#i struggle a lot with communication and using words sometimes

[charred-angel-ribs]

Loving the most recent Wild Life episode. Much joy, plentiful stims :]]] /pos /gen

[brittlebutch]

it has come to me in a vision (Lila using phone AAC app to write her essays when she goes to college)

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

ok i need. need. NEED. you all to understand what high support needs autism actually is. not just higher support, but highhhh (high) support.

& honestly me, am not even fit to talk about this!! but knowing popular (often low support) autism content creators & authors tokenize me & include me in justification “well i listen to high support needs people and they need—”

high support needs not just need remind take meds, not even need remind eat, need remind shower. if you think “high support needs” & those struggles come first in mind & see those as most represent of HSN, most classical way of be HSN, then you wrong. you wronggg.

many HSN autistic, not even “advanced” enough (for not have better word) to able use reminders. on average day often need physical help. for a lot, need complete physical help. need complete physical help hold spoon n fork, or not able be a part at all and need other people do it. need be told open mouth chew swallow sometimes. need other people clean up drool & spill from mouth & mess.

they have worth. deserve all the fucking help they need.

“difference between low & high support is not actual amount struggle because all struggle inside same but that high support show more external outside struggle & those struggle more annoying for people around them” hear this so often and make blood boil because cannot be farther from truth yet some you all so loudly proclaim.

then tell me why only hear LSN say this. why only hear LSN on internet. why all big content creator big authors big autistic speakers all LSN.

tell me how someone nonverbal and no robust communication no functional language struggle even nonverbally communicate not even AAC not yet or not ever ever, how that same inside as someone who able speak who speak fluent who able communicate want needs dreams have conversation with words

both struggle. but not fucking same struggle.

many people in between. but you not get use people like them like me to give self shiny credential of “i know high support needs because i listen”

don’t use me. you embarrass me.

[birdofmay]

Frequently occurring scenario in 4 steps:

a nonverbal/nonspeaking autistic who struggles to express themself in "proper English" talks about an issue within the autistic community

-> almost no likes, no reblogs

I write about the same thing later; good wording and clear structure

-> many likes, lots of reblogs, people commenting "Oh, that's so important to know, thank you!"

Honestly....... It may be confusing at first, but once you know the pattern it's actually pretty easy to understand ungrammatical sentences on AAC.

You know that many autistics struggle with "I" and pronouns, right? Assume they'll simply drop it and refer to themselves in third person (their name).

Many AAC devices make punctuation difficult. There will be a period after a word because the device just . does . this . thing . here. And often no commas because that's complicated too.

Maybe "I am", "This is", "There is" or "It's" are difficult to find - assume it's "is", or sometimes "I am" is just "Am".

Future and past tense can be difficult too. The context helps here.

"Is not [name] . Say. Is . Say . Green." - "That's not what I said. I said it's green."

Plus, sometimes words are hard to find so it's easier to describe them.

"Red water" or "waterfall eyes" could be easier/faster to find and write than "blood" or "I am crying/sad", depending on the device or the language skills.

And if you really don't understand something because the preposition is unclear and you don't know if the thing in question is in the bathroom, in front of the bathroom, on the sink, under the sink, etc..... Just ask for clarification.

Once you know what words are important for the meaning of the sentence, it's not that hard. Don't ignore those of us who struggle with expressive language just because you're used to "proper" English.

[vanessagillings]

I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

[anemoiashifts]

why you should get off social media if you want to shift.

before you scroll away, i want to challenge all of you to read all of this. this is one of my longest blog posts ive ever made with over 1,000 words. if you can or can’t make it through the whole post, please let me know how far you’ve gotten in the comments below. you’ll get a surprise at the end 🥳 !

social media isn’t an inherently bad thing. however, outside & inside of the shifting community social media (specially tiktok) has been shown to effect our attention span. this shows in my comment sections on my longer tumblr posts that i also share on tiktok, such as this one, when people say things like “im not reading all of that” or “can someone summarize” also “what method should i use” and “why am i not shifting”.

let’s start with the basics of shifting. shifting attempts need some kind of focus; an affirmation, a visualization, some sort of task like counting. if you’re someone who struggles to focus, you will struggle to learn how to meditate or any hobby or task you’re tying to accomplish. all shifting methods are is a meditation. while no, you don’t need a method, I would make the argument learning how to meditate & focus your attention to what you are trying to manifest is an important part of shifting. if social media creates an instant dopamine reward without little effort, the appeal of shifting seems less. this is why i think a lot of people actually like thinking about shifting & creating content for it rather then doing it — because trying to shift requires some level of work without instant reward even if it’s as simple as laying down & setting intention.

if you try to shift & you wake up in your cr still, that isn’t as exciting when comparing it to the idea of shifting. rather, if you post an edit or a video about your dr you will receive a dopamine hit through video interaction (comments, likes, how social media platforms are set up in general). even maladaptive daydreaming can fall into this category to some. the interest in attempting to shift dies because we feel like we aren’t gaining anything from it when that’s not true. when laying down & attempting to shift, we are meditating & training the brain to focus on what we desire most: we’re correcting our attention span.

social media destroys the ability to focus & what we focus on & give our attention to allows room for that desire to grow, to become reality. if we’re always so overwhelmed with information & have so much to stress about, it’s important to recognize what we consume & how it effects our mood & mental health & how it can sometimes delay our manifestations. im not saying you have to be positive all the time, but we’re exposed to so much that it’s important to check in with yourself every once in a while. this can be where shifting content comes into play vs non shifting content. think demotivation, you don’t look for it, it just appears. & how many times have you opened tiktok to look something up to only be distracted by a completely unrelated video that automatically started playing ?

what i mean is people are telling you what shifting is, what works for them (which you could register subconsciously & believe that’s a step by step guide), rather then self discovery. people are telling you what shifting is, how to do it, what to think, what to script, what method you need to do, even if they say “this may not apply to everyone” because of how it’s being presented & spoken about. the said popularity of a method or definition may also come into play & feeling like something has to be right or work because other people align with it. its like math class, the teacher shows you one way to solve a problem then says “your allowed to use your own methods” & shows you one example of it then goes back to using the original method in class that you don’t understand.

another reason is opinions. when being shown so many people speaking on shifting & their thoughts it can be overwhelming. it’s a great thing so many people are willing to talk about their experiences in their desired reality or want to share their personal breakthroughs & opinions on what shifting is, it can be confusing. while everything i just listed is well intended, leaning about shifting through places like tiktok & not venturing out & doing your own research — or just searching methods online & trying it yourself while going in blind — it takes away self discovery.

so, how do we learn about shifting ?

when i say get off of social media, i don’t exactly mean all social media. yes, all of these things happen across the internet but the difference with tiktok is that the fyp isn’t so prominent. this of course also applies to other feeds that are generated, but a lot of the shifting community is ok tiktok so im using the most known example. it’s important to search & decide what information you consume & seek out rather then being told something without stopping to think for yourself. you want the chance to be able to create your own thoughts. your own unique thoughts you have about things make them personal & your own beliefs become stronger when you realize things on your own. it’s more satisfying that way.

places like reddit & searching for questions you specifically have so you don’t have ten more questions shoved in your that you didn’t have before that cause you added worry or unnecessary fear is helpful to keep in mind.

there is room for grey area. not everything needs to be black & white. there should be no consciousness vs multiverse theories because two things can both be true at once. Ike thing doesn’t have to be against something, you don’t have time pick a side. it’s all theory & hypothetical. it’s okay that we 100% don’t know (& will probably never know) what shifting truly is. not everything needs to be discovered to preform it “correctly”. you don’t need to be a master at painting to paint, you don’t need to know how paint brushes are crafted or how canvas is stretched to preform, anyone can sit & learn as they create their first & second & tenth piece. even people who have painted & sold their artwork for millions, don’t know the great’s techniques. they know pieces of them & take what works & discards what doesn’t serve them.

this post isnt to negate any of the good social media has done or sound like my mom & preaching about how social media destroys your brain…but i think we should be mindful of what we consume & how it makes us feel & if we’re speaking for ourselves or parroting others words. there are so many great people & advice out there & im not trying to take away from that. i just think taking a moment to stop & digest what we’re seeing is healthy. this blog post has been a long time coming but i know a lot of people wouldn’t want to hear it. i can promise you, you are more addicted then you think — myself included. i just don’t wake you guys to look back in 10 years & have spent more then half of that looking at a screen when there’s so much life to be lived. i don’t want social media to take away from what we are all here for which when we come down to it is living. shifting is literally wanting to experience life & i can’t help but find it ironic that this is the opposite of everything we wish to accomplish through this practice.

please take care of yourselves. much love.

surprise :) congrats you made it ! here’s your digital slice of cake ! 🍰

[puppyeared]

this could just be "gatekeeping but im being really polite abt it" but. its less abt thinking only certain ppl should be allowed in, and more like i dont wanna open a pandoras box that makes it difficult for everyone to have fun. shrugs

i wanna post my skip to loafer art but i cant do it knowing ppl are gonna put it on tiktok and pinterest bc itd be like. bringing an invasive species ykwim

[koqabear]

love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6

“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”

yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 10.6K

warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it

smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)

Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-

Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess. 

It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again. 

“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”

But sometimes, he just can’t help it. 

He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.

“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”

“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”

“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”

“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”

“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”

Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

MONDAY

This is it. 

Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 

He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.

He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 

Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 

When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 

He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 

Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 

You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.

Shit, this was so embarrassing. 

Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 

The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 

But for you, anything could change. 

This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 

Looking back was your first mistake.

Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 

“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 

“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 

“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”

You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 

“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 

He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 

“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 

“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 

“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 

“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  

“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 

“For existing.” 

God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 

“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 

“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.

Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 

He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 

This was… progress. 

But you’re still mad at him. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

TUESDAY

Visiting you in class was a big no. 

Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.

You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 

Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 

He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 

It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 

He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 

He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 

But, you are a horrendously petty person.

You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.

It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 

You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 

After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 

It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 

There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.

Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 

Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 

His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 

Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 

That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 

You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 

After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 

You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 

Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.

Can you pls let me look at u at least?

You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 

I miss you so so so so so much. 

You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 

That was your second mistake. 

Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 

I’m sorry. 

Another paper flies over your fortress.

I’m sorry.

Then, another. 

Pls forgive me.

Then another. And another, and another, and another. 

Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((

You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 

It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 

There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 

Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 

Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 

Can I show u how sorry I am??

You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 

You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 

“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 

Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 

“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 

There goes all his progress. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

WEDNESDAY

Today has been an oddly nice day.

It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 

A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 

“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 

The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.

It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 

Yeonjun says he’s sorry.

“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!

You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.

By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 

Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 

Yeonjun is really sorry.

…What? 

You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 

He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 

You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 

Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.

“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 

Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 

The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 

“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.

“Could you forgive him?”

“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 

You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.

When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 

Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.

Three ways to better communication in a relationship:

The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.

“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 

my baby :((

stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!

my baby :((

and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!

Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 

Choi Yeonjun. 

can you pls let me talk to you instead?

You don’t bother opening the notification. 

That was your third mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 

Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.

Well. Most of the time. 

“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 

“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.

“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 

“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 

“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.

“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 

It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 

I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 

Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 

“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 

“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 

A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 

Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 

Your meal was free. 

The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 

“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”

You take a second to think her question through. 

Yet another mistake on your part. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

FRIDAY

Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.

You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 

Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 

You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 

The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 

“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”

You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 

“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”

“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 

Christ!

Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 

“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.

You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SATURDAY

You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 

Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 

Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?

The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.

However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.

You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 

There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.

Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?

It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!

This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.

Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 

Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 

I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 

God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 

 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.

Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.

You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.

I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…

Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 

“Hello?”

“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”

“Uhm, let him in then?”

“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”

“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 

“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 

“You need to talk to him.”

“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.

“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”

“Okay.” 

You hope you’re not making a mistake. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SUNDAY

This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 

Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 

“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.

“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”

“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 

“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”

“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 

Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 

“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”

You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 

“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 

You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 

Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 

“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”

“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.

“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”

Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 

“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.

“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 

“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”

“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 

Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.

“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”

“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 

“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 

Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 

“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”

“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”

“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 

“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 

“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”

“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 

Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 

The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”

“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”

“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”

“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”

Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 

“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 

“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”

“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 

“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 

“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 

“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 

“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 

“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 

“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”

His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.

“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.

“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”

“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”

“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.

“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”

Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.

“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 

“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”

Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.

His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.

“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”

“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”

He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!

“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 

“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”

Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 

“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”

The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.

“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.

“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 

You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 

“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“

Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…

You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.

This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 

Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.

“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”

“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”

“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 

“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”

You laugh.

“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”

“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”

A pause. 

“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”

You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 

“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.

“For you, yeah.”

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 

“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”

(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)

[novy2sirius]

astro notes volume nine

༊࿐ gemini’s often get hated on because a lot of people hate themselves but don’t realize it. gemini’s are mirrors. they try to relate to you as much as possible. this is also why they’re so charming. they match people’s vibes. long term though people tend to dislike them since they don’t wanna meet themselves/be around people like them. this isn’t always the case of course. when low vibrational there is definitely gemini’s that are fake since the sign is associated with gossip. there is times when they will be nice to your face and then talk bad about you behind your back. however, high vibrational ones put their energy toward their interests and don’t gossip, but instead have better communication skills and are direct with people

༊࿐ aquarius’ are probably the most misunderstood sign. every one i’ve met has just had a chaotic upbringing and because of this they have lots of chaos going on their mind sometimes. they don’t always know how to express themselves perfectly as they’re the opposite sign of leo, so they can come off as cold and insensitive. i’ve actually found often times they don’t even truly know when they’re being insensitive though until they’ve been called out by someone and then (if they’re evolved) they do try and correct this if they know they’ve hurt someone, so in other words it’s not that they don’t care about you, it’s that they can be quite literally unaware due to their upbringing and them being raised in a “cold” household. i would say especially aquarius moons though

༊࿐ moon square mars can indicate what your soul truly wants to do in life doesn’t always align with your actions and it may take some time for you to make changes in your life or change who you are as a person. for these people change is harder than it is for others since the moon is associated with comfortability, squares create obstacles, and mars is where we take action they want to stay in their comfort zone and can lack motivation at times depending on where they happen to be at in life. people with this aspect should force themselves to do things they don’t want to in order to try and work through this square

༊࿐ venus and the ascendant are great placements to check for fashion, but if you want more info about fashion you can also check the house of your neptune as it is the higher octave of venus. the sign in neptune doesn’t change often, so it won’t be telling, but the house can be helpful! for example, neptune in the 10h could indicate looking better in classy clothes, professional clothes, brown clothes, or darker colored clothing

༊࿐ jupiter is the planet of ease, so yes it can show things that come to us with ease, but it can also show areas where we’re lazy because jupiter discusses the areas we haven’t had to ever work for. for example, jupiter in the 5h could indicate being too lazy to have any hobbies that are productive and just enjoying watching netflix, jupiter in the 4h could indicate being too lazy to leave the house and just being a huge homebody, etc

༊࿐ your 4th house ruler can tell the type of things that you inherit from your family members. this doesn’t just include hereditary things, but also things we have in common with our family that we’ve learnt as children and taken into adulthood. for example, often those with their 4th house ruler in the 7th house act a lot like their parents do in their own relationships once they start dating or genetically it could mean having similar beauty to one of your parents (usually the mother)

༊࿐ your 8th house profection year is at 19 years old which is why we hear most people say that 19 is a really hard age. it’s a very transformational time in your life for multiple reasons. 19 is also the number of negative karma in numerology, so it will especially be a struggle if you’ve got a lot of unresolved karma that you’re carrying with you. it can be even worse if you’re a gemini or cancer ascendant because it will also be a saturn year for you on top of it being an 8h year. for profection charts everyone will have the same house years, but not planets in each year

༊࿐ the part of fortune can show what type of luck we attract at our worst moments (when we need it most). this is different than jupiter representing ways in our life we get lucky in general. for example, an aries part of fortune can indicate getting what you want by being direct/assertive with people or getting really lucky during super dangerous moments when you’ve could’ve literally died. i know someone with their part of fortune in the 10th house who didn’t go to college and basically lounged around at 18-19 doing nothing with their life, but then at 20 created an online business and got really lucky because it happened to blow up on tiktok. they were at the worst point in their life before their company blew up though, so as you can see part of fortune is more about major lucky events that happen right after you’re at a low point in life

— © novy2sirius don’t copy my work !

[bluesidez]

hiii love 💗 may I request a nsfw and a sfw alphabet thingy for gymrat miguel. I just need more of that man 😫😫

[Gym Rat Miguel SFW + NSFW Alphabet]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: GymRat!Miguel O’Hara x Chubby!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, fem!Reader

summary: Me answering questions and yapping about Gym Rat Miguel!

content warning: 18+ for the NSFW portion so MINORS DNI, most importantly THERE ARE SOME SPOILERS FOR THE ACTUAL STORY (nothing too crazy, but some of the questions are things that haven’t happened yet + they haven’t even been together a year yet in the current story so there’s still much to discuss), lots of fluff, possibly the incorrect use of a fidget spinner?? (it's cute I swear)

word count: 9.1k, halfway proofread (sigh...)

a/n: Hi hii!! 🩵 You don’t know how happy I was to receive this request!! Any chances to talk about my Miguels outside of their actual stories are golden. 🥺 I tried to keep the responses brief so about 2+ paragraphs per question but we all know how much I like to write and yap 😭 so there's bound to be some long paragraphs. I do hope you enjoy!!! (This also gave me a chance to flesh out his character even more, which I appreciate more than you know, so truly, thank you Anon!)

I just refer to GR!Miguel as Miguel here because…we all know who I’m talking about.

A = Affection How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a really giant heart so he’s extremely affectionate especially when it comes to his girlfriend. Usually, boys are taught to kind of control their emotions, but even with those teachings/societal rules hanging over his head, he was always a sweet and kind baby growing up. His abuela especially taught him to lead with kindness. 

ᰔ ᩚ He shows affection often through action. While he’s really familiar with all of the love languages, he’s quicker to do something for someone (acts of service) before he does anything else. His second most used love language has to be words of affirmation. Words and communication are a sensitive thing for him so communication is key even if he can be oblivious about it sometimes. 

B = Best friend What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is definitely the "dad friend," or really, the "parent friend" that’s always making sure you’re ok. He knows how to parallel park and owns at least two of the ugliest ties you’ve ever seen in your life (thank you, George). He’s also EXTREMELY huggable, even in his tall and lanky days, and gives really nice advice. If you’re struggling with something, he would lay everything out and help you problem-solve. Overall, he’s just very sweet. 

ᰔ ᩚ For Miguel, a friendship could start with you constantly talking to (bugging) him or being able to keep up with his nerdy hobbies. You want to hear him sort out quantum physics? He’s sold. On the other end, anyone who is nice to him and treats him like a human has a fair game of becoming his friend.

C = Cuddles Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

ᰔ ᩚ Does he? He craves it! He will literally stop what he’s doing to find you just to cuddle. It’s like a way to regain his energy if you're in his arms. At the same time, he’s very comfortable despite all that hard muscle. At home, he usually wears soft sweaters and joggers so he is indeed like a giant teddy bear. The older he gets, the more his body gains a nice balance between fat and muscle so it’s just really comfortable all around.

ᰔ ᩚ When he cuddles, he’ll usually shove his face in some plush part of you. He definitely loves laying on your chest which he lovingly calls his pillows or your stomach or your lap. He’s really clingy. If you’re out and about, he'll cuddle you from behind with his chin on your head or keep an arm wrapped around your hips. When you ask for a cuddle, he’ll gladly hold you on top of him and probably fall asleep. 

D = Domestic Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

ᰔ ᩚ He wouldn’t mind settling down, but it depends more on how you feel rather than him. He’s heard many stories from his mother, Abuela, and tías about how hard childbirth is so he’s very wary of that pain being inflicted on you. His mother has told him multiple times about how giant he was when he was born so he’s scared that whatever baby he could give you might also be huge. After he learned of Tyler, Conchata told him that she wanted to cuss Tyler out, but all she had was George in the delivery room so he suffered her wrath not once, but twice. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has fantasized about you with his babies, but to his shame, it was more about the process of giving you his kids rather than having them run around. He has to admit, he would love to see chunky babies with a mix of you guys’ best qualities. One family reunion with you taking care of your baby cousins might put him in a spiral. He’s sure that you’ll be a great mama and he’s confident that he’ll be the best father. If that doesn’t work out, he’s aiming for tío of the year for the many nephews and nieces his brother is sure to have. 

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of domestic qualities, he’s spent so much time with his abuela that he knows more dishes than his mom. He’s also had times when his mom got sick of constantly cooking for him, so he’ll be up at the crack of dawn fixing his own meals. His cleaning could use a lot of work. He knows the basics, but his family always fusses at him to do more than that. In front of you? He becomes a new person. All of a sudden, he remembers the ways his mother fussed at him to clean the house.  

E = Ending If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

ᰔ ᩚ Even though emotionally he’s extremely mature, he’d probably be a wreck when it comes to breaking up with you. He loves very deeply and separating from you has a high chance of sending him to the ER. If he doesn’t pass out while breaking up, he’d definitely be extremely sick afterwards. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he had to break up with you, he’d do it face to face because anything else is an insult to you. It’ll be somewhere public enough that you’re free to walk away from, but private enough to where no one will be like “wtf is up with those two?” He'll write out what he wants to say a thousand times over and have his desk littered with notebook paper. In his ‘speech’ he’ll praise you heavily but say something along the lines of “even though you are my sun, I can’t continue to drain your light.” Just VERY dramatic and heartfelt. He’d probably be sick enough to puke after watching you go. 

[Good thing this will NEVER HAPPEN. Even I, the angst lover, can not take that torture.]

F = Fiance(e) How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is fully committed to you even without the ring. He is quite the planner, so as soon as he reaches the end of undergrad, he’s already planning out his proposal. Of course, he’s asked you how you feel about marriage and has peeked over your shoulder at your Pinterest boards so he has an idea of what you would like. However, he’s truly a romantic, so he’s pulling out all of the stops. 

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t feel the need to get married right away because you both have huge futures to explore, but damn it, he wants people to know that you’re taken, so maybe he’ll buy you a promise ring. He’s willing to wait until you both have stable jobs before making the huge step to marriage, but he fights the urge to propose to you constantly. He also spoils you like crazy and he wants to earn the money for your rings rather than asking his family for help.

G = Gentle How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is the definition of a Gentle Giant. Really, it’s something that first grew from his mom always fussing at him to be a big boy so as to not make Gabriel upset, but his Grandma has always been so kind to him because she felt that Conchata treated him differently than Gabriel. 

ᰔ ᩚ Physically, he’s always extra aware of his surroundings because now, not only is he tall, but he’s also wide. There’s a new strength to him that he learned to control after roughhousing with Gabriel got a little too rough, ending in a fractured wrist bone. Miguel was crying more than Gabriel on the way to the hospital. He ended up helping him in saxophone practice for weeks. For you, you’re like his personal weighted plushie. He’s not going to be too rough, just firm squeezes every now and then. 

ᰔ ᩚ Emotionally, he’s always careful of what he says to others. It takes A LOT for him to yell or blow a fuse. He knows how much words can hurt so he never wants what he says to be the reason that someone is hurt. He cries at the drop of a hat. He’s gotten better at not crying so easily, but he definitely can’t see people he cares about cry. That night that you sobbed in his arms, he cried a little with you then and a lot while you were in the shower. When you first got together, he feared that his tears might be the breaking point for you but every time he cries in front of you, you’re there to wipe them away. 

He’s definitely crying on your wedding day.

H = Hugs Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

ᰔ ᩚ He loves hugs, but he’s certain that his family is sick of his hugs. Just like how big dogs don’t realize how big they are when curling up somewhere, he is very similar when he goes to hug his closest family. His Abuela will often fuss about how he’s just a big baby and Gabriel sets a three-minute time limit, claiming that he’s going to transfer his body heat if he hugs past that. His dad is not really known for hugging and his mom gets irritated too fast. You are the only one who can stand his hugs that feel like they last a lifetime. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s hugs feel like really warm firm clouds. His waist is itty bitty so your arms can completely go around it but if you put your hands in other areas, he’s bound to start borderline purring. You’re a lot softer than him so he craves seeking you out for hugs. He likes to give them for any occasion: when you’re about to part, when you see each other for the first time in a while, when you finish a set, when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re out shopping and are indecisive about which color of a product you should buy, when you’re taking too long in the art store, when you’re fresh out the shower, etc. He’s just a cuddle bug read: clingy boyfriend.

I = I love you How fast do they say the L-word?

ᰔ ᩚ [According to the story] Miguel calls you his love over the phone during Thanksgiving break which is about four months after knowing you and about three months into dating. He calls you his darling by the time the New Year comes around, he also won over your mom a little after Valentine’s, and he admits to himself that he’s falling in love by the time the spring semester has ended.

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t say he loves you out loud until the dinner party after everyone pisses him off which is roughly seven months into dating. However, all of his actions from the handwritten cards to the handmade crafts to the thoughtful gifts to the sweet words have all been signs of his growing love for you. Quite frankly, he would have told you he loved you sooner if he didn’t want to freak you out and he tells you so the night his mother demeans you.

J = Jealousy How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

ᰔ ᩚ You haven’t seen the extent of how jealous Miguel can get, truly, you just know of the couple of times he’s almost knocked people out or been completely rude to the people he’s thought were trying to lead you on when he was standing right there. He has shocked himself with how green he gets but it doesn’t stop him from feeling that way. When he gets jealous, he’ll find little ways to show others that you’re his such as PDA, lingering a bit too close to you, glaring directly at others whose eyes are planted on you for far too long, or getting really mean towards people who make advances.

ᰔ ᩚ Oddly enough, he’s never aware of the things that he does that attracts others because he’s so busy trying to be cordial that it may come off as flirty. It’s very hard for him to push people off him because that’s never really happened to him until he started bulking up and again, he doesn’t want to hurt people that haven’t hurt him.

K = Kisses What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s kisses are consuming and soft, warm and inviting. He gives you his full attention and pours his entire heart into it. The feeling of him against you only really leaves you wanting more, so you have to snap out of it and tell yourself to regain control. He could probably spend an entire day just in your face making out without ever going further, but he might need frequent trips to the bathroom to calm himself down. 

ᰔ ᩚ He likes to kiss you on your lips mostly but his other favorite places to kiss you are your stomach, your collarbones, and your thighs. He has to limit himself from leaving marks all over your skin because he’s keen to do it if you don’t stop him. He also likes to be kissed on the lips and he especially loves it when he doesn’t expect them. Surprise kisses have him on cloud 9 for the rest of the day. He really loves it when you won’t bother to reach up to him or lean him down and you settle on kissing him in the middle of his chest. It feels like your lips warm up his heartbeat. Lastly, he feels ignited when you leave kisses on his back, especially the back of his neck. To him, it’s like a promise for more or a way to ignite him. Start kissing his back and he’s not letting you leave him for at least 20 minutes. 

L = Little ones How are they around children?

ᰔ ᩚ Kids use him like a jungle gym. He is a fan favorite amongst his baby cousins who are always asking to be thrown in the air. He would think some babies would be afraid of him, but once they’re in his arms, they’re either really excited about how high off the ground they are or they’ll fall asleep instantly in his arms. 

ᰔ ᩚ He’ll often tire the babies and kiddos out and his family will find him in a pile with him as the pillow to little heads. 

ᰔ ᩚ Another key thing is that he won’t use baby voices with babies, but rather he’ll talk to them like normal human beings. It’s very useful when he has to break up fights between his baby cousins who often argue over who gets to play with him first.

M = Morning How are mornings spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Mornings with Miguel are more like Miguel going to do his workout while you sleep. You’re not really a morning person, so you’re a bit drowsy whenever he kisses you all over your face before he leaves. He always chuckles at your sleepy state and urges himself to not get distracted, but more often than not, he wants to stay with you. Some mornings, he’ll get right back in the bed with you after his shower and kiss you until you wake up. 

ᰔ ᩚ On the mornings that you do go with him to the gym, it’s mostly him talking with you humming along one-word answers until you’re actually fighting for your life in the gym. Afterwards, he always takes you to go get breakfast whether that’s a smoothie or him making you something. 

N = Night How are nights spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Nights with Miguel are very loving! If you let him, he’d do everything from shower with you to brushing teeth together to skincare to hair care and so on. Being that both introverts and creatives often work/operate better at night, sometimes you both are up at all times of night doing anything. You could be drawing on your iPad while he’s up playing games with your feet in his lap.  

ᰔ ᩚ Sometimes this is also when he lets his most intimate thoughts slip out. With his head on your chest and your nails scratching against his scalp, he’s in his most vulnerable state.

O = Open When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than revealing things about himself, all of his drama just happens to unfold for him. The way he brought up Tyler Stone, the super famous tech CEO, being his father just happened to be the time when you were doing something extremely serious. 

ᰔ ᩚ He can tell you things and open up about his past, but you never really grasp how serious it is until it appears before your eyes. His turmoil with Kron was 4+ years in the making and the first time you met Kron just so happened to be the time Miguel connected his fist to his face. His relationship with his mom is something that’s been an uphill battle and you haven’t really seen how bad it can get, but you’ve felt how cruel she could be. Tyler's yearning for a relationship with his youngest son is something you see happening in real-time. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is as open as he can be, but nothing ever really prepares you for the real deal.

P = Patience How easily angered are they?

ᰔ ᩚ It takes a lot to push Miguel’s buttons because he often lets things pile up and boil over. He’s not easily pushed to true anger until someone hurts the people he loves. One time, Gabriel kept coming home crying but he wouldn’t tell Miguel who was hurting him. Once Miguel found out, he ripped the kid a new one which led to Conchatta grounding him for a week. His Abuela was proud of him for standing up for his brother and Gabriel snuck him sweets when he thought their parents weren’t looking. 

ᰔ ᩚ He really wanted to say more to his mother that night she hurt you, but Kron took most of the brunt of that anger which helped him level out a more reasonable response to his mother. He doesn’t like seeing you hurt especially over things that he finds to be beautiful about you.

Q = Quizzes How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been taking in details about you ever since he first saw you in his Biology class. It was almost as if he was studying you. He knows your favorites, he remembers your friends, he listens to you constantly, and stores things for later. He even begins to know the subtle habits that you have. 

ᰔ ᩚ The only things that tend to go over his head are when you mention really advanced art techniques. As much as he tries, it never really sticks. He also conveniently forgets how often he asks for cuddles.

R = Remember What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a bank of lovely memories about you stored in his mind (and many more to come 😗). One of his favorite memories was when you went out of your way to make sure that those sorority girls got suspended. He often lets bad things happen to him until he can't control it, but you immediately caught the situation and nipped it in the bud right away. He’s never really had anyone do anything to that extent for him as fast as you did and even though he knew he wanted to pursue a relationship with you before, from that moment he knew that you were special.

ᰔ ᩚ Another memory is the last-minute birthday present that you got for him. It was so thoughtful and sweet and he’s constantly using it. The two of you were only at the sproutings of a relationship so to make such an impactful gift meant a lot.

S = Security How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s extremely protective. This means little things from making sure that he’s the one walking closer to the street and watching your drink while you’re dancing to big things like intervening when men don’t catch the hint to roughing up men that don’t respect your boundaries. He’s willing to use his brute strength in order to make sure no harm comes to you but he hopes it never has to get to that point. He’d rather use his strength to carry you in his arms. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel doesn’t really feel the need to be protected but when you go out of your way to protect him, he can’t help but think that it feels nice. Like, look at my girlfriend going out of her way to make sure that I’m alright, to make sure that I know that I deserve to be protected too. There’s really no other feeling like it to him.

T = Try How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel goes through so much effort for anything that involves you. He tends to go a little stir-crazy when planning. He marks up his calendar, sets appointments, makes calls, pulls certain strings: anything he can do to see a smile on your face. He remembers so many details about you just so he can pull together the perfect gift. With Tyler trying to get on his good side, he may or may not have asked him to help him out with things that are on the expensive side. 

ᰔ ᩚ However, there are things he does that does not involve so much money. Your cafe dates, your study dates in the library, your handmade gifts, and your nights riding around in his Range Rover getting late-night food. If you’re sick, he’ll bring you tea and make you soup. He’s there when you’re cramping, soft hoodie on and heating pad in hand. He waits for you after your art classes, ready to carry your portfolio across campus. He takes your glasses off when you fall asleep with them on and soaks your oil brushes when you’re in a rush. He cares about you deeply.

ᰔ ᩚ Your one-year anniversary is soon…what does Miguel have planned? 🤔

U = Ugly What would be some bad habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a nasty habit of overthinking. He often thinks too much for his own good, which is why exercising is so close to him as it forces him to focus on his form and his sets rather than the running hamster wheel of words in his mind. His overthinking could lead to imposter syndrome which in turn causes him to question whether or not he deserves the nice things he has, whether or not he deserves to be with you. With the big reveal of the man he’s known all of his life not actually being his dad, it really only dug a deeper hole into the habit he’s had ever since his mom’s different treatment of him versus Gabriel.

ᰔ ᩚ On the other end of the spectrum, he can be a bit of a perfectionist which can lead to stubbornness. Conchata has berated him all of his life, so at first, he felt the need to appeal to her good side as her son. The older he got, the more this turned into battles of proving her wrong. No, he wasn’t a bad influence on Gabriel. Yes, he could get all A’s and stay up playing video games. No, he wasn’t afraid to end up alone. Yes, he would try to go to some far-off college. 

ᰔ ᩚ His relationship with his mother is far from fixed, and there's no telling how these habits are to continue to affect his other relationships.

V = Vanity How concerned are they with their looks?

ᰔ ᩚ At first, Miguel would just own a few nice looks here and there. He’d only really care about the quality of his graphic tees, the softness of his sweaters, and trying to avoid high-water pants. Between his parents and his grandma, a lot of the clothes he got made him resemble a lanky old man. It wasn’t until he started to bulk up that his wardrobe took a change. His old tees could barely fit over his arms and the bigger ones got turned into crop tops to chill out in. His sweaters went to Gabriel who threw them in the deepest pits of his closet. 

ᰔ ᩚ Gabriel ended up styling him at one point which resulted in a lot of extra basketball shorts and god-awful t-shirt hoodies. If it weren’t for Dana and his older cousins telling him that he looked like an extra off of Jersey Shore, he would have never changed. He quietly asked Tyler for some kind of stylist which in turn helped him to find more clothes that fit his new body type. 

ᰔ ᩚ When you come around, you expand his style even more with your eye for detail and your insistence on having coordinating outfits. You know what looks good on him and with the way your eyes trail his body, he for sure knows what you think is hot.

W = Whole Would they feel incomplete without you?

ᰔ ᩚ Absolutely. 1000%. (More of this will play out a bit in Part 10…)

ᰔ ᩚ Obviously, in any Honeymoon stage of a relationship, the couple can feel extremely lonely without their other half. Miguel is an absolute yearner. He hates parting ways no matter how at ease he feels by himself. He never really thought of himself as someone who needs a partner, but now that he has you, he’s trying to juggle between knowing when to give you space and knowing when to impede your space. He feels a lot lighter when you’re around, a lot freer. Tackling college felt so foreign to him, but with you, he feels like he can conquer anything. 

ᰔ ᩚ If you were to ever leave this world before him, there would already be enough bits and pieces of you left to fill the half of his missing heart. The only thing is, he would miss your presence dearly and that radiant smile of yours. In his dreams would be the only place where he could feel whole again. X = Xtra A random headcanon for them.

I have three

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves PDA, but sometimes, you’re still a bit shy about it, so you found a compromise: a fidget ring. When he wants to love on you so bad that he can’t stand it, but you’re hyper-aware of the people around you, he’ll take your hand and just start spinning the ring. It’s your sign that he’s craving your touch. It doubles as a distraction when you’re in crowded spaces and his energy levels are low. You can tell when he’s ready to leave an event with the way he’s fidgeting with the ring. A slower tempo means he wants to exit a conversation, a faster tempo could mean he’s overwhelmed or nervous, and moving the entire ring around means he’s ready to go. It’s an effective system for communication between the two of you.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves, loves, LOVES girly pop music. It gives him so much energy during his workouts and what’s better is that they’re really catchy. He hasn’t gone out of his way to watch any of the music videos or learn the dances, but take him to a concert, and he’s bound to know the words. He also has a high chance of being put on the Jumbotron or being called up on stage which could lead to intense screams from others and an awkward dance from him. Gabriel has a stan account that he refuses to show his brother’s face on because he knows it’s bound to be his most popular post.

ᰔ ᩚ Even though he’s extremely book smart and intelligent, when it comes to you, the Himbo gene activates. One compliment from you, no matter how small it is, could have him grinning like a fool all day. Whatever it is you complimented him on will be brought to the forefront constantly. He’ll buy a horrid amount of cologne just because you said you liked the way he smelled that day. He’ll take pictures of himself at the same angle because you thought one photo of him was good enough to put as your phone background. He’ll get worked up with one touch in public from you, especially if you haven’t touched him all day that day. He might even do something that you mentioned off-handedly from a TikTok or a tweet like buy a t-shirt with your face on it or have the lights on his Range Rover doors reflect your name. Sometimes you have to tell him to cool it, but if you praise him for it, he’s going to keep doing it.

Y = Yuck What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

ᰔ ᩚ In general, Miguel doesn’t like when people aren’t direct. He’s not a mind reader so he prefers when people say exactly how they feel rather than beat around the bush. People have done that far too much with him so he gets irritated when he’s put in a situation where the other party is not being upfront with him. He also hates when people are bullies for no reason. He’s not here to figure out why someone is taking out their insecurities on others but he will put them in their place. 

ᰔ ᩚ He also severely hates when people interrupt his sets. If you see he’s using the machine and he’s in the zone, why are you bothering him? He likes to think that he gives off the energy of a determined Gym Bro but in reality, he just looks really hot racking up those weights. Either way, don’t fuck up his set.

ᰔ ᩚ In a partner, he wouldn’t want someone that disrespects his family. He knows it’s a little dysfunctional, but his partner has to be truly dedicated to him before they even think about complaining about his family. He also tends to like his partners on the thicker side. He’s for all bodies, but he prefers when his partner has something he can feel so he honestly wouldn’t like it if his partner was too much smaller than him. 

Z = Zzz What is a sleep habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel always needs to hold onto something when he sleeps. Whether that be the pillow, the comforter, or you, he needs something in his arms. It can make for a very hot bed so whenever you guys are going to sleep together or taking a nap, you make sure to have a fan right by the bed. More often than not, he’s sleeping without a shirt on.

ᰔ ᩚ One other habit is how he gets when he’s really sleepy. He gets a bit whiny and grabby with tears threatening to fall with how much he’s yawning. He’ll say things that he won’t remember the next day like how pretty you are or how much he loves you. He might talk in his sleep a bit before he’s completely out of it which makes for hilarious videos. Like this, his snores are a little louder and his face pressed against the pillow is super cute. 

ᰔ ᩚ In the morning time, when he doesn’t have a workout planned, he might have a little drool from how hard he slept. If you wake up before him, he’ll squint at the light and mumble about what time it is. 

[THE MAJORITY OF THIS SECTION CONTAINS THE TRUE SPOILERS]

A = Aftercare what they’re like after sex

ᰔ ᩚ During sex, he gets in a specific mindset similar to the one he has in the gym, so it might take him a minute or so to snap out of it. He’ll be so wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment that he’ll forget that he needs to stop and make sure that you’re ok. Once he’s back focused, he’ll wipe your body clean and massage the muscles he’s sure to have stretched out. After that, he’s in dire need of cuddles and kisses.

B = Body part their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

ᰔ ᩚ Other than his face, which he agrees is pretty hot, his favorite body part of his own might be his arms. He worked hard for them! He’s always shocked looking back at old pictures of himself, seeing how he’s nearly triple the size, and wondering who that guy is. He also thinks that the Stone side has blessed him greatly with his dick. He’s always been well-endowed. When you came into his life, he found a new great appreciation for his own thighs, although he’s still battling with the thought of you wanting to be choked in them.

ᰔ ᩚ For you, what part of you doesn’t he like? He couldn’t really choose if his life depended on it because there’s so much to love. However, there’s no better feeling than the weight of your ass and thighs against his lap. If you could use him as a chair constantly, he’ll never complain. It’s the perfect position for him to feel you up and plant his face right in your cleavage. If your back is to him while you’re on his lap, then his hands are immediately on your stomach. You used to hate it at first because he would just squeeze at it or tickle you constantly, but he really loves to place his hands on the warmest parts of you, and right under your stomach happens to be one of those zones. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he said he liked his forehead being pressed up against your stomach while he ate you out, you wouldn’t get mad, right?

C = Cum anything to do with cum, basically

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel hasn’t really talked about it with you but, he especially loves it when he marks you. You always look so pretty with him painted across his skin, and he has so much to give. When his dick is down your throat and you try your best to swallow all of him, he feels feverish when it spills out down your face. He can’t help but think about how gorgeous you look. When he’s fucking your thighs and it spills onto your skin he just wants to rub it in.

ᰔ ᩚ When he’s inside of you and it just won’t stop dripping out of you, it riles him up even more. You’re his and his alone.

D = Dirty secret pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

ᰔ ᩚ He does have a few! One of which is fantasizing about you riding him on the bench press bench while the other side of the gym is occupied. It’s so unlike him, and when the thought first passed his mind, he was so ashamed he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes for a day, nor use the bench press without getting lightheaded. Just the thought of you leaning over him blocking out the bright lights of the gym, sweat dripping onto him,  and watching your ass hit his skin in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors was enough to get him to plan out how to build out his gym in his future home. 

ᰔ ᩚ Another is the amount of times he’s gotten off to the thought of you before you were officially together. He told you about the wet dreams, but he didn’t tell you how bad it was. He’s not sure if he’s ever produced that much cum in his life. It’s a wonder he was able to hold steady conversations with you with how head-over-heels he was. He fantasized about the sounds you would make and tried to remember how your body felt against his from the little touches you gave him. He tried to hone it down because, god, that’s creepy, but you were so radiant that you never really escaped his mind.

E = Experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is what I deem as a “virgin slut.” He’s very inexperienced when it comes to love, relationships, and sex, but he knows too much by proxy.  Again, he’s the parent friend that’s always giving advice, so for the most part, he knows what and what not to do. He’s heard about the things that his friends have done and he’s wondered what experiencing it would be like with you.

ᰔ ᩚ Would you like this position? Would you want to try this with him? Does he want to know what this would feel like? While he feels a little embarrassed to be so inexperienced, he’s happy that you’re excited to share these new experiences with him.

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of sex and foreplay, he’s learning as he goes, going with what feels good and what you react well to. He’s constantly researching, remembering, and trying out new techniques. You’re his first, and if he has any say in it, his last, so he feels that there is plenty of time to get to a more experienced level.

F = Favorite position this goes without saying

ᰔ ᩚ Any position where your breasts are in his face is a position he’s happy in. There’s nothing like watching them bounce while you ride him within an inch of his life. He wants to look at them, he wants to put his mouth on them, he wants to suck them, he wants to bite them: just put them in his face.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel also really adores any position he can hold you in. He notices how excited your body gets when he’s balancing you in his arms while pounding away. You get so wet that he’s mesmerized. The tight feeling of both you around him and your shaking hands gripping his shoulders keeps him going. He really just wants to see every ounce of your body move with him.

ᰔ ᩚ Did he tell you that he wanted you to sit on his face today or did he forget to set his reminder? 

G = Goofy are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is very serious in the moment because nothing is funny about your pleasure. All the laughing and giggling will happen before he’s sinking into you. He’s very serious about watching your face and your body for anything new and familiar. Did you think something was funny before? Well, he’s making sure that you’re not laughing by the time he’s finished.

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than being goofy, he will ask you something out of left field in the middle of the moment if he feels that you two have something to work out.

H = Hair how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is not the hairiest but he also doesn’t not have hair. His friend waxed him for practice one time and he’s certain that he’ll never let her do that shit again. He keeps his face clean because he feels like growing out his facial hair makes him look scruffy, although you’d argue that he looks pretty cute. 

ᰔ ᩚ His happy trail does lead like a nice present to his gift that keeps giving. He will let you trim him from time to time and help him wax when the sun is getting too hot. 

I = Intimacy how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

ᰔ ᩚ He is very intimate during the moment, especially during your first few times together. He’s always reassuring you and holding you close. His eyes never really leave your face when you’re pleasuring yourself or reaching your peak. He loves to talk into your skin and your ears. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he’s not grabbing onto you, he’s holding your hands and rocking into you. He’s kissing your wrists and your cheeks, wiping any tears away. Where you might not be able to speak, he’s asking yes or no questions, wiping your hair out of your face, and telling you to let go. 

J = Jack off masturbation headcanon

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s sessions usually take a lot, but since gaining a roommate, he can’t go all out like he usually does. He cums a lot so he usually has to put a towel down or waits until he gets into the shower to fully let go. He prefers to use both hands whether that means lifting his hips off the bed while he jerks or holding his dick in one hand while playing with his nipple in another. 

ᰔ ᩚ His sessions after you both get together were even messier, especially with you giving him new material. Voice recordings, polaroids, phone calls: all of it is being used for him to get off when you’re not near. 

ᰔ ᩚ Once, you called him in the middle of one and he was winded as ever. You recognized those breaths the instant he talked and brought him to the hilt with your voice alone. He fell a little more in love with you that day but panicked when you wanted to switch to FaceTime. 

ᰔ ᩚ His chest was….a mess, but you giggled at how cute he was anyway. 

K = Kink one or more of their kinks

ᰔ ᩚ Praise kink: Miguel loves to hear that he’s doing well. Please tell him that he’s doing well, he craves it. There’s definitely a reason that he needs to hear you urge him on, but your voice always sounds so good when you’re in his ear. Tell him how good he made you feel, tell him you’re proud of him, and maybe call him a good boyfriend and he’ll start trembling. 

ᰔ ᩚ Hair pulling: This is one that he didn’t know he had until you accidentally yanked his head too hard while trying to stop him from tickling your stomach with his breath. He kind of froze when the groan came out of him, leaving you staring at each other for about three minutes. Once he realized what happened, his face went beat red and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes for the rest of the night. You promised him it was ok, and tested out a little hair-pulling a few weeks later which he thoroughly enjoyed. He especially loves it when you pull his hair while he’s in between your legs. He cums almost instantly. 

ᰔ ᩚ Semi-public sex: There’s something about fooling around in “private” public areas that turns him on. On the balconies of hotel rooms, in private yacht pools, in dressing rooms, in his car: he just can’t wait until he’s in the bedroom, he needs you now. Are you both louder than you should be? Yep. Does he care? Not really. 

L = Location favorite places to do the do

ᰔ ᩚ Again, he loves semi-public sex, but he also really loves even more intimate places like on vacation in your hotel room or on your dorm bed when Jess isn’t in there. (Although you’ve told him many times that having sex in that open room could be rude. As a compromise, he brings you to his dorm and fucks you there instead. Peter can live.) He really wants to make love to you in his childhood bedroom (the room is full of him but he wants your scent in his sheets), but he knows his mom is far too nosy for that to even happen. He’s not even sure if he could make out with you without her coming in there to check on you two. 

M = Motivation what turns them on, gets them going

ᰔ ᩚ Honestly, you could probably just stand there and Miguel would conjure up a way to be turned on. Seriously though, it’s little things like seeing your midriff or hearing you call him baby in a different tone, especially if you’re doing something sexual, that gets him going. If you do something like extensive PDA (rubbing up against him, kissing him long enough to use tongue, dancing on him), wear clothes that show off your body, or when you stare at him while he’s doing his work.

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re wearing a dress that he can see your fupa through? Hard. When you’re doing jumping jacks next to him in the gym during his sets? Turned on. When you wear his clothes? Rock solid. When you take the initiative? Puddy. When you let others know that he’s yours? You might not make it to your destination without him touching you in some way.

N = No something they wouldn’t do, turn offs

ᰔ ᩚ He’s not into degradation AT ALL. He’s way too much of a gentle lover/boyfriend to ever put you on a lower level than him whether it’s supposed to be enjoyable or not. 

ᰔ ᩚ He is also not into pain specifically when it comes to giving it. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He might do a light smack every now and then but he can’t bring himself to inflict pain, especially if it bruises. The closest you might get to that is if he gets too carried away when pounding into you, and once it’s all over, he’ll feel like a dickhead. It takes him a while to realize that you don’t mind it when his skin is slapping against yours hard enough to sting later.

ᰔ ᩚ One last slight turn off is choking. He’s never going to be comfortable enough to wrap his hands around your neck. You’re determined to let his thighs squeeze you at least once, but if he hurts you by accident, he might do something incredibly drastic. 

O = Oral preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel O’Hara is a munch. Miguel Munch O’Hara. He could stay down there for hours. Being that the first time he ate you out he actually had you screaming, he would say that he’s pretty good at it. But! There’s always room for improvement. For example, he wants you to sit on him and he wants to heat you out while you’re sitting on his shoulders. He’s slowly, but surely, inching his way there.

ᰔ ᩚ He likes giving more than receiving mostly because he can’t look down at you giving him head without losing his mind. At least if he’s eating you out, he can keep going if he cums. If he cums while you’re swallowing him, he needs at least a minute or two to reset. Not to mention, the sounds your throat makes when you’re sucking him in makes him conflicted. You promise you like it, and he loves the feeling, but he’s still wary of fucking into your mouth and hurting you.

P = Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s pace is deep, slow, and sensual because he has to pace himself. If he’s wrapped up in you, he’s bound to forget about his own pleasure in place of making sure you’re feeling good, but once you get to sinking him in and squeezing so tight, he wants to hold that out as long as possible.

Q = Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ They seem nice. If only he could commit to them. Quickies often turn from 10 minutes to 20 minutes to way too long in a compromising position. Also, there’s way too much to clean up for what he does with you to be considered a quickie.

R = Risk are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ With you? He’s willing to try most things, although they’re mainly vanilla. Risks for him might lead to late night trips to CVS for a pregnancy test so it’s best that he researches and plans things out thoroughly. Right now, the most he might be eager to do is change up the positions and try not to touch you.

S = Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a lot of stamina! He’s not in the gym for shits and giggles. Still, to him, he has a lot of work to do in terms of going all night. Right now, he can last for about 2-3 rounds without breaking a sweat. If he focuses on you, he can extend that number to about 4 rounds. His refractory period is also pretty stellar if he must say so himself.

ᰔ ᩚ Now, whether or not you can keep up with him is to be determined. 

T = Toys do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been too scared to own a toy living in his mother’s home, so he’s never bought one. (How Gabriel got away with buying the most obscure things, he’ll never know) The only thing he has is the bottle of lube that he frequents and his extra sets of towels to cover his bed.

ᰔ ᩚ On you, he’s happy to try out whatever you’ve got. He was really fascinated with the mechanics of your rose toy, but he’s also determined to make you have the same reaction with just his mouth alone. What kind of boyfriend is he if he can’t make you forget about your tiny pieces of plastic?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s also interested in trying out different types of lube, but he’s got to research which ones are really worth it.

U = Unfair how much they like to tease

ᰔ ᩚ Open the dictionary, flip to the T section, slide down the pages until you find the word “tease,”  and you’ll see Miguel’s government name on the third definition of the word. He likes to claim that you’re a tease when really, he’s just a horny himbo. He knows what he’s doing when he sends you sweaty gym pictures. He knows what he’s doing when he dresses up all nice for you. He knows what he’s doing he’s all in your face in public, feening for a reaction out of you. He messes with you on purpose. 

ᰔ ᩚ Let this behavior make it to the bedroom and he’s either going to regret it once you take over OR he’s going to continue it until you’re coming apart in his arms. Teasing you always leads to great, great sex.

V = Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is loud as fuck. He has to cover his mouth when he’s alone in his room thinking about you. When he’s inside of you, if he’s not moaning into your mouth, he’s breathing heavy right in your ear or groaning loudly right into your shoulders. He’ll often be louder than you. If you’re moaning with him, he encourages you and sings right along with you. 

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re focusing on his pleasure, he’s hyper-aware of the sounds he makes so he tries to muffle them which leads to whimpers and whines. You love it when he gets this way.

W = Wild card a random headcanon for the character

ᰔ ᩚ Hip thrusts are a great exercise for the lower half of your body and should never be missed on leg day. They pinpoint the glutes, the abs, the hips, the hamstrings, the back, and the quads. With a steady added weight, anyone who is doing this exercise possibly is sure to grow those muscles greatly over time.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is never missing a chance to do hip thrusts because he is determined to fuck you this way. He can only imagine the shock on your face as he holds you up and pumps into you with a steady rhythm. 

ᰔ ᩚ He’s never missing leg day.

X = X-ray let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

ᰔ ᩚ He’s definitely a shower which is why his tiny little exercise shorts can get buck-eyed looks sometimes. The first time you saw him, you felt yourself panic a bit. But the weight in your mouth? Indescribable. 

ᰔ ᩚ To you, he’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. If you had to guess, he’s probably 8- 9 inches, but it doesn’t really matter when you’re watching him leak like a faucet. He curves so nicely and definitely feel the effect of it when he lands. Watching it twitch to life has given you more inspiration than you care to admit.

Y = Yearning how high is their sex drive?

ᰔ ᩚ It’s too high for his own good. He can switch like a light and be ready to go down in you within minutes. It’s that foggy himbo mindset and the fact that you’re his first girlfriend. There have been many times where he’s gotten distracted by just thinking about you and the things he wants to do. He riles himself up when researching techniques, so of course he’s ready to be in you at any time.

Z = Zzz how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

ᰔ ᩚ Once you’ve both settled down, he’s out like a log. Let’s be real, not only has he probably worked himself up, but you definitely knocked him out with how good you gave it to him. He uses all the stamina during sex and when it’s over, the energy just fizzles out. It’s funny because you would think you were supposed to be the one that’s barely holding on, but there he is, mumbling into your skin.

ᰔ ᩚ This is definitely the time to get really soft responses out of him: satisfied, pussy-whipped, and dozing off.

This was really fun! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

If you want to be on the taglist for future Gym Rat Miguel updates, sign up here! Make sure to have your age in the bio or somewhere on your blog! (Part 10 is in the works!)

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82

@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast

@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax

[korralone]

Caitlyn and Vi are truly one of my favorite sapphic romance stories I’ve ever had to the privilege to watch on screen. I’m constantly 🤪 when I think about the amount of story time that was dedicated to them, and the type of story that was told, as that’s not usually what we get with gay romances.

I keep seeing a lot of people dissatisfied/angry/etc with how their story went and it kinda bums me out so I just wanted to use this post to get my thoughts and feelings out (obviously everyone has their own valid opinions and won’t agree with me)

Cait and Vi not being uwu ��healthy” 24/7 and their inherent messiness is WHY I find them so compelling. From the moment they met there were already huge factors against them, both indirectly of their control (class struggle, power imbalance) and directly (personality clashes, communication styles). But they somehow grew to love each other anyway.

Caitlyn not saying “I’m sorry” out loud at any point to Vi by the end of the show, I honestly loved it. Because Caitlyn instead apologized with her actions, and Caitlyn’s actions always seem to speak louder than her words. Her letting go of the vengeance that consumed her for so long for Vi’s sake (which ultimately led to her allowing Vi to break Jinx out) was more meaningful to me than if they had some long blow out argument (and Vi recognizing this immediately and jumping Caitlyn’s bones then and there was just *chefs kiss* to me)

They’ll never be perfect. They’ll always have to work at their relationship. It won’t be pretty, sometimes even unfair. They’ll fight and clash and not always agree, but there’s always this persistent feeling of LOVE anyway, and they’ve decided they’ll put in the work to make their relationship last despite it all. And I think it’s beautiful.

[sharkylass]

YOU I LIKE YOU @faislittlewhiteraven These questions are a little hard to answer with doodles but I tried my best- Nil generally has a pretty heroic and brave personality overall. She's loud and brash and ready to jump into things super quickly.

She's not the best with words, but she is very reliable overall

More art and writing under cut, it's just a long post man-

In terms of helping about during travels, she likes doing a lot of heavy labor jobs- She's the type to fix broken fences, gather supplies for folks, carry stuff around, tend to crops or lend a help wrangling animals. Nil wouldn't be great at things like sorting and organizing tho- Just tell her what you need and where to put it and she will! I mentioned she's not really the best with words (she is very emotionally intelligent just sometimes struggles to communicate stuff), HOWEVER, With folks that have been frozen she connects with a lot. How it's scary that you've been frozen for so long when your entire belief is to change and evolve, how (if Mal Du Pays is anything to go by) they had to fight their own demons in there, how everything can change so easily without you even noticing- It's terrifying to think about.

Actually- a while ago I made battle sprites with Nil- I wasn't happy with them so I never shared them BUT

Specifically I wanted to contrast her frozen sprite with everyone else's- Cause if she were to SOMEHOW be frozen again, knowing what it feels like, what could happen while she's out- It would TERRIFY her instantly. Not just a mild shock or surprise, it would stick with her for a while-

Speaking of battles tho-

Nil is super brash and lively as a whole. She puts up a brave face for a LOT of things, including fighting. She jumps in without really thinking, and as long as it goes their way, she'd have a smile on her face doing it.

However, while brave, it does come from both a place of coping and naivety. She's not used to genuine fighting, in fight or flight situations she actually tends to flee. (Which is why honestly, if she had to fight the King I don't think she could do it-)

If a battle were to start going south, she'd actually start to panic more then anyone else- Physical wounds and seeing the people she loves hurt would lower her accuracy and general capabilities, despite the brave face she puts on.

And due to her lack of experience, especially in bigger groups- Nil tends to... miscalculate sometimes

She had to learn the hard way not to just jump at any opportunity she sees. The party can see where Bonnie got it from (also after the battle Nille proceeded to heal Sif, profusely apologizing, I forgot to doodle that whoops-) (Also gameplay wise, imagine every second turn she does an action of her own without your command)

Also just the Sif image by itself cause I liked it :]

As for chores and stuff-

She does foraging and stuff! Honestly I don't think the other 5 would have done so before they traveled together.

Mira would have most DEFINITELY learned about it but didn't feel confident in her abilities. Bonnie will grab stuff they think is edible from what they remember Nille telling them and they'd grab a stick to cook. Odile would not be interested and would prefer buying the ingredients rather then wild scavenging. Isa doesn't read to me as a biology student, I see him more of a math history type of guy, so either he doesn't know, or him and Mira did it occasionally together, but only as a last resort type of deal (maybe when it was just the two of them and they had to manage alone) And Sif in my mind is an accident prone goober who'd forget which ones are edible and which ones aren't so I wouldn't trust him personally.

SO! LONG STORY SHORT! I don't think any of them are really experienced with foraging. And as a means to make money management easier- I imagine Nil (nature being a passion of sorts to her) took up the mantle! Probably taught the rest how to do it too!

That's it when it comes to stuff specific to her- Other then that she's kind of ready to help out with anything! She can help set up tends, do odd jobs for money, help cook if for WHATEVER reason Bonnie wanted her to or wanted to do something else in that time, bring water, wood, fish, help with weapons- She's not the best at those things, but if anyone needs a hand to be lent- she is there!

I'll be entirely honest, I don't think I understand your last question- But I do wanna say that Nil and Isa become like. Best buds real quick. He is the first one she instantly trusts, since she rivals with Mira, is prickly with Odile and Sif is someone she wants to help rather then ask for help. So if she needs someone to turn to, or needs a partner in crime- Nil would turn to Isa And now I just imagined Mira and Nil bonding over how to grow plants. Cause Mira tried REALLY REALLY HARD and couldn't do it, so Nille would actually love to give some tips- Imagine Mira genuinely walking up to her with a little alive plant with a proud glint in her eyes and have Nil fully support her- Honestly I could keep going for forever, I have so many thoughts on her and her dynamic with everyone- Bro I even have nicknames, you don't even know-

BUT I'M GONNA CUT IT HERE, HAVE FUN, I'VE BROUGHT SOME FOOD FOR NOW-

[mybworlds]

Wintry dance

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You, after a very long trip alone across the country, arrive in Jackson. Joel is a very lonely man and after Ellie broke up with him, he's even more alone and grumpy. Tommy and Maria decide that you're going to stay at Joel's house for a while, at least until more houses are built. Will your cohabitation be easy? Or will it be more complicated than everyone thinks?

Warnings: use of you, use of alcohol, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, a short story about sexual assault that occurred in the past I won't go into details, violence, blood, lots of sexually explicit content, use of petnames, dirty talk, fluff elements, mutual pining, the main characters spy on each other for a while, the image of the female character has the sole purpose of representing the character, but you can imagine her however you want, unspecified age gap, no physical description of the female character except for long hair often gathered in a ponytail or braid, she wears a bra and jeans (most of the time).

A/N Hey there, I'm sorry to make you wait almost a month between one chapter and another, but I really care about writing everything well and so I often take more time to write. I hope you like it as much as I do and if you don't like it, please be merciful. Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

Winter comes and even the first snowflakes begin their wintry dance.

You love snow, from time immemorial. It gives you the idea of magic. You find yourself to smile behind the windows of the house.

Your life is finally regular, no unexpected events, no runaways, nothing. Everything is. . . strangely normal. You still struggle to get used to all this!

It's good for you. Finally you are not afraid anymore, you sleep in a really comfortable bed, you have a regular breakfast, lunch and dinner. You started going out with guys around your age a few days ago, you get out with Dina and Jesse even if they're younger than you, but it's okay. They are funny. And all you need now is to relax and let go a little, at least as much as you can.

From time to time, Jesse or Dina or sometimes Tommy call you for patrols and you go. You are really good to shoot with a bow, it's what people say about you and it's okay because it means you became part of a community, part of something and it's not bad as you thought.

Well, that's not all rosy. . . there's Joel who never changes his icy courtesy, after those strange moments you experienced together a few days ago. Not a word to you more than necessary, not a glance more than necessary. You don't know how long you can stay here in his house. Sooner or later he will tell you to go away, you're sure of it.

Where will you go? Probably you'll go to Dina's or Maria's. . . no idea.

Today it's your 40th patrol and you'll go with Joel. The idea doesn't excite you, but you don't want to be a troublemaker for anyone. Joel's annoyed look is enough.

The only sound is the hoof of horses in the snow, it's a good sound. Snow doesn't fall and at least you can find the way to go back to Jackson.

The two of you don't say a word, you often look at each other to point to a prey or if one of you see an infected. You kill at least three of those clickers before to get off the horse and heading into the forest. Joel is by your side, he's quiet, precise and a couple of times kills two runners who tried to reach you. You look at him surprised, "Thanks," you say.

"Uh, uh," it's his only reply.

After ten feet you ask him, "Those things were uhm. . ." you whisper.

"Runners, yeah." he says in the same tone as your.

"But it means. . ."

"It means they have recently turned into infected."

"So, it's probably. . ."

"Yeah, it's probably some of those things are somewhere around here."

You swallow looking at him, you are not afraid, it's not your first time. But you usually kill them alone and so you didn't have to think to anyone else except you, "Afraid?" he asks.

You look at him "No, but I always faced 'em alone. I never watched someone's back before."

"‘s okay, you won't start today," he says before to start to walk turning his back to you.

In some places, snow is deeper so your steps are slower and you often sunk, a couple of times Joel gives his hands to you to reach a higher point or to help you to walk, his hands are bigger than yours and his grip is firm. He holds you until you don't reach him then he abruptly lets go of your grip as if the mere contact with you bothers him.

Finally you see a deer, it's a good prey, you hold the string and then you let the arrow fly, the deer has no escape. Your arrow hits its neck, the poor deer tries to escape, but it falls to the ground dead.

"You really good," Joel says when the two of you reach the deer and he pulls the arrow away from its neck "I thought everyone was exaggerating,” he adds, bringing you right back down to earth.

"Thanks, let's take it away," you say tying it with a double rope so the two of you can drag it away.

You two don't talk on the way back, partly because of the cold and partly because you don't know what to say to each other. You hoped that that half-compliment would bring about a slight change in your relationship, but instead he immediately underlined his opinion of you. You only glance at each other from time to time and then return to focus on the road ahead of you.

The two of you reach your horses where you double rope the deer and then take off again and head towards Jackson.

"I can't wait to drink two large glasses of wine and fall asleep," he says, closing his eyes almost as if he's already savoring that moment, you notice how two dimples form on the sides of his cheeks when he gets that rare relaxed expression and you can't help but smile "What? Why d' ya smile?"

You shrug your shoulders, "When you make that face you're funny" you say unable to get your smile back.

"Glad to hear that! So, I'm some kind of clown!" he exclaims.

"No, clowns have always made me sad." you reply by wrinkling your nose.

When you look up at Joel, you see him staring at you, you frown in confusion.

“So, what is it that you like?” he asks you.

"Tsk, I know you're only asking out of politeness, not out of interest," you say.

Joel doesn't answer, you probably hit the nail on the head, you look ahead, you know he can't stand you.

It's evening. It's snowing again outside and it's very cold. Joel prepared the fire and strangely he didn't freeze you with his gaze nor did he give you the usual look with which he chases you away, you prepare a soup with meat and you bring him a plate that you place on his coffee table, then you turn your back and go to the kitchen, you're used to act like this with him. On the kitchen island there is also a hot dish for you that you prepared earlier, after two spoonfuls you hear a husky voice coming from the other room, "Why don't you come over to the fireplace? It's cold tonight."

You turn towards the fire and see Joel looking at you with the dish you prepared for him in his hands, "Come, won't bite" you look at his face as if to understand if he is joking or serious, his gaze is concentrated, but not hostile as usual so you nod, you get off the stool and you join him taking your dish with you.

He's sitting in an armchair, while you sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace. You look at him furtively at least a dozen times, then seeing him calmly eating, you imitate him.

The fire produces a familiar and pleasant crackling sound which heats both of you quickly and paints the walls and your faces a deep orange and black nuances.

"‘s good this soup!" he says savoring your dish down to the last spoonful.

"I'm glad you like it," you say, "is there any other dish you might like to eat? I can't guarantee success, but I'll try!" you exclaim trying to talk civilly with him without being attacked or cold-shouldered by his words..

He shakes his head, "Whatever it is, it'll be fine," he reassures you.

You nod.

For a while you only hear the crackling of the fire and the creaking of the burning wood, it's a strange but pleasant silence.

"You asked me earlier what it is that I like." you say after a while "I love the snow, seeing the snowflakes swirling in the air creating those little swirls. I love the expanses of wild flowers in spring or see a pristine meadow. I love going to the beach to see the ocean waves crash on the shore when summer arrives and then in autumn I love the carpets of red, yellow, brown leaves," you smile staring at the fire.

"You like nature, but. . . nothing about relationships with other people," he notes, you look up "You don't trust ‘em or is there some other reason?" he asks looking at you.

You bite your bottom lip, you find yourself looking at his face for a few moments before sighing, "Never mind. It's none of my business and I don't even care," he replies, suddenly freezing the room "Have you finished?" he asks you, getting up from the chair and pointing to the now empty plate in your hands, “Sure,” you reply.

"Good, gimme," he says, holding out his hand to take the plate that you immediately hand him, "If you wanna, stay close to the fire a little longer." he says as he's about to take his leave.

"Joel," he pauses, "I know I'm a burden to you, someone to get rid of, but I promise you, I'll try not to make you feel my presence too much, I know you don't wanna me around" you tell him, turning your torso partially towards him "when maybe they build more houses, I'll leave."

Joel stares at you in the semi-darkness and then he walks away without saying a word.

Actually, you love many other things, but you still don't feel completely at ease with Joel and above all he just admitted that deep down he doesn't really care what you like or what you're interested in.

Joel washes those two plates and those two spoons at least twenty times. He doesn't know what to replicate to your words and therefore he delays the moment when he will find himself alone with you again. The truth is he doesn't know what he wants right now. You're still a burden, you're still a hindrance to his routine, but it's become harder to treat you badly now. Maybe it was Tommy's words, maybe Ellie's or maybe it was you with all your unspoken words, your sweetness, your attitude, your look that made him understand that he's not the only one who suffers from something.

He pours himself a drink, he places his lips against the glass, but then he thinks better and puts the glass down.

"Fuck!" he exclaims, then dries the dishes and finally joins you.

By the time he reaches you, you are fast asleep. You're on your stomach and hugging the sofa cushion.

He watches you, he runs a hand through his hair, then takes two blankets and he places them on you. You visibly relax, Joel can even swear he saw you smile and twice in the same evening is a lot.

He sits in the armchair and turns on the small light on the side table, he puts on his reading glasses and then takes a book from the drawer of the side table.

He reads several pages, stopping every now and then when he hears you moan meaningless words in your sleep or when he sees you wrinkle your forehead. He takes off his glasses and places the book on the side table, he puts out the fire and puts on the spark arrestor, then fixes the blankets for you, he gives you one last look and then leaves. When he gets into bed, he realizes that it's the first time in probably months that he has reached his room sober.

When you wake up the next day, you have two warm, thick blankets over you. You stretch and yawn loudly, then you sit up and realize you're not in your bed, but in Joel's living room.

Did he let you stay here to sleep? This is really weird.

You get up and fold the blankets to the side, then you go to the kitchen and make yourself some coffee, it has a unique taste, but it's not that bad.

It's been a long time since you drank coffee. . .

You decide to make one for Joel, he's an asshole, but he'll still host you at his house. You take a cup that you imagine is his with an owl on it, you smile. The owl actually represents him very well, it's a nocturnal, solitary and extremely territorial animal.

You pour the coffee into the cup and go upstairs, the door to his room is almost completely closed, you knock weakly a couple of times, then open it. Joel is lying face up in the center of the bed, his arms completely open so that he takes up the entire bed, the pulled aside covers show his exposed torso.

You watch his thick fingers full of small cracks and cuts, his hands relaxed, his face is a mixture of sweetness and masculinity, the wrinkles are barely noticeable, the lips parted, his chest is broad as it looked and you watch a lot of scratches and a very large old scar on his abdomen.

You swallow, you lower your head unsure about what to do or what to say, maybe you have to go back to the hall and knock again and pretend you didn't stare at him for so long. You can almost hear his voice thundering against you.

Yes, you'll do so.

You are about to get out, when you hear him move into the bed and mumbles something to you, you clearly hear your name so you slowly turn your back to the door again, fuck. . .

"Hey, that's my mug!" he says with a sleepy expression and tone of voice.

You clear your throat and then you offer his cup, "Yeah, it is. Here."

He sits in the center of the bed exposing even more his torso. You look at him or rather you look at his bare chest.

He follows your gaze, “Oh, fuck. . . sorry, I'm wearing a t-shirt," Joel apologizes, as you see him lean towards a nearby chair and cover himself.

You look everywhere but him who is now wearing a grey shirt and reaches out a hand towards the cup you're holding out to him and begins to sip his coffee.

"D' ya feel uncomfortable?" he asks you all of a sudden.

You look at him again, "N - n - no," you say barely hold his gaze.

"‘s okay, darlin'. I won't bite." he says putting the cup on his bedside table "Comin' in a while, I'll see ya downstairs, okay?" you nod before to leave.

Darling?

No one has ever used these nicknames and above all you don't expect them from a person who is so openly hostile towards you.

Joel is a living enigma. He says such harsh words, but then he does such sweet things like tucking you in. You don't understand.

You walk down the stairs slowly feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest. When you reach the kitchen, it almost feels like someone has sucked the air out of your lungs.

Ralph. . . the thought of him suddenly comes back violently before your eyes.

You pour some cold water into a glass and sip it slowly, “Fuck...” you murmur sitting on a stool, you place your hands on the shelf feeling your head spin, you close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, counting from fifty backwards.

When you regain control of yourself, you get up and go out onto the porch, you find yourself thinking that you need to get out of this house as soon as possible.

In a certain sense your life has improved, you think, you have friends, days that are almost identical to each other, you have a roof over your head, food in your stomach, but your nightmares continue to haunt you.

You have pain everywhere. He beat you mercilessly, he punched you under an eye, he violently squeezed your wrists while he raped you, you stagger, you want to report what you lived, but in the QZ, when they saw you in that state, they thought you had been bitten and they pointed all sorts of weapons at you. You were shaking, you peed on yourself, you were raped and they were pointing guns at you and looking at you like you were filthy. After verifying that you were not infected, they listened to you, but their response was that they have much more serious problems than yours, that's what an officer told you when you told him why you were covered in blood and bruises. You are treated and a nurse gives you a painkiller, the same scene repeats itself before your eyes without stopping, you can't breathe. You fall asleep seeing Ralph push himself inside you with increasing violence and feeling your flesh tear under his thrusts.

You wake up with a start, screaming and waving your hands in the air to free yourself from his grip. You sit up and bring your knees close to your chest, you place your hands on your ears and burst into tears.

NEXT CHAPTER ➢

[k-nayee]

Between Faith and Flesh Grotesquerie x Midnight Mass

wc: 2.8k a/n: incase it was unclear, this is a little cross-over between Grotesquerie x Midnight Mass while also being an Actor!AU. Might be a lil confusing but wanted to make something new lol

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything....James 1:2-4." 

The familiar warmth of the chapel enveloped you as you delivered the final lines of your morning homily, your voice calm yet resonant in the quiet space.

Sunlight filtered through the modest stained-glass windows, casting soft hues of gold and amber across the worn pews where Crockett Island's tight-knit congregation sat.

The scent of salt and damp wood lingered faintly in the air—a reminder of the sea just beyond the church walls.

Your gaze swept across the group, catching the faces you had come to know so well over the past year.

The mayor's daughter Leeza Scarborough sat in the front row, wide eyes attentive on you as she folded her hands neatly in her lap.

Even Sheriff Hassan stood near the back as his son Ali sat near him listening intently, despite knowing how outdated many were to his Islamic faith.

These people, they had become your family in a way—this island, with all its quiet mysteries, had grown on you.

You closed your sermon with a passage on resilience, something that had always resonated with you—like how faith, similar to the sea surrounding them, could be both steady and tumultuous.

"We find strength not in the absence of struggle, but in how we rise after the waves pull us under." Your words hung in the air for a moment, met with soft nods and murmurs of agreement from the congregation.

"Let us pray," you began, your hands resting gently on the altar.

As you spoke your thoughts wandered briefly, like they often did, to Riley Flynn—a name you had known only through the accident that had first led you here.

His absence was a constant echo in the small populace community, felt even when it wasn't spoken aloud.

As the congregation stood to leave, you lingered near the altar to exchange kind words with those who came up to you.

A soft word here, a warm touch on the shoulder there—each gesture felt like a testament to how far you'd come.

This role, unexpected as it was, had become more than just a position. It was your calling.

"You've really made a place for yourself here," Anne said quietly, her expression sincere as she approached.

"Thank you Mrs. Flynn," you replied, offering her a gentle smile. "Means a lot coming from you."

And it did. Especially knowing how much of the weight of her son's sins pressed on her mind. 

It still surprised you sometimes how much the town had accepted you. Even when being the first ordained woman pastor—something that should have sparked outrage, especially in a small traditional community—the people had welcomed you with open arms.

Or at least most of them had.

The familiar sound of heels clicking sharply against the stone floor caught your attention.

Bev Keane.

She always had an aura of cold disapproval, her gaze flickering over you with barely concealed distaste.

"Another lovely service I'm sure," she said, compliment laced with her usual acidity. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she continued, "But I wonder if perhaps next time you might include more...traditional teachings? Some of the congregation finds your progressive messages a bit, well, out of step."

Her words stung, but you kept your expression calm refusing to rise to her bait.

Bev had never approved of your leadership from the start—the idea of a woman in your position, however temporary, was something she barely tolerates.

With every sermon you gave, every interaction with the townsfolk that went well, her bitterness seemed to deepen.

"I'll take your suggestion under consideration," you kept your tone firm. There was no point in arguing with Bev directly—it would only lead to more confrontation.

One thing you had long since learned about Bev's resistance was that it was more about control than doctrine.

She craved the power that came with influence over the church, and your very presence threatened that.

Bev's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Of course. Well I'll leave you to clean up. God knows there's always work to be done."

With a stiff nod she turned on her heel and marched away, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the doors.

As the last of the congregation departed, the chapel fell into a serene silence once again.

You exhaled softly, feeling the weight of the morning settle on your shoulders.

Despite the support of the community, moments like these reminded you of how precarious your position was.

You knew she was waiting for any excuse to discredit you—an outsider who had stepped into a role she believed was hers by right.

Busying yourself by tidying up, your hands smooth the fabric of the altar cloth as you cleared the space for the next service.

The chapel, now empty, felt both peaceful and solemn.

It was in these quiet moments that you often found yourself reflecting on the journey that had brought you here—from your small-town upbringing, to your studies, to this remote island where you now stood as the first ordained woman pastor.

The soft chime of your phone broke the stillness. Pulling the device from your pocket, you faintly smile at the name on the screen. Nick.

The message was short but familiar—a photo of him post-workout, his face flushed with exertion with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

Nick: Finishing up my workout. Just wanted to give you an update :)

Your could feel the warmth creeping up your neck.

You weren't sure why you were smiling so much—after all, it was just Nick being...Nick. Friendly, teasing, always with that infectious charm.

But somehow, the way your eyes lingered on the photo for a beat too long made you acutely aware of something deeper. Something you weren't sure you should be feeling.

Shaking your head slightly, you reply back.

____: Glad to see you're keeping busy!

You hit send, already imagining the smirk he'd have seeing your response.

As soon you tuck away your phone, intent on finishing the cleanup, another buzz came almost immediately.

Nick: Hope you weren't doing anything unholy with that picture of me ;)

The heat had spread to your face and a startled laugh slipped past your lips.

You quickly type back.

____:  Behave Nicholas. I'm a pastor remember? 

You knew he was just being playful, but it didn't stop the way your heart skipped slightly at the implications.

Unholy. The word reverberated in your mind longer than it should have.

Before you could dwell too much on it, another text came through.

Nick: Sure sure I believe you ;) Anyways got a surprise for you

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard, curiosity piqued.

____: A surprise? What kind?

Nick: You'll see. Just finished that project I told you about. Check your email when you get home. And no peeking. You promised

The reminder made you chuckle. ____: Fine fine I'll wait. It better be good especially with all this mystery!

You added a playful emoji at the end, the excitement clear in your message.

His response was immediate, and you could practically hear his voice.

Nick: Oh it's good. Don't worry I know you're going to love it.

You smiled at the screen, shaking your head at his confidence. Of course he'd know.

The faint echo of your steps on the wooden floor snapped you back to the present, making your thoughts drift back to his arrival, how it had all begun.

It was almost a year at the time when Father Pruitt had left on his pilgrimage, leaving you in charge of the church—a transition you hadn't anticipated but had eventually embraced.

And just as you were starting to find your footing, Nicholas Chaves had appeared, adding a new dynamic you hadn't expected.

Before he arrived to Crockett Island, you recall the unexpected email you received: a simple inquiry from the actor who was looking to deepen his understanding of priesthood for an upcoming role.

He wanted to shadow someone in the clergy, someone who could give him an authentic insight into the life of a pastor.

And he'd heard about your rather unique position on the island...

You of course were slightly taken aback by his openness and easy way he'd talked about his work.

It wasn't every day someone like Nick came knocking, but you had agreed mainly from intrigue of the whole situation.

Even when Bev became immediately suspicious of him—practically interrogating him when he first arrived—the rest of the town welcomed him warmly, charmed by his easygoing nature.

"Another distraction," she'd muttered once when Nick had offered to help you carry boxes of hymnals inside one time. "This is a church not a social club." 

Her words always came with that same bitter edge, though by now you'd learned to brush them off. 

He stayed in Father Pruitt's old house with you during that time in one of the spare rooms.

As you finished locking up and made your way toward the small home, your thoughts drifted back to him.

You never planned on feeling so affected by him. Yes he was charming, but it was more than that—there was something about him that drew you in even when you tried to resist it.

And it wasn't just his looks—though you couldn't deny the way your breath occasionally caught when he smiled at you in that boyish way of his.

No. It was his presence. The way he carried himself—confident yet curious, never shying away from asking questions about your work and sermons, about faith itself.

He was genuinely interested, even if he wasn't fully immersed in it like you were.

In all, conversations with Nick were easy; late-night talks often ended up stretching longer than intended as you discussed everything from theology to the little absurdities of life.

And yet despite the growing comfort, there had always been a tension simmering beneath the surface.

The first time you felt the it was when he'd sat in on one of your late-night study sessions, helping you prep for Sunday Mass.

His quiet attentiveness as he listened to you practice, his casual lean against the doorway as he watched with a smile tugging at his lips.

Now, as you made your way up the steps, you wondered what this surprise of Nick's could be.

You pushed the front door open, the familiar scent of wood and old books greeting you.

It was home now—at least for the time being. Letting out a sigh, you set your bag down and make your way to the bedroom.

Changing your robes and veil into a more comfortable sleepwear, you grab your laptop and settle into bed.

There in your inbox, you find a sent email from him.

Three video files, each with a timestamp of about an 50 minutes. The subject line read simply: For You.

You frowned in confusion but quickly clicked on the first one. The video loaded, and as it played, the familiar face of Niecy Nash popped up on the screen.

A soft laugh escaped you—a TV show? It wasn't what you were expecting, but you were intrigued.

As the episode unfolded, you were drawn into the storyline.

It was refreshing actually, seeing a concept that brushed against the edges of a religion that's intertwined with your own daily life.

By the second episode you were completely hooked. You'd grown attached to the characters, loving the way they navigated this warped world of morality and sin.

The storyline itself was intense and unpredictable in how it blended the very faith you preached into something so viscerally raw.

But then your heart leapt a little as Nick—or rather, Father Charlie finally appeared on screen.

You smiled, unable to resist snapping a picture of the scene and sending it to him with a simple teasing text.

____: Look who just showed up on my screen.

Your phone buzzed almost instantly, but you ignored it.

You were too caught up in watching him; your eyes tracing the way he moved, the way his expression shifted with every word.

It was surreal watching him play a priest when just a few weeks ago, he had been standing beside you in the church helping with the altar cloths.

Every close-up of his face had your heart doing an odd little flip. You'd shared conversations with that face, shared jokes and moments of comfort. 

The goofy smile on your lips was hard to suppress as you watched him banter with Sister Megan, the two having a light giggle over stolen fries.

You couldn't help but draw parallels between the man on the screen and the man you had grown close to—the actor who had been nothing but kind, thoughtful, and, admittedly, a little flirtatious.

And then the scene change.

The camera panned across a dimly lit, sparsely furnished room. Your eyes narrowed, focusing in on the figure sitting at the edge of a bed.

It was Father Charlie—his broad, bare back flexing as he sat, hunched slightly. The room was silent except for his soft labored breathing.

You watch with growing confusion as his breathing deepens.

A soft sound escapes him—a low moan—and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifts entirely.

Your eyes widened upon realizing what you were seeing. Father Charlie is pleasuring himself.

The sounds of his quiet sighs fill the room, and you freeze as you try to process what you're watching. 

The camera caught it all: the soft sighs, the slow measured pace of his hand, the quiet moans that grew more strained with every movement.

You felt your breath hitch, heat creeping up your neck as you watched too stunned to look away.

You know it's just a show—it's just acting—but seeing Nick, someone you know, in such an intimate and vulnerable moment...it shakes you.

Your body feels hot, heart pounding as Father Charlie quickens his pace, his breath becoming more erratic, moans growing louder.

A strange warmth unfurled in your chest that you immediately tried to suppress.

It felt wrong to watch this—wrong to feel anything about it.

Your fingers tremble as you reach for your laptop, the desire to pause or stop the episode battling with the inexplicable pull to keep watching.

And then it changed again.

The camera cuts to him standing at a basin, his back to the facing you once again, the muscles in his back flexing under the low light.

You blink rapidly as he begins to wash his hands, the sound of the water almost deafening in the silence.

That's when you notice it—the chaps. He's wearing bottomless chaps, the skin of his thighs and backside completely bare.

"Sweet baby Jesus," you whisper, hands shaking as you press a hand to your mouth in attempt to contain the heat that spreads across your face.

It wasn't over.

Father Charlie moved toward a small wooden box, opening it with a reverence that made your stomach twist.

He reached inside and pulled out a flogging whip—a thick, multi-tailed instrument of punishment.

His expression is solemn, his lips moving in silent prayer as he prepares the whip, his fingers brushing reverently over the strips before raising the instrument of self-punishment.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you watch, unable to tear your eyes away as Father Charlie strikes himself.

The sharp crack of the whip fills the room and you flinch at the sound.

Each lash is deliberate. His body jerks with every strike, a soft grunt escaping him with every hit.

His whispered prayers mix with the sounds of his punishment, the intensity of the scene almost unbearable as it goes on, each crack of the whip sending a shiver down your spine.

It's too much. You couldn't take it anymore.

Your hand shot out, scrambling to close the laptop with a thud. For a moment you couldn't move.

Your body felt both heavy and weightless at the same time, suspended in the strange space between what you knew and what you had just witnessed.

The room around you suddenly felt too small, too close.

Shakily, you brush a few stray strands of hair from your damp forehead, trying to steady yourself.

You were a pastor—dedicated to God, to the people you served. You weren't supposed to feel like this.

Closing your eyes tightly, you try to will the feeling to go away and dissipate like the smoke from the candles you had blown out earlier in the church.

But the heat in your face, the trembling in your hands, didn't fade.

You felt as though you had been thrust into a battle between your devotion to God and the temptation of something far more dangerous—something you could no longer ignore.

The dim screen of your phone in your peripheral catches your attention.

Hesitant, you picked it up, and your stomach drops at the sight of Nicholas's message.

Nick: What do you think?

[minimujina]

wriothesley is an old lover, i think. he’s tough and strong and oh-so-ruggedly handsome; he’s a gentle handler, a slow mover. it takes knowing someone a long time before he can either fall in love with them or, if he happened to fall fast and hard, get the guts to do something about it.

when he does something about it, it’s so romantic and genuine and sweet that you’ll want to metaphorically throw up. in a time where things move so fast—technology makes strides every day, engineers are speeding along the progress of society, and people become daily entangled in small trysts of passion, leaving fragments of themselves scattered—wriothesley moves deliciously slow.

it makes you feel so special, the way he practically courts you. he’s so god damn respectful of everything about you, it’s disgusting. the simple ways he shows affection for you are so beautiful and veneratingly intimate that it almost feels vulgar. wriothesley naturally creates a space around himself that is so safe and so quiet, you melt into vulnerability before you can even think. he makes it easy to be relaxed, and that can be scary when you are used to being on guard.

he is patient, and he’s kind. he’s certainly not perfect, as no one can be—he has his flaws, and he recognizes his own shortcomings. though easy to talk to, easy to get along with, wriothesley does guard his heart carefully, masking himself and his intentions until he’s gauged the trustworthiness of a companion. it can sometimes be difficult to bring the defenses down, even in the most trusted presence; he is used to being fully performative, fully vigilant. he can struggle to communicate in this stage, because he is uncertain of himself and others and, frankly, everything all at once. but once the wall comes down, he’s all authentic, coming as he is without the pre-painted mask.

i feel as if it takes a lot of mutual comfort and reassurance in that stage of scary vulnerability. it is somewhat grotesque to be seen as you are and then to watch someone choose to see more of you over and over and over. you are dying and you are living and it’s mortifying and really very wonderful.

after the initial knowing, there comes the valley where it feels as if your souls begin to intertwine, and the knowing becomes so much more intimate than you might have prepared yourself for. wriothesley wants to hide, and you might too. there are probably some bumps where he puts off replying to letters, or perhaps you procrastinate scheduling visits to the fortress, and you both act very silly, and you misunderstand and squabble a bit and make up. the silliness, however, is not unwarranted, as you both are very aware of how scary it can be to like someone and to be liked. and to watch and feel as the liking turns to loving, and knowing turns to becoming, and suddenly your hands and hearts are glued like crafts and it would be a dire mistake to unravel the lovely work of two loving souls—but moving forward is still, perhaps, so very uncomfortable. but you will, you will do it.

wriothesley likes you so much that he feels himself fall apart. the entirety of the strength he has built up within himself wavers under your soft gaze; your eyes rip him to shreds, but gently, lovingly. you reduce him to nothing but a lovestruck schmuck.

the depths of his adoration for you are, in a sense, biblical. if you have no religious background, you could call his love something sacred, something reverent. he’d never anticipated feeling this way for someone; now that he’s become so deeply entrenched in everything about you, wriothesley feels a deep need to protect and to provide. he is unsure what the future could look like due to his position as the duke of meropide, but he is certain that everything will fall into place if it is meant to be. whatever the case, he’s an absolute schmuck, hanging off your every word and footstep. 100% would follow you around like a lost puppy were he not duty-bound to his work.

for you, it’s really the fact that you could sit in his presence for hours, safely and peacefully, without having spoken a word. there could be no sound in his office but the time-dusted record playing and tea-crusted pages turning, and all would still be well. no guessing, nothing under the rug for you to worry your silly head about—it is just he and you and his work and your books, and the music and his breathing and your humming and embroidery. nothing has transpired but the work that has been done and the record that has played a dozen times over. you may pick up where you left off with him, only with a lighter chest and clearer mind.

sigewinne would oft find the duke passed out in his big red chair, his sweet little lover over on the couch gone to dreamland all the same. it was picturesque. she sometimes wished she could call her friend mamere to paint it, to capture in art whatever it was she could not with words. sigewinne was still learning about humans—and she could glean a lot just from watching you and the duke. but sometimes, like this domestic scene, she would find herself puzzled, unable to describe the feelings that emerged from seeing two humans so safe and comfortable with each other in this particular manner. sigewinne would tip-toe back down the stairs and out of the duke’s office, much to ponder, and much to ask monsieur neuvillette.

very self indulgent, but i finally wrote something 😵‍💫 it just came out like blaarrggh

[galaxymagitech]

Just my opinion, and I still definitely enjoy it when other people write her differently, but…

Personally I don’t think Cassandra should be able to speak out loud fluently. Her brain is wired differently and I don’t like the idea that she can be “fixed” by either someone messing with her brain or practice. However, since learning to speak is also her rebelling against being a weapon, I think she should be able to speak sometimes/somewhat.

When I write her, each of her words encapsulates a lot of meaning and she doesn’t think much about grammatical structure, since she’s so focused on translating her feelings into a few words and turning those words into muscle movements and vocalization without the thoughts getting lost in her brain. Each word is difficult, and therefore precious. Although it’s not the most natural way of communicating for her, she still cares deeply about speaking and uses it in tandem with other communication methods. I also headcanon that she has a bit of an unplaceable accent from her difficulty forming words with her mouth, because I also have a mystery accent that no one can pin down.

I think sign language is a bit easier for her, since she doesn’t have to coordinate with her mouth; thought —> arms/face is a lot harder than thought —> vocalisation when she was trained to fight and punished for making sounds. However, she still does struggle with getting her feelings into specific, mostly symbolic motions.