#but I was trying to make a relatable post about a feeling I’ve had lately

[universe-of-peoples]

Does anyone else on the aroace spectrum ever feel like

I’m in my twenties and I WANT these big epic romances I see in movies and tv and books and even in my social circles but

I literally feel no attraction to anyone

Like I feel like I’m missing out on this life experience but I can’t help it

[moonstruckme]

hiii!! i love your writing so much i think i’ve read every single thing you’ve ever posted. i’m genuinely obsessed 🫶🫶 i was wondering if you could write something where the reader and remus have been dating/talking for a little while and she hasn’t had her first kiss yet and she starts to get nervous everytime she thinks he’s abt to kiss her and she runs away?? i’m ngl this is based off of very real events in my life 😭😭

i love you so much!! hope your doing amazing

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! This is soooo relatable of you haha, I have a library of hilarious stories about my very hyper friend who kept literally springing away from guys she liked who were trying to kiss her, but it does make for some very interesting (and often very sweet) conversations!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

On your first official date with Remus, the two of you went to a drive-in movie. You kept your seatbelt on the entire time. 

You only realized halfway through, mentally kicking yourself for being so jittery you’d lost all sense of normalcy, but by then it felt too late. It’d be awkward to take it off halfway through the movie, try to play that off as casual. You’d made your bed. You didn’t unbuckle until Remus dropped you off at your house at the end of the night. 

On your second date, you’re determined to be less uptight. You want him to know that you really do like him, even if your nerves make you jump and flinch whenever he gets close. At the Italian restaurant, it’s difficult to find a pasta dish without garlic, but you manage it. You’re a girl with an agenda. The two of you split a chocolate cake for dessert. It’s delicious, probably, though you can’t focus on much besides Remus’ story and the way his mouth moves as he tells it. How he tucks one corner of his bottom lip between his teeth when he’s trying to hide a smile. 

You have to hope belatedly that you haven’t somehow smeared chocolate all over your face while eating. You’re not at all confident you would’ve noticed. 

It’s a short walk back to your place, and you manage to jabber the whole way, a masterclass in self-sabotage. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, his hand light and cordial on your back as he guides you up the steps to your door. You savor the touch. It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to spring away. 

“It sounds really interesting,” he says graciously as you finish your tangent about the book you’ve just read. “I’ll have to pick up a copy.” 

“I can lend you mine,” you offer. “Maybe I can bring it the next time we hang out?” Your voice tips up hopefully at the end of the question, and warmth touches your cheeks. 

A similar pinkening spreads across Remus’ freckles. He smiles at you, the scar across his lip stretching. You’re spellbound. 

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You might be imagining it, but you could swear his eyes flit to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says. “I really like talking to you.” 

Your voice is soft. “I like talking to you, too.” 

He takes a step towards you, and it’s like your muscles stage a coup. You take an involuntary step backward, a smile plastering itself uncomfortably on your face. 

“Thanks for everything,” you say brightly. “Goodnight!”

You spin and go for the door handle, and you’re nearly inside before you hear Remus’ quiet “Wait.” 

You turn. Lead in your bones. 

Remus is holding his palms up as if to show you he’s got no weapon. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I just wanted to…you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to, right?” 

You’re frozen stiff. 

“Like, even if I thought there was a chance you didn’t want to, I would never…” He shakes his head, looking lost. Guilt settles like a stone in your gut. “I guess I’m a bit confused. If you don’t want to do anything, that’s completely fine, but sometimes it seems like you want me to kiss you, and then you don’t…” 

“Rem,” you say. You feel like you’re breathing through a straw. “Remus, I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart, it’s not your fault—” 

“No, it is. It’s not—I don’t want you to think I’m scared of you or anything. I’m not, it’s just, I get skittish.” You can’t make yourself look at his eyes, your gaze stuck just shy of his chin. Your face feels aflame. “It’s not you. I’m just nervous.” 

“Oh.” It’s a soft thing, more exhale than anything. Then his fingers curl under your chin, tipping your face up. “Well, you can relax, love. I was never going to make a move unless I got a clear signal from you first. But we can just take that off the table completely, if you’d like.” He gives you a small, gentle smile. “I only want you to feel comfortable.” 

Your heart zings right up into your throat. “I do feel comfortable,” you blurt. “I don’t want it off the table.” 

Remus’ eyebrows flick upwards. “You don’t?” 

“No,” you murmur, bashful. 

His eyebrows come slowly back down, puckering slightly as he tries to figure you out. His eyes narrow until his lashes kiss. His tongue pokes into his cheek, just a little. You miss nothing. You find yourself taking in a quiet breath, steeling yourself. 

You move across that tiny bit of air between you and find him there waiting.

It’s everything you could’ve hoped for and yet startlingly simple. Remus’ lips are warm and soft, pressing into yours with an intensity that you suspect is nonetheless restrained for your benefit. He tastes like chocolate cake. 

His mouth meanders over to the corner of your lips, granting one quick peck to your cheek before making its way back to the center of your mouth, reverent. He backs away slowly, easing you out of it. 

“Wasn’t really expecting that,” he admits.

“Me neither. Was it alright?” Your voice is a bit breathy. “I’ve never done that before.” 

For a moment, he’s quiet. 

“That was your first kiss?” 

You swallow, rubbing your lips together as you nod. 

“Sweetheart,” he grins, “you’re a natural.” 

A giggle spurts out of you, dizzy with the taste of him and the novelty of it all. “You mean it?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He mimes drawing a cross over his heart. It occurs to you that you both seem infinitely more at ease than you have since dinner. The corner of Remus’ bottom lip goes between his teeth, his cheek dimpling. “I mean, there is something to be said for practice, though.” 

You don’t fight your own grin; it comes out in full force. “Mm, I think I’ve heard something about that. Practice makes…defective, right? Something like that.” 

“C’mere.” Remus rolls his eyes at you, but as his arms wrap around you his smile mirrors yours. 

[undercoverpena]

x. oh, just to be with you

javier peña x f!reader | chapter ten of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: we're back to texts and phone calls. sorrowful!javi, two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. pls don't be mad at me ✨ wordcount: 3k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

He's aware of everything. 

How the porch creaks when he steps on it, the way the back door doesn’t quite meet the frame unless it’s locked. How the wind is knocking something else, far across the tall grass and fence posts.

Right now, his focus is on how his curtains don’t quite close. That they're letting the thinnest crack of moonlight cascade through his room. How the smallest luminescent slither keeps dancing in the breeze, yet it still lands perfectly on the propped-up photo strip on his dresser, highlighting the two of you, as though he hadn't committed them to memory. 

He can’t remember the last time someone had managed to slide around his walls—bypass his common sense and begin weaving themselves into him. Javi also can't remember the last time he wanted something more than a win.

Then came you.

Not that he complains that you're the exception. He'll never complain when it comes to you. 

Having people close has never been his issue. It’s letting himself fall that he’s forever found hard. He can be a lover who makes a night all about the other; he can be a protector, shielding and doing what is needed. 

It’s the parts after when he feels he clams up. A portion of him constantly weighing up risks, calculating the damage he could cause—either by a choice he could make or others—long before the city that housed Escobar. 

Javi knew his reluctance had stemmed from before he left Laredo, but it was now carved somewhere deeper in him. Something you managed to find with relative ease and cut out of him as if it was nothing. 

All smiles. All radiance and fucking beauty, with a laugh that could make his lips curl even if his bones are aching and his muscles are tired. 

If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that he’s back there, in the hotel room. Because even if you’d never been here, your room is full of him. 

His bag of spilt-out clothes from your time together, slowly letting the scent of your perfume seep out across the room. Your jacket, hung on the closet handle, and the photos and sign you made on his dresser, all perfectly in sight. 

you have nice handwriting  I did try my best, sometimes I get lazy and letters blur together more.  I like how you wrote baby Does this mean I’ve got the whole set now? Cause you like how I say it, how I write it, how I mouth it. 

Even when he had known you’d needed to get some sleep, Javi had desperately wanted to beg you to stay up. Sending back a text here or there, already missing you so much more than he was sure he could handle. 

He felt lovesick. Like the singer in all those songs that make people either stare at a loved one or bite back tears because they lost theirs. Suddenly relating to a sea of them he’s heard on the radio in the kitchen or hummed in the back of his pop’s throat. 

Javi had been happy to see his pops, somewhat surprised he even came out of the house to greet him. But, as soon as his eyes landed on him, he became suddenly more aware of his old man’s age. Noticing the lines on his face, the ones that tell a thousand stories—not all of them he’s sure he’s heard. Curling into the hug he’d barely reciprocated before, unsure how to form the words to thank him for convincing him to go. 

Naturally, he asks about you. 

It’s more of an interrogation if he’s honest. He shows the photos, the ones now on his dresser, watching his pop smile as he continues to answer the array of questions, until he yawns for the tenth time in the space of five minutes.  

“You should get some sleep, Pop.” 

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Javi. Tell me more about your lady.”

Your lady. 

Those two words stand out as if they’ve been illuminated in bulbs, twinkling and shimmering. 

now youre back in reality you sure about us  Never been more sure about anything, baby.  just wanted to check  You’re beginning to sound like me, worrying.  left a mark on me  Think that’s fair, you’ve left a lot on me too. Especially my chest.  

“Tomorrow. Promise. The drive took it out of me.” 

But Javi isn’t tired. 

Somehow, he had suspected he wouldn’t be the moment he watched you leave.

For longer than he cares to number, he's struggled with it. Had developed an unhealthy live-able balance of it when he was working, something he managed to keep as a prize in his return. 

Now, it’s different.

There’s an edge to it. As though he's now having to pay back the stolen sleep he enjoyed when he had been lay with you. When he slept with ease and not struggle. Leaving him feeling now like he’s in a lull, a dream. All aware, not in a daze anymore, noticing things he had never given much attention to before his trip out of town. 

You had been so warm, so soft. His fingers gliding up and down your side, soothing you as much as it was him. But, you slept with ease. Falling almost instantly once you'd stopped talking, a little jolt and a soft sigh punctuating it.

Fuck, he misses you.

Thumb and index pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched shut. Unsure how he's supposed to manage, and cope, until the next chance he gets to see you.

Till he gets to hold you in his arms, stare at your smile as it grows across your face or feels the light tap of your hand when he’s teasing you...

Something ugly curls inside of him. At first, soaked in sadness, before it shakes itself and burns bright with annoyance. Irritation. Anger at how unfair it all is. 

How is it, after all, he’s given up—he’s fallen for the one person not even in his state? A person he had to say goodbye to hours ago, for reasons out of his or their control. 

He almost snorts, unsure if it’s due to the tiredness or the reality that after all he’s faced, life would continue to be cruel and deal him such a hand. Tempted to get up, kick off the sheets and pull out the crossword from before he left town.

Javi doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes, shaking his head—to no one but himself. Because he can't do them without you now. A promise, one given with ease.

He hears the whisper of the wind, the rustle of the trees. Something needling at him that if he wasn't so broken, this would be the perfect amount of quiet to fall asleep to.

Now, it's not the loud of a Colombian city he misses now. It's how your leg slides over his, how your breaths feel on his chest—how you twitch, ever so slightly, as you first fall asleep. 

But, it’s the quiet as to why he hears his phone vibrate, practically darting out of bed, knowing it can only be you. 

why aren’t you asleep?

Because I can't sleep without you. Apparently.

I miss you too. 

I really hate this. I even miss you digging your knee into my hip. 

told you that you’d miss it once it was gone

I feel like telling you that you’re right will mean your head will inflate.

youre right

One day, right?

if I could make that tomorrow I would

You really missing me that much? 

not enough words in the world to describe how much, baby 

Gonna make me cry. 

dont cry I can’t wipe them from here 

So not wise for me to tell you I cried the entire flight home. 

did the person you sit next to seem to mind 

They didn’t say anything until we landed. Then promptly told me that I deserved better. 

so they thought you were broken up with 

I think I may have led her to believe that from the amount I was crying. 

fuck you like me a lot 

I like you a regular, normal amount. 

I don’t think I like you a normal regular amount 

That’s the tiredness talking. 

you know it isnt 

I feel the same. I really miss you. 

I miss you too but you should try to sleep you have work tomorrow 

Okay, but so do you! 

ill be fixing a shed or a pen baby you have to deal with people 

go to sleep and then tomorrow we can call as planned 

You’d told him that you suspected the first day would be the hardest.

Not the goodbye (and that had been fucking painful) but the following day when they were apart. 

Javi hates that you’re right. 

It twists inside of him how much he loathes it—grateful that he gets to push some of his anger into repairing the side of the shed. Hammer meeting nail, again and again. Each time with more fury than is needed, only worrying after whether he’s done more damage to the shed post than pre. 

"Mijo."

He doesn't find a judgemental look, but one filled with sympathy.

His pop not quizzing him, just handing him a beer. A cold one, droplets descending down the can, sliding across his palm and down his wrist—attempting to soothe the boiling blood in his veins. 

“It’ll get easier.” His pop tugs his hat down, shielding his eyes, before staring off into the distance. “When me and your mama first began, we couldn’t see each other all the time either.” 

Letting out a sigh, Javi grinds his teeth. A sea of biting comments lathered on his tongue, all set to pounce, to poison. 

Instead, he kicks the ground, swallowing most of them back. “She wasn’t hundreds of miles away, though.” 

“No,” his Pop says, clapping his hand on his back—both for comfort and likely stability. “But we didn’t have landlines, or tha' other thing you do on y’phone. The tapping."

The tapping.

He doesn't snort, even if it sits at the back of his throat. Burying it in the liquid that slides down his throat with ease.

"Come on, ‘need to head into town, and my truck is acting up.” 

Javi doesn’t question it, why he’s the one sliding into the passenger seat of his own truck. 

If he’d thought about it, he’d have asked why the truck was acting up or why Pop was driving instead of him. But he doesn’t—didn’t. Just let it happen, staring off as the shades of grass pass him by, fingers playing with the cap on the can, twisting and twisting it. 

To fill the silence, he rolls the edges of the can around in his hands. Crunching the sides every now and again, making him wince from the noise. 

Then, he finds himself staring at the fingerprints left in the dust from you touching his dash—eyes catching sight of a hair grip on the floor near his boot. 

He’s rolling it in his fingers when they’re back on the road, silence smothering them until he watches his pop turn on the radio. As soon as it springs to life, it becomes desperate to try and cut through it. The broadcaster mumbles about heavy rain and increased traffic, but he’s lost in a sorrow of sadness all cast by the spell of a good week to care. The fog around him making it hard to see the wood through the trees, never mind the hope through the misery. 

“Dios mio. More trucks passing through now since the bridge opened. Y’noticed, mijo? So many.”

“Hmm.” 

Eyes fixed on the grip, the one more worn on one side than the other—imagining your face, the night when he’d watched you take them out, face fresh, one of his tees on your frame. 

Then, because the world isn’t cruel enough, the song changes. The radio playing a game with him now, as well as everything else, as he lifts his head, trying to focus on the road. Hearing the soft thud of his pop’s fingers on the steering wheel, his jaw tightened as the lyrics washed over him. Faintly hearing you humming along with the chorus.

Because he heard the song in the diner with you. 

Heard it on the radio one afternoon, then again in the bowling alley—how it wrapped its tune around the two of you. 

“Heard our song today,” he says, fingers massaging his temple.

He's thankful his pop said he had plans, the quietness settling over the rest of the ranch.

Before he met you, he dreaded the nights he was left alone. His thoughts gearing up, ready to pounce. The minor differences he could have made if he took a step back and stared at the facts, how he should have noticed how deep the corruption was—how much Colombia was taking from him, bit by bit. 

Now, he tries not to grin when his pop says he’s going out.

When he’s left alone, allowed full reign to talk as loud as he wants to you—rather than being huddled near the phone, whispering like a teenager. 

“Our song?” 

“Yeah.” 

Javi can practically hear you smirk. “And how does that go, charmer?” 

He’s not a singer. Not by a long shot, but he does his best. Humming the tune at first, softly singing the words from the chorus until he trails off.

You snort, before you try to muffle it in a cough. 

“You tricked me.” 

“Maybe. But, just because I wanted to hear you sing.” 

Smirking, he pulls the phone from his ear—shaking his head—before replacing it back to hear you add:

“You have a beautiful voice.” 

“Fuck you, baby.”  

Your laugh rips from you, hurtling down the phone right to his soul—making fireworks explode in his chest and warmth kiss his nerves. 

Because now he can imagine what you look like. Likely head thrown back, eyes closed—nose scrunched a little as your hands grip onto something for leverage. 

And it was beautiful. You’re beautiful—your laugh and your smile. Something he feels he should have said long before now. He’s about to rectify that, when he hears it merge into a sniffle—veering into tears and half-suppressed swallows before a noticeable little sob breaks through—as his throat dries instantly, closing. 

Turning, he places his palm on the fall as he tries to keep his chest from tightening. The knot in his chest, the one he suspects is tied to you in some way, constricts, pulling taught around his lungs.  

“I—I miss….”

You sniffle again, louder. “I've been looking forward to this all day,” you whisper, voice catching, words struggling to fall as sweetly as they usually do. “But, is it bad for me to say that phone calls aren’t the same now I’ve had the chance to be with you in person?”

Leaning his forehead against the kitchen wall, Javi wipes his chin. “Took the words outta my mouth, baby.”

He hears you chuckle, almost both heavily and heavenly, before you ask about his day. 

He rambles because it’s easy too. You listen, lapping up every single thing. Hearing about his trip to town, his pop making jokes—trying, desperately, to crack through the mist that had descended. 

“How was yours?” 

Then you sigh, all tight. You tell him about Aish and her interview, before your voice softens as you begin whispering about the prep you’re doing for your interview. He’s about to comfort you, when you continue about the asshole you work alongside has been taken out for lunch by your boss and that you snagged your favourite pair of tights on a desk.

“But, enough about that—guess what I’m wearing?”

Smiling, he bites down on his knuckle, Javi lifting his head, groaning as he tries to think. “All of your clothes at once? Anything else might short-circuit my brain.” 

“Won’t tell you then.” 

“No. Please. Tell me, baby.” 

He hears you move, and is almost sure he can hear you swallow. “You realise that you’re missing something, Javier?” 

Fuck, the way you say his name. How it drips from your tongue. Laced in lust and swirling down the phone line to his brain. 

He quickly tries to think of his washing, the piles he made—the attempted sorting. And it hits him. His eyes widened, head half-lifting, feeling his eye twitch. 

“Fuck—“

“Yes. I’m sat in that. And underwear, of course.” 

“Hermosa…”

His throat is dry, painfully so. Mind arranging an image of you from the days he spent with you. And fuck. 

“Wasn’t sure this shade of pink was my colour, but I was wrong.” 

Jutting his jaw, he closes his eyes—picturing the sight of you. The underwear he’d had the chance to peel off of you, the way it set against your skin—now, accompanied by his shirt on your arms. The buttons are likely undone, showing off more skin than he can currently process thinking about. 

“It’s nice on my skin,” you whisper, all honeyed. “Be better on my floor.” 

Clenching his fist, he bites his lip. “Baby…” 

“Maybe I’ll show you one day.” 

Snorting, he traces his teeth with his tongue. “You better. Now, tell me about the underwear.” 

“Only if you can answer six across. Clue: now.” 

Mouth parting, his jaw rolls to the side, eyes picking a spot on the wall. Thinking. And thinking. 

“Want an extra clue?” 

“An extra? You're spoiling me.” 

He hears you giggle, low and in your throat. “It’s an Italian word. And, ‘I want to see you… blank—“ 

His eyes flick up, a smile spreading. “Pronto.” 

“Correct,” you reply. “Seven words, silenced. You did this to me when you had your mouth on my—“

“Shushed,” he says quickly, fist clenching, trying to stare at the mark on the wall again, and not let the image of you populate in his head. 

“You okay, baby?” 

Gritting his teeth, he sighs. “You’re devious, you know that?” 

“I think it’s your shirt. It’s making me… flirty.” 

Grinning, he turns on the spot, back against the wall—head tilting up, eyes closing. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too….” your tone softer, frayed at the edges. “I’m kinda glad I stole your shirt.” 

“Me too. Means I get to see you to steal it back from you.” 

“Off me.” 

It comes out quickly—purposefully chosen, spilt. 

Frowning, he opens his eyes. “What?” 

“Off me. You’ll have to steal it from my body.” 

Grasping the phone, breathing through his nose, letting out a murmured, “Fuck, baby,” under his breath.  

AN: for all those wondering if they'll be together in person again, they will. i am a happily-ever-after kind of writer unless otherwise stated. but it was so important to me that they had a magical week, and then returned to their lives.

[mercurianchild]

hey beautiful,

could you make a post about Venus in 8th house? You’ve mentioned you have this placement and I do too! Thank you very much for your time. 🩷

🖤Venus in the 8th house🖤

TW: mentions of death and s*x

The most common thing I have seen is that this placement (along with scorpio Venus and Venus-Pluto aspects) is s*xualised and glamorised a lot. While it is true, that this placement gives an alluring and interesting aura, it’s not just that. Venus 8th house people have to offer so much more!

A lot of my friends and family members share this placement and we all share one thing: the ability to love so deeply that it hurts. This ability can also turn toxic or even turn into obsession if this placement is underdeveloped.

A lot of 8th housers also stay with people for longer than they should. Most of the times they have outgrown some situations or people, but they refuse to let go because of the feelings they feel. I’ve also been trough that many times. In hope that the spark will come back or that the people involved would change.

A common thing I’ve seen is that it is really hard to let go of people they love. I’ve seen this in friends AND family members that they just can’t let go of certain people where love was involved. For me, it’s still that one guy who I haven’t talked to for 5 months now. In the end, he hurt me. But he showed me what it’s like to be loved. I am still not over him and I know it will take some work to let go of him. With him, I experienced what I envisioned as love between two beings.

Venus in 8th house people are (like other 8th house placements) able to read people like a book. The gut feeling about others is never wrong. Intuition is high.

Could be more into trying extreme and intense things in bed like bdsm or playing with knives. 🔪💀⛓️

Very much into occultism and practising it. All my 8th house friends, for example, are in coven or practices witchcraft. Very into herbs and Hollis tub healing methods.

Which leads to the point that people with this placement are natural healers (if developed).

Natural understanding for psychology. Like really!!! Not just theoretical, but also being able to apply it in real life!

Constantly going through death and rebirth moments in life. A lot of ego deaths will happen.

On the other hand, this placement can bring a lot of hate and resentment from women (no matter if the individual is male or female). A lot of jealousy from other woman which makes it hard to find out who will stab you in the back when you’re not around. This can also lead to trust issues in friendships!

Feeling emotions so intense that it may be difficult to word them. Something that helped me was to find a creative way to let them out. Writing, painting or creating music are wonderful activities.

Red and darker colours look wonderful on these individuals (yes, this can vary depending on the rest of the chart and genetics)

Underdeveloped Venus in 8th house can make someone prone to be a pick me or a real meanie.

Either these individuals had some point of being bullied in teen years or them bullying others.

Constant feelings of so much depth. Whenever I’m around other 8th housers I feel so understood. It’s like a warm hug. We just know what you’re feeling.

I said it before, but the ability to heal… just by being there. Just the presence of these individuals is so intoxicating and loving!

Tend to have very dark humour and make jokes about inappropriate things.

Knack for taboo topics. No fear in discussing them.

Love to keep things private or even a secret. Like being involved in affairs just for the sake of it being a secret thing. I feel like some may enjoy something like that just for the thrill of it.

A lot of secret admirers!!

Can have issues with s*xuality and some may not be s*xually active until their late teen years or early adulthood. From what I’ve seen in friends, read online or even experiences myself, there can be also some unconscious trauma relating to one’s s*xuality.

Last but not least: these individuals are hard to forget, as they carry so much depth, magic and power… once they recognise their potential, it’s over for all them bitches trying to put them down!!

[comicaurora]

Are you willing to make a long personal post about how Math should be presented in an educational environment or in general conversation trying to convince the other participants about its daily usage. How it can advance a person’s problem-solving skills and approach in life.

I’m really good in Mathematics. I’ve given help for my classmates and friends about Math when they are having trouble or ask for it. But I have never been convinced of its importance outside of the classroom, outside of the test papers that gives me the variables to substitute in the given equation of that test of the day.

How can Math and it’s many properties relate back to everyday life in a casual manner?

Hm. Well, as someone who hasn't had to solve an antiderivative in years, my perspective on this is that the most important and widely-applicable skill math can teach you is the stuff behind the math - mostly the muscle-memory you get from proofs.

Math is, at its core, puzzles and logic and pattern-recognition. You learn a set of tools, you practice those tools on a set of simple problems until you get a feel for them, you are presented with a bigger problem, you recall which tools best applied to problems that are shaped like this, you break the problem down using your tools and eventually reduce it to something you know how to solve.

The fact of the matter is, the tools that are specific to branches of math don't really have much widespread use outside pure mathematics, and unless you go out of your way to keep using them you're likely to lose track of them. Studying math is not going to turn you into a super-calculator-wizard who can bounce stuff off the walls at perfect angles and do six-figure arithmetic in seconds, and I think some people feel overwhelmed at the assumption that that's what's expected of them if they learn math, and some other people feel cheated when they learn that that's absolutely not going to happen, because most writers don't know math and when they tell stories with math in them their best guess is it makes you a wizard.

I think the most advanced math I've used lately was trigonometry, and that was just because I was curious about how fast my plane was traveling relative to the sun's apparent movement at my latitude. We were flying back to the US from Iceland and we'd taken off at sunset, and we had been in that sunset for at least an hour by the time I got curious how the math worked out and started estimating our latitude, the circumference of the slice of the earth at that latitude, and correspondingly how fast we were flying vs how fast it was spinning to complete a full rotation in 24 hours. But even if the math involved didn't tap into any of the higher-level stuff I'd learned post-trig, those years doing proofs and figuring out which tools applied to which geometry meant that I could use the tools and my training applying those tools to calculate what I wanted to know, and confirm that our plane was actually outflying the sun when we were at iceland latitude, but as we curved south the sun's apparent relative movement (aka the rotational speed of that latitude of the earth) slowly accelerated until we were falling behind, landing right as the sun finally set. The math involved was high school level, but if I'd been given that problem in high school it would've taken more work and more stress to figure out how the tools I had needed to be applied to the problem I was facing. The years of practice I had tackling much more complicated proofs made the diagnostic process much faster.

I saw someone once analogize studying math to lifting weights. Where am I going to use this in real life? How often will I really be faced with two dumbbells that need to be lifted in three sets of twenty? Where am I going to apply the skill of holding a heavy thing straight out to one side of my body?

You don't lift weights because lifting weights is such a valuable and widely-applicable skillset, you do it because lifting weights makes you better at lifting everything.

You don't study math because math is going to fill your daily life with concepts that you need to prove true for 1 and for n+1 given true for n, or complex solids that you need to sum an approximate volume for, or a surplus of sunset plane flights that demand you calculate a bunch of cosines. You study math because it is the skillset of making things make sense. It trains you to break a huge, incomprehensible problem down into a series of small problems you already know how to solve. It lets you reach true and correct conclusions by starting from facts and transforming them through operations that preserve truth, and correspondingly that if you reach a false conclusion from these methods, then either the methods are flawed or the initial assumption is not as true as you believed. It teaches you to put two and two together and be confident, once you've double-checked your work, that you can say four.

This is stuff I use all the time in both my video research and my freeform writing. Building out a slow picture of how a story was told or changed over time involves finding the context it was created in, and reverse-engineering what parts of that context could have produced what standout portions of the story - what authorial or cultural bias results in this standout story element. Worldbuilding where I take two wildly disparate parts of the world, put them together and see what web of implications springs out of combining them, following the threads to new and interesting concepts that follow from what I've already established. Building a character arc by breaking down exactly what events are happening to them and what transformation each component will apply to the underlying character. If I want the story to go in a certain direction, what transformations do I need to apply to make that happen while still preserving truth? If I'm faced with a seemingly insurmountable problem, what methods can I use to break it down into bite-sized pieces?

This isn't something I think about most of the time. It's just how my brain works at this point, and I can't promise it'd work for anyone else. But thanks to all my years of hard work and training, my brain has been buff enough to solve every problem I've tangled with since graduation, and that feels pretty good.

[eddiessluttywaist]

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 4,752 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, swearing, loneliness, mentions of drugs and crime, mentions of imprisonment, family issues, feeling unwanted, slight bullying, anxiety, nightmares, insomnia, depression, loss and grief, mentions of spit, super brief mention of alcohol and vomit, very brief mentions of breakups and inappropriate sexual relations (nothing reader or eddie are apart of). i think that’s it!

a/n: this is my first attempt at a slow burn series so i hope it’s good! i’m also trying a new setup with photos instead of gifs ^ i’ve seen a lot of other people do it and i think it looks really cool so! also creds to who owns and posted these photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

*

Eddie Munson had grown bitter since you last saw him. To be fair, the last time you saw him was when you were kids but still. You always knew him to be boisterous. Adventurer Eddie. Eddie with the weird ideas and cool drawings. Eddie who made you laugh until your stomach cramped and you would cry out that he was going to make you wet yourself.

You didn’t know it as a kid but even then he couldn’t catch a break from the world around him, and apparently it never stopped spiraling even when it beat him into a hollow shell covered in grease during the weekdays and alcohol—and occasionally vomit—on the weekends. He was worn down by his own worries that never seemed to cease and miserable stories of others admitting things they should’ve never said aloud. Sometimes the stories were fun or at least amusing, but mostly just depressing. This was Hawkins after all.

This wasn’t an Eddie you knew. Had someone told you that man in the garage wasn’t him, you simply would’ve nodded and kept going on your journey to find him.

But it was him, and you were positive he was meant to be back in your life. No matter how much it was hurting right now.

*

You didn’t know why he left at first. It was as if he ceased to exist, and sometimes—when you were all alone at night—you wondered if he had been a ghost. If he had been an imaginary friend, but surely not? He had his own home you hung out in. His own dad who let you guys eat too much junk food and stay up too late. He looked and sounded real when he would scarf down several bowls of honeycomb cereal with those slurping noises you always hated and would whine at him over. He felt real when you would play wrestle—and unfortunately very real when he won and would pin you down while slowly letting a string of saliva stretch down towards your face in an empty threat. He never really did it, but it was gross all the same, and when he’d let up you’d punch his arm as hard as you could.

One day, you asked if your parents remembered him and your father scoffed at the question while he stared at the newspaper, but at least he acknowledged you at all. Meanwhile your mother had all her focus on putting her earrings in and checking her makeup in the small mirror on a wall surrounded by family photos. Those framed pictures felt emptier than the looming threat of Eddie’s spit touching your face.

“Well his father’s a bottom feeder stuck in prison,” your dad flicked his paper to straighten it out again from where it had begun to bow backwards. “And his kid is probably no better. You’ll make other friends.”

You never understood why he was so cold about the loss of your only friend. You’ll make other friends. Yeah right. No one liked you. Everyone made fun of the way you sat idly on swings just to kick on occasion as you focused more on the book in your hands, or the way you’d squat down and give all your attention to a bug in front of you. Either a line of ants that you regarded with pure intrigue because you wondered how they always filed so neatly and did their best to stay together. Sometimes you left crumbs by them just to see if you could watch them pick them up. You’d watch snails and show them the attentiveness and respect you felt they deserved as they slowly trudged along—so determined, you thought. You’d watch butterflies and try to keep track of all the different kinds you saw. A lot of them were small and fluttery with those buttery white wings, but sometimes you saw a monarch and your eyes would grow large with excitement.

You cried when Zachary McKay would stomp on the anthills or teased you about how the French ate snails—something his dad would say was just more proof of how odd Europeans are. They were one of those arrogant “We love our Country!” households with an “I can do whatever I want—America is the land of the free” ideology and it showed in their unbridled and privileged ass of a child. You didn’t inform him that one Spring of the wasp nest that formed on the underside of the slide he frequented. Maybe it was mean, but you were content in silence over on your swing when you heard him crying out in pain one day. He developed a crush on you in high school that dramatically contrasted how he treated you in grade school—and even tried to make a move at Maddi Ecker’s 17th birthday party—but you could only think of the ants and the snails. You turned him down and he was horrible to you again.

You eventually did make some friends, other odds and ends throughout your school, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Eddie. Maybe it was childish and stubborn, but you could feel it deep in your gut that he was one of a kind. So you couldn’t let him go. All those years you ached for your friend who you considered lost. He always came up with wild stories and (when you were still relatively young) you imagined he had become a pirate and was lost at sea. Or became a gunslinger in the Wild West and didn’t draw fast enough. Maybe he went to slay dragons and wound up a burnt crisp of a human. That last one made you cringe the most, but he probably would’ve liked it the most. He loved mythical creatures the way you adored real creatures. By high school you weren’t as naive. You heard about his dad—caught with multiple charges of grand theft auto, a hit-and-run in one of said stolen cars, and dealing drugs. The hard shit. Not weed or shrooms. But the kind of stuff that really ruins lives.

You always thought Eddie had a good home. His dad didn’t hate him the way you were sure your parents hated you, and he had a nice house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but they really didn’t need anything beyond a one story and a sizable basement with only two of them. In hindsight, you supposed he couldn’t find a home in that childhood house anymore than you could with yours. Yours lacked love. His lacked a reliable source of income.

Over time you heard about the night with all the sirens and social workers. The night he turned into a spirit that had finally moved on—an imaginary friend that your growing mind ceased to conjure. He lived with his uncle over in Indiana, rather than your small town in Ohio. Even in your mid twenties, he flashed in your mind like a small blip on occasion and it still twisted your stomach.

You thought of asking if you should go to him whenever you remembered, but you thought you needed a sign. What if you showed up too early? And you messed up any possible grand plans? So you avoided indulging in questions about him to your tarot cards or over your pendulum map. On occasion you caved and just asked a simple question: is he safe? It was a yes every time you broke and just had to check up on him, and the answer reassured you for long enough until the next time the concern rose up to unbearable levels.

But then you started getting those dreams. Sometimes they were just memories playing from deep within the archives of your mind. Sometimes they were nightmares of yelling at someone to go away, only to realize it was Eddie far too late—and when you wanted to run after him to correct the mistake, you couldn’t move as quickly as you knew you were capable of.

It went on for about a month before you finally broke. Your eyes had snapped open, accidentally waking yourself in the middle of saying what you had been shouting to Dream Eddie out loud into your pitch black room. You glanced at the time. 11:11 PM. You felt your heart skip a beat before you shoved yourself out of bed. You had to take a moment to steady yourself against your bedpost from the sudden movement making you dizzy, but then you were flicking on the light and digging through your belongings. You didn’t even give yourself a chance to wipe away at the thin sheen of sweat over your skin from August heat mixed with a cheap fan that really didn’t make that much of a difference, and the stress from the events that had played deep in your mind while you slept.

With a shaky breath, you smoothed out your map on the floor where you were squatting, and steadily held your pendulum over the center. Does he need me? You finally asked and watched as the chain connected to a sphere of rose quartz slowly began to circle. It sped up and then began to dart in different directions before finally swinging back and forth between both of the “YES''s on the piece of cloth.

*

It took a little over a month to arrange your departure from your life in small town Ohio—not that small town Indiana was really all that different. You had briefly been back at your childhood house after your lease came to an end for the apartment you shared with a friend (who didn’t want to renew because she wanted to move in with her boyfriend, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that the card spread you had laid out all pointed towards a breakup). All of this to say you didn’t have a lease or mortgage to tie you down. You certainly didn’t have a boyfriend (you haven’t had one since college), and you didn’t even like your job at the local mart so it was easy to give your two weeks. Your parents were just as sick of your presence now as when you were a child, and were willing to help you in every way possible to get you to just leave again. Had you not been so focused on your end goal, you might’ve taken a beat to really feel the hurt that always came with parents who only came to your aid when it meant keeping you at arm's length. But you couldn’t focus on it and really (for the sake of your mental health) you shouldn’t focus on it. All of your energy went towards Eddie who seemed so far, even if he was supposedly just a few hours and a state line away.

You didn’t have a place yet, which was a mistake on your part for rushing, but you could stay in a motel for the time being. The prices were pretty low anyways and the owner seemed pleasantly surprised by the sudden source of money and company. The lot belonged to her husband who had passed a few years back, so now it was only her running the place. Her daughter helped sometimes, but she had another job to focus on—only coming to help when the older woman was ill. So even though she appeared kind of grumpy at first, she really softened up to you when you wound up padding out of your room the first night and asked if she wanted to play Go Fish. You had been feeling antsy and lonely, and you were right to assume she felt lonely too.

Over the past week or so, you found a friend in that creaking, groaning motel. You did have a bit of a tendency to befriend the adults around you more often than kids your age when you were younger and it still happened now, apparently. A shrink at university pointed out once that it had to do with the lack of guardianship and guidance growing up. That you were trying to replace something that had always been missing, but you didn’t go back to him after a couple sessions. You didn’t like how patronizing he was, telling you things you already knew. And when you asked your dowsing rods if he was sleeping with any of his clients, the two pieces in your fists whipped open in a blatant “Yes!” But he wasn’t around now to make you feel low with his supercilious commentary and his notes that he always scratched down right in front of you. Your parents weren’t around to remind you of how utterly unlovable you can be. It was just you, Martha at Hawkins’ Blue Bird Inn, and hopefully a pleasant reunion on the horizon.

Today was the day to finally see Eddie, and Martha urged some confidence into you this morning before sending you on your way with the directions to the garage. No matter how many times you clarified he was just your childhood best friend, she got that sly look about her that always showed when an adult was all amused about the novice in front of them being openly or involuntarily blind to love.

So there you were. On a mild Wednesday morning in late September, standing before Thacher Tire after a lot of asking around, a lot of time flipping through Martha’s phone book, and even more odd looks. You let out a careful breath, doing your best to reassure yourself with the knowledge that the people you spoke to knew his name in the first place. He had to be here, and even if he wasn’t working today he should at least be employed here. Maybe you could be told when to come back to speak with him or where you could find him outside of work. Would they share something like that? People don’t tend to care about privacy in small towns, that’s why everyone knew (generally) where everyone else was. Maybe if you clarified that you’re an old friend, they wouldn’t treat you as a customer and tell you where he would be.

You were wringing your hands as you eyed the door in front of you. The glass looking in was worn from age and weather, clearly cleaned so people could see through it, but there seemed to be an aging to the corners where the rectangle of glass met the surrounding wood that couldn’t be scrubbed out. It felt like a portal looking into what could be, and you suddenly felt yourself getting anxious with what exactly meant could be. You had a knack for catastrophizing, and spiraled in all of the worst case scenarios until you were running back to your car and abandoning the lot.

*

“Trust me, it’s not as scary as it seems. Going for those intimidating opportunities is always better in the long run than letting ‘em slip away,'' Martha murmured to you before biting into the sandwich you brought her.

You bought typical fast food that you always came running back to when you were stressed, but she didn’t like the grease. You learned that over the past week when you brought up your bad habit, and her nose scrunched up at the mention of crappy burgers and overly salted fries. Instead you got her a tuna sandwich from the nearby marketplace, and she shared her big jug of iced, sweet tea with you.

“I haven’t seen him for over ten years…,” you sigh, toying with the crackling paper that was wrapped around your cheeseburger. “What if I’m the only one who clung onto our friendship? What if it’s stupid to him?”

“Mm, us women always do hold on longer,” she hummed thoughtfully and you refrained from your urge to correct her old-fashioned view of gender dynamics for the sake of staying on topic. “I still think you should go for it.”

“What if… what if it’s not what I think it’ll be? What if I’ve turned him into someone more fictional than Eddie in my mind, and when I’m faced with how he really is now I just… I dunno…wish I didn’t come here?”

“They never are what you conjure up. They’re always better up here,” she pointed a bony finger to her temple and you focused on one of the curls in her short gray hair for a second before bringing your gaze back to hers. “I still think you should go for it.”

You huff out a laugh at her repetition, smiling sadly to yourself as you look down at your hands and notice the thin sheen of grease on them. Maybe Martha’s right. Maybe this food is gross. You grab a few napkins from the brown paper bag and wipe at your fingers.

“Just think of it this way: is it worse knowing the truth or worse never knowing?”

*

Eddie had been having a shit day. Actually he had been having a shit week. If he let himself truly indulge in his pessimism, he’d be acknowledging that he’s altogether just had a shit life, but he was trying not to fall into that trap. It would make him the kind of depressed and bitter that made him snap at others and then feel guilty about it—which only made him feel worse about himself.

He hasn’t been sleeping well, a sudden flare up of his insomnia throwing off his circadian rhythm. He thought with how busy his schedule was that he’d knock out the second his head hit the pillow, but he only seemed to be exhausted until he finally laid down. Then was when his thoughts randomly chose to run and his heart would race with the sudden surge of anxiety-inducing thoughts. He was beginning to feel so overwhelmed by everything that his eyes burned with the beginnings of hot tears but he wiped at them carelessly with the heels of his hands before they could become too real. In his mind, they didn’t exist until they fell.

Eddie ached with exhaustion that only seemed to let up when he could actually get a shot at some rest. He ached with loss and grief. He ached with pure misery and painful seclusion and a silent trailer—besides the occasional buzz of electricity through his lamp that he turned back on when he realized he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway, or the groan of the old mobile home settling against its cinder blocks. The upcoming season made itself known through the ever growing chill that formed at night and occasionally blew through every crack and crease of the trailer, making him shiver and pull his blankets up before inevitably growing hot again and kicking them away.

He missed his friends that he rarely saw. Everyone is busy nowadays. He missed Wayne who… god, he couldn’t even think about it. He missed Chrissy who lit up his world Spring of ‘86 just for them to drift apart. People seemed to drift from him a lot. People seemed comfortable with forgetting him and giving a brief call only when they got a pang of guilt at any reminder that they were getting awfully close to leaving him behind. But who was he to drag them down? It was heart-aching enough to live the way he did sometimes, let alone when people acknowledged just how heart-aching it was. Sometimes he even missed his dad, but he always avoided thinking too hard about him before it could sink his mood to a new level that would be hard to crawl out of.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep Wednesday night until early into Thursday morning. He settled into a deep rest around 4 AM just to be abruptly woken up by his 6:30 alarm to make sure he was at Thacher’s by 7:00.

“Fuck off…,” Eddie groaned out loud and slammed his fist down onto the alarm clock, never lifting his face from where it was planted right against his worn pillow.

He laid there for what felt like forever, but was really only a few minutes before he finally peeled himself out of his spot. Forcing himself from the comfort of his old mattress was never easy, especially when he couldn’t rely on any excuses he made up as a teenager to just flop right back into his bed. He had to get up. He had to work.

He went to make his usual toast just to see there was only the end piece left in his loaf of bread, and let out a guttural groan of frustration as he tilted his head back. He forgot to stop at the store. Grumbling a bitter so that’s how today’s gonna go under his breath, he shoved the sad excuse for a slice of bread into the toaster and then began looking through the kitchen for something else to satiate him until lunch.

He wound up eating what was left in his jar of peanut butter with a spoon after slathering the small piece of toast with jelly. He didn’t have time to clean a travel mug (which he forgot to clean last night) so he took a regular one with him on his commute, and wound up dumping his coffee all over himself mid-sip when he had to stop short for a kid suddenly biking across the road. The young teen laughed at the close call and made his way to the other side of the street. Eddie glanced down at his drenched t-shirt and coveralls, releasing his third irritated groan of the morning while he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling of his van before focusing back on the road and moving his foot to the gas. He focused on taking deep breaths as he gripped the steering wheel and made his way to the shop.

Thankfully, Linda had already started a pot of coffee in the break room which he happily drank and patted at his wet clothing with one of the blue shop towels. Staining was inevitable and it really didn’t matter with the coveralls anyways, but that didn’t mean he had to be damp. Taking that moment at the start of his shift helped with his mood, but the amount of customers bitching over the phone about how long it was taking to get their cars back were steadily draining him back into a surly mood. The most he had to look forward to and keep himself from unnecessarily snapping at someone was the fact that it was almost the weekend—and yes he would still have to work nights at The Hideout, but at least he didn’t have to get up early.

*

Never knowing was decidedly worse.

You had concluded this after ruminating on it all night—with and then without Martha’s help. And despite all of your anxieties that were just barely buried under the surface, you made yourself go to the garage again.

An obnoxious, tinny bell sounded and a dull voice said from behind a counter: Welcome to Thacher Tire. What can we do for you?

You approached carefully as if you moved too quickly, the depressing gray and beige setting around you—which held far more meaning for you than just fixing cars—would suddenly melt away and you’d wake up.

“Do you know where I could find Eddie Munson?” you asked in a soft voice, and the woman obnoxiously chomping at her gum looked up at you over the top of her glasses before looking back down at the paperwork in front of her.

“He’s in the garage. Is he working on your car?”

Your heart jumped and although you hated to lie, you did.

“Yes,” you said probably too quickly, but it seemed nothing could get this woman to care.

“Wait over there, please,” she spoke in a voice that was just as greige as her place of work.

You thanked her meekly and shuffled over to one of the worn, faux leather and hard plastic seats. The room smelled of cheap pine air fresheners and the potent combination of oil, and that specific rubber scent of brand new tires. The space with the front desk and the waiting area was small enough to be cramped if it was a busy day, but since you were the only visitor at the moment you didn’t have to be confronted by the full potential of such limited space. You toyed with your hands and tried to pay attention to the fuzzy television in one corner of the room, but you couldn’t help listening in on the receptionist’s call.

“…’s a girl here to talk to ya… uh-huh… yeah I know… uh, no I don’t think so. I doubt it. Her voice is different from the one that keeps calling about the Ford. Might be though... ‘Kay.”

You anxiously wiped your sweaty palms over your jeans as you heard the clunk of hard plastic settling back into its cradle. What if he didn’t remember you? What if he did, but didn’t care? What if he thought you were weird for showing up? What if he grew up to be someone who stomps on anthills?

Your head shot up at the sound of a door opening and then closing from the back, and a man in filthy coveralls approached the woman behind the desk. He had messy, curly bangs settled on his forehead and the rest of his long hair was in a low ponytail. He was sweaty and clearly exhausted as he wiped at his forehead and left a swipe of grease in his wake, speaking quietly to the receptionist before making his way over to you. The closer he got, the better you could smell the grease and sweat and bitter coffee, but it didn’t deter you. What truly threw you were the circles under his eyes and the sort of pale cast to his skin that people got when they were fatigued or ill. You weren’t sure why a part of you expected to see an eleven year old kid approach you with a god awful buzz cut and big brown eyes, even after fourteen years.

This was it. This was your moment. The time to reclaim your best friend, and have the greatest person you had ever met back into your life. Why was your throat suddenly so dry? You swallowed anxiously and then parted your lips to speak and-

“Miss, I know you’re waiting on your car to be fixed before the weekend—I promise I’m working as quickly as I can.”

You tried not to cringe at the use of “miss” and looked up at him with wide, sad eyes wondering why he didn’t see an almost ten year old girl with a messy braid in her hair that she did by herself, complaining at him to chew with his mouth closed.

“I lied,” You said bluntly and the man stared at you in a way that felt blank and still despite his wonderment.

“I-I don’t have a car here. I just wanted to talk to you.”

He eyed you curiously, his hands slowly wiping onto an old rag. It looked like it had been used so many times, you doubted it was even picking up any filth on his hands but just moving it around instead. He was clearly thrown off by the sentiment which brought a sort of youthfulness to his face in that moment of curiosity before his features hardened.

“Listen. I’m sure whatever prank you have conjured up is hilarious, but I’m tired and trying to do my job.”

“No-- no, no,” you tried to clarify, shooting up from your seat. “I—I-”

But he was already swiftly stomping away from you towards the back, muttering to the receptionist with a quick and surely rude comment about you on his way. You were moments from being politely asked to leave, you’re sure, but the woman hesitated with a gentle expression when she saw you approach her with glossy eyes.

“Could you please just give him this?” you asked in a soft voice that you did your best to keep even, but of course it wobbled just enough to be humiliating. You could feel the heat in your face and (even worse) the moisture in your eyes so you did your best to avoid eye contact.

You outstretched your arm and she met you halfway with a nod, allowing you to drop the old friendship bracelet into her palm.

[toxic3mmy]

I’m having a bad case of baby fever since I’m ovulating hard and I need fic of quackity with gf who’s ovulating like crazy and who’s begging for a baby

ooo baby fever!!! the only person in the world that i would ever want a baby w is alex😞😞 but yes, i got u my lovely <33 thx for the request

[also it cane out a bit diff than what u asked for im sorryyyy!! dont hate me bbg💔💔]

prompt: alex dealing with a baby fever filled gf

no smut but mentions of it ofc!!

everywhere you look, there’s babies. on tv commercials, at your job, even at the grocery store there’s always a baby who won’t stop smiling and cooing your way.

and who would make a cute baby? alex, your boyfriend, that’s who!

he has sparkling honey brown eyes with dark lashes framing them perfectly. his fair skin that has freckles and beautiful face moles. and his hair! he has a full head of hair that would look absolutely perfect on a sweet little baby.

lately, on your free time, you were indulging in this want and need and desire for a baby of your own. you were sneakily watching mommy and baby vlogs. you loved seeing their belly grow and their journey through their pregnancy. you even subscribed yourself to a baby magazine and it was what you looked forward to every time you checked your mail.

but you hid all of this from alex. you knew he probably wouldn’t understand. just how most men don’t understand why women obsessed over weddings and wedding planning. it also didn’t help that you were definitely ovulating.

and right now, you were sat listening to your boyfriend going on about his day. well, not really listening. more like admiring him and imagining him as a father and wow did that turn you on.

“what about you? how was your day?” alex asked suddenly

“oh, you know, i mostly just did my online coursework and cleaned the house a bit. i’ve been bored since you went out..” you said, trying to be inconspicuous

“trust me, i missed you too. now let’s eat. the food you made smells amazing” alex said, getting up to serve himself a plate

he served two plates of food, one for you and one for him. the two of you ate in mostly silence, with casual conversation here and there. once you finished eating, alex offered to wash the dishes since you did the cooking.

you sneakily pulled out your phone and scrolled through your pinterest. of course, you had baby related posts all over your feed and you loved it.

“babe.. this sponge sucks. where are the new ones we got the other day?” your boyfriend asked

“should be in the drawer next to the stove” you absentmindedly responded, eyes glued to your phone

alex opened the drawer and found your stash of baby magazines. he wasn’t blind, he knew what you had been obsessing over lately. this was the perfect time to bring it up. so he grabbed a sponge and washed the dishes. after drying his hands, he turned to face you.

“so… you’ve only been studying all day huh?” alex smirked, holding up one of your prized magazines

your eyes widened. you were at a loss for words.

“i-i uh… my sister is pregnant and um she sent me those to help her pick stuff out and—”

“hmm, addressed to our home to ms. y/n” alex interrupted

“do you think i don’t know by now? i see the way you’ve been looking at anything baby related online. i know you always volunteer to do the grocery shopping just for the chance of running into some mother with a baby… my question here is, why hide it?”

“i didn’t think you’d understand… i know how guys get when their girlfriends start talking about babies and i don’t know. i didn’t want to upset you. i didn’t want to make things weird between us..” you explained softly, expecting alex to get upset

he walked closer to where you were sitting and tucked your hair behind your ear gently.

“i could never be upset with you princesa. you don’t have to hide things like this from me. you know i love kids just as much as you do” he reassured you

you nodded sadly, still feeling a sense of guilt.

“why don’t we start trying?”

your eyes lit up and a huge grin was etched onto your face.

“you really mean it?” you asked and alex nodded with a smile on his face

“i would just adore having a little munchkin running around here. i think you’d be a spectacular mother y/n. i can just imagine them having your big ‘ol eyes and your pretty lips” he caressed your face sweetly

“and your gorgeous freckles… oh my god alex! we would have the most adorable baby in the whole wide world! do you actually want to start trying?”

“yes i do, princesa. we’re in a good place financially and also in a healthy place in our relationship. i wouldn’t want to have a baby with anyone else but you” he smiled

“you’re going to be such an amazing dad. you don’t know how much i’ve daydreamed about you holding our baby in your strong sexy arms. the way you would be super protective over them. i just know you’d have our baby on your chest at all times. you’re so innocent and precious and so so good with kids alex. you are definitely daddy material” you stood from your seat and reached out to hold his hand

“also.. i may or may not pay attention to your ovulation period…” he said seductively

“what?! why? you’re a weirdo!” you teased him

“no! i mean i pay attention to when you write those notes on our calendar! you freak” alex was red in the face and you couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered expression

while you were too busy laughing, he suddenly stood up and pushed you against the wall nearby, trapping you there.

“you’re probably really sensitive right now, aren’t you?” his voice came out in a darker tone

“m-maybe…”

“let me make love to you, princesa. quiero impregnarte ahora mismo. quiero que me sientes y que sientes que te hago la mama de mis hijos chula…” he said, making sure to kiss your neck while he spoke

all you could do was nod. his words alone made you so wet and needy for him already.

“i’ll make sure that after tonight, you’ll definitely become a mother” he smirked, dragging you to your shared bedroom

[lxmelle]

"When the day turns into night

And you’re way beyond my sight,

I’ll think of you, I’ll think of you.

When the night turns into day

And you still are far away,

I’ll think of you, I’ll think of you.

Even when I am not here

We still can be so very near

I want you to know my dear

I’ll think of you."

Source: Facebook & misterrogers.org/videos/when-the-day-turns-into-night

And think of each other throughout their short lives they did.

Headcannon, analysis and theorising - more under the cut:

I’ll preface with how I’m aware there is some reaching and rambling, but there are so many interesting parallels and foreshadowing in Gege’s work that I’ll be at risk of writing my own “war and peace” with my theories and headcannon. I might be wrong as always, but I hope it makes for an interesting read even if you don’t agree! Comments and reblogs welcome!

I’ve pondered on this theme of lateness. I have another draft post on this topic, but in this scenario it illustrates the impact of riko’s death and their defeat (eventual victory for Gojo) to Toji.

One ascended and the other descended. Arguably one saved the other, and equally debatably, they exchanged paths. However else you wish to explain it, Gojo deferred to Geto who was his moral compass, and was guided back to a sensible path. Geto did not wish to be saved by the time Gojo intervened, but ultimately was saved from himself before he could get too twisted.

Or, was it ultimately still a tale where Gojo was indeed too late, and despite everything he had, he could do nothing?

Nevertheless, their first defeat left them both scarred and changed.

Losing each other was something they never got over - Gojo and Geto had wounds shaped like each other.

One went off to find strength to change the world; the other went off to foster students to change the world. They pursued each other’s forte to make up for the sense of loss from their separation - trying to find completion within themselves and their world around them, but falling short of healing their emotions wounds - until they could meet the other once again to resolve their relational rupture.

Look at these two paralleling each other... papa Geto and Gojo sensei.

Let me start with Geto:

In this world, Geto admitted before his death that he could never smile from the bottom of his heart.

No matter how many people loved him, how much they were willing to dedicate to him by following and trusting him, Geto didn’t feel happy. We see, so touchingly, how much he was loved by his family - Mimiko, Nanako, Miguel, Larue.

Did he ever feel loved? He certainly felt protective over them, but did he feel he mattered, besides being the one who gave them a vision?

It doesn’t seem so. Geto seemed to think little of himself, for someone prideful and egotistical (by his own definition). He lost a sense of security in himself and value following Gojo’s distancing of himself too. Untethered, he probably felt like he was free falling.

I theorise that his desire for a better world was born out of a desire for redemption, and it was a curse to avenge the loss of his youth as well as those who had died under his care - Riko, “Gojo” (pre-enlightenment), and Haibara. Geto had lost himself within a spiral of depression and self-affirmation following the Toji incident.

I sense that his search for meaning and purpose through the protection of others was always an act of self-sacrifice that was exhausting and defeating for him. Just like the consumption of curses. Like a futile attempt at regaining control when he was slowly losing it even more - getting further and further away from what he really needed - to heal from his emotional wounds.

What he needed to resolve was learning that he was loved within the world; that he had a place and belonging there. It didn’t have to be about him being a protector or making a difference. When he was feeling balanced from within (secure), existing in harmony could become possible. The rest could then fall into place.

But how could Geto have faith in the universe, after the system fails them all, his best friend now finds meaning in acting alone (being protective in his own way), he learns that riko’s death/sacrifice was inconsequential, and that his fellow peers would just keep dying if he continued powerlessly chugging on. He began to believe he can only rely on himself in a world separate from jujutsu high.

The only time he can remember feeling safe or having equilibrium was in his youth beside his best friend, Gojo. The primary source of his wound was losing Gojo and the disillusionment of their defeat was not repairable.

For Geto, despite chasing his goals to the best of his ability, he could not smile authentically for all these years. The world that was presented to him felt cruel; like a curse stuck on vengeance and justice, he kept burying himself with lies that he used to avoid facing the inevitable truth that this could only end in one way. It began and will end with Gojo.

He could not replace what Gojo was to him, and the strength he may have envied to fulfil his goal, was a constant reminder of what he had lost - the trust and understanding of someone. His vision of clarity had become costly and darkened as time passed. To gain more power meant he’d become increasingly twisted. Knowing he was on borrowed time, that what he was doing was wrong, that it could only end one way - to Gojo’s hand.

Did Geto, like Yorozu, need to be seen too? Was this the validation he found / sought - to be witnessed? I honestly don’t know, but whatever Gojo and Geto shared, it was more reciprocal than Sukuna and Yorozu. I do wish Geto was more honest with Gojo, but I think it was enough in itself to yield completely to Gojo and accept his end.

Geto had a Gojo-shaped wound that Gojo mercifully filled upon his last moments - showing him unconditional love and regard despite the changes between them.

We are kept out of the last words Gojo delivered, but we see that: He was recognised by the one who had truly mattered to him the most - the one whom he loved, and thought he had lost. He smiled sincerely at the very end.

Geto was shown to shed not one but two tears in Gojo’s afterlife scene. How moved must he have been to receive the regard and love from his best friend? Despite the lack of honest insight from Geto (Gege, you’re so stingy with inner narratives), it seems rather clear that there is something there that only Gojo can ease for him.

As for Gojo:

In his death dream / afterlife scene, Gojo was shown to express to Geto: If you were there, I probably would’ve been satisfied. It was received as loving, as Geto shed tears to this, and we know Gojo deflects from emotions by abruptly changing topics when he gets a bit heavy.

Gojo also describes how, no matter how many people adored him, he felt a distance between them; although he didn’t feel lonely, he could not feel understood in all these years as the strongest.

The line was drawn even more following his enlightenment, and his only memory of connection was with Geto, who had modelled a way for him to connect with those weaker than him and not see them like feeble dirt beneath his feet (as Hajime did) or pursue power like Sukuna did without caring about “worthless” love.

His main reason for being a teacher was also Geto. I headcannon/theorise that it wouldn’t have been the first time Gojo missed him, imagined “what would Geto do?” or saw Geto in his students in those 10+ years. What could he do differently?

Through the impact of Geto’s loss and the power of their love within their friendship, Gojo was compelled to think about others - whether he wished to prevent it from happening again, to reform the jujutsu world, to make room for Geto to potentially return (pre-jjk 0), or to simply understand his students... Gojo stretched himself to carry the emotional and mental load that was almost exclusively Geto’s role in their friendship.

Gojo was never the most nurturing type, but he did his very best - to advise, demonstrate, and protect the youth of these students. Giving them their own blue spring was also an ode to what he shared with Geto. Despite healing a lot and making room for others, Gojo had a Geto-shaped would that only Geto could fill.

What Gojo needed to resolve was to learn to love others - even moreso following his enlightenment in the manner in which he did after Toji - that he did not have to be isolated and alone, that true connection (love) exists and was worthwhile.

Meaning and purpose beyond “just getting kicks” out of being the strongest or wielding his skills beyond self-fulfilment - were all possible - but Gojo only had a limited canvas to work from - it was mostly Geto’s palette that he expanded upon. That he didn’t want to repeat whatever mistakes either of them made if possible.

His main forte was being a skilled sorcerer. This was his primary focus still, because this was just in his nature. Gojo was practically bestowed with the assets for this role. Nobody can blame him for being greedy and coveting more (love/connection he once knew) or attempting more (influencing a new generation). Gojo was meant to be human with all his flaws and thankfully, he kept his humanity.

He ultimately tried to reach and connect to Sukuna - a potential peer whom he could “converse” with, but they were too different. He fulfilled a need to showcase his skill and philosophy to his students - alongside his own personal desire to “go all out” and die gloriously-victorious through giving it his all.

He found the connection he needed right upon his death; meeting Geto and his friends without the need for an encounter at death’s door with Sukuna - unlike Jogo and Hajime who spent their last moments with Sukuna in a dialogue. Gojo didn’t need to talk with Sukuna. They could not understand each other; not when Sukuna did not know real love - even Yorozu did not think so.

To know love is to long for it enough to recognise it.

Since Gojo could not share with Sukuna what he wanted to teach (about love) he was able to tell and share it with the only person he knew who could understand - Geto. Even if Nanami and Haibara didn’t, Geto did.

It’s enough for them, isn’t it?

And it’s enough for us to know their legacy continues. It is so heartwarming to see Gojo’s students and members of Geto’s family being there too - all fighting for their own reasons - to defend and / or in honour of their memory.

[maybank-archives]

Reader and JJ are in a relationship despite her father telling her to stay away from him. One day she gets a call from Sarah or Kiara that he’s in the hospital- his dad beat him within an inch of his life. Luckily her dad is somewhere on the mainland for the next two weeks so she can sneak out. She doesn’t leave his bedside for anything but using the bathroom until he can leave the hospital. Maybe he’s in surgery when she gets there, and/or has to have emergency surgery, maybe his heart stops a few times from like internal bleeding or something.

by your side - jj maybank

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

warning: a tiny angst

word count: 0.4k

author's notes: i'm back! since kinktober i took a little break just to organize some personal/work related things but i'm back! this is one of my late request that i didn't posted on october bc of the kinktober works but now it can see the light of the day! hope yall like this! love ya :)

masterlist | join the taglist |

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The hospital room was eerily silent, so quiet you could've heard a pin drop. All you could hear was the steady beeping of the machines scattered around JJ's room. JJ looked like he'd been in a fight with a truck. The amount of bruises on his face and body was seriously scary. I took a seat in a chair right next to JJ's bed, gripping his hand like my entire world depended on it.

I’ve been glued to his side since I got the call from Sarah a day ago. I rushed to the hospital immediately, my heart was heavy with fear. I knew how shitty Luke Maybank was, but I would never imagine he could do something like this. When I saw JJ I collapsed into Kie’s arms, it was painful to see him like this.

I guess having a rough relationship with our father was like an invisible connection between me and JJ. Right after my dad found out about my relationship with JJ, I had been “forbidden” to see him, no matter how much I argued, my dad insisted on making the same stupid comments about how low-class, worthless, and dirty pogues are.

I couldn’t care less about his opinion, JJ and the rest of the pogues have been my family more than my actual family, and that’s why no matter what happened, I’m not going anywhere.

The door to the room swung open, the doctor entered with Pope, John B, Sarah, and Kie right behind him.

“You must be the persistent girlfriend, huh?.” He said picking J’s chart. “Well, he suffered severe internal bleeding, and his heart stopped a few times during the procedure. We managed to stabilize him, but, he'll need time to recover.” 

I nodded feeling the tears welled up in my eyes. Kie reached your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“We will keep him under our watch until he’s better.” He added heading towards the door “He will be fine, kids.”

“Thank you,” I whispered sobbing.

“C’mon J, hang in there.” John B said with his eyes watering as well.

I sank my face into my hands; my mind was frantic, I kept reminding myself to take deep breaths to control my anxiety. 

I step out of the bedroom and head to the bathroom, I splash water on my face trying to stop the crying, I suddenly realize I haven’t left JJ’s bedroom since yesterday, Sarah and Kie were alternating bringing you food and water but besides that, you just sat there. 

When I walked back into the bedroom, I saw Pope, John B, Sarah, and Kie, all crashed out on the couch. I took my seat again, holding JJ's hand, as I got comfortable in the chair, I felt JJ’s hand twitch. I snapped my head in his direction, and there he was, slowly fluttering his eyes open.

“You're here,” he said with a weak smile crossing his lips.

My eyes welled up with tears, but I couldn't hide my own relieved grin as I leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Of course, I am," I murmured.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

✧˚ . taglist ˚✧ (join here): @loverofmarsss | @jjmaybankisbae

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

© maybank-archives 2023 — no one has permission to copy or translate any of my works, if you see any of my work being reproduced in another platform please contact me! :)

[thatoneluckybee]

School Bus Graveyard Episode 61 Thoughts

Okay thoughts time cause HU!HG?!?Q>?

The logo was altered!! Not by much but I love the detail that some falling rubble was covering the edges of the logo at the beginning of the episode.

Ben holding/protecting Tyler under the (table? desk?) is everything to me. Ben Clark is a golden retriever in all the best ways. I am dealing with the after effects of the Ben Fever we all got a few weeks ago.

Same goes for Taylor protecting Ashlyn! It’s so cute and Taylor has been coming in CLUTCH lately. I’m so excited for this development with her after Tyler’s injury. I just hope she’s able to target her (rightful) anger at the right people and not at the rest of the group. (Also ASHLYN CRYING BABY NO)

“Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?” Aiden, no, we do not, put your eyes back in please. (Also—I LOVE the shading and dramatic effects on this panel.)

Okay, the parents are DEFINITELY being affected by the rift and Phantom Dimension. Mike was dizzy when the kids all came back!! And I love how responsible both of Ashlyn’s parents (as well as everyone else so far) are being—Immediately jumping in to help when it sounds like someone is in trouble. I just hope this serves as a wake-up call for Aiden’s mom and dad.

We’ve seen Ashlyn scared before but… holy cow I don’t think she’s been pictured as this terrified before. And rightfully so! I want to give her a hug and a chocolate milk. Also, I adore how Logan immediately noticed and rushed to help. He’s really grown in his emotional maturity over the series and I’m loving the payoff.

Yes, honey, you are becoming phantoms. Is this confirmation of the theory? I’ll take it as confirmation of the theory.

…The parallels between the earlier panel of Tyler “waking up” vs Aiden now is…. oh my. And the altered text was DEEPLY disturbing. But I had to try not to laugh at imagining what he sounds like right now. Probably like he’s a 40 year old man who’s smoked a six-pack ev’ry night since way back when.

LILY BABY NooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO and Aiden IMMEDIATELY being concerned about Ashlyn is everything. In all honestly the ship concerned me at the beginning but I am ALL ABOARD and ready to set sail now. They both have grown so much and while it would have been iffy at the start it’s becoming a really sweet and wholesome relationship, regardless of whether it stays platonic or divulges into romance.

The flashbacks were INSANE. But also, let’s take a moment seeing these to appreciate HOW MUCH THE ART HAS IMPROVED!!! Supersupersuper proud of Red and her entire team. This was like a short montage of the growth and I love that so much. Also…. could this potentially count as an “oh” moment for Ashlyn?? And the immediate jump afterwards to Aiden’s maybe-dead-maybe-not body was such incredibly timed and perfected formatted whiplash!!!!!

Ashlyn initiating the contact was huge for her. We know she isn’t a fan of touchy-feely stuff or close contact so this is big. I thing there was a “some people are worth being uncomfortable for” comic with the BTW and TBH creature that sums up my thoughts on this? But yeah, I loved this. She’s growing more comfortable AND this was entirely respectful of her boundaries while also allowing her to push past her comfort zone? Amazing.

”So this is what it feels like” uhhhhhhhh I need a seperate ramble post for this cause I don’t want to trigger tag this one and have it filtered but I have… a lot to say. Very relatable and makes me appreciate these characters more. I love how this whole short scene was pulled off though. Definitely a lot of emotions for this one, I had to pause for a moment to process.

“I don’t like how much she’s shaking” MY HEART

Aaaaand THANK YOU RED FOR ANOTHER AMAZING EPISODE!!! I’ve got so many longer thoughts and theories and ideas and rambels and AUGHHHHHHH I can’t fit them all!!!

[whatisthatmae]

Neteyam x Vitiligo Metkayina! Reader

Part 1

Authors note: my second post!! Hopefully this doesn’t disappoint! Enjoy!

Pronouns: She/Her

Y/n pov

I was on my way to hunt some fish to eat for dinner when I heard someone blowing the horn for some odd reason. I got up from where I was and then I see people rushing to see what had arrived at our shores. I stop what I’m doing and go see what the commotion is all about. Once I got there I see my parents, Ronal & Tonowari, and my siblings Tsireya & Ao’nung. I had skipped my way over to where all the people from my clan were, swinging my tail a bit side to side,only to see some new comers. They looked like they were from the Omatikaya clan from the forest.

My siblings were beside my parents by the time I arrived. I skimmed my gaze over the new comers only to see what looks like to be their eldest son looking my way. I look at him a bit confused, mostly because he was just..staring at me. Either way I at least tried to give him a small smile. I don’t really like new comers, or anything new that comes to our clan. My attitude is similar to my mothers so at first I don’t really like them,but I at least have some heart to be nice..unlike her.

She had been looking over these new people with a judging look on her face. Even though I wasn’t the one she was looking at, it made me nervous. Her whole gaze, just makes me nervous. My mother, and the boys mother started growling at each other when my mom got to close to what seems like the other woman’s mate I assume. Toruk Maktou has apologized for the woman’s behavior, blaming it on the flight on the way here.

After a while of talking, my father declared that me and my siblings will help the new family learn our ways. I was not really happy about it because I have better things to do, I am the second eldest child in our family. I am training under my mother to become the next Tsahík. “Father, you do know I have other things to do, correct?” I said with a scowl on my face. Me and my father have butt heads a lot ever since I’ve gotten older. “It had already been decided.” He said sternly.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes at him. I told my sister Tsireya to hurry up so we can get this over with. We showed the family to their Marui & I felt the older brothers gaze on me again. I don’t know what exactly he’s looking at me for though. Maybe it’s because my skin is sort of different? I don’t know. But I try to ignore it the best I could until the day was over. After a while their parents went with mine to go learn elsewhere, while me & my sister teach their children.

———————————————————-

After their lesson I tried to leave as fast as I could. I honestly like to keep to myself, it just feels better that way to be alone. When I was on the shore I felt someone tap my shoulder for a moment. I turn around & guess who it was. Yup, the older brother who I still don’t know the name of. “ Yes? Do you need something before I leave?” I asked, being as polite as I could. “Yes actually.” He said, I raised and eyebrow for him to continue. “Could you tell me your name? I’d at least like to know the name of the person I’m learning from.” He asked. I sighed and told him what he asked for. “ My name is ____” I said back to him.

“I was wondering if you would like to be friends? The other people I’ve met here are being… should I say, rude?” I hum in acknowledgement and nod my head. “Yes, that’ll be fine, I guess. I really must get going though. My mother would be furious if I’m late.” I said in a hurry. “Oh, we’ll I’ll see you around then?” He asked curiously. “ Yes, you will. Goodbye!” I tried to put a smile on my face that looked at least a bit real. “Bye!” He said back.

———————————————————

It’s been a few weeks since the Sully’s have showed up on our island. Me and Neteyam have been getting to know each other better, and it’s been working. I’ve been opening up to him about this recently, like how I’ve been so stressed to keep up with my mothers expectations. He relates to my struggles too, which makes me feel better to say the least.

Neteyam has been getting better at his lessons too. I’ve taught him very well since he’s learned in such fast time. I’ve taught him every ting I know from riding an ilu, to hunting. I don’t really know what else to do when we “hang out” anymore…if you can even call it that. He says the we “ should hang out outside of the lessons” since their is nothing else that I can teach him.

Neteyam’s pov

Recently, I’ve been hanging out with ____ a lot. I’ve been making excuses to hangout with them or even just for the simplest things. Lo’ak is thinking that I like her, and I’m starting to see it. ____ is very mysterious, and interesting. She doesn’t really like to be out much with other people, and she has this fierce type attitude. Sort of similar to her mothers, just more..dialed back.

Today I made ____ a gift. It’s a bracelet from the shells from the shore that tuk and I found a few days ago. “Who is that for?” Lo’ak asked. “It’s none of your business, Lo’ak” I rolled my eyes at him while walking towards the place where me and ____ are supposed to meet. “ Its fine, I have a pretty good guess on who it’s for” he said. I huffed and kept waking. “Look big bro, someone’s gonna snatch ____ up and take her one day . Might as well and confess soon.” He said. “And why do you say that?” I asked. “ One of her brothers friends mentioned that he had a crush on her yesterday. So I suggest you hurry up and do it while you have the chance.”he shrugged his shoulders and walked away. I sighed and just kept walking until I see ____.

[rc-writes]

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: benny weir x reader (could be seen as platonic or romantic)

warnings: two curse words??, if you’re reading this as platonic there’s one mention of wearing couples costumes but friends can totally do that to, uhh i think that’s it

a/n: alright i could have probably thought of a million more but it was literally 1am when i wrote this and i was tired lol. also i will admit that was me fulling self projecting on the info dumping about movies part and wanting to text someone at an ungodly hour, but in my defense i do genuinely think benny would do those things as well. also this was requested by an irl friend of mine who mentioned friends to lovers after i finished this so look out for that coming soon! also this is my first writing related thing i’ve posted on this blog in like 2 years!!

will try to learn spells just to impress you

of course there was a few that went wrong

maybe more than a few, but it’s the thought that counts right?

will send every meme or funny video he finds

does not matter if its 3pm or 3am he will send it immediately after he found it

which speaking of 3am i can see him not being able to sleep so he tries texting you

if you answer i can see him texting “hey what’s wrong?? why are u up so late?? everything okay??” and completely ignoring that he too is also awake at this hour

“you are aware you texted me first, why are you up”

“i asked you first”

benny absolutely loves video games and will want to play a few with you even if you don’t like video games

which if you’re with him there a good chance you love them too

but if you don’t you will most likely start liking them even just a bit because he makes them fun

getting to spent time with him and watch him do something he loves makes it special

it also can be really funny

can guarantee at least once he’d say “watch this babe” or “this ones for you” and immediately fail/die

this is also something that definitely happens in the outside world with him trying to throw something away or something

pure of heart, dumb of ass

also i don’t know shit about video games so i cannot go into anymore detail then this lol

is 100% down with spontaneous movie nights whether that be binge watching movies at home or going to the theater

if it’s a movie he’s obsessed with but you’ve never seen he will be trying his hardest not to info dump and potentially spoil the whole thing

but if it’s a movie he knows you have seen he is more than willing to explain every single fact about it he knows

“did you know that while filming this bit they had film it completely in reverse to make it look like that?? insane right!?”

speaking of movies if it’s a horror/scary movie you can bet he will try to act all tough and not scared before it starts

even if you already know how much of a scaredy cat he is he will try to play it off

but the second the first jumpscare happens there will be popcorn flying everywhere

he is no longer allowed to hold the bowl

you’re still finding popcorn in the couch

he will still continue to pretend that he’s not scared despite shaking like a scared chihuahua

you will have to be the one to grab onto him

which then leads to him hiding his face into your neck or behind you

he still refuses to let you turn it off even if you insist it’s okay

there is a part of you that feels bad but also a part that thinks it’s so funny

your contact names in each others phones are han solo and princess leia

the only suggestions i will take on this is that yours is han and his is leia

will take you to every convention within driving distance

if the convention if for some game/show/movie you don’t know be prepared for a whole powerpoint presentation or a weekend of binge watching whatever media it is

“didn’t you just say you hated doing a powerpoint for history??”

“babe this is way more important and interesting than anything school can teach”

you both will be going all out costume wise every convention

i can totally see you guys going in couple costumes or like hero and villain

if the latter you two take turns on who gets to be the villain or hero

if you are with benny there is no way you can be a halloween hater

he can do freaking magic, of course it’s his favorite holiday!!

this also can follow what i said for conventions with the costumes

at some point there is a competition on who can get the most candy

if he loses, he will say that the candy was just too hard to resist, and he had to eat just one piece that turned into him eating many pieces

this is a true fact whether he loses or not

side note if you can go a whole night of trick or treating without eating a single piece of candy while doing so i don’t believe you

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP. I have a question running through my mind lately, and I think it’s a little bit stupid, a little bit legit. I read your thoughts and like your opinions. I think you’re one of the best people who could answer, if not the most appropriate one. Sorry if it sounds dumb, tho.

I’ve been into kpop for a while, now. I can’t say i know the way it works, i can’t say i’m a master of it. But i notice things. I notice the big big impact fanservice has in the industry, for example. It’s literally fundamental. There are a few few companies with sex-mixed groups. Put them apart, the majority are same sex groups. Because with opposite genders in the same group there could be problems, unease, relationships etc.

Then they push same sex fantasies with fanservice and amplified skinship (already present in Korea). And until this point, everything is normal. I mean, we know things work this way.

But here i already notice a controversy. Homophobia is present and rooted in Korea and in the industry, but still they push gay narratives/don’t do anything to debunk them. So they try to “feed” everyone, people who like gay scenarios/moments included.

Then i think about girl groups. Twice, black pink. There’s a lot of explicit touching, explicit affirmations (i like you, your body is stunning, let’s go on a date, you make me blush etc). There’s in bts too, the guys did some nasty things too on cameras, i know. But with girl groups, you can easily notice it’s made up for the cameras but it still happens, and unless i’m missing it, i never saw someone hating or heavily hating on members because of it. Because of some easily misunderstanable sentences/acts.

The same goes for boy groups. I’m thinking of ateez. On of the members (i’m not into them so i don’t know his name) loudly read a comment saying “marry (insert another member’s name)”. And he said “you want me to marry *? You know it’s illegal here”. Then i’m thinking of enyphen, again, i’m not into them, but i saw this clip of two members going live and reading comments about them being a couple/being romantically involved. Shipping.

I’m sorry this is gonna be a long one, but before making my point i need to say these things.

Then we have Somi. She explicitly said she has a lot of women flirting with her, and she said she wants to conquer women too. She said she likes Han SoHee and dmed her on insta, but she didn’t reply. She even kissed Hyuna in a video posted on the internet less than a month ago.

Then we have Bibi. She kisses girl fans during her concerts and pictures of it are shared everywhere. She’s still famous, all of these people i’m mentioning are famous, are known, are in the korean spotlight, more or less. And their careers are not fucked up. Sometimes it’s fanservice, some others it’s who they are. Somi really likes women too, imo, and Bibi as well.

I get that for women it might be easier. There’s a group (a big group) of people who prefers gay interactions between women than gay interactions between men. They find it pleasing, and it’s an homophobic, toxic masculinity and women fetishization related preference.

But still, most people are fine with it. Yeah someone probably criticized it, probably hated on them because of these behaviours, but at the end of the day everything is fine for them.

I’m thinking about J-Hope too, who has gay friends and publicly shares pictures with them. He even visited a gay club and, again, probably some people criticized him for it and i’m just not on that side of the internet and the fandom, but at the end of the day his career is not gonna end because of it. Most People are fine with that too. He wears nail polish, tae does too. Can you imagine Jm or Jk doing that publicly? The hate they’d get? Maybe i’m wrong and it wouldn’t be like that; but that’s how i feel.

Then i think about Holland. His coming out had a huge impact on his career, his life. The aggressions he was victim of; his music not being so followed and famous, probably also because of said coming out.

I think about every kpop artist who is closeted and can’t say it. I think about Jikook, about Jimin who had to “play” with colors, lyrics, temporary tattoos and playful interviews (such as the “I think he likes men-> I don’t like you” one) in order to silently whisper that he’s not straight. That there’s more he can’t show.

And then Jikook in general. They could never afford to do what ateez and enhypen did. Never, bpp. We know that. So why?

Why is there this difference, why is it so… difficult for me to get how this works. Why can they do it, but Jikook can’t? But bts can’t? Why is there a limit for some idols, and some others are almost completely free? What am I missing?

I hope my question is clear, bpp. I really do, because i feel like i made a mess here all over the place. I’m sorry about it, thank you for reading this, if you did.

I appreciate you🫶

***

Hi Anon,

Don’t apologize.

So if I’m reading this right, you’re asking why the reaction to jikook showing queer expression is so much more negative than you see it for anyone else / other duos and groups?

Or, maybe quoting you is better:

“And then Jikook in general. They could never afford to do what ateez and enhypen did. Never, bpp. We know that. So why?”

I’m not sure if what I’ll say will make sense, and this might seem silly, but I think one reason jikook/BTS appear to have fewer liberties on things like explicit/overt shows of love/attraction between them, even under the umbrella of ‘fan service’ and compared to other groups, is because BTS is the biggest group in the world. Just by virtue of the group’s prominence, BTS being very closely tied with several government appointments and massive brands in Korea (Samsung and Hyundai)… there’s a greater expectation of conformity for them compared to other groups. There’s just more at stake for them.

I mean, do you recall the lead up to the enlistment news? How people were picking them apart, people who didn’t think they should be exempt where digging into their old footage trying to find anything to turn public opinion against the group. It was kinda crazy. In that sort of environment and in any case, the prudent thing would be to wait till after military service to expect more freedom in expression for a boy group. And perhaps that’s what we’ll see with jikook and BTS in general come 2026.

But also, the thing is, jikook have still been quite loud… in some ways even louder than Somi’s declarations (but certainly not Holland’s and the cost to him and any openly gay artist is apparent to see). GCF in Tokyo is so loud, it couldn’t be louder if JK got a megaphone, climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower and screamed that he loves Jimin in the four cardinal directions. No matter what anybody says about GCF in Tokyo, that video itself is very clear and it says it all.

Then there’s the gesture of Jimin flying from Paris to Korea just to spend some time with Jungkook on his birthday, and then more recently, flying to NYC to be with JK during Seven debut. There’s the way their families treat them both. There’s that OT7 live where Jimin kept one half of his body literally glued to Jungkook’s on the couch, hooking his arms to keep their thighs together that not even air could pass between them. Then there’s fucking Rosebowl, pardon my French.

Like, even with all the scrutiny, jikook have still been able to say what they actually want about what they each mean to each other. Jimin is usually private and careful with how he speaks in general, he’s not the kind of person to talk the way Somi did about anything, really. So expecting a similar level and style of communication/queer expression, for jikook compared to these other people, really isn’t fair to Jimin or Jungkook to begin with, I think.

It’s totally okay if as a fan you’d like to see more open, simple and consistent expressions of queerness the way we have it in OnlyOneOf, Ateez, Bibi, etc. Those groups are made in some ways precisely to scratch that itch. It’s good the way they talk about queer attraction draws you in or resonates with you, but I’m not sure it’s fair to expect other people, in this case jikook and/or BTS, to express their relationship and queer feelings the same way.

If you’re approaching this solely from the point of concern for jikook, I totally get it. Korea is very homophobic. But within their immediate team, I hope and trust they are surrounded by more good people than bad, people who will aim to protect the queer members. There’s no use worrying about this for long, since they’ll just have to learn to take care of themselves.

I could’ve totally missed your question or what you’re actually asking, Anon. If so let me know. But the above is also what I think.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

hello i’ve got some thoughts and updates for this blog.

i’ve been on a bit of burnout for a while, including life outside of writing. naturally the termination has sped up that burnout. i’m exhausted and struggling to be graceful about it, but that’s to be expected. i’m not one to sit on my feelings even though i’ve lacked the energy to write. which really bites because that’s my number-one passion really.

however i’ve taken some time to relax by diverting my attention away from social media and niji streams. i’ve relearned an old hobby and splurged a little too much on a new one, and i kind of can’t believe how much i missed drawing on real paper with a real pen and pencil. and thank god the love and deepspace sponsorship wrapped up before the termination, because that game has me in not just a chokehold but like one of those umbilical cords from astral projection. the silver cord? that

i’ve been watching other vtubers lately as well. i’ve always considered adding holostars en to my list but hesitated because everything else on my blog was niji-related.

consider this confirmation that i will be adding holostars’ tempus hq, vanguard and armis, and first stage productions’ avallum to my list of characters i will write for. i admit i’m not as familiar with armis, but i’ll be paying closer attention in the near future as i branch out from strictly watching niji only.

(might also be adding idol corp’s e-sekai? maybe? i watch them once every few months and i haven’t seen pochi or yuko stream since they debuted 💀 no clue on their gen 2 either)

i’ll be overhauling my masterpost for organization soon. so apologies for the horrors about to come… to be clear i will not delete any of my writing so don’t worry!

i’m unsure how much niji i’ll write in the future. give me some time to think as the situation hopefully cools down. i appreciate your patience.

and who knows maybe i’ll write for non-vtuber fandoms too

i think it’s about time i clean my inbox out soon too. i‘ll answer what asks i can and delete the remaining ones. i’ve had a few requests sitting in my inbox for nearly a year now and i’ve recently realized how stressed i was over them and learned about some boundaries i didn’t know i had beforehand, among other things, so so it’s about time i face them head-on. i apologize if i never got to your request! please don’t take it personally if i don’t answer your request. but above all else thank you for being patient, understanding, and kind enough to send in a request. even though i tend to bite off more than i can chew i always get so happy whenever i see a notif in my inbox and i appreciate your time for a little unit 4402.

even though i’m not watching niji streams atm i’m hesitant to stop writing for them because, like, i keep thinking of this clip of doppio saying he feels like he’s allowed to buy healthy/organic food because of fan support and donations, and among other reasons... it’s very easy to make conclusions on people you only know through a screen and i just can’t bring myself to cut them out so abruptly, even if i’m a fan creator on a site none of them use.

idk when i’ll post next and it feels nice to say that. i usually try to post once every 2 weeks, but considering how i’m trying not to think about niji right now and am instead embracing other parts of my life, i dunno. it’s nice. this blog is a major source of joy for me and it feels like i’m preserving what makes it so special for me instead of turning it into a chore. hopefully with time and rest i’ll have a clearer idea of where to go from here.

that’s pretty much everything on my mind, i think? thank you for bearing with me and my yapping. i hope to return soon and that the next time you see me, my blog will be cleaner, more expansive, and with a fresh mindset. take care of yourselves and don’t get immersed in toxicity. don’t forget to do what you love 💛

[dial-a-dyke]

Do you know about Queering the Map?

Hey y'all! I wanna highlight a queer platform I've been really interested in recently, one that has gained popularity in the last couple months especially. You might recognize this heartbreaking and intimate excerpt from Gaza that's been circulating social media platforms in the last couple months:

I’ve always imagined you and me sitting out in the sun, hand and hand, free at last. We spoke of all the places we would go if we could. Yet you are gone now. If I had known that bombs raining down on us would take you from me, I would have gladly told the world how I adored you more than anything. I’m sorry I was a coward.

The post comes from queeringthemap.com which, according to their Instagram, "is a community-generated counter mapping platform for digitally archiving LGBTQ2IA+ experience in relation to physical space."

Basically, Queering the Map allows you to post your own queer memories from anywhere in the world, completely anonymous. Wanna mark where you and your girlfriend had your first date? Drop a pin. Wanna place yourself in the middle of the ocean as a metaphor for unrequited love? Drop a pin. Wanna reflect on being the only queer person in your town? Drop a pin.

There is no limit to what users can post - or what they can see. Every post that users have ever created is still on the site, serving as make-shift digital archive for queer memories. Posts are public to any user who visits the website, allowing people to browse the digital globe and the queer experiences people have shared.

Founded by Canadian artist Lucas LaRochelle in 2017, Queering the Map has connected countless LGBTQ2IA+ people from around the world. Some like to share their own memories, others find hope in reading others' posts, and some share the posts to other platforms for rhetorical purposes.

Take the excerpt above from Gaza, for example. It first began to circulate the web (to my knowledge) roughly a year ago, and then again in June after it was featured in a NYT article. Then, in October, Instagram, Twitter, Tik Tok, and Tumblr users began sharing the screenshotted post to show solidarity with Palestinians - especially queer Palestinians. The Dyke Project used this excerpt and others from Gaza to display on bus advertising systems. Something about Queering the Map captivated attention in a unique way - something about it made people feel like it was the right place to turn in moments and feelings of tragedy and horror.

Other times, people share posts that simply spoke to them. Illustrator Aude Nasr brought some posts to life, helping us picture the moments people were trying to document. I've posted some of Nasr's art here.

I encourage you all to check out queeringthemap.com at some point, if not to post for yourself but to just see the beautiful, lively, and complicated memories someone, somewhere, wanted you to see. And to my queer siblings everywhere: I am constantly amazed by our desire to connect with each other, to defy borders and time, and to write our stories down.

Quick userguide:

Entering the website, users find themselves in a zoomed in location on the map. The water is blue, but the land is pink with dotted lines indicating borders between states or regions, and straight lines between countries. Using their mouse, one can scroll to zoom in or out. Memories are marked on the pink map by black location tags, which you can click on to view the specific memory a user shared for that location, or simply run your mouse over it for a smaller box to show the text. Zooming out too far, a user might see a black blob, no pink space in sight as so many memories have been posted to a particular region.

Were you familiar with Queering the Map before this post? What about before the last couple of months? What Queering the Map entry speaks to you? What does queer memory making mean to you?

Here's some posts I've been thinking about lately.

It gets better. When I first got here I was so unsure of myself and if I would be accepted. Now, I know I am loved, I am more sure and I have been accepted and embraced unlike ever before. Roll Pride baby!

came out to my daughter here while driving her to school, 6 years later and 6000km away she came out to me .

Came out to my folks. It didn’t go too well.

Was with the cutest guy I’d ever met

I’m from rafah and she’s from deir al balah, she got married later and i left gaza strip, to this day i think of you, to this day i wish to be back to sleep with you in the same bed, i want you to call for my name again, i wish if i can be with you again my heart. بحبك وبالرغم من الي صار دايما في بالي.

Idk how long I will live so I just want this to be my memory here before I die. I am not going to leave my home, come what may. My biggest regret is not kissing this one guy. He died two days back. We had told how much we like each other and I was too shy to kiss last time. He died in the bombing. I think a big part of me died too. And soon I will be dead. To younus, i will kiss you in heaven.

First kiss 16 years ago

One day, this sea will not divide us.

i hope your family knows i will love you until the day i die. i hope we meet in every life, no matter how many times you break my heart. Wo ai ni

故事从这里开始 : ) Un día te olvidaré, no importa que sea tan difícil. Me lo creo.

[virgoilluminati]

Belongings

Chapter 9 (part 1) : “Tell me what you want and you got it, love.”

(Series Masterlist)

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA RECENTLY. If u have seen any of my posts you will know I basically have had a bad time with boys over the last couple of days and I’m just been in my feels. Not really in the mood for smut. BUT I’ve finally finished this chapter and tbf I actually kinda love it! Warning it’s A LOT shorter than the other chapters, but I thought it would be better to post a half finished chapter then no chapter at all. THIS IS THE FIRST CHAPTER WITH SMUT and warning I haven’t written it in a while so if it’s a bit off please don’t hate me. Anyways love u lots, thank you for sharing my Masterlist and hopefully u will enjoy :)

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (use a condom kiddos), female recieving. Dirty talk? Idk it’s just smutty and kinda fluffy.

Word count: 1.2K

As soon as the pair made there way back to their hotel, the last thing they wanted was to be stopped by a receptionist who was promoting there alll in one buffet in the morning.

“Oh sorry- I” Y/N apologised immediately letting go of Harry’s hand which had been wrapped the whole way walking home. Harry felt his heart sunk for a minute worried that he had done something wrong. But then he realised the receptionist knew who he was, and if she knew who he was, she also may well presume y/n was his girlfriend.

“No please, I should’ve asked you sooner. Normally we ask all guest on their arrival, but you came in late last night and were out before buffet was served today, we just want to make sure we have all of the allergen and preference information.” The receptionists continued, handing them both a form to fill in. Y/N and Harry both slightly groan, knowing deep down the longer this would take, the longer before they would be able to finally spend time with each other and confess the undying sexual desire between one another.

The longer they waited, Harry also feared, the more sober they would become, and perhaps y/n would regret her decision.

“Right, that’s it all completed on my end. “ Harry said quickly, knowing he didn’t have anything he was allergic too. And the only preference he had right now was y/n.

“Me too.” Y/N replied softly, looking quickly at the receptionist before looking back at Harry.

“Ah, nuts. Right-.” The receptionist responds, making an extensive note to his computer. Harry looked over to y/n confused to why he had never known about her nut allergy, but then again it did make sense why she never served any nut related products at her bakery.

“I won’t die if I have them. But I have an epi pen just in case I go into anaphylactic shock.” She responds, wincing as the words came over her mouth. It wasn’t exactly the most sexy thing to come out, especially in a moment like this.

“Right. That’s all good - a lot of our stuff is Nut free but, let us know in the morning if there is any issues. Sorry for interrupting and uh - enjoy your night.” The receptionist apologised, before opening the hotel door for the couple.

As soon as the door closes, Harry and Y/N burst into laughter unable to contain the tension any longer. “That’s not how I was expecting my night to go-.” Harry laughs, before looking over to y/n who was holding it in.

“Yes. Nut allergy isn’t very uh- sexy.” Y/N respond giggling before attempting to take on of her heels off. “Help.” She responds, leaning on Harry for some height as she slipped her heel off. Giggling, he leans down and before y/n can complain, he whisks her up into his arms, attempting to carry her up the stairs. “Harry what are you-“

“Shhhh, I’m trying to create the mood again-.” Harry whispers before glancing down at y/n’s boobs, which were now squashed up against his chest. “You little-“

“What-“

“Your staring at my tits.”

“No I’m not-“ Harry replied, his eyes suddenly focused on the wallpaper. “This wallpaper is very nice, cream I think-.” Y/N playfully rolls her eyes, before letting him to continue to carry her up the stairs. The whole time the sexual tension in the air began to increase, with y/n focused entirely on the large bulge beginning to stiffen in Harry’s trousers.

As soon as they stood outside Harry’s door, he slowly drops y/n down before the two look at each other with complete lust. Harry looks down at her boobs once again, but this time admiring her beauty as a whole.

“Your doing it again-“ Y/N responds, this time in a more subtle tone. Her lips begin to bite, as she begins to feel the bulge against her leg.

“To be fair, they’re some of the prettiest tits, I’ve ever seen. “ He responds his eyes entirely focused on reading y/n. Y/n playfully slaps him before, pulling him in for another kiss, their foreheads pressed together.

Harry couldn't understand why a woman so beautiful would choose to marry a man like Will. He found it puzzling and couldn't comprehend what qualities or attributes Will possessed that would make him an appealing partner for someone of such beauty. Harry wondered if there were hidden qualities or deeper connections between them that he was unaware of, as he struggled to see the apparent compatibility between their appearances and perceived personalities.

But right now, She was his. And his only.

“Harry, as much as I’d love to be all sexy and tease this all night long, I can’t- I need you.” Y/N responds, and without another word Harry picks y/n up, cradling her arse, before opening the door and throwing her onto the bed.

Y/N excited by this change in character begins to take her clothes off, as Harry shuts the door. Not wanting anyone to ruin his moment. However when he turns back around, he stops her, before looking sincerely in her eyes.

“Y/N, I - before we go any further. I need to make sure, you know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want too-.”

“I know Harry. I know. But I trust you. 100%. And I just want you to touch me.” She responds before beginning to unbutton his shirt. He looks at her genuinely, making sure there is no regret in her eyes, and once he is sure he has her consent, he forces her to stop once more.

“Harry - I told you. I’m fine- I-“ Harry doesn’t let her finish her sentence before he pushes her up against the bed frame, and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. “On your front.” He responds, almost ripping her dress completely.

Y/N moans in response turning over so her body is exposed, only constricted by her underwear. She was wearing a set of black lingerie. Her boobs heaving through the lace, whilst her panties, looked drenched from anticipation.

Right there and then Harry could feel himself explode. Numerous times he had imagined what she would look like undressed. But here, as she lay before him, completely under his spell, she couldn’t look ever more beautiful than before.

Y/N's bust is a prominent feature, displaying an ample and shapely size that adds an element of allure to her overall appearance. Her waistline is beautifully contoured, cinching in to create a striking hourglass shape that showcases her feminine curves. This captivating contrast between a smaller waist and curvier hips emphasizes her figure in an enchanting way.

The curves continue to captivate as they flow down to Y/N's hips. Her hips are delightfully wide and full, accentuating her lower body with elegance and grace. Along with her generous hips, Y/N may possess a fuller and rounded buttocks and thighs, contributing to the captivating allure of her curvy physique.

“What.” Y/N asks as Harry stands there smirking, his eyes full of joy. He wanted to tell her everything. How he was in love with her and that her physical beauty only further enhanced his inability to give her up to someone like Will. But he didn’t, instead he just placed a kiss gently on her lips, before beginning to cascade down to below her thighs.

“Your just beautiful, tha’s all.”

As Y/N heard Harry's words, her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and validation. To be called beautiful by someone like Harry, who was known for his experiences with many women, held a special significance for her. It was a compliment that transcended the surface-level remarks she had received in the past.

Will, had often complimented her appearance, calling her pretty and appreciating her figure. While those compliments were undoubtedly appreciated, being called beautiful by Harry held a deeper resonance. It made Y/N feel seen and cherished for more than just her physical attributes.

“Harry-.” She moans as she feels his tongue teasingly taste her panties, hot air beginning to flow towards his thighs. Without another word, he bites hard on her underwear, ripping them down to the feet, allowing him more access to her body. “You’re so wet y/n. All for me?”

“All for you Harry, all for - fuck.” Before she can finish her sentence, Harry pushes her legs over his shoulders, allowing him to lick a long strip of her pussy. After getting a moan of approval, he begins to speed it up, allowing y/n to be all immersed.

Y/N could feel shock waves go through her body. She had had people go down on her before. But my gawd, no one else was able to do it the way he was doing it right now. Will had once attempted to do it, and well let’s just say, it was better left alone. Where’s Harry, was twirling his tongue along her clit, finding everything that would set off triggers in her body.

“Fuck Harry, your so good at that-.” She moans, as Harry grabs her boobs with one of his hands whilst the other held y/n in place, placing her constantly under the spell of his tongue.

Harry knew he was good at eating pussy. Which is why, seeing the women he loved completely undone with his tongue, made him feel like a fucking god. Here she was lying half naked, one hand on her other boob, whilst the other held onto the sheets, all immersed in allowing Harry to treat her right.

Harry begins to fasten up his movements, his motivation focused on collecting all of the juices which leaked from her pussy. Before placing one finger in her hole. Y/N hums in pleasure, feeling a similar sensation begin to boil in her stomach.

“Harry fuck-“ She responds, her hand suddenly tugging at the roots of his hair, needing the further friction on her body. He hums in response, his tongue never leaving her clit, constantly tormenting her release. His fingers begin to fasten up on hole, until he adds another.

“Harry, I’m fuck, I’m gonna -.” Before she can say anymore Harry begins fingering her rapidly, his tongue with none stop pace on her clit. He can feel her begin to burst, and to be next to her pussy as he does so, was nothing but stuff in fairytales.

With one big moan, y/n feels the release enter her body, her eyes looking up at the sky. She feels herself begin to shake, overwhelmed from the amount of pleasure, done just by the use of her tongue. “Fuck Harry- your good at that.”

Harry smirks again, before leaning over to bring her into a much deeper kiss, the taste of her pussy, sliding into her own mouth. Harry hums as he feels y/n begin to frantically pull down Harry’s shirt, and undo his belt. She was desperate to give something to him, to pay him back for what he did to her. But with a stern grab of her hands, Harry stops her.

“As much as I would love to see that pretty lips wrapped around my dick, if I wait any longer I think I’ll explode.” Harry responds, causing a desired reaction from y/n. In response she moves faster to take his jeans off, as Harry unattaches y/ns bra from her back, exposing two large breasts at his dismantle.

As soon as both Harry and Y/N were both naked, They stood at the end of the bed, y/n’s legs high up in the air, as Harry, let his dick slide into her. As soon as she felt comfortable, he began to fasten up his movements, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he would cum.

“Shit- You have no idea, how long I have wanted to do this-.” Harry grunts, his eyes rested only on y/ns, whose rose in anticipation.

“Fuck, Harry.” Y/N moans, feeling his dick completely open up her walls. The more he moved in and out of her the more, she realised that his dick, fit hers perfectly. And there was no one else who could live up to this pleasure-,”

“Look so pretty when you take my dick, don’t y’ princess.” Harry moans, his free hand going to grab ahold of her breast, the other fastening up his pace. Harry could feel his release coming, the louder y/n’s moaning became.”

“That’s it, princess. Tell everyone, who you belong to, who makes you feel this way.”

“Harry, I can feel it-.” Y/N moans, feeling her own high coming again closer and closer.

“Fuck-. Whose this body belong to-.” Harry asks, his eyes frozen on y/ns whimpering state. Y/N in pleasure dosen’t reply, still overwhelmed by this sudden change in Harry.

“Y/N, d’you hear me? Who does this body belong to?.”

“-Y-You.”

“I didn’t quite hear you there princess-“

“Y-you, y-you harry! Please cum for me. Let me take it-.” Y/N yells, allowing Harry to fully welcome his high, his cum spilling inside of her. As soon as he finished, y/n and Harry lie in a state of shock, unable to fully express what has just happened.

The pair lay there for about another 10 minutes, in a comfortable silence, realising that not only had they seen each other naked for the first time, but also they had just had sex. But both also knew, they did not regret it one bit.

“So…. That-“

“That was amazing. Haz. I don’t know what else to say-“ y/n sighs, her hand, placed firmly above her pillow. Harry hums in response before taking her hand, clutching it slightly and pulling the duvet over both of their bodies.

“You still don’t regret it?”

“Are you kidding, Harry, of all of the horrible things I have done to Will. This is not one of them. Y’know how long, it’s been since -“

“Oh, oh.”

“Yeah.” She giggles slightly, before Harry props himself on the pillow, his eyes suddenly filled with concern.

“Wait- shit, should I have done something more romantic. I had no idea, I just presumed, so you and Will never-.”

“No. We did. Once - it ended in disaster.” Y/N winces explaining how Will couldn’t get it up and then when he did, y/n had already fallen asleep from drinking too much prior. The story made her laugh, and Harry knew deep down, she was beginning to regret ever falling for Will in the first place.

“Your cute when you laugh.” Harry states randomly, placing a finger on her cheek. It startles y/n a bit, before she lets him continue, her eyes locked in his green pearls. “I hate my laugh.” She responds cringing.

“What? Why?!.” Harry sounded outraged that she let herself feel that way. He loved her laugh, the way her eyes would narrow and her little freckles would be crinkled.

“I don’t know. I just always have- it gives me wrinkles. I guess I've just always been self-conscious about it," Y/N admitted softly. “Unable to take her seriously Harry let’s put a loud laugh. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are too young for wrinkles.” He responds, caressing her cheek.

“Besides, wrinkles or not, your the prettiest girl I have ever met. And I know, this isn’t the way I hoped it would happen, but I am so happy that we finally found each other.” He responds admiring her natural beauty.

Y/N blushed at Harry's words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth in her chest. She couldn't help but smile at his laughter and the affectionate way he caressed her cheek. His words touched her deeply, and she realized how lucky she was to have him in her life.

She leaned in closer, resting her forehead against his. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The world felt still as they basked in each other's presence.

Harry smiled tenderly, his thumb gently tracing circles on her cheek. "You are beautiful, Y/N, you're perfect to me." They stayed like that for a while, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Y/N realized that her insecurities melted away in Harry's presence. His love and acceptance made her feel comfortable in her own skin.

“I will tell Will-.” Y/N responds immediately changing the mood to much more serious. “Mmm, do we have to mention that now, we were having a moment.” Harry winces realising the extent of what they had done.

Harry's expression turned serious as he understood the weight of Y/N's words. He knew they couldn't ignore the situation and needed to address it, even if it meant disrupting the wedding plans.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "I've been holding onto something for far too long, and it's not fair to anyone involved," Y/N admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to tell Will that I can't go through with the wedding because my heart belongs to you."

Y/N smiled gratefully at him, feeling a sense of reassurance in his presence. They both knew it wouldn't be an easy conversation, but it was necessary for everyone involved to find their happiness.

"We'll talk to him as soon as possible," Y/N said, determination lacing her words. "I want to be honest with him and give him the respect he deserves."

Harry nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "And I'll be by your side every step of the way."