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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months

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Google reneged on the monopolistic bargain

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and TOMORROW in SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

A funny thing happened on the way to the enshittocene: Google – which astonished the world when it reinvented search, blowing Altavista and Yahoo out of the water with a search tool that seemed magic – suddenly turned into a pile of shit.

Google's search results are terrible. The top of the page is dominated by spam, scams, and ads. A surprising number of those ads are scams. Sometimes, these are high-stakes scams played out by well-resourced adversaries who stand to make a fortune by tricking Google:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/phone-numbers-airlines-listed-google-directed-scammers-rcna94766

But often these scams are perpetrated by petty grifters who are making a couple bucks at this. These aren't hyper-resourced, sophisticated attackers. They're the SEO equivalent of script kiddies, and they're running circles around Google:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Google search is empirically worsening. The SEO industry spends every hour that god sends trying to figure out how to sleaze their way to the top of the search results, and even if Google defeats 99% of these attempts, the 1% that squeak through end up dominating the results page for any consequential query:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

Google insists that this isn't true, and if it is true, it's not their fault because the bad guys out there are so numerous, dedicated and inventive that Google can't help but be overwhelmed by them:

https://searchengineland.com/is-google-search-getting-worse-389658

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Google has long maintained that its scale is the only thing that keeps us safe from the scammers and spammers who would otherwise overwhelm any lesser-resourced defender. That's why it was so imperative that they pursue such aggressive growth, buying up hundreds of companies and integrating their products with search so that every mobile device, every ad, every video, every website, had one of Google's tendrils in it.

This is the argument that Google's defenders have put forward in their messaging on the long-overdue antitrust case against Google, where we learned that Google is spending $26b/year to make sure you never try another search engine:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-10-27/google-paid-26-3-billion-to-be-default-search-engine-in-2021

Google, we were told, had achieved such intense scale that the normal laws of commercial and technological physics no longer applied. Take security: it's an iron law that "there is no security in obscurity." A system that is only secure when its adversaries don't understand how it works is not a secure system. As Bruce Schneier says, "anyone can design a security system that they themselves can't break. That doesn't mean it works – just that it works for people stupider than them."

And yet, Google operates one of the world's most consequential security system – The Algorithm (TM) – in total secrecy. We're not allowed to know how Google's ranking system works, what its criteria are, or even when it changes: "If we told you that, the spammers would win."

Well, they kept it a secret, and the spammers won anyway.

A viral post by Housefresh – who review air purifiers – describes how Google's algorithmic failures, which send the worst sites to the top of the heap, have made it impossible for high-quality review sites to compete:

https://housefresh.com/david-vs-digital-goliaths/

You've doubtless encountered these bad review sites. Search for "Best ______ 2024" and the results are a series of near-identical lists, strewn with Amazon affiliate links. Google has endlessly tinkered with its guidelines and algorithmic weights for review sites, and none of it has made a difference. For example, when Google instituted a policy that reviewers should "discuss the benefits and drawbacks of something, based on your own original research," sites that had previously regurgitated the same lists of the same top ten Amazon bestsellers "peppered their pages with references to a ‘rigorous testing process,’ their ‘lab team,’ subject matter experts ‘they collaborated with,’ and complicated methodologies that seem impressive at a cursory look."

But these grandiose claims – like the 67 air purifiers supposedly tested in Better Homes and Gardens's Des Moines lab – result in zero in-depth reviews and no published data. Moreover, these claims to rigorous testing materialized within a few days of Google changing its search ranking and said that high rankings would be reserved for sites that did testing.

Most damning of all is how the Better Homes and Gardens top air purifiers perform in comparison to the – extensively documented – tests performed by Housefresh: "plagued by high-priced and underperforming units, Amazon bestsellers with dubious origins (that also underperform), and even subpar devices from companies that market their products with phrases like ‘the Tesla of air purifiers.’"

One of the top ranked items on BH&G comes from Molekule, a company that filed for bankruptcy after being sued for false advertising. The model BH&G chose was ranked "the worst air purifier tested" by Wirecutter and "not living up to the hype" by Consumer Reports. Either BH&G's rigorous testing process is a fiction that they infused their site with in response to a Google policy change, or BH&G absolutely sucks at rigorous testing.

BH&G's competitors commit the same sins – literally, the exact same sins. Real Simple's reviews list the same photographer and the photos seem to have been taken in the same place. They also list the same person as their "expert." Real Simple has the same corporate parent as BH&G: Dotdash Meredith. As Housefresh shows, there's a lot of Dotdash Meredith review photos that seem to have been taken in the same place, by the same person.

But the competitors of these magazines are no better. Buzzfeed lists 22 air purifiers, including that crapgadget from Molekule. Their "methodology" is to include screenshots of Amazon reviews.

A lot of the top ranked sites for air purifiers are once-great magazines that have been bought and enshittified by private equity giants, like Popular Science, which began as a magazine in 1872 and became a shambling zombie in 2023, after its PE owners North Equity LLC decided its googlejuice was worth more than its integrity and turned it into a metastatic chumbox of shitty affiliate-link SEO-bait. As Housefresh points out, the marketing team that runs PopSci makes a lot of hay out of the 150 years of trust that went into the magazine, but the actual reviews are thin anaecdotes, unbacked by even the pretense of empiricism (oh, and they loooove Molekule).

Some of the biggest, most powerful, most trusted publications in the world have a side-hustle in quietly producing SEO-friendly "10 Best ___________ of 2024" lists: Rolling Stone, Forbes, US News and Report, CNN, New York Magazine, CNN, CNET, Tom's Guide, and more.

Google literally has one job: to detect this kind of thing and crush it. The deal we made with Google was, "You monopolize search and use your monopoly rents to ensure that we never, ever try another search engine. In return, you will somehow distinguish between low-effort, useless nonsense and good information. You promised us that if you got to be the unelected, permanent overlord of all information access, you would 'organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful.'"

They broke the deal.

Companies like CNET used to do real, rigorous product reviews. As Housefresh points out, CNET once bought an entire smart home and used it to test products. Then Red Ventures bought CNET and bet that they could sell the house, switch to vibes-based reviewing, and that Google wouldn't even notice. They were right.

https://www.cnet.com/home/smart-home/welcome-to-the-cnet-smart-home/

Google downranks sites that spend money and time on reviews like Housefresh and GearLab, and crams botshittened content mills like BH&G into our eyeballs instead.

In 1558, Thomas Gresham coined (ahem) Gresham's Law: "Bad money drives out good." When counterfeit money circulates in the economy, anyone who gets a dodgy coin spends it as quickly as they can, because the longer you hold it, the greater the likelihood that someone will detect the fraud and the coin will become worthless. Run this system long enough and all the money in circulation is funny money.

An internet run by Google has its own Gresham's Law: bad sites drive out good. It's not just that BH&G can "test" products at a fraction of the cost of Housefresh – through the simple expedient of doing inadequate tests or no tests at all – so they can put a lot more content up that Housefresh. But that alone wouldn't let them drive Housefresh off the front page of Google's search results. For that, BH&G has to mobilize some of their savings from the no test/bad test lab to do real rigorous science: science in defeating Google's security-through-obscurity system, which lets them command the front page despite publishing worse-than-useless nonsense.

Google has lost the spam wars. In response to the plague of botshit clogging Google search results, the company has invested in…making more botshit:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/16/tweedledumber/#easily-spooked

Last year, Google did a $70b stock buyback. They also laid off 12,000 staffers (whose salaries could have been funded for 27 years by that stock buyback). They just laid off thousands more employees.

That wasn't the deal. The deal was that Google would get a monopoly, and they would spend their monopoly rents to be so good that you could just click "I'm feeling lucky" and be teleported to the very best response to your query. A company that can't figure out the difference between a scam like Better Homes and Gardens and a rigorous review site like Housefresh should be pouring every spare dime it brings in into fixing this problem. Not buying default search status on every platform so that we never try another search engine: they should be fixing their shit.

When Google admits that it's losing the war to these kack-handed spam-farmers, that's frustrating. When they light $26b/year on fire making sure you don't ever get to try anything else, that's very frustrating. When they vaporize seventy billion dollars on financial engineering and shoot one in ten engineers, that's outrageous.

Google's scale has transcended the laws of business physics: they can sell an ever-degrading product and command an ever-greater share of our economy, even as their incompetence dooms any decent, honest venture to obscurity while providing fertile ground – and endless temptation – for scammers.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

#pluralistic #monopoly #seo #dark seo #google #search #enshittification #platform decay #product reviews #spam #antitrust #trustbusting

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mindfulstudyquest · 28 days

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆

organization: i know it's the most trivial advice in the world, but i swear it works. before doing anything, i take my planner and review everything i have to do, i divide the study by subject, amount of things to study and review spaces for exams. realistically, you can't expect to do it all in one day, but a good plan could almost allow you to sleep at night!

a clean workspace: i can't fucking concentrate if there's a mess aroud me, i get distracted easily, even by dust, so before i start studying i always deep-clean my desk. i know that not everyone can afford a personal and quiet place to study in their houses, so try to find yourself a small angle where you can really focus.

go to study in a library / café: i didn't believe it at first, but it's actually useful. if you have the opportunity to go to a library or a café after school ( or near your house ) do so. being surrounded by people who are studying like you really helps to focus, you'll be less inclined to get distracted and procastinate. i would feel uncomfortable using my phone in a library with other people who are doing their work while i'm sitting there scrolling on tumblr.

breaks: ik ik, not very blair waldrof, hermione granger, spencer hastings, rory gilmore of me, isn't it? but is it worth it. sometimes i end up having really bad headaches from studying and, even if i keep studying, the quality of my work decreases significantly. breaks are fundamental. i would not recommend using social networks for your beak, because they litteraly drain your attention, rather do your skincare, prepare yourself a snack ( eating is important! it's what makes you focus ), read 10 pages of your book, dance a little bit in your room, do stretching, go outside and buy some mint chewingum, something like that.

EAT!: girls, boys and theys, we know. i honestly think that almost every person that craves academic validation ends up developing a sort of eating disorder. it's not even the food, is the fact that you are too busy studying that you forget to eat, ignoring stomach cramps, or the fact that you didn't get that answer right and now you don't feel like you deserve the lunch. i understand bc i AM like this, like you. but think about it: you need to do it in order to survive ( but this is secondary to the grades, right? ) and to keep your brain active. you can't walk around with blurred vision because you haven't eaten or drunk for fourteen continuous hours. i swear that eating like a normal human being helps you to keep going.

sleep: same thing as eating, but with our terrible sleeping schedules. i know that school is toxic so we end up finishing our homeworks at 2 am everyday ( if we're lucky ) but when you have the chance, take a nap and recover.

repeat things as if you were explaining them to someone: this is litterally the fastest way ever to learn fundamental concepts when you're studying. imagine that you're talking to a friend that doesn't know anything about the subject that you're studying and try to explain the topic to them. finding simple words for a difficult topic will help you understand it thoroughly, on this basis you can then build an articulated and more academic speech. repeat things out loud, doesn't matter if you look crazy, you already are <3

check and organize your notes the same day: i never have time to take proper notes in class, so i review them as soon as possible, with the lesson still fresh in mind. it really helps me understand the subject and makes the further study much easier.

watch youtube videos: youtube is my favourite class. sometimes teachers are dumber than students and you, who don't have a degree in that subject and are tackling a topic for the first time, don't understand a damn thing. ofc not!! sometimes professors are terrible at explaining stuff, but fazal from pakistan isn't. i passed my physics class with a 10/10 thanks to an indian guy on youtube. documentaries and yt videos are a simple and nice way to understand better topics and do insights for extra credits.

delete social media: i'm gonna do another post specifically for this.

"STUDY!" wallpaper: last but not least, the dumbest yet the smartest advice, set as lockscreen a white / black / whatever background with a big fat "STUDY!" written on it. everytime you're about to pick up your phone and procastinate the wallpaper will scold you.

hope this was useful or at least fun to read byee

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aherdofbees · 5 months

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1/1,000-ish scale miniature St. Patricks made out of paper, foam, LEDs, and a lot of patience.

My phone takes terrible quality video, but you get the point.

#I'm so excited to finally share this!#it started off with a bath and body works candle holder and turned into *this*#midnight mass #miniature #crockett island #sculpture #mike flanagan #fan art

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oatmealmika · 9 months

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What Are They Like On Social Media (Headcanons)?

feat. luffy, zoro, nami, sanji, usopp, robin, franky, and brook

requests open for other things like this!

Luffy

nami made him make an Instagram account and he did so... BUT NOT WITHOUT DOWNLOADING 8 VIRUSES THE MOMENT HE GOT ONTO IT

he started clinking on every ad he saw, of course, and now he's got to pay 100000 dollars by the end of the month or else world government will find him.

he took that as a challenge.

basic, but his username is kingofthepirates or strawhat69 or something

maybe even a pun or some shit bro

follows anybody he even slightly likes and comments dumb shit on all of their posts.

ex; luffy commenting on a post robin made w chopper "can you ask him if reindeers are real?"

takes weird angled photos of his friends and posts them (ex. forehead shots)

Zoro

username is bestswordsmanofficial

usually posts training videos, but also sometimes puts on his story a cry for help to his friends cuz he got lost again

also not the most tech savy guy

i get vibes he would straight up record himself coughing to death and post it

he went viral once, actually.

was dragged by nami to be a backup dancer for one of her tiktoks

stiffly dancing

on snapchat, he uses weird filters like the broccoli one and just sent it to everyone he knew.

Nami

username is nami.venmo.me

probably makes scams in order to get money

she has two accounts; a scamming account and a real account (both under similar usernames actually)

on snapchat, she and usopp have a 200+ snapscore

they both contemplated jumping ship when they messed it up..

matching pfps with usopp too! ex.;

nami is cookie monster, usopp is screaming man

Sanji

username is lovecook_sanji

other than posting the food he makes, he also posts aesthetic photos of him crying💀

ALSO posts photos of baths with rose petals that he only made cuz he wanted to be desperate in the caption like "such a beautiful place... i just wish that... someone could share it with me... :("

out here posting "i wish i was beautiful :(" posts for attention and zoro out here commenting back "i wish you were too💀"

blocked zoro after that

tags ONLY nami and robin in his posts whenever he posts the group

"the rest of them are just some guys 🙄"

Usopp

username is god..usopp

also is in charge of the strawhat official social media accounts

nami makes the aesthetically pleasing posts while usopp posts the funny hahas

like that time luffy slipped off ship with his mouth full of food (and bcuz he can't swim w his devil fruit) so he almost sank to the bottom

plugs his personal acc on the strawhat official acc too much

luffy used to be the manager of the account but that acc got banned...

so usopp was given the job to make a new one and manage it (no luffy you can't write the caption)

Robin

username is nico.robin

mostly posts about the books she's been reading, such as reviews

formats them nice and neatly

all her posts are very aesthetically pleasing

besides book reviews, she posts a lot of chopper

she's like a mom in that way making her kids pose for photos and takes photos as much as possible

overall very pretty account

Franky

username is franky_da_cyborg

when not posting inventions, he posts crewmates doing random things

doesn't have to be weird at all most of the posts are just straight up usopp making a sandwich or robin reading

all posts are very low quality tho lol

Brook

username is musician-brook

obv posts him playing music but also posts himself saying terrible dad jokes

"singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. then it's a soap opera."

he got the phone confiscated for that one

apart of nami's backup dancers for her tiktoks

actually works it

go grandpa go!

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fayes-fics · 7 months

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Call Me

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: When you are parted from Benedict, he guides you through pleasuring yourself....

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, use of sex toy.

Word Count: 3.5k

Authors Note: this is a very belated request fill for the talented and lovely @broooookiecrisp from her ask HERE, where Benedict guides the reader through masturbation. She also chose the pic above, which looks very modern Benedict in Tuscany :) I hope you enjoy this story, my lovely. Thanks to @colettebronte for reading this through & @eleanor-bradstreet for the title. Enjoy! <3

The Facetime call connects as you recline, wearing your noise-cancelling wireless headset.

“Hello darling,” that familiar smooth voice greets, “I've missed you.” His sigh is deep and heartfelt. With the volume up, it sounds like he is lying right with you, but then it's in both ears; the stereo effect makes your tummy feel warm.

“I've missed you too,” you hum, toying with the corner of the duvet you lay under. You are so happy he secured an artist retreat residency in Tuscany for the week, but you miss him terribly. He's only been gone a few days, but it feels like forever.

“I'm sorry this has to be an audio call; the wifi here is shockingly slow and the phone reception non-existent; I thought it better to sacrifice a blocky video for crystal clear audio,” he explains. “You will just have to imagine my face,” he adds with a soft laugh.

Indeed, your mind fills with images of his handsome face; you can even picture the gentle, lopsided grin you can hear in his tone.

“Are you somewhere private?” you ask, a little nervous.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” his question shifting into that lower cadence that fires all the butterflies.

“I miss you,” you offer again, hoping perhaps he can intuit what you are asking for, drawing your knees up, the cotton sheet catching on your heels as you do so.

“I miss you too,” he echoes again, “but I don't think that needs to be said in private,” his tone laconic.

He knows exactly where your thoughts have slid, but he's playing innocent. He always goads you into pushing to speak your mind, to voice your desires, and tonight is no different—gently coaxing you to profess what you want.

“I want you to talk to me,” your voice with a slight waver that betrays a hidden meaning in the words.

“I am,” the timbre makes the little earphones in your ear almost vibrate, and a frisson runs down your spine.

“No…” you hesitate, “talk to me,” emphasising the word.

“If you want something from me, darling, all you have to do is ask,” his tone a dark lilting tease now.

“Talk to me like you do when we are intimate,” you rush out on an exhale.

His rich chuckle makes your nipples pebble without so much as a touch. “Now we are getting somewhere….” he buzzes. “Are you going to touch yourself for me while I do, hmm?”

You bite your lip but can't disguise the whimper that escapes. You close your eyes and flick the volume up two notches on your phone, throwing it aside so both hands are available.

“I want you to tell me what to do,” you breathe, pushing the duvet down your body, feeling heated.

You hear the noise that catches deep in his throat; it's thick and desirous, and you thank the technology gods for headsets with this level of quality.

“What are you wearing?” he rumbles.

“Nothing…” you confess, knowing it's breathy and wanton.

“Oh god, yes,” his rushed response, a reflex that makes you clench your thighs together, loving how affected he is just by that simple statement. “Where are you?”

“In our bed.”

“Under the covers?”

“I was, but now I'm feeling hot, so I've pushed them aside. It's just me… naked… uncovered… alone… resting on your pillow…”

With each little phase, you can hear his breathing getting more pronounced. “Why my pillow?”

“It smells like you,” you answer.

“Does that turn you on?” his voice going tight.

“Yes, oh god, Ben, yes, it does.”

He growls lightly when you say his name, the noise in your ears so loud it makes you squeak, a hand straying to your breast.

“Guide me, please; I need to imagine it's your hands on me. “Draw me a mental picture as clear and evocative as one of your beautiful paintings.”

“Hmmmm,” his thoughtful hum runs right through your body with the volume up. “How about we take this slow, build to something? I have a painting I worked on earlier today. Would you like me to describe it to you? Describe how I would paint you into it?”

“Yes! Yes, please,” you enthuse quickly, desperate for his artistry in all senses of the word.

“It's Tuscany, a sun-drenched summer’s day,” his storytelling is always spellbinding, so you settle back into the pillows as if listening to a private audiobook made just for you. “The sky is azure blue; the fields are bright, verdant green. Olive trees dot the rolling hills all around. Right in the middle is a small vineyard. A gentle slope of neatly rowed vines, the leaves canopying bunches of ripened grapes, drooping heavily, ready for harvest.”

As he speaks, you spider your fingertips over your collarbone, imagining the heat of the sun on your skin.

“The grass between the vine rows is lush and thick, a balm from the heat,” his sonorous voice continues at a lush pace. “That is where I would paint you, lying on that hillside. The cool blades tickling your back as the sun bakes your skin.”

“What am I wearing, Benedict?” you inquire, gently biting your lip as your hands stray lower onto the swell of your breast, so enchanted by the picture he paints.

“Exactly what you are right now,” he responds with a slight hitch.

“Nothing?” you gasp, the idea suddenly so risque but more beguiling.

“That's right,” he rumbles. “I would paint you utterly nude.”

You brush lightly around your own areola, writhing gently under your own touch.

“Are you with me, Benedict? In this vineyard?” your breath quickening.

“How else am I going to paint you unless I am there too?” he teases gently. “And guess what I would be doing while I'm painting?”

“What?” goosebumps on your arms with anticipation, your fingers moving concentric circles.

“I would tell you to touch yourself, just as I am now. There is nothing I want to paint more than you in the throes of ecstasy,” he exhales raggedly. “You are beautiful, wild, glorious….”

“I want that too,” you rush out. “Why have you never done it before?”

He chuckles richly; the sound feels like a shimmer over your body. “Because it would be impossible to be near you when you are naked and not to touch you,” his admission is almost rueful.

“I wish you were with me,” it’s wistful.

“I am,” he assures. “just remember hmm? Sunny hillside, naked, the sun on your skin and me there with you. Now, darling, I can tell you are already doing something; I can hear the quirk in your breath. Tell me, tell me in detail.”

“I’m..” you hesitate, “...I’m touching my nipples,” you rush out, finally letting your fingers trail over the nub, pebbling hard as he moans lightly.

“Oh yes,” he stutters, “don’t stop. Give them a gentle pinch for me. Between your finger and thumb…” he waits for your little hiss, and then he hums, “Mmm, does that feel good?”

“Yessss,” you hiss.

“Imagine it’s my fingers, darling,” he requests, and you do.

You think of how it feels when his hands cup your breast, as you do now, and tease your nipples until you beg him to stop. You hear his breath catching in his throat as you make tiny little needy noises and tilt up a fraction off the bed, teasing yourself as he does.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Now wet your fingers, suck on them…”

You know he can hear the wet, suckling noise right in his earpiece as you do as commanded, returning your fingers and painting the dampness over your skin as it puckers heavily under the sensation.

“Now pinch yourself just a little harder; imagine it’s my tongue and teeth; I know how much you like it when I suck hard and just a gentle bite….”

“Ben…” you murmur his name as you move, your head rolling on the pillow, eyes fluttering.

“Fuckkk,” you hear him mutter, losing his composure. It makes something inside you catch fire, a tingle between your legs buzzing harder.

“What next?” you beseech, wanting this to go quicker but at the same time to never stop.

“Slide your fingers down over your ribs, my love,” he stumbles a little, and you hear a squeak as if he is changing position.

“Tickles,” you giggle, and Benedict laughs softly with you.

“I know. I love to run the tip of my nose there,” he divulges, “or I may use a firmer touch. Do that, darling. Sweep your whole palm down, and feel the rise and fall with your breathing as you go.”

You do as asked, the heavier touch centring you somehow as your hand slips onto your tummy.

“Take your time, but don’t stop moving lower, darling,” he lectures. “You know I never do.”

It is so low it echoes around your whole being. Your thighs fall open, a trickle escaping your body.

“Oh god, I’m burning for you, Ben,” it’s out before you can stop it.

“Where?”

“You know where,” you obfuscate.

“I'm not there, remember? I need you to paint me a picture. I know you can do it. Don’t worry. No one can hear us; it’s just you and me. Missing each other.” His gentle, loving reassurance is the push you need.

“Between my legs,” you stutter under his coaxing.

“Are you wet for me?” he queries, panting a little.

“Yes,” you disclose quietly.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Not yet,” you swirl your fingers through the patch of hair, almost as if waiting for his permission to touch.

“You want me to tell you exactly what to do, don’t you?” He intuits.

“Please,” you croak.

“Okay. I just have one condition…” he tapers off, temptingly, knowing he has you on tenterhooks.

“What?” the question is breathy, impatient.

“You have to be loud for me,” he petitions. “Don’t you dare hold back; I want to hear it all.”

“Okay, I promise,” you whisper, your clit pulsing, aching to be touched.

“Alright….” He begins as you hear more sounds like he is getting into position in bed himself, a slight rustle of cotton. “Bend your legs, bring your heels up high right near your bottom…”

You do as instructed.

“Now, splay your knees out wide.”

Again you follow to the letter, feeling the cool air swirling around your exposed, damp slit.

“Reach behind your head and then slide my pillow under your hips…,” he continues in that sinful tone.

“Why?” You check even as you do as asked.

“Because I want my pillow to smell like your pussy when I get home,” he snarls. The untamed way he says it, so loud in your ears, makes you squeak. He has no shame in being explicit, even if you often flounder to do the same.

Now, with your hips raised, it’s easier to touch yourself; likely, he thought about that, too.

“Mmm, are you comfortable again?” he checks.

“Yes,” you confirm, hand slipping to where it was before.

“Good, now take your middle finger and slide it lower,” he instructs. “Keep going until you find that little clit of yours,” you swear he has entered an even throatier register now, each word like dark silk cloaking you.

As your finger pad slides over that spot, you can’t help the little ohhhh that escapes your lips.

“Oh yes, you’ve found it, haven’t you? Now slide a little lower, hook that finger, and pull back up.”

You do as told and moan as your finger immediately snags the most sensitive spot.

“Oh fuck yes,” you can hear the shudder in his tone, how affected he is, making you fizz too. The self-consciousness melts away as his precise instructions root you into your body, letting your mind shut off all the thoughts and worries—just focussed on the present.

“Swirl that finger gently for me, baby,” he compels, “anticlockwise.”

Instantly, your body responds as if it were his touch. You breathe deep as you keep moving, the slickness of your desire easing your motions.

“Are you swelling just a little?” he sounds more urgent now.

“Yes,” you confirm, your clit swelling under your touch as you picture him, his face hovering over you, imagining his fingers teasing you as his lips slid hot over your neck.

“Oh god, I love when you get all swollen and puffy and flushed right there for me,” he groans lewdly, and it’s a beeline straight to your pussy. It convulses around nothing, leaking over your bottom cheeks and onto his pillow. You call his name louder, squirming bodily, something tugging inside. Your body craves him—to be fucked, invaded, pushed open, pounded until it aches from that delicious stretch.

“Fuck I need you, Ben,” you moan as your fingers move faster, sliding over that little pearl. “I need you to fuck me so hard.”

“I want that, but not yet,” he grits out, your declaration seeming to fuel him. “Imagine it’s my tongue, darling, lathing against your clit, drinking up all that beautiful juice. You always taste divine, like a slightly tart peach, sweet but sharp.”

Your mind supplies images of just that, his slightly stubbled jaw rubbing against the sensitive skin of your labia as he has to use both hands to hold you open to his onslaught, your legs reflexively wanting to close up around his head at the powerful sensations you feel, your fingers running into his lush head of hair, nails scraping along his warn scalp, praising his skill.

“When I tell you to, you grab your vibrator, baby.” he interrupts your reverie.

“Yes,” you comply, knowing it is tucked safely under your pillow beside you.

“For now, keep rubbing for me; go faster,” he implores. “Let me hear you, your beautiful voice….”

You speed up, changing motions as he guides you to do so. Softly chanting his name as you notch higher up that invisible ladder. But he knows your body so well—knows with absolute precision when to shake things up, as he does now.

“STOP!!!” he instructs harshly.

You instantly halt ministrations, whining, hearing his laboured breaths loud in your ear, your fingers frozen inches above your folds.

“Oh, are you pulsing baby? Are you so close to coming?” he sounds proud, almost smug.

“Yesssss… please let me continue,” you plead, lungs heaving.

“No,” he menaces as your hand wanders over your thighs to stop the temptation to defy him, feeling the quiver in your muscles.

“Where has your other hand been?” he quizzes.

“Gripping the sheets,” you admit as he huffs a laugh about your honesty.

“Now swap. Touch your clit with that hand,” he tutors.

“What about my other hand? It's soaked,” you confess abashed.

“I know, baby, we are going to put it to good use. Slide two of those soaked fingers inside your pussy for me,” he instructs, so low that every word buzzes in your bones.

You call out his name as you slide two fingers deep into your own soaked pussy, rippling around your touch, a lewd, squelching sound as you do so.

“Oh fuck… I think I heard that,” he inhales sharply.

“You,” you assert, “you did this to me.”

He makes a feral noise in response, breathing in harsh gusts.

“Fuck yourself,” he growls, “fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Your movements are instinctual now, following his words to the letter. Shame melted away under the heat of desire. For him, for this. To come so damn hard you scream the walls down. Plunging your fingers as deep as you can reach, over and over. Your hips are pushed high off the bed, shoulder blades and feet taking your weight as you race greedily towards your peak, forehead and the back of your neck dewy from the exertion. Thinking of his fingers buried inside, of how, when it’s him, he holds you down with a solid quad muscle over your thigh, doesn’t let you buck up as you are now.

“Please, Ben. I need your cock,” you bumble, uncensored, whimpering that you can’t quite reach as deep as he can, reach that spot that makes you babble utter nonsense and white out with pleasure.

“Grab that vibrator y/n. Fuck yourself properly,” he orders gruffly.

You release your clit and fumble under your pillow for it, a slight sound of victory catching in your throat as you do so.

Without preamble, you thrust it inside yourself, just as he would with his cock when he knows you are this mindless. The stretch isn’t as good as him, not the same weight and heat, but it still feels like a heavenly sensation in your heightened state. Your noises staccato as you take it all on board, pausing slightly to get used to the invasion.

“Did I say you could stop?” he interrogates.

Without riposte, you scramble to obey, withdrawing the vibe then sinking it back in, attempting to ape one of his rhythms, the sense memory of him moving inside you making you moan loudly.

“That’s it. Does that feel good?” his voice practically a purr.

“Yes, but not as good as you,” you answer, missing the feel of him surrounding you when you are fucking. Skin, sweat, scent, weight, the feeling of another body covering or moving under yours.

“I know, darling. I promise it will be me soon. I’ll be home in a few days,” he pledges, breathing hard.

“Will you fuck me as soon as you are home?” you implore, wanting nothing more in this moment.

“Yes, baby. I’ll take you in the hallway if you want,” he vows, his cadence desperate.

“Please…” that word is all you can stutter as the hand controlling the vibe becomes a frenzy, your pussy clinging to its mass as if it were his cock.

“Don’t forget that engorged clit,” he reminds. “I need you to rub it as hard as you can with that other hand,” his voice is becoming more broken. “Im fucking you right now,” he avows roughly, “It's me, darling, fucking you so hard. And you feel so so good clenching around my cock…”

You belatedly realise he may be touching himself, may have his cock in his hand as he walks you to orgasm. It makes your thighs tremble and clamp around your hands.

“Are you touching yourself too, Ben?”

“Yessss”, he hisses. Below the sound of your joint panting, you can hear the faint sound of skin slapping lightly as he fucks his fist.

It’s that image in your mind - him sprawled naked on a bed, skin sunkissed against the crisp white sheets, in a thick stone-walled Tuscan villa, the scent of wildflowers and the lush sound of crickets wafting through the open shutters - that hurtles you towards completion. Imagining yourself right there with him, gripping the wrought iron bed frame as he fucks so deep you can’t help but scream his name and shudder as it is his fingers snagging over your clit rather than your own.

The next few moments are a frenzied blur as, after some last gasps, you emit a long, loud scream as you come so hard, convulsing around the facsimile of his cock, your clit jumping under your touch, dimly aware he is still streaming filthy, needy encouragements that descend into gruff noises as he follows you over, the tell-tale sound of that final moment when he comes so loud against your eardrums as if he is right there slumped around you, his lips hot on your neck.

There is nothing but gulping breaths as both recover, feeling no shame, just a bone-deep satisfaction that makes you languid and heavy, not wanting to move, just curl up and sleep, a t-shirt of his you grabbed earlier your companion in his absence.

“Fuck I came so hard,” he sounds almost sheepish as it sounds as if he is cleaning up his torso.

“Me too,” you concur, little ripples of fire still running down your legs and arms, oversensitive to any stimuli; even the bedding feels almost too much.

“I want you to come again, but you sound sleepy,” he assesses correctly, and you hum in agreement.

“Too sleepy,” you slur the words as you turn onto your side and fling away the toy to be dealt with another time.

His amused sound is rich and warm. “Curl up, my love,” you once again find yourself carrying out his bidding without conscious thought.

“How long until you are home, Ben?” you mumble after a stifled yawn.

“Thirty-three hours,” you can hear the affectionate, lazy smile as he says it.

“Too long,” you lament gently into his t-shirt, the citrus-woodsy scent of him a comfort.

“Next time, come with me; it's beautiful here,” he murmurs ardently.

“I may love it there too much,” you jest, “I may never want to leave.”

“If you were here with me, I may never want to either,” he imparts softly.

You just hum contentedly. “Will you stay on with me?” you ask quietly, “until we fall asleep?”

“I never planned for anything but,” he responds fondly, a warmth blooming behind your ribs at his words.

And that is how you drift off, whispering sweet nothings as you slip into a restful slumber. The call only disconnects hours later when your batteries run out as you both sleep soundly.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @0x1harmonia0x1

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader

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m4ctavish · 1 year

Text

Soap and Ghost — Romantic Headcanons. (1)

Masterlist.

Pairing (s) : John “Soap” MacTavish/GN! Reader, Simon “Ghost” Riley/GN! Reader

Desc : Some more romantic headcanons for the 141 boys :)

A/N : i want to include alex but i know absolutely fucking nothing about him 😭

John “Soap” MacTavish :

I believe I’ve established in some of my other headcanons before that Soap can be fairly physically affectionate.

He loves just holding his partner around the waist, back to chest. Either that or just holding hands with them, laying on the couch with them, etc.

Also doesn’t mind being held. If you wanna seat him in your lap or just hold him, back to chest, he’s fucking game (has he sat in your lap of his own volition before? absolutely)

He’ll often press a swift kiss to your forehead before he leaves to do something for the day, which may lead to a couple more and you might have to remind him that you both have stuff that requires your attention. (“Love ya.” “Stay safe, MacTavish.”)

If you two have more time, he’ll be sure to press kisses to every part of your body that you’ll let him, all the while mumbling how much he loves you. (typically happens either late at night when you’re about to sleep or early in the morning when you’re both just indulging in one another’s presence, kinda like those dreary cuddle sessions where you’re both half awake)

Can and will tell you that he loves you 24/7, so you don’t have to worry about that. (the 141 + laswell collectively put their head in their hands the moment your name comes out of his mouth) He simply Loves His Partner.

Lots of quality time, which can either be doing things you like or things both of you like— sometimes it’s just laying on the couch together, cuddled up, watching a shitty rom-com or terribly made horror movie.

Is he good at cooking? No. BUT he will absolutely try to make you your favorite meal and/or make you breakfast, which you may just end up having to order take out/go out to eat (at least he tried tho + can you imagine teaching him about some of your favorite dishes and just spending time together in the kitchen :AGONY:)

Has fallen asleep on you when the two of you are on the phone or video calling (one minute the two of you are actively conversing and the next he’s out like a light)

Simon “Ghost” Riley :

Isn’t against saying that he loves you and will when he feels the need to do so but Ghost prefers to do little things for you given the chance

I’ve mentioned this before but he’ll take the time to sew some of the holes in your clothes or do your laundry, try to pick you up something to eat if he gets up before you, or he’ll clean some of your equipment for you (make sure your knife has a nice glint to it) Acts of service, I suppose

When it comes to showing his love, I feel like he may also go for words of affirmation but in a way that’s like, “I’m proud of you” or “You did good today.”

Listens intently when you’re talking about things that interest you— it could be the most mundane thing ever and he’d still be actively listening along (he’s sure to ask some questions when he feels it’s necessary)

He loves it when you talk to him, especially late at night when he can’t get his mind to shut up and has difficulty falling asleep. (combine just telling him about your day and running your fingers through his hair, he’s out like a light— the quickest you’ve ever seen him fall asleep)

Alternatively, trace along the tattoos on his forearm or along the lines of his palm. It’s distracting, but in a good way. (definitely nice when he’s not really feeling the whole ‘cuddle up’ mood)

Sometimes his words fail him and he just finds himself staring at you. You could be sleeping, talking to somebody else, or just sitting across from him and his eyes are just trained on you the entire time— he’s drinking in all that you are.

^ He just can’t comprehend that someone loves him in all of his entirety, someone that he views as so perfect and better than him in all ways humanly possible. (he’s just a little in awe, give him a bit)

Perhaps he stares too often, to the point Soap begins to tease him about it, which in turn eggs the rest of the 141 on. (“Gonna explode em with yer mind, Lt.?” “No.”) Gaz initially thought he stared so often because there was just something about you he didn’t like and Price, well Price (somehow) knows everything. (except the things he needs to know)

Likes to be held for a change; he feels safe in your embrace and often finds comfort in the constant that is your heartbeat (big man being vulnerable makes me want to throw myself down a flight of stairs MAAAN)

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish x reader #call of duty x reader #modern warfare x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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WIBTA if i tell a friend that i don’t want to do movie nights with her anymore?

So I (18nb) have a semi-online friend (17f) (semi-online because i know her due to connections with other irl friends but she lives very far away, so i’ve never met her irl) who likes watching movies together with me. The way we would always do it is that she’d video call me over whatsapp and then play whatever movie she decided to watch on her tv and she’d like just point her phone’s camera to the screen.

as you can probably imagine, that guaranteed a terrible audio and picture quality every single time. i have sensory issues due to my autism (she isn’t autistic, but might have adhd (she isn’t diagnosed but has most of the symptoms), so that combination always ends with me really overstimulated after an hour (aka before most movies are finished). irl movie nights aren’t an option bc again she lives super far away.

now, she has been my friend for a few years and we can’t really do much stuff together because of the distance, so i understand why she wants something that we can “do” together yk? and obviously there’s not many options bc neither of us play video games.

however, it’s always me who has to deal with the worse quality and it’s always her who decides what we watch. like when i propose something she’ll always be like “yeah maybe eventually” and then brush it off & forget about it & tell me what she wants to watch instead. and like those other options she gives are supposed to just be like proposals, but she’s a very persistent person and it takes me saying “no” like 5 times until she accepts it. i’m not very good at saying no, but that’s my own problem and i don’t blame her for that. it just means that this is a bad combination bc it takes a lot out of me to not budge yk?

another thing is that she doesn’t have many irl friends and so i feel bad for not wanting to continue these movie nights tbh, but until we either a) find a way to do them with better quality for me or b) switch who chooses the movie and who has to deal with the bad quality, i do not want to do this anymore.

she’s a great friend and this isn’t a huge huge issue, but it’s weighing on me and i don’t like the situation as it is right now.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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tokkias · 1 year

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How about actor au hc’s for fairy tail! (Nalu centered cuz i need my nalu crumbs)

so i got like 80% of the way through writing these before i realised i may have misinterpreted this ask, and that you were in fact probably asking for an au where they're actors on fairy tail as a show. oops! but these are actually headcanons that i have (to no ones surprise) talked about pretty at length with @nalunalu which is why this was my default list.

in fact, they even drew some absolute banging art based on one of these headcanons so you should go look at it <333

if that is in fact what you meant, and you still really want to hear my thoughts on it, i would still love to write that up, just send me another ask and i will make a post, but i hope you enjoy these general actor au headcanons nonetheless <3

misc natsu + lucy headcanons

natsu primarly does actions films and lucy mostly does dramas

natsu got his start in the industry as a stunt double but eventually started getting acting roles of his own

he does all (or most) of his own stunts

lucy gets into acting in college where she's doing a business degree at her fathers demands and she takes an improv class to try and make friends

she's really bad at improv and thinks it's fucking lame, but it sparks her interest in acting and she gets a conjoint degree in business and theatre

she would have dropped her business degree but if she did that her father would have stopped paying for it and it was the only way he would entertain the idea

as soon as she graduates she leaves home, cuts off all contact with her father and goes to pursue acting

she works waitressing and modelling for a while and she's offered the chance at a full time modelling contract but as much as she likes it, she still wants to pursue acting

natsu is crazy good at spotting cameras and paparazzi

like this video is natsu

there are so many photos of natsu and lucy where lucy's minding her own business, chatting along, while natsu just stares dead straight into the camera

natsu's instagram is made up entirely of bad pictures he takes of lucy

he only posts when he's contractually obligated to promote something and it's always his stupid genre of bad lucy photos

when he's not allowed to post bad lucy pics to promote his new projects, it's bad pics of his cat happy

his agency gets so sick of his terrible instagram prescense that he has it taken away from him and a social media manager takes over

they start posting actual nice good quality photos from red carpets and other events and people fucking hate it

the comments are so flooded with demands to bring lucy and happy back that they are forced to give it back to him, which he of course announces with a bad picture he took of lucy holding happy

all the comments are just like. the return of the king.

people constantly ask if his phone/camera is like 10 years old or if his terrible quality photos are an aesthetic choice, and it's not. it's 5 years old and has a crack on both cameras because he's always dropping it doing dumb shit

lucy still does a lot of modelling for magazines after her acting career takes off, but more for fun that for money like when she first ran away from home

brands are clambering at her feet to have her as their ambassador

she becomes a style icon and still retains her expensive taste from growing up in the heartfilia household

she wears lots of designer dresses on the red carpet and she works with a stylist but most of her stuff she picks herself

while lucy is always wearing show-stopping gowns on the red carpet and to every other promo event, natsu has one (1) suit he wears to every event

the only thing he changes is the shirt he wears underneath and it always matches what lucy's wearing

nalu specific headcanons

they meet for the first time on the set of a romcom that they're starring in opposite of each other and it's both of their first time doing anything like it

they're pretty much instant besties and they surprise literally everyone with how great their chemistry and comedic timing is

lucy did not know of his stunt double background until she watched him do one on set for the first time and she was fucking mortified. she screamed

their first kiss (and probably natsu's first kiss ever) is on set and they both get a little too into it for their own good

it's just a good old friendly kiss with no meaning whatsoever except for the fact that it definitely goes on for way longer than it was scripted to

they have a sex scene in the film and lucy is super nervous because it's her first time filming one

it's natsu's first time too but he's not nervous at all because he's jumped off of moving cars before so pretending to have sex with lucy is nothing compared to that

every time the cameras aren't rolling natsu is just goofing around to try make her feel more comfortable and it works a little too well because they're laughing and giggling and goofing off the whole time

if they were good friends before that, they're basically inseperable after it

on set, it's cute sometimes and infuriating other times

lucy's hair stylists and makeup artists fucking hate him because he will not leave her alone while they're trying to do her hair and makeup

he once got himself cursed out for giving her a noogie between her hair being done and get scene

once filming wraps they're both really bummed because they go from seeing each other every day to being lucky to see each other once every few weeks

once promo for the film starts they are attached at the hip

the films marketing team doesn't even have to try to push them into a fake relationship to promote the film because everyone just thinks they're dating anyway

in fact, they're so close that they're constantly accused of being in a fake relationship and that it's "so fake and forced" even though they're not actually dating

so much arguing ensues because of the sheer natural chemistry they have together in interviews even though both sides are wrong, they're just close friends who kiss for a job

lucy desperately needs everyone to know that they're not actually dating and that they're just friends but the films marketing team shushes her because it'll be good promo for the movie

natsu on the other hand does not care about it at all because he pays so little attention to the media anyway that he didn't even know people thought they were dating

both of them were pretty well known before the film, but the dating speculation and their acting in the film itself turns them both into household names and people hardly seperate one from the other

they both make cameos, even small ones, in each others films

lucy landed a role in a soap opera and natsu, who has never worked in television before, plays a recurring role as her love interest

he is not very good at acting in soaps because he thinks they're kind of lame and he's not practiced in it at all so his role is pretty limited to scenes with lucy because they just have stupid insane chemistry that everyone loves

natsu enters stage left. natsu kisses lucy. natsu exit stage left.

it's not until years of being best friends and well after the dating speculation dies down do they actually start dating, but neither they or their reps reveal it

no one gets confirmation that they're dating until pictures of their wedding pops up online and everyone is like THEY'RE MARRIED???

lucy writes a super long heartfelt post about how she got to marry her best friend and how much he means to her

natsu posted a picture of him and happy in matching suits and then the one (1) nice photo of lucy he has on their wedding day on the second slide with no caption

#nalu #mya's mumbles #headcanons #nalu actor au #GOD THE WAY THIS STARTED OUT AS SILLY LITTLE HEADCANONS AND DEVOLVED INTO A WHOLE POTENTIAL FIC

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twig-tea · 3 months

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when you get this you have to answer with 5 of ur fav songs and then tag your mutuals to do the same :) (no pressure <;3)

Tagged by @my-rose-tinted-glasses thank you friend💕

I am absolutely terrible at choosing favourites so what I'll do is put the 5 latest songs I've added to my favourites playlist (which is 300 songs long, downloaded permanently on my phone, and I listen to it every time I leave the house to commute, grocery shop, etc. so they get repeated a LOT):

youtube

Jeff Satur's latest single, Ghost/ ซ่อน (ไม่) หา [hide (not) seek], with it's excellent MV that's a whole emotional rollercoaster

youtube

Barcode, No More Dream/ไม่อยากจะฝันดี [I don't want good dreams], OST from Dead Friend Forever

youtube

Dean Fujioka, History Maker, Theme song for Yuri!!! on Ice [I got back in my Yuri!!! on Ice soundtrack feelings lately and as a result this got put back on my favourites playlist lol]

youtube

LazyLoxy, Shadow/เงา, OST from Shadow [the back half of the show was a disappointment but this song is still a jam]

youtube

P1Harmony (피원하모니), Fall In Love Again [sorry for the sound quality of this video but it's the little penguin-walk-wiggle dance moves in the chorus that got me obsessed with this song tbh so it felt disingenuous to link the actual video. OB.SESSED.]

tagging some folks at random: @wen-kexing-apologist @hyeoni-comb @benkaaoi @bengiyo @thegalwhorants @visualtaehyun @lurkingshan @isaksbestpillow as well as @troubled-mind even though I know you've already done it lol as always no pressure at all! 💕

#tag game #music recs #typed so that i can stop thinking it

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adore-laur · 5 months

Text

PITCHER’S PROMISE

— a valentine’s day addition to southpaw 💐

——

Video games have officially become the bane of Sawyer's existence. Over the edge of the porcelain bathtub, her cramped fingers rapidly click a series of buttons on her boyfriend's Game Boy console. She's in the midst of fighting an enemy because, God forbid, they're trying to destroy the ghoul realm.

If she's being honest, nothing about what's happening on the tiny, pixelated screen makes any sense to her, but she's been trying to beat this level for the past hour, and she hates that it's too addictive to put down. Harry had left it behind for her in case she got unbearably bored and resorted to picking out one of his many cartridges so she could immerse herself in a different reality. Well, that's precisely what occurred.

She hasn't seen him in nine days due to a national baseball tour he's on, and she's been awfully lonely. She lives with her parents, but most of the time, she just wants Harry's company.

However, the hole in her heart is temporarily filled whenever he calls her landline or office's fax number, depending on where she is. Still, not seeing his face except on the low-quality television in her bedroom is slowly taking a toll on her sanity.

Not only that, but it's ten o'clock at night on Valentine's Day, and she's stuck at home with no one to celebrate it with.

Sighing defeatedly, Sawyer shuts the console off in the middle of her losing battle and gently sets it on the floor beside the tub. She sinks in the lukewarm water, letting the soap bubbles tickle her chin as two candles flicker beside her. They're orange and vanilla scented, a trick to make it seem like summertime.

Just as she's about to shut her eyes to rest, the monophonic ringtone of her Nokia phone goes off from atop the sink. She contemplates whether she has enough energy to go grab it. No, she's too comfortable. But then again, it could be an emergency.

With a huff, she heaves herself out of the tub and sacrifices her warmth to whoever is calling. She leaves puddles in her path as she reaches the sink and picks up the ringing device. On her way back, she checks the number on the screen. The familiar ten digits instantly cause rapturous butterflies to escape in her stomach, and she eagerly holds the phone against her ear.

"Sunray," she answers, a delighted smile evident in her tone as she submerges her body in the water again. "I was getting worried you wouldn't call."

"Baby." Harry sounds relieved that she picked up, but his voice is terribly worn out due to traveling nonstop. Scratchily and with strain, he asks, "Did I wake you? How have you been sleeping?"

Sawyer cradles her burning cheek and giddily tucks her knees against her chest. "No, I'm taking a bath," she replies softly. "Harry, hi. I miss you so much. It's hard to fall asleep when you're not here to hold me."

He makes a wounded noise, something similar to a whimper. "Fuck, that's a knife to my heart. How's my girl? I miss your pretty face. Hey, guess what? I had a dream about you last night. We were giggling and making out on the beach."

"Did you wake up kissing your pillow?"

"Yeah. Wished it was you instead."

She shivers, even with the warm water engulfing her. "Soon. Only three more days until we can make that dream come true."

A desperate hum of agreement blossoms through her phone speaker. "How was work, by the way? What's the 411? Any juicy gossip making rounds in the cubicles?"

Sawyer rolls her eyes in amusement and says, "It went fine, just really boring. I've been dozing off since I got home, so I played your stupid quest game to stay awake."

"And how did that go?" Harry pries with a hint of humor.

"Awful," she grumbles, popping a soap bubble before it floats to the ceiling. "I gave up after an hour. The ghoul realm can fend for itself."

Laughing. He's laughing at her futile attempt. "Tough luck, buttercup. Not everyone has the gift of being a master ghoul slayer."

"Whatever." She steers the conversation in a different direction by mentioning, "I heard your game got canceled today in Baltimore because of the weather. Is everyone safe?"

"'Twas only a wee little storm," he reassures in a random Scottish accent for a reason unbeknownst to Sawyer. Jet lag delirium might be the case. "Appreciate you asking, though. You're sweeter than a Georgia peach."

"I'm happy to hear that. And your flight home is on Wednesday, right?"

It's dead silent on the other line long enough for sneaking suspicion to settle in. Sawyer has to double-check the phone screen to make sure they didn't somehow disconnect by accident.

Eventually, Harry says, "Uh, slight change of plans. I may or may not be in Orlando already."

Sawyer freezes, her heart skipping a beat. "What? Right now? What are you talking about?"

"The game got rescheduled for next month, so we had the option to go home early since that was the last stop on tour."

A flicker of hope causes her lips to break into a beautiful smile. "Where are you?" she dares to ask, anxiously biting her thumbnail.

"Attica Lane, third house on the left," he says coyly. "I see a pink light coming from a window upstairs. Perhaps a lava lamp?"

She gasps and sits up like a bat out of hell, causing some water to slosh over the sides of the tub and splat onto the tiles. "As if! Are you serious?"

His gleeful, airy laugh confirms it. "Open your front door and find out. Hurry up, though. It's cold and lonely out here."

Sawyer squeals happily and hangs up, then gets out of the tub to grab a towel. She dries off her dripping body in record time, then throws on one of Harry's shirts that he gave her. It goes down to her knees. Letting her hair fall free from her rumpled bun, she lets out another squeal and bounces on the balls of her feet. She can't believe he's here in time for Valentine's Day. Granted, there are less than two hours left of the holiday, but every second with him is well spent.

After blowing out the candles and almost catching her hair on fire in the process, she races down the staircase as quickly as possible and rounds the corner toward the front door. She clumsily unlocks the deadbolt and turns the knob to open the door, a click resounding throughout the house. Her heart is pounding, and it's like she can feel his energy from the other side.

Oh, she could just about burst into tears of joy because of the sight in front of her.

Harry is casually standing there like the leading man in a rom-com, his ankles crossed and a bouquet of flowers covering his face. He's wearing an off-white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and Tiffany Blue trousers with matching suspenders clipped to them. His athletic duffel bag is slung over his shoulder, contrasting his ornate outfit.

Sawyer will worry about being severely underdressed later. She can't even think straight right now.

"You're actually here," she says in disbelief.

Her beloved boyfriend theatrically reveals his face, an open-mouthed smile greeting her. "Hi. I was gonna be cheesy and throw rocks at your window, but I know that would've scared the crap out of you."

Sawyer can't help herself. She pounces forward and jumps into his arms like a flying squirrel, hooking her legs around his waist and squeezing him so close until she's inhaling his Old Spice cologne that she's missed dearly. Harry grunts and takes an unbalanced step backward from the force in which she does so but quickly catches her with one strong arm around her body, the other still holding the bouquet.

"Missed you so fuckin' much," he murmurs, his duffel bag sliding off his shoulder and hitting the floor with a clunk. "Do you know how miserable I was? Do you know what you do to me? To my heart?"

She pulls back and admires him with teary eyes, observing any changes that might have sprouted in the last nine days. The first thing she notices is that his nose is slightly red from standing outside her house for who knows how long. She smacks a loud kiss onto it, causing it to involuntarily wrinkle.

"My boy," she sighs blissfully while planting an equal number of kisses onto his deep, visible dimples. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Harry hikes her up more so that she towers over him. "I'm here," he says, his voice sounding raspier in person. “As soon as the game got canceled, I packed my bags and flew straight here. I couldn't go any longer without seeing you."

"You didn't stop to visit your parents?"

He dumbly shakes his head with an unaware smile, appearing lost. "No..."

"Harry!" she scolds as a laugh climbs up her throat.

"Is that a problem?" he asks, his gaze completely entranced by her lips. "Hmm? What're you trying to tell me?" He steals two kisses from her, both deep and borderline bruising. "You tellin' me you don't wanna make out with your boyfriend right now?"

"I didn't say that—" Another fervent kiss cuts her off abruptly, and Sawyer melts into it this time, becoming conscious of how much she missed his lips. The peach fuzz growing along his jaw and under his nose tickles her skin as she moves her mouth against his, a sign that he's been too exhausted to shave. She doesn't care if it feels like sandpaper rubbing on her freshly washed face; the softness of his lips overpowers it.

After a minute of making out like a couple of smitten teenagers, Harry finally sets her feet on the floor and presents the bouquet. "These are red camellia flowers," he explains breathlessly, licking his swollen bottom lip. "I surfed the web, and the Old Farmer's Almanac said they symbolize being a flame in someone's heart."

Sniffing the fragrant petals, Sawyer asks, "What does that even mean?"

"Dunno," he drawls sleepily. Oh gosh. She's worried his next blink will have him tipping over and falling asleep on her doorstep. "Sounds right, though, doesn't it?"

"Coming from your mouth, I suppose it does." She clasps her hands on his cheeks and stands on her tiptoes to nonverbally thank him with a gracious kiss. He lazily smiles into it before Sawyer giddily tugs him inside the house and toward the cozy ambiance of her bedroom. "Speaking of flowers," she continues distractedly, still dizzy from making out, "I also got you some."

Sawyer goes to the far side of her room to grab the mason jar on her windowsill, which is stuffed full of stems with an abundance of tiny white blossoms. She sets the bouquet of camellia flowers down in its place. When she spins around, she comes face-to-face with Harry, who's pretending he didn't just get caught looking over her shoulder.

"Hi," he whispers, innocently tapping his foot on the carpet.

She internally melts when she notices his tired eyes. "Do you want to go to bed? This can wait until tomorrow."

He shakes his head, albeit letting out a ferocious yawn. "It's our first Valentine's Day as a couple. Don't wanna waste it by zonking out."

"Okay. Well, here." She nervously thrusts forward the jar. "These are baby's breath. They, um, represent everlasting love. I know it's stupid, but—"

"Sawyer Alejandra, are these for me?" he interrupts teasingly.

She could have gotten him a classic bouquet of roses or an elegant arrangement of tulips. Yet when the nice lady behind the counter told her the meaning behind the flower with a delicacy that rivaled Harry's, the hidden romantic side of her won.

"Hand-picked specifically for you," Sawyer says quietly, hoping the moonlight shining through the window doesn't accentuate the blush staining her cheeks. "Someone was selling flowers downtown at the Plant Street Market, and I couldn't resist."

Harry smoothly grabs her hand and pulls her in for a suffocating hug, being careful of the flowers between their bodies. "Wait, did you say they represent everlasting love?" he mumbles curiously.

"Maybe."

"What's that all about, honeybee? Can't get enough of my sweetness?"

She releases herself from his trap of love before she tackles him out of sheer adoration. "Go change into something more comfortable. I need to brush my teeth."

Once that's done and Harry is in his pajamas, which consist of a retro graphic tee and a white pair of boxers (as well as his prescription tortoiseshell glasses he doesn't wear enough), Sawyer scoots over on her twin bed to make room for him. She's working on saving money for a bigger bed since they both have fallen off too many times whenever they have sleepovers.

As the electric fan on her nightstand hums lowly, they sit against the headboard and look at each other. It's not awkward nor a mystery as to why they're doing it. It's simply a moment where Sawyer soaks her sunray in, realizing that maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder. And in that moment, she can feel something cosmic break through the silence. A shrouded love that went unspoken for years is now center stage and glowing magnificently.

Nothing glows brighter than when the stars align.

Harry makes the first move by taking her hand in his. "I have something else for you," he says, swallowing and shifting closer to her. "It's sort of a Valentine's Day gift mixed with an early six-month anniversary gift."

Another gift? Doesn't he know his presence alone is enough for her?

Sawyer's eyes dance around his figure, noticing his timid body language. "You're making me nervous."

He gives her a handsome smile and pertly kisses her knuckles. "Good kind or bad kind?"

"Depends on the gift."

While tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he tells her, "Check under your pillow."

She pulls back and makes a face at him. "When did you put something there?"

"It's always been there, silly goose."

"Yeah, right." Sawyer reaches under her pillow and moves her hand around until it hits something solid. She grasps the unknown object, pulls it out, and then opens her palm. What lies there is a black ring box.

"Sawyer," Harry starts after clearing his throat, still holding her hand, "I miss you all the time. When I'm thousands of miles away, I call just to hear your sweet voice. When I can't sleep at night, I think about you until I dream about you. Even when you're right beside me, and I'm smothering you with affection, I still can't seem to get enough."

Her eyes widen in unforeseen panic. "Are you proposing right now? Harry, I don't think I'm—"

"Not yet, baby," he says with a quiet laugh. He nods his head toward the box in her hand. "Take a look."

Sawyer shivers at his weighted statement that he spoke as a light breeze. She waits until her goosebumps go away, then gently lifts the top of the box to reveal a beautiful gold ring resembling the top half of the sun.

"This... gosh, this is stunning!" She looks at him, mouth agape. "I love it. Thank you so much."

Harry plucks it out of the silky cushion and slides the band on her ring finger. It fits perfectly, the aureate metal complementing her tan skin.

"For when it's dreary in Orlando, and your sunray can't be here with you."

Sawyer admires it for a little longer and then gives him a big hug, which he reciprocates with an even bigger hug. "I love you," she says into his neck. “You're the absolute sweetest."

"Love you forever." He pulls away and gives her a gentle noogie. "It's also, like, a promise ring if you're comfortable calling it that. It's just that I love making you happy. I swear, making you smile and laugh is my favorite thing to do, and I... Sawyer, I want to do that for as long as you'll let me." He lets a tender kiss linger on her lips before vulnerably murmuring, "Please let me."

She cradles his face like it's made of glass and nods firmly. "I'll let you. I promise."

Harry holds his pinky out, and Sawyer hooks hers around it without a second thought. "Can I tell you another thing?" he asks, using their interlocked pinkies to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Anything."

His eyes pinch shut. "I get scared whenever I have to leave you for a long time. I get this weird feeling in my belly."

She tilts her head to the side. "How come?"

One corner of his mouth downturns, and it shatters her heart. Shrugging meekly, he mutters, "Because I don't want you to forget about me."

She stares at him with cloaked bewilderment. He really doesn't know how often he crosses her mind or how often he's made her feel like the only girl in the world. Maybe it's her fault for not telling him enough. Either way, it's appalling that a boy like him can't see how remarkable he is. She would do anything to experience life through his eyes.

"Harry," Sawyer says with the utmost sincerity, "how could I ever forget about you? When I see the sun, my first thought is you."

His eyebrows raise at her candidness. "Wow. Have you ever considered becoming a romance novelist?"

"I'm serious," she says, fidgeting with his long fingers. "Don't deflect, okay? Let me love you with my words."

"I'm sorry." Apologetic lips press against her forehead for two seconds. "Sorry. I'm just so scared of getting this wrong. You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I'd never forgive myself if I screwed it up."

"You do everything right." Is it really not obvious? "Just listen to me for a moment. I feel like I don't compliment you enough."

Harry blinks sluggishly and works his way down the bed until they're both lying down, facing each other in close proximity. "I'm all ears. If I fall asleep, it's only because your voice is like a lullaby."

Sawyer feels her fatigue wash over like an ocean tide under the moonlight. "You are so beautiful," she tells him, the dim glow from her lava lamp making his facial features appear softer. "I love how your lips are the same color as the bubblegum you always chew. They taste like it too." She inhales and shifts her head on the pillow to get a better look at her boyfriend. "I also love your eyes. The crinkles around them when you're happy make me swoon. And don't even get me started on your dimples."

"Stop, baby." Harry buries his face in her pillow and lets out an embarrassed whine.

"And I love your nose so much. Did you know it moves when you talk? Isn't that something?"

"Hate you right now," he grumbles.

"Look at me." She pushes his head until it tilts back. "What I love most is your heart. I'd live there if I could."

"You already do. Moved in the summer of '87."

Sawyer giggles for some reason or another. It's probably giddiness; she's too sleepy to make sense of anything. Harry tries to stifle his laughter, but it comes out in infectious bursts. Breathy and raspy, the sound could undoubtedly open the gates of heaven.

There's a stretch of comfortable silence before his eyebrows dip in thought. "Hey, would you ever want to live with me? Like, actually?"

"Would I—" She briefly pauses, air leaving her lungs in an astounded exhale. "Would I ever live with you? Of course. Yes, absolutely."

Sawyer had fantasized about it even before Cupid struck her with his gold-tipped arrow. Visions of waking up slowly beside Harry in a much bigger bed to sprawl out on, sunrise snuggles and klutzy kisses passing the time before rumbling stomachs disrupt their bliss. Admiring him from her place on the kitchen countertop, watching him flip pancakes while he's shirtless and humming along to the radio. Staying up until midnight creeps around, consuming outlandish game shows on the television and throwing popcorn into each other's mouths. Lying on the backyard hammock in the summer, sticky popsicle lips cooling sweaty skin. Dancing in the driveway during a rainstorm, feeling like the only two people who exist solely for each other.

Soulmate. That's the word.

Harry rubs at his eyes with a shy smile, seemingly having drifted off into a reverie about it too. "Okay. Can we do that soon? I mean, whenever you're ready. But soon, please. I want permanent sleepovers." He's quiet for a few seconds before languidly adding, "I love the smell of your house. If I could bottle it as a cologne, I'd wear it 24/7."

Sawyer scratches his scalp. "You need to sleep. You're so jet-lagged right now."

"Sleep is for the bleak," he mumbles, his lips barely moving from being smushed against the pillow. "Wait... that's not right. Is it weak?" He pokes her side like a needy child. "Sawyer, how does that phrase go again?"

"Put your beams away, sunray. Let the moon have her moment."

He shakes his head stubbornly. "Tell me about your day. What's the scoop? Where did you go? Who did you talk to?"

"Shush, your voice needs rest," she says gently, pulling some of his hair up in a ponytail. “It sounds like you ate a bowl of gravel."

Making a displeased noise of protest, he further insists, "But I wanna talk to you."

Every delayed movement and drawled speech of his is becoming more prominent. Maybe talking to him is the most efficient way to get him to doze off. Plus, it's tough to say no when he's in a state of such endearing drowsiness.

"Fine. You get one question to ask me."

Harry's lips slowly tug up in a smile. "Oh, are you an oracle now?" he teases, accidentally knocking his bony knee against her shin when he shifts his legs. "Oopsie. Sorry."

Sawyer whimpers from the fleeting pain before pulling the blanket over both of their bodies. "Is that your question?"

"No, gimme a second to think of a good one," he replies with a pout. After a moment of serious pondering, he asks, "When did you first realize you were in love with me?"

It's an unexpectedly profound question that comes from somewhere deep and locked away in his heart. Sawyer was ready to receive an odd question about conspiracy theories or the existence of aliens, not one that elicits an answer she couldn't possibly form into a coherent sentence.

"I'm not sure if there was a specific moment," Sawyer says, tracing Harry's cheekbone with her thumb. "It happened gradually, I think. I obviously thought you were attractive from the get-go, but I fell in love with your personality once I got to know it better. You're one hell of a charmer."

Harry's eyes close, yet he still has enough energy to confess, "I fell for you so fast. Did you know that? God, I was crazy about you. Still am, but all those years of being too cowardly to admit my feelings were like a volcano waiting to erupt. Then that perfect night in September" — he makes an explosion noise with his mouth — "made my heart overflow with red-hot love lava. Hey, just like your lava lamp. If it wasn't pink, that is."

This is what happens when he's on the verge of sleep. He talks and talks until his sentences jumble together, and bizarre similes are somewhere mixed in between. She's concerned he won't have a working voice in the morning.

"Sunray."

"Hmm?"

Sawyer takes off his glasses and folds them before setting them on her nightstand. "Let's go on a date tomorrow where we can talk about it all we want. The sooner we go to sleep, the faster we can wake up."

Harry tangles his legs with hers, tucking her into his warm body. "Yay," he whispers excitedly. "Can we go to Tinker Field and make out under the bleachers? Or in the dugout? Whichever you prefer, I don't mind."

"At least take me out to dinner first," she quips.

The joke flies right over his head as he slips further into unconsciousness. "Sure, we can do that. There's that new Mexican restaurant on Orange Avenue. I want to try their queso fritos. Maybe we can make some for breakfast instead and have a cooking day or something."

She desperately wishes she could continue the conversation, but the heat radiating from his body is putting her under a sleep spell. "Mm-hmm. Goodnight."

Harry inhales deeply with a stretch, then wraps her tightly in his arms. "Sweet dreams, Valentine."

A kiss from the sun seals onto her skin, promising lasting love for as long as she lets him.

Infinity is what she chooses.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles #adore-laur #pitcher’s promise #southpaw series

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