#watch closely for someone even more controversial

[pearldefiance]

The difference isn't "people write fanfiction now and it's fundamentally unserious and unworthy to be Culture." People who break out the smelling salts and head to the fainting couch when they hear "Dante's Divine Comedy was fanfiction" are ignoring the point that cultural production is the same as it ever was: Any foundational cultural myth has hundreds to thousands of different versions that each reflect the experiences of contributors from different times and places. Look at Robin Hood. Look at King Arthur. (I'm picking those because they're the easy ones most Westerners know. What I'm saying is broadly applicable.)

What has changed is that corporations now own the majority of foundational cultural myths and leverage them as capital. That gives them carte blanche to claim that derived works are fundamentally lesser and subject to their authority, a claim most people accept uncritically. "Fanfiction" has always been going on as long as you recognize that "fans" are the folk in folklore. They receive something from a storyteller, they change it, and their versions drastically outnumber the so-called official version. For most of history, the folk have defined the grounding myths that underpin their social consensus. It was very difficult to nearly impossible to point back into history and say "this was the first, canonical version from the real author." In many cases, we still can't figure it out. And it's probable we never will, because narratives weren't (that kind of) capital for most of history.

This is just another way fences are being placed around the commons and we are all being robbed of something intrinsically human, the right to shape and share the collective semiotic space.

[jesuistrestriste]

I also had this idea about dilf era art having his sex tape(s) leaked.. or leaking them on purpose because his career is falling off.

The Christian moms would be clutching their pearls when they hear about THE art donaldson getting his back blown out 💀

His tennis career might be over but maybe he's got a new one with his pretty younger gf and her massive strap

ufff angel ! !

it’s a massive scandal when it leaks on twitter from an anonymous account.

the start of the video is actually pretty tame; and you’d never expect the man in the video to be the wimbledon-winning art donaldson. the first few minutes show a fit, naked man sitting on the edge of a bed with a girl in his lap. his hands on her hips, his cock bobbing in the little space left between them. she’s wearing a lacy black lingerie set, and even though you can’t see their faces—the framing cuts off their heads—you can tell from the wet, depraved noises alone that they’re aggressively making out.

the sloppy kissing turns into the two individuals getting handsy. he reaches up to squeeze her tits over the fabric, and her hands seem to move up behind his neck to tug on the back of his hair. a flash of blond locks can be seen. that’s the first hint of his identity. he moans when she pulls, his abdomen tensing and his length dribbling a sticky glob of arousal from his tip. in the next instant, one of her hands reaches down and starts to palm his tip. he jolts forward and whines, letting out an anguished “hnnghh” as she starts to stroke him.

his breathing gets quicker, the pale skin of his chest growing more and more pink by the second, before his fingers appear to dig into her body and he tenses up. her hand pulls away, effectively edging him. he shudders and wraps his arms around her lower back, pulling her further into his body. “pleasepleaseplease..” he can be heard whispering to begging her.

the tape cuts to black for only a moment before��

…wow.

she’s now got him bent over onto all-fours on the bed, his ass facing her pelvis while she lines up a thick pink dildo that’s attached to a harness she hadn’t been wearing before. his head is still lifted just enough to keep his eyes out of the video, but his jaw and lips and the tip of his nose can be seen. his mouth is hung open in a desperate ‘o’ while he feels her strap prod and begin to push in. it slides into him with little resistance, and she can be heard cooing down to the man below.

“thaaat’s it, baby.. good job.. guess we prepped you enough, huh?”

it’s teasing yet authoritative in nature, and the man just lets out an anguished groan of pure unfiltered pleasure as she positions her hands at his hips and starts to earnestly fuck into him. each roll of her pelvis elicits a sharp moan and whimper, and anyone watching can clearly see his cock drooling onto the sheets helplessly.

suddenly, after only a couple of minutes of this, the woman hikes her leg up onto the bed, bending it at the knee to gain better leverage on the side farthest from the camera, and pushes her hand down into the space between his shoulder blades.

he lets out a surprised whimper, keens, and then falls face-down into the bedding.

and in that moment in the video, every single person watching finally realized who he was.

all of his features are now totally visible. every single one.

art’s face is burning; his eyes rolling back into his head while his brows pinch up in ecstasy. his cheek is pressing into the mattress, his ass still up to meet her movements. he grips the white bedding under his palms and then bites his lip, “ohhh, fuck,” he whines, almost girlish, “fuck me harder, i’m gonna come, baby— ah-haah— i’m so close right now-!”

he’s making noises like a total pornstar; someone fit for the limelight and the mess of it all.

the woman, who can now be assumed to be his (controversially) younger girlfriend, complies with his begging with no more than a low chuckle. she bucks into him faster, and art yelps.

she raises her right hand and brings it down over his ass in a playful slap before she squeezes the flesh. his entire frame jolts and then he squeezes his eyes shut, his back perfectly arched, “.. im gonna come, can i— mgnh- touch myself? can you-or, i c— AH!”

the tennis player’s words get cut off when the girl leans over his back and wraps her hand around his sticky dick hanging heavily between his thighs. she pumps him quickly in time with her thrusts and it takes no more than twenty seconds before he’s trembling all over. and god, it’s a sight to behold.

“i’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come, baby, im gonna come! i’m—“

a strangled curse flies past his lips before he’s squealing and gushing milky strings of his release over her fingers and onto the bed. moans of pleasure turn into sobs of overstimulation as she milks him in her grasp, strong shots of his orgasm blending into pathetic dribbles of whatever’s left inside his balls.

he collapses under her, her strap still filling him, and she tenderly strokes his shaking back with her left hand. art’s gasping for air like he’s been deprived of it for a moment too long, and some of his hair is sticking to his forehead. his eyes open slightly, albeit lidded, and he moans out a slurred “thank you” before the video cuts to an end.

the uproar in its wake is insane.

he’s all over celebrity gossip magazines, and being talked about in raunchy podcasts, and exploited in deep-dive youtube videos. everything. it’s everywhere.

people were talking about him now who hadn’t even thought about him in years.

he was the talk of the town, really.

.. so art doesn’t even feel guilty that he was the one who clicked ‘post’.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write about the reader being either Ford or stans controversially young spouse? Like they're close to their 20s instead of their 60s

Ooh to be their controversially younger spouse what a dream I wish I could live lmao 🤣

Before you became Ford’s spouse, the man would always use the age gap between you two as the sole reason as to why you shouldn’t be together romantically, he’s sweating bullets and loosing sleep over it because it’s just so glaringly obvious to him that you shouldn’t.

However this was all just a cover up for the fact that he did indeed feel things for you in a romantic sense. You were great with Dipper and Mabel, encouraging their passions and even getting involved in them should they need someone to be dazzle in gems or go out into the woods to look for the supernatural.

You even got along with Stan, which was only an added bonus for Ford but still he kept reminding himself that he was far, far too old for you that he might as well have been old enough to be your father/ grandfather! Wasn’t that enough to disturb you?

He knew some people held a liking towards older people but believed it was more for their wisdom and life experience, not the romantic kind.

Apparently it wasn’t because Ford accidentally over heard a conversation between you and Wendy regarding his age;

Wendy: isn’t he too old for you?

You: negative, I love older men. Especially older men who are smart, a little socially awkward and plays dungeons, dungeons and more dungeons.

Wendy: …respect dude.

Needles to say after hearing that Ford’s face became as red as cherries and his worries regarding how you felt towards the age difference seemed to have dwindled slightly, but still he worried that others would view you as weird for being with a man more then twice your own age.

Sure there wasn’t many…worthy candidates to date in Gravity falls but surely he couldn’t be the only one worth your gaze? Mabel must’ve at least tried to set you up on more then one occasion, but according to her you just never seemed to jell with the people she set you up with, saying that you had a distant look in your eyes as though you could be anyone else then at the date.

When Mabel confronted you about it one day, you told her that you liked men a little older then you, Mabel then asked why but you only ruffled her hair and told her that she might see the vision one day. Ford was now being presented with more proof that you would be more then content with dating him, it was undeniable and he even indirectly heard it from your own mouth, so what else could he possibly be held back by?

Fear and rejection from society if they ever were to see you both in a romantic setting?

Then again you both lived in gravity Falls and there were things far weirder than an 20 year old dating a 60 -pushing 70- year old man. And thus began Ford’s new hypothesis; how to win over a 20 year old’s heart.

After you stated dating, you beating the other ladies and men off with a stick because that sexy silver fox was yours! FINALLY! It was your turn to have a sexy older man in your bed!

Other then that you loved being with Ford as no two days were the same, you could be going out with him to look for supernatural as a date, thankfully surviving when Ford got a little distracted by spouting facts on what was trying to kill you both and ending up sat on the porch of the mystery shack and laughing together afterwards.

Or be in his lab and watching him work while admiring how handsome he looked with greying hair and an aging face, but Ford would see it otherwise and become a little insecure and reserved.

‘Don’t you think it weird?’ He’d ask you one day.

‘About us?’ You didn’t have to hear him respond when you knew that Ford was still a little uncertain with your age difference still after seemingly accepting it. You sigh and walked over to him and sat on his lap, making him blush and his eyes widen as you hold his face between your hands.

‘Ford, sweetie I don’t care about what they think, I’m just glad that I got to be with you after pinning for so long. I understand this is new for you but all I ask is that you trust me,’ you kissed his nose softly, ‘and trust in our relationship, there’s nothing weird about it unless you make it weird.’ You add with a smile as Ford rested his head against you, his hands now resting comfortably on your waist.

‘You’re right my sweet,’ Ford said, ‘I’m just worried that you might find someone close to your age more appealing then some old man.’ You couldn’t help but chuckle as you leant further into him.

‘Who could I ever find more appealing than you mr sixer?’ You asked rhetorically, ‘you’re more than perfect the way you are and I’m the lucky bastard who gets to call you mine, so everyone else can stay jealous for all I care knowing I have the most perfect man ever.’ You add as you kissed his lips this time and smiling when Ford reciprocated it with his sweeter, soft kiss.

You probably have moments where you recall something Ford wouldn’t understand and Ford would reference something that was older than you, it’s funny regardless of how you looked at it.

Ford’s body still has aches and pains despite keeping himself healthier than Stanley and so you would help him during these times and coddle him lovingly, while reminding him that he needed to take it easy on himself once in a while.

Ford apologises for it but you only shut him up and remind him that he has nothing to apologise for.

You didn’t treat each other differently because of your ages, if anything you made Ford feel young again and Ford gifted you advice and made you feel just that little bit smarter, which boosted your confidence in yourself. It was a beautiful relationship that was pure and sweet it could give anyone cavities.

Stanley didn’t give a shit you were dating his brother, he knew you liked men above a certain age when you kept eye fucking Ford whenever he walked past you, or how Ford would look at you longingly when you weren’t looking . He saw this shit coming from a mile away as it wasn’t exactly subtle on either end and may have made a bet with Wendy about how soon you’d come to him to announce you were dating his brother.

Stanley won the bet much to Wendy’s dismay.

You saw Ford shirtless once and went apeshit much to his surprise because weren’t people your age into six packs and hairless upper bodies?

Nope, not you, you loved his tummy and body hair that you clung to his side and spent the afternoon kissing his scars and embarrassing tattoos he kept covered in turtlenecks while whispering reassurance that reminded him that you were attraction to him was more then surface level. Ford would return the favour when you had episodes of insecurity would remains you of such by comparing your every insecurity to something beautiful.

Acne? Constellations/ clusters of stars

Stretch marks? Lighting strikes

You’ve got a tummy and thick thighs? Didn’t you know that they(thick thighs) saved lives?!

Needless to say that you came out with a newfound love for yourself afterwards.

You constantly held his hand and kissed each finger to show that you didn’t care about anything but him and his wellbeing, it warmed Ford’s heart as he found to love himself a little more with your help, and in doing so he was able to show you love by kissing your cheek in greeting or making you breakfast in bed or draping his coat over your shoulders when he saw that you were cold.

It was sweet and innocent but still it was enough to have you smiling and feel loved, which is all Ford ever wanted you to feel while with him.

Ford’s love was chivalrous, stubborn and awkward, but you wouldn’t want it any other way as you wanted Ford just the way he was and thrived when you saw his eyes gleam with excitement as he makes a discovery, leading him to grasp your face and kiss you on the lips while holding you close to his chest as he explained what he had done; all the while you stared at him with awe and love because he was really attractive when he was talking about things he was passionate about.

Ford would then catch himself and apologise for rambling but you would kiss him on the cheek and ask him to continue, to which Ford happily obliged, now aware that you were staring at him as though he had hung the stars in the sky.

Ford would find himself looking at you in a similar fashion when you were going on about what you and Mabel did in town, and Ford couldn’t help but hone in on your smile, shining eyes and hand gestures that told him that you enjoyed the hijinks that had happened while wearing the sweater that Mabel made you the entire time.

You’d catch him staring intently at you and suddenly you’re flustered and playing with the sleeves of your bright and vibrant sweater. ‘It’s kinda corny isn’t it?’ You’d ask as Ford chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand reassuringly in his.

‘No, not at all my sweet, I in fact find your adventures with my niece and nephew endearing and sweet. So please continue to tell me how you drop kicked a gnome into Mabel’s leaf blower.’ Ford said and within seconds you were back to being bright and talkative about your adventures of fighting off gnomes, barf fairies and pulling Mabel away from fae traps.

You both were each others listeners and would remember anything and everything said because you actually liked to hear where the other got up to when apart from one another.

Bonus; you definitely have a spot in his journal where he goes in depth of your relationship before ending it with: ‘they’re someone I don’t think I could envision a future without, for they make me young again while loving me regardless of our differences in age and much more. Thank you for loving me y/n, even when I don’t think it’s deserved.’

[not-neverland06]

hi!! Given my obsession for Hugh jackman I am CRAVING for some Leopold X reader (from Kate & Leopold)! Maybe with some little angst but happy ending??

I love your blog!! Have a wonderful day 😽💐💓

Leopold Mountbatten x fem!reader a/n: I don’t know how controversial this is going to be and I don’t care. I could never finish the movie because I hated Meg Ryan in it so much. It’s so odd, I’ve loved her in everything else she’s been in but she made it such a hard watch. Maybe it’s because she reminds me of my grandma in the worst way lol, but I finished it for you anon sorry this was a little rushed Anyways, hope you enjoy lovelies Summary: Your neighbor went back in time and dragged someone back with him. He's irritatingly polite and far too interested in your way of life. What are you meant to do when you fall for a man who was never even supposed to meet you?

“Hello, madam, please I need your help!”

You’re used to crazies, it is New York after all. But they’re not usually shouting at you through your window. Especially not when you’re on the sixth floor. You look away from your coffee and glance towards the fire escape. 

There’s an oddly dressed man with red eyes waving at you through the dirty glass. You offer him a tentative wave back and he nods aggressively. “Yes, hello, I need your assistance.”

“Um,” you shake your head, “Sorry, I don’t have any drugs dude.”

“No,” he places his hands pathetically on the glass and shakes his head. “Please, I have been kidnapped.” Finally, you take a step closer to him. You can tell now that his eyes aren’t reddened from any medicinal fun, he probably got pepper sprayed. 

Your friend did it to you once when you tried to surprise her on her birthday and you’ll never forget just how awful you looked afterwards. You can see him a bit more clearly now. Whatever odd costume he’s got on, it looks good. Genuine and clean. 

Not like most of the street performers you see in Times Square. Besides, he doesn’t have that maddened look in his eye that makes you worry he’s going to come inside and kill you. Tentatively, you open the window. 

He’s leaping through in a second and you jump back with a yelp. He turns towards you and his eyes widen before he quickly turns away. “My good lady, where are your pants?”

“Uh,” you glance down at the oversized shirt you’re wearing and the tiny shorts underneath. Admittedly, it’s a little skimpy, but you’re not walking around naked. You’ve heard of committing to the bit, but this is a bit much. “On,” you tell him, walking around him and trying to stand close to the phone. 

“Ma’am-” He’s cut off as someone slams their fist on your front door. You keep a weary eye on the man while you unlock your door. 

“Hey,” Stuart smiles at you. His eyes drift slightly past your shoulder and he goes barging into your apartment. “Leopold! What did I say?”

You huff and glare at Stuart’s frantic back. “This is yours?” Stuart nods and rushes Leopold out the door. You don’t miss the pleading, while slightly scandalized, look he sends you. 

You slam the door closed behind them, shaking your head and going back to your morning paper. You doubt you’ll be seeing him around again. 

You know, it’s just your luck that your upstairs neighbor is a scientist, one who happens to dabble in the art of time travel. And it’s just your luck that he had to fall down a damn elevator shaft. 

Now, according to him, you have to care for someone from a different century so he can make it back to his time portal in, well, in time. This is fucking ridiculous. “I’m going to kill you, Stuart.”

“Look, they’re going to take my phone but he really cannot-”

It goes silent on the other end. You shout his name a few times but hear nothing in response. You assume the hospital staff has finally gotten sick of his shenanigans and has taken his phone. You slam your handset down with a huff and look towards the living room. Leopold hasn’t sat down since you walked in and it’s unsettling. 

“So,” you start and his attention snaps towards you. “1876, huh?”

He nods and you roll your eyes with a scoff. “Oh, this is insane. This is insane,” you mutter to yourself, walking towards Stuart’s door. Leopold gives you a concerned look before quickly following after you. There’s a part of you, and you hate that part, that actually believes some of this. 

Stuart is a brilliant, though flawed, scientist. You don’t doubt that he might have actually unlocked the secret to traveling back to the past, but it’s such an insane idea to try and wrap your head around. 

“Come on, we’re leaving.” You know that Stuart doesn’t want him out of the house. Tough. You’re not going to just stay inside and wait until he can supposedly go back to the past. You don’t give Leopold any time to process your answer, already out the door and heading towards the stairs. 

“You know,” he starts as he catches up to you. “You are quite rude.” Your first instinct is to snap back at him. But you take a breath and stop yourself. 

You’re desensitized, ridiculously used to just how awful New Yorkers can be to each other. And whether this man is truly from the past or not is up for debate. But he is polite and earnest, and you have no reason to be a bitch to him. 

“I’m,” the words are hard to come by but you force them out anyway, “I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely surprised by the apology and it only makes you feel worse. “This is just an insane idea to try and grasp.”

He chuckles softly, smiling as he glances down at his feet. “Yes, how do you think I feel?”

You’re sure it’s not his intention, but you only feel like more of an ass. If this is hard for you, whatever he's going through is a hundred times worse. You weren’t forcefully ripped out of your own time and shoved into another you don’t understand. He’s still trying to comprehend the television.

Though, you’re sure being a scientist has helped him in marginally understanding how all of this is possible. “How do you like the future?” It sounds awkward and stiff, but you haven’t had to talk to anyone in a really long time. 

Your interactions are pretty limited at the book shop considering no one ever comes in. They all order online nowadays and all you really have to worry about is organizing shelves. You’re embarrassingly rusty when it comes to conversing. 

And his propensity towards eloquence only makes you feel worse. “I must admit, some of your inventions have been quite fascinating. I’m especially fond of your showers.”

Your face scrunches slightly at the mention of hygiene and you nod, “I bet.” Before either of you can attempt to salvage this horrible attempt at conversation your phone starts ringing. “Hold on one second,” you tell him. You walk a few feet away from him but you can still feel his eyes boring into your back as you move away. 

“Hello?”

There’s a frantic shout of your name down the line and then the distinct jingling of keys. “I need you to cover the shop. Marcy just went into labor and I’ve got to go!” Paul doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he hangs up. 

Your jaw gapes and you stare down at your phone with shock. You know Paul and his wife had been expecting, but had it really already been nine months? Has your life become so monotonous and dull that nine months doesn’t even register for you?

It’s a depressing thought. One you’d rather not linger on. “What was that?”

You scream, though the people passing by don’t pay you any mind, and jump away from Leopold. “Jesus, where the hell did you come from?”

Leopold flinches away from you and his face is just as aghast as yours. “Good heavens, what is the matter with you? Do you respond to anything as a sensible woman might?”

“I resent that.” You tell him bitterly. Though, he does make a good point. You’ve been on edge constantly. You always seem to be more anxious than you are happy. It’s not a good state to perpetually exist in. “I need to go into work.”

You don’t want to outright say that he needs to go back to the apartment. It feels a little mean, but you’re hoping he’ll catch onto your tone of voice. 

His entire demeanor perks up and he smiles at you. “Wonderful, I am dreadfully curious as to what you do.”

You open your mouth to correct him, let him know he’s not coming. But he’s staring at you with such hopeful eyes that you cannot find it in yourself to turn him down. He seems so excited, you’re sure he won’t be when he gets to your cluttered little bookshop. You let out a weary sigh, “Fine. Okay.”

You walk towards the curb, hoping to hail a cab. But Leopold’s hand gently wraps around your elbow and tugs you in the opposite direction. Your eyes widen in response to his boldness. You thought touching a woman he wasn’t courting would cause someone like him to combust. Seems he didn’t mind breaking the rules sometimes. 

You make a mental note of that for later. You don’t know what you’re going to do with the information, but you find it intriguing. Maybe the modern world was rubbing off on him more than he’d like to admit. 

“We should take this,” he stops you in front of a horse-drawn carriage and you immediately begin to shake your head. 

“No, Leopold, these are just tourist traps-”

He doesn’t let you finish, opening the carriage’s door and gently nudging you inside. “Nonsense! This is far more enjoyable than those yellow monstrosities.”

“Taxi,” you correct. You turn towards the carriage driver and give him directions to your bookshop. “Ink and Tea on Fifth.” He nods and the carriage rolls forward with a lurch. You grip the cushioned seats and pray you don’t get motion sickness. 

“Ink and Tea?” Leopold inquires. “Are you a journalist?”

You smile and shake your head. “No, nothing so fancy. I just help take care of an old bookshop. They were supposed to extend the shop when it first opened. They were going to build a space for people to get pastries or drink tea, but it never happened and the owner was too lazy to change the name.”

It feels a little humiliating to be talking about your minimum-wage job to a renowned scientist. He’s invented or is going to, elevators. He doesn’t care about your stupid shop. But he doesn’t look particularly judgy of you. If anything he seems to be endeared to you the more you talk. 

Normally, you’re oblivious to these sorts of things. But it’s nearly impossible for him to hide. He’s not shy with his attraction, never taking his eyes off of you and hanging onto your every word. You’re not used to such outward attention. 

You look out of the carriage, pretending to take in views you’ve already seen a thousand times. “This city is incredible,” he wonders aloud. His awe is palpable. 

Your nose wrinkles and you shrug. “It’s dirty and the people are intolerable.”

“Must you always be so pessimistic?” You snap your mouth shut and feel embarrassment creeping around you. You’ve never had someone point out when you’re being negative, but he has a point. 

You used to view the city through the same rose-colored glasses. Something’s broken inside you in recent years that has just taken the joy out of life. Everything is grey to you now, until Leopold, nothing spectacular has ever really happened to you. 

The carriage comes to a stop outside the shop before you can respond to him. You want to deny what he says, but you can’t. Your attitude is almost always unnecessary. You think sometimes you might just be trying to see if everyone feels as miserable as you do or if there’s just something wrong with you. 

“Come on,” you tell him, getting out and paying the driver. He wanders towards the shop, eyeing the displays in the window curiously. 

“These are wonderful,” he tells you, pointing to the way you’d made the books look like they’re floating above the shelves. It was just some silly little thing you’d tried to get more people in the shop. It’d worked for about a month. 

“I did that,” you unlock the door to the shop and open it for him. But he doesn’t walk in immediately, instead, he lingers in the doorway. He offers you a soft smile and you can’t help but return it. 

“You’re more creative than you give yourself credit for.”

Your eyes widen as you watch him walk inside. He keeps making these oddly astute observations about you and it’s throwing you off your game. You barely know this man and you’ve always been good at keeping yourself aloof and vague. Yet, he seems to read you like you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

“Feel free to…” he’s already made himself comfortable somewhere in the back and you trail off. “Look around,” you finish lamely. His form is lost somewhere in stacks of books and cluttered shelves. 

You know most of the classics and history books are kept towards the back. You wonder if he’s reminiscing or getting a headstart before he gets back to his time. You smile at the thought and walk behind the counter, sitting on the stool and preparing to finish off the rest of the day.

Leopold is still somewhere lost to you an hour later. Occasionally you’ll hear a page flip or the clatter of a book being reshelved, but there are no other signs of life. Not until the bell above the door rings. 

“Clark,” you smile, sitting up straighter as your friend walks through the door. “What’re you doing here?”

He gives you a crooked grin and shrugs. Just over his shoulder, you can see Leopold’s head pop over a shelf, he looks between you both, eyes narrowing with disdain. “Paul told me you’d be here, figured you might want some company.”

“Actually-” you start, but another voice cuts you off. 

“Leopold Mountbatten,” he comes around the corner, hand outstretched as he comes in between you and Clark. “And who might you be?”

Your brows furrow in confusion at the interaction. Leopold seems oddly hostile and Clark looks strangely caught off guard. “Um, Clark. Nice to meet you, man.” He shakes Leopold’s hand but his grip is weak and it only lasts for one awkward half-second. 

It’s uncomfortable to watch them try and interact and it only gets worse when they turn towards you. Clearly, they want you to tell them who the hell the other guy is. But you feel like that might just make the situation worse. 

Besides, you were pretty content with it just being you and Leopold, you don’t need Clark coming in here and riling things up. “You know, Clark, I’m set here. You can just go home.” Your tone leaves no room for argument but you know he wants to. 

“Alright, I’ll just call you later, I guess.” He throws one last skeptical look at Leopold before finally slinking back out of the shop. 

“Neither of you should be alone without a chaperone present.” Leopold bluntly scolds you without even waiting a second before Clark is gone. It catches you off guard and you scoff. 

You motion between the two of you, “We don’t have a chaperone.” 

Leopold shrugs, “Yes, well, I’m not courting you.” It shouldn’t, because he’s right, but that stings. He is attractive, surprisingly so. You have this odd belief that anyone from his century had to be at least a little ugly. But he’s near perfect. 

Hearing him tell you so bluntly that you’re not courting hurts a little. Though, you can’t blame him. You must be dramatically different than the women he’s used to. From your manners to how you dress, you’re practically an alien. 

You stand up from behind the counter and walk towards the cart of books that need to be shelved. “Clark is a friend. Nothing more.” You’ve never once been romantically interested in your friend. He’s attractive, but he’s not really your type.

Apparently, British men from the nineteenth century are. Which does not bode well for your romantic prospects once Leopold is back home. “It is plain for anyone to see how he wants you. Don’t let yourself be blinded by naivete.”

“Naivete?” you scoff and turn around to glare at him. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me, alright? I’m not some maiden in a frilly dress who needs a chaperone.” You can see that your words affect him. He looks a little taken aback by your anger and so are you. 

It’s misplaced. You’re not mad at him, just mad that you even like him. “Just go read or something, Leopold.” You dismiss him more rudely than necessary and hide yourself behind a few shelves. The rest of your workday is spent in a tense silence that makes your stomach churn. 

You’re nearly ready for bed when something slips under your door with a slight whoosh. You turn towards it, frowning when you see a little envelope with a wax seal on the ground. You pick it up and let your finger slip under the paper, opening it to find a letter with your name on it inside. 

The handwriting is impeccable, with a gracefulness to it that you’ve never seen before. You don’t have to read for very long to know who it's from. Leopold writes poetry about the color of your eyes and the way your lips curl when you smile. And then he ends it with a vague, nearly ominous, invitation to dinner. 

You can’t help but smile to yourself, changing out of your pajamas and slipping into something a little nicer. A few minutes later you’re climbing out your window and taking the stairs up the fire escape to the roof. 

You don’t believe your ears at first, thinking the music must be coming from another apartment. But when you make it up to the roof there’s a violin player there waiting for you. He smiles happily at you as you approach. 

You spin in a slow circle, taking in the sheer amount of flowers littered around the roof. You don’t know how he managed to afford all of this. He transformed the barren and empty rooftop into your own little paradise. Candles lit and a live musician playing for you. 

You’ve never had anyone do something like this for you, ever. It’s a little hard to accept that someone would be willing to put this much effort in for you. “I wasn’t entirely sure you would come.”

You turn around and Leopold is waiting behind you, that familiar smile playing on his lips. You aren’t aware of the grin forming on your face in response. You don’t have much control over that when you’re with him. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He looks like he wants to respond but at the last moment thinks better of it. He instead pulls your chair out for you, helping you into your seat. “This is nice,” that feels too underwhelming a word for such an incredible gesture. 

You sigh and frown as you try and find the right words. You don’t notice him sitting down across from you. You only look up when you feel him placing his hand on your own. “It’s alright,” he assures you. 

It’s still so odd how he can know you so well after such little time. “This is incredible,” you tell him, undeterred by his attempts to soothe you. “No one’s ever done something like this for me.”

He looks like he takes personal offense to that and it makes you laugh. “You deserve far more than this. Sadly, it seems Stuart’s pockets do have limits and I’m afraid I would have put him into debt if I’d gone any further.”

You have the perfect mental image of Stuart coming back from the hospital only to find his science project has robbed him. It makes you laugh and you squeeze his hand once before drawing it back into your lap. He lets his touch linger on you for a long moment, seemingly reluctant to pull away. 

“No,” you tell him, “this is perfect.” 

You fall into a comfortable silence for a little while. Conversation mostly drifting toward what his life was like as a duke. You don’t have much to say about your own life. It’s been incredibly normal and you’re a little sad to find that you don’t have one good thing to share with him. 

Nothing comes to the front of your mind. 

Inevitably, you drift into the topic you’d both been so adamantly avoiding. “Has Stuart said when you’d need to return?”

Leopold’s grip on the fork tightens and for a moment he refuses to meet your eye. “Monday, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” your eyes widen and you feel something burning at the back of your throat. Monday, the same Monday that’s two days away. 

“Dance with me,” the suddenness of the demand catchers you so off guard that you forget the tears. He stands, holding out his hand to you. You almost say no, you can’t remember the last time you danced and you doubt it’s going to be pretty. 

But he whispers your name and something about his tone tells you to take the chance while you have it. You slip your hand into his, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn’t sweep you off your feet and dance the night away. 

Instead, he holds you close and you sway together. Like moving even an inch away from each other would hurt. “You could come with me,” he tells you. And you know immediately what he’s talking about. 

You also know it could never happen. Going to the nineteenth century is insane. Even considering it should be enough to have you sent to a psych ward somewhere. Especially not for a man you’ve known for less than a month. 

You try and tell him that you can’t, but he stops you. “I know, a preposterous idea. I just wanted to think about it.” You look up at him and find that you can’t take that away from him. There’s nothing wrong with imagining what it could be like with him. Even when you know it can never happen. 

You dance like that for a little while longer, swaying against each other while the violin plays in the background. He whispers your name and when you gaze up at him this time, there’s a certain look in his eye that you know is reflected in your own. 

He dips down, lips caressing yours gently before he’s pushing more firmly against your own. The world stops. Cliche, you’re aware. For the first time in years, though, you’re alive. You feel something other than the dull monotony of life. You feel excited and terrified all at once. Because you know you can never have this feeling again. 

You will never meet another man like Leopold who ignites this spark of life and passion within you. Never has a man been able to make you doubt every decision you’ve ever made with just a kiss, but here he is. 

Your arms lift like you might try and draw him in closer. His hands come up, taking yours in his gentle hold and squeezing. He pulls away from you and reality comes crashing back down. You’re not in love, you can’t be. You’ve only just met him a few days ago. 

Yet, here you are, wondering if you might actually want to leave everything behind to be with him like the great romances authors write about. He smiles at you and there’s a bittersweetness to it, a final farewell that you know will break whatever is left of your heart. 

He lifts your knuckles to his lips, pressing his lips against them like he never wants to part. “Goodnight,” he whispers your name and backs away from you. You watch him go, watch him leave, unable to muster up any words for him. 

You can’t think of anything that would ease this gnawing ache inside of you. Nothing to soothe the pain for either of you. You let him go because you know if you asked him to stay he would. And how selfish of you would it be to let history unravel simply because you fell in love? 

Monday. It is Monday. You’ve been coming to terms with that all weekend. You don't want to think about the fact that Leopold will be gone tonight. Your time together was so brief but you feel like you’re never going to get over losing him. 

Before the night was over on Sunday, a note was slipped under your door. This handwriting was messy, it made you think someone other than Leopold had written it down, but you don’t know who it could have been. 

It was a date and time, jump off the Brooklyn Bridge at this time on Monday night. Only an idiot would jump off a bridge because of an ominous note slipped under her door. But you haven’t been able to take your eyes off of it, not since you first picked it up. 

Leopold had invited you to go with him. And while you might not have said no, the insinuation was clear. Your eyes dart to your clock. If you left now, you could still make it in time. What an absolutely ridiculous thought. 

So, why are you running out the door without locking it? Why do you not care who slips into your home now? There’s this sense of finality within you that lets you know you’re never going to see that place again and that’s okay. 

You never truly felt comfortable in your life. You always thought a part of yourself was missing. Or that you were always running late for something. You think you understand what you were feeling now. 

The thing you’ve been searching for your whole life wasn’t halfway across the world, a hundred thousand miles from you. He was on the wrong side of time, or you were, at least. 

You manage to snag a taxi to get to the bridge but there’s a traffic jam. You’re forced to jump out of the car and run through the different lanes of blocked traffic. People shout at you. Your cab driver screaming after you about your fare. You don’t care, the only thing you can think about is the note crumpled in your hands and the clock counting down how long you have to jump. 

You’ll either be on the news tomorrow as an unfortunate suicide. An idiot who accidentally threw herself off the wrong side of the bridge. Or, you’ll see Leopold again. 

You reach the ledge and you can’t hesitate. If you do, you won’t jump in time. You close your eyes, holding your breath like you’re jumping into your neighbor’s pool. Air rushes around you, whipping at your hair and skin violently. 

It’s not until you hear someone shouting down at you that you realize you’re not dead. You’re lying in the middle of a dirt road, a group of people staring down at you with concern in their eyes. 

You only have to take in the clothes they’re wearing to know you’ve made it. Before they can react you’re leaping to your feet and running off. You know you’re near the Brooklyn Bridge, or where it’s supposed to be at least. You know enough about the area to remember where Leopold’s house is supposed to be. 

You’re covered in sweat and red mud. The people you pass by in the streets hide behind their hands and whisper about you. You’re not making a good impression on your future neighbors, that’s for sure. But, honestly, all you care about is making it back to him. 

You see people congregating outside his uncle’s home. You know there’s a party inside, that he’s supposed to be announcing who his wife will be. You barrel through the people outside, shoving through the crowd and running up the steps of the house. 

You can hear Leopold’s voice as you run, “The woman I’m going to take as my wife is-”

There’s a loud gasp as you come panting into the room. You can’t catch your breath long enough to speak but it doesn’t matter. The crowd is parting around you and Leopold is smiling down at you. He says your name and there’s nothing else that matters about the world around you. Not when you finally found each other. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie Kate & Leopold, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[girlkisser13]

being married to bruce wayne would include

• galas, charities, balls, etc. become more a part of your life than you probably ever wanted them to be.

• once you two officially become a couple, you become gotham’s "it" couple. whether you want to or not.

• in the press, the two of you are often depicted as gotham royalty.

• even before the two of you start dating, you swear you feel someone's presence at night whenever you walk home from work.

• it wasn't until a mugger attempted to steal your purse that you finally learned where that feeling of being watched had been coming from.

• when the dark knight told you to be mindful of your surroundings and to hurry home before swooping away into the night, you could only nod with widened eyes.

• you didn’t say anything until you got home, to be honest, you geeking out: it’s not every day that someone gets to meet "the batman".

• you gleefully call your boyfriend about it. he doesn’t answer it until later, but you can hear a smirk in his voice as he responds to you fangirling.

• eventually, you find out about his identity on accident.

• as expected, you’re a little upset. someone you were romantically involved with was masquerading around town dressed like every night was halloween, getting into dangerous situations.

• after the two of you talk about it, you begin to understand why he does it and while you may not necessarily agree with some of his more controversial methods, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride that he’s putting everything at risk just to make sure what happened to him doesn’t happen to anyone else.

• alfred always reports to you first whenever something happens to bruce, knowing how much he truly means to you.

• you’re the one he listens to the most (even more than alfred) when it comes to what he should be doing whether it be a complicated mission or something as simple as eating a much needed meal.

• most of the time you would find yourself waiting at a restaurant for an hour before he would text you that he can’t make it because he’s being held up.

• when he does show up, he’s late, he looks like a mess, and he greets you with a lop-sided smile and half-lidded eyes. and you melt because you remember that he did choose you and you do love him.

• bruce’s absence is always outweighed by his affection. he loves touching you even if it’s just your shoulders or your fingers or your elbows. he always finds a way to be close to you when you’re together.

• he’s always trying to make up for the lost time with you by getting you expensive gifts and trips, only for you to reassure him that he doesn’t need to do all this.

• you’re always able to tell when he’s had a particularly rough night. his usual silence feels different; heavier.

• he becomes a lot more handsy with you, more affectionate. as if you’re the last flower in a prized garden and he never noticed until now.

• if you’re asleep by the time he gets back, you may get woken up by him caressing your cheek, rubbing a thumb over your hand, or him putting his big arms around you to pull you in close.

• one of your favorite things though is definitely seeing the family. most of the time you see alfred and always try to tease recipes out of him which expertly deflects.

• whenever the bat kids are at the manor, he invites you because they love you and he knows you love them too.

• dick constantly flirts with you and teases you and bruce. you love to play along with him because it makes bruce very uncomfortable.

• he finally proposes to you after three years of the kids telling him to do so. you obviously say yes.

• the two of you decide to have a small, private ceremony at the manor. friends and family only.

• bruce 100% cries as soon as he sees you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress.

• alfred volunteers to be the wedding planner, because he always knew that you would be the future mrs. wayne. <33

[ylangelegy]

⋆.˚ svt as formula one drivers ♡︎ soonyoung, wonwoo, joshua.

── .✦ 01. the one where soonyoung is enamored by a fan. 02. the one where wonwoo falls for a journalist. 03. the one where joshua has someone at home waiting for him.

✰ fluff, light angst [blink and you'll miss it], competitive!soonyoung, in denial!wonwoo, boyfriend!joshua, formula one references, svt ensemble, all sfw. intentional lowercase.

THE ONE WITH SOONYOUNG.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who started off as a street racer, who has always been a bit reckless when it comes to practically everything.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who signs with alpine alongside jihoon; if jihoon is ice, then soonyoung is fire. they make it work.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who is an absolute devil on the grid. he may not always place well in the championship standings, but he will give everyone hell before they can overtake him.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who's just a little bit controversial for flirting with audience members, whether they're a fan of alpine or not. what can he say? he's a thrill-seeker, and there is some thrill in all the pretty people who want to get with a racer.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who is all that until he meets a fan who just— shuts him up. he's struck dumb by you, which is a tall feat. love at first sight is a cruel twist of fate for someone as impulsive as he is.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who just can't do it, who can't flirt with you the way he has with the dozens of onlookers in the grandstands. it frustrates him. he literally races for a living, and yet you have his heart hammering in his chest like he's some goddamn fool.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who does end up kind of acting like a fool in front of you once he thinks he has enough courage to strike up a conversation. he hits you with an outdated pick-up line and is mortified at how terribly the conversation goes. (jihoon never lets soonyoung live this down.)

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who gets a bit sulky when he realizes you're not there for him, per se. you're a fan of some other team, some other driver. he absolutely hates it.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who stumbles over his words when he attempts to change your mind, who only grows more and more frustrated as you cheer on the cars shuttling past him.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who decides that the best way to go about this is to do the one thing he does best: drive.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who gets even more unpredictable, who finally starts actually winning races instead of just driving for the sake of it. jihoon is impressed, and the other drivers are disgruntled, but soonyoung only really cares about one opinion.

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who— drenched in champagne after winning at the monaco grand prix— finds you in the paddock clubs. "did you see?" he asks you, his helmet tucked under one arm. "were you watching?"

🏁 f1 driver soonyoung who says, "keep your eyes on me, baby. i'm going to be winning a whole lot more."

THE ONE WITH WONWOO.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who knows better than anyone that the car maketh the man, and so he keeps up with all the tech as he tears through race after race.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who is the face of mclaren. he signs with mingyu— a non-negotiable in all of his contracts. the two are formidable on the grid, but are best friends away it.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who hates the media circus, honestly. that had always been more of mingyu's thing. wonwoo has to endure it all the same because it's part of his job, because he wins races and reporters always want to hear from the winners.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who doesn't mind one reporter, honestly. you're efficient. you're professional. you ask questions that make him think.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who unintentionally makes you enemy number one among all the f1 journalists, because he's always calling on you when he gets the chance.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who will lean in just a little too close (to hear you better, he'll reason). who will nod in all the right places as you ask your question (he's being polite, he says).

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who is teased relentlessly by mingyu, because of all the people that wonwoo could've fallen for, it's someone who's just doing their job.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who calls mingyu absurd. he is not in love. ("a crush, then?" mingyu insists, but wonwoo shakes that off, too. he's a man in his late twenties. he wasn't supposed to get crushes.)

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who is reading one of your articles on his phone and smiling at the little icon featuring your face when he realizes, fuck. oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who buries himself in studying about race strategy and aerodynamics, like he might find the answers there. he starts only answering the reporter questions he hates. about the weather, about car conditions, about his cat back at home.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who has to be cornered and confronted by mingyu, who realizes immediately that wonwoo is trying desperately to shift gears.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who is here to win, who is here to represent mclaren, who can't bear to be distracted by a sharp tongue and a pretty face. right? right? he tells mingyu all that as he paces the pit box, as he tugs at the tips of his fire-resistant gloves.

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who has to be reminded, gently, by mingyu, "hyung, you're allowed to want more than one thing."

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who, the next time he sees you, flips the script. "you're always asking me questions. i'm allowed to ask you one of my own, don't you think?"

🚥 f1 driver wonwoo who swears it's worse than racing— the feeling in his chest when he finally manages to choke out, "what does a guy have to do to take you to dinner?"

THE ONE WITH JOSHUA.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who started karting at the young age of six, who was practically born in to the life of motorsports.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who carves out a space for himself in mercedes. his partner vernon has nothing but praise for him. joshua, after all, is the picture perfect mercedes driver: sleek, sophisticated, meticulous.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who— single-minded as he is— is still controlled and efficient. who has never crashed in his career. who would rather lose than put himself in danger.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who does all this because he knows there's someone back at home (or in the stands, if it's a particularly good prix), absolutely scared shitless.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who would give it all up for you in a heartbeat. would it suck? yes. but he would. you have to know that. all you have to do is ask.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who appreciates that you never ask. he knows you worry, knows he's probably shortened your lifespan with all the anxiety he's put you through, and yet you never make him choose. he is so, so grateful.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who is relentlessly excellent and pedantically careful because he owes you that much. it is his one promise to himself; his quiet vow to you. the red flags will never be for him.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who is criticized for playing things safe, for giving too much way to vernon. joshua merely shrugs and smiles and thinks of you, and how he's just excited to be back in your arms once this goddamn season is over.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who still wins, every so often, because he really is good. just cautious. and when he does win— when he's the one with the champagne bottle and the gold trophy and all the cameras trained at him— there's only one thing he looks for.

🏆 f1 driver joshua who will jump off the podium to find you, or point straight at a camera broadcasting live to reach you, as if to say, look; i'm in one piece. i'm fine. i did it. i'm fine. i love you. i'm fine.

[altf4d3lete]

My Thoughts on the Wednesday Novelization:

Okay so I have no clue how long this post is going to be, so bear with me. This is coming from someone who has been hyperfixated on the show for over a year and has watched it through multiple times, written fanfiction about it, and debated the characters and their motivations tirelessly.

1. Characterization

First up is the big hitter. The characterization of Wednesday specifically, since the book is written in her voice. I’ve seen a lot of controversy surrounding this. A lot of people have been saying that Wednesday was too emotional, that she was too sympathetic and cared too much about what other people think. To this, I heartily disagree.

We see throughout the book how she gradually begins caring more about the others around her. At first, she sees them only as allies; which is a very Wednesday thing to do. She only compromises because people like Enid or Tyler offer her loyalty, and she feels the need to offer something in return. And of course, the more they offer her their loyalty, the more she feels as though she can open up to them. She’s still human, after all, Addams or not. While most people would assume (wrongly) that Wednesday operated on a strictly “take, not give” mentality, it’s clear in the show itself that this isn’t the case. She still compromises in the show. The only reason people don’t agree now is because they created their own perceptions on why Wednesday was compromising, while it was clear to others all along that this was because she wanted to keep her allies close in case she needed help.

Wednesday, in the novelization, approaches everything from a strategical standpoint. Which is exactly how I’d expect her to approach things. She keeps a careful catalogue of her enemies and suspects, of who she can or can’t trust with evidence. Which, again, is what I had gathered from Jenna’s acting in the show.

Concerning the care she felt for Enid, among others:

I do not think the way she felt about Enid or the way their relationship developed was out of character at all. Wednesday said it herself, it felt to her as though Enid was the only one who accepted her up front no matter who she was or what she said or did. Enid was the only one who didn’t expect her to be someone else or a simple projection of what she wanted. Wednesday appreciated Enid’s willingness to be an ally even knowing that Wednesday wasn’t a good person. And it caused her to grow attached to the one person who accepted her no matter what. Even when Wednesday put her in danger, Enid still came back. And Wednesday appreciated that more than anything. I really think it’s incorrect to say that it’s out of character how much Wednesday cared about Enid. Enid was Wednesday’s first real friend, and put her life on the line for Wednesday. Of course they’re going to be inseparable, in Wednesday’s words, after something like that.

2. Theme

I’ve read a lot of books and done a lot of English classes and writing in my time. I usually look for themes in books, and it’s pretty clear to me that the theme of this book is friendship and navigating it, as corny as that sounds.

The entire book follows Wednesday learning what it means to be a true friend. What it means to open up and be vulnerable with others, what it means to put trust and confidence in them, and what it means to rely on others. Towards the end, there’s a passage where she realizes she’s never been alone.

In this book, Wednesday learned what it means to grow and foster a community of people who care about you. People who you can rely on. She comes to care about Enid, Eugene, even Bianca. All of them help her in some way, and all of them give her a shoulder to rely on at some point. She learns that having allies are nice, but having friends, people who are truly in your corner, is even better. And that there are specific ways to treat friends, and specific ways to keep them. She learned that sometimes compromises are important, and that it’s okay to not agree with some things, but it doesn’t mean that has to be the end of the friendship. And she learned just how deeply her care for her friends, as well as their care for her, truly goes.

One could say that this book is corny. One could say that it’s cringe, or that it’s not canon to them. All of that is completely fine. But in my eyes, this book has absolutely done Wednesday’s character justice and proven what I already knew: she’s not a psychopath like so many people paint her out to be. Maybe she was in previous iterations, but this is a new iteration, a new character. And she most definitely cares deeply about those who show their loyalty to her, about those who prove to her that they can trust her. Enid, Thing, Eugene, even Bianca. They created a sense of community to battle a common enemy and won. And Wednesday learned that she couldn’t have done it on her own.

I’m excited to see how her character continues to develop in season 2 and further. I’m excited to see how those around her affect her in new ways, and who she’ll ultimately grow to be. I loved this novelization of season one, and I loved the insight it gave us into Wednesday’s thoughts and her character arcs.

Anyway! That’s all, thanks for reading 🫶

Edit: my bad this turned into an essay. If I missed anything or you want my opinion on anything, let me know :)

[wonuwrites]

MTL Seventeen NSFW: dom in public and private vs just in private. SFW: do things like protect you from yourself, like clumsiness or hitting corner or whatever!! When you have the chance. No rush ❤️❤️

oooo I like this~ I'll do the NSFW one first then will do a seperate one for the SFW :D Warning: we are getting horny so MINORS DNI or else. smut warning. mentions of petnames, domming, subbing, brat taming, simping, etc.

p.s I didn't really reread everything but I tried my best. If I fucked up any spelling or anything please lmk <3

p.s.s sorry this took forever D:

Dom In Public && Private

Most:

• S. Coups I mean, let's be honest for a hot second. He is daddy. He is a brat tamer, he is such an alpha type. You just look at him and you know he wears the pants.

In public, he will always have a protective hand on you. If you are somehow separated, his eyes are always glued to you. You are just his to protect and heaven forbid someone who was dumber than dirt tried to flirt or even say "hello" to you. They will get the death glare from you and he will be by your side before you can even respond.

In private, I see him to be really into worship/soft dom. I feel like he gives "scary" or "hard dom" vibes but to me... he's just a simp lmfaoooo. When y'all have sex he wants to make sure you are happy and pleased. I don't see him really being mean unless he needs to fuck the stress out or if you did something in public that set him off and he needed to show you who was in charge. If he ever did get rough, expect a lot of romantic aftercare where he is very soft with you. It would be different from the Seungcheol who was balls deep just a second or so ago I tell you what.

• Woozi This might be a controversial take but honestly it makes sense. Jihoon has a gaze that screams dom. Especially if involved you? People would know you were Jihoon's and Jihoon was yours.

In public, he would be a lot less touchy then Seungcheol. He isn't a fan of PDA as it is but he would always be next to you and would always have you close by. If you were to be a brat or if anyone looked at you a way, one look from Jihoon would have you by his side and the other person backing the fuck up.

In private, it would depend on his mood but almost always played the dominant role. Sometimes he would be subby if you had been a good girl/good boy. However, he loved to be in charge and be the reason behind your moans. He would love to watch your face scrunch and hear you scream his name. It was music to his ears.

• Mingyu This husky, golden retriever, whatever the fuck is such a clingy dominate person. It's the Aries in him. Like before I even knew he was an Aries, I could just tell. He's so husband, protective, and such a stud muffin and when it came to you, he would make sure everyone knew who you belonged to.

In public, I can see him kissing you in front of others just to remind everyone that you were his. He tried his best not to be but he could get jealous pretty easily. So he would love if you were wearing his clothes in public or if there was hickey on your neck. He'd find it so attractive. If you happened to brat while in public, he'd laugh it off but pull you closer and say "just you wait until we get home Jagi." njftgijftgiewhb.

In private, it depends if he is jealous and bossy or happy and horny. He is one of the boys that's mostly excited to be involved (lmao) but when he gets into his jealous and bossy modes he won't go easy. One of the first conversations you had when first talking about sex was a safe word because he knew he wanted to push you to your limits when he was in this mood. He's the type to ask "who is making you feel this good? Not that bastard. It's me." lmaooo lord help me I just got biased wrecked by my own writing. pls hekppppp

• Wonwoo I feel like a lot of writers claim Wonwoo to be one of the most dominant members in Seventeen and trust me I agree. However, I feel like he shows his dominance more in secret and private but if you brat it up in public, oh ho ho. good luck bestie. In public, people would just know that Wonwoo and you were a couple and not because of PDA or anything like that. Wonwoo wouldn't be like Mingyu and kiss you in front of everyone but he would stare. Like, if you were at a party or something like that, he would be watching. If you were talking to anyone he would be staring and make sure they and you knew and remembered who you belonged to. If you had decided to be bratty and fake flirt with someone. You would feel his hand wrap around your waist and he'd cut the conversation short and well... you both would be going somewhere private asap so he could remind you again who was in charge.

In private, ahahahaha cue kinky tumblr posts about this man lmaooo. They say the quiet ones are the freaks and yeah he is. Like Seungcheol, he's a brat tamer. tbh i think out of all of Seventeen he is the best with Seuncheol or Joshua following close behind but that's a discussion for another time lmaooo. Anywhore, Wonwoo would be a soft dom, a hard dom, a kinky dom, anything dom tbh. He would want you to feel good and it makes him feel good to be in control.

• Jeonghan This angel is also a demon, we know this. However, his dominance isn't in a sexual or "it is I who wears the pants in this relationship" type of way. It's more of him showing that he is playing the role of boyfriend and wanting to protect you. It's more of a caregiver type of vibe then a "I wanna rip Y/N's clothes off right when possible" which he does but shh but more of a "this is my person who I love more than anything else in this world. In public, you both would be near each other and would hold hands whenever possible. He'd be so domestically dom where he would hold doors open for you when you were going into buildings. When you would go into cars he would put his hand above your head so you wouldn't hit your head. He'd just be such a gentleman where his actions just proved to you and others how much he loves you.

In private, oh me oh my. It depends on the mood but honestly I see him as a silly lover but when he gets really really turned on where his eyes darken with lust, he will take care of you in ways that go beyond your own fantasies. Hell, even his own. The way he would fuck you into oblivion would be both romantic and kinky as hell. You loved getting manhandled by him, especially since it was so rare for him to do so.

• Hoshi Ok, so Soonyoung is such a touchy and clingy bitch which is why I say he'd act dom both in public and private. I feel like he would not be afraid to show you off and let you be bejeweled. (sorry listening to Taylor Swift rn my other hyperfixation LOL) He also would not be afraid of showing others that you both were together.

In public, his hands would ALWAYS be on you or near you. They would roam constantly, Your hand would be in his, his hand would be on your thigh, his hand would be on the small of your back or hell even on your hips. When I say everywhere I literally mean E V E R Y W H E R E. There would be no chance for you to brat or do anything to make him get a little possessive which was completely fine. If you were to kiss him at the event y'all were at and some of your lip gloss or lipstick stained his lips he would not wipe it off at all.

In private, I can see him being all about you. He'd be a lot like Seungcheol where he would be so needy and soft dom. I do also think he is part of the line where he is just happy to be involved lmaooo. Your sex life with Soonyoung would be fun. A lot of giggles and love were shown in your sessions. The times where it would be rough-er, he would use his horanghe instincts i'm not sorry and would just ruin you.

LEAST:

• Seungkwan I feel like Seungkwan is such a shy bean when it comes to being in love with his pookie but he also is a silly goose. I feel like his "dom"ness in public would be more of a meme but he also would stand his ground if he really had to.

In public, people would know you were together but not because of skin ship or stares like the previous guys. They would see your playful banter and the chemistry was just chemistry-ing. If some poor soul thought to try to hit on you, Seungkwan would either side eye and intervene or just laugh. No in between imo.

In private, I see him more of a switch. idk why but I can see y'all doing rock paper scissors before sex sometimes just to see who is doing what lmao. Winner of these rock paper scissors would be the dominant one. When he won, he would attempt to get into character and honestly, you would laugh in his face and he would prove to you how domkwan he could be.

next part lol

DOM ONLY IN PRIVATE

MOST:

• Joshua Oh Shua, Shua, Shua. I know some might put him in the previous category sometimes but I think not. I think he is more of a "wait until we get home" type of fella. His eyes would do the thing he does and that's when you would know you were in for a fun night.

In private, it is a bit hard to predict what Jisoo would do. He's fucking insane but in the best way. I could see him pinning you against a wall as soon as y'all got home and would say shit like "oh, so you think you're single huh? Think it's time for your reminder of who you belong with." If he was jealous or upset, he would like to dom just to prove to both of you that your relationship was secure. I feel like he is one of the more hopeless romantics of Seventeen.

• Minghao Minghao is honestly such a lover boy and honestly both of you are wrapped around each others finger. I feel like when it comes to relationships, he wouldn't mind showing you off in public but acting "dom" in public would not be something he would want to do. I feel like he'd want to let you be your own person and he would just be there for the ride. If anything he'd look more like a simp and just give heart eyes

In private, brat tamer. He knew how to keep you in your place especially if you were being a little shit. He'd be the type to giggle at your actions before pinning you to a wall and asking you to "come again, baby?" If you bratted in private, he was all about it because he knew you only did that if you were in a subby mood. If you were bratting in public, the bedroom would be even spicier because "it's like that huh?" ewhjrbewuOB lmao

• Jun He's quiet. Highkey, from my expertise of whoreology the quiet ones are the most freakiest and I can see Jun being a switch but more dom leaning. He wouldn't show it in front of others because he's shy but oh me oh my. You knew how dom he could be when it was just you two.

In private, he would be about you. Whether he was domming or subbing it was always about you. He was so curious about you. He was like Seungcheol in a way where when domming where he was soft and just worship you. When domming he'd be a smiling mess and would just love teasing the shit out of you. Honestly, in bed he'd be such a shit but neither of your friends would guess it lmaoooo

• Dokyeom Ok so Seokmin has his moments but this man is such a simp. If anything, you gave off the "dom" vibes in the relationship LOL. I feel like you both would be so down bad in your relationship it was almost too sweet. Seokmin would do anything for you, but domming in public? I could see an attempt happening once but it would end up in both of y'all in hysterics because ????

In private, if you wanted to be dominated Seokmin would dominate you. Sub/dom roles aren't a necessity in your relationship or sex life and that's not a problem. When Seokmin dommed, he would love to have you in missionary while holding your hands and just making love to you. When he was topping, he would make sure you were okay and was just such a soft dom. He would worry about doing hard dom stuff like Mingyu, Seungcheol, or Wonwoo. He would need you to basically beg on your knees and promise him 194676 times that you would tell him if he went too rough.

• Dino Like Mingyu, Soonyoung, Jun, and Dokyeom he is also someone that is usually just happy to be involved lmao. He is very soft and shows that he is with you in public but it's not in a "she's mine fuck off" type of way like some of the others would be. It was more of a "I'm down bad for my baby" type of vibe aww

In private, similarly to Seokmin, I can't really see dom/sub being a super prominent thing in your sex lives. I get that is a hot take but idk, I feel like Chan is a silly lover like Jeonghan. Actually I see him being very similar to Jeonghan. However, when Chan would want to be more "Dom" it would because you joined in with "bullying"/"teasing" him with his hyungs. When y'all get home he would start off with "hmm (Y/N) you think you are so funny huh?" then he'd take you to bed real quick.

LEAST:

• Vernon Look, Hansol is also apart of the "I'm just happy to be involved line." In general, his love language would be so subtle that sometimes it would seem like y'all were more besties then together. However, you both understood where you stood and honestly that was all the mattered.

In private, I can't see him being dom at all. I don't really see him even being a sub. When y'all were doing the do, it was mostly making love and pretty vanilla. I can see it being a bunch of goofiness too with a lot of kisses and I love yous. He'd just be so soft and down bad in bed. It's honestly so cute. lmao Vernon soft sex drabble coming soon?

this was so much fun, please send more MTL if you see this <33

[zzencat]

5 Urgent Messages You Need To Hear Right Now - Current ⌛️

5 bullet points. Raw, honest, and on the go. What do you need to hear right now? Includes: what to work on, what to be wary of, warnings, hints, potential downsides + rock-bottom consequences.

For better accuracy: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

From left to right. Breathe and choose.

——————————-

Pile 1. Not all is what they seem.

if something seems suspicious or too good to be true, it probably is. you can either gain or lose what you have.

some of you will be greatly rewarded for your hard work. beware of who you share your abundance with. be even more careful with the information.

someone you know is two-faced. be careful who you trust. (for most of you, this is someone you know but feel indifferent towards or don’t consider close.)

keep an eye on your material possessions, especially ones that others may envy. don’t leave valuable things around without surveillance.

something that tempts you should be reconsidered—especially with money. weigh your options. count the pros and cons.

Hints: look for the signs, laziness, liars, manipulation, sneaking around, stealing, caught red-handed, someone acting poor, colleagues, fake friends, seemingly likable colleagues, greediness, homelessness (3x), people in power, parents, offers, scams, impulsive spending, pretending to care, bad and hidden intentions, fire signs, scams.

+ failing to do so results in: isolation, fear, anxiety, social withdrawal, unceasing paranoia, loss.

————————————

Pile 2. It’s time to grow up.

laziness is an issue. put effort in your work and prioritize your time wisely.

revenge is not worth it. this is a wake up call to mature and practice humility.

you are worth as much as everyone else. no one is higher or lower. death takes everyone either way.

not everything has to be a fight. not everyone is out to get you. work on defensiveness. learn to let go.

doing more research improves open-mindedness. don’t be afraid to be wrong.

Hints: wasting time on small issues; pettiness; too much time on social media; purposefully engaging in controversial topics; immaturity; gossip; sudden aggression or anger; playing up one’s own importance; merely one among billions; holding grudges; big ego; spoiled; hard time saying sorry; owning up to mistakes; nepotism; the wrong connections; narrow-mindedness, inability to accept criticism or differing views and opinions.

+ failing to do so may result in: being too competitive, poverty/unstable income, irresponsible, ignorant, “puppet,” that people laugh at, no close friends/family, missed opportunities, no control in life, boredom, ignoring hard facts and truths, lacking uniqueness, sheep of the herd, having no dreams, not achieving much, lack of focus, poor social life and skills, jumping on the bandwagon, poor mindset, unlikable personality traits, disingenuous, misery.

——————————

Pile 3. Balance is key.

take breaks from time to time (especially the workaholics.)

rebalance your life. too much of anything is bad.

work on confidence and self-esteem issues.

moving too fast isn’t always a good thing. you will miss what’s happening in the background.

become more resilient. learn to bounce back from bad situations or inconveniences. prepare for sudden heartbreaks.

Hints: not having enough time to appreciate what’s around you; relationship resentment; sudden losses; self- negligence; waiting until it’s too late; stability requires effort; not making time for others in your life; make time for yourself; not considering mental and physical health.

+ failing to do so may result in: unknowingly losing a connection, poor work-life balance, (I’m hearing static- idk why…), not giving attention to loved ones, unintentionally negligent, loneliness, poor adaptation skills, being forced to watch something inevitably fall apart, betrayal, dwelling in sadness, ghosting, confusion, neglected mental health, too long of a hiatus, stagnancy, poor health, poor-to-no social life, no growth in character, absolute ruin.

——————————

**Ending Teddy Note: Hey guys! Hopefully you took something from the reading. These were tough deliveries, but they had to be said. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. Reblog or lemme know what you think. I appreciate the feedback. Rmr to stay hydrated!! 😎✌️

[angelicdanvers]

BREATHE DEEPER | five.

a charlie bushnell x fem!reader social media fic.

levizmiller

liked by y/n, dior.n.goodjohn, leahsavajeffries, and others

levizmiller — she won at pool. again.

tagged | y/n

y/n hey at least we got drinks ↳ levizmiller true ↳ walker.scobell YOU CAN DRINK??? ↳ y/n technically yes BUT i settle for virgins

dior.n.goodjohn best duo loading?! ↳ levizmiller YES

user i lowk shipp ↳ user2 nah they prob friends ↳ user3 ay no need to speculate 😭

y/n

liked by levizmiller, dior.n.goodjohn, walker.scobell, and others

y/n — prep for the jumpscare at the end

tagged | levizmiller

levizmiller 😭

walker.scobell i wanna be your age ↳ y/n in like five years buddy

walker.scobell also levizmiller your physique is ELITE ↳ levizmiller thank you walker :)

leahsavajeffries YOU GUYS ARE SO COOL ↳ y/n that’s our goal >:)

iamcharliebushnell hope ur having fun! ↳ y/n thanks!

dior.n.goodjohn YOURE SO HOT ↳ y/n BABES YOU ALL YOU

user2 not charlie becoming less and less consistent ↳ user4 fr man this is sad

GALILEO’S GALS

forbidden child added cutie patootie

↳ HI ARYAN OKAY SO UH I NEED YALLS HELP i think you guys were right

cutie patootie aw what’s wrong?

chanel’s enemy uh oh

↳ yeaaah so is charlie mad at me??? for hanging out with levi?

lee lee he shouldn’t be, he doesn’t have a reason to because even tho all of us are close it’s still your life yk

chanel’s enemy i second that, and if he does that also means SOMETHING if yk what i mean

dr dre im not even gonna sugarcoat, his comment seems so passive 😭

↳ welp i’ve screwed up big time 😃

cutie patootie i mean he’s okay around walker and i. he did keep talking about you at one point last night when we were watching moon knight literally made us pause the ep and just spoke of you

chanel’s enemy BRO UR GONNA HAVE TO SAY MORE ELSE WE’LL JUST ASSUME HE’S GOT A CRUSH ON HER

cutie patootie idk bro it just seemed to me that he missed her a lot. he kept saying how he wanted to take her to egypt esp a restaurant by the pyramids considering y/n still hasn’t been and other places

chanel’s enemy ong he deffo should if he likes her, he should actually ask her out before anyone else does take her to a nice lil restaurant, get her flowers, whatnot

cutie patootie yeah fr

↳ yall pls tell me youre not speculating he likes me

dr dre omfg Y/N ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION TO ANY OF THESE DETAILS

↳ yes but im choosing to ignore them for the sake of my sanity

lee lee GIRL HE PROBABLY LIKES YOU IF IT ISNT THAT, THEN ITS BECAUSE WALKER SAID LEVI’S PHYSIQUE WAS GREAT AND HE ONLY EVER USED TO SAY THAT TO CHARLIE

↳ YEAH BUT CHARLIE’S MATURE

dr dre is he tho guys do dumb shit when they like a girl

↳ he doesnt like me 😭

cutie patootie ANYWAYS i'd keep my eyes and ears open if i were you, y/n, you definitely didn’t screw up but if you're worried abt charlie maybe just be a tad bit more careful?

↳ gotcha, no more levi posts then?

chanel’s enemy i mean ofc you can post him, it shouldn't be anyone's business as to who you're posting, but idk it's so hard to explain like don't get me wrong i think you should post whomever you wish but hopefully it won't hurt anyone. i mean you're not with anyone controversial so it shouldn't be a big deal anyways, plus if someone cough charlie cough can't fess up their feelings it's on THEM not YOU

↳ i definitely get that, thank you for the insight you guys :) it’s just tough because i really don’t know how i feel either

chanel’s enemy WAIT WHAT i did NOT expect that response

↳ i can't help it idk my emotions are all over the place right now

chanel’s enemy GIRL YOURE NOT A BOP STOP ACTING LIKE ONE

↳ RIGHT SORRY 💀 K PLEASE HELP THO

cutie patootie okok miss y/n do you, or do you not, have a crush on levi?

↳ i do not

chanel’s enemy okok MISS y/n l/n would you rather be MRS. y/n bushnell?

↳ DIOR WTF MAN

dr dre well THAT got a reaction out of her

↳ ugh but he's cute and he’s so sweet and he’s so charming too he texts me every morning no matter what timezone i’m in and he gave my mom flowers when he first met her too he’s so smart, both emotionally and intellectually like doing math with him is just >>>>

lee lee girl. GIRL.

chanel’s enemy LMFAOOO MATH 💀 she down bad BAD

dr dre you see there’s a river in egypt…

cutie patootie AND YOU STILL THINK THIS IS PLATONIC??

↳ OKAY OKAY fuck i like charlie don’t i

chanel’s enemy OH YOU DO YOU DEFINITELY DO

cutie patootie YOU LITERALLY WORRY ABOUT HOW HE FEELS ABOUT YOU ABOUT THE PEOPLE YOU HANG OUT WITH YOU'RE DOWN BAD N/N

↳ aw shit man WHAT DO I DO

chanel's enemy MAKE A SUBTLE MOVE ASAP

lee lee HANG OUT WITH HIM SOON

dr dre MAKE A SHORT FILM

cutie patootie YES THATS PERFECT

↳ guys this is too hard i dont like this

chanel's enemy STFU YOU WILL DO THIS WE ARE HERE BAE 💪

↳ OKOK LOVE YOU GUYS LEMME TRY THIS OUT

— taglist.

@shokocoded @istillremeberthefirstfallofsnow @surftrips @svtsimp22 @thames-fig @captainshischier @reggieslifeboat @multifandom-loser @wheelerslover @mermaid-mqtel @randomnpc456 @kaithoughs @isab3lita @mariposa555 @sunshinessky @myr-cheri @thedeadlynights @ella33 @c1nn4mng1rl @poppysrin @breadbrobin @lucy-the-ant @jules-loves-lukecastellan @taloulalila @tom-pls-fuck-me @mia-luvs @iknowyoureabigfan @rinisfruity14 @chasebeth @auttumnsayshi @prettygirlformula @alwayswndr @balletfilmss @kestisvrse @1forthemoney2forthekish @eissaaaa @emelia07 @toffytaste @soulaires @bearwon @happy-mushrooms @simrah1012 @blimp-blimp @obxstiles @yuminako @hopexcroc @mackycat11 @knowugetdejavu @0puddleofgender0 @callsignwidow @i-heart-emos @eddiesdrummergf @suckerforblondies @homebyeleven @bookworm-center @kawliflo @https-evan2 @ihrtzku @strawberryapplesauce13 @captainshischier @vbbaby-girl @honeysmoonn @itssmandiee @kinderwh0r3 @willsdills @americanbluebirdrb @bokutos-biddys @ln4author @lqclercs @czennieszn @laveens-pearl @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @aerangi @taygrls @ilamara @hanjiiberry

hi my loves! i am so so sorry for disappearing for a bit, school was getting horrible during the second semester and i found very little motivation. i rested all of july and i am hoping to update this series, along with posting a luke one i've written for the past few months, throughout this month! i think i've mostly tagged all the people that requested to be a part of the taglist, forgive me if i missed you or tagged you twice.

how are you guys doing?

please stay safe and drink water, i'm proud of you <333

[sandwhitches]

𝗰𝘄: mentions of cheating, slight angst

<<< back ✱ menu ✱ next >>>

When was the last time you stood up? Your legs were beginning to grow numb, knees sore and tingly against the ground as you hunched before the synthetic glow of a laptop screen. A long emptied energy drink can sat dormant on your lap, forgotten in the swarm of schemes that bounced around the walls excitedly in Suna’s bedroom. 

Suna was beside you, feverishly penning down what was happening. It was a neatly lined table: the first column was for names, the second for dates, and the third for offenses. 

The name of your ex-boyfriend. October 31st. Cheated on you with your friend.

The name of your friend. October 31st. Hooked up with your ex-boyfriend.

The name of Suna’s old roommate. June 17th. Took the cash out of his wallet and ran.

The name of a girl you hardly knew. February 5th. Keyed Suna’s new rustbucket for parking in “her spot.”

“Think that’s enough to start off?” He peered up at you groggily, flexing out his spent fingers with a wince. You nodded, eyes trailing the list of thirty or so names, “More than enough.” Of the names were people who had wronged you, who had wronged your friends, who had wronged friends of friends and their friends, too. It was practically untraceable. 

Suna sniffed, thinking, then scooted next to you to examine his laptop screen, “Smart.” 

You felt yourself flush at the subtle praise, chalking it up to the unreasonable amount of caffeine in your system, then glanced back at your work. “Well,” you murmured sheepishly, “At sight was taken.” 

Rintaro rolled his eyes, a lethargic shrug following, “Dumb name, anyways, sounds too romantic.” You snickered, “What? I thought it was a good play on words. Like love at first sight, just, not…love.” You both chuckled dryly at this, slightly delusional with exhaust. It was hard to make time for this, it was even harder to plan this, and the execution was no easy feat, either. 

“I like this name you picked better. Sounds kinda confrontational, ya’know?” 

You licked your lips, then snapped impatiently, a queue for him to hand you the extensive list in handwriting only you seemed to be able to read at that point.

“Chicken scratch.” You muttered, earning a groan from him as his watchful eyes ensured you typed every word to a tee. 

Suna was your best friend. Suna was the best of the best. The cream of the crop. The apple of your eye. The only person you think, no, you know would ever want to take things this far.

It was a little past four in the morning by the time you finished, sighing in satisfaction as he rubbed your back, “Nice.”

You turned to face him, the tips of your noses inches apart; how many times had you been this close on his floor? Too many to count, surely, but why did it feel so different lately? Especially in that moment as you both dove headfirst into your favorite secret you ever will keep. The secret you’d keep in the years to come. 

“Is this a bad idea?” You mumbled abashedly, balling your sweaty palm. Suna’s expression lightened and he shrugged once more for the umpteenth time, “Maybe, but…” he clicked his tongue in thought, “we’ve wanted this for a while.”

It’s decided. You nod. This is a very good bad idea, indeed. 

Turning back to the computer, you mashed around on the keyboard, deft fingers pressing at the clacking mouse on the floor, “Okay,” you sighed. “It’s live.”

-

-

-

-

-

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀:

✱ "THEY DID IT!!! THEY SAID THE THING!!!!" ass moment

✱ formal apology to anyone i may have unintentionally (it was slightly intentional) led to believe that they murdered someone, or, that one person who thought they were vampires (I liked that theory the best)

✱ y/n and suna are no strangers to controversy

✱ spiteful bitches who match each other's toxic freak

𝗮/𝗻: hehe sorry this is a bit late. everything is about to go to shit. also ree (who is unfortunately not here to see it, fly high!) and i looked up the actual onsight.com and it was a python coding wtv the fuck...starting a gofundme for me to buy the domain /j

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @zumicho @nectardaddy @moucheslove @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses @piopioo @lvtilzs @s777athv @localgaytrainwreck @reignsaway @savemebrazilhinata @pop-ghost @naweirdo @sunsribn @staileykout @milesmoralesluvs @chaconadine @aboutkiyoomi @m3gitsune @wizardhore @ineednanami @wakashudou @torkorpse @st4rdusttx @renkitsune @solaqes @sereniteav @eveyams @myromanempiree @saltypuffin1040 @nbcvs @gsyche @miiyas @starkyu @renardiererin @puppenpop @sleepystrwbrryy @yumiecheesecrackers @sp1ng @mfcherry @semieita24srockstargf @nanamis-right-tiddie @strawbrinkofdeath @piapiaweee3 (blogs in bold could not be tagged, please check your settings!)

taglist status: open (44/50) (please send an ask to be added)

[writingsfromhome]

If you Love Something

A/N: this has been an idea sitting in my drafts for a while. You and Harry had a brief but intense relationship as teenagers, were forced to make a serious decision then, and it’s aftereffects have lingered for the rest of your lives. It deals with some heavier topics so read with caution (alcoholism, depression, unwanted pregnancy etc). I’d describe it as sad but hopeful.

Part 2

—————————————

Age 17.

It started in secret. We’d found each other on the roof of a house party. Truth be told, I saw him sneak out of the window where people were crowded around the TV watching some controversial music video I hadn’t heard about. And I’d followed.

I knew who Harry was. Had him in English, Maths, and Biology last year. He was well spoken, thoughtful, and silly. I never spoke to him once though. Only admired him from afar.

Tonight I had my first drink and then another. I was feeling buzzed and despite being painfully shy for most of the time I’d known everyone here, I was suddenly gripped by the realization that we were approaching the last year we would all be together. Why had I waited this long to pursue someone I thought was cute?

I snuck out after him, when my friends weren’t looking. I even tilted the window more closed than usual so no one would suspect anything; I had the attic room at home so I knew how to maneuver the angled roof to get comfortable.

“You need any help?” Harry’s voice is clear in the silence.

“I’m alright.” I stand up to peer at him. He’s climbed near the top.

“Sure? You don’t seem steady.”

“Oh I’m steady,” I prove it to him by climbing up to where he was. “See?”

“I’m mistaken. My bad.” He holds out a hand to help me sit beside him and the night sky flashes brighter for an instant when I grasp his hand. My stomach is in knots.

“Harry. Styles.” I don’t know why I say his full name but I was nervous.

He repeats my full name back to me. I don’t know why I’m surprised he knows it. It’s not like we went to a big school.

“What brings you out here?”

I try to be bold about it, “You?”

“Party was getting too much.” He says. I stare at him in confusion while he complains about something his friends had gotten up to.

I replay my answer and realized it sounded like I’d skipped answering his question and asked the question back. Bugger.

“You know my name.” I interrupt him, forgetting he was telling me a story. Awkward.

“Yeah? Of course I do.”

“We’ve never talked.”

“We talked. Once in Maths. We had to grade each other’s answers.”

Oh yeah. I burn when I remember the 4/10 he’d given me with a smiley face saying that maths was masochistic.

“Barely.”

“I know you though,” he says with a softness that makes my heart stutter.

“Do you?” I look to him, resting my chin on my shoulder. He gazes down at me and I swear I could taste the colours around us.

His eyes draw me deeper as he inches closer. Was he going to kiss me? Oh my god.

I look back out to the roof and he jerks away. Omg.

“I do.”

“Oh,” I don’t know what to do after that awkward moment.

“I know you’re really quiet and shy but your smile is so loud you can see it from across the room.” He says and my breath catches as he continues. “You’re yourself with your friends, you really like Harry Potter and field hockey. You would kill Mal Adams if you could get away with it and you hate Maths just as much as you love art. You’re dating Oli Graves but your smile is only ever shining half as bright when you’re around him. Can I go on?”

I stop breathing completely halfway through his declaration of knowing me. All this time I had my eye on him, I didn’t know he was watching me too.

“I didn’t ask you for your opinion on my relationship.”

“You didn’t. I didn’t give you one either.”

I glare at him. He was right. He smiles knowing he was. I’m mad that I’m not mad at him. That he was right.

“What are you doing with a guy like that?”

Oli and I had been dating for 7 months now. He was loud and fun in a way I wish I could be. That’s why I liked him so much. That’s why I was at a party like this to begin with.

“He’s a good guy.”

“That’s all?” He asks. I look over but he’s looking up at the sky. I follow his gaze and get lost in the great expanse of nighttime.

“I think you deserve someone who sees you. Don’t you?”

“Did Ally see you?” I ask with a hint of aggression I didn’t mean to have.

“Ally and I broke up during Easter. So there’s your answer.” He’s unbothered.

“Well what do you want?” I ask.

“Right now? Or in life?”

I shrug. “Both?”

“I want to explore the world and meet all kinds of people. I wanna make the world a better place by being in it. It’s cheesy as shit so if you ever said I said this I’ll deny it and you’ll look like-“

“My lips are sealed.” I turn his way to promise him that. It makes me laugh at how serious he looks saying it all and when I do his face relaxes.

“You laugh is nice too. I forgot to mention that.”

That quiets me very quickly.

“And right now,” he continues. “I’d really like to kiss you.”

My ears ring. Did I hear him right? Could you get so drunk you hallucinate? I swear the cold air had sobered me-

“Did you hear what I said?” Harry’s moved in closer to me. Did I? I don’t know.

“What d-“

“I’d like to kiss you.”

I nod, afraid to talk and realize I’d hallucinated him saying that.

The world melts away when he kisses me. It’s tender, nothing like Oli and his jagged pushy kissing. In the nighttime air it’s warm, and soft, and easy.

“I know you,” Harry says when we part. I’d nearly climbed into his lap and I try to edge away, embarrassed, but he keeps a hand firm on my thigh.

“I know you too Harry,” I breathe. He smiles and it crinkles his luscious eyes.

I think I was falling.

***

We keep it a secret after I break up with Oli. For months, until mid-August when I invite him over for dinner after my mom insists on meeting “the boy I was all doe-eyed over”. The night with my family goes so well—Harry is the picture of a courteous gentleman that even my sister is swayed by him despite saying boys were gross. I ask him to hang out, in public, the next day. He doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

That’s what I love about Harry—yes love. He’s not pushy, he lets me go at my own pace. He respects me and sees me for everything I am and loves me anyway. I wanted to spend my whole life with him.

It was so intense and relaxed at the same time. It felt like no relationship I’d been in before. I felt different being with him, even my friends noticed.

When final year started, Harry and I were official but we didn’t flaunt it. We didn’t need to. My friends knew about us and they were happy for us, they told me I was more me. Whatever that meant.

Life was phenomenal and I was living in a dusky haze. Nothing could touch us.

Until one day in February. I was out with my sister, mum didn’t want to take her out and since I recently got my driver’s license with plenty of lessons from Harry, I was driving her to the mall. She needed Valentine’s Day cards.

“I thought you said love is stupid.” I remind her on the way.

“It is.”

“So why the hell am I driving you to buy cards for a made up holiday?”

“Because!” She crosses her arms and stares out the window. I flick her arm at a red light.

“You have a crush.”

“I do not!”

“Do too. Who is it? James? Mattie? Hamid?”

“Ew! They’re freaks.” My sister continues staring out the window.

“Why do you want to buy cards so bad!?”

“I just want them! For my friends!”

“Okay then,” I didn’t believe her. But I couldn’t bring her home crying or mum would ground me.

A lot of places have slim pickings. Wandering the aisle of Waterstones I catch sight of a family friend. She was my dad’s uni friend’s daughter, a few years older than me but by the time I got to secondary she had dropped out after getting pregnant. I remember the buzz when everyone found out.

I avoid her and find an aisle to occupy myself.

Harry and I were always careful, mum had already given me the talk and he never pressured me to do anything I didn’t. I imagine Harry as a dad. He would make a good one I think.

As one thought leads to another I go cold as I realize something. My last period was during the holidays.

I feel like I’m walking in a swarm of locusts as I walk to the edge of the aisle, scanning for my sister. Maybe I can pop into a pharmacy before she’s done. Maybe…

This was crazy. It was probably just a missed period.

But if it isn’t, another voice asks. I felt it in my gut. I had to do this.

I don’t remember getting home. I don’t remember anything about the rest of that day except two faint lines, and then two faint lines again, and a third time. I fall asleep before dinner that night and shut the world out.

***

“I know something’s wrong.” Harry’s walking me home after school. It’s Valentine’s Day and he’d been nothing but sweet. He bought me chocolates, flowers, and we planned to cook dinner together after school. I had bought him chocolates too, and had written him a heartfelt note with a bunch of photos of us weeks ago. The box was in my room, waiting for tonight. “Do you not like the flowers? Or is it dinner? We can go out somewhere instead?”

“No everything’s lovely.” I’d never heard Harry this desperate before. It gets under my skin even though part of me knows that’s not really it. But having him hover over me all week trying to figure out what was wrong was too much.

I’d spent every night this week with a hand over my belly. Thinking about it. I hadn’t told anyone. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. All I can think of was Jenny and I didn’t want that life. I couldn’t. I couldn’t be a mother.

“Please. What’s the matter.” Harry asks again, tugging at my hands but I pull them away.

“I just need some space!” I shout and he flinches. “I’m sorry Harry. I just need space right now.”

“Right now like…” he scratches his head. “I don’t get you. It’s Valentine’s Day, we’ve been talking about this day for weeks what do you mean you want space?”

“I can’t do this right now. Please.”

“Are you-are we…”

“I’m not breaking up with you.” I look at Harry with tears in my eyes, I didn’t want to cry out here. But every time I look at him I remember the reality. What’s growing inside me. I can’t take it. “I just can’t do today.”

I go inside my house. Leave him without further explanation. I feel awful, I can’t hold the tears in long enough to get to my room.

***

“Hey love?” My mum and dad knock on my door at half past 5. I lay in the dark, having cried myself dry. “We’re worried about you. Can we talk.”

“I can’t.” I say, voice stuffy.

“I thought you and that boyfriend of yours had plans,” dad says. He liked Harry but he rarely called him by his name. “Did something happen?”

“No!” I wanted them to leave me alone. “I just. I had to cancel. I’m fine.”

“Don’t sound fine to me love,” I feel the mattress dip as mum sits down. Dad strokes my hair. They whisper something I can’t hear and a pair of footsteps pad out of my room.

“Mum just leave me alone.” I try again.

“I’m not.” She pushes me further into my bed and leans down, tugging my blanket down. When I finally look at her she smiles kindly and kisses my forehead. That fills me up enough to start wailing again. “Oh love, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” I sob into my blanket. Mom lays down beside me and I let myself be cradled like a child. God, I had a child. This was so fucked.

“Talk to me. We can figure it out together.”

I don’t know how my parents would react. They were never particularly strict, especially after what happened with Jenny I remember them always being sympathetic. We even visited her in hospital with a gift.

Mum strokes my hair and whispers that it’ll be okay. Slowly my sobbing eases into light sniffles. I had to tell her. She would know what to do. And if she hated me for it, I would just have to deal with it.

“Mum don’t be mad-“

“I won’t honey I-“

“No. Mum.” I cut her off. She moves back on the pillow so she can see my whole face, moving a strand of hair so I couldn’t hide. “Something…messed up. Happened. And…I was careful. We were always careful I don’t know what happened but I-“

I watch her face changed. Like she knew. She knew what was coming but she waits patiently as I muster up the courage to say the words that felt too real once I said them.

“Mum I’m…I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she bites her lip. What was she thinking? Was she crying for me or with me? Why wasn’t she saying anything!?

“Mum-“

“C’mere.” She wraps me in her embrace again and kisses the top of my head. My body feels drained and limp. I finally told somebody. It was real. This living thing inside of me was real.

“What happened?” She asks next. And I tell her what I think happened. When. How I found out. She listens, holding my hand in hers. When I’m done and it’s poured out of me she smiles supportively. “This isn’t a bad thing okay? It’s okay. Any decision you make is up to you. I’ll talk to your dad but just know you call the shots okay? I love you.”

This is what carries me. The love.

She asks me it I told Harry yet and I tell her the truth. She urges me to tell him. I tell her I wanted to so bad but I was scared.

She leaves shortly after that, I hear her talking softly outside my room. Nobody calls me for dinner until 7, a soft knock on my door. My sister would never be so soft, I assume it’s dad so I tell him to come in. I was scared to face him.

It’s Harry instead.

“Harry!” I cover my splotchy face with my blanket, why was he here? Did mum invite him? This was soo embarrassing.

My heart pounds and Harry is silent until he takes a seat where mum had previously been.

“I came over, your mum invited me. She explained.”

She did what? For a moment I feel betrayed.

“She said you weren’t doing so well. Stressed? I could make you some tea if you’d like. But I told you y/n, you’ll get into unis. You don’t have to worry so…”

I sigh. Mum had told him a half-truth. But he had come. Of course he had.

I couldn’t even think about uni right now because that lead me down a road of what if I couldn’t go because I had a baby. And that life felt so bleak it made me depressed.

“Harry.” I inch my blanket down a little and his eyes go round when he looks at me.

“You look…awful.”

“I know.” I cover my face with my hair but he brushes it away and kisses my forehead.

“No. I’m worried about you. I brought dinner-“

“Oh Harry.” I spot the bag he brought with him.

“I made it all for us. With my mum’s help but mostly me. I packed it to bring to you.”

I didn’t deserve him. And I had to tell him. And he was going to break up with me. What high school boy wanted a child?

“Harry it’s not uni.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I was carrying another living thing. It was the size of a seed but I was carrying it inside me. Like a living breathing pot. I was a potted plant.

“Then what is it?” His brows crinkle. “Is it us?”

“No!” I rush to tell him. “I…I don’t know how to say this. And I don’t know how you’re going to react but it’s okay either way.”

“What are you talking about?” His hands slide up my lap. “What is it?”

“Harry. I’m um, I’m pregnant.”

I watch him freeze and stay exactly how he is, his brows pinch ever so slightly. I knew this look. He looked still on the outside but his mind was racing. And I was scared what was racing through it.

“Pregnant?”

“Yeah. From…the holidays.”

“How did-I thought we-“

“I guess it’s not foolproof.” I whisper. Mum had told me to go on the pill, and I hadn’t listened because all my friends told me it made them gain weight. If only I had listened. Now I was gaining weight anyway.

“What are we going to do?” He asks next. And I never realized six little words could weigh the world. If I could cut those words out and surgically implant them into my heart I would. Just to remind me the equal parts relieved and comforted they made me.

I hold his face in my hands, new tears springing to my eyes. He was in this. With me.

He kisses me and pulls me into a hug. I cry into his shirt again and he holds me so tight I swear I could break.

“I don’t know if I can keep it Harry,” I finally whisper to him.

His hands fist in my shirt, he holds his breath and after a long minute he lets me go with it.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Was he really okay with all this?

“It’s…I can’t make you keep it.”

“You’d want to keep it?” I couldn’t believe it.

“It’s…” he swallows his sentence and keeps his gaze on my stomach. I tug his hand and lay it over it. When his eyes meet mine I see a hint of heartbreak. We were going to break our hearts either way I think.

Not once did I think he might want to keep it.

“It’s okay.” Harry finally says. “We’re so young right? How would we keep a baby and go to school, and do everything we always talk about?”

“Yeah I don’t…I don’t know.”

“I love you.” He says with such a sudden passion. I wrap my arms around his and return the sentiment.

Eventually we lay down and just talk about everything. Truthfully, my head was telling me not to keep the baby but everything else felt dead thinking about it.

Maybe that’s why it took me until April to finally make a decision. It was the size of a plum by then, and a tiny bump was starting to show but only when I stood naked in front of the mirror. With clothes on, nobody was the wiser. But the longer I kept it, I think the more Harry fell in love with it. The idea of it.

We have a long talk during our Easter holiday. We talked in my bedroom until the sun comes up. I tell him I was sure of my decision.

I’d gotten accepted to Cambridge by then. Harry was staying in London. We knew it wasn’t feasible. To live the life we always wanted, we had to get rid of this new life we never knew could happen.

I don’t know why but I don’t tell him the day I go to do it. I go with my mum. Mum drops my sister off at school—she didn’t know. Mum said she had a big mouth.

We drive in silence. When we park mum asks how I feel.

“Sad.” It was the truth. I knew this was right. But it felt like shite.

“Yeah.” She rubs my hands. “Want to go in?”

“I just want to sit here for a bit.” I tell her.

“Okay. I’ll go sign you in.”

She takes my purse and hers and leaves me there. I take the moment to ground myself. Say goodbye to the other future.

When mum knocks on my window I jump.

“Yn? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah yeah I’m coming in.” I open the door.

“You know you’ve been sitting here half hour?”

I pause, one leg out the door and one still in. “I…I must have got lost in my head. Sorry mum-“

“Look. Do you want to do this?”

“I don’t know…I have to.”

“There are other options love-“

“But how can I give it up and live my whole life like that?”

“We can help raise her. You can go on and live your life-“

“I’d be a horrible mother.” Mum and I had this row so many times before. It always ended in me storming away but I couldn’t here.

“You don’t need to make the decision today.”

“But I do.” I tell her. “Otherwise it’ll drive me insane.”

I tuck both feet back into the car and rest my hand on my belly. I’d allowed myself to do that only in my room, when I was alone. Doing it out here made it feel even more real. Suddenly I couldn’t imagine going through with the decision.

“I can’t do this.” I tell my mum.

She smooths my hair down and kisses my temple. My door closes and a few seconds later she climbs in beside me.

“Think about it.”

“I can’t. But I can’t keep it either.”

“Okay.” Mum pulls me into her and I think I should cry but I can’t. I’m calm, maybe I know I’d made the right decision. Or just a decision. I was going to stick to this.

“I can’t raise it. I’m just a child I…maybe someone out there wants a baby and can’t have one maybe-“

“I’ll look into it for you.” Mum promises. “You set the rules remember?”

And that’s how it goes. Mum looks into it, we decide to go for adoption. We go to the hospital on the first warm day of the year. By then I’d taken to wearing jumpers over flowy dresses and been thankful for the first time in my life that I wasn’t skinny like other girls. At most angles you couldn’t tell my belly was so perfectly round.

By then too, Harry had accepted the decision. He seemed relieved. Thinking aloud he’d said maybe he could raise it, but quickly turned around when I asked him what he’d do about uni.

“Someone out there can take care of it better than us. Someone will love the baby like we do.”

During the summer, I tell all my friends I was staying with family in midlands. And I do go up there, that’s where the couple who was adopting lived. Harry and I meet them with my mum and his. It’s awkward, we run out of conversation fast. But their house is big and they already have a 2 year old from an adoption last year. My baby was going to be loved here. And have a sibling.

“We did want to discuss one last thing,” they’d said before we left. We all listen intently. “We…find it best when it’s a no contact adoption. We’ve had a lot of friends who keep contact open and it gets messy-“

“What?” I hadn’t really thought about this until now. Hearing I’d have to give the baby up and go on like it didn’t exist felt wrong. Harry’s hand slips into mine.

“This is typical,” Harry’s mum says from his side. “Let’s hear it out.”

“Right. So just to prevent future complications, we do no contact. Of course when baby’s older and wants to seek out the real parents we can’t stop them. But until then…”

“Thank you.” My mum steps in when it goes silent. I could hardly wrap my head around what they were saying. When it gets older?

Pretty soon mum is ushering me out and Harry’s hand is still clutching mine. We don’t let go until we reach my Uncle’s where we were staying until August. The baby was due in September. I was going to miss the first week of class.

“I can’t do this.” I tell them later. “How can we just have no contact.”

“I thought you knew.” Mum says. “I explained that some parents want this when they adopt.”

She might have. Ever since I hit the third trimester like my doctor said, I’ve had a hard time listening and understanding what someone was saying after they spoke too long. I was glad school was done—for obvious reasons, but also for not having to sit in a class and learn.

“We have no other choice.” Harry says from beside me. He rubs my back and slowly, I zone back into the conversation. “We can find another family but they might want the same thing.”

“What if the baby never looks for us?” I turn to him, our heads press against the other’s. “What if we go our whole lives just wondering?”

“What’s the other option?” Harry whispers. He was right. I just didn’t want to get it.

Acceptance slowly creeps into me over the course of the summer. It was always hot carrying another person around, I was always hungry and thirsty, and very cranky. Harry came up to see me every other weekend when he could, mum stayed with me and that summer was one I could never forget.

It was September 1st, a particularly hot day. Rain fell in the afternoon and by the time the unforgiving sun set, the cool air was heavenly.

I sat by the bedroom window, moisturizing my belly like mum had shown me, talking to the baby. I wrote it a letter last week all about me, that I loved them and hoped the best for them. I told the baby about my family, how Harry and I met, and then I sealed it in an envelope with a picture of Harry and me. It was taken last Halloween when we’d both dressed up as each other. I tell mum to give it to the new parents. In case the day came the baby wondered about who we were.

As I spoke softly, I felt a gush of something wet down my leg.

“What?” I stand up, confused. “I…”

It takes me a second. I was going into labour.

“Mum!” I shout. “Mum! Come here!”

She rushes in and confirms it. It was happening.

“But it’s supposed to be next week!” I try not to panic but that’s all I can do as mum grabs our things and my aunt rushes to the car. “Does this mean something’s wrong? Is the baby o-“

I freeze as a contraction forces me to fold. I’d felt the kicking and the nausea and everything in between but these. These were a bitch.

Somehow we make it to hospital. Somehow I lay on a bed and push when the doctor tells me to. I nearly pass out. I just wanted Harry here with me. He didn’t know his kid was being born.

With a final push that felt like I was ascending my body and leaving it behind, I hear a wail and I cry. The baby was out, they cried and everything was okay.

“Okay congratulations mummy,” a nurse crouches down to me. “We’re going to clean you and baby up. She’s healthy and looks okay.”

“What?” I can barely see with my hair in my face and the nurses around me. It was a she? I had a baby girl?

We were never told the gender, so we wouldn’t get attached. But I had a baby girl. The nurse just called me mum.

I feel the tears on my cheeks, I was crying too. I try to look around me but a new nurse is talking in hushed voices to the doctor.

“…outside…call…adoption…shouldn’t or….contact-“

“What’s going on?” I can barely get the words out. “What?”

“Oh my love,” suddenly mum’s in the room and things are a bit better. A bit better.

“Mum what’s going on?”

“The baby’s born. The parents are outside they’re going to meet her soon.”

“What?” I look at mum’s face and it’s shining with tears. Why was she crying?

“Oh she’s beautiful love, she’s perfect. But your job’s done now. You should rest.”

“Mum,” I cry. “Where is she? Can’t I hold her?”

“No love,” mum moves my hair out of my face. I feel something break in half inside of me. I couldn’t even hold the baby? The baby girl? Mine and Harry’s baby girl?

“Why? Mum why? I just want to see her-“

“I’m sorry,” mum says through tears. “It’s just the way it is. She’s going to a loving home okay? She’s good. You’re okay.”

I can’t stop crying. I was going to lose her last April and I stopped that but I lost her anyway. My baby, I was never going to see her.

I remember when my sister was born. I was 5 and I was angry she’d taken the attention away. But when I saw her with her perfect toes and angel face I was obsessed with her. I even remember her first steps, she’d taken them at a park with mum and dad and me together. I was never going to know these things about my own baby. I was never going to know her.

I must pass out soon after. I remember waking up to the nurses instructing me about something. I’m half asleep and barely remember what I did when I get up. When I do wake it’s morning and there’s a figure on the chair beside me.

“You’re up.”

Harry. Relief washes over me knowing he’s here.

“Harry they took her,” I tell him.

“I know. I know yn.”

I move aside and he crawls into bed with me. I must look disgusting but he watches me with love brimming in his eyes. I can tell he’s been crying.

“I feel empty,” I whisper. Like someone had carved me out like a pumpkin. Something I’d had with me all year was gone. “How can I just move on? Start uni and all that when I…they just took her.”

“I keep thinking that.” Harry says. “Khalil invited me to a party to meet some blokes from uni and I just sat in my car the whole time. I couldn’t even go in. She…she was never going to be ours.”

“I feel awful.” I burrow into his neck as he strokes my hair. “A baby girl.”

“A baby girl,” Harry echoes.

***

I head to uni a week later. My body still feels like it fought a war and lost. It’s like it still thinks there’s a baby there. I produce milk for a few days, continue to have contractions, my belly is saggier than usual and I can’t stop crying about everything.

My dad drops me off to uni. He tells me he was proud of me, that I was always his baby girl. I cry then just like I cried at home when I said bye to mum, or when my sister hugged me which she never does. I can’t stop crying.

When I move into my dorm I feel like a completely different person than I thought I was going to be. My dormmate fills me in on everything she’s learned, complains about a boy and a party and it just feels so irrelevant to me. Did I used to care about those things? I had a baby. And now I didn’t.

By October, Harry and I are in different worlds. We hadn’t broken up but we talk weekly. Each week there’s less to talk about. When I visit home in October, being around him just makes me sad. He tries to cheer me up, make it like old times, but I know he’s hurting inside too.

I decide to do the breaking up. And at first he’s angry, insisting we could make it work. He actually refuses and walks away. We don’t talk for a whole day.

But at a house party in South where his uni mates were from, he accepts the end.

Through tears we kiss each other one final time, we whisper sweet nothings, we pour into each other all the hopes and wishes we had for each other.

When he hugs me for the last time I leave something behind. It’s similar to waking up the morning after my delivery and knowing something was gone. I really feel the shape of the loss. It sits in my sternum, a hole that grows smaller with time, but not just yet.

I fall into a depressed state for most of my first semester but my dormmate doesn’t give up on me and eventually I go to my first uni party. Eventually my brain fog clears and I actually go to all my classes. Eventually my life, on the outside, looks like it could be back to normal but inside I ache with the loss. So much that it becomes part of me. I don’t know where it ends, and I begin. It lives in me.

Age 23.

“The first of many hey?” Mal clinks his bottle to mine. I barely knew Mal but we were both friends with Khalil and therefore both at his stag.

“Before you know it we’re all going down,” one of Khalil’s friends joins in. “Stag after stag, suit after suit, it’s gonna be a blur man.”

“Let’s enjoy it while we can!” Someone cheers and everyone raises their beers. I toast with a smile; blokes loved to act like being in a relationship was the last thing they wanted when I knew most of them were mush in their girlfriend’s hands.

I also smile knowing I bought an engagement ring a few weeks back. I wanted to propose to Shannon, we met on her 22 when a friend invited me along. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the birthday girl. We’d been together since.

“Who do you think’s next?” The bets start going and nobody bets on me. Everyone always thought Shan was too good for me, they were counting on us breaking up. I was going to prove them all wrong.

The night gets sloppier until we all head back to the air bnb we’d rented for this. Tomorrow we were all supposed to go play golf like we were cosplaying old money bastards when we all knew we were just broke blokes from East. But I guaranteed they’d all be too hungover. We would get to the club and just drink the hangovers away.

And I’m right. I update Shan that I’m right when the boys stay in the dining area of the club. They decide on lunch and I step out to talk to my girlfriend.

“No birds allowed this weekend,” someone pipes in when I excuse myself.

“That’s just cuz you’re miserable Eli.” I brush past as the boys laugh. At me. And him.

I catch up with Shan. It was a bright day for September and I stay a little longer after the phone ends. Shan was in med school, she was always stressed or sleep deprived. I tried to support her the best I could—right now she needed moral support that she was going to get an internship she was applying for.

“Mummy doesn’t like when I have sweets,” a small voice says to my left. I look at a father with his daughter. He’s crouched down zipping her sweater up while she rambles on.

“Well it’s going to be our secret.” The dad says. “Sundays are for sweets aren’t they?”

“I love sweets.” She responds.

The father catches my eye and I shoot him a smile.

“Her mum’s going to hear every detail when we get home,” he says as he stands. “Can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

I laugh. The way she was rambling on, I didn’t think so. “How old’s she?”

“6.” He says, smiling down at her fondly. My heart aches.

“Almost 7.” She corrects her dad.

“Birthday’s in the spring.” He says more to me. “But almost 7 sure.”

I see them leave with one more shared smile, like we’re in on something. I imagine that’s how it would feel to be a parent. Always knowing something your kid doesn’t.

My daughter was 6. Wherever she was.

Thinking about the daughter I never had, the girl I lost always leaves me a little winded. Today’s no different.

Yn and I both made an agreement and it had been the hardest thing I’d done. Letting her go. It took me a proper year to even think about moving on.

I liked to think about yn, doing everything she wanted to do. But when I thought about the baby I spiralled into a dark pit. Sometimes when I drank too much, it pulled me in too deep to get out of. That’s what Shan liked to call my depressive drinking. She’s limited me to 3 drinks since.

Before I go in I take a minute to think about yn, where she might be. I hear from friends in high school random facts about her life. But I wonder how she’s doing. If she thinks about our baby like I do. How life would have been if I’d been here, calling her on the phone instead, asking if our baby girl was doing alright.

Age 29.

I stare at the nape of the man in front of me. It couldn’t be, but I’d memorized the back of his head—amongst other things, nearly 2 decades ago and I would bet £1000 I knew who this was. But I continue staring until the cashier rings him up.

In the same voice I remember, the one from my memories and my fantasies, I hear him say: “debit.”

I wait for him to pay before saying, “Harry?”

He turns so quickly he drops his card, wallet, and keys.

“Hi!” I laugh awkwardly and crouch down to help him pick his things up. There’s an awareness that the people in the queue behind me are witness to a moment that feels more intimate than a grocery store chat and it makes me shrink a little in my shell like a spooked turtle.

“Hi I-uh,” Harry short-circuits in front of me as the bored cashier holds his receipt out and stares at him with eyes that have worked one shift too many.

“I’ll just bag-“

“Yeah we can talk later.” I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile but it feels watery. I couldn’t believe of all the places I’d run into him, it was a grocery queue. How intense in such a mundane place.

As I watch my total rise on screen I risk a glance at Harry. His hand hovers over a white reusable bag, I wonder if that was his. Or his wife’s. If they did their weekly shop in a mismatch of bags that looked like that or they were the type of couple to have a set.

His eyes are on me though, somehow here and not here. I feel the same way.

I look back to the cashier asking me how I was paying. She glances between Harry and I. I don’t look back at him. Or the growing queue a few feet away.

I take my groceries—just some items my mum asked me to pick up, and stuff them into the tote I’m wearing. Harry waits for me by the exit.

“Hi.” He says as his eyes scan my face. I do the same, taking in all the ways time had spent with him. It must have been good—he looked good. “I can’t believe-“

“A Whole Foods of all places.” I laugh. A grin splits his face but his eyes stay on me.

“That smile, that laugh. God I’ve missed you.”

“I…missed you too.” How I could miss someone I’d known for one year and then never again for nearly two decades…I didn’t realize it was possible until now.

“Are you busy?” He asks. “Maybe we can grab a drink or?”

“I don’t…drink.” I hated that I had to announce it to people. I was still at the stage where I was figuring out how to say it confidently, or find a way around saying it.

“Oh.” Harry glances down at my belly and I realize he’d misunderstood but it’s too unspoken to correct him. “Cafe?”

“Yeah. That sounds lovely.” Honestly going anywhere with him sounded lovely right now. I wanted to cancel all my plans for the day and just sit with him. Stare at him and catch up. I couldn’t believe he was here.

We walk in a comfortable but waiting silence, like taking a cold drink out to a park with the anticipation it’s going to be good , and no desperation to open it as soon as you get it.

“Usual? Tea?” Harry asks when we step into a nearby cafe. It’s big for a cafe but has enough students working on laptops to not feel empty. I nod, unsure how to feel that Harry still knows what I order at a cafe. Or that my order hasn’t changed since 17.

I find us a booth and pretty soon he’s sliding into the seat across from me. The two of us can’t stop smiling.

“Hi,” he says again.

“Hi…”

“You look good, the same but better.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you!” I exclaim. More smiling.

“How’s…I mean, how are you? How is everything? What-“

“There’s so much to ask-“

“I don’t even know how to ask what I want to know!” Harry laughs and I’m warmed from the inside out at the sound of it.

“This shouldn’t be hard!”

“No.” He scrubs his face. “I’m really buzzing that we’ve run into each other.”

“Me too. It’s a bit unbelievable.”

“I know.” He continues gripping his cup and not taking his eyes off of me. It’s the exact way he used to look at me when we were teenagers. It nearly takes my breath away. “You look good—but I already said that. Sorry.”

“No,” I laugh. “That’s all that’s running through my head.”

“Oh—I remember hearing you were engaged a few years ago-“

“Yeah.” I turn my hand so he can see the ring. “Married now. You?”

“Yeah,” he looks down at his own hand. He had so many rings on I couldn’t tell from a glance. “Coming up to 5 years now.”

“Wow. It’s only 1.5 for me but Tatum and I—my husband, we’d been since uni.”

“Took him a while.”

“Mhm,” it had been a sore subject way back then. Harry says it casually but he studies my face. I know he wants to ask more but he’ll politely maneuver around it.

“Are you happy?”

I let out a breath. “That’s more complicated than anything else you could ask!”

“Is it?”

“Yeah I-“ I shrug. “I don’t know if I am. But I also have no idea what I could do about it. So. There’s that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” My stomach curdles with his words. I didn’t want pity, least of all from Harry. Harry. I can’t believe he was here. “I get it though. Everyone says your 30s are even more glorious than your 20s. We’ll see soon enough if they’re right.”

I meet his eye, they always intimidated me to look too long into. Even now, I glance back down at my drink. When I look up again he has a wry smile twisting his lips. He knew.

I was sorry to hear life hadn’t been as good for him. And then I understand, it wasn’t pity he was giving me. He truly was sorry like I.

I thought about Harry often. Of course I did. I liked to imagine him living out his dreams like he always talked about. I liked to imagine him happy and thriving.

“Do you ever think about us?” I have to ask. “If we did it all differently?”

“We would have had a 12 year old with us.”

Hearing him say it feels like someone had taken a screwdriver and opened me up. Raw and exposed. But looking at him I know he thought about her as much as I had. Both of us were apparently mourning a future neither of us had fought for.

“Yeah,” I breathe but I just sound winded.

“We were trying, at one point—Shan and I.” Harry fiddles with his ring. “Did all the tests and the trials and the shite. But no kids. It put a real strain on my relationship. I think we cracked instead of bending. And I don’t think either of us know how to make it right again.”

I grasp his hand and squeeze. “I know what that’s like. It’s hard. I…a couple years ago. I lost a baby. A baby boy. I felt like it was a punishment for-“

“Don’t.”

We hold onto each other, our drinks long forgotten. He holds my hand and it feels like being known again, like I wasn’t such an awful person. That someone could see everything I’ve done and still choose to have love for me.

“I’m sorry.” He tells me.

“Me too.” I bite my lip. With a sigh I let him go and lean back. Here we’d been so excited to bump into each other but we’d both been carrying sorrow and grief. It wasn’t very hopeful.

“So I guess you’re not drinking because you’re-“

“No.” I say, surprisingly without feeling awkward. “I’m just sober right now. Trying to figure out life without a drink.”

“Sounds like torture but I respect that. Sounds hard.”

“It was at first. I like the feeling now of thinking clearly. But I miss a glass of wine I do sometimes.”

We smile at each other.

“So do you live around here?” Harry broaches talking again after both of us had lapsed into silence for a while. I blink away the fog of the past.

“Yeah. You?”

“Nah. Shan’s out of town and I was feeling lonely. Came over to visit my sister. I’m just staying with her for the week.”

“Lucky me then.” I smile.

“Lucky me too.” He smiles back. It’s soft. We’re soft. It felt impossible to me after all this time the tenderness was still the strongest thing between us.

We chat a bit more, much about nothing. What we did for a job, anyone we still kept in touch with from school. Nothing that meant a lot.

“I need to head off now,” I say when my phone buzzes for a second time. “I was on my way to my mum’s. She keeps calling me.”

“Yeah. Don’t want to keep you.” Harry says but he stays seated. So do I.

We continue just studying the other until my phone rings again and I laugh. “It was…I really loved seeing you.”

I slide out and Harry mirrors me. I still come to his chest, he still smells the same and stands the same and looks just as handsome.

“How about uhm, how about dinner some time?” Harry asks. I knew it was coming, it’s still painful saying no.

“I…can’t. I…we can’t just do dinner, can we?”

“No,” Harry bows his head. We had too much history to just do dinner. From what he said—and I knew, both our lives were too complicated to add the allure of each other into the mix. I couldn’t do that to my life as tempted as I was. Especially not sober.

“Yeah.” He stands straight again and gives me space to head to the door. “Good seeing you. Give your mum my best if she doesn’t hate me.”

“She doesn’t.” I assure him. We stand awkwardly not sure if a kiss, a hug, or a wave was appropriate. We settle for a hug.

I remember the last time I was enveloped in his arms, tucked away into his tall frame. When we said goodbye forever, agreed to live our best lives separately. We’d both been too scarred to be anything together. Too much grief.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again.” Harry smiles at me when we part.

“Maybe,” I say knowing full well I wouldn’t do groceries on the weekend anymore.

With a final wave we both part ways again, this time it doesn’t feel as much like closure.

Age 35.

“Graduation’s graduating, what a mouthful.” I say to Andie. We sit in the parking lot of a local pub back home. Both of us had avoided reunions after going to the first one 10 years ago and being reminded of how much people liked to remind you of who you used to be. But this year Andie found out an old flame was going and single. And this is the first year I saw that Harry had checked off going. So we’d decided to go together.

I could have easily reached out to him. Asked him about meeting up there. But I didn’t want to come across any way. I remember our run-in 6 years ago. We felt the same way—we would do anything for each other, and I didn’t want any affect over him coming. Last I heard he was still in a relationship. Just cuz I was didn’t mean I had to ruin another.

“Okay. We going in?” Andie passes me her flask.

I’d taken to drinking again. Originally I stopped after a particularly bad night when I was 28. It nearly cost me my wedding back then.

I stopped to get sober. To feel what it felt like not to rely on alcohol to keep from feeling my emotions. I had a lot of grief I never processed. And unfortunately being sober, and processing the grief and depression, had ultimately cost me my marriage. But I was better for it. I knew what unconditional love and support was. I didn’t want to settle for someone who only loved me at my best.

Now I felt in control when I drank. I knew when to stop.

“Let’s go!”

“Do you think he’ll remember me?” Andie asks as we walk up to the place.

“You comment on so many of his posts. I think he does.” I tease.

“Gah. It would have saved me so much heartbreak if I just told him back 18 years ago how I felt.”

“Maybe,” I think about my confessed love 18 years ago and the heartbreak that ensued.

“Well at least I would have gotten him outta my system. Oh god I see him-“

“Hi ladies,” we’re stopped near the front and given name tags, making small talk with the girls working the booth. I vaguely remember them from a club but I have to read their name tags to pretend I remembered them at all.

Andie ditches me pretty quickly but I don’t mind. I find some friends I saw a couple times a year. Guess this was the couple time this year.

The whole time my eyes scan the room. People had brought their partners and I wondered if Harry would do the same. Deep down, I prayed he didn’t. I just wanted to see him.

I spot him halfway through the night. He’s leaning against the bar talking to Khalil. I remembered they used to be friends, he was always nice to me while Harry and I dated.

I watch him talk and drink. I lose him for a bit and then catch him leaving. Shite.

I excuse myself and rush out but nearly trip over myself slowing down. He was just outside for a smoke break.

“When did that habit start?” I ask. He nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Fu-y/n you scared me.” He shakes his face dramatically, like he’s getting something off of it. I bite back a smile, he was pretty drunk. “When did you get here? I didn’t know you came to these things?”

“I don’t.” I correct him. I couldn’t tell him I came for him. “It was just the name of this reunion, Graduation’s graduating. How could I pass it up?”

This earns a laugh. Eases the air between us. “Did you see Oli in there? He’s gotten bald.”

“He looks like his dad actually,” I remember his dad was always coming to Oli’s football matches, screaming at his son to run faster.

“Glad you didn’t end up with him?” Harry smirks.

“Oh yeah. I heard last reunion he just kept going up for the karaoke sober. If I want my bloke to embarrass me, at least give him the excuse of being drunk.”

“Shit,” Harry laughs. “I remember that! I remember! Wish I could forget!”

I laugh with him. “Harry you’re getting pretty close to drunk yourself.”

“Ah yeah. More than 3 drinks that, I’m being naughty tonight.”

I scrunch my nose, no idea what he’s talking about.

“I can’t believe you’re here tonight,” Harry says again. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again for another 12 years after our last time.”

“Thought I’d halve the time.” I watch Harry squash out the butt.

“Glad you did.” He looks at me and I’m 17 again. Why couldn’t we both be single? Why did I come here knowing I couldn’t have him.

Maybe I was as masochistic as the person who invented maths.

“Yn?” A voice calls out to me. “Oi! It is you I thought I was dreaming you up! What a sight!”

I’d been avoiding Oli all night. Not anymore.

I glance at Harry and he hides a smirk. Oli notices Harry then and his face hardens a little.

“Oli! Long time!” I go in for the hug he’s reaching for, unsure why he was so sweaty on an autumn night. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he grins at me. “You look good! Not a day over 25.”

“Don’t flatter me Oli,” I roll my eyes. “It’s not going to get you anything.”

“I’m not looking! I swear it!” He says earnestly. “I’m just paying you a compliment. It’s good to see you. Hey, I’m actually in a good relationship. Gonna propose to her.”

“Are you? What’s she like?”

I stand in the brisk evening as Oli tells me about his girlfriend. I’m happy for him, what we had in high school wasn’t really a relationship but I never wished him bad. He was a good guy, I was glad he found his person.

I change the subject when he asks about my love life, tell him I was getting cold. We head back in and I tell him I’d catch up to him later. I’d lost Harry and wanted to find him again. I had more I wanted to talk about.

“Khalil,” I interrupt him playing pool. He goes in for a hug and I engage in polite small talk until I tire of it. “I’m looking for Harry.”

“Of course you are,” he wags a finger at me. “I saw him leaving ten minutes ago?”

“Jeez really?” I couldn’t believe I missed him! After coming here just for him. Maybe he had to get home, maybe he had a kid by now. Had to tuck him in.

“He’s not doing so well since the divorce-“

“What?” I stare at Khalil like he’s spoken gibberish. Why hadn’t I heard about that?

“Ehm yeah. He’s pretty private about it.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Yeah. He’s been separated a few years now but he just signed the papers a couple weeks ago. I dunno. He gets kinda depressed around this time of year. Probably the weather.”

It was September. It wasn’t the weather.

I had to find him.

I brush past the people I went to school with. I followed Harry outside to a roof 17 years ago and today I follow him out to find him again. We needed to talk.

I look both ways, hoping for a miracle.

I spot a figure slumped on the far end of the road. I recognize the church, it was where we went every Easter and Christmas growing up.

I walk towards the figure until I can make out the hair. It was Harry. Thank god.

“Why’d you leave?” I ask him when he looks up to my approaching footsteps.

“I drank too much,” he hangs his head again. I sit beside him.

“I heard about the divorce. I’m sorry.”

Harry shrugs. “We separated a while ago. It was coming for a long time.”

“Yeah. Still.” I say.

We sit in silence, the only sound is our breathing and the faint noises from the pub down the road.

“She’s in her last year by now.” I say without further explanation. I know he’d know.

“Our baby’s 17.”

Our baby? I feel choked up. All these years we’d been apart, built our own lives, and there was still an our even when there hadn’t been.

“It’s always been us hasn’t it?” Harry says. “Nobody understands.”

“They couldn’t. We were so young, making such a big decision.”

“Oh y/n.” He leans into me and I wrap my arm around his shoulder. He’s cold, his jacket pooled on the steps around him. I gather it to spread over his shoulder but he stops me. “How much heartbreak can you have in one lifetime?”

I sit, aching for the pain Harry was going through. Knowing it was mirrored in me.

“I’ve had enough for a lifetime. I know that.”

“Me too.” Harry sighs. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” I intertwine our hands. They still fit the exact same, all these years later. I examine them, but they looked the same too. I wonder if our baby girl ever looked at her hands, wondered who she inherited them from.

“D’you think she thinks about us?” Harry asks what I’m thinking.

“Maybe.” I say. “I like to think so. I just hope she doesn’t hate us for giving her up.”

“Yeah me too I think…” he hangs his head. I hear him sniffle. Seems like Harry hit the point of drinking where all you could feel is regret. I remember those days. I knew where he was.

When he doesn’t finish his sentence I fill the silence; “Me and Tatum split uh…four years ago now.” I update him. “You probably heard something about it. I remember my mum saying she ran into yours when it was happening. They probably talked all about it.”

I wait for Harry to give confirmation but he stays the way he is.

“I went sober a few years before then. Almost ruined our wedding cuz I was exactly where you were. Unprocessed grief and all I could do was drink about it. I’d given up a baby at 18, then lost a baby a decade later. It feels silly to say out loud, that something that never really came into this world—something the size of a fruit could act like the rock you push up the hill every morning. The grief you fight at your darkest times. How could we be haunted by something that didn’t even exist—not technically. But that’s just the way it was. And that’s the way it had to be when we were 18. I’m not always sure I made the right decision overall but I know it was a decision we had to make at the time. I’ve had to find my peace. So do you Harry.”

“Yeah. I-I have to. Y’know? Sometimes I wonder if I would have made her proud.” Harry sniffles. I had similar thoughts. My throat feels tight remembering. “I don’t think, right now, I would be.”

“She’s so loved. She is so loved Harry. Whatever…wherever she is.”

“I love you.” Harry turns to me. His face is raw with grief and emotion. “Never stopped loving you. But I don’t want to give you this version of me.”

“I’ll take any version of you Harry.” I reassure him. “I think we’ve seen too much of each other to be able to hide anything away.”

He tips forward slowly until his head rests on my chest. I hold him there, just like he’d done for me so many years ago. I tell him the type of thing that meant everything to me back then and I hope it helps him to hear it: “We’ll get through this Harry.”

***

“I don’t remember getting here.”

I look up from my book, Harry stands in my kitchen with a confused look on his face. It was weird seeing him here in my flat. But it was so right too.

“We walked home. I thought you sobered up.”

“Nuh-uh.” He takes a few steps towards me, hesitant.

“Coffee?”

“Maybe I’ll take a shower first?”

“First door on your right. Extra towels in the cupboard.”

“Thanks.”

We look at one another for a beat before he moves back. I make another pot of coffee and clean up from breakfast while he showers.

Next time he walks back in he looks a lot better. Smells nice too.

“Black please.” He says when I hold the coffee up.

I pour him a cup and watch him sip it.

“Thank you for last night.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him.

“I remember what you said to me. You’re right of course. I think I knew it, I just didn’t have anyone to talk to about it with. Nobody knew about us…”

“You didn’t have to keep it a secret ‘til this day Harry.” I was surprised he had. “You didn’t even tell any of your friends?”

“The only people who knew were my family, a-and Shan. But. Year after year it didn’t mean the same thing to her. I stopped talking to her about it pretty quickly. Think it made it worse because her and I couldn’t actually…”

“Yeah.” I understood.

“But I realized. I think it was losing both of you. I feel like you were taken away too. We just went from being around each other all the time to cold turkey. That was a loss too so…”

“Yeah.” Again, I understood.

“I’m 35. I’ve gotta…get my head on straight.”

I examine him. “Looks okay to me?”

He smiles and puts his cup down.

“I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.”

“Meh that was years ago. Hard then. Fine now. For the best.”

“I agree,” Harry moves around the table to stand where I am. My heart pulses just like it always does around him. He rests a hand on my hip, dragging it up to wrap around my waist. He must feel how hard my heart’s beating. “Did I tell you? That I love you?”

“Maybe?” I feel myself growing more present. The hole that always lived inside of me growing even smaller in this moment. It allows me to settle on the floor better; less air, more weight.

“Well I do. I love you. At 17, or at 35.” He says this with a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.

“Well. I love you.” I return the kiss, relish in the way his hand grips my tank. “At 17, or 35.”

“Sometimes I wish I held on tighter at 17. But I look at you now and I’m excited to get to know you again.”

His words pour over me like honey. It was sweet we were still on the same page.

“I’m not letting you go this time.” Harry whispers in my ear. He pulls me in tight, swaying from side to side. “I want to spend 41 and 50 with you. I want all of you, every side.”

“Perfect,” I peer up at him. “That’s exactly what I want too.”

“And maybe one day,” he continues in a hush voice. “We’ll get a call from a young girl. She’ll tell us all about her life in a town up north. About a picture she has of her mother dressed like her father and her father dressed like her mother.”

“She’ll tell us she’s had a good life, and she’s thought about the people in the picture. She’d tell us she wants to meet them.”

“We would be able to show her the love we kept for her. Our love’s like a venn diagram, the bit in the middle is just for her. She’d know why she was born in the first place.”

“Closure,” I whisper to him. “We would know closure.”

I remember the day she was taken, how the loss of not even being able to see her felt bigger than the loss of her itself back then.

I think of a 17 year old girl, with green eyes and brown hair. With my smile and Harry’s dimples. My hands, and Harry’s height. She was loved by people, families, that she didn’t even know existed yet.

They say if you love something, let it go. If it’s meant to be it’ll come back.

As Harry and I stay intertwined in the kitchen of my flat, I send out a wish into the universe for her like I did most days. That she was healthy, happy, and one day curious enough to seek us out. That one day, she would come back.

Right now I focus on the man in my arms. The one I never thought I’d get to hold again. For now this was all I needed. I’d loved him, let him go, and after so many years apart, we were back.

[rachelzeglertruther]

Why You're Wrong About Rachel Zegler

This is a long post, but there's a lot of context missing from the Rachel Zegler "discourse" that I thought I could add with my history of watching this unfold from the beginning.

The Snow White Thing

You probably know this part. There's a curated video of Rachel going viral, framed to make her seem like she's never seen Snow White, she hates the story, she hates the character, she's ungrateful, and single-handedly ruined Disney's brand. The clips from these videos are not new— they were released nearly a year ago in September 2022 and nobody cared about them at the time. Why? Because all the full interviews she did that day at the Disney Exo in 2022 showed a young, charming woman who was excited and proud to be cast in an iconic role. The interviews were very well received and it was a non story. Now that it's been edited down and cut together in a malicious way, and the people sharing them are purposefully misquoting her, they've twisted the context. Normally, this would be a non controversy. Even if that video wasn't taken out of context and spliced together to make her seem like she hates the film, most people wouldn't care. The issue is the response to the video.

Let's get this out of the way: Rachel Zegler doesn't hate Snow White. She relayed that she was afraid of the forest scene as a child and didn't revisit it again until after she was cast in the role. She has since then watched it several times and has expressed for YEARS before that interview came out that she was incredibly honored and grateful to be playing such an iconic Disney princess. If you watch the full videos that those clips came from, this comes across immediately to anyone with their own mind. If you hate someone for being scared of something as a child, I don't know what to tell you. If the role was being given to the biggest Snow White fan, you would be correct that she doesn't deserve it. Unfortunately for you, this role requires talent and Rachel has the Golden Globe and critical acclaim from people who matter within the industry (her peers and critics).

You know who does hate their beloved characters in beloved franchises but the general public still applauds them? Harrison Ford, Sean Connery, Daniel Craig, and Robert Pattinson. They've all expressed outright contempt for the roles and the films they were part of, but nobody cared. People had fun with their quotes but they still respected them. Rachel said nothing even closely resembling their remarks, but she's being torn to shreds. Are we seeing a pattern here?

Rachel never said a single bad thing about the character or the animated film— she said that it was outdated and that set people over the edge, foaming at the mouth to have her burned at the stake. If you think it would be perfectly fine to have a movie about an abused 14 year old girl run away to play housemaid for a bunch of men, get kissed in her sleep/death by an adult man, and then wake up to fall into his arms in 2024, that's certainly a hot take. If you're against remakes, direct your ire at Disney. But if you truly think that plot would work with young girls today, you're the one who's out of touch. It would do far more harm than good to portray a young woman in that light.

She also never said that there was anything wrong with romance or love. She said that the new Snow White wasn't only dreaming of that. I can't stress enough that this wasn't her decision… she was describing the plot of the new film that was written by Greta Gerwig and approved by Disney. There's a prince in the film and he will also have a more developed personality and storyline. If you have a problem with the writing, wait until it comes out so you can write your strongly worded letter to Greta. If you have a problem with the concept in general, take it up with Disney. There's no need for you to be defensive over hurting the legacy of a multi-billion dollar company or a 87 year old cartoon written by a proud racist antisemite. This is the most confusing part of the hate campaign to me because it wasn't even her opinion— she was literally describing the plot of the film she had nothing to do with. It also isn't a new thing. Disney actors have been promoting their newer films this way for years.

It's perfectly okay to like things that are problematic. It's becoming an issue that we refuse to acknowledge that maybe some things we love are harmful. What we can't do is justify why it's not problematic, and in fact everyone who calls it out is the problem and NOT their precious cartoon. The 1937 Snow White was an amazing feat of animation. It's a classic for a reason. But it was also Hitler's favorite film and was directed by a white supremacist (the one who is "rolling in his grave" due to Rachel's existence, according to his son). Things don't exist in a vacuum and we can't ignore the bad parts.

How We Got Here:

The thing that everyone is missing is the source of this campaign. This started in September of 2020 when transphobic actor Gina Carano made fun of trans people by changing her pronouns to beep/bop.boop. Rachel indirectly called her out by coming to the defense of the trans community.

She never called out Gina by name (though she rightfully could have). Mind you, Rachel's first film hadn't come out yet. Nobody knew who she was outside of those of us who were anticipating West Side Story and were fans of her covers on YouTube. She was a "nobody" in the industry. Take this part with a grain of salt because I can't confirm it, but Gina and her fans directly blame Rachel for her being banned from Twitter. Again, I really don't think that matters as she's harmful to the trans community and shouldn't have a platform. What does matter is that fans of Gina (which, let's be real, are just fans of transphobia) have been stalking Rachel's every move since then. Unfortunately for them, there wasn't much they could use against her other than to call her woke and #snowbrown when she was cast a year later as the Disney princess. The noise has always been there, but unless you were a fan of hers, you probably didn't hear about it. It wasn't until two years after this that they had something else against her.

If you've recently seen a video of Rachel crying circulating that claims to be her reaction to the recent Snow White backlash, it's an old video. It's from a vlog from her youtube channel posted in June 2022. It was in response to these exact same transphobic anti-woke conservatives who thought that they had something when she did an interview on the red carpet of the Shazam premiere. When asked why she joined the DC universe, she responded "I needed a job." It was generally well received by most people who thought it was cute and funny, but those who were waiting in the shadows latched onto it as an excuse to send her death threats.

The video was also about a month after she was invited to present at the 2022 Oscars and was made to seem like she bullied the Academy (as a no name newcomer, mind you) into letting her attend. In reality, a fan left a comment on her Instagram asking what she was wearing to the event. She responded that she wasn't invited but would be rooting for everyone from her couch in her boyfriend's pajamas. It was the public who demanded she get an invite and the Oscar's must have agreed that it was very odd that the lead actress of a film that was nominated for Best Film wouldn't get an invite. Whether it was an oversight on their part or a scheduling issue with Rachel's filming, I truly think there was no malicious intent from either party. Keep in mind, she used to be very active with her fans (she's a huge fangirl of things herself and has always had a strong relationship with her fans) and she wasn't used to her comments becoming articles and national tv segments. This was the first time it happened to her. It appears she learned that she's not just a girl who posts on YouTube anymore and she's going to be put under a microscope for every move she makes. She has since shut down her Instagram comments and rarely interacts with fans outside of liking comments these days because of this.

I know this is long, but I need people to understand where this is all coming from. It didn't just happen out of nowhere. It's an orchestrated campaign built by violent conservatives, and thousands of women who saw Barbie this summer are hopping on the bandwagon to beat another woman into submission because they have a lot of internalized misogyny to deal with. She's not smug, you just hate women. It's okay to find people annoying, but it's valuable to look into why you think that. If you see a confident young woman expressing views that don't actually harm anyone and you think she needs to be "humbled" and "put in her place" by the entire internet dogpiling her, you've lost your mind. Using "body language experts" (fake job) to diagnose her as a psychopath is so vile. Everytime someone mentions her name online, the comments beneath it are full of the most violent, misogynistic, racist things I've ever seen. If you're contributing to that, you've chosen your side. Reevaluate or seek help.

I'm tired of seeing this happen to young women. We let this happen to Jennifer Lawrence, Brie Larson, Millie Bobby Brown, Halle Bailey, and Jenna Ortega. It's one thing to call out celebrities and hold them accountable when they're doing something actively harmful, but that's not what this is about. That's never been what this is about. We pick these girls to pieces and examine them and pull them apart to justify our hatred of young women who rise to success too quickly for our liking. We dogpile and try to stamp out the flame before they burn too bright. Barbie is still in theaters and you all loved it, yet you're demanding that a bright girl with a big future be small and submissive and humbled because you have issues. That's not feminism. You're just the girls who would have bullied Weird Barbie for using her hands too much when she talks.

[teecupangel]

Desmond being bored and deciding to make a retelling of his ancestors for shaun or historians of the assassin's. Except he 'accidentally' makes it public and it goes viral, given that sometimes its Desmond and other times its his ancestors from the bleeding effect

The Assassins desperately needed a win.

After the Great Purge, the Assassins were left imprison in a sinking ship.

William Miles and Gavin Banks tried their best to protect and hide what was left but it was a losing battle.

It made people desperate.

Desperate enough to place their fate in Desmond Miles.

Desmond Miles, the runaway son of William Miles.

Desmond Miles, the descendant to Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad and Ezio Auditore.

The golden boy of the Assassins.

He didn’t really care much about him.

Rebecca Crane was his tech support so he never even met the great Desmond Miles.

He was stuck here, in the basement of a loud club in Berlin, doing his job as one of the contact persons of Erudito.

Most of the time, he just helped Erudito fuck Abstergo’s shit up.

Or try to anyway.

Abstergo does have one of the most impressive security system money can buy.

They were slowly chipping on it though.

Most of Erudito were still trying to throw rocks at the digital bullet proof system Abstergo has while he and the best of Erudito hack into another company who uses the same system to find its weaknesses that they can use against Abstergo.

They were so close to a break through.

And he may have drunk 6 or 7 energy drinks for the last 62 hours so he actually thought he was hallucinating for a moment when he clicked the link one of the Erudito hackers he was working with had spent with the message “dude, isn’t he one of yours? O.o”.

It was a youtube video.

Of Desmond Miles…

In that motherfucking (should certainly be) secret hideout in Italy.

With that motherfucking statue of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad behind him, completely clear on view.

“So you wanted to know what Ezio was doing while he was looking for Cesare Borgia, right, Shaun? You went out and I know I’ll be back in the Animus by the time you get here so I’m recording this so you can watch it while I’m stuck in the Animus.”

“So… Cesare left Roma after he failed to kill Ezio and got sent to Castel Sant’Angelo.”

He blinked.

Was…

Was Desmond Miles giving a history lesson???

Oh, fuck, he was.

And he just namedropped Machiavelli and Leonardo as Ezio’s companions who were also looking for where Cesare was transferred after he escaped and got captured again in Firenze.

And…

He had started to speak in Italian.

Not only that…

His entire demeanor, even the way he sat had changed.

He had only heard about it.

The Bleeding Effect.

Desmond Miles was bleeding as Ezio Auditore in a fucking video in the internet.

His second phone began to rang and he prayed to every holy and demonic being that it wasn’t William Miles.

No matter what William Miles say, he cannot just scrub that video from the internet.

It was obvious (6 millions views! What the fuck!!!) that someone out there had already downloaded this video and taking it down would just spark more controversy.

He looked at the number and knew exactly who was calling him.

He accepted the call and said immediately, “What the fuck, Crane. Why did Miles upload a video to fucking Youtube?!”

Rebecca groaned and he could hear Lucy Stillman and Shaun Hastings shouting in the background, most probably ripping Desmond Miles a new one.

“The phone he used to record it automatically uploads to Youtube.”

He blinked.

“That is bullshit.”

“It’s true! It’s one of Lucy’s burner phones and she didn’t even change the settings at all! It defaulted to that kind of setting!”

“No phone has an automatic upload to Youtube and you know it.”

“I know but this one does! It’s so weird! It’s like… something weird is going on here!”

“I’d believe it more if you said Miles wanted to publish it as unlisted but fucked up.”

Rebecca groaned once more.

A phone that automatically uploads to Youtube.

That was such bullshit.

.

.

(Rebecca is telling the truth. The phone is a weird one and Lucy can’t even remember where she got it. Almost like… it was always there. Dun dun dun)

[fleming-o]

Homecoming Comfort

Jessie Fleming X Reader

just cute cute cute

i do love all these request coming in so please send more🫶🏼

requested here

---

Jessie stepped off the plane and took a deep breath of the familiar Portland air. The bustling city seemed quieter than usual, a stark contrast to the chaos she’d left behind in Paris. She carried with her not just her luggage but the weight of a difficult Olympics—a drone incident, a controversial points deduction, a heartbreaking quarter-final loss, and the injury that had kept her off the field.

As she walked through the arrivals gate, she spotted you waiting, your face lighting up with relief and concern. You rushed to her, enveloping her in a warm embrace. "Hey, Jess," you whispered, your voice soothing. "Welcome home."

Jessie clung to you, feeling a wave of emotions she had been holding at bay. You could feel her shoulders shaking slightly as she tried to compose herself. You held her close, stroking her hair gently. "It’s okay. You’re home now."

You guided her to the car, chatting softly about mundane things—how the weather had been, what you had for dinner, anything to help her start to relax. The drive home was filled with comforting silence and the soft hum of the engine. Jessie’s fingers brushed against yours, a small gesture of reassurance.

When you arrived at your apartment, Jessie looked around at the familiar surroundings, her home base amidst the whirlwind of the past few weeks. You led her inside, making sure she was comfortable. You set the table for dinner, keeping the atmosphere light and calming.

As the two of you sat down to eat, Jessie struggled with her food. Her usual chatty self was replaced by a quiet anxiety that she tried hard to mask. You watched her with a gentle, understanding gaze. "Hey, Jess, do you want to talk about it?" you asked softly.

Jessie’s eyes met yours, and she finally let out a deep sigh. "I just—I don’t know where to start. The drone incident was so surreal. The points deduction felt so unfair, and then losing in the quarter-finals…it just hurts so much. And now this injury…it’s all been so overwhelming."

You reached across the table, taking her hand in yours. "I know it’s been a lot. And it’s okay to feel this way. You’ve been through so much, and it’s normal to need time to process it all."

Jessie squeezed your hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let all this affect me so much. I just didn’t expect to feel so…lost."

You moved closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You don’t need to apologize. It’s okay to feel lost and overwhelmed. What matters is that you’re here now, and we’re going to get through this together."

You spent the evening talking softly, comforting her with gentle words and affectionate gestures. You rubbed her back as she leaned against you, her breathing slowly evening out. Occasionally, she would let out a small sigh or whisper a fragment of her thoughts, and you listened with unwavering support.

As the night wore on, Jessie’s anxiety gradually eased. You helped her settle into bed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You’ve been so strong, Jess. I’m proud of you, and I’m here for you, no matter what."

Jessie smiled weakly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

You kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing away her tears. "You’ll never have to find out. We’re in this together."

In the quiet of the night, with the comforting embrace of home and the support of someone who loved her deeply, Jessie found a small measure of peace. The road ahead would still be challenging, but for now, she had found solace in the simple, unwavering love that surrounded her.

--

[oathena11-writes]

DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN NANOWRIMO

Time to talk about something I haven’t really talked about before.

Nanowrimo. You know the challenge to write 50k in a month? That starts in November, and usually people start coming out of hibernation to start planning for that now.

And to plan, they often find their way to the forums to find others who are gearing up and thinking about turning October into Preptober.

Only… the forums are closed this year. Why is that?

Well… https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vSYcdosGLoPFI_Dc--vuC9Bl4-OUFGcmHgBRt2aHSRVWBPc6su4AMFY5iDgZGyC379Zm8C7zhBd2zuf/pub

Wait sorry that’s a long document though as someone who has been keeping up with this since late October 2023 and knows a lot about what’s going on, this is the most accurate summary I know of offhand.

So… short version? NaNo has been crumbling for a while, between dismissing people’s dislike of the 2019 redesign, not handling conflict well in general, leaving MLs feeling unsupported and unappreciated, and allowing a culture to grow in which a forum mod became the sole moderator of a fast moving teen forum.

This forum mod was accused of grooming. Several people compiled evidence to show why they believed that. The staff at NaNo did nothing. They claimed an investigation happened but no action was taken for months.

I read through a thread where many concerns were discussed and barely listened to. I watched many members of the community went from hopeful and believing in the organization to angry and disheartened over the course of several months after being treated like children, being told things would happen that never did change.

Then things came to a boiling point in November, and the Board got involved. They shut down the forums and started investigating. We had hope. Then they started treating us the same way the staff had.

There are currently no known MLs as all were removed before April, as they need to be vetted and go through some training, only there’s no word on when that is going to happen.

There were barely any proper events during April and July, and some events NaNo advertised were hosted by their sponsors.

There’s a lot more that I could get into, but I think the more I try to explain the more likely I am to get it wrong and there is enough misinformation about this controversy out there.

For now, the latest is this post on zen desk about AI.

Yeah… I have no faith left. Do not even look at NaNo’s official site. They don’t deserve to think they’re getting people to participate. Especially since all they want is money these days.

If you’re looking for a substitute word tracker, I highly recommend trackbear.app. It’s still in beta, but I’ve been using it all year, and I enjoy it. There’s a goals option that includes the graph and par line we all enjoyed with NaNo, and there’s leaderboards to have fun with your friends.