#//but i really should lean into the other pronouns more heavily in aus

[troublcmakcrs]

you'll learn right now , i don't play nice / and if you hurt me once , 𝙄'𝙇𝙇 𝙆𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙏𝙒𝙄𝘾𝙀 ! / and i won't go first ( 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝔀 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 ) / 'cause i'm the last bitch up , ＴＨＥ ＦＩＮＡＬ ＧＩＲＬ ！

finalgirl!tweek to go with @feldspar-thethief's ghostface!craig au lol

[kaciidubs]

Talk Dirty [Like You Need Love]

This song has me thinking heavily about expanding this into a fuller fic, so if people end up liking it, maybe I'll go ahead and finish it further! ✧ Summary: Chris was a great friend, picking you up from work whenever you had a late shift - so, it was only fair that you wanted to repay him. ✧  ✧ Word Count: 3.5k ✧ Warnings: Biker!AU, friends to ???, smut, slight dom! Chris, open ended ✧  ✧ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ✧  ✧ Additional Tags: Reader is referred to as Baby, Good Girl, Pretty, Chris is referred to as Baby, Channie ✧ Stray Kids Masterlist ✧ General Masterlist

The streetlights came and went in intermittent strobes, passing over the two of you as his motorcycle hummed along the sparsely occupied street.

Your arms were wrapped securely around his waist just as he’d taught you, the warmth of your body against his back combating the chill of the crisp night air - he really wished he hadn’t forgotten his hoodie in his rush to pick you up.

“Are you cold?” 

As if reading his mind, your voice floated through the comms of his helmet and he shook his head, “I’m alright, baby - don’t worry about me.”

Of course, you weren’t easily swayed - it was a quality he loved about you, no matter how much he preferred to be the one to look out for everyone else, you were always there to double back on him with undeterrable determination; proved by the way you leaned a little more against his back.

He wouldn’t have thought twice about your sweet gesture if it weren’t for the shifting of your arms, your hands slowly splayed against his torso.

“I always worry about you, Chris…” Your voice was soft, dripping with sweet honey as your right hand wandered its way higher, following the soft defined path of his chest underneath his shirt. “It’s hard not to, if I’m honest.”

He took a short breath, unsure if this was truly happening or if his mind was playing tricks on him and twisting your intentions to fit his deep seated desires.

That is, until your left hand carefully danced its way to his thigh, sitting nicely against the cotton of his sweatpants.

“You always do so much for everyone else- do so much for me,” your hand flexed, nails pressing lightly against his thigh, “I just wanna do something for you in return, you know?”

The bike slowed to a roll as you reached a stoplight, Chris keeping the balance with his otherwise unoccupied leg while taking the opportunity to hold onto the outside of your own thigh.

“Be careful with your words, baby - you might give me the wrong idea.”

“Are my actions not enough?” You murmured, inching your hand higher, fingertips brushing along the inseam of his sweats, “Should I do more, Channie?”

His hand left the brake clutch to wrap around your wrist, electricity flowing through your veins like a completed circuit. “You shouldn’t do this. We shouldn’t do this.”

“But I want this, I need this.”

Your hand squeezed, your voice filling his head like the intoxicating lull of a siren’s call.

“I need you.”

Green.

Chris tapped your thigh, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine when you seamlessly went back to holding onto him just like he taught you; arms around his waist, your body against his back.

The ride to his apartment felt like second nature with you - much like other things he did with you, if he were honest with himself - and the moment he pulled into his parking spot, his movements only felt more natural.

Switch engine off. Kickstand down.

Your hands slid up his back, gripping his shoulders as you eased yourself off of his motorcycle, and by the time your touch left him, Chris hopped from his seat with learned grace - his hands unbuckling and taking off his helmet in record time.

By the time your own helmet was off, cradled in your arms, his intense gaze caught your eyes, locking you in a stare off that said more than words could convey, yet their true meaning would be lost to memory with what left his lips.

“Are you sure about this?” He breathed, “Tell me right now and I’ll take you home, and we can pretend none of this happened - just, tell me.”

“Chris,” his name fluttered from your lips like butterfly wings, “I meant every word, I’m sure, I’m so sure-”

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours - the warmth of his palm settling on your cheek in a hold that dared your knees to give out from underneath you - but as fast as they’d appeared, they vanished, leaving you dazedly blinking up at deep brown eyes.

“C’mon.”

The journey up to his apartment was a blur; the melodic chime of the front door’s lock welcoming you to the final stage of your decision as he ushered you through the doorway.

Shoes haphazardly kicked off next to another pile of pairs and helmets stored on a shelf, the empty living room was graced with your presence for what felt like half a second before you were finally where you needed to be.

Chris’s room was a place you’d only been inside of a handful of times, if not to stick your head in to announce your arrival when hanging out with his roommates, then to visit whenever he had a new snippet of a song he wanted to share; there wasn’t a chance for a tour then, and there certainly wouldn’t be a tour now.

With a subtle flick of a switch, the once dark room was suddenly bathed in a dim glow from the led lights lining the ceiling - warm and welcoming, much like the arms that wrapped around you from behind, followed by a soft pair of lips you were quickly getting used to pressing against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His hold grew tighter as his lips ventured higher - a dotted line of kisses, a brush of his breath against the back of your ear, followed by the ghost of his lips along the shell. 

“Are you still sure?”

Your eyelids fluttered, your lips parting to sigh out words evoked from the fantasies of your deepest desires, “I’m yours.”

He turned you around, and for the first time you were able to truly appreciate the feeling of his lips against your own - soft, likely from the myriad of lip care products your friends tease him for, a sensation you could find yourself craving every day and never growing tired of in the end.

You kissed him back with fervor, taking the liberty of cupping the line of his jaw with one hand while the other cradled the back of his neck, the faint curls of his hair tickling your fingertips.

Chris was the first to pull away, gifting you a fleeting peck when you tried in vain to follow him, just to reach overhead and tug his shirt up and off before unceremoniously dropping it to the floor. However, he barely gave you the chance to admire the view as his hands went to help you out of your hoodie while your own hands hastily went to tug up your shirt in the messy, frantic process.

Two articles down, the warmth of his hands were now free to meet your waist and his lips were on yours once more; his hold tightening as he took a step forward, nudging and guiding you backward until the backs of your legs met the edge of his bed. Obliging to his silent request, you sat down, using the strength in your arms to wiggle yourself up enough to lay comfortably on the full sized mattress and welcome the weight of him on top of you until it wasn’t.

Looking up, you were met with his heated stare, all but devouring you with his eyes as he took in the view - though, you figured you fared the same way when your eyes ventured down, following the strong slope of his shoulders before taking in the sight of his chest.

It wasn’t a view you hadn’t seen before thanks to his aversion of shirts in his own home - granted, it was his apartment, so you couldn’t fault him for the times he’d come out of his room to see you happily chatting away with his roommates unbeknownst to him - but you could now appreciate the details you wouldn’t have taken in otherwise such as defined pectorals and the smallest beginnings of abs against his otherwise soft stomach.

Ending the unintentional standoff, Chris lent forward, his fingertips just barely grazing your lower stomach as they went to the button of your jeans, “Can I?”

“Please.”

The corner of his lips ticked up but he ducked his head before you could see the smirk blossom, though you couldn’t find yourself to care once your jeans were undone, lifting your hips to help him shuffle the garment down the length of your legs and watching him give them the same fate as your shirts.

“These too?” He mused with a teasing lilt, eyes flicking from your own to the plain black panties you wore.

A short huff brushed past your lips, an unamused pout pursuing them. “Chris.”

The sound of his delighted giggles bounced off the walls, reducing the heat of arousal to a nice simmer that your nerves greatly appreciated - that is, until his fingers hooked underneath the waistband and slowly pulled them off; the sensation of his knuckles dragging along your thighs drawing a soft gasp from you.

It wasn’t long until they were down your legs, past your feet, and dropped off the edge of the bed, leaving you entirely bare from the waist down.

“Fuck…” He breathed, propping his knee on the bed as his hands slid up from your calves to the backs of your knees, caressing your skin before gently bringing them up and out - exposing your pussy to his pure delight. “Look at you, pretty girl.”

A wave of heat washed over you followed by an embarrassed whimper, “Chris, don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Looking up, he cocked his head slightly, “You said you were mine, which means I’m allowed to compliment what’s mine, yeah?” He bent down, maintaining eye contact as he kissed your knee softly, “You belong to me, right, baby?”

Your heart jumped to your throat, his words working like a spell against your lust addled mind.

“I belong to you.” You breathed softly, melting into his hypnotizing gaze.

A pleased hum vibrated through him as he dipped his head to kiss the inside of your thigh, his lips brushing against your skin, “Good girl.”

His kisses trailed higher and higher, growing messier and messier as he went - a nip here, a suck there, open mouthed and worshiping until he reached your pussy.

Just as he was about to dive in face first, your hand tugged at his hair, effectively breaking him out of his tunnel vision to give you his undivided attention.

“What’s wrong? Do you wanna stop? I can-”

“No! God, no - it’s just…” You took a deep breath, your bravado escaping you the instant you stopped him, “I want you to eat me out, but I wanna suck your dick too. I wanna make you feel good too, Channie”

“You wanna suck my dick, pretty?” A shiver ran down Chris’s spine at the mere thought, his dick painfully straining underneath his boxer briefs and sweats. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? Words like that coming from a mouth like yours - you’re a fucking dream.”

His presence left from between your legs and part of you felt silly for missing it until you saw him reaching for his sweatpants - even through the black fabric you were able to make out the noticeable bulge tenting the front - the waistband of Calvin Klein nudging you in the right direction of what he wore underneath.

Pushing both articles past his hips, your eyes were immediately glued to the dips in his pelvis - the Adonis belt, a fitting alternate description of his v-line until your attention jumped to a scattering of hair beneath his navel leading to seemingly maintained pubic hair.

However, your peep show was obscured by his head as he bent forward to take his clothes off the rest of the way, giving you the chance to mentally prepare for the grand reveal. By the time he stood straight again, you couldn’t help the audible gasp that left you, your eyes widening as you took him in all his glory - all of the jokes his friends would make now having validity behind their digs.

“I hope that’s a good reaction…” Chris spoke sheepishly, his ears as red as a tomato as he averted his eyes to the side, one hand twitching to cover himself while the other anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Chris,” your soft call was enough to bring his eyes back to you, just in time to see you undoing your bra and tossing it to the floor, “I really want you in my mouth, baby.”

The air of shyness quickly left him as he smirked, making his way back onto the bed, “Say please.”

Reaching forward, your fingers danced along the underside of his jaw before you whispered, “Please?”

It was almost instantaneous in the way you found yourself straddled over his face, his hands massaging the plush of your thighs as if he couldn’t get enough of the way they squished and jiggled under his hold.

You leaned forward, eyes eagerly taking in his dick from the new angle; he was thick, probably an inch over average if you had to guess, with the prettiest veins that begged for your tongue to trace them.

“Don’t force yourself to take me, okay?” He called from the other end, the feeling of his breath against your cunt sending chills down your spine. “I know I’m… y’know, big, so I don’t want you to hurt yourself to make me feel good - you letting me do this is more than enough, baby.”

“I can do it Channie,” spitting into your palm, you graciously took him into your hand with a slow stroke, “I’ll be okay.”

A low groan escaped him, your sudden touch sending him into the stratosphere, “Just- Be careful for me, alright?”

Humming in agreement, you wasted no time in littering his tip in butterfly kisses and kitten licks, slowly getting yourself used to the bittersweet taste of his precum.

“Shit…” Not holding himself back any longer, Chris slid his hands up to your hips before pulling you back onto his mouth, his tongue eagerly diving between your folds as if it were an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day.

The action made you jolt forward, though you barely moved an inch thanks to his hold on you, your lips parting to let a moan float through.

“Mm, not too loud, baby,” he spoke against your pussy, kissing the hood of your clit, “don’t wanna wake up my roommates, yeah?”

As much as the idea called to something daring within you, you shook your head, using this as an opportunity to take the first few inches of his cock into your mouth; just enough to have the weight settle on your tongue while your hand stroked what you hadn’t gotten to yet.

“There you go.”

With that, he went back to exploring your pussy with his tongue, dipping past your walls every now and then before going back to dancing around your clit - his hands enjoying their new home on the curve of your ass.

To say the feeling of his mouth on you was mind numbing would’ve been the understatement of a lifetime - it was as if he was eating you out in the most respectfully disrespectful way, the sounds of his lips sucking your clit paired with low, breathless moans before he went back to lapping up your arousal was pure debauchery.

You tried your best to be diligent, bobbing your head in time with the curls of his tongue against your slit while your fist used whatever drool that dripped from your lips as lubricant to keep each stroke smooth and slick - your efforts not going in vain by the way his thigh would flex, or the twitch of his hips - but you were quickly falling victim to the pleasure.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he mouthed against your pussy, as if moving even an inch away would be detrimental to his psyche, “could stay here forever.”

The thought had you moaning around his cock, pulling away to give your lungs the reprieve of a full breath, only for a whined exhale to follow suit. “C-Chris, please.”

“Please, what?” Flattening his tongue, he licked a fat stripe up before giving your clit the lightest kiss imaginable, “Gonna come for me, pretty? Is that what you want?”

“N-No,” dropping your face to his thigh, you focused all of your energy into keeping your hand moving, “w-wanna make you come first, just- shit, just slow down a little!”

Chris hummed, feigning deep consideration, “But what if I want you to come for me?” His right hand slid further between your legs, his index finger stroking your fluttering walls with the promise of something more, “You said you wanted to repay me - so, let me make you come.”

Your hips bucked, muscles yearning to press back against the pressure to send you over the edge you were dangerously teetering over. “But-”

“Baby,” the velvet drawl of the pet name earned a pitiful hum in response, “you wanna make me feel good, don’t you?” He felt your head nod against his thigh, huffing out a short chuckle before continuing, “You wanna ‘repay’ me for everything I do for you, right?”

“Yes.” You sighed out, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his thumb replacing his finger in favor of toying with your clit.

“Well, guess what?” Dragging his thumb up, he pressed it against your slit, “Watching you come for me- Feeling you come for me is all I could ever want from you,” slowly pushing his thumb past your walls, he ghosted his lips against your inner thigh, “show me how good I’m making you feel, baby - do it for me, please.”

He punctuated his plea by swirling his tongue around your clit once more, thrusting his thumb in time with each flick while his left hand held your hip tightly.

Your mouth fell open, a moan fighting its way through your vocal chords only to come out as choked gasps, “Ch-ah- Channie- Fuck- Channie p-please-”

Pressing his thumb in to the knuckle, Chris wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, humming out a low moan that proved to be the final straw to push you over the edge.

“Chris- C-Chris-!” Lifting your head, you put your mouth over your arm in hopes of muffling the airy moans escaping you, your vision blurring behind pleasure-fueled tears as he worked you through your orgasm.

His thumb slipped from your entrance to make room for his tongue to lap up your cum, drinking you up like a tall glass of water after a day in the sun.

It didn’t take long for you to catch your bearings, going to move away from his face until his hands tightened on your hips in silent challenge, a disgruntled grunt rising from your pure audacity of interrupting him.

“Channie, ‘s too much,” you whined breathlessly, wrenching your hand away from his - still hard - dick in favor of pushing yourself up onto your arms, “c-can’t take it, baby, please.”

Pulling away with a lewd slurp, Chris heaved a heavy breath, combating the lightheadedness of his tunnel vision while you carefully maneuvered yourself away from him - shuffling around to hover your head over a pillow before collapsing in the empty space, your body gratefully welcoming the cool sheets against your skin.

Bated breaths danced in the otherwise quiet atmosphere, Chris’s gaze locked on the ceiling as his lust-fogged brain tried to make sense of what just happened between the two of you.

“Channie?”

His heart fluttered at your soft call of his name, turning his head just to come across a sight that made his breath catch; you, his friend, laying beside him looking beautifully ruined with the golden afterglow of your orgasm that he gave you emanating from your body.

He tentatively licked his lips, goosebumps rising as your taste still lingered in his mouth, “Yeah, baby?”

“I still wanna make you come.” You murmured softly, eyes blinking at him so innocently it almost felt wrong that it made his dick twitch at the sight. “I still owe you, after all.”

Chris huffed out a chuckle, lifting himself onto his forearm before hoisting himself above you, settling his hips between your legs as he caged you in with his arms - this was a sight he could get used to.

“Instead of making this out to be you repaying a debt, how about we turn it into a ‘thank you’ gift, hm?” Leaning his head down, he brushed his nose against yours, “You thank me for the ride and the orgasm,” his lips ghosted against your own, “then I thank you for thanking me.”

“Chris, that won’t make any sense,” your voice was barely a whisper, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, “if you thank me, I’ll just thank you back - we’ll be in a loop.”

“We’ll work out the details later, then.” He murmured before leaning forward, catching your lips with his and sharing your taste off of his tongue.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @4-chan-inpadella, @butterflydemons, @kimahreummm, @ta3baee, @snowy-violet @bethanysnow

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[thegreatgodpam]

so.

bit of a pipeline of how this idea came to my mental doorstep: there's an au made by ruffwoof (think I spelled that right, but anxious about pinging) where all the turtles are different animals, with Mikey being a frog. now, a friend of ours (Angelo) posted a doodle of frog Mikey, originally in discord which is where a different friend (Daisy) said "rottmnt au but they're all frogs" and, thus, Kung Fu Frog AU was born.

In this au, basically everything is the same except the turtles are frogs and splinter is a cat. Cause why not.

So far, I've made a few concept sketches and had some ideas about characterization and stuff, so here we go:

To break it down a bit more (pronouns tbd, going with canon for now. also I'll be giving the bros frog legs, the pictures above are, again, just concept sketches):

Raph. 16 year old goliath frog, uses an axe for a weapon. Listens to Mitski and Mother Mother, and a little bit of girl in red. (The chonk man ever.)

Donnie. 15 year old poison dart frog, uses a halberd with some tech modifications. Listens to Baby Metal. (He has games on his phone.)

Leo. 14 year old red eyed tree frog, uses a scythe ("if I'm not straight, then my weapon shouldn't be either" -forg Leo). Listens to Black Eyed Peas, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and similar and also Micheal Buble? (Skinniest mfer around, tallest of the whole group. Legs fo dayyzz.)

Mikey. 13 year old flying frog, uses a sun and moon pointed sword for a weapon. Listens to electronic music and video game soundtracks, definitely an ipad kid. (Bro got da pants.)

Splinter. 56 year old ginger cat, does not fight often but uses claws when he does. Listens to jazz and r&b, but will also listen to anything recommended to him by his sons and April. (He be a tall man, cause tall splinter is very funny to me. He got lost in his instincts once and tried to eat the bros but the Bonked him really good and now he's okay again. The bros also chomped on his whiskers sometimes.)

April. 22 year old human, tends not to fight but has several daggers and knives on her person at all times. Listens to all kinds of alternative music, though leans heavily towards goth to match her fashion. (Transfem goth girlie beloved. She's Jamaican and has lesbian parents. She's my favorite. :) [though any advice or info about how I should and could portray her ethnicity would be much appreciated, I know none of the things-])

Any other potential characters are yet to be thought about, though any ideas for anyone and anything are welcome.

Uh- yippee ig-

[fbfh]

fangirl’s paradise - leo x reader

genre/vibe: romance, adventure, slice of life

word count: 2.8k

pronouns/perspective: first person present, no pronouns (I think), gn reader

au: soulmate kind of?? also traveling to other dimensions/multiverse

pairing: Leo x fic writer!reader

requested: nah

warnings: you think someone broke into your house for a minute, you feel like you’re going crazy for a minute, questionable pop culture/internet references, you get really embarrased about stuff you’ve written, you say fuck a lot, tiddy as an explative

summary: all you wanted to do was write some leo one shots for your blog, but finding out he’s your soulmate is good too

reccomended songs: havana - camila cabello, where do we go from here - amelie obc

a/n: got really meta and self indulgent with this bad boy, probs gonna do a part 2 at some point, cause this got really long and I started to get tired lol. For clarity, you’re from the riordanverse, but ended up in a world where it’s fictional. also some memories were erased. 

requests r open xo

All I wanted to do was dance embarrassingly and sing along to the same playlist I’d been listening to for the past three days in terrible accents while I wait for my ramen to finish cooking. That’s it. I really don’t think that’s too much to ask for. Plus, I’ve been home alone all day, so it’s really not too much to ask for. I flip over the waistband of my sweatpants while shimmying my way to the kitchen. 

“Half of my heart is in havana oh nana,” I sing along off key, in a pseudo growly voice that makes me giggle. I’m going to turn the corner, make myself some ramen, then finish the episode of love island I’ve been watching. Except that’s not what happens.

“He got tha-” I cut myself off with a scream, seeing a stranger in the hall way. He looks up. I scream more, way more, and choke out, “JFK’s left fucking tiddy!”, because this dude is either the best freaking cosplayer ever, or those tiktok reality shifting tutorials actually worked at some point. 

He looks too natural, too organic. The level of detail and strategic imperfection is beyond conscious choice. There’s no way he’s a cosplayer that broke into my house. Also, that would be a super weird crime. 

Either way, I’m standing in front of a dude who looks exactly like Leo Valdez. 

It feels… fake.

I didn’t really notice I’m covering my mouth with my hand to stop my hysterical scream laughs, but I’m able to get it under control after a second. 

He’s looking at me, eyes wide, examining me, probably wondering why I’m acting so erratically. Or why I just spat out such strange bullshit. In my defense, I’ve been watching chaotic tiktok compilations inbetween updating my blog for like, two days straight. Three other people round the corner. I don’t know what I expected, and it shouldn’t have been a surprise at this point, but I’m sure I’m looking no other than at Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Piper Mclean. 

“Jesus fucking christ, fuck me with a chainsaw!” I spit, retreating into the kitchen, reminding myself that while they are my favorite characters - and again, somehow real and in front of me? - they’re still technically intruders. I grab the nearest kitchen implement, a pair of red kitchen scissors I’d used to hack open the ramen packet, and point it at them. 

“Woah,” Piper says, “it’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” I count to four and breathe in, setting the scissors back down within arms reach. Hold for seven, exhale for eight. I repeated the process again, watching Annabeth whispering to Leo.

I can feel the initial freak out subsiding. I’m starting to calm down a little.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Piper repeats. Well duh, they’re the good guys. A spike of pure what the fuck shoots through me, as I realize I’m already adapting to the fact that fictional fucking characters are standing in my kitchen. Leo’s ignoring Annabeth, and still staring at me, searching my eyes for... something.

Piper’s brow furrows. I call past Piper to Annabeth.

“Yeah, hi op, what the fuck?” They all have a silent conversation for a minute, and I continue, “Anyone want to tell my why the fuck fic-”

“We can tell you what’s going on, but it’s going to sound crazy.” Piper starts.

“After the past five minutes, probably not.” I glance past her shoulder, Leo’s still examining me. I look away, overwhelmed almost immediately. About 30% of my brain is just an endless loop of ‘ohmygodohmygodohmygod he’s real??? Like,,,, r e a l real????? Aj;dlfkajskdla ohmygod he’s looking at me what the fuck richard’, 20% was still trying to calm down from freaking out so much earlier, so I was at about half brain power for the conversation ahead. 

“Okay, wait. Let me get this straight.” they stare at me in silence. We’re standing in the hallway outside the kitchen, and I feel like a complete disaster trying to process what they’re telling me and not look like a total idiot.

“So, Calypso went missing, and Leo got Aphrodite to activate his soulmate link so he can find her and it led you here?” I’m already smiling. There’s no chance, I can’t get my hopes up. 

Piper continues, “Which means it might not be Calypso.”

“Unless you’re wearing a really good disguise or something,” Leo says. I��m pretty sure that’s the first time he’s spoken to me. I let out a breathy laugh and look away from him. If I try to look at him my brain goes haywire. Scenes from stuff I’ve written about him on my tumblr flash in my mind, and it makes me feel like I’m about to explode. 

“Yeah, the reason we know is-”

“The gods are real, monsters are after you, et cetera et cetera. Yeah.” They seem a little surprised that I’m more concerned with the soulmate part than the mythology part, but I’ve been reading these books since middle school. We been knew.

Piper keeps looking between Leo and me with a weird look on her face. God, Piper, don’t get my hopes up. A knowing look passes over her face and she looks around the room again.

“Gods, where did he go…” She gets up and leaves the room. No one says anything. Between right then and when she gets back should have been in a ‘top ten most devastating anime uncomfortable silences’ compilation. She enters again a few seconds later, a tall hot guy behind her. He has red flowers in his hair and isn’t wearing a shirt for some reason. He looks between me and Leo.

“I see… interesting.” he turns to me and says, “Can you tell me anything… personal about him?” My face flushes. I turn to Piper.

“Sorry, but who the fuck?”

“I mean the only noncanon stuff I know is what I came up with for like, writing and stuff but that doesn’t count-” I sputter.

“Eros.” she replies, “My mom sent him along to help find the right person.”

“Normally I’d be able to tell instantly, but my powers don’t seem to work here very well.” his voice is like honey, and it seems like he’s heavily implying something no matter what he says. 

“Yeah, go on hermosa,” Leo says, smirking, “take a whack at it.” His voice sounds so much more… real than I could have imagined. If I could verbally keysmash, I would have then and there. 

“Hmm… why don’t you try anyway. What kind of lover is he?” the room erupts into protests. They don’t want to hear personal stuff about their friend, I don’t want to talk about cripplingly embarrassing smut headcanons in front of the character they’re about, and he probably doesn’t want me taking a wild guess at his bedroom habits. Eros turns to Percy, Annabeth, and Piper.

“You two, out. You, leave but stay close.” They leave the room hastily.

“Since I’m the god of sexual desire, I know what gets people going. I’ll be able to tell if you’re right or not. ” Eros says. I risk a glance at Leo, who I have a feeling has been staring at me a lot. He leans forward, playful intrigue all over him. How is he not dying inside?? 

“Ah ah,” Eros says to Leo, “you too.” Leo obliges, and heads up the stairs.

“H- okay, uh… he acts like a top, but he’s really kind of a bottom,” I choke out, trying to remember details from past posts, and Eros nods in approval, encouraging me to keep going, “he’s really-” my voice falters, and I hide my head in my hands, “he’s really vocal, like really vocal… uh…” 

“Oh yes, I can tell.” Eros says, and I laugh slightly. “What else?” 

“More? God okay… uh… he really likes hickeys, and-” I choke on my words, still unsure of how I got in this situation. 

“He holds hands a lot in… the bedroom? God…” I trail off.

“The next morning, he kind of… he just sort of stares at you while you get dressed and stuff. I don’t know anyone else who does that.”

Eros studies me for a second. My heart is beating so hard. How long does it take to say yes or no? I’m uncomfortably aware of the distracting adrenaline in my arms and chest and head. 

“Interesting,” he says, then stands up and leaves the room.

What the fuck, is he not going to tell me anything?

I’m listening as closely as I can, and I’m pretty sure I hear Eros say five out of five. I got everything right or everything wrong. Nailed it or failed it. 

Piper speeds past me a second later and races up the stairs. After a few seconds she comes back down. She nods toward the staircase.

“You should go talk to him.” a knowing smile is playing at the corner of her mouth, and I can’t stop one from starting on mine. I run up the stairs, and see him, kneeling on my bed, reading what’s on my laptop. 

Oh god, no. 

He stands up. He’s staring at me so intensely, I look away immediately. I start sputtering out a panicked apology and sit down on my bed, moving to shut the lid of my laptop.

“Uh… I just listen to a song or something that makes me think of you,” my voice gets really tiny at that last part, “and stuff starts to pop into my head. I just keep replaying it, and uncovering more details so I can wr- wait,” I start to look up at him, but can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. I stare intensely at the pattern on my quilt instead. “Did you say remember?” He lets out a breathy laugh, and I can hear the smile in his voice. 

“-of course I never thought you were going to read any of that, or…” His hand is on top of mine, my hand and voice freezing at the same time.

“How… did you remember all this?” my fears are being squashed. He doesn’t sound mad, or grossed out, or judgemental. He sounds… impressed.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m only starting to get back bits and pieces, but you remember… everything.” 

“Wait wait…” I mutter, completely dazed, “so it wasn’t… it was all real?” I feel him nodding behind me, and he makes a noise of agreement. 

“It was genius, really… as soon as I felt like I was remembering something, I’d forget it.” His other hand rests on my shoulder, palm flat against my back. “Only you would think to write it like that…” 

“So… it all happened?” I breathe, my face heating up as I think of the titles marked with a little asterisk. 

“Yeah,” I bite my lip, feeling his breath over my skin. It’s quiet for a second. The mattress shifts and I can feel him leaning closer to me, feel the heat coming off his body. His lips are dangerously close to my ear.

“Want something else to write about?”

Oh my fucking god.

I nod before I finish registering what he said. His free hand moves to my cheek, tilting my face towards him, and my skin explodes with sparks where he touches me. 

Our lips brush.

We both freeze.

Flood gates open. Countless vivid images and feelings and scenarios flash across my mind. It was like watching a movie connecting every fic I’ve written. I gasp-laugh a little, and he does the same. It seems like the visions or whatever that he’s seeing are a lot more intense than mine. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me stronger, more intensely, more passionately than he had before. He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, and presses his lips to mine. Everywhere he touches feels carbonated, and I’m trying not to smile too much. I don’t think I’ve ever been more in the moment than right this second. He pulls me closer, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. I didn’t know a kiss could be deeper than it had been a few seconds ago. His mouth moves feverishly against mine. My arms move up on instinct, one hand playing with his hair, the other tracing the collar of his shirt. He shifts his weight, and one hand on my waist, lowers me back onto my bed. His left hand intertwines with my right, and I smile, remembering what I had told Eros earlier. 

“Estrella,” He groans into my mouth, our teeth scraping as we smile in spite of ourselves, and I get the sense the nickname was an ‘as you wish’ type of thing, from the Princess Bride. It feels like he’s saying I love you. My heart speeds up as he nuzzles into my neck, pressing kisses and little bites into my skin. I think about the nickname I always thought would suit him, the one I kept writing down over and over. Now or never.

“Sparky…” I smile, hiding my face in his hair. He freezes for a second, then lets out that breathy laugh again, his face in my neck. His lips graze my collarbone, and he starts to say something, but the door opens suddenly, and we jump apart. It doesn’t help much though, because he’s still hovering over me on all fours and we both look very flushed. And I’m pretty sure the start of a hickey is forming on my neck. 

“Right,” she replies, “we gotta get going, the door is closing soon, so come down stairs as soon as you’re… free.” 

“Sorry!” Annabeth yells, averting her eyes. Leo and I stumble over each other’s flustered responses.

“-looks bad but nothing… happened… we d- we didn’t like, do anything...” I trail off. 

The door closes.

“I’m coming with you guys?” I breathe. He looks over at me, that unflappable sense of playfulness present as ever. 

Leo sits back, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we should get back soon. Everyone else will be worried once they remember.” My heart plummets. I didn’t know you could go from feeling so incredibly euphoric to beyond miserable in about five seconds. I open my mouth to choke out a response, but before I can, he stands up and stretches a little.

“Do you wanna change before we go?” The question has such a normal tone to it, it’s a little bizarre after all the unusual things that have happened today. The bad feeling and tears at the corners of my eyes start to recede. 

“Of course you are. If you think I’m losing you again this soon you’re crazier than I am.” I let out a relieved laugh, and stand up. I look down at my monster foot slippers and sweatpants. 

“You know where to find me,” he winks before closing the door on his way out.

“Yeah, I should probably change.” He pulls me close to him, one hand comes up to the back of my neck, the other on my hip. He starts swaying us back and forth, dancing around my room.

“Well, if you need any help…” I laugh, and shove him away playfully.

I take a second to catch my breath. Oh my god. Thoughts are still racing in the back of my mind, but I don’t pay attention. I don’t have time to worry about what’s real and what’s not, I need to find the perfect demigod adventure outfit. I throw open my closet, start shuffling through dresser drawers, digging through my shoes. I don’t remember having one or two of the pieces, but after a minute, I find exactly what I’m looking for. It’s the exact outfit I’d always imagined myself in if I ever went to camp half blood. I search through my accessories, grab a bag, and hastily fill it with anything I think I’ll probably need. I turn back to my laptop, and change my blog description to on hiatus. I check my hair, flattening out the back from before, and determine I’m ready to go. 

I walk down the stairs, and everyone’s watching me. I feel like it’s prom or something, which sounds silly since I’ve got on ripped jeans and a backpack instead of a dress and clutch. Leo’s watching me with that look, the one that makes his eyes all sparkly, and he meets me at the bottom of the stairs. He puts his arm around my shoulder.

“Ready to go home, Estrella?”

I have never been more ready for anything.

[kojinnie]

Hello, I hope youvare doing fine !

It's for the Twisted Match-up ! My worst personality traits are : being too judgemental, run away from problems and insecure (idk if the second one can be considered a personality trait). My fav, character would be Hanji 😁

-🌱

Tags: a break-up fic, mild angst, modern!au

Summary: Reader left Hange with a farewell note, and in the reader’s absence, Hange finally confesses how they truly feel about you.

A/N: Thank you for the req, sweetie! Hange is perhaps my #1 character in the whole AOT and I always tried to refrain from writing about them as I fear I may not do my love justice. But for you, I tried and hope you’ll enjoy it~

- They/them for Hange's pronoun.

“I should’ve known,” Hange Zoe muttered to themselves. There was no contempt nor sadness in their voice, just a plain acknowledgment.

The seat that you sat on earlier was now empty after you left abruptly, leaving enough space for all Hange’s unanswered questions of what caused your departure. The diner where you left Hange alone had suddenly became packed since lunchtime had started, and in that commotion of people coming in and out, Hange realized that they had understood since long time ago why you would eventually leave, they just didn’t want to acknowledge it sooner.

For better or worse, the two of you shared a lot in common and one of those is the ability to trick oneself into thinking that everything was alright, until it’s not.

Hange left for a business trip the past week, and the last time the two of you met, there was an obvious spite in you. It started with messages left unreplied and calls that Hange missed from you, as they were preparing for a big project. You knew already that Hange was the type to immerse themselves in their work. There was a fire you could never put out and that was Hange’s devotion for their work. But for once you wanted to be prioritized and Hange missed every chance to do so.

Hange had the capability to trivialize feelings as if it is secondary to almost everything, and they thought if they were to return to you after the trip, with their big smile and their ramblings about all the amazing things they saw while away, you would cave in and share their excitement all the same.

“I should’ve known,” Hange mumbled on their own again, staring at your drink that was left untouched by you, “you were never on board.”

You had left the leather notebook that Hange gave you on your last birthday wide open on the diner table. Within, you had written all the things you wished you could say to them that you never had the courage for.

Dear Hange— you wrote. Hange sighed as a realization suddenly grew inside them, while looking at the words that you had written in blotted inks. Hange was only a line into your letter, upon realizing that they never knew how your handwriting looked like until now. The way certain alphabets twisted in a way Hange had never seen before – how many months had passed since the two of you had been together? And yet it never passed Hange’s mind how your words would look like written, nor did it ever bother them for not knowing.

Hange put your letter down and reached out to the other side of the table to sip your untouched drink for a while. They needed time to process your departure.

Hange knew that you had been crying while writing the letter. Evident by the blots in the ink and the crumpled edge. It’s odd because rather than feeling upset, Hange felt a sense of achievement for picking up the details, which sparked an uncanny inner struggle within them, “Could it be…” Hange mumbled to themselves, “that I don’t care?”

For the longest time, Hange had taken pride in being perceptive and observant – at least that’s what Levi and Erwin often call them,and maybe the compliment started to get into Hange’s head, as much as  they would not like to think of their vanity. Yet the ironies persisted; that Hange would pick up small, irrelevant details but would be oblivious to something so obviously displayed in front of their eyes: how unhappy you were.

I couldn’t say this to you directly, because I know you have such power on me, to make me sit and smile and pretend that everything’s okay. To make me laugh and praise as you talk and talk about how exciting the things you do with Erwin and Levi.

“Oh…” realization continued to hit as Hange reminisced the way your face lit up whenever they shared to you all about their works and achievement. Hange thought you were genuinely rejoicing their achievement and took it as yours as well, but then Hange realized moments too late that you weren’t.

Has it ever occured to you that I also want to be celebrated and it’s not always had to be about what you and your accomplished peers have achieved?

Hange leaned back to the booth cushion, gazing aimlessly at people rushing their meal, for lunchtime was going to be over soon. Hange remembered that one evening, you were hungry and Hange took you to this diner, where the two of you sat at this very booth. You didn’t touch your food, you were sighing repeatedly and moved about in your seat. Hange knew how an agitated person looked like.

“Something wrong?”

You shrugged off, sighing heavily, “My end-year review is coming up soon,” There was an obvious worry in the way you spoke, “I don’t think I’m gonna get promoted.”

Hange remembered that they sat there in silence for a while, before stuffing their mouth with roasted ham they ordered, “Urgh, that sucks. But don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll do fine—oh anyway, did you check today’s headline?” And with no hesitation Hange dropped the topic you were about to pour out that night.

Hange started to realize the problem.

I needed your reassurance but you were too.. out there.. with your experiments, researches and business trips to even realize.

When I go out with you and your friends, and all of you were laughing for things I didn’t understand… I often wonder whether you were laughing with me, or at me.

Hange realized that it wasn’t fair, for the two of you equally. They realized that they should’ve involved you more and not just used you as an outlet to pour their stories excitements at times. Hange felt guilt creeping within them, but quickly muttered in defense: “How am I supposed to know? You never told me.”

“You’re so quick to judge,” Hange said again, almost whispering, to the empty seat in front of them, with their fingers tracing the lines of your writing, “Is that how you thought of us all along?”

“What do you need reassurance for anyway?” Hange’s wondering was quick to turn into annoyance, “I don’t read minds.”

I’m not as good as you, you wrote. The ink almost faded out beyond recognition, you must had cried the worse when you got to this part, Hange thought.

Never will be as good as you. Or Levi. Or Erwin. I know I should be proud of you – but why all I ever felt was envy and jealousy?

Weren’t you supposed to be my solace, Hange?

“You should’ve told me…” Hange finally resolved, dragging their gaze to the afternoon view through the diner window. Bustling city felt so hollow without you. You were supposed to have a lunch with Hange, first time after they returned from the business trip. Hange had so much to talk about, things they pent up throughout the trip because Hange couldn’t wait to share it to you. To see the smile looming on your face, something so beautiful for Hange – one that they didn’t encounter often in their suffocating, busy life.

Hange thought, maybe you were quick to judge because you had been hurt by every type of people that had ever came into your life. Maybe to assume the worst from people had given you aid from being disappointed by people you love. Hange tried to understand, but without you knowing, for Hange, no validation or praise from anybody had encouraged them more than yours. You were the only validation Hange sought after. And to realize that maybe you never meant all those had finally started to hurt Hange, as much as they tried to shrug it off.

“You shouldn’t have left,” Hange regretted going to the loo, or not coming to their sense faster to realize that you were hurting. Maybe you wouldn’t have space and time to slip away and to only leave this notebook behind. Yet Hange also cursed your fear of confrontation, leaving everything to your worst assumption, “then maybe we could talk this out.”

“Unless you never wanted to, to begin with.” Hange cursed themselves for not better at reading between the lines of your words. Maybe that was why your hands were no longer warm to their touch, nor was your kiss as long and deep as they used to. Maybe deep inside, despite your smile and your nods, your heart was no longer home.  

I wish you could see who am I really and not as a figment of your imagination, you wrote, with sides of the page crumpled from the tears you had left upon writing it.

The line struck a final understanding for Hanji, as they muttered in regret, “I won’t,” deep inside really wishing that you were there in front of them, “because you always see less of yourself and that’s never who you are.”

“You’re more than all of your self-pity.” Hange reiterated, finally closing the notebook where you had poured all your heart into, “you’re more than all that.”

And Hange wished you would have known.

Honestly I feel like there's a void in the ending. Like something's misplaced. Sorry if it feels weird, I'm still tryna recover from chapter 138 😭💔

[onyourzeus]

• stress-free | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: stress-free pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you (she/her pronouns) genre: FLUFF, college!au words: 3.4k

author’s note: @pirimiritiddy​ requested a fic about wonpil, and here it is. it went on for longer than i previously planned, buuuuut. i hope it’s still okay aaaa 

(this is the 1st time i’ve written something for wonpil so if i get his personality wrong, i do apologize. i am also a baby myday huhu)

this dot fic (bullet style) is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario that i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: dowoon (currently only 2/5 completed)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

wonpil hates his schedule for this winter term 

who assigns a class that is only available at seven in the evening??

3 times a week

during THE WINTER

did he mention it’s a major lecture he’s required to take?? 

psychology of stress, more like

this class is giving him the kind of stress it is specifically warning its students about 

anyway, what can he say. he chose this major, there’s only 1 more term after this one and then finally: graduation

it’ll be fine, he’ll live

thank the heavens they didn’t need to attend the first two meetings, but some reading material was provided 

and was expected by the professor to have been read and reflected upon 

the class is really living up to its name because when wonpil opened the pdf 

it was 30 pages of tiny font sized sentences (for ants!) about the definition of stress and how it affects every part of the body yada yada yada

wonpil tried. he really tried 

that is to say he fell asleep on his desk while going over the same 20th page of the document 

if it weren’t for jae shaking him awake, he’d miss his first night class 

it would’ve been nice… if only the professor didn’t take attendance (something about being generous enough to make the first 2 classes “free,” so everyone has an obligation to come in for the remainder of the semester)

great, he’s stuck freezing his ass off just walking to the bus stop alone 

hopefully they turn the heater all the way up in the auditorium or else

the thousands spent in tuition would have literally been for nothing

overdramatic wonpil, can you blame him 

he thinks about reading the remaining 10 pages on the bus, even if he knows nothing of value will be absorbed

he wants to tries anyway, he does feel a little bit refreshed from that impromptu nap 

the bus has arrived, and it’s packed as usual; a lot of the students riding the shuttle are just yet to take off in the following stops

wonpil squeezes his way inside, 30 pages of stress psychology research gripped in both hands 

“excuse me, sorry,” wonpil mumbles, eyeing for a spot to sit to make him comfortable 

because once all the people standing up leave, it’s usually a race for the exit 

he’ll never understand college students

finally, he sees an empty seat way in the back. there was a girl on one end and two other students who seem to be ready to get off on the right side

wonpil doesn’t mind sitting next to someone, but once those 2 are gone he’ll just scoot over to give the girl on the left some privacy 

she seems very much in deep sleep anyway, wonpil wonders if her stop is coming or she’s riding to go to campus? 

wonpil doesn’t have time to think about other people, it causes him unnecessary stress

once sat down, his eyes focus on the last page he left off of 

the words register as gibberish in his brain, and with the bus moving so much it makes it even more difficult to follow along the paragraphs

wonpil takes in a deep breath, holds it in, and sighs very heavily 

his patience is usually the best out of his friends, but this class is turning more and more into the psychology of how to get you stressed tf out instead 

the bus nears its next stop, and the two people on his side stand up to leave, yes he can breathe normal air

however

hold on

his shoulder feels heavy 

turning his head slightly, for some reason once the bus had stopped its engine the girl’s head had flipped over to lean against wonpil’s shoulder instead 

oh no oh no oh no 

his shoulders suddenly freeze, as if blasted with a ray gun filled with ice 

it’s heavy and he can’t move, it’s numb and this girl’s hair is splayed all over his his sweater 

and she

she smells of coffee, and wonpil inhales it in

it’s not foul or anything, but it’s definitely exuding notes of espresso bean and freshly roasted coffee 

it makes wonpil feel a little more awake 

but he still can’t move his shoulders, and suddenly he’s panicking because the bus started moving again and even though capacity has lessened by 80%

someone decided to sit on the other end of the row he’s at

so if he even attempts to move, he’ll still be seated next to someone 

wonpil grumbles, lower lip jutting forward

something shifts

and he realizes he shook his shoulders a little bit with his frustration

“ah…” he exclaims inaudibly, panicking at the possibility that he had woken her up from her nap

wonpil tenses up, shoulders stiff and eyes peering at his side to see what she’s up to

she lifts her head just a few inches off of wonpil’s shoulder, and for a moment he’s relieved that maybe she realizes what’s going on

but wonpil only hears a soft yawn coming from her, and she returns to using his very rigid shoulder as her pillow during this bus ride

let’s just say that the next thirteen minutes was more stress-inducing than wonpil wanted it to be

right when the bus reaches the final stop (main campus), wonpil exerts any and all efforts he has to shake his shoulder, up and down, enough to elicit an awake response from this stranger 

the moment he feels her let up, wonpil dashes through that bus door like there’s no tomorrow

he is greeted with the coldest wind hitting his face, and his shoulder feeling numb from all the.. pillow roleplaying it did, if you will 

wonpil feels bad, borderline guilty for leaving her like that— what if she’s asleep until now?? he can almost hear soft snores from her end for a minute there, too, and it took so much of wonpil to resist chuckling at it while in panic mode simultaneously

suffice to say, he was not able to read the rest of the document

in wonpil’s defense, he had encountered it first hand — how stress overcomes one’s body and mind 

he forces himself to focus on what’s ahead, as boring as it sounds

he enters the lecture hall with a few minutes so spare, deciding to sit in the back

the projector screens are big and wonpil is not about to take his chances of getting called on today

luckily enough, he finds a row with visibly no other student sitting around the area 

shoulder feeling more alive, he comes back to his senses as well 

he takes off his outer sweater as it had become toastier inside. he still had a couple layers beneath his clothes

as the professor starts talking, wonpil finds himself yawning a few times

he doesn’t know if the video playing on screen is boring him or the girl in the bus affected his sleepiness

suddenly he remembers the smell of coffee, and how that’d sound real good right about now 

he slaps both of his cheeks lightly, trying to take him back in the zone of at least writing down important notes 

he’s on the fifth bullet point of his note-taking when the door behind him opens abruptly

it wasn’t loud or disrupting to the whole class, virtually no one even batted an eye

but thats because they’re far from the door

and wonpil is literally ten feet away, so when he feels the cold suddenly hit his back he had to know the source of the sudden hit in temperature

the class hadn’t been going on for less than an hour, and there have been students coming in on the other end of the auditorium

so wonpil isn’t that surprised that another student has just arrived 

he caught a glimpse of her hair, but that’s about it as wonpil goes back to his tedious notes 

until the very same person scoots herself in wonpil’s row

he huffs under his breath, the illusion of some privacy now shattered 

with a polite (semi-forced) smile, wonpil turns to the side to greet his classmate

again, wonpil becomes frozen in spot 

kind of like when you feel a magnetic pull somewhere, you follow it

and then suddenly you see it from afar, not believing your eyes if it’s actually real; if it’s actually there

in wonpil’s case, he’s one seat away from her

recognizing the flow of her hair, but more importantly

that distinct scent of coffee beans from her clothes 

this time, wonpil has a clear look on her face and he’s… speechless 

his polite smile has turned into a look of awe, eyes glued towards her 

she senses his gaze, turns to him and quickly bows down as a polite greeting 

“sorry, but has the class been going on for a while?” 

she speaks 

“oh, um, what— what?” 

“oh,” she looks confused, but rephrases her question, “what time did the class start? i had a hard time finding this lecture hall.” 

she’s talking to him, not just leaning her head on his shoulder

“seven” 

was all wonpil could say 

“it started at 7? cool, i’m not that late then!” she cheers, grinning shyly. wonpil watches the way she puts a strand of hair tucked beneath her ear. she’s pulling out her laptop from her bag when she notices a pair of wide eyes still on her person

“is… is this seat taken?” she asks, and wonpil hasn’t even taken in the fact that this is the same person from the bus 

“yes” 

tongue-tied wonpil strikes again, blinking back his own obliviousness to her question

“i mean— no, now it is, by you. you’re sitting there, um, i— feel free to sit wherever you want”

he’s scrambling for his words, flustered cheeks heating up amidst the warmth of the room

she just nods her head in understanding, and wonpil finally realizes he’s been staring at her direction for longer than he should have

“STRESS” 

the professor verbalized into her mic which causes wonpil to look to the front all of a sudden 

right, right. he’s at a lecture. what’s gotten him so fidgety and embarrassed and now all that he’s pretending to type on his google doc is

sdfjfjdfhshllsghgjghsh

just so he looks busy next to the girl who fell asleep on him on the bus

was there any point in preoccupying his mind with thoughts of her, and her head resting on him? no it’s stupid, wonpil knows this. 

people do it all the time, by accident, due to exhaustion, they don’t mean a thing by it

but wonpil is curious, and this is going to kill him. for sure

so he peeks at her again, and like a normal, decent student that she is (compared to wonpil at this point let’s be real) her hands are busy hand writing whatever the professor was saying

meanwhile, wonpil continues to sdfjskgnglddfjs his way to a passing B in this class

even in this large, spacious lecture hall he can still take in her scent

maybe it’s a new perfume that’s up and coming, that’s why it smells so strongly on her

oh! he can ask that? hey, do you mind sharing what line of perfume you’re using? it smells really good

it sounds like a common question, right? i mean if you wear strong fragrances you’re bound to be asked a question about it

he’s about to ask, he really was so ready to ask, what was he gonna lose? his dignity? 

over a simple, inquisitive question? 

“and now before we go on a twenty minute break, it’s time to introduce yourself to the person sitting close to you”

...

why do college professors have to do this? 

wonpil bites his lip, at this point in time he’s a senior who’s fed up with ice breakers like this. if it were any other person sitting next to him, in front of him, behind him— he would just go with his usual introduction

“hi i’m kim wonpil, studying psychology and i graduate in the spring. i’m taking this class for a major requirement” 

then go about his merry way.

but with her? she and him have history

sort of, and it’s the kind of history that is recent and wonpil is unsure if she is even aware of the weird string of fate-like connection they have 

or, wonpil, hear your consciousness out

it’s not a big deal, and in the scenario she doesn’t remember she fell asleep on the bus on another person

then you can just say hi like usual, and cut the string of fate there and then

(but does wonpil really want that?)

“hi”

oh crap she’s started it 

wonpil braces himself for whatever outcome this interaction comes out to. he’ll let her speak, and tailor his response from there

“i’m sorry, this might be really weird but that’s your sweater, right?” 

so she didn’t give her name, her major, anything substantial about herself but instead shoots wonpil a question

pointing at the sweater that’s draped on the seat in front of wonpil

wonpil doesn’t even check to look. he gulps, nods his head and squeaks, “yeah… why?” 

something in her eyes flash by, almost like a glint of recognition

she puts a hand on her mouth, and wonpil can make out the faintest shade of pink blushing its way to her ears

it’s kinda cute

“did someone happen to… fall asleep on you on the bus coming to campus today?” 

“... yes?” 

“that was me” she buries her face even further into her hands, almost lowering down to the chair 

wonpil thought she was gonna fall for some reason so he had to remedy the situation somewhat

“i.. i, um, did you have a good nap?” 

great comeback 

wonpil was so ready to leave the auditorium and never come back after the break

but he hears her giggle, and slowly come out of her shyness

and it’s a sweet sight, to finally see the way her cheeks look full of embarrassed laughter

as she twirls around a length of hair nervously

and taps the pen on the surface of her desk repeatedly 

it was endearing, and wonpil forgets about why he was panicking in the first place 

she then explains that she had work the whole day, and only had an hour to rest up before going to this 7pm class

wonpil listens intently, watching her mannerisms and the lilt in her voice when she continues to apologize for falling asleep on him without realizing it

“i’m not usually a deep sleeper, but work was exceptionally tiring today and i just needed at least a bit of shut eye” wonpil nods understandingly, almost worried about her health

“where do you work if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“at the coffee shop a few blocks away from campus,” she answers, head tilting to the side “i’m still wearing my uniform for it… is it too obvious?”

wonpil didn’t even realize her black long sleeves was a cafe uniform

but it did explain her strong coffee smell 

“something like that,” wonpil decided to say, curling his lips upward, feeling content and relieved at the turnout of events 

for the 20 minute break, wonpil thought they’d reconcile over what transpired between them and mind their own business soon enough— even if he thinks it’s hard to do that now knowing something about her

which intrigues wonpil 

and, quite frankly, he’d like to talk to her more

just so he has an excuse to watch her emotions paint her face beautifully

but there was a pause right after their short conversation 

and in real Awkward Wonpil Fashion, he shows her the 30 page reading material, in all of its flimsy glory and starts asking questions about it

“so uh did you read the whole thing? i thought it was interesting up until the part that i dozed off” 

and wonpil got his wish; he sees her eyes shine in surprise at his sudden attempt of an intellectual discussion

but she doesn’t deter him away

and actually, she’s read the whole damn thing. and wonpil was beyond amazed at the level of detail she explains to him about the parts he didn’t understand

he actually starts typing real notes while she was talking

this made her laugh in between her explanations, and wonpil didn’t understand what was so funny about

the fight or flight response

“it’s just. the way you’re typing this down so seriously, i’m sure the prof can explain it better”

wonpil shakes his head no, shakes it so much it hurt his temples

she laughs again, and he likes hearing that sound

“do you want to see what i’ve typed the past hour and a half of this class?’

“bet :p”

“actually nevermind” flashbacks of dsfkjsdjffdslkg ring true in wonpil’s mind as he quickly backspaces the nonsense in his notes

and the conversation continues from more psychology talks, to figuring out they’re in the same major but she’s a recent transfer student from last year 

and had been juggling work and school since the start of her senior year

wonpil wonders why he hasn’t seen her in the coffee shop yet

he would have done a double take the first time meeting her there for sure

“oh you’re too kind,” she suddenly replies??? 

wonpil had said his thoughts out loud 

without further embarrassing him, she says that she had only started working there since it’s more convenient for her; wonpil feels grateful she doesn’t dwell on the compliment any longer

alas, the break finishes and the droll of the professor’s voice reverberates throughout the room

this time, though, wonpil definitely feels more alert (awake enthusiastic) as the two of them exchange little comments about the class material

and before you know it, class is over and wonpil is an excited bunny. since they’re by the door they got to leave before everyone else

wonpil thinks it’s time to part ways… but this time they’re not fully strangers at all. they’re taking the same class, same major, they even know each other’s name. 

surely this isn’t the last time, right?

“hey, wonpil…” he didn’t even realize that they have started walking towards the bus stop together

“hm?”

“i think i owe you one,” she starts, stopping her tracks to face him. eyebrows up in hesitation, wonpil waits for her to finish

“you know, for taking over your personal space for my own comfort”

“oh that? haha that’s nothing :)” honestly if wonpil can do it again he’d volunteer in a heartbeat

“no, really. let me make it up to you. coffee? on me? i make a mean cappuccino” she winks 

it strikes through wonpil’s heart 

no need for resuscitation.. yet

“or a matcha latte? whatever you’d like it’ll be on me”

“anything!” wonpil exclaims, suddenly realizing the offer being given to him, the excitement bubbling up inside him again. “i mean, anything you’d like to have me try. surprise me,” he corrects himself

that manages to have her grin widely, eyes twinkling in excitement similar to wonpil’s and he thinks

they can get along

they can get to know each other better this way 

“would you be up to go for one now?” 

“oh— oh! now?” 

“yeah, that way none of us takes the risk of falling asleep back on the bus hehe” 

well, he really wouldn’t mind that happening a second time

“really now, wonpil?”

andddd he exposed himself again

it’s fine, she tugs his hand slightly to lead him to the bus that has arrived and wonpil follows in a daze

it’s a little full, so they have no other choice but to stand and hold onto the railings above

“guess no falling asleep here…” she teases, and now wonpil can’t use his hands to hide his blushing face

but the feeling of her just close by 

and the scent of coffee lingering in the air

in between them

just inches away from each other

it’ll do for now

[astarion-dekarios]

@everyonewasabird​

No, I don't mind talking about this...! I recognize however that it is a sensitive subject so I am going to activate my Insurance Policy and put it under a cut so, disclaimer this is all just My Personal Opinion and subject to taste and you can like what you like etc etc.

Warning: Trans Les Mis Opinions Under The Cut

So there are ... several different things that made me reluctant to try to engage with this element. Maybe things have changed since I last did so! Maybe they haven’t! But in any case these were Super common tropes and themes that I used to see around all the time and which bothered me personally (you can call it squick if you want), and actually made up a majority of the trans les mis content so I just disengaged entirely.

1. Trans [Enjolras] Pregnancy. This is perhaps the biggest one. Trans [male] pregnancy is kind of a sensitive topic at the best of times. In my Personal Opinion, the idea of Enjolras getting pregnant is so wildly incongruent with who he actually is as a character and the values that he has, and is a major squick for me. But this used to be so common that if I saw trans Enjolras mention, 90% of the time it was followed up with something about pregnancy.

It basically gave me the impression people were making Enjolras trans solely and exclusively so they would have the “excuse” to write mpreg & thereby reducing trans people to their body parts but also... body parts that are even more upsetting to be reduced to if you’re trans, lol. This happened with other characters too but 90% of the time it was Enjolras. If you want to write mpreg please [seriously please] don’t feel like you have to make one of them trans for it to “make sense”.

2. Feminization Of Enjolras. Enjolras looks quite feminine physically! I don’t actually mind if people lean heavily into that, in fact I quite like it when it’s done in the sort of Romantic Androgyny Makes You Beautiful fashion. This one was [almost] exclusively seen in modern AU content, which I try to avoid anyway because it’s just not really my thing 99% of the time, but it did actually make up a significant portion of Enjolras Content and a large Percentage of Trans Enjolras content.

What I mean by this is: a) depicting Enjolras wearing short skirts, crop tops, and/or lipstick because Fuck Gender Roles. Trans people are not obligated to Fuck Gender Roles & once again this feels to me personally incongruent with Enjolras’s characterization ... It’s fine if you are a trans guy and want to wear these things. But the conspicuous Lack of characters headcanon-ed as cis men who were wearing these things bc Fuck Gender Roles was... well, conspicious. Presenting trans characters as if they Have To completely ignore “gender roles” & “trans men can be feminine too [in fact they should be] [but cis men can’t]” actually wraps all the way around from Fuck Gender to... just feeling extremely uncomfortably binary gender essentialism.

       b) depicting Enjolras as extremely weak, not knowing how to fight, etc. This one actually feels both transphobic And misogynistic ... the fact that he looks “like a 17 year old girl” doesn’t appear to make him weak or incompetent in battle in Victor Hugo’s original novel, so ... :/ Again, just uncomfortable.

3. Non-binary Jean Prouvaire. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this. It’s fine. But the fact that it became such Widely accepted fanon to the point where people have actually “corrected” me when I used he/him pronouns to refer to Prouvaire is A Lot. Why this character specifically? Again I can’t help but feel like it’s because of a belief that cis men cannot be “soft” or like poetry or flowers or whatever. (Never mind the debate about whether or not Prouvaire is in fact Soft; he is almost invariably depicted that way in this case).

The other element to this is flattening and reducing gender and gender expression (especially in the case of non-binary people) solely to the use of pronouns. However instead of actually engaging w/ things I personally find interesting, most of the Prouvaire Trans Content appeared to be centered around the use of non-binary pronouns (they/them) (to the point where I have been “corrected” on it in the past), despite the fact that this makes no actual sense given that he is actually French and they/them pronouns are not a thing in French (at least not France French) (yes there are some people experimenting w/ gender neutrality in French language but there are more people in France who are in fact non-binary but for whom that does not center around pronouns; the specific they/them pronoun focus feels extremely anglophone).

Again like, this is ok, I understand that some non-binary people for whom this IS important (and that’s fine!) project onto Prouvaire and like, that is part of fandom, a lot of it is inherently personal. But also it is in my opinion an extremely uninteresting way of depicting gender-- along with the comparison of Jehan vs. Jean as being the same as a trans person’s chosen name... like that’s not what it is. It is, as a dear friend once said, more equivalent to that guy in your foreign language class who insists on being referred to by their foreign language name even outside of class; or your renfest nerd friend called Gavin who insists on going by Gawain.

These are the three Main things. As I’m sure you can tell by this rant, a lot of this is obviously personal taste. It’s fine if people like these things. But I don’t and some of it makes me profoundly uncomfortable, and the fact that it made/makes(?) up the majority of trans les mis content just turned me off of engaging with it totally. I am sure there is good trans les mis content out there, I have even read some of it in the past, but I am not interested in wading through a bunch of things that make me uncomfortable in order to find it haha. Hope this satisfies! I am in fact willing to talk about these things so don’t worry about pressuring me by asking or w/e.

[denimwrites-archive]

Friends? (Part 1)

Prompt: “hey you’ve had a rough day so let’s get in our PJs and watch a cute movie together and cuddle bUT IT’S TOTALLY PLATONIC ALRIGHT” from the “friendship to romance tropes i can’t get enough of” list I reblogged

Fandom: Newsies (2017) - Modern College AU

Pairing: Davey Jacobs X Male Reader

Summary: After a long week, you decide to invite your best friend, Davey, over for a relaxing movie night. Soon enough you’re both tiredly leaning on each other, and who knows what could happen next?

Word Count: 2,442

Warnings: Food, language (there’s some f-bombs and such), some fighting?

A/N: I haven’t written a male reader before, but I usually try to keep all my fics gender neutral, so I hope this was okay? I used he/him pronouns for the reader. I don’t know if I got the guy friendship right, but I tried. If anyone has any tips, I’d be happy to hear them!! (Also, in this fic I had Jack be bi and Davey be gay, the reader’s sexuality is left ambiguous) And I broke it into two parts cause I wanted to create suspense

Friends? Series - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

~~~

This week couldn’t have been longer. You had had three tests, and two papers due, not to mention work on top of that. To say you were spent would be an understatement. You knew that your friends would want to go out on a Friday night, but you couldn’t work up the energy to cook food let alone go to a party. You were lucky enough to have a best friend who understood that.

That best friend was David Jacobs. You two had become friends during your freshman year when he was your chemistry lab partner, and ever since it was like you two had known each other for forever. You had known Jack from high school, and were unsurprised when Jack tried to introduce you to Davey since Jack is such a people person and always trying to include you in things.

The two had met in their art appreciation class and hit it off when they got into a lively discussion about the definition of art. When you explained you already knew each other Jack then got you into the discussion and let’s just say he still brings it up every once and awhile.

Jack was usually the one for parties, but Davey was just as happy with a good book. He understood your wish to just stay home, and happily made his way over to your place with a fresh pizza and a Back to the Future box set when you texted him you needed something to recharge with.

You opened the door, already in your pajamas, and smiled tiredly at your friend. “That bad of a week, huh?” he asked as he made his way into your apartment. You let out a yawn in response, and he just chuckled. Davey set the pizza on your coffee table before heading to the kitchen for some plates and napkins.

Making yourself comfy on your couch, you just watch as Davey sets everything up. “Thanks, man. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. Think of this as me repaying you for helping me during finals,” he said, handing you a plate with a slice, and a smile.

You gratefully take it and can’t help the smirk that comes to your face. “I think pizza and a movie isn’t going to cover you keeping me up for two days for non-stop quizzing.” Davey chuckles again, and blushes a little bit at the memory. He had been stressing nonstop over his psychology and sociology finals, and being the good friend that you are, had helped him study for both, even though you weren’t even in those classes. You actually still remembered some of the information, even if it was pretty much useless for now.

As he settles next to you on the couch he grabs a slice of pizza for himself. “Alright, but at least it’s making a dent in what I owe you for that.” You just nod and take a bite of your pizza, and Davey takes that as his cue to start the movie. As you watch Marty travel between the past, present, and future and you consume more and more pizza, you feel your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

Soon enough the pizza is forgotten, and you’re carefully resting your head on Davey’s shoulder. ~ You’re dozing slightly, almost in between consciousness and wakefulness. Too tired to care about what you’re resting on since it’s warm and comfy and that’s all that matters. As the soundtrack of the movie continues to lull you to sleep, your pillow shifts and you groan, nuzzling into it. It seems to work, as it stops shifting, and you lean more heavily onto it.

Then unexpectedly, you’re falling. You land on something slightly softer, but you decide to get up anyway, the surprise waking you up. Pushing yourself up, you see that your hand on Davey’s thigh is holding you up and scramble to get off of him and let go of it, waking yourself up more in the process. You’re both blushing messes and you decide to clean up some of your mess as a way to calm yourself down. Throwing away some of the uneaten pizza crusts, you keep the leftover pieces in the box and stick it in the fridge.

When you get back to the couch, Davey’s putting in a different movie, and upon closer inspection see that it’s Meet the Robinsons, one of your shared favorites. As Wilbur goes on his adventure, you tuck yourself closer to the couch’s armrest on the opposite side of where Dave is sitting. Yeah, leaning on him was nice, but you didn’t want to fuck up your friendship by weirding him out in your tired state.

About halfway through the movie, you’re starting to doze off while resting on your hand. The last thing you remember before your eyes fully close is the bowler hat guy taking over. It seems like you were finally done for, since the next time you wake up, you’re securely wrapped in someone’s arms and completely stretched out rather than curled up.

Not remembering what happened, and not really caring with how comfortable you are, you cuddle into your heat provider and slowly drift back off. You absentmindedly feel something wrap around you. Goddamn octopus, let go of my truck, you think in your hazy state.

But then your warm partner’s laughing and the rumbles of his chest are waking you up. You groan and think, Fucking octo went and fucked up the motor. Asshole. The rumbles are deeper, and now there’s shaking going on and you just sit up, and blearily wipe at your eyes.

You’re met with Davey’s face next to yours and he seems like he’s trying to hold in his laughter, but at the sight of your confused and tired face he loses it. Laughing with his whole body, you’re kind of pushed off of the couch. You groan as you hit the floor, and David is just laughing even harder.

“What the hell is so funny?” you grumble out as you try to wake up. It takes him a few minutes to respond, since whenever he looks at you still sitting on the floor, his laughter picks up again. You let out a huff and stand up, heading to the kitchen. You stretch a little and look at your microwave to see that it’s almost six in the morning. Not the worst sleep I’ve had.

You start the coffee machine and grab two mugs. Leaning against the counter a you wait for the caffeine to brew, you rest your eyes and try to focus your thoughts on what you need to do today. I have that paper due in a few days, I should probably get started on that. And I have that stuff I need to research for that science class. You groan and can’t help but want to go back to bed.

When Dave finally calms down he joins you in the kitchen. He leans on the counter next to you and bumps your shoulder with his. You glare at him, still tired from the week and your unplanned early morning. But the glare doesn’t last long when he’s smiling at you with that stupidly beautiful mouth of his.

“I don’t know what you were dreaming about, but if I hope that octopus didn’t mess up your truck too bad,” he can’t even stifle the giggle he lets out at your confused face. Then you realize that you had been talking and not thinking. You hide your face behind a hand and let out another groan. Today was already off to a great start.

“Ah, don’t worry,” he says, pulling your hand away from your face, “I won’t tell anyone about your weird tentacle dream.” You punch him in the arm, and he rubs it with a chuckle.

“You better not, or I’m withholding your coffee before work.” That gets him to shut up, and then you’re laughing at the idioticness of the situation. He watches you, that smile still on his face. You thought you saw something in his eyes, but then he lets out a cough and you realize that the coffee is ready. You pour some in each mug and grab some creamer from the fridge, and hand it to Davey.

He accepts it and pours some in before setting it onto the counter, he adds some sugar before taking a sip. David drinks and contemplates something while you fix your coffee the way you like it. You sip in silence and sooner than you’d like, Davey is saying he has to leave so he can go home and grab a shower and his uniform before work. You say goodbye, and after he closes the door behind him, you let out a wistful sigh.

“Idiot!” you exclaim to yourself. You had been cuddling with Davey, your best friend, and kind of crush and your weird dream just had to ruin it. Letting out another sigh, you look back to your living room, which isn’t in the worst shape it’s ever been, and head to your room. Flopping onto the bed, you quickly fall back asleep.

Waking up much later in the day, you decide to get up and actually do some work. As you gear up to do some serious investigating for that science thing, your phone goes off. Checking it, you see that it was a text from Jack. You have to reread it several times, but even if you turn it sideways, you can’t make out what he was trying to say. You text a quick, “What?” to him and set your phone aside, trying to focus back on the task at hand.

The second your hands touch the keys of your laptop though, your phone goes off again. You see that it’s Jack again, and you still can’t make out what he’s saying. Letting out a huff, and taking a breath to steady yourself, you dial his number. Phone calls may be a horrible experience, but if something had happened you were going to find out.

The phone picks up after the second ring, but you don’t hear anything other than some grunts and what seems to be the phone passing between hands. You hear an outcry of, “Jack!” and you realize that Davey is there too.

“Hello?” you ask, confused as to what was happening on the other end of the line.

“Don’t! Jack!” you hear Davey yell, and then you hear heavy panting.

Your confusion only increases, and you’re about to voice this when you hear Jack say, “I’m doing this for your own good Davey. So, (Y/N),” Jack finally addresses you.

“Yeah? Jack what the hell is going on? What was with those texts? Was someone trying to murder you or something?”

“Well, Dave was trying to stop me from helping him, sorry for the confusion. Now onto important business.” You hear something in the background and then Jack is panting into the phone again. “Davey come on, just let me do this!”

“No!” then you think the phone was dropped.

“Hello?” you ask. “Jack, Davey, can you hear me?”

“Hey! (Y/N)!” Davey answers the phone in a forcefully cheerful tone.

“Davey? What the fuck is happening? Are you two fighting or something?” you ask, knowing that the worst argument the two had gotten into only ended with the silent treatment.

“What? No!” he says, obviously lying. You start to hear Jack say something in the background, but Davey shushes him. “Everything’s fine! Jack just sat on his phone wrong and accidentally sent the texts.”

“That doesn’t happen with a touchscreen, Dave.”

“Doesn’t it?” he asks, obviously nervous. “I’ve seen videos of it happening and stuff like that where Siri turns on and hears a conversation and sends it as a text and-”

“Davey,” you cut him off, “I’m going to hang up and go work on my paper now. I suggest you give Jack back his phone before he takes it back. I’ll talk to you later, bye.” You hang up and shake your head, those goddamn idiots.

What you don’t know is happening on the other side of town is that Davey is breathing a sigh of relief for the first time in an hour. Jack had come into the coffee shop Dave worked at and had been talking to him until it was time for his break. When Davey filled him in on what happened last night, Jack was asking all sorts of questions. He was also trying to text you that Davey was gushing over how adorable you were while asleep.

Jack had had enough of both of your secret pinings and was going to get one of you to confess to the other. Yeah, it was a shitty idea, but Jack just wanted his two knuckleheads of friends to be happy. However, when Davey found out he grabbed his phone and started running. Jack easily caught up to him and then you called when Jack finally had his phone back.

Now the two men were sitting on the sidewalk. Davey had handed Jack his phone back and they were thinking about what had just happened. “I’m sorry for taking your phone,” Davey says quietly.

“I’m sorry for almost talking about your crush.” They shake hands and sit for a few minutes before Jack speaks up again. “I wasn’t going to say it in so many words, but Davey you have to say somethin’ for god’s sakes. I know it’s driving you crazy, and it’s driving him just as crazy! You know it ain’t just girls who obsess over this kind of stuff.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Davey responds with a laugh, “but I get what you’re saying. If I’m thinking about it as much as he is then I should do something. But I don’t want to fuck it up. He could not feel the same way. And he’s the first guy I’ve made a really strong friendship with since I met you and the other news guys, but goddamn is he making it hard to just be friends.” With a sigh, Davey looks at the sky and just looks at the clouds.

“Then howsabout we get it straight from the horse’s mouth?” Davey gives him a look. “Okay, maybe not straight, but you know what I mean.” They share a laugh and then Jack is filling Davey in on a plan that he’s had for quite some time. They plot as you sit unaware on your couch, working on your paper. Boy were you going to be surprised next week.

[myndopeus]

you give me something to think about (chapter 4)

ao3 link in bio (idk if tumblr is still hiding external links)

Summary: Trini has no plans for the future, no idea of what she’s going to do after she leaves school. All that’s left is to enjoy the last year she has left.

And oh, what a year it will be.

The Slowburn Hogwarts AU that no one asked for.

Trini turns and watches the early blue light of the morning creep through the window. She rubs groggily at her eyes, looking at her clock again, watching the second hand tick past. It reads 6:07. One of those days, I guess.

She quietly gets out of bed and gets dressed, careful not to wake any of the other girls. She decides that sitting in the common room trying to work would probably make her feel even worse, so she tiredly creeps quietly out, hoping that the castle doors won’t be locked.

Luckily enough, they aren’t, and she steps out, the dewy morning air cooling her skin. She shivers a little, wraps her robes tighter around herself, and starts walking. She’s not really thinking about where she’s going, just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, hoping the rhythm will drown out the thoughts in her head. When she finally pays attention to her surroundings, she’s somehow ended up near the lake. The memory of that day in detention surfaces, and she suddenly feels a little more awake.

The castle looks strangely blue in the light, much like how Trini is feeling. The cloudy sky filters the sunlight that reflects off of the lake. Even the green grass looks strangely grey. She chalks it up to her shitty mood and walks, keeping a wary eye out for doxies.

She practically jumps out of her skin when a blurry shape darts across her path. She fumbles with her wand, her mind completely blanking on spells. Luckily, the animal isn’t one of ill intent, just a rabbit. She places a hand over her racing heart, breathing heavily. Suddenly, a much larger shape swerves out from behind a tree, and she yelps. The figure stumbles back in surprise, letting out a similar yell, and she realizes she recognizes the messy black hair.

“The fuck, Taylor?”

“Trini?” His face crinkles in confusion, before shaking his head. “Whatever, one sec,” he says, running past her.

She turns, confused and mildly offended, to see Zack cast out a barrier charm. The sprinting rabbit collides with the spell with a mildly audible thump, bouncing off and immediately dashing in another direction. Zack sends out another spell that hits the grass, missing its target. After a few more missed shots, he swears to himself before simply diving at the animal and grabbing it. He skids a few feet before getting up, the rabbit in his hands.

“Son of a bitch.  Anyhow, what are you doing here? Aren’t you usually on the pitch around this time?”

She simply stares at him as he tries to restart the conversation. “So we’re not gonna address how you were just chasing a rabbit?”

“Transfiguration assignment.”

“There must be some sort of law out there on manhandling animals. Even if it’s for school purposes.”

“Oh, no need to worry about this guy. I’m supposed to be turning him back into a statue.”

Trini hums in sympathy. “Reversing transformations is really weird, I still haven’t got the hang of it.”

“Yeah, I’m still figuring it out too. Really have to work on it though, because it’s a bit early in the year for me to be falling behind in class, especially with Quidditch and all that.” He shrugs like it isn’t a big deal, tucking the rabbit under his other arm.

It might be the early hour, or the lack of sleep, but Trini finds herself speaking before she fully finishes her thought. “If you want, I could help you out. I mean,” she stutters slightly, “I still need to work on it too, so it might be good if we, y’know, practiced. Together.”

Zack blinks, clearly surprised. “Oh! Um, yeah. Yeah that… that sounds good.”

“I kind of owe you anyways, for the quidditch training and stuff…” She trails off awkwardly.

Thankfully, they don’t stand in silence for too long. The clanging of the bells draws their attention, startling them both. They both speak at the same time.

“I should probably- ”

“That’s my cue-”

Trini cringes internally. She fires a quick “see you later” to Zack before turning and walking briskly back to the castle. She hears him call out as she’s leaving.

“Later, Crazy Girl!”

* * *

Something bounces off her head, jolting her awake. Trini’z eyes shoot around disorientedly, trying to make sense of everything. The garish color of the walls tells her that she’s in the Hufflepuff common room. She looks down, and sees a colorful paper tiger prowling on her books.

“Sorry about that.” She turns to the source of the voice walking towards her. It’s a tall boy with long, silvery hair that’s tied back. He reaches out, and the tiger jumps into his hand. “Didn’t mean to disturb you, especially since you looked so comfy.”

She chuckles bashfully. “It’s probably a good thing,” she says. “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“We’ve all been there before, believe me.” He sticks his hand out. “I’m Ernie, by the way. And yes, that is my real name, short for Ernest, haha, it’s funny, I know.”

She smiles, shaking his hand. “Trini.” She looks at his face, and something clicks. “You’re on the quidditch team, aren’t you?             You’re, uh, a chaser? Keeper?”

“A little bit of everything, actually,” he laughs, eyes twinkling. “I move positions almost every year.”

“Wow. That’s pretty impressive.”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “Mostly I just round out whatever position needs filling.”

“Still, you must be pretty talented. Are you captain this year?”

“No, although I am technically Vice Captain, in an unofficial capacity. Jen’s captain, and she’s certainly got the passion for it, but she forgets a lot of the administrative stuff, which is where I come in. Speaking of quidditch,” he says, “I hate to be that person, but tryouts are on Saturday. Jen’s making me tell everyone I see,” he explains.

Trini nods. “Cool. I’ll be there.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I brought it up,” Ernie says quickly.

“No, really, I was planning on going anyways.”

“Oh. Oh! Great, then.” He smiles. “I’ll see you around, Trini.” He walks off, his long hair swishing behind him, the paper tiger crouching on his shoulder.

Trini glances at her watch and sees that it’s around the time that Zack’s last class gets out. She clears her things off the table, putting her books on her bed, before heading out to meet him.

She reaches the tree from before and sets her bag down. She stretches a little, looking around. It’s sunnier today, and the sun is hovering quite nicely over the water. One of the perks of living in a hidden castle in the middle of nowhere, she muses to herself. At least you get a good view.

“Sorry, had to go get him from Professor McGonagall.” Zack shuffles up to her, a cage tucked under his arm. “How’s your day been?” he asks, setting it down.

She shrugs. “Same as every other day. Did meet this guy with a sick ponytail though, Ernie.”

Zack’s eyes light up in recognition, a little smile on his face. “Oh, Ernie! Yeah they’re cool, great quidditch player. Also super hot as well.” He sighs a little dreamily, staring off into the distance for a moment.

Trini blinks, her brain frantically trying to process all of the information packed into the last few seconds. It’s not that any of that information bothers her, per se. She’s more shocked at the ease with which Zack mentions it.

She chooses to go for the least personal question. “They?”

“Oh yeah, Ernie uses they/them pronouns. They’re genderqueer.” Zack looks at her. “You’re cool with that, right?”

“Way to put me on the spot, but yeah, of course. And they’re cool with you telling me this?”

“Yeah, Ernie is out, they don’t mind. Did you guys talk about tryouts?”

She nods. “Yeah, they mentioned it and I told them I was going.”

“Ernie’s pretty high up in the hierarchy of the Hufflepuff team. Would have been a good time to use what little charm you have, butter ‘em up a little, earn some bonus points, eh? Eh?” Zack winks excessively at her, nudging her with his elbow.

“First of all, no,” she says, pushing him away. “I’m not quite as willing to embarrass myself like that as you are. And they’re not my type, anyways.”

“Well, what is your type, then?” Zack asks, and Trini freezes. Luckily Zack doesn’t seem to notice, he just watches her waiting for an answer. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know what to tell him.

Fortunately, a slight movement in her peripheral vision gives her a distraction.

“My type is someone who actually pays attention to what they’re doing,” she says, pointing over Zack’s shoulder at the escaping rabbit. He looks at the open cage, before cursing and setting off after the animal, Trini laughing at him as he scrambles.

* * *

“So did you always want to play quidditch?” Trini asks. They’ve been sitting there for a while, the rabbit between them as they took turns trying to cast the spell. Her back is leaning against the tree, and Zack is sprawled out on his side, his head propped up on his hand.

Zack tries the spell again, and the grass around the rabbit glows for a bit, but nothing happens. He sighs disappointedly.

“Actually, when I got here, I had no idea what quidditch was,” he says, and Trini pauses, her wand in the air. “There isn’t much opportunity to learn about that kind of stuff outside the wizarding world.”

Trini’s eyes widen. “Oh. You’re--”

“Yup. Muggleborn, 100%.” 

She nods. “Me too,” she says, and Zack’s eyes meet hers. “I just didn’t think…  I mean, you look so at home here, I thought that you were at least half-blood, or something.”

He shrugs, sitting up. “Yeah, well, wasn’t always like that. It was super awkward my first year, everything was really weird. It was my mom who suggested that I join quidditch, actually.” He chuckles, a look of fondness growing on his face. “The only thing she knows about it is that it’s a sport, but she kept insisting that I try and make friends somehow. Plus, it was a good outlet for all my nervous energy.”

Zack reaches out and gently strokes the rabbit, scratching the back of its neck a little. Trini watches him, a little surprised. She never would have guessed it, but it turns out that underneath all his loudness and bravado, Zack is actually a really nice guy.

“So what about you?” She starts, pulled out of her thoughts. Zack is looking at her, that air of openness still surrounding him. “How’d you adjust to all of this?” he asks, gesturing to the castle.

She doesn’t meet his eyes, reaching out to tentatively pat the rabbit instead. “Dunno, I guess I managed somehow,” she mumbles. She can’t bring herself to lie to Zack, not when he’d just been somewhat honest with her.

He raises an eyebrow, but to her relief, he doesn’t push her for a better answer. She takes a deep breath, concentrating, before carefully waving her wand and saying the incantation, making sure to enunciate.

The rabbit stops chewing, the grass around it glowing with a bright light. It rises, freezing into a pose on its hind feet, and Trini and Zack hold their breath in anticipation. A moment passes, then another, and then the light fades and the rabbit unfreezes, landing back on all fours. It continues chewing as if nothing had happened.

Zack groans, flopping onto his back. Trini closes her eyes, tilting her head back until it hits the tree. “Damn.”

“You’re rushing it,” a voice calls, and Trini opens her eyes to deliver some snarky response to whoever was butting into their business. Unfortunately, her voice seems to completely disappear for a second when she sees who it is.

Kimberly is walking towards them, and she is in a completely unreasonable state of undress, a towel in her hands. Trini frantically turns away, afraid that she might start staring. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough, and the image of Kimberly Hart in a fucking bikini, her legs and stomach completely on display, keeps flashing behind her eyes.

“You’re enunciation is good, but the wand movement is still a bit unclear,” Kimberly says casually, as if she isn’t practically naked in the middle of the grounds. Her skin is littered with droplets, and water drips from her hair. She tilts her head, starting to wring her hair out. “If you slowed down a little, you’d probably get it.”

“Woah, Hart,” Zack laughs incredulously. “I always knew you were a little crazy, but you actually go swimming in that fucking lake? Home to the giant squid?”

Kimberly shrugs, slinging the towel over her shoulder. “Weather was looking nice, figured I’d go for a swim.”

“In a lake full of deadly magical creatures?”

“I live in the dungeons, Zack, and there are windows. They’re actually not as scary as everyone makes them sound.”

“Sure they aren’t. I’m just saying, when a giant pervy tentacle snatches your top off, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

“I… In what scenario would that possibly happen? I don’t even want to know how you came up with that.”

Trini feels awkward just sitting there listening to Zack and Kimberly banter, so she turns her attention back to the rabbit, who has hopped a few feet away. She exhales, focusing intently, and tries the spell again. Once more, the rabbit assumes the correct pose, but it doesn’t turn into a statue, and the spell fails. She lets out a huff of frustration.

“You’re still rushing it.” Trini notices that Kimberly is addressing her. “The second movement needs to be softer—”

“Well, if you’re so good at it, why don’t you show us how it’s done?” Trini challenges. She can feel her ears burning slightly from embarrassment.

Kimberly raises an eyebrow, and Trini expects her to just make some snarky remark and walk off. Instead, she steps forward, and soon she’s standing over Trini. It’s an awkward angle looking up to her face, but Trini figures it’s more appropriate than looking at any other part of Kimberly’s very much unclothed body.

There’s an awkward silence before Kimberly speaks. “Um. I don’t have my wand.” Trini blinks in confusion before she realizes that Kimberly’s hand is outstretched. Oops. She still doesn’t move, simply maintaining eye contact with Kimberly.

Finally, Kimberly lets out a sigh that is somehow both patient and condescending, before turning to Zack. “Can I?” she asks, and Zack hands his wand over.

She turns to the rabbit and lifts the wand. Her wrist flexes gracefully as she casts the spell, and even before she finishes, Trini can already tell that it’ll work. The glow barely lasts, and soon a ceramic statue of a rabbit rests on the grass.

“Good enough?” Kimberly asks, and Trini doesn’t have a reply. Kimberly simply smirks and hands Zack his wand back. “See you later,” she says to him before she walks off, not even bothering to say goodbye to Trini.

“That girl is hot as hell,” Zack comments, and Trini kicks him lightly, because there’s no way that Kimberly is out of earshot.

“Ow! What?” Zack complains, rubbing his shin. “It’s true.”

Trini rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Who does she think she is, acting like she knows everything?”

“I mean, she did get the spell right.”

“So?” Trini scoffs. “It’s still rude.”

“You realize she’s top of our class in Transfiguration, right? She’s got the brains and the body.”

“Gross, dude.” Trini grimaces, aiming another kick at Zack. “Do you talk about all your friends like that?”

“Actually I do,” he says, before winking at her. “If you think that’s bad, you should hear the stuff I say about Jason—” She cuts him off with a groan, burying her face in her hands, and he laughs. There’s a pause before Zack speaks again.

“So, you reckon Kimberly’s more of your type?” Her head shoots up, and Zack is watching her with a devious twinkle in his eyes.

Instead of responding, she turns to regard the rabbit statue. She looks at Zack, smirks, and then raises her wand. His eyes widen.

“Wait, don’t—”

“Lapifors.”

The statue wavers, comes to life, and the rabbit immediately starts hopping away. Trini rises to her feet, grabbing her bag. “Good luck, Taylor,” she taunts as he gapes at her.

“Wha-? What am I supposed to do now?”

“Keep practicing,” She says as she backs away. She waves her arms in an exaggerated conductor-like gesture. “Remember, slooooowly.” She turns away, and chuckles when she hears Zack swear as he goes back to chasing the rabbit.

* * *

Trini fidgets with the handle of her broom, her brain already filling with regret. Her nerves had been getting the best of her, so she figured that there was no harm in getting to the tryouts a little early. Except she might have been too early, and now she’s facing the prospect of sitting awkwardly by herself, waiting for someone else to arrive.

Stupid, she mentally berates herself. She’s tempted to fly around a bit, just to give herself something to do, but it might look pretentious if someone saw her. She settles for pulling her wand out and messing around a bit.

Even after all these years, Trini never gets tired of doing magic. Not to say that being gifted this way was easy; she figures her relationship with her parents would still be strained either way, but magic definitely played a part in that. Still, she found something calming in casting spells. There was a certainty in it, in the way she could actually make things happen. It helped her feel in control, even if only for a little bit.

She conjures a rainbow, and smiles as it hovers in a perfect circle front of her. Her smile fades a little when she remembers her earlier conversation with Zack. She bites her lip, mulling over the questions he’d asked her.

You reckon Kimberly’s more your type?

She hears footsteps approaching, and it turns out to be Ernie again. She gives them a wave.

“That’s pretty neat.” Ernie says, and Trini shrugs.

“Thanks. So’s that.” She gestures to Ernie’s hair, and they chuckle.

“Tragically, I’m nowhere near this skilled. It’s all Jen���s work,” they say, fingers brushing against the braids pinning their hair back. “Speaking of which, she swore she was gonna be on time…”

There’s silence for an awkward amount of time before Ernie tries to start up the conversation again. “Feeling nervous?”

Luckily, at that point, a bunch of other Hufflepuffs walk in, some of them in jerseys, some of them wearing regular clothes. Some of them call out to Ernie, and they excuse themself before going to join their teammates. Trini lets out a breath, glad to not be the focus of attention anymore.

People keep arriving for the next ten minutes or so, and soon the pitch is full of noise and chatter. Eventually, a sharp whistle calls them all to silence, and Ernie steps out.

“Hello everyone,” they say cheerfully. “Hopefully you’re here because you want to try out for the Hufflepuff quidditch team. If you thought this was gonna be something else, then I’m sorry to disappoint, but we’d still like you to try out anyways. If you’re not in Hufflepuff, then I don’t know what you’re doing here, but could you please leave, thanks.” There’s a titter from the crowd, and some groans from Ernie’s teammates.

“For those of you who don’t know, I’m Ernie, the unofficial vice-captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. I am not the actual captain, as that would be—”

“That would be me.” A voice booms from the entrance, and everyone turns on the spot. There’s a girl walking towards them, purpose evident in her every step. Trini can feel the wave of intimidation settle over the crowd.

Ernie shakes their head. “Always one for dramatics,” they sigh as the girl comes to stand next to them. Her long, dark hair is braided down the back, and her dark, serious eyes scan the crowd.

“Listen up,” she commands, and everyone snaps to attention. “I am the Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. You may call me Jen, Jenny if I like you, and Jennifer if you have a death wish.” Some idiot in the crowd chuckles, but he chokes when she immediately fixes him with a piercing glare.

“I’m not going to lie, the team has suffered a bit of a blow this year, so you have some big shoes to fill. If you want to even be considered for this team, I want you to give 100% effort. There will be no do-overs for these tryouts, no second chances. This is your one and only chance to prove that you are tough enough and talented enough to be on the team. You want a place? Then. Earn. It.” She punctuates the final words by staring into the crowd, and Trini swallows thickly. “Warm ‘em up,” Jen says to Ernie before taking off on her broom.  

“Well then.” Ernie claps their hands enthusiastically. “We’ll have a few laps around the pitch to warm up, do some drills, and we’ll go from there. Sound good?”

The girl standing next to Trini leans in close. “The captain sure is scary, huh?” she whispers.

Trini nods, watching Jen fly around the pitch. “Yeah. I wanna be her when I grow up.”

* * *

“We’ll take a five minute break,” Jen calls out. “And no slacking!”

Sighs of relief can be heard throughout the pitch. Trini settles on the ground, wiping the sweat off her face.

The tryouts so far had been… chaotic, to say the least. After warm-ups and passing drills, there had barely been any structure at all. Jen seemed to be calling out exercises at random, some of them sounding so ridiculous that Trini was sure they’d been made up on the spot (at one point she tried to have them steer their brooms with their legs, which Trini is pretty sure is impossible). To add to the weirdness, every so often Ernie or one of the other squad members would fly up, seemingly out of nowhere, and yell “Catch!” while throwing some random object in the air (they lost a couple of recruits from black eyes, and Jen eventually had to call them off when someone launched an umbrella through the air like a javelin).

“Hey Trini! Catch!” She whirls around, hands just barely coming up in time to catch the object being thrown at her. It’s cold, and wet, and she realizes that it’s a bottle of water. She looks for the source, and is startled to see Billy waving to her from the stands.

“You need to stay hydrated!” he calls down, hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone. There’s a huge smile on her face as she sips from the bottle before giving him a thumbs up. He gives her two in response, and Trini feels like she could cry.

“Alright grunts, circle up!” Jen barks, and Trini quickly takes a few last sips before heading over.

“Surely there’s a nicer word to call them?” Ernie suggests, and Jen waves the suggestion off.

“Meh, who can be bothered? Alright,” she addresses the recruits. “We’ve split you guys up into teams, and we’re gonna run a practice match. We don’t have a snitch, so instead you’ll be chasing Ernie here. Rules as usual, except the game doesn’t end when the snitch is caught. If you somehow do manage to catch Ernie, both seekers will be switched out, and the match will continue. Any questions?”

A hand rises. “If Ernie is gonna be flying, how are we supposed to catch them without anyone getting injured.”

Jen shrugs. “That’s your problem. Anything else? No. Good. Also, positions may be switched up randomly and without warning, so you suckers better be on your toes.”

Fourteen people are selected to be on the starting teams, and the rest are told to wait in the stands. There’s a lot of confusion and apprehension floating among the recruits, and Trini tries to tune it out. She grabs a seat next to Billy, giving him a smile.

“Didn’t know you were gonna be here,” she says, nudging him with her shoulder. He flinches at the contact, but waves off her apology.

“You’re my friend, of course I’m gonna come watch. I would’ve brought the others, but I don’t think players from other teams are welcome at tryouts.”

“Probably not,” Trini agrees. They turn their attention back to the pitch as the quaffle is thrown up and the match begins.

Billy watches the pitch with a blank expression. After a minute, he speaks up. “This is a hot mess.”

“I agree.” They both wince as two of the players exchanging Chaser positions collide into each other, calling for a time-out. A player in a jersey flies up and points to Trini.

“You, Tiny. You’re up.” She glares at him defiantly before saying goodbye to Billy. Rather than going back down the stairs, she simply jumps to the top of the barrier and leaps from there, mounting her broom in mid-air.

The Hufflepuff player nods. “Impressive. Hopefully your skills live up to your showmanship. You’re in seeker position for team Yellow.”

The whistle blows, signaling the match to resume, and Trini immediately flies to a higher vantage point, scanning the action. She quickly spots Ernie by their silvery hair, the Black team seeker in pursuit. She almost dives down, but then she sees Ernie heading towards the thick of the action, where the chasers are battling for the quaffle. She heads on an interception path, aiming for the other side of the mass of people.

Ernie skillfully weaves under and between the other players—the other seeker isn’t as lucky, almost colliding with a chaser before getting brutally pummeled by a bludger. Trini winces in sympathy as they’re quickly swapped out.

Something flicks her in the ear, and her hand comes up instinctively. “Ah!”

“Focus, Trini,” Ernie’s voice says over her shoulder, and she immediately turns, but they’re already speeding off. She sets off after them, keeping an eye out for obstacles.

They zig-zag across the field for a while before Ernie tries the same tactic, darting by the other players in an attempt to throw her off. Instead, Trini drops altitude, flying a level below the action. She’s able to track the action above her, and she spots Ernie as they’re looping back to the other side of the pitch. She’s gearing up to intercept when her path is suddenly blocked.

“Get out of the way!” she snaps at the figure that swerved in front of her, and she nearly pisses her pants when she looks and sees Jen glaring at her sternly.

“I-I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” she manages to stutter out. Jen looks between her and Ernie before speaking again.

“Change of position,” she says, tossing Trini a bat. “You’re beater now.” She speeds off before Trini can say anything else.

The rest of the match passes quickly; there isn’t much for Trini to do as a beater, since the players are so disorganized she can barely remember who to defend and who to attack. Eventually, Jen calls a halt.

“That’s good, we’re done now. Good show, we’ll get back to you… at some point.” She flies away, leaving Ernie standing in front of everyone. They look around before throwing their hands up in celebration.

“You guys did really well!” they cheer, a comically large smile on their face. “That was a lot of fun, I hope you guys enjoyed it, we’ll have a discussion and once the team has been selected we’ll probably post something in the common room. Get some rest, make sure to drink water, and have a nice day!” As abruptly as their speech began, it ends, and Ernie is already walking towards the rest of the team before Trini can process what they said.

“Talk about good cop, bad cop,” she mutters to herself as she heads out. Billy is waiting for her outside the pitch, and he claps his hands when he sees her.

“You did really well!” he says excitedly. “It’s a shame you didn’t get to play chaser, but all that practice we did paid off! It was a really unorthodox method of choosing players though, I’m really interested in what their goal was. When do the results come out? I’m pretty sure you have a good chance of getting in. Do you think I’d be able to talk to the captain?”

Trini holds her hand up for a second, and Billy pauses. She thinks for a moment before responding. “Thanks Billy, it was fun, I had no idea what was going on either, results will be out maybe in a week? And you can try and talk to her, but she’s kinda... rough. Ernie is nice, though.”

He nods. “That’s good to hear. What are you going to do now?”

“Have a shower, eat everything I can get my hands on, and then take a nap.”

“Sounds like a good post-practice plan. But don’t eat everything, because it’s really easy to overeat after you exercise, because you’re so hungry. Plus, if you’re too full, you might get indigestion during your nap.”

She smiles, touched by his concern. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Everything in moderation.”

They chat a little about classes and the other players on the walk back to the castle (“It takes a lot of skill to drop the quaffle.” “I’m sure it happens to everyone though, right?” “They literally have Gripping Charms on them, Trini.” “Oh…”). Billy eventually heads off to the library to do some more research, and Trini heads back to the Hufflepuff common room. She stops by the kitchens first, and the house elves are very curious about her appearance. She gives them a very brief rundown of the tryouts as they foist sandwiches and pastries on her, and they wish her luck while sending her off.

Stepping into the Hufflepuff common room is incredibly awkward, because all of the other players from the tryouts are also just making their way back. Many of them are congregated by the windows in a sweaty mass, discussing the tryouts and how each of them thinks they did. Some of them recognize Trini and try to start a conversation, but she manages to quickly, if somewhat brusquely, brush them off as she heads to her dorm.

She debates whether to eat or shower first, but after getting a good whiff of herself, she decides that the sandwiches can wait. The hot water of the shower feels heavenly, and the only reason she manages to make it back to her dorm is because her stomach starts grumbling. The sandwiches are delicious, as always, and she has some pastries left over for later, as always. She barely manages to set everything aside before she passes out from exhaustion.

* * *

Zack is waiting for her outside the Great Hall after lunch. He falls in step besides her as they head to the library.

“Well?” he asks insistently.

“Well what?” she says, feigning ignorance. He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

“The quidditch tryouts, what else?! It’s been over a week, surely they must have said something by now.” She keeps her expression innocent, and he makes an exasperated noise, throwing his hands in the air. All of a sudden he stops, and his eyes narrow at her in suspicion.

“Wait a minute… You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

She keeps her expression blank.

“So results did come out, then?”

No response.

“Did you make it on the team?”

Silence. Then, a slight twitch of her mouth.

“I KNEW IT!” All of a sudden, Trini finds herself wrapped up in one of the most intense bear hugs of her life. She feels herself lifted clean off her feet, and her bag presses uncomfortably into her side as Zack squeezes her, spinning around.

“That’s my Crazy Girl! I knew you could do it!” After a few spins he sets her down, and the first thing she does is punch him in the kidney.

“I’m proud of you,” he wheezes out, and while she doesn’t respond, the smile on her face says it all.

She and Zack make their way triumphantly to the designated study table, when Trini stops short. Billy and Jason are sitting next to each other, as usual, with designated space for Billy to lay out his inkwell and quills. But on Jason’s other side sits Kimberly, her hair falling in her face as she leans over her book.

“Huh. Fancy seeing her here,” Zack whispers. Trini frowns.

“You say that like you come here all the time. You’ve literally stepped in this library once.”

“Twice, now.”

“Same difference.” Taking a moment to get herself together, Trini walks up to the table, Zack in tow. She takes her usual seat across from Billy, who looks up at her.

“Any news?” he asks, and Jason turns as well. She exchanges glances with Zack before turning back and giving a thumbs up.

“That’s great,” Jason says, giving her a smile. “You’ve been working hard, you deserve it.”

Billy looks confusedly at her for a moment, hesitantly giving her a thumbs up. “Um, thanks? But did you make it onto the team or not?” he asks again.

“Yeah, I did!”

Billy gasps, clapping his hands together. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Jason watching Billy fondly.

“Congrats.” Trini is surprised to hear Kimberly speak. She gives a sort of awkward nod in response, and Kimberly turns back to her book.

After a moment of silence, Trini gets out her astrology assignment, rubbing her eyes as she looks over the star chart.

Zack leans over (which is kind of unnecessary, considering how much taller than her he is), and frowns. “Wait, what’s that doing there?” He points to a dot on her paper.

She blinks at him. “That’s Pluto.”

“Pluto’s involved in this?”

“Yeah, we’re supposed to calculate based on a waning half moon. But I thought Pluto was supposed to be over there.” Billy points to a different cluster of stars.

“What? Let me see your chart.”

The three of them spend the next thirty minutes comparing star charts and quietly arguing about the positions of the planets. They eventually attract the wrath of Madame Pince, who gives them a brief scathing lecture on collaborative work and library etiquette before making them all swear to be silent. As soon as she’s out of view, the whole table dissolves into quiet sniggering.

As she reaches for a reference book, Trini briefly wonders how she came from studying alone in the common room to sitting at a library table with her two best friends, her best friend’s quasi-boyfriend, and her best friend’s quasi-boyfriend’s mysterious ex-girlfriend. She rubs at her eyes, turning back to her work. She’ll have time to ruminate on all of this later. Right now, she’ll just enjoy the calm while it lasts.

[artificialqueens]

The Bitch and the Dumbass 1/? (Biadore) - Miss Bianca

Summary: 

Adore sighed. The last person she wanted as a potential partner - Bianca Del Rio - was one step closer to sharing her lab station all semester. 

“Fuck,” Adore muttered.

“Profanity,” Ms. Visage snapped instantly from her place at the chalkboard.

“Fuck,” Adore repeated, provoking a sigh from the teacher.

A/N: So I’m back again, with the beginnings of a multi-chap, enemies to lovers, cis girls!Biadore high school AU. It’s also kind of a groupfic, influenced heavily by s6 group dynamics. I don’t know exactly where this is going, even though I have a lot of potential plot ideas - this is kind of a trial to see who’s actually interested and what y'all like, so please let me know. - Miss Bianca

As soon as she left her second period class, Adore flattened herself against the lockers beside her, waiting for the crowd to thin out a bit. The bustle of the hallways was always the worst on the first day of class, and Adore didn’t think it would be fun to struggle through alone.

Apprehensive, Adore peered down at the already wrinkled schedule clutched in her hand. She already knew her class for this period - Chemistry, with the Ms. Visage - but the room number had slipped her mind.

1124. Of course. The labs were all the way at the far end of the school, and they were gonna be a pain in the ass to get to on time. She’d had to listen to Raven bitching about it to her friends, loudly, the whole bus ride home last year.

Being late was a habit of Adore’s, but she couldn’t think of a reason to delay any longer. Sighing, Adore pushed back out into the crowd, trying to ignore the all-too-familiar feeling of isolation that grew stronger with every step.

A herd of chattering freshmen nearly knocked her over as she turned a corner, and she couldn’t help smiling wistfully. It had only been two years since she’d been one of them, but it felt like far longer. Ganja had been the loudest of all of them that first day, and Adore had felt invincible beside her.

Or, well, trailing behind her. But with Laganja, there wasn’t really another option. Adore had learned the hard way that you were either a step behind, or you were left by yourself in her dust.  

After what felt like ages, Adore caught sight of the room number, and hurried towards it. The hallway wasn’t as crowded here, mostly because the classroom was practically in the north pole.

As the heavy door swung shut behind her, the noise of the hallway turned to murmurs, and the scratching of chalk on the board grew irritatingly louder, drawing Adore’s attention.

Ms. Visage’s hair was as big as a pomegranate in a bun on top of her head, her upper body framed by the chalkboard. Her lab coat was rolled up to her elbows, and paired with alarmingly high heels, creating a look that reminded Adore of a student-teacher porn intro. She grinned amusedly, half expecting the older woman to spin around and order her to change into more proper classroom attire right there in front of her.

Tearing her eyes away, Adore glanced around. The room was empty, and Adore wanted to kick herself for actually being early - as she’d learned, when you’re labelled the school dumbass, the only way to maintain any kind of coolness is to act like you don’t care about class. She headed towards a lab station at the back, trying to be quiet.

“Miss Delano,” Ms. Visage said sharply, not even bothering to turn around.

“Uh - yes?” Adore managed to stammer, almost tripping over her own feet in her surprise and confusion.

“Nobody sits until I’ve paired you up,” she continued. “Stand against the wall.”

“O-Okay,” Adore said, stumbling over to the wall. “Um, how did you…”

“If you’re going to ask me a question, I need a full sentence,” Ms. Visage said more slowly.

“It wasn’t anything,” Adore said, trying to backtrack.

“Good.”

Adore swallowed. The door swung open again, and Adore sighed, relieved. A few more students filtered into the room, each looking around nervously before standing near Adore.

Pulling out her phone, Adore opened her email, looking for the list of students in the class to pass the time. She recognized most of people on the list, her eye catching on Gia Gunn and Vivienne Pinay’s names. She sighed. The two were inseparable with Laganja ever since she’d joined the dance team last year, and they were nearly intolerable as a trio.

Courtney Act, at the top of the list, made Adore nervous. Courtney rarely scheduled her classes without…Adore scanned the list, and groaned. Sure enough, there she was - Bianca Del Rio. She and Courtney had been fast friends since last year, when Courtney’s family had moved to the states from Australia.

Adore sighed. The last person she wanted as a potential partner - Bianca - was one step closer to sharing her lab station all semester.

“Fuck,” Adore muttered.

“Profanity,” Ms. Visage snapped instantly from her place at the chalkboard.

“Fuck,” Adore repeated, provoking a sigh from the teacher.

Bianca Del Rio was smart, but she was a cunt. Notoriously a cunt. Being involved in theater and getting straight As (something that she made sure everyone knew) could’ve put her at the bottom of the food chain, but her sharp, hateful tongue and her undeniable fashion sense made sure she wasn’t even close.

Everyone (except the Seniors) either idolized her or was scared of her. Obviously, Adore wasn’t scared, not really. She just absolutely hated the other girl’s arrogance.

Annoyed, Adore locked her phone and slid it back into her pocket. She crossed her arms, and glanced back at the door just in time to see it open again.

A smaller girl entered the room, her long black hair obscuring her face. Adore frowned, not recognizing her. The girl glanced around, and as her eyes met Adore’s, Adore almost gasped.

“Ben?” Adore exclaimed, forgetting to be quiet momentarily in her shock. She wasn’t surprised she hadn’t recognized her friend - the formerly chubby boy she’d sat next to in geometry was now small, slender and wearing surprisingly pretty makeup, a wig, and a green dress.

“Adore!” Ben exclaimed in a higher voice than Adore had ever heard him - her? - use before, hurrying over to stand beside her. “I didn’t know you had Ms. Visage too!”

“Yeah, I do,” Adore replied, lowering her voice to a murmur at the mention of the teacher. “What - I mean, you look good, girl, but what…”

“I finally got the nerve to start presenting female this summer,” Ben half whispered, biting her lip. “I’m - I’m trans, Adore. I’ve known for awhile -”

“Girl, that’s fucking cool! Should I call you something else?” Adore interrupted, grinning. Ben had always seemed uncomfortable in her skin before. “Female pronouns? Do you need to borrow any clothes or makeup or shit -”

“Female pronouns, and I’m okay for clothes,” Ben replied with a smile. “And I go by Dela, for now.”

“I love it,” Adore giggled. She stuck her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Dela!”

Watching the delighted smile spread across Dela’s face made Adore smile too. Dela took her hand, but instead of shaking it, she squeezed it excitedly and scooted closer to stand beside her. Adore couldn’t help but laugh. There was something about this new Ben that was just so infectiously bright and happy.

A sharp cackle from outside the classroom drew her attention away from her friend, and she glanced back at the door.

“Shut up, I did not!” exclaimed a different voice, one Adore recognized instantly as Courtney’s from the Australian accent.

“That’s what you say now. Baloney, bitch!” the loud and raspy response was just as distinctive, and Adore sighed heavily.

“Oh, gosh, is Bianca in this class?” Dela murmured in Adore’s ear.

“I know, it sucks ass.”

Courtney and Bianca looked just like they always did, half leaning against each other, a stunning grin on Courtney’s flawless face and a mischievous smirk on Bianca’s.

The two positioned themselves nearby, Courtney checking her lip gloss in her phone camera and Bianca leaning casually against one of the lab stations.

“Why does she have her fucking sunglasses on her head?” Adore muttered to nobody in particular. “We’re inside.”

“For the aesthetic, I guess,” Dela shrugged.

“And the jacket - really? It’s like, hot in here.”

“She looks pretty, though.”

There was a pause, as Adore looked Bianca up and down, unable to disagree.

“Stop being so nice all the time,” Adore said finally, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry.” Dela shrugged helplessly.

As Adore continued to watch them, annoyed, Courtney poked Bianca in the arm, pointing at one of the other girls in the room and whispering something in her ear. Bianca cackled, a wild grin on her face, one hand on her hip as she cocked her head and commented something in return that Adore couldn’t hear. Courtney squealed with laughter.

“If she annoys you so much, why are you still staring at her?” Dela asked, her tone soft but curious.

Adore opened her mouth to respond, then quickly closed it, and shrugged, looking away pointedly. She managed to listen to Gia and Vivienne bickering for a few moments, but then Bianca laughed again, and Adore couldn’t stop her gaze from snapping right back to her.

The other girl was playing with her dark brown hair, which was usually pulled back into a twist or a bun. Today, she had left it down, and it hung in tight curls around her shoulders, her acrylic nails tangling in the strands. As Courtney asked her a question, she pursed her perfect, matte red lips and shook her head, hair bouncing as she did.

“Adore!” Dela said loudly, elbowing her.

“Wha -” Adore jumped, and tore her gaze away from Bianca to see Gia and Vivienne standing in front of her, distasteful expressions on their faces. “What happened?”

“Bitch, where did you go?” Gia asked. “We asked you a question.”

“She’s in her own little world,” Vivienne replied in a low voice before Adore could. “You know what Ganja says about her. She probably wouldn’t have even understood -”

“You can ask again,” Dela interrupted, barely disguised annoyance in her tone. Adore frowned, wondering what Vivienne had meant about Laganja.

“We were wondering who you dudes wanted to be lab partners with,” Gia explained, and Vivienne snorted.

“I said I wanted to be partners with you, Adore,” Dela said earnestly.

“Yeah, I’m down!” Adore agreed with a smile. “Honestly, just as long as I’m not with Bianca, I’m down.”

“Why, you guys got a problem?” Vivienne asked.

“Who doesn’t have a problem with Bianca?” Gia snorted. “She’s a bitchy lesbo who thinks she’s all that. And let’s be real, honey, she’s not even some of that.”

“Mmmhm,” Vivienne hummed in agreement.

“Bianca’s gay?” Dela asked, echoing the question on Adore’s mind.

“She’s definitely gay for Courtney,” Gia snickered.

“I mean, duh,” Vivienne agreed.

“It’s a rumor, but it’s totally true,” Gia added. “I mean, look at them - total lesbians. Like, you can’t tell me they don’t have their sapphic ‘sleepovers’ with the doors locked.”

Adore looked back over at them. Bianca was pointing out something on her phone screen, as Courtney looked on from over her shoulder, her hand clutching Bianca’s bicep and their cheeks brushing together.

“Whatever, I don’t care about that,” Adore said, more loudly, shrugging. “I just think Bianca’s like, super bossy and I’d hate to have to work with her.”

“Don’t fear the girl, fear the devil inside the girl,” Dela remarked.

“Like, she’s just - competition, competition, competition, all the fucking time, like, bitch, everything isn’t a goddamn audition,” Adore continued, looking up and trying to find the right words.

“What’s this?” Courtney’s voice, far closer now, startled Adore out of her rant.

“Oh,” Dela squeaked, scooting closer to Adore as Bianca walked up beside Courtney.

“So what were you cunts saying about me?” Bianca demanded casually, her eyes darting over each of the girls in the group. After a moment of hesitation, Adore decided to face her head on. What did she have to lose?

“So, Gia asked me who I wanted to be partnered with,” Adore said, crossing her arms and meeting Bianca’s gaze. “And I said I was down with anyone, as long as it wasn’t you.”

“Oh, so you wouldn’t work with me,” Bianca clarified, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I wouldn’t. The vibes that I get from you are just, not cool, full on fierce competition all the time,” Adore said, shrugging. Bianca’s attitude was infuriating, and Adore felt like the dam was finally broken, and two years worth of annoyance were spilling out. “Like you always gotta be the best, and be on top of everything all the time, and, like, fuck being nice. I don’t need to be around that, bitch, I cut that out -”

“Well, isn’t that what we’re here for?” Bianca interrupted sharply. “Being the best? It’s academics, not fucking summer camp.”

There was silence for a moment, Dela vibrating nervously beside Adore and Gia and Vivienne watching the interaction as if it was the most engaging thing since Pretty Little Liars.

“I just feel like we both have really strong personalities, and our personalities would clash,” Adore said finally. “Like, if something went wrong in an experiment, you would sell me up the river.”

“Oh, well…I…” Bianca glanced over at Courtney, then back to Adore. Her eyelashes fluttered as she tilted her head, cocky as always. “What’s your name again?”

Gia and Vivienne gasped dramatically, and Dela’s hand tightened in Adore’s as she glanced up at her.

Adore pursed her lips, furious. Her free hand curling into a fist, she looked away, trying to come up with a snappy retort.

“Quiet!” Ms. Visage shouted suddenly, clapping her hands, and the moment was gone.

Bianca snickered and looped her arm through Courtney’s, a satisfied smirk on her face, before turning her attention to the front of the class.

Adore wanted to strangle her.

“As you already know, almost all of you were late,” Ms. Visage began, her tone sharp and clearly annoyed. “I’ll forgive it today, since it’s the first class. But those who still aren’t here, even though I’ve allowed ten extra minutes, will be marked late. And in the future, I won’t be so forgiving about tardiness.”

There were discontented murmurs throughout the classroom, and Ms. Visage clapped again.

“Only one student was early - shockingly, it was Miss Delano,” Ms. Visage continued. Adore flinched, hearing Gia and Vivienne snicker beside her. “As a result, Miss Delano will be given first choice of a lab station for the rest of the semester. Delano, you can sit at your chosen desk now.”

“Oh, shit!” Adore exclaimed in a loud whisper, the corner of her mouth turning up in a lopsided grin. She glanced around, and picked a station in the middle of the back row, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading over.

“I’ll announce your lab partners now,” Ms. Visage said, with a stern look at Adore. “Miss Pinay and Miss Gunn. Mr. Firkus and Mr. McCook. You two, back row, with Miss Delano.”

The two assigned pairs shuffled to their stations, Vivienne and Gia whispering to each other under their breaths.

“Both Brians, at one table?” Adore could hear Gia comment.

“Too much gay to handle,” Vivienne replied, and the two giggled.

“Miss Chachki and Mr. Dam-Mikkelsen,” Ms. Visage continued. “Mr. Steinberg and Mr. Merrell. Miss Lake and Mr. Creme. You three, next row up.”

Adore flinched at what Ms. Visage had called Dela, and was about to raise her hand and correct her.

Before she could, Dela was raising her own hand, calling out the teacher’s name in a soft voice. Adore caught her breath. Dela - or Ben, as she’d been then - had never once said a word to a teacher in any of the classes Adore had shared with her.

“Yes?”

“Can you - it’s Miss Creme, now,” Dela said, her voice shy as she looked down at the desk. “If you don’t mind, I mean -”

“Of course, I’m sorry,” Ms. Visage replied quickly. Her expression was still neutral, but Adore swore she could see a softness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Maybe Ms. Visage wasn’t entirely evil after all. “Miss Creme. Is there a different first name I should note?”

“Dela, please,” Dela replied, the sweet smile Adore had seen earlier lighting up her face again. Ms. Visage nodded and made a note on her attendance sheet, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly.

“Alright, let’s continue.”

Ms. Visage continued to read off names, until finally, almost all the students were seated - aside from Courtney, Bianca, and a quieter girl, Alaska, who Adore knew from the music studios.

Adore tugged her lower lip between her teeth, her fingernails tapping against the desk in her nervousness. She really, really, didn’t want Bianca as a lab partner, particularly not after straight up picking a fight with her just a few minutes before. Alaska seemed sweet, and even Courtney was nice enough without Bianca next to her.

Not Bianca, not Bianca, not Bianca, Adore chanted internally. She closed her eyes.

“Miss Act and Miss Thunder,” Ms. Visage said finally, and Adore’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Miss Del Rio, that leaves you with Miss Delano. You can join her in the back.”

Adore buried her face in her hands.

“I can also dye my hair blonde and let the roots come in so I look like I’ve got a headband made out of horseshit,” Bianca snarked. “But that doesn’t mean I want to, or that I’m going to.”

There was a few chuckles around the classroom. Adore peered out from between her fingers, almost impressed that Bianca was talking back to the notoriously strict Ms. Visage.

Despite the fact that she was doing it by blatantly insulting Adore’s hair.

“Hey, no backtalk,” Ms. Visage retorted. “Get to your seat.”

Adore lifted her head.

“No, it’s fine, you can keep her,” Adore called. “I wouldn’t wanna make her resting bitch face even bitchier by forcing her to her smell my horseshit headband.”

“Profanity,” Ms. Visage sighed. Adore could see Bianca’s lips twitch, almost as if she was trying not to laugh. “Del Rio, I won’t ask you again.”

Rolling her eyes, Bianca walked over to Adore’s station, curls bouncing around her face, heeled boots making a noisy statement on the tile floor.

“At least I’ve got a resting bitch face instead of a resting idiot face,” Bianca added as she hopped up on the stool next to Adore’s. Lifting her sunglasses from her head, she set them down carefully, red nails clicking against the desk. “Fucking ditzy cunt.”

“Shut up, theater nerd,” Adore rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly.

“Fake punk bitch.”

“Arrogant -”

“That’s enough,” Ms. Visage called, glaring at them. “I’ve got a class to teach.”

As Ms. Visage started to go over the syllabus, Adore glanced at Bianca sidelong. The other girl was looking down at her notebook, full lips still twitching with amusement. Her dimples were evident in her cheeks, and Adore couldn’t stop staring at them.

“Theater nerd? Really?” Bianca whispered, shaking her head slightly.

“‘Resting idiot face’?” Adore retorted in the same whisper. Bianca met her gaze, and shrugged, her eyes sparkling.

“It was funny.”

“It was next level lame,” Adore argued, half smiling.

“Not my best,” Bianca agreed. “You are an idiot, though. Probably gonna make me fail this fucking class.”

“Oh no, not a single smear on Bianca Del Rio’s 4.0 GPA!” Adore whispered dramatically. “She’ll never get into college now!”

“I’ll just take the lead,” Bianca muttered, rolling her eyes. ��Nothing I haven’t done before.”

“Oh, so you’re that bitch,” Adore said. “Figures.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” Bianca shrugged, grinning savagely as she glanced at Adore. “And I am the bitch, after all.”

Adore groaned quietly, dropping her head dramatically into her hands. She could hear Bianca chuckle next to her, and she groaned again, louder this time.

“C’mon, it won’t be that bad,” Bianca whispered. “I do bite, but you’ll get used to it. You must have thick skin. I mean, you walk around dressed like that every day.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Delano! Del Rio!” Ms. Visage called, interrupting her own lecture. “What did I say? No talking during class!”

Bianca stifled what was probably another one of her cackles, and Adore hid her smile in her hands. Even though Bianca was irritating and bitchy, she had balls. Annoying teachers was probably the only thing that kept Adore awake during classes, and she was pretty sure Bianca enjoyed it even more.

“You said I had a resting bitch face?” Bianca muttered. “Look at that cunt. I’d say she’s got a stick up her ass, but honestly, I think a dick is way more on point.”

Adore’s eyes widened in shock as she stifled a laugh, looking at Bianca to see her smirking at the front of the classroom. It was going to be an interesting semester.