#if any of my mutuals want to learn a hell of a lot about me very quickly. here you go

[crowbiotic]

Hi I run a Linux gimmick blog could you please elaborate on the beliefs of the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod?

hello anon. I hope you’re having fun over on your linux gimmick blog. I will now infodump all over you about the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod (WELS):

// TW: transphobia, TW: homophobia, TW: brief mention of sexual assault, TW: misogyny //

Firstly, my credentials: my entire extended family, including my immediate family, belonged to this same synod for most of my life (a few of them have since joined Christian churches outside the synod, and my sibling and I have broken from Christianity entirely). My dad has been an organist at my parents’ church since long before I was born— he practices on an old church organ in my parents’ living room. My parents took my sibling and i to church every Sunday and had us stay for Sunday school and bible study afterwards. I attended a synod-sanctioned gradeschool from age 3-14 (pre-preschool through eighth grade) that was quite literally connected to my parents’ church. After eighth grade, I attended and graduated from a WELS high school. These schools taught “religion” classes (WELS teachings) every day and held mandatory chapel services in the schools once per week. Suffice it to say: I know a lot about this god damn synod.

I’m going to try to keep this as brief as I can, but if you or anyone else has follow-up questions, I’d happily go into further detail.

WELS churches and their congregations believe in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as equal parts of the same God— the holy trinity. All three of them make up God, but when they just say “God,” they are most often referring to God the Father. Jesus, the Son of God, died as a sacrifice of God the Father for the sins of all people. At a surface level, WELS people believe that all you have to do to enter Heaven is believe in God (more specifically, believe in Jesus). And god, anon, I really wish it were that simple, because I’d probably have a lot fewer issues now, but it never is.

The WELS also holds a very nebulous concept of sin, repentance, and forgiveness at equal importance to the whole all-you-need-is-belief-in-god thing. They believe that we are all born sinful and unclean, and that even though Jesus died to absolve us of all our sins, we are still wretchedly sinful (this includes babies, which is why many WELS parents have their infants baptized in the hospital as soon as they’re born, so that the sinful unclean baby that hasn’t had a chance to learn about God yet isn’t sent to hell if it dies prematurely. The baptism basically stakes God’s claim on the baby.). The WELS doesn’t have confessional booths or anything— no, if you sin, it is YOUR responsibility to acknowledge that sin and pray to God that He forgives you. If this seems contradictory already, that’s because it is! very much so! and this is one of many things that made my younger self really squint at everything I was being taught since I was old enough to comprehend language. (This is the part that most closely relates to the bpd jesus meme I reblogged recently: “go die I won’t save because you ignore me” but, like, actually— they believe that you are actively hurting Jesus on the cross more and more with every sin you do not repent of, and that God will still keep track of every sin and judge you accordingly. What does that mean, since Jesus died to absolve you of that sin? Iunno!!!) They can’t tell a priest their sorrows and have the priest tell them what to do to absolve their guilt. They *can* meet with their Pastor, but there’s this weird sort of social taboo around doing that for some reason…? and private meetings with congregation members’s Pastors are not done regularly by most people.

(Side tangent: since the WELS is a Lutheran synod, they kind of hate ? Catholics ?. They believe the Pope is the Antichrist (not a joke, i’m being so serious right now) and that Catholics are technically worshipping false gods and practicing idolatry by praying to Mary and the Saints, which are two pretty grievous sins in the eyes of the WELS (but then again— what isn’t?). October 30th, Reformation Day, was a special day in school where we re-learned the history of Martin Luther, his 95 theses, Guttenberg’s printing press, the selling of indulgences, and everything else around that time every single year. We weren’t allowed to dress up for Halloween during the school day because that would have been disrespectful towards Martin Luther. A huge part of 7th and 8th graders’s education centers around Luther’s Catechism, which contains Martin Luther’s interpretations of the Commandments, but also of a few other traditional Christian chants).

Now, if you were to ask a WELS person why their beliefs about sin are so contradictory, they’d probably tell you something like this: “well, since Jesus died to absolve those of us who believe in Him of all sin, we don’t HAVE to follow God’s commands. But why WOULDN’T we? Why WOULDN’T you live in ENDLESS THANKS and GRATITUDE to His ultimate sacrifice??”. Unfortunately for everyone around them, the WELS’s interpretation of following God’s commands/living your life in service to God means the good human basics (don’t murder, steal, cheat on your spouse, etc etc general bad stuff) AND it means denouncing any variety of LGBTQ+ identities as sinful, shameful, and unnatural, being VERY opposed to abortion, wives/women in general being subservient to their husbands/men in general (women are not allowed to hold positions of leadership of any kind in the WELS), giving money to the church every Sunday, and being very adamant that their specific variety of conservative Christianity is the best kind and that they must therefore evangelize as much as humanly possible. This church attracts almost exclusively white members, many of whom fall in the middle- to upper-middle-class financially, which means—who would’ve guessed!— their members almost exclusively hold right-wing conservative political views.

I’ve been yapping for way too long already! so here’s a miscellaneous speed round of WELS facts:

- they don’t do the ashes on the forehead on Ash Wednesday, and I didn’t even know that was a regularly practiced tradition until relatively recently. They also don’t give up anything for Lent. There’s just a general haze of melancholy in the air during all of Lent, like, “feel bad, YOU did this to Him. Feel extra bad for these six weeks.” Their churches hold specific mid-week services during the seasons of Lent and Advent alongside Sunday services that are held in the afternoon/evening and are completely different to the Sunday ones (you guessed it!: I had to go to every one of the midweek services too)

- I was told on not one— not two— but THREE separate occasions by three different teachers that we as WELS Christians should not ever attend a wedding for a gay couple, since that would be indicating our approval through our actions even if we didn’t approve, and we must always set an example of “Christ-like behavior”

- Other Christian churches (at least in the area of the Midwest where the most WELS churches are located) call WELS people “the frozen chosen” for their well-known propensity to, ah. For lack of a better phrase: have sticks up their asses. WELS people fully believe that they are following God’s word better than any other religion on earth, including every other sect of Christianity. Also, their services are very stiff, strict stand-up, sit-down, be-quiet affairs. No one is saying “amen” outside of the printed congregational response times detailed in the church bulletins. Jeans are not welcome at many of the churches, though I’m told this varies— you were expected to dress in business-casual-adjacent wear at the very least at the church I grew up in.

- Someone brought a cutout of Trump to school when I was in high school. It stayed in the cafeteria underneath the stained glass art of the cross until some esteemed donors or something were coming to visit (at least several days after it was initially put there)

- WELS schools, since they are private, cost thousands of dollars per year to attend. $7,000-8,000 ish per year when I was there I believe

- If you try to even mention that the Bible has very obviously been altered innumerable times throughout human history by rulers and clergy, and that certain passages (such as the ones most often misquoted to be against LGBTQ+ people), they’ll just stop listening to you. To them, since there are passages in the Bible saying that the Bible is the true word of God, that’s all they need to know. The Bible is the true word of God. Nothing is wrong because it’s the Bible. whatever man

- At least at the church I grew up in, they hold two weirdly patriotic church services every year near the Fourth of July and Memorial Day. Just, uh. God bless America, all morning.

- Being confirmed (promising your life in full service to God and taking your first communion) occurs at age 14. You had to be confirmed to graduate the gradeschool I attended, and in eighth grade, you attended a special series of classes with the church’s pastor during the school day specifically made for confirmation. I asked my parents why this was as a kid, and if anyone could possibly graduate without being confirmed, because even at that age I recognized that maybe I wasn’t grown enough to make this level of a commitment. Their answer was basically “well. After all those years of schooling, I can’t imagine you WOULDN’T want to be confirmed.”

- These people have one of the worst cases of I-wanna-be-oppressed-so-bad-itus that I have ever witnessed. Since I was a kid in the early aught’s I remember hearing in sermons that we are under attack! We are at war for God! Warriors for Christ! We must stay strong against the EEEVIL ENEMY, young people are leaving the church in droves! Music is evil! Culture is evil! The world is evil! etc etc etc

- I got the school librarian to put not only Percy Jackson and the Olympians, but also the first few books in the Warrior Cats series, in the school library. How? I dunno. I’m queer and I was a cute little meatball child. (I think the more likely answer is that the only intellectual properties that were sparking widespread moral panic at the time amongst the church were Harry Potter, Pokémon, and twilight)

- Every second Sunday of the month at my parents’ church, we had “contemporary Sundays,” where we sang more Christian-rock-adjacent songs played on instruments other than an electronic organ. These were mine and my sibling’s favorite Sundays, because hymns backed by drums and guitar are very exciting when the soundtrack to your entire home and church life is typically organ music. Occasionally, people wore jeans to these services. My sibling and I were very much not allowed to, but y’know. Jeans were seen.

- There’s a very distinct air of judgement that pervades this synod. Everybody’s trying to be a better Christian than everybody else. Their strangely fluid merit-based-but-not-really approach to salvation makes this pretty obvious, but I figured it was worth pointing out

- I interacted with almost exclusively WELS members from birth to age 18. College was my first time being around people who weren’t part of the WELS consistently outside of a brief stint in a mental ward at age 15. Both were very jarring but VERY good experiences. I still find myself expecting the worst from strangers, especially middle-aged to older adults, before realizing that outside the isolation of the WELS, almost no one acts in the stiff and overly-judgmental way these synod members do

- You can’t live with your boyfriend/girlfriend/fiance before marriage. Not allowed under any circumstances. You are living in sin, there is no way to repent from that aside from moving apart from each other and going to couple’s counseling with your church’s pastor. A lot of young marriages also don’t pan out very well, there’s a lot of cheating and clashing personalities. Imagine that

- A truly concerning amount of students from the high school I attended have turned out to be convicted sex offenders. Disappointing, but not surprising in the slightest.

I’m absolutely missing important bits, so please let me know if anything doesn’t have sense or if you have questions. I have since deconstructed, left the church, and embraced my queer identity (obviously) but it was a rough road to get to this point. worth it tho

thanks for reading ~

[blackynsupremacy]

CLARK KENT HELPING

YOU TAKE OUT YOUR

BRAIDS HEADCANONS

pairing: henry cavill!clark x blackfem!reader

fandom: DC

this was brewing in my head while actually taking out my braids today. plus, i wanted to give my baby henry a shot at this.

summary: it’s that time again! time to take down those 1-2 month old braids to prepare for your next fresh set. the only problem is, it’s raining, you’re tired, and you know it’s gonna take forever. yeah even getting your hair taken down, washed, detangled, and dried can be a hassle. fortunately, your fiancé, clark kent, is always happy to help with the process.

contains: lots of words, some things are based on true events, self insert, fluff, romance, established relationship, you and clark are simps, you and clark being fine, nudity but no smut, clark being a green flag, cuddling, kissing.

taglist: @rosiestalez @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @simply-the-best23 @jkr820 @zombiehe4rt @elitesanjisimp @sabrinasopposite @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn

(i know i didn’t ask if ya’ll wanted to be tagged, but y’all are mutuals that consistently interact with my posts, so this is how i’m showing my appreciation! thank you! let me know if any of yall want to be tagged in my next blurb. again thank yall and i love my mutes)

• work was work today.

• it’s raining like hell.

• but good news, you’re getting your hair done this weekend! ain’t nothing like a fresh set of braids.

• the bad news, you gotta take out the old braids, wash/condition/detangle, and blow dry your hair all before your appointment. (yk how these new hair stylists be)

• girl, you’re dead tired, but you know you need to start asap!

• good news again though! your man clark kent is already home and you know he’s always down to help with your hair.

• ya’ll have been dating for 4 years before he popped the question a month ago on your anniversary.

• one thing about clark kent, he’s gonna hype up your hair no matter what style.

• he believes you’re stunning whether you have braids, twists, a lace front, locs, a slick back ponytail, a silk press or, your natural. he loves it!!

• he loves to watch you style it on your own or if you’re following along to a youtube tutorial.

• you’ve taught him a thing or two like taking down braids, detangling, applying edge control, and even helping you to wash and condition it!

• he catches on pretty fast and follows your instructions to a tee.

• his love language is acts of service and when it comes to your hair, he wants to make sure he does it properly.

• he told you he wants to continue learning because he can see himself helping out with your future daughter’s hair, so why not start with his future wife?

• this man is going to be the death of you.

• you see clark sitting on the couch with his laptop. as soon as he hears the door shut followed by your sigh of exhaustion, he’s already putting that to the side and zooming in your direction to take your bag, umbrella, and jacket off your hands.

• this man is teeth rotting sweet. how’d you get so blessed?

• he greets you with a warm embrace and plants a kiss atop of your head. he peeps that new growth, but he won’t mention it until you do.

• you both take a seat on the couch and have a brief conversation about each other’s day. you sigh again and run a hand through your hair one last time.

• “it’s about that time, clark. i’m getting my hair done soon and i need to start taking my braids down, but i’m so tired!”

• you whine and lean your head on his broad shoulder before you peer your “please help me” doe eyes into his blue ones that were hiding behind his glasses. he doesn’t hesitate to keep that eye contact either. it’s so intense yet intimate. you almost look away because even after 4 years, clark can still get you a bit flustered from time to time.

• “baby, would you like to help me out again? i promise you’re not gonna have to do all the work. i just need some assistance to get this done faster.”

• you playfully pout and bat your lashes. you already know the answer, but this brought you joy. you knew he was waiting for an opportunity to help with your hair again.

• he shows off those pearly whites before he enthusiastically responds, “i’d never thought you’d ask. you go change into something more comfortable, i’ll handle the rest, and we can get started.”

• he lays a chaste kiss to your lips and pats your behind to signal for you to handle your business and you don’t hesitate to do so.

• by “handling the rest”, clark gathers the necessities: 2 pairs of scissors, a detangling comb, 4 hair ties for sectioning, a plastic bag from that one drawer in the kitchen, your satin bonnet, and an order of chinese takeout placed on doordash.

• clark was waiting on the couch and he gleamed when he saw you come back clad in a white tank, no bra, grey cotton shorts, and one of his oversized, plaid flannels.

• as soon as you found yourself comfortable on the couch, clark handed you a pair of scissors and ya’ll got to work at cutting the braids shorter before you both section off your hair into 4 parts and start unbraiding from the front.

• you started on the right side, while clark took over for the left.

• you obviously know of clark’s abilities, his extraterrestrial heritage, and his intense duties as superman. he makes sure his powers can be of help in the most important areas of his life, one of them being your relationship.

• he’s had some practice with unbraiding and his fingers moves like clockwork. he moves at a delicate, quick pace and uses his keen eye to make sure your hair doesn’t get tangled or pulled, so there’s no unnecessary breakage. braid by braid, each one is removed out of your head and into the empty, plastic grocery bag that’s placed between you two.

• he’s seen you sometimes get it tangled and you would be quick to just cut it off, but with his aid, you’ve been doing that less frequently.

• after about 30 minutes, clark can already hear the doorbell ring and footsteps walking away. the food’s here.

• he opted for contactless delivery this time because he knew he just had one more braid….and done!

• he urges you to give your hands a break from unbraiding your side and to wash them because your dinner has arrived. he chuckled as you perked up hearing that because you were hon-grey!!

• he also takes it upon himself to gently place your satin, royal blue bonnet on your head.

• it’s his absolute favorite because it’s patterned with his iconic red and gold family crest!

• you have a friend who owns a small business of designing bonnets, durags, and head scarves with the cutest patterns imaginable for black nerds like you.

• they got some with superheroes, anime characters, hogwart house symbols, disney, you name it!!

• 2 years ago, you asked them to commission a bonnet to match his heroic attire.

• this was to show him that you’re proud of his kryptonian roots and that you 100% support him being one of the world’s most selfless heroes along with the other members of the justice league.

• you sometimes worry for his life, but he always tries his best to make it back to you in one piece.

• but girl, that bonnet had him geeking when you showed it to him!! his face heated with a bright hue of pink before he plants a billion kisses all over your face. his voice never ceasing his appreciation and eternal love for you.

• you both chill for a few minutes to eat and watch some tv.

• you stretch your hands, placed your bonnet on the coffee table and resumed to unbraiding the last strand on the front before sectioning it off with a hair tie and starting on the back of the right side. it seems that time moves slower (or faster) as your fingers meticulously unravel each braided strand.

• clark is half way done with his entire side. his brows raise at the sound of your soft groan of what seemed to be pain and exhaustion.

• “babe, my fingers are starting to cramp and so are my arms.” you gripe and pause your movements to massage out the stiffness in your fingers.

• clark also pauses what he’s doing. he delicately grasps your hands into his, sprinkling tiny pecks on each aching knuckle. his pink lips lingers on the rock that adorns the fourth knuckle of your left hand before those baby blues gaze into your own eyes.

• you could clearly see your worn reflection in his pupils, but you lovingly smile as you know what he’s about to say.

• “c’mere, beautiful. let me take care of the rest while you sit and relax. it’s just a few more and it’s nothing i can’t handle, so it’ll be my pleasure.”

• that’s true. clark’s an invincible kryptonian. unless your hair was laced with some green k, a cramp within the joints of his digits wouldn’t be possible. if you ask, he would one day take out your braids all by himself without you having to lift a finger and he’d be in pure bliss of taking that burden off your plate.

• he spreads his thighs apart. the large palms of his hands encircle around your waist to shift your body in between his legs before his fingers get back to tenderly remove the last remaining braids.

• as he does so, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. ya’ll would be cracking jokes, planning suggestions for the wedding, your jobs, and a myriad of other topics to kill time.

• about 30 more minutes pass by and your braids are finally out! he leans back feeling accomplished and marvels at how much your hair has grown over the month.

• “may i?” he politely asks. his expectant eyes glancing into yours for approval.

• “of course, kal.” you grin. it’s like seeing a child light up in a candy store, he’s so elated.

• you feel more at ease and lean into his touch as his fingers lovingly caress through your natural hair and scalp.

• you know that he just wants to feel your hair in it’s natural state. it’s not out of a fetish, but out of pure fascination, so you let him!

• you love that even though you’ve been together for 4 years and he’s helped you with your hair on multiple occasions, the curious kryptonian wonders why he always has to ask you before touching your hair.

• as a journalist, he’s gonna conduct his own research.

• he educates himself and he understands the history of that one boundary in your community, so he always asks you before touching your hair or he waits for you to offer.

• he’s not even human and he understands the basic human decency of not to reach out and touch someone’s hair out of nowhere.

• you sigh in relief and thank clark with a kiss before you go to dispose the plastic bag of worn out braids to the kitchen and into the large garbage can. you turn around and lean up against the sink.

• now it’s time to wash, condition, detangle, and dry.

• clark already knows the next step. he stands from his position on the couch and stretches his back muscles. he moderately saunters to the arched threshold that separates the kitchen and living room. his tall stature works in his favor as he casually raises his arms with his hands gripping the arch that’s a few inches above his head.

• you know exactly what pose i’m trying to poorly describe to the best of my ability. it happens to be one of those non-sexual turn ons that men do without them realizing.

• you go into a bit of a hypnotic state as you stare at his bulging biceps. you also take notice of how his white t-shirt raises up to expose a small section of his sculpted abdomen. the raven tresses on his skin that perfectly matches the messy curls on his head form a trail straight down to his—

• the trance is broken by the baritone voice of your fiancé.

• “my eyes are up here, angel. were you even listening to me?” he flirtatiously quips and tilts his head with a playful smirk curving on his lips, lowering his arms to cross them over his chest.

• like some suave lady killer, he approaches you and places his index under your chin to shift your gaze to his.

• girl, not you getting caught in 4K! you know that man is fine, but you got to finish off your hair. there’s no time to waste when it comes to that, so you must stay focused.

• you can’t help, but feel the heat of embarrassment rush on your melanated cheeks and giggle nervously before you confess.

• “i’m sorry, clark! after all of these years, you still get me sprung. now, what were you saying, boo? ”

• “it’s no worries, (n/n). don’t doubt that you’ve got the same effect on me too.” he blushes himself, beaming at the compliment and pecks your forehead, nose, and lips before he resumes his question.

• “would you like to wash in the sink or shower?”

• he bursts into a joyous laugh as you don’t hesitate to choose the shower.

• of course he was hoping you’d say that, but you shut down the idea because you just want to kill two birds with one stone, wrap this up, and cuddle in bed.

• he understands where you’re coming from and it’s no pressure at all. you both love when you two get down in the bedroom, but you share a common belief that spending quality time is the key to true intimacy.

• he takes your hand and leads you both to your shared bathroom.

• he puts his glasses on the sink, switches on the shower and checks for the perfect temperature that’s not too hot for your scalp, but not too cool for your body.

• you go to obtain large drying towels, african net wash cloths, and disposable shower caps. you then seek out the shampoo, conditioner, and detangling cream to nourish and clean your hair.

• you return to the bathroom with the items and clark gets your second opinion on the water temperature. you get a feel and let him know that it’s just right before you both strip of your clothes until you’re both completely naked. you make sure your engagement ring is placed in the velvet box it came in and set it on your drawer before you both step under the running water.

• clark reaches up to detach the shower head. before making a move, he asks if you need any further assistance in this step and you gladly accept, closing your eyes as he handles the shower head to pre-rinse both of your heads for a well deserved cleaning.

• as he puts the shower head back where it belongs, you let him know that you want to do the shampooing for both you and him.

• yep, clark uses your products on his hair!

• one time after your fifth date, he hugged you and his sensitive nose stealthily picked up on the natural, sweet, and intoxicating scent of the hair lotion that seeped into your scalp. he thought at first it was your perfume, which he loves too, but he was mistaken!

• “my god, you smell amazing.”

• clark takes you out to dinner and feeds your ego! okay, kal-el!

• he couldn’t get enough of it!

• this aroma— it was like something fresh and made from natural ingredients without any harsh chemicals.

• it reminds him of the homegrown warmth and love that his parents, jonathan and martha raised him up in back in smallville.

• if it wasn’t so soon (or the fact that he hasn’t told you his secret then), he would literally fly you out there in 10 minutes.

• when you moved in together, he would sometimes sneak a bit of your shampoo and conditioner in his hair routine once or twice a week until you finally caught up to him!

• you scolded clark a bit for using your products without permission because you would’ve let him use a little if he’d ask and plus, that stuff was expensive!

• he looked genuinely remorseful and apologized. “i’m sorry, (f/n). it was wrong of me to sneak like that, but i just wanted to use it because it’s like i’m taking a part of you with me everywhere i go. that way even though we’re apart, i don’t feel so alone in this universe anymore.”

• that almost had you crying and throwing up. he’s as big a simp for you as you are for him, so you couldn’t stay mad at him!

• you had an agreement to share or double up as long as you both are putting in for it.

• it was definitely no problem for clark because besides it’s sentimental value, it does wonders for his hair! it looks healthier, shinier and it feels softer compared to those 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner concoctions that he’s been using since high school.

• he loves your weekly beauty supply store excursions. he doesn’t care if the 6 items in your cart is $35, he’s paying for it all!

• clark’s aqua pupils observes from behind as you pour a generous amount of shampoo into your palm, rubbing the other against it, and massaging the bubbly, white substance through your scalp. your fingers work to make sure every single hair on your head is lathered in the coconut scented liquid and he notices that you’re careful not to tangle it.

• his own trance is broken by a “your turn! now lean down a bit, my love.” you’re now waiting for him to follow through, leaning his head down and forward to make his now drenched, dark hair right in your view and in your reach.

• he exhales at the contact of the cold shampoo descending on his scalp. as your fingers massage through his hair, his eyes close and a smile of ecstasy plays on his lips.

• your touch, the scent of the product, and the fact that if he opened his eyes again at this very moment, your breasts would be right in his face is clark’s idea of his personal heaven.

• you both take turns to rinse your own hair and each others to double check that all of the suds of the shampoo are gone.

• you repeat the process again, but this time it’s with conditioner. once that’s applied, you both put on the shower caps to let it rest and do its thing.

• you both use that time to talk some more and thoroughly clean your bodies of the filth of the work day using the african net wash clothes and aromatherapy body wash.

• after one last rinse of ya’lls hair, you cut the water off and grab the towels set out to wrap around your soaked bodies and dripping hair before walking to your shared bedroom.

• fortunately, you and clark have your own respective hair dryers, so that step doesn’t take too long before you take on the final boss: detangling.

• still clad in your towels, you and clark apply the detangling cream through your scalps. as he uses his comb to effortlessly rake through his noir mop, you just kind of stand and stare at the detangling brush in your hand.

• if you’re tender headed, you’ve probably lived the nightmare over and over with your heavy handed mother tugging the comb through the knotted ends, jolting your head and neck forward as you whined in pain. of course she got mad at you for that and said that it didn’t even hurt.

• you’re grown now! with your own bills, home, car, job, and man. there’s way more stressful things in the world than getting some knots out.

• you start the teeth of the comb from the root of your hair and hear the wet stickiness of the detangling cream as it glides to the end.

• okay, we’re getting somewhere! no pain or the pulling of knots for the next few strands near the front. now let’s start on the back. comb one, comb two, comb three—

• “ow, ugh!” you yelp. cringing as you hit a knot at the end.

“ woah! sweetheart, are you alright?”

• clark immediately halts his actions and puts his comb down. he takes one step behind you to examine the situation.

“please, lord, don’t tell me it’s tangled that bad.”

• you attempt to comb without breaking your hair out and the more you try, the more painful it gets. your arms and hands started to stiffen again.

• you lowkey wanted to cry because you just want this to be done and sleep peacefully in clark’s arms for the rest of the night.

• you immediately ask clark for help and he once again, comes to the rescue. he was gentle and comforting, but straightforward when it came to getting those knots.

• he talks you through it to make this a little easier.

• “i’m so sorry, honey. this is gonna hurt a bit, but we’re gonna knock these out and go straight to bed in no time, okay? i love you.” he kisses your temple before he proceeds with the task.

• several minutes of detangling are over! clark gets a second shower of kisses all over his face as you thank him again.

• you discard your towels and replace them with your nightclothes. clark’s shirtless with his sweats and you’re comfortable in another one of clark’s shirts with a fresh pair of cotton shorts.

• you put your hair in an afro puff ponytail and as always, you let your fiancé do the honors of placing your superman patterned bonnet on over your hair like a king crowning his queen.

• he looks at you with such pride and joy. seeing you happy feels so good it hurts. it makes him feel as weak as when he’s around green k. maybe even more.

• clark wouldn’t feel too comfortable to wrap his hair up just yet, so you suggested he uses a satin pillowcase instead.

• speaking of pillows, you look at the clock and realize it’s gotten late. you and clark shut off the lights and retire your exhausted bodies into your bed.

• you lay in a fetal position and turn to face him. kryptonians don’t usually need that much sleep as humans do, so you weren’t surprised that he was still awake.

• you both gaze and admire each other in comfortable silence. your hand reaching to his jaw. your brown toned fingertips caress the pale yet angelic face of the man you love. he closes his eyelids and leans into your warm touch.

• like a magnet, you drew closer to his face until your, full yearning lips rested on his. it doesn’t take him a second to melt into it, his hands clinging to your waist to rest your figure on top of his. your palms find themselves to rest on each side of his jawline.

• between each kiss, the moonlight illuminates the wide smiles you exchange to each other.

• after you two get your fill of each other’s affection, you lay your head on clark’s chest with his arms still acting as a shield around your back. he pecks your temple and is pulled in by the music of your steady heartbeat. he looks down to see your eyes pointed toward his and your hands folded flat on his chest.

• “thank you, clark. thank you so much for your help, your patience, your kindness, your love, and your compassion. not to mention that you are so fine, you still get me giggling like a schoolgirl at my big age! whether you’re superman, clark kent, or kal-el, i just thank you for being you. i love you, clark kent and that’ll never change.” your lips curve with a beaming smile.

• “(f/n), you need to know that everything i do, i do it for you and i’d do it again. you’re the most beautiful person and i’m not just talking about your stunning beauty. your heart is golden. despite everything that we’ve been through, it’s always been you. you understand me, you give me grace and hold me accountable, you still believe in me when i don’t even believe in myself. that’s how i knew i had to ask you to marry me, so i love you more, (f/n) kent and that’ll never change.”

• “look at us! we’ve only been engaged for a month and it sounds like we’re exchanging vows already.”

• “that sounds like a great start to me.”

• you both laugh and he gives you one last lingering kiss on your lips. your heads drop and your eyelids close before you take your peaceful slumber in each other’s presence.

[drysdalesworld]

PHASE TWO — always trust the match maker (jamie’s version)

part one

pairing: jamie drysdale x reader

genre: fluff (lots of it tbh)

word count: 4.8k+

warning(s): trev getting too smug about being cupid, georgie being (*forcefully*) dragged into trevor’s ideas, reader cannot skate in this part so if you can please just pretend 🙏, meddling trev, confessions of love (FINALLY JESUS), mentions of parties + alcohol, & a teeny tiny makeout sesh (BOOMSHAKALAKA)

note: decided to replace the gifs with pictures bc they seem more aesthetically pleasing to my eyes & are a little summary as to what will/may be in the fic <3 brittany is an oc that i made up for the plot who is mason mctavish’s girlfriend. also, thinking of doing a bonus chapter/part 3 inspired by “meet the parents” but idk 🤷‍♀️ let me know if you’d like that! (or i could do a poll for it) sorry that the ending is a little rushed, i was just so excited to get it out <3

“You know she can’t skate, right?”.

If looks could kill, Trevor Zegras would be six feet under at the moment.

Georgie didn’t understand the man’s fascination with getting her roommate and his teammate together. She could see the attraction they shared but would rather not meddle with it. Trevor and his want of being involved in everything is really shining through in this current moment.

“That’s perfect! Jamie’ll be right there to swoop in and save her from falling. See? My plan is perfect, Gigi!” Trevor exclaimed, eyes shining with excitement and anticipation.

His current plan for ‘phase two’ of his plan to get you and Jamie together included the family skating event that the Anaheim Ducks were hosting later in the week and since neither Jamie nor Trevor had family in California, it was a perfect idea to recruit you and your roommate as their plus ones for the night. He’d pair himself up with Georgie while Jamie was paired with you. It was perfect in his eyes. Nothing could go wrong and that night would be the night where everything fell into place and the both of you would finally get together after bearing witness to the mutual pining and obliviousness.

“Y’know this isn’t a rom-com movie, right?” Georgie scoffed out, eyes rolling and head shaking as she did so.

“I’m well aware thank you,” Trevor sassed, copying the actions of the woman in front of him. “You have nothing to worry about. She’ll be in great hands. Jamie won’t let her fall or anything”.

The woman across from him only hummed and crossed her arms over her chest, not fully believing in the blue eyed man. Whatever he’s planning, she thought, better be good. Poor girl deserves a break.

———

“You know I can’t skate, right?”.

The question seemed to hit Trevor in the face, eye nearly twitching in agitation.

“Yes. I’ve been made aware of that”.

“So why do you want me to go to your family skate so bad?”.

The blue eyed man nearly wanted to rip the ends of his hair out in frustration. Why couldn’t you just say yes without any questions? It was a simple question that required a simple answer.

“You can practice your skating skills! Everyone should at least learn how to skate one time in their life. Plus, neither Jamie or I have family in California and it’d be nice for you and Georgie to tag along,” he replied, internally on his hands and knees begging as he asked you.

“I’ll fall,” you retorted, arms crossed against your chest.

“Jamie or I will be there to catch you. Hell, if you want Mason to do it, I’ll make sure he will. Just…please come”.

Trevor’s words only caused you to sigh out, nerves already bunching in your stomach at the thought of stepping on the ice. It’s not that you haven’t skated before. It’s just that it’s been years since you have and even then, it was only your third time ever skating. You didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool and fall straight on your face.

“Promise?” You asked.

“Promise,” Trevor nodded.

“Don’t make me regret trusting you, Zegras”.

“I’d never. Scouts honor!”.

You had a feeling that you were going to regret agreeing to skating with Trevor. And you’d be proven right exactly four days after this interaction.

———

“If I slip and die, I’m going to haunt your ass!” You shrieked, hands out in front of you as you wobbled on the sleek ice, trying to balance yourself.

The force of laughter that left Jamie’s lips nearly knocked the both of you over, skates slipping back and forth on the ice as you tried to balance yourself once more.

You don’t know how you were in your right mind when you agreed to Trevor’s family skate idea. You immediately regretted it the minute you stepped onto the ice and nearly face planted. He had managed to catch you last minute, hauling you up as he laughed at your state, declaring you ‘Bambi on ice’.

You had been handed off to Jamie when Trevor decided to help Georgie, even though she had a lengthy history of skating and could manage on her own. He practically dragged you over to the Canadian before lightly shoving you into his frame, clinging onto Jamie’s outstretched arms as you cursed the Zegras boy out.

“You’re doing great so far! Just focus on what’s in front of you,” Jamie replied, the sweetest smile on his face as he continued to grasp your hands in his own. You were surprised he could still feel his hands from how tight you were gripping them. “It’s always hard the first couple of minutes on the ice. But it gets better as time goes on”.

“Says the professional skater”.

He grinned at your statement, eyes never straying from yours as he did so. You did have a point. Jamie had has ample time to refine his skating skills whereas you barely even touched the ice growing up.

“Okay, you got me there. But trust me. The more time you spend on the ice today, the easier it will be next time,” he added, eyes quickly darting behind him to make sure no one was behind him as he continued to skate backwards.

“Next time? Oh no! No. There will not be a next time! This is the only time I will be stepping on the ice,” you retorted, shaking your head.

Jamie only shook his head in response, grin still plastered on his face as the both of you continued to glide across the ice.

“It won’t be if Trevor has anything to do with it. Now, you’re doing great! Just keep bending your legs,” he replied, hands tightening their grip on yours ever so slightly.

A scoff was the only response to escape your lips as you continued to focus on skating properly, desperate to not fall on your face.

———

“So, how was it?”.

Hours had passed and you were all skated out, Jamie practically carrying you off the ice as you complained about how much your feet hurt.

A glare was shot in Trevor’s direction. His usual, stupid grin on his face as he plopped himself right next to you as Jamie untied your skates for you. (You had protested much on the fact. But he insisted on untying your laces for you. You could not refuse him after he practically pouted at you to let him.)

“I’m killing you when we get home,” you replied, massaging your foot once it was free from the tortuous confinement of the ice skate. “I can’t feel my feet, Trev!”.

“She did pretty good. Better than I expected,” Jamie commented, gently placing the other foot onto his thigh, fingers deftly untying the laces.

You let out a gasp of shock, gently nudging Jamie’s forehead as you pouted, “You have no faith in me at all!”.

The onyx haired man only chuckled at your response, shaking his head a little to fix his locks as he continued to aid you in getting out of your skates.

“From what I could see, you did well, babe” Georgie piqued, skates already off and tennis shoes on her feet. Her piercing eyes glared at Trevor for a second before returning to you, softening a bit.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her, a gentle smile on your face.

“All right,” Jamie murmured, softly taking your foot out of the unlaced skate and placing it on the ground underneath him. “You’re all ready to go!”.

“Thanks, Jimmy!” You spoke, stretching out that foot as you wiggled your toes and tried to relieve yourself of the soreness.

Trevor shot Georgie a look, something that neither you or Jamie noticed. The man wiggled his eyebrows a bit, earning an eye roll and a smack to the shoulder from the woman in front of him.

“McTavish is having a little get together later tonight if y’all are interested in joining,” Georgie commented, very discreetly kicking Trevor’s shin, earning a yelp from him.

“Oh, right! Something about starting the new season off with a bang or whatever,” the brunet added, rubbing his shin. That’ll definitely bruise.

“We should definitely go!” He continued, trying to gauge you and Jamie’s separate reactions to the suggestion.

You looked a little unsure, sparing a quick glance to Jamie as he absorbed the information given to him. Parties were never your thing to begin with. But it always managed to be fun if a certain Ducks player attended.

Jamie shrugged, hand still loosely holding onto your ankle, “Sure!”.

You nodded in response, a smile gracing your features as you looked at Georgie in confirmation.

“Great!” She exclaimed, hands clapping together as she ushered you up, ankle now becoming cold as Jamie’s hand slipped from it. “Us girls will get ready while you two do whatever. Just don’t forget (Y/N)’s drinks this time”.

Georgie shot a hard look at Trevor when she finished her commentary, glaring at him once more before she handed you your shoes and turned your back towards the two boys.

The blue eyed man only rolled his eyes and scoffed, arms crossing over his chest.

“She’s right. Don’t forget it,” Jamie added, including his, in Trevor’s opinion, unwanted input.

“I won’t, lover boy,” Trevor scoffed, ruffling his friends hair before getting up himself, phase two already beginning to circle in his brain.

———

The ‘little get together’ Mason was throwing was, in fact, not little.

If you had to guess, you would say there were at least thirty people squished in Mason’s apartment. Every person there either seemed to be a player or a friend of a friend. You didn’t recognize most unfortunately.

People were bumping into one another as they mingled their way through the crowd to get somewhere else or greet another friend. It was overwhelming to say the least. And it didn’t help that once you stepped through the door, Georgie excused herself to go to the bathroom and left you by the overflowing coat rack Mason had stationed by the entrance to his apartment.

You were close to turning around and leaving the party when you heard someone shout your name—Trevor.

“And where do you think you’re going, missy?” He asked, two alcoholic beverages in hand. “You’ve barely been here thirty seconds and you already want to leave,” Trevor continued, tsking at you.

“This isn’t a little get together, Z,” you shouted, the music and loud talking in the small space making it hard to hear what Trevor was saying.

Trevor sheepishly shrugged. “It was!” He exclaimed, “But then Brittany wanted to bring some of her friends and then they wanted to bring some of their friends…”.

You only shook your head, snatching the familiar labeled beverage in his hand and cracking it open before he finished his sentence.

“But hey, Jamie’s here!” He excitedly shouted, a wide smile spreading on his lips. “He’s back in Mason’s room! I left him there to get you since Georgie texted me that you guys were here”.

A small blush crept onto your cheeks at the mention of the defenseman, warming up your face. Trevor had taken that reaction as a sign to grab your free hand and drag you to Mason’s room, squeezing his way through the numerous bodies littered across the room.

“It should be more peaceful in there,” Trevor commented, turning his head a little bit so you could hear him. He knew how you got with large enough crowds and had personally asked Mason if you could stay in there for a majority of the time so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed. (Not that getting you into Mason’s room with Jamie was a part of his plan, of course not!)

Once you had reached the pearl white wooden door, Trevor had quickly ushered you in before closing the door behind himself, trying extremely hard to keep a straight face so as to not blow his cover.

Jamie was seated on Mason’s bed, elbows on knees as he was scrolling through whatever app he had on his phone. His dark hair had fallen forward due to the position, causing Jamie to have to push back the strands to get a good look at whoever walked into the room.

A smile broke onto his lips once he saw that it was you. “Hey,” he spoke, turning off his phone and throwing it to the left of him, the device making contact with the soft pillows.

“(Y/N/N) here tried to run. But, I caught her in time before she could make an escape. You’re welcome,” Trevor praised himself, giving a little bow to Jamie and you.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your beverage. “Oh, why, thank you so much, Trev!”.

Only a wide grin was Trevor’s response to your quip, teeth on full display as his blue eyes twinkled with an all too familiar look.

But before you could question what he was up to, a loud knock came from behind Mason’s bedroom door, catching the attention of all three of you in the room.

The door opened to reveal Lukáš Dostál, one of the Ducks goalies. He had a sheepish smile on his face as he called out to Trevor, telling him that Mason needed him real quick before slowly backing away from the door frame to allow space for the center player to get through.

“Alright,” Trevor spoke, clapping his hands together, or at least as much as he could with his beer in hand. “I must depart. So, I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t miss me too much now”.

A fake laugh escaped your lips as the boy exited the room, the loud slam and click of the door echoing throughout the room. Trevor shot you a small wink just before he completely disappeared behind the door.

“He’s up to something,” Jamie commented, eyes squinted at the door, gaze lingering on the general area Trevor stood just moments prior.

“I was about to say the same thing, Drysdale” you murmured, non dominant hand on hip as your dominant one still held your cool beverage.

“You’d think we’d have a sixth sense for this,” he chuckled, fingers raking through his dark hair. “With all the shit he pulls, you’d think we’d be better at recognizing when he’s up to something”.

You smiled at his comment, nodding with what he was saying as you took a sip of your drink. Trying to pinpoint what exactly Trevor was up to was always a hard feat—something that you hadn’t quite mastered yet even after all these years of knowing him.

“He’s sneaky. Too much for his own good sometimes,” you spoke, flopping onto Mason’s bed, cup already emptied and discarded somewhere amongst the room.

Jamie only hummed in response as he felt your weight dip the mattress, the force of it nearly forcing him backwards, his left hand going behind him in order to stop himself from crushing you.

From his position, Jamie could see every faint freckle on your face and every birthmark that painted your skin. You were wearing a black baby tee that had two pink magic eight balls positioned as cherries, tied by a ribbon on the very front. The necklace that held your first initial laid in the middle of your chest, moving up and down with each breath you took. The jeans you were wearing hugged your figure perfectly. Your eyelids were gently closed and from time to time, he could see your eyes move underneath the lids. Your hair splayed around your head like a halo, shining in the overhead light. To Jamie, you looked like an angel sent from above—so pretty and kind and captivating. He couldn’t believe he had met you when he did. He felt so blessed to get the privilege to be in your life, in whatever way you deemed appropriate.

“Trevor’s special. In more ways than one,” Jamie chuckled.

His comment made you laugh, your head thrown back against the sheet as your legs lifted up to your chest as they kicked instinctually from laughter.

Your reaction made Jamie smile and blush, blood rushing up his neck to his cheeks, dusting his face a light pink color.

“I’m surprised we’re still friends with him,” you wheezed out. “With all the shit he’s pulled, he should’ve been blocked a long time ago”.

Jamie chuckled and nodded in response.

His heart was beating extremely fast, something it did regularly when Jamie was in your presence. He also had a hard time breathing too, but who wouldn’t?

A comfortable silence had settled between you two. You still laid down on Mason’s bed, eyes delicately closed and breathing steady as you tried not to fall asleep on the comfortable mattress.

The loud chatter of those outside Mason’s bedroom was only an afterthought as the two of you continued to bask in the comfortable silence. The domesticity of it all made Jamie’s heart lurch and his mind race. It wasn’t an entirely domestic scene, but it was enough for him. You are always enough for him.

The man wasn’t going to lie about how he knew about Trevor’s “masterful plan”. He had figured it out quickly after he heard his roommate mumble to himself about how his plan failed after that one party at their shared apartment. Confiding in Georgie only proved Jamie’s suspicions right—the redhead practically spilling every thought and plan Trevor had come up with in an attempt to get the two of you together. Jamie had nearly died at Georgie’s confession. That was the only confirmation he needed to pull up his bootstraps and finally work up the courage to confess to you. And, of course, Jamie knew of Trevor’s idea of throwing you two in a room together in hopes of the two of you getting together.

“(Y/N)?”.

So, here goes nothing.

“Can I tell you something?”.

That question piqued your interest.

You opened your eyes and sat up, faces inches away from Jamie’s face as his eyes never left yours. Your cheeks burned pink from the proximity and you found yourself cursing at your low tolerance for alcohol. Another reason why you much preferred the colorful, fruity drinks many alcohol brand names created. You didn’t need much to feel the effects.

“Yeah. What’s up?” You asked, shifting yourself a bit so all of your weight wasn’t put onto your arms, leaning a little forward.

Jamie’s mouth suddenly went dry, the words caught in his throat as his brain tried to scramble for something—anything to say.

“Should I have not said that about Trev?” You wearily asked, worried he took what you said about his best friend to heart. “Because I didn’t mean that! He’s a cool guy, really! Can be a bit annoying, but I’d never block him. Unless he did, like, something incredibly stupid like—”.

“No.” Jamie simply stated, it coming out more as a croak than a word. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“No. It’s not about that. I honestly agree with everything you said”.

That granted Jamie a smile of yours that he so desperately loved seeing on you. He copied your smile, licking his lips before then.

“It’s just—Damn. I didn’t think it’d be this hard,” he whispered, head slightly shaking as his eyes darted from place to place, nerves tingling throughout his entire body.

“What? That what would be hard, J?” You softly ask, hand coming up to gently grip his bicep in a comforting grasp.

The skin you touched felt like it was on fire to Jamie. Every time you touched him, sparks erupted underneath his skin. It always felt nice. Like it was supposed to happen. Like you were supposed to be touching him.

“I’ve thought day and night about this nearly every day since I met you. Do you remember that? Trev was so excited to introduce you. He was practically buzzing off the walls with excitement,” Jamie begins, his own hand gravitating towards yours that still grasped his bicep, gently wrapping around your wrist.

You giggled at the memory. Trevor had been excited to introduce the two of you. He was dead set on Jamie being the one to rid you of your relationship disappointments. The man had commented many times how his friend and roommate Jamie could be your one. You very much doubted that statement. You had given up at that point. But the second you locked eyes with Jamie Drysdale, all bets went out the window. He was so sweet and so gentle in speaking with you and shaking your hand. You were sure if angels walked the Earth, Jamie was one of them. That night, after leaving the café Trevor brought you to, you had realized that the center hockey player was right about Jamie being the change for you. But you still had doubted that something as kind, as beautiful as Jamie would fall for someone like you.

“Trevor wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about all your little quirks,” you commented. “He told me about your sleep talking and how you always watch the Mighty Ducks series whenever you don’t feel well”.

“Of course he did,” Jamie snorted. “What didn’t he tell you.”

You only smiled in response as you waited for Jamie to continue whatever he was saying beforehand. The butterflies in your stomach swarming and hurriedly batting their wings. You weren’t sure what Jamie was trying to say. You just hoped that he wasn’t going to abruptly end the friendship you two had.

“Trevor had mentioned some things here and there about you. Honestly, I wasn’t sure who I was going to meet that day from how little he mentioned you. He refused to tell me anything and insisted that I actually talk to you to find out more about you. Which, I guess, I should thank him for because then I probably wouldn’t have connected with you the way I did.”.

“It’s forever sketched into my brain—that day. I remember how cold it was that morning and how you walked in with only jeans and a jacket on while I had too many layers on to count. I think my lungs stopped working the minute you walked through the café doors and we locked eyes. I nearly spilled my drink.”.

You both chuckled at that. You had a feeling of where this conversation was going to go and your brain nearly started to overheat from how hard you were thinking and trying not to just blurt out how you felt to him. You never got those long confessions from those you were interested in. And since you were now getting that, you didn’t want to interrupt and ruin the moment. So, you stayed quiet and silently urged Jamie to continue.

“I know it’s cliché to say, but I’m pretty sure I loved you the moment I saw you. Everything about you intrigued me. Everything about you was so enchanting and I couldn’t stop myself from being greedy and wanting to get to know you better. I don’t even think Trevor spoke to us once during the entire three hours we were there. It was hard having to leave and part ways. I wanted to spend more time with you.”.

“I called my Mom later that night and told her everything. She laughed at me and told me that something similar happened to her and my Dad. That I should keep you as close as I could. I’m pretty sure even she could tell that I was already taken aback by you. It was that night that I knew no one else could compare. I mean, it took you, what, five seconds to break me out of my shell and have me talking the entire morning. You were special for some reason and you’re something that I cannot imagine letting go.”.

“So, I guess what I am trying to say is, I think—No. I know that I’m in love with you. And I have been since Trevor uttered your name,” he finished.

Unshed tears gathered in your waterline, threatening to spill over as you took in what the man you had held so close to your heart for so long just confessed.

Jamie too had small tears gather at the corner of his eyes. His heart pounded against his chest as he tried to slow his breathing down. He poured his heart and soul out to you and he only hoped that you matched his feelings back.

“Oh, Jamie,” you whispered, voice full of emotion. “I too have loved you since the moment we met. I think I had a harder time coming to terms with it. I had some rocky relationships in the past that made me feel inadequate for love. For the longest time I thought I was only made for half assed love and the kind of love that made me feel empty when it was over. But, meeting you has changed everything. Meeting you has rewired my brain in so many ways that I can’t begin to tell you the impact you’ve had on me. Just you alone have made me believe all over again. You make love seem not as scary as I thought”.

By the time you reached the end of your sentence, Jamie had tears running down his pale cheeks. He knew of your less than satisfactory relationships and hoped that one day, he could change your mind. He didn’t think he’d actually achieve it as just your friend. He only hoped that he’d be able to do more as your partner.

Silence fell over the two of you again as you both sat there in a warm touchless embrace. Jamie’s hand still gripping yours. Eventually, he moved your hand from his bicep up to his lips, delicately kissing it before placing it on his cheek as he leaned into the soft flesh of your palm.

“I feel like that was really cheesy, no?” He whispered, a giggle falling from his lips.

You could only giggle and nod in response, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

Your eyes met, both wet from the tears shedded. An unspoken question (Can I kiss you?) was asked between the two of you, a simple shake of your heads was the only confirmation you needed before leaning in and pressing your lips together.

Jamie’s lips were so, so soft that it made you want to cry all over again. His cologne was more pungent now that you were lip locked. The smell made you feel dizzy, your closed eyes not helping the slight vertigo sensation you felt. His unoccupied hand went to your cheek to pull you even closer, the need to become one ever so present in the air.

Your other hand went up to his soft locks, desperately tugging at the ends, making Jamie shudder at the feeling. You tried to get closer to the man, but the position the two of you were in was not ideal.

But, before you could pull away and climb into Jamie’s lap, the door to Mason’s bedroom slammed open, scaring the two of you away from each other.

“Holy shit! Yes!” A voice shouted, the owner jumping up and down as they squealed and shrieked in excitement.

“Trevor, what the fuck?!” You screamed, now lying on the bed sideways from the scare you received.

“I did it! I finally did it! You guys kissed! I am the ultimate matchmaker, bitches!” He continued, ignoring the glares he was getting from the two of you.

As Trevor began to dance in celebration in front of Jamie and you, you peeked a look at the man you just kissed only to see him smirking as he gazed at you.

But, the only thing you could do was shake your head and urge yourself forward, locking Jamie into another kiss.

“Ew! Hey, I’m right here! Just because you’re together now does not mean I consent to seeing you two eat each other’s faces,” Trevor exclaimed, a small smile on his face as he teasingly tsked at the two of you.

The only response to his comment was your middle finger as he slipped through the door again, careful to lock the door as to leave the two of you some peace and privacy.

———

( “So, did they do it?” Mason asked, feet propped up against the small table placed in front of his couch.

The Ducks player had originally been against Trevor’s “plan” but had ultimately agreed when he got sick and tired of Jamie moping around like a lost puppy after someone mentioned your name.

The smirk on Trevor’s face said it all.

“Good, hopefully he’ll stop looking like a lovesick fool every time someone mentions her,” he added, sipping his beer. “But you owe me big time, Zegras! I just don’t let anyone use my bedroom for their matchmaking plans”.

Trevor only saluted his teammate, uttering a sir yes sir! before practically skipping his way to Georgie to spill the beans.

Mason shook his head as he watched Trevor go, thinking about how much of a clean day tomorrow will be, headache already forming at the thought. )

[beansnsoup]

Jaelyn's fic recs!

Fluff- 🧡

Smut - 💛

Part One! -> Part Two!

Alastor-

☆ Deer Dolly - Series by @ohproserpine 🧡

☆ for valentines day, i thought i'd buy a gun. By @ohproserpine

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose. 🧡💛?

☆ Alastor x Wife!Reader by @altruisticalastor

Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to 💛

☆ my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife by @iicarused

synopsis:reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life) 🧡?

☆ come back to me by @iicarused

synopsis: you’re getting tired of the radio demon (part ii) 🧡?

☆ alastor + cunnilingus by @vmpyria 💛

☆ heaven knows your name by @iicarused

synopsis: heartaches after yearning for each other after decades of being apart 🧡

☆ alastor x married!reader by @bigfatbimbo 🧡

☆ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL by @popamolly

summary. Amidst the vibrant 1920s in New Orleans, a forbidden love unfolds in the lively jazz-filled atmosphere, evolving from an intoxicating romance to a twisted tale of heartbreak and murder, serving as a reminder to never dance with the devil. (SERIES) 🧡💛

Johnnie Guilbert-

☆ New Set by @corrodedcoffins-blog

summary: Giving boyfriend!Johnnie head scratches after getting new acrylics 🧡

☆ Collab by @teapartyprincess4two

summary: You and Johnnie pretend to date, faking it for so long that it became real. 🧡

☆ Run Your Mouth by @samandcolby-ownme

Prompt: Johnnie and reader get into an argument which leads to make up sex. 💛

☆ vampire!Johnnie x reader by @caeunot

summary- you find out your bf is a vampire 🧡💛?

☆ johnnie guilbert x reader by @caeunot

summary- johnnie writing zombie about you 🧡

☆ You by @sturnsreader 💛

☆ you know i’ll keep you in my locket by @stardustloserdoll 🧡

JSchlatt-

☆ "sit on my face." by @ghostkidabs 💛

☆ Jack & Coke part one by @d444zed 🧡💛?

☆ Jack & Coke part two by @d444zed 💛

☆ Mutual breakup headcanon/oneshot by @ohbabydollie 🧡

☆ Mutual breakup oneshot by @ohbabydollie 💛

Ellie Williams-

☆ no room for the holy spirit by @moncherellie 💛

☆ Roommate Trouble by @justkindalivin

summary: Your roommate Jesse and his girlfriend Dina fuck..a lot. loudly. When you finally get fed up after being woken up by their nightly “activities”, you go to Dina’s dorm for some peace and quiet only to run into her roommate, Ellie. 🧡💛

☆ hands to herself by @elliesbarbie

summary: ellie thinks you look a little too good in that bikini you chose to wear for the annual best friend vacay and can’t keep her hands off you 💛

☆ Getting caught with ellie by @me-and-your-husband 💛

☆ Body Ink by @me-and-your-husband

summary: you tattoo ellie's thigh. it's a bit of a compromising position, and it leads you down an unexpected road. female reader. 🧡💛

Alex Turner-

☆ Pillow Talk by @ohladymoon-blog

summary: what the title says, just pillow talk and soft cuddles after sex. ends in cockwarming. 🧡💛

☆ strawberry lace by @lilmisssweetdreams 🧡💛

☆ Test Drive by @savorypink 💛

Spiderman-

☆ Wingman (Hobie Brown) by @love-bitesx 🧡

☆ Crybaby (Hobie Brown) by @merowkittie 🧡

☆ "Thank You, Mrs. Parker." (Spider Noir) by @sabcandoit

Summary: After your wedding, you and Peter go home and have sex for the first time. 🧡💛

☆ Miss Your Face (TASM! Peter Parker) by @dontsaypetertingle

Summary: When you have to go out of town for work Peter gets lonely and a bit needy. An innocent call home to check on him becomes a lot more intense than originally planned. (Has a pt 2) 💛

☆ Break It In (Tom! Peter Parker) by @simplyparker

Summary: Peter gets his first car, and you want to have some fun 💛

☆ Please, Don't Stop Now by @echos-newlegs

Summary: you are in an established relationship with Peter, and he very much wants baby. 🧡💛

Fred Weasley-

☆ Facetime by @albertdabuttler

summary: !!MODERN AU!! Fred calls you in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, but you look so pretty and he starts getting a little heated up. (Has 3 parts) 🧡💛

☆ Sweet Sugar Candyman by @keykeep 💛

☆ Sleeping In by @screamingoverfiction 💛

☆ Slipping Through My Fingers by @midnightmoonytales

Summary: Watching his little girl grow up had to one of his favorite things to see, but also one of the saddest. Every pivotal moment of her life flashing through his mind, even to this one now. (Wolfstar!daughter reader) 🧡

☆ Electric Pull by @apparentlytheproblem 🧡

Steve Harrington-

☆ I'll Be The Judge (Ft. Robin x Reader) by @luvfae

summary: steve and robin get into an argument about which one of them can give a girl a better orgasm, you come up with an idea to settle the argument once and for all. 💛

☆ Cowboy Hat Rule by @taintedcigs

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. 💛

☆ Marriage Pact by @fantasylandloser

summary: besties that plan to get married 🧡💛

Eddie Roundtree-

☆ Blind Date by @luvfae

Summary: The reader and Eddie get setup on a blind date 🧡💛

☆ Lead Singers Are Overrated by @luvfae

summary: working at the whiskey has it perks and that includes getting railed backstage by a certain bassist in a band. 💛

Extras-

☆ Not In On The Joke (Brian Quinn) by @joe--bro

Summary: The Jokers have to do certain tasks to win in the park, and a certain task given by the rest of the Jokers leads Q to talk to you. 🧡

☆ Flavored Kisses (Xavier Thorpe) by @cosmicpearlz

summary: in which you wear a different flavored chapstick everyday and your boyfriend xavier loves it. 🧡

☆ Babysitting (Judd Birch) by @just-another-author-i-guess

Summary: you and Judd are the designated babysitters for the night. 🧡💛

☆ Don't Fake It (Peter Quill) by @professorrw

Request/Summary: peter starts getting frisky with the reader but shes tired and isn’t really in the mood. He would never pressure her or anything but she wants to make him happy and feels bad saying no, so she does it and fakes her orgasm just to get it over with. Later, he somehow finds out (or knew all along, you decide) that she faked it and of course his ego is bruised and he’s kinda annoyed, but also feels guilty she didn’t tell him how she felt. So the next night, she starts coming onto him and he makes damn sure she never fakes it again. 💛

☆ So Beautiful (Loki Laufeyson) by @lokiisdaddyblog

Summary: Reader is feeling insecure and Loki proves to her that she's perfect. 🧡💛

[randomyuu]

i keep the warmest truth.

Well you look at that. Another comic hahahaha why did I do this to myself—

But I do enjoy drawing this comic! It was a different kind of challenge, where this one focuses a lot on close-ups, so I need to learn about the subtlety of expressions. Can’t say I learn a lot (I use lots of copy-pasting of the same position lmao), but I still learn... something!

This beautiful one-shot fic is titled i keep the warmest truth by Dehawny. If I have to summarise the fic, it’s basically Ace!Gojou and Adorable!Yuuji. It's more like gray ace but better keep the “A” going, haha. And as usual, the fic is NSFW, so please do read the tags before you decide to give it a read.

Ace!Gojou is something I don’t know I need. I think I love almost every kind of Gojou headcanons, but Ace!Gojou holds a special place in my heart. I could be biased as someone in the ace spectrum, but the way Dehawny wrote Gojou and Yuuji’s interaction is truly heartwarming. And also a bit possessive, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Possessive Gojou is my jam.

And Yuuji. Oh, dear lord where do I even start with this boy. I don’t have enough vocabularies to express how much I adore Yuuji. Him being his horny teen-self and constantly worrying about making the pleasure mutual is too much for my heart. And he’s still understanding of Gojou’s sexuality. Yuuji is kind, like that. Don’t mind me as I’m crying out happy tears in the corner.

Alrighty, below are my thoughts as I drew this, as usual haha:

After I got a taste with comic-making from my previous GoYuu comic, this one is a bit easier to plan once I narrowed down the scene I want to draw. I wanted the comic to start with Gojou positioning himself and Yuuji in the futon, bringing up Yuuji’s question weeks ago, but that means I have to draw 10+ pages and I was like, “haha nope”. I still love my hands, thank you very much. So I start with Yuuji’s reaction after Gojou explains a bit about his sexuality.

Panelling is still a struggle. In a way that I still feel that the layout can be improved, but I can’t for the life of me figured out what needs to be improved. I guess this kind of thing will come eventually, but not now.

During the sketching, I must say I got super hyped drawing Gojou’s eyes. That eye close-up? I really want to try making it as ethereal as possible in an achromatic setting. It’s intimidating, don’t get me wrong, but I have always loved drawing eyes since I was a kid and this is a fun thing to test my love for eyes.

If I have to complain… it would be the intimate position of them laying on the futon. I never really try drawing “couple-like” positions before, but it was really hard! Like, holy shit, can you guys stop being so awkward looking? Where the hell did I draw it wrong??? Thankfully references have helped me a lot with positioning.

The line art took sooo much time because I realise I want to make Gojou and Yuuji more… buff (kinda) so I need to re-sketch a bit :(( but the result is better than the previous one, so I’ll take what I can get haha. And I start to really like using screentones for shading—once I properly learn how to do manga layout, I think I might fall in love with drawing mangas!

But overall, this is a fun process to do, and I hope you enjoy the comic and this rambling of mine! :D

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Top 10 Things I Love About the QL Tumblr Community 2023

I'm loving everyone's end of year lists, and decided to make up one of my own.

I haven't been on Tumblr for very long and was originally just lurking. 2023 marks the year where I finally started posting, after I read a take that made me feel compelled to come to a fictional character's defense. (Saengtai, my poor little blorbo).

So in commemoration of my first proper year of active tumblring, I present what I love about this community (in no particular order).

(Side note - Technically I know this is still primarily a BL community, but I like to say QL because I am trying to manifest more lesbians for us.)

1) The Gifmakers

Y'all are a good 70% of the reason I joined Tumblr in the first place. There are so many show moments that I want to relive, but without having to search through videos. Sometimes I want to appreciate the aesthetics. Sometimes I want to remember adorable or goofy moments. Sometimes I just want to see cute boys eating each other's faces. Our gifmakers give all of that to us, with the addition of so much creativity and style.

There's too many amazing ones to mention everyone, but I have to shout out @sparklyeyedhimbo, because the way your brain works makes me so happy.

2) The expertise

The other part of why I joined Tumblr was to learn more about what BLs were out there and what I might be missing. And holy hell. Y'all are putting in the work. Not only lists and resources for finding all kinds of QLs, like these fabulous monthly breakdowns by @gunsatthaphan, but also amazing posts that add additional context, like @absolutebl's incredibly helpful breakdown of Asian honorifics. There is so much research people do, for fun! And then they share it!

3) The meta analysis

I frickin love reading people's takes and analyses on series. I love learning, I love seeing perspectives from people with different cultural backgrounds to my own, it's all so fascinating! There's so much context we can miss due to our own privileges, or lack of knowing about various cultures, or due to whatever bubbles we've been living in. People here are just so smart, and nuanced, and willing to reflect and think about things, and also push back at each other, but generally with respect (except when you call out the dumb shit you see, usually on Twitter or TikTok, where people are being reductive and dumb about gender and sexuality).

And I've seen a few takes where people complain about analyses, and say that the director/production doesn't do everything deliberately, and we're all reading too much into it. To which I say, eh, lighten up. How people connect to and relate to media has relevance beyond what was intended. The point is we get to think and discuss and learn and grow. That doesn't happen if we don't analyze.

Special shout out here to @respectthepetty because colors mean things!

4) The wild theories

The other side of the analysis coin, the clown cars y'all drive around in with the wildest of theories. I have happily climbed into an occasional clown car, and usually I am utterly wrong (*cough* Saifah *cough*). But it's a super fun ride. I love seeing how people's brains work. I love it when y'all are wrong. I love it when y'all are right. It's beautiful.

5) Immediate acceptance

I am one of those people who knows that I have a lot of good qualities, and also, always kind of expect rejection. Blame the childhood bullies, I guess. Anyway, whenever I delve into a new space, I still feel like a total dork that no one will want to talk to. It's kind of a fraught way to move through the world, but I manage.

Anyway, I started posting my thoughts as they came up, and people are just totally cool with it. People even follow me sometimes. Even my silliest thoughts and dumbest jokes get at least a couple likes. It's so validating.

And my very silly joke about gay mafia in Kiseki has over 800 likes. I feel very seen.

6) Mutuals

I still kind of can't believe I have any. This ties in to the dork feeling above, but seriously - they are soooo cooooool. They're smart and awesome and funny, and they somehow find me worth following back, which is baffling yet wonderful. I want to squish their faces and give them many kisses (if they're into that kind of thing).

7) The self-exploration

I really appreciate how it's become more talked about how a lot of people are discovering queerness through BL, because that is so the case for me. I think it's both that I was in a bit of a hetero bubble before, and also that I'm evolving a bit as I age. I had figured out I was demi, and maybe a little bit gay, before getting in to BL, but being in this community, and seeing so many of you share so openly and freely, has made me realize it might be more than a little bit.

Either it was a new realization, or being around y'all has made me more gay. Win win, either way.

8) The weirdness

I'm weird. Y'all are weird. I love it.

9) The thirst

So many in this community are thirsty as fuck, and as someone who is in that same condition, I love that it's not just me. There are not many places where I can freely admit how horny I am as a part of my general existence.

Here? I could post about wanting to lick some random BL actor's face, and it would get a bunch of likes and some tags like #lickable, and it's just not remotely a big deal.

Also the gifmakers understand this, and give us beautiful cuts of our spicy scenes. They are genuinely too good for us.

10) The communal watching experience

There is absolutely nothing like watching along with people in the community. It is so worth the torture of having to wait week to week for new episodes. Seeing the show trend, watching the theories fly fast and furious, or the way everyone collectively loses their minds over particular moments. In a world that can feel very isolating, it's a very warm experience.

So there you go. Thank you all for being you. Here's to another year of QL shenanigans and losing our collective minds!

[galaxiasgreen]

📚🐦‍🔥Stay With Me

Slow burn Garreth x F!Reader romcom-mystery [T-Rated, 5.6k words]

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do." He stares at them, open-mouthed. "You've set me homework?"

Garreth Weasley is good at Potions… and not much else. You, a bookish, lonesome Ravenclaw with a weighted family secret, are good at everything… except Potions. Assigned together for a mutual tutorship, Garreth is sure he won’t meet anyone more boring.

But the potions lab isn’t the only place where sparks will fly.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, fluff, tutoring together, grumpy x sunshine, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, pining, love triangle, dark secret, sworn off love, Everyone Can See It.

[NEXT][read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

A/N: Just to note, in this story Garreth and others fought Ranrok with MC. Enjoy!

1. A Mutual Tutorship

He calls you Prim, mostly because you hate it.

It's not a nickname Garreth gives you for fun (though make no mistake, he loves to tease you with it). No, it's a nickname that's descriptive, deriving from your most cardinal trait. Prim, because you are. Prim and proper and academically minded. Meanwhile he's never had an aptitude for learning, preferring the freedom of exploration over the rigid structure of curriculum.

On paper, you seem like a match made in hell – but in practice? Well, he's always up for a challenge.

He doesn't get to meet you, though, until the dawn of his sixth year, when easy classes and free periods for the exam-weary older students are over. He doesn't even meet you on the day he first hears of you.

Back then, you were merely an illicit suggestion.

"I'm worried about you, Garreth."

He sinks into the chair in Professor Weasley's office. He's been here so many times now it practically feels like a second home, mostly for, ahem, disciplinary reasons, but there are the rare moments when his aunt calls him in for a quick catch-up, tea and biscuits, sometimes to discuss family news – a great grand-uncle dying or one of his cousins announcing a betrothal.

When the professor called him in this time, two days into the term, he thought maybe his parents were expanding their gnome collection and she wanted him to advise against it (there is such a thing as too many gnomes, and it's any number more than zero). Or maybe his sister Clara needed help adjusting to the school – she's a first year now, after all.

So it's like the rug is yanked from under him when she asks about his grades.

"It's two days into the autumn term, Auntie," he says, not prepared to have this conversation so soon. "What's there to worry about? I haven't even had all my N.E.W.T. classes yet."

"That's exactly what I wanted to discuss with you. You have so much potential, Garreth. You are incredibly bright and passionate, and I know you are capable of so much, but your O.W.L. scores left a lot to be desired, and I worry that you won't be able to handle the workload this year."

"Don't know if you remember," he says airily, "but I practically saved Hogwarts—"

"Yes, yes, last year in the caverns below with your friends, I know, Garreth. I was there." Her lips bunch. "But no school-saving antics will boost your grades. Your heroics are the only reason you don't have to repeat your O.W.L.s, and you won't have such an opportunity this time around."

He drops his head on the back of the chair, groaning. Imagine stopping a whole goblin rebellion... and still having to write history essays. He literally made history.

"Your father suggested something I actually like," she says, drawing Garreth's eyes back down. "It seems you need some motivation, and I know you work well when you're with your friends. Therefore he suggested you pair with someone. A mutual tutorship, if you will."

"You want to give me a study buddy?"

"Yes! Oh, I do like that phrasing much better."

"You can phrase it any way you want. Still wipes."

"Garreth..."

"Come off it, Auntie. What are they gonna' do? Sit with me doing every piece of homework I have? And I didn't flop at everything. I got an Outstanding in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Which were your only top grades, half of which because Hecat saw fit to reward your capabilities against Ranrok last summer," she remarks shortly, taking a piece of parchment. "You don't need a study buddy for those subjects. You do, however, need one for History of Magic, Astronomy, Divination and," she stares meaningfully over the rim of her spectacles, "Transfiguration."

He grins sheepishly. "As it happens, I know someone who's great at it?"

She sighs, putting the parchment aside and dropping into her chair. "I know you want to become a potioneer, Garreth, but even the most famous potioneers are well-rounded individuals and excelled in subjects outside of their specialty. Look at Professor Sharp! He was an Auror!"

"Okay, I get it, I get it." All this talk depresses him – all this knowing that he's a problem depresses him. "I promise I did try. I just— find revising very hard and demotivating. And you know, the whole saving-the-world thing..."

Professor Weasley gives him the look.

"I made it to N.E.W.T. classes, didn't I? I'll try this year, I will. You don't have to get me a... study buddy."

"Oh, but I think I do, and as it were, I happen to know the perfect student to match with you. A very bright young lady one year your junior, a Ravenclaw. She excels in all her subjects" – she pauses – "except Potions."

"So you want me to teach her Potions," he clarifies, "and her to teach me everything else?"

"That's right."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"I think you'll find it will be." She makes a knowing face that he doesn't like. "So, what do you say? Want to give it a try?"

"... Can I say no?"

"No."

He sighs. "Brilliant."

His schedule's already packed with classes and homework, now that his education's ramped up for sixth year, and he mulls on the extra work a mutual tutorship will bring for the next few days. Explaining it is even more difficult, when he has to tell Leander he's missing Quidditch for this.

"A study buddy?" he scoffs, as they lounge in the Gryffindor common room after classes that day. "Sounds right horrid."

"Tell me about it."

"Who're you pairing with? Do you know?"

"No idea. A Ravenclaw in the year below, apparently."

"A younger swot? Merlin's pelvis, couldn't she have put you with, I don't know, Amit? Or Everett? If she wanted a Ravenclaw?"

Garreth slouches. The sofas are so comfortable he doesn't want to move. "Bet she knew if she put me with either of them we'd get no work done, Everett because he'd be too busy trying to prank me, Amit because he'd be wasting time describing irrelevant extra stuff."

"Oh, no," Leander panics suddenly, "if this works then she might start doing it to all of us. I don't want a study buddy!"

"Relax. It's only because I'm her nephew that she's testing it with me."

He's sure his aunt wouldn't care quite so much if the same blood didn't run through their veins. After all, she has no children of her own – so Garreth and his sister are the closest she'll get. All her motherly affection, and motherly reprimand too, goes to them.

So when he gets the owl on Sunday afternoon to meet promptly in the library during lunch the next day, he sucks in his gut and resolves to at least try and have fun with it. He likes meeting new people, even if he doesn't like the circumstances – maybe he'll get along with the new Ravenclaw. Maybe they won't be as boring as he suspects.

He heads to the library the next day – late, mind, because he didn't particularly feel like rushing from Charms – and spots Professor Weasley waiting by the front desk.

That's the first time he sets his eyes on you.

Waiting placidly at his aunt's side, you're perfectly put together, not a hair out of place. Your waistcoat is straight, your long skirt starched, your shirt tucked in and top button done. You hold your books in your hand – because of course you do – and the satchel draped over your shoulder bulges with more of them.

You're the picture of a prim Ravenclaw student.

And it fills him with misery.

"Hello, hello," he says to you both, "sorry I'm late." Not.

You purse your lips, like you can detect his lie, but say nothing as his aunt gives him an admonishing glare. "That you are, Garreth. Did I not say you were to be prompt?"

"I grabbed some extra parchment, Professor," he makes sure to use her epithet in the presence of other students, "because I didn't know if I would need it."

By the way her brow loosens, it was a good lie. "All right. Come along, I've reserved a table for you both."

He decides to introduce himself to you on the way upstairs. "Nice to meet you."

You introduce yourself as well, but it's clear by your aloof eyes that you were also roped into this arrangement. "Nice to meet you as well," you repeat awkwardly, voice high with tension.

Turns out, Professor Weasley reserved an entire table, right at the back of the top floor. It seems unnecessary, the isolation, how you've obviously been coerced.

"Now, your proper sessions will take place after classes finish for the day, so for now I believe getting to know one another's style of learning would be most prudent." Professor Weasley ushers you to two seats next to each other. "I'll be sitting over there to keep an eye on you. Madam Scribner has given you both permission to have a quiet chat, so why not break the ice?"

It feels so forced Garreth would prefer to get a Howler right now, but under his aunt's stringent gaze, he plops onto the chair and tosses his bag under the seat. You draw out the seat gracefully, fold yourself upon it, and gently place your satchel, then books, on the table. There is method, he realises, to your movements.

"So..." he claps his hand awkwardly. "Where are you from?"

You clam up immediately, and he doesn't know why that's the wrong thing to ask, but he backtracks.

"Sorry, I mean – you know, where do you live?"

Your frown is still pronounced, but some relief breaths free. "London. You?"

"Devon."

"Right. I've never been there."

"It's nice. Except in the winter. Then the sea air is like murder."

Silence. He has a feeling he'll have to nudge all conversations, which is simply brilliant.

"Have any family?"

"Just my parents. They— they used to live in Asia, before coming here." You shift. "You? I mean, besides the professor."

"How much time do you have?" When you don't answer, he tugs his collar. Tough crowd. "Er, I have a younger sister. Clara, she's called. She's just started her first year. Little menace. Was hoping she wouldn't be Sorted into Gryffindor, but I guess it runs in the Weasley blood. Then there's my cousins, but there's so many that if I named them all you'd miss all your afternoon classes. Hey, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing?"

You don't even crack a smile. This will be a long, painful conversation.

"Why don't we get started then?" he suggests instead, because the faster he does this, the faster he can leave. "I mean, discussing what we're meant to be, er, learning together? Shouldn't take very long for you if you're only failing Potions."

Your cheeks bloat. "I'm not failing. I just... need a little boost."

Touchy. Okay.

"Well, I'm not afraid to admit I'm failing."

"Yes," you say, and you list on your fingers as you go. "Transfiguration, History of Magic, Divination, and Astronomy. That's four subjects."

"Hey, last year it was five, but luckily I managed to wrangle a Kneazle before it bit Professor Howin, so she bumped up my grade." He's still quite proud of that moment. You make an unimpressed face. "What? You should be grateful we don't have collect Flobberworm mucus together."

"Okay, well, I've prepared you some tasks to complete."

His amusement drains like pus from a Bubotuber.

"What."

It's a statement of disbelief so sheer he doesn't even accompany it with the tonal flick of a question.

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do."

He stares at them, open-mouthed.

"You've set me homework?"

"It's not homework."

"It's work that I have to do in my own time. It's homework."

Your lip curls in displeasure. "Like I said, if I'm going to tutor you, I need to know how much you already know. Then I can incorporate it into my lesson plan."

"Your lesson plan?"

"How else are we going to know what to cover per session?" you ask, bewildered. "You must have something planned for me, right?"

Of course he doesn't. He was just going to give you potions to brew and point out where you'd gone wrong. He rakes a hand through his hair, thinking about whether he could get away pretending to have a stomach/ head/ knee/ butt ache.

"If you don't want to do it later," you say, "you can do it now. Then I can be prepared for our first official session."

How about I run and never look back? With his aunt's watchful gaze on his back, he reluctantly unfurls the first scroll. Transfiguration. You hand him a quill and inkwell and he surfs through, ticking the answers he thinks are right.

"You're not even reading the questions."

"Am too."

"Glancing your eyes over words isn't the same as reading."

Oh, Merlin, you will be the death of him. Sniffing indignantly, he slows down, actually taking time to read the questions. How many exceptions are there to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration? He tries the rest, though not very hard, because just reading this stupid parchment has left him perplexed, and hands the scroll to you when he finishes.

He's halfway through puzzling when Geminis are born for the Divination quiz – he guesses February – before you roll his parchment up again.

"So? What's the verdict?"

You can't control the grimace on your face, and it's all he needs to know.

He's a total shambles. A failure.

"It's not— unsalvageable," you say hastily, your expression flattening. "But we have a lot of work to do."

He drops his head onto the table so loudly Madam Scribner yells "SSSHHH!" from the floor below.

When he's completed all your scrolls and falsely promises to make a list of things for your Potions O.W.L.s, you collect your belongings, slotting each book and scroll into its rightful place in your bag, give a quick word to his aunt in thanks and leave without goodbye. The whole exchange was about twenty minutes but to Garreth felt like twenty years. He tromps up to Professor Weasley in utter disbelief – and despairs in the way her grin unfurls.

"I told you it would be a fair exchange."

"She's made me homework, Auntie!"

"SSSHHH!" Scribner yells.

"Sorry!" he squeaks over the bannister. "Homework, Auntie. And— lesson plans. She told me I was practically unsalvageable!"

"I definitely heard not unsalvageable, Garreth."

"You can't be serious with this girl."

But Professor Weasley simply pets his shoulder.

"Your future is at stake here, Garreth. It's about time you start taking it seriously. She will help you. You will help each other."

But he really doubts it.

He waits for you outside of the Ravenclaw common room entrance for your first session later that week.

Dread roils through him as he leans against the bannister. Two hours of this, thrice a week, when he could be doing literally anything else. Quidditch has started again – which his aunt has barred him from playing due to his grades – but he could at least watch the Gryffindors practice, watch Leander and Eric Northcott toss Quaffles between them.

He's never had a mind for anything that doesn't interest him. History, divining the stars – both approaches. Even turning butterflies into bells doesn't capture his attention the same way potions do. There's just something about the way you can play loose and fast with the rules, with the ingredients, with the measurements, with the method, that delights his curiosity.

He wiggles his arm so it doesn't go to sleep. He's been to the Ravenclaw common room a few times, usually with Amit – for when they need to get back at Everett for catching them with a dungbomb. Unfortunately it means he's well acquainted with the eagle knocker.

"Honestly, Mr Weasley," it enunciates with that high and mighty tone, "if you sulk any harder and your expression will stick permanently to your face."

"Know from experience, do you?"

It doesn't bother to grace that with a response.

"What quandary plagues you so?"

"I'm doing a study buddy programme."

The knocker toots – literally, like a trumpet. "Hundreds of years I have guarded this tower, and never have I heard something so funny!"

"You could be more sympathetic."

"For the boy who thought it would be funny to tickle my nose with a feather when I was asleep? I think not!"

"I didn't think you had a nose!"

The door swings open then, and you step out. Prim, proper, picturesque. You startle at the sight of him.

"I thought we were to meet in the library."

"I was passing by, thought I'd come up and walk with you."

Suspicion flutters through your eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why would you want to walk with me?"

He blinks. Is he being stupid, or has he missed something? "Er, because it's a nice thing to do, and if I have to waste six hours of my life on this mutual tutorship every week then I should at least get to know you better."

"I see."

Something not quite as strong as displeasure edges your voice, but you fall into step with him – not missing the way he makes a rude face at the knocker on the way downstairs.

"Look, I'll be honest," he begins, "I don't like this arrangement any more than you do, but I'm naturally pre-disposed to not taking anything too seriously, so even if we have to endure revision together, we can at least try to have a good time with it. Sound fair?"

You don't answer immediately. "What's the catch?"

"What? No catch. I just don't want to be totally glum each time I see you."

Something flashes across your expression, but it's too fleeting to identify it. "All right, that's... understandable."

"Great."

Conversation is stilted, however, even when you get to the library. You don't immediately warm to him, which is odd, because he's very used to people immediately falling for his magnanimous charms. You pull out your notebook – a timetable neatly journaled into the opening page – as he dumps out his parchment and quills.

"Since our sessions cover six hours per week," you say, "I thought we could work on your subjects for four of them, and then two hours on Potions for me."

"Right, fine." Sounds positively wretched. "My aunt's got Sharp's permission to use the potions laboratory this Friday, so I guess we can do it then."

"The potions laboratory?"

"Yeah. What? Did you think we could do Potions work without... potions?"

"Shouldn't we focus on the written portion?"

He frowns. "The written portion of the Potions O.W.L. is tiny. Like, miniscule. And boring."

You draw yourself up. "I don't find it boring. The essays are the best part."

Oh dear Merlin. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but the majority of your Potions O.W.L. depends on actual potion-making." He grins. "Why? Scared, are you?"

"Why would I be scared?"

"You seem keen not to do it. Don't tell me you have some tragic backstory involving an exploding cauldron."

"No," you grind out. "I just... don't have a natural affinity for it like I do all my other subjects."

"That must've been really hard for you to accept."

He's teasing, but your face sours. Wow, you really are a tough crowd.

"Let's start. History of Magic."

This is one of those subjects he needs to know for his career choice – potioneers are expected to understand the history behind advancements in potion-making, after all – but Professor Binns makes it near-impossible to derive any sort of interest in the subject. The first topic of the year, the disbandment of the Wizards' Council in 1707, is already so dull Garreth can feel himself melting into the floor the moment the ghost opens his mouth.

"Now, I've already started the essay about the tumult of the Ministry of Magic's early years." You pull out a roll of parchment. "If we compare the key argument points—"

"Wait," he says, holding up his hand, "what do you mean, you've started the essay?"

"The essay that Binns set."

"You're doing N.E.W.T. level classes?"

"I'm doing N.E.W.T. level homework," you correct. "The professors assign it to me and I work on it with my regular homework."

"How do you have time to eat? Or sleep?"

You shrug. It's all so easy to you. You probably dream of your textbooks. It's so boggling.

"As I was saying," you continue, "we ought to start by comparing the points we've both made for the essay."

He just can't fathom it. Is there any point getting to know you when your spare time is dedicated to nothing but grades and studying? How can anyone be so academically good at (almost) everything, take on extra work, agree to tutor a frankly hopeless student... and still find time to enjoy other things?

"Right, yes, comparing essay points," he mumbles. "Sounds good."

Then again, he thinks, when neither of you move, and your eyes begin to narrow, you don't seem like the type of person to enjoy anything.

"You haven't started the essay yet, have you?"

"... Does a sphinx speak in riddles?"

You groan.

The first Potions session that Friday is a fun one – because now he gets to test you, watch you squirm and sweat. After the painful four hours together, scribbling theory for Divination and star charts for Astronomy, it's finally time to show what he can do. You're always so put together, so  he wants to see how bad you are, see what it is that justifies asking for his help in the first place.

Professor Sharp is waiting in the potions laboratory when you both arrive, seated at his desk marking homework.

Garreth grins. "All right, Professor?"

His expression curdles exponentially. "I trust I don't have to keep one eye on you for the entire two hours, Mr Weasley?"

"'Course not, sir. I'm only here to supervise my charge. In fact, you could say I'm the professor here."

"That doesn't fill me with much more confidence," Sharp mutters, then flicks his quill. "I've prepared the one on the left. Work quietly, please."

You seem nonplussed when Garreth steers you to the potions station. "Do you have a... reputation?"

"Don't know what you mean."

"You must do, by the professor's tone. You're a— miscreant."

"I'm a creative," he corrects. "Professor Sharp just doesn't appreciate my artistry."

"I can hear you, Mr Weasley."

"See? No appreciation whatsoever."

He gave you a list of ingredients to bring, and as he lights the fire beneath the cauldron, you sort them on the table – a bezoar in a mortar, mistletoe berries tied together with twine, Mooncalf tears in a phial. He notices you spend an inordinate amount of time placing them in neat, agreeable piles, rather than, you know, starting the actual potion-making, and he tucks this information away.

"Right, so, today I thought you could brew the antidote to common poisons."

"Antidote," you say stiffly. "Common poisons."

"That's what I said."

"Isn't that a third year subject?"

"It is." He smiles devilishly. "But we're going to do it with a twist."

Your brow furrows. "You're supposed to teach me relevant things, Garreth."

"You'll be lucky I'm not adding my own spin on it. No, just a simple improvement to up the ante. We're going make sure our potion can also act as an antidote to spider venom."

"Spider venom?" Your hand reaches for the textbook, but Garreth palms it away. "But— I need the recipe."

"You won't get the full recipe in your O.W.L. exams. You only get a list of ingredients and vague instructions. But it's better to learn by doing, and you will be expected to understand how the property of each ingredient affects the potion." He gestures. "Shall we begin?"

Your lips are flat as you fill the cauldron with standard potioning water – two pints of it, until it bubbles nicely over the flames. You know the first step by heart, which is to crush the bezoar into a fine powder and add four measures. Good start. With each of his thorough explanations, you fidget, uncomfortable.

"Why not just feed someone a bezoar? It works, doesn't it?"

"Why do we extract essence of dittany instead of just nibbling on the stem? Because combined with other ingredients the potion is more powerful. A bezoar wouldn't work against more virulent spider venom on its own, but it will in the potion we're brewing, because its healing properties are enhanced. Also, have you tried shoving that whole thing in your gob? Tastes rank."

"Wait," you say suddenly. "I need to write this down."

"The tastes rank part, or shoving in your gob part?"

You ignore him, grabbing your quill and scribbling furiously.

"Watch your cauldron. It's bubbling over."

You squeak, dropping the quill and stirring. A sheen of sweat coats your forehead, which is pretty hilarious. You've only just started.

"What's the next step?" he asks.

Your eyes skim the ingredients, frantic. "Erm... Mooncalf tears?"

"Try again." When you grimace, he says, "Begins with Stuh. Ends with andard ingredient."

You glare at him. "This doesn't make sense. Why add that now?"

"It's a stabilising agent. It emulsifies the ingredients together."

"Like eggs in a cake," you murmur, which surprises him. "But we've only added the bezoar to the water. What's there to stabilise?"

"Bezoars don't dissolve in water, and this will help the ingredients we add next."

He can see your frustration. Suddenly it makes sense why you hate Potions so much. You don't understand the science behind it – ironic, for someone who seems so methodical, and so proficient at other more technical subjects like Transfiguration. You pour the herbs into the brew, watching cautiously as the liquid thickens and changes colour from grimy brown to forest green, and notes of saltiness waft into the air.

"Good." The potion isn't looking too bad – maybe a little too green, but not unworkable. "Now, what next?"

"... Mooncalf tears?"

"Nope. You need to desaturate the brew."

"So turn up the heat?" He gives a firm nod. "For how long?"

"Well, you've added standard ingredient, which acts as a thickening agent already, and bezoar powder burns easily, even in water. Do you think much heat should be applied?"

"... Maybe?"

"Bet your examiner would love that answer."

You scowl. "Just tell me."

"Bring it to simmer," he instructs. "But only for a few minutes. For the aforementioned reasons."

After you write this down, you nudge another piece of wood into the fire pit below, then adjust the knob for heat. After a few moments, the bubbles pop ferociously on the surface. He watches you watching it, transfixed, eyebrows sloping in intense concentration. It's clear you desperately want this to work – but something holds you back, whether it's just disinterest in the subject or not. You lower the heat after three minutes, leaning back.

"Now do we add the Mooncalf tears?"

He laughs. "Merlin's beard, you're desperate to get those tears in. No, now you wave your wand and let it stew. Do you know for how long?"

"I remember this," you say. "It was about thirty minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Well now I'm not."

His grin only grows. "What type of cauldron are you using?"

"Pewter."

"How will that affect the time?"

"Isn't pewter less conducive of magical properties than the others, and therefore makes brewing time slower?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

"Garreth."

"Yes, you're right," he says. "You're a right laugh, you know."

"You're not," you remark tersely. "So it stews for more time then?"

"Probably about forty-five minutes, though I reckon with how you bunged all the standard ingredient in, it'll probably need a few minutes more. We'll eyeball it."

You squeak. "We can't— eyeball it!"

"'Course we can. When it's reduced enough, we'll take it off the heat."

Still, it's about a fifty-minute wait, and unfortunately you decide to get him back for all the fun he's having by asking how his History of Magic essay is going (... it's not). Even Professor Sharp laughs when he stumps at the first bullet point.

When the fifty minutes slog by (and they do slog – probably because Garreth dies a little with each legislative policy he has to know by name), you check the potion again. The water has boiled down to a gooey liquid, half the size it was before, and the colour has deepened.

"Now you have ground unicorn horn to add. This is where it gets interesting." His voice dances with glee, but you look like you'd rather get punched in the face. "The recipe for the regular antidote calls for a pinch of unicorn horn, then two clockwise stirs. But to work against a more potent poison like spider venom, you need at least two pinches, and double the number of stirs, to let everything combine."

You hunch over your unicorn horn powder. "Are you sure this isn't one of your creative exploits?"

"Hand on heart, this is all by-the-book," he says, then calls out, "In fact, I should really get some house points for it!"

"Don't hold your breath," Sharp calls back.

Garreth winks at you. "Worth a try, right?"

Your brow drops in exasperation.

Still, you follow his next instructions carefully. Two pinches of unicorn horn powder, then four stirs of the cauldron, and it hisses and pops as the powder melts into the solution. Finally you add two mistletoe berries, careful to keep the toxic leaves away, and wave your wand to finish. It's as expected – not bad for someone who claims to struggle at the subject, though he had to coach you through most of it.

"So... how do we know if the potion works?"

"Funny you should ask." Garreth reaches for his bag. "I have a spider I keep in a jar—"

You scrabble away at once. "What?" you shriek – it's the first explosive emotion he's seen from you. "No, no, no—"

"Merlin, that was a joke! 'Course I don't have a spider in my bag!"

Your shoulders drop. Your expression storms.

"Not. Funny."

But he giggles. "Come on. That was kind of funny."

"You really are a miscreant."

"Not a fan of spiders, are you?"

"They're detestable." You shudder, crossing your arms. "I don't know how anyone can stand the creatures."

"I think they're kind of cute. You know, in an ugly sort of way."

You step back to the station, gesturing with your chin to the potion again. "So? How do you know if we succeeded?"

"Colour, consistency, smell. Is it teal? Yes. Is it thick, and the bottom of the cauldron is only visible when you scrape it with a spoon? Yes. Does it smell like Graphorn dung?" He sniffs. Winces. "Oh yeah."

"How do you know what Graphorn dung smells like?"

"You don't want to know." (It involved Everett, naturally.) "So, with all those factors, we can safely say the potion was a resounding success. Huzzah!"

Yet you don't seem particularly pleased. He's not sure why, given that his aunt implied you were so poor at the subject even a mediocre brew was unthinkable. But maybe your bar to success is much higher than his. He helped you a lot, after all – maybe you'll only consider these tutoring sessions a win if you manage to brew an entire potion by yourself, without his ogling over your shoulder. Without someone literally telling you what to do.

And if that's what you want, okay. He's happy to help. The quicker you pick up these potions lessons, the quicker he is freed of your prickly company.

"Wait," you say suddenly, "what were the Mooncalf tears for?"

"Oh, those?" He chuckles. "They're not for anything. They're just to bamboozle you."

Your glare is potent enough to set him on fire.

"I am trying to learn here, and you fooling around is not helping."

"Who says this isn't helping? You'll never forget Mooncalf tears aren't in the antidote now, will you?"

"But— that's—!" You let out a groan. "You're being insufferable."

He just laughs harder. "You're so prim, it's hilarious."

"If wanting to learn things the proper way makes me prim, so be it."

"The proper way? Oh ho ho, no. There's no proper way."

"Written study is the proper way."

He leans on the potions station, grinning villainously. "Then I'll prove to you that it's not all about textbooks and words on a page. You're going to learn so hard you won't know what hit you. You'll see."

Your raise your chin, derision clear.

"Very well then, Garreth."

"All righty then, Prim."

He sees how it digs. "What? Don't— don't call me that!"

"Only calling you what you are, Prim."

When the session ends, he agrees to start that essay – or at least think about starting it – and you agree to review your notes for the antidote, but no matter how many times you remind him of your real name, he teases you with the moniker until you part ways. Unfortunately for you, insufferable doesn't quite have the same ring to it, and you wouldn't dare deign to his level of immaturity.

So at the end of the first week, you still call him Garreth.

And he calls you Prim.

[NEXT] [Divider credit, gorgeous art by Lyworth]

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Kirk x reader about to get married (black album era) but he gets second thoughts a week before cause his previous marriage (to Rebecca) was a bust? So he cancels everything and then the reader finds out she’s devastated and she leaves him? But guys from Metallica talk some senses into him so he plans another ceremony??

Hope you like it❤

Bound in love

The week before our wedding should have been the happiest time of my life. Every detail was set: the flowers, the vows, even a special song Kirk had composed just for the ceremony. But then, just days before everything was meant to happen, something changed. At first, it was little things—he’d get this faraway look in his eyes, or he’d go quiet right in the middle of a conversation. I tried brushing it off as nerves, telling myself that it was natural to feel anxious before such a big commitment. But it wasn’t just nerves. I felt him pulling away, bit by bit, and it terrified me.

One evening, he finally pulled me aside, his expression somber, eyes avoiding mine. “I… I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered, voice barely a murmur. I blinked, feeling like the floor had just dropped out from under me.

“Kirk,” I said slowly, reaching for his hand, “what are you saying?”

He took a shaky breath, his gaze somewhere over my shoulder. “This… marriage. I thought I could handle it, thought I was ready. But I can’t shake this feeling that I’m making a mistake. My last marriage… it was such a mess. I promised myself I wouldn’t go through that again.”

My heart clenched, and I fought to keep my voice steady. “I’m not her, Kirk. I’m not Rebecca. We’re not them. We’ve been through so much together. You know I love you, and I thought… I thought you loved me too.”

He flinched at my words, but the silence that followed was enough to tell me that he was already drifting too far away. I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. I grabbed my things and left, not wanting him to see how broken I felt. That night, I booked a ticket out of town and shut myself off from everything, ignoring texts and calls from mutual friends. I couldn’t face anyone, not with my heart in pieces.

For days, I wandered in a haze, barely eating, barely sleeping. I couldn’t believe that after everything we’d shared, he’d just thrown it all away. We’d had our ups and downs, sure, but I thought we’d make it. I thought we’d get our happily ever after.

Meanwhile, as I learned later, Kirk wasn’t handling things any better. The guys could see it right away; he showed up to rehearsal looking like a shell of himself. He was distracted, fingers fumbling over the frets, missing notes he’d played flawlessly a thousand times. Lars finally stopped the session, fixing him with a glare.

“Kirk, what the hell is going on with you, man? You’re a mess,” Lars said bluntly, crossing his arms.

Kirk sighed, dropping his guitar and rubbing his temples. “I called off the wedding,” he admitted, voice hollow. The words hit his friends hard, even if they tried to keep their expressions neutral.

James leaned forward, eyes searching his face. “Why? You were so happy about this just a week ago. You and her—anyone could see you’re meant for each other.”

Kirk swallowed, unable to meet their eyes. “I… I panicked. Rebecca and I… we thought we’d make it too, and that went up in flames. I just… didn’t want to put her through that if it wasn’t going to work.”

Lars sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, man. Every one of us has messed up. But do you think backing out is going to make it easier on her? On you?” His voice softened, and Kirk could feel the weight of the words.

Jason chimed in too, his tone more gentle. “Kirk, you’ve been through a lot, but she’s not Rebecca, and you’re not the same person you were back then. You’re throwing away something real here. And let’s be real—do you really want to live without her?”

That question hit him hard. He thought of the life they’d planned, the dreams they’d shared, the little moments that had made everything feel so right. The truth was, he’d been terrified of repeating his past mistakes, but losing her was even more frightening. He realized then that he couldn’t just let her go.

So, with the help of the guys, Kirk spent the next few days planning something special. He poured himself into every detail, making sure this was something she’d never forget. He couldn’t undo the pain he’d caused, but he was determined to make it right.

A few days later, I got a letter from him. It was just a simple note, but my hands trembled as I read it. “Meet me at our spot tonight. I can’t let you go without trying.”

My heart ached reading those words, torn between hope and the fear of being hurt all over again. But, against my better judgment, I went. When I arrived at our spot—a quiet clearing lit with twinkling lights strung through the trees—I saw him standing there, nervously fidgeting with his hands, looking up the moment he saw me.

The setting took my breath away. There were flowers, delicate arrangements on every surface, a small, intimate setup for just us. It was like he’d planned an entire new ceremony, just for me.

He walked up, taking my hands in his, his touch warm and steady. “I was a fool,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I was scared. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes, but walking away from you was the biggest mistake of all. I love you, and I don’t want to live a single day without you.”

I looked at him, feeling my walls start to crack. “Kirk, I was so ready to build a life with you. You broke my heart when you walked away like that.”

His eyes filled with regret as he tightened his grip on my hands. “I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it if you’ll let me. I can’t promise we won’t have tough times, but I can promise I’ll be here. I won’t run again. I’m all in.”

In that moment, everything I’d been holding back—the pain, the love, the hope—all came rushing to the surface. I knew he was flawed, that we both were. But I also knew this was real, and it was worth the risk.

He pulled me close, resting his forehead against mine as he whispered, “Will you marry me, right here, right now?”

Tears filled my eyes as I whispered back, “Yes. Yes, a thousand times, yes.”

And as he kissed me under those lights, I felt like we’d finally found our beginning—the start of a life we were both ready to fight for.

[fungusgnat444]

König tropes I want to burn with hell fire

sorry for this unprompted rant but some of you guys are starting to ruin my favourite comfort character (CW mentions of noncon/r*pe, mentions of xenophobia, mentions of n*zis, general problematic behaviour, mentions of bad disability/mental health representation)

-1. Casual xenophobia- I’ve lost count of the amount of content that depicts König as a n*zi and I kinda feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you why that’s not ok. These things should not be fetishised and doing this is overall just super ignorant. That’s probably the worst instance of this kind of things but there are a ton of examples. Like a lot of people seem to think that every German speaking country is exactly the same. And to codify him as a German speaker everyone seems to think they can just slap on whatever offensive stereotype they want. As someone who has visited German speaking countries multiple times and knows native German speakers personally, believe it or not not all German men are rude, humourless, cruel, alcoholic perverts who treat women like shit and have a bunch of super fucked up kinks and no understanding of consent. If any of you had ever met someone from this part of the world you’d know that in general they are very polite and friendly people. If you want to use a stereotype there are plenty that aren’t offensive and ignorant that could be fun character quirks (eg. Germans always having to have the windows open, having a sweet tooth, having three different drinks with breakfast (water for hydration, coffee for energy, juice for nutrition. Trust me it’s a whole thing lol), being obsessed with always being on time (also works because he’s in the military) etc.). Like please at least try to be a little respectful. And if you’re going to show him speaking German at least learn the basics. Duolingo is free lol.

2 mental health/disabilities- as someone who actually has autism I think it’s kinda cool that some people have written him as autistic or having adhd etc. but if you’re going to do this can you please just do a little research so you get the symptoms right and not over generalise. Like autistic people can in fact understand humour and sarcasm most of the time we’re not robots. It’s 2024 like can we stop this trope please. A lot of people write him having anxiety or ptsd, which again I think is super cool but it’s often used as an excuse for him being aggressive/violent. Like this isn’t cute, if someone is treating you like this regardless of if they struggle with mental health or not there’s never an excuse for violence.

3 r*pe/non con- this point is kinda about fanfic in general but I see it a lot with könig especially. People need to understand the difference between a cnc kink and just plain assault. Cnc is a consensual agreement with safe words and boundaries and aftercare and mutual enjoyment. What most of these fics say is cnc is literally just him being a sexual predator. For a lot of people this is super triggering and romanticising r*pe is just disgusting.

again sorry for the rant guys but I really just needed to get this off my chest. Like this stuff has gotten in the way of my own writing and is really starting to ruin the appeal of his character. Like I beg of you can someone please write something where he’s just a sweet anxious Austrian guy who’s kind and respectful despite his reputation? Like I really don’t think I’m asking for much.

[vsaintsin]

Writeblr Re-Intro

Yo! I'm V Saintsin. Or V or Vin or Saintsin or whatever you want to call me that sounds right on your tongue. I'm a self-proclaimed Social Media fumbler who got a late start to the party and has never quite figured it out. I hate how hipster and edgy it sounds to say "I'm bad at social media" but like I used to work with some people who actually managed the social media accounts for the business we worked for and there were rules and whatnot and damn, I think online media is just not my medium. That being said, here I am! Hah

I'm an author and general mess who's hoping to be the miracle man (somebody who makes a living writing silly little stories). I do use a pseudonym but please hear me out when I say I didn't realize how edgy it sounds, it just has some sentimental value to my personal life. I'm so sorry that I sound like I'm in my emo phase HAHA

About me -

He/Him Transguy from the American Midwest (arguably the south, depending on who you talk to, but the older people still say "Sodi-pop" and "ope").

I'm dysautonomic, bendy, permanently sleepy, and a survivor of Crappy Doctors Who Suck At Doctoring.

I like DnD, Pathfinder, Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk, Dragon Age, and other things in that vein.

I do make art of my stories and characters (Tablet is currently not working so I'm in a dry spell).

My writing background is predominantly ancient, dusty RPs from as far back as the foopets days and fanfic writing on Quizilla - I am an old and wizened elder of the net.

My formal education was music performance and behavioral neuroscience, I don't really know how I got where I am.

This is not my first rodeo with tumblr but it is the first time I have anything to SAY instead of just lurking.

In the event of malfunction, you can put me outside for 5 minutes and I'll probably factory reset.

My existence as I know it hinges on a massive number of sticky notes plastered throughout my room.

What I'm lookin' for -

Idk, whatever? I'm down for most things. Did you write it? Cool, let me see. I'm not too bent on genre or anything, just fascinated by the art of storytelling.

A bit tentative with fanfiction but that's just because if it's not a fandom I'm familiar with I am rather clueless about what the hell is going on and if it's a fandom I am familiar with I HUNT DOWN THE DEEP LORE.

I like art a whole lot, including fanart. Also art advice, love seeing things from different perspectives and learning something new.

Mutuals, really, for any reason. Building better connections on here, getting to know people. I am hideously bad at this but I try.

What I write -

Science Fiction with heavy subjects that matter to me - trigger warnings on a story-by-story basis.

High Fantasy (eventually books I think?) characters and their backgrounds for DnD and Pathfinder - I have been tempted to share these to help people get ideas or just for free use?

Things that I delete because I have crippling imposter syndrome and publishing makes me nauseous (doin' it tho).

Stories that I hope will make people feel less alone or that people could relate to, stories that I wish I had when life was worse and I was reaching out for anything I could find to keep me afloat, stories that try to be critical of things that SUCK in a way that's any helpful.

Lots of curse words and cussing (that's just how people talk 'round here), dubious science, things that I hope might make you cry but in a good way though.

Character-Driven stories that revolve more around the development of the person and less around the plot itself if that makes sense.

I've put blurb things below for my primary project/series which features a grumpy, queer, 37-year old chain smoking Frenchman and his misadventures with life and love and unbridled rage. If any of that sounds cool stick around and hang out? (This part is a plug bc I did a thing and I'm proud of it) And if my books sounds interesting the first one is 99 cents on Kindle and you just need a phone and a free app to read it!

THE SECRET OF LIFE (Published) - Sci-Fi/Psychological Thriller, Bi M Lead, Lovers to Enemies, AI but the oldschool cool kind not the real world thing that's stealing our future

Carlisle-Trystan Antoinette is a mercenary on a hard road, navigating life and death itself in an infinite cycle started by powers above his understanding. He has one mission - warn The Dianican Space Station of the coming threat and put a stop to a war that would encapsulate the whole of the Sol System before it can ever begin. Unfortunately for Carlisle, reality is a tenuous thing, made up only by our understanding of it. At least, according to his Psychiatrist, who tells him that there is no war, that he was never a mercenary, and that what Carlisle is experiencing is a severe but manageable psychotic break. Stripped of his combat enhancements, his bio monitor, and everything he's every known, Carlisle has a decision to make. Does he give in to the thoughts and memories, so real that he can almost taste them, or does he live a life of comfort and ease, returning to a husband and daughter that he left behind?

TWs: Domestic and War Violence, suicide, rape, medical trauma, grief, drug use

THE SILENCE OF ANGELS (Due 2024, TSoL 2) - Betrayal and Rage, Learning how to love again slow-burn romantic subplot, Learning how to Dad, A general inability for any one thing to just go right

(Quick Rough Blurb that offers no spoilers for TSoL) Making connections isn't easy for somebody who's accustomed to burning bridges. Isolation has always been Carlisle's mantra for surviving his life. Playing a role comes second nature, pretending to be the man that everyone else wants to see in him. When an old friend is murdered Carlisle finds himself as the primary suspect with all evidence pointing to him so clearly that even he calls to question what he is capable of. Unwilling to believe that he could commit such a heinous crime, Carlisle sets off to find the truth of his friend's death - was Carlisle framed or does he truly have the capacity to bring such harm upon those he loves? Old and new bonds will be tested, faith broken, and the future of everyone called into question as lines are drawn and sides are picked.

TWs: Violence, mentions of SA, graphic character death, more grief, more death

I don't know what else to say... Later!

[absolutebl]

Hii do you have any recommendations for bl that’s similar to Bad Buddy, My School President, and Semantic Error? Idk I’m looking for something fluffy, but with some angst for flavor (also potentially school setting but it doesn’t have to be). Anyways thank you so much!! 💟💟

10 Fluffy Yet Angsty BLs + School Setting (By Request Rec List)

Examples: Bad Buddy, My School President, Semantic Error

Interesting selection. I added the "school setting" to keep me tailored down. Let's see what we got.

You'll never guess how we are gonna start...

Did ya guess?

Seven Days

Japan 2015 - grey

Never doubt my ability to recommend this show. One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

I Cannot Reach You

AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Japan 2023 - Netflix

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen. Full review.

Light On Me

Korea 2021 Viki

Korea does an elegant pastiche of traditional live action yaoi but all tropes are cleverly deployed to bolster one of the most riveting love triangles ever put on screen… and I don’t like love triangles. LoM strategically tailors classic BL tropes to 2 different semes resulting in pristine pacing, plot, and character development, explicitly serving narrative (not just to tick boxes). LoM is a master class in this trope drops. (If you write fanfic or romance you should study this show.) Full review.

Cherry Blossoms After Winter

Korea 2022 Viki

Korea took on early Japanese sweet yaoi but gave it their signature softness and precise production with a STUNNING color palette (beautiful pastels, sun-saturated over-exposure), manga framg style, some traditional BL character archetypes, that tiny edge of bullying roughness and out-of-control seme, plus FINALLY a palatable take on the stepbrothers trope and it was, in a word, classic. Sophisticated and understated CBAW is not slow, it’s just subtle. It's dream-like and atmospheric, as if the whole thing took place under cold water on a warm spring day. Is there plot or peril? Not really. Do we care? Also, not really. Look, I can’t help it, I’m old school and so is this show. I grew up reading sweet yaoi, and this was THAT YAOI just on my screen. There’s no objectivity with me and this show. It’s a beautiful pastiche and I loved it for how it made me feel and what it remded me of. It’s not flawless, but it is a wonderful experience. Full review.

Takara-kun and Amagi-kun

Japan 2022 Gaga and Viki

I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this show. Reserved cool kid who must learn to communicate to keep the tiny disaster nugget he’s madly in love with. It is beyond charmg: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning. Was there plot? Not really. Was it emotionally tense and paced well enough for me not to notice? Absolutely. Did I enjoy the hell out of it? Oh yes. Full review.

Blueming

Korea 2022 - iQIYI

It’s a tiny bit dark and a tiny bit bittersweet, almost too honest to a university experience and first love for BL, but if you want your md ever-so-slightly messed with and your intimacy hellishly sweet, this BL will do it for you in a coldly distant manner, while bitch slapping you with self worth issues. I wasn’t into it at first, but the leads are solid and by ep 5 it got really good, becomg a narrative about self discovery meets understanding and accepting others people’s flaws without hurting them. Ultimately we witnessed two characters maturing because of each other and their mutual affection, without that affection becomg the conflict point. Instead, tension was built around other aspects of identity, popularity, and self-worth. While production values were a touch lower than usual for Korea, Bluemg included decent kisses and other forms of intimacy and a satisfying ending plus there’s judicious and very elegant use of tropes, this is a great BL. Full review.

About Youth

Taiwan 2022 - Gaga

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by real world authenticity and grit. Full review.

My Love Mix Up

AKA Kieta Hatsukoi

Japan 2021 - Viki

Completely adorable absolute chaos bi disaster muffin falls accidentally and utterly in love with his classmate, hijinx and friendship result. What’s great about this BL is that it deals with things like homophobia, asexuality, and one sided affection in an extremely gentle and palatable way. Perhaps sometimes too subtle, but I believe this is a great show for younger audiences, particularly if you want to spark conversations about identity, sexuality, authority, truthfulness, and consent. Oh and it’s funny.

The Eclipse

Thai 2022 - YouTube

GMMTV does gay Blacklist with a good boy/bad boy pairing. This is a good show but the cast is excellent and the leads are absolutely flawless, which elevates it beyond just good. We got a nuanced and multifaceted burgeoning relationship: philosophical (and socio-political) conflict contrasted to moments of empathy; flirtation contrasted to moments of genuine affection, plus plenty of angst. This narrative is less about love than it is about courage and tenderness. However, near the end the pacing was off and the plot frustrating. Still, this is an enjoyable watch, with a finale that features verbal consent and a fun blooper reel.

Destiny Seeker

Thai 2023 - WeTV

Frankly this probubly ranks along side most of hte runners up, but it's chronically under watched so I wanted to give it a special shout out.

A darn near perfect pulp featuring 3 likable grumpy/sunshine pairings with uncomplicated iterations of enemies to lovers. At least one half of each does a decent amount of pining and there’s good chemistry, classic tropes, and communication rep. It’s fun and full of linguistic jokes. Sublimely cheesy but a good rainy day offering with tons of rewatch potential. Full review.

Honorable mention

These satisfy your criteria but I jsut personally like the above 10 better. And you did ask me, still OPTIONS!

2gether & Still 2gether

A Breeze of Love

Between Us

Dark Blue Kiss (+ Kiss Me Again - PeteKao Cut)

Hidden Agenda

Love By Chance

Love Class

Love Class 2

SOTUS

Star in My Mind

TharnType

Theory of Love

Why R U? Thailand

Why R U? Korea

(source)

[yooniesim]

ok unfortunately for yall the dash made me have a thought so now I gotta ramble lol

but ya know. maybe it's bc I've had so much time away from here and all the bitching (/affectionate) but over the past couple years, I get less angry about this shit and more solution-minded. and I don't mean for the community as a whole (that's impossible lol) but in a sort of... personal circle/responsibility type of way. like what we can do among ourselves without the confrontation aspect bc, just being honest- from my perspective & experience, the anger and the bitching doesn't really accomplish shit. not to say it ain't justified, & it's important to raise awareness for sure, but i swear me & a lot of others that have been talking about this for a long time have just been barking in circles without anything budging one way or another. which leads to burnout/emotional exhaustion not just for the ppl in question but for followers/mutuals/friends. I spent far too long and waaaay too much mental energy thinking that being the loudest and the boldest would get something to change. but the scammers keep scamming and the shit just keeps going. and sure it's fun as hell to shoot the shit and pick and bitch and laugh with your mutuals. baby yall know I love a good simblr circlejerk. but ya know, when you sit down and think about it it's a lil depressing. and the ppl you're talking to/around are already Aware and eventually the anger wears off and they're just tired of hearing about it. you're preaching to the choir and everyone is just pissed and tired with no clear goal to work towards.

Part of that exhaustion is why i made @alwaysfreecc as a positive way to boost always free creators, without focusing on the paywallers. as well as always supporting alternate ways of getting paywalled cc. but I think it takes a lil more than just that. I think, like the post I just reblogged was saying, people need to learn how to make their own content too. I know there's a learning curve, but so many things paywallers make are outright easy to do yourself. Some aren't- there are paywall creators that put great effort into their content and make it worth your money- but a lot of them are. And that isn't to say you should make everything yourself, there's nothing wrong with supporting creators that make content you find interesting or wouldn't want to do yourself, but it can be really rewarding to learn how to make simple edits and recolors on your own. And, image editing and 3d modeling skills can also benefit you elsewhere in life! Whether professionally or when modding other games. Knowing how to make cc in sims helped me figure out how to make certain things for skyrim and fallout, for example. Hell, it's just plain FUN to figure out and do, and I think the community could always use more of that.

Also, sometimes it's freeing to just, stop using certain creators' content. Like, i used to be bitching yet downloading stuff off dhm and shit, out of spite mostly cos half the stuff I didn't even like. But since I cleared out a lot of paywallers' stuff, besides a few I think are worth it/doing things honestly, it just feels better. I don't even think about those mfs anymore until I see something about them on my dash and then I can barely remember who they are lol. You don't realize how much you really don't NEED any of that shit & how you were kinda just downloading it to be downloading it, until you toss it. AND it feels great to have mostly always free creators' content & support them. Liiike i feel proud of ppl i saw get started and are STILL FREE and making awesome stuff, it's exciting! even when I'm not playing the game, I see their posts and be like "dang I need to grab that when I update" or "man they've gotten so much better in so little time" or "wow I never thought of that idea/seen that before". Bc always free peeps get to be so damn creative bc they don't have deadlines or turning off their paying audience to worry about. Like it's so cool and positive and I love that.

idk, just. based on what I've experienced here, i feel like it's kinda time to focus less on what the assholes are doing now (aka the same exact thing they've been doing for years) and more on what to do to make our own personal experiences better. which I know a lot of us are doing! I just wish I personally had done it earlier lol so maybe someone else needs to hear that too. like toss these dummies to the curb and replace them is what I'm sayin. If not in the whole community but just your personal circle. raise awareness as needed sure but don't let em take any more of your energy. cos if you are petty like me (😂) it'll hurt em way more to cast em out than yell at em. all the ppl that have bitched at me yet still have my cc in their folders come to mind lmfao, cos personally that gives me more satisfaction than anything else so I know it's probably the same for the scammers! Like a "you hate me but you can't bear to not use my shit huh 😏" type of deal. Don't give em that sick pleasure! (/projecting) Just focus on you and yours and make some sick ass content for yourself, then share it to me thx 💅

[fluffydeoxys]

may I ask how you developed your relationships for zero, both romantic and platonic. I kinda need help with my own and you’re one of my favorite oc x canon artists at the moment, I love your work and you’re a huge inspiration !

ouuu... thank you.... (big wet eyes) That's a huge, very high compliment to me thank you!

If you have any further questions feel free to ask! I LOVE developing OCs and stories. I wouldn't say I'm any type of 'authority' on the matter, but I just love the process of creating, of developing and exploring. There's a reason why I named my mascot "The Editor" hehe, but anyway.

Putting a cut here because I talk a lot. I think if I put this on people's dashes it would be legitimately annoying LMAO. But if you're interested in reading about some of Zero's creation process and character dynamics, there's a fair bit of that in here

With Zero I had a lot of existing elements to work with, so some of her dynamics/ideas got a headstart. In addition, I wanted a romantic dynamic with 2BHank, so I asked myself: how could I make it interesting without losing the essence of 2BHank?

The Arena Mode story provided the blueprint for Zero and 2BD's dynamic. Initially, it's not dissimilar to how the story goes and the two have mutual respect. Doc is a little more eccentric and egotistical but he likes how obedient and efficient Zero is. He has a fondness for that, which unravels into genuine attraction with some more unhealthy elements when he learns of her "true origin."

With Hank, I wanted some sort of foil/parallel to his tendencies/mannerisms. Arena Mode also provides a perfect example of this. Zero's killing is duty-bound. It is boring. Hank's killing is freeform. It is fun. They are similar yet different, largely silent to mute characters whose existence is to kill, to maim. They learn from each other, in a way. But I didn't want them to overlap too heavily because that ended up being quite boring, so I wanted some contrasts.

Contrasting elements can be good on a character interaction or thematic scale. Foils are important to demonstrate key elements of what you want to say with a character or their story, and for me, how HankZero kills is important. How they perceive life and death and interact with it in the context of Nevada is an integral part of the story I wish to tell with them.

I think essentially look at what story you want to say, or if not something on that type of scale, what kind of dynamic you want to explore. Hell even start with one character, and then think about the scenarios you want to put them in. It's how I started with the multi-character concept that I'm currently working on.

Also take inspiration from media! Sometimes I do so deliberately, other times its quite subtle or unintentional. The dynamic between Rory and Jane (who I will reveal soon) has a lot of similarities to Elita One and Bumblebee, which I didn't plan but it helped refine their ideas. Conversely, Zero was inspired a lot by silent indie game protagonists, the Courier from FNV, etc.

When it came to evaluating Zero and the relationships she has with others, it was important to remind myself of the core aspects of each character. Sometimes I literally list them out as positive/neutral/negative traits (old technique from my OC development), or outline them as dot points. I also do this to help keep the character clear in my mind, and to ensure they stay relatively balanced in "pros" and "cons." It has helped because somewhere along the line with Zero I realised I didn't actually know what I was "saying" with her. Hence my current rewriting.

One element I definitely fail at/find lacking is creating conflicts between characters. I subconsciously make a lot of dynamics where they're usually on fine terms. Zero is mostly because she is quite forgiving and neutral, almost to a bad degree. But I think it's more fun and compelling when characters aren't perfect, they argue, and they have faults and flaws that make them clash. Hank finds it annoying how obedient Zero is sometimes. Doc finds it annoying when Zero and Hank fight and end up killing each other and wasting his time. Zero has an extremely hard time talking about what's bothering her so sometimes she's perpetually irritable and closed off.

When it came to reflecting on character dynamics as a whole, I stepped back at looked at the fundamentals of Zero. She is essentially a silent protagonist who came into this world feeling nothing. The way she was made, formed and trained makes her distinctly inhuman. Many of her relationships highlight this aspect of her in some way. But she has found herself through the people she has formed bonds with. That serious part of her interspersed with some silly charm. She doesn't express much, but those who know her can see the subtle differences. She is a guardian to all life, protective of the weak. But she will kill. She has learned she cannot save everything.

I'm still refining and adjusting elements on a day-to-day basis. More recently I've fleshed out her relationships with Deimos and Sanford. I think there is a subtle romantic element between them, but nonetheless, Sanmos is the more 'human' exploration of her. Deimos is lively, a huge chatterbox and quite silly. Zero has a great fondness for that and sort of follows him around like a silent shadow. She sees his vices and has little judgment for them (she doesn't really have a ton of personal opinions), so Dei feels strangely vulnerable and safe around her. He's great at reading her face, cus he got a lot of practice from when Sanford was really closed off. Deimos was the first person to hear her voice (besides Dave).

Sanford is her emotional bedrock. He was in a pretty similar situation to her (emotionally speaking), shutting everyone out and stonewalling emotions/life/etc. He empathises with her deeply and wants to help her, and is the first to notice/reach out. Zero takes a LONG time to open up to him, but eventually, she does and she's much better off for it. They share tender physical intimacy; Sanford likes to put his hand on her shoulder, and Zero will stand closer to him. When she needs quiet and to relax, she usually seeks Sanford out. Because Sanford understands Zero, she also understands him, so in their worst moments they support each other.

For the rest, I definitely want to flesh things out more. I've been thinking a little more about the aspects with Dave, but I'd like more detail for Skinner and Pava. And of course, I'd actually like to get QBert and Bossman in there somehow, because I can't think of a particular "point" that would make them interesting. Eg. for Pava, it was the weapon modification.

Having a good grasp on the character individually can also help with thinking of more random interactions. I don't think Zero is super interesting on her own, but putting her with Sheriff for example was pretty funny. Her passive demeanour and face looks eerily similar to Hank, which frightens the fuck out of him. But she just thinks he's cute, especially with how flighty he is. She has a lot of respect for what he's built with the MERCs.

Her relationship with the Maker is also interesting too, I think. I'm still reworking it alongside Zero's story so I hesitate to explain the particulars right now, but it's quite similar to the Pale King and the Hollow Knight.

Hopefully that explains? Some things? There's a lot of me talking about my own stuff but hopefully there's some useable advice/ideas in there. hehe

It sounds lame and boring and overdone to hell but genuinely reading/watching a lot of different things can inspire you in ways you didn't expect. It's something I need to do a lot more of.

[olderthannetfic]

I think the whole "write for yourself" and the "don't rely on external validation as your only source of joy/sense of accomplishment/etc etc" has become rhetoric which a writer or artist must first express before they're allowed to share any feeling of frustration, discouragement, or lack of community lest someone clapback with a "write for yourself!"

It is an important lesson to learn but it is a little bit annoying to see that preemptive disclaimer over and over anytime someone wants to have a discussion about the increasing "content culture" or the decreasing sense of community or honestly even just complain a little bit when someone puts your fic on a rec list in a private discord server as their all time favorite but never commented or kudo'd and you never would have known except there's mutual friend in the server. You must adequately grovel before you can speak on the topic.

I want to never have to give that disclaimer again. I was raised that pride is a sin, and being proud of an accomplishment is wrong. I had to demurely brush aside congratulations when I received my PhD. It's taken 10 years of writing fic (and lots of therapy) for me to finally reach a place where I can say I'm proud as hell of my fics. My fandom is in it's death throes so I never got the chance to fully appreciate the accolades.

--

[mariodreemurr]

So…here’s the thing.

I know I’ve been keeping everything under closed doors lately, but as I’ve started to drift into other non-selfship activities, I’ve been thinking a lot about my past in the selfship/fictolove communities. I’ve been thinking about what I’ve done, what I accomplished, what I experienced, what I failed to do, and most importantly, my future in it.

And after long and careful consideration, I have formally decided to completely move on from the selfship/fictolove community. I will still be a selfshipper in private, but I will never again interact with it in any way.

Truthfully, I won’t deny that I did some pretty bad things during my 8.5 years in it. But I have had some awful things happen to me as well, even in times where I felt like I didn’t deserve it.

IDK, maybe I just have absolute shit luck when it comes to the community. Or, there’s a still-standing stigma against people such as myself that has been there since I first joined. A stigma against people who ship themselves with anthro characters.

And trying to eliminate this stigma myself has been a major source of my problems. Hell, I created an entire server just for people like me, only for it to eventually lose its purpose and for me to be exiled from it. I can’t believe that I just poured my heart and soul into trying to make a change, only for it to mean nothing, and zero things have changed in those 8.5 years.

I wanted to try again, over and over. I wanted to have hope, that there was some other thing I could try. But lately, I’ve been thinking. I’ve been through a total of 4 traumatic experiences in this community, as well as 4 straight months of the worst depressive episode in my entire life after the last one. I’ve sacrificed so much for a passionate cause, and nobody has learned their lesson. Is it really worth it to continue, and perhaps spend another 8.5 years battling even more trauma, just to end up back at square one again?

The selfship/fictolove community has a ton of problems, and I believe that a lot of y’all agree. But this one problem I’ve faced for so long has made it pretty much impossible for me to play an active part in it. And, based on the results, it is very clear that I do not have the experience, expertise, or ability to change this. As a result, I cannot continue with this community any longer. I’ve done all I could, and it still wasn’t enough.

This is a problem I cannot solve on my own. This is something that another person, or a group of people, or the entire community needs to solve. But until then, I cannot continue.

I’m still a selfshipper, before you ask, but all of my F/Os are private now, and can only be revealed by looking at my past posts. I will still be friends and mutuals with selfshippers, but I will not be actively searching for new friends in the community. And I will try not interact with any selfshipping posts as best as I can.

I can’t believe that a community that revolves around something I was once so passionate about has brought to me the most damaging traumatic experiences of my entire life. But I guess that’s just the way the world works…

To close, if y’all followed me primarily for selfshipping stuff, I sincerely apologize. I may start posting semi-regularly again, just not with any selfshipping. I want to move on, I want to be through with this, I want no more pain. And I think this is the best possible option moving forward.

So, for those of y’all still involved with the selfshipping community: in case I don’t see you again…good afternoon, good evening, and good night.

[eds6ngel]

hi, b!

i love your account and i saw that you’re okay with writing smut.

i was thinking it’s eddie and reader’s first time and he’s really soft with her? maybe he’s worried about her losing feelings or of him messing everything up by his inexperience?

thank you! <3

hey darling!! i actually made them both virgins in this, just to amp up the sweetness <33 (and because i have no experience at all) also, i made this a part 2 to my 'new girl' fic, so if you wanna check out part 1, you can read it here!!

warnings: SMUT. fem!afab!reader. p in v. fingering. handjob. blowjob. cunnilingus. lots of kissing. sex talk outside of the smut. basically just your basic sex stuff. swearing. vulgar language. fluff. comfort. established relationship. r is 18, eddie is 20 [4.1k].

You and Eddie have been dating for three months by this point. You had done the most that normal horny teenagers had done: kissing, making out, grinding, hell, you even tried your part at having sex. However, it didn’t go successfully the first time.

The both of you had no idea what to do. Eddie condoms expired, so you agreed to do it without one, which was mistake number one. You weren’t wet enough whatsoever, the both of you skipping all foreplay. And to top it all off, Eddie pushed in all the way without thinking, causing you to scream out in pain and call it quits for the night.

Since then, you both avoided ridding of any clothes closely tied to a sexual nature, the pair of you scared to death that your mutual lack of knowledge was going to cause harm again.

You and Eddie both agreed that the failed first attempt was not going to be classed as your ‘first time,’ despite what society would try and argue against. You both wanted it to feel special, the relationship going strong so far, a failed ‘first time’ not ruining that for you.

You actually went out to the library both together and on separate occasions to research about sex. Eddie’s first recommendation was to sit down and watch porn together, you having to explain that in no shape or form would a woman in real life ever want to live out the fake fantasy of a porn film. Besides, it was also a very fucking weird thing to do.

Hawkins was a very religious town, you searching high and low for anything that didn’t bring up the topic of abstinence. And even when looking past that, the woman’s pleasure was always disregarded, the term ‘submit’ popping up more times than you and Eddie would like to recall. With you just turning 18 and Eddie 20, Hawkins Library gave you permission to access the restricted section, much to a very pleased Eddie. You had to keep him on track most of the time, Eddie getting distracted by the mature content.

“Baby, come on. We’re looking for books on sex, not Satanism.”

With even the restricted books being more sanitised than you would’ve liked, at least some of the authors knew what they were talking about, especially the female ones, to no surprise. You learnt about safety, to foreplay, to pleasure points, to techniques, your joint knowledge growing by the minute.

It had been around a month of research for the two of you, preparing for whenever the appropriate time would be to try again.

Which was tonight.

You and Eddie were sat on his couch watching a cheesy horror flick, Wayne working a night shift, leaving the two of you in the trailer alone, with no interruptions.

You were lying on Eddie’s lap, his ringed hand mindlessly threading through your hair as you focused on the killer slashing the victims on screen, fake blood pouring out of them as they perished to the ground.

“Babe?” you pipe up, Eddie humming in response, “How’s research been going?”

Eddie chuckles as you both look at each other, “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“We’re studying sources to learn new facts, sounds like research to me,” you smile.

Eddie kisses the crown of your head, “Just doesn’t sound very manly, does it? ‘What have you been up to recently Eddie?’” he says, putting on an overexaggerated posh accent, “’Oh nothing much, just researching how to have sex with my girlfriend.’ People would think I’m insane, sweetheart.”

You shift yourself so you are lying on your stomach, wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck and shrugging, “You can make anything sound manly babe. You could word in a way such as ‘I’ve been reading up on ways to pleasure my girl better.’ That’s such a hotter way to put it.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “Yeah,” he drags out, “But, I’m not looking into how to make the sex better, I’m looking into how to even start having it.”

“Better than most people,” you reply, “Many of my friends have told me that they don’t even get to cum when they have sex with their boyfriends. At least you’re trying.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of sex?” Eddie asks, as if a stupid question, “To make your girl feel good?”

“Unfortunately baby, most men just have sex for themselves. They just want the feeling of a vagina wrapped around their dick.”

Even though the two of you had a horrific first attempt, you were both still very sex positive. Just because you didn’t have it didn’t mean you were in any way uncomfortable talking about it.

“Stupid,” Eddie mumbles with a shake of his head, “They could just jerk themselves off for the same effect, stop wasting a girl’s time.”

“Is that what you do?” you tease him, “Just in between the research, you have a ten minute jerking break?”

“I get hot and bothered sometimes, okay?” he laughs, “There’s some very graphic images in there. S’hard to concentrate.”

And from your position sitting in his lap, it might not just be the research that gets him that way. “You sure you’re not feeling the same way now, baby?” you purr, looking deep into his eyes.

He groans slightly as you grind your hips into his, “Jesus sweetheart, if I wasn’t already before, I definitely am now.”

Your lips connected together in a passionate kiss, the pair of you grinding into each other as your tongues explored each other’s mouths. This was something you’d done before. As your relationship developed, you realised how easy it was to dissect society’s words surrounding sex. If it were society defining your relationship by its standards, you two would’ve technically lost your virginities to each other in the first month of the relationship. Grinding was a simple task to get the two of you going, even making each other cum by it. It was just further than that where you guys had an issue, which is why both still class yourselves as virgins.

As you break apart, you lift Eddie’s shirt off, him doing the same to you, looking into your eyes, asking, “Are we really about to do this?”

“I’m game if you’re game,” you reply.

He smirks, “Baby, I’m always game.”

You giggle as you begin to litter kisses down his neck, him moaning out as you find his sweet spot, his hands gripping tighter at your waist. You make a trail down his chest to his stomach, him gripping your hair as you do so, his head falling back against the couch. There was just something about your lips that were so intoxicating to him.

You reach the waistband of his pants, Eddie switching into his grey sweatpants the minute he stepped into his trailer. He was a metalhead at heart, but keeping up the physical appearance wasn’t always the comfiest.

He lifts himself up, allowing you to pull down the sweatpants, his white and blue checkered boxers on show, a visible bump from where he had gotten hard from the mere mention of you talking about sex. He hates to admit it, but this happened every time, you had just failed to notice.

You look up at him with the softest look in eyes, making sure that he was comfortable with you going further. As every book said: consent was key.

“Yeah, sweetheart, take ‘em off,” he verbalises, you nodding as you pull down his boxers, his cock springing free in front of you. You look up at him with a glint of worry, Eddie immediately taking notice. “It’s all about practice, okay? It’s you, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it regardless.”

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, Eddie already groaning above you by the mere feeling of your touch on his body. “I, um—” you stutter out, “Do I just go up and down?”

“Yeah, babe, just—” he wraps his hand around yours, the size difference sending shivers down his spine as he moves your hand in the same motion he would when he’s on his own. Yet, the slight change of you doing it in comparison to him made it all the more enjoyable. It was true what they said: it was the person, not the action.

He shudders as you begin to create a steady rhythm, you asking, “Is this good?”

He sighs, “Nothing could be better than this baby, thank you. God, fuck,” he moans out. However, what shocked him was how quick you became accustomed to him, the feeling of your tongue licking up the side of his shaft sending shivers down his spine. “Jesus fucking Christ, God.”

In your head, you were trying to recall the steps that the book you read taught you, trying your best not to mess up and cause your boyfriend to become uncomfortable. You lick the tip of his dick, seeing that Eddie loudly moans out at the feeling, hearing him say, “Just like that baby, take it down further.”

And so you do, hollowing out your cheeks as you take him into your mouth, Eddie grabbing your hair into a ball as he lightly guides you up and down, giving him maximum pleasure. You look up at him with innocent eyes, continuing to bob your head, Eddie swearing he just died and went to heaven.

He can feel his balls tightening up, Eddie yelling out, “Baby, wait, wait!” in a manner that came across a little too panicked, causing you to immediately jump off of him.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak out, beginning to ramble, “Did I get you with my teeth? Or was I too rough? God, I was probably too rough, wasn’t I—”

But, your nervous state gets cut off by Eddie grabbing your chin and pulling you into a soft kiss, you instantly cupping his cheek back. As you part, he leans your forehead against his, “It was nothing you did sweetheart, don’t worry. I just… don’t wanna cum yet,” he shyly smiles.

“Oh,” you giggle softly, “Okay.”

He kisses your cheek, making trail down your neck, “But, I do think it’s your turn to cum for me, sweetheart.”

You whimper at his words, the eagerness oozing from his throat. “Can we, um… go to your bedroom though? This is technically Wayne’s bed after all.”

Eddie chuckles, “Yeah, I don’t think he’d be too happy with that.” He shocks you by lifting you up underneath his arms, laughing to himself as he guides you to his bedroom.

As he kicks open the door with his foot, he carries you over to the bed, placing you down gently and hovering over you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. “You’ve given me all your love sweetheart, I’m here to give you mine.”

He litters kisses all over your chest and collarbones, sucking a little to visibly show that you belong to him. Nobody else was gonna get his girl.

Despite your eyes being closed, basking in the pleasure of his soft lips on your skin, you feel him reach around the back of you, trying his hardest to unclasp your bra.

Helping him out, you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck, smiling at him, “You need help with that, my love?”

“No, no, I got it,” he grits out, trying to get the hooks to come apart. “Why the hell is this so difficult?”

You giggle into his neck, deciding to press little kisses there as a form of distraction.

“Baby, don’t tease me. I’m struggling enough here.”

You laugh as you reach around yourself, pushing his hands out of the way and instantly un-hooking your bra, tossing it onto the floor.

Eddie can’t be drawn away from your breasts, his eyes practically bulging at the sight, his mouth agape. “I… um…” he stutters out, “I was gonna ask how you did that, but your tits baby… Holy shit.”

And no word of a lie, your boyfriend does grabby hands, like a child in a candy store, “Please can I touch them? Please let me touch them… Oh my God.”

You cup his face with your hands, smiling, “You can do whatever you want with them, my love.”

He breathes out, shakes his hands as he mutters, “Okay.” He pushes your breasts together, massaging them in his hands as he genuinely gawks, “Jesus… They’re perfect. You’re perfect. Fuck…”

You press a kiss to the underside of his jaw as a ‘Thank you,’ Eddie rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, a loud whine escaping your mouth.

He stops his motions, “That feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “It’s sensitive. Keep doing that.”

And he does exactly that, flicking over them, surprised that such a simple action could cause so much pleasure for you. “You need to go braless more baby, holy shit.”

“If I knew you would’ve had this reaction, I would’ve shown you them sooner,” you giggle.

“Better than any porn magazine I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles, leaning in and taking your left breast into his mouth, him pulling on your nipple, letting go with a pop. “Who needs porn when I can have you?”

“I better see the ones under your bed gone by tomorrow then,” you smirk back at him.

“Easiest decision I’ll ever make.”

He traces his thumbs over the sides of your hips as he makes a trail down from your cleavage to the bottom of your stomach, tugging at your belt, a much easier task for him than your difficult bra.

He pulls down your jeans, adding them to the increasing pile on the floor. The next thing surprises you, Eddie beginning to laugh as he places his head down on top of your cloth-covered pussy, his hair tickling the bottom of your stomach. “Shit.”

You laugh too, despite not knowing what he was giggling about, he was just infectious like that. “What, my love?” you ask with a smile.

“Took off your bra before I got to see the matching set on you,” he frowns over-dramatically.

You thread your fingers through his curls, “I’ll give you a fashion show one day.”

“That day better fuckin’ hurry the hell up,” he grumbles, delicately taking your panties off of your body, him not wanting to wreck them for the future fashion show you had just planned.

“Okay, he mumbles, situating his head between your legs, “I’ve heard that eating you out gets you wetter, so can I do that?”

You sigh happily, “Tell you what baby, we’ll do the colour coding system, okay? I’m giving you permission to do whatever you like. If I find myself uncomfortable at any point, I’ll say either ‘orange’ or ‘red.’ Deal?”

He nods, “Yeah, deal…” sighing out, “I’m sorry if I mess this up.”

You smile lovingly, “It’s you baby. You could be totally shit at this and I would love it regardless. Just like you said to me,” you reassure him.

“Well, I learnt some techniques anyway, now I get to put them to practice.”

You laugh as you hear him sigh out, “Relax baby, you got this.”

He nods, “Yeah… I got this.”

He takes his tongue and moves it straight up your pussy, causing you to push your legs in and let out a loud whine. “That easy, huh?” Eddie smirks.

You give him the same wide smirk back, “Depends on whether you can make me cum or not.”

“Challenge accepted,” he replies, moving up towards your clit and flicking it up and down, causing you to moan out in pleasure, “Eddie, fuck. Just like that baby.”

That spur encouraged Eddie to speed up his movements, flipping between an up and down motion to a side to side one, you grabbing onto and tugging at his hair, him discovering a new kink as he moans out loudly.

Eddie takes his middle finger and moves it down your folds, collecting your slick and pushing it into your hole, you immediately clenching around him as he sucks on your clit.

“Jesus fucking Christ Eddie, keep doing that and you’ll make me cum,” you truthfully whine out.

“God, sweetheart, already?” he asks, speeding up the movement of his finger as he tries his best not to rut against the bed, relieving the uncomfortability of his dick straining in his boxers.

“I’m an easy girl to impress,” you sigh out, giggling at your own statement and how truthful it actually was.

Without a doubt in your mind, you begin to rut against his face, trying to get yourself to the edge as quickly as possible, which was evidently working.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum,” you mewl out.

Eddie drills his finger in and out of your pussy, sucking on your clit and shaking his head back and forth, sending you into a spiral as you fall over the edge, whining out, “Eddie, I’m cumming, fuck!”

As you come down back to reality, Eddie looks up at you, gripping tightly onto your thighs, a smile on his face as your juices drip down from his mouth, falling off of his chin. “Fuck me baby, I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I’ve never cum that hard before,” you sigh out, still relieving in the height of your orgasm, “Guess it really is the person, not the action.” Exactly what he thought.

He licks up most of the juices on his face, crawling back up to you and connecting your lips in a soft kiss, you humming as you say, “I taste better on your lips.”

Eddie groans out at your words, “I’d love to be sweet with you and all angel, but I really need to be inside you right now.”

You nod, “Then do that,” you smile back, “I noticed you got a new packet of condoms the other week.”

He leans over to his beside table and rips open the packet, replying, “Yeah… Well, I felt like my research was coming to an end.”

He takes out the condom and rolls it onto his dick, pinching the end and looking down at you, “You want it just like this or—?”

“Extra lube? Just in case?” you ask nervously, Eddie nodding as he reaches over to grab the bottle and squirts some on top of the condom, rubbing it over the entirety of it, making sure it would be comfortable for the initial entrance.

This was the part you were most nervous about. This was where it all went wrong last time. But, you took the pre-cautions. You were already wet, Eddie had a condom on, and it was well lubricated. Eddie was a little over average in terms of length, which increased your worries. But, on the flip side, a little under on the girth, the part that would make the stretch worse if he was bigger.

Eddie lines himself up with your pussy, leaning his forehead against yours, whispering, “Please sweetheart, I beg of you, use that colour coding system. I’ve heard it hurts for most women, but it should soon fade away, okay?”

You breathe out, “Okay… I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

And that was the conformation he needed, slowly pushing into you, letting you take in the feeling and get yourself comfortable. “You doing okay?” he asks.

And for you, it wasn’t even that bad. Maybe you were one of the lucky ones, you don’t know, but it was more of a mild discomfort from the stretch rather than a sharp pain that the research told you. But again, Eddie being under average in his girth may have helped, something you were thankful for compared to how most women would have judged that.

“It’s actually not that bad,” you smile, “Just keep going slow, okay? We haven’t even gotten halfway yet.”

“Okay,” he nods, pushing in another two inches, the discomfort becoming a little bit stronger as you predicted, but not unbearable. It actually caused you to moan a little, something Eddie had been doing the second his dick pushed half an inch into your vagina.

“Only a bit more, okay sweetheart?” he says softly, you nodding as he slowly pushes in the final three inches, the discomfort subsiding into pleasure as you whine out.

“Fuck…” Eddie moans, “You are so incredibly tight.”

You giggle, causing yourself to clench around him, a growl erupting from his throat. God, he was vocal, and you loved every second of it.

“You can start moving now, my love.”

This was now where Eddie basically took over, his inexperience making him nervous, especially with how much he hurt you the last time. He wanted this time to be special. This was gonna be the first time for both of you, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to ruin that. He needed this to be perfect with the girl he loved.

He tried his best to find a steady rhythm, but was struggling. It felt good, but he sighed out frustratedly, you noticing his change in demeanour, “Baby, look at me. Just go in and out, don’t worry about being fast or anything. Just set a pace,” you tell him, cupping his cheeks.

“Yeah. In and out,” he mumbles, slowly pushing in and out, the two of you moaning in sync as he repeats his motion, before he finds himself a rhythm that you both enjoy, noted by a series of whines an groans.

“That’s it, you got it baby,” you say, supported by a sigh.

“That feels so fuckin’ good,” he groans out, deciding that he could speed up now that he found a good rhythm.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, your head falling back against the pillows on Eddie’s bed.

You had always heard that wrapping your legs around your partner’s back would somehow push them even deeper, sending women spiralling down the route of an orgasm.

So, you tried it, reaching your legs around Eddie’s waist, pulling him in closer, hitting something at the back of your pussy that you could only describe as mind-blowing. “Harder, Eddie, please!”

And so he complied, pushing himself both deeper and harder into you, the boy falling apart on top of you. You could only imagine how good this felt for him.

But, once he changed angles, it was over for you. This is what the G-spot must’ve been. You could feel his dick sliding across the top of your vagina, hitting a spot that sent shivers down your spine.

The atmosphere was constant skin slapping against skin, a series of “Fucks” and “Shits” being moaned out by the two of you. You were praying to God none of the neighbours in the trailer park could hear any of this.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Eddie chokes out, his pace already faltering as you reply through broken moans, “Me neither baby, cum with me.”

He moves his hand down to rub your clit, making sure you reach your peak since his thrusts were no longer as hard as they were a mere few minutes ago.

That sensation combined with his dick brushing past your G-spot over and over again caused you to see stars, a loud whine erupting from your throat as you choke out, “Baby, I’m cumming!”

The feeling of your orgasm causing your walls to tighten around him pushes him over too, him stuttering before coming to a halt. You can feel his whole body shake against you, a loud groan mixed in with a whine being let out as his dick pulses in your pussy.

As you both come down from your highs, your pants are the only thing heard in the all but silent atmosphere. Eddie smiles, trying to not let himself fall on top of you as he lets out a “Whoa…”

“Yeah, whoa…” you giggle, Eddie slowly pulling out, taking the condom off and tying it up. “Shit, I don’t have a trash can in here…”

You laugh at him, “You don’t have one in here?”

He begins to walk out to the kitchen, yelling back so you can hear, “Why do you think I have all that shit lying around my room, sweetheart?”

As he appears back in the doorway, you’ve tucked yourself under the covers, replying with, “Good point.”

He shows his goofy smile, one where he shows off his teeth. Your favourite kind of smile on him. He tucks himself under the covers with you, the pile of clothes being left in the middle of his room. You could sort that out tomorrow.

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead as you lay your head on his chest, “Get some sleep, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

You hum in response, closing your eyes, your mind fading away as the final words you mutter are: “I love you.”

And although you can’t see it, Eddie smiles widely, gripping you tighter as he leans his head on top of yours, whispering back, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

And that was the day he knew, you were definitely a keeper.

i hope you enjoyed this my love! and if anything is inaccurate, don't be afraid to let me know <33