#AND we had to read textbooks and answer answers in a one page essay

[freakazoidwerebeast]

shitting and crying and throwing up rn because my prof has an all or nothing policy on homework. what if i [dont say that] just ate cheese instead or smth.

[leilakisakabiri]

request: Hi can you do where the reader is wearing Gavis hoodie and she accidentally stains it and starts freaking out. Thank uuu and i love ur writing

I Got You (Gavi)

Summary: You need Gavi to come help you after you get yourself into a bad situation.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for your support! Requests are open. Currently working on The Promises We Keep Pt 2. Also, guys if I haven't done your request yet, don't worry, it probably means it's gonna be a long one.

Word Count: 3.1k+

Masterlist

It was a Saturday night in Barcelona, and you were holed up in your room, feet tucked under you, a knitted blanket over your shoulders as you read over the words in front of you for the hundredth time.

While the city was alight with people getting drinks, dancing, and laughing, you silenced your phone, closed your blinds, and put your headphones on to quiet any outside noises. 

You had decided to stay in this weekend, caught up in writing an essay for your criminal law class that was worth 50% of your grade. Safe to say you did not take it lightly. You had been hunched over your computer for the last nine hours, brain numb and fingers aching as you had tried to come up with a thesis and strong argument for your essay. You had blocked out this weekend to finish the essay, letting everyone know ahead of time not to contact you unless it was an emergency, including Gavi. 

Gavi had been gone for the last couple of days, traveling around Europe for the last leg of La Liga, and he had been adamant about spending as much time with you as he could once he got back - before his summer schedule kicked off. However, that hope was quickly cut short when you informed him you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him at all this weekend due to you being stuck finishing your essay. 

Although he had tried to convince you to change your mind, bribing you with the idea of endless cuddles and then promising to be as silent as possible while you wrote when his first idea didn’t work, you relented, knowing that having him around would be a major distraction, one that you couldn’t afford. 

“I’m sorry Pablo I don’t think I can this weekend. What about Monday?” You asked hopefully. 

He sighed over the phone, his face pulling into a frown, “I can’t. We’re leaving Monday morning for France.”

You bit on your lip, feeling bad, “I’m sorry I just really need to focus this weekend.” 

He nodded, “I get it. It just sucks. I wanted to see you at least once before I’m gone again. But it’s fine – I’ll survive.” He replied dramatically. 

You grinned, “Well I’ll miss you Pablito.” 

“I already miss you.” 

The smile on your face only grew as your heart warmed at his words, “I’ll text you if anything changes. Have a great game, I’ll be watching.” 

He gave you a wink, “Damn gotta show off now that my girls watching.” 

You giggled at him, “Bye Pablo.” 

He mocked your tone playfully, “Bye Y/n.” 

That was last week, and now you were nose deep in your essay, textbooks scattered around you as you looked for possible quotes to strengthen your thesis. You had been so busy scanning the words on the page that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing non-stop next to you. 

Once you saw the glow of your phone screen curiosity got the better of you and you flipped it around seeing you had eight missed calls from your best friend. 

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, it was almost two in the morning, she would for sure be at a club right now, happily dancing the night away with your friends, so why was she consistently calling you? 

The phone buzzed once again and this time you were quick to answer. 

“Hello, Gia, what’s going on?” 

Her voice was slurred on the other end, but you could sense the panic regardless, “Y/n? I don’t know where I am, I was with the others but then I went to the bathroom, and I then couldn’t find anyone anymore. And this guy won’t leave me alone-”

“Gia, where are you? I’ll come get you.” You cut off her rambling, already rushing to put on your shoes, essay long forgotten. 

She hiccupped, “I’m at Macarena. I’m sorry no one else answered.” 

“No, no problem at all. I’m coming right now, Gia. Don’t move. I’m glad you called.” You comforted her. 

The club was only a twenty-minute walk from your house, and seeing as you didn’t have a car or the time to wait for public transport, it was your best option. 

You cursed yourself for not answering sooner as you rushed to get your keys, grabbing a random hoodie on the way out. 

Although summer was beginning to creep into Barcelona, the nights were still chilly with cold winds rushing through the area. 

You sped through the streets, walking with purpose as you finally reached the club. You were severely underdressed for the club wearing a random hoodie and yoga pants. You saw the line for the club was still extremely long, wrapping around the corner and you knew you had no time to waste. 

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, you were never one to break any rules or ask for any special favors, but now seemed like a good time to start. 

You walked up to the club bouncer, ignoring the nasty look the guy at the front of the queue was sending you, “Excuse me. I need to get in right away, my friend is inside alone, and I need to help her.” 

You heard the guy next to you scoff. 

The bouncer looked at you unimpressed. “Sorry sweetheart. You want to get to her, you have to wait in line.” 

You relented, “Sir please, just look at my outfit,” you said gesturing to yourself, “clearly, I’m not here to party, I just need to get my friend and leave. You can even come with me!” 

He gave you an apprehensive look, taking in your appearance, “I can’t leave my post.” 

You groaned, “Fine, then can someone else escort me? I can literally call her right now. She’s not in the right head space.” 

He squinted his eyes at you, “You look familiar.” 

It finally clicked. This is where you had gone with Gavi and his team, celebrating after they had won a final a few weeks ago. They had treated you like royalty, blocking off a whole section just for you, the club owner even making an appearance to congratulate the team.

You didn’t like to use the fact that you were dating a well-known athlete as a way to get special privileges but if it meant helping your friend then you would do it. 

“Yeah, I was in VIP a few weeks ago. I know the owner, so please let me in.”

“What’s his name?” 

You racked your brain trying to think of that night, “Santiago. It was Santiago!” You replied, finally remembering. 

The bouncer gave you a once over before he finally nodded begrudgingly, “Fine – but be quick.” 

You heard the other people in line begin to argue but you quickly thanked the bouncer, rushing inside, not wanting to wait long enough for him to change his mind. 

God bless Gavi.

The place was packed, bodies pressed together so closely that you had to squeeze in between heavily making out couples and groups of friends to make your way to the middle. The strobe lights were going crazy, changing every few seconds to the beat of the music. There was a DJ booth twenty feet above the crowd playing EDM Spanish music and the crowd was going insane, chanting along. 

You hit your head on your forehead as you realized you forgot to ask her where she was. 

You pulled out your phone, letting out a breath of relief when she answered, “I’m here Gia. Where are you?” 

“I’m at- I said no, stop, I’m at the bar.” She huffed. You felt your anxiety rise, who was she talking to? 

“Ok, I’m coming.” 

You pushed through the throngs of people, finally spotting the bar, seeing her leaning against the counter, hands flying as she argued with someone. 

You walked towards them hearing the tail end of their conversation, a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Gia!” You yelled, coming to stand next to her. 

She gave you a relieved look, falling into you, the effort of standing up being too much. 

You caught her, hugging her back. 

“Oh wow – two for one. I got a buddy that would love you.” 

You steadied Gia looking up to see the guy she was talking with giving you a smirk. 

You held his gaze, annoyed, “No thanks. We’re leaving now.” 

You went to turn but he caught your wrist pulling you back, the drink in his hand sloshing,

“Woah, don’t go yet, the fun’s just getting started. Look my buddies are in VIP we can hook you up.” 

You yanked your hand away, giving him a disgusted look, “First don’t touch me. Second, we’re leaving.” 

“You’re not leaving.” He persisted. 

You raised an eyebrow, “Fucking watch me.” 

He reached for you again, but you were prepared, grabbing his hand, and flinging it off you, as you weaved into the crowd, ignoring his shouts. 

You let out a breath as you stepped outside of the club, grateful for the cold air after sweating through your hoodie in the packed club. 

You adjusted your hold on Gia, holding her waist as you started the trek back to your apartment. 

She stumbled over her steps as you walked, giggling, “Oh my god Y/n your bleeding!” 

You gave her a confused look, dragging her, “What?” 

She giggled again, reaching for your hoodie, “It’s coming from your stomach, look it’s red!” She pointed at your shirt. 

You looked down and you stopped in your tracks, breath hitching as you began to panic, “Oh shit Gia I’m wearing Gavi’s hoodie!” 

She stopped as well, letting go of you as she plopped onto the ground, staring up at you,

“So?” 

“So? He’s going to be so mad at me. That dick spilled his drink on me. This is a white hoodie – who knows if it will come out?” You stressed.

“It’s-" she hiccupped, “fine.” 

You shook your head, “No It’s not it’s his favorite hoodie, I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. Fuck, I have to clean as soon as we get home.” 

You started walking before you realized she wasn’t following you. 

“Gia?” 

You turned around to see her slumped against the sidewalk, eyes closed. 

You rushed to her side, shaking her, “Gia? Gia, are you okay?” 

She hummed, “I don’t feel so good.” 

“Can you walk? We’re almost halfway there.” You asked, helping her sit up so she was leaning against you. 

She groaned, “I’m going to throw up.” 

You looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. You had left the main strip of clubs and restaurants, and were now on a back road, walking in an area that was dimly lit and that you weren’t too familiar with. 

“I can call an Uber.” 

You reached into your pocket, cursing yourself as you realized you had forgotten your wallet in the rush to get to the club. 

“Shit, I don’t have my wallet. Do you have yours?” 

“Antonio.” She groaned, leaning her head against your shoulder. 

You let out a huff, contemplating what to do. You attempted to get her to stand up once again, desperate to get out of the area, but she couldn’t stand, and you weren’t strong enough to carry her the rest of the way. You chewed on your lip debating a solution, but you didn’t want to do it unless it was the absolute, last, last resort. 

You spent the next five minutes calling all your friends, but no one answered. You groaned, frustrated, knowing you had run out of options. 

You heard your friend beginning to doze off and you shook her, “Gia stay awake.” 

She moaned, “Y/n I really don’t feel good. I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

Your finger hovered over the contact, and you finally pressed it, feeling the guilt build inside. 

It rang seven times before going to voicemail. You called back. 

On the third ring, the line finally connected, 

“Y/n? Why are you calling me so late?” Gavi’s voice was thick with sleep, his words murmured. 

Hearing his voice sent a pang of relief through you, and suddenly you didn’t feel so alone,

“Gavi I’m sorry. I really need your help.” 

He was up in an instant, wide awake, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m stuck in the middle of the road with Gia. She got drunk and I went to get her but now I’m worried there’s something wrong. She can’t get up and we’re all alone. I don’t have any money. I called our friends, but no one answered, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You rushed out. 

You heard his breath accelerate on the other end of the line, “Ok don’t worry baby I’m coming. Send me your address, everything’s going to be okay. Just stay on the phone with me.” He reassured you. 

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “Thank you so much Gavi.”

You heard his car door open, “Anytime. If anything happens like this again you call me first, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You stayed on the phone with him, rubbing Gia’s shoulder to comfort her, readjusting her whenever she began to doze off. 

Finally, you saw a familiar car pull onto the street, and you waved your hands, trying to get him to see you. 

The car made a quick turn and then Gavi was rushing out, a worried look on his face, 

“Oh thank god you’re okay. I was so worried.” 

“I’m so sorry for waking you. Thank you for coming.” 

“Y/n stop apologizing.” He said, helping you carry Gia to the car. 

Upon feeling that she was being lifted, her eyes shot open, “Y/n what’s going on?”

She glanced over to her left seeing Gavi before she turned to look at you, it took two seconds for her eyes to widen and then she was whipping her head back, “Gavi? The hell y-you doing here?” 

You giggled at her abruptness, “I had to call for help.” 

She turned to you, snuggling into your shoulder affectionately, “You’re the best Y/n. She was a rockstar today.” She spoke, as you both pushed her into the car. 

Gavi raised his eyebrow at you as you both got in, “A rockstar eh?” 

You rolled your eyes, “She’s just spewing nonsense.” 

Gia groaned in the back, hands clumsily coming to slap your shoulder, “Ehh don’t lie Y/n. You should have seen the way she talked to those guys – even I was scared.” 

You saw Gavi’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, his posture stiffened as he looked over at you,

“Guys? What guys?” 

You opened your mouth to reply but Gia beat you to it. 

“This one guy, he kept trying to get me to come with him, but then Y/n was like no way we’re leaving, and then he started hitting on her, but then he tried to grab her, and she karate chopped his hand! He was so embarrassed!” 

You felt yourself blushing at her recollection of events, “I did not karate chop his hand!” 

“Yes, you did. It was like in midair when he was talking about his friend that liked you, and then I blinked, and it was gone!”

“Did he try anything?” Gavi’s voice was hard, as he looked at you.

You shook your head, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No don’t worry. We were fine.” 

You felt his body relax under your touch, and one of his hands came to grip your own, “You should have called me sooner. I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” 

You felt your heart flutter at his words, “Don’t worry I handled it. But thank you, next time I will.” 

Soon you were pulling up to your apartment and hauling Gia up your steps. 

“I really wish we had an elevator right now.” Gia groaned as she was being half pulled, half carried up the steps. 

You made eye contact with Gavi after hearing her statement, and you had to bite your cheek not to laugh out loud, 

“You and me both G.”

Finally, you reached your apartment, and all let out a sigh of relief as she fell onto your bed, passing out almost immediately. 

You cringed as you saw her head land centimeters away from the sharp edge of one of your textbooks. 

You reached over, clearing the space so she was able to sleep without the risk of a concussion. 

You looked up once the area was cleaned to see Gavi looking at you intently, a weird expression on his face almost like he was stuck in his thoughts. 

“What? Is everything okay?” You asked unsure, looking down at yourself. 

That’s when you realized. 

You were still wearing his hoodie, the one that had a massive red stain on it now thanks to the jackass at the club. 

You had completely forgotten about it. 

You quickly apologized, “Gavi I’m so sorry. Gia called and I was so worried so I grabbed the first thing I could find – and then the guy kept grabbing me and had this drink – anyways,” you let out a huff, “I’m really really sorry, I can buy you a new one.” 

Gavi stared at you in surprise, shocked by your outburst, “Y/n relax. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry I know how much you love this sweatshirt.” 

Gavi shook his head slightly smiling, you were just so adorable, and he physically couldn’t hold back the words he’d been dying to say any longer, “I love you more though, so it’s fine.” 

“Wha-what?” You stumbled over your words, clearly not expecting such a big revelation.

“I said I love you.” He said it with so much confidence, almost like he was reciting a fact, something that couldn’t be changed, and you melted a little at how sure he sounded. 

You didn’t know what to say, your brain still playing those three words on a loop. He loved you. He had said it first. 

The silence stretched on and now it was his turn to get nervous, “Is that okay?”

Your mouth was still open in shock, but you quickly recovered, 

“Yo-you love me?” Your voice cracked. 

“Well, yeah… why would I not?” He asked, eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you took a step closer to him, “I love you too, and I’m sorry-”

He cut you off with a sweet kiss, pulling you closer into him, as he slid his hands under the sweatshirt, fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. 

Your lips moved in sync and your hands went to play with his hair, gently tugging. 

You heard him let out a groan and you bit his bottom lip instinctively. 

He pulled away out of breath, a dazed look in his eyes, “Joder, you can ruin all my hoodies if this is how you apologize.” He muttered breathlessly. 

You rolled your eyes, smiling as he brought you back into him for another kiss. 

[woogly-boogly]

1, 4 + 5 boooooook

1: What's something you read recently and enjoyed?

The Langoliers by Stephen King! it's about a group of passengers who wake up mid-flight to discover the rest of the passengers and crew have completely vanished, and upon landing at an airport they discover it wasn't just the plane - there's no one on the ground either. something has gone very wrong with the world around them... and there's a worrying rumbling noise coming from the east, and it sounds like it's getting closer.

it's not his most popular book, probably partly due to the fucking garbage tv mini-series that was made shortly after it published, but this book was excellent! it filled me with dread from start to finish, and i actually felt like i had to read it faster so that the characters wouldn't run out of time haha.

absolutely loved it, strongly recommend!

4: What are your top 3 comfort reads?

you probably could have guessed this but the Skulduggery Pleasant books, specifically 4 and 5 in conjunction. they really do transition 4 to 5 so seamlessly man, it's a perfect pairing and i fucking LOVE the plot of 5.

i think Catch-22 deserves a spot because it was a big part of my reading during Covid 2020. it took a long time for me to *get* it, but when the penny finally dropped and i understood it, i suddenly understood this was a new favourite for me and devoured the rest in record time. man, i really wanna read it again, i'll do that after i move lol

also Enid Blyton's Faraway Tree books, they were really comforting when as an early teenager i was at a friend's place and he showed me 1000 Ways to Die and a few Final Destination scenes on YouTube. i know it's not much (especially because i'm a big fan of violence in media now) but at the time it was really confronting because i hadn't seen anything like it and it made me realise how fragile life can be. laugh at me all you want for being disturbed by that at 14 but i knew they'd help because i remembered they were the least violent books i'd ever read. and it worked, they kept my mind off it and i came out feeling a lot better.

so i guess the top 3 list is:

• Skulduggery Pleasant: Dark Days & Mortal Coil

• Catch-22

• The Faraway Tree books

5: What is your favourite non-fiction book?

man i don't even remember the last non-fiction book i read... if essay books count as non-fiction then the last one i read was The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck in 2016 or 17, and it was just ok. i think trying to read the sequel, Everything is Fucked, taught me that i don't give a shit about books of essays.

other than that i remember one of my favourite books as a kid was Why? Why? Why? which was a book full of fun facts about various topics from history to science and other stuff like that. it had heaps of illustrations and on one of the pages was a step-by-step graphic on how stars die, and when i was like 9 i swapped stages 3 and 4 with a pen because i liked the way 3 looked better and wanted that to be how it ended haha.

idk i don't really read non-fiction, it's never really appealed to me. i think those shitty textbooks we had in high school kinda soured me on it... but i know it'll be important to read nf to be a better writer so i'll get to it eventually lol

anyway them's the answers, here's the questions!

[dear--mars]

Academic rivals…? Pt 1

Synopsis: You hated Alhaitham. From his arrogance to his grades. Even looking at him made your stomach turn. But then why were you two embracing each other in the broom closet intertwining breaths together…?

Notes: Natlan/Fem reader, one-sided rivalry (??), emotionally constipated Alhaitham, collapsing, Alhaitham being kind of creepy.

1.2k+ words [not edited]

This all started when you moved to Sumeru with your family. You were originally from Natlan. Considering your homeland you tended to be a bit hot-headed however it’s not like you went out yelling and picking fights with random people in the street. 

You were soon enrolled in the Akademiya, the most prestigious institute in all of Teyvat. You passed the entrance exam with flying colors, landing yourself in second place. One point off from first place, who had answered every question correctly.

‘Second?’ You thought.

‘First is someone named Alhaitham, huh?’ You were soon snapped out of your thoughts as you heard voices talking behind you.

“Alhaitham got first again.”

“Of course he did. He’s always been at the top of his grade since elementary school.”

“Ugh! I hate him. He’s so arrogant and cold to everybody, but all the girls like him somehow! It’s not fair!” 

“You’re only mad because Lindsay confessed to him.”

“Don’t bring that up!” His voice got smaller as you left, uninterested in the conversation. You decided to go home seeing as your business was done. You opened your bag, pulling out one of the textbooks that you bought for this school year. 

Looking over the pages you fail to notice a man with gray hair, doing the same. You two collided, dropping both of your books at the same time. Your eyes widened as you looked up. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t look in front of me and I bumped into you.” You said frantically as you picked up both books. You handed his book back to him.

“It’s alright. We are both to blame. I also neglected to look at what was ahead of me.” Upon closer inspection, you saw his fluffy gray hair. He had blue eyes with a tint of red near his pupil. He was wearing the Akademiya’s student uniform and your eyes drifted to his name tag.

‘Alhaitham?’

“Are you Alhaitham by any chance?” You asked nervously.

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh! Then you’re the one who got first on the entrance exam, right? Congratulations. I’m-”

“[Name]. You manage to place second in the exam.” He cut you off.

��It’s just me or did he put extra emphasis on second…?’ You thought as you strained your smile.

“Yep. That’s me. Anyways I would like to congratulate you-”

“It was to be expected.” he cut you off again. You clenched your fists as you calm your breathing down.

‘Don’t cause a scene or mother’s going to kill you.’ You let out a bright smile. 

“Wow! I guess you think you’re really smart!”

“I don’t think-”

“Well it’s been nice talking to you Alhaitham but I have to go now. Bye.” You said cutting him off before walking away.

‘The nerve of that guy! Ugh!’

You were walking down the halls of the Akademiya. There were over 200 classes in the Akademiya. There was no way the Archons hated you that much, to put you in the same class as that asshole, right? Right? 

You froze as you opened the door to your class. There he sat, reading a physics book in the back of the classroom before the lesson started. 

‘Why do the Archons hate me?’ You questioned before going to the front of the class and sitting in the exact opposite corner from where Alhaitham was sitting. Not even two minutes later, the bell rang as the professor came in.

“Welcome student to literature 202. I feel obligated to tell you that an essay will be due next Wednesday, even though today is the first day of school.” Groans were heard throughout the classroom.

“Quiet! For today, we’ll review what you learned last year in middle school.” You frown as you zone out, not paying attention to the professor’s words. Unaware of the gray-haired boy who was staring at you. 

It’s been a year since you started school. You’ve been a straight-A student. All assignments, quizzes, tests, and exams, you’ve aced. However, no matter how hard you tried, it always seemed like Alhaitham was one step ahead of you.  Even if you got a 100% you’d only tie with him. 

September came quicker than it left. That meant another year with him. But you weren’t slacking off during the summer. You spent as much time as you could in the House of Daena. 

4 months passed by fast. It was already December. The time of year every student dreads, exam season. This is your chance. Your chance to finally beat him and take that top spot. You visited the House of Daena daily spending all day and even some nights studying for the upcoming exam. Even neglecting sleep, food, and water.

The pages of your notes started to blur. You quickly rub your eyes as you looked up at the clock. 

“It’s already 2? I could have sworn it was 11 like 10 minutes ago… I should probably get home…” You said shakily, packing your bags. You make your way to the elevator. Getting in you push the bottom floor and wait. Sleep comes to you faster than you expected as you slowly dozed off in the elevator.

Next thing you know you’re waking up in the Akademiya’s infirmary. 

You shot up. A white curtain surrounded the bed.

‘What…?’

“Oh, you’re awake!” A woman’s voice said pulling the curtain aside. 

”How are you feeling?”

“A bit hungry, I guess…?”

“That makes sense, the boy who brought you in here stated you haven’t been eating for the last couple of days. That’s very unhealthy especially if you’re planning on pulling all-nighters to study. I understand it’s exam season but you have to take care of your body!”

“I see. I’m sorry. I’ll try to eat on time- wait who?”

“It was a boy with gray hair He brought you here late at night and laid you down on the bed. Imagine my shock when I saw you lying there with a note on top of you.”

“Gray hair…? A note?”

“Yes. Would you like to see it?” You nodded before getting handed a note.

“I found her collapsed in the elevator. It seems she collapsed from malnourishment. Not to mention she must have been very tired, it seems she hasn’t been sleeping for a couple of days. Please take care of her and give her something to eat and drink.”

Your eyes widened. This was Alhaitham’s handwriting…

“Here you go.” She said handing me a water bottle and a granola bar.

“Eat this and go home, you’ve been asleep for more than 24 hours.”

“Over a day! I missed school!”

“No, you didn’t. You collapsed on Friday and slept all throughout Saturday. It’s 2:00 in the afternoon on a Sunday.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” You said grabbing the water bottle and a granola bar before leaving.

Finally it was the day of the exam. You woke up bright and early and were one of the first to enter the Akademiya. You smiled as you look over the exam paper. Everything on the exam paper was stuff that you studied. Maybe risking your health wasn’t that bad. You smiled as you completed the exam.

Your smile soon dropped at the exam results.

1. Alhaitham

2. [Name]

You smiled bitterly before you turn around walking away from the bulletin board. Unaware of the gray-haired boy who watched you walk away.

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5]

- Navigation -   - Prismarine -

[lia-land]

Tower of Dawn

3/5 stars

Spoilers for Tower of Dawn by Sarah J. Maas.

This book is one that I like to refer to as an 'amnesia book' because it's one that you don't like at all while you're reading it, but once you're done, you look back and think of it as an an okay story overall. That's why I'm giving this 3 stars, but really, it was 2/5 while I was reading it.

I'm going to start with how I feel about the ending because it just didn't sit write with me. I don't understand what the problem would have been if Chaol would have just stayed in a wheelchair. This is my biggest issue with this book: SJM created a ridiculous plot line at the end, just so Chaol could walk again. Was it really necessary to bind his life and leg strength to Nesryn? Was that really the better option compared to just letting him be disabled? There's like a million main characters in this series. What would be so wrong with one of them being in a wheelchair? It annoys me that the plot was stretched like this just to avoid that outcome.

A lot of this book was descriptions and the thoughts of the characters, rather than actual plot. It felt veryyyyy dragged out. I read this after the full series was complete, but I’d be annoyed if I’d read Empire of Storms and then had to wait two full years to get answers from Kingdom of Ash since this book takes place at the same time as the events of EoS.

SJM said this was originally intended to be a novella and I think she should have kept it that way. So many words and sentences were unnecessary. It felt like when you’ve said you all you need to in an essay, but still haven’t met the word count, so you ramble. It was frustrating to read. This could have been 400 pages at most. It took so long for any sort of plot to pick up and I don’t even know if it ever did get interesting for me. Bearable, maybe. It got okay around 75% but at that point, I had the audiobook on 1.7x speed because I just wanted it to be over with. I literally couldn’t get through more than a page before wanting to put the audiobook on. My mind would just drift elsewhere and I’d end up having to reread the page. I appreciate ‘setting the scene’ but the descriptions were too much. I don’t want to read an interior design textbook. I’ve seen design proposals with less detail.

I wanted to experience the series how the author intended, so I didn’t do the tandem read, but in hindsight, the tandem read would have made ToD go by quicker and I should have done that.

I kept confusing all the siblings at first. They just weren’t introduced as well as they could have been, so it felt skimmed over and drowned by the information of how the Khagan’s worked. Lots of information very fast. For a lot of Chaol and Nesryn’s interactions with them, I had to go back to the start to remember who they were.

If I look at this from a perspective of us seeing the aftermath of Chaol’s injury and him coming to terms with his disability, it’s an okay book, but I don’t care about Chaol or Nesryn and having to read this book after the cliffhanger and fast pacing of EoS is annoying. We’ve had 6 books of plot and then we have to get through this book of descriptions. Reading ToD felt like when I was younger and my parents would host dinners with relatives I didn’t know and I had to sit through the boring dinner before I could go back to my room and play Nintendogs.

I will say that I enjoyed the cultural aspects of this and the city itself is portrayed beautifully, but there is such a thing as too much description.

I really thought Nesryn and Chaol would stay together so the introduction of new love interests surprised me and I really like Yrene and Chaol together. Not a big fan of them as characters but it was probably the most interesting aspect of this book.

[snickerdoodlles]

buckle up butter cup, i have QUESTIONS: 1, 2, 3 (👀), 11, 12, 15, 17 (👀), 22, 24, 32, 38, 40

I'll take your essay in MLA format plz <3

ah shit, i forgot my citations 😭

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

my current default is Libre Franklin! i actually cycle through fonts a lot? i like the editing trick of changing your font to help catch errors and clunky writing, and sometimes i'll switch the font of my doc if i'm feeling particularly stuck while i'm writing. idk how many people know this, but you can change the default font/formatting/color of google docs, and i do it constantly 😂

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

I write by hand a lot actually! I went through 2.5 notebooks alone last year iirc. I always write in pen -- writing by hand helps me gets ideas out of my head faster, and part of that is that i can't undo/backspace what i write. i just gotta move on. and since i'll have to rewrite it anyways when i type it up, writing by hand really helps me get that first rough draft mess out. it also helps me discard the really crap ideas from that first draft -- sometimes the typed doc that it distills into is completely different than what's on paper, and we're all grateful for it.

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

WRITING IN FRIENDS DMS!!!! nothing gets my ideas flowing better than a friend to bounce them around with, and nothing helps me solidify and distill ideas like needing to explain them to someone. i am so bad about sending friends multiple screens worth of written scenes in their DMs (i am very fortunate to have friends who let me do this). this ritual is cursed because my preferred DM platform is tumblr, and i actually rarely remember to save these writings to something more permanent like a doc (pour one out for the many, many, MANY writings lost in DMs <3)

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

*stares at writing notebook* *stares at lost DM fics* kill your darlings

real answer lol: if there's something i really like, i can usually find a way to bring it back into a WIP. i'm really good at that sort of adaptive thinking, but part of why i'm good at that is because i am a ruthless darling killer. all of my editing is very much focused on how all the pieces of a story work in harmony to each other and if something doesn't fit within that, that's not the story for it. but sometimes the reason why a thing doesn't work in the story is because its in the wrong place and since I have no issue removing things that don't work, it's a lot easier to find a better place for it if you're not fixated on keeping it in a specific spot. and for any darling that never makes its way back to its home story, it goes into my mental compost heap to possibly seed into something new for a future story.

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

fool proof way to write in the shower, perfect recall when im trying to remember a story idea i laid out in DMs, the perfect cure to my adhd executive dysfunction.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

i'm an avid annotator but only for like...general knowledge? all of my textbooks, reference book, and journal articles/papers are littered with annotations and other marginalia (this is partially why i have so many colored ink ballpoint pens actually 😂). there was a hot minute where i tried to do this for general story/poetry books, but...ehh???? i never quite got into that because usually i just lose myself in the story and my external thoughts come out better in friend DMs or post tags ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

as for the others-- dog ear, no, i don't like the look of bent pages. plus i have a loooot of bookmarks i'm still not using because they're one of those Cheap Art Merch things lol. i absolutely read in the bath (if i take a bath, because ya girl gets BORED), but usually im grabbing one of my travel edition books jic something happens to it, anything electronic i hold over the edge so it won't fall in.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

will respond in a separate post so i can be extra annoying!! lmk if there's a specific WIP you're hoping to hear about XD

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

hrmmhmMm define organized?

zero organization to notebooks. those are for Throwing Up Ideas, organization would give me writer's block or anxiety. similar for anything that winds up in my phone notes -- even if i could organize them better, i probably wouldn't? they're kinda like a part 2 to the writing notebook for me jotting down ideas, esp stuff that i don't think will become proper stories. proper stories are on google drive because i don't have a better option. fics there are separated by fandom. series and multi-chapter fics get their own folders, individual stories stay out in the general folder. i also have a folder for posted/finished one-shots and a compost folder for discarded story ideas to help keep the clutter down

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

...how much does friend DM yelling count? i love plotting out stories in friend DMs, it's one of my favorite things to do, but i don't like. force myself to stick with anything either. i don't like rigorous story outlines, i prefer a more organic and flexible approach to writing stories. the best i can manage for a story outline is a general bullet list of story points i hope to hit. i like research a lot (wikipedia rabbit holes my beloved <3), but i don't usually worry about going too in-depth for it. it's really good fuel for story ideas and the brainstorming process, but like. i write fic. i care a lot about being sensitive and careful with other people's cultures and histories, but otherwise i don't fret the details and minute because my goal here is to share silly stories.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

this is really hard for me because i never read stories as individual lines. that said, i was thinking earlier of that poem (poem line?) "a hand has five fingers. five fingers and five thousand wants." because talk about kim-core, but i don't remember what its from and google isn't helping.

that said, hope y'all are ready for me to reblog this and this 583478 times when we finally hit proper hogswatch season <333

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

..........i had an answer in mind when i first saw this question, but i just forgot everything now that i'm here (am i even a writer?? surely not.)

maybe this will come back to me later.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

you get "the more loving one" by wh auden because i am ALWAYS thinking of this poem. #predictable

[[ writer asks ]]

[juneberrie]

you always have been

thinking thoughts. *ೃ༄ this is very self indulgent im not sorry <3 btw the formatting is terrible 😭 also this is 1.5k words im so proud of myself its literally the longest fic i've ever written

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

fandom: outerbanks

warnings: swearing, mentions of being drunk, reader kind of pushes jj away, insecure!reader, stressed out!reader, mentions of jj's trash dad, fear of abandonment, sort of a smau? science hw (yes thats a warning science hw sucks), love confession, hurt/comfort <3

jj's instagram is a mess. it alternates between pictures of random objects, pictures of himself, and pictures of our friends.

lately, all of his pictures have been pictures of him and the pogues at keggers and on the boat. without me.

the most recent one is a blurry shot of him and kie at the boneyard. his hair is dripping wet and kie is holding up a red solo cup, beer sloshing over the side. the caption reads, "my brst girl 😋 ilysn kier.carrera" its so misspelled its obvious hes drunk, even without looking at the picture.

—————

↳ comments

-> jb.wifirouter ong your so drunk. ↳ heywpope its "youre" not "your" 💀 and you're durnk too ↳ sarahcamer0n lmaooo durnk

-> kier.carrera lol ilyt jj 💀 ↳ kier.carrera wsit wring emoji ❤️

—————

i groan and shut my phone off. kie knows i like jj. she's heard me rant about him since eighth grade. its fine, though. i need to focus on school. i get up and silence my phone, putting it into a drawer at my desk before going back to the papers sprawled on my bed.

science isn't my best subject, but i need this extra credit to bring my grade up. and, no pressure at all, this stupid extra credit is due by monday, at its literally sunday night. at least its pretty easy. all i have to do is write an essay about newton's laws and how they function in the "real" world. i sigh and open my textbook to the page on the first law, inertia.

as im scribbling down the beginnings of the paragraph about f=ma, my pencil breaks. well, how fucking dandy. i get up and head to my desk to grab a sharpener, and i pass the mirror next to my door.

i cringe away, then force myself to look back. the girl staring back at me is... not kie. not sarah. she's wearing a big oversized t-shirt she stole from jj and some shorts. her nail polish is chipped and her hair is practically crying for escape from the worn scrunchie.

i tear my gaze away and grab the sharpener. the clock on my desk reads 11:11 pm. i remember something kie said about making wishes at 11:11, so i think, why not give it a try? i squeeze my eyes shut and hope my wish gets to whatever magical star angel being is listening.

after i finish my essay, its 12:23 am. i grab my phone from the drawer and see a flurry of texts and instagram notifications assaulting my lock screen.

i ignore the texts — six from kie and eight from jj — and click open instagram.

my homepage is filled with pictures of the pogues at the kegger they're at. i can't help the pettiness that surges up inside me and i click on jj's most recent story, a video of him, kie, pope, john b, and sarah screaming the lyrics to bohemian rhapsody around a campfire.

—————

you replied to their story

yourinstagram looks like you're having fun :)

—————

i feel slightly terrible, but whatever. every single kegger they've been to this past week, i haven't been invited.

a text notification comes down onto my screen. it's from kie. the preview reads "im soo sorru"

what the hell? i immediately click on the text and i almost start crying.

—————

kie kie ml ♡

bro so dnt be mad but like i accidentally told jj that u liked him

im sorry

answer me please idont want yu to be mad

i dd;t mean to i swaer

y/n?? are you mad??

y/n pleeaas answre

im soo sorru

bro wtf.

ik im sorry but we were playing truuth or dsre and plpe asked if i had acrush on anybody and i sadi no i didn't but ik you did and the n jj asked who and im sorry :)

:(*** SORRY

whatever. go enjoy your kegger.

—————

what the everloving fuck. i specifically told her not to tell anyone, especially jj, and she goes and tells everyone and their mother. i've gotten a flurry of texts from pope, john b, sarah, and other pogues i suppose are at the kegger, all asking me if it's true i like jj. and, speak of the devil, jj himself has been texting me nonstop for the past thirty minutes.

—————

golden retriever lookin' mf 😋

haha kie jus told me the funnist shut

wait is she for real

wait n/n yuo like me

like fr fr?

brp answer me pls

y/nnnnnn

are you asleepo r somethinh 💀

y/n if you dpn't answer rn rn im going ovet to yiur house

—————

shit. jj can't come over right now. i look like a mess, and now im fucking crying. my gaze drifts back over to the mirror; my eyes are red and puffy and tears are streaming down my face and dripping down onto my (jj's) shirt.

—————

golden retriever lookin' mf 😋

jj please dont come over just stay at the kegger and have fun

nooo y/n im already on my wsy so its fine

—————

shit shit shit.

i throw my phone across the room and scream into my bedsheets. the pogues already didn't like me anymore; they had been going out and having fun without for weeks now, and now kie tells jj i like him? my life is fucking falling apart.

a knock at my window wakes me up from whatever sad haze i was trapped in for the last twenty minutes. jj's peering in and he smiles when he meets my gaze. i shake my head and turn away from him.

no bother letting him in, he'll probably just tell me that he doesn't like me back and to never talk to him again.

another knock, persistent, sounds from the window. i sigh and turn back.

i open the window but leave the screen up, so jj can hear me but he can't get in. "go away, j."

"nooo. wait, why are you cryiinggg?" he asks, the booze slurring his words.

"nothing. no reason. go away, please, jj," i say, my voice cracking.

his face softens and he seems to sober up a bit. "n/n, please tell me what's wrong. i hate seeing you sad," he whispers. fuck. i can't, i can't with the fucking blue eyes and the soft looks and the whispers. i open the rest of the window, and jj climbs in.

i crawl under the covers of my bed and face away from jj. i feel the bed dip next to me and he lays a warm hand on my back. its so casual, so domestic, that i want to laugh.

"sunshine, what's wrong? is this about what kie said?" he asks, gently rubbing my back.

the dam breaks. tears start flowing out of my eyes and i started shaking.

"it is about what kie said. i like you, jj, i really like you. no, i- i love you! i love you so much. i've loved you since i first saw you in mrs. williams' science class in eight grade and you laughed when she said that iron was discovered by the hittites. and i know you'll never love me back because— well— look at me! im not like kie, im not like sarah. i'm just... me! and i've been trying to pretend like you guys going to keggers everyday without me isn't a big deal because, hey, i'm swamped with school, even though its fucking intercession. and i knew if i told you, you'd hate me and you'd never talk to me again," i sob into my pillow.

jj is silent for a few seconds, still rubbing my back.

"i love you too, sunshine. i've loved you for the entirety of the time i've known you. and, you're right. you're not kie or sarah, but you're you. that's what i love about you. you are unapologetically yourself. and i'm sorry for not inviting you to the keggers. i just, i knew you were swamped and i know you don't really like parties 'nd drinking and shit. and i just want you to know that im so proud of you, honey, and— jesus, y/n. you're the only one for me. you always have been. you're the person who's been there whenever luke did something shitty to me, you've helped me with my homework, and gosh, dare i say it, you've helped me be a better person."

he chuckles. i feel him press a kiss to the back of my neck and gently bring me towards him so i'm basically in his lap. he wraps his arms around me and lays his head in the crook of my neck. we stay together in a comfortable silence for a few moments.

i sniffle. "i'm sorry, j."

"you're not the one who should be apologizing, sunshine. i love you, so much. i'm sorry if i made you feel like i'd never talk to you again or like you weren't enough; you are enough. you always have been."

[linguisticdiscovery]

The Linguistics Starter Pack

Curious about linguistics but not sure where you can learn more? The Linguistics Starter Pack is for you! This is a curated list of my top recommendations for getting started in linguistics. Most of the items on this list are popular science books, aimed at a general audience, and written in a non-technical way. I’ve also included a few highly accessible introductory textbooks if you’re looking for something more structured instead.

Note: The links on this page are Amazon affiliate links, which means I get a small commission from any book you buy through these links (at no additional cost to you).

Language myths (Bauer & Trudgill, 1998)

If there’s one book on this list you should read to introduce yourself to linguistics, it’s this one. Consisting of short, bite-sized chapters each focused on a different myth, this book dispels some of the most common misconceptions about language and linguistics. The book is almost a quarter-century old, but remains one of the best places to start learning about linguistics.

The 5-minute linguist: Bite-sized essays on language and languages (3e) (Myrick & Wolfram, 2019)

A collection of tiny essays answering some of the most common questions about language and linguistics. This book is a more up-to-date take on Language myths (see above), except the style is more FAQ than myth-busting. This third edition is sponsored by the Linguistic Society of America because of the great impact that the first two editions had on educating the broader public about linguistics.

How languages work: An introduction to language and linguistics (2e) (Genetti, 2018)

Hands down the best introductory linguistics textbook on the market. Extremely easy to read, and covers a variety of topics not typically included in other introductory linguistics textbooks. It also includes a number of language profiles, illustrating the rich diversity of languages in the world. The chapters are written mostly by the linguistics faculty at the University of California, Santa Barbara, one of the top linguistics departments in the world. Proceeds from the book help fund fieldwork with endangered languages.

Through the language glass: Why the world looks different in other languages (Deutscher, 2010)

How does language influence the way we think and see the world? This book is a brilliant journey into the relationship between language and thought, covering everything from how color terms shape our perception of those colors to how grammatical gender shapes the way we categorize people and things in a surprisingly captivating writing style.

The language myth: Why language is not an instinct (Evans, 2014)

A long-overdue introduction to language and the mind for a general audience, this book explains how humans bring to bear a huge array of cognitive skills to make language possible, debunking the idea that language is an instinct and that we all possess a Universal Grammar. Written by the foremost scholar on cognitive linguistics, this book is perhaps one of the most important popular science books published this century. Think of this book like a non-technical introduction to cognitive linguistics.

When languages die: The extinction of the world’s languages and the erosion of human knowledge (Harrison, 2007)

This book showcases the incredible diversity of ways that Indigenous languages work, and highlights just how much of this diversity and indigenous knowledge is being lost as more and more languages stop being spoken. The book covers topics like Indigenous ways of telling time, spatial orientation, and number systems, while serving as a poignant introduction to linguistic diversity and language endangerment.

The unfolding of language: An evolutionary tour of mankind’s greatest invention (Deutscher, 2006)

An enthralling introduction to how languages change over time, and how languages develop their incredible grammatical complexity, evolving from rudimentary utterances like “man throw spear” to the beautifully intricate Turkish sehirlilestiremediklerimizdensiniz ‘you are one of those whom we couldn’t turn into a town dweller’. This is the second book on this list by author Guy Deutscher (see Through the language glass, above), and for good reason, because his writing style makes his books impossible to put down. Think of this book like a non-technical introduction to historical linguistics.

Empires of the word: A language history of the world (Ostler, 2011)

A history of the world told not by tracing the development of civilizations and empires, but by following the growth of the world’s major languages. Ostler weaves together a fascinating narrative that gives a fresh perspective on history. This book is a must-read for any history buff.

The dawn of language: Axes, lies, midwifery and how we came to talk (Johansson, 2021)

Weaves together the latest research in archaeology, anthropology, neurology, and linguistics to tell the story of how language evolved.

Language files: Materials for an introduction to language and linguistics (13e) (Ohio State University Department of Linguistics)

Want to get your hands dirty with some actual problem sets in linguistics? This is the book for you. Half textbook, half workbook, Language files is one of the most widely-adopted textbooks for introductory linguistics courses, packed with problem sets illustrating each concept in the book.

An introduction to the languages of the world (2e) (Lyovin, Kessler, & Leben, 2017)

If you’re interested in learning about specific languages and language families, this is the book for you. It introduces the field of linguistics by taking you on a tour of the world’s languages. This is one of the most unique textbooks in linguistics, and a lot of fun to read.

An introduction to linguistic typology (Velupillai, 2012)

A survey of the incredibly diverse ways that languages work. This is the most technical / advanced book on the list, but is the ultimate guide to the grammars of the world’s languages. This is a great reference to keep on hand when reading other books and articles about linguistics.

[beenbaanbuun]

Seventeen Performance Unit’s reaction to their S/O being a night owl

Wen Junhui

No matter how late Jun came back from schedules, you were always awake. He loved that he got to spend time with you more, but he couldn’t lie, it worried him a little. It got especially bad when he got home from the airport at 4am one morning and you were still sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a TV show.

“Hey,” He called over from the front door, dropping his bag before making his way over to you. When you turned to look at him he couldn’t help but frown; you looked so tired, the bags under your eyes more prominent than ever. “Why are you still up, angel?” 

“Too excited to sleep.”

“Why? Because I was coming home?” You nodded causing him to coo at you, leaning down and taking you into his arms. You were just too cute. “Come on, angel. Let’s get you to bed.”

Kwon Soonyoung

“Don’t you think you should do that tomorrow?” His voice made you jump. He’d been asleep 5 minutes ago. You’d been doing an essay for school and the light from the lamp must’ve woken him up. “Come to bed, Pumpkin. Can’t sleep without you.” 

“I know,” You sigh, still trying to read through the textbook in front of you. You felt a little bad about not being in bed with him, but you really had to get this done, “I just concentrate better at night.” He groaned at your answer, desperately wanting you next to him.

“What if we make a deal?” He offered. At this point, he’d do anything. He had a schedule tomorrow and he really needed his cuddle buddy. “If you come to bed in the next 10 minutes, I’ll get someone to help you finish it tomorrow.” It was tempting...

“Fine, just let me finish this page.”

Xu Minghao

He loves you so much, but you’re also his worst nightmare. He’s a light sleeper anyway, so having you get into bed with him hours after he himself goes to bed is never fun. At one point he was contemplating refusing to let you share a bed with him, but he decided that he couldn’t do that to you. You were too cute.

“I’m going to bed, Sunshine,” He kissed the top of your head, taking a second to watch what you were doing on your phone: watching tiktok’s. He knew you’d be up for hours doing that, just procrastinating until eventually, you realised it was late and you should probably sleep. “You’re coming with me.”

“What, why?” Your eyes shot up to meet his as he took your phone from your hand and turned it off.

“Because I know you. You’ll stay up for ages and then wake me up when you eventually come to bed at 3 am,” He could tell you agreed just by the look on your face and the way you fidgeted in your seat. “Come on, Sunshine. You know you want to.”

Lee Chan

“You have a schedule tomorrow, Chan. You should go to sleep.” He shook his head. After being with you for a few years now, Chan knew exactly how to make you go to sleep. He knew that if he didn’t, then you’d be tired the next day and he couldn’t have that.

“Not until you come with me, Cutie,” He grinned at you as you rolled your eyes. “You know how it goes. If you stay up, I stay up.”

“You’re annoying, Chan,” You pushed him lightly to the side before standing up and stretching. He always did this to make you go to sleep and you’d yet to find a way out of it. “Did you know that?”

“You love it, though.” 

[wonderful-writes]

Presume

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom thinks you’re too pretty to be any good at academics. You can imagine his shock when he’s proven wrong.

Word Count: 2k (2,097)

Author’s Note: The idea for this fic was given to me by @bellaswansrealgf. It was such a fun topic to write, so thank you so much bae for coming up with the idea! I’ll definitely be using more of your suggestions in the future.

Tom Riddle found himself becoming increasingly irritated. How could Professor Slughorn possibly expect him to work with a partner? What kind of fool did Slughorn think he was? Tom was perfectly capable of completing his project himself, and it was rather insulting for his professor to assign someone to help him. And not just anyone. Slughorn had assigned you.

You, the pretty girl, were in no capacity an ideal partner. You were friendly and charming and surely too bubble-headed to know a thing about potions. You were probably irritating and selfish and vain, too. Tom would have rather been partnered up with the clown from Gryffindor than with you.

“Tom, right?” you asked as you took a seat next to him. You were dressed in neat robes and had nicely styled hair. You probably spent all morning on it.

“Yes,” he replied curtly without so much as a glance your way. He began flipping his textbook to the desired page and scanning it with his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced.

Tom ignored you as he continued to read the page.

“So, what kind of potion do you think we should make?” you asked him, opening your own book.

Once again, Tom didn’t bother to look up or respond.

“Hello?” you tried again.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I know potions is probably not your area of expertise, so it’s best if you just sit there and let me work.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised at how this stranger could claim to already know you without having ever spoken to you. “How would you know if I’m not good at potions?”

Tom scoffed. “If you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly look like you’d be much of an academic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, starting to get offended.

“Well, I’m the best in the class,” Tom said like it was the most natural thing to come out of his mouth. “Professor Slughorn probably sent you here so that I could babysit you. You can’t be any good if you need me as a mentor.”

“I don’t need you as a mentor,” you told him. “Professor Slughorn wanted us to work together for this assignment.”

“Like I said,” he replied, turning back to his book, “maybe you should let me handle the assignment.”

You were beyond aggravated. How could someone who barely knows you make such assumptions about you? You were more than adept in potions, and it was unfair of him to shut you down without letting you prove your skills.

“You realize this assignment is worth 25% of our grade, don’t you?” you asked him as you crossed your arms.

 “Precisely,” he answered. “Which is why I won’t let you mess it up.”

You had never met a more arrogant person.

“If you’re going to be this way,” you declared, “I’ll just ask Slughorn if I can work alone. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience the great Tom Riddle.”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief as you packed your belongings and walked away. You were attractive, sure, but you were also annoying. He was glad to be rid of anyone who didn’t let him take charge.

Slughorn allowed the two of you to work separately. To Tom’s approval, you set up your station far away from his. He almost pitied you. It couldn’t be easy for someone like you to complete an entire project by yourself. People like you only cared about their appearances or what the latest gossip was. There was no way you could make any of the complicated potions on the list of options for the assignment without help.

~

By the end of the week, Slughorn had finished grading the students’ potions and their accompanying essays. Tom, ever so confident in his abilities, was shocked when he didn’t receive a perfect score.

“What did I do wrong, Professor?” he asked after class had been dismissed. “I could have sworn I didn’t miss anything.”

“You forgot to crush the bay leaves before you put them in,” Slughorn explained. “But not to worry, my boy. You chose a highly complex concoction. It is almost guaranteed that any student who attempts to recreate it will forget at the very least one step.”

“Did anyone else choose that potion?” Tom wondered.

Slughorn nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“And did anyone get it right?” Tom asked. He was doubtful that anyone in the class could have succeeded at something he failed to perfect, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“That’s for me to know, my boy,” the teacher answered. Seeing the frustrated look on Tom’s face, he chuckled and added, “Just know that you shouldn’t judge your partners so prematurely.”

Tom spent the majority of the night ruminating on Slughorn’s words. Could it be that you were the student who had gotten the perfect score on the potion he had attempted? He refused to believe it. Slughorn must have been referring to another student, one that Tom was paired with in the past. You couldn’t possibly be the partner in question.

~

It had been weeks since Tom came in second for the first time in his life. He convinced himself that it couldn’t have been you who bested him. Of course, he speculated who the true victor could be, but he couldn’t put his finger on who in the class could be worthy of such high marks.

Eventually, the time came for the annual examination preparation. Professor Slughorn’s students were assigned a series of practice exams to help them prepare for the actual ones. Each practice test focused on a different area within potions, and it was the students’ job to be well-versed in all of them.

At the beginning of every week, a new practice exam was passed out, and the grades for the previous week’s exam was posted on a roster at the front of the class.

Tom never bothered with making a show of checking his grades, knowing fully well that he would always be at the head of the class. But with the newfound knowledge of a possible competitor, he couldn’t quell his curiosity.

Making his way to the front of the room with the usual throng of Slytherin boys, he displayed no sign of concern. Why should the best in the year have to worry about some halfwit who ran into a bit of luck one time?

His air of indifference was quickly squashed, however, when he approached the posted practice exam scores and saw that his was the second highest. Second? That couldn’t be right. Tom Riddle never came in second. Who was first? Who could feasibly best Tom Riddle at a potions examination? The most brilliant student in all of Hogwarts, and in his best subject too?

He was horrified beyond comparison when he saw none other than your name at the pinnacle of the score sheet.

You.

Impossible. There was no chance that the bubbly girl with the face of an angel, er, a moron, could ever have received such excellent marks.

He’d seen you around, and you were most definitely not the kind of girl who cared about your performance in school. You were always smiling with your friends or tucking your hair behind your ear or dazzling a crowd with an extraordinary story. When you weren’t smoothing down your clothes or checking your made-up face, you were befriending the professors, something only stupid people needed to do.

So how could you have gotten a higher score than him? There must have been a mistake. He would have to ask Slughorn about it after class.

As he walked back to his seat, he glanced at where you were positioned, a table not too far from his own. You had already started on your assignment for the day, making quick work of the cutting and crushing of ingredients. Sure enough, you were dripping with the grace and beauty of someone who most likely didn’t know the difference between reed and foxtail.

How could one possibly be proficient in any academic subject when they looked like that? You probably spent more time shining your shoes than studying for exams. Then how did you beat him, and twice?

He watched you work for the remainder of the period. To his surprise, you were doing everything correctly. You never added a drop too much or a sprig too little. You stirred with precision and knew what color to look for in the brew. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Were you truly more intelligent than he had originally presumed?

Still unconvinced, he approached Professor Slughorn after dismissal to question the scores from the most recent exam.

Slughorn only sent him a mysterious look before answering, “Everything is as it should.”

-

After the third week of coming in second place, Tom decided that it was enough. It was time he put his troubles to rest and find out for himself what sort of witchcraft was in play.

“Are you cheating?” he abruptly asked you the moment you took your seat. Professor Slughorn was not yet in class, giving the students ample time to converse before lessons began.

Startled, you stared back at him. “What?”

“You must be receiving help on your practice exams or at the very least borrowing notes from someone,” he stated matter-of-factly. “So tell me. Who is it?”

You had had enough of this arrogant git’s behavior. “What makes you think I need help? Is it so hard to believe that you are not the only person in this room who can do well in school?”

“Well I- you see, you’re not exactly the sort to put much thought to academics,” he defended.

“And what sort is that?” you questioned.

“You know, the vain, pretty lot,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d imagine you spend more time on your appearance than on your academics.”

You gaped at the boy before you. “You think I’m pretty? And before you go on, my appearance has nothing to do with my drive to excel in scholarly affairs. I’ll have you know I’m more than capable of receiving just as good of marks as you are, despite what you think.”

“Then work with me on today’s partner project,” he challenged.

“Excuse me?” The last thing you were expecting was for the high-and-mighty Tom Riddle to want anything to do with you after his blatant rudeness.

“If you’re truly as good as you say—”

“You mean as good as the scores prove,” you cut in.

Tom rolled his eyes. “If you’re really that good, show me. Demonstrate your skills on today’s potion, and I’ll believe you.”

So the two of you spent the class working together on the assigned potion. Tom made sure to stand back so that you could have the freedom to do things on your own, silently hoping that you would make a mistake. But you didn’t.

Your potion was perfect. There was not an herb out of place or a drop not potent enough. Everything was as it should.

You had clearly proven to Tom that you were a skilled student, worthy of his second glance. You only hoped that the self-righteous twat would realize not to judge people before knowing them.

“While I hate to admit my own shortcomings, you were right,” Tom conceded.

You smiled at his admittance. “Thanks, Tom. I’m glad you learned something from this experience.”

He had expected to feel more disdain at the fact that he had finally found his match. He was waiting for annoyance, jealousy, some spark of rage at being second-best. But all he felt was a strange sensation.

You were quite honestly brilliant, and he couldn’t remember a time when he genuinely thought that about a fellow student. You were quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and unafraid to back down from a challenge. You stood up to him despite barely knowing anything about him, other than that he was a royal pain to you. And, not to mention, you were quite a sight to behold.

It was no secret that Tom kept to himself more often than not. Sure, he had a group of peers who respected him — whether out of fear or genuine liking is up for debate — but he never got to know anyone on a personal level. He never let anyone get too close or see him for someone other than the shining pupil with big plans. But, for once, he wanted someone to share his genius with.

He intended to make you that person.

—

Part 2

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

                                                            *  *  *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

                                                              *  *  *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat

[neptune-midheaven]

The Third House Placements and Their Handwriting Styles ~💖🌺🐚

Welcome back babes 😁🙏✨ I’m back posting someee bit but anything nonetheless ! This was a post I wanted to do for a while, this really intrigued me💫

I’m going to be talking about third house placements and their unique to the placement writing styles. Third house rules hands, arms, fingers and writing, correct !😄🎶 There is a correlation between handwriting and third house in astrology as it literlaly rules over it, so components in your third house astrology will dictate how this will look. Use all of the possible combinations you have in your chart ! 🙂☝️

For generational planet ruled signs, use whatever works better.

🔆Sun/leo ~

May have a gift in being very dramatic and showy whenever they express their ideas or in their communication they can be very bright and charming. They’re very talented at absorbing knowledge and facts, they usually are the types of people to dish out random facts about anything whoever you’re talking to them, they have so much random knowledge kept in their minds it’s almost funny. They’re silly and a bit childlike people,

Handwriting style 🦁

Regal, nice looking. They have a confidence to their writing, if the whole class wrote on one piece of paper, theirs would stand out more, maybe a “I can trust what they write is the best there is here” is what people reading over theirs would think.

🌙Moon/cancer ~

Loves sentimental things, talking about the past and family makes them feel good and safe, attachments to the mother, most likely missed her or their family whenever they had to go to school, homesickness at school

Handwriting style 🌝

Soft, homely words. Shyer? They write with a grace and their words are poetically beautiful. It looks like something out of a movie. Nostalgic, their ink is softer and lighter, their curves are soft, their lines and o’s are soft and so sensitive. SO gentle and calm. It’s sleepy?

💫Mercury/gemini/virgo ~

The wittiest, most social people ever. They’re all definitely extroverts, I am one with my gemini in 3rd house ova here 😘, they love talking, and never stop talking and love chatting about anything and never stop chatting about anything, they love walking up to random people and never stop walking up to random people and staring a convo with them out of nowhere 😀. My friends bully me all the time for this. I understand. The one kid in school with like all the answers, they just knew the answer to things and easily got good grades. People asked them for answers all of the time since they are so smart and intelligent, they absorb what they’re being taught so quickly they don’t ever let the teacher finish talking. They’re fast and versatile.

Handwriting style 🤸‍♀️

Fast writing, so many words. They write super fast and probably have so many typos in their essays and papers. Handwriting can look like crap 🤨😐. Like there’s no rush, you’re gonna get your paper done on time! You can’t read what they write al of the time because they rush through writing everything. Their letters and words look fancy somehow, like they were written by the scholar of all scholars, they’re just unintelligible words and sentences. Teachers may need to ask what the student with this placement writes because they can’t read it. Scribbles, jumbled and mixing up things all over the page. You can tell they write fast with the jagged lines and crooked n’s and t’s ajakksks.

💕Venus/taurus/libra ~

Very sweet and charming way of talking to others, they have strong persuasive powers with their honeyed words, they can almost charm you into doing anything, they seem so innocent and sweet. These people are very kind though of course! They love giving others compliments, strangers, their friends, their family, they’re such sweet people to have in your life. They attract partners and relationships by doing their daily tasks, lovers can show up suddenly when they’re running errands or they can attract a lot of interest at their school.

Handwriting style 🍓

The most pleasant, aesthetic handwriting i have ever seen, even if their handwriting is bad it still becomes an art style somehow, i don’t really know how else to describe that. It’s like no matter how bad it could possibly look or how incoherent it is, their script still manages to look NICE.

💥Mars/aries ~

Very loud voices, a bit like sun, but it’s more like their power and strength is used whenever they talk. They could be meaner or aggressive classmates, angry talkers, I know so many people with this placement who talk so mad, so much cursing, ranting and screaming. We love it all.

Handwriting style 🥵

Very rough and fast handwriting, similar to mercury; however, it has more fervor, the messiest and most impulsive handwriting out of all of the other placements.

🐚Jupiter/sagittarius ~

Loud and expressive communicators, similar to the sun here, but they’re louder and bigger. You can hear their voices from across the room and they’re usually the know-it-all’s in the classroom. Very friendly and fun to talk to, they talk about so many exotic and interesting things. They love to crack a joke or two. Also, it’s something about these peoples voices are just FUNNY. Like how they talk is like hilarious and jolly in a good way. It make you wanna crack up and feel good. They make you feel good and BLESSED when they talk to you.

Handwriting style 🍀

Larger letters, I’ve noticed they have bigger “holes” and like to expand their letters over the pages, their words go over the lines and it could be messy usually, sort of like mars fashion but it’s just wider words on the paper.

🪐Saturn/capricorn ~

Very punctual people with perfect punctuation. They hate it whenever their thoughts are messy or unorganized, it makes it hard for them to think thoroughly like they are expected to. They’re the smarter most mature minds in the room. Very deep, daddy voices. IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT. THEY SOUND LIKE THEIR DADS. ITS CRAZY. They talk with so authority and sureness, their diction is so perfect it makes everyone mad.

Handwriting style ✏️

Perfect handwriting, they hate it when their sentences look off or unstructured on a page. The most rounded o’s, the straightest lines and perfect length for every letter they write. Correct punctuation once again, their words look like they were printed by a typewriter.

🌪Uranus/aquarius ~

Very different minds, they could feel strange or odd in school, like they were just the oddball learners, had weird interests, or was a huge nerd over so many subjects. Crazy coffee drinkers, the ones with monster drinks and twenty textbooks that are about to fall out of their open backpacks because they rushed to get to school on time. The craziest people actually, their minds are like on drugs, they can be hard to keep up with.

Handwriting style ⚡️

Weird ways they write certain styles of their letters and their words can “come out” of the page. They write SO fast this is usually why they take harder classes in school with more work just solely on the fact they can write much faster than anyone else. Maybe comic-book looking writing? They’re dynamic and crazy like harsh lines and crazy o’s, there’s something unique about the way they write.

🌊Neptune/pisces ~

Such idealistic thinkers. They want to see the good in their surroundings, they do need to be careful with this because surroundings and things can be deceiving. They can absorb such much of their surroundings, they can be quieter communicators because of this. It can be taken advantage of since they’re overwhelmed by conversations or they can be easily fooled by the wrong people. Like they believe things that aren’t even true? Or they like tell a lot of white lies when they’re talking that make people go like uhh is that even true?😀😀 But they play it off when they’re caught lying, it’s very deceptive. The quietest kids in school that either did drugs or tried to escape class by doing some illegal stuff, or they just left. Some were never seen at school.

Handwriting style 🌀

The sleepiest handwriting I’ve ever seen. It’s provably hard to read what they write. Faded words maybe? Faded words on faded paper. So poetic though, it’s pretty but not in a venus way, it like captivates you. It’s hypnotizing they way they draw out their e’s and their a’s have a dreamy tail that connects to their next letter.

🥀Pluto/scorpio ~

Obsessive minds, they want to know everything possible, they want to reach the deepest depths on information and knowledge. They are motived and driven to know as much as they can, and they always seem to succeed. They’re very smart. The kids in school who would keep to themselves or would obsess over what the teacher taught them, the way they communicate is like they’ve read the same page over and over again for days. Obsessive.

Handwriting style 🖤

Darker, hard to see words, they can have obsessive writing. It’s perfect but fast writing, maybe a bit scary that they have the ability to write so much with so much power? People can be freaked out with just how much they know already. So their words can be very persuasive, so the letters would be magnetic, you love their writing once you read one of their essays. You’re obsessed, just like they are.

[pan-fangirl-345]

Books Bring People Together

Summary: A frustrated and stuck Kaminari comes to you for help, and it somehow blooms into something else along the way.

TW: I made Kaminari ADHD, so I'm sorry if there's anything wrong, I went off what my ADHD friends do and what a medical site told me. I myself am not ADHD, so again, I apologize if there's anything wrong with this. Small swears, and Mineta, which should be a warning in and of itself.

A/N: I have had this half-baked idea stuck in my head for months and I wanted it out, so I am giving you all this!

"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked, sliding into the chair across from you at the common room table.

"Sure, what's up?" you asked, setting your pencil down on the paragraph you were reading.

"Um, this is kind of embarrassing," Kaminari admitted. "But, um, I'm having a really hard time with English right now, and I know that you're right behind Bakugou in grades."

"Where are you going with this Kaminari?" you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You had heard things about Kaminari, and after meeting Mineta and knowing that Kaminari hung around with him, you didn't have the best impression of him. You had just been placed in Class 2-A, and so far you had mostly hung around with what the other students were calling the 'Dekusquad'.

"I need someone to tutor me," he admitted. "Normally English isn't all that hard for me, but Shakespeare is whack and I don't understand half of it."

"You want me," you started, "to tutor you. Why not ask Bakugou? Isn't he your friend?"

"Yeah, but . . . Bakugou has . . . harsh methods, and I need someone who won't treat me like an idiot," Kaminari confessed.

"Alright," you relented. "Why don't we get started now? Do you have anything going on?"

"No, this takes precedent," Kaminari said, rushing to grab his things.

"Alright, here's my question for you," you said when he propped his book open. "Why don't you understand?" You saw the look on his face change and you winced. "Sorry, sometimes I have a hard time controlling the tone of my voice. Let me rephrase that question." You paused for a moment, thinking of the right words before you said, "What about this don't you understand? What's the one thing about this that trips you up?"

"The formatting for one thing," Kaminari grumbled. "Why the hell is printed like that?"

You chuckled, brushing hair out of your face. You had thought the same thing the first time you had read Shakespeare.

"Alright, how about you just read, and then you can ask me any questions while I work on my own stuff, alright?"

"That sounds like it might work," he admitted.

"If that doesn't work, feel free to let me know," you told him. "This is about what helps you remember the material better."

"No, like I said, normally this is really easy for me," Kaminari said. "Let's try it."

"Alright, and remember, if you have any questions, I'm right here."

"Thanks (Y/L/N)," he mumbled.

"Of course, I wouldn't be much of a hero if I couldn't help people, right?" you mused, smiling at him.

"R-Right!" he chirped, grinning back at you.

You both worked in silence for a little bit before Kaminari leaned back in his chair, rubbing at him eyes.

"You okay?" you asked.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm ADHD, so sitting still and trying to read this is a little hard," he confessed. "And I might be dyslexic, I've never been tested but sometimes reading is hard for me."

You frowned, biting the inside of your lip, running the situation through your head.

"What if I read it to you?" you asked, looking up from your chemistry homework.

"How? It's a play," Kaminari said.

"I used to be in a drama club in middle school," you told him. "It's set up like a script, or if we don't have the energy to act it out, it's not hard to pretend that it's a regular story."

Kaminari stared at you for a moment before he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I think that might work a little bit better than me staring at the same paragraph for fifteen minutes without actually reading anything."

"What part are you on?" you asked Kaminari, moving to glance over his shoulder at the page.

"Portia is trying to convince Brutus to tell her what's going on in her house. I think."

"Oh, I adore this part," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "Alright, what has you stuck?"

"This part. 'I grant I am a woman; but withal A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded? Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: I have made strong proof of my constancy, Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. And not my husband's secrets?' I don't entirely understand what she's saying."

Wow, English must've been his thing, he didn't mess up a single word, and he was able to read it fairly fluently, everything considered. It might have taken him a little longer than normal, but he had nailed it.

"Okay, so she's basically telling Brutus that she won't tell his secrets if he tells her what's going on, it doesn't matter if she's a woman or not."

"What was with the voluntary wound thing?"

"So, it depends. Sometimes, in plays, the women playing Portia will have a fake knife and stab themselves in the thigh, other times they pretend to slice themselves, depends on the director," you told him. "She basically cut herself on the thigh and said, 'If I can handle this I can handle whatever's going on inside your head.' Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but damn, this woman is a badass," Kaminari said, staring down at the pages."

"Right? Some people read that as psychotic, but it's Shakespeare," you told him, "everything in Shakespeare is psychotic to some extent."

"That's fair. Thank you for explaining that to me," he said.

"Of course, that is why you came to me," you replied, laying a hand on his shoulder for a moment before you moved back to your seat.

Kaminari, despite the things you had heard, was actually quite intelligent, it just took him a little longer to get the answer sometimes.

"Thank you so much for helping me," Kaminari murmured. "You were super helpful."

"Of course, I actually enjoyed helping you," you told him. "And if you need any more help, please, let me know."

"I will, thank you so much (Y/L/N)," Kaminari repeated.

"Have a good night Kaminari," you told him.

"You too!" he chirped before he headed up to his room.

You sat down at the table again, staring at the chemical formula in front of you.

So, if zinc only had one charge, positive two, and it was combined with thiosulfate, that meant that there shouldn't be the need for two of the zinc atoms, they would make the charge neutral.

You wrote the answer down, checking the textbook to make sure you were right. Polyatomic ions were a little more complicated than monoatomic ions.

There were only a few more questions, and then you could go to bed too, and you just hoped that there were no trick questions.

You were the last one in the common room, as usual, despite assuring Iida that you were right behind him when he went to bed an hour ago.

"Alright (Y/F/N), time for some good sleep," you muttered, shutting your book and gathering your supplies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been tutoring Kaminari for about six weeks, and he was definitely smarter than people gave him credit for. Sometimes he just needed a few minutes to think, or he needed something explained to him in a different way than everyone else.

Sero had been joining your little tutoring sessions too, and you had started doing them in Sero's room, since there were things Kaminari could mess with while he studied, and it was an environment where he didn't feel the need to prove himself.

"Hey, (Y/L/N), can you help me with this problem?" Sero asked, waving you over.

"Of course, what are we working on?" you inquired.

"Polyatomic ions, again," Sero said. "I need this extra credit."

"Alright, which one are you stuck on?"

"How do I figure out which Roman numeral goes here? Gold has multiple charges."

"You work backwards," you told him. "When you look at the formula, you need to figure out what charge dihydrogen phosphate has."

You gestured to the chemical formula.

"It has a negative one charge. Right?" Sero inquired, checking the list of common ions that the teacher had given them at the beginning of the unit.

"Right, and you have three of those ions, right?"

"Yeah, because there's a subscripted three outside the parentheses."

"So you have three of those, which means that those three together have a negative three charge."

"Right."

"So now you just have to figure out which gold variant has the right charge to cancel that one out."

"Well, there's only one gold atom, so it's gold three right?"

"Bingo, you got it."

"Oh, that makes it so much easier than what I was doing," he muttered, erasing the math he had been doing, writing down the way you had just shown him.

"(Y/L/N), can you come read through this essay for me?" Kaminari asked. "I think it's okay, but I need another eye on this."

"Sure, hand it over," you told him, taking the papers that he had handed to you.

You grabbed one of your signature blue pens and uncapped it, ready to mark anything you thought he could do better.

There wasn't as much as you were expecting. While Kaminari had a hard time interpreting things, once he understood, he was golden. He had a way with words, you noticed as you scanned through the paper he needed to hand in next class. You assumed that it gave him time to think about the right phrasing of things.

Other than a few grammatical and spelling errors, the paper was well written, and there was nothing major that needed fixing.

"Good job Kami, this is really good," you told him, ruffling his hair lightly.

He responded well to physical affection and praise, you had also noticed, and he made it easy.

Once you got past the typical shield he threw up, he was a nice guy with insecurities, just like everyone else.

He chuckled, leaning into your hand.

You noticed that the others didn't touch Kaminari as much as you did, despite having known him for much longer. They were worried about getting shocked, Sero had told you.

"Why though? He's never shocked me," you had told him.

"He can't control it sometimes, it builds up in his body and it needs an out."

"Well, that still no reason to stop touching him," you had mused. "If he shocks me he shocks me, it's really no big deal."

Kaminari had only shocked you once, during a thunderstorm when there had been a lot of lightning outside. He had gotten excited about getting a 90 on one of his tests, and had hugged you, giving you a slight shock.

He had apologized profusely, but you had waved his apologies off.

"It's okay Kaminari," you told him. "It happens to all of us sometimes."

You were finding yourself thinking about him more than you should've. You had become good friends with both him and Sero, and the other students had started coming to you when they had a question, but Kaminari was a little different.

It had started out with the flirty comments, but slowly those had turned into real compliments. He had been keeping Mineta away from you more and more, and he had even started laying off the perving with the grape rat.

He was a good guy, he really was, despite the playboy attitude. He was sweet, and he was just like every other person in the world.

"Thanks for tutoring us both," Kaminari said as the session was coming to a close.

"Yeah, you're really saving our asses," Sero agreed.

"Of course, come to me any time," you told them both, smiling as you made to head back to your own room.

"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked.

"Sure. You know how much I love questions," you teased, smiling at him. Then you noticed his expression. "Kami?"

"Will . . . will you-" he chuckled awkwardly, messing with the seam of his pant leg. "Can you read something to me?"

"Yeah, of course," you said. "What is it?"

He handed you the book, and you smiled.

"My dad used to read this to me when I was little. I think that's why I love books so much," you admitted. "That was before . . . well, it doesn't matter now. Come on, we can head down to the common room if you want. Or your room, it doesn't really matter to me."

You had visited Kaminari's room on more than one occasion to return things to him, he tended to be a little forgetful, and he had often left things with you.

Despite the fact that everything you had learned about society told you that you should avoid being alone in a room with a boy, you trusted Kaminari enough to be alone in a room with him.

"I really like to read too," he confessed. "But sometimes my brain doesn't like to let me do it."

"I understand, it's okay," you told him, touching his arm lightly. "Are you sure that you'll be able to sit still long enough for me to get through any of it?"

Kaminari, after spending so much time with you over the last few weeks, had figured out how your voice worked, and he rarely got offended by your tone of voice anymore, which you were thankful for.

"Yeah, I like the sound of your voice, it helps calm me down. I think I might pay attention more if you read it to me."

"Alright, sure, let's go," you said, holding the book to your chest.

You knew this book like the back of your hand, and you had a feeling that Kaminari was telling the truth when he said he would be able to pay attention.

Kaminari followed you into the common room of the dorms, trailing just slightly behind, but he was in front of you the moment Mineta tried to get to you.

It amazed you how fast he could move sometimes, when he really wanted to.

"Get lost Mineta," you said. "I have nothing to say to you."

Mineta opened his mouth but a raised brow from Kaminari had him shutting it and heading to his own room so he could think his pervy thoughts in peace.

"I can't believe I was ever friends with that perv," Kaminari whispered. "I think I owe a lot of the girls apologies."

Kaminari glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled at him, linking your hands together.

You were proud of him, he had really grown lately, and you were glad that he was seeing how uncomfortable he had made the girls.

"I'm proud of you," you told him, and he beamed.

He responded well to praise, and being told that he had done a good job.

"Come on, we'll have to go to bed soon if we don't want Iida to lecture us again," you said, sitting down on one of the couches.

Kaminari sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder as your propped the book open.

You didn't mind the fact that Kaminari was a little clingy, the contact was nice, and he always radiated warmth, though whether that was his normal body temperature or he ran hot because of his quirk, you didn't know.

You started the book off, barely having to look at the words as you read, changing your voice as necessary, stopping every once in a while to explain a word to Kaminari that he didn't understand, or to answer a question that he had.

It was nice, spending time with him like this, simply because he wanted to, not because he was going to fail a subject.

Somehow he had ended up with his head on your thighs, and you had one hand buried in his hair, brushing it away from his face, your fingers carding through it softly.

He was making a content noise in the back of his throat, and you smiled down at him, finishing up a chapter.

"Do you want to go to bed?" you asked softly, not wanting to disturb him too much, he had enough trouble sleeping as it was.

He hummed softly, leaning into your hands, and you smiled down at him softly.

You had never been one for crushes, they had seemed pointless, and there had never been a person who had caught your attention like this.

You had thought about it, of course, what it would be like to be in a relationship, but you had never thought that you would have to worry about it.

Well now you were worrying about it.

That nameless, faceless person that had been with you in those daydreams was starting to look frighteningly like Kaminari.

You had panicked when it had first started happening, until you realized that it would probably fade. You had had a friend in middle school who had a new crush every week, and you had assumed that it would fade with time.

It hadn't. That uneasiness that had popped up around him slowly melted into a nice warmth whenever he was close. You had started to stop worrying about whether he would like this, or hate that, and had started to show your true colors.

He had seemed to like you even more when you had started doing that, and you were glad.

But the only bad thing was that now you were noticing other things. His hands lingered a little longer than necessary when he helped you during training, his smile always seemed brighter when you made him laugh. His eyes always seemed to follow you around the common room, and he sometimes appeared at your side when you walked in.

You weren't sure if you just overthinking things or if he might like you back.

But this wasn't a simple crush anymore. You weren't sure what it was. It was a little too early to be love (even though it was just a rush of chemicals in the brain meant for human survival), but it was way past a simple crush.

Was there another step between a crush and love? Was this going to end with your heart breaking? Was there even a chance that he might like you back?

These were things that you kept in the back of your mind until you were alone in your room. Worrying about them in his presence made him worry about you, and you didn't want him to worry about you if he didn't need to.

"Kami, seriously, you need to go to bed."

"If I do, so do you," he told you, making you chuckle.

"I'll go to bed if you will. You are in my lap after all," you teased, pulling your hands away.

"That's fair," he murmured, stifling a yawn.

"Go to bed Kami," you whispered, standing up as soon as your legs were free.

They had fallen asleep a while ago, but you hadn't had the heart to move him.

"Alright," he mumbled, stumbling towards his dorm room.

You smiled softly, heading for yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't sure what woke you up hours later. Maybe it was the three glasses of water you had drank before bed, or maybe it was the fact that your brain hated you almost as much as Kaminari's hated him.

You stretched, pulling a hoodie on over the tank top and shorts that you had gone to bed in, heading for the common room.

You weren't going back to bed any time soon, so you might as well get some studying done with a nice cup of tea or something.

You were almost surprised to see Kaminari sitting at the common room table with his books out.

"Denki? What are you doing?" you mumbled, wandering over.

"(Y/L/N)? What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you murmured, plopping into the seat next to him.

"Couldn't sleep, my brain went into overdrive the minute I tried to fall asleep."

"I at least got a good four or five hours in," you replied. "But it's Friday night, I should be sleeping in."

"What woke you up?" he asked, laying a hand on your thigh.

Kaminari, you had noticed, liked having his hands on you.

Not in the perverted way you had expected though. He liked having a hand on your thigh or on the small of your back. He liked an arm around your shoulders or his arm linked with yours when you all took class outings. He liked being close to you.

"No idea. It might've been a nightmare," you admitted. "I remember faint flashes, but it might've been something else."

"Are you going to be able to go back to bed?"

"Nah, I'll be up for a good while," you told him, leaning into his shoulder.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Can you just . . . talk to me?" you inquired. "I like listening to you talk about things. Calms me down."

"What do you want to know about?"

"Anything. Everything. You."

"Did you know that I have a cat named Marshmellow?"

"What? No," you said, perking up a little bit. You had always been an animal person.

"Yeah. He's the spawn of the devil, but I didn't know that when I named him. All white, pretty blue eyes. Pure fucking evil," Kaminari told you, taking his phone out to show you a photo.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, he absolutely despises me," Kaminari said, handing his phone over to you. "Loves my sister though, so he isn't a complete psychopath."

"He's a cat, can animals even be psychopaths?" you asked, moving your seat closer to his.

"No idea, but it wouldn't surprise me if he is," Kaminari said, chuckling.

"You're right, he is pretty," you murmured, flipping through the photos quickly.

Kaminari hummed, but when you glanced up he was looking at you.

He had that look on his face, the look that he sometimes got when he looked at you. It was one of the reasons you wondered if he liked you or not. He looked like he was in pain when gave you that look.

"Denki?" you inquired softly.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Like you're in pain? Like you're hurt?" you asked.

You didn't like the way your voice sounded. That little hint of insecurity snuck in, your voice had that clogged sound it got when you tried not to cry.

You weren't sure whether you could handle his response to that, but you needed to know if being around you caused him pain. You needed to know if there was any chance that he hated being in your presence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Kaminari's POV)

Pain, huh?

Yeah, this was definitely pain, seeing her like this, swaddled in a hoodie he had left in her room accidently a week ago, covering her shorts, making her legs look a mile long.

He had tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the feeling in his chest every time he looked at her, tried to ignore the blatant male pride that came with seeing her draped in his hoodie, but he was only human after all.

Denki, after spending so much time with a girl that didn't tend to pull her punches, he knew how uncomfortable he had made the girls with all of his comments. He now knew how it made them feel when he said some of the things he had.

Denki never wanted her or any of the other girls to feel like that again, and he wanted to ignore some of the things that were running through his head, but she was making it hard when she looked at him like that, when she said his name the way that she just had.

"Denks?" she asked softly, moving to get a better look at his face.

Denki had never had a crush, not a real one anyway. He had had his eyes on Jirou first year, but that had been fleeting.

He was flirty, it was just his nature, but this feeling whenever he looked at her . . . that was completely new on him.

"Denki, are you okay?" she asked, putting her hands on his face lightly, making him look at her.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Denki asked, placing his hands over hers. "I wasn't sure whether you felt the same way and I didn't want to mess anything up."

"Denki? What are you saying?" she asked, eyes bright with hope as she looked at him, running her thumb over his cheek softly, almost absentmindedly.

"I like you, (Y/F/N), I like you a lot, and this isn't some . . . three A.M. spur of the moment confession, but . . . it kind of is. The point is that you're smart, and all kinds of gorgeous, and there's so many things about you I wish I could list, but words aren't my thing, and I know that I'm rambling, but I really can't stop 'cause I'm terrified of what your response is gonna be and I don't want to fuck anything up and-"

"Denki," she cut in, smiling at him the way she did when she was fondly exasperated with him. "You have nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. I like you too."

"Why?"

Even Denki was surprised by the amount of confusion in his own voice.

"Because you're a dork," she stated. "Because you're smart, even if people don't always see it right away. Because you want to be a hero, because you like to make a difference. Because in the end, you're a good guy, when you get past the playboy attitude and shitty pickup lines. Because you're cute and all kinds of soft. Because apparently I have a thing for hyperactive morons with screwed up hair."

"Rude," he muttered, but she smiled at him even wider, and he knew that it was worth it.

"Am I wrong?" she asked softly, swinging her legs around to get closer to him.

"No, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy about it," he mumbled, pouting slightly.

She gave a small giggle, something that rarely happened, and Denki smiled, wide and unburdened.

"So, what do you say about going on a date?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear to get a better look at his face.

"I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said to me," she teased.

Denki pouted again and she touched his nose lightly, making it crinkle in response.

"That wasn't a no," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck softly.

"You know, this looks good on you," he whispered, touching the hem of the hoodie carefully. "And it looks very familiar."

"It does?" She pulled away to look down at it and her eyes went wide. "I didn't even know it was yours. I just threw it on on my way down here. When did you even . . . .?"

"I left in there like a week ago," Denki informed her. "I thought you had just kept it."

"I didn't know it was in there," she admitted. "But I'm not sorry that I'm in it, it's very comfortable."

"We can share custody," he murmured.

"We'll have to," she agreed. "I don't think I can deal with never wearing this again. You actually have good taste in hoodies."

"Why are you so surprised by this?" he asked.

"Because most of the time your style seems all over the place," she replied. "But that's not a bad thing. It makes you unique."

"Normal is overrated."

"A normal sleep schedule is not," she said, standing up. She grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, we can chill in my room if you want to."

"You aren't nervous about having me in there?" Denki asked.

"No, because I know that if you try anything I can knock you on your ass. I also trust you," she told him, linking their fingers together softly. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," he breathed, stepping close enough to brush their shoulders together.

He could get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Your POV)

It was a rare day when you and Denki got a day off together. Being heroes was tiring, and schedules were always weird, so when you both got a day off together, you always spent them together.

"You're up early," Denki murmured, slipping in behind you from where you were sitting on the window seat of your apartment.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck.

"The baby woke me up," you said.

Said baby padded into the roof, tail high in the air, a smug look on that cute furry face as he jumped up onto the seat, curling up in your lap.

"Marshmellow, don't lay on my book," you muttered, pulling the book out.

"Told you, he's fuckin' evil," Denki murmured, kissing your shoulder lightly.

His shirt was slipping off your shoulder, and Denki treated uncovered skin like a target, regardless.

"How long have you been up?" he asked.

"Only an hour or two, and you looked so peaceful, I felt bad waking you up. I know that you've been getting more action than I have these last few weeks," you murmured, taking one of his hands, kissing his palms softly, leaning back into his warmth.

"I love you," Denki hummed.

"I love you too Denks," you told him.

"Read to me?" he requested, and you smiled.

"Always," you replied, finding your spot in your book again.

[saintchrollo]

office hours. blah blah blah. tmj. this is happy. no angst. promise. calendar.

“...I know there’s a copy of the textbook on the classroom page, so go ahead and use that. You’re going to want chapters eighteen and twenty-two, and that should help you with the paper. Just have it in to me by Thursday at noon, so I don’t have to come to campus on Friday,” You say, already turning away from the student at your desk to make a note of their new due date on the computer. 

The student scrambled their thanks as they got their things together. 

“Just send whoever is next in after you,” You call after them, the door already creaking open as they leave. 

There’s no greeting of another student coming in, and you can’t hear any creaking of the wood. So you swivel around in your chair to the stack of folders behind you and begin rifling through them, searching for the packets that you could have sworn you printed out yesterday. 

“Are you busy?” 

You aren’t proud of the yelp that leaves your lips and you quickly swivel around in your chair to meet the familiar sound. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, genuinely shocked that Kuroro was standing here, in your office. There hadn’t even been a plan to meet. You’d only just learned where he lived. You had no idea how he knew where your office was. Maybe he had asked. Oh, Deidra down the hall was going to have so many questions for you. Questions that you were definitely not ready to answer. 

“I was in the area,” Kuroro says, and sets a coffee down on your desk, “I just wanted to drop this off.” 

“Oh,” You say, reaching over to accept the drink. “You didn’t cut anyone in line out there, did you?” 

“I waited for them all to finish,” Kuroro responded with a small smile. “Do you always have such a crowd?” 

“It depends,” You say, and watch as Kuroro begins to take his eyes around the organized mess of your office. You aren’t surprised to watch him fall into place before the bookshelf, hands clasped behind him like an old man. “I assigned an essay three weeks ago that’s due tomorrow.” 

Kuroro chuckles. “Ah. I see.” 

You pause for a moment. “How long have you been waiting?” 

“There was only one student. The one who just left.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. “We aren’t dating.” 

“No, but you seem to keep me around despite continuously stating that,” Kuroro says. “How much more work do you have?” 

“As much as I want to make for myself,” You say. “I have things to scan and prints to make and response questions to grade.” 

“Do you?” Kuroro asks. He’s obviously unconvinced.

“Always,” You respond, take a sip of your drink. It’s exactly how you order it and it makes you want to scream. 

He flicks his wrist to gently push the cuff of his shirt back enough to read his watch. “I have tickets to the new Degas exhibit tonight. Two, in fact.” 

“My office hours are over at five,” You say. 

“It’s five-oh-two,” Kuroro says. “Do you want a ride to your place to get changed?” 

“I stay fifteen minutes after because Edgar always lets his class out late,” You continue, gently setting the drink down and turning back around to continue your search.

Kuroro’s lips twitch up in amusement. “Well, should I wait for you?” 

“I can take the metro home,” You reply, then take a deep breath. “You can wait, but if someone comes in looking for me, you’ll have to step out.” 

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Excellent. Are you looking for something, or are you trying to ignore the fact that I’m here?” 

“Can I not do both?” You ask, having to get out of your chair to squat down and look through a lower file cabinet. “But I’m genuinely looking for something. I made copies earlier today and I can’t seem to—”

You’re cut off by a knock on your door frame and immediately stand up, without the copies in your hands. And how you wish there was anyone else standing there but the one person you knew was going to ask questions. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were busy,” Deidra said, glancing between you and Kuroro. Her gaze lingered on the man for a moment before looking back at you. “I was just going to tell you that Monique and I were thinking about getting post-work drinks, and you’re invited.”

“If you’d come five moments earlier, I could have said yes,” You respond. 

“No worries! Is this the boy?” She asks, demeanor immediately changing as she takes a few steps into your office. 

You sigh, and let go of the secretiveness of your personal life. “Yes. Deidra, this is Kuroro, Kuroro, this is my coworker, Deidra.” 

If anything, Kuroro seems more than happy to meet your coworker. He happily shakes her hand, pleased as pie with his, “It’s wonderful to meet you. You’ve heard of me?” 

You cut Deidra a nasty look, one begging for her silence. 

Deidra, however, does not pick up on signs well. “Yes! Whenever we go out for drinks after work she’s been dipping early and has mentioned a man recently. It’s good to know you’re real and it's not just a silly excuse! Wouldn't be the first time [Ophie] has tried something like that.”

“Oh?” Kuroro seems genuinely interested in the facts, which only makes your heart sink further into your stomach. “Well, I’m most definitely real.” 

Deidra has the audacity to giggle before glancing over at you, then back to Kuroro. “Well, it was nice meeting you! And [Ophie], we’ll just have to catch you some other time! Okay, toodeloo!” 

And just as soon as she had arrived, Deidra had left. 

Kuroro cleared his throat, a teasing smile peaking on his face. “You talk about me?” 

“Do you still want someone to come with you to that art opening?” You counter. 

“Would you rather go get drinks with your friends?” Kuroro asks. 

No. You both know the answer. 

“It’s fine-fifteen, by the way,” Kuroro says. “Am I overstepping if I say I might have a dress for you to wear?” 

“It depends on if I like the dress or not,” You say, sighing as you begin to pack up your things. There isn’t much. Just a few essays. Kuroro doesn’t let you carry your work bag as you walk to his car. 

It’s as you’re walking there do you realize how nice it would be to hold his hand. 

[cjsinkythoughts]

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you. 

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps  giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff. 

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted  your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?” 

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands. 

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

[mioneslovefanfiction]

I’m here:

Hermione x reader

Prompts:

“You’re safe here, I got you.”

“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”

“Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

“You’re comfy.”

“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Description: Hermione is stressed out from studying for OWLs. Y/n tries to give he a break and pulls her away from her work, and comforts her during a freak out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Food (no eating tho), Anxiety attack-please do not read if content is triggering

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was in the way she talked. Slightly higher than normal, and a little airily.

It was in the way she avoided eye contact, and when she gave into it, it was like her eyes were out of focus.

The way she clenched her jaw while reading in front of the fire one night. Normally, she enjoyed everything she was reading, and her features were usually content as she immersed herself happily into any topic. Instead, she was stony-faced, eyebrows drawn together with a frown as she huffed through the book.

Something was up with Hermione Granger.

It was normal for you and your girlfriend to study on the floor in front of the common room fire together. What wasn’t normal was how you were doing it independently. Normally you read together, or quizzed each other, or simply talked about the subject you were studying for. Today, however, the common room was full of cold unusual silence, as Hermione turned page after page, long into the night. The light from the fire danced angrily across her scowl, and you gulped, trying to focus on your work. You didn’t push the topic when Hermione was a bit distant those couple days. It wasn’t normal for her to be that work obsessed, but you let it be, thinking she just needed to get it over with.

But, after a few days of Hermione and her studying being inseparable, you came up from quidditch practice and Hermione wasn’t waiting for you, like normal. Your worry kicked in when she wasn’t waiting in the common room either.

Something was wrong in the air immediately as you stepped into your shared dorm. There was an anxious tension, and the room was uncharacteristically cold. Hermione sat, back to you at the desk in front of the window. Her leg jiggled, and her jaw was moving as she chewed the inside of her cheek. Her non-writing hand twirled a curl around her finger, rapidly.

“Love?” You asked, hesitantly. She jumped several inches into the air before turning to you, your attempt not to startle her, failing. You only saw a glimpse before she turned back around, away from you. “Yes?” She asked, attention wavering no further from her work.

“Are you okay? I was wondering why you didn’t meet me in our normal spot.” “I’m fine.” Her answer was monotone and short, leading you to know that even if she thought it was, it was not true. “Sooo, what are you doing?” You asked, trying to inject yourself into her studying. “Professor Bins.” She was being vague and indirect, her body language showing she was beyond on edge. “Oh, are you working on the essay?” You tried not to be hurt at her negligence. She simply hummed a yes to you. “Alright well, I’m gonna reread the textbook in the common room in front of the fire. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.” She didn’t answer when you waited for her to. Sighing in defeat, you planted a hurried kiss on her cheek before grabbing your sweater and leaving.

If Hermione had been focusing on you, she would’ve noticed how your text book remained in your bag, on the floor. She’d wonder why you retrieved your sweater to sit by a fire, and lastly she’d wonder how you were doing. Instead, she sighed at the sound of the door closing behind you, and scribbled, somehow faster. You didn’t mind, however, knowing this wasn’t about you, and that she needed you.

___________

You sat in the common room waiting, for ten minutes. When she didn’t show up, plan B began, because you knew something was off. You gathered some things you had kept with Ginny and headed off to the East end of the castle, determined.

You returned to your dorm twenty minutes later. There was the same jumpy tension hanging in your normally warm, inviting room. This time, you walked up to your working girlfriend and rested your hands on her shoulders, standing behind her chair. “Can I steal you for an hour, love?” You asked, planting a kiss on the top of her head, and starting to massage her shoulders. Her eyes closed at their own accord, and her head slowly leaned back onto your chest. She sighed, “I- I can’t, baby. I have to-“ Hermione’s excuse was cut off by your lips tugging on hers. She hummed and you smiled. Disconnecting, your eyes met. “Please?” You begged, your eyebrows drawn together. She couldn’t help but smile and roll her eyes at your pleading. “I-… fine, but not a whole hour.” You beamed at her answer before grabbing her hand and tugging her up, and out your door.

You dashed, laughing through the corridors. Your eyes gleamed, your face was elated, making Hermione blush and beam in spite of herself. Eventually, you dragged her to the base of the astronomy tower, and she realized what you had been doing while she worked. She shook her head and laughed as you started, “After you, my love.” You grinned smugly, gesturing up the stairs in front of you. Rolling her eyes and smiling, she began the journey to the top of the tower, you following close behind, eager for her to see what you did.

You climbed higher and higher in a comfortable silence, just enjoying uninterrupted time together for once.

Finally, you realized you must have reached the top, as Hermione froze in front of you. You caught up, behind her to see she was standing in the doorway, looking around, amazed. You chuckled to yourself, pleased. You reached to her side and grasped her hand again, intertwining your fingers, which fell together like they were made to fit in each other. She slowly stepped forward a few paces, allowing you to step into the room next to her. Now side-by-side, you watched her absorb the room.

Fairy lights hung in spirals from the beams separating the glass panes on the ceiling. A comforter lay in the middle of the room, complete with a few cushy pillows. There was a wicker picnic basket on the floor behind the blanket, and next to it sat an unlit candle.

Hermione’s eyes danced eagerly over each detail, the orbs bursting with wonder and astonishment. She turned to you, incredulously, “Wha- is this what you were doing?” You nodded, blushing before looking down at your feet with a soft smile. You gently tugged her hand in the direction of the blanket, and you two started walking over to it. Sitting down, she shook her head, speechless. “You made this for me?” She finally managed, eyes full of adoration as she rested her hand appreciatively on your knee, her thumb rubbing back and forth. “Of course! You deserve all this, and so much more, ‘Mione.” Hermione blushed, finally looking deep into your eyes with a small smile. You leaned in and rested you lips against hers. Hermione was a dangerous substance, so powerful and addicting. You would have worried about falling, if your mind wasn’t assured of her silken lips catching you, just like the thousand times they had before. You separated and brought a hand to her velvety cheek, rubbing your thumb back and forth a few times, before tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

____________

You broke the comfortable silence, “So, you’ve been kind of distant this week. A little off from your normal self. I’m worried. Are you ok?” Hermione disconnected your eyes quickly, “I’m-“ You cut her off, knowing what she’d say, “I know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine’.” Hermione scowled uncharacteristically at the ground, when she gasped suddenly and jumped up. “My essay! It’s been too long, I need to go!” She made to leave, but you grabbed her hand before she could. “Let me go, I haveto leave! I need to study.” Her voice came out harsh, making you falter momentarily. She saw the hurt in your eyes and started to panic.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly and she started to sweat. “I- oh no. I have to go. I hurt you. I’m gonna fail. I didn’t mean to- I need to study. I hurt you.” She muttered, hyperventilating. “Hey, love, look at me. Hey, it’s okay, you’re fine.”

Her hands rose to run through her hair, flustered. Her eyes were wide, and darted between your figure and the door as she was torn. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m gonna fail the class.” You guided her to sit down with you and held both her hands in yours. You moved them to rest on your chest and started breathing deeply, “It’s alright, we’re fine. Breathe, ‘Mione, breathe. I’m here with you, I’m not leaving. Breathe just like me. Hey, look at me.” You voice was comforting, and Hermione finally met your eyes and started to match her breathing with yours.

When her panting had gone down you pulled her against your chest and laid down against one of the pillows behind you two. “You’re safe here, I got you.” Hermione’s head lay over your heart to ground her further. “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.” Your hand ran through her curls, soothingly as you whispered to her, “Everything’s okay. We’re together. You’re gonna kill the OWLS. You’re the smartest in the class. You can study with me, we’re in this together, as a team, aren’t we? I’m not going anywhere.” Eventually your affirmations died down, and a refreshing quiet washed over you both. The May breeze coming in from all directions of the open tower kept you guys comfortable. The sounds of the leaves settling in for bed and the gentle, distant lapping of the black lake reached your ears.

Hermione took in a deep breath and let it out in a content sigh. “I am so sorry, love.” She sounded guilty. “What on earth for?” You asked. “You we’re just trying to distract me and take care of me, and I just unraveled on you, out of nowhere. Not to mention I’ve been ignoring you for almost a week. You’re my girlfriend, and I just neglected you.” You sighed, “Mione, your head has been everywhere this week, and it’s fine. You’re always on top of everything, it just caught up to you. Don’t worry about me, I understand, okay? I know it wasn’t about me, it’s alright.” Hermione grunted, “I know, I just feel bad.” “Well don’t. We’re here together now, aren’t we? Let’s just focus on this moment.” Hermione smiled gratefully at that, snuggling further into your chest. “You’re comfy,” she giggled, making you laugh.

You kissed the top of her head delicately, “I love you.” She shifted to look up at you, eyes shimmering in the fairy lights and stars that sprinkled the inky sky laying above you. A grin spread on her face, making her happy eyes twinkle. “I love you too,” she answered. She leaned forward and you kissed her passionately, letting all your reassurance pour into it. She gave you a shy smile after pulling a part, “Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” You laughed before reaching over and handing her your sweater. You shook your head as she squealed happily, cradling the clothing. Hermione pulled the jumper over her head eagerly. Her head popped out of the top suddenly, her smile a beam, curls a mess, and eyes gleaming ecstatically.

Her hands were balled inside the sleeves as she gripped your face to kiss you. Her lips were warm, cushy, and gentle. The material of the sweater on each of your cheeks was so soft, but scratchy at the same time. Your foreheads rested together after separating, and you stared lovingly, deep into each other’s eyes. You took her hands in yours, and said seriously, “Never change. Please always be the girl I love so deeply.” She lifted a pinky and said, “I promise.” You latched your pinky with her’s and placed a delicate kiss on her freckle sprinkled nose. She scrunched it in pleasure and placed a peck to your lips in return.

You reached over for the matches you had sat by the candle earlier, lighting it. Removing the glasses from the basket, you poured each

of you a glass of sparkling cider. You took out two plates topped with baked sandwiches and fruit salad. The melons were cut in to stars, making Hermione smile at all the thought you put into this. You lastly retrieved cannolis for dessert.

________________

You lied back down after eating, gently pulling Hermione with you. She burrowed her head under your chin, nestling in. Your girlfriend raised a balled hand under your sweater’s sleeve up to her face. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled deeply, smiling contently as your cherry blossom scent reached her button nose. You both giggled, and you ran your fingers through her mane. You spent another hour curled together under the twinkling stars, talking, or sometimes simply laying in soothing quiet. You enjoyed being alone together, content with the world continuing around you.

The candlelight danced cheerily across Hermione’s perfectly chiseled, yet distinct features. The stress of school was no match for the pair of you. It was you two against the world because you had each other. You never wanted to be apart from the amazing girl on top of you. Her entire being was utterly flawless, and you were entirely devoted to every particle in it, with every bit of you. You couldn’t choose not to adore her even if you tried. You were whipped, wrapped entirely around the little pinky you had latched not half an hour ago. You were deeply, madly, hopelessly in love with her.

A/n: my family and i learned that my great grandmother’s tumor is growing again and it can’t be removed because of the location. Sooo I’m taking a very last minute 12 hour road trip to see her while she’s still doing pretty well.There’s no wifi (I write my stories in the notes app before copy and pasting them to upload them so I don’t need wifi to write) and every now and then I’ll need a distraction, so I’d love any requests sent, along with any prayers.

-mioneslove<3