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#but believe it or not some of us like to be made to feel special sometimes
littlexdeaths · 2 days
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scotty doesn’t know - e.m.
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eddie munson x fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: no use of y/n, cheating, protected piv sex, light degradation kink, spanking, phone sex kinda?, shitty boyfriend behavior, mentions of alcohol/partying, some angst, all characters are 18+!
series masterlist
based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra
a/n: i’ve worked so hard to spruce up this series and i’m so excited to be reposting it for you all. be on the lookout for the next two parts. this fic is my actual baby, and it means so much to me. i hope you all enjoy xx.
word count: 4.3k
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It had started out as mostly a joke, a proposition that he never imagined you’d actually take him up on.
You always thought Eddie Munson, the town ‘freak’ was incredibly attractive, not that you’d ever voice that opinion to anyone. Mostly due to the fact that you had a boyfriend, who in the eyes of everyone in Hawkins— was the definition of perfect.
Scott McGuire was a great boyfriend… on the surface.
He was a star basketball player, friends with the most popular people in school. His family was loaded, despite being from a small town like Hawkins. He drove a Mercedes, and made you feel so special. When he had asked you out halfway through your junior year, you were over the moon.
And in the beginning of your relationship, you were beyond smitten with him. But after a year of dating him, you’d come to realize he was nothing you had wanted.
Scott was arrogant, vain and downright cruel. His biggest flaw being that he took absolute pleasure in causing pain to others. The main target of his rage was Eddie and his band of ‘freaks’. His best friend Jason was right by his side, constantly tormenting the group. But always Eddie more so than anyone else. You never enjoyed it, always finding a way to escape the moment an insult (or a punch) was thrown his way.
Despite all of this, you felt pressured to stay with him.
Your parents absolutely adored him and so did your friends. Most of which were the girlfriends of his friends. Your lives had become so interwoven you felt trapped. So to appease everyone else in your life, you continued the relationship. Even though you knew you didn’t love him.
In your eyes he was, all around, the worst boyfriend you could have landed… especially when it came to sex.
Scott was terrible in bed.
He only wanted you on his terms, only caring about his wants and needs. And in the year you’d been with him, he’d never made you come. Not once. At first you thought something was wrong with you, that you were broken.
But the more you talked with your friends on the cheer squad, the quicker you began to realize it was a Scott problem. Not a you problem. So you started faking it, your little act becoming so good that you even deluded yourself into believing it sometimes.
But that was how you got yourself into this predicament in the first place.
You were at a party at Chrissy’s, a celebration for the basketball team making it to the state championship. Initially you wanted to stay home, as parties were never something you enjoyed. But you knew how bad it would look if you didn’t show. So you went, swallowing your pride with a fake smile plastered across your face.
You let yourself fall into the role of the proud, doting girlfriend. You knew how to play it well, as it was second nature to you at this point.
At some point during the night Scott had pulled you into a random bedroom, with the promises of rocking your world. Those promises fell short, as they always did. Scott had you propped up on the unmade bed, gripping your hips as he pounded sloppily into you. The fake moans that left your lips somehow had convinced you both that you were enjoying yourself.
That is until the door swung open and a semi-tipsy Eddie Munson stumbled upon the scene. He was originally looking for the bathroom, much to the embarrassment of you both. You couldn’t hide the shame that flitted across your features, or stop your moans from faltering slightly.
Scott miraculously didn’t notice the intrusion as he continued to thrust into you, your fake moans continuing to fill the small bedroom. Your eyes were locked with Eddie’s as he stood frozen in the doorway. The two of you just stared at each other for a few moments, before he snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and quickly left the room.
You figured nothing would come from it, except for a new found embarrassment every time you saw him in class. But what you didn’t expect was for him to seek you out in study hall that following Monday.
You were in the library, searching for a new book to read when he cornered you. His curls were wild, that faded Hellfire shirt hugged his broad shoulders nicely. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as you tried not to stare. But those brown eyes seemed to look right through you.
“You know, I’ve seen better acting in pornos.” He spoke softly, as not to embarrass either of you.
Or to alert Ms. Hall, the school librarian.
She was such a hard ass, especially when it came to talking in the library. You had hoped that maybe Eddie would’ve been too drunk to remember what happened at the party. Or both of you would ignore the situation.
But that clearly wasn’t the case. You can feel the embarrassment coursing through you as you actively avoided his curious gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Munson,” you sneer before turning on your heel, grabbing a random book off the shelf in the process.
You clutch the paperback closer to your chest as you quickly try to escape the conversation.
He doesn’t let you get very far though, trailing behind you before taking a seat next to you at one of the study tables.
“I mean it must be frustrating, faking it all the time,” he continues nonchalantly, resting a ringed hand next to yours on the table.
His fingertips drum against the faux wood, as you struggle to think of a reply. But your continued silence and flustered appearance spoke volumes as you began to fiddle with the frayed hem of your dress.
Eddie leans in closer, letting his breath fan across your face. The smell of his spicy cologne and a hint of smoke engulfs your senses, making your head spin.
He hums softly, keeping his voice low, “Just doesn’t seem fair. Any decent guy would make sure you were being treated well.”
You could feel his body heat due to the close proximity, biting your lip as you stopped yourself from leaning against him.
“He does treat me well,” you whisper back, glancing down at the book as you begin flipping through the pages.
Eddie scoffs at the notion as his hand reaches out to close the cover again. His fingertips brush against yours in the process, the small touch sending tingles down your spine.
The male glances around the mostly empty library before he leans in closer. His lips nearly graze the shell of your ear as you hold your breath in anticipation. Eddie chuckles deeply, enjoying just how flustered he’s made you.
“Well, if you want to know what it’s like to be properly taken care of…” he trails off, as you let out a shaky breath. “You know where to find me, sweetheart.”
The promise behind his words instantly makes your thighs clench together. Watching in stunned silence as he quickly gets up and strolls out of the library.
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Those words sat with you for days, taunting you.
Finding yourself utterly frustrated, in more ways than one. You just couldn’t shake how badly you wanted to take him up on that offer. Morally, you knew it was wrong— you had a boyfriend.
But there was something that felt so right about it.
Despite your initial reservations, you very quickly found yourself in the back of Eddie’s van. Your legs were flung over his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his curls as his tongue had you seeing stars. It became blatantly obvious from your first time together that there was no way this could be a one time thing.
So you compromised, agreeing to meet up once a week. But only on Sundays, when you could give Scott the excuse of going to church with your parents. Ironically your family was not the church going type, but your boyfriend never questioned it.
However the longer you snuck around with Eddie, the more insatiable you became. Until it was almost a daily occurrence that you were under him, begging him to show you everything you were missing out on. It had surprised the both of you, but Eddie was more than happy to oblige.
But the constant sneaking around meant you couldn’t exclusively fuck in the back of his van anymore. Causing the both of you to become more creative in the process.
More than once you’d pull him under the bleachers in the gym once basketball practice ended. His ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you dropped to your knees. Or he’d bend you over the table in the drama room after a Hellfire campaign, dice and crushed cans of Mountain Dew falling off the table with each thrust of his hips.
But it still wasn’t enough, which led you to take more drastic measures.
You were on all fours, fingers clutching your floral bed sheets as Eddie pounded into you from behind.
Your parents were gone for the weekend to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Which left you with the house all to yourself, something that didn’t happen often. So this was an opportunity you didn’t want to pass up. Dialing his number before you even got out of bed that morning.
Regardless of his not so stellar reputation, it didn’t seem to sway a lot of women in Hawkins. And despite what Scott might have told you, Eddie has had plenty of sexual partners before. As many jumped at the chance to see if the rumors about the local freak were true. Which only seemed to fuel more rumors about the metalhead.
But out of everyone he had ever slept with— you were by far the neediest of them all.
Eddie couldn’t deny that he loved it. Knowing he was the only one who could turn you into a crying, blubbering mess. Not even seemingly perfect Scotty McGuire could make you feel this way. He would pay to see the look on his face if he could see just how wrecked you were.
Tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as you begged the town freak to fuck you harder.
“Look at you, such a needy little slut,” he chuckles, condensation lacing his tone. “Couldn’t even wait a whole day for my cock, huh?”
Eddie was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever had, and he certainly knew how to use it. His cock reached places inside you that you didn’t know existed until now. So it was no surprise that you didn’t want to wait another day to see him again.
But deep down you knew that wasn’t the only reason you had called him over. However, you weren’t entirely ready to have that conversation with yourself yet.
“I… shit,” you mewl, finding yourself at a loss for words as he increased his pace.
Pathetic whines spill past your lips with each thrust of his hips, your walls gripping him tightly. Pleasure coursed through you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. A mixture of your arousal and his spit was smeared across your thighs. A reminder of where he’d been slotted between them earlier.
“Aww, come on, sweetheart,” he teases, nipping at your ear as he slows to a more gradual pace. “Be a good girl and tell me who’s making you feel so good.”
The orgasm that had been building in your abdomen suddenly fizzles out as he stills his hips at your deepest point. You nearly cry out in defeat as he lands a harsh slap on your ass.
You knew the rules by now, he needed to hear you.
“Y-You… fuck you are, Eddie.” He hummed in response, guiding your hips forward.
“That’a girl.”
The drag of his cock has you whining, the sound quickly being drowned out by the phone on your bedside table. You fully intended to ignore the shrill ringing as you began grinding your ass back against him. But he grips your hips to stop any further movement.
“Answer it.”
Your eyes widen as you glance over your shoulder at him, bewilderment crossing your features. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he lands another slap on your ass, “That wasn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.”
You quickly fumble for the phone, not wanting this to end so soon. You’d come to realize just how much Eddie enjoyed teasing you the more you slept together. But you’d had enough teasing for one day.
So you place the receiver against your ear, trying to calm your erratic breathing, “H-Hello?”
You mentally curse yourself for the way your voice shakes, feeling your stomach drop at the voice on the other end of the line.
“You alright, babe? You sound winded,” you can hear the slightest bit of suggestiveness in his tone, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
This was something you’d come to expect from Scott, the male always finding a way to bring sex into every conversation. Despite knowing he was actually spot on this time, only it wasn’t your fingers that were buried inside you.
But what you didn’t anticipate was for Eddie to start thrusting back into you at a leisurely pace. You bite down onto your lower lip for a moment before you laugh, the sound not at all genuine. But Scott couldn’t tell the difference, he never paid enough attention.
“I’m great, Scott.” Your breath hitches in your throat as Eddie’s lips graze over your shoulder, “J-Just in the middle of a… workout.”
You hear Eddie laugh softly behind you, the male on the other end blissfully unaware of the kind of workout you were currently engaged in. Despite your initial reservations about answering the phone, you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you. Almost wanting to be caught like this.
“You still swinging by the party tonight?” Scott asks, as you continue to pulse around Eddie’s thick shaft.
His thrusts deepen, slipping a hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive clit. Your thoughts are completely jumbled as you try to stay engaged with the conversation. But it’s proving to be difficult.
“P-Party?” You breathe out, gripping the receiver tighter in your palm.
You can hear your boyfriend’s annoyed sigh, knowing he was rolling his eyes as your own rolled into the back of your head. Eddie grunts softly in your other ear as he rams into your sweet spot. It took every bit of your remaining self restraint to not moan directly into the phone.
“It’s Tommy’s birthday. I told you about it last week,” he huffs, clearly no longer amused.
You vaguely recall the conversation, but lately you’d found yourself tuning him out more and more. Having much more important things to occupy your attention.
“Right! No, I remember now.” Your words come out whinier than you intended, but Scott doesn’t seem to notice.
You were getting close, and Eddie knew it too.
“So? Are you coming?”
Eddie stifles another laugh at the unintended joke.
He quickly wraps his ringed fingers around the base of your throat and lifts you, so your back is now flush against his sweaty chest. The new angle allows him to slip even deeper inside, causing a gasp to escape you. You quickly disguise it as a cough, before answering your boyfriend.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Listen, I-I gotta go. See you tonight.”
You hang up the phone before he even has a chance to respond. The loud moan that was trapped in your throat is finally set free, earning a groan from the male behind you.
Eddie’s disheveled curls began tickling your face as he leaned toward your ear again, “Bet he didn’t suspect a damn thing, huh?”
You can hear the smugness in his tone, whimpering as he puts more pressure on your clit.
“Cause he can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he, sweetheart?” You frantically nod your head before letting it fall back onto his shoulder.
You know you can’t hold out for much longer, and judging by the way his cock twitches inside you— Eddie won’t either.
His lips attach themselves to the curve of your neck, sucking harshly as you tremble in his arms.
“Ed… f-fuck I’m gonna—” you are unable to finish your thought as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you.
He nearly growls as you cry out his name again and again, the sound being his undoing. He spills into the condom with a grunt of your name, his chest heaving as he buries himself at your deepest point. The sounds of his erratic breathing mixes with yours, filling the now quiet space of your bedroom. Feeling utterly weak in the best way possible.
And if his arms weren’t securely wrapped around your waist, you would’ve collapsed face first into the mattress.
You stay entangled like that for a few moments while you both come down from your highs. Enjoying the way his lips press against the curve of your shoulder.
Eddie’s actions are gentle now, carefully guiding your hips up to slip out of you. He coaxes you to lay on your back, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you gazed up at him. As amazing as the sex was, what came after was just as enjoyable.
Emotionally, your boyfriend was always unavailable.
Especially after a round in the sheets, he was particularly cold. In the year you’d been together Scott had never once held you or comforted you. It always left you with an overwhelming sense of shame— of feeling used.
So naturally you had expected the same kind of treatment from Eddie, as you had never experienced aftercare before. After that first time together you had begun to put your clothes back on, attempting to leave right away.
But he stopped you with a soft, “Don’t go.”
It didn’t take much convincing as you laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He kept you tucked in his embrace for hours, fingertips dancing along your hip. From that moment on it was the same treatment. His affection only increased the more you fooled around.
Your eyes follow him as he rises from the bed to toss the condom in your trash bin. Giving Eddie the opportunity to finally take a look around your room.
You suddenly felt nervous as he made his way over to your record collection, flicking through the vinyls with the utmost care. While your popularity status had recently changed due to dating Scott, you always felt out of place amongst them. You could never be your full authentic self, in fear of rejection from your peers.
Eddie seemed to find a record that he liked, sliding it out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable. It is quiet for a moment, the crackle of the record is almost comforting. Soon the beginning notes of the Labyrinth soundtrack fill that silence. You instantly feel shy, not expecting him to choose that album in particular.
Your boyfriend had teased you relentlessly for your love of David Bowie, always complaining about how weird he was. It made you feel ashamed to talk about any of your interests, most of which you’d hidden away in fear of being mocked.
But with that small act Eddie had proved, once again, that he was superior to Scott in every way imaginable.
He begins to hum along to the opening track, grabbing his boxers from the pile of your discarded clothes on the floor. Sliding the checkered material back over his legs, the fabric hanging low on his hips. You bite your lip as your eyes drift over his pale skin, zeroing in on the patch of hair that descended into his waistband.
“Keep giving me those eyes and we’re gonna have a problem, princess.” He teases, his smirk widening as he catches you ogling him.
You feel your body flush as he shoots you a playful wink before slipping into your adjoined bathroom. You hear the tap turn on, the rush of water mingling with the sultry baritone of Bowie’s vocals. You allow your body to relax against the mattress, a sense of calm washing over you.
Eddie wasn’t gone for long, emerging from the bathroom with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. He sets the glass on your nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. The male carefully parts your legs, pressing a kiss to your knee as he cleans up the mess of salvia and slick that has dried onto your thighs.
You let your eyes linger on his face, watching him in complete admiration. His cheeks are tinged pink, no doubt from the weight of your gaze. He’s also not used to being regarded with such gentleness.
Eddie sheepishly avoids your eyes as he stands, tossing the used cloth into your hamper. You scoot into a sitting position to take a few sips of water from the glass. Blatantly checking him out as he bends over to grab another piece of clothing from your carpeted floor.
“Arms up,” he instructs, allowing him to pull your oversized shirt over your head.
He quickly joins you again, causing a small giggle to escape you as he squeezes himself onto your twin sized mattress. The male grins, allowing you to drape your body over his. You tangle your limbs together, instinctively resting your head on his chest.
Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the steady beat of his heart in your ear. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head.
In moments like this, it was easy for you to pretend that Eddie Munson was all yours.
There were no worries about being caught, or what anyone in this god forsaken town had to say about it. But the more time you spent with him, the more you began to realize that you wanted him all to yourself.
You knew it was incredibly selfish, he didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret side piece. So you kept these newly emerging feelings to yourself.
“You feeling okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t too rough or anything, was I?”
Eddie’s tone was vastly different from how he’d spoken to you earlier, and yet it only made your adoration for him grow. Knowing he truly cared about your feelings, it wasn’t just a courtesy.
His hand gently caresses your sore ass, his fingertips continuing to ghost over the curve of your spine. The tenderness of his actions made you shiver as you nuzzled your face back into his chest.
“It was perfect.” You hum, voice echoing your contentment, “You were perfect.”
Gentle, rough or anything in between— you’d be grateful as long as it was with him.
You were sure he could feel the warmth that had begun to seep into your cheeks at your admission. Reaching out his hand to delicately grasp your chin, tilting your head up to meet his curious gaze.
But it wasn’t just curiosity that shone through his eyes.
There was something else. Something deeper simmering beneath the surface of his irises.
This was uncharted territory for you, as no one, not even your boyfriend had regarded you in such a way before. But that single look alone made your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs.
You both begin to lean in without realizing, lips brushing together as you cradle his jaw. This was something completely new for both of you. While you’d kissed plenty of times, it never happened after the sex ended.
This was quickly becoming a dangerous game, one neither of you had any intention of losing.
And as hard as you tried to avoid your feelings, you knew you were starting to fall for him. Which was the most dangerous game of them all.
Your lips continued to move against each other for what felt like forever, only breaking apart to catch your breath every so often. Kissing Eddie was just as addicting as every other part of him, and you never wanted it to end.
So you stayed like that for hours, stealing kisses in between gentle words. He told you about his home life with Wayne, how he’d listened and memorized every single chord of Master of Puppets until he got it right. Little things that made you understand exactly who Eddie Munson really was.
But time seemed to pass by in an instant, the evening sky bathing the walls of your room in a golden hue. A signal that it was time for him to leave.
You felt a tug on your heartstrings as you watched him slide open your bedroom window, desperately wishing the circumstances were different.
“Wait!” you call as he was already halfway through the window, flashing you a grin as you bounded over to him.
You press a searing kiss to his mouth as he cups your cheek, neither of you quite willing to be the first to pull away.
“I gotta go,” he tries to mask the disappointment in his tone, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping out of your window completely.
You watch as the male clumsily jumps down from the second story, his wallet chain jingling upon impact. Eddie takes a moment to steady himself before he turns back to glance up at you. Giving you a little bow before he’s off, cutting through your neighbors yard to get back to his van.
You can hear the blaring guitar of Quiet Riot as he starts up the engine, the rumble echoing in your ears as he takes off down the empty street.
Taking a little piece of your heart with him.
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tagging some peeps who seemed interested 💕
@xxbimbobunnyxx @vamp-bunny @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lokis-army-77
and a special shoutout to my bby @undead-supernova for always being my lil cheerleader ily 🫶🏻
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Moltendreams - Ink Sans Alias: Fable Pronouns: he/him Personality: Upbeat and Absent Minded Ink seems perpetually Cheerful, Optimistic and full of energy. Frivolous and playful. He may came across as Tone Deaf or inappropriate, seeming unaware of sensitive subjects. However Ink is rarely, if ever intentionally mean or callous. Notes:
Fable carries a notebook he uses to record things he doesn't want to forget. His memory issues aren't as severe as Ink's, but he is still prone to forgetting things easily, specially: names to faces and important dates.
Fable loves watercolor.
His eyelights change shape and color to anything! (stars, exclamation points, swirls, etc.)
He also loves Fashion and even designs his own outfits.
He knows how to sew and stitch and usually has a comment on the tip of his tongue about your fashion choices.
Broomie is hollow inside and filled with diluted paint. Can be any color but usually the paint is associated with a positive emotion. - More info Under cut! -
The Doodleshere: In Moltendreams, Fable must travel to AUs directly to collect paint from them. In this multiverse, the Doodlesphere is scribbled on top of Fable's original AU, and rests in a sort of OUT OF BOUNDS space between AUs. Through the Doodlesphere, Fable can access every AU he has discovered so far. The Doodlesphere is an endlessly expanding liminal space; a series of interconnected empty indoor spaces, shops, malls, palaces, endless variants of regions of the underground, each reflecting an AU, through a door in each room. Despite how confusing the layout of Doodlesphere may seem to the outsider, Fable instinctively knows where everything is. Nothing is ever lost in the Doodleshere.
About: Fable acts as a Muse for Creation, he does not create AUs by himself but rather, assists in the creation by attempting to cox a Spirit of Creation (in-universe term and stand-in for the creator of a particular AU) into taking action. Most Spirits of Creation will create AUs on their own, but many will hesitate, abandoned their world before it's finished, or simply sit still while a world remains incomplete, seemingly waiting for some unknown que. While the Spirits can be influenced and encouraged, ultimately, they cannot be controlled, even by Fable. Fable has a similar history as Canonical Ink. He originated in a discarded AU, soulless but willed to life by a Spirit of Creation before it departed. Fueled by the desire to never experience the empty monotony of an unfinished AU again, Fable travels the multiverse to encourage Spirits of Creation to finish their work. Though the consequences of his actions were unintentional, Fable initially favored Positive AUs and could be said to be partially responsible for the state of the Multiverse as it is today. Happiness feels good. Joy feels good. Fable wants to feel good. He wants others to feel good too. Outcode Politics: Fable places equal value on all creation, and for that reason, he is forced into a position where he feels obligated to respect all "characters" he comes across, even "characters" like Error. Can art destroy itself? Should art destroy itself, if that is the intention of the creator? What do you do when one Artist's art can only be appreciated through the destruction of another Artist's work? Ink doesn't think of it in exactly those terms, but that is the gist of his internal conflict. Passive interference in any given AU is a problem for Fable. He believes the "narrative" should be left to play out organically without outside interference. To interfere could jeopardize the AU's stability. Or worse, antagonize the Creation Spirit that made it. Which can be dangerous for the inhabitants. But for the average encounter, Fable is a wild card. He follows no strict rules, and is just as likely to chase other outcodes off as he is to befriend them and attempt to guild them. Paint and Vials:
Specific AUs give Ink specific paint colors tied to certain emotions. Underfell will give Ink shades of red/anger/righteousness for example but won’t give him yellow/euphoria. Horrortale will give him deep blue/loneliness/grief and shades of purple/fear but won’t give him green/envy etc.
the more common the au is, the more of a specific color Ink will be able to collect from it.
this means that if a certain AU is rare he will use up the color associated with it more quickly. He will try to avoid situations that drain that specific color because it will be harder to refill it later.
Ink drinks a little bit of every color at the same time, daily. Rather than one at a time as it applies to a specific situation
it’s easier for Ink to collect paint from AUs in the “WIP” phase because the paint hasn’t dried yet AFCRUFTAFH
He can gather paint from a “finished” world but he won’t get as much.
Like Canonical Ink, when Fable is drained of paint he will become doll-like, an empty unresponsive husk. with a couple caveats. 1. Fable is aware of things that happen during this period. he just can’t react to them.
2. if what’s left of his magic feels threatened, (the minimal stuff that is keeping his body together) he will react to defend himself. it’s more reflex/instinctive than thought out, however.
3. if Fable had been focusing on a task, goal, or thought prior to going dry, he will react to external things related to that specific task/goal/thought.
Fable doesn’t immediately bounce back after getting his vials refilled. He’s sluggish, and there’s a noticeable buffer period between when something happens and when he reacts to it. He remembers what happened and what was said to him. This is the second most vulnerable period for him. if someone wanted to manipulate or influence him that would be the time to do it. OG Ink Sans/Inktale @.comyet Moltendreams @ me
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haliteatiger · 12 hours
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Happy Werewolf Wednesday, ya'll! We're serving up a big pot of tea tonight so get those cups ready!
Special thanks to Blackbackedjackal and King for their help in putting this together, editing, and especially to Jackal for being so supportive and encouraging. I'm very much not normally the type to do call-out posts, but people need to be aware of Dogblud, as she has hurt, not only myself, but quite a few others as well, and seems to have somehow gotten away with behaving like this for 20-odd years. I'm of the mind she shouldn't be allowed to do so any more, hence this post.
TL;DR - Beware of Dogblud, aka Ashryn, aka DogofBlud, aka ThatDogMagic. Very, very long post under the cut.
With everything happening with DogBlud and Blackbackedjackal's studio, I felt emboldened to come forward with my own experiences with her. This is something I've been carrying around since it happened roughly 2 years ago. It was one of the main reasons that put me off drawing werewolves, my own characters, or engaging any more in the fandom. I've hinted at it a few times but I've never had the energy to come forward and deal with the fall out. I wanted to move on with the rest of my life because IRL was more important than online drama. And I knew her behavior would come back to bite her sooner or later, regardless of what I did. 
It's been very validating to see that I was right.
It was around the time that Blud and I became friends that I was feeling a bit burnt out on werewolves. I'd been trying to pull together my own werewolf-related project for something close to 12 years. The past 4 years had also been pretty draining on me creatively and socially, as it had for a lot of artists with regards to the pandemic. I also had some IRL things I was dealing with: mainly with my marriage and transitioning between medications to manage my anxiety + bipolar.
Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to screenshot everything at the time. I do have logs from back when we roleplayed together. There are several conversations in them but because they were saved as text documents, they're pretty dubious in terms of solid evidence. 
It would have been better if I had taken screenshots as it was happening, rather than just saving the logs. With what I *do* have, however, I feel as though it may be enough to make the point that I'm trying to make, and to exhibit how horrible things got.
I'll provide some context.
I had talked with Blud on and off over the years, and we had always gotten along. We had a lot in common and after we had started talking more, our friendship eventually grew into a collaborative project. We were going to combine our stories and write a comic based on it. We had a lot of discussions on how Blud was reticent to do this in the beginning and how she wanted a contract to be made up so that in the event that something *did* happen, we could both walk away feeling like it was handled fairly.
Honestly, I should have listened to the first alarm that went off in my brain, when, in an act of ominous foreboding she said something along the lines of don't be so sure, it could happen. It was in response to me being like "we're getting along so well and share so much of a bond right now. I can't fathom that being a problem!" 
The contract never materialized. It was something we had decided to do *after* we had put together something of a prototype project to see how well we worked together. It made complete sense to me at the time as we were both eager to focus on the fun parts of writing and drawing together.
It was decided that I would be the lead artist (doing coloring and final lines) while Blud would do everything else (which was inking, layouts, and the majority of the writing). The both of us felt that she had more experience in those areas. I also believed that she had a better knack for it as well. I had felt that she had a better understanding of story structure than myself. And I thought that Blud had felt the same way about my art. That I had the experience to take point on that. 
Since I had collaborated with other artists and writers before, I attempted to approach the project with the same sort of professionalism I always do. Especially the projects that I genuinely thought stood a chance of being published in the future. We had started out trying to get a feel for each other's flows and rhythms. I had expected Blud to try and meet me in the middle of where our processes would potentially differ from one another, so that we could develop a fairly smooth workflow.
I had also expected, according to our discussions on the matter, that we would value each other's opinions on things and take them into consideration. We had such good synchronicity already.
In the beginning, there wasn't any unusual behavior that caught my attention. Blud was a bit uncomfortable with trying out new things but I did my best to accommodate her so that our project could move forward without too much turbulence. She had also mentioned to me before that she was autistic, and since my husband is also autistic, I knew how difficult it could be when it came to adapting to new routines. But when it was time for her to deliver the first set of layouts, it wasn't at all what I expected.
What I had expected was something with margins, clearly marked boxes, and figures that I could do rough lines over. I also expected notes that confirmed what we had discussed earlier about the project; that way I knew what she wanted or if there would be any changes. She took offense to this, feeling like I was violating our agreement. Though Blud did try to give me space with regards to the actual art, and while she would offer criticisms here and there, I trusted her opinion as an artist and as a friend. But apparently that didn't go both ways. In fact, Blud seemed to be offended that I expected more from her.
Blud agreed to concede. She suddenly seemed fine with the changes that I had asked for after seeing the layouts. I guess she was feeling overstimulated by the change and I might have been applying too much of a critical tone to her responses to begin with. I have had to deal with rejection sensitivity throughout my life and it's certainly prompted me to approach what people say to me online with a bit of scrutiny (sometimes too much).
And while I was mildly annoyed, although admittedly I was more concerned with Blud's overall reaction to my asking for clarification about several things in the layouts, I let it go. But it seemed like there was a problem. The majority of my ideas were either rejected or outright overridden with Blud convincing me that my faulty memory had made me unable to remember what we had agreed upon. Or that I might have been misremembering in my own favor.
There was one time where we were discussing a monster's design. Blud had already decided to settle on one design that she had come up with, even as I continued to offer other suggestions. The story was to take place in my setting, so I was under the impression that I got to decide what kind of creatures should populate it. The conversation ended somewhat ambiguously. I had assumed that we'd come to a solid conclusion later. 
I came back the next day and it turned out that we were using her design because that was what we had decided on. "Don't you remember? You really need to do something about that faulty memory of yours, Tek. I can't be doing this for you all the time."
At which point, Blud would go back and meticulously scour the conversation until she managed to find a set of lines that would make it seem as though I had 100% agreed. Even when I tried to explain that I had meant something else, she took it as an affront on her inability to understand nuances due to her autism.
I admit that my memory isn't that greatest at times, but I've never had anyone complain about it before. And none of my friends have ever minded providing reminders to me if I did misremember something incorrectly. We all forget stuff at times, right? It's *still* something that I'm self-conscious about because (like a lot of people with ADHD) my memory seems selective at times. This was, apparently, a problem that I needed to manage. 
And even as I'm remembering these incidents to the best of my ability, I've already spent so much time recounting all of this to friends. I feel confident in my recollection. There are some details that may overlap or become entwined with other things, but it all basically tells the same story. Especially in conjunction with what's been said by others. You're free to take it as hearsay since I do not have screenshots to back this up.
I will mention (since I've been told it's something that Blud has taken particular interest in) that at one point, I did have a crush on her. I was having some problems IRL, and it was nice to have someone whom I felt actually understood me. I also felt like I saw a lot of myself in her. I think that, at one point, I did describe her as the kind of "girlfriend" I would want. Blud seemed to indicate the feeling was mutual.
Between our collaborative partnership and all of the details we shared about our lives, it did feel like an intimate relationship at times. I had no intentions of pursuing it. We were not compatible in our romantic and sexual identities, and I had no intention of leaving my current partner for her.
I had begun to notice red flags, even if I wasn't ready to accept them yet.
I've had experience with abusive relationships in the past but they were in person, and not online. I knew what to look out for and yet I was being willfully ignorant about our friendship. I wanted to give Blud the benefit of the doubt. I wanted the project to work *so* badly that I was willing to work with her increasing demands as the months went by.
I had no idea that those demands would change into, quite literal, temper tantrums. It would then trigger my fawning response which was due to an abusive family situation that I had dealt with before I moved to Canada. The tactic was this: concede to someone until there was a time that they either understood reason or I had the chance to use it against them if necessary.
I started to take screenshots. I wish that I had taken a lot more of them so that everyone could get a better idea of what was happening. I did go back and manage to record the majority of the first outburst. It was the first inkling I had that Blud wasn't playing with a full deck of cards. I knew that that would be one of the first conversations that she would promptly delete. And consequently, I was right.
This assortment of screenshots will exhibit the first serious confrontation that Blud had with me. I am absolutely *not* proud of how I handled this. I was literally panicking at the time and doing whatever I could to get her to calm down. Because I have a temper that can look similar to this in person, I knew that I had to wait until the post-tantrum clarity would hit Blud. I tried my best to not lose my own temper in turn but looking back, I feel that I came off as sounding too timid.
I didn't want to ruin this project.
I wanted to make a comic with an individual that I admired and respected as a fellow artist. And, with me not knowing how to respond, my main priority was to not make things any worse than they already were.
Below is the conversation in its entirety:
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I had taken this screenshot on my phone after I had stepped away to compose myself. Blud had handled the confrontation and criticism with a reasonable amount of apprehension. But what had not occurred to me was that I could have said something that would remind her of past experiences with a roleplaying group.
It was something that had evidently scarred Blud for life.
I took away the wrong things from what she had told me, choosing to focus on the aspects of the "betrayal" that had appeared to bother her the most. And in hindsight, I did not see the correlation. I was genuinely apologetic that I had hurt her feelings.
But I *will* critique Blud for her poor handling of the situation. Whether or not I had hurt her feelings, no one is entitled to act like this or claim that this is what attempting to resolve a problem should look like.
I wasn't sure on how to initially respond to Blud. It had been ages since I'd had to deal with someone flying off the handle like that.
The following screenshots are where the conversation picked up, after she had already deleted the above message:
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We had weathered the "storm" and after Blud calmed down, she was ready to communicate. There was a part of me that was genuinely sincere when I apologized to her. I did mean it when I said that I had no intentions of hurting her and that I hadn't considered how my statement would sound to her.
I had hoped that this had been a stress response due to factors outside of our collaboration. And especially when I took into account how she had interacted with me in the past. I knew that Blud had a lot going on IRL, and that she had already put a considerable amount of energy into this project.
I had taken her meltdown more personally than she could perceive that I would, because this was something that was acceptable to her. She had a "condition" that would absolve her of these abhorrent meltdowns and I needed to get used to them if we were going to continue working on that project together.
I was shaking the entire time we were typing in the chat.
I was sincere in my responses. I really did want to work things out with Blud and give her the benefit of the doubt. I could have been taking the things that she said too personally or maybe I had been reading too much into the situation. Was there a chance that I could have been misreading her outburst? I tried my best to keep an open mind though I was still somewhat baffled by the fact that she would have meltdowns as often as she did.
I confided in my husband and some other friends about the situation. They were also bewildered by Blud's actions.
By this point, I was struggling with the reality that this collaboration was most likely *not* going to work out but I still wanted to try. I still cared about Blud. We would still hang out together and talk about things like music, our characters, or our stories.
While I did have the foresight to go back and screenshot this section, I wasn't fast enough to get screenshots of everything else that I will be going over. Blud *did* admit to going back and deleting certain exchanges due to a mixture of shame; not wanting to look at them when she would scroll through our conversations. 
In retrospect, it was very telling.
And even after that meltdown, I still enjoyed the friendship that I had with her. I kept my guard up but I was willing to make compromises on her behalf if it resulted in better communication between the two of us. Blud made me promise to immediately tell her if I had a problem with something. I also agreed to keep notes of our conversations.
It worked for the most part.
In the end though, it became apparent that Blud wasn't willing to do the same for me (even after we had an extended conversation about it). I then realized that I had been tasked with basically *managing* her autism for her. I was already busy with my supposedly "bad memory" at the time; and Blud was more than ready to scroll back up through our conversations to cherry-pick a line or two of text to remind me of what was said earlier.
Because, for her, circumstances couldn't ever change. If they did, it would mean that Blud had lost control of the situation and that she was in the wrong. She could *not* be in the wrong. 
And if she was in the wrong? It would take solid evidence, three witnesses, and a court of law to prove it.
She had two other major meltdowns after this. I managed to step away from communicating with her through one of them and I don't remember the other meltdown lasting very long. She immediately deleted the texts of both of those instances before I could take screenshots of them.
It seemed like I could do nothing right when it came to Blud, no matter the lengths I would go to accommodate her. I knew that it was a common tactic used by abusers. I finally accepted that our partnership wasn't going to work out and I began thinking about an exit strategy. The final straw was when she began to expect me to be at her beck and call.
I had promised that I would be there for her, within reason, and I was willing to offer reassurances whenever she would ask me for them. The promise had been made back when we had first started to talk to one another with more frequency, before Blud had shown me her true colors. I would end up completely underestimating just how badly she would need reassurance.
To be frank, I underestimated a lot about Blud in the beginning.
I would end up mentioning that I enjoyed my space in several different conversations with her. That there was a chance that I might be offline for several days so I could take care of things IRL and recharge my social batteries. I'm somewhat of a recluse. And an adult who enjoys things that aren't online.
She said that it was fine.
I became incredibly anxious when I would talk to Blud, especially after her somewhat abrupt change in personality.
I then attempted to put my foot down about boundaries and this is what she had to say:
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I decided to walk away for a bit and I came back after I had had some time to think things over. This wasn't healthy for either of us. I wrote a couple of sentences to say goodbye to Blud before I blocked her. I knew that my actions would probably infuriate her. She had told me in the past that she *hated* not being able to have the final word... which she was able to do through email:
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“And I'm not letting you pretend you have control over the situation, or the high ground. You distinctly have neither. But since you're determined to stick to your 'principles' on this, I've decided to make it easier for you.”
She thought that she was absolved of all sins just because I had said that I would stand by her at her worst. And at the time that I said that, I had no idea that her worst would be her trying everything possible to protect her boundaries while stomping all over mine. It didn't matter what she said or how often she would apologize when I would confront her. She kept doing it.
I admit that I wasn't perfect in this situation either.
There were times when I was condescending, critical, or downright mean when I talked to Blud because that was the way I had felt when she was talking to me. I soon realized that it didn't matter either way. I could have been using the friendliest tone imaginable and she still would have perceived it as either mocking or dismissive on my end. There were even a few times where I would preface my explanations with an advisory “please know that I am not attacking you and try to read this in an understanding tone,”etc. I would then post an explanation I had spent hours picking at to ensure that there was no way she could misinterpret the intent. Even so, she still read the majority of what I said as criticism and would take it to heart.
I never expected Blud to do something that made her uncomfortable; nor did I expect her to overextend herself when it came to our project. I would go out of my way to make sure everything was fine when we would talk about it. I only expected mutual respect in return.
When we would get into discussions (arguments), she would never attempt to understand my point of view or let me explain myself. It would have made it about me when it should have been about Blud and her needs. She sometimes would agree to come to a compromise about something, but only if I would admit that I was in the wrong.
I know that if Blud was to look at these screenshots, she'd be incredulous that I'm trying to distract from the horrible things that *I* did. And those horrible things that I did? I tried my best to work with her.
It wasn't just her poor teamwork that bothered me. It was her attitude and the lack of respect that she showed me. She would never ask me to clarify something that I said; always assuming that it was a criticism against her. I can only speculate that Blud did not want to hear about how any of this was her fault, like in the email she sent me.
I don't know if I was actually her friend at any point. Friends make efforts to understand one another. Ideally, they’d want their friendships to continue, and they would want everyone to be getting along and having fun. She seemed to actively defy that.
I would argue that things like this don't just happen in a vacuum. There's almost always a reason for such things, but it's honestly a mystery to me as to where this vitriol comes from. I don't know why Blud sees monsters in every word, especially if they come from a  "friend". 
I've seen her viscously mock herself during meltdowns; it seems like she hates herself and expects everyone else to hate her too. I think that she wants it to be the truth, so that it validates the feelings she has about herself. The behavior patterns that I'd been exposed to are consistent with the idea that Blud is seeking confirmation about the personal assumptions she has about herself. It's what makes her so volatile to those around her. Yet, she refuses to break the cycle.
I hope that she can make that choice in the future but at this point, I'm not holding my breath.
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Hey! I found a post of yours (specifically a phos analysis) from a looong while ago. Just curious to hear what your thoughts on the last chapters and the conclusion of the story are!
I recently finished the manga after putting it off for 4 years, and it was an incredible but such a bittersweet read. Maybe it's just me being a sucker for happy endings, but man, it really did not get happier </3
And you probably already know this, but did you know that Ichikawa released the last chapter the same day a comet flew by that looked exactly like the comet from the last chapter? Really cool stuff but I am emotionally destroyed haha
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I suppose it was the only kind of happy ending HnK could have, and I don't think I mind it as much as other things that have happened in the last few chapters. It reads more HnK than anything that has happened in the past 1-2 years of serialization.
I appreciate the bittersweet notes (always have) and Ichikawa's words that this is how she wanted the story to end, it doesn't happen to every mangaka. Also, the comet bit is such a nice touch.
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As for Phos (I suppose this is the post you meant?), I do believe that they got a happy ending.
If you think about it, instead of becoming a lunarian and being prayed away like the others, Phos' journey gave them the power and knowledge to rise above them. Thanks to their flaws (being brittle, having special inclusions, maybe being the most human of all the gems) they became human, the most flawed of creatures, and basically reverted to the purity of a child, a god, sin-less (even if this is a Buddhist story, so idk if I can actually speak of sin) and therefore free of everything that made humanity always dissatisfied, dangerous and unhappy. The others renounced existence, Phos found a way to reach paradise.
Humanity doesn't come out of this looking like a nice bunch of people to hang out with, and neither do the lunarians (gems included at this point). And yet, there's so much compassion in everything Phos does: a kind child, up until the very end.
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I always speculated (and was not alone in this) that Phos' job would become to pray the lunarians/everyone away, find Cinnabar the job to kill them, become a Bodhisattva... in this, I believe, the story remained true to itself. What I believe no one saw coming was how shallow(?) it all seemed in the end.
Everyone came back, making Phos' sacrifices and suffering basically meaningless, everyone started getting along and solving centuries-old problems in seconds. Then, Ichikawa introduced so many new changes abruptly... It felt rushed, lazy and overly simple, when most of us loved HnK for its complexity and depth.
Maybe it was because Ichikawa wanted (or needed to) end the series with ch 108. Usually, when mangaka put a limit to the chapters they want to write, it really damages the story and I wasn't a fan of this even in this situation.
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Aside from these issues, I appreciate how Ichikawa seemed to care about the character of Phos.
Maybe this all happened so that Phos could be happy, maybe this was the only possible way for Phos to be happy? It would be a little bit like in Devilman, where the world basically ends only so that Satan can understand love. Idk, little old Phos didn't seem that desperate a case, they just wanted truth, yes, this did cause some... issues, but other than that they're a sweetheart.
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This is the leitmotif of the series, after all: Phos is a kind, selfless gem who cultivates a deep sense of self-hatred.
They internalize a pressure and a need to feel useful (coming from gem society) and turn them into a necessity for change (unlike in gem society). Initially, they want to find a job. Then, they want to help Cinnabar find a job, then they want to help Ventricosus, then then want to become a fighter, then they want to help sensei, then the gems, then the lunarians...
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Contrary to most of the other gems, Phos loves and loves openly and unconditionally. They start off as a self-less creature who believes that their life isn't worth anything. Therefore, they put it on the line time and time again and, eventually, lose it time and time again as they change form.
It's their journey towards truth and happiness: they change and lose pieces of themselves, forget things, renounce gem-ness in favor of humanity and then humanity for god-hood.
Phos changes until they find the form that makes them happy. Their purest, happiest form. They change so much that they come back to square one almost: they become pure Phosphophyllite, with no inclusions at all. Still fragile, still small, but selfless and cheerful. Carefree.
In a sense, HnK ends with Phos becoming Phos.
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ddoxhan · 3 days
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stay by my side
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if there is no one next to you I’ll just be behind you, just stay by my side
word count : 0.9k words
genre : classic angst; giselle x gn! reader; days were never the same anymore but your feelings for aeri will always be unchanging for as long time exists
t/w : nothing :) this is just some good ol' angst
a/n : not much plot to it but ! it's the feels of not being able to forget someone and maybe, you're better off longing for them than try pressing down your feelings. anyone out there longing for their special someone, I just wanna say it's okay to feel that way :3 it may not be the healthiest choice, but allow yourself to long for that person until you feel it's time to actually let them go <3 enjoy !
things were just never the same anymore, it couldn't. I'd keep having dreams about you, about us. those sweet, spring memories we shared now embedded in my head like a broken record. those days when we spent our mornings showering each other with kisses, when we would take night walks in the park, when we talked about spending the rest of our lives together. those days, when we loved each other like there was no tomorrow. we did, but it just didn't last forever just like what we had wished under that shooting star.
I admit, that I still love you, the same or maybe even more than I did back then. I truly believed that we were meant to be, and no one can tell me otherwise as I've seen those eyes of yours bear the same endearment for me as I do for you. it sounds cheesy, but I am willing to be if it's you. however, as much as I want to let go of you, I don't think I'd ever come to terms with the fact that you did. we were so beautiful, don't you think so? it was as if the world revolved around us. I know we will never be able to go back to those days, to love each other again.
every night that came and went in the same repertoire. staring straight at the ceiling, reminiscing the times I still had you in my arms, crying myself to sleep, jolting awake from the same nightmare, hugging myself back to sleep. the pain was almost unbearable when it gets to the nightmare. it was my regrets for not doing my best for you, and the mistakes that I wished I hadn't made. I could never stand to see tears in your eyes, especially if it was because of me. on the day you left, you looked me in the eye, with tears threatening to roll down your crimson cheeks. that moment broke my heart to pieces, noticing the burning sensation of the wind against my skin.
it seems I have already lost you, with no chance to turn back time.
when I'm sober, everything I did numbed me to the core. when I wake up to your side of the bed empty, seeing that the once lively space all dull with silence, the fridge slowly emptying, leaving nothing but water and some alcohol. it's like I stopped functioning properly when you're not with me. the flowers that you loved so much don't look as lively, the warm breeze that greeted us daily slowly getting chilly, the stars that we spent hours looking at don't sparkle as much. you brought so much color to my world, and it returned back to being monochromatic, like those times before I met you.
you brought so much joy to my life, and I have never felt so grateful for being alive. it was the first time I felt so euphoric, fortunate to see that very smile of yours when you look at me with such affection. that smile was for me, because of me, only me. you made me feel like the luckiest person on earth to love someone as wonderful as you are. I can only hope you felt the same way as I did.
all the things in my life took a turn, not a good one at that, after you left. you took a part of me with you when you told me that things weren't working out. what did that mean? was I not doing good enough? did your feelings for me change? there were so many questions I want to ask, but sometimes, they were better left unanswered. these daggers piercing through my heart are more than enough to leave me bleeding profusely till I can't feel love anymore.
as I spent each day, yearning for your warmth and affection, there's something that I've come to realize as I take a step back to look at things. there will be no one else who would be able to fill your spot, not even with time. it's been months, almost a year that I've been standing here, not knowing what is wrong with me. that's because, nothing is wrong. everything made so much sense.
I love you and nothing can ever change that fact. even if you don't love me anymore, that's okay. all I will do is just stand here right behind you, protecting you from the shadows. although there might not be someone who would be by your side all the time, I will be right here behind you. until the day I get the chance to stand next to you, be the one you can rely on, I will be here for you.
there will be a day where we meet again, whether it be by chance or fate. and when that day comes, I want to be stronger than I am now, to give you that smile you loved so much when we were us. until then, I will take this role as your dark knight. looking over you from somewhere you wouldn't notice, offering you a hand when you struggle, finding solace right here. I know you would be able to tell that I am here, but please, leave me be. for the day I am able to let you go, will hopefully come.
so let me stay by your side for now, aeri.
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atelierlili · 1 day
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What's your headcanon for Katniss and Peeta's children?
How old was Katniss when give birth to their daughter?
How many years apart between them in age?
Your headcanon for their name?
Who gets the singing and art skill from their parent?
Bonus question : please give recs of your fav everlark post-Mockingjay fanfic.
Thank you :)
@curiousthg
You’ve made a grave mistake because I have so much to say and some art as well(becuase I’m so sane for them I swear)
So I’ve always headcannon that Katniss had her first baby in her late twenties-early thirties. In my head the 5, 10, 15 years go like this. Year 5: Katniss is open to the idea of children now. The games are done, but is Panem really safe yet? Is she ready yet. No, not really. Year 10: okay, Katniss feels safer and braver now. If it happens it happens. They won’t actively try for it and will let nature take its course. Year 15: Toast boy and girl are born within a 5-ish year time span.
Katniss names the girl Marigold for the golden flowers that Peeta planted next Katniss’ Primroses. Marigolds represent warmth, creativity, joy and good luck, but they were also given away during times of grief as a gesture of kindness and solidarity as the flower’s vibrant colours helped ease the pain of grief. Gold is also the colour that represents the bond between the district 12 team that comprised of Peeta, Katniss, Effie, Haymitch, Portia & Cinna. So it’s also carries some sentimental weight as without them and their bonds, this little girl wouldn’t have been born. Of course, Peeta calls the girl Muffin. Because she’s his little muffin. His little cupcake. It’s not until Effie decides that Mary is too bland a nickname for her favorite niece that we get the girl’s most used nickname- Muffy.
Muffy is a bundle of joy to their lives. And Katniss loves being a mother more than she’d thought. Having Muffy made Katniss yearn for the mini Peeta she dreamt of on a beach in the QQ.
Toastboy pops out about three and a half years later. The age gap is so close to be about the same as Katniss and Prim’s that it makes her heart squeeze again. His name is Cress, after Watercress (wait plz don’t leave), the aquatic plant that can be found in bunches at Katniss’ special lake. They are a highly nutritious plant to eat and is said to believe to have medicinal uses like treating swelling and fevers. The name is also a small nod to Annie Cresta and Finnick because of the water connection. His curly blonde hair gets him the nickname Goldilocks from Johanna.
Both children are highly artistic and connected to nature, Katniss teaches them both to hunt, but the kiddos don’t like it as much because they don’t like to hurt animals. It hurts Katniss a little bit, but she’s glad that bloodshed and violence (even to survive) aren’t a daily part of their lives.
Muffy is a performer. She’s definitely daddy’s little girl because she loves to yap. She could yap all day and still find something to talk about. She grows up loving to dance and then wanting to sing and dance- the dreams of making it big in the Capitol as a actress. (To Katniss’ complete and under horror) She’ll definitely develope some complex when it comes to being the Mockingjay’s daughter. Especially when she starts getting movie offers to play her Mom, even when after she tries going out of her way to distance herself from Katniss by going under a different stage name.
Cress is very much not Muffy. He’s a quiet little guy who follows after his big sister like a little duckling. He’s the only one who doesn’t get tired of her yapping and genuinely listens to her. Peeta and Katniss were a little worried when they started noticing that he wasn’t speaking for a while. They go to doctors and they can never find what’s causing this speech delay, but one day he starts talking at the age of 2, and he has the softest most sweetest voice in the world. He’s a very quiet and observant kid, that gets into more trouble than you’d think. While Peeta’s art is very imagery and emotionally (and politically) focused, Cress’s art is not. He’s super talented with a pencil and really skilled at realistic/technical drawings that he’d probably go an illustrate diagrams for scientific textbooks on nature and stuff. Growing up, he probably feels like his art work is too cold and unfeeling compared to Peeta’s splash of life. But in reality, the difference between they art styles are indicative of how they see and filter the world through their art.
Anyway, this is taking waaay to long so here is some early concept art of the toast babies. I’m still messing around with the tones and hues of their design, so none of this is final. I’m probs gonna switch Cress’s skin tone to a more golden undertone as opposed to Katniss’s reddish one to match his hair color, which might get a tad darker (or lighter tbh. In the books Peeta’s an ashy blonde) Meanwhile maybe I’ll give Muffy the redder undertone? There’s something off bout her that I need to keep experimenting with. She screams Movie Katniss baby, not Book Katniss Baby, but maybe that’s only because Jen has blue eyes.
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Ghosts are Real | Lee Felix
Pairing: Lee Felix x Ghost!Reader
Request: No. This is a repost from my old account and part of the Halloween special I did last year.
Synopsis: Felix doesn't want to believe ghosts are real until Hyunjin mentions Y/N, the resident ghost.
Warnings: I tried making this one spooky but it just ended up sweet because, after all, it's Felix. Mentions of death, exhaustion. Reader has a little brother.
Word Count: 1,303
Requests: Open.
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©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead.
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A chill runs down Felix’s spine as he hears a whisper that sounds right by his ear. He pauses the game he’s playing with Jeongin, causing the younger man to groan and drop his controller on the couch in annoyance. He was just about to beat Felix at Mario Kart for the 1000th time.   
“Did you hear that?” Felix asks his friend as he looks around the room for someone else. He knows that it’s just him and Jeongin in their dorm. Minho is out visiting his family and cats and Seungmin is out filming a vlog with Changbin and Hyunjin.   
Jeongin, slightly annoyed and thinking Felix is trying to distract him from winning this race, replies, “I didn’t hear anything.” He un-pauses the game only for Felix to pause it again causing Jeongin to become even more frustrated with his Hyung. “What the hell, Hyung?”  
“We’re still the only one’s here, right?” he asks making sure no one had come back when he went to use the bathroom or when he went into his room to grab something.  
Jeongin nods his head and stands up before disappearing into his bedroom. He comes back out a minute later holding his shoulder bag. “I need to go grab a few things. Do you need anything?”  
“I’m good,” Felix shakes his head, exiting the game before switching it off.   
After Jeongin leaves the apartment, Felix questions if he should have gone with him as an unsettling feeling falls over the apartment.   
“Ghosts aren’t real,” his voice comes out soft as he tries to convince himself that the spectral beings don’t exist. His mind travels back to all the times someone has told them about their experiences with the paranormal.   
The sound of something clattering on the floor causes him to jump and spin around, searching for what could have made the noise. He finds a metal chopstick laying on the kitchen floor. Confused and frightened, he picks it up, cleans it off and places it where they keep the chopsticks.   
“Ghosts are still not real,” he tries to convince himself again and looks for ways the chopstick could have moved from the sink to the floor.   
“-very real,” he hears a whisper. It was so quiet that if there was any other sound, he wouldn’t have heard it.  
“No, you’re not,” he finds himself arguing with the faint voice. “You’re not real because ghosts don’t exist.”  
Rushing into his room, he turns on his computer, grabs his headset and puts it on as he sits in his desk chair. As he’s about to load up his game, the computer switches off and reboots. The words ‘I am real.’ come across the black screen. Terrified he throws his headset off and hurries out of the room. He’s about to leave the apartment when Seungmin and Hyunjin make their way through the front door, causing him to scream in fright.  
“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks coming across his terrified friend, who is on the verge of tears.   
“I think we need a new dorm,” he tells them, calming down and feeling a little better that he isn’t alone anymore. “I think this one is haunted.”  
“I thought you don’t believe in ghosts?” Seungmin says as he moves into the kitchen to get himself a drink.  
“I don’t want to,” he groans. “But too much weird shit goes on here. Things are moved, doors open and close and now I’m hearing voices. Maybe I’m going crazy.”  
“Or you’ve finally met Y/N,” Hyunjin says like it’s no big deal. As someone who’s had sleep paralysis, he’s seen some weird shit and wasn’t all too surprised when he found out that the dorm the youngest three occupy with Minho is haunted.   
Felix’s fear turns into confusion, “Y/N?”  
“She’s your ghost,” he explains. “I’ve seen her a few times. She’s around our age and seems nice. But I think she’s a little lonely. It would be quite lonely being a ghost. No one can see, hear or touch you.”  
Both Felix and Seungmin look at him stunned.   
“Have you talked to her?” Seungmin asks, not sure if he should believe it himself.  
“No, but I see her out the corner of my eye sometimes,” he says and turns to Felix. “If you’re noticing everything than maybe you should talk to her. Has she tried to reach out?”  
“Something weird just happened with my computer and I know there’s no fault anywhere in it. I built it myself,” he admits. “What should I do?”  
“Get a Ouija board,” Hyunjin suggests.  
“I’m not getting one of those,” Felix shakes his head. “I’ll just download one of those apps.”  
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Later that night, Felix is in his bedroom, earphones in his ears as the static from the ghost talking app plays in his ears. All afternoon he’s been debating with himself whether he should do it or not. But his curiosity won out over his fear, and he downloaded the app he’s now bravely using. He wanted to know what was causing all the strange occurrences that’s been happening in the dorm and if any of what Hyunjin said is true.  
“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he sighs out loud.   
“For me,” a faint woman’s voice cut through the static, surprising the blonde.  
“Y/N?” he asks, his voice shaky and heart pounding against his chest. He looks around his bedroom trying to find any hint of another person being there. There’s nothing and no-one.   
The same voice cuts through the static again. “Yes.”  
He pulls his earphones out of his ears not quite believing what he’s hearing. He takes a minute to settle his racing heart and his mind before he puts the earphones back into his ears. The static fills his head again.  
“Is your name really Y/N?” he asks wanting confirmation.  
“L/N... Y/N...”  
“Hyunjin’s right about you,” he says more to himself.  
“Yes... Hyunjin... good.”   
“He’s going to lose his mind when I tell him about this,” after he says that he hears a giggle come through. He can’t help the smile that makes its way on to his lips. She has pretty laugh. “What happened to you?”  
“I... died,” he hears.  
“Obviously. How did you die?” he asks.  
“...Exhausted...”  
“Were you young?”  
“21.”  
“Way too young,” he suddenly feels sad. He’s only a few years older than she was. He feels like he still has so much to do and couldn’t imagine what it would be like having your life cut short before you can even live it fully. It makes him realize how truly blessed he is to be alive and living his dreams and reaching accomplishment after accomplishment. “I’m sorry you never got the chance to live a full life.”  
“Me... too...” her voice comes through again. “But... I lived... good... life... in years... had.”  
Feeling more at ease than earlier, he settles on his bed and spends the rest of the night talking to Y/N as if they were two new friends getting to know each other.  
Y/N told him all about her life when she was alive, her baby brother who she often goes and watches over, that Seungmin’s bedroom use to be her bedroom, but she always liked Felix’s the best because of the view and the way the sunlight and the moonlight would shine through the windows. He told her he doesn’t mind sharing the room with her and told her about how he’s living his dream with his seven best friends, how he gets to travel abroad, and do everything that he does. He even told her about his family and Australia.  
Eventually, he falls asleep with the static from the app still playing in his ears and making a mental note to talk to Hyunjin, telling him everything he learned about Y/N. 
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arxims · 20 hours
Text
MOONSTRUCK prologue
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Returning to Seoul was a decision that you finally ended up in , given that it was the place where you spent your past years. Leaving your messed up past behind, you made the conscious choice to return to Seoul in order to breathe new life into your existence. Little did you know that this decision would change your life. For the good or bad. As you reconnected with an old friend from your past, you were introduced to his younger brother, whose presence became far more significant in your life in a twisted way than you thought.
genre/au : psychopath!Jungkook x fem!oc,angst, smut, non idol au, violence.
Warnings : swearing and explicit language, graphic depiction of violence and gore, lots of blood, mentions of rape, smut, sexual activity, toxic Jungkook, walking red flag Jungkook, gaslighting, manipulation, schizophrenia, psychopathic behavior red flag behavior, mentally disturbed characters, suicide, murder, depictions of torture, serial killing, relationship abuse, lots of trauma, depression, criminal behavior, murderous tenancies, possible major character death, mentions of child abuse, narcissism, did I mention psychopathy? Oc never learns,
Rating : mature
Word count :1k
The rooftops always held a special place in your heart, no matter the building. Even if it wasn't your own apartment, there was a sense of comfort that enveloped you on rooftops under the twinkling stars and the gentle glow of the moon. Your fondness for the moon was undeniable, and you had great pleasure in watching its serene presence in the night sky.
As you made your way to the rooftop railing, you gently pulled him along with you, holding his hand, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Would you care to join me in stargazing, Mr. Jeon?" you inquired, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. You didn't need the vast expanse of the sky and a rooftop to admire the stars when you could see an entire galaxy reflected in his mesmerizing eyes.
Seating yourself at the edge, your legs dangled freely as you patted the space beside you, inviting him to share in the moment. He approached you with a casual grace, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweater, his head shielded by the hood. "What is this little kitten up to?" he teased, leaning in closer to you.
“The little kitten has some things to say. Before that get your ass here”. You found more liking towards his playful side , preferring it over the man who stirred up both nerves and desire within you. Jungkookie was more to your liking. Granting your unspoken request, he took a seat beside you.
As he settled in, you wrapped his left arm with your own, resting your head gently on his shoulder. Physical touch was a language you both spoke fluently, and Jungkook had grown accustomed to your sudden displays of affection.
"Can you believe it's been a solid four months since we met?" you playfully nudged him, a sly grin on your face. That day etched itself into the hall of fame of your memory "And look at us now, still going strong," you teased. He just hummed then chuckled in response, a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, I know about it all (Y/N/N)," he quipped with a smirk.
"But, you don't know about the next thing I'm gonna tell you" You raised your head, fixing him with a serious look. With a grin, you gently cupped his cheeks, “ I think I might just be falling for you, Jungkook. It's been brewing for months, and I've finally cracked the code. I love you."
His lips curved into a sly smile, oozing confidence like it was going out of style. "Oh, I already knew that, too" he quipped, his cockiness practically radiating off him. "But let's be real, you don't love me."
"Excuse me? You're the expert on my feelings now?" You rolled your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement at his audacity.
He poked his cheek with his tongue, a chuckle escaping him that seemed to say, 'Oh, you sweet, naive thing.' "You're such a rookie, (Y/N). You barely scratched the surface with me.”.
"Jungkookie, I don't need to go into the depths of your past. Our future is not in our hands as well, as you told me. It's the present that matters, isn't it?" With a subtle tilt of your head, you silently pleaded for him to grasp your perspective.
"What if my present isn't as pleasant as you think.?" He mirrored your gesture, his expression leaving you in a state of confusion. Intentionally. “Life is not always sunshine and rainbows”
"I don't care about that .You called me naive. Well, then let me embrace that label," you declared, lifting your head slightly.
A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers traced a path from your neck to your earlobe, a familiar gesture. The goosebumps that formed on your skin could have been from the cool night air or the mere presence of his fingertips on your delicate skin, a sensation that left you questioning.
He finally spoke up, pausing his gentle caresses. "Tell me why then," he inquired, his voice soft yet demanding.
"I don't know why," you managed to whisper, your thoughts completely captivated by the galaxy he had trapped in his eyes. You felt as though you could lose yourself in their depths, finding solace in the vastness they held.
"That's not a proper answer , Sweetheart," he remarked, removing his hood. His semi-long hair mingled with the gentle city breeze that wafted continuously, adding a serene ambience to the surroundings.
After a moment of contemplation, you organized the thoughts swirling in your mind and found the words to express them. "You're my moon, Jungkook. You light up my dark world, even if it's just a faint glow."
A chuckle escaped him at your words. "But you see, moonlight is merely an illusion. The moon itself does not emit light. Yet, you choose to believe it does and live by it because it's comforting and convincing.”
--
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Earthlings and Aliens
@liketwoswansinbalance
here it is!
Well, this was actually an experimental bit of writing I published so it isn't technically finished, and this AU is more "free range" for now. It has endless possibilities and plots I would like to use, so I don't think I will write a strict storyline to it.
Midas couldn't believe his eyes when he found the Rhian from the stories standing right in front of him.
An actual extraterrestrial being.
Midas had always heard that aliens were grotesque and strange creatures that looked nothing like human beings, yet here Rhian was, no older than he was.
Granted, Rhian still had certain vibes that could not be from this planet. Unearthly beauty. His blue eyes had some sparkle in the irises and the puplis, like miniature stars in the evening sky. His wild blonde hair and his skin also had touches of sparkle and shine. And were those antennae? Midas was not hypnotized or impressed, to Rhian’s misfortune. In fact, he was filled with distrust. He didn't trust this stranger, much less one who was ogling at him.
Rhian, on the other hand, was enchanted by Midas at first sight. The boy didn't look like the other Earthlings– so common and uninteresting. He could have been the child of either sun or moon: his sweet looking gray eyes and his terracotta skin and copper curls made him look otherworldly.
"I don't want to go to your school," he snapped. "It isn't worth leaving Bongo or my home."
Rhian smiled, and this made Midas bristle. What was so funny? Was he really so inconsiderate? Being kidnapped by an alien was an Earthling's worst fear.
"Don't worry," he said, aiming a glowing finger at Midas to stun him, "you will be treated well on the way there. Wouldn't that be nice, to ride in an actual spaceship?"
"I don't know. I'm warning you, don't let my father or a safety official see you. Once they see an alien, it's over. The governments of Planet Earth are terrified of aliens. They think people like you will bomb us and annihilate us. They believe you will bring strange drugs and your people here." 
Rhian was about to laugh. 
These Earthlings were the most stupid people he had ever encountered. A toddler from his planet could easily destroy this neighborhood. And Rafal, RAFAL, the logical, cold, calculating, intelligent twin actually believed in these idiots, in their so-called potential. Maybe Rhian needed to take Rafal to the doctor. Maybe he was becoming sick in the head.
A snake slithered across the grass and Midas bent down to stroke its head. He glowered at Rhian. "I'm telling you, my dad's coming home any minute and when he sees you, he will-" He was interrupted by screams and his neighbors calling each other.
Midas left his backyard to his front door to get to the source of the screaming, stamping,  and unusual noise, traveling two blocks away. Arabella's house? Midas thought. Did she purchase drugs or something?"
Rhian was about to trail after him, but he turned to a giant screen. On display for the public view, were three disabled androids on the street. 
Rafal, he thought with despair. Rafal would fight like this. Rafal was in trouble. Rhian vaguely remembered Rafal heading in that direction for his special Earthling…
Rhian desperately wanted to go to the spaceship and leave with Midas. Let his brother fend for himself. Yet, Rhian didn't have Rafal's key and it wouldn't let him activate it without the key. Plus, he didn't know how Rafal got here and what directions he used. He didn't pay any attention. As he approached the house where his brother must undoubtedly be trapped in, he heard obnoxious yelling inside. Rhian remembered to use his disguise, and his antennae curled in his hair. This was more stressful than he thought. He could even feel them become more and more purple. No wonder his brother always hid them, even at home. 
"We need to scan your chip," an android said. "For your resistance, we have called extra forces."
A woman was sobbing. "My daughter told me everything. She told me this foreign freak wanted to take her away. To God knows where!" 
Rafal refused to go near the android. He was doomed if they scanned his chip, anyway. The android came to him, scanning it without his consent.
"Identity not recognized," it said. "You are under arrest for suspected terrorism, attempted abduction, and illegal entrance into our planet. Please follow us."
"I am not following you," Rafal snapped. "If you make me, I will make sure you share the same fate as those other stupid robots."
The woman looked up, glaring at him. "They already called humans against you. They will track you down and kill you, just like your people deserve. How dare you enter our world! We have had enough wars. We don’t need anymore, much less from invaders like your kind."
Rhian was silently watching. Midas was right. He hoped his dad wouldn't watch.
"Is she your friend?" Rhian asked, pointing to a redheaded girl, enamored with his brother. To his disgust, Midas' attention was also turned towards his brother.
"We are classmates and neighbors," Midas said slowly. "You brought more aliens, didn't you? More creatures to take our people to your home."
"Oh, he's just my brother," Rhian said quickly. "He was the one who brought me here. This wasn't my idea in the first-" The helicopters landed, and Rafal ran outside as far as he could, Arabella following after him. Someone in the crowd held a jar with a tiny Marialena inside. "They are infiltrating our home!" He screamed. Rafal eyed Rhian's disguise  in the crowd. Arabella headed in that direction. Suddenly, gunshots rang out and the crowd stepped back.
Rafal was hit. The police dragged him inside their plane. He was certainly doomed. He also found Rhian with another handsome boy. Again? He instructed Arabella to go to the ship as soon as possible and he gave her the key. She made a huge mistake in telling her mother, but she didn't know any better. Now she did. In case Rafal died here, at least Rhian had the key. At least he could fly home to safety.Arabella's mother had stabbed him in the stomach with a kitchen knife, then screamed "911" at her virtual assistant. Rafal wished he had obliterated that stupid computer program. He wished he had bombed this whole neighborhood.
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n0heart · 2 months
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candycryptids · 2 months
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“Why choose me, who does not even offer up prayer in your name, to be your Champion? Surely you could pick another, anyone else, surely, there is someone better suited to your trials than I,”
Felt inspired after seeing This Artwork and thoroughly toasted my brains doing posing ;w; lighting, my nemesis…
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jeezypetes · 1 year
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Ahhhh the job I thought i didn’t get bc they never got back to me after my interview (which I thought went really well) just reached out to me bc apparently the person they tried to hire backed out.,.. and now its gonna be like another month of wondering if I’m gonna have to decide if I want to move to another state where I don’t know anyone. And i was kind of relieved when i never heard back bc I’m really happy here with my family and gf and friends but the fact is my job here is a contract with very slim hopes of developing into a real job with benefits and i live with my parents bc i love them and our house and our town but i know i have to seriously consider this opportunity bc it would be a good career move and i want to live a rich and interesting life. But I don’t want to talk about it with anyone irl because my dad has covid which has been my number 1 fear since the start of the pandemic (he’s 71 and immunocompromised but he’s doing well and not needed the hospital) and I just want to be able to only worry about that I can’t even talk about the job thing which i drove myself and everyone around me crazy with already back in October. Which is why I’m just posting it vjfdhk I’m being tormented by forces beyond my control i feel like this is the sort of thing it would be really helpful to believe in God about
#like people who say He has a plan which i guess is comforting but his plans are so inscrutable they may as well be random. but some people#think he wants the best for us??? which seems so unlikely to me I can’t even try to believe it#anyways i think my dad willbe fine but I’m worried about long term health issues which would make it really really hard to move away bc my#mom is already basically disabled. and i want the house I want it so bad but I can’t afford to buy it from them bc our neighborhood has#gotten sooo much more expensive then it was when they moved here in the 80s and i know they’re planning on selling it to fund their#retirement. but i love it here so much I want to live here forever and die here but its not realistic and maybe it would be easier if i#moved away and put down roots somewhere else and then it will be less painful when they sell the house and less painful when they die#i just want things ro stay likethis forever I’ve#spent so much time these past few years walking around this neighborhood its like the veins in my arms i can live other places i have for#years but they never get this deep im so scared for the futuy#future but there’s absolutely nothing i can do to stop it. except kill myself i guess but it’s#not nearly at that point yet ckgdf it would make a lot of people very upset. it is sort of comforting to remember though i have that option.#god i hope they don’t offer me the job I’m a wreck just thinking about it#i really haven’t made any special efforts to reach out to them or anything. obv I wasn’t their first choice i have no idea if I’m their#second. i think they really liked me but I’m guessing im younger and less experienced than other candidates#hi if ur reading this btw its me a stranger on the internet and you know something my closest friends and family don’t know. congrats#I’ll talk to someone in a few days when my dad is feeling better. really hope my mom doesn’t get sick too she’s been coughing a bit but#testing negative. idc if i get covid i actually hope i get it bc that will prove I didn’t give it to my dad asymptotically#that’s not a secret i toldmy mom she was like jesus Christ don’t think like that
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nerdynikki94 · 10 months
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Man, I'm still bothered by DTAMHD last night. Afterwards, I had to watch MFHP (I watched the dance 3 times) just to remind myself that once upon a time, Sunny actually took serious risks for character growth. Like, i just sat there, crying with my wine, saying "Remember when they fucking did that".
I hoped it would make me feel better about the prospect of Dennis' possible growth in the far off future, but honestly, the more I ruminate on it, the less invested I feel. Dennis isn't going to get that moment. I think RCG have related Dennis too much to their shitty fans (you know which ones I'm talking about), that they've decided he gets no emotional relief. (Which is so fucking counterproductive and harmful, because we are fucking constrained by a patriarchy that is getting worse and more controlling, filled with men who Dennis embodies, and it's just going to get even worse until those assholes get therapy.) Point being, giving up on Dennis' character growth will mean more harm than good for Sunny.
I literally woke up in a bad mood thinking about watching the ep last night. I even took today off (because it's my bday) to re-watch and analyze. But I just can't get myself to. I've rewatched every single episode of S16, at least 3 times each (even TGGB-which was painful), but I'm too letdown to watch DTAMHD a second time.
Maybe I'm coming across as a bit dramatic, but DTAMHD just confirmed my biggest fear that Dennis will never get that same chance to grow. His character is who he is, and he won't ever be held accountable for his actions, and he'll never acknowledge the fucked up trauma that he's gone through.
Great! Thanks, I hate it. Worst birthday present ever.
#iasip spoilers#iasip s16#macdennis shit takes a back seat in this. Dennis is a tragic character & I just didn’t want to believe that this is it for him.#Question: has anyone here ever felt themselves slowly lose investment in a fave character's arc?#like RCG really did something with DTAMHD. because i can actually feel my hyperfixation begin to wither and die.#i never wanted to expect macden. but this was some next level for me. like just fucking forget Dennis as a character.#what made sunny so special to me was delving into these flawed ppl & acknowledging that they're products of a fucked up upbringing#Mac came out to his dad. Charlie faced the death & abandonment of his dad. but Dennis? he daydreams & it lowers his blood pressure???#one of these is not like the other.#also. is the ep enjoyable? Yes. Did RCG just give sunnyblr a slap & laugh in our faces? also yes.#there's been hype for a Dennis' arc for a while.especially for S16.then we get a Dennis centered ep. about mental health & it's the finale?#and then that's what they gave to us? an 'it was all a dream' delusion from a man that is already too protected by the narrative to grow#i sincerely don't care how long it takes for S17. if Sunny got canceled. i would probably laugh & say yeah. DTAMHD should be the finale.#it's a very dudebro ending & that's what Sunny is catering to.#haven’t been this upset post finale since TGGTH:P2 aired.Mac going back in the closet really bothered me.DTAMHD left me w/the same feeling#i remember almost giving up on Sunny when Mac jumped back in the closet. no point getting invested in character arcs. same message
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drchucktingle · 4 months
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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT
hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.
while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.
i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously
lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU. 
unfortunately i will also have to decline.
the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.
sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.
this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.
but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.
regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?
without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.
to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?
so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’
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gurugirl · 6 days
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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screeching-bunny · 5 months
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Saw that requests were open, and maybe can you do this one? ⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄
Request- A master manipulator yandere husband that’s been with his wifey (us) since childhood. That’s right, we childhood sweethearts <3 He lovingly molded us into a dependent stepford wifey, cause what’d we do without him? He’s always been there to protect, provide, and care for us since we were young, why stop now into adulthood?
Love to have this as HC format with some dash of dialogue if possible to show some of his personality!
Also I loved your latest CEO yandere, what’s his name? He’s a favorite of mine now. Love the ones that spoil you rotten and can’t live without you!
Yandere! Husband Hcs
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
A/N: Yandere! Ceo currently doesn’t have a name rn but don’t worry he will soon!!! Thank you so much enjoying him!!!
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🌟 Yandere! Husband has been friends with you since you were children. From the moment you got out of the car and started to get your things out of the moving van, he was absolutely hooked. He practically rushed his little legs over and started to enthusiastically introduce himself to you and your family. He was honestly so thrilled to learn that you were the same age as him and going to be attending the same elementary school as him. When you first started attending school Yandere! Husband made sure to hold your hand no matter where you went. Whenever anyone asked he would say that he was only doing this to make you more comfortable (he’s doing this for his own enjoyment). This is a habit that stays even in your adult life. No matter where the two of you are, he is always holding your hand lovingly.
🌟 Yandere! Husband in elementary school used to get so upset whenever someone would try to approach you to play with them. Whenever someone did this he would always try to do petty little things to them such as trip them, tattle tale on every little thing they did, and sometimes get even a little physical. At the time he wasn’t exactly sure why he was feeling these awful emotions but what he was one hundred percent sure on was that he didn’t want anyone to take your attention off of him.
Random elementary student: “You can’t keep doing this! You’re acting like they’re yours! They can play with whoever they want, so stop acting like you own them!”
Yandere! Husband: “...” Coming to the realization that he loves hearing that. The idea of you being solely his causes his heart to beat even faster. “Mine, I like the sound of that.”
🌟 Yandere! Husband made sure to protect you from any bullies that ever tried to harm you. He wanted to be seen as a savior in your eyes and would brutally beat up anyone who tried to harm you. If he wasn’t physically strong enough to beat them then he would do everything in his power to frame them for something and get them expelled from school. He definitely has some sort of savior complex when it comes to you. Yandere! Husband made it a mission to be your first kiss when the two of you were going to graduate elementary and go into middle school. He wanted to be your first in everything and felt this was the first step into making you his. Your first kiss had been with him in his bedroom while you were over to play videogames.
Yandere! Husband: “Come on, this is the first step we gotta take in order to grow. Our first kiss has to be with someone special and you're the specialist person I know!”
Just like that, the two of you were leaning in and that was how Yandere! Husband successfully stole your first kiss.
🌟 Yandere! Husband was still stuck to your side even during puberty. It was during this time that he started getting attention from a lot of people due to his looks. He made sure to always ignore or reject them due to only having eyes for you. Yandere! Husband makes sure that your classes are all with him. Believe it or not but Yandere! Husband is extremely smart and a model student. He will make sure to point out how you are lacking academically therefore you need someone to tutor you (even if you don’t) to both teachers and the principal in order to be in the same classes as you. Yandere! Husband will make small and very subtle passive aggressive remarks about how you aren't that academically intelligent and that you need him by your side. At some point you start to believe this and believe that you need him to tutor you everyday in order to survive school.
Yandere! Husband: “It’s okay if you’re not good at anything. As long as you have me by your side, I’ll take care of you no matter what. Even if we’re old and wrinkly.”
🌟 Yandere! Husband has successfully isolated you from making friends by the time you two are in high school. You basically have no friends but him. This was mainly due to the fact that he would always try to outdo the person you were trying to befriend in order to make them seem boring. Having romantic feelings for anyone other than him was off limits. If you ever did have a crush on someone then Yandere! Husband would absolutely destroy them. He would make sure to spread the nastiest rumor about them and cause them so much shame that they would have to move away from your town in order to avoid further embarrassment. It’s probably around highschool that Yandere! Husband officially asks you out to be his lover. He makes sure to go all out while asking you out in order to make you feel special.
🌟 Yandere! Husband is proposing to you the moment the two of you graduate highschool. Don’t worry about funds, he’s a Nepo baby and will inherit his dad’s company. He definitely wants you to be his housespouse when he’s ready to go to college and work a job. He wants you to depend on him and hates the idea of you being independent without him. In order to make sure this never happens, he manipulates you into thinking that you can’t do anything without him and around. So why don't you sit still and look pretty for him when he gets home.
🌟 Yandere! Husband picks out everything when it’s time to get married. He’s a complete groomzilla and wants everything to be absolutely perfect. When he sees you in your wedding attire for the first time he definitely tears up a bit. You’re just so beautiful. Domestic life with Yandere! Husband is peaceful and calming. Yandere! Husband imagines you all the time while he is at work. When he drives home from work he likes to imagine how you would be waiting for him. Would you be waiting at the door for him or would you be asleep sprawled on the couch. He makes sure to always come home as fast as he can in order to wrap his arms around you. The sight coming home to you and a home cooked meal absolutely melts his heart. This is perfection to him and he’ll make sure to do everything in his power to protect it.
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