#“How are your classes? Do you like your professors?”
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freepsychicbiscuitfire · 16 hours ago
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To me a thorough syllabus shows how seriously a professor takes a class. If they don’t have one that is very thorough I’m expecting that they are gonna be okay with people turning in things late and generally will be slacking on the lectures.
I know we complain a lot about students not taking classes seriously but like you need to too! No just because I “pay” your salary does not mean you need to accept my late work or not grade me appropriately but you should expect that first week of classes I am judging first impressions and if I think you can do your job well. If not then why am wasting my time and money in your class? A syllabus is one of the easiest ways to show how you operate and how much effort you’re putting into the class-it’s like a resume for students.
Sometimes college professors like to hop on my posts lamenting the sorry state of syllabi these days and joke about how they haven't thought that far ahead in the course themselves, or talk about how they struggle to complete a schedule for their students.
With all due respect, that's your job. If you can't do your job, you should have a different job. If you need help, ask your colleagues or your department chair or *someone* because I know that professors aren't given a hell of a lot of education on how to educate, so you probably *need* help.
But every single time I make one of those posts I get anywhere from ten to thirty messages, replies, reblogs, and asks say "oh man, that's exactly why I had to drop out of school; I couldn't keep up with the assignments because I didn't know when they were due until the week they were due."
I have been a college student in three separate decades, and "not having a schedule of assignments in the syllabus" is new to my experience. That shit didn't fly in the 2000s or 2010s and I think it likely has to do with professors being overly reliant on apps.
AT A MINIMUM your syllabus should have:
Contact information (including preferred method of contact) for the professor
Office Hours
Grading Policy
Assignment schedule.
Your assignment schedule doesn't necessarily need to have the exact page numbers of every reading or a full assignment sheet for each project, but it should have things like:
December 1st - Major Project 3 second draft due December 9th - Quiz 10 December 12th - Major Project 3 final draft due December 15th - Final Exam
If you end up presenting a more thorough schedule with readings and homework later, that is acceptable to present a week or two into the semester but it is absolutely insane to me that students these days don't know what homework they're going to have to get done over Thanksgiving break during the first couple weeks of class.
If I had three professors at once who didn't give me a schedule, how on earth would I know if I was going to have to read three chapters of a novel, take a midterm and turn in two stats homework assignments, and complete a history research paper the same week that I'm planning to travel to see family? If I'm aware of this from the beginning of the semester I can make sure not to pick up extra shifts, or I can plan to leave a day later to accommodate the midterm, or I can start working on the paper early to complete it before the due date but if I don't know what's going to be due when, I'm going to have a big problem.
If you don't give your students a schedule you are communicating that you don't care about their schedule, and that you think it's their responsibility to contort their life (and their job, and their other classes) around your class, and honestly my advice to students in that situation is "drop in the first week and pick up another class". That's actually part of why I recommend signing up for one more class than you can really manage - if you get a professor whose class looks like it's going to be a disaster because they don't have a schedule, you can bail before the withdrawal period and get a refund for the class.
I'm only in one class this semester but the professor's response has fully dropped me into "Fuck it, I guess I'll fail" mode and I don't even know if I can pull myself out of my current D grade because I don't know how many assignments we have left in the semester.
This is a shitty way to run a class. If you can't do better than this, you shouldn't be running a class.
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spatialwave · 2 days ago
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"my ambition" - part three | the prequel
➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ word count: 4.5k ➸ tags: mdni! minimal nsfw, fluffly, poly relationship, relationship beginnings, blossoming love, s1 act 1, no mention of y/n, alcohol use. ➸ notes: so excited to get this out! had a fun time giving this relationship history and i spent way too much time overthinking whether the ending was too rushed or if it was too self-indulgent... and then i realized its a fic so i get to do what i want LOL! pls let me know if you would like more parts, or if you want some drabbles about this specific trio. i would really appreciate it.🥹
<- part 2
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You had always been academically gifted. Rising to the top of your classes each semester, pushing aside anyone in your way. Especially for a young woman, who had been accepted into the Academy before you had even finished your secondary schooling – a gifted student with the proudest of parents and professors.
Born with an influx of ambition flowing through your veins, knowing from a young age your duties to the world. It took more than wordy false promises to make a difference to Runeterra, it took action. That’s why you vowed to help Zaun.
What better way to take action, than to help those who had been long forgotten about. You were smart enough to see the way the city had been tossed aside, forgotten about, while Piltover only continued to grow and thrive. There was sickness festering underneath, people dying because of the less-than living conditions and poverty that swallowed it whole.
There were many days when you wondered if it was too much, if you, as a topsider, could actually make a difference. Would anyone want your help? The bigger question being – how were you going to help?
Then, you met Viktor. 
That was when your ambition rose higher than ever. A smart, young man a handful of years older than you – a man from Zaun himself. The youngest assistant to the dean, a title that was hard to come by, and rather jealousy inducing.
You’d weaseled your way into his life quite easily, finding him in the halls and striking conversation whenever you could. He was polite, and good at slipping away when your attention became overbearing. You couldn’t help your over-excitement for a scholar from the undercity. Someone who matched your levels of ambition. Someone who was able to teach you about the place that had been nothing more than whispers and off-hand comments by your peers.
You fell in love. Quickly, and hard.
Viktor, too. It was your smile, your innate excitement, the genuine intrigue you had of him and how he was able to share the experiences of chronic illness with someone who wasn’t just a damned doctor – someone who understood the pain. How could he not fall in love?
Viktor found himself appreciating you more and more with each passing day, wondering when you’d sneak through the halls to find him to share your newest revelation.
Wondering when he could be expected to be pulled into a broom closet so you could ravage his lips with your own. He hadn’t been so experienced with romance until you appeared in his life, content with focusing on his studies at the academy. You changed the trajectory of his life—and so had Jayce.
-
”Hextech?” You raised an eyebrow, sitting on a stone bench within the academy courtyard and holding a half-eaten apple in your hand, “I don’t know. Sounds… unstable,” you murmured honestly, looking between Viktor’s eyes as he stood in front of you. You took another bite, the sweet flavour calming you.
You had to admit, as much as you were uncomfortable with this new scientific breakthrough, so to speak, you had never seen Viktor quite this excited about anything.
“Precisely,” Viktor said, eyes practically shimmering as he spoke to you, “that’s why you’re going to help.”
“No way,” you huffed, standing on your feet and waving him away, “you just told me that all the work got confiscated, how the hell would I even help?” You spoke in a hushed whisper, as if Heimerdinger himself was listening in to the conversation.
“Eh, confiscated is a loose term,” he said, taking a step toward you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You tensed at the touch, turning your head from his gaze and shaking your head adamantly.
You had morals, and perhaps you listened to the dean a bit too much at times. Science was incredible, but ethics were important, and the explosion was proof that it was an unpredictable type of magic. If Heimerdinger made the call that hextech was unsafe, a yordle with decades over your own experiences, then you should listen, no?
“It has the capabilities of helping more than just the city,” he urged, fingers tightening on your shoulder, “Please. Let us show you.”
Those words tugged at your heartstrings, leaving you conflicted as your heart yearned to know more. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily as your mind reeled at all the possibilities.
The first image to pop in your mind was the proper union of Zaun and Piltover, an incredible feat that no one could ever pull off. No more distinction between the two – just one beautiful place to live. Your dream.
Could hextech really be the key?
“Fine,” you sighed, crinkling your nose and opening your eyes, “but I’m under no obligation to like this Jayce guy, he sounds like he doesn’t know how to properly take care of his research.” You looked up at Viktor through your lashes, watching the way the corners of his lips curved into a small smile, “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Crank it!” Jayce exclaimed from his chair, eyes full of childlike wonder, as Viktor stood at the chalkboard, crossing through equations and murmuring about the research he was still properly acquainting himself with.
You, however, stood next to Jayce, chewing hard on your bottom lip as your partner agreed with his words.
It all seemed fine, plausible, even. Yet, you remained apprehensive.
“And it if it doesn’t stabilize, what then? Part two of the great blue explosion that destroyed your apartment?” You asked, eyes focusing on the man sitting, his honey-coloured eyes shining as they watched you. Your stomach twisted tight, hating the way he made you fill with butterflies.
You knew him for less than twenty-four hours, and he already had you twisted around his fingers. Gods.
It was completely unfair to be caught between them both.
“It’s worth a test,” he was adamant, then a sigh left his lips, “but we don’t have access to my equipment.”
“Which is being destroyed tomorrow,” Viktor murmured, eyes back on the chalkboard and fingers touching his chin as he was lost deep in thought.
You jumped when Jayce stood quickly, the chair he sat on nearly toppling over.
“What?” he asked, panic rising in his throat.
“Oh, yeah,” Viktor cringed, looking over his shoulder at Jayce, “Sorry. I meant to tell you.”
You could sense the way Jayce was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, his breath hitching in his throat as he rambled on about how it was his life work, how they could show the council the equations to show them the proof. There had to be something!
But Viktor was right, proof wasn’t reliable on paper. They needed physical proof. A real test.
“We can’t do it without the crystals. The enforcers took them all, they’re gone,” Jayce ran his hands over his face as he collapsed onto the chair once more, deflated from the situation.
Your hand rested atop his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, much like Viktor did with you when you were overworked. Jayce flickered his gaze to you, those puppy-like eyes offering a silent ‘thank-you’.
“Mhm,” Viktor hummed, “locked away in Heimerdinger’s lab,” he continued, eyes settling on you.
“No,” you were quick to know where he was going with this, “Count me out, we are not breaking in.”
“She’s right,” Jayce said, eyes widening, “you heard the council, if we’re wrong–”
“Better be right then,” Viktor interrupted, and Jayce’s eyes sparkled with possibility.
You felt a tightness in your chest, shaking your head as you took a step back. The two of them spoke back and forth, but you hadn’t been listening. Just as you reached the boiling point, you turned on your heels and took a step away, but Jayce was quick to turn his attention back to you. He stepped forward, hand grabbing your wrist, and you felt your heart jump up into your throat.
“Stay,” he pleaded, hand tightening.
You huffed a loud sigh through your nostrils, brows creasing together and lifting. Gods, why did he have to be so goddamned charming? You hardly noticed the curious look that Viktor gave you two before rolling his eyes and turning back to the chalkboard. The smirk on his lips well hidden.
“Fine!” You snapped, pulling your arm from his grip, “but if we get caught I’m telling everyone that you two made me do it. I am not taking the fall for this.”
Jayce grinned, a toothy smile that lit your cheeks aflame, “Deal.”
You stayed a few feet behind the two men, arms crossed over your chest, as you careened through the halls quietly. You were hardly a rule breaker, in fact, usually a stickler for keeping peace. It was in your nature, like many topsiders.
When the three of you reached the door, you felt panic rising as footsteps echoed down the hall from where you had just come from.
“Shit,” Jayce whispered, “hurry.”
Viktor was fiddling with the keys, fingers filtering through them until he found the one for Heimerdinger’s lab. With practiced ease, he slipped the key into the door lock, twisting back and forth until it clicked.
Both you and Jayce were standing side-by-side, watching a flashlight in the distance, pointing in your direction, but too far to pick up on the three figures breaking in.
Viktor opened the door, and they stepped inside, but you were frozen. Unable to tear your gaze away from the enforcer that had been doing patrols and walking right toward you.
“Ah!” You gasped when there was a harsh tug on your arm, stumbling into the laboratory and crashing against Jayce’s chest. Viktor closed the door behind you without even the slightest creaking – a perfectly silent entrance.
“You've never broken a rule in your life, have you?” Jayce smiled, eyes watching you with curiosity as you pulled away from him yet again. You opened your mouth to answer but Viktor cut you off.
“She is a law-abiding citizen,” he answered, supporting himself on his cane as he walked further into the lab, looking around for the confiscated equipment.
“Can you guys keep it down? They’ll hear us.” You whispered, pushing past Jayce. Annoyed, and thankful the redness on your cheeks wasn’t visible in the darkened room.
“Huh,” Jayce grinned in response to Viktor, walking behind you as he looked around the lab, “you’re not kidding.”
“Shut up.” You hissed.
Settling in the lab, you stood off to the side, peering at some of Heimerdinger’s books as Jayce scrambled to find the pieces of his work. You listened to the sounds of the electrical whirring as he welded the parts back together, lost in thought as your fingers traced over the spine of a book.
A hand lifted to the small of your back, startling you for a moment.
“Sorry,” Viktor murmured, eyes watching you.
“It’s okay,” you chuckled, smiling as you leaned against him. Silence grew between you two as you slowly dropped your hand from the bookcase. You glanced at Viktor, biting down on the inside of your lip in habit, “Do you think hextech really has the strength to help people? Like us?”
Those honey-eyes softened as they flickered over your nervous expression, and he nodded, “I do.”
With a deep inhale, you tried to let go of your apprehension to the situation. This was for the best. If you wanted to reach your dreams, you had to run over a few toes, right?
“It’s all here,” Jayce called from his spot at the table, pulling the goggles off of his face and turning to look over at you two.
Viktor held up a blue hextech crystal to you, one from the handful that was confiscated, and when you offered him a questionable look, he insisted with the forward movement of his hand. Slowly, you reached out and took it in your fingers, feeling the rigid orb press against your skin.
This was it.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek before making your way to Jayce, who had been looking at you two with a small smile.
“Here,” you said, offering the crystal with an open palm as you stood next to him, Viktor coming up beside you.
Jayce reached out, taking the crystal, but not without a lingering touch to your hand. Viktor took notice, a sparkle in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed as you watched in curiosity as the hextech crystal was placed into the machinery.
It glowed a bright blue hue, sparks from the crystal illuminating the room. You had never seen anything so beautiful.
“It’s time to crank it!” Viktor said excitedly as he snapped close one of Jayce’s notebooks he had spent time looking through the past few days, looking in front of you and toward Jayce.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He asked, growing uncertain as Viktor sucked back a breath and shook his head.
“Do it,” you interjected, eyes wide as you stared at the beauty of the hextech. The inner scientist in you couldn’t be tamed any longer, you needed to see what this could do. It was almost addicting, and you couldn’t look away. It had sucked you in completely, “you have to try.”
They shared a look between each other, swallowing lumps down their throats. Viktor leaned forward, pressing the button of the machine, and it began to spin. It gained enough speed that it created a constant blow of wind that pushed your hair back wildly – electric currents flying wildly.
“I don’t think it’s going to hold!” Jayce said loudly, the electrical crackling of the machine deafening all other noses, “look at the buildup!”
“The resonance will stabilize it, trust me,” Viktor returned, sharing a thoughtful look with Jayce, an attempt to calm him.
You, however, were unable to look away. You stared at the wild glows of blue, a smile on your face, and blissfully unaware of the enforcers that were making their way up to the laboratory after seeing the blue light shining from the windows of the lab.
Moments later, the chaos settled, and you gasped with a big smile, hands slamming on the tabletop, “this is incredible!” You exclaimed in awe, watching as it stabilized.
Viktor smiled to himself, his hand finding your back yet again, “told you it would work,” he said encouragingly, eyes flickering to Jayce, “all yours.”
“It’s never done that before,” he murmured to himself, unable to tear his gaze from the slowly spinning crystal that sent waves of electricity to the surrounding runes, “...alright. Here we go.”
Hesitantly, he reached to the button Viktor had pressed, twisting the knob several times, so the surrounding runes began to spin and orbit the crystal.
You watched expectantly as Jayce twisted it over and over, creating different pathways for the crystal to spark energy. You couldn’t help but lean closer, even when the out flowing electricity stung your cheeks.
What the three of you hadn’t expected was a surge of energy to blast out, nearly toppling you all and breaking the lab’s windows. Within the impact, you fell right into Jayce with a yelp. Strong arms wrapped around you as he reached for the knob, and you clung to him, face buried into his chest.
The energy was strong, and for a moment you prepared for the untimely death of three scientists who just wanted to change lives. How fitting.
Then, the glass from the window flew back into place, as though time around you reversed, causing a brief moment of respite and enough time for Jayce to push forward and slam his hand on the button. The crystal fell back into place, and you were all able to breathe.
Slowly, you peeled yourself away from Jayce, feeling around your face and body to make sure your body was still completely intact.
“Incredible,” Viktor beamed, smiling, “we need to try again.”
You and Jayce shared a look, silently agreeing that it was now or never. And for you, there was no more backing out.
This time, you took a few steps back, not wanting to be caught up in the aftermath of a worse explosion, but still curious enough to peek over their shoulders. As you settled back, you swore you heard sounds coming from the hallway, but it was hard to tell over the crackling sounds of the hextech.
Pressing your ear against the door, you closed your eyes to focus, and you gasped.
“Someone’s coming,” you told them, hands holding the doorknob tight, “you better hurry.”
Viktor took a few steps to the door, sliding his cane through the handles of the door so it was snug, “better than nothing.”
The two of you shared a startled gasp, the rattling of the door loud when the enforcers reached the door and began to hit it with force, kicking and yelling for you to open up. Heimerdinger was with them.
“Stop this lunacy at once!” He called from beyond the door, and your gut twisted in guilt.
A few more heavy kicks and the door creaked.
“They’re almost through,” Viktor said, turning around back to Jayce’s side, “no pressure.”
“That sounds like pressure!” Jayce yelled, working hard to synchronize the runes with the knob. He looked over his shoulder at you, who was now pressing against the door with your weight. With each kick of the door, you huffed, doing your best to keep them from pushing it in.
A rather heavy kick caused you to stumble, but you got right back to it, watching over your shoulder as Jayce closed his eyes and focused on the hextech. 
Your attention was pulled back to the door when the cane cracked, and you tried to push against the door, but it was no use. One more kick and you’d be goners.
But the hextech won.
The sound of another surge pushed you against the door, and you panicked at the intensity that felt like it was going to crush you, and then suddenly… you were weightless. You turned to Jayce and Viktor, eyes wide, as you all had begun to float up into the air.
After one more kick, they broke inside, but the surge reached them, too. They stumbled back, while you had started laughing.
It was incredible, absolutely incredible.
“Excuse me, underfoot,” Heimerdinger spoke, pushing past the enforcer and stepping inside his lab, gasping when his eyes landed on you three.
You were nearly touching the ceiling, floating with your belly to the ground and caught slowly spinning between Jayce and Viktor. Your giggles erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to control it as you twisted around in the air. 
Jayce flicked a piece of metal, where it floated through a glowing blue orb that was just above you, and it shot out right at Viktor. You collectively gasped, taking everything in.
This was magic and science blurred together, a medley of perfection. Hextech worked. You did it!
“Will you please stop hovering?” Heimerdinger spoke, looking up as you spun your body around, touching and prodding at debris.
It was like swimming, you were able to push yourself, and you accidentally collided against Jayce, the two of you sharing a laugh. You couldn’t quite place it, but as your eyes caught his, you felt something – like a mutual intrigue of each other. Was attraction too strong of a word? Your cheeks reddened, matching his own, then he cleared his throat and turned his gaze away.
“I’m not sure how to do that, sir,” Viktor finally responded, pushing toward you both and smiling as the three of you moved around together smoothly, not touching. Floating. Feeling free.
Like all things in life, it didn’t last. The surged power of the hextech settled, and thankfully it was a smooth descend that kept you three from any broken bones.
Viktor had been wrangled by Heimerdinger, only after a good verbal lashing that included you and Jayce. Blabbering about the rules, ethics and how dangerous this was. At the end, your partner had been whisked away for damage control, trying to explain everything and to keep any of you three from penalties and punishments.
It left you and Jayce to clean up, gathering everything together into the back area of the lab, still in awe over everything that had happened.
Once finished, you stepped out into the brisk night air first, somehow still chipper enough to bounce down the steps while Jayce hustled behind you. You hadn’t been so inclined to do goodbyes, but he stopped you with a hand on your wrist, much like earlier. It sent a shiver up your arm.
“Wait,” he said, and you faced him, battling the redness that crept up your neck as you tried to remain composed, “will you stay?” he asked, grip loosening on your wrist, “to help us, I mean.”
“With the hextech? Of course,” you answered, rolling your eyes playfully, “Who in their right mind would see that and not want to explore it? That was incredible, Jayce. You should be really proud of yourself.”
A smile lifted at the corners of his cheeks, the compliment doing wonders to the insecurities that lie deep within him.
“Wanted to make sure,” he eventually said, dropping your wrist as you both ventured away and into Piltover, toward your homes, “I like you. Well, I mean – you’re good to have around. Smart, you know.”
A giggle bubbled up, a hand lifting to your mouth to try to stifle it, “you’re a dork, just like Viktor.”
Jayce smiled at you, biting down on his bottom lip as the two of you ventured down the streets together, “how long have you two been together?”
The question was quick to fluster you as you met Jayce’s curious gaze. You wondered if the question accidentally slipped out, and you could ignore it, but you could tell he was waiting for an answer.
“Oh, uh, just a couple of months. Officially.” You answered shyly, hands clasped behind your back as you walked side-by-side.
“That’s nice,” he murmured, “...so, has he always been so absurdly intense about science? Don’t get me wrong, I like everything about his ambitions, he’s a great guy for even wanting to help me. He’s just—“
“Surprisingly eccentric?” You laughed, nodding, “when he gets excited about something, it’s like his brain goes haywire. I suppose that’s the way of being an ambitious innovator”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Jayce smiled, quietly admiring you in the moonlight. Studying and memorizing everything he could.
The two of you ended up walking around aimlessly, indulging in small chatter as you shared your hopes and dreams. You shared nearly everything you could about your life, and he told his story about him and his mother, and how that sparked his discovery towards hextech. It was easy to talk to Jayce, to get lost in his voice – he was just so damned kind.
Nearly an hour passed when you finally approached your apartment, which was rather close to the Academy. The two of you had simply taken a few detours around the neighbouring streets.
“Trust me, if you want to get on the dean’s good side, then you need to…” your voice drifted off when your eyes settled on a certain individual sitting outside on a stone bench. Broken cane in his hand and looking up at the sky. “Viktor!” You called out, rushing ahead, “if I had known you were coming back to mine, I would’ve hurried back.”
He turned to look at you two, raising a curious eyebrow and smirking as Jayce slowed his pace behind you, “I have only been here a few minutes, it’s all right.”
You dug around for your keys in your pocket, walking up to him and outstretching an arm for support as he stood. He could walk relatively okay without his cane, but you still enjoyed the way he would lean on you. It became habitual between you two.
“I should leave you both to it,” Jayce cleared his throat, giving an awkward wave as you two ventured toward the apartment.
“Why don’t you come in?” Viktor asked, motioning for him to follow.
You looked up at him in interest, figuring the two of you would be falling asleep the moment you got inside. Nonetheless, you went along with it.
“No, no, it’s late. I don’t want to overstay–”
“Come inside, Jayce. We don’t bite.”
Viktor was convincing enough, or perhaps Jayce had too much of a soft spot for him because he was quick to accept the invitation.
It ended up being a great night, the three of you crowding around your kitchen table. Drinking some nicely aged wine you had hidden away for only the most important occasions. You celebrated your shared success and discussed everything hextech, the possibilities and what you hoped it would provide. You shared laughs, especially as the night went on, and you had all begun to feel a bit delirious at times as the sun began lighting the sky above the horizon and the wine settled in your stomachs.
“Well, I hate to be the one to end the night,” you smiled, sleep beginning to win its war over you, “I’m tired and sore, I should get some sleep.”
“Yeah, I should get back to mine, or, what’s left of it,” Jayce agreed with a dampened chuckle, eyes flickering out of the window to gauge the time with the colour of the skyline.
“Why don’t you stay the night?” The question fell from your lips much too quickly, unsure if it was your overt politeness or an underlying desire that lead it, “if you’re okay with that.” You shot your gaze to Viktor.
It felt like hours, but the few seconds you took to share a look said lots. A silent agreement about your shared feelings for Jayce.
“Sure,” he answered. A shy smile tugged at your lips, and your lover turned back to Jayce.
The man seemed a bit uncertain, and maybe a bit too tipsy to understand the looks thrown at him. His amber eyes jumped between you two, “I’ve intruded far too mu–”
“Stay.” Your voice mixed with Viktor’s almost too perfectly, in complete synchronization.
“Okay.”
The night became a blur. It was Viktor who had led you both to the bedroom, the wine clouding all judgment from the three parties and allowing you to just be. To indulge in each other without wondering what would come next. To allow yourselves to act on attraction and lust with nothing holding you back.
“I’m glad you stayed,” you murmured, lips lingering along the stubble on Jayce’s jawline. Viktor, who was behind you, peppered kisses along your bare shoulders.
“Me too,” Jayce breathed in response, hands careening your naked body and intertwining with Viktor’s fingers with they met over your hip.
“Let’s stop talking,” Viktor mumbled with a quick nip at your skin, the confidence in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
Jayce wasn’t quite certain how he managed to be wrangled in by you both, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when, for once, everything felt right.
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venusbyline · 22 hours ago
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Treatment ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 29, oct.
(late post)
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— pairing: Spencer Reid x college student!reader
— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)
— kink: praise kink
— summary: Spencer needs to take out the frustrations of his professional life during sex with you, his girlfriend and his favorite student.
— word count: 1.2k
— tags/warnings: kinktober 29th day, female!reader, girlfriend!reader, professor!Reid, praise kink, aftercare, vaginal sex, rough sex, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, body worship, hair-pulling, butt slapping, biting, teacher-student relationship (NO UNDERAGE), secret relationship, dumbification, squirting, dacryphilia, creampie, cum dripping, subspace, fluffy ending, table sex, rough kissing, soft!Reid, dom!Reid, sub!reader. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.
— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917
— crossposting: AO3
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Ever since Spencer arrived at university stressed after a week solving an important case at the BAU, you knew he would need to take out all his frustration with you on sex. It was no longer news to the two of you how high Spencer's sex drive became after dealing with maniacal Unsubs, especially when he had to put up with so many students who seemed to have a below average IQ inside his classroom.
The opportunity to teach subjects focused on criminology, sociology and psychoanalysis had been incredible at first, but started increasingly unbearable as the final exams weeks approached. He was trying to get his students used to his assessment method little by little, giving them short and quick tests that contained only some topics that would be included in the final exams.
However, with each test he corrected, he cursed a different teenager. Spencer could barely read the answers without wanting to rip his eyes out of their eye sockets or tear his own skin. Maybe most of the students were really stupid and irresponsible, or maybe he was being very demanding due to the stress he was going through with the latest criminal case. After all, he could not judge someone's intelligence as truly inferior just because he had a real genius brain.
When Spencer saw that he would not be able to concentrate on correcting the tests, he huffed and threw randomly the pile of papers on his table, taking out his phone and sending an urgent text to you, his favorite student and secret girlfriend too.
Even though you were busy in the library studying for another professor's classes, you were more than a little eager when you saw the text from Spencer, or rather Doctor Reid, demanding your presence in his office immediately. You knew what was coming as soon as you had caught a glimpse of him walking through campus hallways earlier that day. He was stressed. And if Spencer was stressed, that meant you would suffer the consequences and be very rewarded later.
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"T-This fucking good pussy!" Spencer growled, gripping your waist tighter, giving your ass a slap that made you roll your eyes in pleasure as he moved his hips deeper, more brutally, almost as if he wanted to break you into two parts.
You whimpered when the head of his cock almost hit your cervix, making you see stars. "S-Spencie!"
Your trembling moan came along with a sob, your legs shaking as you gripped the edge of his marble table, trying to steady yourself with each thrust, even though your legs were so weak that you were sure all the paperwork would fall to the floor soon. "You're doing so well, darling. Taking my thick cock inside you like a good girl..." He growled, lowering himself until his chest was against your back, biting your shoulder uncovered by the neckline of your dress. "My best student. The only one smart enough to be admitted to this stupid university."
You knew he was overreacting, but that did not stop you from smiling between moans, your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter while he praised you, fingers pressing the soft flesh of your ass and his lips whispering how smart and hot you were. His favorite. You would always be his favorite student.
Spencer pulled you by your hair, until you were standing as he held himself still inside you, grabbing your chin for a sloppy and aggressive kiss. His free hand pulled just one of your legs up onto the table, the new position making him hit deeper inside your tight pussy. "Fuck... You have no idea how much I needed this." Spencer moaned, taking advantage of the fact that you understood the angle he wanted to fuck you at and he held your hips to help you keep it that way. "I love your little pussy crushing me like that. So tight, even when I'm about to fill you with my cum. You want that, darling? Going around campus with my cum running down your thighs? For everyone to know that you're the best student ever?”
You did not answer your boyfriend, as you were too busy feeling your orgasm coming. Spencer's eyes rolled back as your ass began to bounce faster by the second and you started to moan loudly, forcing him to release your chin to cover your mouth. "Shhh, little girl... You don't want people to know that you're getting special treatment from your professor, don't you, darling? You want them to know how much I love fucking your pussy until you're a whining mess?"
You shook your head immediately, muffled sounds escaping when Spencer licked your neck, continuing to whispering and dirty talking to you, the fucking starting to get more intense after you climaxed and your hole started to get creamy due his pre-cum and your juices.
Noticing how your body began to shake more than normal and your walls were spasming, Spencer let go of your hips only to finger your clit, rubbing it so roughly that you screamed into his palm and finally came again, followed by the transparent liquid squirting from your pussy while Spencer continued fucking you. He stimulated your clit until he also was cumming, moaning in an almost guttural way as he watched the scene of you crying out and squirting, feeling you milking his cock until the last drop.
Spencer sighed at the overstimulation, withdrawing himself from you, causing you to groan in pain and melancholy at the sudden emptiness. "It's okay, darling. You were so good, you're always so good to me... my good girl." Spencer whispered, picking you up to lay you down on the table. It was not the most comfortable place possible for the aftercare, but both of you knew it was the most that having sex hidden in your university professor's office could offer you. He stroked your hair, taking a tissue from his briefcase so he could wipe off the remnants of his cum running down your thighs. He gave you a soft smile because you reflexively tried to pull yourself away, your mind still trapped into the subspace. "It's just me, darling. You're okay. I just need to clean you up now. Is that okay, my girl?"
You nodded weakly and also a little confused, low but less scared whimpers coming from your lips. Spencer was careful not to hurt your already so sensitive and sore core. "My beautiful little girl. You're so perfect, darling. I'm so proud of you..." You smiled with your eyes closed, hearing his husky but loving voice.
Spencer took charge of taking care of you during that moment, placing a soft kiss on your temple, putting your panties back on and fixing your dress. Spencer caressed your head, admiring your weak and sleepy form, trying his best to hold back the giggle that wanted to escape as he noticed that the papers containing his students' tests were damp with random drops from your sudden squirt.
He would have to think about some convincing explanation to give to the university president regarding the stains on those papers. However, for now, the only thing Spencer would do was make sure you were physically and emotionally fine again so both of you could return to your proper responsibilities when the next class started.
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Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist
HOTD Edition - Masterlist
Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist
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sugarverse · 3 days ago
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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.
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thirdyear!izuku x bitchy!black reader
synopsis: Izuku and you are forced to work together for a midterm project, and you're bent on not helping the nerd finish it.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: words like slut, cumdump are used to be degrading but nothing too far out oc, a petty slap on the cheek and thats about it? could possibly also tag as dubcon just in case, enjoy!
Izuku has known you since a little before joining uni. He was invited to move in early under the honors program along with Katsuki. Other groups who were also invited to join early were fall athletes, greek sororities and fraternities, and people in majors that take longer than 8 years to finish. As if an academic rival, hotheaded, bully from younger years wasn't enough.. you came along.
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You had always had a class or two with him. Whether it be preliminary classes or your third year science credit. He doesn’t know why you don't like him, always calling him names just loud enough for him to hear or purposely shutting the door on him in pouring rain.. but the day he saw you at the buffet talking and laughing with Katsuki? His life was over. You made it hell. He thought you were so pretty when he first saw you.. but you were just such. a bitch.
Katsuki didn't have the same timed honors classes but slept in the same building. If he really wanted to avoid him, he could go to the library or study in one of the cafes. Then again there was the rec center.. or he could stay with a friend, even. But you. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried. 
He'd catch himself staring at the door until you came in, seeing your hair done in different styles and colors but still be so gorgeous. you could pull everything off. there was also this shiny pink lip gloss you started wearing.. It frustrated him how much he thought about how soft they’d feel against his skin, He's never pined after a girl this long. Sure he's had girlfriends over the years, but you lingered in the back of his mind. And you thought of him like dirt under your BAPEs.
You were hardly ever late, walking in a few minutes before class starts to set up your computer, drink if you decided you wanted one that morning, and switch your music playlist over. The class itself was pretty easy, not too many essays or homework assignments. It was more projects and group discussions than anything, which was probably the only real frustrating thing about this class. As the last few people struggled through the door, the professor started writing on the board.
MIDTERMS.
fuck.
“This is the last project before midterms. you will be graded on..” You drowned him out, rubbing your temples as the mention of midterms came up. Another fucking project? Are you serious? Honors kids never really learned to.. well. play, very well with others. Mostly stuck up kids were pretty disconnected from real life because their mommies and daddies paid to get them into the dorms and therefore, classes, with average Bs and Cs. The other half of the class had their heads so far up their asses there wasn’t ever a moment they weren’t passive aggressive or came off in an ‘i’m right you’re wrong’ tone. The class let out a groan everytime he announced some dumbass idea like this but he still continues. what the fuck is my life??
You sigh to yourself, rubbing your lips together as you begin to pick at the little jewels on your nails. Was it worth it to just do the entire thing by yourself so you aren't depending on anyone? No reason to get docked another few times because someone can't finish their half. This shit was pointless. The frequent ice breakers were pointless. You knew most of these people already and-
“Mr. Midoriya and Miss L/n, Miss Teller and Miss Barnes, Mr. Andrews and..” Once again you drowned out your professor's words, eyes darting over to Izuku who was staring at your teacher gobsmacked. He could feel his face burn, jaw slightly slack before shutting it nervously. He glanced over at you to see if you had been paying attention, smiling at you and giving a small pathetic wave. 
You squinted daggers at him, biting the corner of your mouth before giving a sympathy smile and turning to the assignment on the laptop. I guess it wasn't too horrible.. realistically I can make him do the work and spend the time doing more important work like studying for my major.. 
the mumbling, the stuttering, always staring, always being the first to leave for a quiz. it wasn't until you saw his name over and over again that it was a real problem. try hards are annoying. lucky for you, this one's a pussy. 
As class ended, you packed your things and headed towards the door to leave. Izuku quickly caught up with you, snaking his way through the crowd of people leaving the lecture hall. “Where'd you want to um.. to meet up? Or when-”
you cut him off before he could go spouting at the mouth. “Not worth the effort, I have more important shit to do over the next few weeks than work on some lame project. Do it for the both of us, We both know you have nothing better to do.” You continue walking away from him and onto your next class.
He stands for a moment, sighing and flatting his lips together. It shouldn't be too hard to do..right?
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He debated. this. repeatedly. He really didn't want to bother, but he needed your help. He had shit to do this week! Laundry was piling up, he hasn't been going to the gym as frequent, other classes and midterms on top of the project. But every time he tried to confront you about your attitude, you have some comeback or degrading thing to say.. You bat your dumb long lashes and smack your lip gloss against your lips. He hated how fast he gave up arguing back.. it made his pants a little too tight and his eye twitch from hell. However, he was not doing this by himself. He had a rough week as it was and he's tired of letting you push him around.
He knocked on your door the Sunday before it was due, listening to you shuffle around your room before opening the door in some short shorts and one of those girly tank tops with a small bow in the middle. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare collarbone, used to seeing your name littered across it with gold jewelry before his verdant eyes quickly averted themselves back to your sharp gaze. Before he could stutter out his reasoning for being there first, or even say hello, you spoke.
“What is it?” You scratched the top of your bonnet, yawning quietly. You slip a hand under your shirt to scratch at your stomach, watching the flustered man in front of you watch your every move just to dart his attention somewhere deeper into your apartment. “If it’s about that stupid project, i’d rather rot in hell than work with you.” 
“It’s due tomorrow y/n, can’t we just get it done? I’ve done more than.. I wanna say seventy percent of it? But I have a life too you know-” He’s cut off by your laughter, watching you turn and head back to your couch. You left the door open for him to come in if he was really serious. which was a pretty low chance that he was. you guys have played this game before.
“That’s a really funny joke, izuku. ‘I have a life’, ha!” you tease, plopping onto your cushions and grabbing the remote.
“I know you have nothing better to do than school work, if you’re so close to done, finish it. I already made my own, virgin.” you fibbed, you started your own, but of course this was the one project you needed to genuinely depend on someone else. you unpaused your show, waiting to hear him shut the door in defeat.
Izuku stood in the doorway for a beat, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking in. He respectfully took his shoes off at the before shutting the door roughly behind him. 
“Can you please.” He heard his voice begin to rattle with anger, taking a deep breath in and sighing before speaking once more. 
“Can we just get this project done? Please.” The straps of his bag burned into his hand as he gripped it with vigor. He tried his best to control himself, watching you flinch at the shut of the door but at least he had your legitimate attention. 
“Please stop making this harder than it has to be.” He stared down at you, his tone slowly fixing itself. He didn't want to be an asshole.
But he was serious. You weren't scared, but you did kinda feel bad. Normally picking and poking didn't make him too upset. He was pretty used to it by now. He sounded actually upset for the first time in a long time. You felt something in your brain tell you to finish this stupid thing, motioning to set up at the dining room table. you watched him set his bag down, listening to his anything but quiet muttering. “Thank you for not being a stubborn bitch, y/n..”
oh??
oh???
“What did you say?” you turned your television off, tossing the remote on the couch before storming over to him. 
“Speak up. You got somethin to say in my fucking apartment then say it to my face, Loser ass bitch.” He was sitting down with almost everything out on the table, looking down into his bag to grab a few more things out from the bottom. You slammed your hand on the table as you spoke, the other hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. You wanted to see who the fuck he was talking to.
 “I said,” He turned his body to face yours, face burning red from irritation with a prominent look of annoyance on his face. “Thank you for not being a stubborn. Bitch. All you have done the past few weeks is make it incredibly difficult to get something done that I know we can do in two days. Stop making this harder than it has to be. I’ve seen you on about every story any. time. Theres some fucking party. You have nothing better to be doing than sitting down and working.” 
“What a fucking weirdo, you stalkin’ me now, Izuku? Nothin better to do than look for me on niggas snapchat?” You swipe the papers he set up off of your dining room table like a cat, not caring how close to being set up he was.
Come to think of it. The only parties you really went to were the ones Katsuki and his friends threw, the last two had been a tailgating party and someone's birthday but.. 
You smile, lowering yourself to be eye to eye with him. Your words came out dripping with honey but still so sour. “Is this because I hang out with ‘suki? You jealous I got my mind on someone other than you and making your life miserable, wimp?”
Your voice died out in your throat as he stood up, snatching your jaw hard enough to establish he meant business. You felt yourself trip forward slightly from a little tug, his blush pink lips twitching as if they wanted to smirk instead of looking so mean. 
“Mention him or say one more thing about how im a ‘loser’ or a ‘virgin’ again, and i'll make you forget how to walk. Keep it up, y/n. I am not in the fuckin’ mood for your bitter. shit.” He watched your facial expression change, praying his hard on wouldn't poke your thigh as you two stood incredibly close to each other.
He was far from wimpy looking.. six foot four, athletic build, and freckles covered his face. He was attractive, smart, just never hung out with the people you hung out with. You knew that. But it didn't stop the names, or the picking. He never really tried to stop you, maybe when you'd take it too far but more often than not he'd just sit and look at you and.. well, listen.
You bit your bottom lip softly, blinking a few times before staring up at him with half lidded eyes. “Take the bitter taste from my mouth then.. Talkin’ a lot of game for someone who looks like he’s gotten pussy maybe, twice in his life?” The confidence in your voice had definitely faltered, It’s not like you haven't imagined riding this dummy until the sun came up. Hes just so fucking annoying. it would be incredibly satisfying to watch his damn near virgin ass cream under you. you just weren't expecting him to be so..
Shoving his lips against yours and mumbling your train of thought, Izuku pulled you close before snaking a hand down to grope your ass. You yelp in response, tangling your hand into his messy green curls. He walked you backwards until your legs nudged against the couch, hands roaming to touch what they could of your skin. He's wanted to for so long. 
You slide next to the arm of the couch, whining softly when he pulls his lips from yours. He motioned down to the floor, watching you grab a pillow from the couch and set it under your knees. Finally speaking again, He starts untying his drawstrings. “I don't wanna hear anything out of you, we clear?” 
“crystal, in fact, anything for-” 
smack!
“What part of  ‘I don’t want to hear anything out of you’ don’t you get? Is it too hard for you to comprehend?”  He mocked your pout, continuing to speak as he tugged his joggers and boxers down to his knees. “Fleshlights don’t talk. Especially after how you treated me for so long.” He mumbled the last part, tugging his clothing down to his mid thigh.
Your eyes teared up from shock, not pain. He didn't hit hard, but it did leave a small sting on your cheek. You felt your back straighten, looking up at him with pleading eyes before muttering out a small apology. 
is that how quick you'd give yourself up? He thought to himself, pink tip now sitting in front of your lips as it glistened with pre-cum. is this how easy it was all along? “Stick your tongue out. Too late to be sorry.” 
You slide your tongue out slowly, staring up at him as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. he almost felt.. bad. was he being too mean? he tapped his tip against your tongue a few times, watching you move forward on your own to take him in your mouth. 
...maybe not mean enough.
He positioned his hands behind your head, making a makeshift ponytail before pulling you closer to his groin. He stared down at you, letting out a small groan before sighing in relief. He began to guide you along his cock dreadfully slow, watching your eyes fill with tears. He let out a soft chuckle. 
“Ah.. for as much as I hear you run your mouth, your pretty good at shutting the fuck up too. Use that tongue too, slut.” He let out a few moans under shaky breath, smirking and leaning his head back. You let your jaw go slack so he could use your throat how he wanted, trying to focus on the most important thing. breathing. Tears stream down your cheeks, trying your hardest not to gag against his cock.
“Gonna cum on your face..so y-..you’ll remember this and how fucking disgusting you really are.” He rutted into your throat sloppily, pulling away after you tapped his thigh a few times. He watched spit drip down your chin, hand going to rub his thumb over his tip.
You gasp to catch your breath, putting a hand on the ground and the other on your chest. Saliva had dripped down to your shirt, letting out a few coughs. You rub your tears away, wiping your chin. "Who knew someone like y..you could be so big n mean.." You look up at him, feeling the release of your hair. 
“Suck my dick like I showed you and I won’t have to be mean.” His face was red and sweaty, cock twitching in his hand from the coolness of your apartment. You nod, moving your hand to help you keep up with such a messy pace he had. 
You whimpered, hearing him degrade you even further. He called you a free use whore, a cumdump.. noticing the way your thighs clenched together before hovering a hand behind your head. He watched you quicken your pace, a whiny moan leaving his mouth when your tongue swirled over the nerves in his tip. 
He shivered, breath getting shaky before pulling away from you to finish over your lips and watching the mess cover your face. His hard-on twitched as he let out a sighing in somewhat relief. there's no way that he was still going, right?
“Get on the couch,” He said in a calmly, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched you scramble to get up, sitting on the couch and attempting to clean your own face before feeling him snatch your jaw up into his hand.
“Ready to finally do our fucking work? or does your slutty cunt want attention now?” He laughed at how disheveled you looked, feeling the wetness under your chin leak onto his hand.
you blink the tears from your eyes, trying to stutter out your response before he spoke for you. “Dumb Whore. Bet you do. You get to cum on my fingers first,” 
You let out a whine whether volintarty or not, seeing his lip twitch into a small smirk. “What? My fingers aren't enough?” He moved ro rub at your clit, classused fingers pressing against you in slow circles.
“Whine all you want, You don't deserve anything more than my fingers.” He growled out, standing between your legs and opening them wider with his own. How embarrassing, to be folded up on the couch by someone you ‘hated’ so bad.
“Be lucky if I let you cum at all.” He tugs your panties to the side, dipping two fingers into you and curling them a few times. “Holy shit.. You’re soaked.” He spoke half in genuine shock and astonishment, half to degrade you. He lifted your leg to rest on his hip, pulling your panties down just enough to where he could rub your clit with his thumb and slid his fingers back in. 
You squeak, knee nudging into his side as you twitch and squirm against his fingers in pleasure. They were thick, curling and poking at that spot deeper than you thought they'd go. He still looked irritated as ever, but there was definitely also a look of admiration in his eyes. He seemed to be focusing, moving his fingers faster before making a scissoring motion with his fingers.
It was a lot, cocoa-colored eyes trying to blink the tears away that wouldn't stop forming in your eyes. “iii...izu!!” you plead, back pressing even harder into your couch as he basically climbed on top of you to finger fuck you. “It’s too muuuch- sensitive!” you tried pushing his hand from your clit only to be met with his other hand pinning it next to you.
“I bet kacchan doesn't do this to you.. Make you feel this good..” And there was that constant muttering under his breath. It wasn't hard to understand it when he was in such close proximity to you, but maybe he assumed you couldn't hear him. was he really boasting to you or himself..?
no. he was jealous. you concluded, deciding to run your mouth a little, a small smirk forming onto your plump lips. you haven't done anything with katsuki and it wasn’t really on your list to fuck community dick. but if that's what izuku thought, so be it.
“M.. makes me feel be..better!” you struggle to say, feeling him pull his fingers from your sopping cunt. you feel the knot that had been building up so quickly start to dissipate, an annoyed huff leaving your lips in response. His smirk turned into a disappointed frown, gritting his teeth before letting your wrist go and pinning your knees to your shoulders with, frankly, big hands.
“I’m gonna hit your cervix till you’re shaking,” He stated, lining his tip up before sliding into you with one big thrust. you felt your thighs ache, the warmth of his cock making you shiver. you felt full, closing your eyes tight and pushing at the arm that pinned your legs down. you wanted to hold onto him, bite, do anything to calm down how good it felt. It was overwhelming in the best way.
He slammed into you, pulling back slowly just to slam even harder into you. His lips curled back into a smirk, watching your body jolt and moving his arms to rest on either side of you. He felt you embrace him, legs trying to wrap themselves around him. He smiled into your shoulder, thrusting faster into you.
“iiizuuu.. nnghh.. h-hah please..” you pleaded, clenching around him. “ ‘m s.. ngh sorry. ‘M sorrryyyy, izu.. I am!! “ your nails raked down his shirt, gripping onto the fabric as your eyes began to roll back in pleasure.
“Now you’re sorry?” He asks into your shoulder, pulling back to move your heels onto his shoulders. He gave slow thrusts, staring down at you and your attempts to catch your breath. you nod as if your life depended on it, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer.
He moves a hand to rub over your clit quickly, watching you writhe in pleasure before continuing to thrust into you. You were seeing stars.. so much so you ended up squirting on his t-shirt. He laughs a bit, breaking into a moan as he pulls out of you. He jerked the tip of his cock for a few seconds, cumming and ruining your shirt in return.
Letting out a worn out but soft sigh, Izuku sat next to you tiredly. you try to blink yourself back into reality, feeling gross with all of the different.. hormones.  That happened to land on you and your clothing. “If you ruined my c..couch you get me a new one, nerd..” you huff out, sitting up and leaning onto his shoulder.
He leaned his head into your touch, hand wrapping around your waist. “Do you want my help to the bathroom so you can clean off?” He also needed to, but knew no way around your apartment and wasn't exactly gonna just leave you like this to search for one.
you nod, leaning into his bicep as he helped you towards your bathroom to strip you both of your soiled clothes. The project could wait another hour or so, right?
©if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!
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have a good day/night/whatever!
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taurasiscntybun · 3 days ago
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But we’re roommates! Pt 2
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-College DT x nerdy reader
-18 plus minors DNI
-Warnings: Adult language, anxiety, internalized homophobia, descriptions of foreplay, virginity kink
-2,800 words
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Diana’s POV
I shove my headphone over my head, my hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, the curls threatening to escape. 50 cent blares in my ear as I cross through the hallway of the dormitory.
“Distracts me?” I mutter to myself. I don’t understand my weird ass roommate, it’s rare she actually talks to me, even rarer that she comes close. Maybe it’s for the best, if she knew the thoughts I had about her I'm sure she’d never speak to me again.
“Distracts me?” I mumble again, I’m stuck on that, it has to fucking mean something. Why would it bother her if I’m in my sports bra? I wish she wouldn’t walk around in her goddamn tank top and shorts, well not really, I think her thin sleep shirt is my favorite thing she owns. I let out a groan as I picture her, the thin fabric stretching over her tits.
“Fuck” I mumble and shake my head to clear the thoughts. If only she knew how distracting she was, I keep my music blaring so I don’t notice her. I already know today is going to be a waste in class. Not that I give two fucks about my English class, as long as I get a C I can keep my scholarship and keep playing basketball. I should care more, I’m the first in my family to go to college; I’m not gonna flunk out or some shit but I’m happy with getting by. I hate my English class the most, what the fuck am I learning by reading Beowulf and Pride and Prejudice? At least my roomie helps me with English, she’s so smart. I turn up the volume on my mp3 player, keeping my mind from drifting to thoughts about my nervous baby bunny. I wave to a few people as I walk through the green, I don’t know everyone but since my face was on the fucking school magazine everyone seems to know me. Finally I get to one of the biggest buildings on campus, it’s on the other side of the fucking campus from my dorm but at least most of my classes are here. I glance down at my watch and swear under my breath, I’m like five minutes late.
“Miss Taurasi, you do know class starts at nine, correct?” My professor says, a smug look on his face.
“Yes sir, I got held up this morning.” I reply and flop down in my seat, pulling out my notebook.
“It’s five minutes, can he fucking chillax?” I mumble under my breath as he drones on about the oral history of Beowulf. I should be paying attention, I should be taking notes, but I can’t stop thinking about my fucking roommate. The way my hands fit perfectly around her waist, her touching my shoulder, her soft voice saying I’m distracting plays over and over in my head. It means something, it has too; why would my sweaty body be distracting to her? I look up from my blank notebook, realizing.
”Fuck, she’s attracted to me.” I mutter without thinking and a few heads turn my way but I ignore them. Now all I want is my classes to be over so I can get back to my dorm.
“Oh god, shit.” You say and run your fingers through your hair. Your classes start a little later in the day, back to back history classes then humanities. You stare at Diana’s unmade bed and replay your conversation. You had admitted she was distracting, you’d said her body was distracting.
“God she’s gonna think I’m some lesbo weirdo.” You mutter and pace the small space.
”No.. no.. it’s normal to be distracted, she’s hot.” You try and reassure yourself but it doesn’t work, you know deep down that the feelings you have towards Diana aren’t platonic. You want to feel her big hands on you, her lips, her everything, you want to be consumed by her presence. She’s gorgeous, a mix of strong muscles and soft curves that make your mouth water.
“Don’t be weird, it’s fine, it’s fine.” You dress quickly, a tank top and loose cargo pants and hurry out the door for class; your mind clouded with anxiety with before class.
The rest of the day goes by in a droning bore, your classes blurring together as your stomach tumbles in anxiety. When your last class leaves you bolt for the door and race across campus to your dorm. Diana’s day ends before yours but she has practice so it’s fine.
“Calm down, calm down, its fine, she’s at practice and I’m sure she doesn’t even remember what I said this morning.” You mutter as you fit the key in your dorm room door. You swing it open and yelp as Diana looks up at you from her bed.
”Finally you're home, I didn't know when your last class ended.” She says and stands to come closer.
”No it’s Monday, your math class lets out at four and your practice starts at four-thirty, why are you here? It’s five?” You say and shake your head.
“You memorized my schedule?” She asks and cocks her head to the side, her hair is down for once and the dark curls bob as she turns her head.
”I..I..I wanted to know the times you wouldn’t be here, for.. for studying.” You stammer, still standing in the open doorway. Diana gives you a wolffish grin and takes another step towards you, she’s in touching distance now but she feels much closer, her large statue looming.
”Oh yes because I’m so distracting right?”
“Y..your music and..and..” You stammer but she cuts you off by grabbing you and pulling you into the room, the door clicking shut and locking behind her.
”We dont need to have this talk with the door open.” Diana says in a hushed tone, her hands still on your arms.
”And I know, you find me walking around in my sports bra very distracting right?” She taunts, her thumbs rubbing up and down your bare arms, leaving goosebumps along your skin.
”I..I..”
“Why does my body distract you Baby bunny?” She whispers, drawing you even closer.
”I’m not the genius you are but could I be distracting you because you find me hot?” She’s standing so close now you could count the freckles across her face, she looks down at you with a serious expression, something you're not used to. You look up at her slack jawed and you know you're blushing but you can’t stop. You try to think of something, anything to say to her but your mind is drawing a blank.
”Y..yes you..you are pretty but..but lots of g..girls are pretty.” You stammer and try to pull away but her grip tightens to nearly painful.
”Do you look at a lot of other girls?” She whispers and searches your face.
”I..I mean a normal amount, everyone notices pretty girls right? I mean you notice pretty girls right?” You answer nervously and look down. Diana moves one of her hands from your arm to under your chin and she tilts your head up gently to look at her.
”Oh yeah, I notice pretty girls, all the time, but then again I don’t notice boys.. if you understand what I mean. I definitely fucking notice you. You think I’m distracting? Baby I can hardly think when you're around, everything comes out in a rush of word vomit when you look at me with your big eyes.” She’s leaned down to you, your air mingling as her eyes dart from yours to your lips.
“Do you feel the same way baby? Am I right?” Diana says, her tone so hushed its barely audible over the roaring in your ears. The room feels too small, Diana too close, you can’t breathe let alone think. As if she can read your thoughts she takes a step back and lets go of your arms, raising her hands in surrender.
“Tell me I’m wrong, tell me to fuck off and I’ll never bring it up again, I’ll even wear a shirt all the time.“ Her eyes search your face and you can see the quiet vulnerability in her face. You’re frozen, not able to deny how you feel but not knowing what to say either. Diana looks at you concerned and then a look of understanding crosses over her face.
“You’re new to liking girls aren’t you? Or rather new to admitting it to yourself?” Her tone is soft and her gaze warm. She sits on her bed and pats the place next to her.
“It’s ok, everyone’s been there.” You take a tentative step towards her, trying to think of anything to say.
“If you don’t say anything cause you’re scared of rejection, don’t be.” Diana says in a hushed tone and you sit, she immediately puts her hand on your thigh, nothing scandalous just resting on your knee but it was enough to get your blood heating.
“I don’t know why I feel this way about… about you.” You say softly and turn to look at her.
“Are you attracted to me? Do you get distracted by my body because it turns you on? You don’t understand why I affect you… it’s nothing I did baby, you just like women.” Diana says and grins, her touch on your thigh turning teasing as she traced patterns on your inner thigh; the calluses on her long fingers leaving goosebumps under your pants.
“It’s ok, I feel the same way, I want you baby, fuck I want to kiss you all the time, I want you to come to my games in my jersey. I want to devour you.” Her tone dropped as she spoke and she squeezed your thigh for emphasis on the last part. You let out a hushed whimper and she moved closer, her hand moving up your thigh.
“You gotta say something babygirl, I’m not going to keep touching you unless I’m sure you want it.” She starts to pull away and immediately you feel the loss of contact and speak before thinking.
“No please keep touching me. Fuck I want you to touch me please.” You admit and she grinned.
“Thank fuck.” Diana groans and doesn’t give you a chance to respond before pulling you in tight, her lips crashing into yours. You freeze, your body locking up under the foreign touch.
“Come on baby, let go, let me show you how I good I can make you feel.” Diana says and kisses down your neck.
“Don’t think, just feel; you want me to keep touching you? Well I want you to touch me too, give in baby.” She almost begs and her soft suck on your pulse point makes you come undone. You melt against her, and pull her down for another kiss. Your kiss is clumsy and unpracticed but passionate; Diana’s hand comes up behind you and tangles in your hair, tilting your head back as she takes control. She slows your kiss, her mouth moving against yours with practiced ease.
“God you don’t know what you do to me.” Diana practically growls and pulls away a bit.
“Talk to me baby.” She begs and strokes your back.
”Im sorry I..I’m not good at this at uh talking about stuff.” You manage to say and she grins.
“No apologies baby, you don’t need to try, just be you.” She kisses down your jaw and you gasp.
“O..Ok” you say in a breathy tone, collecting yourself a bit.
”I like you, i really like you in a way I haven’t liked another girl before and I didn't know what to do or how to act because i didn't want you to think I’m a freak but then that meant you needed to stay away from me because my like brain stops working when you're around.” Your words tumble out a fast long sentence and Diana pulls away to process your words.
“Firstly I dont think you're a freak, I’m actually super fucking happy that you have feelings for me because fuck I’ve wanted you since you walked into this dorm all wide eyed and excited the first day.” She smiles and pulls you close again, this time in a tight hug, Diana was successfully breaking your walls down, bit by little bit. She waited until she felt you relax in her embrace to speak.
“When you see me walking around in my underwear what are you thinking baby?” She whispers against your hair, her tone low.
”I..I..” You start to stutter in response.
”You tell me and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking when I see you in your cute little pajamas.” She teases, moving her head down to whisper in your ear.
“I..I think about your body and.. and how much I like it and want to touch you. I..I think about your boobs probably too much and your uh sweaty sports bras hide little.” You admit and pull away again, sitting next to her. Diana raises her eyebrows in question.
”My…boobs?” She asks and looks down at her somewhat flat chest.
“Yes yes I think about them all the time, every time I see you without a bra at night or when you walk around after practice. God Diana were you not doing that on purpose?” You ask, you're softening, feeling more comfortable with her now that your crush was out in the open. Diana laughs and shakes her head incredulously.
”I honestly just started dressing in here because it seemed to annoy you and you look so adorable when you're mad but you weren’t mad were you? You were horny?” She hooks a finger in your belt loop and tugs you towards her, forcing your body to angle to her. You blush and look down at your hands in your lap.
“Nah baby dont get shy on me now, you were just telling me how much you like my boobs.” Diana’s hands cover yours and you tilt your head to look at her.
“Do you wanna see ‘em baby?” Her voice drops to a whisper and she looks down at you with heat in her gaze. You suddenly realize yes, you’d very much like to see her boobs and the rest of her.
”Yes, Diana I..I want you.” You say in a shaky tone and bite your lip. She lets out a groan in response.
“Ok , you can have me but fuck that means I get you, I get to really know you, you gotta let me in.” Dianas words came out in almost a plea, she needed you as much as you needed her right now.
“Yes I promise Dee you can-“
”Don’t call me that.” She cuts you off abruptly and you look at her in confusion.
”But everyone calls you that?”
“Yeah but you aren’t everyone and you’ve never called me Dee, I uh I like that you're the only one that calls me by my full name. To everyone Im Dee or DT but you have always called me Diana.” She brings your hands to her lips and kisses across your knuckles; you're left breathless by the reverence in her touch.
”Diana I promise I’ll be myself, I want you, I don’t want to hide from you anymore.” You admit to her as she kisses your knuckles again.
“Thank god baby, now I want to touch you, I want to touch you everywhere, can I?” Diana asks softly and drags her big hands up your arms.
“I wanna show you how much I like you.” Her thumbs hook under the thin straps of your tank top and pulls them down your shoulders.
”I..I dont know what to do, i.. I’ve never..” You stutter and she groans low in her throat.
”Fuck are you telling me you're a virgin?” Her thumbs move in small circles on your shoulders as she looks down at you predatorily.
“Y..yeah I uh have never with uh anyone.” You say quietly, a touch embarrassed.
”But you want me to touch you right? You want me to make you cum dont you baby bunny?” She asks in a raspy tone, dipping her head to kiss down your neck.
“Y.yes Diana p..please.” You say and let your head lull to the side giving her more access.
“Mhhmm you're so beautiful.” She said against your skin, one hand fisted in your hair to gently lean your head and her other hand wandered up your body, teasing at the hem of your shirt.
“Diana please I..I want you to make me cum I… I want you.” You whine and arch your back into her touch, your body automatically knowing what to do. Diana chuckles against your skin and places one more kiss on your pulse point before pulling away.
“Ok baby but first I need you out of these clothes.” She leans down and starts untying your sneakers, her long finger moving deftly as she undoes the knot and slips the shoe off you.
“Lay back, lemme take care of you.” She says softly and kisses your inner ankle sending a buzz of heat through your body. Diana repeats her actions with your other shoe then stands.
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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 6 hours ago
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You've always been my favorite
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Yandere!Jonathan Levy x f!reader
Cw/triggers: Stalking, possessive behavior, darkfic, Jonathan masturbates to porn, twisted thoughts, some dub-con/non-con thoughts on Jonathan's side, yandere themes.
A/n: I'm sorry for potentially traumatizing you.
Summary: Jonathan is your new professor. But he had his eyes on you for a long time.
After your professor has quit, a new one, Jonathan Levy was quick in replacement.
You knew Jonathan Levy. He was the one jumping in if some of your other professors were sick. Though you didn't think much of him, he on the other hand quickly began to like you a little too much, even for his own good. He became a bit attached to you to say the least.
Jonathan was the professor teaching most things, so he was the one you did see mostly during class.
"I hope you all are prepared for out big exam coming up in one hour." Jonathan said shortly after entering the room, not bothering to look if anyone is missing, placing his bag down beside his desk.
After he sat comfortable in his seat, adjusting his glasses, Jonathan looked around the class.
Two people were missing, but one of them called in sick, the other one still missing were you.
Just as Jonathan thought about the possibilities of what could be, the door opened and you stumbled in with a thermos in hand.
"You're late..." he said with a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"Sorry," you replied bluntly, "I've overslept a bit."
After you were back in your seat, Jonathan cleared his throat and leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.
"Alright everybody, get comfy, get your books out if you haven't already and get prepared. I'll give you one hour."
Jonathan watched the class, his eyes however were fixed on you as he nonchalantly opened his book then started reading himself.
Throughout the hour, Jonathan threw occasional glances towards you, he liked seeing you concentrate, but even more when you pay attention to him.
When the time finally came to hand out his exams, he made sure you were the last one to receive it only so he could say good luck while being close to you without making himself look suspicious, especially not towards you.
Jonathan wondered how you were doing but had no doubt in your knowledge. He knew you could do well, and if not, he was there to help you.
After the exam was done and everyone handed them back to Jonathan, he overheard you and a friend talking about staying late for study in the library after class, his ears perked up and he had to stop himself from smiling.
When the class ended, Jonathan packed his things. He knew the library would ultimately close in 3 hours, and you would likely stay until the end. So he made his way into his office, open his laptop and just browse around. He even stalked your social media accounts.
Jonathan took his time to start correcting some of the exams, until he finally got everything together to make a leave but not before passing the library just as you and that one friend walked out.
Lucky for him, you two parted ways. Jonathan usually isn't one for stalking, but you were an exception for him. Though he already had an excuse made up in his mind if you did actually catch him.
While you walked, you were completely oblivious on Jonathan walking behind you at a good distance. He kept his head low and his hands in his pockets. Sure he knew where you lived but he wanted to make sure you'd arrive there safely. It would be a shame if something would happen to you.
By the time you arrived home, Jonathan thought about how he could rig your exam, just so he could see you more whether it would be some actual private tutoring or maybe after class, preferably alone. Oh how he would love that.
But he was a fair man, and wouldn't normally want to... abuse his job for... personal needs. But Jonathan was ready for a few exceptions.
Jonathan was ready to leave and call it a day, but not before looking back at your house, examining it from afar.
He didn't know much about break ins, but he could watch some tutorials online on how to do it professional. With a quick go to the darknet, he would surely find something...
As Jonathan arrived back home, he decided to correct those exams first so the boring part would be out of the way. He wasn't tired, if anything, he felt kind of energized.
Jonathan reviewed your exam at last, only so he could write down where you need most help and where you'd be okay. After the correcting was done, Jonathan went to his computer, firstly visiting his go-to porn site after a long and mostly boring day. But you weren't part of the boring part, you were always the highlight.
After browsing though cheap scripted and bad acting ones, he finally found a good looking one for a quick stress relief.
Unzipping his pants, he pulled his semi-hard cock out, working himself up with slow strokes while watching the video.
As the pleasure built up, he couldn't help but let his mind wander off to you, how you're always pay attention to him, not questioning his authority as your professor while also being his good student.
He stroked faster, spreading the leaking precum around the tip and shaft while tightening his fist. Jonathan knew he could just easily bend you over his desk and have his way with you however he pleased.
His thoughts even went as far as bending you over his knees and spanking you then fucking you stupid on his desk as punishment.
Regardless of what his mind came up with, it always ended up fucking you. Imagining things such as having you suck him off while he's in the middle of class, or eating you out while you're reading a goddamn book.
Closing his eyes and leaning back, listening to the moans of that girl in the video, imagining how this would be you moaning when he's having you. And he will have you one day.
As badly as Jonathan wanted to hold his impending orgasm back, thinking about all the nasty things he wanted to do to you he couldn't resist chasing his peak.
"Fuck, how good it would feel to have you wrapped around me," he squeezed his cock again "whether you like it or not."
Jonathan's breathing hitched before becoming heavier.
"Mmm, but I'm certain you would love getting fucked by me, even if you wouldn't admit it, baby."
With one last stroke he came hard, spilling his cum on the ground. He threw his head back against the chair, his cock softening in the grip of his fist.
After he was done, he shut down his computer, grabbed a wet rag and cleaned his cum off the ground before he went to bed.
The next day, his day passed quickly, mainly because most of his attention was drawn to you. You looked so happy with the results of your exam. You deserved it, being the good student that you are and the cherry on top, even unknown to you, being his favorite.
Jonathan had approached you, asking if you could stay for a couple minutes after class for a quick discussion about the results of your recent exam.
After everyone was out of the room, Jonathan leaned against the desk and crossed his arms while you were still sitting at your place.
"So," he started, uncrossing his arms to walk over to you, leaning down with his hands on the edges of your desk. "You did good mostly. But in order to pass this good, you have to be good in any of these, not just one. They all count."
You nodded. "I understand."
"And I'm not doing this to torture you, I hope you know that. I just want what's best for you." Jonathan said in a lower and slightly huskier tone, looking into your eyes with a serious expression.
He pushed himself off of your table, moving back to lean against his with his arms crossed again. "What I'm trying to say here is that I'm willing to help you."
"I know. But I hate asking people to throw their time away because of me. I will study more from now on, I promise." you replied.
Jonathan smiled. "That's good to hear." he knew you would try giving your best, but what kind of professor would he be if he wouldn't offer his help to his student?
"Well, you can go now, I'd hate to take your precious freetime away."
You gave a gentle smile, grabbing your bag and stood up. "Thanks Mr. Levy, have a good day." you said before making your leave.
After you've left, Jonathan let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.
Back at his home, Jonathan had atleast half his mind being busy on you. He couldn't help it, why was he even acting like that? He didn't know either, but does he want to stop? Absolutely not.
Jonathan was even at the point where he didn't care about good senses anymore, that's how far he'd go for you.
What he did next was wait for nighttime to come, then he went out going to your house. Breaking into your home was relatively easy, but he still hoped you would be in deep slumber already.
It didn't take him long to find your bedroom, he sneaked into your room like a cat, already loving how he could just sneak in without you noticing anything.
He had to stop himself from wanting to search through some of your belongings, feeling way more bold now that he was in your house.
Of course his eyes were trained on you, he didn't want you to wake up and alert the whole neighborhood with your screaming.
Jonathan crouched down at your bedside, simply admiring your peaceful, unaware and beautiful sleeping face.
He reached out, pulling your covers off just a tiny bit, revealing more of you. Leaning in, he closed his eyes, enjoying the smell of everything you had on you. His fingertips glid carefully along the curve of your neck.
Jonathan felt so at peace with finally being so close to you, albeit if you're sleeping.
"It won't take long until you're mine, sweetheart."
-----------------------------
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@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
@krakenkitty @mooksmouse @klillaah @faretheeoscar @alexxavicry
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galactic-magick · 1 hour ago
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Maybe in Another Universe, You're Still the Man I Love: Viktor x Reader
Summary: You get sent to the same alternate timeline with Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you find out just how wonderful your life could've been.
Words: 2.1k
Author's Notes: Yeah so that finale sent me into deep grief and writing is the only way I can heal I fear. I hope you enjoy this interpretation of what Viktor could be doing in the alternate timeline.
“Are you alright, darling?”
Your vision comes into focus, though your head is still pounding. You’re extremely nauseous, feeling like your body is not your own as you become aware of the all-too-familiar voice that just spoke to you.
You’re sitting on a desk in an Academy classroom, journals and various papers surrounding you. The sun is shining through the windows, cascading gold onto the other desks and tables. It’s a peaceful, simple sight. Something that feels so wrong for precisely that reason.
“I don’t have another class for a while, you can talk to me,” Viktor says, brushing his fingers against your face. “Care to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”
You suppose you look like you’ve seen a ghost, which isn’t so far from the truth. You must be dreaming—maybe hallucinating—anything to explain how this isn’t real.
“I…” you start, failing to find the words to say.
-
You storm into the lab, locking your eyes on the empty hexcore cocoon, then at Jayce.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“I don’t know!” Jayce fires back at you, clearly just as distraught as you are. “He woke up and told me he needed to leave me and this place. I have no idea where he went!”
“Why didn’t you follow him?” you scream, your mind spinning. Who knows how the hexcore changed him, he could literally be anywhere.
“He didn’t want me to! What don’t you understand?” Jayce slumps back into his chair, his face in his hands. As soon as he notices a tear fall down your cheek, his tone softens. “Look, I...we both know he’s been different since he started messing with the hexcore. He had told me to destroy it...but I couldn’t. And now he’s even more different. I’m so sorry,”
“Jayce…” you walk towards him. “I’m not blaming you for anything that’s happened. He’s been pushing both of us away for a long time. I guess...I just thought maybe when he woke up he’d love me again like he used to. Did he even ask about me?”
Jayce shakes his head, and your heart sinks even further.
-
“I think I’m dreaming,” you finally say, and Viktor tilts his head. “This...this isn’t real. We’re not like this, we haven’t been like this in a long time. You’re not...what are you here, a professor?”
He cups your face and kisses your forehead, “Darling, I don’t think you’ve been getting enough sleep, you’re talking nonsense,”
“No, no, no,” you jump off the desk and pace around the room. “If this isn’t a dream, then where am I? Some sort of other reality?”
“You mean to say you believe...this is not your world?” Viktor takes in your words intently.
“Well in my world, you fell out of love with me in favor of your work, and then you nearly died and got severely mutated by the hexcore. So yeah, I’d say things are pretty different,”
He raises an eyebrow, “Hex...core?”
“You don’t have that here?”
“Seemingly not,”
You sigh, perching yourself back on the desk, “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“No, I...I have theorized the possibility of alternate universes before, but I never thought I would come face to face with it in my lifetime,” he starts writing on the wall chalkboard. “I see no reason not to believe you. After all, my wife of this universe would probably not be saying these things,”
“We’re married?”
“Of course. Now tell me, what else is different in your universe?”
-
You’ve tried to find him everywhere—going all the secret places the two of you would go in the past, and asking people if they’ve seen him both topside and bottom. There’s no signs, not even a clue. He doesn’t want to be found.
You make your way back to Jayce’s lab, surprised to see Heimerdinger and a young man you don’t recognize with him. They fill you in on their concern about wild runes showing up around the city, and their plan to check on the hexgates. You’re desperate for anything to get your mind off Viktor, so you go along with them.
You’ve never been to the source of the hexgates before, and it’s even more grand than you imagined. One thing could go wrong and the entire thing would explode, but it’s precisely the potential of destruction that makes it all the more fascinating.
That is, until it becomes entirely unpredictable.
Your surroundings change at the blink of an eye—warped visuals and sounds you can’t make out. You scream for the others, but no one can hear.
-
You do your best to describe all the important events and details of your timeline, while Viktor takes notes on the chalkboard and compares what you say to his timeline. He seems particularly interested in his inventions in your timeline, and his partnership with Jayce—who’s no longer alive in his timeline.
“He died in an explosion here at the academy several years ago, it was a tragic accident that also killed a young girl from the undercity. He was a friend and a brilliant mind,” he pauses. “We...actually named our son after him.”
Your eyes widen, overwhelmed by this possibility of what could’ve been, “We have a son?”
“We do. And he’s perfect,” Viktor smiles softly. “You really are from a different time, aren’t you?”
You nod, trying to hold back tears. Why does this reality’s version of you get to be happy? Why does this Viktor get to dodge corruption and the hands of hubris?
Viktor gazes once again on the chalkboard notes, looking for patterns and causes for the differences in your timelines. Would he have reached the same fate if Jayce was still alive? What caused the Undercity to heal and thrive in his timeline but not in yours? Was this hextech you speak of really so destructive?
You are the same person he fell in love with, there’s no doubt in his mind about that, but you’ve been significantly more hurt than the Y/N he knows.
He steps close to you again, wiping the tears from your face and pulling you into him, “I’m so sorry your version of me has taken a different path.”
You sob into his chest, gripping his clothes. He runs his fingers through your hair and rubs your back, soothing you as if you’re his own.
But you’re not his. This isn’t your life.
You pull away, taking a deep breath, “As much as I want to stay here, I can’t keep taking over the consciousness of the me in this world. I need to find the others,”
“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to get back,” he says. “You say you got here through hextech, and that was never invented here.”
“We’ll find a way,” you run to the window, looking out to get a gauge of where you are. Heimerdinger might have landed somewhere here in the Academy too, and Ekko probably went back to the Undercity. But Jayce—if he’s dead in this universe—where would he be?
“Before you go,” Viktor places a hand on your shoulder. “Would you like to meet our son?”
Anxiety washes over you, your body going numb from the prospect. Would it only hurt you more to see a life that you could’ve created?
“Don’t you have more classes to teach, professor?” you smile, trying to turn your nervousness into something lighthearted.
“I’ll cancel for today. It’s about the time you usually pick him up from school anyway,”
He grabs his cane with one hand and takes your hand with the other, posting a quick note on his door as you leave.
-
You sit on a bench outside the elementary school, your heart pounding. This child is going to run out that building any minute, eager to see the mother he’s always known.
But you’re not her. You didn’t carry him, birth him, or raise him. You don’t have the same memories and experiences.
But you must pretend that you do.
You know which one he is immediately. He’s a perfect combination of yours and Viktor’s features, just like you’d imagined. His smile is contagious, and he wastes no time jumping into your arms.
“Look what I made at school today, Mommy!” he puts a crafty contraption in front of your face, a colorful collection of sticks and paper glued together.
“That’s so creative, honey, I love it,” but your attention is solely focused on him, his sweet face glowing with pride and joy.
“Quite the little inventor, aren’t you?” Viktor applauds him. “What else did you learn today?”
“We did reading and spelling. I can spell family now. F-A-M-I-L-E!”
“Close, sweetheart. There’s a ‘Y’ at the end,” you laugh,
“Are you sure about that?” he says, wincing his adorable face in thought. “Whatever. I learned how to spell brother and sister too, but I don’t have any of those. How do I get one of those?”
Viktor chuckles, “I’ll talk about it with your Mommy, how about that?”
“Okay!” he jumps up and starts walking home with the two of you.
-
What if I stayed? You wonder.
You’re playing with your son on the living room floor, with toys mostly made by Viktor himself. The house is small but cozy, a home you wish was really yours. What if you just stay in this dream reality forever?
What if you never find the others? What if there really is no way to get back?
But no, that wouldn’t be fair to the you of this reality. She’s the one who has this life, not you. Besides, Viktor and his son deserve their wife and mother back.
You hear a knock on the door, and Viktor goes to open it.
“Oh, Viktor, it is so good to see you.”
Your head swivels instantly towards the yordle in the entryway, “Heimerdinger! You found me!” you join Viktor at the door, “Where’s Ekko and Jayce?”
“I have not found Jayce as of yet, but I did find Ekko and sent him back to his timeline about a week ago. We found some hextech fragments and were able to use them to jump through time and space.”
“So...I can get home too?”
“As soon as you’re ready. We built the machine in a young girl’s lab in the Undercity,” he looks between you, then Viktor, and finally your son. His attitude of urgency dissipates as he begins to understand. “But...I could not blame you if you want to stay longer.”
Your son Jayce comes running to join you, grabbing onto your leg, “Who’s this guy, Mommy?”
“This is Professor Heimerdinger, he used to work at the Academy,” you pat his head, “Your dad used to be his assistant.”
“I’m sure you already have a brilliant mind, my boy,” Heimerdinger says. “Your parents must be proud.”
Little Jayce giggles.
“Actually, I would very much like to see this new invention you’ve built, Professor,” Viktor speaks up. “I’m now quite intrigued by the prospect of other universes.”
“I have no rule against you observing, Viktor, but I’m sure you understand I must destroy it after we all get back. It is too dangerous to be left here unsupervised,” Heimerdinger’s tone becomes more serious. “I’m sure Y/N has told you of the destruction hextech caused in our universe, especially to you.”
“Of course, Professor. I understand.”
-
You’ve never seen the Undercity look this beautiful.
It seems that the other version of you comes here often, so many people wave to you and little Jayce automatically runs off with some kids his age to play.
You meet a blue-haired young lady named Powder, who helped Heimerdinger and Ekko in their experiments. She looks so familiar to you, but you can’t place where you’ve seen her in your reality.
Heimerdinger explains how it works, and both you and Viktor listen intently. With everything up and running, you could go back this instant.
The pull to go back is strong, like an obligation to return to your rightful place in the universe. But the pull to stay is equally strong, as you gaze into your husband’s beautiful amber eyes that you want to find solace in forever.
“It’s your choice, my love,” Viktor says, as if reading your mind.
“I know I need to go back…” you exhale, tears welling in your eyes once again. “But I don’t know what I’m going back to,”
“I don’t know either,” he caresses your face, “But I do know you are strong in every universe,”
“I’m not,” you shake your head, “Not without you.”
“Don’t say that,” his thumbs smooth across your cheeks.
You nod, turning towards the device.
“Could you…could you kiss me one last time?” you ask.
Viktor wastes no time honoring your request, crashing his lips to yours with lasting passion. He pulls away only as you back into the circle, leaving you with one last affectionate whisper:
“I’m so fortunate to have met another version of you, my love.”
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saioratral · 1 day ago
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so there's this professor... - 01 Fractured Equations masterlist
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“do you even know yourself, or are you just another child moulded by the world around us?”
your small eyes search for the voice, a distant echo floating in the cold air. you shuffle closer, yearning for the warmth of the fading memory, but the chilly air of britain’s streets sink into your bones. here, survival isn’t merely a skill; it’s a daily battle that leaves you feeling small and utterly alone like a speck of dust
“promise me you won’t fall into the mould”
you look up, your heart aching at the sight of her sad smile painted on like a fragile mask of a porcelain doll, cracking at the edges. behind it lies grief far too vast for a seven-year-old to fathom.
how could you ever comprehend the weight of her sorrow? 
your tiny hands reach out, desperate for comfort, but all you grasp is emptiness—the coldness of fingers that once cradled you close, now forever still. cold hands fall on your face as you stare in horror
no word slips from your lips, not even a fragile whisper, just a silent plea from your heart. another reminder that love can vanish, leaving only absence in your already empty void. you want to scream, to shake her from her slumber.
but instead, you sit there. hope became a cruel joke, and the warmth of her embrace is a ghost that taunts you. tears prick as you try your hardest to carve her smile into your memory. in that moment, you realise 
you’re not just searching for her; you’re searching for yourself in the ruins of her despair. 
“mother..?”
“hold on- let me say goodbye to my mother before we head off”
you snap back to the present, watching your best friend dash into his mother’s store. you see her happy smile as she leans down, allowing him to plant a small kiss on her cheek before he turns away. you’ve always waited for him before heading to class. it’s a cherished tradition: you walk to his house in the morning, and he walks you back after class
“flowers? my mom had extras,” alvin offers, pushing a small bouquet of neatly arranged lavender roses into your hands.
“you always give me the same kind,” you say, bringing it closer
“blame my mom for growing too many. come on! we’re going to be late!” he insists, pulling you along, not wanting to elaborate 
“i miss my mother whenever i see yours,” you mutter softly, the words slipping out before you can catch them
“i miss her too- even though i never met her. which is weird if you think about it,” alvin replies, glancing back at your sad expression
“i can’t remember her anymore”
you switch off your thoughts for a moment, letting him navigate through the bustling marketplace. you treasure these few minutes, allowing your imagination to roam. daydreaming is another beloved pastime, and alvin provides the perfect escape into your bubble of comfort.
with your bag slung over his shoulder, he takes your hand in his free hand, unwilling to lose you in the crowd.
“i heard we have a new maths professor,” alvin begins again, trying to lift the mood
“he’s supposed to be young and a genius,” he adds, looking at you for a reaction.
“maths professor? what about mrs aya?” you suddenly remember
“oh, her? thomas said she’s now in his astronomy class- lucky fella,” alvin groans
you laugh at his silliness. the only reason he liked mrs. aya was for the free snacks she gave out after class. her husband, a wealthy lord, often sent treats during her lessons, accompanied by a signature green note that wished her a great day ahead. 
“one day, i’m going to find out who her lover is so i can ask if he has a sister! i���ve never tasted such wonderful cookies,” alvin reminisces
“i guess you won’t have them anymore,” you pat his back as he sulks at the thought
and just like that, you both walk toward your university building. alvin greets everyone he sees on campus, a habit that leaves you questioning his motives
“no? i’m not friends with security, but everyone deserves a good smile!” he responds cheerily
“you’re not fully dressed without a smile.”
“did you just quote haz-”
“stop. robert and his gang.. again”
with that, alvin moves you behind him, muttering about “stupid rich boys” as they approach. you clutch the flowers closer, watching him roll his eyes dramatically. a sigh escapes his lips as he stands face-to-face with robert
“how do you always bump into us? it’s almost like you wait here,” alvin begins
“me? wait for some peasants? do you not know who i am? i am robert smith! the-”
“the second son of lord smith and the sole heir of the luxury leather manufacturers. we know. you’re a broken record at this point,” alvin interrupts, mimicking him.
“i see [last name] still comes here. have you not found a partner yet? you keep coming to ‘educate’ yourself, but what’s the point? no one would hire a low-class rat,” robert retorts, his friends snickering in the background.
“i told you to leave us alone, right? get lost” alvin insists, trying to shoo robert away, but he stands firm
“i could propose to spare your lowly life… i do need a new piece for my future collection,” robert continues to taunt
“ooh, how unfortunate! to me, [name] leroy sounds a lot better than [name] smith- which, by the way, sounds like a shoe polisher,” alvin shoots back as he walks away with you
“you don’t always have to defend me,” you mutter, glancing back at the fuming robert.
“grow a spine first stupid” alvin replies, looking at you with his usual smile.
with that, you both reach your first class. mathematics has its own muse, but you’ve never understood the supposed muse. while you’re not failing, you’re certainly not a star student either. you settle into your seats in the middle rows as alvin struggles to see the board from far
“glasses aren’t such a bad thing…” you comment as you pull out your notebook.
“true, but i don’t see why i should pay so much just to read the board,” alvin sighs, slouching back with his latest magazine.
“you’re going to pay attention to the board… with a magazine?” you question.
“shush, i don’t want to label you as a snitch,” he teases, flipping through the pages.
you let the conversation drop, not wanting to disturb his reading. your gaze drifts around the classroom, where a mix of new faces and familiar ones fills the room. it’s a new semester, and getting into the university was not easy, given the challenging entry requirements.
right on cue, your new professor walks in. his striking blonde hair catches your eye, making him stand out immediately. even his three-piece brown suit looked more expensive than your entire snack budget.
he stands before the board, chalk in hand, neatly writing his name with precision. even his handwriting exudes a sense of perfection. he appears rather young for a mathematics professor, surprising you further.
“i am william james moriarty,” he introduces himself as he turns to the students. “i’ll be teaching mathematics.”
"moriarty...?", alvin mumbles the name and shudders. you look at him strangely but he doesn't seem to care
“i hope you take this class seriously. i remember a quote by albert einstein,” william states.
“pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas.”
“what is he even saying?” alvin whispers, and you shrug in response
“now, some of you might be like mr. leroy here, confused as to why i brought this up,” william continues. “think of my words as motivation.”
“he knows my name??” alvin gasps, nearly shouting in your ear
“i am well aware of everyone’s name, mr. leroy. you’re not as quiet as you presume to be,” he replies, and the class erupts into laughter. 
you can’t help but join in as alvin buries his face in his arms, magazine forgotten on the floor. the rest of the class unfolds normally. your professor teaches, and the time slips away. class had ended before you even finished your notes. 
“should we get him a little gift?” you ask as you pack your bag
“a gift?? for him?? after he embarrassed me??” alvin exclaims, his bewildered expression making you laugh
“your hair is messy again silly”, you sighed 
a silence falls between you, and you reach out to push the bangs from his forehead. he flinches, feeling your hand before swatting it away to fix his hair himself muttering about how he could do it himself 
“okay, so what are you going to get him, your majesty?” alvin rolls his eyes
“a set of new chalk?” you suggest 
“chalk? why? the school provides him with a huge box!” he reasons.
“no, no! i mean the kind used by mathematicians- hagoromo chalk! isn’t it nice? i could even knit him a small napkin to clean the board later on!” you continued 
“i don’t see you putting this much effort into my gifts…”
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© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest
taglist (forgot to post- whoops):
@fishii28 @ayaswrld @eliasorchard @onna-musha-mari @dija200
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mvrkieboo · 4 hours ago
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Lord, just saw that ask on what if YN is bitter. And ykw? WHAT IF THEN THERES A LOT OF REGRETS LIKE COME ONNNNNN 😫 I really wanna good ending but damnnnnnnnn that scenario on YN being bitter? UGH LURVE THE ANGSTY 🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️
pt. 2 of this ask right here
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You've been missing your classes. For 6 days, exactly.
For the first three days, Prof. Suh nagged Xiaojun endlessly for an explanation for your absence, but at one point, all of your lecturers stopped bothering him about it. Xiaojun began to wonder if the lecturers could finally tell that he was simply not your friend anymore—until Prof. Suh suddenly held him back again today. As always, Yangyang and Aeri tagged along.
The lecturer pulled out a fruit basket, patting on it as he gave the three college students—for some reason—a sympathetic look, it even came across as apologetic too. Was the fruit basket an apology for something?
"Listen, I wanted to visit Y/N today, but some bullshit last minute meeting got scheduled—so can you guys pass this on to her for me? Tell her I'm sorry for the messages I sent too—I didn't know at the time. Thanks, guys."
The three looked among themselves, weirded out. Why would Prof. Suh buy you a fruit basket? When Aeri opened her mouth to ask for further explanation, that's when the professor's phone rang—and he took the call immediately.
When he saw that three students were still hanging around his desk stupidly, he pointed at the fruit basket then to the lecture hall's doors—telling them to get out.
Yangyang took the fruit basket and walked out the hall, wondering why the fuck would Prof. Suh bring a fruit basket for you?
There was a folded card stuck to the basket, and they were too curious to leave it alone. Flipping the note to read the contents, it was Prof. Suh's writing, but they realised that this fruit basket was on the behalf of all of the lecturers of the faculty.
May we see you again on brighter days, Y/N.
– On behalf of all the staff of NCU's Business & Management Faculty
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Ever since celebrating Jaehyun signing on to SM Entertainment as a singer together, Mark's friend group and your—well, your old friend group hung out a lot at the place where they held the party, which was at Soyeon's café in Sinchon. Geonwoo's mom liked having them come over too, so they often had a fun time together at the café.
"What's with the fancy fruit basket?" Mark got to beat Haechan to it, since everybody was curious about the fruit basket Yangyang was carrying.
"Well, we're actually hoping that you would know, Mark—has Jaehyun mentioned anything about Y/N recently? Did something happen to her?" Xiaojun smiled hesitantly at Mark, and Yangyang places
Mark leaned away from the table, confused as to why Xiaojun would ask that, especially since your name would sometimes be a taboo topic to approach. Yangyang pointed at the card and Mark opened it to read it, now eyebrows all furrowed.
"May we see you again on brighter days? That sounds pretty serious." Haechan read the writing out loud from over Mark's shoulder.
"Listen, this fruit basket is gonna go bad if we don't immediately send it to her, and the staff's money would go to waste that way. How about this—you pass on Y/N's new address to me, I'll drop it off, and then this whole thing can be settled instantly." Yangyang spoke with a jaded tone, leaning back into his seat.
"I don't know her exact address, but I do know what apartment she moved into." Mark offered, and Yangyang nodded gladly.
"Oh, Mark, that would in fact be better. I could just drop it off at the front desk and tell the person to pass it on to her."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
In the end, Mark offered to accompany Yangyang for the drop off, mainly because everyone could see Yangyang was ticked off that he had to do this, and if he ran into you, Mark being there was to mediate the situation.
One look at the apartment complex and they realised how much of a downgrade it is from your old place. Granted, anything else could be considered a downgrade compared to the luxury condo you used to live in, but your current apartment looked almost run down and shady.
Mark couldn't help but still feel a little bit bitter and envious that you were willing to move into this kind of place if it meant you could live with Junyoung. Did you really love him this much to endure living in a place like this? Mark was a broke college student too, but even he wouldn't settle to live in an apartment like this.
But, in your defense, it only looked run down because the apartment was old, dated, and looked like maintenance is done once a year only. It still had a lobby with a front desk at least, manned by a relatively old dude who looked well into his 60's.
"Excuse me, but could you please pass this on to one of your tenants? We don't know her exact unit, but it might be under the name Jeong Y/N or Lee Junyoung." Mark talked amicably, not wanting to piss off anyone in this apartment.
The older man behind the desk moved to take out a thick binded file on the shelves behind him. It was a long 3 minutes until the man finally got to the page he needed. He raised his eyebrows, looked at Mark and Yangyang, then looked at the page again.
"Kid, the unit you mentioned was a crime scene. The cleaners just arrived to wash away the blood and the mess. The tenant—Lee Junyoung—is already dead. A week ago, he stabbed his girlfriend before killing himself—but I heard the girl survived and is currently recuperating at Taeho Memorial Hospital. It's better if you brought this basket there instead."
Mark and Yangyang went blank and dead silent at the information, felt like the whole world froze for a moment, both of their bodies frozen still—then they took off without thanking the old man, bringing along the fruit basket with them into Yangyang's McLaren. On the way to the apartment's parking lot to reach Yangyang's car, Mark was already dialing Jaehyun's number.
Jaehyun was in the studio, nodding along to a beat he was really liking when his phone rang, flashing Mark's picture on his screen. Mark knew he'd be busy, and Mark always liked to text instead of calling anyway. Suddenly feeling dread and a weird sense of urgency take over him, he quickly excused himself out of the studio to take the call.
"Jae, did you know?" Mark sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him, and Jaehyun frowned at the sudden question.
"Know what?"
"Stop fucking around! If you knew, why wouldn't tell me about it? I mean—you know I still care for her and that I'm still not over her yet, so why the fu—"
"Mark! Bro, calm down. What are you talking about? You're speaking in riddles, man—I don't understand what you're trying to say." Jaehyun walked to the windows, looking down on the city as he heard Mark take deep breaths before speaking again.
That was when Mark realised Jaehyun didn't know. He messed with his hair as Yangyang began to drive the car a lot faster than what he was comfortable with. Did the dude even know the directions to Taeho Memorial Hospital?
"It's Y/N, Jae. Junyoung's dead, he killed himself—but before that, he attacked Y/N and—and she got stabbed. She's currently recovering at Taeho Memorial Hospital. Fuck, this is why her lecturer wanted us to give her a goddamn fruit basket."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
You wheeled yourself out of Dr. Kim Sejeong's office. She was a wonderful therapist, and you could tell there was progress in your mental health after you agreed to take up therapy to heal yourself—but it didn't change the fact you had felt pushed to do this the first time you entered her office.
You came to a halt when you saw two men rose from the waiting seats outside Dr. Kim's office. You felt your face going stiff, when you realized Kyungsoo and Taeyong had been waiting for you.
These were the two sneaky assholes who roped Junmyeon into their plan in convincing you to get therapy. You still remembered how hard you cried on Junmyeon's shoulder five days ago.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"So you found his body." You spoke out, sounding soulless.
Junmyeon nodded beside his old partner, Kyungsoo. Taeyong was busy getting coffee at West Wing's café. A kid ran past in front of your wheelchair, giggling as it chased a butterfly with her mother just right behind her. The hospital's garden was spacious, but there were still some tricky pebbles she should look out for.
"Yep. Yoonsu hadn't been lying—Junyoung was found at the abandoned plant nursery. They were just about to renovate it when we came with a search warrant—ah, the school's director was so annoying, kept bitching about how he didn't want it to leak to the media. People like them are the reason why I decided to become a cop." Junmyeon sighed deeply, loosening his necktie at the memory.
Kyungsoo smirked at the older man, making a snide comment on how the commissioner shouldn't be so crass in front of a civilian. Junmyeon slapped him at the back of the head—it wasn't like he wanted the position, but it was thrusted upon him. Turning it down would anger a lot of people, and that included his own grandfather who had given a lot of gifts to the old commissioner for Junmyeon to be selected as his successor.
You stayed stone faced as the two bickered, and when they realised you were staying quiet, Jumyeon looked at you then shared a look with Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo had told him over the phone you might possibly be suffering from a...kind of depression of some sorts after everything Yoonsu made you go through.
You needed someone to push you into the path of proper recovery.
Both men saw Taeyong walking out of the West Wing with a bag in hand, so Junmyeon nodded at Kyungsoo as he fished the inner pockets of his blazer, and Kyungsoo not so discreetly walked away, signalling Taeyong to turn on his heel too.
Junmyeon reached for your hand, forcing your closed fist to open and placed something on your palm. When you pulled your hand away, you saw it was Junyoung's nametag pin. You felt your heart skip a beat as you looked at it, buried memories unearthing themselves inside your mind.
"...you know, I couldn't stand Junyoung the first time I met him. He was more crass than me, arrogant, prideful—and most of all, he was so goddamn selfish. I hated that guy, if I have to be honest with you, Y/N." Junmyeon hunched over, placing his elbows on his knees.
He stared right ahead, watching an older brother carrying his younger brother on his back, probably boasting about how strong he was to be able to carry his little brother. Junmyeon let out a pained smile at the sight.
"But after he met you, that selfishness started to chip away. He was still arrogant and foul-mouthed—and if he was alive, I've no doubt he would still be that way—but he couldn't afford to be so selfish anymore when it came to you."
You felt your eyes water as you closed your fingers around the nametag, then you felt Junmyeon's hands cover yours, as if he was also trying to keep that nametag safe from the world like you were.
"Kyungsoo told me. About all the things you said Yoonsu said to you before he killed himself, how your own friend dismissed you when you asked to speak with your brother one last time—Y/N, you have to know that all those things he said to you will never be true, you're not selfish. You deserve to live a life beyond Yoonsu, Y/N. You deserve to live a life beyond Junyoung too. He didn't die because of you, he died because of Yoonsu's selfishness—not yours." Junmyeon spoke softly, watching you cry without making a sound.
"I know you resent your friends for leaving you, and I know you also feel like blaming yourself for it because you were the one that pushed them away first, but you can't keep wallowing in your pain all by yourself, Y/N. If they had hurt you so badly, they should apologise to you—but how could they realise what they did wrong and apologize if you're not letting them know?" Junmyeon started to wipe away your tears, even as you started to shake your head.
"But I can't seem to let it go. I don't know if I could forgive them even if they apologize to me. I don't think I'm strong enough to do it." You sobbed out, feeling so ashamed of yourself.
Junmyeon tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear before he placed a hand on the back of your head. This was the same head that his late step cousin loved so much, the same head that Junyoung sacrificed his selfishness for.
"Then get help. Get therapy, receive some counseling. Me and Kyungsoo are scared that if you continue to be like this, you might..." He trailed off, and he didn't have to finish it for you to understand what he was trying to say.
"Please? For Junyoung, at least? He loved you so much, kid. He deserves to see you live a life beyond all this pain, all this suffering...and you owe it to yourself too. Living in misery would just let Yoonsu win in the end. Don't let that asshole win, Y/N."
He saw how your shoulders slumped. You relented, and you started to nod. His hand on the back of your head stretched around your shoulders, letting you cry on his. Finally, Junmyeon felt like his debt with Junyoung was now paid tenfold. At last he got to find where Junyoung was after all these years, and the girl Junyoung loved so much was finally saved from Yoonsu's hold on her.
At last.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Detectives, if my memory serves me well, you belong to Gangnam's Police Force, not Seoul's." You grumbled, not having the strength to fight off Taeyong who was pushing your wheelchair for you.
"And that makes it illegal for us to visit you?" Kyungsoo scoffed from beside you, making you roll his eyes.
You began to tap your foot on the footpad. Kyungsoo caught it, and smirked when he realised he was annoying you. Great, he thought, it's payback for all the times you greatly annoyed him three years ago. It's even more fun when you can't find it in you to whip out snarky comebacks to use against him
"How was therapy? Can me and Taeyong finally go inform your family now? Or are you gonna stall our work for another week?" Kyungsoo side eyed you, and you whipped your head to look at him.
Taeyong cracked a smile, finding it both humorous and heartwarming to see you both bickering. You had been so despondent during the first days, it had him and Kyungsoo relieved to see you having a personality again, even if you were constantly grumpy every time they came and visited you.
"I told you already, Detective Do, I'll tell you when I'm ready. Stop trying to push me to—"
"Y/N?" The familiar voice had you silent in a heartbeat.
Kyungsoo and Taeyong stopped in their tracks, and you included since you were getting wheeled by Taeyong. All three of you stayed frozen at the doorway, seeing so many people in your private room that weren't your doctor and her usual entourage of medical students and nurses (Junmyeon pulled some strings to get you a private room once you were transferred out of the ICU ward. Sometimes you forget Junmyeon also came from a rich family like Yangyang and Chenle).
Inside your room were your remaining family members (Yuno, your father), your foster family (Geonwoo, Woojin, Soyeon), Mark, and your classmates (Xiao, Yangs, Aeri). They felt their breaths stop when they saw you sitting limply on your wheelchair, deep purple bruises all over your face.
You dug your nails into your lap and began to stand up from your wheelchair, alarming Kyungsoo and Taeyong who knew that you were supposed to change your stitches today. Everyone else in the room began to go after you too, seeing how the two men with you were panicking to see you walking by yourself.
You felt like Kyungsoo and Taeyong had betrayed you. You had immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was the detectives that called them over, even when they knew you weren't ready to face them again.
"Kid—" Kyungsoo yelled out, placing a hand on your shoulder when you were already out in the hallway, but you pulled your shoulder away from him so violently it had him going pale, worried that you might tear open your stitches.
And when Taeyong glanced down to the spot where you had been stabbed, he staggered when he saw blood seeping through the shirt the hospital had given you to wear.
"Y/N, stop!" Kyungsoo yelled out again, rushing over to stand in front of you.
The commotion caused everyone in the hallway to stop and witness the scene. Some nurses began to crowd you however, as some of them were already familiar with you and your injury, not wanting you to run and escape when your stitches were obviously ripping. Taeyong held your shoulders from behind while Kyungsoo closed in, forcing you into a bear hug to limit your movements.
You raised your arms and started to pound on his chest, tears streaming down your face at the pain of your stitches ripping open and at the betrayal you felt. The bear hug forced you to your knees, with Kyungsoo whispering something into your ears to calm you down.
"It wasn't us, kid. We didn't inform them. We don't know how they got here, okay? We wouldn't betray you like that. We didn't call them over, Y/N." He spoke softly, and quickly swept you up to carry you in his arms and into your room to lie you down on your bed.
As soon as he lied you down, your doctor came in with her team, immediately pushing everyone out of the room and closing the door in front of them.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Who are you people? How do you know my sister?" Yuno asked stiffly, obviously still frazzled from the commotion you caused earlier.
Taeyong and Kyungsoo stared at the people before them. Just right as Kyungsoo was about to tell them who they were, a voice down the hallway rang through, gathering everyone's attention.
"Detectives!" Dr. Kim, your therapist, appeared.
She staggered back a little when she saw national darling and viral sensation Jeong Jaehyun in front of her. Sejeong tilted her head at him then looked at the detectives for a proper explanation. She just heard that you made a commotion earlier and tore open your stitches.
"I'm sorry, but who are these people?" Sejeong asked sincerely, seeing that all of them were waiting in front of your door.
"Dr. Kim, meet Jeong Y/N's friends and family." Taeyong spoke tiredly, pinching at his temple.
Sejeong balked.
"No! Y/N wasn't ready to see them again, detectives, so how could you! Didn't you promise that you'd only reach them out and inform them once they're ready?" She nearly shrieked, now upset on your behalf.
Kyungsoo and Taeyong looked at your friends and family—well, former friends and family. Both detectives understood that they shouldn't let personal bias cloud their judgement on people (it's literally their job to be that way), but they couldn't help it when all they could see at the moment was Y/N's sole source of pain, now that Yoonsu's dead.
"That's the problem—we didn't inform them. We were wheeling Y/N back to her room so we could spend some time with her and see how she's doing, but when we got to her room, they were already there inside it. It's why she freaked out and tore open her stitches." Taeyong explained thoroughly, looking straight into Yuno's eyes.
"You didn't answer our question earlier, asshole—who the fuck are you, and how do you know Y/N?" Yangyang spoke out this time, stepping out of the group and coming face to face with both of the detectives.
"Okay, time out! Detectives, please take these people to the canteen downstairs to give them the rundown of it. You can't keep crowding the hallway like this, and it's also within Y/N's best interest that you don't overwhelm her once the doctor's done with fixing up her stitches." Sejeong did a karate chop in the air between your friends and family and the detectives.
"Why should we follow your orders?" Mark asked genuinely, and Sejeong sighed at him as she showed them her badges.
"I'm a psychologist working for this hospital, and I also happen to be Y/N's therapist. Please, I beg of you for the sake of my patient, go to the canteen with the detectives. I can't breach patient confidentiality, but these detectives are obligated by the law to explain to Y/N's family on what happened to her."
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A/N : might post a pt. 3, but i also might not 🫨
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hauntinglesbian · 2 days ago
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I would pay good money to watch a movie where Kathryn plays a college professor who KNOWS how hot she is and likes to show off in class, and a senior student, who's only goal that year is not to pass but to fuck the teacher. Where do we have to collect signatures to make it happen?
you knew I have a teacher/prof thing (even flirted with some that were my friends) as im sure we all do
all we can do is pray to every god and goddess and to the universe
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and start manifesting HARD!!!!!!
And if there’s any witches out there, do your thing!!!! PLEASE
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tj-dragonblade · 3 days ago
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[Connect 4 FIC] Weekend Arts and Crafts
Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 1615 Tags: human AU, fluff, arts and crafts, crossover
Notes: For the @sandman-connect4 prompt Weave which is not the final space I needed but shh, I'll work on that next. This is in the Umbrella Boys universe, somewhere post-first-kiss but still early-ish in their relationship, and guest stars Gale from BG3. If you haven't read the rest of the Umbrella Boys, this can be read as stand-alone; all you need to know is that sharing an umbrella is their dating tradition, whether or not it's even raining.
Summary: Hob and Dream go on a date; Dream gets to meet one of Hob's friends
On AO3
"This class is taught by a colleague of yours?"
"Colleague and a friend, yeah." Hob scratches his chin, tilting the phone away so the sound of his nails through his stubble doesn't carry directly into the speaker. "He teaches astronomy here on campus, but he does some artsy classes at the community center. They're having an observer in to evaluate if the program is worth continued funding, and he'd like the class as full as possible to help with appearances." He spins his chair around, leaning back. "Thought it might make a nice date?"
"Will we be doing pottery? Painting?" Dream's voice comes through the phone, cautious but interested.
"Basket weaving, actually."
"Oh?" There's a little more interest, now, if Hob's not mistaken. Excellent. "I have never tried basket weaving, but I believe I might like to."
Silently, unseen, Hob pumps his fist. "Great! It's Saturday at one-thirty; we could meet up for lunch first if you like?"
"That sounds perfect." He can hear the little smile Dream is wearing. "Text me the details later; I know your next class begins shortly so I will not keep you."
"Thanks, dove. Talk to you later?"
"Of course."
Hob thumbs the 'end call' button, grinning happily. They've been properly dating for a little while now but every time he comes up with something new they can do that catches Dream's interest, it always makes him just a little giddy.
~
It's barely raining when they leave the cafe on Saturday; it's the sort of rain most Londoners wouldn't bother about an umbrella for, but they have a tradition to uphold. Dream tucks up close against Hob's side and Hob's umbrella covers them both as they stroll leisurely along the streets. Dream is uncertain where precisely the community center might be, and has no qualms in letting Hob lead.
"Your friend is a professor of astronomy, you said?"
"Gale? Yep. Been at UCL near as long as I have."
"How did he come to be teaching art and craft courses?"
Hob chuckles. "Ah, that's a question you'll have to ask him, and I'm sure he'll tell you if you do. Loves to share a good story, he does."
"A storyteller also?" Dream is hopeful that he will get on with this Gale; he would like to mesh well with Hob's friends.
"Oh yes. Especially if they're stories about himself."
Dream's optimism deflates a little. Something of it must transfer through his body language where he's pressed to Hob's side, because Hob laughs lightly. "Don't worry, he's not as obnoxious as I make him sound. A character, without a doubt, but a good bloke. I'm sure you'll like him and if you don't, we can always make an early escape."
"I trust your judgment." And he does; every date he's had with Hob so far has been a net positive and he is certain this will be the same.
They arrive at the community center precisely on time and Hob folds the umbrella away, shaking the dampness out of it first. There are several people there already, once they go inside and find the correct room; Dream is pleased to see that there are still open spaces available so he and Hob need not necessarily be squeezed in close to strangers.
"Greetings!" The man who speaks from the front of the room is remarkably attractive, longish hair half-gathered in a partial up-do, well-trimmed beard, warm smile and sparkling eyes, a dangling silver earring; he wears a deep purple button-down open well past his throat and tucked into tight jeans, a brown leather waistcoat unfastened over it. His shirtsleeves are rolled back to expose hairy forearms that are more toned than one might expect of an academic. His entire physique fills out his clothing in a way that suggests he does not spend any more time behind a desk than absolutely necessary, and Dream is already cataloguing every detail, suggestions of possible characters for future stories taking shape in his head.
The man's smile is broad and brilliant as he addresses the room. "I'm delighted to see so many new faces this afternoon! I? Am Professor Dekarios, of UCL—in my day job, at least. But this is not my day job, and you can call me Gale." He finishes his grandiose introduction with a flourish, face animated as he speaks. "Today, I shall be teaching all of you the wonderful and mysterious secrets of The Weave." He gestures broadly with his hands as he says it, enunciating such that the capitalization is unmistakable, and Dream wonders if perhaps his true passion was theatre before either astronomy or basketry.
He keeps wondering as Gale launches into explanation of the materials they'll be using and the basic components and terminology of this particular style of basket weaving. The man has a gift for speaking, animated in his instructional approach and extremely personable. He's dropped at least one cleverly-terrible pun so far and Dream can see, easily, why this man and Hob get on so well. He can imagine, as he follows instructions and sees a basket beginning to take shape beneath his hands, how charismatic Gale must be in the lecture hall with a captive audience.
They are halfway through the scheduled time, he and Hob chatting amiably over their growing baskets (Dream's is growing faster than Hob's), when Gale stops by in his rounds to see their progress.
"Hob, my friend! You made it!" His eyes turn to Dream, bright with interest. "And you have brought a companion!" He sweeps his gaze down Dream's body and back up, quick but unmistakable.
"'Course I made it, and yeah I thought it'd be a fun date." Hob puts the slightest emphasis on 'date' and Dream watches understanding flicker in Gale's face, flirtatious interest turning to ordinary charm in half a second. It's a fascinating shift. "Gale, this is Dream."
"Ahh, this is Dream!" A different sort of interest lights Gale's eyes, and his smile grows somehow warmer. "Hob has told me a great deal about you. It is a pleasure to meet you." Hob is fidgeting a little awkwardly but Gale pays him no heed, clasping Dream's offered hand and half-bowing over it in a courtly fashion. Dream is charmed despite himself.
"Likewise."
Gale smiles, broad and disarming. "And a pleasure to have you here today; thank you for coming! I can see you're already showing great talent with The Weave." He's released Dream's hand, turned his attention to the half-woven creation in front of Dream.
"It's very intuitive," Dream allows, picking up his in-progress basket to continue. "I am enjoying the process, and I believe I might like to do this again. Its almost meditative, and surely more practice will yield finer results."
"Ahh, indeed, for once you have tasted the magic of The Weave, you must return again and again in the attempt to master it."
Gale says this with the gravity and conviction of the wise old magician in a b-grade film, complete with a single wagging finger, and Dream feels his eyebrows lifting in bemusement. "I'm curious; why do you refer to basket weaving in that way?"
Gale chuckles, a little sheepishly. "I like to lend the craft an air of wonder and mysticism," he says, and Dream gets the sense that he's suddenly seeing a more straightforward glimpse of the man. "This is far from the most popular class on offer, after all. It's my hope that I can make the experience both fun and memorable for those who do sign up. Then, perhaps, they will recommend the class to others—or even return themselves."
"Well you're doing a marvelous job, in my opinion," Hob offers. "This is a lot of fun actually, and you've made it entertaining and easy to follow."
Gale glances between Hob's basket-in-progress and Dream's, which looks far closer to being a basket than Hob's does, and lifts an eyebrow with a smirk. "Easier for some of us than for others, perhaps."
"Hey now," Hob objects half-heartedly, while Dream ducks his head to hide his smile. "Some of us have talents that lie in different directions, is all."
"So long as you are enjoying the experience," Gale says with a grin, turning to move along to the next batch of students.
"Very much, yes," Hob replies, and Dream nods assent.
"I'm delighted to have you both here." Gale pats their table approvingly as he departs.
Dream ultimately finishes his basket before Hob, and spends the remainder of the class time assisting Hob with his—once Hob has admitted that the help would be appreciated, of course. When the allotted hours are up, they pack away their finished projects to survive the trip home and bid Gale farewell before heading out into drizzly late-afternoon London, Hob's umbrella keeping the worst of it off them both.
"It was lovely to meet your friend," Dream says, and means it.
Hob chuckles. "I'm glad."
"And to learn that you speak of me at length to your colleagues."
"I. Well." Hob shrugs a little awkwardly. "I do tend to be a bit chatty, and I've had a lot of fun on our dates so naturally you come up in conversation at work. I'm glad you don't mind."
"It's flattering, truly."
Hob shifts his grip on the umbrella. "I hope Gale wasn't too much?"
"Not at all." Dream snuggles closer against Hob's arm. "A character, as you said, but ultimately a charming one. In fact, I am definitely putting him in my next book."
Hob laughs, long and loud, and Dream smiles softly as they stroll on through the misty rain toward the bus stop that will see them home.
= Started: 11/10/24 Drafted: 11/18/24 Posted: 11/21/24
This is where I admit that I have never played BG3 or any DnD and all my knowledge is via friends and dashboard osmosis. But if you know even less than me and the joke didn't land: Gale is a wizard in his own canon and The Weave is the main magical force he manipulates in spell casting. This was the first thing that came to mind for the prompt and it insisted on being written. Hopefully it is at least worth a chuckle.
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kay9leo · 1 day ago
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WIP Tag Game
Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.
@myokk tagged me and seeing how I needed something to get me back into the writing world again after a hiatus, this seems like a good way to get back in 🤗
So while not a "true" WIP, it's an idea stuck in my head since in my original WIP (written and hidden in my computer files) of where Iñaki Martinez Cariaga (or MC) is used, I have Hogwarts Legacy take place in the late 2000s...but what if Iñaki's Ancient magic takes her back in time...to the year 1890? As a play on the name of a title of a famous Mark Twain book, I present a small snidget of an idea that's been flying circles in my head:
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A New York Yankee in Hogwarts' Courtyard, 1890
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Iñaki walked around Hogsmeade, trying to reconcile the past with the future wizarding village that she remembered before she was sent back in time over more than a hundred years ago.
Hogsmeade was still Hogsmeade with its quint shops, townhouses and stone ruins nearby its town entrance, but it was also different from how she remembered back in 2008.
For one, the MCC or the Muggleborn Cultural Center hasn't been made yet, a place where all muggleborns would go to get a taste of home away from home (even though it wasn't truly a taste of home for her, with her home being an ocean away in New York). Two, the Shrieking Shack building didn't exist yet and three, there was no Tim Howards Coffee Shops yet - the only American magical coffee shop chain that somehow made it across the pond.
If you think about it, I might be able to run into Tim Howards when he's still a baby in this time period. He doesn't become a famous Quidditch player until the 1920s. Iñaki frowned at that thought.
"So, what do you think? Is Hogsmeade up to your standing Yank?"
Iñaki blinked out of her thoughts and looked over to her right to see a brown haired boy, Sebastian Sallow giving her a confident smile despite the nervous look in his eyes. He was currently giving her the grand tour of the place. To her surprise, Sebastian wasn't the cocky boy he made himself out to be before the duel that he lost in DADA class. The entire walk, Sebastian was friendly, jolly and curious about her homelife back in America, never once meeting a Yankee. Soon that became her nickname when he saw how it made her smile as he asked questions to get to know about her a bit more.
It was hard to be tight lipped about her homeland. Especially as far as he and everyone but Professor Fig knew, she was just another girl from their era and out of her element because she was the new kid in a new country and NOT being stuck in the wrong time period. She had to be careful about what she said, to reveal little about the future as possible like Professor Fig and all those time traveling books and movies taught her before.
While she ran into some more recognizable names - Weasleys were a dime a dozens, Prewett was an extinct family name in her time period with their remaining line married into one of the Weasleys' family branches and Gaunt was the original family name of the founder of Ilvermorny- there were a few she didn't recognized.
Onai was one. So was Sweeting. And then there was Sallow.
Sebastian Sallow was a name that rang a small bell in her head, but she couldn't remember for what reason it was for as she smiled at its owner with a light smile as she pulled up a half lie.
"I think it's cute, like it's from a storybook. It reminds me of another wizarding village I visited in the past at home..." Or was it future? It didn't matter, it was in her past. Iñaki thought with a small painful smile as she looked over the smaller village in this era.
"You really miss home, don't you Iñaki?" Sebastian said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. Iñaki looked up to him with a tight smile, fighting back tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes.
"Who me?" Iñaki chuckled, waving her hand off playfully as if she could physically fight off the emotional pains that came every time she thought about the new country she found herself in due to her dad's new job, the time period that she didn't belong to or the possible reality she might be stuck here for good and might never see her parents, family, friends or even her neighbor's pet dog ever again.
Heck, she might be in the history books of another country and her loved ones would never know what happened to her.
And if she let one tear escape, the whole dam would break and she wasn't certain if she would survive the floods of her emotional pain since she woke up in 1890 after accidentally tampering with a magical place she thought nothing of. It wasn't like it was a time turner. Just a bunch of standing stones that reminded her of Stonehenge that stood in up in a forest nearby Feldcroft that called to her for some reason when she was flying around, trying to free up her mind from the thoughts of being homesick.
She was really far from home this time around.
"Yes you. You seem to keep your distance from everyone you know? We don't bite." Sebastian smiled at her. "Take it from someone that had to move before, you'll find yourself fitting in sooner than later. Natty practically befriend you -"
True...Iñaki thought.
" -Ominis seems relaxed and happy to be around you since you met him your first night-"
It probably helps that my first thought of his surname that I told him was that one of his ancestors founded Ilvermorny and rejected her family's prejudicial pureblood beliefs and not of his infamous descendent that is Tim Riddler...or what ever his name was.
" -in the Slytherin Common Room-"
I was a Gryffindor in my time period.
"-and I do need a dueling partner in Crossed Wands." Sebastian winked at her. "Yeah." Her voice croaked. That's what it seemed it was good at doing since she moved to London for her Dad's work. "I-" She cleared her throat with a smile. "-I DO like dueling."
Dueling made it easy to forget, to not remember that she was no longer home. That there was no DeLorean or ruby heels she can tap together three times to bring her back to her time period, to her world.
It wasn't until the Troll fight she had with Sebastian that she thought, maybe she didn't need a time traveling car or magical red heels to go home. Not when she felt that same magical force that brought her to this time period flow out of her when she defeated -no vanquished- the troll.
If Ancient Magic brought me back to the past, I'm going to find a way to use it to get back to my own time with no problem. Iñaki thought with a smug smile as she helped repair the town back, unaware of the only flaw in her plan as Sebastian Sallow gathered her for a quick drink at the Three Broomsticks on him.
And never once did she notice the awe in his eyes as he looked at her or the growing heart he wore on his sleeve for her the longer she remained stuck in the past. She would have noticed it if she looked back, but the only flaw in that was this:
Iñaki was too busy looking forward to finally go back home, back to the future where she belonged.
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No Pressure Tags: @theladyofshalott1989 @ps-cactus and whoever sees this and is interested in writing as well/needs a small push to return to the writing world 😁
Thank you @myokk for tagging me and helping me to slowly return to the writing world for a bit after the hiatus I took💖🥰💖
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anti-dazai-blog · 1 year ago
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wouldn’t it be funny if Fyodor had two living parents who thought he was just off at college but he was using his tuition money for terrorism instead
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aro-culture-is · 3 months ago
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aro culture is getting really annoyed with the relationships unit in your sociology class because the whole thing is just 100% amatonormativity.
:\
if think your teacher, professor, and/or TAs might be interested in discussing the concept, I have some idea of bringing up the topic?
I'd personally say something like, "Hi, During our section in sociology around relationships, I couldn't help but think it would be interesting to discuss how a sociological theory called "amatonormativity" might relate to these lessons. I gathered a few sources from the professor who coined it, a thesis written on it, and a law review written about the connection between it and laws in the USA. There's some connections between its use in feminist thought and in queer theories, and I'd love to know your thoughts about it. I personally was thinking of when [specific statement] was said, and how I would apply this theory. I hope it's as interesting to you as it is to me."
Coiner's current webpage: https://elizabethbrake.com/amatonormativity/
Thesis: https://vc.bridgew.edu/honors_proj/330/ (click download in upper right hand corner for the PDF, depending on the individual it may be worth downloading and sending that rather than a link)
Law Review: https://uclawreview.org/2022/06/09/amatonormativity-in-the-law-an-introduction/
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xxplastic-cubexx · 5 days ago
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good news I got that bullet out I can speak me truth
Charles wears a collar to let Erik choke him with it, maybe some binds BUT ALSO maybe some consensual mind control, happily making Erik tie him up in a sense then letting him get a full look like “well, wonder what you could do while I’m like this :)” who knows. anyways gonna get my bullet wound sewn up since Erik just yanked it out of me
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good morning beautiful inbox of mine i see youre trying to kill me before 10AM
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laesas · 10 months ago
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I don't know how much more explicit the message of "THIS IS GROOMING" could have been without Be On Cloud superimposing it in all-caps text over every one of Non and his teacher's scenes. People interpreting that as "cheating" are cracked in the fucking head.
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