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As a person of the no kids community this is for the ppl with kids

Stop telling us it’s a red flag because we’re able to be selfish with our time. Also stop asking us why didn’t didn’t we having any by 30( cause most of us on here just got to that age) I don’t believe in just making a kid with someone because we’re in love at the moment. I need that shit to be solid, kids will not change the narrative if i don’t like a person. Also understand this and understand it well, if you have kids (notice i said kids, multiples) sometimes it best to just date a person who has kids as well.

Signed the MF no kids community

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last night i dreamt that i got absolutely finger blasted by matthew lillard. i feel oddly comforted in knowing that he’d talk you through it.

i also feel like kinda disappointed bc skeet ulrich was there too… i just wish i’d gone to paris tbh. 😞

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Hey gang!

1. Happy pride month!

2. Palestinian queer people exist. Don't let any amount of pinkwashing let you think Palestine isn't worth saving, boycotting for and protesting for. Don't let pride distract you from the terrors of the genocide happening in Palestine.

Free Palestine

End the apartheid

End the genocide

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i miss writing :/

and yes i’ve been lurking

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I NEED MORE HOZIER FICS. HOW COULD YOU NOT WRITE ABOUT HIM. I WOULD DO IT BUT, (YALL I have a 28 in English) PLS GIVE ME SOMETHING. HE SINGS ABOUT WOMEN AND WAR AT THE SAME TIME. THATS HOT. HE’S TALL AND HAS LONG HAIR AND BIG NICE HANDS. AND HOT😩. YALL WHEN I HEAR HIS MUSIC I GO WEAK IN THE KNEES.

SOMEONE HELP ME GET HIM. 😝😝

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you’re really effing pretty pls hand in marriage

🥹 *offers hand*

omg ily!! 💙 thank you hunny!!

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i have a writing request... please help!

hi lovelies!! i hope you're well.

i've been writing off and on for the last couple of weeks - started a new internship and i am consistently swamped - but i've got a really dramatic case of writer's block.

i feel like my writing has taken a downturn and i don't want to put out anything shitty lol. and i want to write things that you guys would want to read!

so, to help with that, if you would be oh-so nice and kind by sending me some anon ideas to help get things moving in my mind.

literally nothing (within reason) is off limits.

you can submit ideas for anyone i've written for, or hell, someone new. totally up to you.

y'all know i don't be nagging, but i am drowning over here! i'm so desperate to get out of this writer's block, but nothing is helping.

so pls pls pls. if you can't send an anon, that's fine. you can dm your idea to me, if that works better for you. or you can drop a note in my suggestion box. literally anything helps.

thanks in advance, my sweet babies!

love you! 💞

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The TA - three. (h.c., c.e.)

Summary: no spoilers! ;)

Pairings: Professor!Chris Evans x Black!Reader, student!Henry Cavill x Black!Reader

WARNINGS: sexy talk, implied sexy times

here’s part three! props to mai for crankin out long chapters.

and with this... her hiatus ends. enjoy!

UNEDITED

“Could you imagine?” he asked her seductively, sauntering closer to her body so that his heat was radiating in her space. “You and me—together.”

She took a step back, her body stuck in between his and her kitchen counter. “Is that professional?”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“I—I don’t think this is right.” She was almost a puddle by now. “I don’t want us to get in trouble—”

“With who?” another voice spoke from the front door. Her eyes darted over to the origin of the sound and saw him, stood there with his arms folded across his chest and his shoulder leaning against the wall. “With me?”

“Well, yes,” she stuttered out, “I don’t want to lose this job.”

“And why not?” he soon emerged in front of her also, “Is it because you need this job…?”

He paused to analyze her flushed face, her head nodding furiously. 

He smirked, “Or is it because you like the attention you’re getting from me—from us.”

The other voice laughed heartily. “I think that’s what it is.”

“No! I—”

“You like this, don’t you? You like the feeling of being watched.” The first voice retorted with a sinister grin.

“And,” the other butted in, “you know we both want you. Do you want us, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t know what to say. 

“Y’know, I think that she wants us.” The first voice mumbled to the second, both pairs of eyes roaming her body. “I think she wants the two of us to take her—to meet all her needs.”

“Is that what you want?” Their voices were deep in her ears. She felt a pair of lips on the shell of her ear. The other voice now had his hands all over her as a groan rumbled deep in his chest. She let out a whimper at the feeling of four hands touching her, heat being left in their paths. “Do you want us both to take you?”

“Yes. God, yes.” 

She woke to knocks pounding on her door. 

Dammit. 

She got out of bed hesitantly, sliding into a pair of slippers and putting on her housecoat and moving quickly to the front door to silence whomever was on the other side. She swung the door open, breath catching in her throat. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Henry greeted shortly. “I need to talk to you.”

It was almost too perfect. Here she was dreaming of him touching her wherever his fingers would reach. 

And now here he was. Hopefully, she wasn’t moaning his name in her sleep—it’d be a shame if he heard her from across the hall. 

She stepped aside.

He entered her apartment and sat on the couch.

“Coffee?” she offered since there was no way she’d be able to go back to sleep. 

“No, thanks. I’ve already had two.”

Two cups of coffee? What the hell is going on?

“Are you okay?” she quizzed, cleaning out the single-cup coffee maker to prepare a fresh cup. “You seem…frazzled.”

“Frazzled isn’t even the word.” He muttered.

“So what is it?” she sat next to him while her beverage brewed. 

His eyes cast downward. “I think…I think I like you.”

Well, that’s not at all what she expected after the dream she’d just had. 

“I like you, (Y/N).” he said again, almost to make sure he meant what he said. “I like you a lot. And I know that kind of messes things up for us because I consider us friends. But when you were talking about Chris coming onto you, I got jealous.”

So that’s what that was yesterday; he completely shut down after their conversation at The Bistro. 

She waited for him to continue. 

“I think you’re insanely smart, and you’re pretty, and you’re really cool to be around. I didn’t want to tell you, but I felt weird after yesterday and I knew I’d have to get it off my chest.” He finally looked at her, their eyes meeting. “You’re quiet.”

“I didn’t expect you to say that.” She replied in a hushed tone, “I like you, too.”

“You do?”

She nodded as a reply. And no, she wasn’t going to tell him about her dream, though she wanted to—to “clear the air”, as they say.

Right now, her mind was like a nighttime fog on a deserted road.

“Well, what do we do now?”

That was a good question. Should they decide to pursue a relationship, that could cause a rift between the two of them and Chris professionally; but if they choose not to, then there would be an uncuttable amount of tension between the two of them.

And undoubtably, Chris would freak if he found out either way.

“Y’know what I think?” he continued since she was deep in her own mind. “I think I want to take you on a date.”

She wanted to grin but fought the urge. “Is that so?”

He leaned closer to her, eyes glancing to her lips and back to her eyes. “Yeah, it is. I also think I should kiss you.” He still leaned in, their noses just an inch apart. 

This was just like in her dream. 

She felt his lips brush hers.

“Wait,” she put a hand on his chest. “what about Chris?”

He waved the idea off, one of his hands caressing her brown cheek. “We’re adults. We can be professional, no? What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

And then, finally, they kissed. This part was nothing like her dream. Because right now, in this instant, she was completely engulfed in him and only him without any distractions. 

His scent permeated her nose and infiltrated her thoughts, and his warmth cradled her as they kissed. She wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him in closer (as if that were possible)—she was in dire need to feel more.

He pulled away first. His eyes searched her face for a moment before his head dipped down and kissed along her jaw and down her throat, his hand moving from her face to the back of her neck. 

Her head fell back with a sigh escaping her lips. 

Slowly, her hips began to grind up against his; he chuckled at the contact. He sat up, “Are you sure you want this?” he asked her breathlessly, “We can stop if you want.”

“No.” she almost shouted. “I want this.”

And with that, he untied her robe, then began to strip her on her couch. 

He kissed down her body as he removed their clothes, entwining their fingers. 

**

It was embarrassing how good he’d made her feel. 

It was almost embarrassing how loud he made her moan—to the point where he kept a hand over her mouth as he pounded into her so that Mr. Jenkins next door wouldn’t call security. 

It was almost embarrassing how desperate she was to be connected to him after they finished their three rounds of intimacy.

And, most importantly, she was embarrassed beyond belief at how happy she felt in the moments following their love affair. 

She lay on top of his hairy chest as they rested in silence. She was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep because of how slow his chest rose and fell with each breath. 

“Hey,” he spoke out into the void, his hand gently patting her bum to get her attention. “you okay?”

She nodded against his clammy skin. “Yeah.” She looked up at him, kissing his chin. “I’m good, you?”

He looked back down at her with a grin, “I’m great.” His phone rang from inside one of the pockets of his sweatpants. “Hello?”

A deep voice spoke from the other end. 

She felt his heart begin more rapidly against her cheek. 

She wondered who made him feel so nervous so suddenly. His eyes darted down to her. 

“Actually, I’m a bit preoccupied.”

She felt a squeeze on one of her ass cheeks and let out a squeal, smacking him playfully on the pec. 

“Yeah, I’ll tell her. Thanks, bye.” He tossed his phone to the top of the pile of their clothes. “So, that was Chris.”

“Ah.” 

“And he said that he needs us to stay after class tomorrow to make copies of next week’s case study.”

She groaned. “Dammit. I hate making copies—the copier in Franklin takes forever.”

“I know, I know. But you’ll be with me, so that’s a plus.”

“Is it?” she joked, earning another pinch on the behind. A yelp came from her throat, “Ooh!”

They laid there for a while, stealing kisses and touches as they basked in their afterglow. At some point she stood and strutted to the bathroom to have a shower, not realizing that she has a spectator. “Would you like to join me since you’re watching my every move?”

Quickly, almost as if he was anticipating her asking him, he stood and sped into the bathroom behind her.

***

Tags (DM to be removed): @lady-x-red  @justtwhst  @lokisbitch27 @boundtomyfate​  @cyberdoshee  @liquorlaughslove @heroine-of-color

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hi babies!! 🥺💞 just wanted to pop in and say ily. so… luv you! 🥰

okay byeeeeee

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as of monday i am officially in my 20s 😳 ew

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🥲 i am but a puddle

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i need everyone to understand that my newest obsession is fitz and olivia 🥲

Scandal 2x20  |  “A Woman Scorned”

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so. FUN FACT

tumblr is apparently rolling out a beta for a new post editor that essentially makes it so there are no longer post “types” (text post, audio post, photo post, etc.), and instead all types of content are better integrated into a single post. pretty neat, right?

…until you read the fine print.

The maximum number of total content blocks allowed in a single post is 250.

i emailed support and asked whether each paragraph counts as a content block. i received this reply:

SO. each paragraph counts as a content block, and i’m only allowed 250 content blocks in one post. the solution provided was to reformat my fics by using shift+enter after every paragraph instead of simply enter. which is already unnecessarily annoying in of itself, but then you come to the second hurdle: 

The maximum character length of a single text block is 4096 characters.

so–what?? besides spending my time writing thousands upon thousands of words, i’m expected to copy-paste it and then reformat everything, counting every single one of those words to make sure they fit within the restrictions? or i’m supposed to chop my fics up into multiple parts, even when i don’t want to? how exactly are writers supposed to write on this platform?? as you all know, my style tends to run pretty dialogue-heavy, so i start new paragraphs (and, thus, content blocks!!!) pretty damn often. i did a quick check, and let it snow, at almost 19k, is 550 paragraphs. with this new system, i would be forced to upload it in three (3!!!!!) posts! even my shortest chapter of ego, at 8.8k, is 350 paragraphs, and i’d have to split it in two.

this is honestly a formatting nightmare as a writer, and this is a decision that is liable to drive content creators away from the site and change fandom culture as a whole. 

please. if you enjoy reading content on this site and want to continue enjoying content on this site, please don’t let tumblr make things harder for writers! since the tumblr team is supposedly eager to hear what everyone thinks, it would really help if you could message support and share your concern about the issue–maybe we can stop this disaster before it starts.

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can i get a tag in the T.A.? your writing is amazing!!!

hi love! and thank you!! 🥺 i can add a tag for you on the last two chapters i’ve posted!! there’s a sign up sheet in my bio that i usually copy from, so make sure you add yourself to be notified of future chapters! 💙

EDIT: i just tagged you in chapters one and two. DM me if you don’t see the tag and i’ll make a note to fix it in the morning!! ❣️

[spookysanta]

The TA - two. (h.c., c.e.)

Summary: everything about this situation is...weird.

Pairings: Professor!Chris Evans x Black!Reader, student!Henry Cavill x Black!Reader

WARNINGS: none

here’s part two! she’s a bit lengthy, fyi. enjoy! :)

UNEDITED

After a couple of days, she’d gotten used to the formality that is Professor Chris Evans (and company). She’d gotten used to the emails that open with, “I hope this message finds you well”, even though it rarely did.

So thanks, Chris, for the well-wishes but no thank you.

The first day of Fall classes was stressful, to say the least. She woke up later than she intended for her 8 a.m. class, then she got lost on her trip from one lecture hall to another, and by the time she had to get to Franklin for Chris’ class, she was practically running across campus. She burst into the lecture hall two minutes before class was set to begin. Walking to the main podium where Chris stood preparing for that day’s lecture, she breathed out, “Sorry I’m late.”

He turned to her with a smirk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just a bit of a rough day is all.” She waved him off, completely ignoring the loud slam of the lecture hall’s doors. A figure emerged next to her holding a tray of coffees from The Bistro.

“Good morning!” Henry greeted, clearly having a better day than she was. He offered Chris a cup, then set the tray down on the desk that sat adjacent to the presenter’s podium, taking the other two and offering one to her. She thanked him quietly. “You ready?” he asked Chris.

Chris laughed. And for the first time, she laughed along with him. And seeing it firsthand, she could tell they had a good relationship by the way they interacted. She could tell that Chris genuinely enjoys Henry’s company as his TA, and not just for the things that he does to be helpful—they have a good thing. “Yeah, I’m ready—I’m excited. Thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“No problem. It was on my way here.”

She felt out of place as they engaged in banter.

She looked around the steadily filling classroom and saw students from all walks of life; she’ll admit, that’s one of the only perks of college in her mind—there was always someone for everyone. There are all kinds of people from different races, religions, creeds—all gathering to pursue higher education. In that respect, she found college to be interesting. But in any other regard, she hated it.

Henry took note of her silence, “Are you excited, (Y/N)?”

She turned to him sharply, not having anticipated him addressing her so suddenly. She nodded curtly, “Yep.”

“You don’t sound like it.” Chris retorted as he set up his laptop to broadcast a slideshow on the projector screens that took up nearly all of the space on the wall behind them. “C’mon, this is going to be fun!”

She offered them a dry chuckle as she watched the screens illuminate with a bright white background and black lettering that read:

WELCOME TO CHEMISTRY 120, SECTION D346-0

PROFESSOR CHRIS EVANS, D. SC.

HENRY CAVILL AND (Y/N) (Y/L/N), GRADUATE AND UNDERGRADUATE TAs

Yeah, that’s totally not intimidating. “Ooh,” Henry nudged her with his elbow, “look at that—you’re official.” He turned to her, pointing an index finger at the screens. “Listen, this is going to be no big deal.”

“You sound like him.” She pointed to Chris, who was hooking up a small microphone that he would connect to his shirt.

“Well I mean it. You’ll be fine. The most we’re going to have to do is pass out papers and introduce ourselves—easy peasy.”

She hummed in understanding. “Mhm.” She took a big gulp from her coffee cup, its liquid now only warm from Henry’s commute. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Henry shrugged, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good morning, class.” Chris spoke into the microphone, his voice projecting through the speakers in the room. The chatter among students died down quickly. “I’m Professor Evans and welcome to Chemistry 120, section D346-0.” She noticed that he was like her—he fidgeted, too. His hands were behind his back, but she could see him fiddling with the remote that was in them. One hand was wrapped around his opposite wrist, and his free hand twirled the remote between his fingers.

“I’d like for my TAs to introduce themselves. They’ll be helping you a lot this semester.”

He took a handheld microphone from behind the podium and turned it on, handing it to Henry. “I’m Henry, I’m a graduate TA studying microbiology.” He stated with a muted wave. “I’ve been working with Professor Evans for about four semesters now, so I’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have.” He handed the microphone to her, his thumb brushing hers when she took it. Their eyes met briefly.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N). I’m an undergraduate student studying bio. This is my first semester as a TA for this class so I’m very excited to work with all of you.” There. That was easy enough. Henry looked to her with a small smile.

“Alright,” Chris spoke up after she handed him the microphone to be put away, “so I’ll be quick with the introductory stuff—I know no-one wants to hear me drone on about safety procedures for the next ninety minutes.” He gestured to a stack of papers that sat on the desk. “Could you pass those out?” he asked Henry and (Y/N) politely.

Henry nodded, effortlessly picking up the large stack of papers. He approached her and instructed in a whisper, “Take half.” She grabbed a substantial stack of papers, making her way across half of the lecture hall and handing students a sheet of paper going by rows, mimicking the movements that Henry made. They both made it to the middle; there they stood on a walkway that connected to the path that led to the front of the room. He followed behind her back to the podium as they awaited their next tasks.

“So, what you just got are information forms. We’re going to read them, go over the most important stuff, then at the end, you’ll sign them, and they’ll be collected.” Chris cleared his throat, beginning to read from the page, only really emphasizing the important aspects of the course.

She took a page off the stack, reading as he spoke. 

COURSE POLICIES:

No food/drink/snacks in the lecture hall or lab (water in a clear container is allowed)

No electronics of any kind are allowed in the lab

Late work will not be accepted in any capacity

All paper assignments must be turned in at the end of each class to TAs

Online work must be submitted before deadline—pages will close after the assigned time

Attendance (especially on lab days) is mandatory

All absences are considered unexcused unless otherwise authorized with a note or confirmation e-mail

Now it’s all come full circle for her. She can clearly see why a lot of his previous students called him a hard ass. And majority of the policies he listed, she doesn’t even plan to uphold herself. So how could she expect three-hundred students—freshmen, at that—to comply?

The policies were reasonable, sure, but hard to enforce.

He made sure to emphasize the dress code, late work, and attendance policies; it was apparent that those were real issues among his classes over the years. “Additionally,” he continued after having spoken without stopping for twenty minutes, “this is the only introductory chemistry class I’m teaching this semester, which means everything you submit will be read and graded. There are no grades for completion or participation.”

She heard several students groan. She leaned to Henry, “Wait. He teaches other classes?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered back, “He also teaches upper-level biology and organic chemistry, and he taught a statistics class last year but I’m not sure if he still does.”

Damn. No wonder he was so organized.

And she found that interesting; that definitely explained why he would have her and Henry do a lot of the grading for this class’ assignments. He probably didn’t have time to breathe in between classes, let alone grade three-hundred lab reports.

By the end of his class that seemed never-ending, she was absolutely exhausted. She was having daydreams of her cozy bed when Henry approached her after he finished collecting signed forms from his side of the classroom. “You alright?” Henry asked.

She stifled a yawn, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good class today, guys. I’m really excited for this semester.” Chris gushed, visibly happy with their help.

“Me, too.” Replied Henry. “I think this batch will be better than last semester’s.”

“Ugh. Don’t even get me started on last semester’s class.” He shook his head as he began to gather papers and his laptop into his bag. “I’ve never wanted to rip my hair out more than I did last semester.”

Henry laughed. “Trust me, I know.”

The two assistants prepared themselves to leave. Before they said their “goodbyes”, Chris asked them to meet with him in his office (as there was another class filing in).

“So,” Chris closed the door to his office, muffling the bustle of the room outside that was quickly filling up with the literature class that started right after theirs. “I wanted to know what you’ll be doing this weekend.”

“Um…” (Y/N) was confused. “Why?”

“Because I want to get a head start on grading these papers and entering everyone’s information into the database.” He pulled the stack of forms from his bag and clamped them together with a binder clip. “So, if you and Henry are free this weekend, that’d really help me out.”

“I’m not busy,” Henry shrugged. “I keep my weekends open anyway.”

She wasn’t busy either, but the weekend to work? This couldn’t wait until later?

“I’ll be free this weekend.” She kept her voice cheery but really regretted not lying when she had the chance.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together. “We’ll plan for a time for you to come over and we’ll knock it out in an hour or two.” Come over?

“Come over where?” she asked.

“Oh! My house.” Chris clarified, “When Henry and I had a lot of papers to grade, he usually comes over to my place early in the morning, we grade papers, and we go about our day. That’s not an issue for you, is it?”

“No, not at all.” It was a bit odd, though. But she’ll be honest in saying that she found all of this…odd in one way or another.

“Cool.” Henry looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going, I don’t want to miss tonight’s game.”

Chris’ eyes widened in realization. “Dammit.” He swore, “I forgot there was a game on tonight.” He stood and grabbed his things, going around his desk to the door, and ushering us out of his office. He shut and locked the door behind them. They walked swiftly and quietly across the front of the classroom and out the door to converse in the hallway. “Alright, you guys. Have a great rest of your day, and don’t hesitate to call me if you need me.” He waved, then turned and left through the faculty doors.

Henry looked at her. “You ready?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” Together, they walked leisurely down the stairs and out of the lecture hall, through the hustle of the “afternoon class rush”.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked for what seemed like the thousandth time today. “You’re quiet.”

“Do you think…” she paused, wanting to pick the right words to say. “do you think it’s—I don’t know—odd that Chris wants us to meet at his house to grade papers?”

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know, it just seems weird to me.” Someone who was on their phone bumped into her causing her to drop the books she was carrying. “Shit.” She went to grab her book, but Henry picked it up for her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He opened the doors to the lecture hall, where they looked outside and saw that it was pouring. “Wow, it’s really comin’ down out there.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t bring an umbrella.” She groaned out loud. “Fuck my life.”

Henry laughed at her misery, “You need a ride?”

“Your car’s fixed?”

“Yeah.” He fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. “I took it to the shop after our meeting. Obviously I had to call a tow truck before I could get it to the mechanic’s, but I got it there eventually. It’s doing great now in case you were wondering—it almost runs perfectly.”

“I wasn’t.” she gave him a thin-lipped smile. “Thanks for the information, though.”

“Whatever.” He scoffed playfully. “You want a ride or not?”

She really shouldn’t. This guy, as holy as he is in the eye of the Almighty Chris, could be a monster. He could be a serial killer. He could be plotting to attack her—she’d lost count of how many news stories she’s read about kidnappings on college campuses—and who knows, she could be on his list.

But then again, it was pouring outside, and the walk back to her apartment was long. The air was getting cooler and combined with the darkness of the sky and the time of day, she’d end up with the flu by the end of the afternoon.

“Fine.”

He took his jacket from his shoulders and handed it to her. “Here.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Put it on.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You need it more than me, okay? So put the jacket on.” He commanded.

She didn’t like that he didn’t ask nicely, but she did it anyway. And she wouldn’t tell him out loud, but goodness, his jacket smelled good. Like every kind of good smell that someone would want on a man combined with the smell of men’s shampoo in the hood, she was in heaven. She tried not to let it show but she made sure to take deep inhales through her nose as they journeyed to his car.

They exited the lecture hall, running down the slippery cobblestone sidewalk like the rest of the students in their avoidance of getting wet from the impending storm. He guided her to his car, opening the door for her, then climbed in the driver’s seat. “Whew,” he breathed, buckling his seatbelt. “that was interesting.”

His car was quite nice. She’d expected it to be really junky and out of shape—because of the godforsaken breakdown—but it was surprisingly clean and smelled good, too. Not in a cologne way, but in a “detailed car” way.

“Yeah, it was.” She replied, also trying to catch her breath from running, “You have a nice car.”

“Thank you. I was trying to tell you that earlier, but you didn’t want to believe me.”

“No, I didn’t.” she laughed. “You proved me wrong.”

He revved the engine. “So, where to?”

“Brookwood Heights.”

“Shut up.” He all but exclaimed, his eyes widening to the size of Mars. “I live there!”

Oh, that’s great.

“Really? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, that’s so funny!” he pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the busy street. “What a small world.”

They managed to get to their apartment complex without issue. He helped her get all her belongings out of the car, then grabbed his and locked his car before they went inside, the cool air of the complex’s lobby almost smacking them in the face. They trudged to the elevator, entering the small box and leaning against the guardrails in exhaustion. She pressed the 3 on the keypad. “What floor?”

Not looking up from his phone, he mumbled, “3.”

Are you kidding me?

“That’s my floor.”

His head snapped up. “So, we’re floormates, huh?” he smirked.

“I guess so.”

The elevator dinged and they stepped out. It seemed like they were deliberately walking slowly down the hall so that they could see where the other person would drop off, but they just kept walking side-by-side until they got to the very end of the hall. She stopped in front of her door. “Well, this is me.”

He stood at the door across the hall from hers and pointed at the number, “This is me.”

So, they’re neighbors.

They’re co-workers…and now they’re neighbors.

Because of course, life can’t get any more cliché than it already is.

“See you around?” he called to her once he unlocked his front door.

“Yeah, see you around.” She waved with a small smile, opening her front door and stepping into her abode.

Damn, she missed her apartment today. She tossed her keys in the bowl by the door and took off her wet shoes. Then she set her bag on the adjacent counter. She shuffled off her jacket—

Wait.

This wasn’t her jacket. She didn’t wear a jacket today. It was Henry’s jacket.

She wanted to yell. She didn’t feel like being social anymore today. She decided to set the jacket on the coat rack by the front door; that way she’ll be able to bring it to him in the morning. She went to her bedroom and stripped from her wet clothes, going into the restroom and starting a shower.

Finally.

*

The following days were surprisingly good. She didn’t gripe and moan about the weather—it was rainy every morning that week—Henry rapped on her front door at the same time and offered to drive her to Franklin Hall. Some days, she accepted, and they even stopped at The Bistro if they had the time. Some days she didn’t, and those were the days where Henry seemed more on edge, only to visibly settle when he saw her enter the classroom or laboratory.

Today was Saturday; today was the day that she had to meet at Chris’ house to grade the lab reports from Tuesday and Thursday’s classes.

She wasn’t particularly excited about it.

She had to get up early because Chris wanted to get started at nine a.m., which was ungodly early for a Saturday—or any day, really.

Three knocks sounded sharply on her front door, “You ready?” Henry’s voice bellowed through the wood.

She rushed, opening the front door. “Almost.” She shuffled on a hoodie over her t-shirt, stepping aside. “Come in.”

He entered wordlessly and sat on the first chair he saw, which just so happened to have his jacket laying across the back. “So, I’m assuming this is yours now?”

She looked at the item he was holding. “Shit!” she exclaimed. “I meant to give that back. I’m sorry.”

He chuckled at her demeanor, “It’s fine. It’s bad out today, so I don’t mind if you need it.”

“I should be fine, thank you,” she forced her feet into a pair of sneakers, fighting to get her index finger from between the shoe’s fabric and the heel of her foot. “plus, I don’t want to hog your stuff.”

“You’re not hogging anything. If you need it, wear it.”

“But it’s yours.” She threw on her backpack, grabbing her keys, phone and wallet from the bowl by the front door. “Take it.”

“No.” he laid it back in its original position on the chair. “Give it back once the storm passes, okay? I’m just looking out for you.”

She rolled her eyes, but it made her smile anyway, “Fine. Thank you.” She opened the front door and practically shoving him out of her apartment and down the hall.

“You’re welcome.”

She’s not sure what’s happening. She’s started to like Henry’s company. Her goal when everything started was to remain polite and formal, and now…she thinks of him as a friend—which was not her plan.

They rode in a comfortable silence to Chris’ house. He could tell she was stressed. “Are you okay?”

“I guess.” Her shoulders shrugged, the fabric of her hoodie rubbing against her seatbelt. “I still think going to Chris’ house to grade papers is weird.”

“Nah,” he retorted, “it’s really casual. He makes a pot of coffee, and he even made me breakfast once. It doesn’t usually take long either—in and out.”

“So, I have nothing to be worried about?” she asked, their eyes meeting when he stopped at a red light. “This isn’t a setup for the two of you murder me, right?”

“If I wanted to murder you, I’ve had ample opportunities before today to do so.”

As if that’s reassuring.

“Thanks for sparing my life, I guess.” She muttered.

“Seriously, though. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. And if you get uncomfortable, I’ll say my apartment flooded and we’ll leave. Okay?”

She snorted, “Flooded?”

“Flooded. On fire. Intruder. My cat died. I’ll make something up.” He turned into a neighborhood of houses, pulling into a driveway behind a blue SUV, and shifting the car’s gear into “park”. “Say the word and we’ll leave, no questions asked.”

She nodded. She felt the slightest bit better about the situation. She didn’t really know if it was because he was so willing to drive her home, or if it was because he was so willing to drive her home just to keep her comfortable. Nonetheless, she appreciated it. “Okay.”

He reached behind him and pulled his shoulder bag from behind her seat. “And then, when we’re done, we can go to The Bistro and load up on cookies.”

“Their cookies are good…”

“Easily the best cookies I’ve had in a while. So, don’t do this because we’re required to, do this for the incentive of sugar.” He looked at her. “Lots and lots of sugar.”

They got out of his car with their bags and trudged up the driveway’s pavement, him following behind her to the front door. He emerged next to her and rang the doorbell.

Chris opened the door with a smile, “Hey.”

Not to mention, he wasn’t dressed like a professor at all. He was wearing grey sweatpants along with a cobalt blue zip-up jacket that was opened, showing off the white tank top he had on underneath.

And let’s not forget about the cross necklace—a minor addition, but still very important to the outfit.

“Good morning!” Henry cheered.

“Morning.” She greeted timidly.

Henry allowed her to step into the threshold of Chris’ home first. He entered, too, commenting, “Ooh. It smells good in here.”

“You caught me while I was making myself some pancakes—are you guys hungry?”

“I could eat.” Replied Henry as he plopped himself onto the couch in the front room, setting his bag on the coffee table before he sat down.

Chris looked to her, “Pancakes?” he asked simply with a point.

“Sure.” She shuffled off her backpack and sat next to Henry on the opposite end of the couch. “Let’s get this over with.” She muttered to herself. She unpacked her bag and set her laptop on the coffee table.

Not a few moments later, the two of them heard Chris shout from the kitchen, “Pancakes!”

Henry hopped up from his seat. He held out his hand in front of her, “C’mon.”

She took it and allowed him to pull her up…his hands were soft. Calloused at the knuckles, but soft, nonetheless. She almost hesitated to let go. But she did, regrettably. She followed him into the kitchen and took a plate from the stack on the counter next to the stove. Henry wasted no time in stacking his plate high with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon, drowning everything in sticky maple syrup.

She, however, was a bundle of nerves, so she didn’t grab much—only two pancakes and two strips of bacon for herself. Henry balanced his plate, a handful of silverware, and a cup of coffee in his muscular arms and walked carefully back to the living room.

“You sure that’s all you want?” Chris asked, pointing to her plate as he poured the hot coffee from the carafe and into a large mug. “There’s plenty to go around.”

She shook her head politely, “I think I’m good for now.” She took a mug from the counter and held it out to him. “Could you pour me some, please?”

“Of course.” He poured the coffee into her mug a bit more than halfway. He offered her milk from the refrigerator, and she took it, pouring into her mug leisurely. He watched her and said almost in a mumble, “So…how are you liking things?”

“What things?” she replied.

“The position. The class itself—hell, your classes. How are you getting on?”

“Good, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I like the job a lot, and working with you guys. My classes are hard this semester—I don’t know what it is, but for some reason, Calculus seems so much more difficult than I remember.”

“Who do you have for that class?” he took a long sip from his mug, leaning his back comfortably against the countertop. “Mackie?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “He assigns so much work, I can barely keep up. And his class is in Jackson Hall—on the other side of campus—so I basically have to run to his class in order to get there on time if Henry doesn’t drive me.”

“Henry drives you to class?”

Out of all she said, that’s what he clung to?

“Yeah, most days. Apparently, we’re neighbors in the same complex, and he has a class in Jackson at the same time as mine. I don’t have a car and he does, so it just made sense.”

Chris hummed. “Well, I’m good friends with Mackie; he and I were actually roommates in undergrad. So if you need me to, I can put in a word.”

“A word?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Your studies are important, but so is your job. So if you need to be excused from his class every now and again, or you need help catching up, I can help you.”

“Oh.” She pondered for a moment. She needed this job, yes, but not so much that she feels the need to fall behind on her schoolwork to keep Chris company. “Well, I think I’m fine for now, but thank you for the offer.”

“Sure. Anything to help.” He patted a hand on her shoulder, squeezing her flesh, then left the kitchen.

She sat back on the couch next to Henry and timidly ate her breakfast while he and Chris engaged in conversation about the upcoming events in the area.

We do shoulder rubs now? She asked in her brain. He seemed almost…flirty? And when I mentioned Henry driving me to class, he visibly almost tensed. What was that about?

“Yeah, I think it’s a great idea for the two of you to go.”

That’s when she started to pay attention. “Go to what?”

“There are student tutoring sessions in Hampton Hall for all undergraduate classes. Generally, I don’t make my students attend because there aren’t any undergraduate TAs in my class. But now, you’re here, so my class is on the roster.” Then, he muttered, “And Henry can take you.”

She nodded, taking her planner out of her bag. “When are they?”

“Thursdays at three. I’ve been told that they usually run about an hour, so it won’t take up all your afternoon. Then, you and Henry can do…whatever.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, eyes glancing to her, then back to Chris.

That was strange.

She didn’t question it. She was eager to finish grading her set of papers so that she could shove Henry out the door, get their cookies—that he suggested, and thus, will pay for—and head home to sleep the rest of her day away.

It took them a total of two hours to finish grading that week’s lab reports and put them into Chris’ online gradebook, and put the students’ information into a spreadsheet. After they cleared their trash and put their plates and silverware into the kitchen sink, she all but threw her belongings into her backpack. Henry put his bag over his shoulder, bushing a piece of hair behind his ear. “Well,” Henry began, taking his car keys from his front pocket and twirling the keychain around his index finger. “we should get going.”

“Sure. I don’t want to keep the two of you busy.” Chris replied as he ushered his two assistants to the front door, his tone not displaying any care for taking up the early part of their afternoon. “Have a great weekend, guys. See you Monday.”

They left and walked quietly side-by-side to Henry’s car. He backed out of the driveway and sped out of the neighborhood and down the street. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked her.

“I guess.”

“You guess?” he repeated, “What makes you unsure?”

She almost hesitated to mention it. But there was no logical way Henry didn’t pick up on Chris’ comments throughout their time there. “Chris was just acting weird, is all.”

“Define weird.”

“He kept saying things about you and me carpooling, and he even offered to excuse me from my Calc class with Mackie.” She suddenly found her fingers much more interesting to look at than the road in front of them. “And he touched my shoulder. He squeezed my shoulder, actually.”

“You think he was acting out of the ordinary…because he touched your shoulder?”

“No! Well, yes, but he seemed upset when I told him that you and I carpool, and that’s what caught me off guard.”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t think it’s professional.”

“If he didn’t think it was professional, he would’ve said so, instead of making snide comments.”

He parked the car in front of The Bistro, then turned it off and turned to her. “Maybe he doesn’t like us hanging out.”

Hanging out? Is that what he called it?

The two of them got out of the car and walked into the cold coffee shop, standing in line behind the last patron. “I don’t know,” she said lowly so as to not disturb the other customers with their conversation. “I just think that it doesn’t make sense for him to be so…intrusive.”

He looked at her. “Do you want me to say something?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “If it’s not what I think it is, he may get offended.”

“I don’t think he will.” It was soon their turn to order. “Six chocolate chip cookies, please.” He pulled out his wallet and paid for their snacks in cash, then moved to the other side of the counter to pick them up. He handed them to her, “Here.”

“Thank you.”

The two sat at a table—a similar table to the one they first sat at together, but this one was by the floor-to-ceiling windows. He opened the parchment bag the cookies were in and handed her one. “I will say,” he started with his mouth full, “he seemed off today.”

“See? I knew it—”

“But that doesn’t mean he’s being gross, alright? Everyone has an off-day every now and then.”

The two sat in silence after that. He watched students and professors alike walk past The Bistro, some of them entering the café to enjoy pastries and coffee like they were. He began to bounce his leg on the ball of his foot; something, she noticed, that he couldn’t help but do when he was deep in thought. Either that, or sitting cross-legged and wiggling his foot back and forth.

He cannot sit still. Neither can she usually—but it’s apparent that since she’s met him, he made her feel more comfortable…safe, even. She doesn’t pick at her fingers nearly as much.

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” he asked her after a few moments of them silently people-watching. “Are you uncomfortable around him?”

“Not really.” She replied, not knowing exactly how she felt about Chris. She was intrigued by him, yes; she found him attractive, certainly; but she still didn’t know him. And because of that, she seemed to be more on edge when speaking to him. Henry wasn’t anything like that.

“A part of me just has a feeling that he’s coming onto me.”

He coughed, almost choking on his lemonade. “Like, romantically?”

“Yeah. That’s what it seems like.”

He hummed in response. He got up and threw away his trash and hers, offering a hand to help her stand. They soon left The Bistro. He opened the car door for her, then pulled out of the parking lot.

The atmosphere shifted. She knew that there was some form of attraction towards him from her, but was it reciprocated? She didn’t know, but judging by the way his eyebrows were persistent in their angry furrowing, there was something wrong with what she said at the restaurant.

They eventually got back to their complex. He didn’t say a word to her on their trek from the lot to their hallway. “G’night.” He said simply, unlocking his front door and shutting it behind him.

***

Tags (DM to be removed): @lady-x-red  @justtwhst  @lokisbitch27 @boundtomyfate​  @cyberdoshee  @liquorlaughslove @heroine-of-color

[spookysanta]

bike ride. (G.D.) (blurb)

Summary: gigi and her daddy sneak a bike ride while her mama’s at work.

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

WARNINGS: bad writing, v short

helloooooo :) just a quick cute lil post to officially end my hiatus. enjoy!

a big thank you to @not-gbd for sending me this adorable concept.

UNEDITED

**

“Bunny, I need you to listen to me, okay?” Grayson knelt in front of the little girl that sat at the edge of the couch, a thick plastic helmet adorning her head. “This is important.”

“Portant. Okay, daddy.” She nodded.

“So, we’re going to try something new today.” He fastened the kneepads to her body, making sure the Velcro wrapped around her knees tight, but not too tight. “Daddy got you a bike.”

“Bike?” She gasped. “Is it pink?”

“It is pink, cookie.��� He laughed, picking her up and setting her to stand on the floor. “You wanna ride your bike?”

“Yesyesyes!”

“Okay, so here’s what’s gonna happen, honey, and this is the important part—mama doesn’t know about the bike. So we’re gonna ride it while she’s at work, but we can’t tell her it’s here.”

“Why no, daddy?” That was weird in her mind. Mama knows everything. Well, at least, that’s what Gigi was under the impression of—in reality, little girl and her dad get into most of their hijinks when her mama isn’t at home.

(Y/N) and Grayson have had the conversation about Gigi getting a bike, and they—well, she—came to the conclusion that their daughter didn’t need a bike because she was still too small.

(Y/N) was terrified of the idea of Gia riding down the sidewalk and losing control of her feet on the pedals, then an injury happens, and…it’s an unneeded stressor in their lives.

But Grayson thought, she’s a kid, she’s bound to get hurt, and a skinned elbow or two will build character. So last week when he went out to the tires rotated on his Porsche, he bought the toddler a bike and hid it in the shed.

“Because… it’s a surprise.” He shrugged. Sure, that’ll do.

“Oooooh. I like dat, daddy. Prise mama.”

The pair walked—well, as much walking as Gia could do with bright pink kneepads—to the front of the house, where a sickeningly pink training bike sat. It had matching pink ribbons dangling from the handlebars and an iridescent pouch attached to the front. There were white training wheels attached to the back wheel of the bike, which he was certain she wouldn’t enjoy but would (obviously) need.

“Bike’s pretty, daddy!” She cheered, hopping from foot to foot with excitement. She ran to it and sat herself on the seat.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Mhm. Like Barbie.”

“Well, let’s get you situated, and we can ride down the block together, how’s that sound?”

She nodded happily. “Okay!”

He dug up his bike from the depths of the garage—and the depths it was in, the bike was shoved away after he decided to make the garage his building station—and put on his helmet. He got Gigi onto her bike and made sure she was comfortable, then got on his. He closed the garage and opened the security gate for them to ride down the street of Downtown Los Angeles.

“Fun, daddy!” She shouted as she rode in front of him on the sidewalk. She giggled as the breeze flew through her curly mane.

“It is fun, baby,” he agreed with a chuckle, “keep pedalin’, cookie, I’m gonna get ya!”

She squealed and pedaled faster, but not so fast that her daddy couldn’t keep up with her.

But what he didn’t notice while watching her, was his baby blue Porsche—driven by his wife, who he was trying to avoid—drive past them in the opposite direction. Her eyes squinted at them as she slowed down, making sure that she did, in fact, see her husband and daughter riding down the block.

The two of them stopped at the corner of the sidewalk. “Hold on, baby.” He gently grabbed her arm to keep her still, pulling his ringing phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. “Mama’s calling.”

“Ooh.”

He answered the call. “Hey, honey.”

“Where are you?” She replied, disregarding his greeting.

“We’re out.... on a walk.” Did she see us? He thought.

Of course she did, but she wasn’t going to let him know that right now. “A walk.” She repeated. “Okay, just checking.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m on my way home, that’s all. I wanted to see what you wanted for dinner.”

“Whatever’s fine.” He shrugged.

“Where’s cookie?”

“Hang on, I’ll pass her the phone.” He handed the phone to the toddler.

“Hi, mama!”

“Hi, my love. How are you?”

“Fine. Out with daddy.”

“Really?”

He pleaded in his mind for her to not spill the beans, because he didn’t want to hear from (Y/N) about how he went behind her back to buy Gia a bike. “Yup.”

“That’s good, bunny. Have fun with daddy and I’ll see you when you get home, okay?”

“Kay, mama. Lub you.”

“I love you, too, bug.”

Gigi passed the phone back to Grayson. “Here, daddy.”

He put the phone to his ear. “So I’ll see you in a bit?”

“Mhm. You’ll see me alright.”

Uh-oh.