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#communities because you’re afraid of them and you hate them but you will NEVER be able to destroy those communities. we will always be here.
pepprs · 2 years
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like ok. not to double post but i am going to try very very hard to be hopeful. the future is not fixed. this was a fucking horrible outcome and the consequences are and will be continue to be absolutely dire. but it is not permanent. things can change. this will radicalize people who will then use that energy to try to make things better. this will make people realize that we need each other and we are nothing without community and mutual aid and it will create networks of care and deepen the networks that already exist. the justices will die or retire and new justices will take their place and they may be just as bad or even worse but they also might be better. maybe we won’t even have justices. maybe this will be the breaking point where we decide (or really reach critical mass of people deciding) we aren’t going to live like this anymore and we look at what other countries are doing and how they fought to get there and we fight even harder in that same direction. these other cases are in even more jeopardy now but maybe they wont be overturned. abortions will still happen and maybe people will pursue careers and volunteer opportjnities to make sure that even in light of this they will happen safely. the future is not fixed. this is the middle of the story, not the end of it and not the beginning of it. idk
#im saying all this in splutters and only half believing it. but people made this country. buildings exist as they do because people decided#what they would look like and where they would be. organizations and laws exist because people saw needs and advocated for them and shaped t#them to their liking. every aspect of our lives and cultures exists because people made decisions based on their lived experiences (and most#mostly along the axis of mattering / belonging or unmattering / unbelonging). but when buildings are put up they aren’t guaranteed to stay a#and aspects of them can change and aspects of them can be replaced. same with laws and organizations and institutions and governments. like#idk. im agitated and distracted but what im trying to say is that the world is fluid and not permanent. we are inundated with messages in al#all forms about how we are powerless and small etc etc but that’s only how the world appears to be and not really how it is. and when we#realize that we can come together and help liberate each other and nurture each other so we realize how very much we matter (and belong). an#and then we can work towards the world as it could be. it’s a long game and a hard game but we have to play it and we already are. brace#yourself the world is broken time is not a straight line we are braving the storm etc etc ***** said it better LMFAOOOOO but it’s really#true. there is still hope and it is not all lost. all of the issues are interconnected and we can fight them by creating something brand new#together. by imagining a new future together and holding each other’s hands as we climb into it. yeah#purrs#also another thing. they WANT us to feel hopeless and afraid. they WANT us to concede power to them. so i am going to try to say fuck you. i#am going to try to look them in the eye and say i will not budge an inch. you can take away protections and resources for vulnerable#communities because you’re afraid of them and you hate them but you will NEVER be able to destroy those communities. we will always be here.
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ebullientheart · 10 months
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sleep mad. spencer reid x reader
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content — hurt comfort. bau!reader. mention of bau case. short fic.
you don’t let spencer leave your hotel room after a fight.
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it was a perfectly normal reaction, to storm out for fresh air after a tense argument. spencer didn’t expect you to literally scream ‘no!’ from behind him. he turned on his heel so fast, recognising the fear in your voice from case victims, preparing himself to see you being attacked. he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of tears, and no criminal presence.
when the two of you disagreed, it was almost always with quiet voices and levelled frustration. this time was no different. neither of you had yelled, cursed, or become enraged. it was irritation and exhaustion at the root of it, and it wasn’t worth the look on your face now. his own eyes shot wide in concern, spencer saw how you visibly trembled in the doorway, despite the evening being uncharacteristically warm, humid even. in the dingy light from the hotel hallway, he could hardly make out the contours of your face, but he could imagine what it must have looked like. why had you shouted?
you swiped messily at the damp rivets dug into your cheeks from the sudden fit of crying, effectively willing yourself to stop as you folded your arms defensively. your voice was wavering but firm as you said, “no. if you want space, i’ll go sit on the fire escape, but you can’t… you can’t leave this late spence.”
he raised a brow at you. usually, he disliked being told what to do, but that clearly wasn’t your intention here. spencer could clearly see the terror on your face, but he couldn’t decipher what you were so afraid of. so, forgetting the rule to not profile each other, he asked. you reached forward and tugged him into the room by his forearm, ever gentle, before spinning away to leave him be. but he didn’t want space anymore, he wanted answers.
“what’s going on?”
knowing you could never successfully lie to spencer, you sighed and dug your hands into your pockets. you felt guilty for not allowing him what he’d needed to cool off, but you couldn’t let him leave like that while working this case. each of the three victims left behind a brokenhearted spouse, each of which you’d been interviewing since eight that morning. the last was the worst, breaking down fully in jj’s arms, wracked with uncontrollable sobbing as they explained the last interaction they’d shared was a verbally vicious fight. their last words were venomous, and no peace was made.
“tell me.” spencer’s demand was soft. he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, and your heart twisted as the new angle enunciated the dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. you were sure you sported a matching pair.
you tried your best not to shut down, to communicate, “we… we see so many grievers. how many tell us that their last conversations were full of anger? they… can’t ever accept what happened, move on, because they never go to say ‘i love you’ that last time. they think the other died hating them. if we’re apart, and something happens, and our last words were just mean…”
he listened as you struggled through your explanation, but when you finally trailed off and dropped eye contact, he stood slowly. you heard him pad across the cheap carpet to get close enough to find the palm of your hand, and you let him take it in his own. a light rain had begun to batter the small window.
“you’re right,” spencer whispered, something you rarely hear when dating a genius, “you’re right. our lives are dangerous. but i don’t want us to fight anyway. i’m sorry.”
you sniffed and tried to not think about how pathetic you sounded when you repeated his final sentence back to him, equally as sincere.
spencer thumbed lightly at the dip between your eye and cheekbone, “i love you. now, and when we fight. i- i always love you.”
again, you echoed his sentiment, accompanying it with the sweetest kiss you could press to his jaw. your fingers curled into his hair, carefully undoing a tangle, and simultaneously undoing every knot of tense muscle in his body.
most couples just worried about going to sleep mad. you weren’t sure what it said that your worries centred around one of you being brutally murdered before making up, but you supposed that unique thought process just came with the territory. there was no blanket pulled over your eyes, the world wasn’t hiding it’s most sinister corners from you. or if it was, you sought them out. but those fears that usually haunted you just melted away when you held spencer. you were just like most couples.
two young adults, completely in love, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of your breaths in a crappy hotel, blissfully ignorant to the residents of the rooms either side of you grumbling about being awoken by your hallway confrontation.
a mess of entwined limbs, you eventually made it to bed, to sleep. one of you, or maybe both, uttered an “i love you” every few minutes. an enforced reminder to linger in your half-asleep state, lulling your minds to rest.
sleep came easy, for once.
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joelsgoldrush · 10 months
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swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that
joel miller x f!reader / 5,8k words
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summary: you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.
warnings: smut 18+ let’s pretend joel never left jackson, porn with plot, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel is 56), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, pet names, unprotected p in v (don't try this at home ok), dirty talk, soft!dom joel (sort of???), a bit of angst/feelings, joel gets all babygirl around reader, ellie appears for like a minute, mediocre attempt at recreating joel's southern accent (sorry in advance)
a/n: hello??? well this is my first fic ever so bear with me, i'm still new to all this. also english isn't my first language so i'm afraid there may be mistakes (mostly when it comes to collocations bc i hate them and they confuse me), buuuut i'm learning obviously and if you find anything that should be corrected PLEASE TELL ME thank you :) i'd appreciate if you told whether you liked this story (idk what to call it tbh) but if you don't it's more than fine! anyways thank you so much for reading if you come across this fic, i hope you like it! i've spent a week writing it bc finals season is killing me <///3
here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)
"Oh, my drunken southern star / How you tried to hide in darkness / Slipped from orbit / Now you’re dangerously close / Come out, come out from all your hiding out / We’ll dig in our heels, salute the battlefields / Where our broken hearts were born."
What is it that he has?
You used to ask yourself that question every night as you went to bed. On some occasions, you couldn't manage to come up with an exact answer. There were too many reasons that disclosed why a man like him lingered on your mind, even in those moments that were supposed to be for you and only you. Sleeping more than three hours a day was definitely something you needed tremendously, but still, the not-so-rational voice inside your head kept on bringing his name up without fail, disturbing your rest.
Joel Miller. Was it possible to feel like this? Like you knew somebody without having exchanged more than five words with them? Sure, there wasn't a single person in Jackson who wasn't aware of his existence. From whispered rumors in the streets to stories that intended to give his reserved personality an explanation, Joel became a real talking-point among those in the commune. Years ago, when the world was still just a floating ball in space, he would’ve frightened you, being the kind of person your parents used to warn you about as you started to grow older.
He walked a certain way, as if he were holding the suffering of many lives in his hands. Always on guard, prepared to fight those who defied him. Hidden knives in his pockets, a gun between his fingers, the trigger too tempting to be pulled at any time given. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray, and you swore that the latter was only becoming more prominent as days went by. 
Suddenly, your pillow felt too uncomfortable, your hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt while you kicked the blanket resting on top of your bare feet. A sigh escaped your lips, the taste of something you couldn't even distinguish on your tongue, your unsteady breath being the only sound to be heard in that noiseless night. 
You were having a hard time figuring out how you felt about Joel (if there was anything to feel in the first place, since he barely remembered your face and there you were, fantasizing about him instead of sleeping.) Maybe you liked how he presented himself, how bossy and persistent he looked the times you caught him patrolling around the zone. Or perhaps it was his character what charmed you in the first place, and the fact that, deep down, a different side from him remained completely unseen.
He was handsome, too. Tall, broad shoulders, aquiline nose. His arms looked majestic in every single piece of clothing he wore, his tanned skin shiny enough to reflect the very same sun. And his legs… you were sure they were muscular like the rest of his body, because of all the physical effort he did. You had  heard that he worked as a contractor before the pandemic, which made a lot of sense. Once or twice you had paid attention to his hands and–
Then, a familiar feeling sinked in. Warm began spreading through your belly, your thighs involuntary clenching together. “Fuck,” you muttered in a low tone, keeping your hands glued to your sides. Another motive not to think about Joel: he made you feel… things. Certain things that you hadn't felt for anyone in a very long time. You preferred to think that it was probably due to the fact that you were touch-starved, and not because you found yourself deeply attracted to him. Never had you ever been a sexually active person, so why now? Why did the mere image of Joel in your mind turn you on? 
He’s strong. I’m alone. I feel the need to find someone who’s willing to protect me. That’s it. No other reason.
Your internal monologue was lacking in arguments, but it was definitely something you could work with. As if on cue, you found it hard to keep your eyes open, your limbs not feeling as if they were yours anymore. Next thing you knew, you were asleep.
That night, you dreamt with Joel.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
In a small cabin, you taught children how to paint and draw. Maria believed it to be helpful for their psychological development or something like that, and you had agreed to do it. A good way to spend your free time– that’s what it was. Plus, you liked children; some would even choose to include you in their drawings, and that small gesture just warmed your heart.
There, you met Ellie, a teenager whose basic vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities. 
And boy, you loved Ellie.
It was hard not to, actually. She was like a breath of fresh air, with her jokes and instant charm. You two became attached in a short time, and she reminded you of a younger version of you, just a lot braver. Although in this world it brought her benefits, you sometimes wished she wouldn’t have gone through all that shit. Those eyes, which squinted as she laughed if you tickled her sides, were the cemetery of many buried memories. You wondered how she managed to put a smile on her face despite her past and the horrible things she had seen, hoping it was genuine and not a mask.
“Look!” her voice brought you back to reality. Blinking in her direction, you realized the amount of paint you had dropped onto the floor, a red stain already forming on the carpet. “Are you okay? You seem off.”
“I’m fine! Just a bit sleepy today, that's all,” you got closer to where she was lying down, her fingers moving the brush you had gifted her in different directions. Squatting a bit, you placed a strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail behind her ear. “So, what are you painting?”
She smiled warmly, and her teeth catched her lower lip momentarily. “It’s not finished, okay? Don’t freak out. I know you’re a perfectionist.”
“I’m not…” you tried to explain yourself, but ended up choosing to be defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, may I see it?”
The canvas was in your hands a few moments later. Ellie spoke beside you, her words mixing together in a sign of embarrassment. “It’s for Joel. Figured I could do something nice for him, you know? I don’t– I think I need to start over. His eyes look kind of strange, don’t they? They’re so close he looks like a cyclops.”
“Don’t say that, kiddo. This is… it’s beautiful,” your index finger traced the lines framing his jaw, the shades of his skin perfectly achieved. You held the painting even tighter, afraid of breaking it for a second. He wasn’t frowning like he normally did; Ellie had painted him smiling, and the crinkles by his eyes matched his age. Surely you must have spent more time than necessary staring at it, ‘cause then Ellie continued talking.
“Well, you know what they say: The student has become the teacher.” 
You handed the canvas to her, a smirk taking place on your face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stop teaching you if that’s the case.”
An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. As both of your hands were occupied (a more formal way to say that they were dirty with paint), you screamed “Come in!”, and Ellie covered her painting with an old, muddy curtain you used to clean the tables in which the children worked. You were about to ask her why she had reacted in that way, until you turned around and saw him.
Joel was there, as every other Wednesday. In your cabin, standing right in front of you. And you didn’t even look presentable. His hair looked messy, a couple of locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Hi,” he said shortly, meeting your gaze and attempting to shake your hand, but you avoided contact.
Showing him your hands, you held your palms in the air as an indication of the still fresh paint on your skin. “Sorry. If I were to accept the gesture, I’d leave you a stain.”
He retrieved a bit, adjusting his glove. “It’s okay. Safety first.”
That was supposed to be a joke, you noticed tardily. The silence in the room persisted until Ellie appeared from behind your back, already putting her coat on.
“You were supposed to pick me up in half an hour, asshole.”
His mouth snapped shut for an instant. “I missed you too. How was the class?” 
Ellie lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, looking in your direction and proceeding to jerk her thumb toward Joel. She didn’t want him to see the painting. “Fine as usual.”
“Can I see what you’re–”
“No fucking way!” she accentuated the word fucking, drawing him closer to the door. 
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not done.”
“But–”
“No more questions, Joel. Let’s go! Say bye!” Ellie handled him like a baby, which made you giggle.
Though you saw Joel raising his eyebrows, so you stopped laughing. 
Soon, they left and the cabin returned to its familiar quietness. A sigh erupted from your chest, and you allowed yourself to fall on top of a chair.
At least you could say you had actually talked to Joel for once.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
It didn’t surprise you that you wanted to see him again.
Not in the “you-turn-me-on” way, but in the “you-seem-interesting-and-i-need-to-find-out-why” one.
He had something. Something so magnetic and indecipherable that kept pulling you towards him. Something that made you look for his presence in every crew, and not sensing what it was only made your wishes to dissect him grow bigger. There was a tiny probability that he was an idiot with a pretty face. Who knew? You definitely didn’t, and that needed to change. You deserved to know if pining over that man was worth it or not.
That chain of thoughts led you to look for him the next day, almost trembling with eagerness as you asked him the most stupid and unexpected question you could have imagined.
“Would you teach me how to ride a horse?”
He looked at you as if you were out of your mind, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it before he actually replied to you. “You’re tellin' me you don’t know how to ride a horse?”
“Tried it a few times, but failed and now I really want to learn to do it properly,” you swore his eyes were trying to decipher if you were saying the truth or not. “Ellie told me that you could probably make some time to teach me?”
“So Ellie's in charge of my schedule, I suppose?” you froze on the spot, and he must have noticed it because then his expression dulled. “Sorry, sweetheart. It was a joke. I've been told I'm not the best humorist.”
Sweetheart. You could’ve died a happy girl.
“Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow after lunch? I'm sure it won’t take us much time. Not a difficult task, y’know?” he stroked his beard, apparently thinking you understood what he was talking about. 
“Sure. Thank you, Joel. My name’s–“
He didn’t let you finish. “I do know your name,” and before leaving, he repeated: “I’ll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me.”
To say that you slept without interruptions that night was an understatement. Each hour seemed to become longer the more you glimpsed your watch. Your heart drummed inside your chest violently, and you feared that someone else would be able to hear it if they got close enough to you. 
After having lunch in the same spot as every other mundane day, your legs took you to the stable. You took a shaky breath, expecting him to appear out of thin air, but fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Joel. Pressing your forehead against the wooden door, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “What was I even thinking?” 
“Hey.”
You looked to your side and– there he was, already getting inside the stable and inviting you to follow him. Joel petted one of the horses, clicking his tongue. His fingers caressed the animal’s back, and when he shot a glance at you, he didn’t ignore your disturbed expression.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of horses.”
“I’m not afraid of them,” you laughed awkwardly, eyeing the horse, which stared at you with those big and strange eyes. You raised your hand to mimic Joel, but that just made the animal move further away from you. “I guess it’s mutual. We don’t like each other.”
Joel smirked, guiding you outside. “It’s a damn horse. I don’t think you can tell whether he likes you or not. You gotta change that attitude of yours,” he murmured as he got on top of the horse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Treat him well and he’ll be nice.”
At first, Joel taught you the basics: how to position yourself for balance, get your legs in the right position, hold the reins properly. A little bit of help coming from him was needed for you to mount the horse. He got down on one knee, patting it as if it were a mounting block. “Come on. Step on it.”
No need to ask me twice, you thought as you did what you were told, and once you were grabbing on those reins for dear life, you observed him with curious eyes. “Now what?”
“Now…” he pressed his hand into one of the horse’s sides, and afterwards, the horse began to fucking trot and you cried out, a high-pitched shriek slipping from your mouth. Joel laughed maliciously, almost hypnotized by the scene. “Now is when you learn how to ride a horse!”
“This isn't funny!” you screamed, the horse still very much entertained with the way you were jerking on top of him. “Stop!”
You couldn't believe how he kept… cracking up. Joel touched his stomach, shaking with laughter. “You’re a natural, can’t you see it? I’m havin' the time of my life here.”
“What I can see is that you’re an idiot! Cut the cackle and help me!”
But he didn’t move a single muscle. Instead, he remained still, that smug look never abandoning his features.
The bastard. “You’re gonna make me beg? In this situation?”
Crossing his arms while teasingly grinning at you, he added: “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“Joel Miller, will you help me? Pretty please?” your hair was getting in the way, and you could taste it as you insisted. “Is that enough for you?”
It was, actually. He helped you get down from the horse, his thick fingers digging into the mushy skin of your waist. It shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did. You were supposed to be angry at him for setting you up and still, by touching you for a microsecond, he had transformed you into something malleable.
Sadly, that feeling didn’t last much longer. “Didn’t know you were a man of manners. Should’ve told me beforehand.”
“Didn't know you could scream like that. I hope you didn’t freak anyone out.”
The two of you continued to practice until nightfall. A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man. Everytime you tried to quit, he stopped you, making it impossible for you to rest. You stared at him, rubbing the back of your sore neck with a grimace. “I’m tired. Can we go back?”
“One more time.”
“Joel–”
“Trot a couple of meters just one more time, and that’s it for today. Can you do that for me?”
You tried not to pay too much attention to his choice of words, although it was basically non-viable. He looked sinful, and you longed to shut him up with a bruising kiss. Again, a hopeless option. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his stubble, rough and coarse under your thumbs. How could you stay focused when the man you had been daydreaming with for the last couple of months was bossing you around? 
Despite your inability to clear your head of any of those thoughts, you managed to accomplish what he had asked you to do. “Well done,” he offered you his hand to dismount the horse and you accepted it, sighing as you stretched out your arms. “We should take him back to the stable,” Joel suggested, giving you the impression of being pleased as you told him you were coming with him.
Inside the stable, he relocated the horse into one of the many stalls. Unbelievably, the place didn’t smell like absolute shit, which was what you were expecting from a barn. “Thank you for the lesson,” you told Joel once he was done with the horse.
“Anytime,” he scratched his jaw, the dim light making his dark eyes look, if possible, even darker. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“No. You were right,” your heart thrummed with every word that he blurted. His presence was addictive. You were never the one to have any bad habits, but deep down, you recognized that he easily could develop one. “I thought you were less talkative.”
“So did I,” for an instant, he pressed his lips together, forming a tight line, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have in the first place. “I think I didn’t ask you this before: but why now? I mean, why did you wait so much time to learn how to ride a horse? Everyone in Jackson seems to know how.”
You cleared your throat, his piercing eyes peering at your movements. “I guess I thought it wasn't necessary back then, before all this. It's one of those things that you don't even consider until it becomes inevitable. I used to believe I had a lot of time left when I was younger,” you had never talked about this with anyone else. There was something so intimate about this conversation, how Joel stood seemingly tongue-tied in front of you, as if he were taking notes of what you were confessing to him. “I remember being a kid and not wanting to use my toys sometimes because I kept waiting for the right moment. But then…”
“You realize there’s no such thing as the right moment,” he finished the sentence for you, and you bowed your head. “Life can end at any moment, especially in a world like ours. That’s why you always gotta do what you wish to. We never know what’ll happen tomorrow.”
“Live for today, hope for tomorrow? That’s your creed?” you tried to mock him, the tension in the stable far from evident, but he didn’t move.
“It’s the way I try to live my own life. I don’t like being left with the desire to do somethin’ I could’ve done earlier. Too old for that.”
Maybe you were gradually losing it. Perhaps just a little. It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Had he noticed how you acted around him? Were you that obvious?
“So, you would advise me to just…”
“Do whatever you feel right, sweetheart.”
That raspy sweetheart made you give in.
His eyes. His penetrating, gleaming eyes scrutinized your face at the same time you closed the distance between your bodies. From there, you were able to see every freckle, every small detail that you hadn’t previously acknowledged. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words other than your name came out. One of your hands made its way up to his cheek, cupping it, feeling the warmth his skin radiated. His head immediately leaned into your touch, like a moth into a flame. 
You kissed him, unable to keep waiting. It took him what felt like ages to kiss you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He absorbed your whimpers, pressing your back against the nearest wall. Maddening– it was the perfect word to describe how being kissed by Joel felt like. When you thought he was going to draw away from you, he just held you tighter until your lungs implored for some air. Your knees had never felt this weak, and you found yourself grabbing onto his shoulders, already feeling the places where his stubble had left its trace in flames. 
“Joel…” you mumbled against his lips, detaching your mouth from his. Your erratic breaths seemed to sync together like a melody, and you tugged at the collar of his jacket. 
He knew, could see it on your features. “Wanna go to yours?”
Joel took you home. The moment you set foot in the cabin, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the handle as he contemplated you from a distance. You took your coat off first, starting to unzip your pants. There was silence long enough to hear crickets in, the moon up in the sky being the only bystander of your meeting. His eyes roamed the newly exposed skin of your legs and you observed him gulp. 
“Did something happen?” you asked him, a flush crepting up your face. Taking a step forward, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours.
“No, it’s just that– Are you sure you want this?”
Crinkling your nose, you uttered: “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m just too old for you,” he warned you, running a knuckle down your cheek. “You should be with guys your age, y’know? Not with an old man like me.”
“I want you,” reassuring him, you got rid of your t-shirt, and the fact he was still dressed up from neck to toes lit some kind of fire inside you. His calloused fingers fiddled with the strap of your bra until it slipped off your shoulder. “This is what I want. Please, Joel.”
It turned out that Joel Miller certainly was a man of manners.
You couldn't help but moan as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you to the couch by the window and straddling his lap, his hard-on finding its place beneath you, pulsing and in need of more. His tongue brushed yours ever so often, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his teeth latched onto the skin of your throat. Joel groaned, the sound, low and primal, having its desired effect on you, your hips involuntarily grinding against his in a delicious but tormenting rhythm that already had you on the verge of tears.
“Joel, please,” you managed to plead, not knowing precisely what you were asking for. His hands cupped your ass, imprinting his fingerprints on the soft flesh, forcing your hips to go harder and harder. The harsh fabric of his pants was definitely going to leave a mark on your cheeks, and thinking that helped you realize that you were the only one –almost– naked. You reached for the buttons of his denim shirt, your lips hovering over his. “Take your clothes off?”
He did the rest himself, throwing his jacket to the floor. When he got to his jeans, he cocked his head. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, if you’re so goddamn needy?” The few guys you had been with had never been very talkative during sex; there was even this one specific boy who had asked you to not make a sound while he fucked you. 
But Joel wasn’t like them. It was just starting and you had already realized that he had a dirty mouth, an expectant look on his face every time he waited for your reaction to his words. “Now you’re quiet, huh? Thought you wanted me to fuck you, darlin',” one of his fingers pressed down on your clit, stimulating it through your underwear. He sighed, stopping his movements and pressing the damp pad of it against your lower lip, urging you to taste yourself. “You’re wet, baby. So fuckin’ wet. Have you been like this all day? Bet you would’ve let me take you right there in the forest.”
“Oh my God,” you whined next to his ear, your whole body trembling with desire. “Take me to bed,” you begged him, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you as if you weighed nothing and heading towards your room. 
Not knowing how, you kept your hands to yourself until he placed you on top of the bed. Joel shoved his jeans down and you didn’t think twice– you stroked his length, the fabric of his boxers only making the slow drag of your hand more satisfying. His long fingers circled your throat, and you moaned as you kept eliciting exquisite noises from him. “Let me take care of you,” his dilated pupils carved holes in your being, his grip doing nothing to cease the ache between your legs. “Please, baby. I need to make you feel good. Been thinkin’ about this for so long.”
“What?” you slowed down your pace, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You wanted me?”
“Why do you think I began to pick Ellie up from your classes, huh? Because I’m a good, generous man?” Joel parted your knees, getting closer to where you required him the most. “I’m sorry to ruin this, but I’m far from good. Just wanted to see you and your pretty face. Didn’t know if we were on the same page until you came lookin' for me, askin' me to teach you how to ride a damn horse,” you hadn’t noticed your bra was missing till he cupped one of your breasts, flicking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m sure there were many other people you could’ve asked to teach you, but you chose me, didn’t you?”
“Don’t want anybody else,” your lips chased his, a drop of sweat already rolling down your temple. “I didn’t– didn’t know you noticed me.”
“How could I not? If you could only look at yourself like I’m doing right now… You’re a sight, sweetheart, all spread out for me,” removing your panties, he kissed the skin where your inner thighs met, his tongue darting out to draw imaginary figures on your flesh. His mouth was just inches away from your cunt, and you had to tell him.
“Joel?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve never– nobody has ever done that for me.”
He seemed to understand what you were referring to. It made you tense a bit, despite the fact that you were completely naked in front of him, basically begging him to tear you apart. Still, the realization that you weren't as expert as him hit you out of nowhere. Yeah, it was all fun and games, kissing and touching probably the hottest man you had seen in your almost three decades of life. But said man was a lot older than you, and he had lived his best years in the real world, not this fucked up version you grew up in. You were sure he had been with many different women, which wasn’t a problem– you two were nothing.
“Nobody has ever tasted ya’? That’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” you nodded quickly, shoving a strand of his graying hair back away from his eyes. Joel chuckled languidly, squeezing your hips. “Do you want me to? It’s okay if you don’t. We can try somethin’ else.”
“Please,” you’d have time to embarrass yourself later, thinking about the amount of times you had repeated that word. But certain moments were to be lived only once, and though you hoped it wasn't the case, you had to take the chance. “I want you to.”
Four words. It took Joel four words to disappear between your legs, licking a hot stripe up your folds. You nibbled on your bottom lip, a loud moan filling the void of your dorm. He drew sweet patterns in your cunt, discovering a part of you that no one else ever had, and you couldn’t help but to grind against his face as he dipped the tip of his tongue into your entrance. Breathing wasn’t a necessity anymore. You felt as if all the air in the world was being punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter the more Joel spent his precious time keeping you entertained.
At some point, he focused his attention on your clit, circling it over and over again, making you shudder. Suddenly, the pad of his middle finger tested the waters, and he slowly slid it into your cunt, earning a strangled whine from you. Burying your hands in his hair, your glossy eyes looked for him for a second. You shouldn’t have done that, because as you took in the sight of Joel with his own eyes closed, browns knitted, your nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was even possible to want somebody that much.
“Joel, wait, I’m– fuck,” your jaw went slack and you scrunched up your face, two of his thick fingers nudging that spot that made you see stars. “I’m close.” 
“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. Don’t know why you say it in such a dry tone,” his mouth curved into a smile, his chin and stubble shining with your slick. 
Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I don’t want to come yet.”
“But you will.”
A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man.
“Joel–“
“I’ll make you come with my mouth, and then with my cock,” dizziness was starting to blur your vision, your eyelashes fluttering with every hard thrust of his fingers. You glanced up to the ceiling, tears filling your eyes. “Think you can do that for me, be my good girl and come twice?”
You bobbed your head. It was official: he was going to make you come.
Drawing in a long breath, you could feel the unbearable pressure in your core. His name sounded like a prayer on your lips, chanting it in the same way some people expressed their devotion to a certain God. You had your own personal deity, whose tongue accomplished to push you to the limit, licking every drop of your release as if it were a special kind of forbidden elixir.  
Your shoulders sagged and you relaxed under him. Joel kissed you, an open mouthed and filthy kiss crowning that moment as you panted. Through the cotton fabric of his boxers, you felt his hard-on poking your thigh. Shoving his underwear down, you took him in your hand, hot and just big, stroking him for real this time. You twisted your wrist at the tip, and he slumped forward, almost crushing you with his entire body weight, his breath dampening your neck. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he croaked, his hips chasing your touch.
Out of all the scenarios you had ever imagined, none of them included being split open by Joel. You had a very vivid imagination, but no amount of creativity would’ve prepared you for what his cock would feel like inside of you. He bottomed out, his arms shaking where they rested on each side of your head. Joel’s breath quickened as he pulled out, just letting the tip, and then thrusting into you again.
“Fuck,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was even hard to decipher if you were still alive or dead from how magnificent he felt.
“So good, sweetheart. You’re so good, such a good girl,” he groaned, fucking deeper into you. His cock pulsed inside you, your cunt squeezing him. “Can’t believe how– how tight you are. You’re gonna make me lose my f–fucking mind.”
It was just too much. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm before Joel started pounding into you like his life depended on it, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin ringing out in the room. 
“You gonna come, huh? Gonna make a mess?” you could sense he was also close, his pace faltering as seconds went by, words slurring together. He pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists and taking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”
Come inside, you wished to tell him, to feel his seed dripping out of your greedy hole, painting your walls. But you weren't on the pill; it was also the first time you were sleeping with Joel, and you didn’t know how he would take the… suggestion. “Close,” you yelped instead, tears shimmering in your eyes as Joel’s body hovered over you like the most perfect eclipse. 
His thrusts became more frenzied, if possible. “That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” your gaze fixated upon him, his eyes flickering with hunger. “Wanna see you when you soak my cock.”
Your body went limp, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Soreness took place in your throat as you moaned his name through the aftershocks, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Going rigid, you let go of Joel’s shoulders. He pulled out, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch. You fisted his cock, trying to give him the release he so yearned for. Joel kissed you, messy teeth and saliva taking part of it. Heavy on your hand, his dick twitched as you squeezed the base, roped of his warm cum splattering your belly. The scene reminded you of a painting; he was the talented painter, and you his blank canvas, waiting to be signed with his name.
It was the turn of silence now. None of you said anything for a while, until Joel used his boxers to clean up his cum from your stomach, smiling apologetically at you. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” your fingers delicately traced the contours of his chest as he reclined, enveloping you in the embrace of his strong arms. “Will you stay?”
Please say yes.
“Only if you want me to.”
Moral of the story: learning how to ride a horse can actually be nice if your teacher happens to be Joel Miller.
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fuckmyskywalker · 7 months
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"Frustration!" — Anakin Skywalker.
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— CW: 18+, smut. Hate sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus. | Word count: 1.2k!
— Taglist! | List of films!
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“Anakin, fucking let go of me!” The leather of his glove digs into your skin, as he drags you harshly into the cockpit.
He locks the door behind him, not even bothering to give you the reason why he’s so upset about… well, something. Only Anakin knows what’s going on inside his mind— although, sometimes you wonder if he even knows what’s going on. You try to stay calm, but your heart is racing. Anakin's face is contorted into something unreadable and his eyes are wide. He turns away from you, seemingly out of anger or fear— or both.
“Do you like him?” He asks out of the blue, increasing your confused state. He crosses his arms over his chest as he waits for your answer. 
With no clue what he is talking about, you stare at him rather annoyed. The lack of answer makes him scoff, he thinks you’re playing dumb. Anakin thinks everyone should know what he is thinking about and to some extent, it’s frustrating. The lack of communication on his part when it comes to literally any ambit is potentially a red flag— but who would dare to question the Chosen One?
Anakin knows he can be as cocky as he wants. He is demanding and irritating— his ego is as big as Yavin Prime, if not bigger. But, you always find a way to put a stop to him, and that frustrates him even more. He hates that you are the only person who can say “no” to him, not even Obi-Wan can stop him when he has his mind set on something. Plus, it doesn’t help at all that he’s been fucking with you for a while now.
“I asked you a question, fucking answer it,” Anakin’s tone is beyond demanding. With what right is he talking to you as if you were one of his soldiers? 
You finally talk, “Anakin, I have no clue who are you talking about.”
“Don’t play stupid, I saw you. You were flirting with Senator Cadaman,” his body language is aggressive, something you are more than accustomed to. 
«Oh Maker, he is jealous,» you think. That was unexpected. 
“Anakin,” taking a step closer, you mirror his position, crossing your arms as well. In an ideal situation, you would calm him down, and let him know that nothing is going on between you and Cadaman… but this will never be the ideal situation— not when Anakin Skywalker is involved. “I wasn’t flirting with him. It’s called being polite, is it suddenly my fault you mistake simple manners with flirting, just because no one is nice to you?”
Perhaps you were being harsh on him, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with Anakin’s jealousy— not now, not never. Boundaries were never set to start with; it’s not formal, it’s not a relationship.
It’s just sex.
“People are nice to me.”
“Only because they are afraid of you.”
“No, it is because they respect me!” His voice raises. Deep down he knows that maybe, just maybe, you're right— but Anakin would rather die than admit when he’s wrong.
“Get out of your damn bubble, Anakin. It has nothing to do with respect; when people respect you they admire you,” closing the distance between your bodies, you raise your hand, digging your index finger into his chest. “People fear what may happen to them if they don’t agree with you, or follow your orders, or deny you something.”
His flesh hand grabs your own, yanking you towards him and pressing you against his chest. His gloved hand reaches for your jaw, forcing you to raise your head to look at him— it hurts. He is being rough. He is mad.
“Fear?” He looks down at you with lust and sentiment, barely covered by a thin veil of disgust. Only you can say no to him. Only you have the courage to treat him as an equal— and that makes his dick so, so hard. “I’ll fucking show you what fear is.”
You fight against him, but it’s pretty much pointless. Anakin spins you and presses your chest over the ship panel, the different buttons and levers painfully digging into your skin. He struggles to take your pants off but in the end, he manages to yank them below your knees— adding a hint of humiliation to the situation. His gloved hand slaps your ass harshly, causing you to moan. 
“Do you want to be a bitch and talk back?” He says after another slap. “Do you want to act like a slut?”
“Anakin!” You wail. He smiles, this is how he wants you. This is where he thinks you belong. 
“Do you want me to stop?” Another slap. The dynamic between you two has always been the same, fighting, arguing, and calling each other names… until you grew up enough to blow the steam off in more… carnal ways. “Tell me to fucking stop, and I will.”
But you don’t. You find yourself unable to speak. 
You hate how he breaks your will, you hate how you only find pleasure in his rough treatment, and you especially hate feeding his ego.
“See? I know you. I know the real you,” his voice is pure spite, despite the lewd undertones. “I know you are nothing more than a slut, you enjoy the attention.”
The skin of your ass is burning, and it hurts, but the words that could make him stop his assault never leave your lips. You feel powerless, like you are nothing more than a toy that he can play with at his leisure. You hate the feeling of not being in control of your own body, and you curse yourself for not being able to break free from his grip. Is that same power play that keeps you tied to him— and what keeps Anakin always coming back to you?
“See how fucking wet you are?” 
He is disgusting. You despise him— but you push your hips towards his face when he kneels right behind you to plunge his tongue inside your pussy. He laps at you without shame, as if he doesn’t even know the definition of it. Anakin eats you out relentlessly, groaning at the taste. 
“I fucking hate you and your perfect fucking cunt,” he spits right on you, mixing your arousal with his saliva. The act makes you squirm, stretching your arm behind you and yanking his messy hair bringing back his face to where you need him the most. 
“Shut up, shut the fuck up,” you breathe, closing your eyes. “W–Why can’t you just be quiet for five damn minutes!”
Anakin moans against your core, closing his eyes and fucking you with his tongue until your knees go weak. Sneaking his hand in between your legs he rubs tight, quick circles over your clit which triggers your orgasm— perhaps faster than on any other occasion. Biting your lower lip, refusing to let his name escape from the deepest corners of your mind, you close your eyes to focus on the lewd noises of the man behind you— practically slurping everything you have to offer. 
In an instant, he is standing next to you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and crashing his lips against yours. Smearing the wetness all over his mouth over your face, the kiss is messy, borderline savage— and you love it.
“I wasn’t flirting with him,” you whisper.
“I know.”
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gabessquishytum · 4 months
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I’ve got another one!
alright this is me totally projecting here (hearing loss anon what what)
alright so….
human AU Dream does not make conversation, he doesn’t speak to people in crowded or noisy areas, it is very hard for him to keep a conversation if he’s forced to have one, he can’t socialise very well, and occasionally it’s hard for people to understand his speech.
Dream’s hard of hearing. He’s given up on having conversations with people because it’s so hard to hear them. His family won’t help him cause they just think he’s quiet he’s very disconnected from people. He’s never been treated and it’s only gotten progressively worse, it’s also why he got into art and not musical instruments like his other siblings. one day in the art room he hears something. it’s very far away “hi… hello?” It’s probably half way across the room.
“I’m Hob mind if I sit?”
there’s movement in his peripheral. he looks up. a man is smiling down at him. Assumedly the same man who asked him to sit down. he merely nods, no need to make conversation. “I'm new here is this sculpting?”
Shit a question, with missing information ok context clues, he’s never seen him before, probably new and wants to know what class this is. “You are in sculpture,”
“Thanks mate”
this Hob starts starts messing with a mound of clay talking the whole time Dream couldn’t understand him it didn’t matter.
“how’s your day?”
“satisfactory”
“I’m sorry, I asked what your name was?”
Dream blushed, he had fucked up again
“it’s uh Dream,”
“pretty”
dream nodded.
“you don’t talk much do you?”
shit shit shit Damnit fuck shit, Dreams gotta lip read. He looks up at Hob locking eyes with his lips.
dream stares at hob’s lips for a normal amount of time and nods when he thinks is appropriate and hopes Hob doesn’t ask a question it’s all going so well till….
“oh, you can’t hear me,” Hob says in the middle of his sentence so he scoots a little closer and raises his voice a little louder and enunciates more clearly, but not in a patronizing way just so Dream could understand.
“I’m afraid I cannot, how could you tell?” Dream asked.
hob chuckles, “you’re leaning towards me with one ear pointing at me which I’m assuming is your better ear and you’ve been squinting at my lips for the past ten minutes,”
Dream blushes.
“my sister’s deaf I pick up on things,”
so dream and hob keep talking, well hob does most of the talking but dream doesn’t mind, until hob stops.
“I’ll give you a break, you probably got listening fatigue,”
and he was right Dream was beginning to feel the affects of listening fatigue until Hob did something with his hand.
“what was that?”
“sign language, you don’t know sign?”
“no, I make do with what I have,”
“can I teach you?”
Dream of course leans in for a kiss.
“teach dream! Teach!”
they both laugh it off, he does however get that kiss later.
soon dream is proficient in sign language and is good friends with Hob’s sister. He seems happier and more outgoing. and in a couple years down the road…
dream and hob will sign their wedding vows.
-🦎
AHHHHHH HoH Dream!!!!! This is just so wonderful and beautiful and I love it. Obviously hate the idea of Dream not having any means to communicate because no one has helped him learn to sign, but Hob!!!!! Hob’s gonna teach him!!!!!!! AND kiss him.
Not being d/Deaf myself, I won't add too much onto this except to say that I love it, and I know I'm going to be thinking about it for a long time. Especially them signing their wedding vows. Yes!!!! Please!!!!!
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bleucaesura · 14 days
Text
STOLITZØ - SIXTY TWO
The two lay in bed, Stolas cozied up to Blitzø’s side and his head on his chest. Blitzø had his arms wrapped around Stolas, resting his cheek on the top of his head.
They’d both gotten extremely light-headed earlier and begrudgingly decided to “save more for later”. They both hated that their bodies were betraying them, but Stolas had also pointed out that they probably had more to talk about before rushing back into bed with each other again.
Blitzø had grumbled but agreed. Being emotionally communicative sucked sometimes.
Stolas snuggled up under Blitzø’s chin and nuzzled his neck.
“F*ck!” Blitzø palmed Stolas’s face and tried to push him away. “That tickles dammit!”
Stolas chuckled and kissed Blitzø’s palm, making him jerk his hand back and blush.
Stolas smiled up at him.
“Think you’re funny, huh?” Blitzø grinned mischievously and tackled Stolas, attacking him with tickles.
“Blitzø!” Stolas shrieked. He flailed and squawked and tried to curl in a ball to protect himself. “Blitzy! Please!”
Stolas cried from laughter.
“You won’t do it again?” Blitzø continued to tickle him.
“I won’t!” Stolas gasped through his laughter.
“Prooooomise?”
“I promise!”
“Good.” Blitzø stopped and pecked Stolas on the end of the beak with a quick kiss. He smirked down at him, feeling very smug.
Stolas gasped through his panicked laughter and tried to catch his breath.
Blitzø sat back and watched Stolas gather himself. His smile slowly faded.
“Stolas?” Blitzø looked down at his hands.
“Hm?” Stolas smiled up at him.
“Why would you do this to yourself?” Blitzø peeked at him. “Be honest.”
Stolas’s face dropped. He averted his gaze.
Blitzø bristled.
Dammit…
“Asmodeus says you’ve been draining yourself.” Blitzø’s voice was cold. “Don’t you DARE say you’ve been doing it because you love me… Because, I’ll never forgive you…”
Stolas froze. He finally turned and met Blitzø’s eyes. There was so much pain there. He sat up, reached out and took Blitzø’s hands in his.
“I’m sorry. I forgot to do my rituals because I dropped everything to find you when you disappeared. Because I love you. The rituals were the last thing on my mind.”
“Ok… Fine… I can get that I suppose…” Blitzø averted his gaze. “But… The rest?”
Stolas hung his head in shame.
“I couldn’t save you with my power. I was no use to you. I needed to be useful. Somehow. And you weren’t waking up. I was afraid you’d never wake up. I didn’t want to be left behind. I couldn’t be.”
His eyes stung with tears.
“I can’t imagine a world without you in it, Blitzø. I was ready to walk away if that’s what you wanted, but I would have known you were alive and happy. But to exist when you don’t? I… I couldn’t…”
Stolas sniffled.
Blitzø grabbed his face.
“Don’t you EVER f*cking do anything like this again! Do you hear me?”
Stolas stared wide-eyed back at him.
“Don’t you EVER f*cking talk about not existing like it’s no big deal!” Blitzø's voice shook. “It’s a HUGE deal!”
Stolas reached up and held Blitzø’s face affectionately. He smiled meekly.
“It’s a huge f*cking deal…” Blitzø sniffled, fighting back tears.
Stolas kissed Blitzø tenderly, then touched his forehead to his.
“Ok.”
Blitzø pulled him in for another quick kiss.
“…Ok.”
Blitzø rested his head on Stolas’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him and soon after, they’d laid down and fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
*****
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oddballwriter · 7 months
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Stacy's Mom
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Summary: Marc is a single father to a lovely daughter, who has a friend who also has a single parent. He's never actually met Stacy's mom before, but when he finally does, he's taken aback by her.  
Warnings: Single!Dad!Marc and Single!Mom!reader. It's just Marc here, no mention of the system. 
Author’s Snip: I listened to Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne and decided to make this.
Notes: If you guys want I can do a version of this for Steven and Jake. Just give me a prompt to do with them first. 
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Word Count: 1056
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  Rayna had this friend, Stacy. 
  She was a nice girl, don't get it wrong. Marc was glad that his daughter had some friends considering middle school was a tough time for making new friends with the change in schools. And also because as a single, working, dad it gave her something to do. But he would be lying if he said that having two twelve-year-old girls running around his house wasn't a bit of a handful. But Stacy was still a nice guest to have over. 
  He didn't really know much about her home life other than what she'd mentioned on a few occasions. The fact that she was raised by just her mom, you, and that you were a single working woman, often being away on business trips. And that was pretty much it. 
  The only communication Marc ever had with you was a few texts and Stacy herself sending a message on your behalf, like your permission for Stacy to sleep over at him and Rayna's home or for Rayna to spend that night at yours. There was also the fact that your houses were, apparently two blocks down from each other, so Stacy would just walk to and fro.
  It wasn't until one sleep-over that you two would make contact for the first time. 
  Stacy was on the track team at school and had hurt her ankle during practice, making her have to wear a boot brace till it healed. She could still walk on her own, but it wasn't the best idea for her to walk her way from her house to Marc and Rayna's so you drove her there this time before getting ready to head off to another business trip. 
  When Rayna opened the door she greeted Stacy enthusiastically and gave you a nice "Hello to you too, Ms. L/N.". Marc came to the door to originally help with Stacy's bags but he almost froze upon seeing you for the first time. 
  Marc hated that his immediate thoughts were that you had it going on, with your tight-fitted but still professional-looking outfit. You were gorgeous. 
  He managed to get himself back into reality though. Shaking off his awestruck expression and extended his hand for a handshake. "Mr. Spector. I'm Rayna's father." he said. You give him a greeting smile, "Ms. L/N, Stacy's mom." you say shaking Marc's hand. "But you can just call me Y/N." you request. "Then you can call me Marc then." Marc suggested. 
  "I just wanted to thank you for letting Stacy stay over so often. I don't like it when she stays home alone for such a long time when I'm gone." you tell Marc as the girls move to another part of the house. "It's no problem. She's a nice girl and they usually make their own fun without causing too much of a ruckus." Marc assures. "I just feel a bit bad because Stacy said that you're also a single parent and work at the same time." you claim. "Like I said. It's no problem. I'm usually sat at a desk here at home anyways, so I can keep a good eye on them." Marc reassures. 
  Oh god, you’re hot, a businesswoman, and you're nice?
  “Well, thank you so much either way.” you smile. You looked over his shoulder and called out “Bye, hunny. Behave for Mr. Spector and lay off that foot, okay? I’ll see you in a couple of days.”. Stacy turns and says “Wait, Mom! Don’t forget to hire someone to mow the grass.”. A look of revelation comes over your face before you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Now you remind me.” you mutter to yourself. “What’s the hold-up?” Marc asks. 
  “It’s nothing really,” you tell Marc, “It’s just that I’m too busy to mow the lawn and backyard. And Stacy both has her ankle injury and has never worked a lawnmower in her life so we usually have someone else do it.” you explain. “I can do it for you if you’d like.” Marc offers, without really thinking. “Oh, no, Marc. You don’t have to. You’re already doing so much for me.” you fret. “No, no. Really. If you two aren’t able to do it then I’ll gladly do it for you. I’ll bring my own mower, don’t worry.” Marc chuckles, “Matter of fact. Anytime you need your lawn mowed or anything like that, just call me. Alright?” he smiles, doubling up his offer. “Oh alright.” you give in, “But I will find a way to repay you. Mark my words.” you promise as you leave, saying goodbye to Marc and Rayna on the way out.
  The days passed and Marc kept to his word. He drove Stacy home with Rayna tagging along and their lawnmower settled in the back of his truck. Rayna and Stacy continued on like the sleepover wasn’t over and watched things on TV while he worked in the yards still they were all done. When he went back inside to tell Rayna that it was time to head back home, you stopped him for a moment, holding out a tin tray full of freshly baked cookies. He looked up at you with soft eyes, “Ms. L/N. You didn’t have to make me anything. It was no-” Marc tries to say before you cut him off, “I insist, Marc. I have to give you something as a thank you for all that you’ve done for me and Stacy.” you say, placing the tray into his hands. 
  “Tell you what.” Marc says, “Why don’t you and I eat somewhere sometime? To get to know each other better.” he offers, feeling a bit dumb because you’re standing in a nice apron with sweet-smelling perfume and he’s standing there with his forehead glazed with sweat and reeking of cut grass. You blink a shocked expression at him for a moment before a soft blush reaches your face. “You don’t mean that.” you smile timidly. “No. I mean, it would be nice. We could get to know each other better and feel more comfortable with our kids hanging out at each other’s houses.” Marc explained, trying not to sound like some sleazy dad, “Just a quick little lunch. Or Brunch. Or drink. Whichever you like better.” he says. 
  “Lunch would be nice.” you smile. 
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ftmtftm · 4 months
Note
different anon, but I remember being like the transmed and thinking being trans was the worst thing that could never happen to me when I first realized what I was. I made myself miserable trying to convince myself that I wasn’t, that I didn’t want to be, and if I just avoided thinking about it or doing anything about it then I could just keep pretending I was cis forever and no one would be the wiser
however, it was the idea of having to be either binary gender that made me feel dysphoric to the point of spiraling. neither of them made sense to me, I felt like I was entirely without a place in the world, completely illegible.
it was realizing that everyone experiences their gender and presentation differently that finally helped me remember how to breathe.
I really hope transmed anon, once they grow into themselves a bit more and feel a more secure, realizes that trying to insist other people are “being trans wrong” will never make them not miserable, or give them the validation they evidently don’t have within themselves and are seeking externally. other people having different reasons for going on HRT or not starting HRT have nothing to do with them or their own process.
I never understand how those kind of people don’t realize that trying to say “You Must Do X to be Trans” just means they aren’t taking people at their word when it comes to their identity and who they say they are.
as in, the thing that causes us so much pain when cis people do it.
but yknow. it’s sometimes easier to hit the people closest to you when you’re afraid ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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I think you hit the nail on the head with the last sentence of your first ask.
It's sometimes easier to hit the people closest to you when you're afraid.
Because you're absolutely right. Especially when you view those people as lesser than you in response to their proximity to you. It's a way to make yourself feel big. It's a phenomenon that happens with most bigoted / hateful pipelines. You see it in the working class with the poor, you see it in gay spaces with bi people, you see it in conversations about race and blood quantum / mixed racial identity, you see it with people like marginalized Republicans, etc. etc. etc.
It's easy to try and protect yourself by trying to be one of the good ones in whatever way grants you safety and security. But that's not true safety and security, it's just temporary.
Also 100% - suffering isn't moral. We're not Protestants here and also - I'm sure anon has had some shitty experiences with other trans people. I think most of us have because trans people are not a monolithic force and some of us are absolutely going to hurt each other. That doesn't mean the entire community is at fault for those experiences though.
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Note
Hi charm I just one time say you’re one of the sweetest blog ever. Thank you for always taking the time to answer our asks and dms and always providing us with amazing challenges and advice! I used your three day challenge and I am now living my dream life, I am forever greatful 🌤
I used your three day challenge but two day ago something very bad happened and I dmed you. You said you were manifesting something at the time so you’ll just also affirm for me since it wouldn’t take much energy. I got in the void two days later. I don’t even know if you did affirm for me, but I trust you as a blogger and well this is Loa so my assumption hardened to fact and it worked. I came back to say thank you but your dms are now mutuals only so I’m sending this ask instead ❤️
Also I see you’re getting so much hate which is so dumb because if anons were actually nice and not entities they would realize most bloggers don’t mind helping us if we ask nicely. Anons aren’t just mean to you charm theyre cunts to everyone and on behalf of them to all bloggers I apologize! the community truly doesn’t deserve you guys, and you guys help so much with your posts and positivity! You guys also lend us so much of your time which you don’t have to! I know I’m sure not staying on tumblr or making a void blog. I’m gonna be selfish and live my life and anons should be grateful some people choose to stick the hell around for their annoying asses (myself included) LOOOL
Anyways I manifested
-stunning beauty and being skinny
-never gaining weight
-lucky girl syndrome
-wealthy family
-living in the suburbs of New York
-going to private school
-being the it girl
-confidence
-having all As
-never struggling with school
-being an amazing volleyball player
-perfect self concept
-never being afraid to defend people I care about
-bad bitch energy
-simps and admirers
-always receiving money
-master of the void state
I also want to add I had bad circumstances. I was bullied because I was poor&ugly, and I had adhd and anxiety so I struggled in school. That all just made me want it more. If going through that means you get to find the void and live better and easier than those born with the privilege don’t falter and persist. It’s worth, and I’m forever happy and grateful now.
Omgg periodt, I love this for you !! But seriously don’t thank me you had to do all the work I promise, so don’t sell yourself short!! And yes I heavily agree,with your last paragraph! you’re gonna keep living your best life and you deserve it, we all do🫶🫶🫶
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live-laugh-neteyam · 1 year
Note
Hi can I request a Neteyam fic with his female mate where she is feeling so lonely that she has to call him over the communication device he wears just to get a sense and reminder that he is still there but she doesn’t tell him the real reason why she is calling him and makes up some excuse which he sees right through but she hangs up before he ask if she’s okay. He visits her place and she is shocked to see him and he says that i just wanted to make sure you’re okay hugging her and sitting with her waiting for her to tell him what’s been going on? He reassures her by saying don’t worry, i’m staying right here and she says you feel like home to me. She stays cuddled up to him in his strong arms both of them watching the sky falling asleep being comforted from his warmth? Thanks 😊
Home ||| neteyam x omatikaya!reader
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masterlist
pairings: neteyam x omatikaya!fem!reader
summary: there’s no place like home
words: 900
warnings/notes: bullying, reader over thinks, ending is fluffy, use of y/n
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Most days you stuck to yourself. Not the most popular person in the clan, you didn't have many friends. You didn't hold any importance amongst the people. Mostly you just helped out with various tasks that needed to be done. You never understood what Neteyam saw in you.
Today was like any other day. You busied yourself with chores until your mate returned home. Jake kept Neteyam busy with training, they often didn't return home until eclipse. It didn't leave you much time to spend with him.
You missed your mate. Afraid to admit it because you thought you were being foolish; after all, you did see him everyday. But you were lacking the quality time you had become accustomed to.
Sitting by yourself you were practicing your weaving. You wanted to improve not being the best at it.
"She still can't get it right." A voice snickered.
"Does she know how to do anything?" Another voice followed by a laugh.
"No wonder Neteyam is never around."
Looking up you saw a few girls your age huddled in a group. They weren't even trying to hide the fact that they were talking about you. Each comment more hurtful than the last, they glanced at you to see your reaction.
Tears started to sting your eyes. Everyone hated you and you didn't know why. Quickly wiping your face you grabbed your half finished basket and fled. You couldn't stand to hear anything else.
They smirked as they watched you leave. Acting as though they accomplished a mission. Quickly they went back to their conversation waiting for their next victim.
No wonder Neteyam is never around.
The words replayed over and over again in your head. You started to question everything. Had Neteyam grown tired of you? Was he purposely avoiding you and blaming it on training?
You felt like you were going to be sick. Struggling to take in breaths through your cries you felt like something was tightening in on your throat. Reaching up you were met with the communicator Neteyam gave you.
He wanted to make sure you had a way to contact him in case of emergencies. You hardly ever used it, you were too afraid of bothering him while he was busy.
Would Neteyam even pick up if I called? You wondered to yourself.
Your anxious mind had convinced you that your mate no longer cared for you. As you pressed the button to call out you were preparing yourself to be met with silence.
"Neteyam?" You whispered.
One. Two. Three seconds. Your heart was pounding in your chest.
"Hello Ma'Y/N!" The cheery voice of your mate rang through your ears.
Sighing in relief you placed a hand over your uneasy heart. Neteyam was still there. He still cared for you.
"Sorry I accidentally hit the button." You rushed off.
"Is everyth-" he started before you cut the communicator off. You didn't want to bother him with something as silly as this. You had been overreacting.
"Y/N?" He questioned again his brow furrowing.
He couldn't help the nagging feeling in his stomach that something was wrong. The communication device had been disconnected, so you had cut it off or it had been broken.
Anxiety filled him at the thought of you in danger. Without a second thought he picked up his bow ready to rush to your side.
"Where do you think your going boy?" Jake looked his son up and down.
"I'm leaving sir." Neteyam spoke firmly, "Y/N needs me."
Not paying attention to Jake’s protests, Neteyam made his way towards your shared home. “Y/N?” He asked as he poked his head inside. You were nowhere to be found.
Turning around he made his way back into the forest. There was one clearing you always found yourself at to think. Usually if you weren’t home that’s where’d you be.
Neteyam’s heart broke at the sight of you. Legs held firmly against your chest, you looked so small and fragile.
“Ma’Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked before rushing to your side.
Brows furrowing in confusion you looked up at him. “Neteyam what are you doing here?”
“You worried me.” He pulled you into his arms. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Sighing you snuggled into his embrace. You felt foolish for letting the petty words of others get into your head.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” He softly asked.
Taking a deep breath you explained everything that had been going on today. You felt him start to bristle in anger.
“It’s okay Ma’Teyam.” You started. “You’re here now. I’m okay.”
You felt him relax under you. Neteyam pulled you tighter against him. He hated the way others made you question his feelings for you.
“Don’t you have to get back to training?” You asked him.
“Don’t worry about that. I’m staying right here.” He kissed the top of your head.
You stayed cuddled in his arms watching as the stars started to illuminate in the night sky. Your eyes felt heavy as you tried to blink back the sleepiness.
“You feel like home to me Neteyam.” You whispered before sleep overtook you.
“You’re my home too Ma’Y/N.” Neteyam gently kissed your head. Looking up at the stars he sighed in content. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.
Taglist:
@ilovejakesullysdick @fanboyluvr @athenalikethegoddess @loverofallthingsfandom @forasgaard @plzfeedmebread @instabull @ms5m1th @avatarappreciationblog @romimiux @ferrtan @tammitammytime @eternallyvenus @dreamyescapesfromreality @dvxsja @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @mightyneteyam @doggyteam2028 @bananafruityawne @mooniequeen @shayligames-blog
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nateezfics · 7 months
Note
Okay okay so...how about prompts 2 and 57 with Hongjoong??😵‍💫
2 — “i’m not sharing you with anybody. you’re mine, and mine only, and i’m going to make you remember that.”
57 — “look at your reflection. look at how gorgeous you are. so fucking gorgeous when i’m fucking you like this. so pretty for me, and only for me.”
smut/nsfw; public sex; mdni
hongjoong trusted you, fully and completely. he knew you loved him and only harbored affection for him and him alone. he knew this. he did. so why did it bother him so much to see san flirting with you?
he always hated these charity banquets. not because he didn’t want to be charitable, quite the opposite. he loved using his company’s resources to help good causes, loved teaming up with other lenders in the city and connecting with the community. he hated them because of the crowds, the small talk, and because of the way everyone always adored you so much, leading him with little to no time with you. and san, his trusty cfo and right hand man, was amongst your admirers.
hongjoong knew san wouldn’t cross the line, but he certainly wasn’t afraid to push the boundaries and test hongjoong’s patience. hongjoong watched the two of you from his periphery while maintaining chit chat with one of his company’s major investors, and long standing sponsor of the charity banquet. possessiveness, while as irrational as it was, crawled underneath hongjoong’s skin, urging him to interrupt the man before him and push himself between you and san. the need to claim you was overwhelming as he caught the way you laughed at something san said, and the way the cfo moved just a bit too close to you.
hongjoong took the first exit out of this bland conversation he could, excusing himself and beelining it to where you stood. his hand reached out to press into the small of your back once he was close enough, and there was a feeling of satisfaction when he noticed the way your skin erupted with goosebumps. “i hate to interrupt,” he spoke, eyes shooting to san. “but i need to borrow my fiancé for a moment.”
there was a slight edge to the way he pronounced fiancé, and hongjoong was sure san picked up on it, judging by the man’s small smirk. san nodded once. “by all means,” san turned to look at you, offering you a wink, something he knew would get under his ceo’s skin. “it was great talking with you, y/n.”
you were whisked away before you could say farewell. so much happened in a blur, and soon you found yourself bent over in the bathroom. “hongjoong…” you moaned as quietly as you could muster while his hips pistoned into your rear. your body was arched from the way his cock hit your sweet spot, your hands around his wrists to keep yourself from tumbling forward.
hongjoong grunted. hearing you moan his name only fed his possessiveness; it was his name you were moaning, and not anyone else’s. only he was making you feel this good. “i’m not sharing you with anybody. you’re mine, and mine only, and i’m going to make you remember that.”
you would’ve never forgotten that. you only wanted him and him alone, and you both knew that you only desired each other. but you loved to be reminded anyway. always loved the way he claimed you.
you met his eyes in the bathroom mirror. the sight of the two of you was almost enough to make you fall apart. hongjoong smirked. “look at your reflection. look at how gorgeous you are. so fucking gorgeous when i’m fucking you like this. so pretty for me, and only for me.”
idk how this morphed into a ceo au but i’m not complaining;; and i didn’t mean for this to be this long. oops. possessive hong is just so hot :’))
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baby-yongbok · 6 months
Text
Poetry
Chapter Six - Mr.H
Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff with a swirl of angst
Summary: The night that you see Hyunjin again after your date is full of surprises. You can keep your cool but can he?
Word Count: 5,407
A/N: Things are happening, ya'll. I'm so excited to be back in Fan Fiction land <3 + If you haven't already, I highly recommend reading the previous parts before this one so that you get the ✨full experience✨. See you next Thursday at 6 💕
Part Five
✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧
✧Main Masterlist✧
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There wasn’t a moment of silence after Hyunjin left, you spent the entirety of your breakfast answering questions while giving Changbin and Serena as many details as you could before you had to leave for work. You will admit that you appreciate how involved your friends are, especially Changbin. You were almost afraid that he was going to go full big brother mode and quiz Hyunjin the moment that he met him but he actually kept his cool, let’s see how it goes next time. 
Speaking of next time, you haven’t seen Hyunjin since your date. The two of you have been texting nonstop and you even spoke on the phone two days ago but neither of you have brought up a plan to meet. He canceled your meetup this week because he had to help his roommate Felix with something upstate. You weren’t mad about it though, you took the free time as an opportunity to look into a new hobby. 
You have a bit of a tradition that you started during your second year of university, every autumn you look into building a new skill or taking up a new hobby. You weren’t sure what to get into this year until you saw a flier on your way to work yesterday. Apparently your local community center has a photography club that meets on Fridays where you’re taught everything that you need to know by a professional. There’s no way that you could turn a blind eye to such a wonderful free opportunity. So here you are, walking through the large glass doors and into the quiet lobby. Your brand new Canon camera is placed safely in its case hanging from your shoulder and your tote bag is hanging from the other. You looked up at the digital board by the reception desk to look for the room number for your class. Once you found it you made your way down the hall, humming a smooth tune to try and calm your nerves. You were more than excited but you were almost positive that the club would be filled with experienced photographers looking for community and you are far from experienced.
The door to the room is already open when you reach the room and there are a few people in there talking amongst themselves and fiddling with their cameras. You enter quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself but that fails once you get half way into the room. The group swiftly looks up at you, each one of them studying your frame with furrowed brows and that’s when you notice the elephant in the room… they’re all teenagers.
“Hi, you must be new.” One of the girls breaks the silence. “I’m Mia.”
“Hi, I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You move to sit by the window, right in the middle of the row. You never liked being too far from the instructor but you also hate being in the front. 
“I’m James and this is Olivia, she’s a bit shy.” One of the boys sitting against the wall introduces himself and the girl sitting on his lap. Olivia offers a timid wave before looking back down at her camera. You smile, waving back at her. 
“Leo, stop being rude. Say hi to the new girl.” Mia pushes the boy sitting in front of her and he curses at her quietly before turning to you and waving passive aggressively. You wave back silently as you try to hold back a chuckle.
“Leo is an asshole, don’t mind him.” Mia explains before glancing down at her phone. 
“Two minutes until Mr.H gets here.” James nods his head, only half paying attention as he looks past Mia and over to you, clearly itching to ask you a question.
“Am I crazy or are you the oldest one here?”
“Oh my god, what the hell, James.” Mia’s exasperated voice echoes through the room followed by Oliva’s laugh. 
“It’s an observation, fucking shoot me.” You chuckle a bit, nodding your head. 
“You’re not crazy, I’m probably about seven years older than you guys.” 
“Oh you’re about the same age as Mr.H” You pinch your brows together softly, you didn’t expect the teacher to be around your age. “Maybe we can hook you two up, he desperately needs a girlfriend.”
“What are you going on about, James?” You shift your attention towards the person speaking, that voice sounds so familiar and you realize why as soon as your eyes land on his figure coming through the door. Hyunjin is the teacher?
“I’m just trying to get you a girlfriend, Mr.H” You watch as Hyunjin walks over to the desk at the front of the classroom, he hasn’t looked up from the packet in his hands since he came through the door. You take a moment to admire him, he doesn’t look as dressed up as he usually does, he looks relaxed and cozy. You could get used to this look. 
“Why don’t you worry about perfecting your depth of field instead. You’re not here to get me a girlfriend.” Hyunjin smiles to himself as he leans against the desk, still focused on the paper in front of him. The others in the room immediately start laughing and making fun of James. 
“That’s what you get.” Mia laughs as she moves from sitting on top of the desk.
“Whatever, Y/n is way too pretty for you anyway.” You cover your mouth as you try to stifle a laugh. Hyunjin immediately looks up at the sound of your name, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Excuse me?” Hyunjin asks before turning his head in your direction. He freezes for a second, his eyes glossing over your frame slowly to make sure that it’s really you. 
“Oh um you must be new.” He stands, pushing a hand into the pocket of his worn denim jeans and making his way over to you. 
“Yeah I am.” You grin, playing along with him. Once he reaches you he offers you his hand and you immediately take it into your own. 
“I’m the photography instructor for this program, you can call me Hyunjin.” He smirks down at you and you nod your head. 
“I’m Y/n.” He gives your hand a light squeeze before dropping it. 
“It’s a pleasure to have you in our club.” He winks at you before turning on his heels and stalking back over to his desk.
“Why can she call you Hyunjin but we can’t?” Mia whines, earning a dramatic eye roll from Hyunjin.
“Because I’m eight years older than you.” You chuckle lightly and Hyunjin smiles at the sound.
“How do you know that she’s your age?” James argues and Hyunjin shrugs. 
“Are you guys here to question me or to actually learn something?” The group of teens sigh as Hyunjin starts looking through his bag. “I made a project sheet for today but I suppose I can save that for next week now that we have a new member. Let’s focus on questions and practice for today.”
He pulls a thick folder out of his bag and places it on the desk right next to his massive Sony DSLR camera. You feel a bit intimidated by this side of Hyunjin, he seems to be very in his element here. Maybe he’s been doing this for a while.
“Can we do an object project?” Olivia asks in a soft voice, catching Hyunjin’s attention.
“I like that idea, what do you guys want to shoot today?” You can’t help but stare as Hyunjin talks to the kids, he seems to have a pretty solid relationship with them. You stare down at his Versace bracelet on your wrist as you listen to him talk to the kids. 
“Alright so that’s what it’ll be, four photo’s of your favorite place to be in this community center. It can be a place that you have a positive memory of or just a place where you feel the most comfortable. Today's object is a clock, if you don’t have a clock in the shot then it doesn’t count. Get creative, there are no limits. I want two black and white photos and two sepia.” The kids all stand from their seats, pulling their camera straps around their necks and talking about where to go.
“Be back here in forty-five minutes. I will set a timer, please don’t make me come find you.” The group mumbles a half hearted ‘okay’ before turning their attention back to their previous conversation. You take this time to unpack your own camera, turning it on and flipping through the settings. You made sure to watch a couple of videos before coming here but everything that you learned went right out the window once you saw Hyunjin. 
“I’ll be right with you, Y/n.” Hyunjin smiles over at you before turning his attention towards Leo. He’s been so quiet that you forgot that he was there. Hyunjin kneels in front of the boy's desk, leaning into his space a bit before whispering. You decided to look away to give them some privacy. Maybe you can manage to google some quick photography tips before he turns his attention to you.
You start looking up photography quick guides on your phone as you wait for him. You get so engulfed in the article that you’re reading that you don’t even notice Hyunjin making his way over to you until he’s sitting at the desk in front of yours. You jump a bit, locking your phone quickly.  
“Well this is a pleasant surprise.” He smiles as he leans back against the wall behind him. “You missed me so much that you tracked me down?” 
You chuckle, a light blush creeping up your neck. You look over towards where the kids were earlier and notice that they’re all gone. You must’ve been so distracted by your research that you didn’t hear them leave.
“What if I did?” You tease and now it was his turn to blush. “I didn’t know that you’re into photography.”
“Surprise.” You roll your eyes at him and he smiles towards you. “I may be a little into it. I’ve been doing it for about five years, nothing too major.”
“Clearly it is pretty major if you’re certified to teach people.”
“Are you impressed by that? Because if you are then I’ll agree.” You scoff, pushing his arm playfully. 
“No comment.” 
“That means that you are impressed.”
“Are you going to flirt with me or are you going to teach me how to work this thing?” You ask, holding your camera up in front of you while smiling towards Hyunjin. He surrenders, shaking his head and taking your camera from you.
“You’re right.” He turns your camera on, studying the settings and adjusting things the way that he sees fit. You can’t help but blush a bit as his fingers press the buttons. His gaze turned from playful to focused and serious as soon as you placed the device in his hands. The way that he operates the camera is actually pretty attractive. 
Your eyes widen a bit as you realize the nature of your thoughts. This is not the time to think about all of the things that you find attractive about your boyfriend,wait, he’s not your boyfriend. Not really, not officially, he hasn’t even asked you out for a second date yet. 
“Alright, so, this camera is actually pretty simple. I’ve adjusted some settings, I’ll show you what they all do and we can get you started on practicing the rule of thirds, sound good?” Hyunjins voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you sit up straighter in your seat. You clear your throat and look up at him as he watches you, his eyes wandering over the exposed skin of your neck for a second before looking up at you. 
“Sounds good, Mr.H.” 
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“How’s this one?” You ask while looking down at your camera screen to study the photo you just took. Hyunjin steps closer to you from behind, looking over your shoulder to get a look at the photo too. 
“Perfect, I think that you should be fine without the grid now. Maybe practice eyeing it yourself throughout the week and I can check it for you when we meet next Friday.” You chuckle, turning your head to face Hyunjin and he furrows his brows in confusion. “What?”
“Couldn’t you just check it when I see you next Thursday?” He grins at you, shaking his head and tonguing his cheek.
“Nope, I’m gonna treat you just like everyone else in the club.” You narrow your eyes at him, glancing down at the tiny space between the two of you. 
“Like you are right now?” Hyunjin looks down at his hand on the small of your back and pulls his lips into a thin line.
“You’re right, Y/n this is highly unprofessional. I really need you to keep your hands to yourself.” Hyunjins eyes morph into cresents as you push him away from you, scoffing playfully.
“I hate you.” You make your way back over to your desk and Hyunjin walks over to his at the front of the room.
“Are you sure about that?” He pulls himself up onto the desk, sitting and leaning back on his palms. A deep blush runs over your cheeks as he stares over at you with an equanimous smirk adorning his lips. You look down, avoiding his piercing eye contact and now it was his turn to chuckle. “The kids should be back in a second.”
Just as he looks down at his phone the timer that he set earlier goes off. You look over at the door expecting to see them walk through but no one is there. Hyunjin closes his eyes, tilting his head back towards the ceiling and humming softly. Your eyes pinch together in confusion, is he not going to go get them? 
“Are you sure they’re coming back?” Hyunjin hums in response, a small smile pulling at his lips before he starts counting.
“5, 4, 3, 2” He points towards the open door and you can hear the loud pitter patter of the group racing down the hallway. “They’re always two minutes late.” 
“We’re here!” Olivia makes it into the room first, panting as she makes her way over to her seat. The rest of the group follows behind her, trying to catch their breath as they sit. 
“Once you all remember how to breathe we’ll get started.” Hyunjin teases, lifting his head to look at the group. You can’t help but smile, something about seeing him interact with them makes you feel warm. He's a natural leader, in the way that he carries himself, the way he talks to them. He radiates a sense of comfort and confidence in this space and it’s almost rewarding to see. 
“Can I go first?” Mia asks as she stares down at her camera.
“Nope.” Hyunjin quips quickly.
“Why not.” She whines and Hyunjin offers an exaggerated sigh in response. “I want to get it over with, Mr.H”
“And that’s why you’ll be going last.” Mia groans, putting her head down on the desk and stomping her feet. Hyunjin immediately imitates her, kicking his feet against his desk and whining. The rest of the group laughs, you even hear a faint chuckle coming from Mia. 
“Always remember that I'm ten times more dramatic than you.” Hyunjin teases before sitting up completely. “Alright, let’s do this. Show me what you got James.”
“I think that Olivia wants to go before me.” James sinks down into his seat as he tries to dodge a hit from the girl behind him.
“You threw your own girlfriend under the bus? That’s cold.”
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You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t impressed. Each of the kids in this club are amazing at photography, if you saw any of the pictures that they took online you’d think that a twenty year professional was responsible for the art. You’re equally impressed by Hyunjin’s teaching skills, he answered all of their questions flawlessly and made sure that you were still engaged even though you didn’t participate in the activity. 
Once class ended Hyunjin texted you offering to walk you home, of course you said yes, you actually did miss him so you couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Your house was only four blocks from the community center but it seemed a lot longer since the city blocks are massive. Usually this would bother you, you’d put some music on and try your best to get the walk over with but you found yourself settling into a comfortable stroll with Hyunjin. You weren’t in a rush to get anywhere, you were grounded, living in the moment.
“How did you start teaching photography?” You asked as the two of you waited to cross the street. 
“My mentor set it up for me, he thought that it would be a good way to redirect my emotions.” He chuckles softly, taking a step forward to guide you across the street. “I told you that I was a bad kid but I didn’t really stop getting into trouble until I turned twenty. I met my mentor's son, Chan, a couple of weeks after my birthday when I was taking pictures of Felix for his portfolio. His dad is a photographer and he took interest in me almost instantly, he taught me some stuff and basically became a father to me. He started the club on my birthday last year when he retired from the community center.” 
“So you replaced him?” You look over at Hyunjin who seems to be deep in thought.
“Something like that, I’m one of the youth counselors but he was in charge of it all. People treat me like I’m in charge for some reason. It’s probably because I’m so smart and handsome.” He sighs dramatically, pushing his hands into his pockets and shaking his head. “It just isn’t fair, it’s so hard being me.”
“Oh yeah, it’s super hard being a model for luxury brands.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at him and bumping him with your shoulder. “I would hate being a role model for the youth.”
“Hey, this is hard work.” He defends as the two of you stop at the next corner. “But, on a serious note, I do enjoy working with them. I teach two more classes throughout the week and it’s probably what saved my life. Now, I get to help save theirs. Every kid that I teach has gotten into some kind of trouble. I like offering them a space to be themselves and learn something new, I like creating the space that I wish that I had when I was their age.” 
You stare over at the crossing light as Hyunjin opens up a bit. It’s so hard for you to imagine the sweet, soft guy standing next to you as an angry teenager fighting everything that looked in his direction. You can’t help but to feel proud of him, he seemed to have really turned himself around for the better. It takes a lot of discipline to correct bad habits. 
You keep your eyes trained on the light in front of you, waiting for it to change. Just as it turns green you reach your hand over towards Hyunjins, interlocking your fingers and offering a reassuring squeeze. He keeps his gaze forward as you two cross the street silently but the smile on his face and the blush on his cheeks speak a thousand words. He squeezes your hand back, running his thumb along the back of your hand as you reach the next block. He doesn’t need you to say anything back, your actions speak louder than any sentence you could possibly speak. 
“On a different note…” He looks over at you with a grin. “What did you tell your friends about me?”
“I am not answering that.” You start to pull away from him but he pulls you into his side, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulder.
“Let me guess, you told them that I’m the best kisser in the entire world and that I’m so amazing and funny and that you can’t get enough of me.” A goofy smile adorns his lips and you sigh, covering your face to hide your blush. “Aw, she’s shy.”
Before you can protest, your phone starts ringing in your bag and you take this opportunity to escape Hyunjins teasing. Thank god for Changbin.
“Hey, what’s up.” You laugh a bit as Hyunjin presses you into his side more. 
“Hey, are you with someone?” You can hear the smile in Changbin’s voice.
“Yup, coming home now.”
“Ah, good, could you do me a favor? I forgot to grab popcorn on the way home. Serena is coming over to watch a movie and that’s the only thing that I don’t have.” You nod, looking up the block and spotting a store on the corner. 
“I’ll grab it for you, I’m walking up to a store now.”
“You’re a lifesaver. I’ll see you soon. Oh, and tell Hyunjin that I said hi.” He sings the last part of his sentence before you say bye and hang up. He’s definitely going to question you as soon as you walk through the door. 
“Everything alright?” 
“Yup, I just need to go into this store.” You lock your phone and slip it back into your bag as you walk up to the store. “And Changbin says hi.”
There’s a group of guys outside of the store but you don’t pay them any mind, Hyunjin follows you closely as you pull away from him to enter the store, you’ve been to this shop a million times so you know where everything is. You make a beeline to the popcorn and make your way over to the counter. The cashier smiles at you as you approach, making small talk as he checks you out. Once you’re done you turn to Hyunjin who’s waiting for you at the door but his demeanor seems to have changed. His arms are crossed over his chest and he has a mean look on his face. You smile over at him as you start to leave the store but he doesn’t smile back, that’s odd. He opens the door for you and you take the lead exiting first and tucking the popcorn into your tote bag. 
“Excuse me, you’re looking really good tonight.” One of the guys standing outside of the store steps over to you and you flash him a small smile.
“Thanks.” You start to walk away but he speaks up again, stepping a bit closer to you.
“Can I have your number? I could take you out.” You shake your head, replying with a firm ‘No’ before starting to walk away again. Hyunjin places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you away from the group. 
“Come on, don’t be like that.” 
“She said no.” Hyunjin speaks up, his voice is loud and flat. You’ve never heard him use this tone before. It’s almost scary. The two of you start walking away again, Hyunjin makes sure to keep you in front of him as the two of you make your way towards the corner.
“I wasn’t fucking talking to you.” The guy follows the two of you. Picking up the pace as the two of you get further from him. “Come on, let me take you out sometime.”
“Keep walking.” Hyunjin whispers to you, pushing you forward a bit. He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to face the guy following you. You can’t help but to look back as you walk away slowly, you can’t just leave him there by himself. Neither of you know what that guy is capable of. 
“Do we have a problem?”
~ Hyunjin’s POV ~
I’m using every ounce of my self control to keep my temper in check right now. If this guy decided to mess with me while I was alone that would be a different story but he’s messing with someone that I care about and I don’t like that. This has always been a trigger for me, Felix always says that I get scary when I get mad protecting someone else. I really don’t want that to happen right now, I don’t want her to see that side of me but this guy is making it very hard to hold back. 
“How about you mind your business.” He yells in my face, his breath reeks heavy of alcohol, that’s not even fair. If I hit him he’s going to be knocked out almost instantly, drunk people can never take a hit. 
“She is my business.” I cross my arms over my chest and clench my jaw. I have to remember that she’s here. I have to keep my cool. “She said no, leave her alone.”
“Ah, I see, she’s yours. Is that it? That’s your bitch?” I bite my bottom lip between my teeth as his last question rings through my ears. Don’t react, not while she’s here. “She likes pretty boys, huh?”
I look back at Y/n, she’s stopped at the corner watching me. I take a deep breath and uncross my arms, turning back around to the idiot in front of me.
“Leave her alone, alright?” I turn to walk away, trying my best to distance myself from him.
“Is this your boyfriend?” He yells over at Y/n but that’s not the only thing that makes me snap. He touched me, he pushed my shoulder as I was turning away and I felt my blood boil instantly. I don’t even remember what I did, my body went into autopilot. I can hear Y/n’s heavy footsteps as I stand over the disoriented stranger. My hand in a fist at my side, I’m shaking, why am I shaking? I haven’t felt this mad in years, I haven’t hit somebody in years, this isn’t how that was supposed to happen. I was supposed to keep my cool, why did he have to fuck it up? The more that reality sinks in, the more angry I get. 
“What did I just fucking tell you?” I don’t raise my voice, I never raise my voice, there’s no need to. I bend down, making sure to keep eye contact with him as I grab his shirt, and pull him towards me. “Leave her alone.”
I can hear myself, I can hear the hiss in my tone. I can feel the anger getting to my head, I can feel myself losing to it. That’s my problem, I don’t know when to stop, once I get started it’s hell getting out of it. 
“You should’ve listened.” I don’t want to hit him again but I feel like I need to, I need to get this feeling to go away and the only way that I know how is to keep going. 
“I’m sorry, man.” He pleads, I knew that he wouldn’t be able to take the hit but that just makes it easier for me. I push him back onto the sidewalk, letting go of his shirt and raise my fist almost by instinct. Before I can lower it I feel a hand wrap around my wrist, I stop for just a second as I remember who this is about. Y/n is with me, she saw everything. 
“Hyunjin, get up.” Her voice is firm but somehow soft, I wish that I could just listen to her. I want to listen to her, maybe I can?
 Despite my desire to stop, I don't move. My brain and my body are doing two different things and for a moment I feel guilty. This is going to be how it ends isn’t it? She’s going to think that I’m a horrible person, she’s going to hate me for putting her through this. My jaw clenches at the thought of losing her, glancing back down at the man in front of me I feel anger climbing up my spine again. Why couldn’t he just walk away?
“I told him to leave you alone.” I meant for my words to come out softer than they did but I can still hear the hiss in my voice, it’s muffled by the sound of my heart beating in my ears but I can hear it. She steps in between us, trying her best to pull me back, her grip tight and her voice stern. 
“Hyunjin, please get up.” In all of the years that I got into fights there has never been a person who could calm me down. I don’t know why it’s different with her, I don’t know why but I don't resist. I allow her to lower my fist, I allow her to stand between us and guide me to my feet. 
“Hey, look at me.” I listen, taking a deep breath and turning my attention towards her. I expected her to look angry, I expected her to have tears in her eyes or maybe even look scared. My mom would always be angry, Felix would always look scared but she looks calm. How could she look at me like that after this? I don’t deserve that.
“Good, you’re fine. Everything is fine, come on.” Her hands run over my forearms, as she tries her best to ground me and by some miracle it’s working. 
She takes both of my hands and starts to lead me away from him, I keep my eyes on her as we walk over to the corner. I try my best to calm myself down, taking deep breaths through my nose and going through every grounding exercise that I was ever taught. For some reason those techniques aren’t what help me the most, it’s the look in her eyes that's calming me down. It’s the relaxed tone of her voice and the way that she’s guiding me. No one’s ever done this before. I can feel the anger in my body being replaced, it’s that feeling of electricity. That feeling that I only get when I’m with her. 
I’m not sure how long we’ve been walking but when I finally come out of my thoughts and look back I don’t see the guy anymore. In fact, I’m pretty sure that we passed her block. We come up on a busier street, nothing too serious just a couple of people going about their night. She guides me over to a bench at the bus stop and we both sit in silence. I close my eyes, running my hands through my hair and sighing heavily. 
“Let me see your hand.” Her tone is sweet like she isn’t about to check me for bruises. She reaches for my hand, running her thumb across the back of it and I hiss in pain. That’s definitely going to be a different color tomorrow. “You’re gonna need to ice that.”
“I know the drill.” I reply in a flat whisper. “I’m sorry.”
“He deserved it.” I shake my head, turning to look at her and this time I really looked at her. I let her see the worry in my gaze, I let her see the fear that has bloomed in my stomach. 
“I’m not sorry for hitting him. I’m sorry that I almost didn’t stop, I didn’t want to stop and if you weren’t there I wouldn’t have. I would have done everything that I could to make sure that he ended up in the hospital.” I allow my gaze to drift down to my hands and it’s only then that I realize that I’m shaking. I’m still shaking, it must be the fear, not the anger.
“But you didn’t.” Her hand rests over my trembling one, petting my skin softly with the pads of her fingers. I let out a shaky exhale at the feeling of her skin against mine. “I told you that I’d be there to calm you down. I told you that it would be alright if I saw you like that and I meant it.”
“You don’t hate me?” My words leave my mouth in a whisper as I bite my bottom lip. Reluctantly, I look up at her, her expression is still so soft and calm. 
“Not one bit.”
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One thing I deeply love about Henry’s character than it’s not often acknowledged in the fandom is how he’s unapologetically gay, and his journey to become unapologetically gay.
We know Henry has been aware of his sexuality since young, than unlike Alex, it wasn’t something he didn’t acknowledge/repress. Henry (quoting Casey) “was born awake”, had no queer awakening. We know it was not something he was proud of when he was younger, he believed it was “the most unforgivable thing about me.”
And yet, he spends his time learning queer history and reading queer literature. He spends the book in the closet, believing he will never come out, that maybe he shouldn’t come out. And he finished the book out, running a shelter for lgbt teens. Do you guys understand that? This is someone who went from being locked away and not even looking for the key to someone who decides enough is enough, and is tired of faking. He becomes some kind of icon for queer teenagers, someone they can look up to, someone who understands. Henry and Pez start a shelter, and they became the queer elders they once needed in their life.
Henry is proud of being gay. Henry doesn’t want to hide, Henry is incredibly passionate about his history and those who came before him, Henry will remember them, they won’t be forgotten, not if he’s here. This is someone who grew up on a homophobic environment (not necessarily because of homophobic parents, but monarchy isn’t exactly known for it’s acceptance and diversity), who felt bad about being gay for so long, who was made believe that being in the closet was good, that he couldn’t come out, than he shouldn’t, that it would be best for everybody if nobody knew. That he should be hidden away, that no one could know, it was shameful, unnatural. And on top of it all, being a prince means responsibility and the weight of a country on your shoulders, it means cameras following you around, having a whole nation judging what you’re wearing today. The hiding was constant, his defenses were always up. Could he tell this person? Could he be sure they wouldn’t leak it to the press?
Henry never experienced community. How could he, when he spent all his life either hiding or being hidden away? Yet he wants to. He longs for it so much. He reads about queer history and wonders how it must have been like, to be at the front of a protest, and know those behind are with you, are like you, and for once, look into the eyes of a police officer and not feel afraid. How it must have been like to go to a parade, would his throat feel tight, would he choke back tears? Or would he smile, feeling at peace? No idea, and it’s not like he could ever discover, right? The only thing he had always longed for the most, the feeling of community, of acceptance, is the thing most out of his reach there is. The one thing he cannot buy, cannot get.
He believed himself “a problem that deserved to stay hidden, never quite trusted myself or what I wanted”. Not only for his sexuality, for himself as a person, but being gay also played a role, of course it did. He never trusted what he wanted, why would he, when what he wants is shameful and forbidden. Being gay was never an option. First, being gay was unfathomable, something that made him different, shameful. Something his classmates joked and laughed about, about those people. Then, being gay was a thing brave, normal people were. The ones at the head of the protests, the ones marrying each other, the ones writing books, those were not princes. Even after learning his history, and that people like him have always been there, he’s still not allowed. Perhaps he would be, if only he had been born in another family, but he hasn’t, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Being gay was something brave people are, people who stand in the front, who aren’t afraid to look at hate in the eye, those who run away to be themselves, not caring the difficulties they might face on the way, those who hold hands and link arms and rest heads on each other’s shoulders, who found a community, who found people like them, and who aren’t letting go, who are protecting each other. And Henry, Henry was a coward. Would he be able to do that, to return home with a bloody nose and a broken arm, and still find the courage to wake up the next morning and know to have been in the right? To not regret it? Would Henry have accepted the fight, stood in the front of a revolution, or would he have hidden away, and watched from the sidelines?
Henry is proven wrong about being a coward, he’s brave, so brave, but he doesn’t see it.
Through the book, Henry begins to hope, to want to come out. Begins trusting himself, believing in himself. He stands up for himself, he won’t be locked away anymore, he will find a key, or he will make it himself.
Henry goes from someone hidden away to someone proud, unapologetic, and free.
Henry is unapologetically gay, and it took some time to get there, but he is, and he’s now helping other people on their journey to pride.
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shawnxstyles · 2 years
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her alert!
DATE: OCTOBER 11, 2022
summary: y/n finally notices peter after all this time in english class.
requested: yess
song: Nervous- shawn mendes :)
words: 1.9k
warnings: implications of sex and a nervous peter
note: part three is here!
not my gif!
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“since i’m a man now, i think we should go. the three of us,” peter rolls his eyes and lays his head on his locker as ned rants on and on. ned believes that he is suddenly a man now because he’s dating betty, the school’s news reporter. he’s been begging peter to go hang out with them in a cabin. even just for a night.
it’s been three weeks of this.
“ned, i don’t want to third wheel. why do you want me to come with you guys so bad?” peter grips the straps of his backpack, waiting for a response.
“because you’ve been pretty out of it, peter. look, i know you still have a thing for y/n, but it’s never going to happen if you don’t talk to her. i want you to come, so you can get away for a while,” ned raises his eyebrows a bit and shuts his locker after grabbing his textbook. peter softens from ned’s concerns and inhales a stressed breath.
“i’m fine, i’m staying here.”
“okay then you have to talk to y/n. either you come or you talk to her. you choose,” ned states as the bell rings. his eyebrows raise again as he spins away, meaning betty halfway through the hallway.
if peter were meant to talk to you then it would just happen, right?
peter rushes to grab his english notebook and slams his locker closed, rushing to his next period. this is his favorite period, did he mention why? because you’re there. anywhere you are is his favorite place.
gosh, that sounds more stalker-ish than he thought.
when the final bell rings, peter sits in his usual seat, right in the front of the class. the teacher begins to explain a project that consists of a presentation about any of the historical events that were related to To Kill A Mocking Bird. reading that book was a part of the summer homework, which about half the class didn’t complete. right as she’s finishing the directions, you rush through the door.
“sorry! sorry, i’m late. i… yeah,” y/n shuffles toward the back of the class, breathing unsteady. your hair was a bit messy and one shoe was untied. this was one of those days where you didn’t dress like you were going to an award show but like you were a normal teenager. peter found it adorable and hot that you could rock both styles. not to be blunt or anything, but it was pretty obvious what you were doing. everyone could have probably guessed.
“well… i must say one more thing before i let you all get to work,” the teacher starts as she peers the classroom. “this is a group project. minimum of two people, maximum of four. if you have any questions or concerns, please don’t be afraid to ask. or do. get to work.”
peter sat in his own concern with a half-raised hand in the air. he put his hand down and frowned. to be clear, peter despised group work. he didn’t have many friends (besides ned and maybe betty), so finding people to work with was always a struggle. even if he was forcefully paired with someone, he ended up doing most of the work without being asked. he didn’t have the best communication skills and had much social anxiety. he was an anti-social nerd. he fulfilled the stereotype perfectly.
except for the part where he saves lives on the side now.
yeah, he’s still getting used to that.
but that’s spiderman, not peter parker. spiderman could probably do this assignment, no problem. but peter? he hated it. with that, he’s going to ask his teacher if he could do a solo project. without noticing, you and peter both approach her desk at the same time. she looks up from her stack of papers.
“well, this an interesting pair,” she states, resting her papers flat on the wooden table.
“i—”
“oh no, we’re not um—”
“we’re not together,” you both say at the same time. peter bites his lip to stop talking completely. he feels the heat of embarrassment bubble under his skin and rush to his face. you two have never stood so close together. peter’s heart was beginning to race and he tried his best to breathe without making it obvious that he was seriously freaking out.
“oh, okay then. so what are your questions?”
“well i—”
“i was wondering—”
you both tell each other you can go, which makes peter even more red. you chuckle an awkward laugh as you stuff your hands in your jean pockets.
“can i do the project alone? i think it’s better that way for me,” peter blurts out to his teacher, still flushed, but for a different reason now. it’s embarrassing that he is umcomfortable doing the project with his peers because he’s shy and awkward.
“but peter, it’s a group project. that’s a direction. i can’t change that for you because then—”
“you would have to change it for everyone else, right? well speaking of directions and partners, i don’t have either. so can you please explain the directions of the project? just real quick,” you interrupt the teacher while asking your question and with a smile that screams pretty please?. peter’s heart is about to burst like a firework.
“i have an idea. why don’t you two actually work together? peter will explain all of the directions to you and then you will have her as your partner. i think that would be good. for both of you,” the teacher smiles as she folds her hands over her stack, eyes switching from either student. “that’s a new rule. you two must work together.”
peter both nods forcefully, as you slouch and walk to your desk. peter grabs his stuff as he walks to the back of the class, following you. his breathing was unsteady and his heart was beating louder than full volume music at a house party.
do his powers intensify this stuff? he feels like his heart is a ticking grenade.
he remembers back to the hallway when ned was giving him an ultimatum. he really didn’t want to be a third wheel. and here you were, partnering with him for a stupid english project. now, all he has to do is talk to you.
if peter were meant to talk to you then it would just happen, right?
he recalled his earlier thoughts. he didn’t know whether this was a sign from heaven or hell. they both made him incredibly anxious.
“that was something,” you start as you sit next to peter, closer than when you were standing next to each other.
“yeah, she’s like that sometimes. um, so did you want me to tell you about the project?” peter stuttered, but at least he said words. and they were to you. he can’t get in his head now.
peter explained the project without too much stuttering or mumbling. your eyes were focused on his words (is what peter told himself and not his lips) the whole time and he didn’t even falter (that bad at least). once he was finished, he waited for you to admit your understanding or confusion.
“okay, i think i got it, but that was a lot. i’m more of a step-by-step person. can we do that?” you questioned, lifting your untied shoe on the chair to finally tie it.
“uh yeah, sure that’s fine. great. so i was thinking we can do the—”
“so what’s your story? like what’s your deal?” you interrupted, with your hand under your chin in interest. your eyes seemed to sparkle even under the shitty school ceiling lights.
“what do you mean?” peter was caught off-guard by your sudden question. he didn’t usually get personal questions from anyone besides ned unless they were somehow related to his smarts or school.
“you know, how are you here? shouldn’t you be at some superficial, pretentious, high tech college because you graduated early for being super smart?” you rant with an eye roll. peter blinks, shocked.
wait, you know him?
“well, i’m not that smart—”
“oh, don’t even. i’ve seen all the awards and grades to know you’re smart. you could probably graduate tomorrow if you asked,” you leaned back in your chair with your arms crossed and eyebrows raised. peter wanted to tell you that you were wrong, but if he were to take the GED test, he would pass it with flying colors. he’s thought about it.
wait, you KNOW him? he’s trying not to let his falter him.
“let’s just work on this,” peter shook his head and rubbed his face before grabbing a worksheet and working on the project. you got the memo, and started following along with peter. you asked questions that related solely to the project, trying not to get distracted.
while peter explained an analysis question, you analyzed him. you never really noticed peter before. yes, you knew about his success in school and what not, but you never really saw him. he seems like the biggest dork ever, but in the cutest way. his sweaters and khakis totally make sense for his character and personality.
“i hope you’re smiling because that means you understand…” peter tilts his head to the side, your eyes focusing back. you hadn’t even realized you were smiling.
“yes, totally get it,” you nod your head even though you have no idea what he said. a hint of a smile peeks on peters lips, and it’s so adorable it almost hurts. he goes on to answer the question and the next few, explaining each one and why that is. you weren’t really focusing and you were just begging for this class to end.
when the bell finally rings, you thank the heavens. you were a bit saddened to leave peter and his very squeezable face, but you’d probably forget about it later.
you tend to forget things pretty easily. kind of like how you forgot what time the bell rang for this class while you were… busy in the bathroom. everyone knows what you were doing in there and you couldn’t care less. so what if you got off with some bloke in the bathroom? it’s not breaking news!
peter packs up his papers and books, his heart ramming in his chest. he looks at his papers and notices his sloppy writing because he was so nervous around you. as he puts everything away and slots his backpack upon his shoulders, he catches your eye one last time.
“well it was great working with you, parker. you’re very wise, you know that?” you run your fingers through his lightly gelled hair and completely ruin it. peter was fine with that though. he blushed as he felt the pads of your fingers touch his scalp. you did it in a friendly way, like someone would do to a little kid.
did you think of him as a little kid?
maybe, but at least you thought of him.
you could think of him as a cold-blooded killer for all he cared. you were thinking of him. he was in your mind. peter practically jogged to his locker to meet ned. he still wasn’t sure about the whole cabin thing yet, but he was definitely going to tell ned about his new partnership in english.
“dude,” peter breathes out, now in post-shock. ned looks at peter concerned but intrigued. peter then remembers his fizzed hair and pats it down. “you won’t believe what just happened.”
thanks for reading and requesting! 🤭
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elysiansparadise · 2 years
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Hi ellie ! I love your posts immensely— they’re mystifying, and I constantly look forward to reading them.
If you wouldn’t mind, could you do a description on pluto in the 3rd house ? but only if you’re so inclined🌷
Take care and have a lovely day !
Hello love, I appreciate your comment so much, thank you. And sure, I can do it.🤎
Pluto in the 3rd house
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Knowing what these natives think is something very difficult, ironic, since they can easily tell if something is happening or if you are hiding something from them. With this placement there is a mix between intellect and intuition, they usually have many hunches that in the end turn out to be true, however many of them think the same, because they are afraid of confusing their hunches with their fears or insecurities. These natives are prone to nervousness, not trusting other people easily and in case Pluto is making tense aspects, they may have a tendency to expect the worst of some things or people. Over time they have learned not to place expectations on people and it can be difficult for them to form relationships or take the first step to interact with others. They have great skills for investigation, they can discover many things on their own without others even knowing that they were investigating or interested in it. They are people with an inquisitive soul, they feel the need to expand their knowledge and it never seems to be enough for them. The more mysterious or complex something or someone seems to them, the more fascinated they will be. They may have interests related to taboo topics, spirituality, psychology or esotericism in general. They may have a taste for reading or writing from a very young age, tending to prefer raw, dramatic or exciting novels.
They are powerful communicators, as writers they have a unique ability to make you feel every sensation they want you to feel. As readers, they really like to immerse themselves in the stories they read, they get bored easily if these or even series don't start with something that sparks their curiosity. These natives may have tense experiences with neighbors, whether they directly don't get along, have very mysterious or strange neighbors, or simply be very indifferent to them. Something similar happens with siblings, since this placement favors a close relationship with them in which they will keep each other's secrets and although they are not very expressive they will know that they can count on the other or it gives us a relationship full of intensity, dramas in which there is the possibility of estrangement or envy.
These people fear the idea of ​​being fooled, of appearing foolish or inexperienced with what they say, some may even keep their questions to themselves so that they are not judged. It is very likely that the native has been highly criticized by people at school or even by their own siblings. They hate lies and they are the kind of people who prefer that you tell them the truth, no matter how painful it may be, rather than lying to them. They are very honest people who will always give their point of view clearly, it is one of the reasons why people often turn to them or ask for advice when they need some clarity. Many of these natives can be very nervous and have trouble sleeping or calming their minds in order to relax. They may have traumas or bad memories of their student days, in the same way they may feel that it is difficult for them to connect on a deep level with people, they do not usually like too trivial talks, they want to know as much about you as you have inquired about. you, and if you haven't yet dared to do that, they help you wander through those deepest areas of your being, they will analyze you and help you to know every corner of your mind and heart, even the one you don't want to face.
-> Go back to the masterlist
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tmnt-tychou · 1 year
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First Kiss Head Canon (Bayverse)
@thelaundrybitch​ requested this head canon. I wasn’t sure what to write at first, but then I woke up at 5 AM and this just wrote itself. Enjoy.
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Mikey
He has been thinking about kissing you since nearly the first time he met you. But it's something he's kept on the back burner while he gets to know you. He absolutely does not want to put you in the position of him asking for something you don't want/are not ready to give.
He will be the first to ask/initiate, but he's going to make 100% sure you want it. He's going to look for all the signs, watch your body language. When he notices you're always touching him, always moving into his space. When he sees how you watch his mouth, how you bite your lip, because he's mouth-watching, too.
He's eager, but he also wants that really good first kiss, so he may wait for what feels like the right time. If you're the first one to lean in, he will meet you half way and then some. If he's initiating, he will ask first. It will be hesitant at first; he's never done this before. But once he feels you kissing him back, it is go time.
That first kiss is followed by many other kisses. He can't hold back now. It feels like he is trying to steal the breath right from you. You both have to stop so you can get in some oxygen. But you're both giggling breathlessly and touching each others' faces, touching foreheads. It feels right and you both have been wanting to do it for a while. There will be many more make-out sessions to follow.
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Raph
If you want to kiss this boy, you are going to have to tell him. He wants to, but he is so afraid of fucking this up. He's never done this before and, if he's honest, he has no idea what to do. If you two wanted to live your lives without ever kissing, he's okay with that. Just so he's not risking you laughing at him or making it so awkward you never want to see him again.
If you want some kisses, you have to go get them yourself. Catch him off guard and give him a quick peck while he's talking. This poor boy's brain is going to explode. He will stop in mid sentence and not move for the longest time. Raph.exe has stopped working. Then he's going to get the biggest, goofiest grin and it's not going to go away for a while. His brothers are going to tease the hell out of him and he doesn't even care. He's too busy floating on cloud nine.
When he takes his turn kissing you for real, that's when it might get a little awkward. He is legit bad at it the first time. Too much mouth, too much tongue. His timing is all off. You hated to do it, but you had to pull away because this was a train wreck.
He's immediately embarrassed even though he had a feeling he was this bad at it. He had warned you. He understands if you don't want to try it again. The two of you don't have to kiss. He will still be content to just be around you, hold you in his arms. That is, if this isn't a deal breaker for you.
Your response floors him. “I guess we're just going to have to practice more.” He's frozen again, but you're climbing on top of him, cupping his face, holding him still. Gently guiding him as you touch your mouth with his, showing him how you want to be kissed.
You two get a LOT of practice in and he is very eager to learn. It isn't too long before the student becomes the master. He turns into a bomb-ass kisser. Like knees-to-jelly, panty-dropping type kisses. Raph is very proud of his newly acquired talents and will use it to his advantage to win arguments or just get you to shut up and make out with him. You've created a monster. But he's your monster.
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Donnie
When it comes to you, Donatello has learned that being patient and letting things run their natural course is the way to go. He's tried to control when and how things happen. Tried to plan everything up to the last detail and it never works out. He has to let things happen between you organically.
Communication is the cornerstone to this relationship. He has informed you that if you want something from him, all you have to do is say so and he will make it happen. You tell him you want him to kiss you and he pauses. Then he puts his hands on your shoulders and leans in. The first kiss is a bare whisper of a kiss. It is hesitant and experimental. He doesn't know what he's doing; afraid of doing too much too soon.
Before he can fully pull back, you grab his face and tug him back in for a real kiss. You press your mouth firmly to his. He doesn't react at first, then slowly kisses you back. You two engage in a slow make-out session that's sweet and exploring.
Donnie is never super big on kissing. He is more into nuzzling. He wants to put his face on your skin or in your hair and just breathe you in during the intimate moments. In the rarer times when he pulls you in and starts kissing the hell out of you it's because he's been in the mood and thinking about you all day. Those types of kisses are a prelude to a very long night of him absolutely wrecking you.
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Leo
Leonardo is a turtle of two thoughts. One, he is extremely patient and will wait for as long as it takes for you to be ready. Two, he wants—needs—to kiss the absolute life out of you.
He feeds both wolves.
When you give him every indication that you want him to, he is on you. He is cupping your face, pressing his mouth to yours. It's gentle and controlled at first. But then you find out this cold-blooded reptile is one hot-blooded turtle. He is suddenly backing you against the wall, pressing his whole body into you as his kisses turn ardent and needy.
He doesn't stop until your lungs are screaming for air and then he reluctantly pulls away, panting and trying to control himself while he rests his forehead on your shoulder. He had been waiting to do that for a WHILE and you were his catharsis. After he's gotten that out of his system, he's more in control. But a heavy make-out session gets his blood boiling every time.
This man is an absolute fool for kisses. If you inform him you intend to give him many smooches, his brain just goes: asdfkjwlekr. Sit in his lap and slowly kiss his face all over and you will have an absolute happy pile of turtle goo on your hands. All the content churring. He will be useless to his brothers for at least an hour afterwards.
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