#Thank you the-geek-librarian for the suggestion!!

[cringeyvanillamilk]

Sooo About Your Modern day black clover AU I wanted to ask : What are Lolo and Megicula doing? Like I can imagine that Meg works in Vanicas agency as her designer or Manager. Lolo I think may also be a Model ( like Vanica ) purely because she needs to be "cursed" (and traumatized) somehow

It's been a while since I've worked on my modern day Black Clover AU, but those are great suggestions! 👀

I haven't thought of anything for Lolo and Megicula previously, but I do think that Meg being Vanica's business partner and Lolo being a retired model would be a good choice.

I like the idea of Mag being more of an advisor to Vanica, approving business decisions that could help her agency thrive. Of course, she would also be connected to some shady connections that may or may not have led Lolo to have a serious injury.

Lolo would've been a famous model who got caught up in an "accident" that almost killed her if it weren't for her bodyguard, Gaja. This led her to permanently retire from modeling, but got to open up a huge book store. She still donates to charities and volunteers.

[shawnxstyles]

the list

DATE: JUNE 15, 2023

summary: tom offers for you and your writing partner to work at the empty frat house when you have no other options. even though you hate tom with a burning passion, you can’t fail this class. when all is going fine, your partner has to leave abruptly for an emergency, leaving you with no way home (wink). thinking you’re all alone, you decide to snoop through tom’s belongings to try to find his rumored list.

request: yessss

song: Hot in Herre- nelly

words: 9.2k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [oral, fingering, cock-thumping, nipple play, choking, deepthroating], m- receiving [blowjob], [small] daddy kink, degrading kink, rough/protected sex [not clearly consensual, but implied], mention of reader going under/slight subspace), pet names (princess), a lot of language, and a lot of dialogue.

note: I’M BACK and i’m with this big baby right here. i hope you guys enjoy this because it took me a few days to write. i’m glad to finally have some time to write again!

frat!tom x college!reader

–

“I’m really glad we got to be partners on this,” You smile as you hug your textbook and notebook to your chest.

“Yeah, me too. I think we’ll do great,” Brandon replies, and then the conversation basically stops there. It was dry and kind of awkward, but he was pretty nice, so it’s alright with you.

Your Creative Writing class was assigned a project that consisted of writing a short story with another person. Your teacher picked the partners and you got Brandon, which you were thankful for because he is original and creative, also known as not being a plagiarizer. But you weren’t sure how well your guys’ genres mixed.

You wrote a lot of old realistic romance stories, whether it was for free-writing in class or on your own time. Brandon apparently wrote a lot of futuristic science fiction and read a lot of comic books. You weren’t against the idea that he was a nerd or a geek, but you just hoped it didn’t overwhelm your writing process. But again, he was nice, which you didn’t get from most guys.

The campus is bussing like usual. All different kinds of people roam the concrete ground waiting for their classes to start or trying to leave without dropping all their things or wandering because they don’t know what else to do. It’s a balance that you’ve been accustomed to for the past year. Yeah, you took a gap year at 18 and are now a 20 year-old sophomore in college, but that doesn’t mean you have your shit figured out. No one does, and that kind of comforts you.

With these random thoughts, you and Brandon walk through the crowded campus until you reach the library.

“What the hell,” You squint your eyes at the paper sign that is taped to the glass door. You suggested the library as your work spot because Starbucks may be a little loud and you needed a lot of silence while writing. You’re also very picky with your own stories, so you can’t even imagine how it’s going to be when you combine ideas. Maybe you should just be less conceited…

As you read the surprisingly fine print, you find out that the room is having an inspection check.

“The librarian told people not to eat in there,” Brandon shakes his head in disappointment and you sigh in subtle annoyance.

“Well what are–”

“Oh, shit, it’s closed?” A voice appears from behind you and you nearly turn around and swing at the body. Only because you know whose body it belongs to.

A body with perfect fucking arms and a stupidly good-looking face–

Stop it.

“No, it’s just locked and has a sign that says it’s closed,” You roll your eyes as you spin around, facing Tom in all his stupid glory. A slight smirk creeps up his face as his eyes look down at you. You watch as he chews his gum, and you hate that it’s kind of hot.

Stop. It.

“What’s with the attitude? I just asked a question–”

“Well, it was a stupid question,” You snarl, biting on your lip in irritation. Even looking at him gets you all riled up because you know how he is.

You’re not sure exactly when you started hating Tom, but you know exactly why. Hate might be a strong word, but it goes well with the feeling you experience every time his name is mentioned or you see his smug face. You hate the way he talks about girls. You hate the way he treats girls, like they’re on some type of list and he’s just checking them off. Every time he even looks at a woman he finds mildly attractive, she’s instantly on said-list. He probably has a handwritten copy somewhere. You wouldn’t be surprised because you’ve heard that rumor before.

You heard a lot about him before you actually knew him. You heard through the grapevine that he lost his virginity to a girl in college when he was only 15, and now he’s a senior in college. And that he fucked three different girls in the same day during his senior year of high school. And a new one that you’ve heard is that he has sex every single day with a new person because he can’t live without it. You’re not sure if all of these are true or correct, but after you got to know him just a little, you know that it can’t be too far from the truth.

Tom was in your Film Analysis class last year. You purposely sat next to him because you thought he was cute, and you weren’t wrong, but you paid for it at the end of the year. He would constantly peek at your papers, and at first, you thought it was a sign of flirting. But he was just too involved with his phone during the films that he never knew what was going on once the assignments came. Your professor didn’t let you guys change seats because it was easier to take attendance with a seating chart, and he had “hundreds of students every day” blah blah blah. Why did your teacher have to be so old he was on the brink of death?

Throughout the entire year, you would overhear Tom talk about girls and what he was doing with them. It disgusted you that someone could be so objective and still get the girl (or girls), but you tried not to get involved with it. Then one day, like a random switch, Tom tried to hit on you. He tries to deny it, saying “Why would I do that?” and “You’re not my type” and shit like that, but Tom is only in it for the sex. He doesn’t care too much about appearances, so that’s how you know he was full of shit.

To this day, you swear you’re still on his list, whether it’s a physical or mental one. Tom flirts with you like he can, and yeah, sometimes that fucks with your head, but you remain composure. Because of your curiosity, you want to find out, one, if he actually has a list and two, if you’re on it. But your hate for him overpowers your curious wonders. If you did find this “list,” you wouldn’t stop making fun of him for it. And, he wouldn’t be able to survive if you were actually on it.

“Can we work at your place, Y/N?” Brandon asks, completely ignoring Tom.

“Can’t,” You reply, “my roommate asked for the evening, so she can…have her boyfriend over.”

“Oh,” he stares at the ground awkwardly and scratches his neck.

“Oh, you mean have sex?” Tom inserts himself into the conversation. You glare at him with searing lasers in your eyes. “What? You can’t say the word sex? Does it turn you on too much or something?”

“Tom!” You whack him in the arm with your heavy textbook and he simply laughs. It was whole and deep, and it made you feel all warm, but so did your hatred for him, so what’s the difference? “What is wrong with you? Do you have any filter?”

“I’m going to say…no,” he winks and crosses his arms like he is the coolest person to walk this earth. His smugness makes your fists clench and your blood overheat with fiery.

“Okay, before this gets into an argument, where are we going to work?” Brandon chips in with his hand on your shoulder. You take a deep breath, trying to think rationally.

“You can work at my place,” Tom licks his pink lips and infamously smirks again. Your body is so hot that it melted your brain into a mush of incomprehension, so you can’t even respond to his idiocracy before Brandon very unsurely says why not.

Fuck.

–

“Welcome to The House,” Tom introduces dramatically while flinging the door open for you both. You swear that was the most gentleman-like thing he’s ever done.

“At least come up with an original name,” You roll your eyes again like your body has been programmed to every time Tom opens his mouth.

“So much attitude for such a tiny person,” he taunts, shutting the door behind him. Brandon walks quickly into the dining room with his backpack, leaving himself out of the very heart-felt conversation between you and Tom. Your jaw ticks a tad at his words. “I love when you roll your eyes.”

Your face scrunches in disgust, but can’t help it when your curiosity slips from your mouth, “Why?”

“Because then I know I’ve done my job,” A hint of a smirk rises on his lips while your eye twitches at his arrogance.

“And what is your job? To annoy the shit out of me? ‘Cause if it is, congratulations! You get promoted every time you talk to me,” No matter how badly you want to, you resist the urge to roll your eyes just because you know how much it would please him. Even with your irate words, that all-too familiar smirk lingers like he’s proud.

He likes when you fight back because no one ever does. It’s easy for him. Too easy sometimes. Yeah, he likes when he can sleep with a girl without having to try too hard, but once he met you, he realized he liked a bit of a fight. Tom craved the passion and bubbling tension that strangled the air between you both. It was thrilling and enthralling, and he knew with enough poking and prodding, you would snap. That was his job; to make you snap.

“Close, but no cigar.”

“What are you, like, a hundred?”

“I’m surprised you’re still talking to me, princess.” There’s that name. That stupid fucking name. You know that he throws that title around like candy to women. You know that the sweet undertone of the tag is what it does for them and what gets them in his bed at the end of the night. It angered you that he thought you were so easy, so gullible. But no, you weren’t going to let him smooth-talk you all the way to his bedroom. Even if it was just upstairs…

“Actually, I’m not anymore,” You finished the conversation and walked away. After you stopped facing him, your eyes immediately went to the back of your head in a dramatic roll. As you enter the dining room, you are suddenly aware of the heat radiating off your skin. You lift a hand up to your beaming cheeks, which turn out to be flaming with the fury bubbling in your blood.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Brandon asks, being the nice guy he is. You swallowed and inhaled.

“Yeah. Let’s get started.”

–

Not even ten minutes later, Tom comes bustling into the room. He says he was just checking up on you guys, but he was just trying to annoy you. After half an hour, he comes back again, saying something about the last football game and if you two have watched it. You inhale a few times, squeezing your pencil in your hand. He walks into the kitchen ajar and grabs something from the fridge.

“Tom, can you leave us alone? We have to get this done by Friday.”

“But it’s my house. I should be able to go wherever I want in my own house.”

“You literally invited us here, so we could work in peace!” You didn’t mean to shout, but Tom brought out the worst in you.

“I never said anything about peace–”

“Look, Tom, just please leave us alone, yeah?” You lowered your voice a bit, hoping maybe he would hear you. To your surprise, he licks his lips and re-enters the dining room, standing near your chair at the end of the table.

“All you had to do was say please, princess,” he winks and struts away, and somewhere inside of you is annoyed that he got the last word. But a big part of you was…affected. Badly. You never thought in a million years the name princess coming from his mouth would hit you, but for some odd reason, it did. Maybe it was because of his impromptu alliteration. Or the wink–no, it couldn’t have been the wink. Maybe it was the octave of his voice? You noticed how it got a tad deeper when he talked to you compared to how he did earlier. Were you looking too far into it?

Fuck, now he’s got you in your head.

Was this his job all along?

“How does that idea sound?” Brandon’s voice pulled you from your overwhelming thoughts, but not fast enough.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” You apologize with a head shake. He repeats, and you write it down. This goes on for about an hour or so; you two throwing ideas back and forth.

You tried to find middle ground. You assumed you would be writing some sci-fi romance, and you were correct. Although you wanted to be there in the moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about Tom, and just the thought infuriated you. If you were present, you wouldn’t have complied and agreed to some of Brandon’s suggestions without more of a fight. The more ideas he spouted out, the weirder they got.

“Robots…God, I love writing about robots. Robots falling in love?” he pauses for a moment. “while trying to take over the world! You have to write that one down.”

You wrote it down, but your mind was moving differently than your body. As he suggested more topics, you zoned out completely. He was clearly very into the process and you…couldn’t have been farther from it. Like an echo, Tom lingered in your mind.

Where was he? What was he doing? Was he having sex right now? Why wasn’t he bothering you anymore?

You might have told him please, but Tom is just as stubborn as they come. You can’t say much though because you’re just as stubborn yourself. Maybe that’s why you two always bicker. You wondered if he fought with anyone else like how he battled you. Was he trying to make you mad just for the fun of it, or did he want something more?

Was there really a list? You can’t be the only person who’s considered that, right?

“Oh no.” The two words out of Brandon’s mouth brought you back because they were different from one of his absurd ideas. His eyes are staring at his phone screen once you start focusing in on him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“It’s…a family emergency. Shit, Y/N, I have to go up North. Like right now. Do you think we can pick this up in a few days?” He wavers out nervously and clearly full of panic.

“Y-yeah, of course!” You blink rapidly at the sudden change and nod to every word without really thinking.

“Are you sure?” He questions, but he’s already standing up from the table with his backpack tight around his shoulders and his keys in his hand.

“Yes, now go!” You flee him from the house, so he can get a head-start on his drive. As his car zooms down the street, your eyes wander to the empty driveway of the house. And then it gets you wondering again.

How are you going to get to your dorm?

“Fuck,” You grumble in the evening air, the sun barely beginning to set.

You had no money on you, and of course your card wasn’t linked to your phone, so you couldn’t buy an Uber, Lyft, or anything. You creep your way back into the frat house with slugged shoulders. You drop yourself onto the small couch as silence roams around. You never in your life thought that a frat house, or any house with just guys, would be this quiet. It makes sense that they’re all out though because they’re all social butterflies trying to get laid at the latest party. Woo hoo. Sense the sarcasm?

Feeling sorry for yourself, you wander around the house. You pad the entire downstairs area before making your way up the staircase. The second you touch the top step, your curiosity starts to plague you.

Where’s Tom’s room?

Yeah, okay, maybe it’s rude, but you don’t know what to do. And, come on, it’s Tom. He doesn’t care. More specifically, you don’t care. You don’t care that you’re about to snoop his room because no one is here and it’s not like he’s going to know, right?

There’s about five bedrooms upstairs and three of the doors were open. With delicacy, you barely pushed open the doors that weren’t closed completely as if they would creak loudly and someone would find you. You peeked in a few rooms, glancing at the designs to see if you saw something that related to Tom. None of the rooms seemed fitting.

And then, like a lightbulb, you remembered that Tom was the leader, or whatever bullshit they called him. You know the title only ever gave him an ego boost. In most cases, the “leader” gets the biggest bedroom, well, at least that’s what it was like at your friend’s sorority house. So, testing your theory, you trail down the carpeted hallway until you reach the last room, which you assumed was the largest. Turning the knob, your eyes stare at the master bedroom before you.

Called it.

The room had white walls, just like the others. But Tom had a lot more personality through his decorating than you would have thought and it was…surprisingly…well-kept. Maybe it wasn’t his room.

As you stepped a foot inside, you got the hint that his favorite color was blue; navy bed sheets, baby blue desk lamp, midnight-colored nightstand, cyan desk chair, and a few other accessories that solidified the idea. Your eyes stay glued to his bed for a moment. It was a little ruffled, like he had been sleeping in it, but you knew that bed had been through more than just sleeping. You never thought you’d feel bad for a mattress and some sheets.

Before you know it, you’re traveling towards his desk, which was white (everything was very randomly assorted). You nibble on your bottom lip, debating on if it’s worth digging through the four drawers to find the one thing that’s been nagging you for months.

The list.

Something deep inside of you is warning you that searching through his belongings is a bad idea, but there’s really nothing that stops you from pulling open the first compartment. Carefully, you shift around the assortment of pens and pencils until you admit there’s nothing but those in there. Moving on to the second drawer below the first, it’s extremely heavy. Then you realize the weight is from three hefty textbooks that look completely untouched.

Makes sense.

In the next top drawer, there’s nothing useful beside clean, unused binder paper. Losing all hopes of being right, you check the final drawer. Just in case.

You didn’t know what you were going to find inside of there. But whatever you may have thought, it wasn’t this.

In the deep compartment was a bunch of clothes. Women’s clothes. A few shirts, even some socks, but mainly bras and panties. You almost touched them to sift through it, but immediately retracted your hand before doing so, assuming these articles haven’t been cleaned. Your face is frozen in disgust at the pile as if your gaze is going to burn all of it away.

“I thought it would take a lot more work to get you into my bedroom,” A deep accent says, causing you to jot and slam the drawer closed.

From your crouch, you fall to the ground, heart racing erratically at the sight of Tom. Every nerve of your body was screaming in alert because you thought you were alone. Layers of goosebumps litter your skin when you visually take in his appearance; frizzy, damp hair, dark blue briefs, and a white towel draped over his buff shoulder. You swallow every bit of your saliva and leave your mouth completely dry as your eyes shamefully trail down his entire physique.

It’s not like he’s trying to hide anything.

“It’s a bit rude to stare, yeah?” he ticks, using the towel to dry his hair a bit more. His briefs were a little tight, and you wondered if they were the wrong size. Especially from your seat on the floor, you got the perfect view of his bulge outline. Your stomach burned and your eyes couldn’t stop blinking, trying to make the image go away, but it didn’t. It was real. At this point, he’s basically just giving you a free show. You mentally hated yourself for enjoying every second of it.

Stop it. Now, how are you going to get out of this?

“What were you looking for?” Tom asks almost innocently with a lick of his pink lips, trying to hold back a little smirk. Tom liked watching you snap, but he loved when you were flustered. He loves watching you get embarrassed because you feel hot all over. It’s a sight to see.

“Something to get you arrested,” You reply just as lightly, trying to hide your startledness before awkwardly pushing yourself on your feet. You try to keep your eyes away from him, but it’s difficult when his body is practically glistening in all its chiseled glory.

“Like what? A gun?” he jokes with a charming smile, slowly striding closer to you. Your breathing staggered a tad, but you kept your composure. Mostly.

He honestly looked like he had a gun in his briefs.

He laughs.

“I hope you know it’s not a gun, princess,” That lingering smirk is plastered on his arrogant face again and you wanted to punch it off of him. You couldn’t believe yourself for thinking out loud, especially because it was the last thing you wanted him to hear. You knew it was only an ego-booster. Your entire body flushes in overwhelming heat, wondering how you’re ever going to escape his looming presence.

“I-I obviously know that’s not a gun, Thomas,” You grind your molars at your stuttering because it makes you look and sound weak. Your trembling fingers turn into heated fists that have been ignited by only one thing; your arousal.

“Thomas? That’s a new one,” While you’re stuck in place, Tom doesn’t shy away from inching closer towards you. You don’t even realize it, but you’re holding your breath. “Are you okay, Y/N? You look a bit…flushed.”

Your heart unconsciously stammers against your chest, attempting to find an outlet. But there is none. Just like there is no escape from Tom as he stands in front of you unmoving. He’s so close, impossibly so, that your pounding heart is lurching towards his.

“It’s…hot in here,” You reply with an observation. Your voice was whispering as if your voice was afraid to speak any louder. With his proximity he could probably hear every heated pump of your blood.

“Like the song,” Tom smirks because he knows the real reason why you’re all hot and bothered. It’s something deeper than the temperature of his bedroom (because it really wasn’t that warm). “You know it, right?”

“Yeah, who doesn’t?” You almost roll your eyes before you stop yourself.

“Remind me, what’s the next lyric?”

A wave of heat crashes over your neck at his words, deep and low. Your stomach was burning with desire while your clit was throbbing in your underwear. You never would have thought that you’d be turned on by Tom, but you were doing only the impossible today.

Escaping this situation has left your mind. The only thing in your head now is staying in it.

“Take off all your clothes,” A breathless sound wavers out of your throat and you’re surprised you were even able to respond. Tom’s face is smug, almost proud at how flushed you are. His hand reaches up and ever-so delicately traces over your jawline. It was so gentle, but because he was finally touching you, you nearly moaned. You’ve never needed someone so badly before, and you never thought the person you’d be needing the most would be Tom.

You keep thinking that, but it’s just so hard to comprehend the idea of anything Tom.

“Is that something you want?” Tom’s husky voice fans over your heated skin as his fingers trail down your neck. Your chest raises up and down, and even if you’re trying to fight the feeling, you can’t. Your entire body wants him–no, damn-near craves him–to the point where you can’t even speak. Your subconsciousness hates you because you know how much he is just loving this. You hate to give him such satisfaction. “D’you want to strip? Right here in front of me? Or do you want me to do it for you? Because–”

“Yes,” You whisper with your eyes facing his chest, too afraid to stare into his lust-taken eyes.

“No,” he says, and for a moment when he took a breath, you thought he’d just rejected you. “I need to hear you say it all. I need to hear you tell me what you want. Tell me how bad you want it. I bet I can give it to you. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

His words practically made you a puddle at his feet, but they also made you want to slap him with those heavy textbooks until he learned some manners. Has he really been waiting for you? Or is that just another one of his lines? One that he uses on every single girl he gets in his bed?

Your mind might have cared at any other time, but your body overruled.

“I want…” Your mind was filled with so many possibilities, it was crowding your brain. Tom’s hand that was tracing your jawline then cupped your neck gently, causing you to sigh. You couldn’t resist swallowing all of your saliva again along with your pride. Because you were about to do something really stupid. If you were in a clear mindset, this would have never happened, you’re sure of it. But common sense isn’t here to guide you right now; only desire and lust. “I want you to fuck me, Tom. Hard. Harder than you’ve ever fucked anybody before.”

“Not quite what I was looking for, but I’ll get you there.”

Tom doesn’t hesitate to wrap his hand completely around your neck while crashing his lips to yours. They mush together so sloppily, you could barely call it a kiss. But, damn, did it feel good. Fire and passion laced your lips, and it was so intoxicating that you thought you would overdose on his euphoria. Your mind couldn’t even react properly while your body was going haywire. One of your hands snaked up to the nape of his neck while the other was squeezing his naked bicep tightly.

The proximity of your bodies was about to make you pass out from a heat stroke.

In the misty moment, he leads you towards the bed. If you’d known better, you would have pushed him and told him to fuck off because he would not get to sleep with you. But you didn’t know better. Matter of fact, the only thing you knew right now was Tom Tom Tom.

When your knees hit the edge of the mattress, your body goes tumbling backwards, causing your heart to race even more than it had been. You break the kiss in a gasp, but Tom doesn’t let you fall too far, holding you securely with one hand on your waist and the other on your neck.

“Already falling for me. It’s a bit soon, yeah?” Tom flirts condescendingly with a single chuckle, standing on the edge after dropping you onto the bed. Good, you thought. You didn’t want delicacy anymore. You wanted roughness. You couldn’t allow yourself to be sweet and intimate with Tom. Not if you didn’t want to fall in love with him or get attached.

Not that that was possible.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m trying to, princess,” Even with the insult, his smirk lingers on like a tattoo. Although you despise that ridiculous nickname, your body didn’t care. When the word rolled off his tongue, your stomach erupted in needy desire and your cunt clenched around nothing. Tom isn’t new to a woman’s arousal. He knows when someone is turned on. It appears in their voice, their body obviously, but always in their eyes. And that lust was laced within you: in your voice, body, and eyes.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he taunts, hovering over your trembling body while your mind still tries to come to terms with what the fuck is happening.

“Of course not,” You grumble, but it comes out all quiet.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that. Maybe you’ll be surprised,” he infamously winks before traveling down your neck in harsh kisses. You try to withhold the whimpers he’s causing because it's impossible with the amount of pleasure you’re feeling.

Kneeling on both sides of you, Tom’s hands weave their way under your top, exploring your torso mindlessly. His palms are heavy and rough, the only type you wanted to feel when it came to him. You were wearing a simple bralette that you would feel his fingers trace over impatiently.

“Take it off,” You moaned when he nimbled a bit hard behind your ear. You felt him breathe a chuckle, and you just knew he was smirking. As per usual.

“That’s not very nice,” Tom tsks, halting all his movements and hovering over your flushed face. You were in a daze and he hasn’t even done anything yet. Your core was on fire waiting desperately to be taken care of by the so-called “sex god.”

“I didn’t want it to be,” Grumbling, you grind on your teeth again in impatience. “This was a mistake–”

In complete irritation, despite your body’s desires, you force yourself to sit up. However, Tom does not let that slide. Within seconds your arms are being pinned above your head and he is straddling your hips snuggly. There was no escaping him.

In this position, you could feel his bulge barely pressing against your lower tummy. The thickness nearly made you moan because you were so desperate for it, but God knows you would never get on your knees and beg for it. That’s the last thing you’ll ever do, especially for someone like Tom.

“Slow down there, princess. We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already trying to do the walk of shame.”

“Because you’re being an asshole!”

“I just wanted you to say please, princess,” Tom says innocently, but the most devilish smile rises upon his lips. It’s cruel how contradicting the two are, but you loved it. It spiraled you on even more. “Now, I don’t really care what you say.”

Following his word, Tom didn’t listen to a single word you said. Even though they only consisted of calling him a dickhead, asshole, and fucker, but that’s not the point. Before you know it, your clothes are stripped completely from you and you’re basically in the same predicament as Tom. He clips off your bralette and hastily rips it from your body, tossing it to some unknown place on his surprisingly well-kept floor.

Your breath hinges at the new vulnerability. Tom licks his lips lustfully at the sight of your near-naked body, but doesn’t say anything. No two-cented comment or some witted joke. Nope. Nothing. Something inside of you tingled.

His aggressive hands roughly massaged your breasts. He twisted and flicked your nipples with no care in the world, and that’s just how you liked it. You released a breathy moan when your nipples reached their peak, but he didn’t stop his miniature torture. Mindlessly, you bucked your hips up, right into him.

“Getting off just from some nipple play? God, you must be desperate,” Tom dryly chuckles.

“Shut up,” You groan when his mouth latches onto your raw nipple, intensifying the pain and pleasure that’s firing up in your body.

Tom’s wandering tongue finally makes it down to your underwear, which is soaked through with your arousal. You’re embarrassed to discover his reaction because you know it’s only going to make him even more air-headed than he already is. Your legs are tightly closed, but you widen them just a tad more. Tom isn’t having it.

“Open. I want to see what I do to you.”

You swear your heart skipped a beat because you nearly fucking died right there. Annoyingly obeying him, you open your legs more, giving him more access to your vulnerability. Also, giving him more ammunition to use to make fun of you. You knew for a fact that you would regret all of this in the future, but right now, for some fucking reason, you didn’t give a damn.

“Fuck,” Tom growled so low that you almost didn’t hear him. His face was now so close to you that you could practically feel his grumble vibrate through your thighs and straight to your cunt. “This is what I do to you? This whole time? And you’ve been running away…how selfish of you. To keep this from me.”

“I’m selfish? You are definitely the last person that’s–” The power of your words are cut short when he slides down your panties without hesitation. “–able to say that.”

“How about you stop saying stuff and let me get on with it?”

“Oh, please! Like I’m the one that’s stopping you.”

“Look who learned how to say please,” he smirks, hands prying open your thighs even wider than before. You inhale sharply as your cunt opens completely for him, dripping in your arousal. “Now, shut the fuck up unless you’re crying my name. Got it, princess?”

In the midst of an eyeroll, Tom places his mouth onto your clit. Places might be the wrong word. He latched his mouth hungrily onto you, like he would starve if he didn’t have you right now. Your eyes squeeze shut in shock, trying to decipher the incredible feeling of his mouth on you. Slurping and licking, Tom devours you whole and you can’t stop your body from squirming all over the place from the overwhelming euphoria.

To make you even more insane and to make you lose a bit more of your brain cells, Tom slyly slips one of his fingers in your cunt. It was undeniably soaking, so he slid it in easily. His pace is rigorous, thrusting in and out while sucking harshly on your clit.

Like Tom had requested, you were moaning. At first, it was just a few noises, but then, it turned into his name. The only word you seemed to know was Tom as you wailed and cried from his attack on your cunt. Even as your hips bucked into his face, he held you securely down with his forearm and continued to ram into you until you eventually came.

When you came, it was like you were hit by a freight train. Your orgasm slammed over you so powerfully that you saw stars for a moment. Oh, and you squirted, which you’ve never done before. Your wetness dripped down Tom’s face, and it was kind of funny to you, even if you felt a little bad about it (not really). But Tom had that tattooed-smirk on his face that let you know he was enjoying himself too much. Conceited as always.

“Didn’t know you were a squirter,” Tom wipes away your orgasm with his shower towel while your entire face goes hot again.

“Neither did I.”

“First time? What a pleasure.”

“Oh, shut up,” You roll your eyes, forgetting that he actually likes that. He smiles, but hides it with a smirk. Then Tom pulls down his tight briefs. Looking at his equipment, you nearly choked. It was thick and veiny, and the tip was an angry pink.

You wanted him inside of you, but if this was going to be the only time you do this, might as well get your fill.

“Actually,” You start, heart thumping rapidly. “Can I…”

You didn’t even really ask, you just slowly lowered yourself onto the floor. Tom didn’t stop you, just watched as you kneeled. Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his cock, waiting for him to terminate your movements.

“I’d never say no to a blowjob, princess.”

Rolling your eyes, your warm fingertips rub over his leaking slit. He hisses at the sudden contact, but moans gutturally when your tongue touches him. You lick up his shaft, soaking the entire surface with your saliva. Tom’s hefty hands find themselves tangled in your hair, using it for balance.

Once you take him deeper into your mouth, the urge to pump himself down your throat gets tougher. You hollow out your cheeks, slurping up and down until your face is burning. With confidence, you push him lower down your throat until you gag around his length.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groans, his sounds echoing on his blue walls. His stomach contracts, abs tensing as he senses his high approaching.

A few tears twinkle in your eyes, and to kill Tom even more, you decide to stare up at him through your lashes. Your expression appears innocent, but he knows you’re anything but with the way you’re taking his cock amazingly.

When Tom can’t restrain himself anymore, his hips start bucking into your face. He feels you moan against him even if he caught you off guard, sending a wave of vibration through his whole body euphorically. His grip on your hair tightens while the tears that were brimming your eyes start to fall down like a waterfall.

The picture of you crying while his cock was shoved down your throat was enough to get him off through the rest of college. Maybe even the rest of his 20s. You wanted it rough, and you took him like a champ.

With your fingernails digging into his thighs, Tom was sure to come soon. And in the next few moments, he did. He was so blindsided that he didn’t warn you, didn’t tell you to get off of him so you didn’t choke on his cum. But then, you swallowed him without any hesitation.

Tom was nearly hard again because of it.

His remaining orgasm leaked from the corners of your lips, which you wiped away with the towel on the bed. Tom was trying to not appear dumbstruck while you were trying to rid the tears from your face, even though you were almost positive that Tom got off on them.

You had done a lot of blowjobs and deepthroating throughout your college years because again, men aren’t too nice or generous. You just so happen to be both.

As you stand up from the ground, Tom doesn’t wait to push you onto the mattress again.

“That was…” he starts before groaning quietly. Was he reliving it? “I need to be deep inside of your cunt.”

You blinked at the suddenness of his words. He couldn’t give you a single compliment? At this point, you weren’t going to waste anymore time fighting about it. Looking at his cock, he was basically hard again. That seemed like a compliment in itself. His angry tip and thick veins looked like if he knew how to use his dick, it could potentially destroy you. Isn’t that what you wanted, though?

Hell yes.

“Get on with it then,” You pressed, trying to widen your legs a bit more. After your first orgasm and Tom’s, you’re not as shaky as you’d been in the beginning. You got some of your wits back.

“Impatient much? Didn’t the palace ever teach you manners?” Tom jokes with a knowing smirk before hovering over you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes irritatingly at his extra comment. His cock thumped over your clit a few times, causing you to gasp at the weighted feeling. You didn’t even know he had put a condom on, but the texture of his cock felt like latex, so you assumed.

Even though you told him to get on with it, he doesn’t. Tom’s lips kiss and bite your neck while he continuously slaps your clit with his heavy cock. Whimpers elicited from your mouth at the friction; it wasn’t a lot, but you were still sensitive from your last orgasm. Every time his dick hit the hood of your clit, shots of electricity fired inside of you.

“T-Tom!” You shouted annoyed, attempting to get his attention. But of course, your voice came out as a wavering moan and you saw his ego fly into the sky like a rocket. You can never win, can you? “Can you just fuck me already? What’s with all the foreplay?”

“Can you just shut the fuck up?” Tom stops all of his movements and grasps your throat in his hand. You glare into his blackened-eyes with an angered lust that he’s never seen before. But he likes it. He really likes it. “I’ll fuck you. Yeah, and I’ll keep fucking you until I’m done.”

His last words come out as a growl, one that was so primal and aggressive, you couldn’t stop the arousal that leaked from you. Finally, Tom pushes himself inside of you with no mercy.

Tom’s fingers are still wrapped around your throat, his pressure on and off so you get a millisecond to breathe. His cock slams into you at a meticulous and quick pace. Even with the condom on, you can feel every inch of his length sliding through you like it was raw.

You couldn’t even imagine how good it would feel if it was raw.

With no warning, Tom begins to flick his hips up into you. A broken croak elicits from your trapped throat while your cunt squeezes his cock harshly.

“Fuckin’ love this, aren’t you? Love how I fuck you? Love how I talk to you like you’re nothing?” His voice is guttural and low, laced with lust and degradation. “You’re just a hole f’me. A hole so fucking tight I can barely get my big cock through.”

You hate how egotistical he is, but your core is still on fire with every one of his words. He releases pressure on your throat for a bit longer, and you cry out in moans. His now free hand gropes your breast, slapping and twisting the nipple without care. Your back arched so aggressively, you thought you might cramp up.

Tom rammed into you like there was no tomorrow. His balls slammed against you while his light pubic hair tickled your clit and gave you just a bit more stimulation. Everything was making you float. Your body was just taking everything he was giving you and you were loving it. All the other times you’ve had sex they were gentle and sweet, but now, you’ve realized that it was just boring.

Tom somehow manages to curve his cock inside of you in such a way that it hits you in the perfect spot. A scream of his name flies out of your mouth before you clench snuggly around his shaft again. His name is the only thing your lips know.

“Daddy! Fuck,” You gasp at your own words, the title just slipping out. Your hand covers your mouth in a haste, shutting yourself up before you say anything else. Your eyes screw shut in embarrassment, hoping he didn’t hear you. But it was hard not to when you fucking screamed it. The neighbors probably heard you.

When you got too deep into it, you tended to say things like that. However, you’re usually able to compose yourself before you let it slip. But the way Tom is absolutely destroying you gives you no time to think, no time to do anything but feel.

“Of course, you’re fucking filthy. If I knew you were such a slut, I would’ve made you beg for my cock,” Tom growls in your neck, pounding into you with no remorse. Your mind is in a haze and your body is still on fire from embarrassment and passion. You tried your hardest to hold in your moans after satisfying him with that title, but Tom won’t let you.

He rips your hand away from your mouth, and for leverage, you instantly grip onto his shoulders. With each hostile thrust, your nails dig deeper into his skin, creating red curves all over him. Somewhere inside of you felt a sense of pride because you know that there will be marks later on. Is this what Tom feels like all the time?

Your cunt clutches his dick again, but this time your orgasm is near. Your hand travels down in between you two to rub your clit, but Tom beats you to it. His rough fingertips violently circle the little nub, sending your eyes rolling backwards. When you feel his pace slowing just a tad, you assume that he’s just as close.

“Daddy,” You mewl, scratching his arm as your hips thrust up towards his. Yeah, you were pretty deep.

But so was he.

“Know you’re close, baby. Feel you squeezin’ m’cock,” Tom grumbles gravely in your ear, and his voice sends a tingle down your arched spine. Although it was rough and raggedy, it was the softest he’s been to you all night. “Come, right fucking now, princess.”

Yeah, you might despise him outside of the bedroom, and maybe a little bit in it, but who are you to disobey such a thing?

Your entire body tenses and your heart stops. You don’t even feel yourself breathing as your orgasm washes over you like a never-ending tsunami. Your brain is overwhelmingly fuzzy, your breasts are sore, and your cunt is aching from all it. But you loved every bit of it. It was something you didn’t know you wanted, but when you got it, it changed your views and feelings on everything.

Sliding in and out of you slickly, Tom comes soon after you with a string of profanities falling from his pretty lips. Even if he was conceited, he was a striking man. His body was hand-crafted by God in addition to going to the gym every day. When his muscles contracted over you, you couldn’t stop fawning over him. And his face was remarkable, it was unfair how someone could be given so many good social-standard genes. You wished you could say it was all a rumor. But it was hard to insult his looks when everything he gloated about was true. It was just annoying that he was aware of it.

Funny, right?

“Y/N,” Tom repeated your name over you, hoping you would wake up in the present moment. You were clearly in your head and Tom was a little concerned to say the least. Maybe he sleeps with a bunch of different women and maybe he’s arrogant, but that doesn’t mean he’s heartless.

Blinking several times, you snap out of whatever mindless daze you’ve been in. He’d already thrown away the condom and put on some boxers, not briefs. He gently wiped any excess orgasm away with his towel, your body subtly squirming from the stimulation. When Tom finally sees you coming to your senses, he slowly leans away from you, assuming you want space.

“Wait,” You find yourself saying without knowing what you want him to wait for. When his body rose from yours, you felt cold. It was so uncomforting, knowing that you’ve been so warm this entire time. Tom stares down at your naked body and watches goosebumps fan your skin. Your nipples pebble and stomach contracts. You feel so vulnerable.

“What?” Tom asks a little breathily, one arm holding himself up for balance. He couldn’t really say anything else. For the first time in a while, he’s completely starstruck by you. Your bare figure with your lion-like frizz of hair on his bed, tangled in his blue sheets is a sight he’ll never unsee. He honestly thinks he needs a moment to collect himself before staring at your beauty again.

Have you always been this beautiful?

“It’s…cold.”

“Now, it’s cold? I’m not the weatherman, princess,” Tom smiles like a child with a slight tilt. Your eyes roll like usual, but a smile is tugging at your lips this time. “Maybe you should put some clothes on.”

“Maybe you should shut up,” You retaliate, pushing yourself up. You’re face to face with Tom, merely inches away from each other.

“I love when you fight me,” he compliments, moving his head in little shakes like he adores you. Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

“Why? Because I put you in your place?”

“Something like that,” Tom sits next to you on the bed while you wrap yourself in his sheets. You really didn’t feel like wandering around the entire room completely naked with his eyes watching you. “Also, what were you looking for earlier? I know it wasn’t a gun.”

That familiar wave of heat flushes your skin and your mouth gets all dry. Are you sweating?

“Pfft, I don’t even remember. Must have slipped my mind,” Out of all the things you could have said, you decided to act stupid. Good going.

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad. I’ve probably heard worse,” Your wide eyes meet his, full of embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m assuming it’s some rumor thing you heard, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Tell me.” You’ve already had sex with him, and that’s the lowest you could go. So, it can’t be worse than that.

“I was looking for the list.”

“Not even a list but the list? Must be some pretty special list,” he smirks with an arrogant lick of his lips. One of your hands rubs your arm for comfort while you explain the entirety of what you’ve heard. It took a few minutes, but Tom was listening to every word. He nodded along with a sly smirk on his lips.

“So, it’s a list of all the people I want to sleep with. Is this list in order?” Out of all the questions he could have asked, that’s what he said? Maybe he is completely conceited.

“I guess so. I assumed you could rearrange it if you’d like.”

“Are the women rated?”

“What? That’s disgusting!” Physically writing down how well someone was at sex was pathetic to you. But the curious cat in your mind was wondering one thing:

What would Tom rate you?

“Well, if I had a list, you’d probably be near the top.”

There is no fucking way you said that out loud.

“You did, though,” Tom laughs while your fists clench his sheets embarrassingly. You fall backwards onto the mattress, covering your face with the bedding.

Why are you still in his room? Why have you not felt the urge to flee yet?

Your skin was burning from embarrassment and your heart was beating sporadically, but your breathing was steady and your mind was decently clear. So, why were you still lying in Tom Holland’s bed naked without a single thought of leaving? Did you…like it?

Or maybe because you have no way home and what’s the rush?

“Hey,” Tom says while you’re still beneath the covers. “Are you still cold?”

“Yes,” You mumble quietly.

“Do you…want to take a bath? Or a shower if that’s weird–” Your head slowly peeks out from the navy blue, finding Tom’s wandering eyes. His large hand was scratching the back of his curly head. A single tingle shot through your body, making you a degree warmer. It was the first time you’ve seen him even a little bit unsure of himself, and that made you smile. Just a tad because it let you know that maybe you’ve made him snap out of whatever bubble he lives in. Even just for a moment.

Discarding the sheet, you sit up on your knees at the edge of the bed. Like before, you’re face to face with Tom, and you can see the struggle in his eyes to not look down at your bare breasts. It nearly makes you break out into a fit of laughter, but you carry on.

“I’ll go with the bath,” You whisper seductively and don’t hide the way you stare down at his pink lips. You couldn’t help it. They just look so kissable.

What is wrong with you!

“I’ll, uh, leave you to it then,” Tom coughs awkwardly. He’s never been like this before. He’s good with the flirting, seducing, foreplay, sex, and even the aftermath of leaving right after. But the second it even gets remotely romantic or intimate, he shuts it down quickly before anything else can happen. Though right now, he’s the one who made it sweet and offered you a bath. A bath is cute and domestic, which is so unlike Tom. He would have never offered something like that before, especially with no one home. He should’ve just kicked you out.

What’s different?

“Oh,” You look at the floor in pretend disappointment. Just to note, you’re still completely naked, standing in front of his bathroom door. You’re so glad he has his own bathroom. “You don’t want to join me?”

Tom blinks, wondering if you’re being serious. He never thought you out of all people would want to have sex in the bathtub, let alone with him. He swallows, trying to keep his cool.

“Yeah, obviously, I was just letting you get a headstart,” Tom rapidly removes his boxers while you strut into the bathroom, shaking your ass in your trail. Streaks of curses leave his mouth while he slams the door closed, not forgetting to lock it.

For the record, the rumor was true; Tom did have a list. It was in a spot he knew no one would check; his textbooks in his desk drawer. A single sheet of paper that has a list of the girls he’s been with and the ones he wants to be with. It’s crazy how such a rumor was developed when no one knew about the list except for himself.

Yes, it was listed in order and he reorganized it whenever he needed to. That’s what erasers are for. He writes it in pencil because nothing is set in stone. It’s honestly hard for him to remember who’s in his top five right now. Yeah, Tom sounds like a complete douchebag, but he didn’t really care.

Tom said that your name would be “near the top” if he had a list. What a liar he is.

Ever since he met you, you’ve been the first on his list. You’re the only name that hasn’t been erased since he wrote it his junior year. Also, you’re the only person who has a little note on the side of her name:

1. Y/N Y/L/N -The one

Tom had a feeling that he won’t have to write any names down, or even need the paper anymore. Even if he never had a list to begin with, he would have never needed one to remember you.

—

i hope you guys liked this i worked hard!! likes, comments, and reblogs are all appreciated <3

taglist: @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3

crossed out= not able to tag

[lovelylibrarian]

What am I thinking? 

Stream of thought consciousness into the inside wrinkles of my brain folds. This gif is terrible, and yet, I find something about it quite lovely. Brain slices.

A video series where people have to go out and do specific tasks, and accomplish them however they like. Then, they report back on their experiences (like taskmaster, it they aren’t brain teaser type tasks…they are vague to provide ample room for improv and interpretation). For example…Go build a house. My brain went to card house, but I bet other people probably thought of a cardboard house, or like…helping people with habitat for humanity or something a lot nicer than what I thought.

Do I hate my job? Or does working just blow?

Is being a librarian like…a noble career? It feels noble when I think about the whole ‘freedom fighter’ thing, but usually I just help people print of shipping labels and tax forms. So glad I have a masters degree for this. Even as an Academic Library Director in a small school, I feel most of the time I am just helping people save documents as a PDF.

Did you know you can print to PDF, and that is a great way to save items you have online? Most 18-20 year olds don’t know about this invention.

While I’m on it, site searches on google can save you so much time! It’s so simple to search a subject through google, but limit to 1 specific website, or a specific type of website. Just type this into google: Site:nytimes.org (or whatever we address you want) and then your subject you want to search. (For example site:nasa.gov Mars) it will save you SO MUCH TIME! Then if you want you can do just the type (ex: site:.gov Mars) and then it would search only .gov websites for you info!

Yay for digital and information literacy!

Am I super into queer pirate content now? I feel like I might be. BlackBonnet 4 lyfe.

As of right now I think everyone should watch Welcome to Flatch. It might just be the comedic touchstone of our generation.

It’s directed by Paul Feig whom I have loved since he was the science teacher on Sabrina. Also, Freaks and Geeks? Are you kidding me? Incredible.

I also just learned that it is remake of a BBC show This Country which features the incredibly hilarious Daisy May Cooper. I suggest you watch both.

I think that’s it. Or at least that is enough for today. Thanks Tumblr for being a dumping ground for our thoughts and feelings.

Peace,

[theglasscat]

Dark Crytal/Age of Resistance Human/High School AU

HEAR ME OUT Thorn Hill Ridge Academy (THRA) 

PTA moms:

Mayrin Vapra (PTA head, connections to the School Board)

Fara Stonewood

Argot Grot (Deet’s grandma)

Laesid Drenchen (a doctor)

Mera Spriton (Kylan’s aunt)

Seethi Dousan

Ethri Sifa (teen mom who thinks she needs to go to these meetings as she’s a parent now)

Ordon is a cop doing a teen outreach program or a school security guard, haven’t decided which The kids:

The Vapra Sisters: 

Seladon- Prep, senior, class president, debate team, preparing to be valedictorian, secretly enjoys metal

Tavra- Prep/jock, junior, on several sports teams, skater by day but still gets top grades, has a secret girlfriend, hangs out with different kids at school than her home life suggests

Brea- Prep/nerd, freshman, excited to be at school and spend her time reading books her reading level, makes friends with the librarian.

Ordon’s Son:

Rian- Oldest of three. Jock. Junior. On several sports teams.  Expected to go into army after and then be a cop like his father. Would rather just make out with people and go to college. Goes out with Mira when she’s not going out with Gurjin. Best friend is Gurjin.  They are NOT gay, they only kissed two times and he’s only touched his dick once!  They’re just really close friends man! Probably the best friends in the whole world, man! It’s not wrong to love your best friend!

Mira- Jock. Junior. On several sports teams.  Slacks at school but it’s fine cause she’s going to join the army anyway.  Family has higher expectations of her.  Can’t decide if she should go out with Rian or Gurjin and the social drama she brings so she can date both (but never at the same time that would be, like, mean) is legendary.

The Drenchen Siblings:

Naia- Junior. Jock. On the swim team. Parents want her to go to medical school, twin sister to Gurjin. Best friends since elementary with Kylan.

Gurjin- Junior. Jock. On all the sports teams as Rian. Parents want him to attend police academy after graduation and he is considering it but he might want to go to college too. Goes out with Mira when Rian isn’t. Best bros with Rian and bro it’s not gay to cherish your best friend and think he’s hot and kiss him when you’re alone right? They’re just bros.

Two younger sisters in middle school.

The Sifa Family is a large family with lots of cousins and second cousins and siblings.  They include:

Onica- Junior. Tavra’s secret girlfriend. Skater. Sometimes stoner. Likes to read tarot cards and palms. Witch-core af.

Tae- Junior. Jock. Onica’s best friend. On same sports teams as Tavra. Believes in Onica’s prophecies.

Ethri- Senior. Had a baby with Staya and now she’s a parent? Which is why she’s too busy for school work so why don’t teachers understand that? And isn’t the PTA supposed to be like, so Parents and Teachers can talk to each other? Not like, these weird conversations with these judgy moms?

Staya- Unrelated but Ethri’s baby daddy. 18 year old drop out who has a van.

Freshly transferred to the school is:

Deet- Sophmore.  Homeschooled/”Unschooled” by her two dads on a farm on edge of town until recently.  Very bright so it wasn’t just her Grandma being a teacher and on the PTA that got her in.  Would love to make some new friends because she really likes talking to people, but doesn’t get why everyone needs to split up into cliques and be so mean to one another.  Makes friends with the janitor.

There is also: 

Kylan: Junior. Band geek. Naia’s best friend since elementary school.  Really into comic books and drawing potential covers for his potential folk metal band’s first album, that is if he can gather enough people who know what folk metal is first.

Amri: Junior. Not trying to be in any clique.  Deet’s cousin. Wants to be a doctor like Naia but a homeopathic one and because of this they butt heads in science class a lot.

Staff

Principal: Aughra

At least one of the teachers is: Argot

Teachers: Mystics (Mr. Su, Mr. Sol Mr. Swim Coach San, Archery Coach Va, etc.)

The janitor: Hup  

School Board Committee:

The Skeksis: Seemingly ancient and wealthy patrons of the school but are *record scratch* still aliens. Still sucking the souls out of teens. One day Rian is skipping practice to makeout with MIra but she’s not there to meet him at their usual spot and when he sees her going somewhere else he follows her to the detention room, which is fair enough, she probably just didn’t have the chance to tell him she had detention, until he peeks through the window (you know the sort with criss cross over the glass) and sees the members of the board sucking out Mira’s soul. Now it’s up to Rian to convince his fellow students and their parents to what the board is up to.  But with everyone separated into different cliques and family ties, how will they ever unite to save themselves and their school?

The Garthim: Security guards approved by the board to quell the rumors that are spreading around the school.  Actually robots.

Years later:

Jen is a teenager living on the edge of a big empty town.  One day he finds out his math tutor being put into an ambulance and on his dying breath tells Jen to go to Aughra and get the key to the old abandoned high school to save the world.  Aughra gives him the key and Jen goes poking around the abandoned high school.

There he meets Kira, a girl his age, and her dog, Fizzgizz who explore the building with him.  Together they escape the clutches of the barely hanging in there school board and their still operating robot security guards.  The key Aughra gave Jen was also the key to the spaceship that is also the central campus building.  The remaining Mystic teachers and their school board counterparts fuse and thank Jen and Kira for helping them and then activate their spaceship home.  Jen and Kira run out of the campus and watch the school blast off into space from the overgrown football field.

Roll credits

[spn-destiel-enthusiast]

Tutoring Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

After science class lets out, dean heads to his locker to grab his next round of books he’ll need after his study halls and lunch.

When Dean turns the corner he sees Castiel leaning against his locker. He takes a deep breath and approaches him.

“You know, for someone who is popular around here, you sure like hanging around the non populars locker.” He says standing behind Castiel.

Castiel turns around and frowns at him, “I wouldn’t say I’m popular. Just like I wouldn’t say your unpopular.”

Dean snorts and walks around Cas to get to his locker. He turns his combination, 35-18-0 and it pops open.

He unzips his backpack and pulls out his math and science book and shoves them in his locker and pulls out his English, history, and his band folder, that has all his sheet music in.

Castiel rolls his eyes, “I’ve never pegged you to be a band geek.”

Dean zips his backpack up and slams his locker shut, “Listen, I agreed to help you. But I didn’t sign up for your smartass remarks. Keep it up, and you won’t pass your classes.” He crosses his arms.

Castiel runs his hands through his hair and down his face, “I’m sorry. That was, uncalled for. It won’t happen again.” He says sincerely.

Dean nods and the bell rings, “Come on. I have study hall with Mr. D.” He says heading down the hall.

Castiel matches his stride and keeps up with dean, “Will he let me in his study hall?” He asks.

Dean shrugs, “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter, I’m going to ask him if we can study in the library.”

Castiel nods and is quite the rest of the way to Mr. D’s room.

When they approach room 312C, dean asks Castiel to wait outside, he does not putting up a fight.

Thirty seconds later Dean exits the room with two pink slips.

He hands one to Cas, “Mr. D is going to email your study hall teacher and tell her you will be studying in the library for the next two periods.”

“Thanks.” Cas says, dean nods and they had towards the library.

When they get to the library they flash their passes to the librarian and heads to a table in the back room.

No one is in the room and they both sigh in relief.

Dean takes a seat and Castiel takes a seat across from him.

“Alright, what do you want to work on first?” Dean asks unzipping his backpack, and pulling out a notebook and two pens and pencils.

Castiel shrugs, “Maybe math?” He asks.

Dean nods, “What math class are you in?” He asks, trying to read Castiel’s face.

“Calculus.” He says.

Dean smiles, “Me too. Who’s your teacher?”

“Miss. MacLeod.” He answers.

“That makes this a hundred times easier, I have her as well. First period. So we can go over last nights homework and then a few of the lessons from today.” He says.

Castiel nods and pulls out his homework. They get to work instantly and buy the end of study hall, Castiel actually understand Calculus.

“Cas, you did great. I think you’ll be fine in class today.” Dean says, closing his notebook and shoving it in his backpack.

Castiel smiles, “Thanks. You explain it so much easier.”

Dean blushes, “You’re welcome. Well, since we don’t have any more study halls after lunch, when would you like to meet up?” He asks.

Castiel thinks on it for a minute and then answers, “Well I have football practice after school today, so maybe tomorrow after school?” He asks.

Dean nods, “If I don’t have band practice, that works.”

Castiel nods, “Um, maybe we should exchange phone numbers?” He suggests.

“Right! Yeah, that’s smart.” He pulls his phone out and unlocks it. He creates a new contact and hands phone to Cas.

Cas punches his number in and hands the phone back to Cas.

“I’ll text you right now.” Dean says typing out a message.

Cas’s phone buzzes in his jeans pocket and he pulls it out.

There’s numerous messages, but Deans message is at the top, it reads: Psssst, hi with a hand waving emoji.

Cas smiles and opens the message and saves Deans number.

The bell rings and they both stand up. They exit the library and go to part ways.

“Thanks again dean. Uh, I’ll text you.” He says with a wink.

Dean nods and watches Cas walk away.

He groans and heads down the steps to his history class.

If he keeps winking at me like that, I don’t think I’ll be able to survive the next two months.

Before Dean enters the classroom for history, his phone buzzes and he pulls it out.

There’s a unread text message from Cas.

I know it’s only been five minutes. But I kind of miss hanging out with you already.

The typing bubbles pop up and another message from Cas comes through

I’m sorry. I seem like some needy asshole.

Dean chuckles and goes to type back, but the typing bubbles pop up again and he stops, waiting for Castiel to send his next message.

I just don’t have very many friends. That’s even if you are my friend..

Dean feels bad for Cas and starts typing out his message. Once he reviews it he hits send.

You’re not a needy asshole. I know that feeling though. But sure, we’re friends. As long as you promise not to make fun of me.

The bubble pops up again and so does a new message.

I’m sorry, Dean. I won’t do it again.

Dean smiles and sends him the emoji that sticks it’s tongue out and pockets his phone.

Maybe the next two months won’t be so bad afterall.

Tagging: @ohparis @casafrass @bellatheskeleton @bslove17 @super-powerful-queen-slayyna @alwaysbringabananatoapartyrose @vixyrules @bookish711 @supernaturally-obsessive @samismybae @kearzdhyn @rae0899 @starnatural0667 @supernaturaltakeover @daniebr97 @thelibrarianjesser @olvidaminombrebye @severelypsychotic @krazyperson @freedomcraziness @destielsangel

If I missed anyone, please let me know. If you wish to be added to the tag list also let me know :)

[olicitysmoaky]

“Look at Me” -- Rated G

Part of the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon by @thebookjumper whom I recently love and adore. This is my first submission. 

Week 2 Prompt: Eye Contact

Fluuuuuuff Alert!  

Summary: Shy version of Felicity is No-Island Oliver's tutor over the summer in this college AU fic set in Boston. 

You may also read this at AO3

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Felicity Smoak may have been a lot of things: a genius, a straight-A student, a surprisingly well-balanced daughter from a broken home and of an overly flirtatious cocktail waitress who wore dresses that some thought might be better suited for a different line of work. Felicity was a good girl, but for all of that goodness came something else, too. It could be spelled out in one simple word really: awkward.

It was the end of junior year at MIT, and Felicity was the ripe old age of eighteen. She‘d mastered the art of pretending she was comfortable in situations she wasn’t, but she had a feeling there was more to it than just having to pretend. She knew that she could learn to feel more at ease with people. And to Felicity what it all boiled down to was eye contact. She’d gotten good at making herself make eye contact in a general sense, but boy did she hate doing it when it came to three types of people: extremely self-assured popular kids, rich people, and really hot guys. Unfortunately for her, Oliver Queen was all three. And this year, Felicity had taken a summer job tutoring the 23-year-old Harvard super senior so she could stay in Boston and take extra classes to graduate early.

It was their fifth lesson, and instead of their usual spot in the library, Oliver suggested they meet at his favorite cafe. She expected a run-of-the-mill coffee shop but was surprised to walk into a space with amazing art work hanging on every wall dotted with warm lights filling the room from the ceiling. Hair pulled back in her typical long blonde ponytail, Felicity found far too gorgeous for his own good Oliver sipping from a big green mug at one of the back tables.

When he spotted her, he waved her over. Felicity, who was wearing the new yellow sundress she’d convinced herself she was buying because she needed new summer clothes, started toward him. She smoothed down the flared skirt. The new purchase had nothing to do with the fact that she’d only decided to go shopping after Oliver had asked her to meet her elsewhere for their tutoring session yesterday.

He wore a navy blue Henley and jeans. She would say it made him look particularly sexy, but pretty much anything he wore did that, so... “I hope you don’t mind meeting here,” Oliver said, standing up and holding her chair out her. The gesture made her breath catch. She realized that no one in her life had ever held out a chair for her before. It took her by surprise and made her blush. “I’m also sorry I ordered coffee before you got here. Long day. Would you like something? It’s on me, of course.” He sat down, hands folded on the table, his closed international economics text book on the surface beside him as if only a fixture.

Felicity blinked, blushing as her blue eyes slid up to his for the first time since she’d arrived. She tried not to overly blink and look away. She hated when she did that, but it was so damn hard not to when he was staring at her with that face of his. The damn smirk, the perfect stubbly jaw. Why was the world so damn cruel?

“Felicity?”

“Oh, um, no…it’s okay. You don’t have to. I mean I know it’s like nothing to you money-wise to pay for something like a simple meal, but…I really need to consider what I am about to say it before I say it sometimes. I didn’t mean to sound like I’d be ungrateful, but…”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, smiling softly. He was trying to kill her now. There was no way she could keep looking him in the eye and not melt into the chair as she slowly died of utter humiliation.

“I’ll have a chai tea and a tuna sandwich – wait, I shouldn't get tuna. It’s…” She stopped herself from saying it would be too smelly. But it was her favorite. “I’ll have a bagel and homemade cream cheese instead.”

“You’re in for a treat,” said Oliver. “They make the bagels themselves here, too.”

Felicity looked up at him. “Really? I love when places do homemade things. It’s always so…homey.” She smiled. To her surprise, she held his eyes for more than half a second…and she’d survived. In fact, it sort of felt good. Oliver got up, placed their orders, paid, then set a number on their table: 6.

Felicity smiled. She felt good. Clear. She was hanging out with her client turned possible friend. All was well. “So," she started, "Do you want to eat first then study or…” Then Oliver had to ruin the whole damn she was nearly relaxed thing by suddenly reaching across the table and touching the sides of her glasses with his index fingers. He caressed the edges with them!  Felicity’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t moved. Forget looking away, now her eyes seemed glued to his. What the hell was he doing? Trying to kill her. That was the answer.

“Can you see up close without them?” he wondered quietly.

“Yes, it’s just far away that I can’t… I know they make me look like a geek.”

“I was thinking more like sexy but adorable librarian-in-training.”

“In training?” She cleared her throat; he still had not dropped his hands.

“Yeah, you’re only what? 19?” he asked, his soft voice doing something to her insides she really needed to get a hold of. Control, Felicity. You're a big girl.

“Will be in August.”

“May I…?” He gave her glasses a tug but did not move them further until she nodded her consent. Felicity just went ahead and gave herself a break from his intensity and snapped her eyes shut as he pulled her glasses off. Fraaaaaaack! It did not work because her other senses picked up. God, he smelled almost better than he looked. And his fingers brushed the base of her eyelids when he gripped the hinges to keep her glasses from falling. That sent sizzles from the little patches of skin he'd touched and washed them over the rest of her body. She would not sigh. She would not at all.

“Frack, huh?”

Felicity’s face burned. “Oh no. Really? I said that? Of course, I did.” She looked down at the table, then cleared her throat. “We should study. I mean, I should wear my glasses, but I don’t have to.”

Before the conversation could get any worse, their food arrived. Oliver ordered himself a health muffin because of course he would. But never mind about that. Oh God was this good. Felicity bit into the warm cream-cheese adorned bagel and moaned. She looked up as she heard Oliver’s sharp intake of breath. If she didn’t know better she’d say she’d caught him biting his lower lip for a second. “So, um, I guess we can study after we eat.”

Oliver licked his lips, eyes locked on her mouth. “You look good in cream cheese.”

Awkward as always. She sighed and licked her lips several times, trying to clear away any excess globbiness. “Gone?” He just kept staring at her mouth. Her belly warmed, and her chest tingled.  “Oliver.”

Her voice seemed to snap him out of his haze. “Yeah?”

She looked at him with a short giggle. “I thought I lost you.”

His eyes locked on hers and a full-grin spread across his lips. “There you are.”

“What?”

“I’ve just been wanting to see those eyes since the first night we met.”

Felicity frowned and tried really hard to not look away. “You’ve seen my eyes.”

“I’ve seen them, but this is… you know, contact.”

Felicity pressed her lips together and nodded.

“So, now that we’ve made contact,” he said, and for the first time Felicity noticed that Oliver seemed a bit nervous. “Would you…like to go out to dinner with me?”

Felicity looked around the café and gestured around. “This is kind of like dinner.”

“It’s a study date.”

“But it’s a date?”

“Well, no,” Oliver said, causing Felicity’s heart to drop. What had she been thinking? There was no way Oliver was interested in her. But he’d just asked her out to dinner…then denied being on a date with her.

“I just…It’s our tutoring time, and you’re still on the clock.”

Felicity reached over and pulled his text book to her. “Well, I was trying to get you to start studying. You’re the one with the bagels and the glasses and the lip-staring.” Oh, God. She really wanted to take that last one back, but she wouldn’t. He was clearly flirting. She held his gaze firm, strong.

Oliver sighed and dipped his head. Now he was avoiding eye contact. What was with them? “Oliver, we’re being really stupid.”

He laughed out loud. “You could never be stupid," he stated firmly, then seemed to sober as he mulled over what he wanted to say next. "It’s why…I want to take you out. I want to get to know you outside of just studying, and I was scared…I mean not scared, but you know. Do you want to go with me?”

“Wow. I’m the one who’s supposed to talk in sentence fragments.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“No. I want to. I do.”

“Great,” Oliver said, standing up to go after placing a tip on the table. “By the way, I got an A on my econ quiz thanks to you. Classes are canceled for the next week. I just wanted to see you today, look you in the eye and ask you in person.”

“Oh, Oliver. That’s…so sweet.”

Oliver scratched the back of his neck bashfully. God, she should have been looking at him more directly before. She might have seen the adorable nervous puppy in the muscle-bound form of Oliver Queen much earlier. She loved it. “Can I pick you up at your place tonight at eight?”

“Yes.”

Oliver grinned from ear to ear. Then before she knew what was happening, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. He stopped, still very close to study her eyes. She’d never noticed the different layers of blue in his. He reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking once, then twice. “See you tonight, Felicity.”  

Then he was gone. That was the afternoon Oliver Queen cured Felicity Smoak of her eye contact woes. That night, under the stars on a boat ride, he kissed her, and she couldn’t stop staring at him. She hoped he wouldn’t break her heart, but she trusted him – there was just something in his eyes. 

@miriam1779 @hope-for-olicity

[inhalareexhalare]

One-Dimensional Dissonance

Ms Reyna suggested that I could take improvement programs as a form of supplement to my self-improvement. And now that becomes fuel to my longstanding dilemma of hypocrisy, as follows:

Ohhhh. You know, I feel like a freaking hypocrite a lot of times. Like the fact that I want to become a psychologist, but I would probably not go see one if I needed one. I don't even go to counseling in school hahaha Just like that, I want to improve myself, but I wouldn't join an improvement program. I value my own freedom too highly hahaha

I guess one thing also is that improvement programs necessarily do have things figured out, in some way, so they have some form of formula on how to help you improve. But I want to find them all out on my own. I feel like it won't be the same if someone else gives me the answers... I think of psychiatrists and improvement programs as last resorts, so what does that say about my chosen vocation, psychology?

hmmmmmm. I am very clearly resistant to the idea, although I am not allergic to psychiatrists or psychologists, or life coaches (in fact, I think they’re awesome and I want to ask so many questions!)

Enrolling to any of them sort of feels like selling my soul to a church though. For me, it feels like, as I enter, a leash tightens around my neck.

HMMMMM.

This inner contradiction is so confusing.

In psychology by the way, this is called cognitive dissonance.

-

Here’s the deal. The truth is that I’m not a one-dimensional person who just either wants psychology or doesn’t.

The thing is, I also have trust issues, and am at the peak of discomfort when around strangers who suddenly are given permission to take charge of my life.

I’m not afraid of help, in fact I know I need it. I know that human beings are prone to twisting reality into what they find comfort in, and prefer to hide from the truth unconsciously. And as a writer and librarian in pursuit of truth, I dislike nothing more than that. 

Combine that fact with the trust issue above, ends up with me reaching out to close friends when I am troubled. They have helped me in many ways, although yes, I do believe these coaches and doctors would have a larger, bigger-picture-type of insight to my inner life.

-

What can I do about this?

All I can think of is:

(1) TRY counseling with a psychologist/psychiatrist or both at least once in my life=Gather insights.

(2) TRY teaming up with a life coach at least once in my life=Gather insights.

I don’t want to remain blind towards things I am afraid of. I need to see them up close so I can paint a better bigger picture of my wholeness.

Oh my God. This is actually a mission now. Sort of like a bucket list-ish self-dare.

Mission: Try undergoing psychological counseling and joining life coaching programs at least once

To Reyna:

Thanks sa prompt!!!! Imma try this new challenge

[Thanks for the prompt]

2019-03-01 09:00 Philippines Friday

Ms. Charree and the Dean Team accepted my invitation to lunch together by letting me accept their invitation to attend a Catholic mass.

Ms. Charree was surprised and was worried with my initiative, wondering if this is okay since I am technically a Christian, and she doesn't know if Christians are allowed  to go to other churches. I said it was fine hahaha

It was a heartwarming experience to be honest. They are very ceremonial in their ways but I see their love.

I love especially how Ms. Charree didn't teach me to hold hands in one of the ceremonies.

It's important not to do things without knowing their meaning.

Oh and also Dr. Seth was seated three rows before us. In "peace be with you," I looked for her eyes and ours met. She turned around as if in habit and then turned to look again, surprised to find me hahahah

We don't know who comes to this church more frequently than her. She knows who doesn't and and who does come. She smiled as I smiled my, probably, most sincere smile around her.

It's in our wordless interactions that I find meaning the most.

I felt unrestrained-ly happy because I felt her smile was warm. It was something human about her, outside of work.

I look forward to lunch.

2019-03-01 12:45 Philippines Friday

Lunch was also some radical change. Just kidding.

But it really was awesome. Ms. Bel has a lot of stories on things this workplace can improve on. The problem is that those who make the decisions rarely feel like improving.

Ms. Charree half-jokingly said that we all didn’t notice the time because I was too noisy hahaha partly true! I did initiate ideas here and there. I love asking questions.

On the way back to my office, I told Ms. Jun that people were just talking about her, as she opened the door to her office lol, and then I said hi to Ms. Len and she had this beautiful smile (we’re getting a lot closer online too!) and then Ms. Gi who noticed me and waved, and then Dr. Less (who if I have to be honest, would be my actual middle-aged man crush, but naw I just really look up to him and subjectively find him attractive even for his age. A low-key badass cool-headed man) and Dr. Lion who laughed with me regarding evidences that I am still waiting for them to snatch from a few lazy/indifferent faculty members.

When I got down, Hercules was here again and said hi to me, as he was speaking with Dianne. But you have to understand that my cubicle is an isolated one (I’m thinking faulty office design) so I impulsively said, “where are you?” and he chuckled at that and his tall frame peered in as I leaned backwards and we waved hellos and laughed.

OH WHY I am too blessed with these people. Had I not jumped the figurative cliff of my fears, I wouldn’t have get to actually know them and be interested in them. It’s not all rainbows and I do fail in social interactions. But these people make it all worth it.

2019-03-01 13:46 Philippines Friday

This is good, this is good.

This is good flow I'm having lately.

But "how do I keep it up"? Psh.

I don't.

I keep changing.

Focus!

2019-03-01 14:14 Philippines Friday

I met Karu and Divad, when I was on my way back from running errands. I was pleased to see them, Karu especially, but he said he won’t be going to the gig tonight, and he won’t even be coming home. 

That really made me feel bad. But you know what? 

I remembered what I just decided to do. My goal.

Keep changing. That instantly bring me to a clearer focus.

I didn’t ask him why, I just said goodbye.

I am less anxious than before. I didn’t need answers to calm down. The other big thing is that I readily accepted the fact that I did feel bad.

I do crave his company, and I would have loved to hear his new voice in his new flute, but I’m okay with this. I can only wish him well.

I’ve still got so many stories to tell, and I’m rhyming, like, hell!

2019-03-01 14:37 Philippines Friday

Jeri and his little sister whose name I can’t remember gave me extra food! I can’t believe they drink milk for meetings. So cute and healthy!

I initiated the long-time-no-see stuff with them. They’re awesome.

Even though I don’t write about it much in here, I’m more active in talking with people online too! I take the pace properly of course. Burning out would be pointless.

I love my siblings huhu We’re all geeks except for my charismatic yet chill little brother.

2019-03-01 14:57 Philippines Friday

I MIGHT HANG OUT WITH MY BLOOD FAMILY TOMORROW And I mean my complete immediate family

Oh my gosh. Reaching out can do a lot of things.

Also managed to crack a relate-able joke as I said goodbye to Charles, Dianne, and Jeri's sister!

Now to go home. Must not slack off!

Quick Quest: check FullyBooked for good book! Quick Quest: laundry shop and milk and dinner!

2019-03-01 17:14 Philippines Friday

I re-read the Happiness of a Robin, my first ever short story, in intention of proofreading and revising it, but fuck I don't want to change it anymore. (Except for a few grammatical errors.)

I'll release it as soon as I'm good with the errors. 🙂 I also want to accompany it with an illustration, so it might take time before I release it.

I heard from Tita Kris that Pa doesn't want me to come tomorrow at the family movie night. I'm still asking Tita why, but I also told her it's okay. Everyone is disappointed that I can't come.

About Pa's reasons, Tita Kris doesn't know why either. I suppose he still isn't comfortable with the idea of me, since I remind him too much of pain? Well, I'm a fellow attached person so I'd get that feeling. Knowing someone isn't going to stay long with you, you'd rather just push them away in the first place.

It's important that I leave him more time to heal. More importantly, he needs to know that I love him very, very much.

I'm listening to Yutaka Hirasaka's Letter on loop. I feel like I belong in that vibe after reading the short story. Damn. So many feelings. I can't believe I wrote that. It's not the best read objectively, but it's so precious to me.

I hope Karu is alright. He seemed really tired and dead.

People need time. Breathe in, breathe out.

It's important to take time to breathe.

Breath is necessary to sustain life.

2019-03-01 21:18 Philippines Friday

Obviously, Nynaeve was disappointed also. Here's my explanation:

Apparently he's concerned that Tita told you about the possibility without consulting him first. He's afraid that his rejection of my request might enrage you or might disappoint you of him.

He's just kinda emotionally coping still... He doesn't know what to do, I think. It's sad that he had to say to Tita something like "wag mo pakialaman pamilya ko" [don't bother with someone else's family] like she wasn't a part of it.. I'm sure he didn't mean it but fuck that must hurt for her

From Nynaeve:

True... Also like Do I still seem like someone who rages lol Then again he still don't really know me

To Nynaeve:

Hahahahaha

He's worried maybe because he knows we're close. At least he's trying to understand what others might be feeling now XD

2019-03-01 22:48 Philippines Friday

I'm with Karu now. He invited me to come sleep at Theodore's tonight since we miss each other, ans the truth is that he's only avoiding Ira. He plans to leave home for maybe a week.

That's all good.

What I'm faced with right now though, is a group of musicians who want to talk about nothing else about their world soooo I can't find an opportunity to enter the discussion.

They speak of events where I wasn't around, they speak of people and bands that I don't know, and they're all having fun so I guess it's good. Sort of still feels off though.

Have you ever been to a meeting where you don't really know why people invited you there? That's this. I have nothing to contribute. I can only disappear.

I don't feel entirely bad though. I wonder if I should walk around. I wonder if they'd think I was offended. I want to go out because it's sort of noisy here. The kind that is not so amusing.

I could always think to myself. I'm going to zone out!

What I can learn from this is (1) to not copy their example.

As I have said before, a different combination of people automatically means a new set of cultures to merge.

When you have a band that has solid chemistry and a new member comes in, your sound changes. 

(1.a) Assuming you allow space for this new member to contribute. Unfortunately, (1.b) the new member cannot force a space or it will be rather counterproductive. From invisible, he becomes an obstacle. None of which resembles a team member that is welcomed.

So that's a new tip. When there's someone new, I want to do my best to make them feel welcome and deliberately leave spaces or opportunities for them to belong to a whole new chemistry.

2019-03-01 23:16 Philippines Friday

For their reference, I shared my thoughts to them after it all as feedback and made it clear that I'm not angry. This is just some comment that might help all of us improve with socializing.

Fortunately, none of them took it as an attack. They rather felt sorry but I told them I didn't want to make them feel at fault, it's just some feedback to help them be a bit more aware of what might be happening in situations like these.

I want to rest now haha

Anyway, I think I need to work on tone setting. They thought I was fully angry (because when I'm serious, I speak in calm monotone and they think it's intimidating).

Mission: Set Tone! Soft notes

2019-03-02 00:16 Philippines Saturday

[neist]

Get to Know Me Tag

Get to Know Me Tag, tagged by @expectogladiolus. Thank you for the tag.

Tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know. I’ve been on Tumblr for years, but still haven’t quite sorted out in my head how it all works, so I’m not at all good with the tagging.  I’m also in a pretty odd but highly emotional place today & brain is not working well, so forgive me if I fuck it all up. Tagging @ravatogh, @lattehappy, @arcanelibrarian, @ardatli, @chocobro-daydreams, @chocobrodreamteam, @dancing-aqua, @for-lack-of-a-better-world, @greatswordgladio, @ignis-scientia-estrogen-brigade, @khirsahle, @kaciart, @lily-mina115, @miss-scientia, @sunshine-porcelain, @standbyme-ffxv, @tulipnight, @winemum-ignis

If any followers want to do this, consider yourself tagged by me, and if anyone I tagged doesn’t do this kind of thing, just ignore it :D

Nicknames: Nope

Zodiac sign: Taurus

Heigh: 5′6

Last thing you googled: just got a new combo lap-top/tablet so have been busily googling security freeware and aps

Favorite music artist: I notice there’s no”age” question here, but this answer might give me away anyway... Tori Amos, no question. The only artist to have held my interest throughout their entire career.  I have every album, several singles and a shit load of downloads, and have only missed one concert in my area. “Little Earthquakes” spoke to me, and it really doesn’t matter that none of her songs since that album have resonated the same- that’s simply down to lives & experiences. I still adore her music (mostly- there’s been the odd duff song).

Song stuck in your head: for the sole reason of the wording of this question, it’s now “Can’t get you out of my head”. Good song, but once it’s there you’re stuck with it. Thanks, whoever wrote these questions!

Last movie you watched: Guardians of the Galaxy 2- very fun, highly reccomend

What are you wearing right now: jeans & a flowery top

Why did you choose your URL: for my main blog (Neist) it’s as simple as a place I adore. For the FFXV blog, I wanted something both photography & FFXV related.  I was pleasantly surprised to discover “lovethelight!” was available.  Realised about 3 months later that this was, probably, because I can’t type and accidentally stuck an extra “l” in there...... Ah well.....

What did your last relationship teach you: my sole “relationship” taught me that relationships aren’t for me

Religious or Spiritual: extremely anti-religious (although I try to respectful of others’ rights to their beliefs).  Not spiritual either, but I could concede a theoretical possibility of some sort of energy that we can’t conventionally sense

Favorite color: varies, but midnight blue and forest green always soothe me

Average hours of sleep: damn, I could sleep forever and die happy. Absolute bare minimum of 8 required. Honestly I’m at my best with between 10 and 12.  I LOVE sleep.  I’ve claimed before that Billy Kaplan may be my spirit animal, but maybe it should be Noctis....  

Lucky number: is, to me, a vaguely ridiculous concept

Favorite characters: OK, sit back and make yourselves comfortable..... 

Ignis Scientia (FFXV): intelligent, kind, devoted, selfless, sassy, beautiful & altogether perfect except for the whole “fictional character” business

Billy Kaplan (Wiccan, Young Avengers): cute, sarcastic, super powerful gay teen wizard geek, struggling with some serious self-esteem issues and depression

Tara Maclay (Buffy the Vampire Slayer): sweet, gentle, loving lesbian witch, whose death I’m still not over.

Kaylee Frye (Firefly): sweet, gentle, horny brilliant engineer.

For brevity (hey, I’m trying, OK?), I’ll put all my Discworld favs together: Granny Weatherwax, Sam Vimes, the Patrician, Death, the Librarian, Nanny Ogg

Claire Temple (Netflix’s Marvel shows): she’s actually been the standout for me in all of them so far- interested to see how things progress for her (which does sadly mean I’ll need to brave Iron Fist at some point...)

How many blankets do you sleep with: I see this question so often, & it always confuses me. Blankets? Isn’t that a bit of an old concept? I remember having blankets at my Gran’s house, but even she had changed to duvets by the time I was 10.  Is it an American thing? Or are we Brits the odd ones?

Dream job: wow, now you’re asking. Having just today become informally unemployed, with my former boss and HR both suggesting I think about a career change, I guess it’s a good time to think about it, but I’ve really never had one. I’m, perhaps, slightly above average competency in a lot of areas, but no one wants a jack of many trades when there are aces, kings and queens of specific trades. And there’s nothing I’ve ever wanted to do.  I like taking pictures, and I quite like writing, and I love singing, but I’m nowhere near good enough at any of those things to do them for a job. If someone wants to pay me to sleep, hell yes.