Sometimes I think about how the way I met my wife was like a fanfiction
We both had a scholarship to a college soccer team and were the only two competing for center forward, we hit it off instantly and became close friends right away. When our team went to nationals, we had to share a bed and ended up snuggling (and I was, up until that point, absolutely not a physically affectionate person). After we returned home I kept sneaking into her room because I couldn’t sleep without her. Our friends started accusing us of being together and talking crap so, to spite them, we thought it would be a good idea to fake date and sometimes held hands and stuff. We ended up kissing right before she left the country for almost a month and we basically pretended it never happened, and when she came back it happened again and again and then escalated. Cue these lines, verbatin:
Me: *grabs the hand heading between my legs* “Wait, wait.” *sighs, drops forehead to hers* “We’re idiots.”
Her, breathlessly, eyes on my lips: “I’ve always been an idiot.” *swoops in for another kiss*
We ended up taking and decide to be friends with benefits, but JUST kissing benefits, no sex, and then 5 minutes later we had sex. We sleep together for a couple weeks (all the time, any and everywhere) before deciding to make it official, then after another couple weeks say I love you (initially via her closing her eyes and moving her palm from her heart to mine back and forth like a useless lesbian), then about a month later talk about how we wanna get married.
Fast forward a year and we go to university together and we’re roommates. Fast forward four years and we’re married and eloping to Harry Potter World and the beach. Fast forward almost 7 years from when we met and we’re living in the same hometown we first met in and she’s the assistant coach for the team we used to play for. Sex life better than ever (“that much great sex all the time after years together in fics is unrealistic” my ass), I can’t cook for shit but I try, we ride bikes around town and we’re basically the only gays in the village and there’s a little rainbow statue on the outside of our windowsill.
7 years ago I was so in love with her I could barely breathe, and I love her a thousand times more now than I did then.
Charlie, a highly-strung, openly gay over-thinker, and Nick, a cheerful, soft-hearted rugby player, meet at a British all-boys grammar school. Friendship blooms quickly, but could there be something more…?
Nick and Charlie are characters from my debut novel, Solitaire. Heartstopper updates three times a month, on the 1st, 11th, and 21st.
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My AP Psych teacher from high school keeps binders and notebooks with dicks drawn on them to use as visual aids for the Freudian unit.
One time she did this life changing little “experiment” where she ever so calmly asked guys why they draw penises on things. They tried to say “it’s just funny” or “you don’t understand” and she just kept saying “you’re right, I don’t understand. Explain to me. You already know what a penis looks like, why do you have to draw it on things? Are you marking it? Are you tagging it? Girls don’t draw vaginas on things.” And the guys suddenly started questioning their motives for everything they do and one guy was like “ms, stop talking about penises, you’re making us uncomfortable.” And she shouted “HOW DO YOU THINK WE FEEL SEEING DICKS DRAWN ON STUFF ALL THE TIME?”
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