#what are normal things to say in a conversation? how do you start a conversation like what kinds of things do you ask?? or say??
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yourislandgirl · 20 hours ago
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⍣*°:⋆ THIS AIN’T NO PHASE ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ || OT7 엔하이픈 x fem!reader || headcanons
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summary: how enhypen would act as reader’s down bad classmate
genre: fluff, romance, non-idol!enhypen x non-idol!reader, somewhat high school au except it’s not that in-depth, lowkey enha as simps
warnings: can’t think of anything major, attempts at humour, intentional lowercase btw
[archive]
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・❥・ 희승 // heeseung
totally the show off type, he sneaks glances at you after he accomplishes something on the first try to make sure you noticed (will end up sulking for like an hour if you were looking elsewhere)
learns new skills just to show you, like you’ll offhandedly mention something about the bass guitar in a new viral song and within a week he’ll have learnt it by sneaking into the school’s music room and using their bass. he has no clue when, if ever, he’ll get the chance to show you, but if that time comes, he’ll be prepared
definitely the kind of guy that likes testing the waters with pick up lines and lowkey flirting, he also knows he’s attractive — which is always bad news when the guy knows — so he would totally give you a beautiful smile and a corny joke of some kind, his eyes darting back and forth to study your reaction
never wanted to make a fool of himself around you until the one time he embarrassed himself a little and you let out the most enchanting laugh, he swears the skies parted. from then on, it didn’t always matter to him how he looked and presented himself, he became less critical of himself, because if he could make you smile, or better yet, laugh? that would make his day
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more under cut!
・❥・ 종성 // jay
much more of a conversationalist than you’d expect — totally starts unprompted conversations on various topics just to hear your perspective and he always asks for your opinion because it means the most to him, except . sometimes you have no opinion on some of the things he asks, so there’s just this odd silence afterwards
will usually have homecooked meals that he makes himself or has leftovers from super expensive restaurants that your other classmates have been waiting months to get a reservation to, and he always shares that food with you, like your entire friend group would get their share but he’d save the best part for you and he always asks if you liked it afterwards because he's storing that information away for potential future dates
there are far too many times he “accidentally” bought an extra snack or dessert from the cafeteria and, well, we wouldn’t want that to go to waste now, would we? so he’ll just casually slide it over to you, like it’s the most normal thing to do
very acts of service, all you’d need to do is just grumble under your breath about your pen being shitty and almost out of ink and he’s bringing out his two best pens and handing them to you. or say you guys are doing an experiment in your chemistry class, he’s immediately getting all the equipment, you don’t need to move at all, (oh, but, he loves following your lead for the actual experiment — the kind of guy that goes “whatever you wanna do”, to which you’d reply “um, technically it’s not up to me, jay. if we do these steps out of order, we could blow up the classroom” . “oh, right”)
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・❥・ 재윤 // jake
really giggly around you, like, really giggly. everything you say is hilarious to this man. stand up comedy who? he’d actually be so amusing about it too, like bro is randomly chuckling in a class where you’re not even there, just because he remembered something you said
he once tried the move of asking you for help in class. except you rightfully pointed out that he knew much more about the current topic than you did, you had no idea what he expected to learn from you — he then realised the better option is to ask you if he can double check his work or “compare notes”
the first time he caught a mistake/typo in your work, he felt a little bad for pointing it out, but he quickly came to appreciate the clear view of your concentration face when you tried to redo your answer. he'll be constantly flicking his gaze up and back down, trying to keep his eyes on his notebook but ends up tapping his pen against the empty page while he admires the way you furrow your brows while you think
always asks if you’re coming to the school’s soccer game (or football, i guess, i’m australian and we call it soccer) anyway, he spends like five minutes before every game dedicated for scanning the crowd to see if you’re there — if you do ever decide to go, know that your presence is completely unrelated to how he just so happened to score the most goals out of his team . completely
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・❥・ 성훈 // sunghoon
stares a lot, but he naturally zones out in class (to the point where teachers ask why he’s staring off into space) so you don’t always question it, except it’s clearly the best excuse he has to keep staring at you
not really outspoken but he definitely would be the type to mutter the most cringe fail jokes to the people around him and takes it as a personal victory every time you scoff out a small chuckle, has a mental list of the kinds of jokes you find funny because man is studying the trends to come up with new material
without realising, he would end up having your schedule memorised, and would totally use that knowledge to his advantage. say your science class is before his — bro is bolting out the door to get to the classroom in time to say a quick “hi” before you leave, he does it so often that you’re convinced he has PE before science, because there’s no other explanation for why every time you see him, this guy is winded like he finished a race (except for the fact that he ran halfway across the school campus for a five second interaction)
would be heavily invested in whatever you take an interest in, he doesn’t even have to understand it, he just wants to know about it because of you. say you’re current interest is modernist literature, he’d snag the perfect opportunity to ask you to explain it to him and let you ramble to your hearts content while he stares at you with the most soft expression, and he isn’t zoning out this time, he’s just pleasantly distracted by the view
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・❥・ 선우 // sunoo
would be the type to find the smallest common interest and be convinced that it means your destined to be. like, you could mention something in passing like a show or something, and if he stumbles across it in his recommendations? dude is ecstatic . because what do you mean the universe just happened to show him the exact piece of media you’re obsessed with? (you’re not, it’s literally your most casual interest, but bro is convinced)
he wouldn’t hesitate to compliment you, like he would openly admire your hair if you do something new with it, or if he hears you talk about the new earrings you’re wearing he’d turn around to look at them and give you that nod of approval and say something about how it frames your face nicely, zero shame in what others would think from his forwardness
more subdued when it’s just the two of you, he usually rants about whatever random shenanigans are going on around your school, things that he’s heard or seen, usually retold with editorial humour and a lot of sidebar comments that you wouldn’t be able to help but laugh at, definitely keeps adding to the joke until your sides are hurting from laughing together, he probably has it marked in his calendar on the day he made you laugh so hard your eyes shone with tears a little bit (an achievement in his books)
more subtle when it comes to something as risky as asking you out, he’d try and play it off as simply recommending a certain cafe or a certain movie and if he just so happened to imply that you two should go together, well, that was just out of politeness, of course … unless?
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・❥・ 정원 // jungwon
spits out random facts and genuinely believes that they’re the stepping stone to developing a relationship with you (while you sit there confused, because how do the surprise donuts your teacher brought even remotely relate to camels and their ability to drink 200L of water in three minutes??)
i think he would like trying to create a routine with you, something familiar, something that will remind you of him — maybe if you guys sit near each other, he’d always take both your workbooks to the teacher out front for you. or if there’s this special dessert at your cafeteria that he knows you like, he’ll split it with you every time it’s offered. he seems like the type that would find reminders of you in even the smallest of things so he just wishes to create a connection where you’ll feel the same
always sends you the notes when you’re missing from class, his notes aren’t exactly the neatest but they are funny. he adds like little doodles and comments (mostly for himself tbh, he'd add things like “just think of integration as differentiation’s older brother” in the margins of his maths notes or something). honestly, he had considered rewriting them neatly for you, but after you initiated a conversation about the mutilation of a portrait he did of your teacher, well, he figured any chance to talk to you wouldn’t hurt
the kind of guy who will try and send you signals through music and song lyrics, like if you post a certain song on your story, he’d pick the same song but choose a different lyric to play on his story, something more romantically coded. or if you talk about a new artist you’re listening too, he’ll find their most romantic song and say that’s his favourite and asks you listen because he thinks you’ll like it
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・❥・ 리키 // ni-ki
very quiet, you’d probably think he was mute if it wasn’t for his low acknowledgment of presence when the teacher takes the attendance. the biggest rush he gets out of his day is when he says a couple words to you in your shared classes. it would always be really quick conversations too, he’d mutter about the teacher being uptight, or complain about the worksheet being printed in black and white instead of in colour, or ask you if you’re cold before getting up to shut the window next to your desks — small, but meaningful
the type to walk up and down the same hallway five times before working up the courage to enter the room you’re in. if you asked him why he did that he’d straight up be like “that wasn’t me. anyway…” adksajd so it’s safe to say he seems a little odd but charming and he’s counting on that charm to help him pull through and land at least a movie date
super competitive in PE class and it’s like a switch will flip and he’s suddenly more suave and confident when he’s in that element so expect a lot of random sidebar conversations while you guys do warm up stretches, he’d totally be the kind of guy to walk past you and drop one of the water bottles near you before walking off to his friends, definitely brushes his hair back like twenty times, gives unsolicited advice on how you can throw better or kick better or whatever it is depending on the sport, you’d be like “[raised eyebrow] i still scored didn’t i?” and he’d backtrack so fast it would be hilarious
has definitely sketched you before, let’s be real. half the time he spends in art class is sketching you in his personal sketchbook — he’d be smart enough to not draw your face (at least in the book he brings to school), it would be something like your side profile but it’s off centre so any other person would think the main focus of his sketch is the window which you sit beside, but to him, the main focus is you. he’d sketch anything he associates with you too, say for example if you mentioned your favourite flower just casually, he’d have a whole page dedicated to various sketches of that flower, no one else would really be able to tell what all his sketches mean, they’re like puzzle pieces that only you’d be able to put together
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a.n: this took a while (been so distracted by numerous diff fandoms and a little sad bcs of mama awards but wtv) this is dedicated to my lovely mootie @sheepsgf !! the indescribable beauty that was jungwon’s solo intro in mama will forever live in my head btw, but i figured i’ve done three posts for won already aksjdjs time to do an ot7 one bcs i love them all and they’ve worked so hard !!
taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf
2024 © yourislandgirl
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bugflies00 · 2 days ago
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im getting pissed off seeing some things on twitter but seriously, where did the idea that fans have to "address" or "have a conversation" about cc's relationships and friendships even come from? the idea that we have to decode red flags and we have to address "how weird things were in retrospect"? yes this is about tommy and WS, no matter what tommy alluded to in yesterdays video that was not permission to suddenly start talking about things that you have assumed were a given. we do not actually know what their relationship was like, and we never will unless tommy chooses to say something about it. that is the ONLY word you can take for it and its frankly weird to jump on a few things he said when he was clearly venting, and use that to construct your imaginary version of how things are behind the scenes. you can show support to tommy without digging further than he chose to share its really not that hard
i do not understand in what reality its somehow a fan, a STRANGER's, responsibility to a) closely examine a creator's relationship b) pick out supposed "red flags" and c) speculate on what this interpretation entails. thats invasive and creepy. you're allowed to privately have your own opinion of peoples relationships but we dont KNOW these people. we're fucking strangers.
if anyone was hurt, we're not involved! and you know what WOULDN'T fix that potential hurt? seeing people online wildly speculating and guessing and providing their own "take" like its a fucking tv show. i understand ccs put themselves forward in a manner not unlike reality tv sometimes, but that doesnt mean you dont owe them privacy.
and i understand its not always something malicious, sometimes its out of very misplaced genuine concern/anxiety for someone who you look up to. so i want to make it really clear that you, random fan, are not being "complicit" or whatever because you watched while a creator had a friendship that you, from behind your screen, consider as unhealthy with a younger creator. even if it later revealed that your analysis was correct. you are not complicit in this scenario because you are a stranger who is not involved and has zero responsibility.
do people genuinely think making all these posts help? do you think that tommyinnit is relying on his fans to analyse for him whether his friendships and relationships are healthy or not? do you really not see how thats not our job and is completely out of line? just be normal like honestly i think he's dealt with enough
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zigrethsnotebook · 2 days ago
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How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?
Ford x Reader
words: 3,154
tags: sfw, hurt and comfort
a/n: this was the only note i made for myself before writing this: hnghnghng this is about moths now so yeah... enjoy:)
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It's been a whole year. The twins are back from their sea adventure and the kids are staying with them for the summer again. You were on your way over to the shack. Stan had written you a letter, inviting you over. He said it'd be nice to catch up, tell you and the kids all about their time at sea and that way they wouldn't have to tell the stories twice.
The stories weren't the only thing you were excited for. Before they had left Stan had encouraged you to confess to Ford, insisting that his brother felt the same for you as you did for him. But when you told him he just went silent for way too long.
"Ford?" A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Please say something?" He looked into your eyes, his gaze blank and unreadable. "I'm sorry." The words felt like a dagger to your heart. "F-for what?" You at least wanted him to have the balls to say that he doesn't care for you. "I don't see a romantic relationship between us having a future. Especially with Stan and I going out to sea tomorrow. I'm sorry."
You just nodded, taking the words in. "...This didn’t ruin what we have, did it? Will we still be friends when you get back?" Your voice was small, afraid of his answer. "I'll always be your friend." A sigh of relief. The idea of him not being a part of your life had been the reason you didn’t want to confess to him in the first place. You only did it because Stan was so convincing that he reciprocated your feelings. Turns out you were both wrong.
You shook your head, breaking yourself out of the bad memory. After almost an entire year, you had come to terms with it. Now, you were just excited to see your friend again. Excited to have a normal conversation with him again.
Back in the shack the Family was preparing everything. The kids and Soos got the snacks and drinks ready while the Twins were busy starting the campfire. Stan watched as Ford poked around in the fire. He shook his head.
"I'll never understand it." Ford looked up at his brother. "I'll never understand how someone as smart as you could let go of the person who would have been the best thing in his life." Ford sighed. They had had this talk before.
It was pretty much the only thing they talked about the first week at sea. Stan would also bring it up anytime a night on the boat was too long and too quiet.
"We have nothing in common... That and our lifes are way too dangerous, I can't bring another person with me." He saw the disapproving look on Stan's face. "It's not like I have anything to offer. I've spent my whole life buried in books and research. I don't know how to be in a relationship."
Stan scoffed at that. "What are you talking about, Sixer? You're a catch! Times change, Nerds are the new Jocks. There's a reason I was the second choice for most of the babes we met." A bittersweet chuckle escaped Stan.
Ford sighed, focusing on the fire again. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I wanted to try again, I highly doubt that they're still single." Now that was something Stan couldn't counter. Mainly because it's something he hadn't even considered. You were so head-over-heels for Ford the last time you and Stan talked, it just didn’t seem likely that you'd go looking for someone else.
The kids and Soos came outside, carrying marshmallows, crackers, chocolate and Soda. Dipper was the first to sit down on one of the logs. "I can't wait to hear of all the creatures you found! It must have been awesome!"
"You bet!" Stan grinned at the boy. "But we won't start with the stories yet, someone is still missing." Ford looked at his brother suspiciously. "What are you talking about, Stanley?" At the same time Mabel's eyes widened. "Are you saying we get to see-" She was cut off as Stan stood up and called out your name, announcing your arrival.
You smiled sheepishly and greeted everyone. The kids were super excited to see you again and Mabel ran over to hug you. You hadn't realized how much you missed them. When she let go of you she practically dragged you over to the campfire. Stan, who was still standing, hugged you as well.
"It's good to see ya again, toots." You chuckled. "I missed you, too, Stan." You broke the hug and turned to Ford who made no effort to get up or anything along those lines. Instead, you just waved at him, but gave him the same fond smile you had shown the others. "The same goes for you, Ford."
Behind you, Stan frowned at his brother, obviously disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm he showed you. He quickly put on a smile as he addressed you again. "Please, take a seat! We were just about to begin with our stories."
You sat down between Stan and Soos, who just greeted you with a simple "Hey dude". You two had become friends over the course of the last year.
Soon everyone had prepared a stick with a marshmallow and held it over the fire while Stan told the most extravagant stories of their travels. You were glued to his every word, his storytelling being how you two became friends in the first place.
You were so engrossed in the stories that you didn’t notice the way Ford looked at you. He adored you. The way the warm light of the fire illuminated your features perfectly. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle with pure joy as Stan talked about heroically fighting off some beasts. Hell, he loved you.
This wasn't news to him, of course. Ford had known this for over a year. In fact, when you confessed your feelings for him, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, propose to you on the spot. But he didn’t. Because he felt like he wasn't enough.
Ford felt like he didn’t deserve happiness after almost ending the world and he knew that he would achieve it if he let himself be with you.
Back then, after you had left, Ford had told Stan about the whole thing, who took him by the shoulders and shook him, asking him if he was insane. The next day, when they were about to leave, you had stopped by to say goodbye to Stan, but refused to speak to Ford, politely making up a reason why you had to leave again.
It had crushed him. Ford wanted to sprint after you, turn you around and kiss you all dramatically like in the movies. But he didn’t. Because he had hurt you already and didn’t dare to make it even worse.
Which, of course, had made it worse anyway. The way you had parted ways meant that you were left all alone with a broken heart. And you couldn't even talk to your best friend about it because he was on the same boat as Ford.
But now, as Ford looked at you again, he felt all the feelings he had been trying to bury beneath the ocean floor bubble back up again.
"And that is how Ford and I defeated the mighty Kraken!" Stan was standing, his hands raised to the sky in triumph. All of you cheered and clapped your hands. It was so good to hear his gruff voice and exaggerated stories again. Although, you were more inclined to believe him this time.
The evening went on with more stories, smores and lots of laughter. You were so relieved to have them back in your life again, all four of them. You had missed them more than you realized.
Eventually, it turned late and the kids began to get sleepy. The fire had also died down. In a joined effort you all cleaned the place back up, bringing the rest of the snacks and drink back inside the shack.
After putting more things on the kitchen table for Stan and the kids to put away you went outside again to see if there was anything else to get. Soos came your way and you held the door open for him as you stepped outside.
Ford was still there. "That's everything. Soos took the last of it." You nodded. "Neat." You were about to step back inside again when you felt Ford's energy shift to a more energetic one. He pointed to the porch light.
"Look at that! That's a Tyria jacobaeae! I haven't seen one of these in ages. A beautiful creature, just look at the markings on its wings, the bright red color..." Ford looked at the moth in awe and when you stepped closer you realized why.
The little black and red creature truly was stunning. But if Ford hadn't pointed it out then you never would have noticed it. "It is really pretty. But there is no way I'm gonna remember a latin name for anything." You chuckled lightly as you said it.
Ford hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, it is more commonly known as the Cinnabar Moth. Cinnabar, like the mineral, of course, because of its striking color. It wards off predators, letting them know that they're toxic."
You instinctively took a step back and Ford chuckled at your reaction. "There is nothing for you to worry about unless you plan to eat the little guy." You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "Haha, no. Doesn't really fit my diet." Ford and you shared a laugh together.
Another, considerably larger, moth joined the other one at the lamp. This one was bright white and yellow with little black dots on its wings. Ford nodded knowingly as he spotted it. "Estigmene acrea. The Salt Marsh Moth. Very pretty, but did you know that these little guys aren't very well liked around here?"
Even though it was a rhetorical question you shook your head 'no' and sat down on the couch Stan kept on the porch, letting Ford lecture you. He quickly sat down next to you as he continued. "They feed on most crops which means that farmers have to be on the lookout for them around this time."
God, how you had missed this. Just hanging out with Ford, letting him tell you all about a subject he was passionate about was one of your favorite things in the world.
Your gaze shifted from the Moths in front of you to Ford's face as he kept on talking about the little creatures. You didn’t try to keep the look of adoration off your face as you watched him animatedly explain the differences in their wingspans.
Eventually, he noticed your staring and turned his eyes to you, stuttering his speech to a halt. You chuckled fondly. "How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?" He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"You just have to open your eyes and learn to find beauty in the mundane. That way you won't ever be bored again." As if on its own your body leaned towards him. You quickly stopped yourself. He rejected you once, you didn’t need to go through that again. Ford hadn't noticed.
You forced your eyes away from his and toward the moths again with a sigh. "The only times I haven't felt any boredom were the days I spent with you last year." A tight feeling settled in your chest as you spoke the words, but you couldn't stop yourself. "And today, of course."
You tried to keep your tone casual, your voice light. Ford felt an ache in his heart. He wanted you to never be bored again, show you the world through his eyes. Show you how he saw you.
"Surely you weren't bored every day of this past year, right? I bet you went on at least one interesting date?" He tried to keep his tone equally casual. Tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.
You snorted. "Yeah, right. Who'd wanna date me?" "I would." You froze. Surely you had misheard him? You turned to look at Ford again, his expression was... honest?
You frowned. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Ford." You stood and turned, about to walk away. Ford grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Who's laughing?" You pressed your eyes shut and stayed with your back to Ford, unable to look at him.
"I just got over you. Don't make me go through all of that again." Ford felt his heart shatter in his chest. "I am so sorry." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I was a selfish asshole. And you deserved so much better. You still deserve someone so much better than me."
Ford took a deep breath, still holding tightly onto your wrist. He couldn't let you go until you knew the truth. "I, on the other hand, don't deserve your forgiveness. Hell," A bitter laugh escaped him, "it took Stan a whole year to convince me that maybe I deserve to be happy sometimes at all, even though I almost caused the world to end."
He took a shaky breath, tears pricking at his eyes. But he wasn't done yet. "I spent the whole year regretting every word I said to you that day. Because... what I didn’t have the guts to tell you then is... I love you."
Ford stared at the back of your head, looking for any movement at all that could give away how you felt about his words. But you didn’t move for a moment, didn’t spare him a glance. Without a word, you flexed your arm and pulled hard, tearing your wrist from his grip.
You walked away from him and the shack without turning back. Ford was in shambles, his legs trembling and tears flowing freely. He wouldn't have been able to follow you.
Stan and the kids had watched the whole thing unfold from one of the windows, being attracted to the sudden noise like moths to the light. Now they stood shocked, with their jaws on the floor.
Back at home you threw your shoes and jacket in a corner before collapsing onto your bed. You were angry at Ford for treating you like that, playing with your emotions for over a year. Slowly, it settled in that Ford had just confessed his love to you.
After a year of thinking he didn’t want you that way, it left your emotions all over the place. Angry, sad and with a weird feeling of relief you cried yourself to sleep.
A soft knock to your window woke you up again. It was still dark outside. It was a big window that led to a balcony. You stepped in front of it and pulled the curtains back, revealing Ford. He looked like a kicked puppy, making it impossible for you to ignore him.
You opened the window and stepped outside to him. "What do you want, Ford?" He cringed at your harsh tone of voice. "I came to apologize... again. I know I hurt you. I know I behaved all wrong. And I'm sorry." He looked up into your eyes.
"I don't expect you to fall into my arms or anything like that. You're over me and that's fine. I won't try to win you back. I-I just wanted to be honest... but, maybe that made it worse again..." Ford shook his head, starting to pace around in front of you.
You took a deep breath. It was time to just let go of your anger and instead seize the moment while you had the chance. "Ford." He turned to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. "I'm not over you."
He took a step closer as you continued. "I thought I was. But everything that happened tonight... everything you said... I still love you." You locked eyes with him and you could see the relief flooding through him as he let out the breath he was holding.
Silence washed over the both of you, neither sure how to proceed. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable either.
The dull moonlight cast a blue hue over the both of you. You looked up at Ford's hair, admiring the way the light made it glow, when a little winged creature landed on his perfect hair. A smile crept on your face and you raised your eyebrow along with your hand to his hair.
Carefully, you held your hand out to the creature, offering your finger to sit on. Ford stayed quiet and you urged him not to move too much with one hand on his chest. The animal took your offer and when you felt every one of its six legs on your finger you brought your hand back down.
You held the little moth between you two. Its wings were light-blue with dark tips. Ford smiled at the creature. "Lomographa semiclarata or Bluish Spring Moth." He put one of his hands under yours, making you both hold it together.
"Did you know that in a more spiritual sense, moths often symbolize transformation and are generally considered as a good omen?" You looked up from the moth and smiled softly at him. "Is that so?" You let the hand you still held on his chest wander upwards to his neck.
Ford nodded lightly. "They represent positive conclusions." You let out a content breath, accidentally startling the moth into flight. Both of you followed the creature with your eyes. "...And sometimes death."
You laughed and lightly swatted him on the chest with your now free hand. "You better not die on me, Ford." He placed one of his hands on top of yours that was now on his chest and the other one on your waist, pulling you closer. "I wouldn't dare."
Ford slowly moved his face closer to yours, giving you plenty of time to back away in case you didn’t want what was about to happen. But why wouldn't you, this is the moment you spent an entire year dreaming about!
You let your eyes flutter shut and soon enough felt Ford's lips on yours. They were softer than you imagined, making you smile slightly into the kiss. You moved your lips against his in a way that felt just right. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.
Ford sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing and letting himself enjoy the moment. This was the kiss you would remember forever. Especially because he would immortalize it in his journal first thing tomorrow morning.
When you both parted you felt like you were floating. You rested your head on Ford's shoulder, just enjoying finally being able to hold him like this.
"Positive conclusion, indeed."
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conretewings · 1 day ago
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A Good Name 🌟
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-Set some months after the trio's conversation that night at the bar, the guys get a visit from their friend..and new companion. My heart is broken and I need some fluffy healing okay I really wanted to write a thing with Vander meeting baby Vi sue me.
A light rapping at the door makes Vander look up and Silco glance over his shoulder. They weren't open, and unexpected knocks usually came with some sort of headache or trouble.
They catch each other's gaze in a silent question of if they should answer, and whom if so. Silco's pen hovers above the ledger in front of him, brow raised a measure, his glass-green eyes sharp and steady. They dart towards the sound before meeting Vander's again, his head tilting slightly. Vander nods and reflexively rolls his shoulders, stepping around the table he was cleaning and takes a couple steps forward when there's a second knock-only this time it comes in a very distinctive, two-three-two pattern and both men are instantly fully alert.
Vander makes it to the door in a few hurried strides, undoing the locks and throwing it open to have two people dart inside. Closing it again he whirls and steps toward them, Silco also approaching now.
"Felicia, Connol!" he huffs, irate and concerned all at once, "We haven't heard from you in over a week! We were starting to think-"
She whips a hand forward and presses a finger to his lips, "Shhhhh...she's dozing-oh, not anymore."
It's then a small, thin cry is heard, the sound suddenly the only one in the room, and certainly not normally heard.
Vander and Silco freeze for a moment before the larger man barely finds his voice, "Is...did you..?"
Felicia rolls her eyes with a smirk, "Sorry guys. Been a little preoccupied."
Pulling aside the loose cloak she wore, she turns to reveal a wide piece of fabric wound around herself, and securely bound in the middle, cradled against her chest, was a tiny, wiggly bundle. Connol smiles broadly, weaving an arm around her shoulders, "Mates, meet our daughter."
As if knowing she was being talked about, the infant's wriggling increases and she turns her head, topped with a fluff of pinkish-red hair and gapes at the adults with brilliant, sky-blue eyes.
There's a beat of silence, save for the newborn's whimpers and soft cries, as if the reverence and significance for this moment was an unspoken agreement. Felicia tenderly brushes her fingers across her cheek and the puff of hair, a soft, peaceful smile on her face.
It's Silco who breaks the quiet with a simple, understated, "Ah...I see." still at a loss how to properly react to the situation.
"Lookit her...so small..." Vander breathes, moving closer, a lopsided grin slowly growing, "Hello there little one...lemme be the first to welcome you here though eh, it'll be a bit before you're a customer yeah?"
Connol rolls his eyes with a snort, yet Silco's face hardens just the slightest degree, "Not that I'm questioning your judgement, however is it not incredibly risky to whisk a newborn all the way here?"
"We know the best routes, and besides, this is about the safest place she could possibly be." answers Felicia.
Connol nods, "Ain't no better spot than the one that means so much to us all. It's practically our home, and we felt there'd be no better for ya to meet her."
Silco clears his throat with an understanding nod in return, a smile playing at his lips as he turns and steps back toward the bar, "Well then. I do believe congratulations are in order. How old is she?"
"Five days now," Felicia answers as she and Connol go to sit at a nearby table, readjusting the sling so she can hold her on her shoulder, "And already giving me sass!"
Vander laughs, a bright, warm laugh that bounces off the walls before he sits with them, "I don't know what you expected, bein' the result of you two!"
"Oy man what's that supposed to mean?" says Connol with feigned indignation and a smirk.
Silco joins the group then, carrying a tray with several glasses-and one deep blue tumbler. He passes a glass to each of the men, then with a little flourish and gallant bow, sets the cup in front of Felicia, who laughs and does a slight bow in return.
"A toast then. Congratulations to the new parents, to your new addition, and many hopes for the future..." says Silco proudly, raising his glass, and the others follow suit.
"Oh! Right!" Vander snaps his fingers, "So, what's her name then?"
Felicia catches his eye, a glimmer both sly and yet softened with pride in her own, "Violet, of course."
Vander freezes, mouth half open in disbelief, feeling his heart leap, having to set his glass down before he dropped it, "...What?"
"You heard me." she grins, Connol adding, "We talked about it, considered others, but we kept coming back around and decided...Violet is a good name."
Swallowing thickly, Vander takes a moment before responding, "I...don't know what to say..."
Silco shakes his head with a smile, patting the larger man's shoulder, "I think he means he's honored."
"Of course I am, just also...wow. I didn't think..." Vander laughs, much more softly, running a hand through his hair, "Violet. Yeah."
Felicia turns so the newborn is facing them, "Say hello to your uncles Vander and Silco, Violet! They look like dorks, and they can be, but I'll tell you something...there's no one who cares about us down here as much, who'll fight harder for us, who will love you more, besides me and your pa, then these two."
The baby stares at them, and Vander is surprised to feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes, "Hello, Violet...what your mum said is true. No matter what happens, we've got ya."
Noticing, Silco breaks into a mocking grin, "Oh dear dear what's this? Is the great Hound of the Underground actually crying?"
"Shut it. It's dusty in here." grumbles Vander, yet unable to hide his own grin. All laugh, then the conversation carries on...
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harryssyndrome · 21 hours ago
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Darkness and You | h.s
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summery: a late night drive takes an unexpected turn when an handsome stranger takes his place in your passenger seat.
wc: 5.3k || 🌕🌖🌗🌘 Masterlist 🌒🌓🌔🌕
WARNING ⚠️ sexual references, mention of unprotected sex. MINORS DNI! you’re responsible for your own consumption, don’t blame me later. It’s your own choice.
Posted on: November 25th, 2024
Tag-List: @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 || TAGLIST IS OPEN!
Surprise lovelies! The first part from serial-killer!Harry series is here and I really hope you enjoy it. 😌 let me know how was it and if you have any ideas for other parts, I just might post some more this week itself. this is my first ever try at writing 18+ stuff tho it’s not really much so I hope it didn’t suck🤭😳 REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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You don’t do this. Any of this. You don’t pick up hitchhikers in the middle of the night. Especially men.
You’ve seen a lot of horror movies and you’ve heard a ton of news stories.
You’re not five. You know what you should and what you shouldn’t do. But you’ve made an array of bad choices tonight so why not continue it?
You don’t know what it was but something compelled you to pull over.
The boy with the curls and those deep green eyes, gets into the passenger seat, a grateful smile on his face. He looks sweet, to be honest.
“Oh, thank you so so much. I’ve been out here for so long. My car just gave out on me and there’s no signal in this shithole.” He says, his English accent very evident as he adjusts his seatbelt. “May I know my saviour’s name?” He asks with a smiles that shows a pair of dimples.
The air is thick with the quiet hum of the engine, and your fingers clench the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. You’re not sure if it’s the cold seeping into the car or the nervous energy building in your chest. Something about this feels surreal, like stepping into a scene you’d only watch from the safety of your couch. Yet, here you are, with a stranger in the passenger seat and an unspoken weight hanging between you.
“Uh, YN,” you reply, your voice more hesitant than you’d like. His accent catches you off guard again, so polished and charming it almost makes you forget the unease simmering below the surface. Almost.
“YN,” he repeats, letting your name roll off his tongue like he’s testing its sound. “That’s a lovely name. I’m Harry.”
Harry. It suits him somehow. Still, you can’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His curls are messy, probably from standing in the cold too long, and his coat looks worn, but there’s a warmth to him. Those green eyes, so striking, carry a sense of ease—like he’s the last person in the world you should be afraid of.
Still, you’re not stupid. Sweet smiles and dimples don’t guarantee safety.
“So… where are you headed?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral while silently calculating how far you are from the nearest gas station or town. Somewhere with people. Witnesses.
He exhales, the sound almost a laugh. “Honestly? Just anywhere away from here.” He runs a hand through his curls, shaking his head. “My car decided to betray me in the middle of nowhere. Tried to call for help, but of course, there’s no signal. Classic, right?”
You manage a small laugh, though it feels forced. Your instincts are at war—one side whispering that this guy is harmless, the other screaming at you for stopping in the first place.
“Well,” you say, trying to sound composed, “you got lucky I came by. Not a lot of cars out tonight.”
“Not a lot of kind people either,” Harry adds, his voice softer now. “I was starting to think I’d be out there all night.”
His words linger in the air, and for a moment, you feel a pang of guilt. Maybe he’s just another unlucky soul, stranded and hoping for a break. Maybe you’re overthinking this. Or maybe this is exactly how every cautionary tale starts.
“So, YN,” Harry says, breaking the silence again. His tone is light, conversational, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “What’s a girl like you doing out here at this hour? Don’t tell me you’re running away from something, too.”
The question catches you off guard, and your grip on the wheel tightens. “No,” you reply quickly, a little too defensively. “Just… a long drive. Needed to clear my head.”
He hums in acknowledgment, not pushing further, and you feel a flicker of relief. He leans back in his seat, letting his head rest against the window. For a moment, you think he’s going to drift off, but then he glances at you again, his eyes almost piercing in their intensity.
“You’ve got this look,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Like you’re carrying the weight of the world.”
You don’t respond right away, unsure how to take that. “You’ve known me for all of five minutes,” you finally say, trying to deflect with a weak smile. “Bit of a bold assumption, don’t you think?”
He chuckles softly. “Maybe. But I’m pretty good at reading people.”
The car falls into a strange silence again, and you can feel his gaze shift back to the window. There’s something about him—something you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s not just the way he talks or the way he looks at you. It’s the way he feels out of place, like he belongs in a story that hasn’t been written yet.
And for reasons you can’t explain, you let yourself keep driving.
There was some reason he can’t take his eyes off of you, almost as if you’re a rare piece of art he couldn’t help but admire.
“You always pick up handsome strangers in the middle of the night?” He teases with a cheeky smirk on his features.
You glance over at him, briefly, before focusing back on the road. The way his smirk lingers, paired with those dimples, feels both disarming and maddeningly charming. “Not usually,” you reply, your tone even, though you’re acutely aware of his gaze on you. “Just the ones who look like they’ve had a rough night.”
He laughs at that, the sound soft and warm, filling the small space of the car. “Lucky me, then,” he says, his accent turning the words into something smoother, like they carry more weight than they should. “Although, I think the luck might be yours. How often do you get to share a car with a proper English gentleman?”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “English gentleman, huh? You sound like a guy who gives himself that title. Let me guess, you also drink tea at every opportunity and say ‘cheerio’ unironically?”
His hand flies to his chest in mock offense, and he lets out a dramatic gasp. “Cheerio? Absolutely not. What do you take me for, a walking British stereotype?”
“Maybe,” you shoot back, your tone playful now. “I mean, you did say your car ‘gave out,’ and who even says that anymore?”
He chuckles again, his head tilting slightly as he studies you. “Fair enough. But for the record, I’m more of a coffee guy. And I don’t say ‘cheerio.’” His smirk returns, softer this time, as he adds, “I think you might be the first person to question my gentleman status, though. Most people just take one look at me and assume I’m… irresistible.”
You snort, trying to stifle your laugh. “Irresistible? You really do think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“Can you blame me?” he quips, his voice teasing but not cocky. His gaze lingers again, softer now, almost contemplative. “But I’m serious. You’ve got this… way about you. Like you’re completely unimpressed by people like me, and I can’t decide if it’s refreshing or terrifying.”
That catches you off guard, and you shift in your seat, the smile slipping from your face just a little. “People like you?”
He shrugs, the smirk still lingering but now tinged with something deeper. “You know, the ones who talk too much, crack jokes, try to charm their way through life. The ones who should be lucky just to share the same space as someone like you.”
Your stomach flips at his words, a mix of unease and flattery you’re not quite sure how to handle. You keep your eyes on the road, focusing on the distant glow of headlights in the distance. “You’ve got a lot of opinions for someone who just met me.”
“Maybe,” he admits, leaning back in his seat and letting his gaze wander out the window. “But you can tell a lot about someone in five minutes. Like how you’ve got this look in your eyes, like you’re constantly bracing for something to go wrong.”
You freeze for just a moment, his words hitting closer to home than you’d like. “You’re imagining things,” you say quickly, brushing it off with a casualness you don’t really feel.
“Maybe I am,” he replies, his voice low and calm, like he doesn’t quite believe you but won’t push. After a moment, he adds, almost to himself, “But for some reason, I can’t stop looking at you. It’s like… you’re a puzzle, and I can’t figure out the edges.”
You don’t know what to say to that, so you settle for silence, the tension in the car shifting to something strange and unspoken. Outside, the road stretches endlessly ahead, the darkness pressing in on both sides. And for the first time since picking him up, you wonder if you’re the one being read, the layers of your carefully built armor peeling away under the weight of those deep green eyes.
Harry leans back in his seat, one hand resting casually on his knee as he studies you. His gaze, though soft, feels weighted—like he’s trying to peel back layers you didn’t even know you were wearing. After a beat of silence, he speaks, his voice low and curious.
“Can I ask you something, YN?” he says, his tone gentle, almost disarming.
You glance at him briefly before focusing back on the road. “Sure,” you reply, though the way he says your name sends a faint chill up your spine.
“Aren’t you scared?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. “Picking up a male stranger in the middle of the night? Alone? I mean, you said it yourself—this isn’t exactly normal behavior.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, his words triggering the voice of reason that’s been screaming at you ever since you stopped the car. Your fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and you force a small laugh. “A little,” you admit, though your voice wavers slightly. “But you don’t seem like the scary type.”
Harry’s lips curl into a smile, one that’s almost too perfect—dimples and all. “Well, I promise you, I’m not some sort of serial killer,” he says lightly, his tone almost playful. “Scout’s honor.”
Something about his phrasing makes you laugh, and the tension in your chest eases—if only slightly. “Isn’t that exactly what all serial killers say in the movies?” you tease, glancing at him briefly with a raised brow.
Harry’s smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes—a shadow of a thought you can’t quite catch. “Touché,” he says, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze never leaves you, as though he’s memorizing every detail of your face. “I suppose it would be the perfect cover, wouldn’t it? A smile, a little charm… make yourself seem harmless enough, and no one suspects a thing.”
The way he says it sends a ripple of unease through you, and the playful smirk he wears only deepens the strange knot in your stomach. You force yourself to stay calm, trying to brush it off. “That’s… a little creepy, don’t you think?” you reply, half-joking.
Harry chuckles softly, the sound low and almost hypnotic. “Maybe. But if I were a killer, wouldn’t I have already done something by now? You’ve got me here, alone, no witnesses. Seems like the perfect opportunity, doesn’t it?”
Your heart skips a beat, and your hands grip the wheel tighter, your knuckles whitening. His voice is still light, teasing, but there’s an undercurrent to his words that you can’t quite place. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, trying to gauge whether he’s just messing with you or if there’s something darker lurking beneath the surface.
“And yet,” he continues, his tone softening again, “here I am, just a guy stranded on the side of the road, grateful for the kindness of a beautiful stranger.”
Your throat feels dry as you swallow hard, forcing yourself to respond. “Well, for your sake—and mine—I hope you’re telling the truth.”
He lets out another soft laugh, leaning back against the seat again. “Of course I am,” he says smoothly. But there’s something about the way he says it—like he knows more than he’s letting on. Like he’s enjoying this moment a little too much.
The road stretches on in front of you, the darkness pressing in from all sides, and for the first time, you start to wonder if stopping for Harry was the worst decision you’ve ever made. Because while his smile is charming and his voice is calm, there’s something about him that feels off. Like the quiet before a storm.
Harry shifts in his seat, his gaze flicking to you every so often, like he’s studying the curve of your profile, the way your fingers tap the wheel, the faint crease in your brow as you concentrate on the dark road ahead. The hum of the engine and the soft patter of the tires on asphalt are the only sounds filling the car now, a strange kind of peace settling between you two.
“How far’s the city?” he asks casually, breaking the quiet, his voice smooth and easy, though there’s a strange undertone to it—like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it.
You glance at the dashboard clock before replying, “Probably around three hours. Give or take.”
Harry lets out a soft hum, leaning back in his seat, his head tilting toward you as though drawn by some invisible force. Three hours. Three uninterrupted hours with you. It’s enough to make his heart race.
He lets the silence return, but his thoughts are anything but quiet. His mind is a storm of emotions and desires—chaotic, consuming, and entirely focused on you. There’s something about you that’s different. It’s not just the way you look, though your beauty feels like something out of a dream. It’s the way you hold yourself, the sharpness in your wit, the vulnerability you try to mask but can’t fully hide. You’re magnetic in a way he can’t explain, and the more he sits beside you, the deeper his obsession grows.
He watches the soft glow of the dashboard lights reflect off your face, highlighting your cheekbones and the curve of your jaw. He wonders what it would feel like to trace that line with his fingers. To know the softness of your skin. To see you look at him not with the occasional suspicion that flashes in your eyes but with trust. Admiration. Love.
His thoughts spiral, wild and untamed, as his gaze lingers on you. What would it take for you to see him the way he already sees you? Would you ever understand how special you are? How perfect this moment is? You were meant to find him tonight—he’s sure of it. The universe wouldn’t have aligned so perfectly otherwise.
His fingers twitch, his desire to reach out, to touch you, almost overwhelming. But no, not yet. He has time. Three hours to savor this moment, to bask in the glow of your presence, to solidify the bond he’s convinced you’re destined to share.
You’re unaware of the storm raging in his mind, the way his chest tightens with every glance at you. You think the silence is peaceful, and in a way, it is—for you. For Harry, it’s intoxicating. Maddening.
He forces himself to take a steady breath, his fingers curling into his palms as he tries to calm the fire within him. He doesn’t want to scare you, not yet. You’re like a delicate thread, and if he pulls too hard, you might snap.
So, he keeps his voice soft, his demeanor calm, though his thoughts are anything but. He smiles to himself, a small, secret smile, as he stares out the window at the endless darkness. You have no idea, he thinks, how utterly and completely you’ve captured him.
And he plans to make sure you never get away.
As the silence stretches between you, Harry's mind spirals further into chaos. He shifts again in his seat, the seatbelt digging into his chest as his thoughts race uncontrollably. His green eyes flicker to the rearview mirror and then to the empty backseat, a dark thought taking hold of him. It's ridiculous, he knows, but the image is vivid, almost too vivid to push away-the two of you tangled together in the small space, your back arching against the leather as his hands grip your hips, holding you in place.
The idea sends a heat rushing through him, and he clenches his jaw, forcing his gaze back to the road ahead. But it's no use. His thoughts keep circling back, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself. The way your lips curve as you speak, the soft rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, the faint scent of your perfume that fills the car—it's driving him mad. You're so close, yet just out of reach, and it's enough to make him want to explode.
He imagines it so clearly: the way you'd look beneath him, your head thrown back, your lips parted in a gasp as he claims you. The sound of his name spilling from your mouth, a mix of moans and screams that would echo in his ears forever. The thought of marking you, leaving his fingerprints, his bruises, his everything on you-it consumes him. He wants you to be his, entirely his, in every possible way. To make sure no one else could ever have you, touch you, or even think of you the way he does.
His breathing becomes shallow as the lust builds inside him, threatening to take over. His hands clench into fists in his lap, his nails digging into his palms as he fights to regain control. Not yet, he tells himself. Not yet. You're driving, unaware of the wildfire burning inside him, and the last thing he wants is to ruin this perfect moment.
But his eyes betray him, flicking back to the rearview mirror, imagining again how easy it would be. The backseat seems like it was made for this-for you. He could pull you back there, coax you into his arms, and let his hands explore every inch of you. He'd take his time, memorizing the feel of your skin, the way your body reacts to his touch. You'd look so beautiful, so utterly perfect, with your cheeks flushed and your voice breaking as you beg for more.
Harry exhales sharply, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He turns his head slightly, stealing another glance at you, and it only makes things worse. The way your lips press together in concentration as you drive, the way your fingers drum softly against the steering wheel-it's enough to make him want to lose control.
He shifts again, trying to adjust himself discreetly, the tension in his body almost unbearable now. His lustful thoughts are a storm, loud and demanding, drowning out every ounce of reason he has left. He's trying to distract himself, to think of anything else, but it's no use. Every thought keeps looping back to you-your voice, your scent, your body, your everything.
You glance at him briefly, catching the flicker of something dark and unspoken in his eyes, but you brush it off as nothing. To you, he's still the stranded, grateful stranger, polite and charming, sitting quietly beside you.
But Harry's chest tightens as he fights the urge to act on the consuming need inside him. His teeth graze his bottom lip, his mind racing. He's never felt like this before— this overwhelming obsession, this uncontrollable desire. And it terrifies him. But it also excites him, in a way he can't even begin to describe.
For now, he forces himself to stay still, to keep his hands in his lap and his voice calm. But his thoughts? His thoughts are far from calm. They're filled with you, with every possible way he wants to have you. And the longer he sits beside you, the harder it becomes to stop himself from making you his. Completely, utterly, and irrevocably his.
Harry’s voice cuts through the silence, a casual curiosity in his tone that makes you glance at him briefly. “You don’t have a boyfriend yet, do you?”
You raise an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question. You keep your eyes on the road, trying to process his words. “How did you know?” you ask, voice light, though you can’t quite place the reason why it feels like an oddly personal question.
Harry shrugs slightly, a devil-may-care smile curling on his lips. “Just a guess,” he says nonchalantly. “No man in his right mind would let a gorgeous girl like you be alone at night for this long. Either that or you’ve got a terrible taste in men.”
His words hit you with an unexpected warmth. You laugh, a soft chuckle escaping your lips, trying to hide the flutter of something that rises in your chest. It feels like he’s teasing you, and yet there’s a charm in his tone, something alluring and carefree that makes it hard not to feel a little… flattered.
“Terrible taste, huh?” you reply, half-joking, your eyes flickering back to him. “Well, maybe I’ve just been too picky.”
Harry’s smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his green eyes. He leans forward slightly, his voice low, as if sharing a secret. “Maybe I can be your new boyfriend,” he suggests, his tone playful but with a teasing undertone that makes your pulse quicken. “Save you from your bad taste?”
You laugh again, this time more freely, the sound light and natural. “Oh really?” you reply, shaking your head with a mock skeptical smile. “You think you could do a better job?”
Harry’s gaze flickers to you, a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he’s sure he’s exactly what you need, even though you’re not quite sure how to respond. “I mean,” he says, his smile widening, “you wouldn’t know until you tried, would you?”
The playful banter between the two of you continues, the tension that had briefly been present starting to dissipate, replaced by a light-hearted connection that feels easy and natural. But beneath the surface of the conversation, Harry’s thoughts still swirl with that same obsessive desire. He’s enjoying the game, enjoying the way you laugh, the way your eyes twinkle when you tease him back. But deep down, he’s already picturing what it would look like if he were your boyfriend. How it would feel to have you close, to make you his—completely, entirely, and without question.
For now, though, he lets the teasing continue, enjoying the playfulness between you, and the undeniable pull he feels toward you. But he knows, deep down, that this is only the beginning. This is just the start of what’s to come. And he’s more than willing to wait for the moment when you’ll be his.
Harry’s smirk widens as you teasingly reply, “Maybe.” He can’t help it; his pulse quickens at your words. He’s always been good at reading people, but with you, everything feels like an exciting game—one he’s eager to win.
He leans in a little, his arm stretching out to rest on the console between you, positioning himself closer. His breath hitches slightly as he catches the scent of your perfume again, the warmth of your presence filling the car. He’s trying to remain casual, but he can’t help it; his thoughts are moving too fast, pulling him deeper into the haze of attraction.
“Give me some hope at least, moon flower,” he says, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “Let me know I’ve got a shot.”
His eyes never leave you as he waits for your response, and when you tease him back, saying, “Okay, you do. You have a shot at it,” Harry’s grin stretches across his face, almost too excited for his own good. It’s as if he’s won something. Something he can’t quite put into words yet, but it feels like a step toward getting closer to you.
He sits up straighter, a surge of confidence overtaking him. His gaze moves over your figure with a deliberation that makes your stomach flutter. The way his eyes drink in the details of your face, your body, makes you feel… noticed. Seen.
“That’s one hell of a boost for my ego,” Harry says, his voice dripping with a mix of playful arrogance and genuine admiration. “I’ve got a chance with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze. It’s flattering, but there’s something else in his look—something deeper, something more consuming than mere compliments. It’s as if he’s claiming you in some unspoken way. His eyes linger a little too long, and though he’s trying to be playful, there’s a certain hunger there that catches you off guard.
A part of you wants to laugh it off, but another part of you… well, another part of you can’t quite deny the effect his words have on you. The way his confidence oozes, the way he seems to have you completely captivated even when he’s just speaking casually.
You force your gaze back to the road, but the tension between you both feels different now. It’s charged, electric—filled with unspoken possibilities. Harry, however, doesn’t let up. His eyes keep studying you, as if trying to decipher every little detail about you. His lips curl into a smile that’s both triumphant and knowing.
The atmosphere in the car shifts. The lightness of the teasing still hangs in the air, but there’s a deeper layer now—one that feels almost like a promise. Harry’s made it clear: he’s not here for just a simple ride. He’s here to win your attention, your affection, to make sure you know exactly how much he wants you. And as he watches you, he knows he’s already made his mark on you in some way, whether you realize it yet or not.
The air between you thickens, charged with the energy of his words. Harry's voice lowers, almost like a secret. "This might sound crazy since I hardly know you," he says, his gaze flickering from your face to your lips, then back to your eyes. "But I really, really want to kiss you."
The intensity of his gaze, the weight of his words, sends a rush of heat to your chest.
Your heart skips a beat, then races faster than before. You know it's reckless, impulsive, but it's as if something deep inside you is responding to him, telling you to act, to do something. But before you can process the surge of emotions, your foot slams down on the brake pedal without warning.
Harry's eyes widen, his body thrown forward by the sudden stop. His hands instinctively grip the console as he stumbles against the force of the car halting.
"Jesus!" he exclaims, his voice laced with shock, his pulse spiking.
You breathe shakily, your hands still gripping the steering wheel as the car finally comes to a stop. The silence in the car is thick with anticipation. Harry's heart is racing, not just from the sudden stop, but from the way you're looking at him now-there's something different in your eyes. Something that mirrors the craving he's been feeling.
When the shock of the stop wears off, Harry turns to you, his breath coming in quick bursts. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares at you.
"Why the hell did you stop the car like that, love?" he asks, his voice rough, his brows furrowed in both confusion and curiosity.
Your eyes lock with his, and something shifts. The walls you'd both been playing behind-teasing, joking-begin to crumble. His question hangs in the air between you like a challenge. But then, without saying another word, you lean toward him. A glint of something darker passes over your face.
"Because I wanted to do this," you whisper, and without waiting for any further hesitation, your lips crash into his.
The kiss is immediate and intense, born out of the tension that's been building ever since he first got into the car. His lips are soft but urgent, pulling you closer. There's no room for uncertainty anymore; only the heat of the moment, the heat of his body pressing against yours, the heat of desire crackling between you both.
Harry responds eagerly, his hand reaching to cup your jaw, fingers threading into your hair as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against yours. The taste of him is intoxicating, sending a pulse of warmth straight to your core. His kiss is fierce, as if he's been waiting for this moment just as much as you. His tongue brushes against yours, a soft, tantalizing pressure that makes you lose yourself in the sensation.
For a brief moment, nothing else matters-the world outside the car, the consequences, the lingering doubt. All of it fades away as you both succumb to the pull of each other, driven by something stronger than logic or reason. The kiss feels like a release, the pent-up tension from the entire ride coming to fruition in one passionate, desperate embrace.
When you finally break away, your breaths are ragged, both of you still close, your foreheads resting against each other. Your pulse is wild, your heart pounding in your chest, and you can't help but smile at the way he looks at you now-his eyes dark with desire, filled with a hunger that matches your own.
Harry grins, a satisfied, almost predatory look crossing his face. "Well... I guess I got what I wanted," he murmurs, his lips barely brushing against yours as he speaks.
But you know this isn't over. The tension between you both is only just beginning, and neither of you can walk away from it now.
“God, you’re so hot,” Harry mutters against your lips, the hand not on your face sneaking down to your thigh, his fingers gently squeezing the flesh through your jeans. He’s getting drunk on you, addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. He’s never before felt this way, it’s like something in him has snapped in half, the primal and possessive side of him awakening. He doesn’t want to let you go.
The kiss gets more heated, the sweet gestures replaced by desperate and hungry ones. Harry’s fingers dig into your thigh almost possessively, his head tilting to deepen the kiss even more.
His tongue runs over your lower lip, begging for entrance.
As soon as you grant him access his tongue immediately pushes inside your mouth, exploring every inch of your wet cavern hungrily. It’s as if he wants to devour you. His hand moves up from your thigh to your waist, pulling you closer, trying to get the most possible body contact.
“You’re driving me insane, princess…” Harry mumbles against your lips, one hand now gently gripping your chin, holding you in place. He’s practically addicted to the way your mouth feels on his, you’ve unleashed something primal in him, something he has trouble controlling.
“Your car is like.. a perfect spot for this, love,” Harry comments, his lips moving off of yours, down to your jawline. He begins kissing the skin there as he speaks, “Plenty of space… dark, private… you should park somewhere. I bet your backseats are really comfortable.”
There was no denying that he get want he wants and you’re now his… and this is just the beginning
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kurokawaia · 20 hours ago
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❛ RIGHT HERE ?!❜ 彡 Izana Kurokawa X Fem!Reader
WC; 1.3k+ | !MDNI! 18+ | TW/CW :: tenjiku! izana, x fem! reader, afab, reader is wearing a skirt, club setting, alcohol, suggestive, izana is quite handsy, pet names 'mahal' 'princess' 'baby', voyeurism?? hickies, readers first time in receiving a hickey, reader is timid and shy, possessiveness mention + more
⋆·˚ ༘ *𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: it's your first time relationship with Izana, you know that he's relatively experienced, and he knows that you are not. Despite Izana being quite the dominant person, he's taking it slow with you. However, you should've kept your mouth shut and waited until the two of you were home.
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You've been here for a couple hours and Izana hasn't pressured you to do a single thing in the club. He knows that it's a dangerous place to be in when you're a woman, and being as sweet and pretty as you, he is not going to leave your side.
Izana doesn't mind staying seated with you on the red velvet longue because your all tucked up against him, his arm over your shoulder while he holds a glass of whiskey on the other. It's not hot or stuffy in here, in fact, it's quite chilly due to the air-con blasting on full, so Izana as donned his leather jacket around your shoulders.
The other members of Tenjiku where everywhere, on the dance floor, directly at the bar or flirting with the waitresses. The only people who weren't, were you and Izana who were watching from the VIP floor upstairs, along with Kakucho who was sitting on the couch horizontal from us to the side.
Kakucho wasn't really paying attention, he was quite engrossed on his phone. You wondered how he even got into the club, due to how he was fourteen going on fifteen, but Izana is quite influential and he follows Izana around everywhere.
However, you weren't paying attention to anything apart from Izana and the sensual music being blasted through the speakers. Your right leg was placed over Izana's left while his arm tightens around your shoulder and you sigh in contentment.
You know that Izana is possessive of you and his actions show that, he makes sure everybody knows who you belong to, so you'll always be safe. Although, there's been a thought running through your head the entire night, you'll nibble on your glosses bottom lip while fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.
Of course, Izana noticed the moment you started doing it, but he didn't want to pry you too much, simply just engaging in normal conversation with you. But, now? he really wants to know, you've been like this for hours and it's really riling him up.
He's motived how your cheeks flushed whenever you looked up directly up at him while speaking and he knows you have something you want to say, something dirty.
"What's with you, mahal? You've been acting strange all night," Izana hums after drinking the last of the whiskey in the crystal glass before he places it down on the table, his head moving to face yours.
You shake your head quickly, placing a hand on his exposed chest as your curl over into him and you instantly regret doing that because his toned upper body looks really good. Especially in a button down black shirt which was buttoned down quite a bit.
"It’s nothing! I’m fine," you protest with a gentle smile.
Izana lets a smirk cross his lips as his hand squeezes your waist every now and then, his purple iris' glint in satisfaction when he sees you beginning to unravel. "You're a terrible liar, mahal. Spill it."
You take a deep breath while gazing down, looking away from him. "It’s just... there’s something I want to ask, but it’s kind of... embarrassing."
"Oh? Embarrassing?" he teases, lips grazing just below your ear and your heart begins to pound in your chest. "You've really got me curious now."
"It’s not a big deal or anything! I just thought... maybe you could—" you stop mid-sentence, you bury your face into the side of his chest. "Never mind, it’s stupid."
Izana leans back into the soft velvet, and he cups your chin, amusement is evident on his face, specifically his lips, he is enjoying this. "Don't do that, baby. Tell me. Whatever it is, I promise I won't laugh."
But the way he said he wouldn't laugh made you believe otherwise. "I was wondering if... if you could... give me a hickey."
Izana blinks in shock for a few moments, you've never been this forward with him, it's always Izana guessing what you want and 10 times out of 10 he is correct. However, this was a shock to him.
"A hickey, huh?" he replies, his voice low as he whispers sensually in your ear. "So... that's what's been going through that pretty head of yours."
"I just thought it might be... I mean, I trust you, and... I’ve never had one before," you stumble over your words, trying to keep your composure but the way you are pressed so tightly against him and how hot is breath is to your skin... "But if you think it’s dumb, I—"
Izana cuts you off with a soft chuckle, his hand tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze. "You think I’d let you ask me something like that and call it dumb?" his voice still in that teasing tone. "If you want one, mahal, I’ll make sure you never forget it."
"R-Right here?" you ask in disbelief. "Maybe we should wait until we get-"
You cut yourself off when you see the look in Izana's eyes, primal and need. It makes sense, this will be the most he has ever done with you and he's going feral, he's going to mark you up, everyone will know who you belong to and that you're taken.
A shaky breath leaves your mouth while butterflies stir in your tummy and lower abdomen. He's sitting there studying every square inch of your body, purple eyes gazing over your neck, your flushed cheeks.
Izana's fingers lightly trace your jawline, sending shivers throughout your body. This did nothing to quench the arousal you felt pooling in your underwear.
"You're so nervous, mahal," he coos in a low voice, his thumb playing with your bottom lip. "You asked for this, didn't you?"
You nod, your breath hitching as he leans closer, his warm breath fanning against your neck. He chuckles softly, and the sound is smooth.
Izana's lips touch your below your ear trailing to the dip of your neck before slowly trailing back up and you knew he could feel your heart pounding beneath your flesh. And he could, he was resisting the urge to take you right there and then on the couch, but he couldn't, he's promised himself to take it slow, just for you.
"Relax," he hums. "I'll take care of you, mahal."
He presses his lips against the side of your neck, soft at first, leaving a trail of kisses as he searches for the perfect spot. When he finds it—you whimper—just below your ear—he smirks against your skin before pressing harder, his lips tugging gently as his teeth graze the surface.
The sensation makes you gasp, you breath so heavily in his ear, whimpers mingling in, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of his shirt.
Izana’s grin widens, his voice dropping to a whisper. "That’s it. Just stay still for me, mahal."
He works slowly, almost lazily, his lips and tongue leaving warmth and a faint ache that makes your head spin. He pulls back briefly, his eyes flicking to the mark before he leans in kissing your neck around the red mark gently while squeezing your thigh.
Your cheeks are flushed red and your heart continues to beat fast, not slowing down. Izana cups your jaw, tilting your chin up so you meet his gaze.
"Perfect. Now you have something to show off that your mine" he murmurs before his eyes flutter shut and place a kiss to your lips, pulling away he smirks gently.
You can’t meet his gaze, your face burning, and he chuckles, pulling you closer so you’re tucked against his chest.
"You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?" Izana chuckles. A few moments pass before he begins to stroke your hair down and he leans his head down to your ear. "But don’t get shy now, mahal. I’m not done with you yet. I'm thinking about all the things I'm going to say to you, what I'm going to do to you when we get home."
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Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.
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that last sentence was a chase atlantic reference to their song triggered, if any of you cared to know...
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triglycercule · 11 hours ago
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thinking so much about horror and dust,,, gosh these SILLY goobers theyre so EYDAGHGGG!!!!! compliments to eachother,,,,,
i need them to make puns about topics that absolutely nobody should be laughing about and then DIE cackling because no waaay the punchline was a human's execution :333 (phantom papyrus is shaking his head in dismay)
need them to share stories about shitty experiences with humans and for horror to be impressed by dust's ability to keep coming up with new ways to kill his human and then for dust to also be impressed by horror's ability to handle with all different types of humans!!!
they make eachother food but dust poisoned horror's food and horror added rusted nails to his so theyre just like no you first you really should eat first i wouldn't wanna be rude no but i INSIST! they both know. it's a fun little game isnt it??? horror gets a bit scared of having to eat the food when dust's eyes turn red and cyan but it's okay because then he can just shove the shitty eggs he made into those eyes because theres literal NAILS cooked into it
sometimes they fight because thats normal and dust is annoyed at horror for hating undyne because she's a good person who just wanted to help others and horror's getting pissed because DIDN'T YOU LITERALLY KILL HER DONT YOU JUST VIEW HER AS EXP WHY ARE YOU DEFENDING HER!!! and they bicker back and forth and dust is really starting to wonder why he even empathizes with horror atp.... but its ok after a little quarrel they simmer down and move on. they dont change opinions at all the fight was for nothing
but then there's also times when they just wanna confide in each other because likeeeee theyre both shitty people who fucked up their undergrounds by their own accords and miss how peaceful life was back then. dust tells horror stories of life back before the human came because horror doesn't really remember it that well anymore and horror speaks to phantom papyrus through dust so he can pretend that this is just a conversation between sans and papyrus and everything's okay for just a moment. they both linger onto their memories of how things were before everything went to shit even though horror can barely remember and dust hates his previous self back then,,,,,
dust thinks horror's sooo much better than him for not literally mass murdering everyone but then goes around and stink eyes him for forcing his snowdin to eat humans and then leave the rest of the underground to starve. WHY DIDN'T YOU DO BETTER HORROR WHY DIDN'T HELP EVERYONE ELSE. horror scoffs because even though he kinda lowkey gets dust's philosophy of saving everyone and stopping the human through gaining LV he still killed everyone??? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO THEM YOU IDIOT SHOULD'VE JUST FOUND ANOTHER WAY OR LET IT HAPPEN!!! the way they understand eachother on paper but then in reality despise what the other did,,,,,
ok SO WHAT if they encourage eachother's delusions. SO WHAT if they pretend the past never went away so WHAAAAT!!! it doesn't matter at least they found someone who can match their freak,,,,,, dust and horror peak duo PEAK DUO DARE I SAY OK
#i held a gun to my head to prevent myself from typing horrordust in this#this isnt HORRORDUST as in like. idk HORRORDUST horrordust. likeeeee#this could be romantic this could be platonic this could even just be them hating on eachother. whatever the fuck they got going on???? idk#i saw calvateyla say on twitter that since dust remembers his humans number#he'd spam them with posts on the undernet basically bragging to their face#and i was like OH SHIIIIT YOU PETTY ASS BITCH!!!! it reminds me of horror's hint system and psychological quips#GOD these 2 have so much potential outside of just the usual dust bunny and bear horror dynamic#guys please guys please. horrordust is peak guys please PLEASE EXPERIMENT WITH THEM#i really like the first little thing about the pun. i can imagine my designs of dust and horror laughing it up because of that#AND THEN HER HEAD GOT CUT OFF! cue horror dying and dust wheezing and then he chokes on sone dust and phantom papyrus is just like smh#and this is all just by horror's sentry station and its damp and dreary and god it sucks. this moment doesnt make it better#but at least they have shitty puns.... at least. my pun loving fucks#triglycercule NOT shoving killer into this??? blasphemous i need to find a way to force him into these hcs#well it's kinda hard considering a lot of these are them bonding over their previous identity as sabs#and killer doesnt WANT to be sans!! he's NOT SANS BRO. and i dont think he would consider them sans either#no matter HOW CLOSE dust looks to being him no matter HOW SIMILAR horror's speech patterns are THEYRE NOT SANS#that clean consise answer with no nuance is surely better than just him ignoring the issue of if theyre sans or not#eitherway killer struggles since the 2 are so open to being sans it's almost like theyre ruining the CONCEPT of sans#sans is supposed to make puns but should they be puns about the death of humans??? HELP???? killer's crashing out#everyday i discover a new aspect of the murder time trio and i wonder why none else do. someone geek out with me bro#i need to hold back my thoughts about dust and horror corrupting the idea of sans bc i have another post#where that little ramble would be more appropriate. i'm horrordust maxxing bro. i'm hrdtpilled#THREE posts this week about horrordust..... whaaaat the helllllllll..........#AND a mini comic about them i never posted AND art of then wearing weird clothes??? this is my horrordust week bro#tricule hc#horror sans#dust sans#murder time trio#utmv#sans au
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livingislands · 2 days ago
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Hi pookie 🫶 do you have a favorite AU for your punch out blorbos? Like sci-fi mech au or something?
First off hi pookie 🫶😘
Secondly yes and while nothing is like super thought out yet I so have basic ideas
WIRE-FRAME
I think i rambled to you about this during vc lol but I have different versions of it
VERSION 1:
Mac gets into an accident (when or how is yet to be determined) and idk the people doing his surgery or freaks so they're like "hey yeah this kid isn't going to make it....UNLESS☝️‼️‼️‼️" and they basically do a consciousness transfer where his mind his put into a half hologram half machine form which has a wire frame base. Mac continues about his normal life but idk something happens that causes his "skin" to freak out mid combat and reveal his actual form. Spiraling ensues as he begins to question literally everything about himself and his identity (both as a living, breathing, human and as Little Mac). The other boxers understandable freak out, because holy shit Little Mac got into a life threatening accident, but HOLY SHIT HE'S A ROBOT NOW?????? There's definitely mixed reactions to the information: pity to his condition, apathy(more so defensively because if he's a robot (like he literally has no flesh and bones. Not even a brain) Then who or what were they talking to? Is he an unfeeling hunk of metal? Is how he reacts, each laugh, roll of the eyes, or tear truly his? Or is it simply a reaction because if Little Mac behaved as such, than it will as well), or maybe even fear? Stop watching terminator you guys this is different.
VERSION 2:
Similar concept except Little Mac knows what he is. He doesn't know anything beyond one day waking up in a lab with countless people looming over him. They run tests on him, mumbling to each other things he couldn't understand. They called him something, he's forgotten what, but they'd call him 'Mac'.
He's a machine made and built to be an unstoppable fighting force. That's his entire purpose. He was 'given' to Doc under the pretense of being an underdog who wants to take on the title of champion(his story being to honor his mother and to prove he's something more beyond his circumstances. How ironic). No one is aware of his true nature, but Mac isn't concerned with concealing who or what he is.
As per the rule of humanesque robot, he slowly but surely starts to feel. the warmth of Doc's hand on his shoulder as he tells him "well done, son", the smooth coffee going down his artifical throat as he converses with Joe. These things shouldn't matter, shouldn't overheat the machinery beneath his skin, yet it does.
(Spoilers if the gang ever finds out he's a robot (without knowing the proper context of his creation) they are for sure avoiding him which would make Mac feel absolutely horrible 🫶 cuz his creators were right he is just a machine who serves no purpose beyond what he was made for. He has the strength and capacity to kill, but doesn't not out of kindness or connection, but because he's told "not yet". Is he really his own person if at the end of the day, he does as he's told?
I technically have other ones but they're more "this would be fun" rather than fully fleshed out or thought about for more than 5 minutes: Beastars, MHA, a horror-esquw au (i wanna make Glass Joe a freaky porcelain doll like thing let me have this)
Then ig this would count as an au but those "everyone lives together in one house" things. I need to specially because how dare everyone be at minimum states away to literal countries across water away????? How can I have my found family ease of access if Lil Mac gotta clear out a week, get a plane ticket, and pack his shit to hang out with Great Tiger???? Literal bullshit I say chat
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itsalwaysforyou · 9 months ago
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just remembered a wip i had which was jay at uni meeting normal people and desperately trying to act cool and normal whilst internally screaming about being in a whole new place with all new people and not having his gang with him
#i only wrote one scene where jay meets one of his flatmates#and he’s trying to make casual normal conversation & asks her who her parents are#bc that has always mattered! on the isle or at auradon prep your parentage was also a Conversation Starter#and the girl is just like ……what. why do you want to know that#but she tells him and jay makes it into a joke like hehe oh yes i met them at a soirée once. amazing company#and the girl is like ok who are YOUR parents. knowing full well who he is#and jay says that his dad fosters puppies. and the girl says that sounds like a good life and he’s like ohhh just the BEST#i really. love exploring jay at uni i’ve written a couple of things i’ve never finished#like!!! for the first time for years he’s well and truly all alone!!!!#and at least the isle & ap had similarities. uni is just full of very normal people who don’t particularly give a shit#and jay who is like THE guy who cares about everything so much all the time and how people are reacting to him and he’s desperately trying+#to be so cool and unbothered whilst trying not to revert to his isle tactics regarding people who may be threats#just. being somewhere so so new. with no one he knows. everyone else is so far away. and jay is missing his gang like he’d miss+#his body parts. and it’s like. jays always buried his own emotions & hurt so he can better protect his gang#and now he has no gang to protect#and he is just laid absolutely bare. and also constantly stressing about not being there for the others#i just think he’d have an absolutely awful start to uni <3#descendants#jay son of jafar
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toddtakefive · 6 months ago
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btw todd’s reluctance to join the dps because he doesn’t want to read (which is then accommodated for) and is scared to put himself out there (which is also worked through) being read as todd not wanting to go AT ALL, and thus neil making the proper accommodations (“todd anderson, who prefers not to read, will keep the minutes of the meetings”) and encouraging him to step out of the box that stifles him being seen as ‘forceful’ or like he can’t take no for an answer makes me insane with rage
#and him trying to stop neil from asking if todd not reading at the meetings is okay isn’t him wanting not to go#its him not wanting neil to ask because (as someone with social anxiety) it’s EMBARRASSING ASF for someone to ask for things on your behalf#literally just think about it as the meme of ‘when i tell my friend im hungry and he tells his mom that *i* want food instead of both of us’#and the whole ‘neil not knowing how to take no for an answer’ thing…… dont get me fucking started#the kid who’s had to take no for an answer his whole life? the kid whose first proper scene IS him taking no for an answer? are you serious?#being encouraging and accommodating and (admittedly) a little pushy when he’s got his mind set on something—#—is NAWT the same as not being able to take no for an answer or bulldozing through conversations with people#he and todd DO listen to each other in those conversations theyre just on opposing sides—#—because their understandings of the world don’t fully align at that point in time/the movie#which is totally fucking normal?????? because later on they DO properly align?????????#i feel so crazy about this every time i see someone say todd didn’t want to go the dead poets meetings because it’s so obvious he DID#he was just scared#and you know what maybe it IS a little forceful#but given how dedicated todd is to shutting off and hating and isolating himself he NEEDS a little forceful to be broken through to#if no one ever pushed me to do things when i was scared (as irritated as it can make me) i’d never do SHIT dude#and obviously todd is the same way because he ALL BUT OUTRIGHT SAYS AS MUCH#‘i appreciate this concern but i’m not like you’ IS about neil’s voice and opinions mattering to people but it’s ALSO about—#—him being outgoing and trying new things and putting himself out there#WHICH TODD WANTS TO BE ABLE TO DO!!!!!!!!#the moral you take away from todds growth is NOT that he has to change to be accepted because he DOESNT#its that he has to gain the confidence and belief in himself to grow and become the version of himself he WANTS to be#he NEVER changes on a fundamental level to make others happy (although his growth does make others happy) he just opens up more#and i dont know WHY some people think his arc is becoming a completely different person#like yall PLEASE#this isnt even an anderperry thing this is an issue even if you read them completely platonic#i blame the FUCKASS novelization…. dps book you will always be hated by ME#dps#dead poets society#neil perry#todd anderson
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nomairuins · 3 months ago
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i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is
#ive been overthinking 1 light and casual mildly funny response to something but im worried itll come off as disrespectful and dismissive And#make me seem stupid and uncaring all at the same time. and also be seen as insulting. but like idt itd be insulting right like. im not#saying what it is so ig for all you guys know im like I mean if i say All your shit suck ball and i hateit kys. <- thats not the thing i was#going to say#like it doesnt matter now the window for response is closed now but i feel stupid bc i shouldve just said it it was light and casual. im so#bad at keeping convos gojng im convinced im not going to survive. In like a light and casual way like in a He will not make it through the#winter joke way. dw. im not going to do anything bc i had One failed interaction. if i was going to do anythjng itd be bc of the 8000000#other failed interactions. But im not. anyways. it just makes me feel so useless 😭 like i want to respond i want to talk to ppl so bad but#i feel like i mess things up Irreparably every time i speak OR i take too LONG overthinking my response and then i just cant respond bc its#been too long and then its been 3 years and the only messages ive ever sent r my intro message and 1 message 2 years ago that nobody#responded to at all. or the conversation stopped immediately after. and like i used to be better at this i was lkke. talkative in a couple#muts servers like. i talked 2 ppl daily in those servers and i had fun and like. I was an important part of the group and i felt like it#but i just feel like such an outsider for Everything and its literally my fault bc i cant just like. Talk. The explosion. bc im always like#im gonna try im gonna do it this time im gonna get it back im going to finally be Good connor and im going to fix it all and make a Good#solid friend group and ill find HEALTHY LOVE and i wont selfsabotage and ill move out and have a job and ill balance it well and ill start#all my hobbies and ill have a great routine and be so loveable and on top of it and not stressed and content and happy and roll with the#punches and then theres a single hiccup and im like Well fuckinf whatever im going to be an unemployed hermit forever and im going to die b4#im 25 anyways so Who cares and also im digging a little hole for myself. and its like. AUGHH ik i just have to persevere and overcome but#even saying that feels so stupid its not fucking hard its Talking to ppl. like. i literally if ive ever said a word to you i had to think#avt it and strategize how to respond right even for like. like. it makes it sound like its not genuine it is#like for example i want to say hey i love your art! but then i freak out and im like thats not normal thats like a rly generic comment they#hear that all the time theyll thjnk im being polite and my brains like hrmmm rewrite Your art changed my life. It shaped me. Ill never be#the same. Nad im like ok too far overcorrected go back and the sentence generator is like Your art has colors 💯 like. GOD. WHY IS IT SO#difficult. and then usually i either just dont say anythinf and feel awful abt it 4ever OR i send it on anon and then i spend like 15#minutes ibsessively slightly tweaking the apelling and capitalization and punctuation to make sure it doesnt seem like its me just in case#it Is the worst possible thing to say but then i see the response and itll be like AWWW TYSM :] THIS MEANS A LOT or whathaveyou and i feel#stupid bc i couldve just Told them this to their face and it wouldve been a good positive interaction we had. but instead i had 2 hide and#tyoe entirely differently so they couldnt sniff me from my typing style. and it soesnt even feel like the thanks is actually 4 me bc i#tweaked the message sm. and it still makes me happy that the oersons hapoy but its like. that couldve been a nice mutual interaction#like not that i need a personal ty i compliment ppl when i Want to compliment ppl and when its genuine yk. i dont do it so i get mutualpoint
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bforbetterthanyou · 7 months ago
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Someone remind me sometime to post my essay about the way people talk about Henry VIII
#i’m a disability studies major#and one of the most common topics of conversation in dis studs#is the relationship between disability and villains#and that people with disabilities are often made out to be villains#but villains are also made out to have disabilities#because disability is a manifestation of inner evil#shakespeare famously did this with r3#but it’s an idea that goes back pretty much to the bible#and this idea is so ingrained in our culture we do it withiut thinking#and people absolutely do this with h8#calling him a monster…guess what?#that’s a manifestation of this idea#harping on about his weight and using ‘fat’ as a perjorative?#that’s also a manifestation of this#for people that don’t like h8; it’s not enough for him to have just done bad things#he also has to be grotesque and deformed because that just proves how evil he really was#it’s funny the number of times people have talked about h8 in this way to me#and i’m like…girl if only you knew that i’m a disabled person whose academic career is literally dedicated to this very subject#and you’re just feeding me even more evidence that proves my point#but i digress…#henry viii#also don’t even get me started on the people who have gotten mad at me for saying h8 was disabled#because as well as people who villainize disability#there are also people that sanctify it#and think that all disabled people are perfect little angels who can do no wrong#(the overwhelming message you get from doing disability studies is that people’s attitudes on disability are just fucking WEIRD#and why can’t anyone just be NORMAL)#disability#disability studies#i wonder how many people actually read the tags…
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dbphantom · 6 months ago
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you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight
#so really this is all your fault /lh /j#i love thinking about h2o tho so im happy#VERY FUCKING TIRED THO WISH I COULD SLEEP#i think my brain is kicking into overdrive after being filled with cotton the past 3 days which. hey im glad ur back bud#CAN YOU SHUT UP NOW I NEED REST#i was just thinking because im probably not posting that essay i will summarize here (i saw#that privating it made it lose like 4 recently edited paragraphs and i don't want to type all that out again my memory isn't good enough)#it just boiled down to the pods basically making a self fulfilling prophecy by orphaning their sons and making them increasingly#desperate for connections to other people like them which is why i think erik behaves the way he does esp when ondina is around#like i am not excusing his actions in the slightest dont get me wrong here he really fucked up BUT#his last conversation with ondina before he goes to the chamber kind of sold that idea to me#how he scoffs at her saying rita says it's dangerous because she's 'old school' and of COURSE old school mermaids think all mermen are evil#and then starts adding on how he wants to do this for HER and get her home back for her by controlling it#like a bit of an add-on at the end to try and convince her#i think what he really wants is to be hailed as a hero. you know. validation and acceptance from the ppl who originally abandoned him#the OGs who made him feel like an outsider. the ppl who ripped everything away from him just bc of the way he was born (which is prob why#when he's trying to convince zac to help him he keeps bringing up their ancestors bc that's what unifies them)#i don't think he's an evil dude per se i think he thought stealing the trident stone from rita's grotto would be small peanuts in the past#once he finally got the pod to come home bc he genuinely (mistakenly) believed he COULD control the power of the chamber#i also think that's why the camera keeps focusing on his face when he's watching the others panic over#zac's sacrifice and i think he is feeling jealousy bc they are paying attention to him and not Erik#like that's not the face of someone who deeply regrets what they just did. my guy is just sitting there like 'that should be me rn'#i think that is why he also sounds so desperate to make things right with ondina afterwards. iirc he's just like 'wait no we can start ove#RIGHT?' and she's like 'uhhhh... no??????' (valid). my dude is lonely as fuck and he finally found a group of ppl like him and he messed up#big time just trying to get their attention and affection bc he couldn't just be normal abt it he had to go big or go home#like i kind of feel bad for him in a way#but i feel bad for everyone#i felt bad for denman the other day! that's how bad this is getting!!#i mean come on imagine making the scientific discovery of a LIFETIME only for all that shit to happen in a row#especially after you get your comeback. they just go right back to fucking you over again
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frogayyyy · 2 years ago
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will my mum ever understand that i don’t like talking (as in it’s really physically difficult) sometimes, especially in the morning, and not get upset with me and make me feel guilty about it despite telling her countless times that this is why? 😃
i just vented in the tags sorry bout that :S
#i wouldn’t say non verbal but pretty close#it’s the same with everything#she just doesn’t understand at all and it’s so draining :/#she constantly makes me feel bad for trying to set boundaries so i just give up#like no i genuinely can’t do some things without help no matter how many times you explain it to me i’m sorry?#no i don’t like that food because the texture makes me want to rip my hair out#i want to try different foods i just have bad anxiety about it and you making comments about it doesn’t help#yes i do need to have headphones or earplugs in most of the time bc sometimes it’s unbearable not to#yes i want to spend time alone in my room bc a) it’s a normal thing to do and b) it’s the one place where i can just be myself n not mask#no i’m not ignoring you you actually just interrupted a conversation i was having with my friends#‘i wish you would talk to me more about things’ I WONDER WHY I DONT#and i can’t even say any of this to her because she’d just cry and tell me what a bad mother she is#like… yea exactly#don’t even get me started on queer stuff#yknow i came out two years ago as not straight#and she hasn’t said a single thing about it since#not even vaguely supportive#i can’t even remember if she told me she still loves me#she said ‘i don’t know what to say’ and left me sobbing by myself#i have to censor myself around them bc i still don’t know how they feel about it#the worst part of it is that i convince myself she isn’t that bad so i just forgive her#and never do anything about it#even now i’m thinking ‘ yea but she genuinely isn’t that badi’ 🤡#i want to leave so bad or at least not be in the same house#but i’m not financially independent yet#and i genuinely don’t know if i could cope living on my own#:’D#just gotta deal with it for now#thank god for this safe space 🙏 love u guys#about the only thing keeping me (partially) sane atm
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quatregats · 8 months ago
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Having a real autism moment over the idea of doing fieldwork
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thethingything · 1 year ago
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apparently sometimes I will just fall asleep for 2 hours, have a dream that consists entirely of having a lovely conversation with someone I really want to talk to more, then wake up, realise the conversation never happened, also remember how much I struggle with starting conversations sometimes, then just end up getting frustrated and upset about it
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#vent post#dream posting#I'm trying to get myself to be better at approaching people I want to talk to#and I'm trying to internalise the whole ''if you want to do it but you're scared then do it scared'' thing#but I also am just better at starting a conversation if I have a specific thing I can send someone or ask about or whatever#trying to send completely normal stuff like ''hey! how's it going'' feels so painfully scripted we start panicking about it sounding weird#which I've just realised probably came from some specific experiences as a teenager... fuck 🙃#apparently sometimes you get to randomly make a fun little connection between struggling to start conversations now#and being bullied by family members for any part of your speech that sounded ''scripted''#despite being the ones that taught you to use those scripts to start conversations in the first place#''you should open conversations like this and ask these questions'' and then we'd do exactly that and get made fun of in front of everyone#I fucking hate this. oh yay we were bullied for saying things like ''how's it going?'' and ''how are you today?''#and ''what have you been up to lately?'' and pretty much any other basic conversation opener#and now we can't start a fucking conversation the normal way because we feel too stiff and awkward and like we'll be judged for it#because we'd ask how someone was doing and be laughed at in front of everyone for sounding ''scripted'' and ''fake''#awesome. now I need to process all of that bullshit too#I'm realising how much we got bullied for our speech patterns in general and oh my fucking god
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