invertis

[razzafrazzle]

human marzi!! almost got the whole main cast designed now :o]

[image description: a page of drawings for a human design of marzipan from homestar runner, where she is depicted as a chubby woman with two prosthetic legs that is wearing a long corduroy purple skirt, a matching cardigan, and sandals. next to a fullbody drawing of her is a drawing of her original design, a drawing of her in a long purple dress, and a drawing of her in her sultry buttons costume, where she has black hair and sunglasses. end id]

[miodiodavinci]

taking a moment to add my two cents i think

[creepyscritches]

Training a colleague on my time saving methods for various processes and she tells me I'm easy to learn from bc I'm so patient and nice and I 😭

[thisismeracing]

Literature lovers | CS55 (patreon exclusive)

read the full piece here

― Pairing: Professor!Sainz x TA!reader (she/her) ― Warning: implied age gap (reader is in her mid-twenties, Carlos in his mid-thirties); mentions of food and alcohol; graphic description of sex (p in v, oral –fem receiving, dirty talk); Use of Cassio Sanchez instead of Carlos Sainz for known reasons. (5.1k words) ― Summary: One of your favorite writers once said that “destiny guides our fortunes more favorably than we could have expected”, deep down you knew he was right, but you had never given it too much thought. Well, at least not until you heard the Spanish Literature professor say those words looking at you. Of course, it was dangerous grounds, but things clicked, and as he said so himself, destiny guided you together.

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Growing up, you always heard about how you had to be the best, had to run twice as fast as others, train more, and still hear how lucky you were. It was something that tired you once college came around. Yet,  it was almost like second nature to you, doing things as close to perfection as possible. That’s how you ended up getting into your master's right after graduating, that’s how you turned out being a teacher’s assistant to one of the most famous professors on campus, and coming to think about it, you guess that’s how he ended up recommending you to everyone.

That’s the reason he recommended you to Carlos Sainz, the Spanish Literature professor.

Your professor, English literature specialist, George Russell, was a posh Englishman who would occasionally forget some of his materials and schedules, always having a book on his nose and talking about it. You and he hit it off quickly. You were his favorite student, and when you became his assistant, he was even happier because you were just so organized, and punctual.

When George told you he was “lending” your teacher’s assistant’s services to another professor, because he was off, and his colleague had a few conferences that month, besides taking over his classes, you accepted. George knew you loved Spanish language literature, and he knew you and Carlos would work well together. At least that’s what he told you before sending you Carlos' work e-mail and handing you a copy of the uncensored version of The Picture of Dorian Gray, a book you had been trying to get for months but hadn’t been able to find that particular edition.

While setting some of your things for the first day with Carlos, you stared at his e-mail for the hundredth time. You didn’t know him. Your Spanish Literature classes were all completed during an exchange in Colombia, and the University was big enough for you not to know every professor by name or face.

Still, you took a deep breath and wrote an e-mail to Professor Sainz about some of your ideas for the upcoming semester, well aware that you had accepted the role and you would make it work. You liked to think that you could have denied George's request and could have told him about a personal project you’ve been working on, but you said yes.

One of your favorite writers once said that “destiny guides our fortunes more favorably than we could have expected”. Deep down you knew he was right, but you had never given it too much thought. Well, at least not until you heard the Spanish Literature professor say those words looking at you.

***

He keeps his eyes on your face, and you smile after swallowing a bite and finally opening yours.

“I take it, you liked the dish?” His amused, yet provocative tone made you shiver the slightest.

“It’s perfect, Carlos. Now I’m feeling bad I bought a cake from a bakery, instead of making our dessert myself,” you complained, taking another bite. Carlos caught the joke in your tone and smirked, eyes finally wandering down your body, or what the table lets his big brown orbs see.

The V-neck dress was not scandalous per se, it has sleeves that go to your wrists, and it’s not form-fitting, but rather loose around your body. It showed the right amount of skin. And Carlos couldn’t have loved your choice more.

His eyes found yours after a few seconds, it’s almost like he’s making sure you’re comfortable with his gaze, and the way you lean slightly on the table giving him the perfect view is answer enough.

“Don’t worry about dessert, you know we have it covered.”

“Do we?” You add to the tension, and Carlos chuckles.

“Oh, we sure do,” he nods, taking a sip of his wine. “In fact, how do you feel about skipping the whole meal and going straight to dessert?”

“It sure sounds tempting.”

“Do you want it?”

He was still sitting and hadn’t made any move indicating he was about to go your way. You knew this game you were playing and knew that the way he was throwing the questions your way was Carlos studying you, making sure you were comfortable with the outcome. He wanted you to be comfortable. He always wants it, and you can tell from the small details.

No pressure.

Never pressure.

He wanted you to want him.

And oh, how you do!

“I want it.”

He smirked. You heard the scrape of the chair against the wooden floor and watched as he walked barefoot to you. The first few buttons of his white button-up were undone showing you his tan skin where a few dark strands of hair peek out on what you can tell was a remarkably toned body.

Carlos pushed your chair back, turning it to him. He parted your thighs the best he could with your dress and kneeled between your legs. From this angle, he looked even hotter.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this sneak peek! This piece has been on Patreon since last month, but I forgot to add the sneak peek here hihi <3 I wanted to write for Professor!Sainz for a while now, and finally found the inspo to finish this piece, and the time to finish editing the last details. A huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon) and Dee (@struggling-with-delia) for proofreading this, and to K (@dancininseptember) for suggesting the TA!reader when I posted about writing this (Ily, guys!).

If you liked this sneak peek and want access to the exclusive content, subscribe to my patreon!💘

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©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[darkeralmond]

ok hear me out, a Jack Hughes smut where they’ve been together for 2 years and his mom finally lets reader stay over but it ends in smut in their basement 👀👀 maybe their like 18? whatever you’re comfortable with 🫶🏼

I AM HEARING U OUT SO HARD!! TY FOR THE REQUEST ILY!! ❤️❤️

Plans & Rewards

Jack Hughes x fem! reader

synopsis: jack and you have been dating since sophomore year and you haven’t been over to his house in the 2 years you’ve been dating. his mom finally lets you come over for dinner and you two get freaky in the basement.

warnings: 18+, smut, oral sex (m! & f! receiving), slight hair pulling, small dirty talk, jack being a horny devil

word count: 2.5k

a/n: i’m so happy about this little high school au i have going on! it’s so fun to write and is just overall entertaining for me!!

masterlist | request info

It’s been 2 years since you first started dating Jack. It all started sophomore year when your English teacher decided to pair you two up for a project. You ended up growing a big crush on him and he asked you out.

It was the last day of sophomore year and you decided to stay after class to talk to her one last time before summer break. “So, why did you pair Jack and I up?” you asked out of pure curiosity.

“Well, Y/N, I knew Jack had a little thing for you,” she said with a grin on her face.

You giggled, your cheeks flushing red. “How?”

She clasped her hands together and leaned forward onto her desk. “Because teachers know their students, sweetie. Trust me, you’ll be together for a long time. I just know it.”

She was right, they do know their students and you two did stay together for a long time.

Now, it was senior year and your relationship was more than perfect. The one problem was that you’ve never once been to his house. It’s not that they didn’t trust you, it’s that they didn’t trust their son.

They believed he would lose his control and get you pregnant right under the roof of their home. A baby was far from what Jack wanted, for now at least. What they were right about was Jack wanting to hook up.

You guys have had sex already. Whether it be at your house, in his car, or just at parties. Not to mention how much of a dirty texter he was. He was a horny devil, and you loved it.

You were laying in bed finishing up your AP Dual Credit work when you heard your phone suddenly ring. You grabbed it and saw it was a call from Jack. Your smile grew wide as you answered the call. “Hey, baby!”

“Hey!” You could tell he was smiling through the sound of his voice. “I was just calling to let you know that my mom is chill with you staying over for dinner tomorrow night. Are you free?”

You gasped as the smile on your face grew incredibly wide. “Of course I’m free! What time?”

“Around 7, but I’ll pick you up, don’t worry,” he answered. The sound of care in his voice caused butterflies to swarm your stomach.

You nodded your head, “Perfect!” You listened to him laugh on the other line. “I’ve got some work to finish but I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Okay, I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, baby. Bye!” You then hung up the phone and grabbed one of your pillows. You screamed out of excitement and started kicking your feet. You were finally going to have dinner with his parents!

You loved his mom, she was the sweetest person in the world. Jack did something to win over her trust and you were thankful for that.

You walked out of the front door and made your way out to his car which was pulled into your driveway. Your parents weren’t home, but they knew you were going out.

You got into the passenger side and looked over at him. “Hi,” you said. You were wearing a nice red dress and some nice sandals that you had stolen from your mom.

“Hey,” he replied before you two kissed briefly. “You look beautiful as always.”

You shut the car door and giggled, “Well, I need to dress and impress.” He nodded his head in response before pulling out of your house.

The closer you got to his house, the more anxious you got about the dinner. You didn’t have a specific reason, you only had a feeling of worry.

Jack stopped at a red light, looking over at you. He could read you like an open book which meant he could see how stressed you were. “Baby,” he spoke in a low voice and reached out for your hand, giving it a small squeeze. “They like you, you know this.”

You nodded your head. He wouldn’t lie to you, you knew this. “Yeah, I know. I’m just a little nervous,” you confessed, following it up with a nervous giggle.

“I get that,” he said. He then let go of your hand and began driving again when the light turned green. “But I'll be there next to you the whole time.” That made you feel a bit better. What were you so worked up over anyway?

You took a deep breath and got rid of all those nervous jitters. “Plus, I have a plan for us tonight which involves us in the basement.” He glanced over at you and winked. You knew exactly what that plan was just by the look in his eyes, and you weren’t opposed to it at all.

Dinner was good. His mom made cajun pasta which was absolutely divine. His younger brother, Luke, was there at the table with you guys at dinner, obviously playing as the annoying younger brother like usual. You’ve never thought he was annoying though, he was sweet. Jack thought the complete opposite though.

You offered to help Jack and Luke clean up the kitchen after dinner. “Now, you don’t have to do that, dear. You stay right there. You want more to drink?” His mother, Ellen, asked you.

You shook your head and looked over at Jack. “Actually, mom? Is it fine that Y/N and I head down to the basement? I want us to watch a movie.” He glanced down at you then up at his mom again.

She glanced down at you then up and Jack then at her husband then at Jack again. He had a completely innocent look on his face, which was impressive from a guy who just admitted to you an hour prior that he had a plan in that same basement.

After an intense stare down between him and his mom, she finally gave up. “Sure, honey. Netflix and stuff is set up down there,” she sighed.

He smiled widely, “Thanks, mom. I love you.” He looked over at you and winked before heading off to the kitchen to finish up cleaning the dishes with Luke. You giggled as you looked back ahead at his parents.

After a bit of his parents playing 20 questions about your academics and dream colleges, Jack came back to save you. “Alright, we’re heading down now.” He placed his hands on the back of your chair, pulling it out for you to get up.

“Alright,” she smiled before looking up at Jack with a stern expression. “Behave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled a bit.

You got out of the chair and Jack led you to the basement. Jack let you enter the basement first, you gave him a smile in response. “So, are we really gonna watch a movie?” you asked when he shut the basement door, your eyebrows raised.

He scoffed, “God, no. We can have it on in the background so they don’t hear us.” He grabbed your hand and led you down to the basement area. It was huge and looked like an amazing hang out spot.

“This is nice!” you said, looking around at all the stuff the basement had to offer. There was a large TV with a really large couch facing it, a pool table, an air hockey table, and a mini fridge. “Do you throw parties down here or some shit like that?”

He laughed, “Luke uses it more than Quinn and I do, but pretty much.” He sat down on the couch and grabbed the remote. You sat next to him and waited for him to pull up Netflix. “What should we watch?” He put the word “watch” in quotes.

“Uh,” you hummed in though while looking at all the movies. “Put on like… a rom com or something?” You knew you weren’t going to be paying attention to the movie, but it just seemed the most fitting for whatever sexual thing that was about to happen.

He threw on a random rom com and turned it up a little bit. It was loud enough to mask our voices, not unless you two shouted… or moaned too loud.

He looked over at you and smirked, he glanced down at your lips before kissing you. Your eyes shut as your hands found their way onto the sides of his face. You fixed your position to where it was more comfortable.

His hands ventured down to your waist as he leaned back, making you lay on top of him. You shifted your position again, straddling on top of his lap. He kissed deeper, causing you to moan quietly.

When you finally pulled away, you gasped for air and looked down at him. The smirk never left his features and he looked extremely proud of himself for even managing to get you two down here.

“So,” you cooed. You had a coy expression wiped across your features. “What do you want to do with me?” You were intrigued with whatever plan he had rolled up his sleeve.

“How about I… go down at you? If you can stay quiet.” His words caused your cheeks to burn red and you nodded yes quickly.

You off of him and sat back down on the couch normally. He got off the couch and positioned himself on his knees right in front of you. You helped him pull off your panties and you rolled up the bottom half of your dress, helping him have better access before letting him take control of everything else.

He spread your legs open and wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you in place. He dipped his tongue inside you, swirling it around before sucking gently on your clit. You were sensitive to the feel of his mouth, your head tilting back as you let out a quiet moan.

He flicked his tongue against your clit, causing the muscles in your thighs to jolt, his arms still able to hold you down.

He took long strokes with his tongue in between your folds until you started to feel yourself tightening. He took an extra slow lick before playing with your clit with his tongue once more.

As your legs continued to shake as the knot in your core grew stronger. “Jack,” you purred. “Go faster. Please!” The knot in your belly was getting tighter by the second.

Your heart rate was starting to pick up along with your sex drive. Your breaths became heavier and more hitched as pleasure pulsed through your body.

His tongue flicked once more, swirling around your swollen bead. His tongue worked its magic and he could tell how much it was satisfying you. You were going to cum any minute now.

He pulled his face out from between your legs and inserted his middle and ring fingers inside you. He pumped them in and out of you slowly, moving them in circles around your hole while his mouth went back to pleasing your clit.

Your breathing hitched and you arched your back, pressing your hips closer to his mouth as your hands dug into his hair. His lips were busy sucking you, and you felt like you were gonna die.

You tried to take deep breaths but your mind was focused only on his mouth sucking you off. “Please, fuck!” you begged. “Don’t stop.”

His fingers sped up a bit as his mouth kept working you off. You came undone with a moderately loud cry as your whole body shivered from the pleasure.

Your walls contracted around his fingers covering them in your juices. As your muscles relaxed, he pulled his fingers out of you and licked the taste of you off his lips. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered before he came back up to kiss you on the lips.

You tasted the mix of his saliva and your fluid as you kissed him. You pulled away and tucked a couple strands of hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you got a wild idea.

“Now,” you said. “I want to reward you for being such a good boyfriend.” He looked like a dog hearing the word “treat”, his head tilted to the side while a wild eye expression spread across his features. “Take a seat.” You patted the spot next to you.

He sat down, oblivious to the idea in your head. You scooted closer to him and pulled back your hair into a ponytail. You unzipped his pants before pulling down his boxers just enough to reveal his dick.

His breath got caught in his throat at the sudden feeling of your hands on his dick. You lowered your mouth into Jack’s shaft, licking at his slit.

He let out a shaky breath as he shuddered. “Fuck,” he groaned, leaning his head back. Your tongue lapped around his tip before you took all of him in your mouth.

You alternated from sucking him off and licking the head of his penis for a few minutes. He was obviously enjoying it since he kept moving his hips off the couch in order to thrust into your mouth. His hand ran through your hair while you sucked him off.

“Y/n…” he groaned, watching your head bob as you continued to blow him. “Your mouth feels fucking amazing…” His praises kept you turned on as the desire of making him feel good was your main goal.

You were able to taste the precum off his tip before he finally came undone. “Shit, I’m gonna cum!” he groaned loudly before he shot a load in your mouth.

You pulled away from his dick after that, wiping the mix of drool and semen off your chin. It was too much for you to swallow so you found the closest tissue box and grabbed a couple tissues to spit into.

You looked back over to Jack while wiping the rest of his mess off your face. He was still sitting there panting, staring at you with a look of satisfaction swept onto his face. “God, you really know how to work that mouth of yours.”

You chuckled softly before looking back at the TV. You could tell he was done by the way he covered his dick with his boxers before zipping his pants back up. You were pretty exhausted yourself, so you grabbed your panties and slid them back on

“You wanna rewind the movie and actually watch it? It kinda looks good.” You sat back down next to him and scoot in close before placing your head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around you, holding you even closer before answering. “Yeah, sure,” he said before he grabbed the remote and rewinded the movie all the a way to the beginning.

The rest of the night was spent with you and Jack cuddled up on the couch watching this rom com you had forgotten the name of before you eventually fell asleep.

His mother came down to check on you guys, seeing that it was just you and Jack on the couch with no funny business going on. She then crept back upstairs, leaving you two alone again.

[poiibbtt]

A Little Bit Like Forever

Pairing: Dokyeom x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends-to-Lovers, High School Romance

Word Count: ~4,500

Synopsis: Middle school chaos, high school awkwardness, and a love hidden beneath playful teasing. From sneaky stolen bags to whispered confessions in a dim classroom, you and Dokyeom were always a little bit of everything—until prom night, where a few photobooth pictures capture the moment when "just friends" becomes something a little bit like forever.

A/N: Hi, I'm new here! I really hope you enjoy this fluffy Dokyeom (aka Dikeyyy) fanfic. My English might not be the best, but I put all my heart into this story! Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading! 🖤

Middle school was weird, but somehow, it was fun. Sitting in the middle of two boys, Dino on the left and Dokyeom on the right, felt like a tiny pocket of chaos that made you forget how awkward everything else was. You weren't close with anyone else in that class, but with Dino and Dokyeom, it felt like… a compromise. You let them doodle on your hands—swirls, random lines, some silly drawings—because, well, what else was there to do?

“Stop moving,” Dokyeom said one day, drawing some weird stick figure on your wrist. You laughed.

“Why? You trying to make me look cooler?” you joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Pffft,” Dino added with a smirk. “Cooler? Sure, if you want to look like a walking art project from a 5-year-old.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, Dino, so supportive. Love that for me.”

But as fun as it was, things changed. Dino’s girlfriend, Mindy, didn’t exactly love your dynamic. She got jealous—angrily-so. Once she threw a fit so loud, half the school knew about it, and suddenly, everything felt off. When the seating arrangement changed, you were left out. Dino and Dokyeom hung out with the boys, and you… well, you made new friends, but group projects felt lonelier. Everyone paired up with their besties, and the boys? They didn’t choose you anymore. It stung more than you’d like to admit. You wondered if you were the only one who thought those days sitting together were special.

High school started, and Dino moved to China. It was just you and Dokyeom again, but this time, he sat behind you. You had Wonnie now, your partner-in-crime. Life seemed less lonely, at least until Dokyeom decided to continue being his usual playful self.

One day, you noticed your bag had mysteriously disappeared after class.

“Has anyone seen my bag?” you called out, frantically searching the classroom. A chorus of chuckles erupted from the back.

You glanced at Dokyeom, and there it was—his trademark smug grin.

“Okay, where’s my bag, Dokyeom?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Oh, I don’t know, Y/N,” he said, shrugging innocently. But his smile said otherwise.

The boys were still laughing, and as soon as you found your bag tucked behind the locker, you stormed back toward Dokyeom. Without hesitation, you wrapped your hands around his neck, mock-choking him.

“You think this is funny?” you grumbled, tightening your playful grip.

He didn’t flinch. In fact, he just placed his hand over yours, his smile growing wider. “You really think you’re scary?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Get out of here, dork.”

Then, it began: the daily texts from Dokyeom. At first, it was harmless. “Do we have any homework?” or “What was the page number for that assignment?” Simple stuff. You replied because you figured he was just lazy.

Until one day, during a quiz, his teammate Mingyu—a giant compared to the rest of the team—walked by your class. As the room fell into a sudden silence, he called out, “DOKYEOM!” and then, without skipping a beat, added, “Y/N! He likes you!”

Twice. He repeated it twice, just to make sure the message landed.

Your class? Dead silent. The teacher? Silent. Everyone? Absolutely, painfully silent. You were pretty sure time stopped. As your heart raced, you pretended like you hadn’t heard a thing. You passed the quiz sheets to the back like nothing happened, handing them to Dokyeom who sat there, not breathing, waiting for your reaction.

You didn’t give him one. Instead, you turned and asked, “Got the cells labeled yet?”

The entire room seemed to exhale at once, and time started moving again.

Later, you whispered to yourself, “I’m going to kill Mingyu when I see him.”

After that, things shifted. Dokyeom started texting you every day—not just about homework, but everything. From stories about Seungkwan hogging the bathroom to watch streamers, to Minghao pulling off ridiculous thirst traps for TikTok.

“And guess what Seungkwan did today?” Dokyeom messaged you one night.

You rolled your eyes but smiled at your phone. “What now?”

“He almost flooded the place because he was too busy watching Mobile Legends. And now everyone has to take shorter showers. Mingyu’s so mad, it’s hilarious.”

“You guys live like frat boys, I swear.”

Somehow, the messages made you feel… closer. And then, Dokyeom brought up middle school.

“Remember how Dino and I used to draw on your hand?” he asked one night.

“Yeah,” you typed back. “I figured it was just to pass the time.”

“Nah, we actually liked sitting with you.”

You paused, reading that over again. So, it wasn’t just you. The memories weren’t one-sided.

But the more you started to realize that you might like him, the harder it became to talk to him. You’d freeze up, getting tongue-tied whenever he was around. Dokyeom, on the other hand, seemed to hover around you more. Every time you looked up, he was already watching you, his eyes catching yours before you could look away.

Wonnie noticed, of course. “You two are ridiculous,” she teased, nudging you one day.

“What?” you replied, cheeks reddening.

“Don’t ‘what’ me. He’s literally attached to you at the hip.”

As if on cue, Dokyeom appeared at your table during a group project, not even in your group, just… there.

You glared at him. “Don’t you have work to do with your own group?”

“I’m more interested in what you’re doing,” he said, sliding into a seat next to you.

You groaned internally, but secretly? You liked the attention.

One afternoon, during a free class when everyone else was napping, Dokyeom found you. The classroom was dim, curtains drawn, and the soft hum of air conditioning filled the air. He sat beside you, closer than usual, and playfully took your hand in his.

“Your hand’s so small,” he mused, gently tracing your fingers with his. His lashes fluttered as he glanced down, and you found yourself holding your breath.

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but think how close he was. So close that you could see the faint flecks of gold in his eyes. So close that… your thoughts scattered when his thumb brushed your palm.

“Is this weird?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, but your voice didn’t seem to work, so you just sat there, hearts beating loudly in the stillness.

Another day, you walked into school, your stomach aching slightly, probably from the nerves. You passed by Dokyeom, who was sitting on the stairs with Soonyoung and Woozi. As soon as he saw you, he stood up, ditching his friends to walk alongside you.

“Not waiting for them?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Nah,” Dokyeom said, his lips curling into that sheepish smile. “Only waiting for you.”

You tried to hide your blush, especially when Irene, one of the basketball girls, spotted the two of you together. She smirked, as if she’d seen something juicy that would spread like wildfire through the school.

But in that moment, it didn’t matter. Dokyeom walked you to class, and you two chatted like the world outside didn’t exist.

Then came the teasing—especially from Dokyeom’s coach during basketball practice.

“Y/N, you’ve got Dokyeom all flustered these days,” the coach teased, his eyes glinting with amusement. Your face burned red as you tried to smile through it.

When you passed the gym one afternoon on your way home, the boys started calling out, “Dokyeom, Dokyeom!” You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the giddy feeling rising in your chest.

Later that night, Dokyeom messaged you, “Are you okay?”

You laughed, replying, “Mingyu needs to shut his mouth.”

As time went on, Dokyeom kept showing up—whether it was asking you to watch his games or just hanging around with you, Wonnie, and the others. One time, after begging you a million times to come watch a competition, you finally caved. Wonnie and Lisa came along for moral support (and for Lisa to cheer for her own basketball game).

The competition started, and Dokyeom—usually so confident on the court—was… off.

“Why does he look so nervous?” Lisa whispered to you.

“I have no idea,” you whispered back, watching him stumble over a pass.

When the game ended and it was time to go, you waved goodbye to him from the stands. “Good luck, Dokyeom!” you called out, and he waved back, giving you that shy smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

Lisa nudged you. “He was totally off his game because you were here.”

You grinned. “He’ll never admit it.”

Day by day, the countdown to graduation passed like a blur of final exams, senior pranks, and long talks about the future. And then, suddenly, it was prom night.

You were partnered with Dokyeom as prom dates, which everyone saw coming a mile away—even though he’d asked with that awkward, shy smile he’d never quite outgrown. The night of prom, you found yourself in a sleek black dress, feeling confident but nervous. When Dokyeom arrived to pick you up, the sight of him in a black suit was enough to make your heart skip. He looked so handsome—too handsome, honestly.

But if you thought you were nervous, Dokyeom was a whole other level. He could barely look you in the eyes when you walked out.

"You… uh… look great," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes darted everywhere except at you. His cheeks were flushed, and you could barely suppress a smile.

"You look pretty good yourself, Dokyeom," you teased, but that only made him turn even redder.

Prom was everything it was supposed to be—music, dancing, and laughter—but the real highlight came when you dragged Dokyeom to the photobooth set up in the corner. You’d convinced him to take photos together, even though he looked like he might faint from the sheer proximity.

“Come on, it’s just a few photos,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him in.

He looked at you and then quickly looked away, his voice low. "It's the dress. It's messing with my head. Stop looking at me like that."

You laughed, nudging him lightly. "Stop being so shy, it's just me."

But despite his shyness, he agreed, and you both stepped into the booth. You took the first pose, smiling hard, and when the flash went off, Dokyeom was grinning too—though you could tell he was still flustered.

For the second pose, you turned to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. Without warning, you kissed him on the cheek just as the camera snapped the picture. Dokyeom’s eyes widened, and his smile grew so big, he looked like he might burst from happiness.

By the third pose, you two were looking at each other, and the air felt a little different. More charged. Dokyeom’s gaze softened as he looked at you, and then he whispered, “You’re so pretty, you know? My heart is about to burst. Stop it.”

Before you could respond, he raised a hand and gently covered your eyes.

“What are you doing?” you asked, laughing softly under your breath.

“Just trust me,” he murmured, and you did. In the fourth pose, you felt his soft lips against yours, so quick and gentle, but enough to make your own heart race. When he pulled back, his face was bright red, and yours wasn’t far behind. You both sat there for a second, staring at each other, the weight of the moment sinking in.

Dokyeom was the first to break, covering his face with his hands. “You’re killing me, stop staring like that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how adorably nervous he was. “I like it when you’re all shy like this. It’s cute.”

He groaned, gently pushing you away with a smile. “Seriously, stop it. You’re making it worse.” But then his expression softened, and he took your hand again, squeezing it gently. “I love you, [Y/N].”

Your heart melted, and you couldn’t help but tease him one last time. “I love you too, Dikeyyy.”

Just as you were about to say something more, the curtain of the photobooth flew open, and the boys burst in like a whirlwind of chaos.

“Soarin’ like dolphins!” Mingyu announced dramatically. “C’mon, we want our turn!”

Dokyeom shot them a death glare, but you couldn’t stop laughing as you both stumbled out of the booth. The moment was over, but it was something you’d never forget.

[ghost-proofbaby]

I’m so glad you liked the jokes!

(I though they were hilarious because my sense of humor is nothing if not bad dad jokes, puns, and sarcasm. But I can’t even take credit for them because I found them online haha)

For the blurb idk if you intended for me to ask for something specific or not but I kinda just want to see what you’ll come up with if that’s okay? I feel like any idea you had would be better than mine anyway lol. Up to you really on whether or not you already have ideas or need some help. ♥️

the jokes were so so good i loved them truly. my sense of humor is the exact same way. and oh bless your soul for letting my mind run wild. i present to you all an idea that literally sent me feral, in which you've got some new perfumes and eddie is a blind idiot.

warnings: fem!reader, reader is very vaguely described as having hair that is at least shoulder length as well as buying items such as bras perfumes and chapsticks, hints at sexual themes but no actual smut, neck kissing and just good old fashioned kissing happens, eddie is kind of a perv? a little bit? also, not edited (what's new?) minors dni.

wc: 4.1k+ (i got a little carried away)

“Smell this.” 

The demand is paired with a sudden wrist in Eddie’s face that nearly has him falling off the bed. 

“Excuse me?” 

You and Eddie had been best friends for a while now. Since that first week of freshman year. Eddie, in all his awkward glory, had leaned up from his seat behind you in Mrs. Damon’s first hour English class, stabbed you right in the shoulder blade with a dully sharpened pencil just to inform you that he liked your shirt. You, in all your teacher’s pet façade, had only shushed him harshly and glared before turning back around. But some time between the ice breakers and the saving grace of the first bell of what would be a long high school career, you’d decided you would address him before you’d scurried out of that classroom and thank him. But not before you’d informed him that you didn’t even know the band displayed, had just thrifted the shirt for looking cool, and had unknowingly sent Eddie on a mission to educate you in the glory of his favorite band. 

And nearly six years later, he was still on that mission. You were stubborn and had sworn loyalty to Fleetwood Mac before Eddie and Metallica had ever even stood a chance. 

He doesn’t mind. He’d listen to the Rumors album on repeat for the rest of his days if it meant he always ended up in this position at the end of the day — in his room, on his bed, lounging with you to pass the time. 

Your wrist is still held up dangerously close to Eddie’s face in the present day, a look of determination and contemplation overtaking you, “Smell. My. Wrist.” 

Six years is a long time to grow comfortable with someone. And, in Eddie’s case, fall in love with your best friend. 

“I’m not smelling your wrist, weirdo,” he mumbles as he swats your hand away, squinting at the way you were perched on your knees as they sunk into his mattress. He had been halfway to a much needed nap before you had lost interest in whatever magazine you’d been reading, “Why do you even need me to? What didja do to it?” 

His words are still half slurring from fatigue. If he cuts off your pestering strategically enough, he might still achieve that nap his heavy bones so desperately yearned for. 

You readjust yourself, flopping down to sit beside Eddie with your legs stretched out as he lifts himself up. Shoulder to shoulder, calf along calf, the two of you prop your backs against his warm bedroom wall, “I went to Starcourt yesterday with Nancy and bought some new perfumes-“

“Perfumes?” he wrinkles his nose, “Plural?” 

He would have sworn he’d have noticed a new perfume, but these days, he’d been trying to put some restraint on his pathetic crush. Tried to tame the yearning inside of him, which meant less indulging in things like sniffing the air like a freakish dog whenever you entered a room just to drink in the smell of you that had brought him so much comfort over the years. Less letting his eyes linger on the straps of the bras you’d started wearing more of since you’d begun to hang out more with the likes of Nancy Wheeler, who had been single-handedly teaching you how to be a girl in a way Eddie had never witnessed from you. 

You’d wasted most of your critical youth surrounded by boys, by Eddie. Go figure that Wheeler was jumping at the opportunity to mold a blank canvas.

“Yes, I bought perfumes, plural, as in multiple- oh, don’t give me that look, Munson,” you scowl when he makes a face, wrinkles forming adorably between your brows. (Brows he was pretty sure Nancy had plucked for you last weekend, but again — Eddie wasn’t supposed to notice those things anymore. Tampering the crush, or whatever idiotic goal he had set for himself.), “They were on a BOGO sale. Bite me. Anyways, I got these new perfumes, and one of the ladies was telling me and Nance how you should layer your scents. Which, God, doesn’t that sound ridiculous?”

Eddie hums, eyebrows raised skeptically at where this rambling was going.

“So I bought these scents that she said might pair well together. But then, she was talking about body chemistry and-“ you cut yourself off, clearly realizing how boring this topic might be to someone like Eddie who hadn’t even picked out his own drugstore cologne (you had), “Listen, just… just stop questioning it and smell my wrist.” 

Once again, you hold your arm out in front of Eddie’s now softening face. He’s holding his breath, which he hopes you don’t notice, as he weighs his options.

Smell your wrist, probably subjecting himself to a terrible sort of pain when he realizes he'd much rather be placing feathery kisses there before moving onto your knuckles as he holds your hand. Or deny you, possibly hurt your feelings or offend you as he brushes this off as another girly thing he wanted nothing to do with. 

The fleeting image of your face if he were to reject you in this moment is enough to make his choice for him.

He never could say no to you.

“What am I even supposed to be smelling it for?” he grumbles as he reaches out and grabs your forearm, opting that safer territory than your hand as he guided your skin closer to him, “Like, I’m not a scents expert, sweet-“

Oh. 

Eddie’s brain short circuits as the tip of his nose brushes your soft skin. The pet name dies on his tongue, the inhale through his nose cutting off just as suddenly. 

Oh, God. Oh, fuck. 

He already knows he's a sucker for you, a dog with a bone when it comes to your presence and attention. He already relished in your old perfume's scent and the way it would cling to a room, lingering on his sheets when you’d sleep over after a movie night gone too late. When you’d borrow his Hellfire shirt and return it without washing it, leaving the collar tainted with sweetness and enough undertones of vanilla to make a chasm within him yearn terribly. 

But this new perfume, perfumes technically, were something different. They weren’t the same as the body spray you’d been using every day since freshman year. They were deeper, more complicated, more womanly than he had prepared himself for.

“Does it… does it smell good?” you meekly ask him, suddenly going shy at his frozen state, “Like, is it working with my… my own smell? Sometimes perfumes smell good on their own but don’t work with your body’s chemistry, that’s what the lady had been explaining to me and Nan-“

“It’s working.” 

It’s all he can manage to choke out as he lets go of your arm so that it falls away and takes the sweet smells with it. 

God, it was working.

Eddie felt more embarrassed than he had that first month of puberty, when he was just discovering girls and noticing the stretch of t-shirts over chests. He felt even more affected than the first time he’d let his eyes wander over the back of Cheryl T’s thighs the last day of eighth grade, and discovered the wonders of an ass’ curve. 

All his blood would not be rushing south. No. Absolutely not. He wouldn’t allow it, not when he was fully grown and should have some self-control, and certainly not when he was wearing his thinnest pair of boxers with grey fucking sweatpants. 

Your eyes are wide with innocence, or at least what he hopes is innocence, “Really? It smells good?”

He has to clear his throat before he can properly reply, “‘s good, yeah. It, uh, yeah. Smells good.” 

Think of naked grandmas. Think of kicked puppies. Think of literally anything except her soft ski-

“Awesome!” you’re suddenly sitting crisscross beside him, facing him fully, “Okay, that’s- awesome. Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” were you just as flustered as he was? Was he reading this wrong? “The lady actually told us - okay, I know it’s stupid and boring so bear with me - but she told us to put them on all our pulse points. So that way, it… uh… it makes the perfume last longer.” 

He can’t get the smell out of his nose. Something so sweet, something so enticing, something so… you. The perfumes were fancy, but somehow, they were you. Smells of summer and spring and tooth-aching sweetness that was driving Eddie mad.

He’ll never be able to let you sleep in his bed again. He doesn’t want to consider what shameful, hormone-fueled decisions he would make if he had to experience his pillow smelling like that even when you were long gone. 

Get it together, Munson. 

“Makes sense,” he lies, still struggling to get his tongue to function properly. All he’s thinking about is trailing it over that sweet spot on your wrist now, lips sucking on every inch of skin you currently had exposed- Naked grandmas. Kicked puppies, “Is that all you needed? Can I take a nap now?” 

Hell, he’s torn between wanting you to stay and ushering you out of his trailer so he can have a few moments alone. Weighing the risks of escaping to the bathroom for a few minutes too long just to get his problem under control. 

He’s twenty, not fifteen. A girl’s perfume should not be affecting him this way. 

Your face falls ever so slightly, “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Like I said, I know it’s boring-“

“It’s not boring,” he interrupts, realizing that he’s mere seconds away from genuinely hurting your feelings. Or perhaps he’s already there, having been a complete idiot. He still remembers your face the day he’d contained his reaction to your new bra — how he’d gone into autopilot and snapped the strap like some little boy on the playground just to play off how flustered it made him. You hadn’t admitted it to him, but his reaction had hurt you. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, “The whole science behind it — it sounds pretty cool, honestly.” 

Nothing that made you so excited, so giddy, could ever be boring to him. He loved seeing you buzz with your emotions and expectancy. He just didn’t love the way his heart and mind seemed to run with every single, little, goddamn bone you tossed him. 

You were his best friend. He shouldn’t think of you like that. He couldn’t. 

“It is,” you light back up in the slightest, saucer eyes boring into his again. Not quite as animated as before, but not quite as deflated as you had been heading, “Actually- Can I ask another favor?”

Anything. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” his heart had finally slowed its pace, the reigns back in his control as the perfume lingered in the air but didn’t overwhelm him, “What’s up?” 

“So… the wrists aren’t the only pulse points you’re supposed to wear perfume on.” 

Oh, God. Where were you going with this?

“No?” he tries to tease, tries to smile at you. It’s fruitless — his heart has begun to pound again, “I sure hope it wouldn’t be. I mean, blood kind of rushes everywhere, isn’t that the point-“ 

“The neck,” you blurt out, making the rest of Eddie’s sentence disappear into the air, “The, uh, the neck is the other place. Well, not just the neck, it’s…” you trail off, twiddling with your thumbs for a second before you lift a hand to gather away any stray hairs from curtaining the side of your neck. You even go so far as to secure the hand behind your ear, “Behind the ears. You’re supposed to spray it behind your ears, too.”

“Okay…” he enunciates slowly, resisting the urge to bite his lip as he starts to catch up with where you’re going with this, and desperately hoping that he’s wrong. 

“Can you… Would you…” you pause and take a deep breath, eyes shutting for a second. When you open the back up, a new wave of determination is set around your pupils, “Eddie, can you smell my neck?” 

What sort of sick, twisted, wet dream am I living in right now? 

Eddie is suddenly convinced you never interrupted his attempt at a nap. He’s asleep right now, soundly curled into himself, and you’re still lounging casually with your magazine on the other side of his bed. That must be it, because there’s no way you’re actually offering him to press himself so closely into your vicinity as he’s only ever dreamed of. 

“What?” he weakly questions. 

If this is a dream, dear God, don’t let me wake up. 

“Can you smell my neck?” you repeat yourself with a little more confidence before pulling your best puppy dog eyes, “I just- I want to make sure it smells good. Everywhere.”  

Damn Nancy Wheeler for whatever journey of self-discovery she’d sent you on. Damn her, and damn the perfume lady, and damn Eddie for reaping such benefits. 

He should say no. He should really, really say no. 

He’s wearing goddamn grey sweatpants, he should say no. 

“S-Sure.” 

Famous last words. 

Your hair has already been moved, making it easier for Eddie when he leans forward at his waist. You lean in as well, jutting out your chin and angling your neck for his taking. 

It’s such a bad idea. 

The tip of his nose is bumping your skin again as his eyes flutter shut. He’s trying so hard to contain himself, to not make a fool of himself. But when he feels that softness again, when he’s being unraveled by warm notes of vanilla and patchouli, deep breaths of apple blossom of blackberry – he just breaks. 

He doesn’t realize that his lips have joined his nose in brushing up against your sweet spot until he hears you let out a shaky gasp, one that almost resembles a whine. 

His reaction should be to pull back. He should remove himself, apologize for going too far, stop before he’s fallen off the cliff himself. He doesn’t. 

Instead, he takes a moment of stillness as his head reels, overcome in the smell of your new perfume again and ears straining relentlessly to seek out another one of those pretty sounds. 

He wants to hear it again. He needs to know if it was a moan or a gasp, or nothing more than a ticklish breath. 

His lips pucker with intention this time. His nose trails up behind your ear, taking in the full bodied scent of the perfume on the skin as he places another chaste kiss against your pulse.

It’s racing. Your heartbeat is goddamn racing. 

The moment his lips connect, another gasp sounds. A sharp intake of breath that whistles so sweetly to his ears before you’re exhaling with a proper, albeit quiet, whimper. 

No amount of naked grandmas or kicked puppies can save him now. He’s a goner – he’s been a goner – and he leaps off that cliff full force now as he leans back and out of your space. 

Your eyes are shut. Eyelashes fluttering prettily, just barely brushing the skin beneath your eyes. 

He almost whispers out a gentle sweetheart as he stays close enough for you to feel his breath on that very same cheek, but when your eyes finally do open to meet his, he can’t get a single word out before his body moves to its own accord. 

His lips press to yours before he can overthink it.

He waits for the inevitable – for you to freeze up against him, for you to shove him off, for you to curse him out. He shouldn’t have done that. He should’ve asked for permission, he should have had more self-control. 

But you don’t. Instead, you take him by surprise and you kiss him back.

Instantly, without an inch of hesitation, your lips work in tangent with his. Parting and welcoming him as if they had been waiting for this moment longer than he could comprehend. Pressing back with just as much, if not more fervency as his do. You match his desperation every step of the way until you’ve both exhausted all the breath inside your lungs. He has no choice but to pull back, to part from you and gulp in oxygen before he makes any more bad decisions. 

Lord know he’s full of them when he’s suddenly gazing into your glossy eyes. 

“I’m sorry-” he immediately rushes out to apologize, but a sharp shake of your head halts him. 

“Don’t be,” you whisper, “I… Do it again.”

“What?” 

“Kiss me again. Please.”

Eddie isn’t in the business of making you beg; he never really can say no to you. 

He kisses you again. And again. And again. A collage of pecks and soft slipping, tasting your chapstick and somehow moving the two of you so that he’s back to his original position with his back against the wall, and you now straddling his lap. You hover, completely unaware of how much you’re affecting him. When you let his tongue slip into your mouth without any bartering, he ends up letting out a moan that slips right down your throat. His hands are still so hesitant, but when you reach down and encourage his palms to engulf wherever they please, he’s on a mission of exploration. Soft caresses to your thighs, from the ditch of your bent knees to the skin hardly hidden beneath the hem of your lounge shorts. They wind their way up the pathways of your hips, squeezing at the soft give of the flesh there before he continues upwards. Up, up, up – until they find home in the curve of your waist, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you impossibly close. 

That damn perfume doesn’t just linger, not anymore. With you pressed against him, with the way he’s wound so tightly around you, it drowns him. Vanilla, coffee, blackberry, apple blossoms. A multitude of scents he’s sure his plain nose can’t even pick up on, and that he doesn’t really care to name. All he cares about is the smell of you. Something new and something fancy, but so very you. 

“I-” you break from the kiss, “Can’t-” you smack another one on him, beginning to take initiative, “Believe-” the next one misses his mouth, hardly landing against the upturned corner, “It took-” your final kiss lands on his dimple before you pull back fully and cup his hands within your palms, still hovering and straddling his waist, “A stupid fucking perfume ruse to get you to kiss me.”

He’s lovedrunk, all slow blinks and dumb-founded smile as he looks up at you, hardly processing the words, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” you squeeze his cheeks a little tighter in your touch, “I can’t believe I had to pull that whole stupid act of fluttering my lashes and oh, Eddie, can you smell my perfume for me? To make sure it smells good? To finally get you to just do something.” 

His head clears a little as the ghost of your kiss still buzzes on his lips, “Wait- what?” 

Your palms slide away, scratching at what scruff has gathered across his jaw line before your hands fully fall away, “You made me act like a damn fool, Eddie Munson.”

“It was all just an act?” 

“I can’t believe you were so oblivious.”

“You only made me do that so I’d kiss you?” 

“That,” you shrug, curling your hands into fists and gingerly placing them on his chest as his arms untangle from you slightly, only his knuckles resting on your waist now, “And the bra thing. And the whole thing when I bought all those chapsticks and couldn’t pick a favorite flavor.”

“They all tasted good,” he says, confused as he peers up at your faux annoyance, “I even tried them on for you-”

“I didn’t want you to try them on,” you whine, letting a few breathy laughs slip as you sit back, resting your weight entirely on his thighs and narrowly missing his boner you surely hadn’t noticed yet, “I wanted you to taste them off of me. I wanted you to make me put each one on, and kiss me stupid before you’d demand that I move onto the next one. I wanted to be the one to get your lips all sticky, not the fucking chapstick tubes themselves.”

“You-” Eddie’s mouth drops wide open, nearly wider than his eyes, “Hold on, you only brought that up so I’d fucking kiss you?” 

You nod as if it had been obvious, grinning wildly now, “God, you’re dense, Munson. I kept telling Nancy you’d figure it out eventually-”

“What does Nancy have to do with this?” 

“Nancy has been trying to help me concoct ways to get you to grow the balls and kiss me for months now. Although, to be fair, the bra thing had been Steve’s idea.” 

“Harrington?” Eddie gasps out in disbelief as you only throw your head back in laughter. It’s a beautiful sound, one that makes Eddie’s heart race even more painfully than the perfume had, “You went to Harrington for advice about me?”

When you lift your head back up to look at him, you’re all soft smiles and delighted eyes as you quietly admit, “I was getting kind of desperate here.” 

His chest heaves, finger unfurling from around your waist. 

“I was starting to think maybe you just didn’t like me bac-”

Without warning, Eddie’s hands are gripping your hips and he’s flipping positions, pinning you beneath him. He can’t wrap his head around it. You’d been wanting him to kiss you all this time. And he’d been a blind idiot. Snapping your bra straps, stealing away chapsticks and applying them himself when this entire time, he could have been living out his wildest fantasies. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything more as he begins to attack you with kisses. One for every missed opportunity. No expanse of skin goes untouched as they graze over your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your neck – anywhere Eddie can access feels the pressure of his eagerness. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he curses himself over your giggles, coming up for air just to stare at you, “I could have- Oh my God. Sweetheart, I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“You are,” you agree breathlessly with aching cheeks, “God, you are.” 

He balances himself on his forearms as he stays lifted above you, his hair forming a curtain to cut the two of you off from the rest of the world. 

You’re beautiful. Even more beautiful than that first day he’d met you in class, when you’d shushed him and all he did in return was make absolute heart eyes at you. 

His best friend. The person he’d be yearning and pining for for six long years. Who had been trying to get him to kiss her for over six months now. 

“I like you,” you confess, not breaking eye contact as a hand comes up to his cheek. He’s quick to turn his head, to let your palm press against him as he presses a kiss to your inner wrist, the perfume engulfing him again, “In case that wasn’t obvious.” 

He swallows hard, letting his lips remove themselves slowly from your skin and his nose to linger as it presses into the smooth skin, “I like you, too. Have for a few years now.”

“A few?”

“Okay, yeah- the whole time,” his words pull a wider grin from you, “Don’t look so smug. I’m not letting you live down this whole perfume bullshit scheme.” 

“And I’m not letting you live down going feral over some overpriced scented oils,” you retort, your cute snort cut short as your breath catches when he kisses your wrist again, “In all seriousness, though… Do you really think it smells good?” 

He takes the opportunity to finally lower his hips. Just enough so that his crotch is brushing against your inner thigh, “Yeah, I think you could say I think they smell very good.” 

Your hand travels back, caressing at his ear and sending a shiver down his spine before both of them latch behind his neck, prepared to pull him down into a kiss, “You got hard over some new perfumes, Munson? God, you’re easy.” 

“I am,” he doesn’t fight it as he lets you, not gravity, tug him downwards, “I am so easy when it comes to you, baby.” 

“Good thing I’m wearing one of those new bras, then,” you muse, placing far too quick of a kiss for his liking onto his lips before you tug him a bit lower, burying his face back in the side of your neck as you whisper in his ear, “Prove it.” 

Eddie should probably send a thank you card to Nancy Wheeler and the mall’s perfume lady. Not Harrington, though. Never Steve Harrington.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone

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[sunshine-theseus]

Angel In Disguise | Esme Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: life’s hard when all your students prefer your footballer partner over you.

Warnings: fluff, children? idk how the English school timeline works and the Australian one doesn’t match up with the story so I’m just saying school starts in like September and ends in late May??

Request for: @wlwskyy i hope this is good! it's probably not as good as I hoped but i'm still pretty happy with it

Being a primary school teacher was hard. Trying to help students who struggle with the content while also helping others progress. Being strict while also wanting to be fun. My biggest struggle though, was a very me specific one.

Esme Morgan loves to visit me or help me out at school from time to time, and just like everyone else she meets, the kids fall in love with her. From the first time they meet her, they’re begging me to bring her back.

“Ms L/n it’s so cool you’re dating a footballer! Can you bring her back tomorrow? And the day after that and the day after that one until forever?” and once they realise that she actually has her own job to do, they beg I bring her in at least once a term.

It was my first year teaching after university, the first time she’d come to work, and it had been a complete surprise.

After she broke her leg in 2021, Esme struggled to fill her time. She’d made about 27 bracelets in the first 3 days, then tried to bake a little, although it went rather poorly. She then watched all the original Disney movies in release order. I think she got to Mulan II before she decided enough was enough.

I was in the middle of teaching the times tables when there was a light knock on the door. I could see her cheeky smile through the small pane of glass and rushed to open it for her. Esme stumbles through the door, her moon boot and crutches making it difficult for her to fit through the rather narrow frame.

She pecks me on the lips and the room erupts in childish giggles. Romantic affection was something so foreign to 8 and 9 year olds.

“Es… what are you doing here?” I whisper as I pull a chair for her sit on.

“I got bored, and I miss yoouu.” She smiles up at me and I can’t help but smile back.

“Oh! And I brought gifts for the kiddos!” she holds out a paper bag and I peak inside.

My heart melts at the pile of hand-crafted bracelets, ranging in colour and design, that fill a significant proportion of the bag.

She spent the rest of the day surrounded by my class. Eventually I had to stop teaching because they were so in love with this angelic limping figure who brough them friendship bracelets. I don’t think Esme prepared for them all to assume she was every single one of their best friends.

~~~~~

It was nearly Christmas break when she first met my class for this year, and everyone knew who she was. For the first time, I didn’t have to introduce her or tell them what she does for them to get hyped.

“I WATCHED YOU IN THAT FOOTBALL THING” and other similar phrases are shouted many times when she enters the room.

When I looked at her it was hard not to smile. She was playing and talking with kids and giving them all little bracelets, just like she does every year.

As she was crouched in front of a small group who were excitedly asking her questions, Marley, a rather shy and quiet girl, walked up to Esme and lightly tapped her shoulder. She fiddles with her fingers and avoids looking at anyone as she waits.

“Excuse me Mrs Esme?” Esme is already smiling when she turns to look at Marley.

“Hey kiddo!”

“Um you’re my favourite player of all time. I watch all your games and wanna grow up and play just like you.” And Esme’s smile grew bigger, something I wasn’t sure was possible.

“That’s so cool! Can I give you a hug?” Marley nods and giggles into the embrace, and then they begin to talk about Marley’s interest in football and Esme’s work.

I’d been struggling to get her to talk for 2 months, and Es came in and got her to talk within minutes, but I can’t stop staring lovingly at the angel of a woman in front of me. There was a part of myself I saw in Marley. I’d struggled to be very open for a long time until I met Esme. She just had this gentle, caring nature that was hard to ignore.

-

Marley misses her the most between visits. They’d made a secret handshake and love to chat and giggle on the oval at lunch, kicking the ball around.

In between visits Esme and Marley both interchangeably would give me something to give the other; a bracelet or a packet of lollies or a flower they found randomly. It was so hard for me to not burst from how cute their friendship was.

It had changed Es as well. Obviously, she has always been welcoming and warm-hearted but she’d become more confident about her play and sometimes I would catch her bragging to her teammates.

“I’m Marley’s favourite player!” it took them a while to realise who Marley was, but they found it adorable.

-

We’re in our last week for the school year, just in time for Esme to make one more surprise appearance before she has leave for camp for the France Olympics. I’d told the kids she wasn’t sure if she would have time to make it between finishing up the season and preparing for the Olympics, but that didn’t stop them from begging me to bring her in.

It’s the last day, everyone already buzzing for their long holiday, and admittedly from the lollies I gave them. I always try to make the last day super fun, activities and music and a surprise guest.

By midday I’d already had to apologise that Esme couldn’t make it. 17 times and counting.

And by 1, there was a knock on the door. A knock the kids were all too familiar with, and Esme rushes into the room, kids swarming her from all angles.

“Hey kiddos!”

“Hey pretty lady” she turns to me and kisses me quickly. Gags and loud ‘ewww!’s echo out.

Marley waits patiently with a small bag in her hand, still considerably shy. Esme wastes no time in getting to the young girl, with a similar bag in hand.

“Hey Mar! I got you a little something.” Esme hands the bag over, and everyone watches carefully as she pulls out whatever lays inside.

I see the familiar light blue peak out, and recognise the jersey design I sport most weekends. The present is clear when Marley starts jumping up and down in excitement.

“It’s one of my spares so don’t tell Gareth, ok? I got all the girls to sign it.” Marley is wrapped around Esme before she can finish the sentence.

“Thank you!” she scrambles to put her bag in Esme’s hands before tugging the shirt over her head.

I nearly scream when I see Esme pull out a black and purple jersey, colours I know from all the pictures Marley shows me of her games, usually with a trophy in her hands. Her last name and the number 14 adorn the back with a tiny ‘Marley’ in black sharpie on the ‘1’.

“Oh my god Marley this is so cool! I’m going to keep this forever. In a few years time I’m going to see you playing for England and know I got the first ever Marley jersey and signature. And of course you’ll play for Manchester City yeah?” the little girl eagerly nods her head.

-

The day goes on and the kids go home for the last time. Esme leaves after an hour of helping me pack up the classroom, to start dinner and I don’t finish until 5:30.

By the time I pull into the driveway, I’m exhausted, but satisfied with my work for the year.

I leave most of my gear in the car to unpack another day and walk to the door. I struggle to open it for a moment but when I do, I’m hit by the smell of my favourite meal cooking and the sound of Esme singing, albeit not well.

I drag my feet into the kitchen and wrap my arms around my wife, kissing her back as I just rest against her.

“Hello my love.”

“Hey sunshine.” I pause for a moment.

“You’re so good with kids.” She hums as she turns the stove off.

“And you helped Marley so much.”

“She’s a good kid, it’s hard not to like her.” I pull away and reach up to kiss her on the cheek before looking for the small gift bag.

“What are you doing?” Esme questions as she begins to plate to the food

“Well we have to measure Marley’s shirt for a frame so we can hang it up don’t we? I want to be able to boast to the world in like 8 years time about how I taught her and how we have her first ever signature.” I poke her in the side as I grab my plate.

“Well how about we do that tomorrow? I just want to cuddle with you tonight before we have to pack and get ready for camp.” I let out a loud groan.

“I can’t believe you’re taking me to France, and we’ll barely be able to do any of that gross romantic shit together.” Esme smiles down at me, regret floating behind her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Noo I’m so excited I just think they’re cruel for making players do their job or whatever.” I jokingly roll my eyes before I lean back into her on the couch, both our plates sat in our laps.

“I promise to take you to that restaurant on the top of the Eiffel Tower before we leave.” She kisses my forehead.

~~~~~

“This is light work for the defender, tapping the ball passed Courtney Nevin and chipping it passed the Australian goalkeeper! IT’S A GOAL FOR ENGLAND AND THEY FIND AN EQUALISER IN THE OLYMPIC FINALS!”

I cheer at the goal with the rest of the stadium, hugging the small girl next to me as she bounces in excitement.

“Did you see that mumma? She scored! Mar Mar scored!” Reese shouts over everyone else.

“I did! It was amazing, wasn’t it?”

When the game ends, I pick Reese up and we rush down to the pitch with the other family members, celebrating as we make our way. It takes us a few minutes to spot the players we’re looking for but when Reese points them out, I put her down and she runs toward them without a single thought.

“Congratulations!” I pull Esme into a kiss before turning to Marley. The 16-year-old smiled brightly at me before hugging me tightly.

“Your goal was fucking phenomenal Marley! They should make you a striker.”

“But then she wouldn’t be just like her favourite player” Esme buts in, our daughter falling asleep on her hip. We all laugh and continue to talk with the other girls and celebrate until we decide to head back to the hotel to put Reese to bed.

“I’m so proud of how far you’ve come you know?” I pull Marley into my side as we wait for the elevator.

“From ‘shy little 8 year old who refused to talk to her teacher’ to ‘number 14; defender and debut scorer for her country at the 2032 Olympics at 16 years old’.”

“And one of the youngest and best signings for Man City!” Esme chimes in

“Thank you for always believing in me.”

After we say goodnight to Marley and make sure Reese is definitely asleep, I climb into bed with Esme.

“You’re so amazing.” I stare at her. Sometimes I don’t understand how I was blessed with such a kind-hearted, gentle woman.

“I try.” We break out in giggles and I slap her lightly on the shoulder.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” we don’t say anything else.

She kisses me hard before I rest my head on her chest, her arm wrapping around me as we fall asleep. She’s my angel in disguise.

[shu-box-puns]

Leaning to put on an exopack

'You lose that mask, you’re unconscious in twenty seconds, you’re dead in four minutes.'

More of my Dad!Tsu'tey and Spider brain rot.

Right so when the school was still an active thing and before Sylwanin died, Tsu'tey attended with the other children. He was one of Grace's best students. Incredibly bright and eager to learn. Very competitive with Neytiri to see who could learn the most English words in the least amount of time.

Tsu'tey was not part of the group that set the bulldozer on fire. He wasn't even in school that day since his father had taken him and his brother out on a hunt for the day. By some dumb luck, he missed the entire situation.

The school got closed down. Sylwanin died of her wounds. And the Omaticaya learnt all they needed to about the Sky People.

But Tsu’tey wasn't done. He noticed that Grace's demon body often visited the school. She tidied the learning resources and swept the leaves.

He approached her on impulse one day, intending to chase her off but instead growing curious.

He demanded she teach him about the breathing masks the Sky People wore. How to disable them, how they worked. Anything he could use to his advantage should they turn their attention on HomeTree.

Grace had agreed easily enough. Tsu'tey assumed it was her love of teaching that convinced her, but he had a sneaking suspision she had simply had a soft spot for him.

She had turned to one of the cupboards facing the far wall, mercilessly untouched by bullet wounds, and began pulling out various exopacks for him to practice on.

If she was disturbed by his reasonings, she didn't show it as she cleared one of the tables and began setting the spare exopacks down. She turned away again, ducking down to drag out a human-sized silicone dummy for him to practise disarming. 

The exopacks turned out to be easy to break. All he had to do was break the glass front covering the face or slash the breathing tube that connected the face to the small pack that typically hung from a belt or was attached to a backpack.

He found them incredibly bothersome. 

"Very good." Grace complimented, and Tsu’tey returned his gaze to her. He recognised the challenge in her tone. Similar to how she used to goad him into pushing himself further during English lessons. His head tilted in silent question and the corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "Can you take them off without destroying them?"

He scoffed. Of course he could.

And then he attempted to do so and failed miserably.

Tsu'tey quickly discovered that the straps that secured the mask to the back of the skull were too small for his fingers and he often ended up tearing them clean off by accident. The valves were too fiddly and popped off easily. By the time he could confidently put on and take off the exopack from the human-sized mannequin Grace provided, she had a small mountain of packs in need of repairing. 

Carefully removing the mask from the mannequin was counter productive and far more time consuming than breaking it. He told her as such and she merely laughed.

In hindsight and years down the line, Tsu’tey thanked Grace with all he had for her challenge. He prayed to the Great Mother, praising her for putting those curious thoughts into his head and encouraging him to take those lessons from his late teacher. 

Every prayer of gratitude he'd ever learnt fell from his lips as he knelt curled over his vulnerable, sky person son. The limp boy lay unconscious in his arms, completely shielded from the forest within Tsu'tey's protective embrace.

At the hunter's feet sat Spider's old exopack, the glass front smashed in and the cables in disarray after he'd hit the ground hard and collided with a rock concealed by moss. By some miracle, Tsu'tey had remembered to strap a spare to his belt earlier that morning.

It had happened so fast. Terrifyingly fast.

By nature, Spider had always been clumsy. So Tsu'tey had assumed this fall was like all the others. With a roll of his eyes, he'd hooked his arms under Spider's armpits and hauled him to his feet. He hadn't stood when Tsu'tey had gone to set him back down.

The hunter's ears flickered uncertainly at the strange wheezing sound the boy was making. He realised that the mask was no longer hissing in time with every breath. Time had slowed as Tsu'tey glanced to the moss cloaked rock and recognised the shape and shine of broken glass. His blood had run cold and Spider stopped making that awful noise.

Somehow that was far worse than his son struggling to breath.

Instinct had had Tsu'tey scooping his son up into his arms. He spun him round and Spider had gone limp in his grasp. His lips turning blue and his eyes unseeing. He was still breathing. But each breath was shallow. Unfufilling.

Muscle memory had Tsu’tey scrambling for the exopack at his belt. His eyes were narrowed in concentration despite the sickeningly fast pounding of his heart. Those hours spent crouched over the silicon mannequin came in handy as he managed to slip the straps over his boy's face and turn on the air flow. His large fingers fiddled frantically with the buttons, eyes flicking all over Spider's face as the mask audibly suctioned on.

Spider did not wake. But the blue tint to his face had immediately subsided as Earth air flooded his system; filling his suffocating lungs. The seizing of his chest ceased and he finally stopped twitching. He looked like he'd fallen asleep again.

Tsu’tey could've wept with relief as he clutched Spider to his chest; fingers spread between his shoulder blades to support his back where he could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his hand. His head was cradled against his neck, where the rhythmic inhale and click of the exopack further calmed Tsu'tey's nerves.

He would live, he knew.

After years of war, he knew first hand what a dying human sounded like. How their body seized from the lack of breathable air, how they went deathly still, eyes unseeing. 

In contrast, Spider was peaceful. Cuddling into his warmth and practically melting under his touch.

He’s been fast enough, he reassured himself. 

And for now, that was enough.

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

the pages are turning~

a months old pic of my desk

29th august 2024

day 4/50 - productivity challenge

🕒 6:00 a.m.

sleep deprivation is hitting. eating leftovers and coffee for breakfast.

checked notifs

actually ate some goddamn breakfast

not me realizing that i barely eat 2 meals every school day..

revised psychology: ch-1: what is psychology

here's a (self) reminder to actually go study instead of procrastinating 30 mins by watching study motivation videos.

also i recommend listening to non-lyrical music while studying. i personally listen to classical piano music. this is what i was listening to today morning.

showered

morning skincare

extended duolingo streak

aaand off to school. thought i would be late but honestly i've been reaching at the correct time all these days. if i leave my house by 8:05 then i'm good.

at school i first had physics and then 2 continuous chemistry classes (the teacher is good but her classes are so draining ugh).

completed physics classwork (the stuff i missed when i was absent on tuesday)

did the OCEAN test in psychology class! idk why but i love personality tests. i'll discuss my results with my teacher tmr hopefully but what i gathered is that i'm an ambivert leaning to introversion and ok emotional regulation & stability. my other classmate was very much an extrovert with higher tendency to take others' words to heart. we bunked the last 2 english classes together in the library lol. also want to say that i'm so ashamed for having formed an image in my mind of her, without really knowing her that well. i cruelly judged her prematurely and though we didn't really talk about our lives and stuff, we did get closer (maybe even friends?) today and i regret my judgments. ik i would be crushed if someone thought up an image of me in their head like that and i try not to do the same but sometimes i make mistakes. i'm trying to be more aware of that.

studied psychology ch-6: human memory (in the library when i skipped english)

lightly rained the entire trip home and got much louder as i ate a hearty lunch 😋

started a word doc for biology investigatory project

started a word doc for chemistry investigatory project

me and my bestfriend have been much more honest with our feelings recently. the saying "distance makes the heart grow fonder" was actually made for us. she's in a new college all popular with new pretty friends and boys probably crushing on her and she says i'm her favourite person. i'm at a new school slowly making new friends and she's my favourite person. i told her i love her. she deserves to know that. and i meant it totally platonically and that doesn't make it any less. if anyone ever asks, "who's your first love?" i'll say her name. it'll always be her.

practiced playing keyboard 🎹

read newspaper 📰 (some of those cases make me feel sick)

post for studyblr weekly prompt

dinner. yum. noodles and cake.

made notes psychology ch-1: what is psychology?

night skincare

🕒 nope! pulled an all-nighter.. yes i have school tmr 😃 listen i do not recommend doing this shit at all. why did i do it you may ask? i don't really have any crushing deadlines as such, but i've tricked my mind into thinking my own plans are deadlines. this week my sleep has been astronomically fucked up. the weekend will be a reset (i have school on saturday 😭) and i will prioritze sleep. i need to at least manage 6-7 hours everyday.

edit: actually i fell asleep around 2 a.m. and did no other studying..

🎧 i love you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams

her songs are actually just excerpts from my journal but minus the romance unfortunately like where's my gf ugh we're wasting time

a months old pic of my desk

[dhiatzs]

A rant about Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger is one of my favorite characters in Arcane. I like his teacher side, his scientist side, his nice and well-meaning side and especially the approach the show gives of his immortality. I also like how his character flaws come and bite him in season 1, leaving him without anything but the promise of worse and better happening in the rest of the story.

A lot of people in the fandom expect him to have a comeuppance because of all his wrongdoings, in season 2. I fully agree with that. I think I will grow bored of Heimerdinger if he doesn't get some character developement and some charges for what he's not been doing this whole time.

However, in some way, I can't help but feel a little skeptical about the way a lot of people in the fandom feel like they straight up hate him. I guess I'll gloss over the arguments. Warning though: I've seen the show only a couple of times, and I am not the most invested in it, so some of my points might not be correct or might miss something. I've also not read many posts about Arcane, and my English is not the best since I'm not a native English speaker. All of these are just some thoughts I have and I try to translate the best I can.

About Ekko being way too nice to Heimerdinger even though he is a councelor and responsible for Zaun's state:

well, that's a mixed bag. On one hand, yes, I think this scene quickly gloss over some coldness and hostility Ekko could have felt towards Heimerdinger. If Ekko acts angry toward Caitlyn in the same episode, why was he so neutral with someone who is in a higher position in the hierarchy? It doesn't make sense, and to be fair I'm not defending that it was not treated in the way I imagined would be the most accurate for Ekko's character.

But at the same time, if you take a look at the whole context, I kinda see where it's coming from.

a/ Right before Ekko is found by Heimerdinger, Ekko had accepted the idea to negociate with the council. Only the fight with Jinx and Marcus' betrayal prevent Caitlyn, Vi and him from doing what they want; everything goes wrong, and it appears Ekko lost everything he tried to accomplish in the last hours. So… why would he consider bad news to meet a councelor, Heimerdinger especially ─ a scientist ─, who is willing to help? In this whole disaster, it is at least something he can take.

b/ Plus, when they meet, Ekko doesn't have a reason to think of the implication. He has to look for a solution, and he has the beginning of a solution with Heimerdinger, a person he didn't have a chance to meet some time ago. So he takes it.

c/ Also, Ekko doesn't have the context a viewer has. Yes, he knows what state Zaun is in, yes the enforcers are his enemies, but if you look at his actions in the course of the season… Ekko doesn't fight against Piltover. He fights against Silco. Ekko saved the people Silco has hurt. Ekko himself says his people were lost "some" to the enforcers, "most" to Silco. He believes Silco to be responsible for Piltover's violence towards Zaun, because to Piltover, Zaun as a whole appears corrupted by Silco. Once again, Ekko doesn't have the big picture.

d/ Since Vi convinced Ekko that Caitlyn is sincere if misguided, and since he accepted from Caitlyn herself that the cycle of violence needs to stop and Piltover and Zaun need to find an agreement, accepting Heimerdinger is quite the logical next step. And sure, it means that Heimerdinger gets a privilege he didn't deserve by actively doing something good himself, but I believe it to be a good start to develop Heimerdinger. If Heimerdinger's ignorance was confronted at the moment he meets Ekko, the development would have been weak and unsatisfying, given the few number of episodes left in season 1 after that. Season 2 has way more time to develop what he did wrong and how he could fix what he did. Plus, and this is my last point with that…

e/ Narratively-wise, putting a confrontation there would have been not only useless, but just a free stomp on Heimerdinger with no possible payoff. Think about it: Heimerdinger has been nothing but powerless during the course of the whole first season. His authority has been direspected times and times again, he's been excluded from the council's plans and agreements, until ultimately being pushed out of the council. Heimerdinger already lost. If there wasn't some positivity with him and Ekko, the end of season 1 would have been depressing to watch; but they're a light of hope, in the end. Sure, it isn't a duo we expected to see, but Arcane doesn't play fair with characters, it just shows the logical course of actions of broken people misunderstanding each other. And I think it's doing a pretty good job at it.

About Heimerdinger not doing anything in two hundred years to realize Zaun's situation and help it:

yes, actually. I agree with this argument, Heimerdinger had numerous occasions to see what was going on, and he didn't take any of them. But where I don't agree with most of the fandom is that this is a part of the character I actually like (given we like the flaws of our favorite characters just as much as their qualities): his heavy, heavy blindspot about Zaun. I think this is the reason why I think Heimerdinger isn't a good person; but to me, it isn't a proof of him being a bad person. It is just the proof of him being extremely coherent.

Also, just like with how Ekko reacts to Heimerdinger, there are so many contextual evidences that makes it make sense.

a/ I feel like there's some kind of math being made in the fandom where Heimerdinger equals Piltover. Which symbolicaly makes a lot of sense: Heimerdinger is this brilliant scientist whose renown you hear about times and times again. Heimerdinger founded Piltover, and the city echoes the character: immortal, wealthy, clean on himself, popular. The relation between Zaun and Piltover echoes the way we know Heimerdinger interacts with people: because of his immortality, the ones who surround him decay, and he outlives them; and he doesn't empathize with them, just like Piltover doesn't empathize with Zaun.

But as a whole, I think Piltover is also Heimerdinger's safety bubble. We know Heimerdinger has seen awful things in his past, and created Piltover firstly to escape the warmongering of mages. Under his watch, progress is made slow and careful. Under his watch, the city is some kind of wealthy peaceful place, where when something bad happens ─ the most minor thing, truly; say, a bunch of teenagers from the Undercity stealing from an Academy student ─ someone must pay. Heimerdinger is seen enjoying celebrations, concert, wonders of this kind. Heimerdinger behaves like a child in a world where he made sure any disturbance is avoided for him. His fluffy cute design and his happy-go-lucky nature are just further proof of this. We could argue that all of this is a logical reason on its own why Heimerdinger doesn't try and help Zaun: he cares about Piltover, and Piltover first. None of these things are a bad thing in themselves, but it becomes bad when you realize everything that flows from it.

b/ To support this point, one interesting thing about Heimerdinger is his ego. He sees himself as an authority figure, someone reliable ─ a teacher, even! He is wise, he is old, he keep things stable. Piltover is a city shining with pride and privilege (no pun intended). None of this leaves a door open to change. Which is pretty ironic, right? Because science should be about change, but Heimerdinger isn't. Because of his immortality, he must be a moral backbone, he must not lose his way. And since what he's been has been serving Piltover for two hundred years now, you can't make him change his mind. He's a stubborn creature, but truly, is there any character who can fully get where he is coming from? I find this awfully interesting that what he lacks is a person in the same position as him. Because the only person he can respect in this context is himself, even though it leads to permanent self-satisfaction. A permanent feeling of thinking you know better, when you actually… don't. But who could prove that?

c/ I think Piltover's council has to be mentioned. The council is made of seven people and Heimerdinger is only one of these people. This oligarchy has been present for generations; the principle allows every case presented to be examined through several nuances, which leads to debates and votes. Its core definition prevents tyrannical decisions. Sure, corruption within can lead to this instance being actually a disguised despotism… the irony is that corruption indeed runs through the council, but Heimerdinger isn't a part of it and isn't aware of it. And you can guess that since Heimerdinger is the founder of Piltover and is a part of said council, it means that he accepted the suggestion of an oligarchy. The people in the council have interests in mind that aren't purely about science: economy, politics, business… all logical angles to use to take care of a city whose importance is known across the world. Heimerdinger is described as having his only experience be science. So Zaun's situation hasn't been fixed by Heimerdinger, sure… but not by the council either. Their failure to consider Zaun's situation is even discussed in episode 4; Caitlyn's mother even argues that the Undercity can't be controlled. Plus, Marcus hide a lot of crucial information from the council, because he has to accept Silco's conditions in order not to compromise himself. The council thinks that Zaun's situation is being handled thanks to the enforcers.

And at the same time, there is such a complacency in the concept of a council made with privileged families. It is formed with elites, and this elites have an elitist view about politics, which would be better considered with a sociological approach. But this is simply the extension of Heimerdinger's wish to keep everything safe and sanitized for himself and the city. A logical outcome, which actually makes everything Heimerdinger's fault, but at the same time, which makes it logical he doesn't realize it.

This kind of is the whole point of Heimerdinger's character, isn't it…? Everything he does is flawed because he fails to see past his fears.

To conclude this (already too long) post, one thing I haven't mentioned is that I think what leads people to dislike Heimerdinger as a whole is ambiguity. The fact that we don't know yet if the writers are aware that Heimerdinger isn't a perfect person; the fact that he has such a nice presentation which distract people from the fact he's not reliable nor doing as well as you could think. The fact that all the ways in which he means well are not enough to repair what he has failed to accomplish. The fact that he is presented as a solution while being one of the cores of the problem at the same time. Believe me, like I said, I want him to get a comeuppance. But I think his flaws are as likeable as the web of flaws linking every character of this show to the others.

[lz-didyounotice]

Simplement Humain [Part 2]

Those gifs don't belong to me.

Heyyy! So here comes the second part of "Simplement Humain". Hope you enjoy!

-------------------------

Part 1 , Part 2

-------------------------

Warnings : English is not my first language. Lost of Angst. Bonus fluff. Martha is not in love with the Doctor, Prehestablished relationship.

Translation : "Simplement humain" : Merely human

-------------------------

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your partners, and put on a waltz.”

As the music filled the air, you found yourself swept away in the graceful movements, relishing the opportunity to dance with him once more. His skill on the dance floor was undeniable, and as you twirled around the room, your eyes remained locked on each other, knowing that this was a bittersweet farewell.

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer," you remarked, unable to suppress a smile.

He chuckled softly, his eyes reflecting a hint of amusement. “I didn’t know I could dance either” 

"Is there anything you're not good at, Mister?" You teased, already knowing the answer.

"I think that question could go both ways," He replied with a playful glint in his eye, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. His smile only widened at your adorable reaction, eliciting a laugh from you as your nose scrunched up in the most endearing way.

After a few dances, the two of you settled at a table, your companion graciously offering to fetch some drinks. As you scanned the room, your gaze fell upon Martha making her way through the crowd. Catching her eye, you silently beckoned her over, gesturing for her to take John's seat for a moment.

"Did you find it?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I searched everywhere, but I couldn't find it. Not even in the T-Closet. It's like it's disappeared," Martha replied, her breath quickening with worry. "I swear I saw it this morning."

Squeezing her hand reassuringly, you tried to calm her nerves. “Okay, hey, Look at me… We're gonna be alright. Have you checked for the school yet?”

“No…” Martha admitted, her fingers tightening around yours.. “Then it might be there.” You suggested, brushing your thumb over her hand. ”I know this is stressful, these things are after us, but we need to keep calm otherwise we won't be able to help the Doctor get back from this.”

As Martha nodded, attempting to steady herself, you felt the weight of John's gaze upon you. Sensing that he needed to know, you excused yourself and approached him, a million questions swirling in his eyes.

"You're not really going abroad, are you?" he asked in a hushed tone. "If you need help, I can try to land a hand-."

“That’s the problem… You can’t. At least not right now, not as John Smith.“ You explained, taking his hands in yours, trying to keep calm.  “Then as who?”

“The Doctor-” The sound of music was abruptly drowned out by screams, and you felt John stiffen beside you as the intruders made their presence known, the once festive atmosphere turning tense.

Seeing the guns in their hands, you could feel yourself grow with anger. One of the guests, getting obliterated by one of those aliens for simply asking what was going on, causing even more commotion. 

“We asked for silence!” Screamed the tallest “Now then, we have a few questions for Mister Smith.” A sinister smile drew on his lips.

Coming from behind one of the tables, a small girl, holding out a red balloon started to walk up to this strange family. “No, better than that…- the teacher, he’s the doctor, I heard them talking ”

Greeting your teeth, you took the opportunity to get closer to Martha.

The boy’s booming voice getting you even more railed up “You took human form”

“Of course, I’m human, as was born human, just as you Baines, and Jenny, and you Mr. Clark, What is going on, this is madness ?!” John was panicking. He had no time to process anything, being accused of being something he didn’t even know existed. 

Seeing that John wasn’t about to listen to them, You and Martha had been taken hostage by two of the aliens. They needed him to change back, and they thought the best way for it to happen was for his companions to get threatened. 

For a short instant, you felt the grip around you lessen, the aliens holding you seemingly having gotten distracted by something across the room. This gave you enough time to change roles with the woman, her gun was now in your possession, you were ready for anything to happen.

"Don't move! Let Martha go, or I'll shoot!" you declared, your eyes fixed on the ringleader.

Testing your patience, ‘Baines’ got a step closer. “You wouldn’t dare-” As he spoke, you shot the roof. If you had to kill them to get her free, you wouldn’t hesitate. “No, you shut up!”

“I’m gonna shoot you down!” Threatened the boy holding out his gun in your direction.

“Oh yeah? Are you sure you wanna do that?” Mentioning the hostage still shielding you.

“Would you really pull the trigger?” Your breath had quickened. To him, the look you were bearing smelling like fear to him. “You look too scared”.

“ I. am. Not. Scared. “ Fire, slowly showing from behind your eyes. ”I’m Angry and ready to do anything it will take to get my crew safe. Wanna risk it?” Your voice held venom, hatred for what stood before you. But your determination seemed too strong to be a simple bluff. Taking it upon himself, ‘Baines’ lowered his gun.  

Trying your best to hold your rage, you ordered John to take everyone out of the hall and get them to safety. Raising your voice, you almost sounded scarier than the man who once pointed his gun at you. “I said get out!”

“(Y/N) What about you?!”

“Get Martha to safety! I’m taking care of this!”

-------------------------

Flighting was the only way out, as much as John wanted to make sure none of the boys had stayed inside, he and Martha had no choice but to retreat. Running was the easiest part, finding shelter was harder.

As they came around the school, they found refuge behind a small bush. Hearing the voice of one of the members of the family, John thought he was dreaming when he saw the magnificent blue box they had in their possession. As he watched it closer, the memory of the sound of her engine slowly crept up his back. 

Beside him, Martha had tried to hold tight, but as she saw the way he looked at the time machine, she finally let go of the secrets and blurted out to him what was really happening. Of course, the man wouldn’t listen, as much as he would have wanted to believe it, he just couldn’t assume everything he once knew was just made-up lies. Frustration getting the better of him, he got up and started running once again. 

As the duo reached the hill, a small (Y/H)-haired figure could be seen making large movements. Encouraging them to come closer.

“Martha! In here!” Recognizing the voice immediately, the girl took John's arm and sprinted toward what seemed to be a small cottage. Once close enough, she dropped his hand, crashing into your arms as a small laugh escaped her. Bringing your arms around her, you couldn’t help but be relieved to see her.

“Thank god you're okay! I thought we lost you-” Let out the girl while squeezing you a bit more. “You’re gonna need a lot more than this to get rid of me sweetheart.” You said while rubbing her back. “As much as I like your hugs, we need you two safe.” Indicating her inside, your eyes trailed behind her, revealing a very distraught John. As much as you would have liked to hug the hell out of him, you hurried him inside. “No time for questions.”  

-------------------------

Once everyone was safe, you closed the door. “(Y/N) I’m so sorry I couldn’t find the watch- I don’t know how, it just disappeared, I searched everywhere and couldn’t find it.-” Crossing her arms across her chest, the girl looked at you with pleading eyes.

Getting more frustrated as time passed on, John started to lose it. “If you're the doctor's companions, don’t you help ?” He started to inquire from the end of the table. “What exactly do you do for him? Why does he need you ?” 

Taking his hand in yours, drawing small patterns on them with your thumb. You looked at him, eyes full of dread. “Because he’s lonely...” As it sunk in, John's voice started to break, shattering your heart at the same time. “And that’s what you want me to become?”

Before anything more could be said, a knock was heard on the door. A little bit tense, Martha started to walk toward it. 

“What if it’s them ?” Inquired the teacher Worried of what could be outside.

“I don't think scarecrows knock.” Hand on the doorknob, the girl finally opened the door, falling face to face with one of the school boys.

“I brought you this,” Reaching into his pocket, the ginger-headed boy took out a watch. The very watch the Doctor had told them to protect.

-------------------------

"Hold it," Martha insisted, her tone pleading.

"I won't," John replied stubbornly , his determination unwavering.

“Please, just hold it.” You urged, sensing his reluctance growing.

Timmy, sensing the tension, decided to intervene. ”It told me to find you. It wants to be held.” 

Encouraged by the young boy's words, you couldn't help but wonder why he had held onto the watch for so long. "You've had this watch all this time? Why didn't you return it?"

"Because it was waiting. And because I was so scared of the Doctor," Timmy confessed, his eyes betraying his fear.

"Why?" You pressed, lifting a brow in curiosity.

“Because I've seen him. He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun.” Timmy explained, his voice tinged with awe.

John, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the description, interjected, "Stop it."

“He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe.” Timmy continued, his confidence growing with each word.

“Stop it! I said stop it.” John's voice broke with desperation, unable to bear the weight of Timmy's words.

“And he's wonderful.” Timmy concluded, his proclamation hanging in the air.

Visibly shaken by the description, John was getting even more scared by what he once was. But as he inquired himself with more and more questions, the earth started to rumble beneath their feet, the loud sound of crashing coming from right outside the window creeping everyone up.

“What the hell?” Martha exclaimed, her panic rising as the commotion grew louder. 

“They're destroying the village…” You let out, watching the fireballs crashing by the window.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, John reached for the watch, his fingers tracing its intricate design. A faint whisper seemed to beckon him closer, urging him to open it.

“Can you hear it?” inquired Latimer

Closer

He could feel it, and as much as he wanted to resist its call, the more he got it closer, the more he understood it. “I think he's asleep. Waiting to awaken.”

Little man.

Now knowing he wasn’t the only one hearing it, Latimer wanted to ask. “Why did he speak to me?” 

“Oh, low-level telepathic field. You were born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing.-” You felt your heart falter. “Is that how he talks?” John's voice quavered with uncertainty, his newfound knowledge unsettling him.

“That's him. All you have to do is open it and he's back.” Martha encouraged, her voice laced with urgency.

Realizing the implications of the watch's power, John couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over him. “You knew this all along and yet you watched while Nurse Noble and I-”

Cutting through the tension, you interjected. “She didn’t need to watch out for this.” 

“Falling in love? That didn't even occur to him?” John's voice wavered with self-doubt, his insecurities bubbling to the surface.

“No” You affirmed, your tone firm and resolute.

“It was always going to end, though! The Doctor said the Family's got a limited lifespan, and that's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die. Like mayflies, he said.” As much as Martha was trying to reassure him, the look

“So your job was to execute me.-” 

Not wanting him to lament on himself any longer, Martha pressed him on the matter “We don’t have enough time, people are dying out there. They need him and we need him. Because you've got no idea of what he's like. I've only just met him. It wasn't even that long ago and yet he is one of the greatest people I ever met. He is everything to me. He is one of my best friends, and I don’t want to lose him!” 

One of the fireballs hitting closer to the cottage, only had the poor Timmy getting more agitated “It's getting closer.”

Rushing for the door, John seemed determined to put an end to it. "I should have thought of it before. I can give them this. Just the watch. Then they can leave, and I can stay as I am," John proposed, his voice tinged with resignation.

But you couldn't bear the thought of losing him, your fear outweighing any other consideration. "You can't do that! I'll never let you do it!" you declared, your determination shining through.

“If they get what they want, then, then-” 

“Then it will all end in destruction! Those creatures would live forever to breed and conquer, for war across the stars for every child. If you give it to them there will be nothing left! Nothing to look forward to, no hope left.” You had tried to stay calm, but as much as you wanted to hide it you were as scared as John. 

“Martha, Timothy, would you leave us alone, please?”

-------------------------

As the two left the room, the imminence of the disaster seemed to finally catch up to you. Opening your arms, you let him crash into you, a sobbing mess trying to hold on to everything he thought he had left. His knuckles turned white from clutching so hard.

Sitting down, you cradled him against your chest, running your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. Your other hand traced gentle circles on his back.

“I know this sounds scary.” You murmured softly. “Changing for the sake of the universe. Wouldn’t that be one of the most horrible decisions to make.”Tenderly, you reached for his face, urging him to meet your gaze. “Yet here you are.”

“I wish I could do it for you, trust me.” You confessed, feeling a pang of sorrow. Witnessing someone you cared for endure such turmoil was a heavy burden to bear. ”But right now, I need you to open this watch.”

“If it can reassure you, I once had to make a similar choice.” It was like you were back in your room, Dona trying to get you back from yet another vision. This man who was now standing before you, the last thing you had seen of it. Pondering who he could be.

“And what did you choose?” Asked John. 

“I choose the Doctor.” 

“Who is he to you?”

“Where can I even begin?” You chuckled softly, overwhelmed by the depth of your feelings.

“Is he a good man?”

“He is… To me he is.” You affirmed, your voice filled with undying love. “ The greatest man that ever was and ever will be. I made a promise to him and I’ll be dead before I think of breaking it. For all I know I could destroy the whole universe if any harm came his way.” Tenderly, you cupped his cheek, drawing him closer. 

“And that man is you, John.” you whispered, your foreheads touching as you held him.

John feared that the other him would feel a different way, of what would happen if he was to never love you back. “But… What if he doesn’t love you the same way?” 

“Oh my love, Just by looking at you, I know he does.” You assured him, your words brimming with sincerity.

As John examined the watch in his hands, you took hold of them, feeling a warm light envelop you both as memories flooded your minds.

‘The bell of the church rang as you got closer to the groom, kissing under the gaze of all the guests, cheering on as the both of you got lost in one another. Ring shining in broad daylight, finally united for the rest of your life.’

‘Sitting onto a bed, holding your firstborn baby, covered in a soft blanket as you and John looked at her with immense happiness. Ringed Finger trapped in her deadly grip. “She is beautiful” Tears of happiness slowly falling on his cheeks.’

‘You both, taking a walk in the woods downtown, playing with your kids in the rain. You, smiling at your husband with all the love you could muster, holding the hand of your youngest daughter as you helped her get over a small puddle.’

‘And as you laid beside him in bed, old and gray, you felt your eyes getting heavier as time went by.

“They're all safe, aren't they? The children, the grandchildren. Everyone's safe?”

“Everyone's safe, and they all send their love, John.” You softly mustered feeling his grip on your hand getting weaker.

“Well, it's time. Thank you”’

And as you returned to the present, a tear trickled down your cheek. "Did you see?"

“A timelord, could never have a life like that…” You trailed off, your heart heavy with the realization.

“And yet I could…-” John mused, his gaze fixed on the watch between his hands.

“What are you going to do then ?”

-------------------------

Waiting by the TARDIS, a bittersweet feeling washed over you as you prepared to bid farewell to this extraordinary adventure. All the people you had met, all the experiences you had shared, would soon be nothing but memories.

When the Doctor finally appeared, a smile spread across your face. His stern expression softened into a grin as he drew closer. Martha couldn’t contain her excitement and rushed forward to embrace him, laughter filling the air as relief washed over them both.

With Martha retreating into the TARDIS, you were left alone with the Doctor. A smile played at the corners of your lips as you approached him. You could already decipher this big and goofy grin you had missed so dearly.

“Miss me?” He teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Well-” You began, a playful retort on your lips, his face turning into a small frown “Of course I missed you, Darling.” Taking a few steps forward, you adjusted his coat, your instinct telling you to grab him by his tie and kiss him.

And as you did, the worries you had felt for the past two months flew away, knowing your man was safely back in your arms.

-------------------------

Bonus : 

Back inside the TARDIS, you admired the beautiful console before you, reveling in the familiar hum of the time machine. Beside you, the Doctor started the engines, his expression distant as he lost himself in thought.

Putting you out of your daze, the Doctor had found the courage to voice his doubts. “The things you said…” Had he started “ ‘About the whole, ‘I would destroy the world for ‘him’ thing...Did you really mean it…?”

Your cheeks flushed at the question, surprised by his uncertainty. “Do you think I would lie to you about such a thing?” Looking him right in the eyes, you couldn’t even think of a day when you hadn’t loved him to such an extent. “Why are you asking?” 

“I- I don’t know…” The Doctor admitted, his eyes betraying his vulnerability.  ”Since you have seen the life you could have with John, I thought you wouldn’t want to travel with me anymore.” His voice faltered with uncertainty. “Come here love…” Opening up your arms, you let him take his time to make his way up to you. 

Tightly holding him, he hid away in the crook of your neck, you gently rubbing his back, kissing his head from time to time. “As fantastic as this life could have been, it wasn’t a life for me. Seeing you grow old by my side, knowing it would be the only life I could have shared with you. It would have driven me insane.” 

“I don’t want to lose you…” The Doctor confessed, his voice muffled against your neck.

“You won’t.” You assured him, holding him even tighter against your heart.

[jewishbarbies]

https://www.tumblr.com/jewishbarbies/760054305305788416?source=share

growing up, the one thing my English and history teachers always said to us was to NEVER use Wikipedia as a source for our essays and projects. In fact, all of my teachers would say that, but history and English were the ones with the most essays and large pieces of writing and we would have to source all of our information and it was literally a rule in our classes that Wikipedia was not to be used. They said it was because anyone can edit Wikipedia, but I’ve never really grasped that until now.

Before the 7th of Oct, you could find relatively unbiased information about Jewish history on there. But now after the 7th of October, I’m seeing literal historical events such as massacres being considered “acts of rebellion against Zionists” on fucking Wikipedia.

And it’s confusing for people like me, who aren’t Jewish or Israeli, but are genuinely trying to understand Jewish history and Israeli history and how modern Israel came to be in the place it is today, but we’re faced with such blatantly biased information, and if you call it out, you’re told you’re “pro genocide”.

Like I’m not looking for an Israel dick sucking page, but I’m just genuinely trying to learn about the history of this shit from a relatively unbiased perspective. Anyways, everything after 7th of October really showed me the importance of physical written media and archives because even history can be edited online to make you look like the most cartoonish villains ever lol.

Physical media like newspapers, magazines, CDs, DVDs, tapes, etc>>>>>>>

we’ve been dealing with nazis editing jewish pages and fucking with wwii pages to be nazi sympathetic for a long time now, so the concept of what they’re doing at least isn’t new, but this feels like such an escalation. wikipedia NEEDS much more heavy moderation and further limit who can edit and create pages. idk how they’ve lasted as some kind of amazing info source for this long while having almost NO protections against misinformation and deliberate tampering.

[takaraphoenix]

This is going to be a deeply personal post that I want to share because I hope it can also be somewhat inspirational and motivational for others.

I started a new job a month ago and I deeply love it. I mean, genuinely love it. Love the place, the people, the work. I'm happy going to work and I find joy in what I do and time passes startlingly fast at work because I'm enjoying it. Plus, I make good enough money (sure, it could always be more, but it's already more than my last job which is great).

I honestly didn't think that was a thing. Growing up, I always thought that work is that thing you force yourself through for the sake of money. The requirement. I thought it was crazy when people claimed they liked their work. But damn, I love my work.

When I finished high school, I had no idea what I wanted to do. Fourteen years ago. And it's been a longwided and bumpy journey, but it brought me to a place where I'm happy and where I can see myself working for the next thirty years.

Not knowing where you want to go, or how you could get there, is incredibly, overwhelmingly frustrating. But sometimes, you just have to keep going and figure it out along the way.

(The more long-winded journey under the cut.)

I had no idea what I wanted to do after high school, partially because my school never really prepared us for what comes after.

Our local university is large, and it intimidated me beyond belief when I was eighteen, there was just no way I could go there.

But there was a small, private art school around where I lived and everyone always kept saying turn your passion into your profession, right? So sure, why not. Let's go to art school.

Four years later, I had a Bachelor's degree in art and had also fully lost my passion for drawing. It had become a chore. So I knew that... that wouldn't work out for me. I needed to find something different.

I've always admired the teachers who could inspire others and make you feel welcome in their classes and I was pretty good at teaching others, so I figured, maybe I could become a teacher?

I first signed up for English and Philosophy (with the goal of teaching ethics). I made friends in the first semester in both classes, but I had to switch out of English after one semester - mostly because the teachers were actually insane. They prided themselves in failing at least 10% of first semesters and made the beginning unnecessarily hard and no... fun. I think learning should be fun.

So I switched from English to German and, ultimately, after five years, got my Bachelor's degree in German philology and Philosophy. During the high-time of Covid. My last two semesters were exclusively spent in remote zoom classes.

The thought of becoming a teacher - of being in a room with thirty students for ninety minutes, before class ends and the next thirty students file in for the next ninety minutes, in an endless circle of hell - absolutely terrified me. Heck, the thought of going back to classes to get my Master's degree to actually become a teacher was already mortifying.

So, once again, I stood there, without a plan, but with a useless BA.

I didn't know what I wanted to do, to be quite frank. I was running out of motivation to find something new, because it started to feel like I was truly just failing one thing after the other. I was 29 and had absolutely nothing to show but two Bachelor's degrees.

I became a temp, after a year of unemployment, working in an office in an insurance company. And I liked it alright. The work more or less, but the feeling. Oh, the feeling of working in a small team in an office absolutely delighted me!

I lost that job at the end of last year and went back to being unemployed for half a year. Until a friend of mine, who was working at our alma mater as a secretary, told me about how happy she was working for our university and how she had also started there because she had no prior work experience and none of the required qualifications. She also told me that our university has its own job hunting website and that they never put their job listings onto foreign sites.

I went looking the same day, applied to a job that I got a job interview for but that didn't entirely fit for me. A week later, I applied to another one - and it fit like a glove. I got a job interview before the application phase even ended, I was invited to spend a day observing the work and was supposed to give a yes/no on whether I want to move forward with the process the next day, which I did. All I expected in return was a thank you and to be told when I might hear back to them after they saw other applicants. Instead, I got the job that very day.

During every single step, I felt like I was failing. After my first Bachelor, that seemed useless. After giving up on getting my Master and having yet another useless Bachelor. When I lost the temp job.

But every single step in my journey was... necessary, to get me to where I am right now.

Because I wasn't ready for our big university when I was 18, I needed the small, private university that eased me into college life to have the courage to apply to our city's big university.

And the friend who told me about the job website? I met her in my one semester of English. Yes, even years later, even though we were only together in one class during that first semester, we are still friends. And if I hadn't attempted my second degree - if I hadn't started out with and failed out of English - I wouldn't have met her.

If I hadn't gone to this university, I wouldn't have been eager or able to find a job there.

And if I hadn't had the temp job, I wouldn't have discovered my passion for office work.

Who knows, maybe there is an alternate life where I get on the "right" track when I'm eighteen and end up happy too, but for the life I have now, things worked out well and they only did because of every single thing I had failed or changed out of.

Sometimes, you do need the failures to learn from them, to draw something from them that will help you find your way later.

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 17

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️ If you like it pls leave a like/comment/reblog it, if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful!

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

At night you stayed over at Joel's place, you chatted for a long time, you shared many other aspects of his past and for the first time he told you about his daughter too, you heard it from his voice how much it cost him and that he was only talking about it so that you wouldn't feel left out of his life, you appreciated it very much.

You slept together, you wake up hugging him, when you open your eyes, you need several minutes to figure out if everything that had happened was real or if it was just a dream, then you see Joel and you sit up in the middle of the bed. You yawn audibly and then watch him, it's a wonderful sight what he's offering you: his curly hair is a messy pile that you find yourself stroking in a slow gesture, his face is completely relaxed, his soft lips parted thus making you smile, he's wearing a dark t-shirt that, as he turned over in bed, lifted up exposing his tummy to your view and then your eyes fall on his morning erection covered by the boxers he is wearing.

You shouldn't, but you can't stop yourself from doing so. You move the elastic of the boxers, sliding them just far enough to release his already considerable arousal, he grumbles, curling his forehead.

His shaft lies on his belly, you lick your lips before starting to run a finger over it, it's so soft. It makes your mouth water. You take him gently in your hand laying a chaste kiss on his tip, while Joel mumbles again something unintelligible in his dream. You let your gaze wander from his face no longer as relaxed as before to his manhood, which you have taken to stroking in a very slow movement from its tip to his balls. He releases little moans as he curls his forehead more and more, while you feel his erection growing in your fist. You lower yourself onto it again and this time take it gently into your mouth, sucking it gently and savoring its pearl of precum.

You feel him spread his legs, so you look up at his face. He's awake and has his head lifted off the pillow, his lips wide open, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes focused on you, "I thought I was dreaming," he tells you in a heavy voice, you smile at him as you can considering you have his massive erection between your lips. You go back to concentrating on his shaft playing with it some more by moving your tongue around it and going up and down with your head, his moans let you know that he's enjoying what you're doing and, further confirming this, you join his hand in your hair helping you in your movements. He doesn't speed up your movement, but you realize on your own that he would like even more so you go just a little faster and in doing so his moans increase as his filthy words about how well you take him or how you are his wonderful fucking girl.

That dirty language of his, his focused expression, his moans and the attention you are giving to his dick turn you on, you are completely soaked and to alleviate at least a little of what you are feeling, you bring one of your hands down between your legs slipping first one finger then two into your folds and you start moaning at the attention you are now giving to yourself as well.

You feel completely lost in that boiling sea of sensation, fuck. . .

"Are ya giving yourself pleasure? Oh, fuuuck." he also moans, seeing you with one hand between your folds, as he occasionally squeezes a few strands of hair between his fingers "Jesus Christ . . . oh, fuck . . my naughty girl can take my cock so well." he curses moaning louder and louder, then all of a sudden he tries to pull you away from his cock "Baby, I'm going to come, stop," he tells you in a choked voice.

"I want you to come in my mouth," you tell him, immediately wrapping his manhood between your lips again, this combined with your words giving him the coup de grace. Streams of hot semen flood your mouth and throat as he rolls his eyes back and releases a long moan. You swallow his release savoring his strong taste and even that taste you can't help but like, you like everything about him.

You pull your lips away from his shaft as you reach your climax too after a few firm touches on your part. You are both breathless.

"The best awakening I've ever had," he comments after a while as he holds you close to him and you find yourself smiling sweetly at him "You were perfect, my love."

You kiss him tenderly as he slips one hand into your hair and strokes your arm then your side with the other absentmindedly, making your skin crawl.

"I'd like to make love to you," you confide, barely pulling away from his lips.

"I want it so much, too," he confides to you as well.

"My friends talk about it as something beautiful and painful at the same time, is it?" you ask him looking into his eyes.

"I can't tell you that you won't feel pain or even discomfort, but what I can assure you is that I will try to make you feel as little pain as possible, but some of it will be unavoidable." you nod "Are you afraid?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head, "I trust you, I know that whatever you do will not be to hurt me." and it's true, you know he could never hurt you, you trust him completely or you wouldn't be there.

"Can I take you a picture?" he asks you after a few minutes of silence, you frown with a small smile on your lips "You look beautiful right now," he adds and then turns his gaze to his nightstand and grabs his cell phone.

"No, honey, no, I look awful!" you protest by placing a hand on the cell phone lens while giggling. After some weak resistance on your part, Joel manages to take your picture even though it's a little blurry.

You bask a little longer in bed and then get up to eat breakfast together, you wear one of his t-shirts, a pair of his shorts and your white socks, you have a big smile on your face. You feel good, you sit on the stool and as you sip your favorite tea, you enjoy the sight of the wonderful man in front of you making his coffee, you are happy and you feel good.

Afterwards, you sit in the living room where he plays and sings you a Pearl Jam song, he plays it and sings it so softly and slowly that at the end you have tears in your eyes and you throw your arms around his neck holding him tightly to you, "Love..." you whisper feeling your eyes pinch "It's wonderful, you'd have been a great singer." you tell him sitting on his lap encircling his neck with your arms and kissing him softly "Would you like to learn it?" he asks, you nod "Sure," you reply "but first" you add leaning towards the cabinet behind him "a picture of you with the guitar" you add immediately opening the camera of your cell phone and taking a picture.

Joel looks great, his eyes are bright, his guitar still clutched in his lap and his hair ruffled, shortly after you take a selfie, you have the guitar in one hand, with the other you hold the phone and Joel has his head resting on your shoulder.

He gently kisses your shoulder, then you let go of the phone and focus on the music.

There is a continuous exchange of kisses, touches, smiles and complicit glances. You look like a couple for real, you feel like a couple, you don't look like a couple that has to stay in the shadows.

Around noon or so you go grocery shopping together and remember when you first went together, so long ago, when one already harbored feelings for the other, but nothing had happened between you yet but many words and long silent glances. Now there is so much complicity between you, you even dare to shake hands or intertwine fingers from time to time. You are on a pink cloud, you feel that after so many difficulties and so many misunderstandings there can finally be some serenity for you and him.

You leave around 4 p.m. in front of the library where he dropped you off and where you start your shift until almost 9 p.m. When you come out you find him out there again with a bouquet of red roses in his hands. You run up to him with a smile that goes from ear to ear throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

"Are you staying with me again tonight?" he asks you between kisses.

You moan sadly, "No, I can't. I've been missing for almost two days already and I'm not answering my mother's phone calls anymore. She must be freaking out," you tell him when you have almost reached your house.

"You are 30 years old, I think you don't have to explain to her anymore if and when you want to go out. Make her understand that you are an adult and she should treat you as such." he tells you as he takes the road where you live.

"Last time when she sensed there was someone in my life she freaked out. I told you, she locked me in my room."

"She has no right to treat you as if you were an object. I understand that she's afraid of losing you, but that's not the way to do it. She should try to give you some trust." Joel replies by putting on the handbrake, "What will you tell her about the flowers?"

You stare at the red petals, you don't actually know what you're going to say, you won't be able to tell her that you bought them from a florist because they were just pretty. She wouldn't believe you, but you wouldn't believe either if someone answered like this.

"I'll tell her they're from my man."

"Yes." he replies in an unconvinced tone of voice, "The one she knows is still Jack."

"I'll tell her the truth. I'll tell her that you and I are together. By the way, I think she's also got her eye on you."

"That way she'll lock you up and I'll never see you again," he retorts, turning off the car engine, ignoring the second part of your sentence, "Honey, think for a second about how and what you're going to say."

"Joel, if she kicks me out of the house I will come to you, and if she locks me in my room ... well, I'll climb over and come to you." he smiles shaking his head "I mean it. This time my mother won't win." you place a kiss on his lips "Trust me."

"I do trust you." he says resting his forehead against yours "Please text me. Lemme know." you nod "I love you," he whispers placing a kiss on your forehead.

You smile at him, "Me too." then you go down and enter the building.

You go up the stairs with your heart in your throat, you pretended to be strong with Joel, but you are actually afraid. Your mother will not understand, you know. She never understood you why should she understand you now that you are engaged to a man much older than you?

When you enter the house and slip off your shoes, your mother is there in the living room sitting on the sofa waiting for you. She has an icy stare that turns to surprise when she sees in your arms that huge bouquet of red roses. You don't know where to start, she stares at you with a raised eyebrow and a puzzled look.

"You have nothing to say, do you?" she says, "You disappeared. After almost forty-eight hours you show up again with these flowers in your hands. What am I to think? Have you been with Jack?"

You look at her, "It's over with Jack, Mom. A long ago."

"Then who gave you these flowers?"

Joel. Joel. His name is on the tip of your tongue, but you don't say his name, you don't talk. Your mother stares at you first coldly, then confused and finally surprised.

"Is there another person? That's why it's over with Jack, right?" you nod, looking into her eyes.

"Yes, it is," you reply.

"Who is he?"

"It doesn't matter if I tell you who he is, I love him. And that's it." you reply, turning your back on her.

"Eh no, miss. I deserve to know, I'm your mother," she replies.

You pause, "I know, but I'm 30 years old and you can't make me feel like a child forever."

"What did you say?" she asks raising her voice an octave "And then look at me, missy."

You breathe noisily "I said I am no longer a child and this attitude of yours is fine if I were fifteen. I'm sick and tired of being treated like a fool, like a piece of crystal that can break at any moment" you blurt "I have the right to have my own life, my own identity and not to have to put up with all this crap you throw at me every single day, you, your prayers have pissed me, I can't take it anymore..." a hard slap hits your cheek and nose. If it had been just her hand, it wouldn't have hurt, but the ring she wears on her hand did the rest. Your cheek and nose throbbing with pain, you almost automatically bring your hand to your cheek staring at your mother with eyes full of anger.

"You know what?" you hiss "I don't want to live like this anymore, I'm leaving," you blurt as you walk to your room and taking a pile of your clothes and arranging them in a duffle bag, you grab as many things as you can while your mother rails at you, shouting words so vulgar that you find it hard to believe that it is your mother who is cursing right now.

You're going to Kristen, you don't want to go to Joel with a swollen cheekbone and nose. It's true you told him you'd go to him, but not in this state. You will call him when you are at her place. You're about to walk through the front door when your mother yells at you, "You're just like that murderer father of yours, you're a coward, you're ungrateful. You're just like him."

The blood freezes in your veins, a murderer? But...? You want to ask and know more, but you don't want to stay another minute in that house. When you're back on the street with that duffel bag and Joel's huge bouquet of flowers, you call Kristen. It's almost eleven o'clock at night, but surely she will answer you, and in fact within three rings she answers you. You tell her everything that happened and she without a second thought tells you to go to her.

Kristen lives in a two-room apartment not very far from the library; so, luckly, you don't have to walk very far. When she sees you with a swollen nose and reddened cheekbone, she slips the luggage off your shoulder and lets you in. She makes you sit on the couch and gets you to tell her everything. You tell her about your mother, about your now soured relationship, you tell her about what your mother said about your father, you also tell her about Joel and the evolution of your relationship. When you finish, Kristen gives you a big hug in silence. She helps you arrange the flowers in a vase, then makes you a cup of chamomile tea and finally the sofa bed, also tells you that you can stay with her as long as you want.

After you have a shower and settled on Kristen's sofa bed, you call Joel.

"Honey, finally! I was just about to call you and come over and-"

"Joel, I'm at Kristen's," you tell him, interrupting him, "I left home," you add.

"Why didn't you come to my place?" you can hear by the tone of his voice that he's hurt, but you will explain to him tomorrow up why you acted that way.

"My love," you say, "tomorrow I promise to tell you everything. You'll see, I'm afraid." you add, gently laying a hand on your cheek.

"Did she hit you?" you hear the apprehension in his tone of voice.

"Let's just say she hit me pretty hard." you reply closing your eyes "Oh, Joel, I love you." you add "I don't think on other occasions I would have done what I did."

"I love you so much too, baby. I wish I had never put you in this position, believe me. I'm sorry."

"I'm not. I feel alive because of you," you tell him, "I love you. I really do."

"I love you, too. You saved me. I'll also have my pain in the ass brother to thank for interrupting lessons with you." you hear him sigh "Do you realize that if he had remained your music teacher you and I would never have met?"

Your heart aches at the thought of not having Joel in your life. By now you would still be just a waitress, not that there would be anything wrong with that, but you would have nothing else. Neither a wonderful man with whom you are slowly growing, nor a computer on which to write, nor more freedom as Joel Miller is offering you.

"If I think about this, I feel like I'm going crazy." you confide to him.

"I wish I could hold you close to me, I wish I could cradle you in my arms and feel your breath tickle my skin." you smile "I hope you'll come over tomorrow night." he adds "I'll have spaghetti from that great Italian restaurant."

"Oh no, no, no need. I mean, you spent a fortune last time, don't worry!"

"For my princess and queen of my heart this and much more." you smile rolling over onto your back "I would like to hear your voice all night, but unfortunately we have to interrupt. Tomorrow I have a job at a small construction site here in town."

"Please be careful."

"Always am. I love you."

"Ditto." you reply to him.

You then interrupt the call and put the phone on charge. You breathe deeply and, despite the way you left your relationship with your mother, you feel happy. You have Joel. That's what matters.

Evening fortunately comes fairly quickly, and when you knock on his door, you find him with his hair ruffled and only his shorts on. You stand spellbound by his beauty, he greets you with a big smile and a tight hug. You smile, you covered as best you could the swelling present on your cheekbone and nose so that the first thing he would not notice was that. From his reaction, you succeeded. He takes your face gently in his hands and then kisses you softly.

You smile into the kiss.

He then closes the door behind you and basks in the sight of you, judging by the way he scrutinizes you, you'd say he likes what you've been wearing. He lets you into the living room and you find instead of a sofa a round table with two chairs, a candle and dozens and dozens of red roses.

You smile at him finding your eyes watery, "I don't know what to say..."

"It's a first date, well sort of...I mean...I know I'm supposed to take you to some expensive club, but yeah I mean...I had something else in mind." he stammers slipping his hands into the pockets of his shorts "I was getting dressed and..." you interrupt that disjointed flow of words by encircling his neck with your arms and placing a small kiss on his lips.

"It's fine, everything is fine. Everything is perfect, even you. If you want you can have dinner dressed like this." you tease him.

"You'd like that, huh?"

"Touché." you reply, rubbing your nose against his.

"Have a seat, I'll put some clothes on and join you," he says giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling away to go upstairs.

You look more carefully at the living room and notice the couch moved under the window, it has a record player, a disc inserted, but not running, the candles are still unlit, and you smile.

He was still getting everything ready.

You feel a great tenderness as well as a great love in your heart.

You did not think he would arrange such a gallant dinner, "Here I am." he says surrounding you in his arms, making you feel the safest person in the world.

You spend the evening talking, joking, laughing, squeezing your hands from time to time, Joel told you that now that you no longer live with your mother, you can bring your computer with you so you can write as and when you want, you can only accept with great joy.

The candles are almost burning out, by now it is almost midnight when you sit next to each other on the sofa unable to take your eyes off each other and smile at each other. Your fingers are firmly intertwined, "Will you stay with me tonight?" he asks you.

"Sure." you reply, moving your face closer to his by placing a kiss first on his nose, then on his cheek and finally on his lips. You find yourselves smiling at each other with a tender and complicit air.

"You know, I was thinking, um, would you like to maybe take a little trip? Maybe we could get away to the coast in Texas. For a couple of days, I mean. I know you're busy, but I'd be really glad to spend some time alone with you."

You sit on his lap with a big smile, wrap your arms around his neck, "It's okay anywhere as long as I'm with you."

"'s that a yes?" he asks you, returning the smile.

"Fuck yes!" you blurt out, kissing him repeatedly as he smiles.

Since you are free from your mother's negative flow, you feel light and smile so much more. You are driving with Joel to a destination unknown to you, but you don't care. You are with him and that is what matters. You chat most of the time, other times he puts on songs by authors unknown to you but that are not bad, you take breaks from time to time during which you take the opportunity to eat, walk a little, savor the warmer weather and the wind tickling your face.

You arrive at your destination when it is almost sunset by now, Joel parks near the beach and then you get off, the warm wind gently caressing your hair as you delighted watch the sea ripple gently on the beach, it is so beautiful. Everything's so beautiful.

Joel reaches out to you taking you by the hand leading you close to the shore, you see him slip off his shoes and smile at you. You return the smile by imitating his gesture and then follow him. The slightly warm water brushes against your feet, he squeezes your hand just a little tighter intertwining his fingers with yours as you walk to shore and smile at each other.

"It's a beautiful place," you say making your gaze wander from the sea to the man who is squeezing your hand tightly and looking at you with an enraptured look, "I love you," you say holding onto him and kissing him softly.

In the evening you eat at a little restaurant not far from your room that Joel booked before you left. You eat and chat a lot, confess to him that all this is inspiring you a lot for your story, and he smiles with delight as he looks at you with eyes full of pride and admiration.

When you are in the room, you realize that Joel has spent a fortune on that room. The room is spacious, elegant, and the sophisticated decorations on the walls and the choice of accessories remind you very much of elegant Parisian style. The floor is red wood, the bed is four-poster with small curtains that look extremely light and elegant. A little further is a small round table with two armchairs, a small desk and even a sofa in front of the bed in the same colors as the bed.

The bathroom is beige marble with a huge mirror, and to your right is a flush shower stall in the same marble colors.

"Joel, it's . . . it's too much." you comment turning toward him feeling almost guilty about the amount of money he will surely have spent. He encircles you with his arms and rests his forehead against yours "Nothing is too much for my queen." he tells you.

"I don't know what to say." you say almost breathlessly.

"Just say you love me." he tells you, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." you repeat until he catches your lips between his.

You have chills as you run your hands through his hair and feel that moment has come. You want to be his. Before you can realize it, he picks you up in his arms and carries you to the bed.

You rise up on your elbows as he reaches down and kisses you once more.

"Undress me," you invite him before quickly capturing his lips.

"Your wish is my command," he agrees, sliding the straps of your dress down your shoulders and then dropping the zipper and freeing you from the dress, leaving you with only your bra and thong on "You look beautiful, my love. As always." he comments then placing a kiss on your neck as you throw your head back smiling.

That pleasant contrast between his lips and his beard tickles your rippling skin.

He takes to kissing you again as you bring both hands into his hair before saying, "Undress me, completely." you invite him, looking into his eyes. He scrutinizes them carefully, his eyes shining and he smiles at you as he takes to unhooking your bra thus exposing your breasts to the fresh air of the room and his lascivious gaze. He lays a kiss first on one of your breasts and then on the other, then pulls away only so he can slip off your thong and thus free your intimacy. You breathe deeply as he runs his gaze over your entire body and then smiles at you.

"You are beautiful." he repeats before positioning himself between your legs and resuming kissing you. His large, experienced hands travel along your body with great slowness, you feel as if that gentle, gentle contact is almost searing your skin.

"I love you," you repeat, barely squeezing your legs against his hips wrapping him even more tightly to you.

"I love you too," he tells you kissing first your jaw, "every second," he kisses your neck "every minute" he leaves a kiss on your collarbones "every hour," he says kissing first one breast "every day more." he concludes kissing then the other.

"I want to be yours," you tell him.

"Are you sure you want me to be your first?" he asks you almost surprised.

You nod "Yes, please," you reply almost trembling. He resumes kissing you, while with one hand he caresses your breasts, your belly and then goes down between your already moist folds, you open your legs just a little wider so as to give him more access and he so easily slips two fingers inside you making you moan into the kiss and almost go for that invasion of his. His fingers move slowly in and out of you making your skin ripple more and more and making you moan louder and louder.

Trembling you come on his fingers. You squeeze his shoulders in your hands as you recover from this first climax, "Oh, Joel . . ." you squeak, laying a kiss on his neck.

"You okay?" he asks looking at you.

"I thought I was going to come, um . . I mean, on your . . . um, I didn't think . ." you say confused really thinking that he was going to make you come once he was inside you.

"I know, but you have to come one more time first," he replies.

Another orgasm? You open your eyes wide assuming an almost incredulous look.

"What do you mean?"

He lays a finger on your lips, "Let me do it, my love." you kiss his thumb, then open your lips and lick it. His eyes become two dark pools as he slips one of his fingers between your lips, you gently lick and nibble on it as if you were licking and stroking his cock "You're perfect, make me come now." he adds after a while lying him down on the mattress.

You sit up on your knees and unbutton his shirt exposing his chest to your view where you immediately dive into it making him moan and shudder, take his shirt off completely then open the waistband of his pants. He helps you by lifting his pelvis and slipping off his pants and boxers together.

You let your gaze wander from head to toe of your man, and the more you look at him, the more you cannot believe that such a handsome man is naked in the same bed as you.

You then observe his manhood and find it already half-hard and ready, your mouth watering. You first make your hands wander along his shaft making him breathe heavily and tilt his head back, "Oh, baby," he moans when you encircle his shaft between your lips and feel his strong taste and smell intoxicate you and envelop all your senses. You can tell by the way he moans that his climax is imminent. He grunts and squeezes your hair tighter and tighter until he explodes between your lips. You swallow all of his release, licking then your lips as well.

You then lie on top of him and kiss him, his arms immediately wrapping around you and then bringing you underneath him "If you don't want to, stop me," he says panting as he looks up at you, while you stare at him with your lips parted and your breath short.

You can't, you don't want to.

"I've never been so sure, my love," you say wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him.

Your foreheads are beaded with sweat, you are overwhelmed with pleasure.

"You have to come one more time before we can continue," he says again.

He plunges his head between your folds, which he immediately exposes to his lips and his tongue that seems to dig into you, "Oh . . fuck . ." you groan, throwing your head completely back. He sucks, licks with a great slowness that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. You feel your pussy twitch as you gasp and finally come between his lips.

After you recover from your second climax, he lays his hands on the sides of your face, "I love you, baby."

"Me too, so much." you moan, still shaken from your orgasm.

"Baby, I'm going to slip a condom on now," he tells you as he is about to get off the bed, but you stop him "No, please, I want to feel you inside me." you beg him.

He almost gasps when he feels your will, then lays one hand at the side of your head and with the other helps himself by making his way inside you.

That's when you feel the tip of his cock at the entrance to your intimacy, you hold your breath.

"My love, relax," he says resting his forehead against yours caressing your cheek with one hand and causing your gazes to lock, as he very slowly makes his way inside you. You groan with a jolt, your eyes wide open and your lips parted "It's okay, ssst, I'm here." he says kissing the tip of your nose as he sinks deeper and deeper inside you.

It almost feels like he's splitting you in two, you feel your flesh tensing and enveloping him as you let out a stifled moan and squeeze your eyes shut. He does not move; he's inside you, but he does not move.

"Relax, my love," he repeats, caressing your breasts this time and then your belly, "Or you will feel even more pain," you open your eyes finding his even darker from desire, the features of his face tense, you know he would like to do much more, but at the moment you cannot give him permission to do more, you have pain, a burning pain as well as a strange languor inside you.

"If I hurt you, just say the word and I'll stop," you shake your head.

You have already experienced part of him inside you, but this is definitely more, his thick rod pulsing inside you as you let out a moan slightly different from previous ones "I know, it's a lot to take," he comments kissing you softly on the lips as he still very slowly makes his way inside you. You feel tears pricking your eyes as you clench your toes and spread your legs just a little wider as you gradually feel that unpleasant tearing sensation fade away.

"I wouldn't have imagined it would be like this," you comment in a broken voice.

"How did you imagine it?" he asks you stifling a small groan.

"I thought it would be ... even more painful, but having you inside me is . . . indescribable." you reply feeling your skin flush and at that moment with closed eyes you smile as his hands continue to roam over your face caressing you with a feather-light touch.

"You're doing great, my darling," he tells you very sweetly.

"Really?" you ask him opening your eyes and contemplating his face contorted in pleasure "I'm sorry if it's not the way you wanted it."

He looks at you questioningly, then shakes his head, smiling at you "Don't even think about it, you're perfect. My cock squeezed by your pussy is great." he replies making you smile weakly "You are perfect, my love. I love you."

"Oh, I love you, too," you tell him holding tightly to him as you feel him pulsing inside you and slowly a burning pleasure breaks through you.

"You tell me when I can move," he tells you, you nod.

"Joel, go. . ." you sigh.

"You know I love you, don't you?" he tells you, slowly coming out from inside you, making you almost wince from the empty feeling he has left you with.

"Yes," you answer in a whisper.

As before he enters you very slowly, you let out a moan abandoning your head back as he enters you all the way "Fuck. . ." you sigh feeling your taut, tender flesh pulsing against him again.

He moves so slowly that slowly that now familiar feeling of pleasure inside you grows, oh it's wonderful. It gives you more pleasure his fingertip on your clit moving in small circles that make you moan more and more, oh it feels so good, so good.

His double stimulation brings you into that now familiar boiling abyss, "J - Joel, I'm going to cum." you say, as he continues ever so slowly moving in and out of you and moving his thumb over that little bundle of nerves, "Come, my love, show me." he urges you without slowing down or stopping.

Coming around him breaks your breath and makes you feel so full, so full of him. Your eyes are filled with tears as your climax explodes and as he keeps moving and whispering in your ear how much he loves you, how tight you are, and how your pussy is sucking his cock.

You close your eyes, tipping your head back on the pillow as you feel the intense contractions of your climax.

"Shit, I don't think . . . I don't think I can take any more," he moans in your ear.

"Come, my love," you say in a choked voice in his ear.

He makes to come out from inside you, but you open your eyes and hold him back "Please, I want you inside me . . ." your eyes bore into his.

"Fuck . . ." he moans, as his thrusts get closer and closer and you wrap your arms around him even tighter to you, "Oh...fuck...oh, fuck..." he moans before he lets out a long moan in your ear and then you feel his hot seed paint your walls. As he continues to come, he thrusts slightly deeper inside you making you gasp and moan with him, "Joel... oh... oh..." is it possible to come again just in feeling him come inside you?

When by now the climax wanes for both of you, he helps you clean yourself and only after you are both clean, he lies down beside you admiring you with a wide smile that makes his eyes shine, "You are even more beautiful after making love, you know that?" he tells you.

You smile giving him a kiss feeling a wonderful sense of bliss, peace, you feel good (a little sore, but that's natural), seeing Joel with that serene expression painted on his face makes you smile even more.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, stroking your face.

You roll onto your stomach holding onto your forearms, "Good, in fact I'd be ready to do it again already."

He shakes his head and smiles at you, "My love, we better not. You know, you might start to feel some pain."

"Yes, I know, but that's normal," you retort.

He nods "Yes, so let's wait a little bit. In the meantime, come here." he says drawing you to his chest and wrapping his muscular arms around your torso, kissing your head, then your forehead and then kissing your nose and finally your lips.

"I love you so much, baby."

"I love you so much too."

[ichore]

tw for venting

I'm sure most fanfic writers are familiar with the feeling where you've been obsessed with a story idea for weeks/months and yet when you sit down, the words you put down just can't live up to what you're imagining in your head.

Honestly, I've been feeling like this for a while now. And I'm not looking for positive reinforcement here, if you decide to read this, I'm really just rambling about what's been heavy on my mind lately.

The thing is that I'm from a side of Central Europe where English wasn't taught well when I was a kid, and I also never had the best teachers. But I liked the language and I taught myself the basics, the hows and the whys - like most people on Tumblr. Yet I feel like there's something lacking in the way I speak and write English. I feel like it's almost robotic, which is strange because I learned the language from mostly tv shows where it's all dialogues.

Either way, I'm not satisfied with my writing style. Some days are better, some days are worse. I'm currently in the "worse" days right now. After taking a vacation and looking at my drabbles with a fresh eye, I feel myself physically cringe and obviously, I don't enjoy feeling this way about a hobby that's supposed to be entertaining for me.

I don't think about deactivating or stopping with writing or anything like that, but it's a very unpleasant position to be in, and I wasn't sure what to do with this for a long time. So that's why this little rant post was made. I'm not sure if this will help, but it's worth a shot.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my little dark thoughts that I had at these late night hours. If you find this relatable, at least know that you're not alone. Everyone has bad days. The best we can do is look at our mistakes, learn and improve, and I hope that I can also grow with you all.