Tumgik
#I've had this conversation too many times
moonchildstyles · 3 days
Note
I would simply die for an Aster blurb about them moving in together and christening their new room
wordcount: 9.4k+
—————
(Y/N)'s body felt heavy by the time she stacked the final box in what was now her new bedroom. She couldn't help herself before she was flopping onto the bare mattress on the floor, her back popping as soon as she laid back. 
It'd been a long day and a half between transporting the boxes, breaking down furniture, and cleaning out whatever she wasn't taking with her in the move. The last step had been spending the morning unpacking what she could and organizing the remaining boxes. Harry was doing the hard work of putting together the furniture they'd just broken down, and setting up the new pieces they picked up to fill out the rest of their space. 
Mitch and Sarah had helped as they could, but they were readying for their own move. Now that (Y/N) and Harry were in their own place, Sarah would be moving in with Mitch in the house, leaving their apartment empty at the end of the month. 
(It had been a tearful conversation when they realized neither of them would be signing onto the lease once more, (Y/N) especially saddened at the thought of the first place she considered a real home now sitting empty. Her reassurance came in the form of knowing Sarah would still only be fifteen minutes away from her new home, and she would be with Harry now—her real home, if she wanted to get sentimental). 
Staring up at the ceiling with her limbs spread out, (Y/N) took in a long breath. 
It was odd already, seeing the differences in the ceiling despite the texture not being too far off from what it was like at her apartment or Harry's old house. Even the mattress under her wasn't the same, Harry having urged them to get a bigger one—even more than the one he used to have. Though the walls were still bare, she already knew how different it would be from either of her previous spaces; more black would be involved than she ever imagined herself living in. 
All the change had her bones aching that much more. 
"Break time?" 
Craning her neck up, she spotted Harry standing in the doorway wearing a small smile on his lips. Though he had his hair tied back with one of the many scrunchies he'd stolen, stray curls still stuck to his temples, attracted to the sheen glossing his skin. No eyeliner darkened his gaze at the moment, but the sleeveless cut of his shirt allowed all of his tattoos to sit in the morning light. 
God, she was going to have to buy curtains soon, too. 
"I guess," she sighed, flopping back onto the mattress. 
Harry let out a huff of laughter, his footsteps giving him away as he crossed the room only to flop beside her. 
He laid in silence next to her, looking at the same ceiling they would be gazing at every night together. 
"What are y'thinking about?" he asked, his voice a murmur. 
(Y/N) swallowed, reaching for his hand between them. "We're moving in together." 
She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "I know." 
Hearing his own joy, she couldn't help the smile touching at the corners of her lips. "You're excited?" 
He pulsed his hand around hers. "Of course I am—I've been excited since Barcelona. 'S me and you now, baby." 
She liked the way he talked about this change, shaving the nervous edge from her thoughts. Change didn't sound so bad if it meant she was doing it with him. "You'll never have to drop me off anymore."
Letting out a plume of laughter, Harry rolled over to hover above her. Stationing his elbow by her head, he placed his cheek in his palm, squishing his smile as he gazed down at her. 
"I know—you'll be stuck with me all the time now." 
"You'll be stuck with me," she countered, voicing one of the thoughts that'd been floating through her head these last weeks as the move became more real. What if, once the honeymoon wore off, he'd realize he didn't like living with her as much as he'd hoped? 
"Sounds like a dream to me," he told her, readily fending off her unsaid worry. "How long do y'think 's gonna take for you to start getting up early with me, or for me to start sleeping in with you?" 
A small huff of laughter fanned from her lungs. "I don't know—you tell me, because I'm not getting up early like you unless I have to." 
"We'll see," he said, placing his free hand on the soft of her cheek, "It'll only take a couple mornings of breakfasts before you're up with me every day." 
He had her there, truthfully. She loved breakfast, and she wouldn't put it past him to use it against her in an effort to change her sleep cycle. 
Leaning into his hand on her cheek with her eyes matching his above her, she felt herself soften up that much more. "You're really happy, though? No cold feet?" 
Harry's expression leveled out, sincerity in his eyes. "'M more than happy, angel. Really, I've been thinking about this for a long time with you. Get t'have you all the time now—everything feels real now. 'M excited." 
It was the light in his eyes, the way he didn't flinch from her gaze or trail away, that had her chest tightening. His words felt like a vow to her ears. Everything did feel real now—in the scariest, most exciting, nerve-wracking, dream fulfilling way. 
This was all she'd ever wanted, to have a home filled with love and trust. Harry would make that a reality for her, starting with this move. 
"You're happy?" he prodded, thumbing over her cheekbone. 
"Really happy," she affirmed, nodding her head, "Scared, but in a good way." 
He tipped his head as he listened to her, a dimple popping into his cheek. "'S a change, but a good change, right?" 
"Yeah," she smiled, "Good change." 
Ducking down, Harry pressed his lips to hers. Despite the long morning they had picking through and transporting boxes, he didn't lack any energy as he poured that assuring affection through the kiss. 
"Love you," she murmured when he pulled away, lashes fluttering in a blink. 
"Love you, too," he drawled, voice a low rumble just for her. "After I finish putting up the shelves, we can get lunch." 
Maybe it was nostalgia or reaching for something familiar amidst the change that had her suggesting, "Little House?" 
His grin stretched with dimples in his cheeks and bunny-like front teeth on display. "Anything y'want, lovebug." 
She could definitely get used to hearing that. 
—————
"What's next on the list?"
Peering at her phone with knitted brows, (Y/N) scrolled through the list of all the things they needed to pick up during their grocery trip. 
"Um," she mused, making sure she was noting everything they had packed away in the trolley already, "Pasta." 
Harry hummed in response. "This way, I think," he murmured, leading them down the aisles until she saw the many different boxes and bags displayed on the shelves. 
Parking the cart on the opposite side of the aisle, Harry looked at the different options before them with a critical eye as if he were looking at more than just varying shapes of pasta. 
"Do y'care what kind?" he asked, reaching for a blue box of plain spaghetti on the shelf.
"Not really, but," she started, spotting her preferred brand just a few boxes down, "The green box is better." 
Following her line of sight, he found the brand she referred to just for his features to pinch. "Wheat noodles?" 
"Well, yeah," she said, her own brows meeting in the middle with a pinch. 
"You... actually eat that?" Harry asked, almost looking offended at this new detail he found out about her. 
"They're good," she countered, defensive.
Harry shook his head, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "I always thought those were Sarah's when I was over." 
"Do you not like them?" (Y/N) pressed, popping a hip the longer he stood there arguing with her.
"No one likes wheat noodles, love. You're the first person I've ever met that eats them by choice." 
"They're good!" she repeated, a whine to her voice, "Stop being mean." 
"I'm not being mean," he shook his head, grabbing for one of her wheat boxes along with one of his regular blue boxes, "Jus' didn't know that about you. Next, you're gonna tell me that y'only eat green bananas or plain yogurt." 
When she didn't answer as he loaded the cart with their new finds, Harry glanced up at her with amusement in his eyes. 
"(Y/N)..." 
"Green bananas last longer," she cemented, "And plain yogurt is really good with honey. Don't be mean." 
Harry only shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he steadied the trolley with his free hand. "You're cute, angel. That's all." 
He pressed a small kiss to the top of her head in the privacy of their aisle, his smile felt against the strands. 
"And, a little weird." 
Looking up at him with accusing eyes, (Y/N) whined out his name. "No, I'm not." 
"Sure," he smiled, teasing her that much more before dotting a kiss to the tip of her nose, "What's next?" 
(Y/N) hoped he didn't catch the smile gracing her lips when she shook her head. 
—————
Though it felt a bit silly to be so dressed up with nowhere to go, (Y/N) couldn't resist twirling before the mirror in her bedroom.
Her dress was short, a stiff corset making up the bodice while the skirt flared around her hips until hitting the mid of her thigh, everything draped in baby pink satin. Her arms were left free aside from a barely there gathering of lace that sagged over her biceps, a faux sleeve that did nothing to keep the bodice high on her chest. More lace was overlaid on the rest of the dress, threaded with shimmering gold to sparkle every time she caught the light.
It was a dress she'd had for over a year now, having never worn it before tonight. It always felt much too fancy for anything she'd go out for, and much too extravagant for her to feel comfortable in. 
But, tonight was date night. Their first date night in their new home. It felt like a special enough occasion to finally grow the confidence to don the gown, even if she was still a bit nervous that she was doing too much. Especially since this date night would be spent in their dining room. 
Satisfied with the way her hair fell and her cheeks held a dewy flush thanks to all of the cosmetics on the bathroom counter (Harry still needed to finish building her vanity, so until then she was taking over their ensuite), she padded out of the bedroom on socked feet. 
They had almost completely finished packing, only. a few boxes and pieces of furniture waiting. Everything was a perfect mix of the two of them, (Y/N) thought. There was a pink throw blanket over their grey couch, a cherry blossom shaped lamp on their glass coffee table, a fluffy pink cat bed housing a black bat toy. There were photos of them littering the walls, some from their time in Barcelona, but many from the quiet moments they spent at home with one another. While (Y/N) had never imagined living in a home with so much black and other muted tones, everything served as a reminder that this was a home she'd made with someone else—someone she loved. 
She'd learn to live with it, she decided. 
The kitchen was warm as she padded over the tiles, the light in the oven on as she peeked through the glass to check on the lasagna cooking inside. With the extra cheese bubbling on top, she figured—hoped—the dish would be ready in a few minutes, giving her just enough time to plate and serve everything when Harry walked through the door. 
Evie circled her feet as she moved towards the dining table, nearly tripping (Y/N) just as Harry warned her his kitten would attempt to do the first time (Y/N) met her all that time ago. 
"Careful, Evie," she scolded her with a gentle tone, reaching down to pet between her ears, "I almost kicked you." Ever the beggar, Evie only chirped up at her with big eyes the way she had when (Y/N) was layering the lasagna in hopes of earning some extra scraps. "Later," (Y/N) promised her, carefully stepping around Evie, "After it's out of the oven, I'll give you some pieces before your dad sees." 
The table was already set, complete with candles and intricate place mats. There was a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge (did wine even go in the fridge? She'd have to ask Harry later) next to the strawberry shortcake she'd bought from the shops, and the heart shaped speaker she'd stolen from their bathroom was now perched on the kitchen island. As soon as the lights were lowered, (Y/N) hoped their home would feel just as nice as the restaurants Harry loved taking her to. 
After the timer went off, she pulled the dish from the warm oven, basil and oregano scenting through the space. Checking the time, she made haste as she put the finishing touches on the space. Once squares of lasagna were cut out, she attempted to place extra basil leaves atop the bake in hopes of emulating a heart—an idea she'd seen on Pinterest. She connected a soft playlist to filter from the small speaker. Flames danced in the candle votives, warming the space just as he lowered the lights. 
Just as she popped the plates on the placemats, she heard the distinct crackling of the garage door opened. A smile spread across her features.
Harry was home. 
She couldn't contain how antsy she was as she stood next to the made up table, rocking in her spot with her dress twirling around her. Gosh, she hoped he liked what she did. 
Evie chirped at the door she'd learned Harry would come through when he came home, circling and looking up in wait of her dad. (Y/N) sympathized with her energy. 
Harry's heavy footsteps sounded just before the door swung open, his gentle voice crooning as soon as he saw his Evie running out to greet him. 
"Hey, you," he smiled, reaching down to pet her head, "How was your day, hm? Where's mummy?" 
At that same moment, he peered up, noticing the low lights in the house and the warm scent drifting through. She had her hands knotted behind her, unable to stop them from fidgeting by the time his gaze slid over her. 
"Hi, love," he said after a moment, though his eyes never strayed from the neckline of her dress, "What's got you all dressed up? Did I forget something?" 
She shook her head. "It's date night," she told him, "First one in the new house." 
"Pretty special occasion, then. When did y'get that dress?" His eyes finally shifted down the rest of the length to where frilly socks circled her ankles before landing on her face once more. A smile bloomed on his cheeks. 
"I've had it for a while, just never wore it," she shared, swallowing around the nerves that all of his attention garnered, "I made dinner." 
It seemed then that he realized there was more than just her and her dress in the room. She watched as he took in the set up and the plates of dinner, the smell in the house and the candles lighting the room. 
"You did," he said, finally stepping away from the threshold and towards her, "Everything looks wonderful—especially you." 
"Thank you," she smiled, falling into his arms as soon as he opened them. Settling her chin on his chest, she dazed up at him with moony eyes. "How was work?" 
While it was far from the first time she'd asked him that exact question, it definitely had a different ring to it knowing that he'd just come home—to their home—from his first day of work since moving in. 
"Good," he murmured, his eyes seemingly twinkling in the candle light with his eyeliner smudged under his eyes, "Long. Jus' wanted to be home with you and Evie." 
Hearing that never got old to (Y/N). "I missed you, too," she declared, squeezing her arms around his middle, "Did you still have fun?"
"A little," he teased, "Y'were busy today though, hm?" 
"A little," she parroted, growing sheepish under his gaze, "This is our first real dinner that isn't takeout here. I wanted it to be special." 
Tearing his eyes from hers, he looked at the spread on the dining table once more. "Definitely did jus' that, angel. I feel underdressed," he laughed, his hands laced behind her back trailing down the flared skirt of her dress. 
"I think you look nice," she countered, drawing her own eyes down to the ink on his neck, the roses blooming as he swallowed. 
"I look like I jus' came home from work," he said, laughing off her compliment. 
"But, you came home to me," she murmured, unsure of what her point was, but knowing that there was no way he was ever going to look bad when he was coming back to their home. 
His expression softened then, leaving only a single dimple dented in his cheek and a lopsided smile on his raspberry lips. "I did, didn't I?" 
(Y/N) nodded up at him before Harry ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to her soft lips. She could feel her lip gloss sliding between their mouths, surely leaving a stain on his own though he didn't care with the way he slotted their lips together. It was a kiss full of affection, where his hands on the small of her back had her pressed to him. Tipping his head just so, he deepened the kiss with a taste of her lips on his tongue. 
He pulled away first, only after smattering a string of pecks across her pout. He was rewarded with a plume of laughter fanning from her mouth. 
"'M gonna get changed, but I'll be right back, 'kay?" he told her, untangling his arms from around her waist. 
"Okay," she sighed dreamily, reluctant to let go of him though she was able to, instead, watch him walk to their shared bedroom instead. 
He only turned around once to catch her admiring him.
—————
(Y/N) wanted to huff when Harry blocked her from reaching into the water-filled sink for the third time. She settled for planting her hands on her hips, and pouting at the back of his head. 
"I can help, H. It's fine," she attempted to reason with him again. 
As if he hadn't heard her at all, he continued with his hands in the soapy water, cleaning off the dishes they'd used for dinner. He'd already packed away the leftovers of the lasagna and stowed away the remaining half-bottle of wine she'd uncorked for the night; she wanted to help before the opportunity was gone. 
Her pout only puffed out further, feeling a tiny bit like an insolent child when she debated if stamping her foot would catch his attention. 
"Harry," she scolded. 
"(Y/N)," he countered, parroting her scolding tone right back, "I've got it, my love. Jus' relax now." 
"But we're supposed to be a team," she complained, "I'm not supposed to let you do this by yourself." 
At that, Harry finally chanced a look over his shoulder at her. His eyes were tender, bright green against the refreshed liner he had applied when he changed before dinner. The lines of his face were soft as he gazed at her, his lips slightly curling while the line of his jaw held a rounded edge.
"We are a team, baby," he emphasized, wiping his hands down before turning to face her, "You made dinner, so 'm doing dishes. That sounds like teamwork to me, don't you think?" 
(Y/N) opened her mouth before swiftly closing it, unsure of what to say to that. At the end of it all, deep in her chest where she didn't enjoy digging, was that fear that if she didn't pull her weight, show her worth as more than just a little playmate for Evie or someone to crowd the bathroom with all of her products. 
But that wasn't exactly a romantic date night conversation, was it?
He waited patiently as she attempted to find her words, leaning back against the counter with an adoring gaze. When nothing coherent came from her lips, only a sputtering of a half-baked excuse, he reached towards her with gentle hands. 
Grasping her waist over the structure of her dress, he pulled her towards him until she was flush to his chest. Only when she wrapped her own arms around his middle, fingers looping around his back, did he set a careful hand on her cheek. 
Brushing stray hairs from her face, he tilted his head as a small smile touched his lips. "You know 'm still going to take care of you, right? Jus' because we live together now, doesn't change that. Y'don't have to prove anything—not to me."
With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) swore she could have cried hearing his words. She melted into his hold instead, enveloping him in a warming hug. 
He knew her better than anyone before, that much she knew. It was enough to have her heart breaking only to grow bigger so she could fit more of him inside. 
"Love you," she murmured, the words muffled against his chest as she squished herself against him. 
"Love you more, angel," he reciprocated, dotting a kiss to the top of her head. Shifting his hands on her, he moved until his palms landed on her hips. "So you're going to sit right here, and let daddy take care of you." 
It was the amusement swimming in his eyes and the lilting in her voice that made it clear he was only teasing, prodding and poking at her to get her in a lighter mood, but (Y/N) only felt her skin heat at the use of that title. It was quite the adjustment to know that he could speak so boldly outside of the bedroom now that there weren't any kind of roommates that could walk in at the last moment. 
In a daze, she stepped back as he herded her to sit up on the counter beside the sink. She was left with her legs dangling with her skirt fanned across her thighs, hands knotted in her lap, and her eyes on his back. The music she had connected to the small speaker continued to thrum through the room, soft and low, creating a soundtrack for the moment. 
It was silly, to feel so entranced as she watched him do something as mundane as rinsing dishes, but that was definitely what she was feeling. 
He hadn't even changed into anything special before dinner, only a black button down with embroidered white flowers and a pair of fitted black trousers. His hair was left down after adjusting some of the curls he'd mussed during work, the length falling longer than she'd seen it before. 
Maybe it was the fact that she could still hear his teasing comment ringing in her ears, or how much she truly had missed him throughout the day, but she couldn't take her eyes off him. She watched as his shoulders tensed and flexed through the fabric, the line of his muscles down the length of his arm. A part of her wanted to reach out, drag her hand down his biceps and feel the way they bunched and released as he worked. 
She felt herself growing impatient the longer he worked through the soapy water, despite knowing there wasn't much of a mess for him to clean up given the limited dishes. Without thinking, she swung her socked foot out and tapped against his leg, dragging over the back of his calf. 
A huff of laughter left Harry's lips though he continued working with only a small glance at her. "Wasn't enough to jus' watch me? Gotta touch me, too?" 
She felt flustered to be called out like that, as if she hadn't wanted his attention in the first place. She only managed a small shrug of her shoulders. 
Shaking his head, Harry put the last rinsed plate into the dishwasher and drained the sink. He took his time drying off his hands before reaching for her crossed legs. Setting his hands on her thighs, she pliantly let him spread them apart before he came to stand between her legs, his hands settling on the full of her thighs with a lingering touch. 
"What are y'thinking about, love? Got all my attention now, jus' like y'wanted, right?" 
His gaze on her features was warm enough that (Y/N) swore she could feel a warmth in its wake, heavy and unrelenting. She blinked up at him, a flutter of her lashes as he grew breathless. "I don't know—just... You." 
"Me?" he smiled, dipping his head down until he was level with her, "You've got a crush on me or something?" 
His teasing was enough to have a laugh drawn from her lungs, dropping her hands to land on his own as they roamed over her thighs, dipping underneath the hem of her dress. "Stop," she giggled.
"Ooh," he sung, "You like me, don't you? C'mon, love, can't hide it from me. So obvious, isn't it?" 
"Stop it," she laughed, letting go of his hands and instead opting to loop her arms around his neck in a controlling hug, "I don't have a crush on you!" 
"You don't?" Harry whined, a pout audible in his voice, "But, why'd y'move in with me then if y'don't even have a crush on me?" 
Hooking her ankle around the back of his leg. She murmured into his neck, "Because I love you." 
His arms created a cradle around her back, keeping her close as he quieted in her hug. "I love you too," he hummed, "So much. Thank you for doing all of this for us, love—everything was perfect." 
Her grin stretched wider over her cheeks, "I'm happy you liked it all. First date at our new house." 
"Still gotta take care of a lot of firsts here, don't we?" His hands on her body shifted then, caressing the structure of her dress, the pads of his fingers tracing the detailing of the lace. 
With the way his voice dropped—and the fact he'd said what he said only a handful of minutes ago—, (Y/N) had somewhat of an idea of what kind of firsts he was referring to. 
The past week had been hectic to say the least. Nothing more than cuddling and a few stray kisses were shared in their new bed, their bodies not having energy for anything more after their long days of making their house a new home.
Tightening the loop of her arms around his neck, she clung to him as she nodded into his neck. "Yeah."
"Yeah?" he parroted, a smile in his voice. Turning his head, he pressed his lips into a string of kisses from her temple down to her cheek, lingering kisses that dragged over her skin. She could feel her blood warming in his wake, her lashes fluttering as her eyes came to a close. 
"Yeah, daddy."
Harry pulled in a long breath at the sound of his title wrapped in her voice, the tip of his nose dragging across her cheek. Finally, he planted his lips on hers, slotting between her own. 
With her arms around his neck, (Y/N) practically melted into him with the broad of his body keeping her upright. She half-expected him to smile into the kiss, a small tease over seeing how ready she was for something as small as a kiss, but he did nothing more than tilt his head and strengthen his grip on her form. 
It wasn't until she felt the tip of his tongue sweep across her lower lip that she gathered they hadn't even so much as kissed like this since moving. She hadn't realized the week had been so hectic as to leave no time for anything more than a few kisses and their cuddling before passing out as soon as the sun fell. 
She hadn't realized how much she missed him until that second. 
Reciprocating his kiss, lips parting and inviting him in, (Y/N) hitched a thigh over his hip. She clung to him with her fingers working into the baby soft curls on the back of his neck in a soft tug. He let out a sigh into her mouth, his hands pulsing on her waist. With her position on the counter, every flex of his hands on her body, she was drawn closer and closer to the edge, leaving her to wrap her limbs instead. 
His tongue ran over her own, the taste of the strawberry shortcake dessert lingering. She could feel the tip of his nose nudging into her own, tracing the bridge with every tip of their heads. The soft sound of their lips parting and coming together filled the kitchen, sounding over the music she still had playing from the small speaker. 
Drawing away from her kiss, he started down her jaw to the column of her throat. (Y/N) tilted her head back, allowing him more access to her heated skin as he kissed down to the neckline of her dress. Her hands in his hair tightened. 
"Where are you going?" she murmured.
"Gonna take care of you, remember?" he said into her neck, the words melting into her skin, "Jus' like I promised."
With that, he fell to his knees before her, settling between her own spread legs. Her hands shifted, now combing the strands out of his face as she looked down at him. His palms glided over her dress until he found the hem, pushing it up and over her thighs to wrinkle at her waist. 
"That okay, baby?" he asked, suddenly breathless as his eyes met the small part of underwear she had covering her core. 
"Uh-huh," she nodded her head, nails catching on his scalp. 
He shot her a soft smile, enough to dot dimples into his cheeks before her attention was diverted to the feel of his hands sitting on her bare thighs. Hooking his fingers into the waist of her underwear, all she needed was to lift her hips just enough before he was pulling the fabric down her legs. 
The way he looked at her then, after pulling the garment off and fitting his hands between her thighs to widen the gap, brought her back to the first night in his office at the tattoo parlor. He gazed at her like he'd never seen her before, like this was the first time all over again. He didn't have to say anything to let her know that he saw her as something special. 
Planting his lips across the inside of her thigh, the tip of his nose and the fan of his breath brought goosebumps to layer over her skin. He dragged his mouth across the sensitive skin, using his grip on her thighs to keep her steady as he tugged her towards the very edge of the counter—and his face. 
It wasn't until she could feel his breath skimming over closer to her pussy that her muscles bunched, her own lungs stuttering. He peeked up at her through the fan of his lashes, matching her eyes for a lingering moment, leaving her with no other option than to watch as he pressed his lips to the crease between her thighs and her core, her body jumping at the tickling shock that touched her spine. With her hands holding back his hair, her fingers flexed between the strands.
She could feel his smile against her skin as he closed that remaining distance, pushing his lips against her clit. She hadn't realized how wet she'd grown until she pulsed around nothing, her breath stalling. His nose mushed against her mound, his lips puckered around her clit in a sucking kiss. It was enough to have her toes curling, eyes fluttering. 
He lingered on her clit, peeking up at her through the fan of his lashes, for a moment before dipping lower. (Y/N)'s throat ran dry as she watched his tongue sink between her folds, a small whine falling from her lips. A light flickered through his eyes then when he peered up at her, though he didn't stop to tease her or pull away to let out a huff of laughter. Instead, he kept her gaze as he skated the tip of his tongue down the length of her slit, lingering over her shuddering opening. 
Her reaction—a choked moan, flexing hands, and shiver down her spine—was finally enough to have him smiling against her wetness. He pulled away just enough, his breath fanning across her core.
"Feel good, angel?" he asked, punctuating his words with a kiss to her clit. 
With her mouth dropping open, (Y/N) wanted to answer, knew she had the words to give him, but nothing left her lips. She was left with a frantic nod of her head, wiggling until she was precariously dangling from the edge of the counter with her pussy right in Harry's face. His brows bounced over his eyes, a smug smile touching at the corners of his lips. 
Expecting another teasing quip, (Y/N) readied herself to attempt to actually answer him, but her mind was drawn completely blank when he only dove back into her folds. His nose was pressed against her swollen clit, her wetness sliding around his chin. She could feel the motions of his tongue through her slit, his lips kissing her in-between each lick. Eventually, Harry couldn't manage to keep his eyes open, his lids falling closed as he buried his tongue among her taste, the tip peeking against her opening.
It wasn't until he wagged his head, spreading her folds around him with his hands keeping her shaking thighs from closing around him, that (Y/N) found her voice. 
"H—Daddy, I—" she choked out, the call crackling and stilted through her lungs. 
The mentioning of his title only spurred him on it seemed. He attempted to mutter something against her core, something lingering and drawled, though (Y/N) couldn't even begin to decipher his words as they were pressed into her pussy. The vibrations of his voice was enough to rattle through her, his nose still mushed into her puffy clit. 
She just needed that much more, she thought, her toes curling at his back. With her hands in his hair, she attempted to get that more she needed, pulling him closer to her core in hopes of feeling him inside. 
Harry's grip on her thighs tightened then, his eyes peeling open to match her cloudy gaze. Despite her hand in his hair, he drew away with the pillows of his lips barely dragging across her sensitive skin. 
"Close already?" he asked, breathless. 
"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry," she stuttered, swallowing around her dry throat, "I—"
Before she could finish her thought, Harry smeared one last kiss against her clit before he was parting her thighs and standing to the full of his height between her legs. She craned her neck to look up at him just as he fixed his palms to mold to the curve of her cheeks, bringing her in for a kiss. His lips were already swollen by the time he sealed them to hers, a taste lingering on his tongue. (Y/N) acted as his crash pad through the frantic shift, taking all of the affection he was pouring into her. She didn't have to see him to know there was a furrow dipping his brows, his eyes cinched closed as he kissed her with the same intensity he had shared between her legs. With the way he was flushed against her, keeping her upright on the countertop, it didn't take much to feel the bulge straining behind his pants. 
Her breath caught. That wasn't something she'd never completely get used to—knowing he loved touching her enough to get his own satisfaction. 
Harry only kissed her harder, this nose nudging against her own. 
When his hands disappeared from her cheeks, sliding down the length of her body, she expected him to wrap underneath her thighs and hoist her up into his arms. Instead, he only lingered on the bare plush of her hips, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin.
"Baby," he breathed against her mouth, drawing just far enough away for the syllables to be audible. "I need to fuck you." 
If her heart hadn't already been hammering into her ribcage, she's sure it would have started then, the vulgar words ringing in her ears. 
Puckering her lips enough to close the space between the two of them, sharing a small kiss, she nodded her head. "Okay." 
"Right here." 
That had (Y/N) blinking her eyes open, pulling far enough away to peek at his still closed gaze. Instinctively, she wanted to protest, to tell him to take her to the bedroom where there was privacy and a locked door. But those were instincts that came before they had their own space, before they were void of roommates. There was no need to hide if Harry was the only one around to catch her in that pleasure. 
When her pause lingered, Harry finally cracked his eyes open, the pupils dilated. She could see the darting of his gaze as he took in the details of her eyes, the fan of her lashes, the shape of her nose. 
"Need me to stop?" he asked, his breathing coming out in heavy swatches. 
"No, no," she answered in a rush, looping her arms around his neck, "Just... We don't have roommates." 
A small smile curved his lips. "We don't." 
"This is our house." 
"It is." 
"We can do this right here." 
His grin grew. "We can do this right here." 
(Y/N) couldn't help the beaming smile that took over her features. Taking advantage of her arms around his neck, she pulled him in for another kiss. It was messy, a bit off center with their mouths smeared across one another, though that was only because she couldn't completely erase her smile. 
"Y'want to?" he murmured into her mouth, his hands on her hips sliding until he was palming the full of her thighs.
"Please," she answered, the word falling from her lips without a second thought. She could only imagine the dimple that bloomed into his cheek then. 
Shifting between her thighs, he tipped his head to trail his lips onto her cheek. "Get me out, baby." 
Her hesitation lasted only a moment before she processed his instruction, her hands sliding from where she had them around his neck. She had the privilege of tracing down his body, feeling the blocks of muscle on his abdomen and the soft pudge on his hips. Reaching the waist of his pants, her hands grew just a bit frantic, fumbling as she moved. 
"'S alright, lovebug," he murmured to her, dotting his lips onto the height of her cheekbone, "Jus' me." 
That was the problem, she wanted to tell him. She wanted him now, and she couldn't make it happen fast enough. 
Unfastening the waist of his trousers, she pushed them down until they hit just the middle of his thighs. She brushed his skin, feeling the coarse hair on his thighs brushing her hands. Peeking between them, she could see the way his cock stood hard between his thighs, the black fabric of his briefs straining around him. 
Hooking her fingers into the band of his underwear, she carefully pulled the garment down, tugging until they were in line with his trousers. His cock bobbed against his stomach, hitting the material of his shirt, with a glistening stain left in its wake. 
Wrapping a leg around his hip, (Y/N) didn't even realize she was trying to pull him closer until she felt herself teeter on the edge of the counter. Harry caught her with a huff of laughter leaving his lips. 
"Careful, love," he muttered, hooking an arm around her waist while the other stayed right on the full of her thigh.
"Sorry," she breathed, planting her hands on his chest though she couldn't keep her gaze off of his length, "I'm just..." 
"Ready for me?" he said, posing a question as much as he was finishing her sentence. 
"Yeah," she said, nodding her head with her fingers curling into the material of his shirt, "Please, daddy." 
She swore she could see his cock jump at her words. 
"Okay, baby," he told her, his voice stilted some, "Hold me, 'kay?" 
Unfurling her fingers from his shirt, she curled her arms around his neck and hugged herself to his chest. His cock fit snug between them, the base pressed into her clit enough to draw a shaky breath from her lungs. Harry's own breath became strained, his chest stuttering.
He held her steady with his arm around her waist while his other slid from her thigh. She could feel the faint touches of his fingertips as he felt around, wrapping his fingers around his cock before lining up with her core. The first touch of his tip against her pulsing hole, her breath caught, her spine stiffening.
Giving her a moment to breathe, he ran the head through her fold. With every bump to her clit and lingering nudge against her opening, she was reminded just how close she'd been before when he had been on his knees between her thighs. She curled her leg around his own that much more, drawing him nearer. 
"Good?" he crooned, the word coming out in a breath.
She didn't even think before, "Yes, daddy," was spilling from her lips. 
That was all Harry needed to hear before the nudges turned into a full thrust of his hips, pressing his cock into her core. A whimpering moan built in her chest as he sheathed himself inside her, her walls parting for him with shuddering pulses. Harry had his own lingering moan that sounded in her ear, elongated and low as he finally got to feel her around him for the first time since moving in. 
"Been too long," he panted, smearing his lips against the hinge of her jaw as she hugged him tighter. 
"It-It's been a week," she told him, stuttering over her tongue as he reared his hips back. Feeling the ridge of his head glide against her and catching on her entrance was enough to catapult her heart to her throat. 
"Too long," he affirmed, thrusting forward, his hand landing on her hip to keep her steady as she was pushed back at the force. "Too long for daddy not to have you, baby. Not gonna happen again, okay? Not since I've got you all t'myself now." 
His words melted into her skin as he kissed down her jaw, his hips curating a pace that had her body pressing back into his anchoring arm. She swore she could feel his head reaching places she had forgotten existed until he was inside her. His base smushed into her clit every time he bottomed out, giving her a jolting touch before he disappeared again in favor of sinking through her walls. She was sure he could feel that jolt just as much with the way she tightened into a snug hold around his length. 
"Not gonna happen again, daddy," she repeated, feeling a bit delirious as she threw her head back, just barely missing the edge of the cabinets as she presented more of her neck for him to kiss. "All to myself now." 
She could feel the huff of his laughter fanning across her heated skin as his lips met the neckline of her dress. "You've got me all to yourself, baby."
Her thighs bunched around his hips, the muscles tightened when he removed his steadying hand on her thigh. She rocked against the counter with every thrust of his hips, the force knocking a small noise loose from her chest each time. 
Curling his fingers around the corseted top of her dress, Harry pulled it down until her bare chest was put on display for the warm air between them to reach. Moving her hands up until she had her fingers dancing through the long curls of his hair, she combed her fingers through the strands as he kissed down her chest with his own hand landing on the thick of her thigh. 
His lips planted a trail over her skin, outlining the swells of her breasts and the line of her cleavage before catching her nipple. The sucking kiss had the pit of her stomach twisting and tying into a tight spiral, knocking her lungs against her ribs in favor of making room for the warmth filling her abdomen. It wasn't a touch she was usually accustomed to, but every now and then, Harry toyed with her body just right to have the feel of his mouth on her chest rivaling that of his touch on her clit. 
"Daddy," she squeaked, her fingers curled tight in his hair, "I think—I—" 
"I know, love," he murmured against her chest, the tip of his nose skimming the flesh, "I can feel it. Y'cum whenever you're ready, yeah? Let daddy have it—I've missed it." 
Even if it was a bit silly—something she may feel embarrassed over with a clearer mind—(Y/N) swore she could feel his voice against her heart, the rumble of his words sinking through her muscle and bone and straight to the pumping chambers. 
"I missed you, too," she stuttered out, her tongue thick in her mouth, "Missed you fu—"
A pinch settled between her brows when she realized what she had been about to say. 
"Missed me what, baby? What were y'gonna say?" Harry prodded, dragging his mouth up from her chest to land on the point of her chin in a searing kiss. 
"Um—I don't know," she breathed, attempting to catch him in a kiss before he pulled just too far out of reach.
Between them, the sound of her folds parting for him with her slick making a mess of their legs sounded within the space, suddenly louder than any soft song that could be playing from her heart shaped speaker. Harry chanced a look down, catching the way his length glistened in the low remaining light with his mouth dropping into a small gape as his breath came out in pants. His arm around her back tightened, angling the small of her back just right to allow him deeper inside. 
"Were y'gonna say y'missed me fucking you?" he asked, breathless as he couldn't tear his eyes from where they were joined. 
Combing her fingers through his hair, she caught the long strands falling in his face. She swallowed around her dry throat. "May-Maybe," she peeped, stuttering through the word as he surged his hips forward in a particularly deep stroke. 
A deep groan rumbled through his chest, his arm around her and his hand on her thigh tightening as he fell into her. His face was buried in her neck, his lips brushing the column of her throat. 
"Will y'say it for me, angel? Please," he murmured, his voice pitching with the plea. 
Had there been anything going on in her head, (Y/N) might have protested, just as she always playfully did when he poked about this same subject. But her head was too full and too empty at the same time. Her only feasible option was to give him what he wanted—especially when he was taking care of her the way he was. 
"I-I missed you fucking me, daddy." 
The heavy groan he let out dripped over her shoulder, warm and rumbling. His own curses filtered through after, his hips still knocking against her own with every stroke as he bottomed out inside her. 
"Never gonna let it happen again, right, love?" he panted, sounding a bit delirious as he began to babble into her neck. 
His bubbling words became the soundtrack as he felt his hand slip from her thigh to head between their bodies. He pressed his palm into her mound with his fingers stretching across the small of her tummy, leaving his thumb to dig right against the pad of her clit. 
"Can y'say it again? Please?" he asked, bringing her back to the moment with decipherable words. 
Her eyes fell closed, her too stimulated from everything to worry about the world beyond the cocoon of their bodies. Every muscle seemed to be bunched that much tighter, pressure leaking through until there would be nowhere else for it to go, but out. 
"I-I'm so close," she whimpered, clinging to him as he mouthed at her throat, his cock twitching inside her, "Keep fucking me, H." 
A moment later did (Y/N) feel the way he shuddered against her, his hips lingering once he bottomed out, only to roll against her. His mouth was in a gape at her neck though no noise came out, leaving him slack-jawed as the first paint of his cum roped out. Though he attempted to keep his thumb on her clit moving, he was far too heavy headed as he rolled his hips into hers, soaking in his own orgasm. Wetness flooded her walls, her insides shuddering as she felt each motion of his cock inside her, hyper aware of every ridge and minute rock of his hips.
"Fuck," he muttered, her first clue that he was floating back down to earth, "I love you—shit, 'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, why are you sorry?" she breathed, combing her fingers through his hair. She couldn't help but to wriggle in his hold, her own release teetering after feeling him cum inside her. 
"I—You're supposed to be first," he said, breathing heavily into her neck once the last dredges of his pleasure seeped out of his system. 
"I'm fine, it's fine," she smiled, pulling him from her neck only to press her lips to his, "It's okay, you d—" 
Her words were choked off when he started circling her clit with new vigor, rearing his hips back just enough before stroking into her once more. Though he was slowly softening and she could tell the feel of her walls sucking around him was too much, he didn't do anything other than tuck his bottom lip between her two and work her back to the edge she had been balancing on. 
It didn't take long for her muscles to bunch under her skin, her spine to stiffen, and stomach to mold into a tight ball. Her toes curled from where she had her legs wrapped around him, her fingers doing the same in his hair. 
"'M here, baby," he murmured, smearing his lips against hers in a kiss, "Cum for me." 
With a flutter of her lashes as her eyes fell closed and a bubbling call of his name falling from her tongue, (Y/N) felt every bunch of pressure in her body release. Her walls shuddered just as her lungs did, her breath stilted. A heat surged through her system that felt cold by the time it touched her fingertips and toes. Her clit pulsed under his thumb, her insides tightening around his softening cock and the mess he'd left inside her. 
Harry worked her through it as best he could, letting her take her time in the clouds before every touch became too much for her. Though she kept her arms wound around his neck, she loosened her legs from around his waist, leaving him free to pull out with a slick sound filtering through the kitchen.
(Y/N)'s breathing came in pants as she closed her thighs around his hips, knocking his hand just off center enough to show him she'd had enough for the time being. 
"Harry," she breathed, an aftershock reaching up her spine.
"(Y/N)," he answered just before giving her a small peck, a smile on his lips. 
Hugging herself to him, jumping when her sensitive clit touched his soft cock, she tucked her head under his chin. 
"We just had sex in our kitchen," she murmured into the dip of his collarbones. 
A laugh fell from his lips, loud and boisterous. Arranging his arms around her to reciprocate her hold with his palms pressed into the planes of her back, he squeezed her that much tighter to his chest. "We did, didn't we?" 
"Is that gross?" she peeped, suddenly hyper aware of the cold countertop under her legs. There wasn't much time left before she was sure there would be a bigger mess to clean up given just how slick her core felt. 
He shrugged around her, giving her a kiss to the top of her head. "Did y'like it?"
She answered him in a shy nod as if she hadn't been begging him to fuck her just a handful of minutes before. 
"Then, no, 's not gross." 
Smiling into his throat, she melted into him. Even with the boning of her dress poking into her skin, the way her slick was beginning to cool on the inside of her thighs, she could see herself sticking to his moment for as long as she was allowed. 
"I had so much fun with you tonight, baby," Harry muttered, his voice as soft as the touch of his lips to her hair, "Thank you." 
"I had fun, too," she told him, peeling away just enough to look up at him with moony eyes, "Thank you for wanting to live with me." 
Dimples appeared in his cheeks, his smile tender to match the way he looked at her. "Didn't have much of a choice, did I? 'S not normal to send half of m'heart to another house every night, is it?" 
His corny, sticky-sweet words only served to make her heart bloat and reach for his own as if it could leap out of her chest if it tried hard enough. A bubbly laugh fell from her lips, (Y/N) hugging him that much tighter with her cheek laying against his chest. 
"But, seriously," Harry amended, his voice void of amusement as he murmured against her hair, "Thank you for choosing me—I feel lucky everyday that I get to have a life with you like this." 
Every bit of laughter in her chest waned out in favor of fluffy affection tickling the chambers of her heart. She nuzzled closer to him, basking in his warmth and the scent of his skin. She wondered how long it would be until she had those same notes imprinted on her, how long it would take for Harry to linger with notes of cherry on his clothing.
"I love you," she told him, sincerity dripping from each syllable. 
"I love you more," he cemented, dropping a lingering kiss to the top of her head.
Before she had a chance to playfully argue back, Harry shifted his hold on her, adjusting his hands until they slid underneath her bottom. He lifted her from the countertop, (Y/N) clinging to him with a gasp escaping her throat. 
"What are you doing?" she rushed out, wrapping her limbs around him as tight as she could manage.
A bubble of laughter plumed from him. "We've got to clean up and then look at the damage we left here. Or did y'plan on sleeping in your princess dress?" 
The thought of spending the night in the boned corset without panties or even socks on had a frown embedded on her lips. "No. Clean first." 
"That's what I thought," he smiled, carrying her off with a kiss planted on her temple. 
On their way to the bedroom, (Y/N) laid her cheek against his shoulder, the walls of their home passing them by. Her gaze lingered on the photos of them littering the walls, the memories she'd made with him over the short time she'd had her Harry in her life. 
She wondered how many picture frames the walls could hold. They had a whole lifetime now to share many more special moments, and she didn't want to miss a moment.
—————
ahhhh! im so happy I finally got this part of their story out!! thank you so much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any fun ideas or anything at all :)
632 notes · View notes
niki-phoria · 3 days
Text
EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, I LIKE IT, I LOVE IT
Tumblr media
pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 505
notes: sorry for the late post, i've been too busy reading zb1 fanfics to write anything lmao, possibly ooc megumi, not proofread, title from soulja boy - kiss me thru the phone
Tumblr media
it wasn’t often that FUSHIGURO MEGUMI allowed himself to be vulnerable. even with the people he trusted the most, it always felt as if there was a wall separating him from others - a barrier preventing him from fully allowing himself to feel any love or comfort in fear of it being ripped away again. 
it was hard - even if he pretended like it wasn’t. 
you had come to see many different sides of megumi over your time at jujutsu high. you had watched his glares become softer and long silences shorten until he would freely share his ideas with you. somehow, when it came to you, all of his defenses had failed, one after another. he found himself looking out for you - watching over your training sessions; following after you during missions; waiting at your bedside when you got hurt. 
something about megumi was different. something about you was different. 
falling for you was fast. it happened before megumi had realized what was happening. brief glances had become nervous touches, and nervous touches had become long conversations that lasted far into the early hours of the morning until megumi found himself lying beside you in your bed, falling into a deep sleep almost as quickly as you did. 
the morning had come quickly and quietly. sunlight seeps into your dorm room through your open blinds, casting your sleeping figure in golden light. megumi watches intently as your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm; stray strands of hair frame your relaxed features. 
despite himself, megumi smiles softly at the sight. he reaches up before gingerly resting his hand against your cheek, stroking his thumb against your skin. “y/n,” megumi whispers. you stir in response; your face twitches as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. the feeling causes heat to spread across his face and goosebumps to rise along his skin. “come on. we have a mission.”
you lazily wrap your arms around his waist, tugging your body closer until your head rests against his chest. megumi does his best to ignore the butterflies swarming throughout his stomach to little avail. “not yet,” you rasp out, nuzzling yourself even closer to him. 
he purses his lips. your body is warm beneath the covers as you nuzzle yourself even closer to him. as much as he hates to admit it, megumi would much rather lay in bed with you then watch you risk your life to kill a curse yet again. 
“gojo-sensei will be upset if we’re late,” he sighs. cool hands slip underneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing shapes into your bare skin. you startle momentarily at the feeling, but don’t move much otherwise. “y/n…”
you simply frown in response, tightening your grip around his waist. “five more minutes,” you murmur. megumi freezes when you blink up at him with flushed cheeks and tired eyes. “please?”
it wasn’t often that megumi allowed himself to be vulnerable. but with a request like that, how could he ever say no?
Tumblr media
taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho
if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33
336 notes · View notes
yesimwriting · 1 day
Note
we need more felix and lovie content i miss themmm
i miss them too,, i have so many drafts and half finished fics with them but i've had so little energy/time to actually finish any of them bc of finals
but i'm pretty caught up with school rn (by tuesday i'll be on summer break!!) so here's a bit of an i'm-sorry-for-being-absent drabble :)
The nail of your thumb drags against the edge of the page, finally getting the glue to fully adhere to the page.
You press your back against the wood surface of your desk chair to admire your handiwork. The background of your latest scrapbook page has come together just the way you wanted it to. You pick up the book carefully before turning your body.
"Lex," you beam.
Felix doesn't sit up fully, but he does lift his head. The arm holding up his copy of the latest Harry Potter relaxing. "Oh," he mumbles it in that way that reminds you of one of the things you like best about him. He has this talent for giving attention. Where other people would just be polite without a second thought, Felix takes the time to really look before commending.
He pushes himself up in a way that awkwardly squishes your pillow. "That's good." Felix straightens, legs crossing beneath him. "That's really good, Lovie." His thumb tucks itself between the pages of his book, a make shift bookmark. "The edges, the paper..."
"Thank you." Another thing you love about Felix is the fact that you can always tell he means his praise. You turn forward, setting your scrapbook back onto your desk. "You should make one."
The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a version of a smile that's so soft you almost miss it. "Yeah?" You nod. Felix's smile shifts into something more assured. "Maybe tomorrow night."
You try to picture Felix spending a Saturday night in either your room or his, cutting up scraps of paper and gluing them down instead of at a bar or some party. The thought makes your feel warm in that way that's so exclusively Felix. It also feels blurry, intangible in its unlikeliness.
As happy as it'd make you, tonight was already surprising enough. It's not like Felix goes out every night, and this isn't the first time the two of you have stayed in on a Friday, but nights like these are rare. You can't picture two of these in a row.
"Tomorrow?" You pull your legs out from under your desk, entire body angling itself to the side so that it's easier to look at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday."
He lets out a partial laugh. "And you're dying for a rager?"
"No," you mumble, dragging out the vowel sound in an attempt to sound more sarcastic. "But you like going out." You lean forward, resting your chin against the chair's back. "And it's not like I hate going out, especially with you..." You trail off, eyes shifting away from Felix and towards the bed post closest to you. "And I don't want to be the reason you don't do things you like."
For a beat, the only sound is the low, rhythmic tapping of Felix's pointer finger against the spine of his book. "I like a lot of things."
You lift your head. "I know."
"I like doing things with you."
The warmth comes back with a vengeance. You tap your thumb against the side of your seat for the sake of doing something. "Me too."
Felix shifts, extending one leg to make himself more comfortable. "Good." He's so quiet for a second, you almost think that might be the end of the conversation. You're about to go back to picking out the pictures to finish off the page you'd been working on when he starts again, "So you don't need to worry about me resenting you."
Your eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything about you resenting me." Your chin lifts slightly, an attempt at displaying your indignation. "Why are you saying it like that was an option?"
He grins, dropping himself back onto your pillow. "No reason."
You roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He's the one that came over to your room without being asked to. "Sure."
"What?" His tone implies nothing but perfect innocence. He picks up his book, opening it as if he's done nothing wrong. "Y'should come over here before the resentment sets in and I lose all interest."
You let out a loud sigh, but move to stand regardless. "Yeah, that feels like a real possibility."
When you don't move, Felix glances away from his book. "You're not gonna come over here?" He looks up at you, a hint of a pout playing at his expression. "I was kidding."
You cross your arms, fighting against a smile. "I just stood up." That's not enough to convince him to stop looking at you like that. You take a few steps forward with a sigh that's more out of habit than anything else. "You are so dramatic."
You sit on your bed, crossing your legs beneath you. Felix shifts onto his side. His freehand finds your knee. "You cried because of this book."
Eyes narrowing, you lean forward to get a better sense of how far into the book he's gotten. "Wait a few chapters."
Felix snaps his head in your direction, "Lovie. You said you wouldn't--" Your sentence runs into his, "I didn't--I didn't spoil it."
He frowns, watching you skeptically. "That was mean."
"You started it." You're aware that you sound like a little kid, but you can't help it. With a sigh, you give up, laying down. He's taking up most of your bed, but you're far from uncomfortable. "Fine. I'm sorry."
With little warning, Felix leans forward and presses a kiss against your temple. "Want me to read to you?"
You're used to Felix's random displays of affection, but every once in awhile something will take you by so much surprise you feel it more than you should. You blink. "Yeah," you mumble, hoping that your voice comes out even, "Sounds nice."
Felix shifts onto his back, one hand finding your arm and the other holding his book.
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy
55 notes · View notes
charleezard · 3 days
Text
This is mostly a vent so I might delete it later. Also like, this turned kind of dark and depressing so if you're not in the headspace, please skip this post entirely.
I look at my community, at all my Jewish friends, all the people I meet who are just visiting the country on vacation and want a synagogue to visit. I obviously have no idea how many Jewish people I've met. I also have no idea how many Jewish people any of you have met. I have no idea how someone can look at them and see some kind of ultimate evil being. Because every time I come online, that's how I see people talking about Jews. These horrible, evil, manipulating people. And I don't understand how. It is so opposite of everyone I've met. I try really hard to imagine them as evil, try to understand how others can see them this way. I just can't. I'm not saying there are no bad Jewish people, but in general that's just not who they are. They're people like any others. And most importantly they're people I deeply love.
I knew even before I started my conversion process that it wasn't going to be easy. I knew about antisemitism, I had done my research, and I knew that it would be even harder than I could ever expect. That still doesn't soften the pain. Don't think this makes me think about giving up. I know where I belong, I know where my heart and my soul are. I know that I love Judaism and the Jewish People more than I can ever express. And every time I'm just more sure, every time I love them more. It has been and will be an honor to live with them, to celebrate with them, to pray with them, to be a part of them if everything goes well. But more and more I think it would also be an honor to die with them, if it comes to it.
I am a pretty resilient and happy and cheerful person. I try to always be happy and make others happy. But sometimes it's hard. And right now it's hard.
I'm sorry if I'm being too depressing. But all of this suffering is depressing. I just needed somewhere to let this all out.
30 notes · View notes
wylanslcve · 3 days
Text
So if you've been following me on Instagram you would have seen me say recently that I've decided to take a step back from posting/sharing/creating Grishaverse content due to what Leigh Bardugo said (or rather what she didn't say) about the situation in Palestine. For context, during the press tour for The Familiar, an audience member asked Leigh about the justification for non-BIPOC authors profiting off BIPOC stories yet not advocating for real-life BIPOC people (since Leigh has been silent on Palestine since October, despite having expressed solidarity with Palestine in the past).
The video (which you can watch here) has been circulating the internet for a while, and I've already spoken about this on Instagram. I just forgot I had Tumblr for a second there, hence why I'm only addressing this now despite having already spoken about this. However, as someone who has an entire online presence dedicated to Leigh's work, it would be wrong and rather hypocritical of me to not address this.
Disclaimer: This is not a conversation about whether or not white/white-passing authors should be allowed to write BIPOC stories, as many people both in the comments of the original video and online generally have taken it. The issue isn't that Leigh is writing BIPOC stories - it's that she's writing them and choosing not to advocate for real BIPOC people.
The audience member asked a confronting but necessary question, and isn't harassing Leigh as many people online have interpreted it. Holding your favourite people accountable isn't "harassment", especially when that person is a successful author profiting off stories that reflect issues in the real world. Art is inherently political whether or not you want to acknowledge it. This also isn't about specifically asking Leigh this question because she's Jewish - it's because she profits off these stories and yet when these exact same issues are prevalent in the real world, suddenly they're "too political" for her to speak up about despite having expressed solidarity in the past. It has nothing to do with her being Jewish.
However, what's going on in Palestine isn't a political issue. It's basic human rights. It's about humanity, and acting as if posting about this issue is "performative" is ridiculous. I don't know what she's doing behind the scenes, so I'm not going to act as if she isn't doing anything outside of social media because I simply don't know, but when you have an online presence as big as Leigh's you should be using that platform to raise awareness and express solidarity. I understand that it's very easy to come across as "performing activism", especially on social media, but Palestinians have asked us time and time again to use our platforms to help raise awareness and amplify their voices. When you're someone like Leigh who profits off stories of the trials and tribulations of BIPOC people, the very least you can do is talk about the atrocities being committed against BIPOC people in real life.
No one is expecting you to be an expert on what's going on. If you've previously posted misinformation, why not learn from it and actually educate yourself and do better? You're literally an author who profits off stories of colonialism, oppression, dissemination, apartheid, segregation and genocide and suddenly that happening in real life is "too political"? And the amount of privilege you have to not want to get involved in talking about a real-life genocide because you "stopped being political on Instagram" is laughable. Just feeling sad about it isn't going to do anything. It doesn't erase the fact that an entire people are being ethnically cleansed in a genocide you refuse to talk about.
The Grishaverse means so much to me, it's gotten me through some extremely tough periods of my life, but I cannot in good conscience continue to support an author who chooses silence over her own humanity. All she had to say in response to that question was "free Palestine", but she instead said something akin to "I know about what's going on and I know silence and feeling sad about it probably isn't enough, but I'm just not going to do anything about it". Again, I know she's advocated for Palestine in the past, but why not continue doing so? No one is stopping her - she's actively chosen to stop.
As for my accounts? I'm still deciding what to do with them. I won't be deleting them, I'm not going anywhere, but I won't be posting edits or sharing analyses or general posts about the Grishaverse until Leigh decides to do better. This blog will probably turn into a multifandom blog, but who knows at this point. All I know is that I won't be promoting Leigh's work.
28 notes · View notes
cy-cyborg · 9 months
Text
Wheelchair users:
Hey, the main entrance to your business is up some stairs, is there a wheelchair accessible entrance with a ramp or something available?
non-disabled business owners:
No, we don't get any customers in wheelchairs so there's no point
Wheelchair users:
...do...do you think there might be a reason for that?
Non-disabled business owners:
Because disabled people don't need [whatever product or service we provide], obviously.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
overseer-picard · 1 year
Text
*friend describing some new, popular, high concept movie*
Me: "Oh yeah, like in Star Trek. There's an episode-"
Friend: "No, it's a new idea."
Me: "It's not. There's a dozen Trek episodes about this very concept. Also some Battlestar Galactica. Also Dr. Who. Also Stargate. It's a common sci fi trope that's just broken into the mainstream spotlight."
Friend: ....
Me:...
Me: "Anyway, in this episode of Star Trek, Worf is returning- yeah he's the guy with the forehead- why are you crying? This is a cool episode- Worf is returning to the Enterprise after winning a bat'leth tournament..."
1K notes · View notes
rationalisms · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
hi. i would just like to say that this is an attitude i've seen around increasingly often and i find it deeply baffling. like, genuinely could not relate any less to what is being expressed here.
personally, almost all media i'm obsessed with and talk about constantly is because i think it's good and i love talking about the ways in which it's good. yes, criticism can be fun and breed conversation, but so can positive critique. thoughtful, long-lasting engagement with a piece of media doesn't have to be negative. there are in fact ways for media to be good beyond "competent but generally unremarkable"?
and this is ymmv, but complaining about something is more the snack food of media criticism for me. it's fun and great in the moment and it absolutely is something i need to do regularly to feel normal. but i can't live off it. i need to experience genuine appreciation and esteem on a regular basis too, or i shrivel like a raisin. (expressed more seriously: the kind of critique i find actually nourishing in the sense that it allows me to refine what kind of art i would like to make, and what makes me tick as a human being, is the positive kind about media i love very much for being excellent.)
idk guys. is it just that i'm autistic and therefore discussing for the nth time why xyz rules never stops being entertaining? what am i missing here. maybe it's good when media is good?
24 notes · View notes
Text
Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family
#fucking hell#it started with finding out my dad smoked in my car when I picked up my sister#who was equally dreading the day#my mum turns into the world's tensest and judgemental presence. worsened by my aunt#then hell for autistic people (of which there are multiple present)#multiple deaf people means one uninspired conversation that isn't interesting in any way.#combinations of passive aggressiveness and people not saying a thing because they can't participate. voice volumes too damn high#weirdass food situations. Very full table. so many smells.#this goes on for over an hour. wishing for literally anything but being there. soul crushing.#then you still have to sit in that room for 2.5 hours. it just goes on and on.#my autistic deaf dad physically looks like how I feel. my mum and aunt keep piling on top of him to demand his mental presence#i leave the room once (to get my phone to show pictures to my uncle) and am immediately followed upstairs by my mum#who demands I don't leave the room (What's next. following me when I need the toilet?)#me and my sister are so bored we start throwing paper planes and fake fighting.#Which amuses the bored and the deaf#but of course my mum and aunt have opinions and this is not allowed. only soul crushing boredom allowed#they complain to each other over it while aggressively doing dishes#finally it ends because my mum and aunt start insisting my dad should go to bed if he's 'that tired'. *sprinkle on some additional ableism*#still sitting through a conversation about allergies one of my sister's friends has. my mum preaching that people should take that seriously#(meanwhile i had to cook for myself for 9 years because when my allergies were really bad no one bothered to check if i could eat something)#me and my sister go sit upstairs to discover our mum has made things we care about vanish in her room#and made things appear that should not be there#I've washed the interior of my car and hope the smell will go#you think it's over after that. but woke up with the realisation that even more things have disappeared from my sister's room.#i can't remember a time when things left outside of my room didn't disappear#I don't know why we do these family gatherings at all. no one has fun on days like that.#the housing crisis isn't making these things easy. my sister is losing her place to live again as well#she'll go hiking for a month and then work on a campsite over the summer#maybe I'll go house sitting again. idk.#can't make commitments a few months in advance like that because I'll cancel everything the second Sparks announces anything important
7 notes · View notes
hansama · 1 year
Note
Hey Han? Is it allowed for muslims to draw life?
Personally, I believe that it's ok to do so, but I'm not a sheikh. Do your own research and do what you believe in 🤝🏻✨
112 notes · View notes
snallavanta · 1 year
Text
wilhelm: you're the only one here who i feel like i can actually talk to
wilhelm and simon's conversations:
Tumblr media
71 notes · View notes
brynnmclean · 5 months
Text
I can't believe I still have to see posts about how much better ROP would be if Celebrían was the lead vs. Galadriel. As someone who has Tolkien Brainrot, I understand the appeal, I really, really do. As someone who has had to interact with so many people who either do not care about Tolkien Lore but are interested in fantasy television shows or are Jackson film fans first/foremost/only, y'all. Galadriel is a known character and a decent intro to lesser known characters.
Hate to break it to y'all but Celebrían is OBSCURE. I'm pretty confident in saying that if you get outside of Tolkien Fandom online circles, you could tell people that Elrond was married to Galadriel's daughter and the response you would get would be, "oh, I didn't realize that" because it's touched so lightly in the films. Celebrían isn't even MENTIONED by name. Now that I think about it, I'm not even sure if anyone mentions that Galadriel and Arwen are related at all!
My point is the show is meant to appeal to more people than us over here with Tolkien Brainrot!!!!!! I love Celebrían, but Galadriel was an easier sell to the potential of a wider audience as a lead. For a show that needs to go through so much lore very quickly, having Galadriel as the lead because she's 1) female [the overwhelming amount of male characters vs. female characters in the Legendarium is another post], 2) relatively familiar, and 3) has a set characterization to lead toward for an arc vs. her barely-even-mentioned-in-LotR daughter is a no-brainer.
7 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr users will go on this app making jokes about their favs being an autistic little meow meow or fucking whatever and then turn around and laugh at people taking posts literally ?? Like, i'm sorry that your dead serious completely believable comment was read non ironicaly, its as if some people couldn't read tone, that's so weird huh
2 notes · View notes
magentagalaxies · 8 months
Text
aubrey update!!!
doing the monologue in my standup class went well overall! i was very nervous bc 1. i'm not a standup person 2. this is the first time i said most of these jokes out loud and only the second time i've performed aubrey in front of people. my legs were literally shaking at first so i decided instead to sit down in a gay-people-sitting-weird-in-chairs way which felt MUCH more natural so honestly i think i'll keep it? might do some movement but like. how dare you make aubrey stand ze just wants to chat. if i can pin my wig nicely i might even dip upside down i think that would be fun
material got a good response! everyone said it was very tightly written like it's clear i've been writing this for a long time (and i have. i have like 200+ pages of aubrey material, these were some of the highlights). the chia pet thing didn't get as much of a laugh as it usually does when i bring it up in conversation but i think that was a timing thing. the joke that got the most laughs was the one i do about when uncle reg (aubrey's gay-uncle) says something about HRT being dangerous and aubrey's like "you did cocaine when you were my age" and it goes into a whole bit about comparing HRT to coke which is very fun. probably my favorite joke in the set but i was insecure if allys would be uncomfortable with the comparison, but since people liked it i'm like ok cool i can go even further in this direction.
main note that i need to work on was since it was so tightly written i wasn't giving the audience time to get the jokes (which is what led to there not being a ton of laughs despite people liking it). and that was definitely because i was nervous/not memorized (we didn't have to be for this assignment) so i was staring at my phone rather than at the audience. and yeah i really wish i was able to embody aubrey more and make it a more relaxed tone even with the tight writing, but that's a thing i'll work on throughout the class so by the end i'll definitely be more secure in it
tho honestly the most encouraging piece of feedback was like. any time someone does character standup the professor is like "awesome! now could you see yourself slotting that in between either regular standup as yourself or other character pieces?" (bc the final for this class is each person gets a 20 minute set at a local club) and honestly i can, but like. i have so much aubrey stuff and i'm so much more comfortable doing standup as zir than as myself (plus that wig takes time to put on correctly so that might be an awkward switch) and one of my fellow-standup-students went "i could actually see you filling a full 20 minutes with just aubrey. like this monologue felt like i was listening to the audio version of a sitcom" and oh my god that made me feel so good!!! aubrey isn't a one-bit character (not that there's anything wrong with one-bit characters since there are some of those in the other standups' sets), people wanna know what other stuff ze gets into and i can use zir to express all my other standup experiments!!!
so overall. nervewracking but i'm very glad i did it!! excited to eventually do my 20 minute aubrey set and be able to share it with you all
3 notes · View notes
wilde-shit-posting · 1 year
Text
Okay you wild(e) party people who wants an Oscar Wilde/tpodg Discord in which I am the (kinda shit) mod?
14 notes · View notes
unproduciblesmackdown · 11 months
Text
interestingly the only mention i can find of a monastery loquarium is (rendered "loquorium") in "the california padres and their mission" by charles francis saunders and joseph smeaton chase, a book in the public domain:
The Mission relics at Santa Inés are many and interesting. Besides those used in the present-day church services, and the beautiful old vestments that are in the sacristy, there is a considerable collection arranged for interested visitors in an interior room of the convento — a room formerly used as the loquorium, where daily, after dinner and after supper, the friars were at liberty to come to rest for an hour from their laboring and praying, and relax in human chat.
the next paragraph also mentions this room now housing relics "patiently got together from all sorts of places," including "from the earth of the surrounding fields as the plough turns it up"
#originally the search yielded archive.org's text version which seems to have been like that autogenerated version from (their own) scan#where it clearly results in a lot of typos as it's ''misread'' like ''inés'' becoming ''in6s''#so it made it difficult to cross reference w/the pdf scan lol...''convento'' had become ''comento'' like i figured that was wrong but had t#actually see the original text to know what had gone wrong there#speaking of limited information recorded in specific places....#how that santa inés is i believe from saint agnes; the portuguese form being inez#akd's character in ''the outside story'' being called ''inez'' in some articles but in the movie they're only called/credited as ''izzy''#a potential nickname; i could believe that this jumped off from them being named inez but thus far it remains apocrypha lol....#pentiment#it's also ofc like; how many resources on olden monastery rooms that aren't scanned / converted to text / public domain available thusly...#but you can somewhat expect Monastic Trivia to potentially show up in other sites or even via like online dictionaries....#checked as much by looking up another [term for Special Room in a monastery] and getting various results defining it#oh now i'm remembering some fun research moment learning that some like Christian Order was defined by standing during prayers instead of#kneeling...and the definition is available and they're all exactly the same b/c they all come from One Resource offering that definition#this came from that ''i'm drawing winston's Standing Posture a certain way'' moment where i read the wikipedia page for [standing] lol#which stemmed from reading the wikipedia page for contrapposto in an effort to learn other Artistic Terms For Standing Certain Ways#orthostasis....yep there it is in the ''see also'' section of the wikipedia Standing article: agonoclita / the agonoclites#7th century christian sect who Never Kneeled...name from greek for like ''i do not bend the knee''...One Citation = everyone's sole citatio#oh also noticing that a loquarium was probably all the more relevant when piero seems to note The Rule frowns on too much conversing for fu#like i've been to Dinner With Benedictines In Their Monastery multiple times lol no such pressure modern day to not chitchat#but that when Rule manifestations were thusly; a room that was like ''exempt'' from that would be unsurprising....fun chitchat hq#monasteries of w/e various orders having zones dedicated to being more chill than is supposedly required outside it....#hmm wikipedia's saying benedictines maintain silence As Much As Possible outside bonus silent hrs / social convos are Limited#news to me. also says ''but such details'' abt the day to day life is technically left by The Rule up to whatever Superior of an abbey#evidently the way of doing things at the one i was familiar with / around were not so pressed about silence / rare/limited socializing
3 notes · View notes