#future of education conference

[healconferences]

Witness the future of worldwide education evolve! Grow your learning network. Unleash new learning opportunities and network with top educators worldwide Attend the Global Education Conferences at HEal Conferences in Las Vegas, 2024. Enhance your network and increase your understanding about global education tendencies. Mark your calendars today

[falllpoutboy]

https://x.com/fatfabfeminist/status/1704831795798155630?s=46

when teachers complain about students being passed on to the next grade when they’re obviously behind on grade level by two+ years/grades, why do parents automatically point their fingers at their teachers lmao?? yes students missed up to 1.5-2 years in face-to-face learning due to the pandemic and the remote learning policies depending on their location so now that they’re back for in-person learning like we’re just doing our job and teaching them to the best of our abilities, but due to the curriculum and the policies in place (depending on where you live obvs), we have no choice but to pass them on. teachers make attempts to bring attention to a student’s attendance and grades to their parents but if the parents can’t follow up on the emails we send, the phone calls we make, the voicemails we leave and the parent-teacher conferences requests we send, then that sends a clear message that you don’t care about your kids education beyond the bare fucking minimum.

we get it, parents are busy and have jobs and other priorities and every parent and student has a different story. but if your kid is 12 y/o and is in the 7th grade and is reading/writing at a 4th grade level, is incapable of reading a 200 page novel and goes straight to tiktok or to their ps5 immediately after school, then we are not the problem!!!

[jcmarchi]

Signal processing: How did we get to where we’re going?

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/signal-processing-how-did-we-get-to-where-were-going/

Signal processing: How did we get to where we’re going?

On May 24, Ford Professor of Engineering Al Oppenheim addressed a standing-room-only audience at MIT to give the talk of a lifetime. Entitled “Signal Processing: How Did We Get to Where We’re Going?”, Oppenheim’s personal account of his involvement in the early years of the digital signal processing field included a photo retrospective — and some handheld historical artifacts — that showed just how far the field has come since its birth at MIT and Lincoln Laboratory. Hosted by Anantha Chandrakasan, chief innovation and strategy officer, dean of engineering, and the Vannevar Bush Professor of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, the event included a lively Q & A, giving students the chance to gain Oppenheim’s insight about the trajectory of this ever-growing field.

Play video

Al Oppenheim: “Signal Processing: How did we get to where we’re going?”

Al Oppenheim received a ScD degree in 1964 at MIT and is also the recipient of an honorary doctorate from Tel Aviv University. During his career, he has been a member of the Research Laboratory of Electronics and closely affiliated with MIT Lincoln Laboratory and with the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution. His research interests are in the general area of signal processing algorithms, systems, and applications. He is co-author of the widely used textbooks “Digital Signal Processing,” “Discrete-Time Signal Processing” (currently in its third edition), “Signals and Systems” (currently in its second edition), and most recently “Signals, Systems & Interference,” published in 2016. He is also the author of several video courses available online. He is editor of several advanced books on signal processing. Throughout his career he has published extensively in research journals and conference proceedings.

Oppenheim is a member of the National Academy of Engineering, an IEEE Life Fellow, and has been a  Guggenheim Fellow in France and a Sackler Fellow in Israel. He has received a number of IEEE awards for outstanding research, teaching, and mentoring, including the IEEE Kilby Medal; the IEEE Education Medal; the IEEE Centennial Award; the IEEE Third Millennium Medal; the Norbert Wiener Society award; and the Society, Technical Achievement, and Senior Awards of the IEEE Society on Acoustics, Speech and Signal Processing; as well as a number of research, teaching, and mentoring awards at MIT.

[dronacharyagroupofinstitutions]

International Conference on “Sustainable practices in Technology, Management and Education

First Year B.tech and MBA students of Dronacharya Group of Institutions, Greater Noida presented the paper in an International Conference on “Sustainable practices in Technology, Management and Education : Building a Resilient Future (SPTME 2023)’’ at the Global Educational Institute on 30th -31st October 2023.

The aim of the Conference is to gather the experts, scientists, engineers, researchers and students that deal with Information Technology, Management and Education Practices.

[eddiesghxst]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU

credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader

summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you

contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3

word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)

-masterlist-

Eddie might be way in over his head.

Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.

It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.

“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”

Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.

Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.

Jesus.

“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”

Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job. 

Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.

Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.

Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day! 

Good riddance.

Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.

Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now. 

And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.

Whatever.

Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”

Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.

One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”

Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.

So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.

She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.” 

“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.

Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”

Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.

How hard can it be?

Apparently pretty fucking hard.

It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.

People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”

“Huh?”

“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”

Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”

“Good. You’re late.”

Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.

The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.” 

It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.

“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with. 

Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”

Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”

Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.

Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”

Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”

Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.

You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.

Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!

“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”

Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.

“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”

Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.” 

The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”

The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.

You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”

Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”

And, well, she’s not wrong.

Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.

But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.

You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.

“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”

You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”

You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.

He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.

It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.

Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”

You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.

"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."

It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap. 

You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.

You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.

"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”

You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”

Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”

You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.

You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.

And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you. 

"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.

Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.

“Let’s have a shot from the back.” 

Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him. 

“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.” 

Jesus.

You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.

Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.

God, who is this man?

You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.

You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.

And it's fun doing this with Eddie.

Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for. 

But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”

And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.

You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.

You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”

You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.

You might buy this film just to relive it.

You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”

It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.

You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”

You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”

Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.

You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks. 

You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.

Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.

You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”

Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”

You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.

You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.

“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room. 

“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”

A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.

Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.

Suck that, Robert.

However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.

You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”

Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”

You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods. 

“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” 

Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”

You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”

Oh.

Ohhhh.

“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.

You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.

Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.” 

You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.

He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”

God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.

Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”

You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”

God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.

You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”

“You’re still weird.”

Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”

Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.

Eddie nods, “Shoot.”

You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?

“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”

You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”

Eddie could leap for joy right now.

Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.

Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.

“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”

God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?

Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—” 

“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?” 

Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.

Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.

“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!

“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”

Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.

Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”

Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.

Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.

He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door. 

Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.

Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.

It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has. 

“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”

You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”

The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.

You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”

Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.

He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.

“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.

You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.

Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.

Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?” 

Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.

Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”

You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”

“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”

You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”

And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.

After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.

You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.

You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee. 

It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.

The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.

Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.

“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”

Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”

Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?” 

Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.

“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”

Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”

“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”

Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.

But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.

Eddie just thinks you’re neat. 

He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.

He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him. 

The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.

Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.

It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.

“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”

Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.

What a buzz kill.

Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.” 

You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.

“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”

Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”

You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”

The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.

You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.

“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.

Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.

Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.

“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.

You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.

Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.

Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.

Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.

Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.

His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine. 

He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.

“So good, princess—”

“Cut!”

You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into. 

These fucking cameras.

You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.

“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.

Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.

It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.

You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.

And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.

He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”

“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.

You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”

Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”

You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?” 

Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes. 

Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.

He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.

You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”

And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.

Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does. 

Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.

He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”

Shit.

God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.

“No.”

It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock. 

“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.

You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”

And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.

You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”

And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”

He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.

You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.

You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.

Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.

And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.

You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.

Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.

He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.

You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”

Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.

Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.

You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.

Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.

Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.

He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”

You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though. 

“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.

Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”

You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”

Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.

You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.

You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.

Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.

Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.

It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”

Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”

You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.” 

And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!

“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”

No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.

Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.

It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.

“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.

You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.

It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.

The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.

It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.

And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.

Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.

Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.

Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them. 

Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.

The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows. 

“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.

And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.

Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping. 

“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.

Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.

He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.

Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.

“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.

Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.

The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.

Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.

He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.

You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.

And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”

So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.

And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.

He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right. 

Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.

Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.

The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.

“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.” 

Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.

Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”

Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it. 

And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.

Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?

Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”

Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.

But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—

“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.

You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.

You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.

The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.

Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.

Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”

Eddie tries not to let that get to his head. 

He fails.

The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.

The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.

Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”

Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”

And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle. 

And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.

“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”

Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”

And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.

“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”

You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.

————

a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3

————

cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside

[astrocafecoffee]

Destiny Matrix

(predicting some events of your life and characteristics of your fs)

• For entertainment purposes only, enjoy •

•☞ Masterlist

Guys, destiny matrix chart is So gorgeous 😭 , I fell in love. I am new to this, but it's so fascinating, so I am sharing with you guys. Obviously I learnt a lot from ann_matrix_destiny insta page. I explained some of her work here, rest is mine.

✨What is Destiny matrix chart?

-A spiritual and metaphysical chart that reveals a person's life path, soul purpose, and potential.

✨How is it calculated?

-Based on a person's birth date, using a complex system of numerology and astrological correspondences.

💫 How to see some important events of your life?

see this area(perimeter line)of your chart , this will explain many important events of your life.

💚Age of getting married/ meeting with your significant other/ spouse:

- look at your age in your chart, if you see 3,5,6,19,20 at the top of your age then at that age you will get married/ meet your significant other/ start a family. Like in this chart I have shown above '5' is top of the age of 23.5- 24, so this individual will meet their spouse at that age/ get married.

• Going through Transformation in your life :

- if you see 13 or 16 at the top of your age , then at that age your life will drastically change/ you will go through a huge transformation of your life. You will change your location/ your career/ will shift to another country or city.

⚡Moving abroad/ travelling:

If you see 7,10,21,22 above your age then this is the best age for travelling or going abroad.

if you find 21 in your love line(circled part)then most probably you will marry a foreigner.

And if you find 7, 10 , 21 or 22 in this positions then most probably you will go abroad/ find your partner there .

Now , the future spouse part : -

💖 Hints about your future partner :

Look at the number below the heart symbol to know about your future partner. In this chart it's 21.

So, let's explain each numbers -

•Number 1: The magician

- creative and innovative

- skilled and talented

- confident and charismatic

- however they may also struggled with over - confidence and arrogance.

- gemini / Virgo zodiac sign placements

- profession : musicians, writer, public speaker, coaches and mentors , scientist, entrepreneur, marketing and advertising professionals.

- meeting: conference or seminar, art galleries, meuseum, workshop or studio, networking events or industry conference, class or training session.

• Number 2 : High Priestess

- intuitive and wise

- mysterious and enigmatic

- maybe quiet and reserved.

- soft spoken and considerate.

- cancer zodiac sign placements.

- profession: councillors, therapists, psychologist, Nurse or healthcare professionals, social workers, spiritual leaders, energy workers.

- meeting: secret or private settings, libraries, coaching, weddings , meeting in the context of any spiritual retreats.

• Number 3 : Empress

- Full of life , energy and vitality.

- encouraging others to grow and flourish.

- committed, dedicated and faithful.

- Taurus and Libra zodiac sign placements.

- profession: fashion designer , sculptors, teachers and educators,event planer, environmentalists, musicians, healthcare.

- meeting through : parties, gatherings, festival, fair, creative workshops, artistic projects ,meuseum, concerts.

• Number 4 : Emperor

- Natural born leader, authoritative, commanding.

- makes tough decisions with clarity and conviction.

- commited to family and responsibilities.

- zodiac sign: Aries placements.

- profession: executive, CEO, leader or manager, military officer, architect, Engineer, government officials, buisness owner.

- meeting : buisness meeting, job interviews, formal events , official ceremonies.

• Number 5 : Hierophant

- values established customs, rituals, and institutions.

- upholds ethical standards and moral principles.

- prioritise stability and security over change and uncertainty.

- Taurus zodiac sign placements

- profession: spiritual leaders and mentors, councellor , advisor or consultants, traditional healers or healthcare professionals.

- meeting: spiritual or religious gatherings, traditional ceremonies or rituals, educational and training sessions , counciling or therapy sessions, church,temples , mosques.

• Number 6 : The lovers

- collaborative, work well others.

- empathetic and aware of others feelings.

- true to themselves and their values.

- zodiac sign: Gemini placements.

- profession: counselors, coaches , writer , journalist, artist, musicians, public speaker, philosophers , scientist, researchers.

- meeting : social getherings or parties , creative or artistic collaboration, Beauty or fashion events , community or networking meeting.

• Number 7 : The chariot

- Determined, self disciplined.

- ability to overcome any obstacles and setbacks

- has clear direction

- zodiac : cancer placements

- profession: nurses , social worker, military, architect, psychologist, chefs , nutritionist, hospitality professionals.

- Meeting: family gatherings, home or domestic settings, caregiving or helping professions.

• Number 8 : strength

- courageous, brave , have inner strength.

- has capacity to forgive and let go.

- has self discipline and self control.

- zodiac sign: leo placements

- profession: artist , designer, performers , public speaker, motivator, executives, philanthropist, teacher, councellor, athletes, trainers.

- meeting: park or garden, fitness or wellness center, creative studio or art space, festivals, social gatherings.

• Number 9 : Hermit

- quiet, reflective, and introspective often preferring to spend time alone

- serves as guide or mentor

- discerning and concious about every step they take.

- zodiac sign: Virgo placements.

- profession: therapist, counselors,teachers , coaches , writers, editors, healthcare industry, social worker.

- meeting: therapists or counselor office, library , spiritual or religious sanctuary, coffee shop , book store.

• Number 10 : wheel of fortune

- flexible, able to adjust to changing circumstances.

- believes in destiny

- have philosophical outlook on life.

- zodiac sign: Taurus, leo, scorpio, Aquarius placements.

- profession: life coach, astrologer, environmentalists, entrepreneur, investors, historians.

- meeting: a farm , airport, bus station, temple, monastery, party,park , near mountain or river.

• Number 11 : Justice

- impartial and balanced

- they make descision based on reason and logics.

- have strong sense of morality and ethics.

- zodiac sign: Libra placements

- profession: lawyer, judge, counselors, social worker, activists, advocate, journalist, analyst , or spiritual leader.

- meeting: courthouse, law office, government building, council chamber, community centre, places of worship, philosophical organization.

• Number 12 : Hanged Man

- they are reflective , look inward for answers.

- they are open to new settings.

- courageous, deep understanding of themselves.

- zodiac sign: Pisces placements

- profession : spiritual leaders, therapist, counselor , artist, writer, healthcare industry, motivator, life coach.

- meeting : temples , church , meditation room , yoga class , hospital, library, therapy office,art studio, gym.

• Number 13 : Death

- they are like phoenix from the ashes.

- they can navigate difficult situations and come out stronger.

- constantly growing and evolving.

- zodiac sign: scorpio placements

- profession: therapist, estate lawyers, spiritual leaders, scientist, healthcare professionals.

- meeting: counselling centre, place of worship, innovation hub or entrepreneurship centres, hospital, wellness center.

• Number 14 : Temperance

- they strive for equilibrium in all aspects of life .

- they prioritise physical, mental and emotional well-being.

- have creative sides.

- zodiac sign: Sagittarius placements .

- profession: doctor or nurse , therapist or counselor, artist or musicians, spiritual leader, international relation specialist , life coach , designer .

- meeting : art galleries or museums, embassies or international conference centres , community centres, clubs , parks , garden , spiritual center , yoga class.

• Number 15 : The devil

- they thinks outside the box and brings fresh ideas .

- magnetic personality, can attract others.

- unconventional, transformative.

- zodiac sign: Capricorn placements.

- profession: politician, CEO, artist, law enforcement, military, detective , investigators, activists, occultist.

- meeting: historic mansion or estate, a secret rooftop, art galleries, studio , book store, library , cafe.

• Number 16 : Tower

- they seek honesty and transparency even if it's uncomfortable.

- rebellious, resilient, revolutionary.

- they are open to new ideas.

- zodiac sign: Aries placements.

- profession : scientist, inventor, engineer, architect, military officer, crisis manager, technologist.

- meeting: transformation hub, a unique event space or art studio, bookstore, library, co-working space.

• Number 17 : Star

- they have a optimistic outlook of life and believe in a bright future.

- inspiring, peaceful, compassionate.

- creative and imaginative mind.

- zodiac sign: Aquarius placements.

- profession: creative expression, artist , industry related to healing and wellness, science and technology, humanitarian work, counselors.

- meeting: yoga studio or wellness center, botanical garden or peaceful outdoor setting, co-working space, concerts? , innovation hub.

• Number 18 : The Moon

- they trust their instincts and have a strong connection to their subconscious mind.

- deeply in touch with their emotions.

- unpredictable, may surprise other with their actions.

- zodiac sign : Pisces placements.

- profession : psychic or medium, artist or writer, musician, poet , spiritual teacher, healer, counselors.

- meeting: mystical or esoteric shop, secluded beach, art studio, a spiritual or metaphysical bookstore, coffee shop.

• Number 19 : Sun

- they exude self assurance and positivity.

- optimistic, enthusiastic, charismatic.

- warm hearted , willing to share blessings with others.

- zodiac sign: leo placements.

- profession: actor or performer, artist, CEO , teacher or mentor, event planner, musicians, life coach, designer.

- meeting: cafe / restaurant/ hotel , studio , gathering hall, auditorium, music festival.

• Number 20: Judgement

- they are introspective and willing to confront their past and inner self.

- self aware, have deep understanding of their strengths and weaknesses.

- awakened, courageous, honest.

- zodiac sign: scorpio placements

- profession : spiritual teacher or guide , therapist or counselor, life coach, researcher, artist or creative expression.

- meeting: spiritual center or temple, yoga class, a writer's workshop, park , garden , therapy or councilling office.

• Number 21: The world

- they have achieved their goals and fullfill their potential.

- compassions, wise, confident

- adventurous and global minded.( Most likely a foreigner)

- zodiac sign: Taurus, Capricorn, leo , placements.

- profession : global diplomat, artist ( global or universal theme) , cultural ambassador, world traveler, humanitarian work.

- meeting: while traveling, international conference centres , airport, spiritual retreat, international art or music venues.

• Number 22 : The fool

- they are willing to take risks and embark on new journeys.

- spontaneous, carefree , open minded.

- have faith in themselves and universe.

- zodiac sign: Aquarius placements.

- profession: entrepreneur or startup founder, activist, humanitarian work,coach or consultants, designer, scientist,teacher, journalist.

- meeting: spontaneous meet-up or pop up events, inspirational seminars, creative workshops,cafe or coffee shop, outdoor adventure location.

----------------✨✨----------------

END .....( I am tired af 😭)

☞ Healing through marriage

Thanks for reading 💓

-Piko ✨

[northopalshore]

hiii Gaia <33

I have my asteroid union in my 5th house in pisces, what does that mean??

Hello!

I want to elaborate on this ask & just give the scenarios of meeting your future spouse through asteroid union (1585 ) in the natal chart. Where the 7th house ruler is in your chart will also tell you how you meet. You can still apply the contents of this post to that.

Asteroid Union in the Natal Chart

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

Union (1585) is an asteroid used to interpret how you'll meet your future spouse. In this post, I'll be focused on how union will manifest in your meeting in the natal chart. Masterlist

In the houses

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 1st house

Something about it could be rather personal & by that, I mean you'll be interacting one on one quite often (or during) the time you meet them. You could just be doing something on a whim as well. Somewhere where the main point is you (can manifest in a multitude of ways).

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚2nd house

You could be purchasing something when you meet them. You could also be at the comfort of your own home or anywhere with some sort of purchasable service i.e mall, shopping websites, etc. Money or some sort of transaction is likely involved. Could also be on dating sites (if aspected w libra or leo) or on the internet, somewhere with their faces voice or even writing.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚3rd house

Online, talking, learning. Your mind is being active, your mouth is also playing a part lmao. Could be related to short trips or unexpected travels as well. Bookstores, libraries, internet & school (early education). You could just be a few months/days/hours into a language learning app for example and meet them on the app. Meeting at a conference, through siblings.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚4th house

You could be at the comfort of your own home. Your home town, something related to your mother or family members. Though, you could also meet during childhood or at a time where you're rather immature/young.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚5th house

You could be around children, at school or somewhere related to entertainment. You could be the one entertaining, or seeking entertainment in general i.e movies, carnivals, theatres, YouTube, TikTok, Instagram and whatnot. Meeting at concerts or celebrity related events even.

Ex: Ariana Grande has Union in Gemini (°22 Capricorn) in her natal 5th house. She met most of her partners through her career, or while they were working (including Dalton Gomez, he was working as her real estate agent), & usually also involves the arts (because she works w art & performances).

Looking at her 7th house ruler, it's in the 9th house in Libra w a Virgo degree. So everything tracks as well.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚6th house

Meeting at work, in your comfort zone. You could be going along with your regularly scheduled routine when you first meet them. You could start a casual relationship at first perhaps related to work or just someone you'll see quite often here & there. While receiving/providing health care.

Ex: Michael Jackson met Lisa Marie Presley at work & started off as friends. He met Debbie while visiting his regular doctor for his vitiligo.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚7th house

Meeting at work, on dating sites, while you're dating someone else, or even when signing into a new company. You could meet them during weddings as well. Providing a service, working with them. There is some sort of give & take here. You could be in a setting where you're one on one with them as well.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚8th house

You could be offering some sort of service. Since it's the opposite of the 2nd house (buying). It could also be related to something rather taboo or for something meant to be kept as a secret (surprises too). There is always something rather "controversial" around you & your spouse. Could be different religions for example.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚9th house

Teaching something. You could be teaching something or expanding your knowledge. It could be related to foreign things i.e religion, languages, geography or even philosophical knowledge/theory. Literally at university, or while pursuing higher studies/qualifications. Taking chances to broaden your horizons/reach.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚10th house

Meeting at work, when you're doing something big like a project that you're managing or getting a promotion. You could have been working in the same industry for a while before you met. You could meet in very public settings as well; dating shows

Ex: Zendaya has this placement. She met Tom Holland on set while they were working together. It just so happens that the characters they played as were love interests.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚11th house

You could meet them through mutual friends, or through online; communities, or fandoms or even just websites. Somewhere with electronics & technology; repair shops, car dealers, electronic dealers.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚12th house

Meeting from a distance, blind dates, online, through church or religious communities. On a getaway, around supernatural phenomena or just spiritual related things. While getting medication or some sort of treatment .

Note:

If union is in retrograde, you may have been thinking of doing something for a while or may have an inkling towards that person before you actually interact. Either that, or you may not notice that they are the one at first.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

In the signs & degrees

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Aries (°1,°13,°25)

Doing something for yourself, focused on yourselves; doing what you want. Something about it may be quick, you may be acting towards it or initiating the interactions. You're likely the one to make the first move, whether intentionally or not. It may feel rather sudden as well, like you have to act now, or everything is pushing you together quickly. Attraction at first sight.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Taurus (°2,°14,°26)

Similar to the 2nd house, usually money or a certain service is involved. Could be related to your work, or your voice or your words i.e writing. There's something to be gained through your interaction here. There could be a friendly vibe when you first meet. You may keep a rather professional act at first.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Gemini (°3,°15,°27)

Language, communication, directions, fast movement. When you meet, it could be in a busy setting where people are on the go or talking to each other. Could be online, in a classroom, at a public service office. You're immediately comfortable around each other. Being able to talk about anything & everything.

Ex: I have a friend who has Union (°17 leo) in Gemini 1st house rising at °12 pisces. She met her boyfriend (soon to be financé) online while she was bored. She started doing lives & entertaining people (but mostly herself) on Tiktok & met him through there lol. He lives in a different state from her.

Looking at her 7th house ruler (Sagittarius) Jupiter in the 3rd house (Leo) in a Leo degree. Again, she was entertaining herself, having fun talking to a few people on her lives.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Cancer (°4,°16,°28)

Your partners may be the first to approach you. There may be an immediate connection as well. Meeting while you're young, you could choose to get together quite quickly as well. You could meet somewhere comfortable, where you're used to. They could be from the same place you come from or even where you work. A restaurant, house listings, estate sales, etc.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Leo (°5,°17,°29)

Meeting while entertaining people, or when seeking entertainment. Related to excitement, or literally on dating apps. Tiktok, Instagram, games, Tumblr etc. Where people come to connect and have fun. Nothing really serious is going on.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Virgo (°6,°18 )

This is also a sign of working with them, so you could either work in the same industry or just happen to work where they frequent or have business with. At a clinic, a hospital, the gym, anywhere related to your physical wellbeing. Somewhere you frequent.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Libra (°7,°19)

Working with them, or working for them. Similar to the 2nd & 7th house; there is something to be gained from both parties. Could be related to art, beauty, aesthetics, law, a concept, some sort of service that you provide. Just offering something.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Scorpio (°8,°20)

Meeting alone or privately. There's a chance that you're also looking for something or investigating something. Could be related to anything occult or secretive as well. You could be alone when you meet or at least have some time to be with each other one on one to some degree.

Ex: Cristiano Ronaldo has Union in Scorpio (°7 libra) in his 10th house. He met Georgina (his wife & longtime partner) while he was in a Gucci store, & she was working there then lmao. Their meeting is quite infamous too. Everyone was posting articles about it at the time.

Looking at his 7th house ruler (Cancer), it's in his 8th house (leo) at °10 Capricorn. They kept their relationship private for the most part, their dates & conversations were kept on the low. Again, he met her at a "professional" setting; she was working, he was a customer.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Sagittarius (°9,°21)

Similar to the 9th House; through school, university or even religious cites. While travelling or at a place that's related to travel. Somewhere cultural even like museums or galleries. In a foreign country or a different state. While expanding something in your life like your knowledge, your possessions even.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Capricorn (°10,°22)

Meeting due to work, a public meeting. People knowing that you've met or people being nosey about the both of you when you meet. You could meet at a public setting as well. You could have a rather 'professional' front when you meet. They could be coming to you for advice or guidance as well.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Aquarius (°11,°23)

Meeting unexpectedly. While searching for something online, or while researching even. You could be curious about something, exploring something, doing something you've never really done before. There's immediately a mental connection, you feel that they match your interest.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Pisces (°12,°24)

Meeting online, unexpected meetings. Meeting through someone else, a third party. Meeting at foreign places, or doing something related to health or healing, hospitals, resorts, the ocean/any body of water. Through therapy. Somewhere with music or scenery or art. Concerts & music festivals are also possible.

Note: Remember. These are the circumstances of meeting your spouse/future partner. So there has to be an exchange of some sort i.e names, glances, conversations. It's not related to seeing them in dreams. It's MEETING them face to face whether virtually or physically.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧. ₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊

*** entertainment purposes only; reader discretion is advised***. /)/) (\(\

Thank you for reading ♡. ( . .) (. . )

@northopalshore

@northopalshore union asteroid 2024

[you-call-it-a-dude]

Call It What You Want

Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

Summary: You went to high school with Regina George and she is now your neighbor in your college dorm. She, of course, pretended like she didn't know you at first. Until she got some alcohol in her system.

Pairings: Regina George x gender neutral/fem reader

Warnings: internalized homophobia, feelings, school lol, swearing

Notes: Hi, yes. So this is my first time writing for not only Regina George but also for like reader POV. If it's any good and something people enjoy, I will do more of it. Hopefully you like it, but if you don't that's totally cool too. Thanks for reading either way.

------

You had managed to, for the most part, avoid Regina George your three years at North Shore High School. You transferred there your sophomore year, your mom taking full advantage of your dad's Evanston address when you got in trouble once at your public high school in the city. You didn't even actually do anything, but both your parents prioritized your future college education too much to let even a thought of bad behavior ruin it.

You made it through high school pretty unscathed. You laid low, had your small group of friends and kept to yourself.

You witnessed the rise and fall of Regina George in real time. You felt bad for her almost. Yes, she was a major bully, but the one time you overheard her dad yelling at her at a parent teacher conference kinda made some things make sense. She also didn't really target you with her bullshit.

Well, okay, someone wrote in the burn book that you were a carpet muncher and would call you a gay slur here and there, but you've been called worse things. People in that book were certainly called worse things.

Senior year was relatively quiet after Cady dismantled The Plastics.

Regina had taken up soccer, which was actually a really terrifying thought given the neck injury she sustained. She was good though. Good enough to get into University of Illinois, Chicago with a partial soccer scholarship.

But of course, her parents writing a big fat check may help with that.

She didn't even need the scholarship. You don't even know how she got away with getting it.

You also were accepted to UIC. You worked harder than Regina did academically, had some of the best grades in your class, did all the volunteering and extracurriculars, and you still didn't get close to the same amount of money offered in scholarships that Regina got (and didn't need).

You were angry when you found out about her almost full ride, but it was a big school and you were almost certain once you were graduated you wouldn't even be giving Regina George ,or anyone from that high school aside from your best friend, a second thought.

Seeing her at orientation seemed like just a coincidence. Watching her get her keys to the same dorm you were staying in had to be a fluke. Passing by her room, the room that happened to be next to yours, just seemed like you were being punked.

You got yourself settled while waiting on your roommate. You had been speaking with them throughout the summer and know they're coming from Colorado and also know they wouldn't be coming until tomorrow because they texted you. So you were taking advantage of this time to get yourself sorted without having to rush or anything.

You left your door open while you got yourself unpacked, a bunch of people coming by to introduce themselves to you or stop in and talk.

There was a soft knock and you turned your head, expecting to greet another person. Instead stood Regina, leaning against your wall with her arms crossed.

"Hello." You greeted, sounded a little surprised.

"Hi, I just thought since we were going to be neighbors I would introduce myself."

She almost sounded nice? Pleasant?

She also clearly did not recognize you. Yeah you trimmed your hair a bit and dyed it slightly darker, but nothing extremely different.

But this also really helps solidify just how invisible you were to her in high school.

You had two routes. You could bring up the fact that you actually know each other and make it weird, or just introduce yourself.

"Yeah, that makes sense. I'm Y/N."

"Regina. No roommate?" She pointed to the empty side of your room with her head.

"Coming from Colorado. So long drive." You scrunched up your nose at the thought of how long that drive was and she hummed in acknowledgment.

"Are you from around here?"

"Uh, yeah. The city, northside. You?"

"Evanston, so basically from the city."

"Ahh, you're one of those people." You chuckled.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She scrunched her eyebrows up, clearly getting defensive.

"You say you're from the city but you're from the suburbs. That's all I meant." You said softly, watching her face soften when she realized you weren't actually insulting her.

"Most people don't know where Evanston is, so." She defended with a small smile.

"Unfortunately for you, I do." You smiled back at her.

"Are you going to the freshman mixer tonight?"

"I didn't even know there was one." You answered truthfully.

"Mkay, you're gonna come with me then. I'll be back at like nine?"

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and saw it was only like 11am and you quickly realized the long night you've gotten yourself into.

Or that Regina had gotten you into.

"Yeah, that sounds cool."

"Awes. See you later then." She slapped your doorframe once before leaving.

But you didn't miss the way she turned and let her eyes linger on you for just a few seconds longer than what's considered socially acceptable.

---

You spent the rest of the day unpacking and getting settled. You went off campus for lunch then took a walk to get some refreshing frozen lemonade from a popular place near by and drank it while you made your way back to your room.

Regina was still setting her dorm up to her standards. Her door was open and when you peaked in, she was standing on a wobbly chair trying to tape posters to her wall.

Of course she got a single room.

"Need help?" You took a sip of your partially melted peach lemonade and knocked on her doorframe to get her attention.

"Yes, please. That would be great." She said, sound exasperated.

You held out a hand to help her off the chair, but she ignored it. Opting to just brace herself on your shoulder instead. You scratched your head and assessed the situation. You weren't really much taller than her, but your arms were longer so that could work in your favor.

You looked around for somewhere to set your drink before she took it from you to hold. You stepped on to the death trap of a chair and did your best to hang the poster. It was of an artist you had never heard of, but you wouldn't be opposed to new music if she was any good.

You pressed the corners of the poster against the wall and moved out the way. Regina thought for a few seconds before asking you if it was possible to 'pretty please' move the right side up like a quarter of an inch.

You did your best to gauge a quarter of an inch, and your best was thankfully good enough because Regina was satisfied with your efforts pretty fast.

She reached her empty hand up to help you off the chair and you hesitated at first, but took it. She stiffened her arm and gave you a firm platform to put your weight so you had support when hopping down.

Did part of you kind of expect her to let you fall? A little yeah.

"So, what are my chances of getting you to build something for me, too?" She asked sweetly while she handed you back your drink and you took a sip, your dry throat feeling relieved already.

"It depends what it is."

"It's a stupid metal shelf thing." She stepped aside and over the metal parts scattered across her floor.

There was an attempt made, so you at least know she tried before asking.

"Yeah, that looks easy to me. Do you have the instructions?" You handed your drink back to her and kneeled on the floor, rifling through all the pieces.

She set your drink down on the desk and handed you the instructions, sitting down on the floor next to you with her legs crossed.

This shelf wasn't too difficult to build, but it was definitely frustrating. The pieces were in the right spot but they just weren't fitting. Regina complained about how her parents bought her such cheap stuff and didn't even stick around to help her build it. It wasn't like they had a long drive home ahead of them.

She kept apologizing for asking you to help her with stuff or for the shelf being too difficult. She said many times that if you couldn't get it she would just throw the shelf away and not to worry about it if it didn't work out.

You reassured her that it was really okay and you were happy to help. That there was no need to throw out a perfectly good shelf. After a few pinches to your skin, a few scrapes from jagged edges, and a lot of swearing later, you managed to get it built for her.

You didn't expect her to be as involved as she was. She was handing you pieces, going over the directions with you.

You stood up and picked up the shelf, turning it up right so it was standing correctly. She stood up after you, eyeing the shelf with her hands on her hips and nodding.

"That looks perfect. Thank you so much, really."

"You're so good, happy I can help." You picked up your now melted lemonade and took a sip, trying not to be visibly upset over the fact it was no longer frozen.

"Did you get that on campus?"

"No, it's a few minutes away. Really close by. You didn't know that, city girl?" You teased and bit back a smile when you noticed the small blush to her cheeks.

"I was going to offer to buy you a new one, but since you want to be mean I'm taking that offer of the table." She crossed her arms with a small pout and the overwhelming urge to kiss it away scared you.

"No, no. I wouldn't accept anyway. It was like halfway gone. No biggie, honestly." There was an awkward pause between the two of you. "Um, was there anything else you needed help with? Or should I go?"

"You can go now." She said in a tone that felt like a war flashback or something. "I'll swing by your room to pick you up at like 8:45."

"Do you still want me to go?" You asked, because honestly her tone was suggesting otherwise.

"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't." She defended, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay. I'll see you later then."

---

9:15pm and you were sitting at your desk dressed and feeling stupid. Because of course Regina was still going to very much so still be Regina.

There was a knock at your door and you waited a second before answering it.

When you opened the door, you keep your face neutral and unimpressed. Which was actually extremely difficult to do because Regina looked breathtaking.

"Yeah, I know. I'm late. Also, you look hot." She commented and it immediately made you feel self conscious because you couldn't gauge if it was genuine or not.

You thought you looked good, but Regina had been notorious for giving out fake compliments.

"Thanks."

"So you agree? You think you're hot?"

Jeez, talk about a war flashback.

"I do." You answered without missing a beat, but your insecurities were threatening to crawl their way out of your mouth at any second.

Regina pursed her lips and nodded in approval at your response and you slowly let out the breath you had been holding.

"Let's go then."

---

Regina abandoned you the second you guys got to the mixer. Which you half expected. You quickly realized that this was not an official university organized event, though the 9pm start time should've made that clear ages ago.

Another indicator being that they were at a frat house.

Alcohol was flowing, students from all different grade levels were mingling.

You grabbed a cup of whatever alcoholic beverage was concocted and got to mingling.

You talked with a few people that you found out you would be sharing classes with, which was cool.

After about an hour of mingling and drinking, you found your way to the front porch and parked yourself on their porch swing and just did a bunch of people watching.

A cat with a collar came and sat next to you, purring and nuzzling against you. You had no idea if it belonged to the frat house or if it was a stray that just frequented the area. The collar said her name was Roach which really made you thing she belonged to the frat boys, but an off campus address on the back put those fears to rest.

"You found a cat!" Regina slurred, stepping out of the house loudly. Her heeled boots clicked against the floor of the porch and she slammed the door behind her, completely shutting out the thumping noise of the party.

"Yeah! Well, more so she found me. Her name is Roach."

"Ew." She hiccuped and made her way over to you, sitting next to Roach. She angled her body and rested her head on your shoulder. "I have to tell you something." She slurred again, reaching down to let the cat sniff her hand before petting her between the ears.

"Sure, what's up?"

"I remembered you and I pretended like I didn't." She lifted her head up to look at you. "But you're a sneaky bitch too because you did the same thing." She poked your cheek with her index finger until you turned your head away from it.

"You talked to me first. I wasn't going to bother you." You admitted, getting a little frustrated.

"Why? You didn't want to talk to me?" She asked, sounding almost disappointed?

"I didn't think you'd want me to. Then I thought it would be really embarrassing if I said I remembered you and you introduced yourself to me. So I just didn't say anything."

"I didn't want you to tell anyone about who I was in high school." She rested her head against your shoulder again. "I just wanted to start over."

"I'm not going to say anything." You said quietly, a little disappointed that the only reason she tried befriending you was to do damage control.

"I feel bad about it."

"About what?"

"How I treated people." She sniffled, clearing her nose. "I'm sorry about what I wrote about you."

"It is what it is." You shrugged. "It's not like I hid my sexuality or anything."

"You didn't. It made me jealous."

Your ears perked up at this admission. You didn't know whether or not to press on or drop the subject. Whatever amount of alcohol she drank was giving her loose lips and you aren't actually sure how much of this information she actually wants anyone to know.

"You don't want to talk about this sober?" She shook her head against your shoulder.

"Talking about it sober is hard."

"Your parents not accepting or...?"

"My mom? Maybe. Probably. My dad? Absolutely fucking not." She took your drink from your hand and downed the rest of it.

"We don't have to talk about this anymore." You offered while she was downing your drink.

"I'm gonna get another drink." She began to get up, but you pulled her back down"

"Hey, no. Come on. Just stay here with me and Roach." You motioned to the purring cat between you both. "I don't want to lose track of you or the cat. So just stay."

Regina sighed and leaned back against the back of the porch swing. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at you.

"What if we brought the cat inside with us while I got a drink." She offered, giving you a silly little smirk that made your heart somersault.

"I think it's too loud for her in there." Roach let out small meow. "See, she agrees." You scratched under her chin, trying to ignore the way Regina was staring at you right now.

"You were always so nice to us."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I let Gretchen drive my car one time to get us lunch and she got a flat tire in the school lot and you helped her change it so I wouldn't get mad at her. You talked her out of a panic attack because she was so afraid of me."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." You lied.

"Or when Karen was upset after the Christmas show junior year because I was just so cruel to her about her body count. Which wasn't even high. I saw you bringing her that stupid red and green caramel popcorn that the cafeteria was selling for the show."

"I saw her crying, I thought it would cheer her up."

"You also gave me ice when they dropped me on my face and you tried taking care of me."

"I was working backstage and nobody else wanted to help you. Though, I do recall being called a shitty name or two when I did that." You teased.

"I know. I'm sorry. Like really fucking sorry. I was just...projecting."

"I know." You reassured.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, watching people come in and out of the house. Regina adjusted next to you and you put a protective had on Roach and scooted her closer so Regina had more space to move.

You could feel her staring at you. It made you anxious because who knows what she was thinking about.

Regina shifted again and before you can even register her movements, her lips were pressed softly against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"I always thought you were so hot." She mumbled against your skin, her tongue poking out slightly to taste you and her right hand coming up to cup your neck.

You froze for a few seconds, getting lost in the sensation of her lips on your skin, before your rational thoughts kicked in.

"Regina." You said calmly, pulling her hand on your neck. "You're drunk." You laced your fingers with hers and rested your joined hands on your lap.

You watched her stare at your hands, fully expecting her to go off on you or to say something cruel in her drunken state.

Instead, she swiped her thumb over your knuckles and hummed a small approval to herself.

Then a cluster of rowdy frat boys came fumbling out of the house and she let go of your hand faster than anything you had ever witnessed before.

She wiped her hands on her pants and stood up with such ease that it made you question if she was ever even that drunk to begin with.

"I'm gonna get another drink. I'll find you when I'm ready to go."

[csuitebitches]

Book Review- The Wealth Elite: A Groundbreaking Study of the Psychology of the Super Rich, by Rainer Zitelmann Notes

I came across this book because I was looking for psychology books. I found the first of the book rather boring and too textbook-y. The second part is much better.

The author interviewed like 45 millionaire - billionaires. These were his findings.

—

48% stated that real estate was an ‘important’ source of their wealth, and one in ten described real estate as the ‘most important’ aspect of their personal wealth-building. And a total of 20% described stock market gains as an ‘important’ factor in wealth-building, although in this case only 2.4% stated that this was the ‘most important’ factor in building their wealth.

‘Creative intelligence’ is key to financial success. The following is a comparison between the percentage of entrepreneurs (and in brackets the percentage of attorneys) who agreed that the following factors played a decisive role in their financial success: seeing opportunities others do not see: 42 (19); finding a profitable niche: 35 (14).

The role of habitus

* Intimate knowledge of required codes of dress and etiquette

* Broad-based general education

* An entrepreneurial attitude, including an optimistic outlook on life

* Supreme self-assurance in appearance and manner.

He identifies a key quality that is essential for any prospective appointee to the executive board or senior management of a major company: habitual similarities to those who already occupy such positions.

Skillset of Entrepreneurs

* The ‘conqueror’. The entrepreneur has to have the ability to make plans and a strong will to carry them out.

* The ‘organizer’. The entrepreneur has to have the ability to bring large numbers of people together into a happy, successful creative force.

* The ‘trader’. What Sombart describes as a ‘trader’, we would more likely call a talented salesperson today. The entrepreneur has to “confer with another, and, by making the best of your own case and demonstrating the weakness of his, get him to adopt what you propose. Negotiation is but an intellectual sparring match.”

Entrepreneurial success personality traits

* Commitment

* Creativity

* A high degree of extroversion

* Low levels of agreeableness

Entrepreneurial success personality traits

* Orientation towards action after suffering disappointments (the entrepreneur remains able to act, even after failure)

* Internal locus of control (the conviction “I hold my destiny in my own two hands”)

* Optimism (the expectation that the future holds positive things in store)

* Self-efficacy (the expectation that tasks can be performed successfully, even in difficult circumstances).

constant power struggles with their teachers in order to ascertain who would emerge the stronger from such confrontations.

Secret of selling

* Empathy

* Didactics

* Expert knowledge

* Networking.

Conscientiousness is the dominant personality trait. Extroversion is also very common among the interviewees. Openness to Experience is very common

A high tolerance to frustration is one of the most characteristic personality traits of this group.

exceptionally high levels of mental stability.

primarily characterize entrepreneurs as being prepared to swim against the current and make their decisions irrespective of majority opinion.

“No, I never did that (lost my temper). I never get loud. But I can be resolute and say: “That is unacceptable.” And then you either have to go your separate ways or make a decision that the other party might not like. It’s the same in negotiations. I was always described by other people as a bit of a toughie.”

Having the courage to stand against majority opinion is probably a prerequisite for making successful investments, as this is what makes it possible to buy cheap and sell high.

Many of the interviewees spoke about their ability to switch off and direct their focus, even in the event of major problems. The interviewees consistently referred to their ability to focus on solutions, rather than torturing themselves with problems.

At least in the initial phases of wealth creation, most of the interviewees rated their own risk profiles as very high. This changes during the stabilization phase, when risk profiles decrease. In this phase, the hypothesis of moderate risk does apply.

Conscientiousness was the interviewees’ most dominant personality trait. It is important to remember that the Big Five theory’s definition of conscientiousness does not just include qualities such as duty, precision, and thoroughness, but also emphasizes diligence, discipline, ambition, and stamina.

[thethirdromana]

Modern-day jobs for Dracula characters

Yes, most Dracula characters already have jobs that still exist in the modern day: solicitor, doctor, teacher etc. But being in the modern day would have them make different choices so... what would they do instead?

Mina Harker: I don't really get the sense that Mina actually enjoys being a teacher; it's just a job that's available to her as an educated woman in the 1890s. What Mina does like: planning, order, timetables, schedules. Mina would be the best project manager you've ever met.

Jack Seward: Jack should not have a people-focused job, and he should be working with vulnerable people least of all. He's great at observation, and he loves to make a difference and be told that he's a good clever boy. Oh, and he's a big fan of up-to-the-minute technology too. We only need to change his career trajectory slightly, and he would be a very happy research scientist.

Arthur Holmwood: Not many British noblemen are able to live lives of idle luxury any more, so even if his family still owned the Ring estate, he would need to do something more to keep it going. Arthur likes people, travel, music, sport and the good life. So I think, like many modern-day noblemen, he would use the estate itself to generate income: hosting weddings, concerts, conferences and team-building days.

Lucy Westenra: Honestly I think Lucy would love the idea of working with Arthur on the estate. She'd hardly be getting married at 19 in 2023, but she might be getting a BA in Hotel and Hospitality Management with that future in mind.

Quincey Morris: What job does an adventurer/cowboy do in the 21st century? I can't imagine Quincey spending his days sitting at a desk. It needs to be something intense and physical, but also representative of a moment in time that isn't going to last. Quincey works on an oil rig.

Jonathan Harker: Tricky, because Jonathan is so defined by being a solicitor. But a modern-day Jonathan would have far more options for progressing in his career. He has a way with words and a kind and generous nature. I think he'd be an excellent charity grant writer.

Abraham van Helsing: I'm afraid there is no time period or universe in which Van Helsing M. D., D. Ph., D. Lit., etc., etc. is anything other than an academic.

[jcmarchi]

Erin Bahm, Steven Parks named 2024–25 UPS Fellows

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/erin-bahm-steven-parks-named-2024-25-ups-fellows/

Erin Bahm, Steven Parks named 2024–25 UPS Fellows

The MIT Center for Transportation and Logistics (CTL) has announced Erin Bahm and Steven Parks as recipients of the UPS Fellowship for the 2024–25 academic year.

Made possible by a grant from the UPS Foundation, the UPS Fellowship awards financial support to two outstanding students each year, one incoming MIT master’s student and one MIT doctoral student pursuing study relating to logistics, freight transportation, supply chain management, or a related topic.

The UPS Fellowship aims to recognize and reward excellence in these fields, and selections are awarded solely on the basis of merit. Fellows receive full tuition plus a monthly stipend.

“The UPS Fellowships exemplify MIT CTL’s dedication to infusing innovation into real-world applications, upholding the highest standards of academic inquiry,” says Chris Caplice, executive director of MIT CTL. “These fellowships, with the generous backing of the UPS Foundation, stand as indispensable assets in nurturing talents such as Erin and Steven. Their contributions will help to shape the future landscape of the supply chain industry.”

Erin Bahm is an incoming student in the MIT Supply Chain Management master’s program who comes to CTL as a senior inventory operations analyst for Target in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where she stepped into a role managing the end-to-end purchasing and positioning of multiple perishable food categories. Her strength in process improvement led to a promotion to inventory operations, where she was responsible for leading a cross-functional initiative to implement ordering optimization changes to over 300 vendors. In her role, she consulted with global supply chain partners on new process initiatives to ensure order volume accuracy and replenishment agility across networks.

Bahm earned her BS in applied engineering sciences from Michigan State University in 2020, where she also received an MIT Supply Chain Excellence Award. Since graduating, she has continued her studies with the completion of a women’s leadership course through the Yale School of Management’s Executive Education program, and she has earned a certificate through MITx MicroMasters Program in Supply Chain Management. As a leader, Bahm has moderated a career development panel series, and has expanded Target’s new hire mentorship program.

Steven Parks is a PhD candidate in transportation engineering at MIT, and he is also a research assistant in the MIT Megacity Logistics Lab at CTL. In the latter role, he led a 16-month research project with Amazon World-Wide Real Estate Operations, working to quantify the net traffic congestion effects of last-mile e-commerce activities at city scale. The project, for which Parks built a macroscopic traffic simulation model to estimate congestion caused by e-commerce for three major U.S. cities, led to recommendations to reduce congestion footprints published in a white paper in 2024.

“Steven’s work was of critical importance for the success of the project and the reach and academic impact of the research challenge for us and our counterparts at Amazon,” says Matthias Winkenbach, Parks’s advisor and director of the MIT Megacity Logistics Lab. “Steven’s research is answering the question how we can best plan recurring vehicle routes for given demand patterns, road network properties, and other environmental or operational factors related to urban form. This is a highly relevant and timely question with many real-world implications for both freight logistics and passenger transportation systems.”

Parks is a graduate of Santa Clara University, where he was recognized as a Johnson Scholar and earned his BS in mechanical engineering, and received his MS in transportation engineering at the University of California at Berkeley. He has been awarded the Dwight D. Eisenhower Transportation Fellowship from the U.S. Department of Transportation, the Professor Joseph M. Sussman Best Paper Prize from the journal Frontiers in the Built Environment, and first place in the Santa Clara University Mechanical Engineering Senior Design Conference for his work on disaster relief communications.

[ianduncankinnie]

I often post about Palestine but I'd like to take a moment to talk about what's happening in Bangladesh.

KEEP YOUR EYE ON BANGLADESH

TL;DR Students killed for protesting the government's quota system. Students are being arrested and murdered for speaking up about their deceased friends. Everyone is being threatened by the government and many social media platforms are being banned.

All I'm asking is to spread the word. Please. International pressure really works for our nation. We're dying here. UNICEF reports 34 children dead. There might be more. All reblogs and likes and shares are appreciated. Thank you. I guess I'll see you tomorrow.

Past

A movement protesting the government's quota system put forth by the father of our nation Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. This was placed in the first place to help the grandchildren of those who fought in the Liberation War of our country to get government jobs. We have a terrible job market here which is why many highly educated people leave the country. On 16th July, While protesting, a Student named Abu Sayed of Begum Rokeya University was killed by the police. This only stoked the feelings of injustice between the students.

During a press conference, the PM was asked about the quota for the grandchildren of veterans. Her response? "If we don't give jobs to the grandchildren of Veterans, will we give jobs to the grandchildren of Razakars?" Razakars are the people who collaborated with the Pakistani Forces to bring down the Bangladeshi freedom fighters. They betrayed the nation for their own gain.

Traitors.

Imagine calling the youth of your nation traitors.

Imagine calling almost 14 million young people who can't find a job despite their credentials betrayers.

Imagine cursing people who are protesting for job equality under a government with the all time highest corruption in the history of this nation.

On 17th July the broadband connection centre in Mohakhali was burned down. Mobile data services and communication were shut down by the PM. After 11 days the internet was properly restored.

On 19th July, A National Military Curfew was put in place by the Prime Minister to mitigate the unrest.

But that was last month. If you need details I highly recommend sources in Bangladesh like the Daily Star or reputable like Al Jazeera. The quota has since been lifted. Lives were lost. But it was for a good cause, right?

Right?

RIGHT?

Present

Well no. There's still a curfew in the capital. Several districts like Cumilla are still under attack. The government warns of not spreading misinformation yet still lie about the severity of the issue. The police are arresting those who protest as well as those who speak up. The students are demanding for the resignation of the PM. The PM obviously refuses to apologise or even acknowledge the deaths of some 147?

or is it 200?

They're not counting how many they're killing. They're not letting anyone else count either.

It is midnight here. This morning as in 4th August 2024, the students have called for a non cooperation movement. The Ruling Party Awami League will also be holding rallies across the nation tomorrow. I do not know what is going to happen to me. I do not want to think of what will happen to my family tomorrow. I don't really care. What I'm truly scared for is the future. As these protests do not end well here.

Future

Precedence says the PM will eventually resign. Every student protest of our nation has ended in momentary success.

Momentary

What comes after is usually a military regime. A caretaker government until a next government is chosen in a supposed election. Even then if they decide to hold an election. The caretaker government is usually run as a dictatorship. It was true for the 60s. It was true for the 90s. I don't doubt it will happen again.

I'm graduating next year. My niece is still new to the academic system. I wish her the best. My grandmas and grandpas are dead. Nobody left to pray for me. My aunts and uncles are growing old. My cousins can't speak up for fear. My mom is so tired. My dad is angry. I'm unsure if I will still be able to post the next couple of days.

All I'm asking is to spread the word. Please. International pressure really works for our nation. We're dying here. UNICEF reports 34 children dead. There might be more. All reblogs and likes and shares are appreciated. Thank you. I guess I'll see you tomorrow.

[swaps55]

I had to get up off the mat and attend a conference today. I was dreading it. Woke up at 3:30 this morning with a knot in my stomach heavy enough to be a murder weapon, and now I had to talk to people who possibly voted against my existence and act like it was fine.

But a couple of things happened today.

I work in a fairly niche industry, and in the sessions I attended today, people were talking about solving problems.

In one session, the speaker talked about discovering an accessibility problem on their college campus. This university is in a remote area, and students without cars weren't enrolling because public transit to get there took four hours.

So a group of people sat down in a room to try and solve the problem, afraid they'd run into roadblocks with costs and infrastructure. To their delight, they realized that by moving a bus stop and adjusting bus schedules by 15 minutes, they could take that 4 hours down to 90 minutes.

This speaker was so excited about creating better access for students who needed it. They'd found a solution for people who wanted to learn but couldn't due to lack of transportation.

In another session, a panel of people talked about how they integrate art into public buildings, and how the public entity, building designer, builder, and artist worked together to create art that belonged to a community, and how all the challenges to making it happen were worth solving. The building they did their case study on was beautiful.

In a later session, a room full of higher education professionals who manage transportation on their campuses talked about the growing need for EV charging stations on campus. It's a surprising complex and complicated challenge in terms of energy supply, infrastructure, cost, planning, etc. There are no easy answers on how to do it.

A few made the observation that by providing chargers, they'd accidentally wound up in the energy business, where they didn't think universities should be.

"Yes we should," one of them said. He went on to remind us that yes, we could expect students and faculty could go home to charge their cars instead of doing it on campus. But those are also the worst time to plug into the grid. It's overloaded. Solar energy can't handle it, so it taps into fossil fuels. It's dirty energy. And he wasn't satisfied for making it someone else's problem. "We don't have to be in the energy business. But it's better for the environment if we are. It's better for the future. We should be in the energy business, because it's the right thing to do."

All day I was surrounded by people who put their professional energy into solving problems, not because it would make them rich, but because they were problems that needed to be solved, and they were the ones who took it upon themselves to solve them.

And...I felt better.

After the electric vehicle panel, I thanked the person who made a plea for the right thing to do, because I felt a little less despair after hearing it. He smiled at me and said, "Yesterday was rough. But 48 million people in this country stood up and did the right thing. That's a lot of people."

On a lot of days to come that might not feel like enough. But in your city, in your town, in your state, there are still people who are taking on challenges and standing up to do the right thing, for both the small things and the big things.

It's not going to be easy. But I'm going to be one of them.

[fiapartridge]

𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐗 𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐋 ˙ ✩°˖🎀 ⋆｡˚꩜

beckett sennecke x bookstore!girl au!

meet hazel becker 💖💌🎧🌸🧚‍♀️

☆ age: 18

☆ nicknames: haze, zelly

☆ education/hobbies: hazel is currently a first year at cal state fullerton. she's majoring in creative writing. she aspires to be a young adult author in the future. she loves reading, writing, & baking.

☆ family: she has one younger sister (9) and one older sister (21). she's very close with both of them and calls them regularly. she's also super close to her parents and they're very supportive of her career path and everything she's working towards. she's originally from seattle, washington but is at csuf for school!

☆ hazel's quirks: she's a hopeless romantic! she believes in love at first sight and wants a fairytale, romcom, book-ish type of love. she's never been in a serious relationship before (if you don't count justin ramirez during freshman year of hs - it was a month long and never went past handholding and quick pecks). she would much rather be with the guys she dreams about in books and writes in her own than the guys she meets in real life. she's also a huge swiftie. she's in every single playlist that she has (she's currently trying to make beckett a fan). her favorite colors are pink and yellow, and her fashion staple are baby pink converse <3 she couldn't live without them!

☆ comparable characters: lara jean covey (to all the boys i've loved before), liz buxbaum (better than the movies)

☆ spirit animal: orange tabby cat

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

meet beckett sennecke 🏒⭐️🦆🧡✨

☆ age: 18

☆ nicknames: beck, becky, beckster

☆ education/hobbies: beckett is currently (in the au) playing hockey for the anaheim ducks.

☆ beckett's quirks: he's also never been in a relationship! not because he has some ideal girl in his head (i mean, yes, but that's not what's been stopping him) but because he's literally pathetic. he cannot talk to girls. he gets flustered soo easily. he's also a little spoon. he also loves the off campus series by elle kennedy. and he has a teddy bear named captain fuzzington.

☆ comparable characters: peter kavinsky (to all the boys i've loved before), troy bolton (high school musical)

☆ spirit animal: golden retriever

moodboard!

playlist!

fics ->

☆ captain fuzzington

☆ does he know?

☆ 4th of july!

☆ robbers

blurbs/thoughts ->

☆ how they met pt.1 - how they met pt. 2 - how they met pt. 3 - how they met pt. 4

☆ beckett reading the deal

☆ their second date

☆ his voice lmfao

☆ finding out he's a hockey player...

☆ beckett's explanation

☆ her touch calms him down

☆ first sleepover

☆ their first cuddle

☆ her major!

☆ their first kiss

☆ making it official

☆ so high school coded

☆ one monthiversary gifts

☆ beckett buys hazel expensive jewelry

☆ hazel's family!

☆ "love" and "baby"

☆ beckett calls her hazelnut

☆ beckett + hazel are 18 by one direction coded

☆ beckett + hazel do a tiktok trend!

☆ hazel comforts beckett at a press conference

insta edits ->

☆ hazel’s life update

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: Language, fluff.

Part 3: Contact

As it turned out, your life started to get better after you missed that shift at the coffee shop.

Oh, you still got fired. But the experience of nearly getting splattered on the pavement by an oncoming truck gave you some unexpected clarity about your life.

Mainly, you needed to stop wasting it. You were tired of jobs that would pay your bills but not bring you closer to your career. And frivolous thoughts of coffee shop boys and…the hope of running into your soulmate.

Maybe one day, you could dare to hope, but from now on, you wouldn’t let it rule your thoughts. You wouldn’t hope too hard either.

It could save you from the disappointment of never hearing anyone’s thoughts but your own.

So you decided to check the University of South Dakota’s career board for jobs, and you discovered an opening in the history department! A research assistant for one of your favorite professors, who was writing their dissertation on the strange, superstitious, and sometimes down-right disgusting social practices of the Ancient Greeks (including bottling up the sweat of their best athletes, because they thought their musky body oils contained magical properties).

Since you were already majoring in history, you were a shoe-in for the job. And working directly with your professor gave you a great resource for future classes.

Four years later, you had earned your bachelor’s degree in History. You even decided to further your education when you were able to get a scholarship for graduate school.

Now you were just one semester away from finishing your master’s. You still worked in the history department, but you had been able to upgrade—to Executive Secretary to the Dean of Ancient Studies.

It sounded fancy, but really, you were a glorified slave. Or at least, your boss seemed to think so.

“I need you to cancel my meeting at two,” said Dr. Birch. She breezed into your tiny office without knocking, startling you from where you were hunched over your laptop.

“Good morning!” came your reflexive greeting, though it was a bit too loud and sharp. You internally winced at yourself and relaxed your posture, like a bird unruffling its feathers. “Cancel your meeting with Dr. Wells?”

Dr. Wells was a nice man, and an important one. He was the Head Dean of the entire History department. Technically, he was above Dr. Birch. It wasn’t a good look to blow him off, but you weren’t about to say so.

“Yes, I have an important lunch, and I already know it’s going to go overtime. Gary will understand,” she replied. She was looking at her phone rather than at you. For all she cared, you were just a calendar with hands.

Dr. Helen Birch was a brilliant woman. She’d published no less than five books, had won awards for her peer-reviewed articles, and she had been your academic advisor all through graduate school.

She could also rival Meryl Streep for “bitchy-ass boss” in The Devil Wears Prada.

“I also need you to grade the final exams for one of my classes,” she said. “Greek Studies this time.”

You held back a sigh. Again? I’ll never finish my own finals at this rate.

But what you said was, “Sure, I can do that. And I’ll email Dr. Wells to reschedule.”

“Yes, make sure it’s not on Thursday,” she said, brushing a finger through her thin blonde hair. “I have to leave early to get my roots touched up before I go away this weekend.”

“That’s fun,” you chatted while you revised Dr. Birch’s calendar on your computer (and sent an apology email to Dr. Wells). “Where to?”

“Oh, I have this tedious conference in Chicago. But then my boyfriend is taking me skiing in Breckenridge.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I simply can’t wait. This semester has been a drain on my psyche, and just terrible for my migraines.”

With the email sent, you took a little breath and gathered some courage as you got up from your desk and gathered a handful of papers you had stapled together. It was a rough draft of your thesis, which was only a bit worse for wear (including a suspect coffee stain that you didn’t remember accidentally putting there).

“Actually, I was going to ask you if you got my email about my thesis. I just wanted to go over some of the feedback you gave me on the draft,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Dr. Birch raised a brow. “What of it?”

“Well.” You showed her the front page, which was covered in red ink. “Mainly the part where you crossed out the first three pages and commented, ‘Missing the point.’”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid I have nothing to add about that.”

Well, that didn’t exactly help you. The first three pages was your entire introduction to your thesis, “TV & Film: The Modern-Day Mythology of the Masses.”

You must’ve had a pitiful, lost look on your face, because Dr. Birch finally took pity on you. She sighed.

“You are a creative girl. I’ll give you that, but your degree is not in cinematography. You are a historian,” she said. “And while the ‘Well of Souls’ in Raiders of the Lost Ark may be based on a real historical place in Jerusalem, that does not mean Indiana Jones can, or should be described as a ‘religious experience.’”

My ten-year-old self would bed to differ, you wanted to retort, but you kept your mouth shut and lowered your eyes. Dr. Birch nodded to herself and was about to leave your office, until she stopped short and gave you her Amex card.

“Oh. And get me a coffee, would you, dear?”      

The moment your day ended and you were able to get into your car, you let out a long sigh of relief. While you waited for your car to warm up, you massaged your hand, aching from grading papers for Dr. Birch’s class.

You rubbed your hands together, this time to warm them as the frigid air draining from the car still bit into your skin. A shudder tingled through your body, and not in a pleasant way. Honest to God, I hate the winter.

On reflex, you toyed with the silver ring on your right hand—your mom’s ring. It usually comforted you, but today, remembering her made your heart heavy. Because today was the anniversary. 

You still remembered that snowy day when you were fourteen, could picture it so clearly, like a scene painted on glass.

With one last sigh, you fished out your phone to call your dad. It rang for a few seconds (it always took him an eternity to answer his phone, and it drove you crazy).

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad,” you said.

“Hey. Just got off work?”

“Yeah, I’m headed back to Sioux Falls. Want to meet at home and go together, or do you just want to meet me at the cemetery?”

The other line was silent for a moment. Longer than you would’ve liked.

“You’re coming, right?” you pressed.

“Look, I’m gonna have to work late tonight,” Jack said. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Really?” Your voice was terse. “It’s one day a year, Dad. You can’t even manage that?”

“I told you I’m working a case.” He sounded annoyed. You didn’t care.

You were pissed.

“Whatever,” you dismissed. But then, you realized you weren’t willing to let it go just yet. “You know, I just find it interesting. On her birthday, Christmas, today, somehow you just can’t be bothered to visit your wife.”

“Hey, drop it, all right?” your dad snapped back.

“Sure. It’s none of my business, I guess.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm either.”

You silently fumed, but you weren’t willing to hang up the phone first. You didn’t want to look petty, and apparently, neither did he. You both could be stubborn like that, sitting in a tense stretch of silence instead of just…

Instead of just, I don’t know what, you could admit, if only to yourself. Eventually, his voice reached your ears.

“I’ll go when I can,” he said.

“Fine.”

And you really did hang up this time.

What should’ve been an hour drive back into your hometown took almost two with the traffic.

Oh yeah, you still lived at home with your dad. It wasn’t ideal, especially with a long-ass commute every day. But unfortunately, being a full-time student with a part-time job didn’t give you the budget to have your own life.   

At least you had your car—a dark blue Camaro your uncle had restored and gifted you for your twenty-first birthday. You didn’t talk to your Uncle Bobby as much as you would like. Between work and school and taking care of the house for you and your dad, you didn’t have much free time on your hands. You did see Bobby around town sometimes, and occasionally shared a beer with him when your demanding schedule allowed.

Your dad had never liked it, you hanging around your uncle. So you didn’t tell him.

That seemed to work out better for both of you.

In fact…

You reached for your phone again and found your uncle’s number.

“Stop badgering me, Rufus. I’m busy.”

Your lips curved into a grin. “Uncle Bobby?”

“Oh. Hi, darlin’. Sorry, thought you were some riff raff that keeps spammin’ me.”

“What did Rufus do now?” you asked.

“He knows,” Bobby said. The surly edge to his voice made you smile in amusement.

“What’re you doing later? Up for a beer?”

“Usually I’d take you up on that, but I’ve got some people coming in pretty soon.”

You scoffed. “You have people? What people?”

“You’re not the only number in my cell, you know,” he said dryly.

“What, you mean Rufus?” you teased.

“All right, now you’re just runnin’ up my minutes,” he said. “If you really want that beer, you’re welcome to swing by, if you want. I’ve got a stocked fridge full of cold ones.”

You laughed, then you considered his offer. Did you really want to go home and deal with your dad (whenever he bothered to come home)?

“Well, I’m going to the cemetery first, but I could maybe swing by after,” you replied.

“Right, that’s today, ain’t it?” Bobby said. “Give your mom my respects.”

A more genuine smile grew on your lips. “Thanks. Will do.”

You hung up with him just as you got to the cemetery. It was hard not to feel melancholy here, especially in the winter. All the graves were lightly dusted with snow, and it felt like the world came to a quiet stillness here.

You bundled up with your scarf and gloves as you braced yourself for the cold, stepping out of the car. On your way in, you heard the rumble of a car going by. It was loud enough to make you turn your head and see a flash of black speeding away.

You shook your head. People drive like maniacs nowadays.

You were about to continue on your way towards your mom’s grave, when you finally heard it.

Say goodbyeee…never say goodbye-y-aaayy. Holdin’ on we gotta try, holdin’ on to never sayyy goodbyeee.~

Someone was warbling a Bon Jovi song in your mind, and it certainly wasn’t you.

But you did come to a dead stop in your path. Your eyes widened as shock claimed your heart and your brain. Soon enough though, your heart warmed as you became aware of something new. It was like a low hum at first, reverberating inside your chest.

You and me and my old friends, hopin’ it would neeever end. Say goodbye—

The singing continued, but all you could focus on was the thrumming in your skull, the thread of connection you could sense and feel inexplicably. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt warmth trickling down your cold cheeks. Sniffling, you wiped your tears with the back of your hand and smiled tremulously.

You were finally feeling your soulmate.

Which meant, he was close by…and with that realization came an important question:

What the hell do I do now?

They were in South Dakota again.

Dean knew coming back here was…potentially dangerous. He hadn’t heard his soulmate’s thoughts in four years, since the last time he was in this state.

Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to come here. After the last hunt though, he could use some R&R at Bobby’s for a couple of days.

This time Dean had his brother with him, albeit the circumstances weren’t…great. Their dad was missing, and Sam had lost his girlfriend in the process of trying to find him.

Sometimes, Dean really regretted going to find his brother at Stanford. Part of him thought, if he hadn’t hooked Sam into coming with him to try and find John, maybe Jessica Moore would still be alive.

A more selfish part of him (one he wouldn’t name) was glad to have Sam with him. Dean was actually having fun hunting with him. And maybe, Dean was having to get to know him again too.

“You think Bobby will have any intel on Dad?” Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala. They were about five minutes away from Singer Salvage, the old man’s tow business (and his house).

“Doubt it,” Dean replied, changing the radio station once Bon Jovi turned to REO Speedwagon. He could get down with some pop rock from Jovi, but REO was pushing it.

“Then why are we here?” Sam turned to him with a frown. “We just ganked a poltergeist in our old house and…we saw Mom. You think we should be wasting time right now?”

Dean’s lips pursed. Leaving their old house behind in Lawrence, Kansas was exactly why he needed a minute before jumping into the next case. As much as he wanted to find John, Dean just…he needed a minute to breathe.

Revisiting those old (painful) memories wasn’t easy for him. He wasn’t sure that Sam completely got that.

“Bobby’s got a stack of lore books to Kingdom Come. Who knows, he might have a way to help us find Dad,” he said.

Sam shot him an unimpressed look. “And if he doesn’t?”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He got why Sam was so fired up. Really. The fact that the kid was having weird…premonition dreams about the near future was concerning. And he wanted to find the thing that killed Jess, that killed their mom, but this was clearly going to be a marathon. Not a sprint.

“In the meantime, we crack open a couple beers,” Dean said, “get one or two of free nights on actual beds, and then we’re on our way to the next gig. How’s that sound?”

Sam let out a sigh through his nose and faced the road ahead. They both knew he wasn’t happy. Dean couldn’t exactly blame him.

When they finally got to Bobby’s, the old man greeted them with a casual wave, beckoning them inside. He offered them the contents of his fridge—a few beers and a frozen lasagna defrosting in the fridge. Dean scoped it out while Sam dropped off his bag in the upstairs guest room.

“That for us?” Dean pointed to the lasagna with a grin. “Didn’t know we merited the red-carpet treatment.”

“’Cause it’s not just for you,” Bobby said dryly, then he hesitated. “...My niece might be swingin’ by later.”

Dean raised his brows in curiosity. “Didn’t know you had a niece.”

Or any family, for that matter. He knew the old man had a wife, once upon a time, but he assumed she’d passed away. No kids. Bobby had never talked about having an extended family. He didn’t have pictures on the walls, and the shelves only had books and locked boxes.

Bobby took a long sip of his beer after opening a bottle each for himself and Dean. He had one ready on the counter for Sam, who came into the kitchen looking tired. The kid hadn’t been sleeping well for the past few weeks, to say the least. Dean handed him the beer.

“I don’t see her much,” Bobby conceded.

“Why’s that?” Dean asked.

It took a moment for the other man to answer. Eventually, he was honest. “Well, she's grown. Going to school, got a job. But you could say I had a fallin’ out with her dad, a while back.”

“You have a brother?” Sam said.

“Brother-in-law,” Bobby corrected. He didn’t say anything more about it though. Sam and Dean shared a look that said they agreed: There’s something off there, but I’m not gonna pry.

“You still see her though?” Dean asked.

“Every now and then,” Bobby said, sipping at his beer again. “It’s a small town.”

That kind of pissed Dean off. Bobby was a good guy. He’d watched Sam and Dean a lot when they were kids, their dad on a hunt. He’d made sure they had decent food to eat, good movies to watch, and even played catch with Dean a time or two.

So what kind of assholes did Bobby have for family, that they couldn’t be bothered to check in on the old man every now and then? They must’ve been off living their lives, in their own little world. Must be nice.

Dean brought the bottle of Heineken to his lips, only to realize it was empty. Couldn’t have that, could we?

He went to the fridge and opened the cap, only to jump as the beer fizzed and leaked over his hands.

Damn it!

Bobby sighed. “And I just mopped the damn floor.”

“All right, Martha Stewart. Keep your slippers on,” Dean teased. “Sam, get me a paper towel.”

Bobby tried to get by him to get the mop, but beer was still dripping down Dean’s arm.

“Would you move to the sink, already?”

Sam finally cracked a small grin as Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Jesus. You’d think Miss America was comin’ into town.”

Damn it.

You heard him again. And this time, you could hear his voice, so you knew the thought belonged to a him. The voice was pleasantly deep, and annoyed. You actually felt his irritation and were able to recognize that the emotion didn’t belong to you.

Excitement bubbled in your throat, almost making it hard to breathe as you drove your car down the road. You had been too worked up to go see your mom, and technically you were supposed to head to your Uncle Bobby’s house, but this was too important.

You needed to figure out how to talk to him—your soulmate.

So you pulled over on the side of the road, and even turned the radio off. Okay, now what?

You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. They taught about this subject in school, sure, but that had been years ago! You’d spent the past six years filling your head with college and work and learning how to be an adult.

Okay, just breathe. You calmed down a bit with some deep breaths, and you closed your eyes. When you first heard your soulmate’s singing in your head, you remembered feeling warmth spread through your body, emanating from your chest. Then in your mind, you’d noticed a…a thread, of what could only be described as energy.

You felt it now. You could almost visualize it with your eyes closed. In your imagination, it was bright and beckoning. You focused on it, and it grew brighter, thrumming and soft.

You thought of what you wanted to say, and you tried it—sending your thoughts and your will through the connection.

Having a rough day?

Dean was still wiping beer off the floor in Bobby’s kitchen when he heard your voice ring through his mind.

Having a rough day?

His entire body tensed, and he paused with a ball of wet paper towel in his hand. Sam had taken the mop from Bobby and was about to finish off the floor, until he noticed Dean blanking.

“Dean?” he asked.

It shook Dean out of his shock, enough for him to look up at his brother. “Hmm?”

“What’s up? You were staring off into space.”

Dean feigned innocence. “Nothing.”

Sam’s brow rose, but he didn’t press the issue and went back to mopping. Dean took the opportunity to toss the wet paper towel in the garbage.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” he said, and made his swift exit to the bathroom upstairs, so quickly that he didn’t see Bobby watching Dean curiously from the living room.

“Don’t use up all the hot water!” Sam called after him.

Once again, Dean found himself locking the bathroom door and staring at himself in the mirror. His green eyes were conflicted as he tried to calm down. Maybe his heart was starting to beat a tick faster. Maybe a trickle of nervous sweat was making its way down his spine. Maybe he didn’t know what the hell to do.

His dad’s warning was still clear as a bell in his mind.

“Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean knew why John had said it, and even agreed with him…at least, logically he did. His life was complicated, and insane, and bloody. How could he put someone else through what he went through? What he still went through every day? It wasn’t right.

But his chest was aching. He rubbed at it absently.

He could feel your worry again, he realized. You were anxious, probably waiting for him to respond. Dean could feel you. Having a rough day? you’d asked him.

So as usual, he made an impulsive choice.

You could say that, he carefully replied. He remembered the way your voice sounded, smooth and pleasant in his mind, and he couldn’t help smiling a little. But not for long, I’m thinkin’.

Your relief hit him in a slow, but powerful wave. It almost made him feel guilty for taking so long to answer.

Well, it’s not every day you hear someone else in your head. Maybe you’re going crazy.

She was teasing him. You were teasing him.

It brought an incredulous smile to Dean’s face. You’re one to talk. Maybe you’re just talkin’ to yourself right now.

Hmm. I don’t usually warble to Bon Jovi, but maybe you’re right.  

A beat of surprise, another to remember what he and Sam had been listening to in the car earlier, and then embarrassment prickled at the back of his neck.

You heard that, huh? he asked wryly.

Maybe, you giggled. It was a cute sound, and it cut through some of his embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being put back a step by women. He was good at reading people’s body language, and usually it didn’t take him more than one look to figure out what a woman thought about him, and what they wanted to do with him.

So the fact that he couldn’t see you was a challenge. With that realization, a slow smile spread across his face. He was game for a challenge.

Well, I’m likin’ your voice so far, he said. Think I could get you to sing for me?

He felt you pause, a flutter of warmth through a tendril of shyness. I’ll leave the performing to you, Romeo.   

Come on, it’s only fair.

Who said life is fair?

Dean sobered a bit at that. Ain’t that the truth.

Hmm, so you were having a rough day.

Make it a week, he said.

Yeah, I know the feeling…I wasn’t having a good day today either.

Dean sensed your melancholy and didn’t like the feeling. Well, now you’re talkin’ to me. So it should be smooth sailin’ from now on.

He could feel you brighten at that. It made warmth bloom once again inside his chest, especially because he sensed you were smiling—a bit shy, but genuine.  

…What’s your name? he asked.

It took you a beat, but eventually you gave him your name. It wasn’t what he expected, but he liked it. Your name rolled through his thoughts, and he tested on his tongue.

What’s yours? you asked predictably. Somehow, Dean didn’t anticipate the follow-up.

Suddenly he realized exactly what he was doing: he was talking to you. (Something he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do.) Not to mention, he’d been locked in the bathroom for about ten minutes and hadn’t even showered yet. Pretty soon either Sam or Bobby was going to come knocking to see what the hell he was doing, so he might as well shower for real.

He answered you as he turned on the showerhead and started undressing. I’ll make a deal with you…if you can guess what I do for a living, I’ll come by and introduce myself in person.

Dean felt your shock, so he let you think as he stepped into the shower. Eventually you came back, annoyance coloring your emotions and your voice.

That’s stupid.

Dean smiled. Aw, come on. It’ll be fun.

For you!

Don’t you know, sometimes the best things in life come after some delayed gratification.

You paused for a moment, in which Dean didn’t know if you were in shock again, or just pissed. Maybe a combination of both.

Great, I got a comedian, you deadpanned. …You’re not a comedian, are you?

Sweetheart, I’m hilarious, Dean replied. But no. Good guess, though.

He sensed the equivalent of you rolling your eyes.

Just then, Sam knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you better not use up all the hot water!”

“Twenty minutes of peace, Sammy. That’s all I ask,” Dean shot back. Sam made a sound of annoyance, but he went away, leaving Dean almost alone with his thoughts.

Look, I gotta go, he said regretfully. But I expect you to have some guesses cooked up by the time I get back from work.

You were still annoyed, but you begrudgingly agreed to his terms.

Fine. Just…don’t wander too far off. I can’t win the game if I can’t hear you.

Dean sensed your underlying worry, and your fear. You were afraid he was going to leave.

His heart softened. As a result, he ended up promising things he didn’t know if he meant.

Don’t worry. I’m not leaving town until you win, he said.

He felt your warm smile, along with your excitement.

Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.

Okay…goodnight.

He hung onto the feeling of your presence for a few seconds longer, before he let go of the connection. For now.

Dean caught himself smiling, but it quickly turned to a frown.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody.”

When he once again remembered his dad’s warnings, that new warmth in his heart chilled, and it sunk like a stone. He leaned against the cool bathroom wall and pressed his forehead against the tile, while lukewarm water beat the side of his face and body.

Shit.

AN: Oh, Dean. What're we gonna do with you? lol

I hope you enjoyed Part 3! I promise they'll finally meet soon lol. What did you think of their first conversation?

To keep reading: Part 4

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