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#why do people even ask me math questions
ozzgin · 14 days
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Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons
I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.
Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere
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You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”
Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”
He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.
The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."
Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.
"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."
As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.
"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"
He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.
The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.
He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.
"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."
He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.
He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.
Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.
The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.
He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.
After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.
His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.
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owliellder · 7 months
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Two's A Crowd
College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)
Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.
Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing
Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added
Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!
I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)
Cross-posted onto AO3
Chapter 1
Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.
In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.
You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.
It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.
Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.
Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.
The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.
By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.
“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”
He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”
You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.” 
A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.
“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.
Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.
“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.
“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”
“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?” 
Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.” 
You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”
Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”
“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”
“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.” 
She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.
“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”
Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”
You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”
“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass. 
After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.
To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.
Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.
Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..
You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.
“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.
“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”
“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”
Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.
Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”
You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”
“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.
He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table. 
How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen. 
The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.
“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”
You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.
Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that
You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.
He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.
“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”
“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”
“He was bullying you.”
“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”
Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”
“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”
You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”
“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”
“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..
Only until finals, maybe even sooner.
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chosopie · 1 month
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FLUNK OR FUCK - SATORU GOJO
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Gojo was the popular kid in college who often attended frat parties and was known for his pretty face and athletic abilities. He had numerous girls up on his shit who would desperately beg him for a chance, but no. His eyes were set on you.
A lot of people didn’t understand why he was so fixated on someone like you. You were a STEM girl—the complete opposite of him. You two came from different crowds that didn’t get along.
Gojo was tempting. You couldn’t deny the fact that he was hot. He had a nice toned figure and angelic facial features. It was like he was sculpted by the gods and descended straight from Olympus. You had nothing against dating him, but you had standards. The kind of man you wanted was someone who was responsible and intellectual. You couldn’t stand the thought of being with a guy who had shits for brains.
“Y/N! What could I possibly do to make you date me?” He whined into your ear. He had been pestering you for 45 minutes now while you were busy summarizing your notes for tomorrow’s upcoming math test.
“Please, just one chance!”
“Ugh,” you groaned, finally turning away from your notebook. “One condition.”
“Anything!” He exclaimed.
“Pass tomorrow’s math test and I’ll let you hit,” you proposed.
“Too easy! It’s just basic math,” he scoffed, crossing his arms.
“Sure,” you rolled your eyes. “Good luck.”
-
It was the day of the test. Gojo was comfortably sat on his chair with his legs crossed, his mind thinking about how close he was to getting some pussy—yours, which made it even more exciting. The professor started distributing the papers to the students in the front row. After all the papers had been given to those students, they started passing the papers backwards. You were one of those students in the front and as expected, you were already leaning over, your back slouched and your forehead close to touching your table while you started solving the problems.
Gojo looked at his paper, carefully analyzing the first equation.
“This ain’t so bad. Y/N taught me this. You just gotta use that one formula,” he thought.
Done. Next problem.
This one wasn’t a challenge either since it was relatively similar to the first problem. Gojo triumphantly smirked and started writing his answers.
Next.
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“Guys, what the fuck is that…” he mumbled to himself, his hands clutching his hair. “I’m fucking cooked.”
-
“Do better.” The professor sighed as he handed Gojo his paper.
“Don’t play with me like that,” Gojo nervously laughed. He had to have passed, right? He answered most of the questions. It was just that one question he left blank.
11/30.
The red writing on the top right of the paper stared at him.
“Gojo!” You called, walking over to his seat. He was slouching, quickly putting his paper away the moment he heard your voice.
“What’s your score?” You asked.
There was no response.
“Gojo?” You worriedly asked, then you looked at his stiff face. “So, you failed?”
“Please. Pussy….” he softly pleaded.
“Seriously? That’s the last thing you should be worried about right now,” you sighed, rubbing his back. You suddenly heard sniffles.
“Fine! For fuck’s sake, Gojo! Just come by my apartment at 5 and we could fuck. I’ll teach you too so you better pass the next test.”
“Thank you,” his voice quivered. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
: ̗̀➛ part 2
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42spideys · 10 months
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TEDDY BEAR — e-42!miles morales x m!reader
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synopsis: some miles hc’s about him dating a cute chubby boy and how he is with him!
pairing: earth 42 miles morales x male reader, earth 42 miles morales x black male reader
tags: m.reader, fluff, slightly suggestive, possessive miles, really intense love from miles
notes: IM GOING THROUGH BRAINROT OUGHHHH I LOVE U MILES
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when you and miles got together it was a shock to everyone, especially you. you weren’t the most talkative person, ridiculously shy, but he still found himself drawn to you.
you were the cute chubby boy that he sat next to, he liked to sneak glances at you. enjoying who your cheeks puffed out when you were confused on a question, his favorite is when you give his arm a small tap and try to ask for help. he always teases you when this happens, he can’t help himself, you’re just to cute :((
you pouted at the math equation in front of you, you tried 16 different ways to solve it until you finally gave up. you glanced over to your seat partner, miles, he always made your face heat up. you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hype yourself up to ask him for help in a way that was comfortable for you. you tapped his arm with a shaky hand, he tilted his head towards you with hooded eyes filled with boredom.
you almost forgot what you wanted to ask him, the way the sun bounced off his body, making him glow almost like an angel. everything about him was perfect to you, his eyes, his nose, his lips…you felt yourself get lost.
“focus, guapo, what did you tap me for,hm?” you felt your face burn in embarrassment, you slid the piece of paper towards miles with a pout, pointing at the question you were fighting for you life for.
cute. you were always really, really cute.
he follows you around the school, kinda like a bodyguard. you were happy to have him for company, he knew that you didn’t talk unless you either wanted to or had to, so when you guys were together he would do all the talking for you.
he is so protective over you even before you guys get together, glaring at people when they look at you funny, outright pulling you away from situations he finds weird.
and he’s so so jealous…
you could be in a one sided conversation with another student, giving small “mhms!” once and awhile, miles literally wrapped an arm around your shoulders and just walked away with you.
when you whine at him he’ll just give you a “she was talkin to you funny, don’t fall for that, rey.” you groaned a fake annoyance at him before giggling at his small pout.
and when you guys finally get together
he is going CRAZY
spoiling you with art of you, buying you your favorite snacks, little stuffed animals, cute collectibles, and so much more.
you’re his prince and he has to treat you like so! he won’t have it any other way >:(
“miles!? what the hell, you shouldn’t have gotten me this stuff! how much was-“ miles silenced you with a soft kiss to your lips, you whined at the contact. miles pulled away from your wet puffy lips with a smirk, “i’ll buy you whatever i want, you deserve it and so much more, so take it before i tackle yo ass.” you took the large bear and roses from miles arms, your face practically burning off.
miles was all giddy inside, he loved seeing you squirm and get flustered whenever he bought you practically anything. you weren’t used to getting gifts in the slightest, you barley got anything for your birthday and christmas, not that your parent didn’t care about you. money was just really really tight, miles knew that, that’s why he made it his mission to spoil you like you deserved to be spoiled!!
don’t let him catch you being insecure about yourself or saying anything mean about yourself, he will fr go off in disbelief
you’ll mutter something about, “i hate my tummy…i really gotta stop eating.” think miles wouldn’t hear that, but erm…
he absolutely did and damn near broke his neck trying to turn towards you, his face twisted in confusion
what do you mean by that?? who said you could say that about yourself??? do you want your ass beat or something?? (lovingly of course)
“the fuck did you just say?” miles glared at you, making you instantly shrink into yourself. you picked at your fingers, looking away from miles burning glare, “i said,” you heard him get up from his desk and walk over to you. he took your chubby face in his hand and made you look up at him, you instantly melted in his touch. “what did you say, hm? you talkin’ bad about my favorite boy?” “…i said i don’t like my tummy.” you mumbled, you heard miles give a laugh he only did when he was either about to fight or say something absolutely outrageous.
he sucked his teeth before pushing your back on the bed, he lifted your hoodie to expose your tummy, this made you shiver and pout at him. “miles! what are you-“
kiss.
huh?
kiss kiss kiss!
you start giggling as miles continues to kiss and bite your tummy, you tried to pull him away by his braids but he just bit you even harder leaving teeth marks. after he was done with his tummy attack he hovered above you, his gold chain you gifted him for his birthday dangling perfectly above you. “don’t let me catch you saying some dumb shit like that ever again, or i’ll find other ways to keep that pretty lil head of yours straight.” he cooed.
“miles, technically i cant do that because-“
“i will kick you out of my house.”
at first he really didn’t like physical affection, but after you guys made it official he would go crazy if he didn’t get to touch you at least 10 times a day
constantly having his hands or body on your or near you
coming behind you in the halls to wrap his arms around your midsection while getting his head in a nice and comfy position in the crook of your neck, holding your hands and locking pinkies with you, biting your cheeks when he got bored
always kneading your cute chubby tummy like a cat whenever he got the chance
he also loves your neck, like that’s top three on his list of favorite body parts on you. perfect place to leave hickeys and bites :3
“hold still, i’m not done.” miles has been sucking and biting your neck for what seems like hours, your neck was throbbing with pain, you still didn’t even know why he was so intense about giving you these marks. “miles, what the hell are you even doing?” you whimpered into miles ear, he grunted in accomplishment and had a huge smirk on his face. “give me my phone, let me show you my masterpiece.”
you handed him his phone in pure confusion, you rubbed at your sore neck with a pout. “jeez, my neck hurts.” miles chuckled at your complaining, “you could’ve told me to stop at any time, rey.” he unlocked his phone to go to his camera, he placed his hand under your jaw, lifting it upwards to the left. he made sure his hand was in the shot, the whole time he was taking pictures he had a smirk on his face.
“let me see what you’ve been torturing my neck for the past ten minutes for, please.” miles rolled over next to you and handed you his phone, “only because you asked so nicely.” as soon as you saw the pictures you thought you were gonna pass out, miles had somehow sucked his initials in your neck with a bite mark under it. you covered your face in embarrassment, quickly shoving your face in miles chest. “i cant stand you, how am i supposed to walk around with this?” you peaked up at miles who was still just smirking “that’s the point, i want everyone to know that you’re mine and mine alone.”
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brooooswriting · 2 months
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hiii it’s my first time making a request and I saw that you were looking for Leighton Murray x reader requests.
So I was thinking about Leighton x reader, where reader knows Leightons dad and he tries to match them up. And she’s like the whole package, she plays soccer with Whitney, is an Lgbt advocate and also joins Leighton’s advanced math class. Leighton feels threatened so it’s like academic enemies to lovers.
You're better than me
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“Hello,” you greeted Leighton and the other two people in the room as she walked into her advanced math class. She was new in there after her family forced her to take harder classes. The other two greeted you happily while Leighton only rolled her eyes. You had to hold in a scoff, even if she wasn't the biggest fan of you, was it so hard to say hello?
While Leighton wished that this was the only time that she had to see you, it wasn't. You were also on the football team with Whitney and you often visited the women's center. So, she wasn't safe anywhere cause Whitney liked to bring you into their dorm to study since you were pretty good in all your classes.
This was precisely why Leighton could not be more excited for the family weekend, which was crazy because her family was exhausting. But at least you would be busy too, or at least she guessed that you would be.
“Hey Dad,” she said as her father got out of the car. He immediately walked up to hug her, holding her too close for her to get any air.
“Hello, how are you? How is Essex treating you?” he asked, not really hearing the answer as she had to mumble into his chest. “I can't wait for dinner tonight, I want you to meet somebody” he added as he finally let her go.
“Meet somebody? Please tell me you don't have a side chick.” She frowned looking at him.
“Leighton! No, of course not. Now, let's go. I believe we have a packed schedule.” She nodded and followed him into the building, constantly thinking about who she might have to meet. The blonde had to say that the day went quite well, it mostly did when she was alone with her dad. They talked about college, her mum and Nico, about what she might do after her years at Essex and how his job was going.
After some long hours, it was finally time to go eat and she would finally see who he would want her to meet. As they walked into the restaurant her heart stopped when she was to whom her father was walking. There you sat in a women's suit, with some makeup and heels. God, she hated the fact that she was attracted to you right now.
“Y/n, it's so lovely of you to meet us here,” her dad said as he hugged you, making her nearly gasp. You gave him a smile as you hugged him back.
“No problem, Henry!” you told him and again the blonde nearly gasped. You turned toward her and sent her a big smile. “Hey Leighton, it's nice to see you,” you said as you pulled out the chair for her. Henry did not tell you that he would bring Leighton tonight which made the whole thing kinda awkward. You actually liked her but she seemed to hate you.
She sent you a tight-lipped smile and sat down, you and Henry then joining. “So, it seems like you two already know each other,” Henry said, giving you both a big smile while his daughter rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, we do. But, just out of interest, how do YOU TWO know each other?” the girl who hated you asked, aggressively pointing between you and him.
“Oh well, after you came out your dad wanted to know what to do, and how to act. You know it can be hard for parents of gay kids, even when they accept their children for it. They never know what is too much and what is not enough” you started to explain but didn't get far.
“Can you maybe skip all this shit and just answer my question?” she snapped making her father furrow his brows.
“Yeah, of course. Since I am an LGBT advocate your dad asked me for help” You gave her a short nod when you finished your explanation.
“Why would you ask her dad? And why would you want me to meet her?” It wasn't hard to see that she was annoyed, by you, her dad and just life in general you guessed.
“Well, she's a great woman Leighton. She plays football, has a scholarship for it, she is great at math, she is part of the lgbtq and she is exactly your type” You wanted to disappear so bad right now and it seems like Leighton wanted the same thing. For you to disappear. Her eyes were wide and her brows raised as she stared at him with disbelief.
“Dad! I told you we’re not gonna talk about my dating life. Not ever. Got it? And especially her” well, that hurt. Henry gave her an unhappy look before giving you a sorry one. You only gave him a short nod to signal that it was alright.
“Leighton that’s enough! I’ll go to the restrooms real quick before we eat” he stood up and walked away. As soon as his back was turned towards you the blonde was on her phone.
“Look,” you started and pushed her phone down so she could look at you “I know that you hate me for some weird reason but your dad was really nice and asked me to come so I said yes. I didn’t know that you were coming alright? So how about you use some manners and act like you can at least stand being in a room with me huh?” She only picked up her phone again making you sigh. “I don’t get why they talked about you so nice in the women center” you mumbled out making her look up from her phone.
“What did you just say?” She couldn’t believe your audacity. Who did you think you are that you go and talk to her and about her like that? Especially mentioning her ex. God, she hated you. You were so annoying and she didn’t even know why.
“I said that I do not understand why they said that you were nice and shit. I was really happy when I heard that you were in my advanced math class, but you only acted like a bitch the whole damn time. You even do it when I visit Whit, and the only thing I ever said to you there was ‘hi’” you ranted, happy to finally say what you’ve been thinking of for so long. Luckily for you, Henry came back before the blonde could say anything else.
“So, did you guys decide what you want to eat?” He asked as he sat down.
That was one of the most exhausting dinners you ever had. And after hours, Leighton still kinda ignored you and Henry ordering his drink extremely weird you were finally out. “Are you sure you don’t want us to drive you back to college? It’s quite far” the man asked again making you chuckle.
“Yes Henry, thank you tho. I’ll walk, need a bit of fresh air and exercise” it was a lie. You didn’t really feel like walking but the thought of sitting in a car with Leighton was not even close to what you dreamed of, so walking seemed like the best idea.
And after a really long discussion with Henry, he finally let you go. “Wait, I think I will walk with her dad. Then you can make your way back home, it’s late already and I could use the fresh air too” you sighed internally but didn’t want to make this awkward in front of the older Murray.
You waited for them to say goodbye before making your way back to college. “Why?” You just asked after a few moments of walking as you just couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay anymore.
“Didn’t wanna discuss this whole thing with him” you chuckled at her answer, it was clear that she didn’t wanna talk so you just shut up and kept walking. At some point you looked over to see the blonde hugging herself, goosebumps covering her arms. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before deciding what to do. Right now, you hated her as much as she hated you. Why did she have to be so endearing and cute while being a goddamn asshole at the same time?
“Here” you mumbled as you draped your jacket over her shoulders, making sure that it would stay.
“What the fuck? What the fuck am I supposed to do with your cheap ass jacket?” She asked, but her voice wasn’t as harsh as it usually was as she noticed the goosebumps now covering your arms.
“Get warm. Just accept it, it doesn’t mean that you have to like me or anything. Look, I’ll even fall back ok? You can walk in front of me so nobody realizes that we were somewhere together” you immediately slowed down and let her walk to get some distance but she stopped too.
“This is a bit much don’t you think? It will be even weirder when we do it like that”
“Why do you hate me? I’ve been nice to you, you hate me. I ignore you, you still hate me and try to bully me. Why? What did I do to you? I was really excited to meet you” you looked her straight in the eyes, this time you weren’t going to break it first.
“No particular reason” she shrugged but it was a lie, this time it was obvious. So you just kept staring at her, challenging her to go with her lie. “Fine, I just feel like you may be smarter and a bit more academically advanced than me which made me… I don’t know. I just don’t like it, and then you also have to be hot and trained, I mean even now I can see your damn abs” you couldn’t help but grin as you finally knew why she hated you.
“You know, if you really feel like I am smarter than you, then I can’t say anything else other than would happily tutor you” you joked, breaking out in laughter while Leighton hit your shoulder, an unamused look on her face. “Alright, I’m sorry. But I think the same thing about you, you’re extremely smart. Way smarter than people think you are and as if that wasn’t hot enough, you also look hot. Like damn. But I was so excited to meet you because I’ve been crushing on you since you came to one of our games” you smiled, this time it was a real smile.
“And… even after I treated you like shit, would you still be open to… you know?” She asked, her voice unsure.
“Otherwise you wouldn’t have my jacket right now. So, do you wanna go on a date?”
“You really still wanna go?”
“Yeah, I do”
“Then I would love to”
“Finally” you mumbled as you walked closer to her, one hand slowly going towards her waist. You moved slow enough for her to move away, but were more than happy when she stepped closer too. After she didn’t make any sign of discomfort you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers, kissing her softly.
“I should have stopped being a bitch way earlier” she mumbled before kissing you again, the kiss getting more passionate.
You walked her home, your hands brushing against each other every now and then making a warm feeling spread in both of your stomachs. “Alright, so we will go out tomorrow after math?” You confirmed, smiling when she gave you a nod. This time she leaned in first, kissing you again before giving you your jacket.
“I cannot believe you beat me by one point in this damn math game” Leighton complained on the way to the restaurant you were taking her. You chuckled as this had been going on for about 15 minutes.
“Well you said it yourself, i am smarter than you” you joked, petting her back to assure her that you were joking. By the time the blonde finally shut up about this game you had arrived.
“Go y/n, go Whitney” Leighton screamed as she stood up while watching you and her roommate play, her body clad in your soccer jacket. The sight making you smile every time. After the game was won you quickly ran to Leighton pressing a kiss to her lips. “You did So well” she praised.
Her roommates watched from the other side as you and her smiled at each other, a similar happiness adorning your faces. A happiness no ex of Leighton had ever put on her face.
You couldn’t wait to see Where this relationship would lead.
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cryptotheism · 1 year
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Hey I'm trying to make this as genuine as possible: why study magic? I'm not questioning the legitimacy of it, I'm asking what is The Thing of the study of magic. Like math has numbers, I guess? Is it a branch of the study of philosophy, or of religions, or both? Do you study magic writings from the point of view of - what? It sounds really abstract to me. When I try to follow what you write on here it feels like I am peering at a dark tunnel with half an eye closed and thirty shots of vodka in the brain, and I ask myself, "Why does it matter that Bunglo Fundoborgus believes the symbol for the sun must be an X with eleven circles instead of an O with three dots?". I know it does, it relates to historical thinking and religions and I would suppose even folklore, I'm just - having trouble focusing here. Why is there The Study of Magic instead of Magic in The Study of Folklore or Religion or etc? When witchy people go "this rock and this grass will hex my enemies" or "Artemis is soooo mad rn" is it anything like what you study, or does this kind of magic falls under another field of study? Sorry for the word diarrhea, I'm just really confused I guess. Again I am not trying to sealion you here. If that is how it comes off I deeply apologize. Have a nice day.
No no it's a legitimate question!
Bundo Fundoborgus sounds silly right? That's a silly guy who thinks silly stuff.
Well, in real life, you look through Bundo Fundoborgus's wikipedia page, and find a link to the "Fundosborgian Preacher" that was his greatest student.
You click the link, and turns out that Bundo Fundoborgus's Main Student is actually the father of president Harry S. Truman, or some other insanely influential political figure.
These people don't exist in vacuums. Their ideas, no matter how ostensibly strange, have tangible effects on real life that STILL shape the world today, and CONTINUE to shape it.
Here's an example: If you've ever had cereal for breakfast, you can thank Alchemist and medical reformer Philippus Aurelius Theophrastus Bombastus Von Hohenhiem, whose work on anatomy was extremely influential on John Harvey Kellogg, who also invented the chasity cage.
Enjoy western Philosophy? Hegel was influenced by the mystical doctrines of the legendary magician Hermes Trismegistus. Dialecticism itself has its genesis in Hermeticism.
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cuubism · 1 year
Text
thinking about that meta about the endless not really transforming into different forms but rather being all forms simultaneously and just being perceived differently from different points of view. and yeah
--
"So, Death was telling me something interesting about you yesterday," Hob says, sipping on his coffee.
Dream pouts, though he would probably deny that that's what it is. "You are gossiping with my sister behind my back?"
"You know we talk."
"Gossip," Dream mutters again, steps taking on a pace adjacent to an irritable trudge. "What unseemly things does she say about me?"
"Why do you think she says mean things about you?"
"Every time we speak, she calls me an idiot," Dream says, and Hob lets out a startled laugh.
"That's what siblings do," Hob reminds him. "You know she loves you."
"Hmm." Dream plucks Hob's coffee from his hand, taking a ponderous sip. "What praises does she heap upon me, then?"
Hob shakes his head in fond exasperation. "She says that you -- Endless, that is -- can like... change your appearance for different people? Or creatures? Like. If you met a cat you would appear as a cat to them?"
"You do not quite have the right of it," Dream says. He hasn't returned Hob's coffee, despite having insisted that he 'did not require mortal sustenance' when Hob had offered to get him his own.
"What's the right of it, then?"
"It is not for human minds to comprehend."
Hob groans. "At least humor me and try to explain? Do you turn into a cat or not?"
"I do not turn into anything," Dream says, offended. "How base and common."
"Shapeshifting is base and common, I'll make sure to tell all the shapeshifters I know," Hob tells him seriously.
Dream lets out a sigh that Hob recognizes as meaning fine, I will answer your inane questioning about the nature of my existence. The funny thing is, now that they've gotten over the six hundred year barrier of what's your name and what do you do for work, Dream delights in talking about his creations. He will speak at length about his work given half a chance.
It's the personal -- whether that's something as mundane as how he takes his tea or as fundamental as what an Endless even is, exactly -- that's been hard to get at.
"I am a cat," Dream explains.
Hob stares at him, looking up and down at the very man-shaped figure walking beside him as if he needs to double-check. "You're definitely not a cat."
"Yes, I am," Dream says. He does not appear to be joking.
And apparently Hob is still thirteen years old all these centuries later, because he says, "Prove it."
"You cannot see it because you are not a cat," Dream sighs, as if this is truly a tragic occurrence.
"Maybe I am a cat," Hob suggests, tucking his hands in his pockets, all casual. "How would you know?"
Dream gives him a sidelong look. "You are not a cat. Though perhaps you would be more peaceful as one."
"Doubt it. But wait, so, if I was a cat I would be able to see your cat form?"
"In essence, yes. But. You speak as if I would be donning a coat. These are not forms. Merely fragments. Simultaneous angles on a whole."
"Fragments," Hob repeats. He works it through like a particularly hard math problem. "Hang on. So. You're also a cat now. If we met a cat they would see a cat."
Fuck, this is getting weird.
Dream looks proud of Hob for getting it. "Yes."
"Could have attempted to explain that instead of just saying I am a cat," Hob tells him. "I also still maintain that you are not actually a cat."
"I am as much a cat as I am a human," Dream says.
"So, not," Hob says.
"No," Dream agrees. "Because I am Dream."
"You're a nightmare, is what you are," Hob mutters, and Dream smirks.
"That, too."
They've been walking in silence for another few minutes when Hob asks, "What's your real form?"
Dream frowns. "All of my forms are real, Hob."
"Sure, you look like this or that to different people. What do you look like to yourself?"
"All of my forms are real," Dream insists.
"So what I'm seeing now isn't some kind of default? Are you just always different? Is this like that we don't know how other people see colors 'cuz everyone's eyes could be different thing? Or is there any internal consistency to you?"
"I don't know what thing you're referring to."
"What I'm trying to find out is did I invent this version of you in my head?" Hob asks, getting stressed about it now. Did his subconscious somehow decide this was what Dream should look like? Presumably Dream knows what he looks like to Hob. What if he doesn't like it? "Did I just decide yep that's what dreams should look like in 1389 and you've been stuck wearing black ever since?"
Dream chuckles. Probably amused Hob would ever think he had that much power. "No. There is what you call internal consistency in my appearance. Different creatures, cultures, and so on will see different aspects of me, but there is not a different aspect for each person. It is not infinite."
Oh, thank god. "So, you want to look this way."
"I suppose."
Never a straight answer with him.
"Well, just for the record," Hob says, "I fell in love with the entity but I happen to quite like the shape as well."
"The shape," Dream repeats, with a smile.
"Here's where you're going to tell me you're also a triangle or something."
Dream is silent.
Fucking hell.
"I'm not even going to ask," Hob decides, forcibly moving on. "I have another question."
"You have many," Dream observes.
"That's what you love about me," Hob says, and Dream tilts his head as if conceding the point.
"If there was a human culture that thought of dreams as represented by cats," Hob starts, "they might see you as a cat?"
Dream sips at Hob's coffee, considering. "I suppose."
"And was there ever one?"
"No."
Hob lets out a long breath. Dream is frustrating as hell to talk to sometimes, but Hob can't say he doesn't enjoy it anyway, doesn't enjoy the puzzle. "Was there ever any culture like that, though? That saw their dream representation as something other than a person?"
"There was one that thought dreams lived in bubbles, therefore I was the reflection of light along a bubble's curve," Dream says, expressionlessly. As if that isn't wild and fascinating. "However, that civilization has since disbanded and morphed into different forms."
"Which civilization was that?"
"You would not know it," Dream says.
Hob tips his head back and groans. "God, you're like an edgy teenager who knew that indie band before they were cool. Oh, which band? No, you wouldn't know them, they're too niche, too underground."
"Underwater," says Dream. "It was a civilization of dolphins."
Hob trips over a crack in the road and just manages to catch himself. Dream stops by his side, watching him with some concern, like he worries Hob might break himself in his clumsiness.
"The way the world looks to you must be insane," Hob says, staring at Dream.
Dream's lips tip up in the faintest smile. "Human perspective is narrow."
"Clearly. I wish I could see all your other forms. Must be amazing."
"You wish to see them?" Dream sounds surprised.
Hob scoffs. "Of course. But it's not sounding very possible."
Dream inclines his head in agreement.
Then a thought occurs. "Wait." And god, Hob has said a lot of stupid-sounding things in his life but this is about to be one of the worst. "If I pretend to be a cat, can I see your cat form?"
Dream can never answer a simple question directly, but apparently this absurd query is fine. "I suppose it is possible in theory for you to see it. But pretending is not enough. You would have to wholly assume the perspective of a cat. I do not know if it would be possible in practice."
Hob's never needed much more encouragement than that to try something. "Alright. Hold my coffee."
"I am already holding it," Dream points out.
"Hush. I'm being a cat."
How he's supposed to do that, Hob doesn't know. He paces back and forth before Dream, squinting in the sunlight. He looks at him from every angle. He tries to imagine what cats might dream of. Mice? Freedom? Sleeping in warm places? Their dreams must be feeling and instinct-driven, not intellectual.
Hob crouches down, looking up at Dream from as close to a cat's height as he can manage. Dream merely raises an eyebrow.
"Are you going to meow at me?" he asks mildly.
"Meow," Hob says, and Dream's mouth pops open in a round o of surprise that is one hundred percent worth the indignity of kneeling on a public street and meowing. "What do cats dream about, anyway?"
"World domination," Dream says solemnly.
"Haha," Hob says, but Dream doesn't take it back.
"Alright, I'm channeling megalomania," Hob tells him, shutting his eyes. "I'm channeling my inner despot."
"And an imposing one at that," Dream observes, looking down at him.
"Quiet, subject, can't you see I'm in the middle of ruling with an iron fist? Or paw?"
"I am quaking in my boots," Dream says. "Please, show mercy."
Hob squints back up at him. God, he's really trying, but it's hard. Cats live close to humans, but they are still so alien. Off in their own worlds, their own battles and hierarchies.
"Will it work if I lick you?" he asks. "Like how cats groom each other."
Dream blinks at him, once, twice, slowly, catlike, which he must be doing intentionally, because he's a bastard like that. "This is, as I believe you would say, getting odd."
Yeah, it is getting fucking odd.
"Perhaps you should try imagining my female form," Dream suggests, and if Hob weren't already on all fours on the sidewalk he'd have fallen over. "It is human, and may be easier."
"You have that?" Hob squeaks, scrambling back to his feet. "But I thought it was like, a species perspective thing? Do women just see you as a woman, then?" Then he shakes his head. "No, that's way too simplistic."
"Women can see me like this as well," Dream says. "Or however their culture dictates."
"So why would someone see you as one gender or another, then? Just a culture thing? Preference?"
"Why do some people see God as a woman?" Dream asks the air.
Hob groans. "You are impossible."
Dream smirks.
"Or maybe you just like being unknowable," Hob guesses.
"Perhaps."
"Perhaps. Yeah, perhaps. I'm sure." Hob cracks his knuckles. "Alright, my unknowable cosmic entity of a significant other, let's see if I can turn you into a woman."
Dream stares at him flatly, but Hob can see the slightest uptick at the corner of his mouth.
Hob still doesn't know what exact perspective he needs to see Dream as a woman. Maybe if he just believes really really hard he can make it happen. Force of will. It's how he'd always planned to make himself immortal, anyway, absent a fortunate encounter with one prickly dream entity.
He stops looking at Dream, and tries to look through Dream. Tries to imagine how it feels to see the true depths of his eyes, how the cosmos in them go straight to infinity. He tries to see around the way the light reflects off of and shapes Dream's form to the shape within, like a sculptor seeing the body in the marble before it's carved. Hob is no artist, but he tries.
And he knows Dream. He may not know all these angles on his form, but he knows Dream, the entity, the person. They have had a long friendship, Hob and the concept of dreaming.
And just like that, the perspective shifts. For a split second, Hob sees an infinity before him, the eternity of all existence condensed in all its brilliant, glowing facets--then his brain skids around it to avoid going mad, latches onto an angle, and slams back to earth.
Hob sways, rubs at his eyes, and then laughs hysterically. "Fuck!"
"Hob?" Dream sounds uncertain now. "Are you well?"
"I think I just glimpsed cosmic knowledge never meant for my mortal eyes, or whatever," Hob tells him, somewhat maniacally. His ears are kind of ringing, eyes swimming in the afterimages of a very bright light. "You're incredible, do you know that?"
"As you judge," Dream says.
Hob finally drops his hands from his eyes.
And immediately slaps them over his mouth, letting out a sound so high-pitched and manic he hadn't thought his vocal cords could manage it. "Holy shit."
Dream frowns. "Are you well?" he asks again. "Perhaps I should not have allowed--"
"I fucking did it," Hob whispers, mostly to himself. "Oh my God. You're a woman. I think? You look like one. I guess?"
Dream looks down at himself. Hob wonders what he sees--does he see what Hob sees? Or does he see the incomprehensible mass of everything that he truly is under the human trappings?
"Ah," he says, and presses a single fingertip to one of the breasts that he now has, prodding it curiously. "It appears that I am."
Okay, so he can see what Hob sees. Good to know.
"Yup," Hob says. He can't seem to steady himself whatsoever. "Yup, yup. You are."
"Impressive, Hob," Dream remarks, looking up at him again with a smirk. His jaw is narrower now, his lips plusher, but God, it's that same fucking smirk that drives Hob insane.
Hob wonders if Dream's female form is also bound by some limitations on appearance the way his usual form is. He hopes so, because it if turns out he managed to manifest Dream's tits to fit his own subconscious desires, he might just have to choose Death at last.
Hob still has his hands over his mouth. He makes himself drop them.
Dream frowns at his silence. "Are you not pleased?"
"I'm very shellshocked and reorienting my view of the universe," Hob tells him. "Also, you're very beautiful and it's just a lot all around."
That smirk again. Whatever minor amount of immunity Hob has developed over the centuries is obliterated by the new shape of him. "Ah."
"Ah," Hob echoes. "Can I kiss you?"
"You may."
Hob does so with his usual enthusiasm, perhaps more, as he does so love novelty. Dream tastes much the same, feels much the same to his hands, and yet not, like Hob's different perspective on him has altered the angle of his touch. Hob runs his hands indulgently over the softer curves of him, settling them on Dream's waist.
"Dear heart," he murmurs into Dream's mouth. "Most beautiful thing."
Dream makes a soft sound and rests his face against Hob's.
They stay there for a long moment, frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. Then Dream asks, "Would you have still kissed me if I was a cat?"
"On your little furry head, yes," Hob says, and pecks his cheek. "I thought you were a cat."
"I am," Dream says.
Hob groans. "Enough, I'm getting confused again. Let's stop with the metaphysics and go home and do something less headache-inducing."
"Like playing with the new toy you've found yourself?" Dream asks, raising an eyebrow, but obligingly lets Hob wrap an arm around his waist and tug him along down the sidewalk.
"Pretty much!" Hob agrees. "If you're amenable."
"I suppose I can bear it," Dream says solemnly, as though being kissed and coddled and worshiped is the greatest hardship of his eons-long existence.
Then he says, quietly, "You are singular, to perceive me thus."
"As..." Hob looks at him as they walk, looks at the elegant cut of Dream's cheekbone and the sweep of his eyelashes, the longer fall of his hair. "You mean, in more than one... facet?"
Dream nods. "You... see me. The truth of me. And still, you look upon me kindly."
"What other way is there to look at the one you've loved your whole life?" Hob asks, throat tight.
Dream leans into his side, and Hob presses a kiss to his temple, holding there for several steps. And he continues to hold him close as they go on, keeps his unfathomable boundless entity within the circle of his arms, where he can keep on fathoming him.
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Text
nothing serious.
professor! anakin skywalker.
a/n: hiii! so, @fuckmyskywalker came up with the idea for this concept, and I've decided to write my own fic on it! LOVEE me some starwars boy. But put him in a SUIT?? drool worthyyy.
tw!: smut. lots of smut. ahem. p in v sex, sort of breeding kink? it's small but it's there. use of the name pet!! unprotected sex! do not attempt! dumification kink? also miniscule but there. big big sir kink. Anakin loves asserting the fact that he's the top here.
Disclaimer: 18+ only please! I'm not responsible for the media you consume as an adolescent!
description: Attending the most sought after university definitely was the best decision you'd made regarding your college career, but one perverted professor almost makes you want drop out entirely. Anakin Skywalker, was in no short terms, egotistical and a hard-ass. At least that's what you knew, so why is he asking to see you after class?
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Ah, Corscuscant University. One of the most popular STEM universities in the country. The same STEM university you attended. Being a biology major, it was a no brainer for you come here. When you arrived as a freshman Corscuscant felt like your dream school, but like every dream, reality had set in. Your painful reality was Anakin Skywalker; your math professor. Professor Skywalker was one of, if not the most attractive man you had ever seen. He knew he was good looking, too. Almost every person in school had a crush on him, one of those people being you. That's not to say you didn't find him annoying as hell, but you could appreciate a good complexion when you saw one. Despite his good looks, it didn't change the fact that Anakin Skywalker was an egotistical hard ass, whose courses were next to impossible.
It was easy to ignore his big mouth and jabs at any poor soul unfortunate enough to get a question wrong in the beginning, focusing on your studies and logarithmic equations. However, as the class began to get more difficult, your counselor started suggesting attending his after school lessons. Something you couldn't be bribed to attend. But alas, hell hath no fury like a college counselor.
The good thing about Anakin's tutoring is that it's only on Fridays. The bad thing, is that it's a ghost town most days. if he's lucky, Anakin might get 2 or 3 students. So by the second semester, it became just you and him.
Anakin Skywalker was now aware of your existence. He was aware you sucked at math, and he was probably aware of your attraction to college professors who made even Pythagoras hate math. So now here the two of you were.
Just earlier that morning, you'd been notified that the tutoring had been canceled, so your plans for the evening were to go home and sleep. But, before you can walk out of the classroom, Professor Skywalker calls your name. Leaning against his chair, he looks at you piercingly. "Come to my office as soon as possible. We need to discuss your grade in my class."
"Yes professor. " You stuttered, sending a questioning glance to your friend. You walked towards Anakin's office, knowing he'd already be in the room. You hesitated to enter, dreading whatever miserable information he had to bestow upon you, in private. You noticed while peering into the room that he's got a paper in his hand. 'please don't be mine,' you pray.
Once you entered, you moved to stand in front of his desk. "Are you free to stay awhile? I have some questions about your last exam." He says, seeming relaxed. You DID have plans, no, you were not free. Ugh. You guess you can't deny your teacher, so you nod politely. "Great to hear." He says, motioning for you to walk around the desk.
Anakin rolls out his seat, and moves to stand. Now standing in his personal bubble, per his suggestion, you fidget with your hands. "So, what about my exam? Did I fail it, sir?" You start to get worried. "No, no, nothing like that. You actually made top of the class once I graded it." Anakin praised. "I'd actually like to offer you some extra credit."
Anakin motioned for you to take a seat on top of his desk. "What kind of credit?" You asked, now level eye level with his chin. "Just some extra course work and a few more sessions in the week." Anakin shrugged, almost distracted. You hesitated, "I suppose I can, uhm, do that." Anakin smiled at your stutter. He placed his hand under your chin and lifted it to meet his eyes. "You're certainly obedient. I like that." You felt your brain screech to a halt. "Excuse me, what?"
Is Professor Skywalker hitting on you? This has to be a dream. You look up at him, and lo and behold, he's staring right back. He looks hungry, like you're a delicious piece of meat. "You behave when and how i tell you to. Has anyone ever told you that's attractive?" Anakin clarifies, placing both of his hands on desk, trapping you under him. You bristle at his statement. "Sir! that's inappropriate!" Anakin just laughs, and leans in. He says, quietly, "That's alright, pet. It's only inappropriate if someone finds out. I don't intend on telling a soul."
You feel your nose subconsciously scrunch up in confusion. "Pet?" Where did that come from? "You're my little teacher's pet, aren't you? It'll be our little secret." Anakin places one hand on your thigh, the other further along the desk to prop himself up. You can feel his hand wander to your hip, and you're not sure you want to stop him. You didn't know someone's hands could feel that good, with his feather like movements. You're about to let him continue, until you remind yourself that you didn't lock his door. Anyone could walk in.
"Wait, not here. Someone will see." You try to push Anakin away, but he grabs your wrist to restrain you, gently. "Yes here. I can't stop myself." Anakin ducks his head below your chin, and places butterfly kisses along your throat. You hold it in, but you want to moan at his touch. Anakin pulls away, "I'm going to give you your first extra credit assignment. Answer these 3 questions."
You try to focus on his words and not the pooling heat between your legs. "Yes sir." You're pretty sure Anakin noticed you squeezing your thighs together like no tomorrow, and he's just saying these things to rile you up. He quietly moans at your obedience. "Good girl, keeping doing that." You look at him, "What, calling you sir?"
Anakin nods, giving your hip a squeeze. "Yeah, baby. It means you know who's in charge here."
Clearing his throat, Anakin begins. "Now, question one. are you aware of how tempting your body has been to me?" You can feel your cheeks lighting on fire. He's certainly been bold. "N-no sir."
"That's okay, beauty, I'll show you. Question two: will you let me kiss you?"
Oh fuck. You knew that was coming. Oh well, you only live once. "Yes sir." As soon as the words left your lips, Anakin had cupped your cheek, pulling you into a passionate kiss. Anakin was a good kisser. You'd figured that was probably true a while ago, but now? To feel him? It was overwhelming. He pushed against your mouth, using one hand to lift your leg against his hip. Using the new angle, Anakin deepened the kiss causing you both to moan against each other.
You can feel Anakin get more and more aggressive in the kiss, to the point he's pushing the desk a little. You pull away from him for a moment, causing him to chase your lips. "Anakin.." You start, but he cuts you off with a growl. "Who, pet?" You should've expected that one. "You, sir. You're pushing the desk apart." You correct yourself quietly, murmuring your concerns into his ear. Anakin frowns in thought before donning a sultry grin. "I've got a better place for us to continue, dear pet." Before you can question him, Anakin wraps your legs around his waist and takes your mouth in a kiss. He lifts you from the desk before walking towards the couch in the corner of his office.
You yelp as Anakin gently throws you onto it, and you're once again locking lips.
"Mm, sir.." You moaned into his mouth, feeling him crawl on top of you. Anakin smiles, looking down at such a pretty sight. "Such a good girl, pet. You gonna spread f'me?" Anakin tapped your thighs, and you pulled them apart at his request. Anakin settled himself between your legs. "For the last question, pet," Anakin pulls up your skirt and hooks his fingers into the hem of your underwear. "How badly do you want me to fuck you?" Feeling your heart speed up, you replied shaking, "So badly, sir. Please."
"Good girl. you've earned yourself an A+." He rasps, sitting up and undoing his belt. Craning your head, you watch as Anakin unzips his trousers. You almost gasp when he pulls out his dick. You're not even sure you can take him, with how large he is. "It's alright, pet, no need to look scared." Anakin cooed, kissing your jaw. He lifted up your skirt, and pulled on the hem of your underwear. Discarding them, you were now bare for his eyes to see. "We'll go slow, baby." Anakin reassured you, lining himself up with your entrance. Gently as Anakin could be, he pushed into you. Whimpering, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was both painful and overwhelming, and you instinctually pushed at his chest. "Relax, little pet, relax." Anakin grunted, already being squeezed like a balloon waiting to be popped. Anakin finally bottomed out, after what felt like forever. It felt so good. "Tell me when, darling." Anakin refused to move until you gave him a sign. Taking several deep breaths, you nodded. "No, pet. give me words. Use them, baby."
"Please, sir."
"Please what, my girl?"
You knew Anakin was getting impatient, but you were so overwhelmed with pleasure it was hard to form words. You him growl in your ear. Feeling his hand touch your soft flesh, Anakin gripped your waist and moved without warning, "I'm not going to wait anymore, little pet." You couldn't help but let out a guttural moan. Holy shit. He was so big, and you've never felt so filled in your life. "Sir..!" You cried, pulling him down and kissing him. Anakin begins to kiss you passionately, pressing you into the sofa. His mouth meets yours in a loving and desperate kiss as he starts to move faster, causing your loud whining to be muffled. If you weren't blissed out, you'd die of embarrassment at the lewd noises the two of you created. Anakin, on the other hand, loved it. Feeling him speed up, you pulled away from his mouth and almost screamed. You knew you were close, and you told him so. "Sir, please! Close, close, please.. mm," You were practically crying from how good he felt. "I know pet, I know." Anakin replied, grunting when he felt you squeeze him harder. "God, keep squeezing and I'm gonna burst, baby, fuck."
Hooking his hands under your thighs, Anakin lifted them onto his shoulders, pressing you in half. The new angle made your insides burst with pleasure, making you scream. "C'mon pet, you can do it." Anakin encouraged, hitting all the right spots harder. "Cum for me baby, cum all over my dick, yeah?" His words sent shivers through your spine, and your eyes rolled. It was too much. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you finished with a moan.
However, Anakin didn't stop. Despite your release, Anakin moved even faster. "No, no, sir! I can't!" You cried, already overstimulated to high heaven. "Don't be selfish pet, i know you can do it," Tightening his grip on your thighs, Anakin grunted over, and over, and over with every thrust. "Don't want my cum, baby? huh? Don't want your teacher to fill you up till you're full?"
Too fucked out to use your brain to respond, you squeezed around him again. It was too much for you, and now, the last straw for him. Letting out an animalistic growl, Anakin buried himself as far in you as he could, bottoming out fully. Your tummy felt so warm, being painted with his load for what felt like forever to you.
He collapses on top of you, panting softly. "Such a good girl f'me, baby. M'so proud of you." He coos at you, still out of breath from the intensity of the moment. After a few seconds, Anakin lifts his head and chuckles. "Poor thing, too dumb to respond to me?" He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. You whine at his teasing, pouting at him. He leans to your ear and whispers, "Don't be shy, baby. You did so good f'me."
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priniya · 5 months
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🌊 ASSUMPTIONS
SYNOPSIS. jj maybank gets a little too involved with a kook for his friends’ liking, but he wouldn’t be jj maybank if he gave a shit. on contrary, you do and it bothers him.
NOTES. jj maybank x kook!reader. a little short + not proofread
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you definitely underestimated how much things people assume on a daily basis. it had never bothered you before you got with a certain blond pogue — maybe, because beside your small friendship with sarah cameron (and an occasional hook up with her older brother), no one really cared. then you started hanging out with jj maybank and nothing was truly the same.
some people shamelessly assumed that your sweet relationship was strictly of convenience. maybank was with you for the money, giving you weed and fulfill your sexual needs whenever you wanted. some would say that you knew how rafe… wasn’t exactly a fan of pogues, so you hung out with jj to get back at the oldest cameron sibling.
on the other hand, hardly anyone reckoned that due to all that time you were caught spending together made you genuinely like him. no, you always had to have some kind of cruel reasoning for skipping school to smoke weed in the back of twinkie (and make out).
did it bother you? unfortunately, a little bit too much. your boyfriend just got into your room by the halfway open balcony door while you were scribbling down math homework on your ipad. your coursework was one of the small amount of activities that let you rest your brain and get busy with something so insignificant to your relationship.
jj knew you were subconsciously upset. he didn’t really have to ask — the uneasiness painted all over your gorgeous face. his long, distressed sigh got you out of trance. your eyebrows scrunched at the sight in front of you. how did he get there?
“tell me what’s in that pretty head of yours.” he muttered, face inches away from yours after having kissed you — too shortly for your liking.
“my brain.” you let out, hands going to the collar of his t-shirt, unsuccessfully trying to pull him into another of those sweet, mindblowing kisses. “jay.” a groan slipped from your lips as he refused once again and you felt like going insane, one night he says he can’t stop himself from kissing you and now he does? liar.
“let me rephrase the question, you brat.” his eyes rolled. “what’s bothering you so much that you can’t tell me?” his fingers brushed through your hair as you sat yourself in his lap.
“kiss me and i’ll tell you.”
“tell me and i’ll kiss you.” another groan left your mouth, earning a quiet chuckle from him. he was worried, but sending you over the edge was funny, hilarious even.
ten minutes. that’s how long the two of you sat in silence until you were ready to reveal the reason of your upset, thoughts organised and your forehead against his shoulder, while his fingers were tracing different patterns on your back, sending a shiver down your spine once in a while.
“i just— shit, it’s so stupid.” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “i hate that people think you want something particular from me or the other way around.” it’s there and jj couldn’t help but chuckle at your explanation.
not because he thought little of your worried, but because it was almost unlike you to be so bothered by people so insignificant in your life. “doll.” the blond cracked a smile, gently nibbling at your earlobe. “me and you, ride or die, eh?” jj’s smile only got wider, when you nodded. “let them assume whatever they want, why stop ‘em? you know your feelings and i know mine. this is the thing that matters. not gonna lie, though, if you were with me just for my weed or my dick, that would probably give me a god–complex. imagine that the hottest girl in the entire outer banks is with you, because you fuck her so well? jesus, i might get a hard–on right now.”
“you really can’t simply tell me that you love me, can you?” you asked with a smile lingering on your lips long before he finally pressed his mouth against yours.
“you know i do, doll. where’s the fun in that?”
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jazzsonly · 7 months
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ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ
pairing(s): sam carpenter x g!p!stem!reader
warning(s): none. very very brief kiss. mentions of reader being a nerd/nerd-like. not proofread.
summary: sam might have said no to your date but you get something even better.
part two. coming soon!
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when you met chad, you’d never thought you would become best friends with a guy like him. he was an idiot jock, who liked to party and be shirtless.
you were a smart tutor, a somehow homebody who liked to party. so i guess, you could say that’s what you guys had in common,
partying.
you tutored chad every wednesday but one weekend at a frat party you bumped into the jock, surprisingly ending up having a drinking contest. you found it a little odd to be drinking with the same guy you’re tutoring but chad found it cool, he found you cool. he had never met anyone as smart as you but now he had never met anyone more fun than you.
as much as he loved his friends if core four, he couldn’t deny you were down for things with him they wouldn’t be. after, the partying and drinking contest together, you both got more comfortable together, setting up study dates at each other’s apartments.
those study dates eventually became call of duty battles, checking out the girls on campus together, sometimes hitting the gym together. there was no denying you and chad were newly best friends, despite ethan’s sulking jealousy.
now, you were glad you met chad but even more glad when he introduced you to the core four, more importantly sam.
sam.
you were no better than a man when you first laid your eyes on the girl, you stared at her like she was a piece of meat. it was so bad that now everytime she entered room and you were there, chad just had to joke telling you to close your mouth.
you were sure sam sorta kinda had thing for you too, from chad she was super uptight with new people, definitely not a trusting person but with you, she was chill. she sat next to you during movie nights, shared the popcorn with you, sometimes she even laid her legs in your lap.
this enflamed your crush even more, well until tara claimed it was only because she thought anyone chad brought around was just as dumb as him. and no dumb person could be ghostface.
but she was wrong, you were top of all your classes, well almost all.
fuck chemistry.
“chad, focus.” you slap the back of the boy’s head who had dozed off at the sight of tara.
“ow! i am focused!”
“stop being a baby, i didn’t even hit you that hard. now, how many vertices are in this problem?” you point at the math sketch in the textbook.
“uh…7?” you pinch the bridge of your nose.
you had been at the kitchen counter for hours trying to tutor chad but he had only gotten two questions right.
“look, don’t get mad at me you’re the one who supposed to help me know this stuff.”
“you’re impossible to teach!” you throw your hands up, dramatically letting them fall back down.
“what are you doing?” you turn your head a the familiar voice, your favorite voice.
sam who had just emerged from her room from a hibernated nap.
“trying to tutor this idiot.”
“hey!” you ignore chad, all you energy engorged with sam.
“you? tutor?”
“uh, yeah, i’m top of all my classes…well except for one.” stupid chemistry, you thought.
“you are?” you nod.
“then why are you friends with chad?”
“hey!”
“i ask myself the same thing.” sam just nods at your words, making her way to the fridge.
“can we take a break now?” you flag chad off and he takes that was his leeway to take the couch with tara.
“soo…sam?” you move your way around the counter.
“yea?” she answered despite her back away from you as her eyes scanned the fridge.
“i was thinking, i mean if you want to uh go to a movie with me?”
you watched as her movements paused and she turned towards you, you couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling or her facial expression but there was something there.
“sorry but i can’t…” she trailed off, closing the fridge and seemingly retreating back down the hallway into her room.
you stood there, dumbfounded.
dumbfounded yet unphased, if sam carptener’s love was a challenge the nerd in you would gladly accept it.
“she’s not gonna give up, just watch.” you hear chad mumble to tara, which you flipped him off.
in the coming weeks after that you expected sam to avoid you like a plague but she did the opposite, it was like everytime you were over she went out of her way to be around you. making sure to touch your shoulder when she moved by you, hugging you as a greeting, hell she even cuddled with you on movie nights and to say the least, you did not mind.
but what you did mind was when you asked about her rejecting your advances, she would avoid it.
once again the nerd in you would not allow this, you would get to the bottom of it and right now was the perfect timing. everyone had left to the store to collect snacks for movie night, minus chad who was in tara’s room doing god knows what with the girl.
it was just you and sam, empty and open apartment, side by side on the couch while family feud played.
“so, you’re really not gonna tell me why you won’t go out with me?”
“you don’t give up do you?” the carpenter turned you, resting her hand on the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair.
see.
“you’re so clingy when i’m here, so why won’t you go out with me?” you watched as she bit her lip, suppressing a taunting smile from you.
“you’re cute, you know, i think you’re cute.”
you smile, “i think you’re cute too, so go out with me?”
a breathy chuckle came from the girls lips, and she moved close to you.
“kiss me.”
“what?” you were taken back.
“kiss me before i change my mind.” and then you didn’t hesitate. you closed the little space that was between you two, landing a soft but stern kiss onto her lips. your hands finding her hips, pulling her closer and her arms found their way around your neck.
a sigh of relief and satisfaction somehow escaped your lips, while a hum escaped hers. her kiss was candy mint, it tastes good and you didn’t wanna stop but unfortunately air became an issue and you reluctantly pulled away, “so does this mean i can take you out?”
“stop asking me out.” she scoots away just in time because the door flew open and in came ethan with bags on bags while anika and mindy came behind with empty hands.
“thanks for the help.” ethan mutters sarcastically.
━━━ part two (coming soon!) take it easy on me, it’s my first time writing in MONTHS.
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writingsfromhome · 5 months
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If you Love Something
A/N: this has been an idea sitting in my drafts for a while. You and Harry had a brief but intense relationship as teenagers, were forced to make a serious decision then, and it’s aftereffects have lingered for the rest of your lives. It deals with some heavier topics so read with caution (alcoholism, depression, unwanted pregnancy etc). I’d describe it as sad but hopeful.
Part 2
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Age 17.
It started in secret. We’d found each other on the roof of a house party. Truth be told, I saw him sneak out of the window where people were crowded around the TV watching some controversial music video I hadn’t heard about. And I’d followed.
I knew who Harry was. Had him in English, Maths, and Biology last year. He was well spoken, thoughtful, and silly. I never spoke to him once though. Only admired him from afar.
Tonight I had my first drink and then another. I was feeling buzzed and despite being painfully shy for most of the time I’d known everyone here, I was suddenly gripped by the realization that we were approaching the last year we would all be together. Why had I waited this long to pursue someone I thought was cute?
I snuck out after him, when my friends weren’t looking. I even tilted the window more closed than usual so no one would suspect anything; I had the attic room at home so I knew how to maneuver the angled roof to get comfortable.
“You need any help?” Harry’s voice is clear in the silence.
“I’m alright.” I stand up to peer at him. He’s climbed near the top.
“Sure? You don’t seem steady.”
“Oh I’m steady,” I prove it to him by climbing up to where he was. “See?”
“I’m mistaken. My bad.” He holds out a hand to help me sit beside him and the night sky flashes brighter for an instant when I grasp his hand. My stomach is in knots.
“Harry. Styles.” I don’t know why I say his full name but I was nervous.
He repeats my full name back to me. I don’t know why I’m surprised he knows it. It’s not like we went to a big school.
“What brings you out here?”
I try to be bold about it, “You?”
“Party was getting too much.” He says. I stare at him in confusion while he complains about something his friends had gotten up to.
I replay my answer and realized it sounded like I’d skipped answering his question and asked the question back. Bugger.
“You know my name.” I interrupt him, forgetting he was telling me a story. Awkward.
“Yeah? Of course I do.”
“We’ve never talked.”
“We talked. Once in Maths. We had to grade each other’s answers.”
Oh yeah. I burn when I remember the 4/10 he’d given me with a smiley face saying that maths was masochistic.
“Barely.”
“I know you though,” he says with a softness that makes my heart stutter.
“Do you?” I look to him, resting my chin on my shoulder. He gazes down at me and I swear I could taste the colours around us.
His eyes draw me deeper as he inches closer. Was he going to kiss me? Oh my god.
I look back out to the roof and he jerks away. Omg.
“I do.”
“Oh,” I don’t know what to do after that awkward moment.
“I know you’re really quiet and shy but your smile is so loud you can see it from across the room.” He says and my breath catches as he continues. “You’re yourself with your friends, you really like Harry Potter and field hockey. You would kill Mal Adams if you could get away with it and you hate Maths just as much as you love art. You’re dating Oli Graves but your smile is only ever shining half as bright when you’re around him. Can I go on?”
I stop breathing completely halfway through his declaration of knowing me. All this time I had my eye on him, I didn’t know he was watching me too.
“I didn’t ask you for your opinion on my relationship.”
“You didn’t. I didn’t give you one either.”
I glare at him. He was right. He smiles knowing he was. I’m mad that I’m not mad at him. That he was right.
“What are you doing with a guy like that?”
Oli and I had been dating for 7 months now. He was loud and fun in a way I wish I could be. That’s why I liked him so much. That’s why I was at a party like this to begin with.
“He’s a good guy.”
“That’s all?” He asks. I look over but he’s looking up at the sky. I follow his gaze and get lost in the great expanse of nighttime.
“I think you deserve someone who sees you. Don’t you?”
“Did Ally see you?” I ask with a hint of aggression I didn’t mean to have.
“Ally and I broke up during Easter. So there’s your answer.” He’s unbothered.
“Well what do you want?” I ask.
“Right now? Or in life?”
I shrug. “Both?”
“I want to explore the world and meet all kinds of people. I wanna make the world a better place by being in it. It’s cheesy as shit so if you ever said I said this I’ll deny it and you’ll look like-“
“My lips are sealed.” I turn his way to promise him that. It makes me laugh at how serious he looks saying it all and when I do his face relaxes.
“You laugh is nice too. I forgot to mention that.”
That quiets me very quickly.
“And right now,” he continues. “I’d really like to kiss you.”
My ears ring. Did I hear him right? Could you get so drunk you hallucinate? I swear the cold air had sobered me-
“Did you hear what I said?” Harry’s moved in closer to me. Did I? I don’t know.
“What d-“
“I’d like to kiss you.”
I nod, afraid to talk and realize I’d hallucinated him saying that.
The world melts away when he kisses me. It’s tender, nothing like Oli and his jagged pushy kissing. In the nighttime air it’s warm, and soft, and easy.
“I know you,” Harry says when we part. I’d nearly climbed into his lap and I try to edge away, embarrassed, but he keeps a hand firm on my thigh.
“I know you too Harry,” I breathe. He smiles and it crinkles his luscious eyes.
I think I was falling.
***
We keep it a secret after I break up with Oli. For months, until mid-August when I invite him over for dinner after my mom insists on meeting “the boy I was all doe-eyed over”. The night with my family goes so well—Harry is the picture of a courteous gentleman that even my sister is swayed by him despite saying boys were gross. I ask him to hang out, in public, the next day. He doesn’t hesitate to say yes.
That’s what I love about Harry—yes love. He’s not pushy, he lets me go at my own pace. He respects me and sees me for everything I am and loves me anyway. I wanted to spend my whole life with him.
It was so intense and relaxed at the same time. It felt like no relationship I’d been in before. I felt different being with him, even my friends noticed.
When final year started, Harry and I were official but we didn’t flaunt it. We didn’t need to. My friends knew about us and they were happy for us, they told me I was more me. Whatever that meant.
Life was phenomenal and I was living in a dusky haze. Nothing could touch us.
Until one day in February. I was out with my sister, mum didn’t want to take her out and since I recently got my driver’s license with plenty of lessons from Harry, I was driving her to the mall. She needed Valentine’s Day cards.
“I thought you said love is stupid.” I remind her on the way.
“It is.”
“So why the hell am I driving you to buy cards for a made up holiday?”
“Because!” She crosses her arms and stares out the window. I flick her arm at a red light.
“You have a crush.”
“I do not!”
“Do too. Who is it? James? Mattie? Hamid?”
“Ew! They’re freaks.” My sister continues staring out the window.
“Why do you want to buy cards so bad!?”
“I just want them! For my friends!”
“Okay then,” I didn’t believe her. But I couldn’t bring her home crying or mum would ground me.
A lot of places have slim pickings. Wandering the aisle of Waterstones I catch sight of a family friend. She was my dad’s uni friend’s daughter, a few years older than me but by the time I got to secondary she had dropped out after getting pregnant. I remember the buzz when everyone found out.
I avoid her and find an aisle to occupy myself.
Harry and I were always careful, mum had already given me the talk and he never pressured me to do anything I didn’t. I imagine Harry as a dad. He would make a good one I think.
As one thought leads to another I go cold as I realize something. My last period was during the holidays.
I feel like I’m walking in a swarm of locusts as I walk to the edge of the aisle, scanning for my sister. Maybe I can pop into a pharmacy before she’s done. Maybe…
This was crazy. It was probably just a missed period.
But if it isn’t, another voice asks. I felt it in my gut. I had to do this.
I don’t remember getting home. I don’t remember anything about the rest of that day except two faint lines, and then two faint lines again, and a third time. I fall asleep before dinner that night and shut the world out.
***
“I know something’s wrong.” Harry’s walking me home after school. It’s Valentine’s Day and he’d been nothing but sweet. He bought me chocolates, flowers, and we planned to cook dinner together after school. I had bought him chocolates too, and had written him a heartfelt note with a bunch of photos of us weeks ago. The box was in my room, waiting for tonight. “Do you not like the flowers? Or is it dinner? We can go out somewhere instead?”
“No everything’s lovely.” I’d never heard Harry this desperate before. It gets under my skin even though part of me knows that’s not really it. But having him hover over me all week trying to figure out what was wrong was too much.
I’d spent every night this week with a hand over my belly. Thinking about it. I hadn’t told anyone. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. All I can think of was Jenny and I didn’t want that life. I couldn’t. I couldn’t be a mother.
“Please. What’s the matter.” Harry asks again, tugging at my hands but I pull them away.
“I just need some space!” I shout and he flinches. “I’m sorry Harry. I just need space right now.”
“Right now like…” he scratches his head. “I don’t get you. It’s Valentine’s Day, we’ve been talking about this day for weeks what do you mean you want space?”
“I can’t do this right now. Please.”
“Are you-are we…”
“I’m not breaking up with you.” I look at Harry with tears in my eyes, I didn’t want to cry out here. But every time I look at him I remember the reality. What’s growing inside me. I can’t take it. “I just can’t do today.”
I go inside my house. Leave him without further explanation. I feel awful, I can’t hold the tears in long enough to get to my room.
***
“Hey love?” My mum and dad knock on my door at half past 5. I lay in the dark, having cried myself dry. “We’re worried about you. Can we talk.”
“I can’t.” I say, voice stuffy.
“I thought you and that boyfriend of yours had plans,” dad says. He liked Harry but he rarely called him by his name. “Did something happen?”
“No!” I wanted them to leave me alone. “I just. I had to cancel. I’m fine.”
“Don’t sound fine to me love,” I feel the mattress dip as mum sits down. Dad strokes my hair. They whisper something I can’t hear and a pair of footsteps pad out of my room.
“Mum just leave me alone.” I try again.
“I’m not.” She pushes me further into my bed and leans down, tugging my blanket down. When I finally look at her she smiles kindly and kisses my forehead. That fills me up enough to start wailing again. “Oh love, what’s wrong?”
“Everything!” I sob into my blanket. Mom lays down beside me and I let myself be cradled like a child. God, I had a child. This was so fucked.
“Talk to me. We can figure it out together.”
I don’t know how my parents would react. They were never particularly strict, especially after what happened with Jenny I remember them always being sympathetic. We even visited her in hospital with a gift.
Mum strokes my hair and whispers that it’ll be okay. Slowly my sobbing eases into light sniffles. I had to tell her. She would know what to do. And if she hated me for it, I would just have to deal with it.
“Mum don’t be mad-“
“I won’t honey I-“
“No. Mum.” I cut her off. She moves back on the pillow so she can see my whole face, moving a strand of hair so I couldn’t hide. “Something…messed up. Happened. And…I was careful. We were always careful I don’t know what happened but I-“
I watch her face changed. Like she knew. She knew what was coming but she waits patiently as I muster up the courage to say the words that felt too real once I said them.
“Mum I’m…I’m pregnant.”
Her eyes fill with tears and she bites her lip. What was she thinking? Was she crying for me or with me? Why wasn’t she saying anything!?
“Mum-“
“C’mere.” She wraps me in her embrace again and kisses the top of my head. My body feels drained and limp. I finally told somebody. It was real. This living thing inside of me was real.
“What happened?” She asks next. And I tell her what I think happened. When. How I found out. She listens, holding my hand in hers. When I’m done and it’s poured out of me she smiles supportively. “This isn’t a bad thing okay? It’s okay. Any decision you make is up to you. I’ll talk to your dad but just know you call the shots okay? I love you.”
This is what carries me. The love.
She asks me it I told Harry yet and I tell her the truth. She urges me to tell him. I tell her I wanted to so bad but I was scared.
She leaves shortly after that, I hear her talking softly outside my room. Nobody calls me for dinner until 7, a soft knock on my door. My sister would never be so soft, I assume it’s dad so I tell him to come in. I was scared to face him.
It’s Harry instead.
“Harry!” I cover my splotchy face with my blanket, why was he here? Did mum invite him? This was soo embarrassing.
My heart pounds and Harry is silent until he takes a seat where mum had previously been.
“I came over, your mum invited me. She explained.”
She did what? For a moment I feel betrayed.
“She said you weren’t doing so well. Stressed? I could make you some tea if you’d like. But I told you y/n, you’ll get into unis. You don’t have to worry so…”
I sigh. Mum had told him a half-truth. But he had come. Of course he had.
I couldn’t even think about uni right now because that lead me down a road of what if I couldn’t go because I had a baby. And that life felt so bleak it made me depressed.
“Harry.” I inch my blanket down a little and his eyes go round when he looks at me.
“You look…awful.”
“I know.” I cover my face with my hair but he brushes it away and kisses my forehead.
“No. I’m worried about you. I brought dinner-“
“Oh Harry.” I spot the bag he brought with him.
“I made it all for us. With my mum’s help but mostly me. I packed it to bring to you.”
I didn’t deserve him. And I had to tell him. And he was going to break up with me. What high school boy wanted a child?
“Harry it’s not uni.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I was carrying another living thing. It was the size of a seed but I was carrying it inside me. Like a living breathing pot. I was a potted plant.
“Then what is it?” His brows crinkle. “Is it us?”
“No!” I rush to tell him. “I…I don’t know how to say this. And I don’t know how you’re going to react but it’s okay either way.”
“What are you talking about?” His hands slide up my lap. “What is it?”
“Harry. I’m um, I’m pregnant.”
I watch him freeze and stay exactly how he is, his brows pinch ever so slightly. I knew this look. He looked still on the outside but his mind was racing. And I was scared what was racing through it.
“Pregnant?”
“Yeah. From…the holidays.”
“How did-I thought we-“
“I guess it’s not foolproof.” I whisper. Mum had told me to go on the pill, and I hadn’t listened because all my friends told me it made them gain weight. If only I had listened. Now I was gaining weight anyway.
“What are we going to do?” He asks next. And I never realized six little words could weigh the world. If I could cut those words out and surgically implant them into my heart I would. Just to remind me the equal parts relieved and comforted they made me.
I hold his face in my hands, new tears springing to my eyes. He was in this. With me.
He kisses me and pulls me into a hug. I cry into his shirt again and he holds me so tight I swear I could break.
“I don’t know if I can keep it Harry,” I finally whisper to him.
His hands fist in my shirt, he holds his breath and after a long minute he lets me go with it.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Was he really okay with all this?
“It’s…I can’t make you keep it.”
“You’d want to keep it?” I couldn’t believe it.
“It’s…” he swallows his sentence and keeps his gaze on my stomach. I tug his hand and lay it over it. When his eyes meet mine I see a hint of heartbreak. We were going to break our hearts either way I think.
Not once did I think he might want to keep it.
“It’s okay.” Harry finally says. “We’re so young right? How would we keep a baby and go to school, and do everything we always talk about?”
“Yeah I don’t…I don’t know.”
“I love you.” He says with such a sudden passion. I wrap my arms around his and return the sentiment.
Eventually we lay down and just talk about everything. Truthfully, my head was telling me not to keep the baby but everything else felt dead thinking about it.
Maybe that’s why it took me until April to finally make a decision. It was the size of a plum by then, and a tiny bump was starting to show but only when I stood naked in front of the mirror. With clothes on, nobody was the wiser. But the longer I kept it, I think the more Harry fell in love with it. The idea of it.
We have a long talk during our Easter holiday. We talked in my bedroom until the sun comes up. I tell him I was sure of my decision.
I’d gotten accepted to Cambridge by then. Harry was staying in London. We knew it wasn’t feasible. To live the life we always wanted, we had to get rid of this new life we never knew could happen.
I don’t know why but I don’t tell him the day I go to do it. I go with my mum. Mum drops my sister off at school—she didn’t know. Mum said she had a big mouth.
We drive in silence. When we park mum asks how I feel.
“Sad.” It was the truth. I knew this was right. But it felt like shite.
“Yeah.” She rubs my hands. “Want to go in?”
“I just want to sit here for a bit.” I tell her.
“Okay. I’ll go sign you in.”
She takes my purse and hers and leaves me there. I take the moment to ground myself. Say goodbye to the other future.
When mum knocks on my window I jump.
“Yn? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah yeah I’m coming in.” I open the door.
“You know you’ve been sitting here half hour?”
I pause, one leg out the door and one still in. “I…I must have got lost in my head. Sorry mum-“
“Look. Do you want to do this?”
“I don’t know…I have to.”
“There are other options love-“
“But how can I give it up and live my whole life like that?”
“We can help raise her. You can go on and live your life-“
“I’d be a horrible mother.” Mum and I had this row so many times before. It always ended in me storming away but I couldn’t here.
“You don’t need to make the decision today.”
“But I do.” I tell her. “Otherwise it’ll drive me insane.”
I tuck both feet back into the car and rest my hand on my belly. I’d allowed myself to do that only in my room, when I was alone. Doing it out here made it feel even more real. Suddenly I couldn’t imagine going through with the decision.
“I can’t do this.” I tell my mum.
She smooths my hair down and kisses my temple. My door closes and a few seconds later she climbs in beside me.
“Think about it.”
“I can’t. But I can’t keep it either.”
“Okay.” Mum pulls me into her and I think I should cry but I can’t. I’m calm, maybe I know I’d made the right decision. Or just a decision. I was going to stick to this.
“I can’t raise it. I’m just a child I…maybe someone out there wants a baby and can’t have one maybe-“
“I’ll look into it for you.” Mum promises. “You set the rules remember?”
And that’s how it goes. Mum looks into it, we decide to go for adoption. We go to the hospital on the first warm day of the year. By then I’d taken to wearing jumpers over flowy dresses and been thankful for the first time in my life that I wasn’t skinny like other girls. At most angles you couldn’t tell my belly was so perfectly round.
By then too, Harry had accepted the decision. He seemed relieved. Thinking aloud he’d said maybe he could raise it, but quickly turned around when I asked him what he’d do about uni.
“Someone out there can take care of it better than us. Someone will love the baby like we do.”
During the summer, I tell all my friends I was staying with family in midlands. And I do go up there, that’s where the couple who was adopting lived. Harry and I meet them with my mum and his. It’s awkward, we run out of conversation fast. But their house is big and they already have a 2 year old from an adoption last year. My baby was going to be loved here. And have a sibling.
“We did want to discuss one last thing,” they’d said before we left. We all listen intently. “We…find it best when it’s a no contact adoption. We’ve had a lot of friends who keep contact open and it gets messy-“
“What?” I hadn’t really thought about this until now. Hearing I’d have to give the baby up and go on like it didn’t exist felt wrong. Harry’s hand slips into mine.
“This is typical,” Harry’s mum says from his side. “Let’s hear it out.”
“Right. So just to prevent future complications, we do no contact. Of course when baby’s older and wants to seek out the real parents we can’t stop them. But until then…”
“Thank you.” My mum steps in when it goes silent. I could hardly wrap my head around what they were saying. When it gets older?
Pretty soon mum is ushering me out and Harry’s hand is still clutching mine. We don’t let go until we reach my Uncle’s where we were staying until August. The baby was due in September. I was going to miss the first week of class.
“I can’t do this.” I tell them later. “How can we just have no contact.”
“I thought you knew.” Mum says. “I explained that some parents want this when they adopt.”
She might have. Ever since I hit the third trimester like my doctor said, I’ve had a hard time listening and understanding what someone was saying after they spoke too long. I was glad school was done—for obvious reasons, but also for not having to sit in a class and learn.
“We have no other choice.” Harry says from beside me. He rubs my back and slowly, I zone back into the conversation. “We can find another family but they might want the same thing.”
“What if the baby never looks for us?” I turn to him, our heads press against the other’s. “What if we go our whole lives just wondering?”
“What’s the other option?” Harry whispers. He was right. I just didn’t want to get it.
Acceptance slowly creeps into me over the course of the summer. It was always hot carrying another person around, I was always hungry and thirsty, and very cranky. Harry came up to see me every other weekend when he could, mum stayed with me and that summer was one I could never forget.
It was September 1st, a particularly hot day. Rain fell in the afternoon and by the time the unforgiving sun set, the cool air was heavenly.
I sat by the bedroom window, moisturizing my belly like mum had shown me, talking to the baby. I wrote it a letter last week all about me, that I loved them and hoped the best for them. I told the baby about my family, how Harry and I met, and then I sealed it in an envelope with a picture of Harry and me. It was taken last Halloween when we’d both dressed up as each other. I tell mum to give it to the new parents. In case the day came the baby wondered about who we were.
As I spoke softly, I felt a gush of something wet down my leg.
“What?” I stand up, confused. “I…”
It takes me a second. I was going into labour.
“Mum!” I shout. “Mum! Come here!”
She rushes in and confirms it. It was happening.
“But it’s supposed to be next week!” I try not to panic but that’s all I can do as mum grabs our things and my aunt rushes to the car. “Does this mean something’s wrong? Is the baby o-“
I freeze as a contraction forces me to fold. I’d felt the kicking and the nausea and everything in between but these. These were a bitch.
Somehow we make it to hospital. Somehow I lay on a bed and push when the doctor tells me to. I nearly pass out. I just wanted Harry here with me. He didn’t know his kid was being born.
With a final push that felt like I was ascending my body and leaving it behind, I hear a wail and I cry. The baby was out, they cried and everything was okay.
“Okay congratulations mummy,” a nurse crouches down to me. “We’re going to clean you and baby up. She’s healthy and looks okay.”
“What?” I can barely see with my hair in my face and the nurses around me. It was a she? I had a baby girl?
We were never told the gender, so we wouldn’t get attached. But I had a baby girl. The nurse just called me mum.
I feel the tears on my cheeks, I was crying too. I try to look around me but a new nurse is talking in hushed voices to the doctor.
“…outside…call…adoption…shouldn’t or….contact-“
“What’s going on?” I can barely get the words out. “What?”
“Oh my love,” suddenly mum’s in the room and things are a bit better. A bit better.
“Mum what’s going on?”
“The baby’s born. The parents are outside they’re going to meet her soon.”
“What?” I look at mum’s face and it’s shining with tears. Why was she crying?
“Oh she’s beautiful love, she’s perfect. But your job’s done now. You should rest.”
“Mum,” I cry. “Where is she? Can’t I hold her?”
“No love,” mum moves my hair out of my face. I feel something break in half inside of me. I couldn’t even hold the baby? The baby girl? Mine and Harry’s baby girl?
“Why? Mum why? I just want to see her-“
“I’m sorry,” mum says through tears. “It’s just the way it is. She’s going to a loving home okay? She’s good. You’re okay.”
I can’t stop crying. I was going to lose her last April and I stopped that but I lost her anyway. My baby, I was never going to see her.
I remember when my sister was born. I was 5 and I was angry she’d taken the attention away. But when I saw her with her perfect toes and angel face I was obsessed with her. I even remember her first steps, she’d taken them at a park with mum and dad and me together. I was never going to know these things about my own baby. I was never going to know her.
I must pass out soon after. I remember waking up to the nurses instructing me about something. I’m half asleep and barely remember what I did when I get up. When I do wake it’s morning and there’s a figure on the chair beside me.
“You’re up.”
Harry. Relief washes over me knowing he’s here.
“Harry they took her,” I tell him.
“I know. I know yn.”
I move aside and he crawls into bed with me. I must look disgusting but he watches me with love brimming in his eyes. I can tell he’s been crying.
“I feel empty,” I whisper. Like someone had carved me out like a pumpkin. Something I’d had with me all year was gone. “How can I just move on? Start uni and all that when I…they just took her.”
“I keep thinking that.” Harry says. “Khalil invited me to a party to meet some blokes from uni and I just sat in my car the whole time. I couldn’t even go in. She…she was never going to be ours.”
“I feel awful.” I burrow into his neck as he strokes my hair. “A baby girl.”
“A baby girl,” Harry echoes.
***
I head to uni a week later. My body still feels like it fought a war and lost. It’s like it still thinks there’s a baby there. I produce milk for a few days, continue to have contractions, my belly is saggier than usual and I can’t stop crying about everything.
My dad drops me off to uni. He tells me he was proud of me, that I was always his baby girl. I cry then just like I cried at home when I said bye to mum, or when my sister hugged me which she never does. I can’t stop crying.
When I move into my dorm I feel like a completely different person than I thought I was going to be. My dormmate fills me in on everything she’s learned, complains about a boy and a party and it just feels so irrelevant to me. Did I used to care about those things? I had a baby. And now I didn’t.
By October, Harry and I are in different worlds. We hadn’t broken up but we talk weekly. Each week there’s less to talk about. When I visit home in October, being around him just makes me sad. He tries to cheer me up, make it like old times, but I know he’s hurting inside too.
I decide to do the breaking up. And at first he’s angry, insisting we could make it work. He actually refuses and walks away. We don’t talk for a whole day.
But at a house party in South where his uni mates were from, he accepts the end.
Through tears we kiss each other one final time, we whisper sweet nothings, we pour into each other all the hopes and wishes we had for each other.
When he hugs me for the last time I leave something behind. It’s similar to waking up the morning after my delivery and knowing something was gone. I really feel the shape of the loss. It sits in my sternum, a hole that grows smaller with time, but not just yet.
I fall into a depressed state for most of my first semester but my dormmate doesn’t give up on me and eventually I go to my first uni party. Eventually my brain fog clears and I actually go to all my classes. Eventually my life, on the outside, looks like it could be back to normal but inside I ache with the loss. So much that it becomes part of me. I don’t know where it ends, and I begin. It lives in me.
Age 23.
“The first of many hey?” Mal clinks his bottle to mine. I barely knew Mal but we were both friends with Khalil and therefore both at his stag.
“Before you know it we’re all going down,” one of Khalil’s friends joins in. “Stag after stag, suit after suit, it’s gonna be a blur man.”
“Let’s enjoy it while we can!” Someone cheers and everyone raises their beers. I toast with a smile; blokes loved to act like being in a relationship was the last thing they wanted when I knew most of them were mush in their girlfriend’s hands.
I also smile knowing I bought an engagement ring a few weeks back. I wanted to propose to Shannon, we met on her 22 when a friend invited me along. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the birthday girl. We’d been together since.
“Who do you think’s next?” The bets start going and nobody bets on me. Everyone always thought Shan was too good for me, they were counting on us breaking up. I was going to prove them all wrong.
The night gets sloppier until we all head back to the air bnb we’d rented for this. Tomorrow we were all supposed to go play golf like we were cosplaying old money bastards when we all knew we were just broke blokes from East. But I guaranteed they’d all be too hungover. We would get to the club and just drink the hangovers away.
And I’m right. I update Shan that I’m right when the boys stay in the dining area of the club. They decide on lunch and I step out to talk to my girlfriend.
“No birds allowed this weekend,” someone pipes in when I excuse myself.
“That’s just cuz you’re miserable Eli.” I brush past as the boys laugh. At me. And him.
I catch up with Shan. It was a bright day for September and I stay a little longer after the phone ends. Shan was in med school, she was always stressed or sleep deprived. I tried to support her the best I could—right now she needed moral support that she was going to get an internship she was applying for.
“Mummy doesn’t like when I have sweets,” a small voice says to my left. I look at a father with his daughter. He’s crouched down zipping her sweater up while she rambles on.
“Well it’s going to be our secret.” The dad says. “Sundays are for sweets aren’t they?”
“I love sweets.” She responds.
The father catches my eye and I shoot him a smile.
“Her mum’s going to hear every detail when we get home,” he says as he stands. “Can’t keep a secret to save her life.”
I laugh. The way she was rambling on, I didn’t think so. “How old’s she?”
“6.” He says, smiling down at her fondly. My heart aches.
“Almost 7.” She corrects her dad.
“Birthday’s in the spring.” He says more to me. “But almost 7 sure.”
I see them leave with one more shared smile, like we’re in on something. I imagine that’s how it would feel to be a parent. Always knowing something your kid doesn’t.
My daughter was 6. Wherever she was.
Thinking about the daughter I never had, the girl I lost always leaves me a little winded. Today’s no different.
Yn and I both made an agreement and it had been the hardest thing I’d done. Letting her go. It took me a proper year to even think about moving on.
I liked to think about yn, doing everything she wanted to do. But when I thought about the baby I spiralled into a dark pit. Sometimes when I drank too much, it pulled me in too deep to get out of. That’s what Shan liked to call my depressive drinking. She’s limited me to 3 drinks since.
Before I go in I take a minute to think about yn, where she might be. I hear from friends in high school random facts about her life. But I wonder how she’s doing. If she thinks about our baby like I do. How life would have been if I’d been here, calling her on the phone instead, asking if our baby girl was doing alright.
Age 29.
I stare at the nape of the man in front of me. It couldn’t be, but I’d memorized the back of his head—amongst other things, nearly 2 decades ago and I would bet £1000 I knew who this was. But I continue staring until the cashier rings him up.
In the same voice I remember, the one from my memories and my fantasies, I hear him say: “debit.”
I wait for him to pay before saying, “Harry?”
He turns so quickly he drops his card, wallet, and keys.
“Hi!” I laugh awkwardly and crouch down to help him pick his things up. There’s an awareness that the people in the queue behind me are witness to a moment that feels more intimate than a grocery store chat and it makes me shrink a little in my shell like a spooked turtle.
“Hi I-uh,” Harry short-circuits in front of me as the bored cashier holds his receipt out and stares at him with eyes that have worked one shift too many.
“I’ll just bag-“
“Yeah we can talk later.” I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile but it feels watery. I couldn’t believe of all the places I’d run into him, it was a grocery queue. How intense in such a mundane place.
As I watch my total rise on screen I risk a glance at Harry. His hand hovers over a white reusable bag, I wonder if that was his. Or his wife’s. If they did their weekly shop in a mismatch of bags that looked like that or they were the type of couple to have a set.
His eyes are on me though, somehow here and not here. I feel the same way.
I look back to the cashier asking me how I was paying. She glances between Harry and I. I don’t look back at him. Or the growing queue a few feet away.
I take my groceries—just some items my mum asked me to pick up, and stuff them into the tote I’m wearing. Harry waits for me by the exit.
“Hi.” He says as his eyes scan my face. I do the same, taking in all the ways time had spent with him. It must have been good—he looked good. “I can’t believe-“
“A Whole Foods of all places.” I laugh. A grin splits his face but his eyes stay on me.
“That smile, that laugh. God I’ve missed you.”
“I…missed you too.” How I could miss someone I’d known for one year and then never again for nearly two decades…I didn’t realize it was possible until now.
“Are you busy?” He asks. “Maybe we can grab a drink or?”
“I don’t…drink.” I hated that I had to announce it to people. I was still at the stage where I was figuring out how to say it confidently, or find a way around saying it.
“Oh.” Harry glances down at my belly and I realize he’d misunderstood but it’s too unspoken to correct him. “Cafe?”
“Yeah. That sounds lovely.” Honestly going anywhere with him sounded lovely right now. I wanted to cancel all my plans for the day and just sit with him. Stare at him and catch up. I couldn’t believe he was here.
We walk in a comfortable but waiting silence, like taking a cold drink out to a park with the anticipation it’s going to be good , and no desperation to open it as soon as you get it.
“Usual? Tea?” Harry asks when we step into a nearby cafe. It’s big for a cafe but has enough students working on laptops to not feel empty. I nod, unsure how to feel that Harry still knows what I order at a cafe. Or that my order hasn’t changed since 17.
I find us a booth and pretty soon he’s sliding into the seat across from me. The two of us can’t stop smiling.
“Hi,” he says again.
“Hi…”
“You look good, the same but better.”
“I was going to say the same thing about you!” I exclaim. More smiling.
“How’s…I mean, how are you? How is everything? What-“
“There’s so much to ask-“
“I don’t even know how to ask what I want to know!” Harry laughs and I’m warmed from the inside out at the sound of it.
“This shouldn’t be hard!”
“No.” He scrubs his face. “I’m really buzzing that we’ve run into each other.”
“Me too. It’s a bit unbelievable.”
“I know.” He continues gripping his cup and not taking his eyes off of me. It’s the exact way he used to look at me when we were teenagers. It nearly takes my breath away. “You look good—but I already said that. Sorry.”
“No,” I laugh. “That’s all that’s running through my head.”
“Oh—I remember hearing you were engaged a few years ago-“
“Yeah.” I turn my hand so he can see the ring. “Married now. You?”
“Yeah,” he looks down at his own hand. He had so many rings on I couldn’t tell from a glance. “Coming up to 5 years now.”
“Wow. It’s only 1.5 for me but Tatum and I—my husband, we’d been since uni.”
“Took him a while.”
“Mhm,” it had been a sore subject way back then. Harry says it casually but he studies my face. I know he wants to ask more but he’ll politely maneuver around it.
“Are you happy?”
I let out a breath. “That’s more complicated than anything else you could ask!”
“Is it?”
“Yeah I-“ I shrug. “I don’t know if I am. But I also have no idea what I could do about it. So. There’s that.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” My stomach curdles with his words. I didn’t want pity, least of all from Harry. Harry. I can’t believe he was here. “I get it though. Everyone says your 30s are even more glorious than your 20s. We’ll see soon enough if they’re right.”
I meet his eye, they always intimidated me to look too long into. Even now, I glance back down at my drink. When I look up again he has a wry smile twisting his lips. He knew.
I was sorry to hear life hadn’t been as good for him. And then I understand, it wasn’t pity he was giving me. He truly was sorry like I.
I thought about Harry often. Of course I did. I liked to imagine him living out his dreams like he always talked about. I liked to imagine him happy and thriving.
“Do you ever think about us?” I have to ask. “If we did it all differently?”
“We would have had a 12 year old with us.”
Hearing him say it feels like someone had taken a screwdriver and opened me up. Raw and exposed. But looking at him I know he thought about her as much as I had. Both of us were apparently mourning a future neither of us had fought for.
“Yeah,” I breathe but I just sound winded.
“We were trying, at one point—Shan and I.” Harry fiddles with his ring. “Did all the tests and the trials and the shite. But no kids. It put a real strain on my relationship. I think we cracked instead of bending. And I don’t think either of us know how to make it right again.”
I grasp his hand and squeeze. “I know what that’s like. It’s hard. I…a couple years ago. I lost a baby. A baby boy. I felt like it was a punishment for-“
“Don’t.”
We hold onto each other, our drinks long forgotten. He holds my hand and it feels like being known again, like I wasn’t such an awful person. That someone could see everything I’ve done and still choose to have love for me.
“I’m sorry.” He tells me.
“Me too.” I bite my lip. With a sigh I let him go and lean back. Here we’d been so excited to bump into each other but we’d both been carrying sorrow and grief. It wasn’t very hopeful.
“So I guess you’re not drinking because you’re-“
“No.” I say, surprisingly without feeling awkward. “I’m just sober right now. Trying to figure out life without a drink.”
“Sounds like torture but I respect that. Sounds hard.”
“It was at first. I like the feeling now of thinking clearly. But I miss a glass of wine I do sometimes.”
We smile at each other.
“So do you live around here?” Harry broaches talking again after both of us had lapsed into silence for a while. I blink away the fog of the past.
“Yeah. You?”
“Nah. Shan’s out of town and I was feeling lonely. Came over to visit my sister. I’m just staying with her for the week.”
“Lucky me then.” I smile.
“Lucky me too.” He smiles back. It’s soft. We’re soft. It felt impossible to me after all this time the tenderness was still the strongest thing between us.
We chat a bit more, much about nothing. What we did for a job, anyone we still kept in touch with from school. Nothing that meant a lot.
“I need to head off now,” I say when my phone buzzes for a second time. “I was on my way to my mum’s. She keeps calling me.”
“Yeah. Don’t want to keep you.” Harry says but he stays seated. So do I.
We continue just studying the other until my phone rings again and I laugh. “It was…I really loved seeing you.”
I slide out and Harry mirrors me. I still come to his chest, he still smells the same and stands the same and looks just as handsome.
“How about uhm, how about dinner some time?” Harry asks. I knew it was coming, it’s still painful saying no.
“I…can’t. I…we can’t just do dinner, can we?”
“No,” Harry bows his head. We had too much history to just do dinner. From what he said—and I knew, both our lives were too complicated to add the allure of each other into the mix. I couldn’t do that to my life as tempted as I was. Especially not sober.
“Yeah.” He stands straight again and gives me space to head to the door. “Good seeing you. Give your mum my best if she doesn’t hate me.”
“She doesn’t.” I assure him. We stand awkwardly not sure if a kiss, a hug, or a wave was appropriate. We settle for a hug.
I remember the last time I was enveloped in his arms, tucked away into his tall frame. When we said goodbye forever, agreed to live our best lives separately. We’d both been too scarred to be anything together. Too much grief.
“Maybe we’ll run into each other again.” Harry smiles at me when we part.
“Maybe,” I say knowing full well I wouldn’t do groceries on the weekend anymore.
With a final wave we both part ways again, this time it doesn’t feel as much like closure.
Age 35.
“Graduation’s graduating, what a mouthful.” I say to Andie. We sit in the parking lot of a local pub back home. Both of us had avoided reunions after going to the first one 10 years ago and being reminded of how much people liked to remind you of who you used to be. But this year Andie found out an old flame was going and single. And this is the first year I saw that Harry had checked off going. So we’d decided to go together.
I could have easily reached out to him. Asked him about meeting up there. But I didn’t want to come across any way. I remember our run-in 6 years ago. We felt the same way—we would do anything for each other, and I didn’t want any affect over him coming. Last I heard he was still in a relationship. Just cuz I was didn’t mean I had to ruin another.
“Okay. We going in?” Andie passes me her flask.
I’d taken to drinking again. Originally I stopped after a particularly bad night when I was 28. It nearly cost me my wedding back then.
I stopped to get sober. To feel what it felt like not to rely on alcohol to keep from feeling my emotions. I had a lot of grief I never processed. And unfortunately being sober, and processing the grief and depression, had ultimately cost me my marriage. But I was better for it. I knew what unconditional love and support was. I didn’t want to settle for someone who only loved me at my best.
Now I felt in control when I drank. I knew when to stop.
“Let’s go!”
“Do you think he’ll remember me?” Andie asks as we walk up to the place.
“You comment on so many of his posts. I think he does.” I tease.
“Gah. It would have saved me so much heartbreak if I just told him back 18 years ago how I felt.”
“Maybe,” I think about my confessed love 18 years ago and the heartbreak that ensued.
“Well at least I would have gotten him outta my system. Oh god I see him-“
“Hi ladies,” we’re stopped near the front and given name tags, making small talk with the girls working the booth. I vaguely remember them from a club but I have to read their name tags to pretend I remembered them at all.
Andie ditches me pretty quickly but I don’t mind. I find some friends I saw a couple times a year. Guess this was the couple time this year.
The whole time my eyes scan the room. People had brought their partners and I wondered if Harry would do the same. Deep down, I prayed he didn’t. I just wanted to see him.
I spot him halfway through the night. He’s leaning against the bar talking to Khalil. I remembered they used to be friends, he was always nice to me while Harry and I dated.
I watch him talk and drink. I lose him for a bit and then catch him leaving. Shite.
I excuse myself and rush out but nearly trip over myself slowing down. He was just outside for a smoke break.
“When did that habit start?” I ask. He nearly jumps out of his skin.
“Fu-y/n you scared me.” He shakes his face dramatically, like he’s getting something off of it. I bite back a smile, he was pretty drunk. “When did you get here? I didn’t know you came to these things?”
“I don’t.” I correct him. I couldn’t tell him I came for him. “It was just the name of this reunion, Graduation’s graduating. How could I pass it up?”
This earns a laugh. Eases the air between us. “Did you see Oli in there? He’s gotten bald.”
“He looks like his dad actually,” I remember his dad was always coming to Oli’s football matches, screaming at his son to run faster.
“Glad you didn’t end up with him?” Harry smirks.
“Oh yeah. I heard last reunion he just kept going up for the karaoke sober. If I want my bloke to embarrass me, at least give him the excuse of being drunk.”
“Shit,” Harry laughs. “I remember that! I remember! Wish I could forget!”
I laugh with him. “Harry you’re getting pretty close to drunk yourself.”
“Ah yeah. More than 3 drinks that, I’m being naughty tonight.”
I scrunch my nose, no idea what he’s talking about.
“I can’t believe you’re here tonight,” Harry says again. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again for another 12 years after our last time.”
“Thought I’d halve the time.” I watch Harry squash out the butt.
“Glad you did.” He looks at me and I’m 17 again. Why couldn’t we both be single? Why did I come here knowing I couldn’t have him.
Maybe I was as masochistic as the person who invented maths.
“Yn?” A voice calls out to me. “Oi! It is you I thought I was dreaming you up! What a sight!”
I’d been avoiding Oli all night. Not anymore.
I glance at Harry and he hides a smirk. Oli notices Harry then and his face hardens a little.
“Oli! Long time!” I go in for the hug he’s reaching for, unsure why he was so sweaty on an autumn night. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he grins at me. “You look good! Not a day over 25.”
“Don’t flatter me Oli,” I roll my eyes. “It’s not going to get you anything.”
“I’m not looking! I swear it!” He says earnestly. “I’m just paying you a compliment. It’s good to see you. Hey, I’m actually in a good relationship. Gonna propose to her.”
“Are you? What’s she like?”
I stand in the brisk evening as Oli tells me about his girlfriend. I’m happy for him, what we had in high school wasn’t really a relationship but I never wished him bad. He was a good guy, I was glad he found his person.
I change the subject when he asks about my love life, tell him I was getting cold. We head back in and I tell him I’d catch up to him later. I’d lost Harry and wanted to find him again. I had more I wanted to talk about.
“Khalil,” I interrupt him playing pool. He goes in for a hug and I engage in polite small talk until I tire of it. “I’m looking for Harry.”
“Of course you are,” he wags a finger at me. “I saw him leaving ten minutes ago?”
“Jeez really?” I couldn’t believe I missed him! After coming here just for him. Maybe he had to get home, maybe he had a kid by now. Had to tuck him in.
“He’s not doing so well since the divorce-“
“What?” I stare at Khalil like he’s spoken gibberish. Why hadn’t I heard about that?
“Ehm yeah. He’s pretty private about it.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. He’s been separated a few years now but he just signed the papers a couple weeks ago. I dunno. He gets kinda depressed around this time of year. Probably the weather.”
It was September. It wasn’t the weather.
I had to find him.
I brush past the people I went to school with. I followed Harry outside to a roof 17 years ago and today I follow him out to find him again. We needed to talk.
I look both ways, hoping for a miracle.
I spot a figure slumped on the far end of the road. I recognize the church, it was where we went every Easter and Christmas growing up.
I walk towards the figure until I can make out the hair. It was Harry. Thank god.
“Why’d you leave?” I ask him when he looks up to my approaching footsteps.
“I drank too much,” he hangs his head again. I sit beside him.
“I heard about the divorce. I’m sorry.”
Harry shrugs. “We separated a while ago. It was coming for a long time.”
“Yeah. Still.” I say.
We sit in silence, the only sound is our breathing and the faint noises from the pub down the road.
“She’s in her last year by now.” I say without further explanation. I know he’d know.
“Our baby’s 17.”
Our baby? I feel choked up. All these years we’d been apart, built our own lives, and there was still an our even when there hadn’t been.
“It’s always been us hasn’t it?” Harry says. “Nobody understands.”
“They couldn’t. We were so young, making such a big decision.”
“Oh y/n.” He leans into me and I wrap my arm around his shoulder. He’s cold, his jacket pooled on the steps around him. I gather it to spread over his shoulder but he stops me. “How much heartbreak can you have in one lifetime?”
I sit, aching for the pain Harry was going through. Knowing it was mirrored in me.
“I’ve had enough for a lifetime. I know that.”
“Me too.” Harry sighs. “I miss you.”
“I’m right here.” I intertwine our hands. They still fit the exact same, all these years later. I examine them, but they looked the same too. I wonder if our baby girl ever looked at her hands, wondered who she inherited them from.
“D’you think she thinks about us?” Harry asks what I’m thinking.
“Maybe.” I say. “I like to think so. I just hope she doesn’t hate us for giving her up.”
“Yeah me too I think…” he hangs his head. I hear him sniffle. Seems like Harry hit the point of drinking where all you could feel is regret. I remember those days. I knew where he was.
When he doesn’t finish his sentence I fill the silence; “Me and Tatum split uh…four years ago now.” I update him. “You probably heard something about it. I remember my mum saying she ran into yours when it was happening. They probably talked all about it.”
I wait for Harry to give confirmation but he stays the way he is.
“I went sober a few years before then. Almost ruined our wedding cuz I was exactly where you were. Unprocessed grief and all I could do was drink about it. I’d given up a baby at 18, then lost a baby a decade later. It feels silly to say out loud, that something that never really came into this world—something the size of a fruit could act like the rock you push up the hill every morning. The grief you fight at your darkest times. How could we be haunted by something that didn’t even exist—not technically. But that’s just the way it was. And that’s the way it had to be when we were 18. I’m not always sure I made the right decision overall but I know it was a decision we had to make at the time. I’ve had to find my peace. So do you Harry.”
“Yeah. I-I have to. Y’know? Sometimes I wonder if I would have made her proud.” Harry sniffles. I had similar thoughts. My throat feels tight remembering. “I don’t think, right now, I would be.”
“She’s so loved. She is so loved Harry. Whatever…wherever she is.”
“I love you.” Harry turns to me. His face is raw with grief and emotion. “Never stopped loving you. But I don’t want to give you this version of me.”
“I’ll take any version of you Harry.” I reassure him. “I think we’ve seen too much of each other to be able to hide anything away.”
He tips forward slowly until his head rests on my chest. I hold him there, just like he’d done for me so many years ago. I tell him the type of thing that meant everything to me back then and I hope it helps him to hear it: “We’ll get through this Harry.”
***
“I don’t remember getting here.”
I look up from my book, Harry stands in my kitchen with a confused look on his face. It was weird seeing him here in my flat. But it was so right too.
“We walked home. I thought you sobered up.”
“Nuh-uh.” He takes a few steps towards me, hesitant.
“Coffee?”
“Maybe I’ll take a shower first?”
“First door on your right. Extra towels in the cupboard.”
“Thanks.”
We look at one another for a beat before he moves back. I make another pot of coffee and clean up from breakfast while he showers.
Next time he walks back in he looks a lot better. Smells nice too.
“Black please.” He says when I hold the coffee up.
I pour him a cup and watch him sip it.
“Thank you for last night.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him.
“I remember what you said to me. You’re right of course. I think I knew it, I just didn’t have anyone to talk to about it with. Nobody knew about us…”
“You didn’t have to keep it a secret ‘til this day Harry.” I was surprised he had. “You didn’t even tell any of your friends?”
“The only people who knew were my family, a-and Shan. But. Year after year it didn’t mean the same thing to her. I stopped talking to her about it pretty quickly. Think it made it worse because her and I couldn’t actually…”
“Yeah.” I understood.
“But I realized. I think it was losing both of you. I feel like you were taken away too. We just went from being around each other all the time to cold turkey. That was a loss too so…”
“Yeah.” Again, I understood.
“I’m 35. I’ve gotta…get my head on straight.”
I examine him. “Looks okay to me?”
He smiles and puts his cup down.
“I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.”
“Meh that was years ago. Hard then. Fine now. For the best.”
“I agree,” Harry moves around the table to stand where I am. My heart pulses just like it always does around him. He rests a hand on my hip, dragging it up to wrap around my waist. He must feel how hard my heart’s beating. “Did I tell you? That I love you?”
“Maybe?” I feel myself growing more present. The hole that always lived inside of me growing even smaller in this moment. It allows me to settle on the floor better; less air, more weight.
“Well I do. I love you. At 17, or at 35.” He says this with a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“Well. I love you.” I return the kiss, relish in the way his hand grips my tank. “At 17, or 35.”
“Sometimes I wish I held on tighter at 17. But I look at you now and I’m excited to get to know you again.”
His words pour over me like honey. It was sweet we were still on the same page.
“I’m not letting you go this time.” Harry whispers in my ear. He pulls me in tight, swaying from side to side. “I want to spend 41 and 50 with you. I want all of you, every side.”
“Perfect,” I peer up at him. “That’s exactly what I want too.”
“And maybe one day,” he continues in a hush voice. “We’ll get a call from a young girl. She’ll tell us all about her life in a town up north. About a picture she has of her mother dressed like her father and her father dressed like her mother.”
“She’ll tell us she’s had a good life, and she’s thought about the people in the picture. She’d tell us she wants to meet them.”
“We would be able to show her the love we kept for her. Our love’s like a venn diagram, the bit in the middle is just for her. She’d know why she was born in the first place.”
“Closure,” I whisper to him. “We would know closure.”
I remember the day she was taken, how the loss of not even being able to see her felt bigger than the loss of her itself back then.
I think of a 17 year old girl, with green eyes and brown hair. With my smile and Harry’s dimples. My hands, and Harry’s height. She was loved by people, families, that she didn’t even know existed yet.
They say if you love something, let it go. If it’s meant to be it’ll come back.
As Harry and I stay intertwined in the kitchen of my flat, I send out a wish into the universe for her like I did most days. That she was healthy, happy, and one day curious enough to seek us out. That one day, she would come back.
Right now I focus on the man in my arms. The one I never thought I’d get to hold again. For now this was all I needed. I’d loved him, let him go, and after so many years apart, we were back.
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taocard · 8 months
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Jealousy of Mine
♡ I grant a wish for whoever summons me and take one thing as a payment ♡ 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Scaramoiche/Wanderer/Kunikuzushi
𝐬𝐰𝐨'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: highschool au. lazily proofread. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scara, who's that classmate of yours that's always picking on you one way or another. whether it's calling you names, starting competitions, or taking your last piece of gum before a math final. you, who doesn't back down from a fight when you see it and call him names right back, smirking when you get a higher grade than him, and even going as far as taking his wallet so you can buy a soda can from the vending machine. all he knows is he hates you. he hates that smile of yours. he hates it when you talk to him when no one else will. he hates how you have specific nicknames just for him. he hates all of it. ...so why is he getting all protective over you when he sees some random bullies shoving you in a locker because you couldn't shut your big ass mouth. he finds you in the boy's locker room, in his locker, and opens it, cringing as he does so. "are you a fucking creep this is low even for you..." his words trail off into silence when he sees bruises on your arms and his brows knit into a frown. he grabs your wrist and yanks you out of the locker, demanding to know who did this. he's pissed. not at you. but because someone dared to do to you what he does. only he's allowed to do stuff like this to you. only he's allowed to be mean to you. no one else. "aww, is someone getting soft for me?" you hum with a lazy smirk. you feel his grip on your wrist tighten and you hiss. "Scara can you loosen the grip there? i just got shoved in a damn locker give me a pause." "just shut up for two seconds will you and give me the damn names?" "why should i tell you" "i swear to god if i have to ask again" anddddddd you two already bickering again. Scara, who takes you to the nurse's office to get you an ice pack, and when you finally tell him the names he goes so nonchalant it was a complete contrast to when he was questioning you. "oh. those guys. really?" his arms are crossed and he's leaning against the wall while you put the ice pack against your cheek that was bruised. "they're so weak. surprised you couldn't have done anything, guess you really are a worm" hmm. so he's not freaking out. it seems he's not that concerned anymore. until the next day rolled around and the people who shoved you in the locker were missing from school. "yeah they never got home last night. don't you find that weird?" you asked Scara, who sat right beside you. "nah, that group was rumored to be taking drugs or something late at night. so they must've stayed out for longer this time," he replied, bored. "mm. makes sense." and it slips from your mind. forgetting they never made it home and they were no longer people in your life. sometimes, Scara will rant to an unlucky victim about what an "uggo" you are cause you pissed him off. it was an unlucky victim because the key was to just stay silent. don't agree or disagree during Scara's fit. and they did not stay silent because they just had to have an opinion. "they're so annoying! that uggo really thinks she's all that! her looks match her horrible personality. and she barely has any manners and just wants to start shit with me!" not exactly true. since he was the one who took her erasure so now she took three of his pencils that had an erasure on it. and, she wasn't really planning on giving them back. "and she was wearing these heels that made her taller than me and were too loud-" "yn? ugly?" Scara's heart seemed to stop at those words from the guy next to him. "I think she's quite attractive though?" Scara completely froze at this point, trying to comprehend what this complete nobody was even saying. "she's also nice. she gave me her lunch money the other day and saved me the starvation. i wonder why you would hate-" "what?" Scara was glaring at the person, his eyes glowing with...anger? no..it wasn't that. it was jealousy. Scara crossed his arms with a 'hmph' and looked ahead at the board, looking very upset.
the person was left confused and just went back to talking to his friend nearby, but little did he know Scara was spiraling in his mind. if this kid ended up getting close to you and would eventually break your heart because that's what people do in relationships, wouldn't he be putting you through pain? a nobody like him putting you through pain just like those bullies. why does everyone seem to want to hurt you? only he's allowed to hurt you don't they know this? you're his. to bully. to hurt. to wound. to yell at. and he's kind enough to give you breaks once in a while and look after your health. and he would help put you back together each time. he would take care of you. but they wouldn't. they don't care. and thats how this kid next to him. who said nothing bad at all. became a threat to Scara and your world just like those bullies did. Scara, who later that evening has a knife to the classmates throat in a deserted place with no eye witnesses, and was threatening him. this guy was going to take you away from him and hurt you. he had to prevent that didnt he? there was cuts on the guys arms, legs, a few on his cheek, and maybe a bruise forming on his stomach where scara currently put pressure on with his foot. he looked down at the pleading victim. "so you'll leave them alone? you won't talk to her ever again?" "yes yes! i'm sorry i won't speak of her or go within a 7-foot radius of her! im sorry! a-and i won't tell anyone about this! so you can get exactly what you want!" what a wuss. this was so damn boring. "hmm"
the guy under him seemed relieved, thinking Scara was going to say yes. "actually..." Scara put the knife under the guy's chin, making them force eye contact. "i think i don't wanna do that. everyones bound to break their promises. better safe than sorry, don't you think?" the guys face dropped and was going to yell but... "sorry not sorry," he said, making a swift cut across the guy's neck. Scara looked down at the lifeless body and groaned at the thought of your annoying complaining. you'd probably whine and say "this isnt right!" he goes on to hide the body. it'll surely save him the headache. he was used to it. Scara has only done it a few times. even before the bullies. one time it was actually a teacher, that was actually an interesting threat he dealt with. teenagers were just boring compared to adults it seemed.
he put all the threats where they belonged. buried and dead in different parts of the woods. he even had to separate the bullies' body parts since they were so big. don't you see how much work you are putting him through?? strangely enough, the victim's words echoed in his head. y/n? ugly? I think they are quite attractive though? ...then you came to mind. smiling whenever you did something right. that cute pout you had when he beat you in sports. and those times you'd steal his wallet to get soda but you'd always bring him a snack or drink too. ...ah. "damn it" he murmured. Scara placed his forehead on the handle of the shovel, blushing. as far as he's concerned. you were average. and you gave him more work to do than he'd initially like to put himself through. if anyone saw him, they would feel highly uncomfortable and even call him mad. he had a splotch of blood on his cheek. some dirt on his hands. and a body on the ground in front of him that he was currently covering with the shovel. and he was blushing over a girl.
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marriedtobigfoot · 1 year
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A lot of people love to talk about teacher!Steve and I've seen people speculate about him teaching History, or English or Gym. But hear me out...Art Teacher.
Steve Harrington, who took art as an elective in highschool thinking it would be an easy grade, but who ends up actually really enjoying it. He likes the satisfaction of making something and the methodical process of doing it. Later in life he knows he wants to work with kids, but he doesn't think he would be happy trying to teach any of the core subjects like math or English, he never cared for them much himself, and even the classes he liked he wasn't super skilled in. Then he thinks back to that art class, remembers how much he enjoyed himself, and he finds himself taking classes towards a teaching degree a few months later.
After a while, Steve finds himself with a job teaching art at a local middle school. He loves it. He loves working with the kids, even though most of them are little assholes. Apparently, that isn't unique to the party. All young kids are kind of assholes. But they're also funny, and they put thought into the projects he gives them. He always gives them a lot of wiggle-room creatively, giving assignments that focus on certain techniques like painting or working with clay, but allowing them to choose the subject matter themselves. He works alongside them, making his own little projects. He isn't VanGogh by any means, but he kind of likes that. It helps show his students that they can have fun with the art and really make something they can be proud of without worrying about it being perfect or looking like something they would see in a museum. His students adore him. They tease him and make fun of him, but at the end of the day, almost every student who takes his class ends up raving about it to their friends. Parents he meets on occasion love him too. And only partially because he looks hot as hell with his glasses and his paint-stained apron.
At the end of a project, he has everyone go around and talk about what they made. He isn't picky. They can talk about their favorite part of making it, the story behind it, why they chose certain colors, and parts they struggled with. Any little bit of extra information about the project is enough to get the points. He wasn't expecting them to rope him into it when he first started. Now, he fully expects the questions they ask whenever he shows off a project with them.
The first project is charcoal drawings, and Steve draws a weird looking bat with a crazy mouth and no eyes. He tells the class that a bunch of his family play DND, and they have really vivid imaginations. It isn't a lie.
Next they do sand-art and Steve makes a set of patterns comprised of bright, vivid colors. Oranges and pinks and greens. He tells the class it represents his best friend, who is one of his favorite people in the world. A week later he tells the class that he showed her the sand art and she declared it the ugliest thing she had ever seen, then proceeded to hang it in her room with a bright smile on her face.
During the sculpting unit, he makes a homemade mug, with little fish carved on the side. He tells the class his father-in-law collects mugs, and this one is going to be a birthday gift.
The class seemed to like sculpting, so he does a unit on wire-art. He makes a small wire guitar and a wire ring. The class ask, with shit eating grins, if he's got somebody he's planning on proposing to. He happily tells them he already proposed, this ring is just for fun, since his partner loves to wear them.
Steve's small apartment fills up over the years with tons of art projects gifted to him by his students, paintings and drawings hanging on the walls, and a whole bookshelf dedicated to the 3D work. He remembers that first part class he took sometimes, back when he was just a sad kid who's friends were all assholes, he was a bit of an asshole himself, who didn't know that horrible things existed just under his feet. He thinks back on it fondly enough, but he couldn't be happier that he isn't that kid anymore. He's pretty damn pleased being the teacher now.
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queenofapeacefuldawn · 3 months
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SPY × Family: Chapter 93 analysis
this is my first time doing something like this, and I'm no expert so please take my analysis with a grain of salt! all of this is my own theories, so you might disagree with me. please don't be mean, though (also, long post incoming!)
SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 93 UNDER THE CUT
The chapter opens with the Eden kids getting the results of their marks, with Anya's...
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overall rank shooting up, from 213th to 168th. Showing how she's slowly adjusting to the school and its pace of learning, despite being younger than everyone else (and, also, presumably doing extremely advanced things.... I remember seeing the pythagorean theorem on the board once in the anime)
Damian got highest in History (good job, buddy!), and Anya got second-highest in Classical Language (the one exam she genuinely studied hard for). But what I want to focus on is her expression:
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Shock. She'd put up that front (that fake-face, if you will) in front of Becky, Damian, Emile and Ewen, pretending to be all cool and suave but when she sees her results, she's genuinely surprised to get good marks in Classical Language. And even her excited reaction. She was scared of disappointing Twilight (and maybe even Sigmund and Barbara) because she'd genuinely worked hard for this exam, tried to understand, and gave it her best attempt.
But, then, it all comes crashing down with her 24 points in math: but a win is a win!
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Maybe this is Twilight's turning point in the fact that acquiring knowledge can be interesting, exciting, and not just a tool of survival? Twilight himself doesn't have a great relationship with studying, (see: his father scolding him as a child for not studying, later: his friends dying because he didn't know enough about the campaign they were going on... but Twilight's relationship with knowledge and its pursuit is a whole other post in itself).
Honestly, him realising that Anya is actually thriving in the setup where education is fun for her, opens up two new avenues:
Twilight himself trying to make learning fun for Anya (unlikely, he tried that before... it didn't work.)
Him leaning on Sigmund and Barbara to tutor Anya (this seems more likely- Endo is probably going to cement the Authens as recurring characters, so them being Anya's surrogate grandparents/neighbors/tutors would seem like a great way to do so!
And then...
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My main focus is on the fact that he mumbles this (also his face. But that's irrelevant). Twilight may claim, "I don't understand children", but he's an extremely perceptive man. As much as I love to clown on him, he's highly skilled at picking up on cues of people's feelings. The few times he's failed are mostly due to Anya's shenanigans trying to hide her telepathy, mixed with his usual flavour of overthinking.
But the couple of things he knows about Anya are this:
She was probably raised in an environment where Classical Language was used.
She's not fond of talking about or remembering her past.
Which is why he didn't have the heart to fully sound out the question. In the case of Anya, this is an extremely delicate matter, and he doesn't want to upset her (or, in his words, "ruin Operation Strix.") The way he asked the question and it's portrayed made it feel like he'd been pondering on it for quite a while (which he has; since the beginning of the Cruise Arc), but more so usually. Most likely due to her high marks in the Classical Language tests (aka a dead language), and the fact that she got excellent marks in it, despite formally studying it for less than a year (at least, as far as he (and we) know.) He's been thinking of the possibility, and also thinking of a way to ask her. In the end, when he does ask her—
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she lies.
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and he lets her. (at least, that's my interpretation)
Obviously, he knows she's not ready to speak about it yet (though we know it's probably connected to her telepathy, so she's not ready to divulge that info).
Look, as much as I love talking about how clueless he is with his own feelings, in this scene, he was just... perceptive? I don't know if that's the right word. But he was trying to keep Anya happy, and bringing up this complex topic without ensuring proper care for her wouldn't be fair to her. And he knows that. So, he leaves it at, "Just forget about it, okay?"
This entire scene felt so... tense, and in itself felt like a fucking gut punch, so I don't know how I'll react to the reveal.)
And now, onto the main focus of the chapter:
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him.
If I'm being honest, I thought Demetrius was, like, 16-19 (judging by his voice in the anime), and not... fucking twelve.
Honestly, that just makes his character all the more tragic: he's barely a teenager, and yet... he's going through this. From his awards ceremony, we can see that he got, what, 6 stellas? In addition to the eight he's gotten to be an Imperial Scholar, and if he performs this well in every exam... bro is literally hoarding the Stella supply of the school (sorry, bad joke).
But...
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this panel comes up. It's definitely not Anya's telepathy malfunctioning, (heck, it works on Bond and even penguins). Honestly, I think, again, it could be one of two things:
He was experimented on, like Anya
He was trained, (most likely by Donovan), to keep his mind blank.
We're told that he and Donovan had an extremely close relationship:
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This could be in support of both the theories: it could be Donovan checking up on his "experiment's" progress (a crude term to refer to him), or, it could have been him subconsciously training Demetrius to hide his thoughts, keep them safe. Anya's project is connected to Desmond's administration, and at the time she was "made", Demetrius would have been around 7 or 8. Old enough for him to figure out what he wanted to have been in life (ofc, that's different for everyone! It takes time, and 8 is an extremely young age to figure out what one wants to do). But, like, how Damian wants to be a politician, it's most likely that Demetrius, the prodigal, studious, first child, would have to follow the path of politics laid before him.
So it could have been Donovan teaching Demetrius to protect his sensitive thoughts from the "weapons" he himself was making: the test subject(s) of Anya's project (again, a crude term to refer to them). Donovan was putting a lot of faith into creating telepaths (most likely for covert work), and them having unwavering loyalty to his administration was not very likely.
And, even if Anya's project was the work of another administration or even country, there's no doubt that Donovan would want to keep his thoughts hidden from these kinds of spies: ones than can see into your very mind, especially if the world is at war: a physical battle or a war for information.
The first theory of Demetrius himself being a test subject is probably Not What Happened; so I think it's probably just Demetrius being trained to keep his thoughts hidden.
But then, we get some of his thoughts:
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Which is a lot reminiscent of:
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So, it's probable that Demetrius imbibed this from his dad.
It's honestly a bit scary to see how Donovan's "parenting" has affected him: for him, age 12, to be like this.
After this, the chapter ends lightheartedly: Anya trying to emulate Demetrius, and Loid Being Tired™️.
I'm mostly curious about Demetrius: I was so excited when he was finally revealed! But I hope we get to see more of his thoughts, soon. Especially more about his relationship with Damian. But, this chapter was fantastic!
(This was super fun to do- if i do posts like this for chapters as they come out, would you all like it? Again, I'm not an expert in psychology (or even analysis). It's just me and my silly lil thoughts. I hope you liked it!)
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nqmonarch · 2 months
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Valentines Day w/ HSR Characters!
Doing Calc homework and am very stressed, i can feel it everywhere in my body. the math is just not mathing mentally today (i looked at trigonometric identities today so maybe thats why)
Just writing out some messy ideas to take a break
Btw if u sent in a request and I haven't answered it yet I am working on it thank you for your uh question ask thingy i appreciate it, i like to know what people like to read bcus tbh i like to write anything altho jingyuan gets like +10 points cus he fluffy
Valentines Day With Some HSR Characters (Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Stelle)
Jing Yuan
Jing Yuan is old school romantic. You cannot tell me he wouldn't arrive home with a big bouquet of roses (does HSR even have roses?) and 20 other gifts, including but not limiting to boxes of chocolate, teddy bears, and at least one gag gift. There's gotta be at least one, he'd make a dad joke out of it too.
Then he'd reserve one of the best restaurants on the Luofu and bring you there. He'd probably have booked a private room, thank goodness because no one wants to hear the general continuously compliment you until you're a puddle on the floor. What he is best at is attacks. But if he gets a compliment in return he'll freeze up for a moment before playfully returning it.
Jing Yuan doesn't put on his normal coy facade today, instead he just embraces how much he loves you because he's happy to still have you in his life.
Blade
Blade does not know it's Valentine's Day. It's not his fault, cut him some slack. Anyway Kafka probably reminds him that it's Valentine's Day about half way through the day to which he goes into a silent panic. You can't tell he's panicking he's just staring at the wall with a blank face, he actually looks like he wants to murder someone.
The two of you end up celebrating though! He... pulls something together, it really is something. Sure he smells like blood and the waiters are scared, and taking over this restaurant for a Valentine's Day dinner was definitely not in the script but... It could be worse. He's trying his best, really.
Afterwards you and Blade share lots of cuddles! Something he's pretty good at! Holding you just tight enough, and keeping you close to his side-- you just won't be able to get up if you want to get water or anything. He doesn't say too much but you can feel the love in each caress.
Dan Heng
Dan Heng doesn't really like going out, why would he when all he needs is right by his side? So the two of you stay on the express in the archives. What matters isn't where you are but the company. He'd probably get you a few trinkets from different places he's collected over the years, a necklace, a sick looking compass, whatever fits your vibe.
Dan Heng would probably also write you a love poem, and make you read it or awkwardly recite it in front of you. If you read it out loud though he will get unbelievably embarrassed and snatch it away from you. He'd give it back but he'd take some coaxing, be nice okay? His face is already red.
Then when the night draws to a close the two of you would curl up together on that sorry excuse of what he calls a bed. The majority of your body would be on Dan Heng's using him as a pillow, and his arms would be wrapped around your body keeping you still and warm.
Dan Heng's bed is not it man. Personally, I'd get back problems.
Stelle
"You are the one who deserves the golden trash the most," Truly romantic words from Stelle as she hands you a golden trashbag. That is just the first of the gifts she gives you tonight, and the one that's most valuable to her. It's the thought that counts right? You still have no idea what she's talking about when she mentions fighting Sampo as a trashcan...
The two of you spend a romantic night together, walking down the quiet streets of Belobog, and-- did Stelle just investigate a trashcan again? You should be used to this. On the bright side, every time she gets something cool she comes up to you with the biggest smile on her face, it's beyond adorable. Sometimes the trashcans even have good stuff, like a scarf Stelle lets you wear that thankfully doesn't smell like trash.
It's just good to spend time with the person you love. She spends her time catching you up on everything new from her adventures, and when it's too cold to stay out any longer the two of you head to the Astral Express. Where you shower together and then doze off on one of the Express' couch cushions while playing games. Your head rests against Stelle's reminding you, you're never alone.
Okay I need to get back to homework, fun break thanks guys. Imagine being alone on Valentines Day couldn't be me, I have my Calc Homework. It told me I was integral to it <3 legit peak partner material.
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the-guilty-writer · 2 months
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LOVE LOVE LOVEEE SPENCERS DAUGHTER WITH POTS!!! could I request more pretty please 🙏🙏
Spencer Reid x daughter!reader with POTS
Most people thought that dysautonomia was just your heart rate rising and falling at rapid rates and the occasional syncope, but it was far more than that.
Today, it was the brain fog that was giving you the most trouble. Your thoughts were hazy and slow, as was your vision. The sensation itself wasn't just annoying, but had reached the level of being borderline painful. To make things worse, you had homework to finish and a clouded mind wasn't ideal when learning pre-calculus.
Your dad sat in the large leather chair in the corner, rapidly reading a book in a language you recognized as Russian. Normally, Spencer got lost in his reading, but he couldn't ignore the long, drawn-out groan coming from the direction of the kitchen table.
You had placed your arms on the table to cushion your head, hiding your face from his view. All around you were papers with problems that would have been complex for the average person, but were nothing more than simple mental math for your genius father.
He set his book down and made his way over to you, setting a gentle hand on your shoulder once he reached you.
"Do you need help?" he asked kindly.
"You already explained it to me earlier today," you said, voice muffled by your arms. Your brain fog was normally intermittent, but this week it had been persistent. It made retaining information difficult. When you got home from school, your dad helped you with your studies - explaining things again, sometimes at a slower rate, with breaks in between to rest and recharge. It was normally very helpful in ensuring you didn't get too far behind, but your brain seemed to be too full of fog to make room for any new information.
"Why don't you take an early bed time?" Spencer suggested. "You probably need it."
"This is due tomorrow morning." If you had the energy to cry, you might have, but even shedding tears was too much for your body to handle at the moment.
Spencer looked down at the papers scattered about the table. It was obvious to him that you'd been trying and you understood the work. Nothing was wrong with you; the brain fog was getting in the way of execution.
He kissed the top of your head gently. "Don't worry about it. I'll write you a note."
"Are you sure?" you looked up at him with exhausted eyes.
"I'm sure." Your dad helped you get out of your chair and to your bedroom, giving you a tight hug before saying goodnight.
He scrolled a note on a piece of paper, explaining the situation to your teacher, and leaving his number in case they had any questions. Even though Your dad valued academics, he valued your health and happiness far more.
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