#i hate when they perceive us like it makes me cringe so bad not even in a fun way

[yakkitylylac]

heehee hoo i love anxiety i love being anxious over people not reblogging my stuff

[nickel156]

I was scrolling through your blog and it got me thinking that I've literally never seen a logical, fact based elriel argument because they always fall back on some negative perceived assumption. For example, people only ship Gwynriel because they want to self-insert, because they hate elain, because they only care about Lucien. Or the ones that are just pure made up conjecture i.e., Gwynriel can't happen because Gwyn isn't ready, because Azriel will always love Elain, because Elain and Az are true mates (lol). Even worse that third party articles are somehow the word of SJM herself. They truly have no recourse against the simple math that SJM is a fated mates author, that from a dramatic story telling standpoint Elucien has by FAR the most plausibility and Gwynriel follows it, but Elriel has quite literally no obstacles unless SJM suddenly pivots her career into writing tiktok-ready forbidden romance and we get 800 pages of contrived "Nooo we can't be together" "But I want you so bad baby" cringe. They seriously do not have a pot to shit in. Praying we only have to suffer this for another week.

I'm glad you enjoy my opinions enough to scroll through my blog 😅

They really don't have any factual evidence to support their convoluted theories!

We will even debunk those theories because they can't be supported and they'll come up with another!

I also find it hilariously ironic how they'll claim we're the ones self-inserting.

Bitch, you're literally the ones self inserting as soft, sweet Elain with a batboy. 😆 They just want him for his wingspan and don't actually understand him as a character AT ALL!

From my readings, I've found more Eluciens that actually like Elain than Elriels. Because we understand (or try to) her character and we want her in an actual healthy non-toxic relationship. We don't find her boring we know her character is just not developed yet.

Elucien x Gwynriel = Everyone is happy

I swear to the mother, if one more Elriel tries to tell me Gwyn can't be with Azriel because.. I'll yeet them. Idk how, but I will!

Do not get me started on Azriel and Elain being mates. The cauldron was tampered with garbage. I could go on the longest tangent on how this is the stupidest shit I've ever heard. Or how Elain has two mates, which totally defeats the whole premise of them.

Just comes down to their shared brain cell.

There is no forbidden romance as I've shown evidence that Elain and Azriel aren't sneaking around. (But they come with a THEORY to disprove it)

They also want her to train with Azriel, which is also hilarious. Tell me you don't understand Elain without telling me you don't understand Elain.

Considering they have no actual evidence of their ship, they have to use songs and articles or they'd have nothing to go on.

Elriel died in that BC

I am first and foremost an Elucien. I know from the context and sjm herself that they are endgame. I do love Gwyn though, and she's a great way for everyone to get their HEA.

They laugh at us when we say she's a fated mates author but fail to realize how accurate it is.

And we try to make it as easy as possible to for their one brain cell to comprehend..

But I guess even the easiest answer goes above their heads.

Elain and Lucien will have tension, healing and growth TOGETHER

Anything they come up with is irrelevant.

The day isn't over! It could still come Anon!!

Xoxo

[galar-abortion-clinic]

🍀🧠🥊🎓 For Jules, Mauly, and Rory! Just curious about these three!

(Jules is getting his own post since someone else asked about him, so stay tuned. Same twat time, same twat channel)

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Conceptually, both Mauly and Rory are two sides of the same coin. At first I only had Mauly, but I decided to extract a few traits from her and squelch those out into their own character so that her personality wouldn’t feel so totally neutered by incompetence. She’s a little more idealized, whereas Rory is my worst fear of what I could turn out to be, or how other people might perceive me

Mauly is impulsive, brash, self-serving, and arrogant. She’s unapologetically angry, horny, and human. Rory is all of those things, but deeply insecure and constantly overcompensating. He’s pathetic and he makes me sick. Basically he boils down to “sid vicious if he were a bit less of a dick, purely because he’s subdued by cowardice”

Design-wise? Kalos’ rendition of the Punk Guy/Girl trainer class, man. I fell in love instantly. Also this one specific tank girl page:

Good shit

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Mauly takes no shit. Sure, that might mean she leaves a bad taste in some people’s mouths, but she knows when she deserves to be treated better. Something I’ve always struggled with has been not standing up for myself because I’m worried it’ll hurt or inconvenience other people. Mauly says fuck those other people, It’s not my job to accommodate anyone else’s existence by minimizing my own. Her whole arc is about self-acceptance through ambivalence. “Even if i don’t love myself, i can’t change who I am. You’re not going to change me either, and you look stupid for trying”

Rory’s best use to me is catharsis. I’ve shoved all the shit I hate about myself into this guy and exaggerated it by queefzillion, and it feels reassuring to see him being knocked down a peg for behaving like a little wart. It also feels kind of nice when he still manages to find occasional kindness in spite of his many, many glaringly hideous flaws.

🥊 - What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Mauly was one of those kids who every adult in her life would describe as “so creative” and “a free spirit”, which is actually grown-up code for “this poor bastard’s gonna be a starving artist and we’re hiding our disappointment”. If she had the means to create more often, she’d have a lot of fun honing her craft and fully leaning into art as an outlet for her angst

Because she’s so hands-on and skilled at improvised patching and the like, she often gets stuck with repair responsibilities by the other schmucks she lives with. She doesn’t mind slapping duct tape over stuff several times over or whacking things with a hammer til it fits right, she just would prefer not being assigned that job by other people. Never tell her what to do

Rory’s nimble fingers don’t only make him a passable thief, but also a possibly-not-the-worst musician. He’s never played for anyone else, which might be why he kinda sucks, but it’s one of the few things he keeps to himself instead of bloating to give his delicate ego some padding. His songbook is loaded with edgy cringe, but its the sort of raw soul-bearing stuff that reminds you there’s a person in there. Not a great person, but a person

Anyway something he hates doing is uhhhhhh giving to charity,

🎓- How long have you had the OC?

Mauly’s been around ffffforrrrrr i wanna say maybe two years now? For a long time she was just an idea in my head, i didn’t wanna touch that idea til i knew exactly what i wanted to do with it

Rory’s my freshest OC, only been around for like a month. Not even. Could still use some fine tuning

Bonus: some VERY rough first drafts of Mauly that’re a little closer to the source material (excuse the positively grimy state of the paper, i dont take very good care of my sketchbooks)

[goremet-chef]

guhh im so bothered rnn (vent/rant)

so... i? idk. ive been out as trans in my house since 2020. my mom doesnt call me dom (sometimes she does if my sibling encourages her to, but she defaults back to my deadname anyways) and ive learned to accept it. i dont think she ever will and its sad for me, the reality that once i start my transition, ill need to just.. leave a lot of my family behind. they think its some rebellious choice like i hate all of them but im more worried about them hating me

my mom says shes supportive but is actively right wing, shes having an inner battle with her ideologies, i know that. i can tell by how she talks about homeless people vs how she talks about us being queer

so. whatever. thats my mom i guess. but for a long time, i wasnt out to my moms husband. i despise him and ive never intentionally started a conversation with him, let alone come out. ive started to not care about what he thinks. i know what he thinks, he thinks gays should die, said it straight to my gay siblings face. okay, cool. doesnt concern me, moms bf is absolutely fucking nothing to me.

to remedy this sort of like... we didnt wanna DEAL with what he might say if he heard both my siblings calling me dom, cuz both of them do, so whenever theyre around they would just refer to my deadname, but i saw it made them cringe, so now everyone calls me 'that one child'

that one, other one, etc etc

no one even calls me my name anymore

it makes me feel so hopeless. ive EXPRESSED it makes me upset but my younger sibling doesnt care (the one most guilty of it), because they dont understand why it upsets me, i guess thats enough reason to keep going

its so dehumanizing to be reduced to actually nothing. i ALREADY have heaps and heaps and HEAPS of identity issues. sometimes it gets so bad i start having crazy ass delusions, sometimes im not even present and its a different part of my mind in my body

its hard enough as is!!! now my family wont call me anything at all

it makes me feel less bad about leaving, but i dont think ill ever leave at this rate

need to start T, change my name, get a job, all in that order. starting T seems impossible at this rate. i.. dont know what to do. i cant keep LIVING like this, because im not living at all

i never leave my house because im too ashamed in how i look, i cant BEAR the thought of anyone else perceiving me as female, i cant fucking do it!!! im so tired. my house is like a prison for me, genuinely.

and my family dont get it, obviously. they think its my choice, im some kind of hermit who doesnt care about being outside because i have internet. they are so fucking wrong. i miss going out, i miss being around people, i miss existing like everyone else, but i just cant do it man. not like this

so it becomes a waiting game, when am i gonna bring up starting it? how do i even move forward once i do? what if she says no? id have to do it on my own but i cant.. i cant even order things for myself without freezing like shutting up will get me out of there, i cant fucking do it

she doesnt even know!! we were in the car together and she was like yknow theres people who cant even make a doctors appointment. what losers.

IM losers, would she have said that if she knew? does she know and decided to say it anyways? i dont know, but its just.. everything seems so hopeless at this point. i want to just give up, accept im not gonna be who i truly am, but man i cant stand being any more miserable

it makes me wanna cry, the only time i get to feel myself how i think i should be is either if i draw something fictitious, or if i spend hours in the mirror making sure i look masculine, my mustache is convincing, etc. AND FOR WHAT? literally for fucking WHAT, because i dont leave the house anyways!!!!! dolled up like i have somewhere to be, like my appearance will get me what i want, when im stuck at home! i got nothing to prove to them, they think what they think

its fucking dreadful. im so scared of my life passing me by, and here i am wasting away in my bedroom for the last 3 years. no progress, nothing. at first, i was scared about even starting T because theres a higher risk of heart disease, but. i dont fucking care if it KILLS me. i dont care!!! if it kills me i dont fucking care im not living the life i want to live anyways. the risk of death is worth it at this point, i mean that so seriously

idk. im just tired, is all. i wish everyone could perceive me the way i dream they would. only time that happens is online, or when im not with my family at all and instead with my friends. but we only hang out like. once in a blue moon

and yknow what? im not even safe then. i remember we were at my friends house for halloween last year (we always meet up). i had my full leatherface costume one, my face was touched up to make it look like the mask. and still. dressed that way, when my friends mom asked me what my name was, i said dom and she was immediately like. "oh, dominique?" no. my name is fucking DOMINIC.

i didnt say anything besides correcting her, but it was such a blow, man. the only time ill be happy is if im closely monitoring every single thing i do, to make sure i dont appear feminine at all. no matter how i look, now matter how deep my voice is. miserable. why would anyone think that id choose this

[oldguardleatherdog]

CW: Looooooong post

https://werewolfbarista.tumblr.com/post/697188935986708480/now-that-tumblr-user-hypnokinkdoggo-seems-2-have

This is about me. My termed blog @hypnokinkdoggo is being used to heap abuse and hate speech on me based on my age, disability, 9/11 injury, HIV status, and perceived mental state.

People are actually encouraging others to search for my posts and artifacts and continue harassing and abusing me. Check out some of the more toxic comments that have been slung my way:

This began with @commonpigeon in August 2022 and has caused me to be ridiculed by more than 9,000 people.

Repeated reports have been ignored.

I'm finding more of these all the time.

Cyberbullying is against the law. So is online hate speech.

I have hundreds of screenshots of what's been posted and I'm gathering more each day. Anti-harassment resources are out there, and I'm using them.

As I muck through this cesspool of violence and hate targeting me, I've been posting excerpts here with context and commentary. Some will be springboards for monographs I'll post here where I will explicate a hate comment and find the connection to our fight against the storm of RW laws etc. coming our way.

I'm not "calling people out" or encouraging others to make trouble for these posters: they're overwhelmingly Gen Z, with all the purity culture, casual cruelty, and lack of self-awareness and basic human decency that years of 4chan and bad parenting and moral numbness and MAGA have wrought on these kids.

But if you look at their blogs, they're trans, furries, queers, kinksters, pup players, artists, fandom experts, writers, students and more who fill their spaces with beauty and musings and song and art of their own creation and self-healing and introspection that's remarkably perceptive, sometimes moving, even profound.

They're capable of compassion and caring about strangers who just might be queer, furry, kinky, GNC, pups, seekers, writers, and fighting for trans rights - *their* rights - in ways not so different from their own.

But they refuse to show that care and compassion to me, and I don't have the slightest idea as to why I've been singled out and targeted for the most horrific and vile abuse I've ever seen in 60 years of hard living.

And it's not because of my identity, or anything I did that was controversial, or any political or cultural stance of mine, or that I behaved in an antisocial way or slurred anyone with hate or threats -

Its because a 20-year-old girl in Scotland found a stoned 3 AM post I made on a religion thread that was, well, a stoned 3 AM post about religion (I was a Lutheran seminarian and LGBTQ+ equality activist in the 90's) Stream-of-consciousness, rambled a bit, but nothing at all remarkable.

She copied my post from the blog where I'd replied, and she reblogged that *stolen* post for the express purpose of "dissecting" it for ridicule by her followers, and they obliged. Hard. Gleefully. Death wishes toward me included. Done just for laughs, for entertainment, for the lulz.

When I posted some of this a while ago, a follower of mine said, "I feel like the worst part is that they're not even like, 'I'm x-phobic and I hate you', this is just like, a Thursday night for them, it seems".

I've spent my life fighting - effectively - for our community from the minute I came out. Queer Nation, ACT/UP, med cannabis, marriage equality, trans rights, I've been there and I'm still here.

I'm not about to give up. There are too many younger than me who have been asking me to share my experiences with them, and I'm eager to do just that. I know how to fight the fascists with tactics you won't find online; they're in my activist heart, and they're yours for the asking.

For a useless cringe pervo insane grandpa on death's door whose ancient presence here is scandalous, I've got a good supply of wisdom and understanding. But with this, I am at a loss, and no one I know can figure it out.

I'm fighting for my own justice here. Thanks for reading. Peace.

[simp4eshal]

Baby you're the meanest

Sullivan Bellingham CC

“I thought you’d wait for me ?”

His gaze is soft looking, and you barely perceive the glint of sorrow hiding behind them.

You didn’t really expect to see him at this party.

He smiles softly and it’s like everything is right again. Your heartbeat accelerates, your lungs fill with love, angst, hope, lust.

“I thought you hated me ?”

Your own answer takes you by surprise. Were you always that bitchy ? You really had no business acting mad when you knew you were the one who hurted him.

He takes it. Your snarky remarks, he takes all of it if it means you’ll just talk to him.

He inspects you up and down, realizing how gorgeous you looked, your maxi black dress hugging your curves perfectly, and suddenly he heard the song playing in the background, and it felt like it was about you.

Les by Childish Gambino.

Baby you’re the baddest, baby you’re the baddest girl.

“Come with me ?”

You follow him swiftly as he makes his way up the stairs, you couldn’t say no, not to him.

He struggles a bit to find a room, stumbling across the empty bathroom and a couple making out before realizing there’s no room available.

“Well, looks like we won’t hook up and ignore each other today, huh ?”

Even though you feel a slight pain at the words you let out, it was true. Always the same scenario. The both of you fucking, you dressing up and leaving once it’s done, him crying, begging you to stay. But you couldn’t. And you felt bad, and he felt bad too, he wanted to stop.

But you were his drug, his fentanyl.

“We’ll make it work. We’ll hook up today, love”

You slightly blush, and also slightly cringe. But it was him, it was him. So it was okay, for the time you’ll be together, you’ll allow it to be okay. You needed it to be okay.

“Okay then. Remember how the bathroom’s empty ?”

A smirk makes its way on his rosy and plump lips, and you ask yourself,

Are you ready to cry ?

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

I hope nobody catches us, but I kinda hope they catch us.

His hips moved easily against your own, skin slapping, panting breaths flooding past both your lips.

It felt so good, you felt so good, and he never wanted it to stop. But looking at your face in the mirror, at your plump ass slapping against his pelvis, at your arched back accentuating your small waist, he just knew that it won’t be humanly possible.

God you were a blessing and a curse at the same time.

But he loved you so much, he would be damned everyday of his life if it meant he’ll be able to be by your side.

Nobody else matters, nobody else matters girl.

And when your moans get a little higher, he knows the end is near, that soon it’ll all be done, and you’ll leave without looking back, without caring about his sobs, his pleading words, him.

So he thightens his grip on your full hips, grounding him somehow, helping him stay calm, because you don’t want to see him cry while he’s raw dogging you, what the fuck ?

And so it goes on, and he feels his dick throb inside you, and you feel your walls clench around him, his hand finding your sensitive clit, circling it gently, putting just the right amount of pressure to send you over the edge.

Just the sound of your moans filling the bathroom is enough to make him cum, faint moans that he knows he’ll be embarrassed of later escaping from his red stained lips, a reminder of your lips against his.

Silence is the only thing he hears in the room, paired with your breath, trying to calm down, coming down from your highs.

And then it starts. You put your dress down again, not even bothering to put your panties back on because they’re ruined.

“Please…”

You act as if you can’t hear him. You always do. His heart starts hurting again, his throat contracting, blocking his breathing.

And he panics again, as if he doesn’t know how it ends, as if he’s not used to it by now. But it never really sits right with him, because he somehow always hopes that this time will be different? But it never does, and a little part of you feel sorry for him, really. He is pathetic.

“Please, just wait…just…please.”

You’re already standing by the door by now, back facing him, eyes set on the door handle. You sigh.

“Take care Sullivan.”

The door closes. You’re gone. Again.

A scoff erupts in the silence you left, and this time, surprisingly he doesn’t cry. No tears, no cries, no panic attacks, nothing. He is numb, no emotions swimming in his heart, drowning his insides with love, anger, jealousy and so on.

Then he realizes.

You broke him.

Baby you’re the baddest, baby you’re the baddest girl.

He wondered if he could ask Childish Gambino to replace it with meanest.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

hi! i hope you’re having a nice day! so i had this question about how you manage to beat perfectionism (if you have it)? because i’m a raging perfectionist and i can’t even get myself to sit down and write anything at all. i’m so afraid of sucking and i don’t know how to get over that fear and actually start writing and getting better at it. any advice?

I absolutely struggled with perfectionism. If you haven't seen THIS video, I talk about it here! But everything you've described here was debilitating to me at one point. If you told me a few years ago that I wouldn't care if I wrote badly now, I wouldn't believe you!

The thing about writing is: you're going to suck! It's going to be bad at some points. You're going to hate the work. You're going to think it's bad. It WILL be bad! You're going to judge the work and worry about others judging it, and sometimes, others WILL judge the work. On the flip side: you're going to write amazing things. You're going to LOVE it! Other people are going to notice and also love it! Good and bad can't exist without each other (but "bad" likes to make us think otherwise haha).

When you write badly, what's the worst that's going to happen? I thought of this question a lot, and it's something I repeat to myself in the times I still feel insecure or like I need to "perfect" my work. The worst that will happen is likely: you won't like what you wrote, will set what you wrote aside, or will come back to edit it. Perhaps your fears also stretch into perception from others, and in that case, the worst thing that will happen is that someone may say "ooh I really didn't like this person's work," and what does their opinion really do to your work? It doesn't do much (it can affect self-esteem and confidence, of course, but it doesn't actually "demote" you as a writer). I know that seems like a LOT to accept, but writing is so subjective. I've probably shared work on here that people don't like, but nothing's actually happened to me because of it except for me feeling a bit embarrassed.

Accepting that my writing can be bad (and that it's okay) was the first step to getting over my perfectionism. It actually made me grateful to my work--I was brave enough to put words down on the page, what did it matter if they weren't "great?" Of course, this didn't happen overnight (the entire process took about 3 years for me). It was baby steps at first: talking myself through anticipating the fear of writing, then actually sitting down to write, then talking myself through moments of self doubt. Sometimes, the perfectionism still won, and I quit a lot--this is also part of the process! But the important part was that I kept trying even when it was very hard.

Something what also helped was identifying WHY I felt the need for my writing to be perfect. For me, this was mostly about embarrassment and fear of judgement. I felt kind of humiliated if I wrote something "bad" and thought someone else might also find it embarrassing or "cringe" (even if I WASN'T sharing it). Fear of cringe is so HUGE among writers! The thing is, you can't control how other people perceive your work, but you can control how YOU perceive your work, and since you're your #1 reader, making sure you like what you write (and just YOU) is top priority.

Another thing: I was a HUGE perfectionist because I didn't trust myself as an editor. I didn't think I was capable of making my work "better" and at times, I wasn't. But the only way to get better at editing is to practice, and practice means you're going to have "failures" or "errors." It's fine! Every single writer has this issue--you're not alone!

Finally, I also looked inward to assess why I was feeling this way beyond my internal fears. Another reason was my genre. I was constructing an identity as a "literary fiction writer" and that damaged my confidence A LOT. I love literary fiction and I still write it, but crafting an entire identity as a LitFic Writer was personally damaging for me because any step I made that "strayed" from this identity made me feel unstable. I realized that my art isn't supposed to do that to me because I don't WANT it to. That's when I made changes and introduced more "fun" and lightness into my process again (I now write both genre and literary at the same time)!

A bit of a "practical" approach: at one point, I decided to start a brand new novel in a genre I had zero experience in and write the opening 10k words of it in a day. This SLASHED my perfectionism because I quite literally had NO TIME to overthink the work (even when I wanted to). Not practical for everyone, but it helped me astronomically because at the end of it, I wasn't like "ugh I hate these words," I was like, "WOW, I'm so proud of myself for writing this much in one day and getting so far into this new project." Super short writing sprints (1-3 minutes) can be helpful for this too.

Hope this helps, I've been here, and I can tell you that it can get better from here, it just takes a couple changes and some persistence! You sort of have to practice not being a perfectionist, just as you practice writing--it's hard, but very rewarding!

[izzysdiary003]

Drove really well to tesco today! Proud that i can drive after a 9 week break from it. Headache all the time (even iller now i’ve stopped doing stuff and am home?). L still thinks liking dan and phil is embarassing and posted about it. I think that is more embarassing for her. I feel bad for people who are too worried about what’s cringe to enjoy themselves. With exceptions (kkg) i am so reluctant to shit on stuff which used to make me so excited…. I love the past me that loved stuff like mcr so much. Passion is one of the greatest things a person can have.

However i am still desperate to be as cool/interesting/perceived as her. Obsession and jealousy lingers. She posts about her notes app, i look through my own to see what is post-worthy. I feel the need to read and do cool stuff solely when i see others do it. This is bad!

I cannot let the rot set in this holiday! I am gna read and sleep early tn, get up earlier tomorrow and do things. Start couch to 5k, eat nice food, start my greek and latin. I could even find a new spot to do it.

I should really get in touch with people too. People are all we’ve got.

I love that i’m rewatching the hunger games with my family. Catching fire last night. This resurgence is the best thing to happen this year in pop culture…

I love those corecore videos where someone smashes a plate and then there are these vague liminal videos that reaffirm life as interesting and emotional and fast paced. I think right now is a very limited way to live - at home in a small town, dark at 4pm, tired and ill. I need a richer internal world for sure or i’ll get devastatingly bored not running through fields or living under city lights.

I got a video talking about the bad side effects of anorexia today. Hair loss. Always cold. Loss of bowel control. How awful that all is. Yes i want to be a little skinnier but do i really? Its so not something i can let myself romanticise. I see girls w a little meat on their bones and i think they’re so gorgeous. That could be me.

I really need to learn to eat healthy ish and exercise but not be consumed with guilt. I definitely gain a feeling of control from calorie checking stuff. This is okay for now but could be bad. Let’s work on it! If i gained weight, would that really be so terrible? Would people value me less? I fucking hope not and i know they wouldn’t. I want to be strong.

I dont know why i care about L so much in the way that i measure up my life to hers to assume my successes and failures. Who fucking cares if she is skinnier than me. It’s not a competition! Imagine if she knew that i even thought about that…

My friends tell me that i am funny and interesting. It’s true. I need to get that into my head and work on my self confidence so severely. Low self esteem is legit at the core of every problem i have.

Not liking yourself is stressful (what did i say? Did i embarrass myself? I’ve made them hate me forever!). It’s lonely. It’s time-consuming (what do i eat next? And next? And next?). It makes you a narcissist!

I also need to stop watching porn. Bad habit which will only get worse! It’s when i admit these things that i realise this diary must be just for me. I feel like im writing with an audience in mind until i say unglamorous stuff like this. But u do what u gotta do for the God of Self-Improvement.

I’ll say this to myself. I love you! You have got this! You are worthy! You are trying!

[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.

[shit-taster-connoisseur]

hi I saw you were taking asks about mark and rebecca so I thought I'd send one over because I absolutely adore your takes on them!! I'd love to know how you perceive their relationships with the other characters - friends, enemies, partners, crushes, etc :)

DHIXBDD HOWDY AND THANK YOU!! My takes on them are all over the place tbh

Before I actually start- I don't think too deep into their relationships so uhhhh please don't expect a 10 page analysis on them. Hopefully read more works on mobile if not uhhhhhhhh sorry in advance

Gonna start with the obvious Kyle:::

Personally I love the guy but Mark? Not so much. He's always had this personally bias against him for some reason, despite yknow beating his ass in 3rd grade(I think) Like Mark thinks he's suppose to keep this hate against him for what Kyle did to his sister, but in high school obviously that shit in him died but outta pride(or something similar) Mark countinues to subconsciously hate him and just dreads interacting with him.

Kyle and Rebecca's relationship or lack of- gotta be honest Rebecca just avoids cuz the whole dance biz, and she still cringes at the memory and thinks Kyle hates her. He doesn't, but won't stop her thinking so- but in an au, I love tbe thought of Platonic Kybecca, this is the part I cant go into too deep cause I unfortunately haven't thought abt the dynamic alot, but I have an au based around these two hopefully I can actually get rhe stage of making it

Nowwww onto friends

My main friend group for these two are David, Gary, and Cotswolds siblings//I'm not sure how i conjured that combination into existence but hey! I have been running with it for a long time.

How exactly they became friends? I'm not sure either. My brain also tricked me into thinking Gary was homeschooled before he comes to South Park- So he found that common ground with the Mark and Rebecca and ran with it, after he sitting himself at their lunch table in the corner.

Then David kinda wanted a break from the main 4's table so he just joined them at some point. The cotswolds found him and Gary alot more sane than most South Park residents and alot more nicer...Rebecca was won over by them but did take awhile to communicate that, sooo Gary&David were a little hesitant to hang out with her 1-on-1 cause they thought she was still nervous abt them

Mark hates South Park, he's leaving once he has a job and a scholarship outta the country. Yeahhhhh he wasn't too welcoming to David and Gary at first, but he gave pretty mixed signals, ei: inviting them them to places, going to their houses, showing up at David's parent restaurant unprompted, ect...Yknow normal friend things, but he saw it as "testing" them, cuz obviously if the kids are all well and good, it has to the parents that aint! Right?!?

Yeah, Mark was pretty confused when he found out the Rodriguez and Harrison's were all pretty non dysfunctional people and were good parents//good people. Watching their family dynamics made him think alot on how his and Rebecca's parent's relationship isn't all that great.

Lead to alot of rebellious stunt, not extreme but he started taking his parents views with less of a grain of salt, and with that realized slowly his parents are assholes- Rebecca also realized this, but is kinda use to shutting up and keeping her head down she never says anything against it.

Moving on!! David and Gary are pretty understanding of this, and there friendship and homes turned into solace for the siblings^^ Wish i could ramble more abt them but I'm very bad at writing down my thoughts💀

___

Mark's enemies: Leslie, Terrance, Estella, and some more people but these three came off the top my head.

Leslie seems like the type to correct Mark's grammar while speaking, Every. Time.

Mark: "Look you failure of an ai, your-"

Leslie: "*You're."

Mark: "....What"

She gets on his nerves without even trying. And lemme tell you, Mark hates getting corrected so he'd end up going off on her for hours while she just sits there. Then she spends the next hour correcting Mark again. Its pretty one-sided now that I think of it. Mark just seeks her out to best her and she just plays along cause she's bored.

Now onto Terrance. There can only be one smart ass know-it-all, and its Mark! He's had a few school projects that Terrance did by himself so he didn't have to deal with a partner. Well Mark was pretty pissed abt that, when Mark confronted him the next time they had project together they competed to finish it the day of- Yeah they lost alot of beauty sleep that night. So there dynamic is like a academic rivalry.

Now for Estella. Shes a bitch. So is Mark. He was alright with her when she was just a rich capitalist scrum from a distance. Instead she just had to start hanging around Rebecca, and being an overprotective brother he was he started antagonizing her whenever alone, vice versa. They constantly butt heads especially when it comes to Rebecca–Normally Mark wouldn't care who his sister befriends or hangs out with, but Estella is all around a prick and a spoiled brat, so who knows what she'd do to his sister if Estella doesn't get what she wants?

Rebecca's enemies: tbh idk if she has anything against anyone. Probably Terrance? Terrance because y'know his rivalry with her brother, but they barely interact for the most part.

___

Finally getting to my fav part of this ask, crushes/partners, because it gives me any excuse to talk abt Rebstella!!

How they met was Mark's fault, he was an acquaintance of Gregory's(Who hc as Estellas twin!!) At some point their groups collided and Estella thought she was cute and was slightly intrigued by her, Rebecca was kinda awkward the first time they met so she had really no opinion on Estella that day. Estella had no plans to do anything with that thought, unfortunately she let that comment slip and got tired of the Foregien kid's teasing and decided to try befriend her.

They did take awhile to offically to do so given each of their reservations, and during that time Estella slowly realized she might have a crush on her favorite brunette. The feelings were mutual, but Rebecca was very against it, she already had so much going on in her head, having a crush on her one of her bestfriends didn't help. Neither wanted to ruin the friendship so they both attempted bury it down deep with their sub consciousness.

Attempted. Yeah that didn't last that long. They grew even more smitten with each other. and Rebecca got tired of tiptoeing around it and with some encouragement from Gary, David, and Mark–despite his strong bias against Estella. Anyways she asked Estella out over text, yeah Estella took a day to reply to recover, and pratically gave Rebecca heart attack.

Their first date was at fancy restaurant that Estella reserved, all goofy smiles and pre marital hand holding. Dbkdnsidbwis Rebecca was the first to say "I love you" later on, fun fact.

I wanna say more abt them but i don't wanna take too long so I'll be moving onto Mark.

Yeah I personally don't ship him with anyone, Maybe Gary and/or David? But he dies alone no matter what/j

___

Anyways I have nothing to say but heres a doodle of the mentioned Rebecca&Kyle au

[salted-caramel-tea]

Hey let’s talk about misogyny in the gaming community

Straight off the bat I’m going to say that you don’t have to be a fan of a particular streamer if you don’t particularly enjoy their content. This isn’t saying you must be a fan of every female content creator, but more a delve into why people are more hesitant to watch female streamers

So in what ways is the community misogynist or sexist? Immediately the ‘gamer girl’ memes, the sexualisation of female streamers, and the higher standards for female streamers should come to mind.

Let’s look at these one at a time yeah??

‘Gamer girls’

Sluts with controllers, am I right?? God forbid women be attractive and play video games!!! But oh my god georgenotfound is so attractive I’m in love I’m simping for him 🥰🥰 but no!! Niki nihachu is just a slut looking for an easy way to make money. (This isn’t about George or Niki, just thought I’d use an example of the way people talk about gamers). Straight off the bat we’re excluding women from the community for being attractive, wearing make up wearing a low cut shirt etc. It’s because of these memes that women are constantly having to prove themselves as fans of a game. If they aren’t good at it, it’s game over. Think about it, if a male streamer is bad at a game it’s just a funny stream where they rage and who cares if they never play it again right? If a women is bad at a game it’s always ‘she can’t even play the game properly she’s only pretending to like it for attention’ , ‘she should just give up now’, ‘she thinks she’s a gamer but she doesn’t even know how to play the game lmaoooo what a gamer gurl’, ‘I’m a girl and I know how to play she’s just looking for attention’. That’s right ladies!! We do it too!! In fact, we’re probably more likely to shame other women for playing video games and that’s on internal misogyny!!

Sexual comments

Because have you ever seen a dono like this is male gamers chat?? Female streamers on twitch have to deal with dozens of comments about their bodies daily. They’re so sexy, they need to show some skin, they’d be prettier if they lost weight. Female streamers have mentioned that they actively try not to have sex appeal when streaming to avoid comments like these, to no avail. Even the opposite is true, people don’t watch because they’re not attractive enough. yes, the same thing can happen to a male streamer, but not to the same extent or intent that female streamers deal with daily. This comes back to the point earlier about the ‘gamer girl’ stereotype- we judge women to harshly on their appearances and it becomes a deciding factor in whether or not we watch them whether that be because they’re not attractive enough or if we perceive them as nothing more than a slut with a controller. The appearance of female streamers plays a lot into our decision to watch their content.

Higher standards

Imagine; a gamer starts to receive hate or harassing comments, what do they do? ‘Defend themselves!! Block the person!!’ I hear you all screaming. Well yeah you’re right!! But not if you’re a gamer girl. Because that means can’t take a joke, you’re too sensitive, you need to learn to relax, you need to learn to take a compliment, blocking people for complimenting you is cringe and so on. Women who respond to hate are seen as sensitive, aggressive, hormonal, or uptight. Which makes them unappealing to watch. But we love watching male creators destroy their haters. We’ve internalised the stereotype that women are docile and sweet and soft, and that women who are loud and opinionated are unattractive. So when a female streamer gets mad or yells in a way that can’t be written off as cute, we see it as uptight and unattractive and stop watching them.

This one is specific for Dream smp so like bear with me. You know when I saw captain puffy and nihachu deciding to take action and get themselves more involved in the lore of the Dream SMP I though great!!! That’s so good for them putting themselves out there!! And a lot of you did too. But that didn’t stop the ‘she’s trying to make it all about her’, ‘she needs to realise that she’s not the main character here’, ‘she can’t just insert herself into the lore like that people work hard for it and she can’t just decide to be a main character’ comments from flooding in. And I know they’re there bc I’ve seen them. These are the same people who loved ranboo developing his own storyline like less than a month into his time on the Dream SMP. (There’s nothing wrong with ranboos storyline I love it) so why was it okay for him to insert himself but not Niki or puffy??

Niki said it herself. Female gamers are talked over, are forgotten about, are always seen as an extension of a male streamer. They’re never seen as an individual person. They’re always connected to men. We don’t watch them because we see them as an accessory to someone else.

Niki was an extension of Wilbur, then fundy, now jack manifold.

We only watch Love or Host to see Minx, but we won’t watch any of her individual content.

Captain Puffy works so hard to develop her own lore as an active threat to the eggpire, but all the clips of her are from Bad’s POV.

TL;DR,, female streamers work just as hard as male streamers to create engaging streams, but the modern misogynistic media has produced a culture that stereotypes these women as acting for male attention, ultimately developing almost unattainable standards for women pursuing careers in this industry- our internalisation of these misogynistic standards skew our vision of female streamers and make them appear less appealing in comparison with male streamers in the same community.

[weasleylangs]

swipe right / f.w

Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward.  Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention.  Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)

AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........

/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!

taglist / @amourtentiaa​ @weelittleweasley​ @lumos-barnes​​ @lumosandnoxwriting​​ @loveboyhalo​​ @harrysweasleys​​ @freds-slut​​ @rcwenaclaw​​ @barneswidow​ @fandomhideout​​​

-------------

Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile. 

She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.

Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long. 

‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’

It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something. 

She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.

“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.

“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth. 

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.

“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.” 

Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”

Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!” 

“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”

Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?” 

Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.

-----

It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what. 

It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind. 

Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling. 

“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in. 

“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.

“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.” 

Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter. 

“Did you at least swipe right on me?” 

It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.” 

She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.” 

“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.” 

“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.

“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.

“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”

“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people. 

When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will. 

He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.” 

He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.” 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile. 

“Of course, Freddie.” 

She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend. 

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.

-----

To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x 

Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.

From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x

She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel. 

It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass. 

“What happened today?” 

Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.

“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up. 

“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.” 

Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him. 

Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.” 

Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?” 

“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.

“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?” 

That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”

“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking. 

“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans. 

“You told me to stop being picky!” 

“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing. 

‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.

Fred, 24. 2km away.

“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.” 

Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.” 

Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”

“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother. 

“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.  

“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”

Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

-----

Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.

From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :) 

She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.  

To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;)  > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters

She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.

From: Fred

> im 7’5 if its that important :/ 

She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.

From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :) 

The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred. 

But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.

She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.

To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x

She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.

Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of  his little brother’s best friends. 

-----

Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him. 

“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.

“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?” 

George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?” 

Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”

“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.

“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.

Is he?

“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N. 

“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly. 

“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis. 

“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.” 

Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath. 

“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.

“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy. 

“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw. 

“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom. 

-----

Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet. 

It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together. 

Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred. 

“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?” 

Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet. 

He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure. 

“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up. 

“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.

“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.” 

Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves. 

“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”

He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at. 

Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead. 

But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything. 

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.

“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment. 

They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey. 

“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?” 

“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.

Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.” 

Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant. 

“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.

“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”

“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?” 

Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?” 

He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”

They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms. 

From: Neville  > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!

She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram. 

She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick. 

She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.

That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more. 

-----

The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.  

He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen. 

“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.

“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.

“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!” 

That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-” 

“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up. 

“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.” 

Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.

“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.

“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.” 

Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.” 

She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears. 

She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.

“Can I please kiss you before I die?” 

Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced. 

Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers. 

Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life. 

“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked. 

Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”

[taysanimaladventures]

I've been training in a new string the last few days (previously hadn't because the f/t keepers days off didn't match my availability) and she told me something that's really been sticking to me.

"Enrichment, training, and doing things to make yourself a better keeper are just as important as the cleaning."

People would probably hear that and go "well duh," but to me I feel as though a mental barrier has been lifted. This statement is practically mind boggling to me.

**Gonna put a warning here because what I talk about next can be a little triggering**

If you've followed me for a while you'd know that my first few years in the zoo industry were rough. We all joke "I hate people and love animals" but the people I worked with took it to a point where it was practically bullying. I was micromanaged, insulted, yelled at, emotionally manipulated, exploited financially, made to believe I stupid or lazy or that I wasn't worth teaching or worth helping. I cried often, I dreaded going into work, I hated myself, I had some serious thoughts come up (if you're catching my drift).

I am out of that now and have been out of it since late 2018. I have since worked through my issues.... for the most part. I still get a little triggered but it's way better than it used to be. I've become more confident in speaking up about issues and what could be improved to my boss, and I no longer cringe in anticipation and panic when I mess up. My previous keeper position had its own issues but at least I was able to heal and learn "not all animal facilities" treated their workers like garbage.

However, there are still remnants of that time that still linger and it unfortunately affects the way I operate as a keeper and how I perceive myself. I am extremely tough on myself. I push myself to be a perfectionist. If it is not perfect then I'm a bad keeper, in my mind.

It has been extremely difficult to get out of that hole. I had a little freedom at my previous keeper positon because I was full time and in charge of my own stuff, but I still fussed over making things "perfect." Now that I am part time I find myself wanting to be a people pleaser and I'm constantly anxious to hear if I did a good job cleaning. This isn't even because of anyone from my current job, it's all the lingering trauma fueling me. There was a point a few months ago where that mentality was causing me to push myself so hard that I started suffering physically (it's way easier to make a small reptile habitat pristine than it is to do the same for a large hoofstock enclosure). And for what? I don't even make enough money to justify it. And if I injured myself I wouldn't even have the money for the hospital! That was the point where I told myself to please chill tf out for my own health. So I have calmed down a little. I still do everything required for my job but I actively hold myself back from being "fussy" over little cleaning details. I've been doing way better since I adopted that mentality.

Then I get to this new string, and this keeper's beliefs and what she said, and I find myself wracking my brain over it. You mean I allowed to do the fun things?? You want me to do more enrichment and try some training and spend time with the animals???? You're seriously not just ok with that but also encouraging me to do it????? It's truly mind blowing after being stuck in the mindset that I am just a drone that isn't allowed to do x or y or z for SO LONG.

She basically gave me permission to stop being an animal housekeeper and to be an actual zookeeper. I talked about this to my boss too and she also agreed as long as the basics get done first. I'm not going to run around screaming "I'm free! I'm free!!" because my brain is still going to hold me back, but I am certainly going to start dipping my toes in this. I already enjoy my job but it's going to be wonderful once I learn to embrace it. I made this long rant as a way to reflect on my own thoughts but if it also helps another wannabe keeper out there or someone else who is dealing with similar issues even if you aren't a keeper, then that's awesome.

[tiriansjewel]

Another day in the jatp fandom, another controversy. As a preface, this post is really just going to be me saying: everyone needs to fucking relax. I’m tired of people calling other people out using weighty terms for no reason, I’m tired of people harassing others over something as trivial as an actor’s view on social issues, and I’m just tired of people not staying in their own circles. That’s basically a TL;DR for you all.

So, about this blocklist. Let’s get into it, shall we?

First, my main issue with this list (and I think a lot of other people’s) is use of the words “pedophilic tendencies”. I cannot understate how harmful it is to draw a false equivalence between real, actual pedophiles and smut writers on the internet. We must remember: these are fictional characters who happen to be teenagers, not real children who can be victimized. Calling adult smut writers pedophilic trivializes actual pedophilia, child porn, and CSA. When terms are watered down like this, the term begins to lose meaning. It is okay if smut written by adults about teenagers makes you uncomfortable, but it does not make the authors themselves pedophiles. Not even close.

Second, minors write smut just like adults do. The weirdest thing about this post is the fact that other minors were knowingly included on the blocklist (ie, “most writers are adults” according to the post) which suggests that the issue is with smut itself and not with who’s writing it. As I’ve said before, it is perfectly okay if you want to avoid nsfw content (which is why we have tags, by the way), but making a blocklist based solely on explicit content where you use the word pedophilia is really “not the move”, so to speak. Here’s the thing. I’m seventeen years old, which makes me a minor. I’ve written smut for this fandom, I am writing smut currently, and I will continue to write it. To suggest that smut in and of itself is bad is strange to me. Guess what? People have sex. Teenagers have sex. It’s a part of life, and it will be included in stories about people’s lives. And in comparison to other forms of explicit content like pornography, smut is a great way for young teens who are growing into their bodies to explore and learn about sex and sexuality outside of reality in a safe, contained space.

Third, there is a very big difference between adults writing about teenagers who happen to be having sex and adults sexualizing kids through writing. I’ve been around the block a few times in explicit tags, and at least I find I can always tell the difference between these two types of content. I’d also like to say that these adults (many of whom are still in their 20s, btw) were teenagers once and grew into their sexuality just like everyone else; it’s not like they’ve been separated from the experience! As a smut writer myself, rarely do I find myself personally thinking “this is hot”. I’m writing from the perspective of a character who thinks it’s hot! There is nuance and character development and thought to writing smut, yes, even pwp fics. In this section I would also like to address the fact that several of the people on this list are my friends and mutuals in this fandom. They are all lovely people who have their own reasons for writing what they write and their reason is never “ah yes I feel like sexualizing children today”. It is very shitty to make assumptions about people you don’t know and say they have pedophilic tendencies. That’s a weighty and unfounded accusation. And no, as a minor, I have never felt uncomfortable around any of them.

Fourth, many of these writers have written wonderful non-explicit fics as well! It’s a shame to write these authors off entirely because they’ve written smut. You don’t like sex scenes? Great! Exclude E and M ratings when you browse ao3. Also, some of these adult authors write fic where they age the characters up, probably because it’s closer to their own experience and it makes them more comfortable. They are literally doing exactly what you want them to do by not creating content about minors having sex. Also, I’d like to point out that Charlie is 22, Owen is 20, and Jeremy is 24, and the majority of smut is about the boys. I don’t think I should have to explain why it’s okay for other 20 somethings to view them in a sexual context, even if their characters are 17. Regardless, many of the perceived issues with these writers as people and also with their work simply do not exist.

Fifth, the number one rule of fanfiction is don’t like, don’t read. I myself have seen several nsfw fics in the jatp tag that I have cringed at and chosen not to read because of their tags, summaries, pairings, etc. And that’s okay! But never have I sent hate to these authors, called them pedos, or made large callout posts about them. I simply ignore or block the content and go on about my day. I’m not about to “yuck someone’s yum”, as it were, and I’m not going to be the moral police and tell people some type of content is wrong in all circumstances, even if I find it personally disgusting or ethically questionable. People are always going to write whatever they feel compelled to write, and the great thing about the internet is that we all have the space to express ourselves differently. As others have said, fandom is big enough for everyone. Here’s a nice little example. I’ve been in the Narnia fandom for years now. The four main characters are siblings, so there’s a lot of incest fic. I personally dislike incest fic and think it’s morally questionable, and so do many of my mutuals. We have conversations in private spaces where we tell one another who to block to avoid seeing that content, and every time I go in the ao3 tag I filter out those pairings. But never have we made public lists calling out people we didn’t know, and never have we sent derisive comments their way. Everyone must learn to keep to their own circles and curate their own feeds for fandom to be a positive experience. Everyone must learn to listen to other people and accept that everything has nuance. Everyone must be learn to be kind. As my choir teacher says, “there is never an excuse for being rude”. And when controversy must happen, let’s all be respectful, mature, and level headed in our discourse with one another.

In conclusion, this fandom has an issue with telling people what they can and cannot do or create, and that’s wrong. Fandom is supposed to be a free, positive environment. It is our duty to keep it that way. Thank you for your time.

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

.

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

.

A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

.

24/08/20

© Copyright 2020

.

@taexxxiiaa​ @shookpreme​ @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @shimtatae @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @yes-another-wannabe-hipster-blog @deliciouslydisturbed365 @getmemyfries @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @angelswrld @expensive-bangtan-girl @icyi-sky @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @monixreal @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams @camilaxpolanco @d-noona @haechanspudu @dawnispeace @vante-visuals @liquanzhe222 @bangtanloverrrrr  @bs14401 @seokjoontae  @comingjimin @jeonsshadow @honeyspillings @taeshotteok @embrace-themagic @wataemelonz @ftvante @kth-jae @sintatae @lunarnovaa @reputae @imajinative @haosmull8 @sssaltyasian @brilliantlybasicb @devilsadvocater @ladyartemesia @btsglitter @besosalvolar @jayparkjustchokeme @johnnyseotolemyheart @bubblegumyuss @octo-donut @ftvante @gia-the-mermaid @miss-peys @fantasticallyabnormal @purplestar00paintblotch @taetaeismybaebae @jooachu @bringitseijoh @bboyseventeenn @lpayne612 @misohime @petuliii @slutdropjin @kyelamarie​

[loveatfirstwriteblog]

A Complete Analysis of Harry Potter

Like a lot of kids, we probably grew up on Harry potter. We were obsessed and rightly so. The universe created in the world of Harry Potter was, and is, a hugely successful one because of the fact it gave kids a world where magic exists! It seemed to be a great world to live in and it made even better with the fact that it included elements of empowerment, Whether it be showing girls can be just as successful if not more in various pursuits(Hermione), or the fact that even if you have a history of bad events, you can have a good heart(Hagrid), Harry Potter teaches us a lot.

JKR has written a mind-blowing plot in a world of magic, wizards, witches, wands, potions, friendship, love. Our inner-five-year olds--and actually most of our young adult selves too--jumps around excitedly at the beautifully penned words that creates an exit out of this world and into one where magic does exist. 

As you get older, though, you begin to think of Harry Potter in a more critical fashion. The thought of “oh my god, it’s magic” no longer completely overrides my mind, but more of “but what are the laws regarding this? Can people just do this whenever they want? Are there no ethics?” 

No matter how much we’re going to expose the flaws and plot holes in HP now, we’ll always love the books--we grew up on them! But some things just niggle you as you get older, and that’s what we’re going to be focusing on in this post.

Something I adore about the HP books is that everyone, including the “good guys”, has flaws. Harry has a “save the world alone, do first, think later” complex, a driving force that makes him go save Sirius, Ron is very, very insecure to a point where he ditches Harry twice, probably when Harry needed him the most, Hermione is a judgemental, narrow-minded nag (her thoughts on Luna, divination, Trelawney, basically anything that doesn’t fit her black and white world), Molly Weasley is misogynistic and blatantly favourites her children—probably being one of the main factors behind Ron’s insecurities, Arthur is condescending towards Muggles and makes several comments you cringe at while reading the books as a young adult/adult, Sirius, Snape, and Lupin still haven’t let go of their childhood grudges and hatred, etc etc etc. 

These flaws are what make these characters so three-dimensional, so layered, so human. But the problem was, most of these flaws are never intentionally acknowledged. And honestly, that could have been such a good character arc, because the main characters are mostly students. No student is the same through their teenage years—they change, they evolve, they get over their flaws, they try to better themselves. I would have loved to see Ron becoming his own person, Hermione opening her mind up a little, etc. 

Neville is not one of my favourites, but I love his growth and development, from someone who was scared of his potions professor to a man who faced down Lord Voldemort. Ginny Weasley could have had character development, from the trauma she went through in second year, but that was never written in.  She went through this terrifying ordeal when she was only twelve years old, and jump to a year or two later and she’s absolutely fine, with no transition from her trauma whatsoever.

Some of JKR’s characters are brilliantly written and fleshed out, but some of her others lack the structure and complexity that usually comes with being vital to the plot—Ginny Weasley for one. Her internalised misogyny also plays a huge part in the way her female characters are written. We see this again in the case of how she wrote the character of Ginny. 

Ginny Weasley is not a favourite of ours (if you don’t know that by now). She feels a lot like a convenient male daydream—when she waits for Harry to notice her by dating other guys, gets annoyed by Hermione “not knowing quidditch”, etc etc—and fits the “not like other girls” archetype too much, almost like she was made for it (hint hint). She’s portrayed to be strong-willed, spunky, and independent, and I love the idea, but I really don’t see it. To me, she’s a very shallow character, the least fleshed out one. 

Just like James Potter wasn’t necessarily redeemed just because JKR said he was, and Ginny isn’t interesting just because JKR writes that she is. 

Hermione also fits the archetype, but she’s JKR’s self-insert, so we really can’t say much about that. 

To make things worse, Ginny and Hermione are pitted against each other in a very subtle way. Ginny is the sporty, pretty, flirty girl who’s never single from book 4. Hermione is the not-conventionally-attractive, nerdy girl who’s had a few dates here and there but never a relationship. They’re very different characters (the only thing they have in common is the archetype) but they’re against each other in the defence of Harry. 

Another place where JKR’s misogyny shows up is the way other girls are written. Lavender Brown is shown as vapid and immature, just because she likes clothes and boys and didn’t know how to handle her first relationship. Cho Chang is perceived as shallow because she’s emotional. Pansy Parkinson is seen to be throwing herself at Draco Malfoy. The Weasleys hated Fleur because she was beautiful and sexy and French, and that was ever really resolved in the end (Molly accepted her, but we never got Ginny’s and Hermione’s opinions again). You see where we’re getting at? The typical “girly girls” are portrayed as insipid, shallow, emotional, and boring, while girls like Hermione and Ginny are seen to be fun and multilayered. 

The problems with Harry Potter don’t just stop with non-fleshed out characters. There are plot devices that go unacknowledged, issues like blood purity—which is the basis of Voldemort’s tyranny—are never really resolved, huge Chekhov’s guns that aren’t fired. 

A common misconception, which if cleared up could probably expose a load of problems in wizarding society by itself, is that the wizarding world is racist. It’s not racist. Muggles and Muggleborns are not a different race, they’re a different class, at least according to pureblood wizards. Mudblood is a classist insult (a direct reference to nobility blueblood and aristocracy).

Another factor that wasn’t talked about but made the HP world so complex and realistic is the inherent classism in every single pureblooded wizard, including the Weasleys.

 The “Light” wizards all operate on the notion “at least I don’t kill or torture Muggles”. The Weasleys refuse to talk about Molly’s squib cousin who’s an accountant, the Longbottoms were so desperate for Neville to not be a squib they nearly killed him trying to force magic out of him, Ron makes fun of Filch for being a squib, thinks house-elves are beneath him, and confounds his driving instructor in his mid-thirties, the ministry workers kept obliviating that muggle at the quidditch World Cup, etc. 

This could have been a metaphor for how small prejudices and microaggressions (kind of the wizarding equivalent of white privilege) enable discrimination and murder, if JKR had actually acknowledged it. 

The parallel to Nazi Germany is very twisted and definitely shouldn’t be taken too far, but the Nazi ideology grew on the basis of everyday antisemitism, “that’s not that bad” little things. Voldemort’s circle and army grew because the wizard superiority complex festered and blew up in some people, egged on by a deeply classist society. 

Ultimately, Harry Potter has very, very shoddy worldbuilding, the kind of worldbuilding that’s obsessed with answering the “what” of the wizarding world, rather than the “how” or the “why”, which is strange, considering that fantasy or dystopian-era novels’ driving plots and conflicts are usually answering the questions the worldbuilding raises--The Hunger Games and The Shadowhunter Chronicles are two of the best examples of brilliantly written YA fantasy and dystopian novels. 

In HP, however, the main plot just avoids the questions the worldbuilding brings up like the bubonic plague. 

Voldemort’s agenda is built on prejudice towards Muggles and Muggleborns, but the plot just validates the negative perception of them—at the end of the day, being a wizard is what’s special. The Statute of Secrecy is the foundation of the main concept—blood supremacists believe wizards shouldn’t be hidden away—but only vague, barely-there answers are given to why it exists (a Chekhov’s gun that was never fired). 

There are love potions that function like date rape drugs (even Harry was given one by a girl who wanted him to ask her out), potions that force people to tell the truth, potions that literally let you disguise yourself as another person, but the ethics are never talked about, and the laws are so lax that three twelve-year-olds broke them and were never caught. 

But at the same time, the worldbuilding is so authentic, because it transforms the wizarding world into straight-up fridge horror. The everyday horrors are just accepted and rolled with. A corrupt government, constant obliviation of Muggles, slavery that isn’t even talked about. These things aren’t obvious to us as readers, or to the wizards as characters, because they match up to the real world, which is filled with things that are horrifying if you dig deeper. The multiple, normalised forms of abuse, police brutality, the violence in prisons that nothing is done about, the glaringly obvious cultural problems we have with consent, etc. 

The abusive authoritative figures in HP, like Rufus Scrimgeour, Cornelius Fudge, Dumbledore, Umbridge, etc, are so authentic because real-life politicians and people in high places of power behave that way, and their abuse is excused. 

The wizarding world is just like the real world. Corrupt, prejudiced, messed up, but if you’re privileged, or at least have certain privileges, you’re probably not going to notice. The ultimate problem is that the plot doesn’t acknowledge a lot of fridge horror things are messed up either, which is why it miserably fails.