley. instead, he turned to you, voice dropping, losing all its mocking edge and becoming low, intimate, and devastatingly honest.

"tell him to leave, y/n," he murmured, his eyes holding yours, refusing to let you part with them. "or tell me to stay. one of the two."

the challenge hung in the air, thick and heavy as candle smoke. it was the simplest, yet most impossible, choice you'd ever been faced with. or maybe not. the choice to leave jack in the first place rivaled it. bradley stood there, a monument to everything good you should've wanted. and jack was beautiful and destructive -- you were so, so tired of fighting the burn, taming his fire.

your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. you looked at bradley's hurt, confused expression, then back at jack's raw, waiting one.

the words left your lips before you could stop them, like vomit.

"bradley," you whispered, unable to look at him. "i think you should go."

bradley scoffed, sputtering.

"are you fucking kidding me?"

the words were a whip-crack in the tense silence. he stared at you, his face a canvas of disbelief and wounded pride. "after all this? the dinner, the jewelry, the.. this?" he gestured wildly at the set up, now rendered a pathetic farce. "you're choosing a criminal who just broke and entered your aparment, then harassed me?"

jack didn't even flinch. a slow, victorious smile spread across his face, his eyes never leaving yours. you wanted to slap it off him.

"i'll call you. just please leave."

"no she won't." jack intercepted, the infuriating smile still pasted to his face.

"unbelievable." he snapped harshly. he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the pictures on the wall rattled.

the sound of the door slamming seemed to hang in the air, a period at the end of your attempt at a normal sentence.

the second the latch clicked, the smile dropped from jack's face. the victory was gone, replaced by something darker. the raw need you'd seen flickered in his eyes, unchecked.

"you're not gonna call him. what were you even trying to accomplish?" the question was quiet, deadly.

"you don't get to ask me that," you fired back, the anger you'd been suppressing finally boiling over. "you don't get to barge in here, ruin my life, then act like you have any right--"

he crossed the space between you in two swift strides. "i have every right!" he snapped, his voice rough, his hands coming up to grip your arms, not hard, but firm enough to stop you from pulling away. "that tattoo on your hand gives me the right. every night we spent together, even after you left gives me the right. the fact that you just sent mr. perfect packing for me gives me the right."

"you're impossible," you seethed, but you didn't even try to pull away. his touch was like a brand, burning into your skin and awakening every nerve ending. "why are you back here, jack?! what did you come for, huh? after SIX fucking months!"

the question hung between you, a raw, bleeding thing. all the bravado, the smirk, the conman's cool -- it all shattered. his grip on your arms loosened, his hands sliding down until he finally let go of you, opting to run a hand through his messy hair.

"because i can't breathe without you!" the confession exploded out of him, raw and ragged, his voice cracking on the words. "is that what you want to hear? that i'm a fucking mess? that everything is empty, every win is bullshit, because you're not there to see it?" he belted out, eyes desperate and intense. "that i tried -- god, i fucking tried, to be what you wanted, to be normal, but i can't. i'm not. and you won't just ACCEPT ME!"

the silence that followed was louder than his shouting. his chest heaved, the admission hanging in the air like gunpowder smoke. this wasn't the smooth talking thief. it was the boy from the foster system, the boy who felt he didn't belong anywhere, the one who was so terrified of being ordinary that he became a talented legend, and was now terrified that the one person who mattered saw him as a monster.

your anger simmered, borderline dissolved, washed away by a tidal wave of painful understanding. the six months of silence wasn't him moving on. it was him trying and failing to become someone else, someone you'd approve of. and failing miserably.

"jack.." you started, your voice soft.

"don't," he cut you off, his voice a broken whisper. he wouldn't look at you now, staring at a spot on the floor as if it held all the answers. "just.. don't. tell me to leave. tell me to go fuck myself, i don't know. but don't pity me. i can't stand it."

you exhaled shakily, staring at his slumped figure, his head in his hands at your kitchen table where bradley had been sitting 15 minutes ago. "i don't pity you," you whispered, the words firm and clear. "i see you. i've always seen you. you're brilliant, you're wild, and you're so much more than that if someone looks deeper. but you can't change yourself. you can't try to be anything other than who you are."

he looked up, his eyes dark pools of pure, unadulterated torment. "so tell me, y/n. what do you want me to do? because i can't do another six months. i can't do six fucking days more of this. i don't want to sleep together and get back on a plane tomorrow morning because you think i'm a mistake." he huffed, eyes beginning to gloss over. your chest ached. you wouldn't be able to handle it if he cried. "so either you tell me to walk out that door and never come back, and i'll spend every day of my life trying to forget you, or.. or you let me stay."

he was laid bare before you, no tricks, no lies. just jack. the hungry, broken, impossibly brilliant boy he was, and always would be. your greatest addiction and the only place you'd confidently called home. a tear dripped from the gathering moisture in his eye, trailing down his cheek. it felt like a personal, isolated hit to your heart.

you crossed the space between you, the world narrowing to the sound of his ragged breathing and the sight of that single, devastating tear. you didn't speak. words had failed you both for far too long. instead, you knelt in front of him, your hands coming up to cradle his face.

your thumbs gently wiped the moisture from his cheeks. his eyes, wide and shocked, searched yours, his breath catching in his throat. you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead, a seal of forgiveness and acceptance that you never thought you'd reach. the two of you were too stubborn.

then, you pressed another kiss to his damp cheek, a promise. finally, you brought your lips to his, not with the frantic heat of your past, but with a slow, deep certainty that felt more binding than any failed vow. when you pulled back, your forehead rested against his.

"stay," you breathed, a final surrender and a new beginning all at once. one you'd been begging for in other men, corporate jargon, leather shoes and new york department stores. "no more planes, unless we're both on them. no more goodbyes. just stay."

a shuddering sob escaped him, and he collapsed against you, his arms wrapping around your waist and face buried into your chest. he held onto you like a man clinging to a lifeline in a stormy sea.

"okay," he rasped, his voice muffled against your skin, grip tightening. "okay. thank god."

as you held him, surrounded by the ruins of what you thought you wanted but truly never did, you knew you'd chosen right. you weren't taming him. you were standing next to him, giving him the love and respect he'd never gotten before you, and receiving his endless, fiery love back.

two weeks later

the city air was a crisp, welcome change from the stuffy, recycled air of the various venues you and jack had been haunting. your hand was tucked securely in his, his thumb tracing absent-minded circles over your knuckles. more specifically, over the substantial, art-deco inspired diamond now sitting back on your ring finger. it felt less like a piece of jewelry and more like a reclaimed piece of your soul.

"told you that italian place was overrated," jack mused, a smirk in his voice. "the chef was palming pre-grated parmesan. amateur."

you laughed, shaking your head. "shut up, wilder."

"make me," he countered, pulling your hand up to press a quick kiss to the jack of hearts tattoo, his eyes glinting with possessive warmth.

and that's when you saw him. bradley. he was standing outside a coffee shop, phone to his ear, looking every bit the part of the life you’d almost condemned yourself to. jack's steps faltered for a fraction of a second, his entire posture shifting. the relaxed, post-lunch contentment evaporated, replaced by the coiled-spring energy of a predator spotting easy prey. a slow, wicked grin spread across his face.

"oh, look. its brad," he said, his voice dripping with cheer.

"jack, no," you groaned, but it was too late. he was already steering you directly into bradley's path with a fervor.

bradley looked up from his phone call, his eyes widening as they landed on you, then on the nightmare jack wilder was, and finally, inevitably, on the glittering rock on your left hand. his jaw went slack.

"well, hey there, bentley! long time no see," jack said, his tone impossibly bright. the misname made it even more insulting. he didn't stop walking, forcing bradley to take a step back or be bowled over. as he passed, jack's free hand shot out with the speed of a striking snake. it wasn't an aggressive shove, but a deft, practiced flick of the wrist.

bradley fumbled, his coffee cup popping out of its sleeve and splattering liquid all down the front of his pristine, light-gray pants.

"whoops! clumsy me," jack said without breaking stride, not even looking back. he leaned in close to your ear, his whisper a hot, triumphant caress. "looks like he's got a little excitement in his life now, after all."

you glanced over your shoulder briefly. bradley was staring down at the massive stain on his pants, phone forgotten about, a picture of utter, flustered humiliation. as you turned back to jack, you watched him open a sleek, black wallet in his hand. not his. bradley's license photo glared at you grumpily.

you stopped dead, your eyes widening. "jack. when did you--"

"about two seconds before the coffee decided to take a walk." he said with a wicked grin, flipping through the cash compartment. he made a show of pulling out the bills. "let's call it a dry-cleaning fee. a very, very small one." he then snapped the wallet shut and, without another pause in an incredibly quick motion, sent it sailing sideways into a nearby city trash can without even looking at it. the thunk was barely audible over the street noise.

he tucked the cash into his pocket and laced his fingers back through yours, the cool metal of your engagement ring pressing between them. "our dessert is on bradley tonight. and, you know.. his coffee is on him too."

he was the worst. he was a criminal. a menace.

and as he pulled you into a searing, messy kiss, tasting of victory, italian food, and stolen cash, you knew you wouldn't want him any other way.

[tapesfrom1980]

guys i’m rereading my old posts HOWWWW WERE YG READING THOSE FICS OMGGGSHHH i’m gonna edit those ASAP

[tapesfrom1980]

Hiii!!! can you please make an imagine about meeting walker for the first time at a premiere or something (lol) and he gives you his blazer cause you’re cold. Love your writing btw!!! Especially your Sean Diaz stuff ❤️❤️❤️

(idk I thought it was a cute thought 😔💔)

wildest dreams | walker scobell x reader

OMG STOP THIS IS SO NICE<3 the fact that you know both my sean and walker stuff is so cute!!!! made my entire day:’)💗

not proofread cus im a pussy + is this too long and dragged out? ive been trying to be more detailed and descriptive!

“OH. MY. GOD”

y/n turned around, startled, at the sound of her bestfriend’s yell behind her.

“y/n, you look beautiful!” dior rushed to her side, as well as her heels would let her, and squealed. y/n laughed as the curly haired girl tackled her in a hug.

“you don’t think it’s too much?” y/n shyly ruffled her dress. to be honest, she was worried she was doing entirely too much. after all, she wasn't exactly that known.

it was the premiere night of her debut film, which she had the opportunity to work alongside her bestfriend dior. y/n had dreamed about this moment for months now, but still felt a variety of emotions through her as she finished getting ready.

she wanted to ask someone to pinch her, just to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

“are you kidding me? you look perfect!” dior gushed at her. “you’re gonna blow them away.” y/n laughed but squeezed her hand in appreciation. suddenly her nerves were starting to ease and her stomach was bubbling with excitement. this was everything she had wanted.

“oh and you look gorgeous. like i can’t believe you’re not a model instead.” y/n teased half jokingly as dior gave her a spin in her red dress giggling.

dior suddenly stopped and held y/n’s shoulders firmly but still gentle.

“you, WE, are gonna have so much fun tonight. i know it might be overwhelming but you should be proud and happy that you’re there tonight!” she reassured. “plus, you’ll get to meet my PJ friends! they’re gonna love you and i hope you love them just as much.” dior gave her the biggest grin.

right. it slipped her mind that dior had invited her friends from Percy Jackson. she had no issues with them, she hardly even knew them. however, it made her feel small. she didn't exactly invite anyone, given that dior was her closest friend, yet it seemed like everyone already had somebody. she had been thinking about how dior would be surrounded by her friends, leaving her in the dust.

of course, she knew it was silly of her. dior had never intentionally left her out when there were others nearby. she blames it on the nerves. she shook the thought away and squeezed dior's hands.

"lets do this,"

-

y/n's heart pounded as the car pulled into the premiere. immediately she noticed the paparazzi and the flashing lights, with some of her cast members already arriving. she suddenly felt out of place and anxious, despite promising herself she was going to have fun.

dior, noticing her nerves, grabbed her hand. "hey, you're okay. the anxiety is completely normal. I think id be more worried if you weren't nervous." she teased. "don't think about it, just let yourself go. the scariest part is the beginning. I'll be right there the whole time."

y/n nodded in appreciation, she knew she was right. she had worked so hard for this, she needed to relax. she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"are you ready?" dior looked at her with a reassuring smile as the bodyguard outside gave them a signal that he was going to open the door. y/n, nerves and all, nodded her head firmly.

the door opened, and suddenly flashing lights from every direction were blinding her eyes. she knew this was a highly anticipated film, but this wasn't what she was picturing at all.

after adjusting to the lights and camera clicks, she got out of the car. "three steps behind you babygirl." dior whispered. y/n fixed her hair and put on her best smile. before she knew it, she and dior were walking side by side along the red carpet.

she took her friend's advice and kept walking, making sure to look to the side and smile here and there. after what felt like forever, they had made it to the front. by now, she felt a rush of adrenaline course through her. she felt as if she drank a gallon of red bull.

"girls, a picture together please!" someone with a camera shouted. y/n gladly posed alongside dior, grinning in a way she knew she would regret when she saw the photos. she didn't care in the moment, she was so happy as she realized that she was here in the place she had dreamed for so long about with one of the people she loved most.

dior engulfed her in a hug as they laughed and squealed, they were really here.

shortly after, y/n found herself posing with her other cast mates. she had gotten so caught up in her anxiety she forgot she had everyone else here for her too. some of them had been as equally as anxious, yet she would've never known.

just before she could get lost in her thoughts, dior once again approached her with a big smile.

"hey! my friends just got here and I wanted to introduce you guys!" the curly haired girl grinned, but y/n noticed the mischief glint in her eyes. she could recognize that look anywhere, and it made her nervous.

"come, come!" without waiting for a response, dior dragged her to a different spot in excitement. that's when she noticed them, the PJO cast.

leah, aryan, and walker stood there talking amongst themselves. y/n's breath caught in her throat as their heads turned towards her. someone in particular, however, caught her eye.

she had heard of walker scobell before, having watched PJO and the adam project. she had never seen him in person, and she was just now realizing how attractive he was. she had voiced to dior before that she thought he was cute, but seeing him in person was totally different.

he was pretty tall for his age, and his bulk for the newest season of PJO was evident. his curls were just slightly above his eyes, and she noticed how he moved them out of his eyesight here and there. his smile was bright and charming, and she cursed fans for being so right about how adoringly handsome he really was.

she had never seen someone suit their features so perfectly before.

"guys, this is my best friend Ive been telling you about! y/n, these are my really talented friends!" dior gushed as they merged into a bigger group. y/n gave them all a warm smile, trying to calm down her heartbeat racing.

"its really nice to meet you guys, I've heard so much." she shyly admitted. leah was the first to step up to give her a hug.

"I'm leah, and you are GORGEOUS! we've heard so much about you too! thanks so much for having us!" she grinned as she gave y/n a gentle squeeze as they pulled away.

"yeah, congratulations on the film by the way, I can't wait to watch it!" aryan commented as he gave y/n a cheeky smile. y/n grinned, suddenly feeling very silly for her previous anxiety. she had severely underestimated just how welcoming they were.

when she got to walker, she could feel her heart physically skip a beat as he engulfed her in a hug. he smelled like fresh laundry and cologne, yet the smell didn't overwhelm her nostrils like most colognes. his curls ticked the side of her face, and his hand on her back made her realize just how close they were.

the hug lasted about two seconds longer than the other ones did, and y/n could tell by the look on dior's face she had noticed it too, the mischievous glint back in her eyes. y/n internally groaned.

"we're really excited to be here, I know I've definitely been waiting for this release." walker admitted. "you look really nice by the way." despite how casually he said it, it was hard to miss his hands fidgeting. y/n bit her lip to hide just how big her smile was.

"thank you guys so much, you're all so sweet! i'm really happy you could make it. seriously." she was so giddy she thought she was going to explode right then and there.

"okay guys, group pics come on!!" dior clasped her hands together and smiled as she signaled for the group to position themselves in the front. y/n stayed back, wanting to let them have their moment together. after all, she wasn't technically part of the group. however, dior wasn't having it.

"nope, you're coming too." is all she said before intertwining their fingers and taking y/n to where the others are. y/n laughed and shook her head.

"d, its fine, I swear. have your own pictures first. i'll join right after." dior pouted at this, but compromised. she watched as the group took their place in front of a paparazzi, lights and clicks going off.

"hey y/n, this is your premiere too, come over here!" walker half shouted over the noise of the crowd. y/n looked at him in surprise as the photographer waved her over in a hurry as if to say come on, we don't have all day!

dior gave her a knowing look, waving her over as well. y/n took ahold of her dress and walked towards the group, going towards dior's direction before she stopped her.

"hey y/n go next to walker, that way we're evened out." she wiggled her brows, and y/n internally cursed her out. she wanted to go back in time and stop herself from telling dior about her innocent crush on her castmate.

"oh yeah, come over here." the blonde boy extended his arm to put over her shoulder. she gave him a tight lipped smile, but nonetheless let him embrace her shoulder. she could feel dior's smug stare.

"alright look over here guys!" y/n smiled at the camera, buzzing as walkers hand gently gripped her side.

"thank you, that's all!"

y/n let go of a breath she didn't know she was even holding in. she looked at walker for a second, and he gave her a shy smile before letting go of her side. she made sure to return the secret smile before everyone broke apart and started walking away, as they were ushered inside for the screening.

dior returned to her side, poking her side and smiling ear to ear. "you thought I forgot, didn't you?" she whispered as they walked side by side. y/n almost rolled her eyes, her face warming.

"I don't exactly know what you're referring to." she crossed her arms, suddenly missing walker's touch as the cool air hit her. dior rolled her eyes.

"I know you know. and I also know he feels it too." y/n snapped her head to look at her. "what are you talking about?" excitement bubbled in her stomach.

dior gave her a grin. "he's asked me about you a ton, I finally got him to admit he thinks you're pretty. he got a new suit just to come here." she whisper-shouted. y/n bit her lips to hide the smile that was forming.

"are you serious?"

"dead."

y/n looked at her speechless. they had just gone in the screening room, leaving her to swallow her words. the group walked down the aisle, aryan leading, leah following with walker close behind her. dior pushed her to go behind him, and then following y/n herself.

when they sat down, y/n had (thankfully) ended up in the middle of dior and walker. she caught a glimpse of leah and dior smirking at each other, and she realized everyone but her and walker were in the loop.

she shook her head in amusement to herself, arms still crossed as she shivered. she now wished she had listened to her agent when she warned her it might be a little chilly instead of pridefully declaring she could handle it.

walker, however, must've noticed. he started taking off his blazer.

"hey, are you cold? you've been shivering ever since we came in." he gently whispered as he took his blazer in his hands. y/n looked at him in surprise.

"yeah, but I can honestly handle it. I wouldn't wanna pester you at all." she laughed. walker however, didn't. he extended his arm more.

"I have another layer under this, I don't need it. I'll feel worse seeing you shiver for the next two hours." y/n smiled at his genuine generosity. she thought about what dior said before.

"okay, thanks walker. that's really sweet of you." she squeezed his arm in appreciation, pretending like her heart wasnt slamming against her chest as she put on the blazer. she could smell the scent she did before, especially his cologne. it made her giddy to think how she was wearing his jacket that smelled just like him. she tried to calm her thoughts down, suddenly feeling like a giddy schoolgirl.

"don't even mention it." he gave her his signature smile.

she didn't even want to look in her friend's direction right now, already knowing what she was going to say.

"hey, after this we were talking about getting some burgers and milkshakes, you should come." he whispered again from beside her, hands fidgeting with his sleeves.

"I would love to." she replied, just as the lights turned off. even in the dark, she could picture his smile.

what a night.

[campmiasmas]

“It was a devil and an angel tattoo. It said something underneath: Serendipity. I really loved the idea of being in this quite formal priest uniform with the dog collar — and there’s this little bit of his past creeping up. That is how Father Jud is attempting to be this version of himself. He’s not denying his past, hence he still has the tattoo. But that anger is still there.” — Josh O'Connor (x)

[todaysretro-deactivated20260316]

I miss ST3 summer era😭😭 My shaylas🥲💜

[xoxochb]

I’m fucking crying 😭😭😭

[abedmmajed-42]

The War Is Almost Over… but Our Struggle to Rebuild Has Just Begun.

Every day here in Gaza feels like a year carved into our chests. The war isn’t like it was in the early days—the sky is quieter, the air carries less smoke, and the nights hold fewer explosions. But the pain… it still lives under the rubble, inside our memories, and in the empty spaces where our loved ones once stood.

I’m writing this today not because the war has completely ended, but because for the first time in a long while, it feels like the horizon is opening a little. A small space where we can breathe, gather ourselves, and try to rebuild what’s left of our lives. Yet every step forward feels like walking on wounded memories, and every stone from our destroyed home whispers stories we never got to finish.

We lived through nights so heavy we thought morning would never come. We lost things that can never be replaced—homes, dreams, pieces of our hearts. But we are still here… holding on, trying, fighting to stay standing despite everything.

And in the middle of this long road… there is a house. A house that once carried laughter, warmth, noise, and life. Today, all that remains is an image holding a memory—and rubble longing for the people who once lived inside.

Today, we are trying to rebuild—not just the walls of a house, but an entire life that was shattered. We are trying to create a new beginning, to live with dignity again, to give our family a sense of safety that we’ve been missing for so long.

We’re not writing this to mourn what was lost, but to ask for a chance to start again. We ask for your support because rebuilding after a war is not something one person can do alone—it is a human effort, a shared act of compassion. We need you. We need your hearts. We need your help to stand again.

Abedmajed’s Hope: Rebuilding Our Family’s Life in Gaza

My name is Abedmajed Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with what remains of my once large and loving family.

Because Gaza has no working banking system, we use my brother U.S. Stripe account to safely process donations for our family. Nothing is hidden — every dollar goes where it should. We are ready to show proof of anything, at any time.

Every contribution—no matter how small—makes a difference. It becomes part of our story, part of rebuilding a home, part of reviving a life that nearly faded.

The war may be almost over… but our journey back to life begins now.

🌿✨ Thank you to every soul who still feels our pain, and to everyone who reaches out a hand to help us rise again.

[aphroditeinthesea]

me when im reading a fic and see my reflection on the screen

[bebx]

happiness can be a small thing. thank you tumblr for giving us this little guy ☃️

[xoxochb]