#everyone who contributed is so cool and smart and sexy...

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

Hello bestie it's dftsam here sending everyone who is cool and smart an anon message. I am here to let you know you have sexy opinions and everyone should kneel down and thank you for your contributions to the deangirl and deanjo sphere and also I want you to know that you have the coolest username anyone on spnblr has ever thought of or ever will think of ever in their life

OMG!!!! Thank you SO MUCH ILY!!! 🥹💖 I agree 😏 lmao

#no but genuinely. it can feel like shouting into a void sometimes so it means a lot to me #to hear that my contributions are not only seen but appreciated #answered #I didn't say anything at first because I was pretty sure I knew who it was but now that I know!!!! I LOVE your #contributions to the fandom and love seeing you on my dash. I feel like you are one of the only people on here that sees things the same #way I do and I respect you SO MUCH for being unapologetic about your opinions #*got ahead of myself I meant to say I was pretty sure I knew who it was but U didn't want to assume

[mantokusworld-blog]

  Are you looking for information about Vancouver Washington solar prices? Is it important for you to get the right details about Vancouver Washington solar deals?

Do you want to get info about Vancouver Washington solar quotes? If you are looking to find the best Vancouver Washington Solar panels - you are off to a good start...

          Oh hey there, folks! It's your pal Brendan, here to talk about everyone's favorite topic: solar panels! That's right, we're gonna chat about how you and solar can have a beautiful relationship right here in Vancouver, Washington. And who should you choose to help make this relationship happen? Why, none other than the fine folks at Wirenutz Solar, of course! But enough about them, let's talk about why you should make the switch to solar.

Let's face it, solar panels may not be the sexiest thing in the world, but they sure are one of the smartest. If you're living in Vancouver, Washington, you know that electricity bills can add up quickly. And let's not forget the environmental impact of using non-renewable energy sources. So, what's a smart person like you to do? Get some damn solar panels installed, that's what. Now, I know what you're thinking. "But Brendan, I don't want my house to look like a damn spaceship." Well, I've got good news for you, my friend. Solar panels have come a long way since the days of clunky, eyesore installations. Nowadays, you can get panels that are sleek, modern, and dare I say it, even sexy (not the sexiest thing in the world, though. That's me). Not that I'm trying to seduce you or anything, but you catch my drift.

Now, let's talk about that sweet, sweet cash money. I know you love it, I love it, we all love it. And guess what? Solar panels can actually save you a ton of it. That's right, by harnessing the power of the sun, you can significantly reduce your monthly electricity bills. And who doesn't love saving money? It's like finding a $20 bill on the ground, only better, because you get to keep finding that money every month!

But wait, there's more! (I know, I sound like an infomercial. Just go with it, okay?) By using solar panels, you're also doing your part to help save the planet. Yeah, I know, it sounds cheesy, but it's true. Traditional energy sources like coal and natural gas release all sorts of nasty stuff into the air, which is super bad for the environment. But solar power is clean and renewable, meaning you're not contributing to all that pollution. So, not only are you saving money, you're also being a superhero and helping save the planet. That's a double win, my friends.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Brendan, that all sounds great and all, but what about those rainy days here in Vancouver?" Well, I've got news for you, friend. Solar panels can still work their magic even when it's cloudy or raining. Sure, they might not produce quite as much energy as they do on a sunny day, but they still work. And when those sunny days do come around (and trust me, they will), you'll be raking in the savings.

So, what's the catch? Well, there really isn't one. Sure, there's an upfront cost to installing solar panels, but think of it like an investment. You'll see the return on your investment in just a few years, and after that, it's all gravy. Plus, with all the incentives and tax credits available these days, you might be surprised at how affordable solar can be. And let's not forget, you're helping the environment and saving money in the long run. That's a win-win situation if I've ever heard one.

Now, you might be thinking, "Alright, Brendan, you've convinced me. But who should I choose to install these solar panels?" And that's where Wirenutz Solar comes in. These guys are the real deal, folks. They know their stuff when it comes to solar, and they'll work with you every step of the way to make sure you're getting exactly what you need. Plus, they're just a bunch of cool dudes (and dudettes) who genuinely care about their customers. You won't find any pushy salespeople here, just a team of experts who want to help you save money and save the planet. 

So there you have it, folks. Solar panels aren't just for Captain Planet wannabes and hippies anymore. They're for anyone who wants to save some dough, help the environment, and stick it to the man. And if you're in Vancouver, Washington, Wirenutz Solar is the company to choose for your solar panel needs. They'll hook you up with some panels, install them like pros, and help you join the green energy revolution.

          Common Questions About Solar panels

  Question: 

How long to solar panels last?

Answer:

Generally speaking, most solar panel systems come with a warranty of around 25 years. That means you can expect your solar panels to produce power for at least that long.

But here's the thing, buddy. Just because your solar panels have a warranty doesn't mean they'll last forever. The quality of the panels, the installation, and how well you maintain them all play a role in how long they'll last. Some panels may last longer than 25 years, while others may need to be replaced before their warranty is up.

Now, before you start freaking out about having to replace your solar panels in a few decades, remember that solar technology is constantly improving. Who knows what kind of amazing breakthroughs we'll see in the coming years? Maybe they'll invent solar panels that last for a century, or ones that can generate electricity even in the dead of night.

In short, buddy, the lifespan of a solar panel system is a tricky thing to nail down. But if you take good care of your panels and stay on top of maintenance, you can expect them to last for a good long while. And who knows? Maybe by the time they do wear out, we'll have flying cars powered by solar energy. Now wouldn't that be something?

Question:

What kind of tax incentives can I get?

Answer:

Ah, tax incentives! That's the kind of language I can get behind, my friend. Let me tell you, there are some sweet deals out there for people who want to go solar.

First and foremost, there's the Federal Investment Tax Credit (ITC). This little number can get you up to 30% off the cost of your solar panel system. That's like finding a golden ticket to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, except instead of candy, you get clean energy and lower bills.

But wait, there's more! Depending on where you live, you may also be eligible for state and local tax incentives. In some places, you can get property tax exemptions or credits just for having a solar panel system installed on your home. Plus, some utility companies offer rebates or other incentives for going solar. It's like they're practically begging you to make the switch.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Joe, this all sounds too good to be true. What's the catch?" Well, my friend, there really isn't one. These tax incentives are just the government's way of encouraging people to switch to renewable energy sources. It's a win-win situation: you save money, and the planet gets a little bit cleaner.

So, if you're thinking about going solar, don't let the upfront cost scare you off. With all these tax incentives available, you could end up saving a lot of money in the long run. And who knows, maybe you'll even get a little kickback from your utility company. It's like they say, the early bird gets the worm, or in this case, the early adopter gets the tax incentives.

        When searching for the best expert info about Solar panels - Vancouver - you will find plenty of tips and useful information here.

You are probably trying to find more details and useful info about:

- Vancouver Washington solar prices - Vancouver Washington solar deals - Vancouver Washington solar quotes - Vancouver Washington solar estimates - Vancouver Washington solar installation

        Get answers to all your questions about Vancouver Washington solar prices, Vancouver Washington solar deals, and Vancouver Washington solar quotes ...

Remember... We are here to help! When you need help finding the top expert resources for Solar panels - Vancouver - this is your ticket...

  Ready to go solar and save the environment (and your wallet)? Call us at [phone] or visit us at our website!

Learn More About Vancouver Solar panels:

https://wirenutz.wildaboutsolar.com

[youngsoutheastasianleaders]

#YSEALIWLA Alumnae Network: Wonder Women Series — Dialogue 3: Cherrie D. Atilano

#YSEALIWLA Alumnae Network: Wonder Women Series — Dialogue 3: Cherrie D. Atilano

Start with the question “How we can make their lives better” and follow your passion “It’s not enough to be successful, you should also be relevant”- Cherrie D. Atilano.

On October 16th, 2022, Cherrie D. Atilano, CEO and President of Agrea Agricultural Systems International, shared her feminist icon and passion as an entrepreneur for AGREA.

Recognized by the UN and the World Economic Forum, Cherrie is an ambassador of nutrition and a Filipino farmer who advocates farmer movements toward achieving the SDGs.

Cherrie kicked off the session with her passion and purpose. In addition, she shared some tips about working in the agriculture sector.

Passion and Purpose

When she was a 12-year-old girl, Cherrie was fascinated by the fact that “When you’re poor, 100% of your income goes to food, 10% for rice and 30% for ULAM. But, if you know how to grow your food, you’ll save 30%”.

So, growing up on a sugarcane farm, everyone grew only sugarcane. For 10 months, you will work only 3 months during the planting season for management, and no work for 6 months, then have to work in the last month for harvesting. It means that during those 10 months, people do not work and start to starve, they usually go to the grocery store to buy stuff just to survive.

Since then, she realized the sugarcane issues in the Philippines, started teaching farmers, and took up agriculture.

BIG CHANCE, talents are everywhere, but opportunities and chances are not

In 2014, Cherrie established AGREA, which is innovative to cultivate human beings via sustainable agriculture, fair trade, and a replicable model of an agri-based economy.

AGREA builds the “Ecology of Dignity” for Filipino farmers to be resilient and agents of change.   Farmers learn how to grow their food while learning to take care of the environment around them and how their families can be involved.

Cherrie's business started with her passion and purpose; she believes everything should align. Hence, her business goals are zero waste, zero hunger, and zero sufficiency. She is making sure that farmers are wealthy and that children of the farmers are also acknowledged. In the meantime, the business also runs efficiently.

Bring farmers to market, how AGREA responded during the pandemic

When the lockdown happened, Cherrie came up with the innovation: Move Food Initiative (MFI) to support Filipino farmers directly delivering groceries from farms to homes. The solution contributes to reducing food waste, preventing post-harvest loss, and bringing fresh food to front people’s homes.

It’s not easy to teach these farmers to earn a living or get out of poverty because they are busy with their household lives on a daily basis. However, she trusts the power of the farmers to dream of nation-building. Thus, Cherrie started to teach them basic farming to self-gratitude.

Women in agriculture, women can give birth to powerful projects and keep empowering the entire community all the time

During the pandemic, AGREA started urban farms for women and a feeding program for the slums in Manila. As of right now, the program has over 200 women and 5 urban farms. These women work together to feed the communities, they harvest their own food for their families, save meal budgets, and have bonding time with their children.

Agriculture should be smart, cool, and sexy to mobilize youths to be a frontline in making their future brighter

In SEA, farmers are poor, aging, and have low educational attainment, so the whole country is poor. Young people are crucial factors in innovating solutions and sparking change at the root of their future. Hence, Cherrie gives awards to young people to try to encourage them to succeed in different entrepreneurship and empower others to create sustainability in the agriculture system.

Other takeaways from Cherrie

·        Position yourself, be knowledgeable about why you are there and learn basic dialects to communicate with stakeholders

·        You need to know who are partners you want to work with, delegating who will be responsible for each work and be flexible in business future

·        Consumer awareness is crucial in production lines; customers should be aware of food miles and food waste, and try to support local farmers to build sustainability in the food system.

The dialogue session was moderated by YSEALI WLA Alumna Firqin Sumartono; she is the program director of Penawar, a safe community space for women and non-men to commune. She is also the co-founder of a women-led book club focusing on Singapore literature and media.

The event was organized by the Young Southeast Asian Leaders Initiative (YSEALI) Women Alumnae network as the last of three dialogue sessions in the Wonder Women Series. The series features prominent women figures who share their experiences and personal insights on breaking gender barriers in their chosen fields. 

The post-event blog was written by YSEALI WLA Alumna Bunthicha Larlarb, a medical technologist and the team leader of UEngage.ASEAN project aims to reduce plastic waste, raise awareness of waste issues, and train youths to become leaders.

#yseali #ysealiwla #ysealialumni

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight

#bnharem collab #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #lilliths masterlist #lillith writes

[quillsink]

AIGHT WHO WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT THE BLORBOS FROM MY MIND!! part 1/???

Okay so if you’ve followed me for a bit you’ve probably heard about my OCs. I have a Lot of them but the main three whom I love with all my heart are James, Alan and Chris!! Putting this under cut because it is Long as hell. Please send me asks about them I love them so fucking much

Okay so James, Alan and Chris are a trio of friends! I created them in January 2021. James is the most developed character and my personal fav (don’t tell alan and chris shhhh) he was the first one to be created! Alan, his best friend, followed and then Chris. 

The trio are a group of low ranked soldiers in the Revolutionary War, all of the trio in their early twenties with Alan being the oldest at 25 and a half and James the youngest at 21/22/23 (haven’t decided his age yet rip). 

All three have very different personalities although they all look like your average dude and they all bond over a bunch of shit especially mental illness and being queer (totally not projecting here. nope not at all)

Anyways enough rambling time to introduce them!!

In this post I’ll be talking about James, I’ll talk about Alan and Chris in other posts!

James Evans

JAMES, MY CHILD MT SWEET BABY BOY I WANT TO CRADLE THIS FULLY GROWN MAN AND KISS HIM ON THE FOREHEAD AND TUCK HIM INTO BED, HE IS MY BOY, MY SWEET CHILD, MY LVIE MY DARLING ANGLE CHILD I WOULD GIVE MY LIFE FOR THIS MAN THAY I MADE UP

Okay now time to actually introduce him to yall!

James is your average mentally ill white boy, you can find millions of them in high school classrooms across America. He was born to a poor family and his parents were okayish but he basically fucked off and did his own thing like jon clark and then proceeded to be traumatised because I can’t let my OCs have nice things!

James is cis, he uses he/him, is the sort of guy who’s like “i do not understand what trans people are in the slightest but if anyone misgenders you i will push them into a river,” and yeah he’s pretty cool!! He’s gay and I basically coped with my internalised homophobia by projecting it onto him so yeah that fucked him up Badly.

I basically like invented him because I needed a gay character for a fic and then realised I accidentally gave him like, character traits, and now here I am over a year later still obsessed with this white guy I made up

Anyways him being gay is pretty central to his character, it reallt contributed to the alienation he faced growing up and this whole sense of being different from everyone else, it also made him more withdrawn but it also made him stronger and helped him learn how to endure the unendurable and being gay led to him making some reallt strong connections with some of his closest friends.

He has depression and anxiety and is some form of neurodivergent, probably adhd but he has no clue what is going on Up There except that he is Different  and it fucked him up as a kid. He was bullied and teased a lot so he became reallt withdrawn and quite. He wasn’t like teacher’s pet gifted kid but he was decently smart and got through til tenth grade, then had to work to support his family.

Now, when he’s like 20ish, ✨ le amrev ✨ starts and this mf signs up to be a soldier because like idk why not. That’s his entire motto brosties hes literally just some guy. He wakes up and he does things and he’s gay and then he goes to sleep. That’s it that’s his life and that’s very sexy of him actually

Anyways he signs up for the army and so does our bestie Alan. Alan and James are very very different but they end up becoming besties and James being the gay idiot (affectionate) that he is ends up falling head over heals for this depressed mf and spends his days being gay for Alan! They’re very close friends and I haven’t decided when they met yet, childhood or teens or army but ah well

Anyways onto James’s personality! He is my sweet baby boy and I love him very much in case I have not made that clear! Anyways he is Anxious. A lot. All the time. And he’s a major people pleaser as well and he often puts others before himself to his detriment at times until alan is like motherfucker take care of yourself

James is also one of the victims of something I like to call the great depresso  and he’s had it since he was like twelve but he’s just like vibing at this point. Like yeah I hate my life and I want to (redacted) sometimes but idk life’s pretty neat. Depression is shitty for him and he can be pessimistic at times 

but at the end of the day he is an optimist and he always finds hope in *everything* to the point where alan is like brostie if you don’t stop being happy then you’ll cute mt depression and the one steady thing in my life will be gone and james is like well what about me and they have an awkward gay moment 

ALAN AND JAMES’ DYNAMIC THO >>>>> i love them sm it’s unreal i will literally just think about them. like just have thoughts about them. like literally.

I’ll talk abt that later after I introduce Alan’s character!

OKAY NOW. AN IMPORTANT PART. JAMES AND LAURENS!!

James and John are like, besties and I love their dynamic so fuxking much. I would kill to see the two of them interact like i fucking love them so much you don’t even understand.

Anyways James and my interpretation of John are very very similar. Both very withdrawn very quiet very repressed desperate for affection sensitive affected really badly by homophobia internal and external dont trust very easily. They bond instantly and there is something there and they don’t really know what it is bevause it’s like they’ve never met anyone else so similar to them before. They’re like brothers.

The two of them have a quiet understanding. They can wander the woods for hours and say barely a few words but they understand, one heart can speak to another if they are designed to fit together. They met and they....clicked. It took time for both of them to learn to trust the other and realise the other wouldn’t betray them and report them for being gay but soon they’re the closest of friends. And then John fucking dies 

Also like the dynamic between James and John is entirely platonic btw they don’t have any romantic feelings for each other, they’re like soulmates but platonic 

Also I cannot understate how much I love James and John silently wandering the woods together. The woods are very very important for James and Alan and to John too and James and John find a shared peace in this. They just wander the woods for hours on end John lying down with his eyes closed head resting on a log James staring up at the canopy watching the sunlight filter through asking John why God invented sunlight John saying because he needed a place to put love.

Wait that was oddly poetic 

Anyways James james james. James my sweet beloved boy. James james james anxious smiles hugging his best friend coming to terms with being gay nervously approaching people he thinks are cool laying in grass fields wooden cabins soft breezes James. James mt angel darling child. I would die for this man. *shakes you by the shoulders* DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM

#oh my god that was so fucking long #aryan talks #james evans #james alan and chris #james and alan #james and john #my ocs

[beautifulletdownfics]

The Nearness of You - A Harry Styles One Shot

A friends to lovers one shot feat. birthdays, pining and stolen purses.

Hello, please enjoy this fever dream fic that came to me a week ago and is now somehow 13.5k and gracing your eyeballs. I’ve never written a one-shot of this nature before and it was quite a refreshing distraction from my usual, long-form fics. Thank you to Anne @oh-honey-styles​ for the encouragement (bullying) and for posting the pic that inspired it all. To everyone else, read on x katey *Because this is quite lengthy, I’d recommend opening in a browser because the Tumblr app can be glitchy*

My masterlist Chat to me here

“When you're in my arms And I feel you so close to me All my wildest dreams came true” The Nearness of You, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

++

You love the cold.

London in February isn't everybody's cup of tea, but you feel positively giddy walking down the icy Soho street in your new & Other Stories snow boots. The hard, black leather is already making your toes ache, and they're rubbing against the heel of your left foot, but they'll stretch to size, and you can tell these are going to be Your Signature Boots. The wind whips against your cheeks, red flushing them as you cross the laneway and push open the door to the chic little restaurant you've followed on Instagram for years but never had an excuse to try. Figures Harry chose it for tonight. Sometimes you wondered if the coincidences were a little too … Coincidental.

"Hi," you smile brightly to the maître d', "I'm uh … I'm here for the birthday? For Harry?"

Do I need to say his surname? You think to yourself.

"Can I have your name, please?" The suited man pulls a piece of paper out of the reservations book and waits for you to identify yourself. Your chest is rattling from the cold and the flurry of nerves you're all too familiar with ignoring.

"Y/N," you say your full name, taking in the dark floor of the restaurant, the flickering candles on the tables and lining the bar that takes up the entire left side of the room. The whole place is beautiful, just like you've double-tapped online; all deep reds and burgundies, vintage posters, and mismatched, dark wooden furniture. A jazz record plays just loudly enough to fuse the conversations at all the tables into one comfortable sound. It would make for a sexy place for a date, you decide, stolen touches under the table would feel thrilling and seductive.

The maître d' nods, you're on the list, "Back in the private dining room," he says, "Follow me this way."

You push your evening bag further up your shoulder and walk half the length of the bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. You catch the bartender watching you as you go, he's cute, and you give him an awkward little wave before calling out ahead of you.

"Sorry, excuse me," you get the attention of the man leading you through, "Can you point me to where I need to go? I'm going to get a drink to take in first if that's okay?"

"Just there," he points to the doorway at the back, next to the kitchen pass, "The curtain on the right."

Thanking him, you watch as he walks back to his station by the front door. You turn to the bar and rest your hands on the cool wood. They've stuck the pages together of old Little Golden Books for the drink menus, but you'll be ordering what you always get on birthdays, so don't take in the beverage options as you flip through The Tawny Scrawny Lion. You remember it from when you were a kid.

The bartender moves to stand in front of you, a gleam in his eyes and flirtatious smirk on his face, "Pretty good read, that one. You have to order a drink though, this isn't a library."

You laugh, he's laying it on a bit thick but probably just after the tip, "I was more a The Poky Little Puppy sort of girl."

He gives you a grin of approval, flipping a napkin up onto the bar in front of you, "What can I make for you?"

"I'll have two Old Fashioneds, please," you lean forward onto your elbows to give your feet a rest as he pulls up a second napkin and then two crystal, lowball glasses. "They're pretty," you comment without thinking.

"It's all about the glass," he confirms quickly, dropping brown sugar cubes into each one and then shaking bitters on top. Your eyes focus on the way the squares dissolve and fall in on themselves as he speaks again, "I'm Jack."

"Y/N," you give your name for the second time, throwing a brief smile his way, "I've never actually watched someone make these before."

Jack pauses and gives you a teasing look, "Do you want me to stop so you can get something to write this all down?"

You laugh and roll your eyes at him as he goes back to making the drinks. You're stalling. You know when you go through the curtain in the back there'll be a dozen people who're all dressed nicer than you, with more impressive jobs than you, who have funnier, more outrageous stories about the birthday boy than you. You'll need to stand awkwardly in the doorway for a few moments too long before Harry notices you, and then your greeting will be watched by all his cool, London friends.

You know better than to let any of that dull your shine—you really do—but you've had a rough few months, and if you're honest, you'd like your first time seeing Harry since the summer to be a little more low-key than this. So that's why you're wearing the new boots that hurt and might not suit the dress code because they're new and you feel good wearing them with this outfit. It feels a little special to be out celebrating Harry's (belated) birthday in a semi-new ensemble. You managed to fluke getting your hair and makeup just right, and yes, your legs do look pretty fantastic in these tights with the short, roll neck, knit dress, thank you very much.

"Here you go," Jack brings your attention back to him, you can smell the citrus twist in front of you, and the crystal glass deflects the light from the candles, "Can I put this on a tab for you? You're with the birthday?"

"I'll pay," you tell him, already digging for your card and holding it out to him.

"Oi!" You hear a very familiar voice call out from the far end of the bar, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you shiver, "What're you payin' for? What's she—don't take her money!"

You keep your arm out steadily to Jack and raise your eyebrows at him, "Take it," you urge him quickly, feeling him pluck it from your fingers just as you turn towards the voice you know so well.

That familiar Tom Ford cologne hits your nose just as Harry hurries up and deposits himself heavily against the bar, right up in your personal space. His broad frame blocks out the room to you, and he's lit softly in the dim light and looking radiant from within, as per usual. He's got his crazy eyes out—accusing you—and his eyebrows are pinched together slightly, but he looks good. Happy. Rested. Pleased to see you.

Harry's always pleased to see everyone, you tell yourself, Hold it together.

He pulls you into his chest for a hug. Your cheek presses just below his pecs, and you feel the way he's grown more defined since you last saw him. The material of his t-shirt is soft and smells clean. It's a tight squeeze he gives you, one that you resist reading into. Was it healthy for there to be so much comfort in a simple hug? Was your whole body allowed to tingle and fizz from the embrace of a friend? Was it pathetic to have been carrying around in your ribcage the same crush from when you were thirteen?

Affirmative. Without a doubt. Yes.

You haven't seen Harry since mid-September, the last time he was in London. Well, the last time he was in London and had time to see you. You're sure there were probably business trips, Christmas definitely. And going off Instagram, you think he might've flown into Manchester and spent a long weekend with Anne back in October, but if it was any of your business, it would've been your business. You needed to be grateful simply for what you got; intermittent texts about books he'd read or maybe a happy drunk voicemail if he thought of you at the right time. He sent an email at Christmas with a charitable contribution in your name instead of a gift.

"It's so good to see you," Harry says as he pulls away, all crinkled eyes and broad smiles. You don't know your grin has launched his heart into space and that despite having just gone to the bathroom, Harry feels due for a nervous wee. He thinks you look fucking gorgeous tonight. Knowing you've done your hair, and eyeliner, and picked that dress to come out and celebrate his birthday … It sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin—beauty blooms in front of his eyes in you.

Tell her, you idiot. Twenty-seven could be the year.

"Hi," you chirp at him happily and pick up one of the glasses in front of you, "I got you a drink."

Harry watches you fondly and then dramatically looks off to the side, lets out a little huff, "Typical Y/N, buying her own drink … You really think I wouldn't have one here for you?"

Nevertheless, he says a quiet thank you, takes the glass from you and deliberately sniffs it as if he's not sure what's inside or if he'll like it. You smack his arm lightly at the show and pick up your own glass, chinking it to the side of his and watching him over the rim as you both take your first sips. The familiar taste and view fill your tummy with gurgling happiness that sits high in your chest. He's dressed almost exactly how you expected him to be—smart, high-waisted dress pants and a printed t-shirt. You're glad you didn't go too formal, the restaurant is nice, but it's not Hatted or anything, not like the place he took you in LA that time, where you felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not realising beforehand, was properly fancy.

"Fuckin' delicious," he rumbles slowly, bringing you back to the cocktail, "A classic."

"Happy birthday," you tell Harry sweetly, thankful for what's likely to be your only quiet moment with him all night, "Sorry I couldn't make it to the LA party."

"Ah," Harry waves you off, "Your job's much too important here."

He means it. Harry's beyond proud of you. He's always telling people you work for the NHS, saving lives and keeping the country going. The party in LA was thrown together by some people at the last minute, and even though most of the friends he left in the backroom when he went to find the bathrooms a few moments ago were able to fly across for it, Harry's not the least bit put out by you not being able to. Would've been a big trip for you to do on your own and he knew there's no way you'd miss his London celebration. And you sent over a gift, which shouldn't have surprised him. His actual birthday was spent in LA, and that morning a parcel arrived from you—two new notebooks and a novel Harry read the back of and instantly knew he would love. It's what he read on the flight home to the UK.

Trust you to want him to have the gift on his birthday—go to all that trouble of packaging it and sending it over—when you were going to see him in London ten days later anyway. Harry could do worse than a friend like you.

"I just need a bit more notice than four da—

—Please," Harry's shaking his head at you, hating watching you apologise for something he really doesn't care about. "I'm glad you're here tonight," he tells you genuinely, fingers reaching out to brush your bangs away from your eyebrow briefly and—did the room just spin around you?—get a glimpse of the bronze sheen over your eyelids, "I haven't seen your new hair in person, looks lovely."

Lovely? he scolds himself, Lovely is a nice jam scone, lovely is a hug from mum …

"Oh," you coo, automatically sending your own fingers up to where Harry's had just been to reposition your newish bangs, "Thanks, still getting used to it, wanted to do it forever but wasn't brave enough to I guess."

"I like your natural hair colour, too," he continues slowly, eyes running over your whole head, "I mean, I loved how it used to be … But I like this a lot."

Shit, Harry's already failing to adhere to the strict series of pep talks he's given himself over the last couple of days. He's babbling, and he's probably just made you think he's not liked how you've had your hair for the previous twelve years. Is he buzzed from the cocktail or from the way your cheeks have gone a little pink since he touched you? His compliment made you squirm, and Harry wants to do it again and again until what he's feeling makes sense.

"Just, you know, feels like a throwback to the old days," he mumbles through another sip of the cocktail you both love, a glint appears in his eyes as he continues, "When you had Barbie overalls and would spend half a day plaiting your whole head in those tiny little rat tails."

Your mouth opens into a horrified O, and you let out a single laugh, "Rat tails? They were cool. And I was eleven when we met, I'd definitely already outgrown the Barbie overalls."

"Whatever you say," Harry smirks at you, signature dimples appearing on his cheeks, "I just remember those little beads from the ends of them ending up all over the bottom of the pool."

You smile at the memory. You remember duck diving with Gemma to collect all the beads so they could be put back into your hair the next day. Nearly drowning from laughing so hard at Harry and the other boys trying to stand on your backs in the water. Summers with Harry were always spent laughing. The local pool and skate park saw all your adventures. When Harry's dad moved in next door to your family after his parent's divorce, you and your brother hung off the fence, peering into the backyard to see if any toys or a trampoline might appear signally new kids next door. They didn't, and it wasn't until the summer when Harry and Gemma arrived for their holidays that you jumped the fence with ice lollies and offered yourself up as a new friend.

"Simpler times," you muse to yourself, looking up and catching the perplexed look Harry was giving you, "Spaced out a bit, sorry."

"I've missed my little weirdo," he grins at you affectionately, angling a little closer and levelling his head down to yours as he bit his lip and frowned, "Are you doing alright though?"

You let out a little sigh and avert your eyes to where Jack, the bartender, is busy making trays of drinks for different tables. Harry observes you carefully, a twinge of guilt forms for causing the sad look that's come over your face, but also for not having asked the question weeks ago. Gemma told him at Christmas, an off-handed comment about you being newly single. When he heard the evil gremlin in him was fucking relieved, just like he always was.

"I'm fine," you try a smile out and pull your lips up higher when you don't think Harry buys it, "Better. Had my crisis haircut and drank myself to tears with my work friends. Just a normal break up, really. M'getting used to them at this point."

A small, white lie.

Each breakup bruises you deeply. Talking about it afterwards fills you with a shame that makes you feel naked, like everyone else can see what's wrong with you but you. As though it's obvious why nobody's picked you yet. You don't ever want to talk about it afterwards, (especially not with Harry) don't want to draw attention to it. Prefer to let the disappointment and loneliness pool in your tummy and sit there heavily, weighing you down, waiting for the One Day someone spectacular might come along and be buoyant enough to float away with you.

You're looking for your forever. You want the cheesy romance, and the love, and marriage, and kids, and the whole stupid thing. You want to be wanted and loved and cherished. That's what you're ready for. You just can't find anyone who's ready for that with you. So, you date, have mediocre boyfriends who rarely make it to the first anniversary, then pick up the pieces and try again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

"Well," Harry swallows, reaches out for your arm to make sure you look at him, "You look beautiful tonight. And it's his loss, he's clearly a monumental idiot."

You give Harry a noncommittal hum in response. Just as you're about to say something you shouldn't—get into details you bet Harry really isn't that interested in knowing—you catch the movement of someone appearing from the doorway behind Harry and then approaching you both.

"Harry, mate," you don't know the guy who's recognised Harry's back and is calling out for his attention now, "Thought you might've fallen in."

Harry snaps around quickly to the voice, blocking your view. You take another sip of your drink and pull in a deep breath. Not fitting into any of Harry' groups socially has its downfalls. If his sister wasn't around, you tended to have to make friends at anything Harry invites you to. You're not part of his Holmes Chapel crew or his LA friends, and you definitely don't fit into the London group. Over the years there have been faces you've come to find familiar, but you're still the singular, hanger-on friend from Harry's second childhood home.

Peering around Harry's shoulder, you catch the end of a look between the two guys you think alludes to this new friend gauging whether Harry needs rescuing from you. You briefly wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. You know that look well.

"Aiden, this is Y/N," Harry raises his arm and angles to pull you around in front of him.

You hold up your drink, awkwardly, "Hi."

Aiden gives you a hesitant smile, "Hello," then he raises his eyebrows at Harry, "Harry, you coming back in, mate?"

Harry bites his lip and chuckles, reading the look on his friend's face, "You're a prick, I don't need saving. Known Y/N since I was twelve, we were just catching up."

You feel yourself go bright red, and you're thankful for the forgiving lighting. This isn't the first time this exact scenario has happened to you. You've been on the receiving end of that uneasy look before—his friends checking if the girl who isn't there with anyone else is supposed to be there at all. Backstage at the O2, a member of Harry's security once hauled you to the tour manager's office to check your VIP credentials were legitimate. You'll take that story with you to the grave.

Aiden deflates slightly and waves a hand your way, "Shit, sorry, thought he'd been cornered by a fan again … I mean, a pretty fan to say the least but …" he coughs into his hand when Harry gives him a glare you don't see, "Great to meet you."

"No worries," you wave it off like it's nothing. The truth is your brain has short-circuited at Harry's palm resting on the small of your back, he's not moved it from when he first brought you forward. Friendly touches weren't strange between you, but this lingering, comforting hand is burning a hole in you tonight. You haven't been out and had anyone touch you since your breakup, and Harry is setting off all you nerve endings. You tilt your weight onto your other foot to pull back from him slightly, but Harry's hand travels with you. "We should go back, I might use the loo first though, is it that way?"

Harry watches you point in the direction of the bathroom, you're flustered and he really wishes he could tell Aiden to buzz off so he could just take another few minutes with you. Brief you on who was in the room you were about to go into. You wouldn't know any of them, and Harry always appreciated that you came to things on your own, particularly when you wouldn't know anyone aside from him once you got there. He should have invited his sister so you'd have a buddy. Or told you to bring a friend. Not a boyfriend, though.

He watches you take the final drag from your drink and put the glass down on top of the bar, "Thanks Jack, t' was dee-lish," you catch the attention of the bartender, throwing him a beaming grin. And Harry watches the way the guy's features light up at being called on by you. Envy rumbles in Harry's gut, he recognises the dumb smile and dopey nod of Barman Jack's head. Has felt it a hundred times himself when he's been on the receiving end of your quirky humour.

You walk away, and Harry feels Aiden watching him, "She's fit," he comments, trying to get a rise out of Harry, reading the room perfectly.

"Fuck you," Harry grunts at him.

++

Harry sits opposite you at the long table in the private dining room.

You nurse a glass of rosé and eat the food slowly, savouring it. You deliberated over the menu for a long time before settling on what to order, you've seen photos of most of the dishes online, but there were several new ones too. Harry goes off your recommendations but spends a lot of the dinner talking to the people sitting beside him. He knows if he tried talking to you right now, he'd just get lost in you, which is both rude for a birthday party and bound to be too conspicuous.

You insert yourself into a conversation with the girls sitting next to you and pretend you're good at making friends. They spend most of the meal talking about something that was on the telly the night before. You were on shift so missed it, but pretend to be interested or like you might've seen it—anything to not stick out like a sore thumb.

Harry watches you out the corner of his eye the whole time. You've shrugged off your jacket, and he recognises the gold necklace you've got around the collar of your dress, sitting over the black fabric on your chest. He's pretty sure it was a gift from Gemma a few years ago, you wear it all the time. Harry makes a note to get you something that compliments it for your birthday coming up. You're chatting to one of his mate's girlfriends and Lisa who's been on his publicity team for years. Those would've been the two he'd have introduced you to first as well. He can't stop watching the way your lips turn up every time something funny is said, or one of the girls makes eye contact with you. Watching you try with his other friends always makes Harry feel warm and giddy for some reason.

Fuck, he's missed you. And he berates himself for the fact he never seems to remember that until he sees you again. (It's strategic usually, his heart doesn't take your company well when he knows you're going home to someone else) You're so engaging and kind and unintentionally charming, and you always have time for him. Harry knows he's not an easy human to be friends with; he constantly ducks in and out and is never around for the big things, let alone being available to call on a random day to just hang out with. The friendship is always on his terms, and he knows it makes him a selfish prick. You definitely could've done with a call a couple of months back when you had your heart broken. Like always, he missed it, and by the time he was sending you a message about an episode of Midsomer Murders, he felt as though the moment to console you had passed, and Harry didn't want to draw attention to the fact he wasn't around for it.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps back around to the person next to him, thoughts still on you across the table. He agrees with whatever was said and does his best to catch up.

Harry's got to stop thinking about how you're single at the moment. He really does.

++

A few hours later, it's the girl sitting to your left, Lisa, who first mentions the idea of kicking on.

It's after dessert—after everyone sang happy birthday to Harry over a round of espresso martinis—and you're starting to think that if you leave now, you'll be home before midnight, which means the tube won't be too deserted to feel safe. You're also at a comfortable place to wake up without a hangover in the morning. Two cocktails and a glass of wine over dinner, because any more and you're scared you could say something stupid to the wrong (right) person.

Harry's face lights up, and he looks around the room, eager at the idea of going to a bar or two for more drinks. He's not been out in London for the longest time, and he's happily buzzed enough to not be too worried about running into people. Feels like this group of friends have gelled well together. How often does he get to have a night like this in London? Hardly ever.

"Yeah, let me sort out the tab and then we're good to go," Harry says, pushing his seat back from the table and standing up, his hands hunting his pockets for his wallet and phone, "I'll be right back."

When he goes, you decide now's as good a time as any to split. You pull your coat on and say goodbye to the friends you made over the meal. Lisa gives you her business cards as if speaking to you had been part of her job, you slip it straight into your coat pocket and can already picture it at the bottom of the garbage in your kitchen. You revisit the bathrooms, and when you come back out into the main restaurant area, Harry's still leaning against the front desk, chatting to the maître d' from earlier.

He feels your small hand land on his back and jolts upright at the contact, your gentle voice calling his name softly, "Harry, I'm going to head home."

He spins around, and you catch the fall of his face, "What? No … No. You're the one I want to hang out with the most," his bottom lip juts out and his brows furrow. "Y/N."

"Thanks a fuckin' lot, mate," you hear a male voice laugh at your back, they slip behind you and out into the chilly air, and Harry flips them the bird. You were pushed closer into his chest as they jostled past and he steadied you with his arms latched onto your forearms. Still watching outside, you see a cigarette lighter flare-up on the footpath and the end of an orange butt glow spectacularly in the night. When you glance back at Harry, he's not looking happy.

"Don't pout," you tell him lightly, you reach up and press the skin taut between his eyes smooth again, "Can't wrinkle that rockstar face of yours."

His face lights up, and his skin heats where you made contact, "You can't go yet."

"Harry," your features tangle into something like a grimace, "You'll have a better time without me. Everyone seems to be pretty tight—"

—Y/N," he gives you a final, pleading look, "Please come."

You make out like you're stomping your foot in defiance, "Fine."

"Score!" Harry cheers under his breath, shrugging his jacket up over his shoulders and saying a final round of thank yous to the staff. When you're out on the street at Harry's side somebody mentions the name of the next place and points the direction of it, Harry places a hand on your shoulder as you start to walk and leans down to your ear, "I just have one condition for you coming."

You pull back and look at him, "I don't think you get conditions when you've begged me to be here."

"A birthday condition then," he edits, pressing his lips together and smiling at you with his eyes, "You have to promise to do what I say before I ask it."

You narrow your eyes at him, "I suppose you only turn twenty-seven once. You can have a single wish from me."

Harry laughs and slips his fingers under the strap of your evening bag, "Give me this."

You think briefly he means to carry it for you, which is a strange thing for Harry to request. But then he unzips it in front of you and starts rifling around inside it, slipping your phone under his arm so he can move around the lipstick and tissues and emergency Galaxy bar to eventually pull out your small purse.

"Harry! What are you—

—Ah, ah!" He holds it all away from you and reminds you of the promise. "This is mine for the night," he says, slipping your purse into his coat pocket. "Otherwise you'll end up buying too many rounds."

You try to sneak your hand into the pocket after your wallet, "Don't be stupid. It's your birthday, I'll buy every round if I need to."

"Exactly my point," he steps away from you down the street, and you skip to be back at his side. He's stolen your money and your chocolate bar.

"Harry, give it back."

"Nope," he pops the 'p' and hands you back the bag, the Galaxy bar hanging from between his teeth, still in the packet, "You promised. Now hurry up and walk, and I might give you a bite of this. 'm freezing my balls off, we are not in LA anymore."

So that's how you end up in the next bar, your handbag a little lighter, squished into Harry's side with a pleasantly sour cocktail he paid for between your fingers. The booth is so far into the back wall you're not even really sure which direction the front door is anymore. Somehow, you've managed to sit ten people around a booth probably designed for six, but nobody seems to be bothered.

Your whole right side is on fire, though.

You can feel Harry from the top of your shoulder all the way to your ankle. His hip sits neatly next to yours, Harry's left elbow rests just above your right thigh, and your knees press together every time he gets excited when he speaks and unintentionally opens his legs up. If Harry's bothered by it there's no way you'd know, he's hardly looked at you since you all sat down, much less uttered a word of discomfort about the seating arrangements. Makes no sense really, when he seemed so desperate for you to stay out with them.

(Next to you Harry's felt like he was high most of the time, he's flashing in and out of the conversations around him. Because he can smell your perfume—Stella by Stella McCartney, he'd know that fragrance anywhere, you've been wearing it since you were seventeen—and you're warm and snug beside him. He feels completely insane. But he also feels inflated with a heart-crushing joy at having you so close. He's trying his best not to draw attention to it or to you because what he's always liked most about your friendship is that you're just his. God, he needs to do better at seeing you more often, talking more, being more. Each breath as he's touching you is like a crack of electricity through his chest that aches beautifully. Nobody else feels like this. Even when he's dated, what he's felt with them can't hold a candle to his boyhood crush on you.)

You sip your drink and laugh at the embarrassing story that's being told about Harry, oblivious to his torment. Oblivious to how Harry feels your forearm brush his leg and has the overwhelming desire to deposit his palm on your thigh and keep it there, probably forever.

It strikes you that the last time you saw Harry was before the current anecdote about him in Italy happened, and at the table, it's being spoken about as though it was ancient history. You wonder what historic classification your memory of thirteen-year-old Harry would get, that time he attempted to bleach his hair with lemon juice. He ended up with second-degree burns on his forehead from the acid reacting with the sun.

Or the time Gemma stayed in Holmes Chapel for the summer because she had her first boyfriend, and so you spent six weeks learning that maybe you'd been wrong about who your favourite Styles child was. Maybe the boy who, when you were eleven, didn't impress you much, suddenly at thirteen, demanded all your attention. Made that summer become the first where you considered your outfits and whether your mum sending you next door with homemade snacks made you look lame.

"… And of course, Harry can't walk away from a dance floor when he's on the tequila …" everyone around the table laughs. Harry peeks at you to make sure you are too, but he's not very good at it because you notice, a smile flares on your lips.

You're used to long periods of not seeing each other, it's how it's always been. Harry and Gemma spent the summers with their dad and then returned to Holmes Chapel for real life. Sometimes that's what it still felt like, as though each time you saw either of them you were acutely aware there was a foreign Real Life they would go back to without you.

Harry in particular. You were used to not seeing him for months on end, usually the whole school year. Just a few messages over MySpace and birthday cards, and then, when you were out of school, invites to parties Harry couldn't come to anymore—'I'm in Australia, how insane is that? Sorry, I'll miss your 18th …' or 'I can only stay until the 8th, could you maybe graduate a week earlier? ;)'—and emails every other month with a new mobile number for you to overwrite his contact in your phone with. You're not saying you feel hard done by in your friendship, you don't. It's just always very take-what-you-can-get with Harry.

"You've got your thinky eyes on," he's pivoted his whole body towards you, hips twisted in an entirely uncomfortable looking position. Harry's got his resting elbow on the table right next to where your hand holds your drink, and he's looking down at you with careful eyes, "Where are you?"

"The pool a dozen summers ago," you answer easily, pursing your lips together and running a knuckle along your hairline, "Thinking about your ah, burn incident."

Harry's face explodes in a grin, and his eyes roll up to the ceiling and then capture yours again, "For fuck's sake, you're never going to stop bringing that up, are you?"

"You were a horrible blonde," you remark quickly, "If you ever so much as blink in the direction of a packet of bleach you have to call me, okay? I'll have no issue telling you, categorically, you should never dye your hair."

"Categorically," Harry mimics you childishly, "Alright, I get it, you went to uni. No need to use words with fifty syllables to make me feel stupid."

You bring your glass up to your lips, "Come off it, Harry, you're ten times smarter than me."

His forehead raises, "You're the cleverest person I know. Don't make me call Gem to confirm it."

"Don't bring your sister into this, Harry," you deadpan.

He goes to reply but holds back, something unnamable travelling across his eyes as he watches you lick your lips after taking another sip of your drink. Harry's leaning a little closer than he might usually, and despite the fact he's a few drinks in he still smells only of Tom Ford and clean clothes. He's just about to ask you what you're doing the next day when he gets hit in the side of the head with a coaster.

"Hey," he cries out, pulling back from you and frowning around at the group trying to figure out who the culprit is," 'M the fucking birthday boy, watch it."

Lisa is the girl directly across from Harry and yourself, and she's is the one who threw it. She's giving Harry a coy smile and holds up her empty glass to him, a not so subtle request makes the drink in your hand feel like a concrete brick. Something dirty you don't like having. She's got captivating blue eyes and straight blonde hair—exactly Harry's usual type. Your heart sinks as he slides out of the booth next to you, laughing at her flirtatious request and taking a tally of who else wants a new drink.

"Y/N?" Your name is delicate on his lips, and it makes you want to cry. Why is it so easy for you to make things feel like they mean more with him?

You direct your smile his way, "I'm good, thanks."

His head tilts to one side, "You sure?"

"Positive," you nod, feeling your cheeks burn as everyone watches the exchange.

"Okay," Harry taps the table with the corner of his phone, "I'll be right back."

After a few moments, you sneak off to the bathroom, happy to see Harry's beaten you back from the bar when you return. He's sitting in your spot, deep in conversation with the person beside him who you recognise from the radio. Tentatively, you slip in next to him, careful not to touch him this time. Harry's got his hand casually resting on the table, turning your glass forty-five degrees one way and then back the other way as he speaks. You think about reaching over and pulling it out of his hand gently (you're losing your buzz, and Little Miss Bombshell across the table has made you feel silly and juvenile) but it looks to be an almost serious conversation, so you don't. With a smile plastered on your face, you look around the table, resisting the urge to pull out your phone to check if either of your flatmates has text you to meet up with them somewhere.

It's a delicious whiff of your perfume behind him that turns Harry's head. You're back from the bathroom, although nobody was able to confirm that's where you went when he got back from the bar and asked after you. Harry pushes your drink over and gives you a smile, taking note of the fresh layer of lipstick and messy oomph to your hair that perfectly shows off the new style and bangs.

Golden, he thinks, As always,

"Your new hair really does look beautiful," Harry tells you, the bar stilling around you as his face becomes all the world is for you at that moment, "Next time, don't wait for a dickhead to break your heart before doing something to make yourself feel good."

You swallow down the thickness in your throat, "Thanks, Harry."

++

Walking to the next bar, Harry can't stop himself from asking.

"What happened?"

You kick your foot out as you wait at a set of traffic lights, half the group ran to cross, but you, Harry and a couple of others were too slow, "What happened with what?"

Harry watches his breath fan out in front of his face, "With your ex, with …"

"Tim."

"Tim, yeah," he turns to look down at you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, "What happened with Tim?"

"Nothing really," you start strong, then shrug one shoulder as you think about it. It's safe to cross so you wait until you're stepping up over the gutter and onto the opposite footpath before you continue, "Probably a lot of little things but … Always felt like he thought I was asking for a bit too much. I guess in the end he just didn't like me all that much."

The way your voice drops kills Harry, he's not detecting self-deprecation but something far worse. He's detecting acceptance or acknowledgement or like you're confessing some truth that should have been obvious.

"Y/N," he stops walking and halts you as well, lets Adrian and Lisa walk around and out in front of you, "If he didn't like you very much then he's got some kind of chemical imbalance. I mean it, this guy's not worth a second of your heartache."

It's not like Harry's a dickhead about it, not like he thinks you should date people with more money or status or who are more impressive. A person isn't their job or what car they drive, he knows that. Harry's not about judging anyone, but you really do seem to date guys not worthy of you. He hasn't met many of them, but Harry knows this to be true because if they were worthy, you simply wouldn't be single right now. If you dated someone half-decent, there wouldn't be a chance in hell they'd let you go. You're beautiful and thoughtful and intelligent and funny—so funny—which means Harry knows without a doubt that this Tim guy was an absolute fuckwit.

"It's not necessarily about the guy," you start and Harry can hear the thick emotion in your voice, "Is it? It's about the idea. The disappointment is more about not getting the fairytale, not finding my person. Not getting the whole package everyone else seems to have found. I know Tim wasn't right—truth be told I didn't end up liking him very much either—doesn't stop me from being sad that I still haven't found it."

"'It'… That's what you're looking for?" Harry asks, eyes out front where the rest of the group are all stopped waiting at another set of traffic lights.

They're laughing and chatting loudly to other people on nights out, and hanging off street poles to get funny pictures. He doesn't want to catch up to them, not when the two of you are in the middle of this conversation that's making his heart race and his hands sweat. He starts taking smaller steps.

"Yeah," you breathe out, almost sounding ashamed of yourself, "Don't seem to be looking in the right places."

Look over here, Harry thinks.

"But I mean, each breakup I end up getting something out of it," you've flicked your positivity switch, "This time I got these boots and bangs," you kick out your foot and watch Harry take note of your footwear, "Last break up I got four houseplants and a new watch … It's not all bad. What about you?" you turn it back on Harry, "Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

It's hard to tell with Harry. You either find out from his sister or sometimes, social media. Although that's all usually trash. Generally, when Harry's seeing someone, you'll hear it confirmed from Gemma, and the next time you see Harry, it'll be something you're assumed to know. You haven't seen Gemma since Christmas time though, for your annual festive get together, and she didn't mention anything. Tim had ended things with you a few days before, so that was the main topic of conversation.

"No," Harry confirms what you'd already deduced—and hoped—in your head, "Not for a while now."

"Got your eye on anyone?" You quiz faux cheekily, your smile a little too wide.

Yes, you, he says to himself as he looks at the side of your face.

You hope he's not got some girl in LA he's into. Just like you'd hoped his answer to the previous question. But the hope was silly, something that bloomed in your chest each time you saw him and died again before you were home in your bed, alone.

"I'll let you know," he says aloud.

You think you see something else there in his expression, but you know you can't have. Your mind is swirling, and you're feeling a tingling sensation all over that you know you shouldn't. It'll only leave you disappointed when you part ways tonight and don't see him for another few months. The tiny bits of maybe mores and perhaps are dangerous to things to cling on to now, they'll all turn into Nothings very quickly.

Someone steals his attention away from you when you get to the next street corner. Most of the group are gathered there, and you're not sure whether to believe it when Lisa says they missed the green man to cross the road because they were talking. She sides up to Harry and starts waving her hands around in an animated story about something or other. Harry crosses the street with her, and you give him up for the night.

But he's acutely aware of what's happened. Harry's not stupid—he's emotionally intelligent, and spent enough time with Lisa on nights out before—and he can see that she's deliberately pulled him aside. He likes her, quite a bit, but she doesn't make his insides flip, or his toes curl. She's firmly Just A Friend. Harry hasn't spent countless hours over the years thinking about her, lying to himself about how he's completely fine when she starts dating someone new. He's never thought about an alternative life, one where he stayed at school and went to uni and got a regular job and maybe (definitely) ended up with her.

He's imagined that life with you—more than once. More than a dozen times, if he's honest. For years now, Harry's bitten his tongue and smiled through the pain of not being able to have you. And sure, most of the time it's a dull ache, deep in the recess of his mind, that needs to be called on or conjured to really be felt, but it's always been there. He's always had an (Astronomical) Soft Spot For You. Ever since that summer you broke your arm falling off the back of the ramp at the skate park, and he first saw you cry. At fifteen he didn't know what the hollow but sharp pain through his heart was as he rushed to your side, but now he knows that was the first sign he didn't see you as just a mate. Would never again see you as just a mate.

And now, hearing you use the word 'it'. You say you're out there dating idiots trying to find it and Harry's just unwaveringly sure he that could be him. He wants to be it for you.

You've pulled out your phone and fallen behind, face pulled down as you type away furiously. Harry watches you out of the corner of his eye, half just to watch you and half to make sure you don't get separated entirely from the safety of the group.

"Y/N," he calls out, unable to keep up with Lisa's story and unwilling to try to tune back into it. She stops short, and annoyance flits across her face, but Harry still turns to you, still crosses his arms over his chest and gives you his best scolding look, "It's the oldest trick in the book," he goads you. Lisa sighs behind him, and he ignores it.

Your head slowly comes up and takes in Harry (and Lisa sulking behind him), "What is?"

"Fallin' behind so you can peek at my bum."

You point at the long coat Harry's wearing that goes to his knees, "Can't see half of you under that thing."

"Ah, ha!" He calls out, his pointer finger floating in the air right in front of your face, "So you've tried."

You shove his shoulder and step around him, trying like anything to act neutrally. You're aware Lisa is still watching on, and you're not used to your friendship with Harry being quite so carefully observed. You know your face has gone red and you're really not going to involve yourself in a pissing contest with her. It's not classy and certainly not your vibe.

As you walk away, boots clip up behind you, and Harry heavily drapes his arm right across your shoulders, pulls you into his side, "Was just teasin', love."

"I know," you respond quietly, not upset, not really.

"Though I might've made you sad," Harry continues solemnly, "Know you get embarrassed in front of people."

Your face cracks into a smile, "Opposite of you, hey, you're practically an exhibitionist."

He should flirt because you've led him to a pretty easy window into a dirty joke, but something has Harry hanging onto his regret, "I mean it, shouldn't tease you …Should be old enough to use my words, tell you what I think."

You've got no idea what he's on about, "Harry, the teasing was fine. Where's this bloody bar though?"

Up ahead, everyone's standing on the footpath in a clump. Harry can feel the next words on his lips but has to hold them in when his mates turn and see he's finally caught up. They're waiting a few minutes for a table, someone explains, then they'll be able to go in. Harry thinks how little he feels like another drink at another bar. A few people walk away from the group to share cigarettes. You're standing a little bit away, under the sign for the butcher next-door and kick your foot back against the wall like the slight movement might warm you up.

As he steps up to you, Harry watches you get distracted by the group of people spilling out of the bar you're all about to go into. He doesn't want to take advantage of knowing you're newly single also doesn't want to let this opportunity pass. You're always dating someone, or he is, or there's some other reason not to. There's always a reason to hold back from you and Harry refuses to believe it's the drinks he's had nudging him into this. Neither of you is drunk, he wouldn't even say he's tipsy anymore. Just warm and contemplative and less inhibited than usual.

"C' mere," he calls softly, the tips of his boots landing right in front of yours, your bodies a hands' width apart. He wants you closer.

"Harry—

He opens up his coat to you and when you don't move—your brain is busy short-circuiting—he acts for you and winds his arm around your shoulder to encase you in the warmth, "Get in," Harry says, "You're shivering."

You're shocked by the contact, at him being so close and inviting you in and then just taking you in his jacket. He's wrapped the lapels around both your bodies and forced you against his chest. He hums against you, but you're feeling incredibly awkward with your arms hitched up against your chest and pressed rigidly into his shoulders. You've not been in a hold like this before and certainly not with Harry.

He pulls back and digs around for your wrists, "You've gotta put them around me," he stretches his arms behind his back, taking yours with them and instructing you to really settle against him. "There, that's better," he wraps the jacket back around you, and the two of you stand like that—hearts pressed together, scents converging and your whole frame shaking against his—for what seems like far too long for it mean nothing. Right? Your thoughts ricocheted around inside his jacket and go nowhere, solve nothing in your mind.

Over your shoulder, he sees the rest of the group have gone into the bar. He's not surprised none of them called out, Harry's angled you both away from the door and with his head ducked down against yours they probably (hopefully) missed you both there.

It's Harry's twenty-seventh birthday, and maybe that's made him sullen or introspective. Made him think about the passage of time and how another year has passed him by, yet here he stands in the same place as ever—wanting you. Wishing for more, or waiting for a moment that feels right, or hoping something will happen. With growing older comes a sense of regret and an acceptance that twenty-six has happened and anything he wanted to achieve by that age but didn't he never will. There's only the future. Only the things he can do. And the mix of all that with the cocktails has Harry feeling as though he has to act on this. Every birthday he thinks maybe by the next one the Somethings or the Maybes might have happened, and you won't be standing in front of him as just his friend.

"Always had a thing for you," Harry says, his chin resting against the crown of your head while his arms link around low on your back, holding you against him, "I've always liked you more than I should."

Oh god, you think, your chest freezing in place, I'm hallucinating.

"What?" Now your heart is really racing. Or maybe it's completely stopped, seized up and fallen out of your chest onto the salt-covered footpath.

His voice comes out evenly as he repeats himself, "Feels bigger than a crush, but I guess that's what it is … Since we were kids."

(Oh, how those words have been his best-kept secret for all these years but now, in less than two seconds, he's let go of them more easily than almost anything else he's ever done)

"Y/N?"

Harry thought he'd be scared. Thought this would be a moment of panic. Every time he's imagined this he's thought 'and I'd be absolutely shitting myself because what if she doesn't feel the same way?' but now that he's said it he's almost completely calm. The only reason he's worried is that he can feel how hard your heart is beating—even through the layers of clothing—and surely that quickly can't be good for your health.

You're speechless, and he leans back so he can see your face and, oh your eyes. Why on earth didn't he say it to your face, so he could be looking in your eyes? Watch his words project across your expression and settle into your mind.

You look worried, and Harry's transported back to that time he had you on FaceTime when he was somewhere on tour with One Direction. He was telling you about how management was going to let them fly friends out on tour, bring a little bit of home along and give the boys some needed space from each other. You were nodding along and so excited for him but sure Harry was talking about someone else, that this was just news and he'd called up to tell you how he was inviting the boys he went to school with in Cheshire or people he met through X-Factor. Of course I'm bringing out you and Gem, you idiot, he'd told you when you were surprised to get an invite, Who else did you think I was talking about?

He kind of loves watching the look on your face right now, the cogs turning in your head and wheels spinning, furiously trying to figure out what Harry means.

Why isn't he terrified of what you're about to say?

"Why … but you've… and I've…"

Your hands have moved to his hips so you can see him properly, and Harry's encouraged by the fact you haven't pulled away or pushed him off you. You're watching him with a puzzled look on your face and a burning heat across your cheeks.

He brings his forearms up to rest on your shoulders and smiles at you, "I wasn't brave enough to act on it … Guess I didn't want to fuck it up. Didn't want it to not work out. Couldn't stand you becoming an ex."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Right." You don't seem capable of more than one word at a time.

"You feel bad for yelling at me about the chocolate bar now, don't you?" Harry's narrowed his eyes playfully.

That does it.

Your eyes snap back up to his face from being fixated on staring at his neck, "Chocolate bar … No, what the fuck, Harry."

He laughs. A real laugh that comes from the base of his tummy and squeezes his eyes shut and crinkles his nose. His head falls back, and it's a deep, uninhibited laugh, "Don't stomp your new boots at me," he eventually says, crooking his head down to be almost pressing his forehead against yours. "You've been my favourite girl for years, I've always been a pansy idiot who didn't want to wreck the friendship."

"Oh, and now you don't mind wrecking it?" You bark back sarcastically, unsure why you're angry at him but you are.

"No," Harry says softly, moving through your emotional responses seamlessly, "I don't think it's going to wreck it, do you? Think twenty-seven has finally given me the balls to pursue it. To tell you how I feel. How I've always felt."

Your eyes instantly ball with hot tears you weren't prepared for, "You're an idiot."

"I am," he agrees readily, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

"Why have you told me this now," your voice is small, unsure.

Harry frowns, now he's starting to panic, "Do you … Do you not feel the same? Or do you not think maybe you could?"

Oh, if only he could have been in your head every time you saw him these last few years. Heard you talk yourself down and away from anything more than platonic, from any thoughts that might elevate you in his eyes. You've spent all this time trying to convince yourself to believe you were nothing more than a friend to him, and now this.

"Harry, are you sure you—

—I'm sure," he insists quickly.

"I just—

—I'm sure."

You're suddenly very embarrassed by the conversation the two of you had earlier about your ex. The conversation where you basically told Harry you're incredibly desperate to settle down and find The One. He's so achingly cool, and you feel like a little tinned tomato, thin-skinned and persistently flustered.

Tinned tomato? Really? You berate yourself, Case in bloody point.

"Y/N"

You scratch roughly at your forehead and grimace at whatever thoughts are going through your mind, "I'm just …"

Harry brings one hand up to fix your bangs, carefully sweeping the hair back across your forehead evenly, letting the pads of his fingers dust over your skin, "I think if you didn't feel the same you'd have said No by now."

His words steal the air from your lungs, "Harry, you've just always …"

"I've always?"

"I never thought …"

The smile comes up over his face gently, "It's me, Y/N, please finish a sentence. I'd really like to kiss you, but you haven't yet said anything to imply you'd be open to that …"

You pull your lips together like a reflex you can't help, you've rarely let yourself fall that deep into imaging things with Harry, but your body reacts to his words in an instant, "Promise you're not kidding …"

"I promise I'm not kidding," Harry said sincerely. "I'd never kid around about this, Y/N."

You believe him, and ten seconds of bravery comes over you, "I was thirteen."

His eyes narrow slightly, trying to figure out what you mean, "Thirteen?"

"My thing for you," you continue quietly, heart racing as adrenaline swamps your legs, "Started the summer I turned thirteen."

Harry hears the slight shaking to your voice and almost misses what you've said. Then it hits him.

"Oh yeah?" He squints at you and pulls up his nose with a smile, a secret little smile that will never belong to anyone but the two of you. The Smile that happened just before Harry leant down and kissed you for the first time, pressed his warm lips against your cold ones and really breathed you in.

He holds it like that for a moment, your lips touching but not moving. Then his hands come up to cup your face, and Harry moves his mouth to one side, just a touch. You open up to him, and he has the brief thought that this is probably the Most Important Kiss Of His Life. His insides curl in on themselves as he gets completely lost in you. Completely lost in how perfect this moment feels and how much finally kissing you feels like a relief.

You can't believe this is happening. You're still tucked into Harry's coat—warm and safe—but now you're joined at the mouth, and Harry's a really really good kisser. He's got his thumbs pressed into your cheeks and his fingers laced through the hair around your ears. When his tongue first licks your bottom lip and then goes searching for yours, you don't think you've felt yourself flicker On so quickly. A soft moan escapes your lips, and Harry's kiss somehow becomes harder, his nose bumping yours where he'd been good at keeping things smooth until then. As quickly as it intensifies, Harry takes a slight step back and drags his mouth away from yours.

"Y/N," he breaths out your name, sealing your lips with one of his thumbs as he pulls back. Harry's taking stock of your face (hopefully) getting used to being this close to you. Noting the way your eyelashes kink out at an odd angle right at the corner of your eye, and the freckle that's so close to the edge of your mouth he's never noticed it before. Harry's can feel your heart has slowed down, and the expression on your face right now is content, but curious. He's also sure he can see fear under it all.

"Well," your voice shakes, because Harry's looking at you like you've only dreamed and now that you're here you're not really sure what happens next. You kissed Harry.

He clears his throat lightly and his hands both fall to hold either side of your neck, "There's no way I'm going back to not being able to do that whenever I want."

Then, he kisses you again. You feel yourself melt against him as Harry's chest presses back against yours. You link your arms around his waist, clutching the back of his shirt between your fingers as Harry leads the kiss with a hand on your neck and the other holding your chin carefully. You've picked up right where the last one let off, hungry and exploring and a little bit desperate (perhaps a lot desperate) to have more of each other.

But then his phone rings in his trousers pocket, right against your hip, and you jump away in surprise.

"Shit," Harry mutters, pulling the stupid machine out, cursing the universe, "Sorry … It's Aiden," he tells you with an eye-roll.

And then you're back to reality. Your drinks have all worn off, your feet ache, your ears are freezing, and you've just made out with one of your oldest, best friends. Shit.

"Oh," you take a hearty step back, hands slipping out from Harry's coat and your body bracing the full brunt of the cold night, "Yeah … That's—

—Aiden," Harry barks the name of his mate down the phone while at the same time hooking his free arm around the back of your neck and pulling you close again. He's not giving up touching you that easily, and he doesn't care, quite frankly, about giving you any room to start internalising or retreating from him, "No, we've gone to get some food … I'll see you during the week sometime. Tell everyone thanks for—Yes, I'm serious … I don't care, saw all you lot last week … I'm hanging up now. Bye."

You listened in on the conversation because it was really all you could do. Aiden was obviously inside the bar, and they were all wondering where Harry got to. We've gone to get some food, Harry told him, so they'd know he was with you. (You supposed he was hardly going to say, 'oh yeah we've been out the front making out') Bits and pieces of the other end of the conversation, you were able to pick up on, but not enough to truly know what was said. By the end of the call, Harry was smiling though, you could hear it in his voice.

His nose found the shell of your ear and Harry leant into you, "Come back to mine, or we can go to yours … Watch a movie, play Scrabble, anything … Just wanna be with you."

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Harry," you murmur, your mind struggling to make sense of what's just happened. You're outside a club in Soho held against Harry's chest with lips that know what he tastes like and a body that's on fire.

"I'm not tired," he shoots back, "Are you?"

"Well, no but—

—Great," Harry turns towards the road, takes a few steps to the curb (you trot along with him under his arm), as he flags down a black cab. "Mine or yours?"

His question is simple, he prompts you to answer by calling your name as he opens the door for you and gestures for you to hurry up and get in.

"Yours," you say.

Harry doesn't speak much in the cab, you figure it's about privacy. You hope it's about privacy. The thirty-minute drive out of the city and to his place feels much longer. Halfway through he reaches over for your hand and gives you a reassuring smile across the back seat. You thought the journey might make you sleepy, the sitting down in a warm car would bring the haze over your eyes and bring the long day to a close in your mind. But you could never feel sleepy with Harry's fingers playing with yours, or when he leans over and kisses your cheek for no reason at all.

At his house, Harry tells you to make yourself at home while he turns on the kettle for a cuppa. You kick your boots off in the hallway, and your feet start throbbing in relief as you follow his retreating form. It's certainly not the lusty, hurried entry you imagined you might have. Which only plants doubts in your mind about what's actually going on between the two of you.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom," you call out ahead of you, turning back to the stairs and taking yourself up to Harry's second storey.

Upstairs you don't take long. You're looking a little worse for wear—who wouldn't at 3am—but you're not really in the mood to try to fix yourself. Even if you did Harry would notice, and that felt like something you wanted to avoid. As you walk back to the landing, you wriggle your toes in your socks and happen to look back down the upstairs hallway. You've been in this house dozens of times before but this time feels different. It feels quiet and intimate somehow. Just as you're about to go down the first step, you see Harry's bedroom door is open on the opposite side of the stairs to the bathroom, and you notice something that makes you stop.

The book you got him for Christmas is sitting on his bedside table.

You're standing over it before you realise that your legs have started moving, looking at a picture of Anne, Gemma and Harry, a bottle of water and the book. You pick it up, the cover a little bent and the spine cracked to where he's read. Harry's using the birthday card you send along with the gift as a bookmark. The top of the familiar design sticking out the top of the pages, you can't even really remember what you wrote inside. Something generic probably. Platonic.

Happy birthday, old man! Have a wonderful day, sorry I can't be there in person. Love, Y/N.

The floorboard at the top of the stairs creaks and you turn around to Harry looking surprised to see you standing over his bed. He's got two cups of tea and a family-sized Dairy Milk bar under his arm. Something churns inside you, this was Harry as you'd always known him. Except now you looked at his lips and wondered why the hell you weren't kissing him.

"Oh, yeah, I've been reading that," Harry sees the book in your hands and walks towards you, "It's excellent, unsurprisingly."

A smile starts on your face, "You doubted my selection ability?"

"Never," he returns quickly and then raises his eyebrows at you, "Looking for anything else?"

You feel your cheeks heat and you drop the book back into its place, "No, sorry, I was coming down the stairs and saw … I'm sorry."

Harry passes you a tea, "It was really kind of you to send something over. Was fun having something to unwrap on the day."

"I'm glad," you smile and take a sip of the tea. It's sweet, and you screw up your face, "This is yours."

Harry watches you with a strange expression on his face as the two of you swap mugs. He's worrying his bottom lip, obviously weighing something up in his mind. You see it when he decides what he' going to do about it.

"I've got something I want to show you," he tells you finally, tilting his head back to the door. "Wanna come see?"

"What is it?" You ask automatically, but Harry's already walking out the door, and you have to hurry to catch up.

He leads you into his study, and you hover in the doorway as Harry sets his tea and the chocolate down on the desk. He pulls Bananagrams out of the draw and places it next to the mug.

"We're actually going to play Bananagrams?" You ask.

He looks back at you, "You'd prefer actual Scrabble?"

"I didn't know what you meant by—I guess I …"

Realisation dawns on his face, and he widens his eyes, "Oh, you thought it was a euphemism."

"No!" You snap back quickly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks (for the record, yes, you thought 'a movie or Scrabble' was a thinly veiled way of Harry suggesting … something else), "No, I just … I just don't think I'll be able to spell words right now."

"I didn't think you were still tipsy" Harry states, shit-stirring.

"I'm not!" You squawk at him. "I'm… I' m—You kissed me!"

He grins, loving the fact he's driven you a little crazy, "Yeah. Want me to do it again?"

Harry's playing with you. He's teasing. And you know it but what you don't know is how he's so confidently jumped to it. Not when you feel like you've been left on the street outside the bar trying to figure out what the hell this means, and what's going to happen tomorrow when he stops looking at you like that. You don't like to think this whole night could've been him playing with you, you don't know Harry to be that cruel. But there's a tripwire in your mind you keep getting snared on.

It's Harry.

"C' mere," he reaches his hand down across the room between you both, "C' mere and kiss me again. You don't seem to be getting it."

"Getting it?" You're cut off by Harry taking two big steps toward you and then planting his lips on yours again.

His palms find your hips, and you hold him in the same spot. It takes a moment for the two of you to find a rhythm, and even then, you're too in your head. You're struggling to remember what little Harry's said about this whole thing. You know he said he had a crush on you and you've gotten the distinct impression he wasn't too fond of your ex. But for all you know Harry's been kissing his mates like this for years but just never gotten around to kissing you. You might've been next on the list. He's a friendly guy. Maybe a crush isn't what it used to be. Or maybe—

He pulls back from your lips with a huffy expression on his face, "Y/N," he says quietly, "I'm a man with an incredibly fragile ego, whatever you're worrying about is really getting in the way of kissing you."

"I'm just—

—Let me show you what I brought you in here for," he interrupts you, takes your hand and tugs you towards the window. Then, he puts a hand on each of your shoulders and directs your attention to the wall.

It's lined with record sale plaques for singles and albums over the years—double Platinums and Gold-Somethings. Harry watches you eyes run over them all, a proud but unsure look in your eye. You're not sure why he's showing them to you, he knows that. He hopes you're not intimidated by them, he's certainly not showing you to try to score any points. There's a sweeter gesture behind it. He points to one leaning against the wall, not hanging. He's got it resting on the bubble wrap it was sent over in.

Stepping up closer behind you, Harry rests his chin on your shoulder, "That one's for you."

"What?"

"I want you to have it, been saving it for you … If I ever got brave enough."

The question falls from your lips before you really think about it, "Why would you want me to have it …"

Harry waits to see if you'll let on you've figured it out, he thought it was pretty obvious really, but you've never been one to elevate yourself or assume, and Harry knows that about you. So, when you don't keep talking, he confirms it for you, "That song is about you."

You just blink, eyes on the framed plaque taking in the name of the song and hearing it in your head.

It's about me? You think you want to hear it, you need to Google the lyrics and make sure you have them right in your head. Harry wrote a song about you. Harry wrote that song about you.

"When … When did you write it?"

"You mean why?" Harry raises his head and steps to stand next to you, he observes your face carefully.

"No, I mean when." You're starring at it like the plaque might answer the question, "When did you write it?"

Harry runs a hand over his head as he thinks, "A few years back, after that time you came out to LA … Didn't record it until this year though …"

Harry watches your face expand in surprise and then crumple back down to confusion. You really don't get it. He's not sure how to make you in one night. He supposes he can't. So he trails his hand up the back of your arm and then around your back, tilting his head down and waiting to see if you'll pull away. When you don't, he kisses the corner of your mouth and then opens his wider to take you lips in his properly.

It's different to the kisses outside the bar, now that you're both out of your outer layers Harry can feel your body against his in ways he's only dreamed, and it's sending everything straight between his legs. Harry's hands explore your back and the curve of your hips, thumbs almost reaching the underside of your breasts but not quite. It's a little awkward when he senses you've felt him hardening between you. Usually, lust clouds that moment, and Harry doesn't mind intimate partners being acutely aware of how they're affecting him. But with you he's a little hesitant, he senses the awkwardness on your side. Friends don't feel those body parts on each other, friends don't… He almost groans when your mouth leaves his without warning.

You think he'll probably change his mind about all this.

"Have you changed your mind?" You ask, not able to stop it.

Confusion colours his features, and his lips smack together, like he's savouring tasting you, "Wha—

"About wanting to be kissing me," you clarify.

"What? No." Harry's eyebrows have shot up, and he's shaking his head, "I barely even started! Didn't I just say I wrote that song about you—why the hell would I—want to do more than just kiss you—You think I'm gonna change my mind?"

You shrug, "Maybe. I don't know."

"Well," he stands up straighter and pins you with his stare, "I'm not. I promise I'm not going to change my mind. And I promise I'll never make you feel like you're asking for too much. Ever."

"Now you're trying to make me cry," you say, hearing him repeat back to you the insecurity leftover from your conversation about your ex. You're half kidding with your words but also not. You believe him. You trust him.

Harry grimaces, sways your bodies together gently, "I really hate seeing you cry, could you not? I had other plans."

You sniff through a laugh as Harry wraps his arms around your middle tighter," What plans are those?"

"Well, I literally thought Scrabble," he tells you through a smile, trying his best to make you laugh, "But I'm open to whatever dirty things you were thinking as well."

"You'll win Scrabble."

So, Harry instructs you to bring your tea and your sore feet back into his bedroom. He gets you a fluffy pair of hiking socks and tells you to take yours off, and your tights, and get comfortable on the bed with him and the block of chocolate. You've polished off a family size together before, the sugar going straight to your heads and always leading to a giggly night of reminiscing and Almosts.

This time though, you only get halfway through the tea and Harry pushes the chocolate off the bed onto the floor in favour of you straddling his hips. It started with a stolen kiss against your temple, and then another on your cheek, and one close to your lips, and then you captured his face in your hands and really kissed him. Within a few moments, Harry was dragging you over to him. His hands settle on the swell of your backside as it sits against his thighs and your lips trace the line of his jaw. This was really happening. You'd really let him peel off your dress and flick off your bra. His shirt was somewhere with the forgotten snacks, and you seemed extremely eager to keep feeling his hardness pressed between your legs.

"I swear to god, I never dreamed this would happen," he murmurs, hissing when your hips pressed into his at a different angle, "Was sure I'd be going to your wedding one day, completely miserable and probably end up drunk and causing a scene. Embarrass you so badly you'd never want to see me again, and you'd just run away with your stupid husband."

You pull back and watch Harry ramble, your bare chest rising and falling against his, "You're a real glass half full kinda guy, aren't you?" you smile at him.

"I just," his eyes drop to your chest, nipples puckered for him, and he scrunches them shut then drops his forehead onto your sternum with a big sigh, "This is fucking unreal, and my brain is just struggling to comprehend—you're breathtaking, and I feel like my chest is gonna explode."

"It's also 4am, so there's always the potential your brain is just plain tired," your index finger is drawing circles on the back of his shoulder as Harry leans against you, you pause and run your hand over the back of his head, "Maybe we should sleep for a little … I'll be here when you wake up," you say in response to Harry squeezing his arms around your waist tightly as if you were going to disappear. Or worse, leave.

His indescribable green eyes find yours in the light from the bedroom lamps, "Will you let me hold you while you sleep?"

"Yeah," you nod, although somehow that question seems more intimate than the lack of clothes between you at the moment. You're distinctly less dressed than Harry, who's still got his trousers on, you're only covered by your underwear.

"We don't have to rush this, right? Got all the time in the world now," still, as he speaks his palms trail up your back and then down again, skimming the sides of your breasts, "Just don't wanna miss anything is all."

"I promise I'm incredibly boring in my sleep, won't miss anything," you tease, "Might be the only time you get any peace."

Harry tightens his forearms around your back and finds the soft skin below your ear with his lips—once, twice, three little kisses—"I feel pretty at peace right now, just having you here. Feels like I'm living a dream."

You don't reply for a moment, but you let your body rest against Harry's in a comfortable hug, your voice is quiet, "You really wrote me a song?"

"I did."

"I've always loved that song."

“Well, it's been yours all along."

"Nobody's ever written a song about me."

"I should hope not."

"Are you going to write another one?"

"Without a doubt."

++

Chat to me here

#OOOO SHIT what have i done #well #1dff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles X reader #harry styles stories #harry styles imagines #harry fic

[im-gettingby]

Thirsty Thursday

extreme dehydration edition

Not sure if anyone’s started this yet, but I actually drafted this post in advance this time so I’m gonna post it 😂

All fics above the cut are G or T

Things To Remember When Loving Simon Snow by @problematic-mind

You’ve probably seen the associated art for this, which is just as lovely as the fic. It’s in second person which is very, very cool. Just exceptionally soft and thoughtful.

All’s fair in love and war by @vampire-named-gampire​

We all love a Watford-era magic-gone-wrong fic. Especially if it involves Baz getting exposed. This is a very good and fun fic, with cool magic!

Under the Mistletoe by @seducing-a-vampire​

AU where Simon is a mall elf and Baz is his nemesis from uni. It’s so funny. Literally every other line had me ROLLING. An excellent Mordelia, as well.

Dark Clouds Roll by @snowybank​

ugh look it’s a struggle not to rec at least ten of their fics every time I do a thirsty thursday, but I’m TRYING to keep it short so that you actually read one (and then go read all the others because you’re obsessed.) Baz & Simon are trapped in a room. Baz needs blood. Wherever shall he get it?

Detectorists by shushu_yaoi_lj (I can’t figure out your new URL, sorry!)

Simon is one of those metal detector guys. He tries to detect on Baz’s property. It’s funny.

I’m going to tag everyone tagged in this rec list, and everyone who actually bothered to read such a long and rambling post!

M & E under the cut.

**the last fic under the cut is a trans headcanon rated G, but it’s under there so as not to trigger anyone :)**

Rated M

Knock, Knock by shushu_yaoi_lj

this fic said simpard rights and I’m so here for it. Basically, Baz walks in on a lot of compromising situations involving his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s best bro. Of course, it’s all a big misunderstanding ;) Go read it!

The Anniversary Effect by star4545

This is a really unique, weird, dark fic. It’s so good and interesting - go read it! (tw for character death and sexual assault)

Sword of Mages Tattoo by RooBadley (incomplete)

It’s funny, it’s sexy. There’s character development and tattoos. Each chapter is punchy and makes you want more! The fic is updated frequently and completely written, so don’t be afraid of reading it as a WIP.

Rated E

A Pint’s A Pound by @stillmadaboutpetra​

um. I don’t know what to say about this. It’s just -- the work of a crazed genius. Poetry in fanfiction form. Together, the characterization, writing style, and content create the most incredible and hilarious reading experience you will ever have.

Also it’s a rival bakeries AU involving detailed baking knowledge, puns, and Simon as an ex-GBBOer.

Goodbye, Norma Jean by @captain-aralias​

magickal mishap turned fuck or die (kind of). Super interesting use of magic sharing. It’s smart, it’s funny, it’s porn.

crawl into this space inside your mind by @knitbelove​

Speaking of smart & interesting. (Speaking of writing style that contributes to the overall experience.) Wow, the utter brilliance of this thrall fic is a lot to take in.

Mr. and Mr. Snow by @wolfywordweaver​ (incomplete)

Have you ever thought, I want to read a fanfic that is funny, sexy, heartwarming and angsty, all at the same time? Do you just want to see Baz and Simon getting into hijinks as sexy assassins? Then this fic is for you. Fully written and updates regularly. Seriously, this is a masterpiece!

Everything with you by @nevergonnacallmedarling​

this fic said fuckboy rights and I love it. Look, in canon Simon and Baz are virgins w/ a lot of intimacy issues, which is great, but let’s not forget that sleeping around is great too, if that’s your thing. And it makes for a fun and excellent story. Basically, they’re flatmates and friends with benefits who also have a lot of other friends with benefits, because they just can’t get it together. The whole gang is part of this sexually hyperactive incestuous friend group. I’m not sure this will be as funny to people that didn’t know friend groups like this in college, but it was very funny to me.

this last one’s rated G but is a trans headcanon, so it’s under the cut!

boyfriends, boxes and bad coffee (the one where baz and agatha are trans) by catrastiel

A good Baz & Agatha friendship fic with trans Agatha, whom I always love, and Baz figuring out that they might be nonbinary, and it’s just like, awkward and sweet and I love it.

#snowbaz #carry on #wayward son #simon snow series #simon snow #baz pitch #fic recs #fic rec #thirsty thursday

[hasegawasosise]

In Numbers We Trust

Summary:

Prompt master: @outoftheframework

I like the concept of each of the kids having a number or having a thing where they count off. Not in a demeaning or dehumanizing way at all, just more so to use in dangerous situations. For example, a bomb goes off on patrol, and to quickly see if everyone is okay, the kids (including Steph and Babs) automatically start counting one at a time. Bruce can breathe again once the count reaches eight. This tradition begins to carry over to civilian life when the kids yell numbers across a crowded gala after the power goes out.

Beta Agenthandler

Bruce never planned on starting a family. He made a vow to live for justice. He would be the force Gotham needed. He would be the forever bachelor. Justice was his Lady Love.

But 90% of life’s plan was just that—a plan. Bruce would never have guessed he'd end up taking in a boy who called himself Dick Grayson. Technically his ward, but Bruce suffered a mid-life crisis every day from thereon, wondering whether it was the right choice for him to adopt a kid—or why anyone sane would let Bruce Wayne adopt any kid in the first place. It was a testament to Dick’s own awesomeness that he grew up to be a mostly functional adult—Bruce definitely wasn’t.

After Dick, he recruited an amazing girl named Barbara Gordon as another sidekick. She was not officially his adopted daughter, but by day two of working together Bruce registered her in his little hind brain as “my kid.”

Then another. Jason Todd not only stole the Batmobile’s tires but also Batman’s heart. The little boy taught Bruce more about street-smarts and how to be a better person right until his death. His realized depth of parental love made him wonder why he ever adopted anyone in the first place—and ended up losing them that way.

After what he thought was the last, another one came into his life without invitation. Timothy Drake was a genius detective. Out of his first four—yes, Bruce could still count—Tim was the most similar to Bruce. They had the same kind of upbringing amidst the Gotham Elite, they were both highly focused and detail oriented individuals. Tim was even smarter than Bruce, and he was the sole reason Bruce could continue functioning after Jason’s death. Tim was also the only one to believe he was still alive and brought Bruce back from when he was lost in time.

After Time was Stephanie Brown. A cheerful ray of sunshine that had her own worries, but could function the best out of all his children. She had the kind of light sarcastic humor to brighten up Bruce’s darker days. He gained a third daughter, Cassandra Cain, the most accomplished amongst his children in terms of stealth and combat, also his one darling princess.

Then Bruce was introduced to his—one and only—blood son, a little baby assassin who had the unfortunate tendency to stab first ask later. By this time, Bruce had a better handle on raising children highly susceptible to raising hell and violence (read: still an incompetent parent, but he knew how to tune out their nagging) and had no choice but to assign Dick  with Damian’s education on humanities and socialization.

He also had Helena, Terry, Matt, Duke, and Harper.

Bruce lost count.

It was the ultimate testament to Bruce’s parenting skill. He sometimes couldn’t remember how many kids he had. He could lose them in a Walmart and forget he was missing one. But thankfully, he had a secret weapon.

Since Jason, he assigned them all numbers. Dick was one, Barbara was two, Jason three, Timothy four, Stephanie five, Cass six,  Damian seven—although he always said he was the first—Duke was eight, Harper nine, Terry ten, Matt eleven, and little Helena was twelve.

Imagine that. Bruce had twelve kids. What was his vow again? Lady Love Justice? Don’t know her.

It became sort of a tradition. When the kids entered the Wayne manor, each of them wrote their number on the info board down in the changing room. They were also listed on a desktop note of the BatComputer. It became a ritual in which the last child would add their newest sibling into the list, so they knew who the next number was supposed to be, and that next child would be who they were responsible for. Well, except Dick who accepted all of them as his baby chicks. The number also became a little part of their identity—each of them would put their numbers on everything they owned from their doors to their batarangs to the containers in the fridge.

Bruce, most importantly, used the numbering system to check in on them. It started when Penguin detonated a bank and his robins were scattered fighting all the hundred thugs Penguin hired to keep Batman busy. The blast stopped the fight and Bruce’s heart dropped when he realized his coms were damaged and he immediately couldn’t keep sight of them. He immediately tried to think what he could do, and when he did,  he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“KID COUNT!”

“One!” Nightwing shouted from the top of the next building. Apparently he flew off the bank’s  roof when he realised it was going to burst.

Oracle was two but he knew she was safe in the clock tower.

“Three,” Red Hood drawled. Bruce wondered why he joined in, but was thankful nonetheless.

“Four,” Red Robin shouted from the opposite direction, because he was the sensible one who directed the civilians and police to safety.

“Five!” Spoiler laughed and flew to his side. “That was a doozy!”

“Six,” Black Bat said as she appeared beside Spoiler where they shared a hi-five.

“Seven,” Robin pulled out his swords from a thug’s leg. “Father, I need to clean my sword immediately.”

“No stabbing, please.” “Too late.” Bruce groaned.

“...Eight?” Signal. He was still new to the numbering system.

Batman let go a deep relieved sigh.

The police and civilians who were fortunate to witness the scene, collectively said ‘Oh’. It became a trending twitter before Tim deleted the topic as much as he could.

********

The counting continued though. Citizens who have lots of children (such as parents, teachers, sometimes even the Police teams), realised it was a quick method to ensure update of their progeny/students/teams condition. So they  The counting became sort of a Gotham Trend and eventually enlisted into Gotham’s Emergency SOP. Imagine that, having too many kids to count gave birth to a crucial disaster first-aid first responder procedure.

In all actually, maybe that was one of the top major contributions Batman has given to his city.

********

The kids themselves slowly embraced the importance and fun of the numbers. It created a sort of camaraderie-- even when the numbers didn’t correlate with their height. It used to be a nice isoquant curve when they stood side by side. But after Jason’s growth spurt and Tim naught growth spurt, Steph finding high heels and Cass love for Anti-flood Boots, the nice isoquant curve just became a jagged line not unlike a heartbeat rate.  

That aside, the numbering also slowly bled into their civilian lives:

1.

All of them counted before they entered the GothMart -- Alfred was there too, and suddenly Bruce became number 0. He was there to help Alfred because herding the kids was a massive job.

Dick was back for the weekend to spend time with his “babies” and refused to stay at home, because he wanted to sneak in his grocery list (gummy bears and cereals) into Bruce’s list so he could bring it back to Bludhaven and not spend a dime on it.  

Jason was there because Alfred asked him for help--he was the only one out of the brood with cooking talent and generally all responsible in the kitchen, i.e. Alfred could trust Jason to use his kitchen without blowing it up (shoutout to Tim and Duke who blew the kitchen for the fifth time this year).

Barbara stayed at home, watching over their base, but she was ready with her surveillance just in case they lost one of the broods.

Tim was half dragged, because he had spent the last 30 hours awake doing Bruce-knew-what, and only agreed to be dragged with the promise of sweet, abominable GothMart coffee with pink glitter (a cheap imitation of Starbucks, really) because Tim was fabulous especially after thirty hours of no sleep. And the surprisingly awesome coffee was a dollar--what kind of frugal millionaire didn’t appreciate a dollar of drinkable coffee?

Steph was the one who dragged Tim, with the help of Cass who just returned from Hong Kong for the weekend. Steph wanted to buy some new bras for Cass, something cool and sexy she could enjoy immensely. Bruce was not privy in this knowledge.

Damian was there to ensure his embarrassment of siblings didn’t kill themselves or humiliate the family. Wayne was his legacy afterall, and all of them reflected on his legacy, whether he liked it or not. Duke, the only one whom he could tolerate outside Cassandra (Grayson was mother) just poked his cheek and grinned. Duke might be tolerable, but it didn’t mean Damian didn’t want to stab him sometimes (Drake, on the other hand, looked like a nice pincushion to stab his sword into).

They counted 0 to 8 before they entered, orchestrated by Alfred.  

When they were ready for the checkout, 4, 5, and 6 were missing. Bruce finally found them at the children section, where Tim was busy defending his virginity from a Superboy Plushie, while Steph convulsed with laughter on the floor and Cass video-ed the entire thing.

Bruce refused to buy the cereals (Dick) / sexy lingerie (nope, nope, nope) / kitchen knife collection in black (Damian, as they didn’t need another stabby collection). But Bruce ended up buying the superboy plushie because it had been tainted (the store manager glared at him the whole check out time). At least Tim looked ashamed enough when he was handed the superboy plushie.

2.

The gala was in full swing, full of important people and not-so important moochies. Bruce was entertaining a group of usual donors (important and fun people!) while he saw Tim seriously discussing the stock exchange trends with several old, serious men. Dick was charming the usual group of ladies and young men, while Cass seemed to be hiding behind the potted plan.

Then, just like usual in Gotham, the lights went off. The room suddenly became dark and people started to scream.

“KID COUNT!” Bruce shouted. “Zero,” he added because of habit.

“One!” “Three!” “Four!” “Five and Six!” “Seven.” “Eight” “Nine.”

Wait, did he bring Harper with him? Harper was allergic to this kind of gala--and that was why he never fully adopted her into his Wayne name.

Oh well. The more number he got, the better.

Justice Lady love who?

#bat family #batman #bruce being a good dad #bruce is a bad dad #bruce is a bat dad #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #timothy drake #damian wayne #cass Wayne #harper #barbara gordon #prompt by @outoftheframework #prompt fill #numbering system #Alfred is the leader #bruce is one of the kids too

[magnaflourious-nerdity]

B99 and The Good Place

YES. THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE THE GOOD PLACE AND BROOKLYN 99 SO MUCH. AND NOBODY EVER WANTS TO TALK TO/WITH ME ABOUT TGP. I made my friend watch it with me just so I could talk about it with someone lol. Also because it's just a genuinely good show. (Next up I'm gonna make her finish iZombie with me too, haha.)SO! For B99Favorite Main Character:Its gotta be either Rosa or Jake. You know I'm in love with both Andy Samburg and Stephanie Beatriz. (especially Stephanie Beatriz, *dreamy sigh*)Fun fact! My favorite side character is Kevin. Whether it's in B99, The Good Place, or on the Thrilling Adventure Hour, I love the deadpan humor of Marc Evan Jackson. He is, after all, a naughty bitch ;p. Favorite Female Character:Oh, for sure this goes to Rosa Diaz. I love her so much and Stephanie Beatriz plays her to absolute perfection. it's so cool to be able to see such a badass lady cop on TV, who both plays to and subverts the typical Strong Silent Badass™ trope. Rosa is from a cooler world than any of us.OTP:I know it's a boring answer, but it's gotta be Jake and Amy. From the jump their relationship was built on mutual (if, admittedly at first, somewhat begrudging) respect and trust. They were friends, which is so rewarding to see. There have been couples like that on TV before, but usually it's all a lot of 'will they, wont they- which can be fun too if done right, like seasons 1 and 2 did -but it's refreshing to see it played in such a different way. Jake just straight up told her and didn't expect anything to come from it. He didn't pressure her to like him back and he didn't even hate on Teddy (until he got all weird and creepy in later seasons, and even then he was polite) while he was dating her. He respects her and treats her well and I will forever remember the scene where he tells everyone why/how he decided to propose to her, it was perfect and truely sweet. Jake and Amy make each other better. He helped her to loosen up a little and compromise without getting rid of her take- charge, eager-to-please attitude or her independance, and in turn she made him into a (slightly) more mature person. Amy helped turn Jake into a (somewhat) functional adult, but she didn't force him to lose his fun, childish side either. They genuinely care for each other in a way that you dont often get to see on TV between Het Couples. Like the episode where Amy takes the Sargent's exam and Jake says he always knew Amy would be his boss one day? HE RESPECTS HER SO MUCH. Almost any other sitcom would have Jake's arc for that episode be about him feeling insecure at the thought of his future wife being his boss, but B99 didn't and I love them for it. Their love is so sweet and believable. I even teared up a little during the wedding scene because I'm an absolute sap like that. I also really, really like the chemistry between Rosa and her potential new girlfriend Alicia (as played by the also amazingly beautiful and talented Gina Rodriguez.) They had immediate chemistry- which I'm huge on -and Alicia seems like a genuinely cool and sweet woman. Anyone who can make Rosa lose her composure in front of people she cares about has gotta be something special. I'm hoping in the next season NBC will let them bring Gina Rodriguez back and she and Rosa will become TV's gayest and most dynamic power couple. That would be pretty sweet. Sorry that this has turned into Rosa and Jake fest. But if it helps, Holt and Kevin are definitely couple goals too and I'm glad Kevin'sgetting so much more screen time. I agree with Jake: I also want them to be my two gay dads. Not that I dont love my dad, I'm just welcoming in the extra role models, lol. Lord k ow I probably need it.NoTP:I love that the show steered away from it, because I wasn't really much a fan of the Boyle/Diaz Dynamic of season 1. But, I do honestly love them as bros together. It's another trope the show subverts since Charles is the one who's super in touch with his emotions and helps out Rosa in her relationships when she has trouble expressing hers. I just... I really love relation/friendships built on trust and respect. It's my jam.Favorite Other Pairings:I know she's not your fave but I do like Gina and Rosa together, they have a fun, snarky vibe together and Gina does genuinely care for Rosa and respect her opinions, way more than she does with most other people. Except maybe Holt. Also Amy and Rosa. I love episodes where the two of them team up together. Basically, what I'm saying here is that I just want Rosa to date ALL the girls on the show, haha.Least Favorite Character:I hate to say it, but I want a huge fan of Pimento? Like, he was dangerous and rude and I know he went through a lot of trauma undercover, but dude needed some help, and I mean just that, really. He needs to be in therapy for his PTSD because it's affecting his relationships and his whole life.I'm not too big a fan of Hitchcock either, just because like... Okay, so, Scully is dumb and occasionally rude, but at least he tries to be nice most of the time and even tries to contribute; Hitchcock is... kind of a jerk most of the time? I know that's the point, but still... like, fix yourself my dude.Also, I do really love to hate The Vulture. He's insufferable, but his dynamic with the team and their hate for him is so much fun to watch. Of course when I say least favorite, I still like these characters, it's just that if I had to pick, it would be these three.Favorite Season/Episode:I actually really like this past season a lot. Like, so much happened! ROSA CAME OUT! JAKE AND AMY GOT MARRIED! HOLT AND KEVIN GOT QUALITY SCREEN TIME AS A COUPLE! It was pretty amazing.I love the episode where Rosa came out to her parents. It was so sweet ♡ and I think it's really important that it ended in such a medium place. Like, that happens to people sometimes other TV shows, sometimes parents dont either accept you wholeheartedly or kick you out and denounce you. Sometimes, you just get stuck in a crappy in between place (note: not deflection btw, my parents are cool with my identity, but I has happened to people I know and it sucks watching them try and get through it without sacrificing the relationship between them and their parent[s]). And we never get to see that because TV likes to focus on the extremes. And Rosa found out that you can find your own family if you need too. Which, as you know, I am always up for in my media. Found family tropes for everyone!Who Would I Date:I mean... look how many times the words Jake and Rosa have come up in this post. In your heart of hearts you know the answer to this question.Rosa (whom I have to separate from her actress because I love them both, and for different reasons) would be a little hard to date for me, just because she's so closed off and sometimes ya girl needs some validation of affection. But she's so...so cool. She does the right thing, even if she'd rather hit the problem in the face with an axe, and I know she's a police officer but it still counts, damnit. She has all these layers to her, like the dancing and the gymnastics and stuff. She doesn't reject traditional femininity, it just doesn't appeal to her. Also I bet she'd make anyone feel hella safe. She's... honestly the best word I can come up with right now is dreamy. Rosa Diaz is a Dreamboat with a capital D, and I'm sorry, but if you dont think so you're wrong.Jake is kind of the polar opposite. The only thing I would see becoming a hypothetical issue in the hypothetical relationship is that I can also be immature and messy and garbage at being an adult. We'd be too similar and it wouldn't help anyone, unlike with Jake and Amy. But he's so sweet and caring and funny. He's a genuinely great guy who respects everyone who deserves it, and sometimes even people who don't. Plus he's definitely a good cuddler and I like being the big spoon, so that would work out well for us.----------------------As for The Good Place:(WARNING! Spoilers for The Good Place are below, so if you're asking me but haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend skipping this until you do watch it, because I don't want to spoil anything for you. It's that good.Favorite Main Character:How, actually, do you choose on this? How?!? I love them all so much, truly. Chidi is a nervous smol (though also very tol) beanpole. Eleanor is always a Mood™ and she shows so much growth over the course of just 2 seasons (same with Michael, but that'smore over the course of 1 season. I'llgive him a pass though because it was entertaining as hell when he finally realized the concept of mortality). Jason became so much more lovable and sweet in season 2. Janet is my favorite omniscient NonBinary robot ever. And Tahani is, to quote Eleanor directly, "A sexy, tan rapunzel. The dream." Plus, she really knows how to go all out with something, which is fun. I loved how into her role as Rhonda Mumps she got. Plus, watching her tell off her parents was so good.I think I'm gonna have to go with Either Chidi Eleanor or Janet. That's as much as I can narrow it down though, because I am weak.Favorite Female Character: Well, since Janet is not a girl, but instead- as mentioned above -an omniscient NonBinary robot person, I'll go with Eleanor. I think I just really relate to her character. Which means I should probably shape up my life, lol. But it's so nice to see a smart, funny, unladylike and kinda sleazy character, who ultimately has that heart of gold and a desire for self-improvement played like this by a woman as a main character. She's like the likeable, morally gray sidekick in so many romcoms, but she gets to be the focus for once. I dig it. Also, I tend to flock towards bi-coded characters. Have you seen Eleanor's collection of flannels (Janet could literally get her anything to wear, but mah girl craves that bi aesthetic)? Any of her interactions with Tahani? That girl is bi af, if not pan. OTP:Oh, for sure it's Teleanor (Elhani?). Like, the chemistry between Jameela Jamil and Kristen Bell is so thick. They're so good together! And I swear if I dont get a flashback to attempt #218 at some point I will cry. 2nd OTP is Chidi/Eleanor because a) they're super cute together, B) they make each other better, and C) LOOK MA, ITS AN INTERRACIAL COUPLE AS THE MAIN FOCUS OF A SITCOM WHERE THE POC IS A DUDE! I've heard tell of it in legends but never seen it before in real life! I joke, but seriously, it is neat to see.Runner up: J² (aka Janet & Jason). What can I say? I'm a sucker for cute, oddball couples who shouldn't work but ultimately do.NoTP:I wasn't very keen on Tahani/Jason. Like, it was a fun distraction, and it did lead to the scene where Tahani tells her parents she ate a cheeto, and it also gave us some much needed Janet screen time/character arc stuff, but they just didn't work for me as a couple. I think, though, that that was kind of the point? Like, they needed to make that mutual mistake together so they could get to where they needed to be. Jason grew up a bit and learned to problem solve and Tahani gained confidence and the personal growth she needed to tell off her douchey parents.Favorite Other Pairings: Is it weird to say Shawn/Michael? I feel like it is, but I would still read it. Also maybe Janet/Eleanor. That could be fun.Least Favorite Character:This is slightly less tough than the questions above, but if it came down to it and I had to pick, I'd probably say it's pretty much just amounts to a few of the characters that the show designed for me to hate.Figuratively, everyone in Tahani's family is a garbage human being. And not in like, the fun, likeable way that say Eleanor or Jason were 'garbage people,' but in the awful, 'I would gladly punch you in the face' kind of way instead. Same goes for Eleanor's parents and her roommates (Though the one who remained her friend after she switched up everything in the season finale was okish in S2, what little I saw of her). It's super weird, but I actually do like the demons for the most part. Shawn is amazing to watch, which I, in large part, chalk up to Marc Evan Jackson's performance. And I even liked Vicky and Trevor, in that same, The Vulture from B99 sort of way. So literal demons are more likeable than the characters mentioned above, which should tell you something.Favorite Season/Episode:Season 1 was amazing and that first Cliffhanger twist was wild and awesome and I didn't figure it out until about 30 seconds before Eleanor did because it was so good, but it wasn't just a twist for the sake of it either, like, the season was built around it and makes sense with it, which is really cool to see in a sitcom. HOWEVER, all things being equal and with that said, Season 2 was EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW?!?! they ditched the formula and changed it all up! It's a sitcom! They never do that! And they only spent like what, 1 to 2ish episodes replaying the new attempts? And they focused on some of the Bad Place characters too while they were doing it, so it didn't get boring. That could have so easily happened too, if it hadn't been handled as well as it was by the writers. But it was handled well and they kept changing things up and giving us more info on the characters lives and their deaths and all that good juicy character development stuff I love so much and it was so, so worth watching.Episode wise, season two had my favorite episodes too, starting with the big neighborhood-ending party and all the way up to the finale (the episodes before then were also great, obviously, but that run towards the end had me captivated so thoroughly I almost called in sick to work to finish them, haha.)The stuff where they infiltrate The Bad Place was golden. If I had, had, had to pick a single episode... yeah, nope, I'm still not able to because it comes up a tie between the one where they leave the neighborhood behind or the finale. There was so much good character stuff, and lots of little found family type moments and Mindy even got a little bit of a reward at the end! (Side note: something deep inside of me loves Mindy St. Claire so much and wishes I could have more of her confidence and fuck it attitude). The demons were hilarious and Judge Gen was a delight to watch! This show is just so good, it makes me want to cry a little. Just a bit. I'm so excited for season 3!! Less than a month left yeah! ♡Who Would I Date:It would probably come down to either Janet, or Eleanor. Tahani has potential, but she's too...aristocratic to actually date for me, I think. Chidi would be an amazing partner, but I feel like we're both such anxious people that it would quickly become an unmanageable tornado of stress and bad decision making, lol.Janet would be cool because she's weird and fun and chipper and so sweet, plus she has all the knowledge in the universe which is neat. I do love a smart cookie. And with Janet since I'm more demi/ace-ish and since she doesn't have sex parts, that would take a weight off my mind I think. So check off 'would date a self-aware, omniscient robot' on my list of weird character traits.Eleanor would also be a good candidate too because she's relatively down to earth and laid back, as well as being fun and relatable and just... kind of a cool chick. Plus, I know deep down she actually does care about things and is a decent human being, which is sort of a must in a partner, lol. The only drawback is that we might make each other worse because we'd probably let each other get away with a lot, so it might be somewhat counterproductive to the point of the show, haha. ----------------------Thank you so much for asking these! And for letting me rant and rave over my two favorite sitcoms in what has, apparently, turned out to be a fucking essay on 'Things I love about Brooklyn 99 and The Good Place'. Sorry I got so verbose about it. I'm also sorry that I, as a person, always fail so completely at making choices and narrowing things down, lol. But this was fun! Hopefully you've seen TGP, I'd absolutely hate, hate, hate to spoil such an excellent and surprising show for someone. Assuming you have, I'm gonna run over and ask you about this one too. In fact consider this an open invitation: if you need someone to talk to about B99 or TGP, consider me your gal!

[simontheoreo]

Spierfeld Week Day 4: College

The Teacher’s Assistant Simon was doing pretty well at his university so far, a lot better than he thought he would do. Some people excel in college while some end up flunking out due to the stress. Simon honestly felt like he would be the latter of the two, but he wasn’t. Except in Mathematics. It had always been his worst subject. All throughout elementary school the teachers kept telling him he was getting the right answer, but his process was wrong. Complete bullshit. This is what messed him up through high school, which in turn screwed him up in college. Despite his less than mediocre Math skills, his hard working attitude towards his college courses had given him a lot of confidence, that and coming out in high school.  Even with the Math, Simon was at a good place in his life. He was feeling better than he ever had, and it was a great improvement to his life. Even with the gaining of the freshman fifteen. Surely, with this newly found level of bravery he had what it took to flirt with the absolutely gorgeous teacher’s assistant. The drop dead sexy teacher’s assistant. Maybe he was contributing to why he was close to failing Math. Or that he could never find his textbook, but that was besides the point. The TA was so cool…so smart…so dreamy. He’d daydream all class period. Tall...short curly hair…those inviting brown eyes. This crush was almost on par with his roommate, who Simon also couldn’t stop thinking about, or staring at, whenever he was around. His roommate and the teacher’s assistant, between the two, Simon was boy crazy. He could do this. He WOULD do this. So after class he walked up to the front of the room once everyone had left and made a small coughing noise. “H-hey there.” Simon said with an open mouthed smile. The boy looked up at the giddy guy who was in front of him. “Hey Simon, what’s up?” the assistant raises his eyebrows. The assistant was a freshman like Simon, but he always wore a beautiful lavender tie whenever it was time for this class. It was so damn cute. “I w-was just gonna say I was really impressed with the lecture today.” Simon continued to stutter on his words “But I’m still a little lost.” The assistant crosses his arms “Is that so?” “Y-yeah.” Simon clears his throat. “I was gonna ask if you could you know, tutor me. Or we could get dinner, or I mean I could buy you dinner.” Simon gulps on his air as he watched the assistant get up and move closer and closer to Simon. “I mean you don’t have to if you don’t wanna. Not that I was trying to control you or anything I just don’t know how to ask for-“ Simon’s words were interrupted by the teacher’s assistant pulling his hips close and planting a kiss right on his lips. “Si we’ve been together for a long time now, you’re still afraid to ask me for help with your schoolwork?” The assistant laughs and shakes his head. “What am I gonna do with you, Jacques?” He ruffles Simon’s hair. “I know Bram, I just wish I was as smart at Math as you, you made teacher’s assistant on the first week for God’s sake.” Simon rolls his eyes playfully as he laughs along with Bram “Well thanks for the compliment Babe, how’s about we go get some lunch and we go over what’s confusing you?” Bram asks as he wipes some sweat from Simon’s cheek. “You’re on. Thanks Babe, would be a big help.” The boys start to walk out of the classroom before Bram pauses. “Oh, by the way, you keep leaving this in our room.” Bram pulls out a Mathematics textbook out of his backpack. “Maybe this is why you’re so lost.” He says in a teasing manner as the two walk out of the room. “Or maybe it’s because you look so damn good with the business look.” Simon laughs, nudging his boyfriend.

#spierfeldweek #simon spier #bram greenfeld #love simon #simon vs

[imababblekat]

Fitting In: MTMTE Swerve X Reader

(S/N):

-Summary: Being a mechanical being with a love for organic life, namely botany, it’s no wonder you feel like you don’t fit in amongst your kind. Swerve isn’t about to let you feel like an outsider though for having such a unique occupation. 

Author: Imababblekat

A/N: This is my first time writing Swerve or for the MTMTE verse, so ye. . .fair warning if its not up to par

~

Swerve made his way down one of the many long corridors of the Lost Light; a giddy smile plastered to his face and small box in metal hands. He hummed excitedly taking a turn down another hall, feeling his spark pick up when he recognized the familiar door ahead. The mini bot had been waiting all day for this moment; practically jumping up and down eagerly from behind the bar counter. The patrons didn't figure anything different about it, used to the mechs chipperness that sometimes became over bearing. . .okay a lot of times over bearing. He didn't care though, Swerve was too pre-occupied with seeing one of the few people who actually didn't mind him. Not even bothering to knock on the habsuit, he just waltzed right in, right in time to see his dear crush singing to 60's music blaring through the stereos.

His steps faltering as her body moved about. It was so rare to see her relaxed like this, and just being herself. Gosh, he just loved the way she moved; so free and lose. And her voice too. It carried with the loud vocals and was like sweet candy to his audio receptors. Swerve wished he could see this side of her everyday. As the song got to a high point and the lovely mech before him swung her helm back and forth, performing a very fluid dance move, Swerve let out a cheering whistle and clapped; gift tucked safely under his arm.

"Hey! Not bad!", Swerve yelled over the music.

(Y,n) screeched, jumping and nearly knocking over the pot on the nearby shelf. Fumbling to turn down the loud music she sharply turned to face her friend with a deep blush.

"Swerve!"

"Yeah?!"

"What did I tell you about knocking?!"

"To do it before walking in, but you see I was just so excited to see you! Plus if I knocked I would have never been able to witness such a grand performance! You sure you grew up on an energon farming planet, and not on Caminus?! Cause-"

At this point you had just tuned him out, turning back to your small bonsai to finish trimming. It wasn't that you were doing it on purpose, usually you loved hearing him go on, but with how you'd been feeling lately, something that he had said triggered your ever mounting insecurities.

Caminus, shit you wish you were born there. Then maybe you'd actually fit in with your mechanical race. You could be like Nautica! Oh how you wish you could be like her. The femme was so incredibly smart and talented, and even if she claimed not to be great in the arts, she was in fact an amazing dancer. Yeah, the girl could be a little shy every now and then, but she always managed to get past that and go on as her normal preppy, upbeat self. You though? Primus, you'd use to take a different route from your destination if it meant you could avoid walking by another mech completely; no matter if that direction would take longer or went the opposite direction of point B. Deep in your self depreciating thoughts, you hadn't noticed Swerve calling your name.

He was just joking about how you, Nautica, Chromia, and Windblade probably had a secret band, and should play at his bar. When you hadn't even giggled slightly in embarrassment from the idea, Swerve got a feeling that you weren't even listening. Directing his optics to you he noticed how you had ceased trimming as well, the sharp scissors paused over one of the side branches. His optic ridges furrowed as he scanned your still form. You'd been acting really strange lately. Normally very open and comfortable around him, you had suddenly just seemed to close off. It worried Swerve greatly. Being one of the few bots on this ship he was sure of that considered him a friend, it was terrifying to think that you were finally tired of him. But that also wasn't like you. You were nice to everyone, albeit in a shy and respecting manner, but none the less still very kind!

"Hey, your joints rusted into place or somethin'?", Swerve chuckled, trying to seem as cool as possible.

When his cervo had just lightly graced over your shoulder plate, you jumped with a light gasp and cut off some of the bonsai leaves. It was a strange awkward cut, and Swerve quickly felt bad.

"O-oh, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't worry, it wasn't your fault. I should have been paying attention is all. . .," you quickly dismissed him with a reassuring smile.

What did he do to deserve someone like you? Swerve shook his helm to keep from daydreaming any further, and smiled wide when presenting the box in his cervos. Perhaps this will help lighten the mood.

"I got you a gift!", he announced proudly; gently handing the box over to you.

You gasped, optics going wide as you pulled out a tiny container," Swerve you didn't?! H-how did you even get this?!"

The small mech scratched the side of his blushing cheeks, watching you cutely examine the organic thing," What can I say?! Owning a bar you know how to get the hook ups!"

You chuckled, walking over to your desk with a smirk," What? Did you sell your chassis or something?"

"Pssh, they wish I offered it~!", Swerve gave a sharp grin and attempted a sexy pose, but ended up looking just ridiculous, causing you to giggle.

Joining your side at the desk, he rested on his bent elbows to watch you lightly and very gently squeeze the ball in a different cup. He watched the once clear water slowly start to turn a bit mucky; probably from the thing you carefully handled in your cervo.

"Sooooo. . .what is it?", he asked curiously.

"You mean to tell me you brought something on board and don't even know what it is? Does Rodimus or Ultra Magnus even know about it?", you questioned with a gaped mouth and slightly panicked expression.

The male bot just lazily waved his cervo," Eh, people bring stuff on the ship all the time and never tell them. . .its uh. . .its not dangerous is it?"

You giggled watching your small friend inch slightly away from the gift he got you," No, I was just messing with you. It's a Marimo ball, a form of algae; completely harmless!"

"A Marimo ball, huh?", Swerve mumbled, his gaze following the plant to its new little home.

"You're so amazing (y,n)."

You froze just before putting the creature into its new habitat. Sensing your hesitation, Swerve peered up to see your optics wide and focused in on nothing. His ridges quickly furrowed, and he stood straight with a concerned voice.

"(Y,n), what's wrong?"

Softly letting the ball slip from your metal fingers, your shoulders stiffened as those harmful insecurities returned.

"Am I really that amazing Swerve?", you enquired, your vocals slightly wavering.

Swerve leaned back some, confused and slightly put off by your question. "Well yeah, why do you ask?"

You clenched the edges of your desk, slightly shaking trying not to break down.

"Oh I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a cybernetic being who's profession is in a field around organics. Where has that ever played a role in our species history? How does that contribute or help out our species. We can't eat plants. We don't breath, and our means of medicine and curing illness are re wiring a few circuits. I-I don't fit in here. Not on this ship, and certainly not in the Cybertronian race! I'm hardly even smart or talented by Cybertronian standards. It took me forever just to understand your occupation Swerve! Could you imagine how long it would take me to understand or do something of Nautica's level?! I only know the science of botany; I'm a 'botanist'. What place does a botanist have in a machine oriented species?"

By this point, you were practically quivering on the very edge of having a break down. All of your insecurities just pushed through your built up wall and came floading out to your friend; more than likely your only friend you felt. And soon you began to feel embarrassed, but mostly guilty for just having dumped everything onto him. You felt even more anxiousness build up at the growing silence from his end, and you tried desperately to keep the panic from shouting through your running fans. He was most definitely annoyed now right? Since when have your problems ever meant or mattered to anyone else?

It was the complete opposite though. Swerve didn't feel that way at all; in fact he was on the verge of losing it himself. How long have you felt this way? How could he let it get this bad?! You were his friend, his crush! He should have noticed the signs as soon as you started to feel like this. As a very insecure bot himself, he didn't want anyone to feel the same way. You especially; the one person who actually cared for him and actually helped to make him feel more confident in himself, even if just by a little bit! Grabbing you firmly by the shoulders, Swerve moved you to face him, catching you off guard by the saddened, hurt look in his visor.

"(Y,n) don't you ever think that you don't belong. You are incredibly amazing, and what you do is just as incredible. Perhaps you have a hard time grasping something like quantum mechanics or metallurgist, but we all have trouble understanding some things. You may not know this, but the other day Nautica was telling me how amazing it was that you were able to grow something organic. She told me she tried it once and it just wasn't working out for her. And don't feel bad if you don't get or can do anything that would be considered normal in our race. Take a look at Rodimus; that guy thinks more than half of the sciences out there are some form of magical witchcraft!"

Swerve made a sigh, calming his tone and speed of talk before placing one of his red cervos on your cheek plate.

"My point is. . .you do belong (y,n). You do fit in. As a Cybertronian and a member of this ship. This space craft is made up of some of the strangest, and craziest bots you'll ever meet. We're all unique and our own, no one is one in the same. You helped me to not be so insecure, by teaching me that it's not always bad to be different. Different is good, and if we were all the same then life would just be so bland. I don't want you to ever feel like your alone (y,n). What you do is so special and unique to you. And if anyone wants to be a piece of scrap, just because you work with organic life, than frag them! I'll always be here with you, (y,n)! I'll always see you as someone special, and nothing less!"

"Swerve. . .", your optics darted across his face, taking note of every give away to his truthful emotions about you.

Seeing your optics filled with much surprise and perhaps a bit of shock, the bartender started to feel his spark clench. Oh no, did he say too much again? Did he talk more than he should have once more? He started to question of what he did helped at all or just upset you further, when two metal arms had wrapped around him and pulled him forward. Resting in the crook of your neck, Swerve felt his fans kick in and was left in a bit of a trance before quickly returning the embrace.

The botanical habsuit was left in silence save for the speakers that played over head. ‘Ain't No Mountain High Enough’ started to fade through, and you couldn't help but notice Swerves grip tighten ever so slightly. Of course, this was the song that kick started your close relationship. Swerve was getting ready to close up the bar one night when he noticed you humming it in the corner. Upon inquiring how you knew it with much excitement, you told him you'd picked up on a little bit of Earths culture when studying its plant life. From then on, he was constantly teaching you about all sorts of human pop culture, and in turn would listen to your fascination over the planets greenery. Now, you both sat in your habsuit, the same song that ultimately joined you together, while holding each other close with much care and support.

~xXx~

#mtmte swerve x reader #mtmte swerve #mtmte #transformers mtmte #x reader #reader insert #transformers x reader #cybertronian reader #fanfic #transformers fanfiction #story #botanist #botany #support #crush #i tried #imababblekat's writing

[surveysonfleek]

512.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 27

2501. What image, scent, memory, etc. would you take with you into the dark/light, the land of dead, heaven, infinity.....? my whole existence tbh. 2502. Who is the most annoying musical artist EVER? that catch me outside girl lol. 2503. If you HAD to go to one of the following concerts, which would it be: Snow Vanilla Ice NKOTB Milli Vanilli BSB <----- easily NSYNC 2504. Do you believe in manifest destiney? what?

2505. Have you ever fallen for an email forwarding hoax (send this to 13 people and old navy will send you a $200.00(100 pound) gift card)? Do you ever think 'well, maybe...' and actually forward those damn things? never. i haven’t forwarded a chain letter in years. 2506. Let's say there are 2 schools. one for boys and one for girls. They are both supposed to offer the same facilities so that the girls and boys get equal education. Would you take this to mean that the same courses should be offered to both girls and boys or that the same amount of money should be spent on each school? i’d take it as if they’re both being offered the same courses. Imagine that in the boys school fifteen boys sign up for calculus. In the girls school only five girls sign up for calculus. Should the girls calculus class be dissolved and replaced with an easier one? no. if they have the staff they should conduct them both. if not, they should combine them. 2507. Would it bother you if you found out that the fruits, vegetables, and meat that you eat is genetically altered (in lots of cases it is!)? i’d have to research it to understand. 2508. What does this world need? love. 2509. Is there anything you do just because you want to even though it has no redeeming social value? yup. like surveys lol. 2510. If you drink what kind of drunk are you? a loud one. 2511, Do you ever 'conveniently' forget something you don't want to remember? nope. 2512. If you have any cousins are you close? none of my cousins live close to me but we all get along really well when we’re together. 2513. Are you in love with yourself (your beautiful self)? haha no. 2514. What was the first movie you got on dvd? bug’s life i think. 2515. If you're sexy and you know it clap your hands. Did you clap? nope. 2516. have you ever called a: psychic hotline? suicide crisis line? sex line? dating line? none. 2517. Have you ever placed a personal ad anywhere? nope. 2518. Do guys look good in make up? some do, it all depends on skills. 2519. What are 5 things you don't care about? soccer, golf, working, drugs and my future lol. 2520. wHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO UNTIL YOU DIE? i don’t knowww. live. 2521. What 'issue' do you think your opinion is so right about that you end up trying to sway others to your point of view? i don’t try and sway people tbh. everyone is entitled to their own opinion. i hate it when people get all preachy to me. 2522. What age do you hope to live until? over 80. or at least to see my grandkids grow up. 2523. Do you like to tie others down during sex? nope. Have you ever been tied down? i don’t think so. 2524. Do you own any "toys"? no. Do you ever use them? no. 2525. Have you ever been spanked in that sexy way? maybe a couple times. it’s not a usual thing. Have you ever spanked anyone else? no. 2526. Do these questions make you uncomfortable? no. Do you like that feeling? what feeling? Does it turn you on? no. 2527. You know those ___ for dummies books (COMPTERS FOR DUMMIES, SURFING FOR DUMMIES, GOLDF FOR DUMMIES, WICCA FOR DUMMIES)? yes. Which one do you need to reaad? life for dummies lol. 2528. What do your socks look like? they’re mostly all black. 2529. Which of these really famous music artists started their career as a mime: Alice Cooper David Bowie Bruce Springsteen Moby Jewel Frank Zappa no idea. 2530. Does love float away if you let go? i don’t think so? it probably sinks lol. 2531. Do you think that most people in today's society are: kind? calm? humble? peaceful? helpful? happy? spiritual? creative? friendly? independant? intelligent? having fun? coming up with new ideas? no to all except this. able to think for themselves? able to really connect with others? If you answered no to any of the above, why do you think that is? the world sucks, let’s be real. there are some brilliant people out there but since the question said ‘most people’, it’s a hard no from me. 2532. Do you believe that every action has a sexual motive (think Freud)? nahhh. 2533. Speaking of Freud, did you know he was on drugs (think cocaine)? i don’t know enough about his life and studies. 2534. Do you trust psychology as a valid science? to an extent. can’t comment much since i don’t know enough abou tit. 2535. ID: In Freudian theory, the division of the psyche that is totally unconscious and serves as the source of instinctual impulses and demands for immediate satisfaction of primitive needs(sex, food, agressive behavior, drugs, alcohol, yelling, anger, fighting). SUPEREGO: In Freudian theory, the division of the unconscious that is formed through the internalization of moral standards of parents and society, and that censors and restrains the ego. So, which one do you express more, your ID or your SUPEREGO? idk. i’m too tired to think right now. 2536. Do you think that people who are alone and depressed are depressed because they are alone or alone because they are depressed? it can go both ways. 2537. Can you complete any of the following lyrics: I stop and I stare too much, afraid that I care too much... You're a new and better man, he helps youtounderstand,He does everything he can, he's.... Took the needles from my arms and put them to the sky... Top Gun shut down your Firm like Tom Cruise.... Don't you take it so hard now, And please don't take it so bad.... i don’t think i know any of these. 2538. How about these? From around the way, born in '73, Harcore B-boy named... And this feeling shivers down your spine, Love comes in colors I can't deny.... Before he hung up the phone he took a deep breath, stopped, and replied.... When I want you in my arms, when I want you and all your charms, whenever I want you all I have to do is... Silly games that you were playing, empty words we both were saying... 2539. Have you ever been to see a ballet? nope. 2540. What is the differance between Satan and Pan? i have no idea. 2541. What should a poem be or do if it is a sucessful poem? evoke thought or emotion. 2542. When you interpret a poem can each line mean anything you want it to? yes. 2543. Are you an orgasm addict? haha no. i love it but i wouldn’t say i’m an ‘addict’. 2544. Are you a sugar junkie? no. 2545. WHAT are you DOING? this. WHY aren't you marching in line with the rest of them? ooookay... 2546. Do you only hear what you want to? nope. 2547. Are you anal-retentive? i don’t think so. 2548. In and Out Over and Under Around and ??? about? lol. 2549. What was the last thing you returned to the store? a candle. 2550. Why ask why? why not? 2551. What is your favorite song or artist that is: jazz: metal: rock: new wave: psychedelic:  eh, idk for all. 2552. What are your feelings about: Picasso? love his style. Van Gogh? good paintings lol. Michaelangelo? incredible attention to detail. Da Vinci? cool. Einstein? smart. Tesla? cool cars lol. tbh i don’t know much about the inventor. 2553. Who else can you think of that made a MAJOR contribution to art or science? anyone and everyone who contributed to everything we have today. 2554. Who can you think of that made a major contribution to modern thought? idk. 2555. Why is it called 'coca cola'? no clue. 2556. Would you ever buy a Ford car? i used to have one. 2557. Donald or Daffy duck? donald. 2558. What is the most memorable thing about Pee-Wee Herman? never watched his stuff. 2559. Lease or buy a car? buy. 2560. Have you met Real Talkin' Bubba? no. Do you love him to death? - 2561. Have you ever been in a situation where you weren't sure if you were seducing or being seduced? nope. 2562. Can you 'pinch an inch' on your belly? yep lol. 2563. Have you ever been to: a temple? yes. a bar? yes. a massage parlor? yes. 2564. Would you ever want to visit Thailand? i wouldn’t mind it. 2565. What culture are you fascinated by? japanese. 2566. Have you ever worn a cape? probably. 2567. What is the difference between 'nude' and 'naked'? haha i’m not sure. 2568. What can you get for a dollar (.59 british pounds)? a soft serve from maccas. 2569. What makes you who you are? my dna. 2570. How do you search for meaning in life? idk. 2571. If your partner collected internet porn pics of celebs s/he thought was hot would that bother you? yeah, it would be kinda weird if he collected it. 2572. You are alone with your lover's diary. What do you do? flick through it hahaha. 2573. You read some and find out that a whhhiiillle back your lover had a crush on someone else, but you two were together. You both still hang out with this person. What do you do? question him to clear the air. 2574. Are you an old fart? no. 2575. What were your favorite things to do in the yard as a kid? ride my bike, pretend my yard was another world, play with a ball, jump rope etc. 2576. Why don't people have more fun? idk, maybe they have other things to worry about. 2577. Have you ever wanted to have a pet skinned and turned into an article of clothing? hell no. What pet? What article of clothing? 2578. Do I come off sounding normal, mildly irrational, blatently insane or completely certifiable? none lol. 2579. Did you ever feel that you were unable to function in society? not really. 2580. Is it nap time yet? very soon. 2581. Do you have to have the space next to the door or can you walk from the other end of the parking lot and still be okay with the world? let’s be real, the closer the parking spot to the entrance, the better. 2582. Do you like trains? i hate them. 2583. What's in Hungary? budapest. 2584. Have you ever felt like you were holding someone else back? no. Has someone ever held you back? kinda. 2585. What do you think of the term, 'organized religion'? nothing really. 2586. What do you think of the name 'Orson'? sounds very old timey. 2587. What frustrates you? people. 2588. Winkin, Blinkin and Nod, one night, sailed off in a sea of dew.. cool. 2589. Is ten dollars (5 pounds) a good price to pay for one lipstick? yes. Does anyone else remember when lipstick was, like, 2 or 3 bucks? no. 2590. Are you ill? no. 2591. Where were you the night of.....oh hell, last night? working. 2592. Do you pronounce the 'er' sound at the end of words(lookER or lookA)? the australian way. 2593. Do you drink only 100% juice? nope. 2594. Do you remember the bills you have to pay...or even yesterday? yes. 2595. What duck? donald. 2596. Do you collect coins? no. How about stamps? no. 2597. wHAT'S the best way to learn a new language? duolingo or a class. 2598. Is god in you? maybe. 2599. Are you in god? maybe. 2600. Do you know which fork to use at a formal table setting? the most outer fork first lol.

#survey #surveys #quiz #bored #questions

[imnotweird-imalimitededition]

Tag thing

I’ve been tagged by @supa-green-rabbit  It seems that I must answer these questions then create new ones and tag other people. ^___^

If you had to spend the rest of your life with only one person  (whether the relationship is platonic/romantic doesn’t matter) around, who would it be? My best friend from school :) The inevitable Zombie Apocalypse is upon us! Pick five fictional     characters for your team. Eh....  Kate Daniels/Curran/Derek/Julie (from the books by Ilona Andrews, any of them), Mercy Thompson (from the books by Patricia Briggs), Gandalf, Captain America, Sabriel (from the books by Garth Nix). 

Do you have a middle name?

Nope

What can you do today that you couldn’t do a year ago? Suture wounds

Have you ever broken a bone? Nope. 

When was the last time you got really really happy and why? My birthday. Normally everyone including me has exams, and this time was no different, but still we all got organized and could celebrate it for the first time in a few years. It was a good one :)

If you had to come up with ten words to describe your life story so far, what would they be? Books, exams, grades, anxiety, fear, therapy, swimming, manga, medicine, hospital.

What is the most beautiful sight you have ever seen? Anytime I’m diving in the summer and the water is clear, and the sun shines through the waves. Specially if there are fishes around.

If you had to lose one of the five senses, which would you choose and why? Taste. I think it’s not as important as sight, hearing, etc.

Do you have a talent you’re particularly proud of? I can be smart if I apply myself. 

Do you hold grudges? I try not to but I fail most of the time. Sometimes I think I’ve forgiven someone, and when they screw up again (even if it’s nothing important) I can’t help but think of their last screw-up and have a mental list of them.  AND NOW YOUR QUESTIONS : I can’t really think of any right now so I’ll do Datura’s ( @supa-green-rabbit)

Which movie has had the biggest (positive or negative) impact on you? Why?

The lord of the rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. I was young when it came out and it was my mom and mine’s favorite book ever. Seeing it on the screen together was magical in a way I can’t put into words. To this day I feel wonder every time I see it.

If you could have any song covered by any artist, which song would it be and who would cover it? ..... No idea. Honestly. 

You’ve been chosen to spend a year alone in a submarine studying ocean shit or in a spacecraft studying space shit. Which one do you choose and why? Ocean. Space is super cool, but i’m better at biology than physics.

If you could go back in time to ask one question to one person (someone famous, or someone you know, your choice), what would be the question and who would you ask it to? Rosalind Franklin. I wouldn’t ask her anything, just gaze in full admiration at her discoveries at a time when men did everything in their power to erase women’s contribution to science. (SHE SHOULD HAVE WON THAT NOBEL PRIZE TOO!!)

You can be send anywhere in the world to do one thing right now, at the exact moment you’re reading this. Where do you go? What will you do? Hobittown in New Zealand. I’d break into Bilbo’s house and have a hobbit breakfast.

What are your five favourite musical albums of all time?

I honestly don’t have any. I just listen to a lot of random songs for a few months, and then move on to new random songs for a few months. I can listen to a song and immediately identify the time of my life in which I used to listen to it and how I felt then.

You can go back in time and ask Michelangelo to paint or sculpt anything, knowing that the painting/sculpture will be as famous as the rest of his work. What do you ask him to paint/sculpt? 

..... no idea. A mountain?

Which song makes you feel the most sad? Happy? Sexy? Badass?

Please see two questions ago.

If you could create a huge charity organization, what would it be for? DNA in the context of cancer. How to identify mutations, prevent them, and avoid the creation of tumors and the spreading of metastatic cancers.

Who do you consider to be the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen? (other than people you know personally. It can be someone famous, or a random person in a picture you found online or something.) I once saw a pic in tumblr of a male asian model with eyes like a tiger’s and amazing facial bone structure. I didn’t save it, but he was beautiful.

What’s one thing you can absolutely not eat? Sardines.

I’ll tag @but-the-library-of-alexandria:) @kakikomi @phantasmadiangelo @palmtreeexpress @ljoongi and @questions-within-questions

:)

#personal post #chain #questions

[diariesofana]

Jan 18,2019 suicide

You know what’s the worst part of it all? It’s not the pain, it’s not the fact that I want to die.. it’s that I physically can’t do it. I can’t kill myself. I don’t want to live but the fear of attempting to commit suicide and failing to die then complications occurring instead. Or just failing and those around me know what i tried to do. I’ve gone through so much in my life a lot of mental abuse by literally everyone I love. I’ve had no structure in my and most of all, the majority of my life I grew up not knowing what love is. Till this day I don’t know what unconditional love feels like. The moment God sent me the purest form of unconditional love I killed it. I know my mom is right that i will amount to nothing. I can try so hard but in the end I am nothing. I see so many people become everything they wish and hoped for and here I am at 24 trying to learn things about life one should learn at 7. I try to love myself but how can i? When I’m being torn down by my own mother. And always have. I was physically abused by two older men. My family will never know about because they just know to throw it in my face later on.. what will my mom say? Oh.. “ you deserved that” yeah no, exactly those words. And then, she’ll also saying something along the lines of “you provoked it” sorry it’s not my fault that I, uncontrollably developed boobs at an uncomfortably young young age. Two men. Two different times. But, still had a huge impact in my development and life.

How about my entire life growing up with two parents that hate each other? I remember being 5 and my mom took a knife to my dad after throwing the coffee table across the room? She was pointing it to my dads stomach with the point of the knife actually touching his skin. I was fucking 5 years old. How about it being spring and seeing all the families outside together, how i longed for that. Somewhere along 10-now i lost the desire of having my family close and lost my values that were naturally instilled in me of being family oriented. Why would i be? When i will never have that. I tried again and quickly came to realize as much as i try and crave it, that is a battle i will lose. I am the only one in this family who still tries.. everyone is out living their own life separately. I hate it but, thats what i mean by no one truly loves me. How about the fact that I didn’t even have a relationship with my dad until I ran away. It took me running away st the age of 15 for my dad to realize hey maybe build a relationship with my daughter instead of being such a dick all the time. Before that, i would look st my dad and feel like i was living with a stranger. I didn’t know much about him other than he works and comes home to fight. I was scared of him.

Growing up i was constantly put down. No shock as to why I don’t have any self esteem. But it’s blamed on me not on the people who shot it down to the ground. No, it’ll never be my moms fault. She didn’t call me ugly fat and worthless starting st the age of 7, maybe even before who knows but my (according to her) indent stupid brain can’t recall. I had an eating disorder because of her calling me fat and constantly comparing me to others. Did you know she compared me to an actress that was 25 years old? Thalia while i was 7-10. I felt shitty about myself because i didn’t look like her. My body was not shaped like hers (obviously i am 10 years old!!!!!!) so i developed anoerxia nervosa later on to bulimia. Of course though, she doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know how her words affected me so deeply and until this day. But it wasn’t only her. My whole school called me every white slut smut name in the book and not only my school, but my dad too. Imagine, the person who is supposed to uplift you and wipe tears away from your face because you’re getting bullied is only contributing to the pain? Now, i knew i wasn’t a slut so what those kids had to say didn’t really affect me.... because let’s be serious i was being called much worse st home but, what when my own father called me that which such disgust too, it fucked me up. I have never been the smart girl, the funny girl, the cool girl. I’ve only been the sexy slutty one.

To all the boys I’ve loved. You contributed to all my traumas and then, created new ones. Miguel, you mentally abused me.. but what was new because I’m used to it right? My whole life. Wrong. It’s different because to some extent I thought love still existed and i would find it in a man since i could not at home. Only to my surprise, again like i always am in my life I was wrong. But the pain and traumas he caused are minute compared to everything I endured during my 6 year relationship with Zaire. Only adding on to my insecurities. I do want to add none of these men are responsible for adding on or creating traumas because, they didn’t know my past. He made me feel dumb, boring, not good enough, that if i got fat he wouldn’t be sexually attracted to me anymore. His words not mine. I also traveled down memory lane to bulimia on that one. He was confused about his feelings towards me and if he wanted to be with me.. which made me spiral out of control because yet again, unstable love. I’ve never had someone stable in my life with their feelings. Not even my dad. I hit the lowest of rock bottoms i had anxiety 24/7 i started self medicating to numb the pain.. no LITERSLLY NUMB THE PAIN. How does one do that for hours st a time? I took sleeping medicine to sleep through the pain only no, because i would have nightmares about it. But still it was fictional and st the end of the day id rather sleep and go through that than be up tempted to text/call or lurk on ig only to find out yes being thirsty for Jasmine. It worked until i would wake up with my heart racing a million miles an hour and it would all hit me, all the anxiety i slept through would hit me as soon as a woke up. Like roll over anxiety.oop bitch you didn’t use up all your minutes during this time but don’t worry we will roll over all the pain anxiety and sadness so you get it all st once as soon as you wake up :) what a tough two and a half years to be with someone that doesn’t love you. Life is great but it gets better. 3 years later god sends you a gift from heaven and both or you guys decide to kill it. Kill an innocent human being, a baby. Because he never loved you or his future child enough to go through with it.

Pregnancy - wow. The second hardest thing I’ve had to go through. Trust me when i say during this time you want to be with someone who truly loves you because it is such a vulnerably time in a women’s life. It’s a beautiful chapter if gone through with the correct person. Sadly, of course i chose the wrong one or should i say, god had a different plan for me because i did not chose to get pregnant that day. Morning sickness is horrible and the lack of energy was brutal. The back pain was on another level. But what was the worst part of it all was the half ass boyfriend i had. No support. No love. No patience. You know what takes place for the first hardest thing I’ve gone through in my life? Abortion. It’s not what people make it seem online, it’s worse. No one goes into detail about abortion and it start from the proper counseling. I get it, i don’t solely blame them because st the end of the day they have x amount of girls a day and most of them have made up their mind about getting the procedure done, also what more can they do if they ask if you’re sure and you say yes? Not much more, but i wish more women would share their stories before during and after. I was lucky enough to document my emotions the day before after and during. The physiological affects it has on you takes a huge toll on your will to live. Regret is my sidekick. Itlll always be there with me. The physical affects are worse too. Omg the sharp pains from where they scraped you’re uterus... a constant reminder of your regret let me tell you. Even months later almost a year i still sometimes feel those scrapes. I don’t even want it to go away though because i will hold on to any reminder of what used to be. That fucked my entire life up. A decision a man made.

Now, i don’t believe in love. I don’t believe they there is someone out there who will love me for me nor do i want it. I am so fearful of ever loving someone again that i just push everyone away. Imagine me going through another guy fake love me again. Love comes in different many forms but, i chose to love things that will never leave me. Things that can’t reciprocate love back. I am so tired of living my life in hostile negative regretful environments but i have tethered those emotions in my heart and mind. It’s made me stronger but in the name of pain? In the name of trauma? In the new of never being able to truly love yourself to its full capacity or even a capacity that you are able to feel confidence? Moving out and starting my life fresh new with different people will be the only way. Yes, finally running away from my problems. Family doesn’t aleahs equal blood sadly i have finally came to terms with that.

God, there’s nothing in this world that i want wore than to see my baby again. To meet with him/her and to explain my decision. To be with him/her that’s all i want. I know the price i have to pay on their earth for making that decision is going to be a cruel punishment i have to fully go through. But emotionally i give up and physically too. God i just ask that tonight instead of taking a life away of someone who will truly be missed or who is accomplishing something or will in the future.. someone who had a life full of love, take mine instead. Please.

[surveystodestressme]

107.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 27

2501. What image, scent, memory, etc. would you take with you into the dark/light, the land of dead, heaven, infinity…..?

everything?

2502. Who is the most annoying musical artist EVER?

most rapper, in my opinion.  or scream-o artists

2503. If you HAD to go to one of the following concerts, which would it be:

Snow

Vanilla Ice

NKOTB

Milli Vanilli

BSB <—– this one

NSYNC

2504. Do you believe in manifest destiny?

yeah

2505. Have you ever fallen for an email forwarding hoax (send this to 13 people and old navy will send you a $200.00(100 pound) gift card)? Do you ever think ‘well, maybe…’ and actually forward those damn things?

never. i

2506. Let’s say there are 2 schools. one for boys and one for girls. They are both supposed to offer the same facilities so that the girls and boys get equal education. Would you take this to mean that the same courses should be offered to both girls and boys or that the same amount of money should be spent on each school?

the same courses are being offered but i feel like in turn that means that the same amount of money should be spent on both schools

Imagine that in the boys school fifteen boys sign up for calculus. In the girls school only five girls sign up for calculus. Should the girls calculus class be dissolved and replaced with an easier one?

no. they should just do the class with 5 girls in it.  a class does not need a whole bunch of people in order for it to run properly

2507. Would it bother you if you found out that the fruits, vegetables, and meat that you eat is genetically altered (in lots of cases it is!)?

i mean, it already is so i don’t really have much of a choice lol

2508. What does this world need?

peace

2509. Is there anything you do just because you want to even though it has no redeeming social value?

yup.

2510. If you drink what kind of drunk are you?

an affectionate and talkative one

2511, Do you ever 'conveniently’ forget something you don’t want to remember?

nope.

2512. If you have any cousins are you close?

i’m not close with any of them honestly

2513. Are you in love with yourself (your beautiful self)?

for the most part, yeah

2514. What was the first movie you got on dvd?

oh damn, i don’t even know

2515. If you’re sexy and you know it clap your hands. Did you clap?

yeah lol

2516. have you ever called a:

psychic hotline?

suicide crisis line?

sex line?

dating line? none.

2517. Have you ever placed a personal ad anywhere?

nope.

2518. Do guys look good in make up?

hell yeah they do.  everyone does

2519. What are 5 things you don’t care about?

wrestling, politics, history, my next door neighbor, and th weather

2520. wHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO UNTIL YOU DIE?

live

2521. What 'issue’ do you think your opinion is so right about that you end up trying to sway others to your point of view?

i mean i don’t want to sway people to believe my opinion is the right one because no ones opinion is right that’s why it’s considered an opinion.  however, i am very adamant about declawing cats.  i would never declaw my cats because i have seen one up close and actually experienced and done intensive research and know the bad things that can come along with it.

2522. What age do you hope to live until?

at least 100

2523. Do you like to tie others down during sex?

no, i like to be tied down.  but if my boyfriend asked to tie him down... i wouldn’t refuse

Have you ever been tied down?

yes

2524. Do you own any “toys”?

no.

Do you ever use them?

-

2525. Have you ever been spanked in that sexy way?

yes, i actually just asked to be whipped with a belt the other day

Have you ever spanked anyone else?

not sexually, just for fun

2526. Do these questions make you uncomfortable?

no.

Do you like that feeling?

huh?

Does it turn you on?

no.

2527. You know those ___ for dummies books (COMPTERS FOR DUMMIES, SURFING FOR DUMMIES, GOLDF FOR DUMMIES, WICCA FOR DUMMIES)?

yes.

Which one do you need to read?

computers, history, lots of other things

2528. What do your socks look like?

puma socks just plain

2529. Which of these really famous music artists started their career as a mime:

Alice Cooper

David Bowie

Bruce Springsteen

Moby

Jewel

Frank Zappa i have no idea

2530. Does love float away if you let go?

nah

2531. Do you think that most people in today’s society are:

kind? no

calm? no

humble? no

peaceful? no

helpful? no

happy? no

spiritual? somewhat

creative? no

friendly? no

independent? somewhat

intelligent? no

having fun? yes

coming up with new ideas? yes

able to think for themselves? not really

able to really connect with others? sometimes

If you answered no to any of the above, why do you think that is?

people are just horrible nowadays.  honestly, most people only care for themselves and aren’t worried about anyone or anything else. 

2532. Do you believe that every action has a sexual motive (think Freud)?

not at all

2533. Speaking of Freud, did you know he was on drugs (think cocaine)?

i think i heard something about him being drugs but i can’t say whether that’s true or not

2534. Do you trust psychology as a valid science?

for the most part, yeah

2535. ID: In Freudian theory, the division of the psyche that is totally unconscious and serves as the source of instinctual impulses and demands for immediate satisfaction of primitive needs(sex, food, aggressive behavior, drugs, alcohol, yelling, anger, fighting).

SUPEREGO: In Freudian theory, the division of the unconscious that is formed through the internalization of moral standards of parents and society, and that censors and restrains the ego.

So, which one do you express more, your ID or your SUPEREGO?

probably more ID

2536. Do you think that people who are alone and depressed are depressed because they are alone or alone because they are depressed?

it can go both ways, i think

2537. Can you complete any of the following lyrics:

I stop and I stare too much, afraid that I care too much…

You’re a new and better man, he helps you to understand, He does everything he can, he’s….

Took the needles from my arms and put them to the sky…

Top Gun shut down your Firm like Tom Cruise….

Don’t you take it so hard now, And please don’t take it so bad….

i don’t know any of these

2538. How about these?

From around the way, born in '73, Harcore B-boy named…

And this feeling shivers down your spine, Love comes in colors I can’t deny….

Before he hung up the phone he took a deep breath, stopped, and replied….

When I want you in my arms, when I want you and all your charms, whenever I want you all I have to do is…

Silly games that you were playing, empty words we both were saying…

nope

2539. Have you ever been to see a ballet?

yes

2540. What is the difference between Satan and Pan?

who is pan?  peter pan?

2541. What should a poem be or do if it is a successful poem?

give a sense of imagery and make you think and feel something

2542. When you interpret a poem can each line mean anything you want it to?

absolutely

2543. Are you an orgasm addict?

well i like having them but i’m not addicted to them lol

2544. Are you a sugar junkie?

i don’t really like sugary things actually

2545. WHAT are you DOING?

this.

WHY aren’t you marching in line with the rest of them?

????

2546. Do you only hear what you want to?

nah

2547. Are you anal-retentive?

huh?

2548. In and Out

Over and Under

Around and ???

what?

2549. What was the last thing you returned to the store?

i’m going to return a septum rings today or tomorrow

2550. Why ask why?

why not?

2551. What is your favorite song or artist that is:

jazz:

metal: alice in chains

rock: ac/dc

new wave:

psychedelic:  bob marley

2552. What are your feelings about:

Picasso? does some really creative, cool artwork

Van Gogh? incredible.  i love the way he paints, he has a very different style than most artists i’ve seen

Michaelangelo? very good details

Da Vinci? also very good artist

Einstein? very freaking smart guy

Tesla? very fast and very expensive cars

2553. Who else can you think of that made a MAJOR contribution to art or science?

there’s so many people

2554. Who can you think of that made a major contribution to modern thought?

idk

2555. Why is it called 'coca cola’?

no clue.

2556. Would you ever buy a Ford car?

probably not

2557. Donald or Daffy duck?

donald.

2558. What is the most memorable thing about Pee-Wee Herman?

i don’t know

2559. Lease or buy a car?

buy.

2560. Have you met Real Talkin’ Bubba?

no.

Do you love him to death?

-

2561. Have you ever been in a situation where you weren’t sure if you were seducing or being seduced?

nope.

2562. Can you 'pinch an inch’ on your belly?

yeahhh

2563. Have you ever been to:

a temple? there’s actually one by my house

a bar? plenty

a massage parlor? yes.

2564. Would you ever want to visit Thailand?

i wouldn’t mind it.

2565. What culture are you fascinated by?

all of them

2566. Have you ever worn a cape?

not that i can remember

2567. What is the difference between 'nude’ and 'naked’?

nude sounds classier

2568. What can you get for a dollar (.59 british pounds)?

a pack of gum maybe

2569. What makes you who you are?

my genes

2570. How do you search for meaning in life?

try really hard

2571. If your partner collected internet porn pics of celebs s/he thought was hot would that bother you?

i mean, it’d be weird if he collected it, but i wouldn’t mind if he just looked

2572. You are alone with your lover’s diary. What do you do?

jack wouldn’t every keep a diary lol

2573. You read some and find out that a whhhiiillle back your lover had a crush on someone else, but you two were together. You both still hang out with this person. What do you do?

fuck him up.  lol jk, i’d talk to him about it

2574. Are you an old fart?

i feel like it sometimes

2575. What were your favorite things to do in the yard as a kid?

play in the grass, have friends over, play with the dog

2576. Why don’t people have more fun?

they’re probably too stuck up their own ass

2577. Have you ever wanted to have a pet skinned and turned into an article of clothing?

wtf? no

What pet?

What article of clothing?

2578. Do I come off sounding normal, mildly irrational, blatantly insane or completely certifiable?

insane

2579. Did you ever feel that you were unable to function in society?

i used to

2580. Is it nap time yet?

very soon.

2581. Do you have to have the space next to the door or can you walk from the other end of the parking lot and still be okay with the world?

i need to be as close as possible

2582. Do you like trains?

i don’t mind them

2583. What’s in Hungary?

hungry people haha

2584. Have you ever felt like you were holding someone else back?

oh yeah

Has someone ever held you back?

yup

2585. What do you think of the term, 'organized religion’?

i don’t really care

2586. What do you think of the name 'Orson’?

sounds different

2587. What frustrates you?

people.

2588. Winkin, Blinkin and Nod, one night, sailed off in a sea of dew..

cool.

2589. Is ten dollars (5 pounds) a good price to pay for one lipstick?

sure, i have no idea honestly

Does anyone else remember when lipstick was, like, 2 or 3 bucks?

some still is $2

2590. Are you ill?

no.

2591. Where were you the night of…..oh hell, last night?

at my house

2592. Do you pronounce the 'er’ sound at the end of words(lookER or lookA)?

ER

2593. Do you drink only 100% juice?

nada

2594. Do you remember the bills you have to pay…or even yesterday?

yes.

2595. What duck?

donald.

2596. Do you collect coins?

no.

How about stamps?

no.

2597. wHAT’S the best way to learn a new language?

taking a class

2598. Is god in you?

doubt it

2599. Are you in god?

^

2600. Do you know which fork to use at a formal table setting?

no idea lol.  whichever fork i grab first

#bored #survey #quiz #questions

[melaniesmumbles]

Chicks Love Not Being Touched by Human Garbage

Whelp, it’s about that time again. I wrote another rebuttal to some idiot on TotalFratMove.com. Below is his article as well as my response. Enjoy my anger.

Chicks Love Elevated Surfaces

By: The Lemon Pledge (his contributor name on TFM)

I believe it was Socrates who once said “bitches love elevated surfaces,” but I can’t find a source for that. The man was right. If there’s one thing these sorority girls love more than not coming home with me, it’s standing on a platform of some kind and hoping they don’t fall off. Which they inevitably will do.

Drunk girls need elevated surfaces to feel important, to stand out. Who’s going to see them in a flock of forty dudes after they obviously spent three hours doing their makeup just to have it wash away when they cry over spilled pizza? Whether it be heels, stages, tables, or keg-stands, girls just wanna have fun.

Through my research into why this might be the case, I’ve concluded that there are two very specific types of girls who are magnetically drawn to party above the rest of us, and they couldn’t be more polar opposite.

“Leave Me Alone” Girls

They just walked into the party 10 minutes ago and have already gotten borderline sexually harassed enough times to call it quits on the male species for the night, so they meet up with their other hot friends to hop up on the stage and ignore everyone around them.

They’re probably not dancing because they’re too cool for that, but they’re also not really drinking or socializing either so you’re not even sure why these girls are here at this point. You’ve already lost your chance to approach from your now low ground position of inferiority, so you’ll just gaze across the room every few minutes telling yourself your time will come.

Regardless, she’ll make a beeline for the door soon enough, killing your dreams, and making way for round two of stage clinging girls in the process.

“Look at Me” Girls

As the party gets into full swing and reaches the ’90s bangers section of the playlist, these girls will quickly make their way to the elevated surface that has been graciously vacated by every girl at the party you actually cared about. These girls need the stage, because face it, the night probably didn’t go their way.

They’ve already drowned their sorrows in jungle juice and regained the confidence to go dance like Carlton in front of the whole party, like a female peacock desperately craving attention as the males realize that mating season is probably over. The stage makes these girls feel important, and that’s really all they want in life is validation.

Speaking of validation, there’s technically a third class of girls who love elevated surfaces: girls with daddy issues. But they’re called strippers and that’s for another day.

Chicks Love Not Being Touched By Human Garbage: A Rebuttal to Chicks Love Elevated Surfaces

By: Mel Jones

             I believe it was Nietzsche who said, “Why did I just waste brain cells by reading that?” No wait, that was me after reading this article. You can’t find a source? I’m surprised you can even find your own asshole, but I suppose when your head is stuck so far up your own ass, it’s hard to miss. You know what “bitches” really love? – When they are recognized as individuals with different tastes and desires, and lastly, when they aren’t called bitches by a self-involved dummy with a laptop. I know, it’s cray.

           If women need to stand on elevated surfaces to feel important, does that mean you need to write bullshit articles that degrade women to make you feel important? I’m assuming you were drunk while you wrote this, otherwise what’s your excuse?

           So, let’s dive into what you refer to as the two types of women (not bitches) who dance on elevated surfaces, and we can explore how problematic your explanations are and how your psyche contributes to rape culture.

           First you refer to, “Leave Me Alone” girls. You say that they’ve been borderline sexually harassed multiple times after being at an event for only 10 minutes. Saying borderline sexually harassed is like saying I borderline stabbed you because you’re only bleeding a little. If a guy says something inappropriate to a woman, or grabs on her, that’s full blown sexual harassment. End of story. It’s not a compliment, and it’s not flattering, it’s invasive and violates a woman. For you to later refer to her dancing above everyone because she’s too cool after you’ve acknowledged that she’s trying to escape being harassed is disgusting.

           If only your dick had the girth of your thick skull.

           A woman who did her makeup and dressed sexy to go to an event owes you nothing. Not a dance. Not a handshake. Not even a smile. Just because she doesn’t want to dance with you or bang you doesn’t make her a tease or full of herself. It does, however, make you insecure and apparently inspired you to write the poorly worded article you’ve submitted to TFM, and then pat yourself on your probably narrow shoulders for it. In short, get over yourself.

           There’s a fallacy that exists among men, which is that only other men sexually harass women. They believe they are different, that their specific action was just a joke, or because they think they are attractive that a woman welcomes their touch. You are not different. You are the man that a woman doesn’t want to be touched by; look in the mirror every morning and repeat that to yourself like a mantra.

           The second group of women you refer to are the “Look at Me” girls. You suggest women that fall into this category are ones who want to be noticed because they need a confidence booster and are desperate for attention, but to the men “mating season” is over. Your hypocrisy is so overwhelming that if it was a smell, it’d be fresh dog shit.

           So the women who want attention are desperate, and the ones who don’t want attention think they are too cool? You have some major psychological issues if those are the two categories women fall under in your head because they dance on a stage. Do you have a seizure at a Britney Spears’ concert?

           This categorization of women says more about your lack of maturity and the way you see women than it does about actual women. And yes, females in college are women.

AND ALSO HOLY FUCK. A woman dancing on an elevated platform doesn’t mean she’s looking to fuck or not be fucked. JESUS. She can want to dance on a stage for a thousand reasons, and all thousand of them have nothing to do with you or where you want to stick your penis.

           Do men really think every decision a woman makes is about how fuckable she will appear to men? Spare me the answer to this.

           You end your essay by referring to women with daddy issues and say those women are called strippers. I can only imagine your shit-eating grin when you came up with that, but it’s so unoriginal that Nicholas Cage may as well star in it.

           So, to wrap this up in a neat summary, the only stages you need to worry about are your stages of grief after a smart woman turns you down.

           And, by the way, the Ninja Turtles cry over spilled pizza, and they’re fucking super heroes.

#sexualharassment #men are garbage #metoo