#and these are students. full offense but students more often than not DO NOT...read the instructions correctly

[stillresolved]

*not dead just waiting for the winter break to finally come around :'D*

[whumpinggrounds]

Writing Deaf Characters

I am making this a series now so pls drop requests if there is something you’re curious about!

Disclaimer: This is all based on personal experience and research, all of which relate to the American Deaf experience. It’s not perfect, nor is it representative of a global experience of d/Deafness. If you plan to write a d/Deaf or hard of hearing character, please do your own research! This is intended to give people a few ideas about where to start.

Vocab

Deaf = Refers to the cultural experience of being deaf and immersed in Deaf communities.

deaf = Inability to hear some or all sound.

Profoundly deaf = Inability to hear almost all or all sound.

d/Deafblind = Inability to hear some or all sound and as well as having some level (usually high) of visual impairment. 

Hard of hearing or HOH = A person whose inability to hear may not rise to the level of deafness or profound deafness, or simply may not identify with the term.

Deaf of deaf = A Deaf child born to Deaf parents.

CODA = Child Of Deaf Adults. This refers to hearing children, not d/Deaf children.

Manualism = Refers to the belief that d/Deaf children should be taught only sign language and should not be taught or expected to learn to speak.

Oralism = Refers to the belief that d/Deaf children should be taught only to speak and should be discouraged from learning or using sign language.

Bilingual-bicultural or bi-bi education = A school of thought that combines oral and manual education for d/Deaf children.

Mainstreaming = The belief that d/Deaf children should be educated in the same schools and classrooms as hearing students. (More widely refers to the belief that disabled students in general should be educated in the same schools and classrooms as nondisabled students.)

Deaf gain = The Deaf community’s answer to the term “hearing loss.” Rather than losing hearing, a person is said to be gaining Deafness.

Cochlear implant/CI = A medical device implanted into the inner ear which (debatably) produces sensation that is (somewhat) analogous to hearing.

American Sign Language or ASL = An American system of communication consisting of hand shapes, hand movements, body language, facial expressions, and occasionally, vocalizations.

Signed Exact English or SEE = A manner of communicating that directly translates English words into signed equivalents.

Home sign(s) = Signed communication that is specific to the signer’s home or community, which may not exist or be recognized in the wider world.

Identity First Language or IFL = A system in which someone is described first by an identifier that they choose and feel strongly connected to. Examples include describing someone as an Autistic woman, a disabled individual, or a Deaf man.

Key Elements of Deaf History

Can’t emphasize this enough - this is a VERY abbreviated list! It is also not in order. Sorry. That being said:

For a long time in America, Deaf children were not educated, nor was it considered possible to educate them. When this did change, American deaf children were educated in institutions, where they lived full-time. These children were often taken from their families young, and some never regained contact with their families. Some died and were buried at these institutions, all without their families’ knowledge.

In the early 20th century, oralism became popular among American deaf schools. This mode of teaching required lip reading and speech, no matter how difficult this was for students, and punished those who used or attempted to use sign language. Pure oralism is now widely considered inappropriate, outdated, and offensive.

Hopefully you’ve gleaned this from the above points, but d/Deaf schooling, education, and the hearing world’s involvement are a very sensitive subject. Proceed with caution. It’s unlikely your d/Deaf character would have a neutral relationship with schooling.

Helen Keller is probably the most famous deafblind person in America. In her time, she was also known for being a socio-political activist, a socialist, and a vaudeville actress. There are dozens of other famous d/Deaf people who are a quick Google search away. Give your Deaf character Deaf heroes, please.

The Americans with Disabilities Act, or ADA, was passed in 1991, and represented a landmark victory for disabled activists in America. Among its provisions were closed captioning for Deaf individuals, ASL interpreters for public services, and the right for d/Deaf children to attend accessible, accommodating public schools. The ADA is a HUGE deal. It’s also not perfect.

In 1961, cochlear implants were invented. I was going to write more about cochlear implants here, but it’s too long. New section.

Cochlear Implants

Massively massively massively controversial in the Deaf community. Always have been, potentially always will be. For people who strongly identify with Deafness and the Deaf community, CIs are an attack on their identity, their personhood, and their community’s right to exist. 

Do not allow people to “hear.” The input that a person receives from CI can, with physical therapy, training, and time, be understood and processed in a similar way to sound. This does not mean it would be recognizable to a hearing person as sound. It is often described by people who have them as being metallic, buzzy, or robotic. YouTube is a great resource for sound references.

In order for a cochlear implant to be effective, a personal will have to participate in years of training and therapy to correct process, understand, and interpret the feedback given by the CI. This is not negotiable. Even if your character just lost their hearing in an accident last week, a CI will not allow them to instantaneously regain that hearing. Nothing that currently exists in the real world will do that.

CIs, to be most effective, are almost always implanted when the recipient is very young. This decision is often made by hearing parents. This, again, is massively controversial, as Deaf activists argue that it violates the child’s bodily autonomy and is inherently anti-Deaf.

A cochlear implant, once placed, irreparably destroys any residual hearing that the recipient may have had. This is because it penetrates the inner ear in order to function. This residual hearing cannot be regained, even if the cochlear implant is not used.

Deaf people do choose to get cochlear implants of their own accord. Many d/Deaf people are very happy with their cochlear implants! It is still a highly charged choice in light of the political history surrounding d/Deafness and hearing.

Notes About American Sign Language

ASL is not a signed version of English. It is a distinct language, with its own vocabulary, slang, and grammar. Just a sentence would not be constructed the same way in Russian, Spanish, or Tagalog, a sentence in ASL would not be a direct translation of its English equivalent.

Deaf people have historically lower rates of literacy. This is not due to a lack of intelligence; it is because ASL and English are two different languages. ASL has no written equivalent. In order to be able to read or write, d/Deaf children must learn an entirely different language. This means that it is not realistic to always be able to communicate with d/Deaf people through writing.

As ASL is a visual language, many signs started out as very literal gestures. This means that many older signs are continuously being phased out as they or their roots are recognized as stereotypical or offensive. Please be careful in researching signs. I recommend Handspeak or Signing Savvy for accurate, relatively up-to-date information.

Many online “teachers” do not have credentials to teach ASL, and especially due to the prevalence of “baby sign,” home signs, invented signs, or false information spreads unchecked. If you see multiple different signs advertised for the same English word, please be diligent in checking your sources.

Not every English word has a distinct signed equivalent, and not every sign has an English equivalent.

SEE is almost never used by Deaf people. It’s rarely used and is generally thought of as a “lesser” version of both English and ASL.

ASL is a complete, complex, nuanced language. A character would not switch into SEE for a technical conversation or really any reason. Complex ideas, technical terms, and even poetry can all be expressed in American Sign Language.

Just like in English, there are some signs that are only considered appropriate for certain people to use. For example, the sign for “Black” when referring to a Black person has a modified version that is only used by Black signers. This does not mean it is a slur or the equivalent of a slur. It is a sign reserved for Black signers referring to other Black people.

Things to Consider/Avoid/Be Aware Of

I hesitate to tell anyone to avoid anything, because I don’t think I have that authority. That being said:

The Deaf community has a complicated history and relationship with cochlear implants and the concept of being “cured.” What message are you sending when you write a story in which a d/Deaf character is “cured” of their d/Deafness?

Generally speaking, d/Deaf people do not identify with the “disabled” label. Each person has their own preferences, and those preferences should always be respected. Your character(s) may choose differently than their real life community, but you should put thought into why that is.

Generally speaking, d/Deaf people use IFL. This means that a majority of d/Deaf people in America would describe themselves as d/Deaf people, rather than people with deafness, people with hearing loss, people that are hard of hearing, etc.

Okay I lied I’m going to tell you what to do here: Do not use words like mute, deaf-mute, or dumb when describing d/Deaf people. Hearing impaired is also not ideal but is considered outdated, rather than outright offensive.

The best lip readers are judged to be able to catch 30% of the words people say. How realistic is it to have a character that relies 100% on lipreading? What do you gain when you write a character that lipreads, and what do you lose?

Yes, Deaf people can drive. I don’t know why so many people wonder about this. It’s okay if you didn’t know, but please don’t come into my ask box about it.

Assistive Devices/Aids

Cochlear implants ^ see above

Interpreters. Will have gone to school for years, might have specific training for certain environments or technical terms, etc. For instance, an interpreter that works with Deaf people that have mental illnesses would be fully fluent in ASL as well as having requisite mental health training in order to interpret for them. Interpreters could be a whole other post actually, but I won’t tackle that now.

Closed captions. Self-explanatory.

Alarm clocks, fire alarms, and doorbells that use light instead of sound. This is sometimes a typical flashing light, but particularly fire alarms in predominantly d/Deaf spaces can be overwhelmingly bright. Bright like you’ve never seen before. Bright enough to wake someone from a dead sleep.

Some assistive devices also use sensation - alarms that actually shake bedframes exist and are the best choice for some people!

Service dogs - can alert people to sounds like the above - fire alarms, doorbells, knocking, etc.

Hearing aids. Generally not controversial in the way that CIs are. Only effective if people have residual hearing. Do not really expand the range of sounds people can hear, just amplify sounds in that range. Very, very expensive.

Microphones. If a d/Deaf or HOH person is in a crowd/lecture setting, the speaker will want to use a microphone. If this is a frequent occurrence, the microphone may be linked to a small personal speaker or earbud used by the d/Deaf or HOH person.

TTY: Much less frequent now that everyone can text and email, but stands for Text Telephone Device and was/is a way to send written communication over a telephone line. The message is sent, the phone rings, and a robot voice reads the message. Obviously, this is not effective for d/Deaf people communicating with other d/Deaf people, but it was often used to communicate with hearing people/hearing establishments, as when setting up appointments.

Media About/Including Deafness

No media is perfect and unproblematic, but here are somethings I have seen that I can verify do at least a pretty good job -

CODA is a movie that features Deaf actors, ASL, and a story about growing up, family, and independence vs. interdependence. 

The Sound of Metal is a movie that features ASL and a story about identity, recovery, and hearing loss/Deaf gain.

A Quiet Place is a movie features ASL and Deaf actors, although Deafness itself is not necessarily integral to the story.

BUG: Deaf Identity and Internal Revolution by Christopher Heuer is a collection of essays by a Deaf man that discuss a wide range of topics. This book is not always up to modern standards of political correctness.

Train Go Sorry by Leah Hager Cohen is a memoir by the granddaughter of a Deaf man, which discusses the intersections of the hearing and Deaf worlds.

Far From the Tree by Andrew Solomon is a research book about the effect of horizontal identity on parent/child relationships and features a chapter on d/Deafness. This is a good look at how d/Deafness can impact familial relationships. Some aspects of the book are outdated, and it was written by a hearing author, albeit one who extensively interviewed Deaf and hearing parents of Deaf children.

If you made it this far, congratulations! Thank you so much for taking the time to read through my lil/not so lil primer :) If you have any questions, comments, concerns, or feedback, please feel free to hit me up! If you have any requests for a diagnosis or a disability you’d like me to write about next, I’d love to hear it. Happy writing!

[mon-ancien-amour]

haha okay so he talked to me again today (and the best part was he saw me, looked at my outfit, smiled, and said something like "look at you in your pretty dress" LOL) he's been really friendly with me since we became commute buddies (although tbh this whole year he's been very open with me, especially when we're not in the office environment). i love it.

back in undergrad when i was like 21 I used to do these "teacher crush challenges" (disclaimer : i do not condone this IRL) and I'm reading some of my answers from back then and honestly, it's wild how some of the info has changed

yes he has met some of my family, yes I know his birthday/star sign, yes we talk regularly, yes i am his favourite, yes he has called me beautiful (veryyyyy indirectly but i'll take it ;))

i often wonder if he knew i had a hardcore crush on him like-- i used to blush and splutter and now that I've significantly matured, the "crush" is less obvious than it was 10 years ago.

also dw guys, i know this sounds creepy but he is not creepy, he keeps very professional boundaries with his students (and even me. like why are we still vouvoying each other after 10 years.)

On another note. TAing is such an easy job that it's almost offensive. I'm capable of so much more. I feel so defeated after "teaching" bc i basically just administer the exercises the profs suggest week after week. I'm going to start modifying bc this is my 4th year teaching the same class and the design for the course makes no sense. Like we did an activity today and I looked at the instructions and BLAH I should have better prepared it bc it made me look incompetent. but it's not my fault bc I don't get to plan the course material. Also this year is kind of skewed bc I have a massive class (28 instead of the usual 10-15) with very different ability levels. We have international students who have never learned French and this one retiree who REALLY should be in the next level up. She's too advanced and it's making it hard because she asks questions that cause the other younger students to look like deer in headlights lol

oh yeahhh i also decided quit my profession for good after having a full-on mental breakdown last weekend wheeeee except I decided to give THREE months notice which was probably a mistake but it is what it is, I'll suck it up until then and just save money I guess

gonna tell docteur French about my decision later this year, maybe once I get an agent or smthing so he doesn't think i'm an irresponsible millennial who quit my job with no back-up plan

[writerbuddha]

Hey

Your blog is interesting. I do see where you're coming from in regards to Buddhism attachment and the Jedi and stuff. I do agree about them having no choice but to enter the war because of the implications. Although the Clones are legally slaves as they are considered possessions of the State. The Jedi might have respected them and not persoanlly enslaved them, but neither fact changes their status. However, I can see the other side as well. I understand why people have an issue with the whole "attachment" thing and how its applied. I mean the Jedi are in the right for joining the Clone Wars, despite the status of Clones, yet Anakin is bad and wicked and selfish and greedy for wanting to help his enslaved mom. The implication that leaving her to rot in slavery or die alone, scared and in agony at the hands of the Tuskens was the more "moral" or Jedi thing to do is very problematic for a lot of people. Or, the idea that he should have left his 14 year old Padawan to suffocate under rubble because rescuing her means he's "selfish and greedy" is similarly problematic. I think that both run contrary to the ethical code that many of us are raised with. The idea that you should help people, especially children, no matter what and never turn your back on a friend.

Sorry if this is a long ask and I don't mean to offend anyone.

Hey!

You said nothing offensive. I hear you.

That’s run contrary to my ethical code as well.

Anakin wasn’t bad, wicked or selfish or greedy for wanting to help his mom, leaving her in slavery wasn’t a moral or a Jedi thing to do at all. Nor that he should have left Ahsoka to die, wanting to rescue he wasn’t made him selfish. What you described is, at full extent, falls into the category of compassion, non-attached love. And that is genuine love, wanting others to be happy and free from suffering, covering what you described, helping people, especially children, no matter what and never turn your back on a friend.

I firmly believe the “attachment” thing is problematic because the majority of fans are not fully aware of the meaning of the concept. Attachment as George Lucas described it is inability to let go, possession, owning, having, getting, grasping, holding on. This is identical to the Buddhist use of the term. Because reality is temporary, things will come, things will go, everything is temporary. People, beauty, youth, money, everything will slide, at one time, they are in your life, and in the other time they move away from you. While they are in your life, love them. But you can’t attach to them in the other meaning of the word: “fastening” and an “external part attached to perform a particular function.” You must learn to let go, because if you can’t do it, you and your loved one both going to suffer. And the problem with attachment is that it’s always about you, it’s more the love of the self than the love of the beloved. You want to keep people around, because they make you happy. You won’t lose them because then you will suffer from you not having them. And this is why it is selfish and greedy. And because we all want everlasting joy, if you are attached, you will become afraid of losing your attachments, and it will lead you on a very dark path, ending in hate. And you will suffer, because you will spend your life being afraid, being angry, hateful. And that’s what Yoda was talking about, and that’s what they sensed in him about Shmi: “You afraid of losing her.” And that’s what Luminara said to him in that Clone Wars episode: “It’s not that I gave up, Skywalker, but unlike you, when the time comes, I am prepared to let my student go. Can you say the same?”

Listen to how Lars and Anakin say their final goodbye to Shmi: Lars last words to her: “Thank you.” Anakin’s last words to her: “I miss you so much.”

Whereas Shmi had non-attached love: her love for Anakin wasn’t how happy he makes her, but how happy Anakin is. And that’s why she was able to let him go. I’m always saying, Shmi is a “lay Jedi”.

Luminara is “at ease” when Barriss life is in danger, but I think it’s very important to notice that she always saying, she didn’t want Barriss to die, or she doesn’t care or she gave up. That’s why I don’t like Dave Filioni’s take on that episode, but he said it’s his personal reading, so I respect it. But I disagree. The problem is that many of us were almost encouraged to panic or fall to atoms in times like this, and the majority of movies and tv shows are outright glorifying hysteria as a measure of love. Ahsoka and Barriss wasn’t saved because Anakin started to run around in full panic mode, but because Ahsoka was able to come up with a plan. Luminara wasn’t giving up, nor she didn’t care that much about Barriss, but she accepted the fact that they might be too late, so she started to prepare herself for the worst. “If my Padawan has perished, I will mourn her, but I will celebrate her as well through her memory.”

The Jedi are trained to love people, but not to get attached to them, which is non-attachment – compassion. When you are compassionate, your love for your loved one, their happiness, their freedom from suffering gives you the feeling of being complete, gives you joy. And this is everlasting, because death can interrupt having, but not love. So it’s saying, I love you, so I want you to be free from suffering and I want you to be happy.” It’s genuine concern for others, manifesting itself in active engagement. But there is no fear of you losing, because you don’t have. When you love people, you won’t be afraid. You will be concerned for them, but that’s entirely focused on them, not on yourself. You can’t fear of the pain you will experience when you losing them. That’s a selfish desire for you keeping things and people who bring you joy. Attachment will make you afraid, what will make you hate and suffer.

And this kind of love can extend to all beings, even to their enemies. "don't lose a thousand lives just to save one" however, doesn't mean you must sacrifice your loved ones for the sake of others. The key is always that you should act out of compassion. Not out of fear of losing, the fear of not having.

Why the Jedi didn’t go to Tatooine to liberate slaves, that’s another question, but not because Anakin wasn’t allowed to care about his mother. A Jedi is a negotiator, ambassador, who is not going to war. They were not going to war until Attack of the Clones, as Lucas said, because they are not aggressive force. I always saw that their logic is that If they would go to Tatooine and liberate all slaves, they would have to fight a war against Jabba, pirates, the hutts, the crime empires etc. That’s not what they do. They did it once with Zygerria, but back then they weren’t alone, the Republic actually wanted to uphold its values, they made Zygerria to comply. But with the Republic corrupted, the Jedi wasn’t enough at all to uphold peace and justice. If the Republic would have function properly, they would enforce their laws on Tatooine, but the Republic didn’t care about them, so they didn’t have the support to function, too. They were overwhelmed, and they are not super people. Without the Republic, they go to Tatooine, defeat Jabba, then leave to help others. When they come back, there is a new Jabba, because free people on Tatooine didn’t really care and the Republic didn’t really care. All what happens is that they lose lives. But with the Clone Wars, all the galaxy caught fire, so they had to go to war anyway.

I am more than willing to accept that the Jedi wasn’t perfect, and I have to admit, I am glad to see that when people believe they advocated abandoning friends or family, they reject them so fiercely. But I can't help but think, their morals, choices and situations are often misunderstood. For example, I can't find any good reason why the Jedi wouldn't want to pursue the Senate to give the clones citizenship when the war was over. On the contrary. Their portrayal requires them to do so. Like Lucas said, they had good intentions, and they are going to war to save as many as they can. In the Clone Wars, you can see they care about clones as much as they care for non-clones.

Sorry for the even longer reply! XD I hope it's useful.

[neko-rogers]

But It’s Better If You Do

Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.

words: 7,424 tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship, 

a/n: whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)

     A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.

     “It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.

     You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.

     Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.

     But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is. 

     Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.

     “Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.

     In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike. 

     The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.

     You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.

     Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day. 

     To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.

     And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.

     “Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”

     In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.

     “It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”

     “Oh okay, sure.”

     “Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.

     “I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.

     As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.

     “I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”

     Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.

     You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.

     You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.

     “What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”

     Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.

     “I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”

     Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”

      He does not argue with you any further.

     “Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs. 

     At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.

     “Okay.”

     He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

     “Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.

     Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.

     Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?

     God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.

     “Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”

     As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”

     “It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.

     “Are you sure? I–”

     And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.” 

     “Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.

     One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.

     “Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”

     “Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”

     There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same. 

     “It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”

     “I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”

     Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.

     “Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.” 

     In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     “I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face. 

     “Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”

     “I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”

     It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you. 

     “Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”

     You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”

     “Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating

     “And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”

     “Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”

      Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”

     “I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.

     “Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

     “I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”

     His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.

     The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.

     With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.

     “Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.

     Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.

     It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.

     You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.

     You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.

     Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.

     He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.

     The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.

     “Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.” 

     As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.

     Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.

     As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.

     When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.

     At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.

     The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.

     You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.

     This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.

     Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow. 

     And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.

     From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.

     It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.

     Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.

      Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.

     Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.

     In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.

     “Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”

     “Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”

     You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.

     “Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.

     Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.

     You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.

     “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”

     Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.

     After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.

     “Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.

     “Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”

     “Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.

     You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.

     “Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”

     Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”

     “Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”

     Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.

     “I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”

     “Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.

     “Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.

     “Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”

     “Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”

     “Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”

     “Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–

     “It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”

     “Uhm.” You were doubtful of him. 

     However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.

     “Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”

     “Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.

     “I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.

     Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.

     “Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”

     An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.

     Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.

     If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.

     True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.

     At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.

     In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.

     “Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”

     “Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.

     As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.

     For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?

     Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.

     You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.

     “Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.

     “No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”

     He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”

     Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.

     He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.

     “I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones. 

     You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.

     “Was is it?”

     “I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.

     It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.

     “Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.

     Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?

     “Peter, I–”

     “Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.

     What. The. Fuck.

     “No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.

     The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.

     Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.

     Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.

     Lastly, you turned around and ran.

     You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.

     Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.

     Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.

     You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.

     “Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”

     You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void. 

     From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.

     Hell please let this be a nightmare.

     “What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”

     Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.

     Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”

     “Uhh.”

     That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.

     When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.

     As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”

     Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.

     On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.

     “Fuck,” you grumble.

     “That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”

     “Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess. 

     “If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”

     Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.

     Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”

     Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”

     You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”

     “Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–”      “What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”

     Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.

     “Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”

     “We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.

     No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.

     “Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”

     “I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.

     You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.

     Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.

     “What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face. 

     “P-please let me go.”

     “I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate. 

     Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.

     “Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.

     As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.

     He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.

     “I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.

     Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”

     “I can’t.”

     “Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”

     “I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”

     You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.

     “You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words. 

     “Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.

“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde

     It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.

     “Please stop. What do you want... money?” you whimper. 

     Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.

     “I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”

     “No–”

     He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”

     “You want that, right? Want me to let you go...” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”

     Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.

     Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.

     You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”

     His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.

     “Sorry, babe.”

     He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your  skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.

     Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.

     “Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.

     Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.

     Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.

     You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.

     “You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.

     Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.

     Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.

     “Oh,” you moan.

     He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.

     “I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.

     Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.

     You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.

     “You’re being so tight... Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.

     The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.

     But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.

     As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.

     He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.

     There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.

     The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.

     “Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”

     “You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”

     Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.

     Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.

     “We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”

     He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s... Such a fucking whore.”

     You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.

     Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.

     As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.

     The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”

     Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.

     And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.

     You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.

     The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.

     “I love you.”

a/n: ily pls leave comments <3

[the-last-kenobi]

Most of your fics absolutely destroyed me emotionally so, on my own risk, may I request #13 “You shouldn’t be this easy to carry" with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi-Wan? Thank you!

Ohhh I’m happy to write this one! Thank you! (Always pleased to hear I’ve emotionally wrecked innocent people lol)

From this various prompts list.

_

Qui-Gon descended the ramp of his ship with something less than his usual grace, his expression was rather sour. Other than that, he looked his usual self, untidy but comfortable and serene.

He waved to the attendant heading towards the ship, and bowed to a small mechanic droid that squeaked with excitement, ran in circles around him, and then darted off after the attendant.

Qui-Gon chuckled. He paused to take a deep breath, tasting the metallic scent of Coruscant on the air, but also the warm and familiar notes of the Temple, of home. It was good to be back. Tedious diplomatic assignments that ran well overtime were nothing worth dwelling on, especially when it was done alone.

“Master Jinn!” a warm voice called.

He turned his head and saw Shaak Ti walking towards him, a smile on her lovely face with its striking colors.

“Knight Ti,” he greeted her. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered. “I’m just about to depart to Alderaan; it’s a royal wedding and I’m the token Jedi invitee,” she informed him, but there was no offense in her voice. Alderaan was well known to be genuinely welcoming, and had been more than courteous in their dealings with the Order for centuries on end.

“Enjoy it,” Qui-Gon advised her. “Weddings are rarely something you’d like to miss.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, is your Padawan around? I was hoping to catch him when he returned, he forgot to sign off on his departure notice and was scheduled for three shifts in the crèche, which he obviously missed.”

Qui-Gon’s head tilted to one side, and he frowned.

It was obvious that Shaak Ti believed that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on his mission, which had in fact been a solo assignment. The twenty-one-year-old Padawan had remained behind for class rotations.

And Obi-Wan had never missed... well, anything. He was notoriously early for everything, beyond punctual. It was almost annoying.

Perhaps he’d finally slipped into a belated teenage fit of laziness, or he’d fallen so behind on class work that he’d forgotten about the crèche. Both would be extremely out of character, but one instance of this in nearly nine years of training could perhaps be excused.

Shaak Ti was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, revealing nothing. “Thank you for letting me know. I had no idea.”

She waved it off. “These things happen. You have a good student on your hands; he’s easily forgiven.”

Qui-Gon smiled.

~

The door to their quarters opened for him with a casual wave of the hand. Jedi did not lock their doors often; privacy was an understood thing, something not casually breached. No Jedi would enter another’s rooms without first asking permission.

He wasn’t sure what he expected.

Obi-Wan in the common area, reading.

Or Obi-Wan out and about, somewhere off with some of his more trouble making friends. (Quinlan Vos.)

He was not expecting to find Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of their kitchenette, half-hidden in his cloak, knees drawn up under his chin, crying.

Obi-Wan saw him enter and flinched away, shuddering.

Qui-Gon stared.

The entire scene was so unexpected, so wrong, that for a full five seconds he simply stood there, unable to process it. Obi-Wan had buried his face in his knees and was attempting to stifle his tears, seemingly by holding his breath, which was only making him shake harder.

Qui-Gon jolted out of his paralysis and stepped nearer, dropping onto one knee, sensing that looming over his Padawan was not going to help.

“Padawan?” he asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan looked up reluctantly. His face was a sickly grey; his cheeks were bright red and his blue eyes were feverish. They darted around, seeming to fix on nothing.

“Obi-Wan,” the Master tried again, warily reaching out a hand and resting it on top of one of Obi-Wan’s, clenched around his knee.

Obi-Wan took a rattling breath, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “...What... day is it...?” he gasped.

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened with something close to terror. What in all the galaxy was going on here?

“It’s the 29th,” he said gently. “Taungsday. I returned a day late from my solo mission. Do you remember that?”

Obi-Wan’s tears had increased throughout the brief speech. “Y-yes.”

“All right,” said Qui-Gon, struggling to remain as calm and patient as possible. “All right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression crumbling. Suddenly he very much resembled the boy Qui-Gon had met on Bandomeer, uncertain and frightened, although even then he had not cried. This was different.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon pressed.

Obi-Wan nodded, strangling a loud sob by clapping one hand over his mouth. He said something, but of course it was impossible to understand behind his clamped fingers.

“What?” asked his Master.

“...so...stupid,” Obi-Wan burst out angrily through his tears. “I just... don’t feel well.”

“Don’t feel well?” Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in confusion. “You’re sick? Obi-Wan, why didn’t you just go to the Halls?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. More tears slid down over his flushed cheeks. “I...I...I fell,” he said, sounding deeply uncertain. “I was working, and it was late, and I fell. I think I fell. I can’t walk. I can barely move. I don’t know how long it’s been—”

Qui-Gon was already moving, alarm ringing in his head like sirens. In two seconds he had Obi-Wan in his arms, cradled like a child, his head resting under Qui-Gon’s chin.

“You shouldn’t be this easy to carry,” he said tensely. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you fell?”

“Some... some water,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin was blazing hot against Qui-Gon’s, a sick and feverish heat. He had stopped crying — his tears seemed to have stemmed from a combination of confusion and shame, not pain — but he seemed on the verge of passing out. “I... I got some water... don’t remember when...”

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon ordered. He was striding down the hallways, ignoring the few bystanders who watched them pass with bewilderment and concern. He did send a grateful nod to one young woman who raised her comm in her hand at him, asking a silent question, and at his gesture raised it to her lips and murmured ‘Tell the Healers that Master Jinn is bringing in his Padawan. Have someone ready.’

Obi-Wan murmured something vague.

“Stay awake,” insisted Qui-Gon. “Don’t fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan moaned but nodded, forcing his eyes to stay open. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The words came out harsh and insincere in Qui-Gon’s urgency, and he realized it, because he dropped a swift kiss to the top of the fevered head in apology. Obi-Wan relaxed ever so slightly.

They arrived in the Halls of Healing and were immediately received by a Healer and his apprentice, who had Obi-Wan safely tucked in a bed and monitored in less than two minutes. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes against the bright light and seemed in danger of falling asleep again.

“Stay awake just a little longer, Padawan Kenobi,” the Healer instructed kindly. “I’m fairly sure of your diagnosis but I have to be more certain before I can administer treatment. Then you can sleep.”

“Yes, Healer,” rasped the young man.

Qui-Gon watched from the wall, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves to hide how they trembled. The shock of the last quarter hour was setting in, and he scrambled to keep his wits about him, worried about what this diagnosis might be. He still remembered Obi-Wan’s confusion about the day, his bewildered tears, and that memory was not going to be going away anytime soon.

He had been far too light in his arms.

Just how long had Obi-Wan been trapped in their rooms, unable to call for help and too confused to figure out a way around that? How long had he gone without eating and sleeping?

He found out.

An hour later, Obi-Wan was fast asleep, hooked up to an IV and blissfully pain-free due to a dose of pills he had managed to swallow. The Healer turned to Qui-Gon with a weary smile.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just returned from a mission, but I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s good to know. I was asking about shock, however,” the Healer said gently. “I know this can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.”

Qui-Gon’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.

The Healer seemed to understand. “Obi-Wan has contracted a strain of the flu,” he explained, moving past the brief surge of emotion. “As you know, most strains of the flu are easily combated these days and many species have evolved or inoculated to the point where it’s hardly a concern. But sometimes the flu is stronger. In this case, it’s clear that it’s job was made easy. I don’t think Padawan Kenobi was eating or sleeping properly before the sickness began to set in. It would explain the severity of his malnutrition, and his confusion.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes flickered to the bed where Obi-Wan was sleeping, the fever still burning in his cheeks.

“...How long?” he asked.

“A few days at most,” the Healer said. “But I suspect it’s a habit that’s related to stress and overwork. Does Obi-Wan struggle with stress or insomnia?”

The Master hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to deny it, and then stopping to think better of it.

“...Maybe,” he admitted. The hesitation stung. Shouldn’t he know? “He’s very private with his habits when we’re in Temple. He prefers to study alone in his room, and we usually only manage to share one meal a day during his busier semesters, if that.”

The Healer nodded. He didn’t look or sound at all accusatory when he said, “That’s understandable. I’m going to suggest keeping a closer eye on that. Don’t force him out of his comfort zone, at least not right away, but make sure he understands that three square meals — or better yet, a light meal or snack every two or three hours — is expected of him. As is sleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his throat tightening again to the point of pain.

“Rest easy, Master Jinn,” said the Healer, briefly laying a supportive hand on the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through this. The illness, and everything else. I believe it’s nothing more than a bad habit formed from good intentions. There are crueler demons out there.”

“Yes, I know,” said Qui-Gon. And he did know. One didn’t reach Jedi Mastery without learning the galaxy for what it was.

But he didn’t think he would ever quite move past the shock of today, of carrying his adult apprentice in his arms, sick to the point of tears and helplessness, and then discovering that he could possibly have prevented this if he had paid a little more attention to Obi-Wan’s work habits.

Well. They would, as the Healer said, overcome this.

Qui-Gon drew up a chair to the side of the bed, resolving to wait until Obi-Wan woke, and slowly reached out and set his hand next to his Padawan’s. After a moment, Obi-Wan stirred, and even in his sleep he gave a contented sigh and shifted his hand, his fingers searching blindly for his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon took it and held it tightly.

They had overcome so many things in nearly a decade together.

They could handle this.

And besides, Qui-Gon told himself, even after Obi-Wan was Knighted, he would always be here to watch his back.

He would never abandon Obi-Wan.

_

[chatonne-rousse]

Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave

This is one akuma whose intentions are good. After all, who couldn't use an extra dose of courage to overcome fear?

A superhero whose identity will be immediately revealed in the process, for one.

When an akuma causes several secrets to come to light all at once, our heroes will need to drum up some courage to face their fears - and each other.

But what's waiting after that looks like it might be a dream come true. It'll just take a bit of bravery and a lot of heart. Piece of cake.

***

Only eight days late and several dollars short, I’m wishing @jennagrinsoverml a happy belated birthday with this gift, written just for her.  ILY, my friend!  

Read it on Ao3 here.

***

Ladybug has to give Courageous some credit: she's a rarity, an akuma born of selfless means. A teenager who hadn't mustered the courage to stand up for a younger student being bullied at school, she'd been so ashamed, so angry with herself, that Hawkmoth had found an easy target to ply with honeyed words and promises.

Her power isn't even a terrible one. The beam of light she shoots from her right hand simply causes the person it strikes to relive the last encounter they had when their bravery failed them, this time with courage aplenty. It's admirable, really.

Admirable, but terrifying nonethless.

(The fear of Chat Noir finding out her identity is deep and dark and often floats to the surface of her nightmares with blue eyes and white hair and a drowned, ruined world. He cannot know. The cost is too high.)

"Whatever you do," she calls to her partner, frantic and scared, "don't let her hit you! Please, Chat!"

She hears the desperation in her own voice, and the look on his face conveys that he certainly does. He nods solemnly.

"I'll do my best, My Lady."

She nods back, and off they go into the fray.

For well over an hour, they fight Courageous through parks and plazas, sidewalks and thoroughfares. All around them, the people of Paris have squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, and braved conversations big and small with people only they could see.

Ladybug has to smile as she hears a young man confidently ask for a raise and watches his eyes light up at the response.

That smile fades when she remembers once again that the last time her courage had failed her was just as they were dismissed for lunch break, when she'd tried to invite Adrien to a movie that weekend. His eyes had been so kind as he'd waited for her to gather her words properly, and somehow that had just made it harder.

Then Lila had "accidentally" tripped and knocked into her, sending her to the floor. The memory of Adrien's hand reaching out to her to help her up, those same kind, patient eyes locked on hers, makes Ladybug's cheeks heat even now. But after she was upright again, after Lila had stalked off because no one seemed to care that she "probably would need surgery now because her arthritis would flare", Nino had reminded Adrien about the gig he was DJing on Friday and Alya had led her away to show her something on her phone.

Just like that, her opportunity was gone.

And that would be fine, honestly. Marinette was used to moments of stuttering and botched declarations when it came to Adrien.

But if she's hit by Courageous, Chat Noir - plus the citizens of Paris, Hawkmoth, everyone - will hear Ladybug try to ask Adrien Agreste on a date, and that will be a disaster of epic proportions.

"Ladybug, look out!"

Chat's body slams into hers, sending them rolling on the sidewalk just as a beam of magical light zips over their heads. In a flash, Chat Noir bundles her in his arms and vaults them to the rooftop above, making sure she's steady on her feet once they land.

"Thank you, Ki-" The words die in her throat when she sees over her partner's shoulder that Courageous has followed them.

Chat turns, his baton at the ready, while Ladybug reaches for her yo-yo, but neither is quick enough to stop the akuma's beam from finally finding one of its main targets.

"I'm sorry, Bug," he murmurs as his eyes glaze over.

Using her yo-yo as a spinning shield, Ladybug drags her partner behind the nearest chimney stack just as he begins to speak.

Panic sets in as her mind screams at her over the hum of her yo-yo, the akuma's laughter, her partner's voice.

I can't just leave him!

"Father, may I come in?"

Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can't hear this!

"Yes, Nathalie said she penciled me into your schedule for noon."

Nathalie?

Ladybug's gaze snaps to her partner, yo-yo still spinning to deflect beams of light. She's surprised to find Chat Noir's head bowed in deference, though his eyes shine with a confident gleam.

"I requested this appointment to ask you again if I could attend the event with my friends tomorrow evening. I've already completed my assignments for school and the homework from my Mandarin tutor."

Mandarin tutor? What?!

"Yes, Father, I'm aware that you don't care for Nino, but..."

The panicked scream in her mind gives up any attempt at coherence; by this point, it's no more than a muddled loop of Nathalie, Mandarin, Nino, Father.

Ladybug feints to the left to avoid being hit by the akuma as a mix of terror and adrenaline floods her system. She leaps forward, leaving Chat behind the chimney in the hope that she can engage the akuma just long enough to get her partner back and finally, finally finish this off.

She knows too much already. The cat has bolted straight out of the bag and is running loose on this rooftop beneath her feet, a distraction she can't handle right now.

On hero autopilot, she hurdles one beam after another, then tucks and rolls and pops up to roundhouse kick Courageous in the chest, sending her flying.

She hears the akuma's "oof" just as Chat Noir's jubilant voice rings out from behind the chimney.

"Thank you, Father! Thank you so much!"

She can hear his grin in those simple words, the sheer joy in being given permission to leave the house. Everyone in their class knows what a tight leash Gabriel Agreste keeps on his son. It breaks her heart every time she thinks of it. In fact, she's successfully fought for his release from that marble prison on more than one occasion! So yes, she'd already known with all the clues in place, but there was truly no mistaking it now: that was Adrien talking to his father.

Because Adrien is Chat Noir.

Her heart cracks. Oh, Chaton.

Suddenly, the akuma's progress in clambering to her feet is impeded by the whoosh and subsequent metallic thunk of Chat's overhand swing with his baton.

Relief floods her heart at the return of her partner. No matter who he is, Chat Noir is her other half, and Ladybug is never quite herself without him.

"Maybe we could use a little extra luck, My Lady!" Chat winks at her over his shoulder before facing the akuma again.

"Yes! Right! You bet!"

Get it together, Marinette, she thinks. Her face heats and she scampers away to the safety of the chimney stack where Chat was hidden to call for her lucky charm.

A red and black spotted can opener drops into her hands and she looks at it in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she grumbles, looking around frantically but seeing nothing to help her decipher how to use the lucky charm.

She takes a deep breath, peeks out from behind the bricks, and promptly takes a light beam to the face.

No, no, no, no!

It feels vaguely like having a water balloon popped on her head, a chill of sensation dripping down her spine and rippling through her nerves. It's a small mercy that being hit by an akuma rarely hurts physically. Her vision swims like a mirage in the desert, the familiar courtyard at school coalescing from vapor around her.

The last thing she sees is her partner's stricken face.

The last thing she hears is the akuma cackling.

"Heylo! Who! I mean," she takes a deep breath, a rush of confidence tingling along her nerves. "Hey, Adrien!" She smiles and gives him a little wave.

His grin takes her breath away. "Hi, Marinette! How are you?"

"I'm great!"

You can do it, you can do it!, her heart sings, and miraculously, her brain listens. Her smile turns coy. She taps her lip with her index finger. Her pulse pounds a bolstering tattoo in her ears. Go for it, girl!

"But I could be better."

Adrien's smile drops a fraction. "Are you okay? Is there something I can do?"

With another deep breath, she squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes, her very cells imbued with a courage unparalleled even when she's wearing spots. She could do anything, anything, right now, but she has her mind set on accomplishing one thing and one thing only.

"You could join me for a movie on Saturday."

"I could...?" His brows furrow, but his grin grows slowly, bright but incredulous. "Are you asking me....?" He blinks, takes two shallow breaths. "Do you mean just the two of us?"

She nods decisively. "A date."

You did it. You did it! A veritable party erupts in the back of her mind, radiant relief spreading to her fingertips. It feels so good to finally break through her anxiety and fear and ask him that simple question that felt like an impossible task just a few hours ago.

Thankfully, he doesn't keep her waiting. The answer is in his eyes, anyway. "I would love to," he breathes, cheeks pink and smile dazzling.

"Really?" Marinette squeaks, and now it's his turn to nod.

"I'll be there even if I have to sneak out." Adrien reaches for her hand and gives it a little squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods again, her chest so full of emotion she can barely breathe. Not only did she ask him, but he said yes!

Suddenly, blue sky fills her vision and she regains awareness to the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the chimney stack. Ladybug tentatively gets to her feet, reaching for her yo-yo and setting it spinning immediately. This time there's no peeking around the corner; she bursts from behind the bricks on the offensive, ready to finish the fight.

What she finds is Courageous struggling under Chat's baton, twisted up like a pretzel and unable to move for the steel-toed boot resting across her shoulders.

"Just in time, LB!" Chat crows triumphantly. He tosses her a bracelet emblazoned with the words Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave that currently pulses with Hawkmoth's dark energy.

In moments, the bracelet is broken, the akuma is freed and purified, and a confused teenager sits where Courageous was restrained a moment ago.

Chat docks his baton at his back and looks at his partner with the softest eyes she's ever seen, a tiny, equally soft smile playing at his lips.

Her heart sighs. Adrien. That's Adrien, and he knows.

The lucky charm sits heavy in her palm. Abject fear makes her hope against hope that she won't remember his identity when she casts her miraculous cure, just as her heart longs to hold on to the knowledge that her precious partner is the boy of her deepest desires, and maybe, maybe they really can have it all.

With a deep breath, she throws the unused can opener into the air, watching magical ladybugs and healing light burst forth and spread throughout the city. She waits, holding her breath, but when pink light swirls around them, the only affect it has is the healing of the twinge in her ankle from when she fell mid-fight.

She looks up, and her partner's eyes say it all.

He remembers, too.

Even as fear grips her heart, radiant joy shines from his face as his grin spreads. It scrunches his eyes behind the mask and pinkens his cheeks, delight seeming to glow from his pores. Ladybug has never seen her partner so happy. That elation is a balm to her soul, and she can't help but smile right along with him.

Ladybug turns to the akuma victim and holds out her hand, offering the bracelet back to her. "I really like that inscription" she says, pointing at the now-silver bracelet as the girl fixes it back on her wrist.

She smiles shyly at the two heroes. "I wish I had the courage to do more. I wish I was brave like you."

"We get scared sometimes, too. Everyone does," Ladybug starts, before her partner nudges her shoulder with his elbow.

"Speak for yourself, Bugaboo. This cat has no fear." Chat Noir throws her an exaggerated wink, and the girl laughs. "But real talk, anyone can be a hero in their own way. Little things, big stuff...you're stronger than you think, I promise. Cat's honor."

She nods. "Thank you for, you know, saving me and everything." Glancing at the street below, she gestures toward the edge of the roof. "Would it be too much trouble to get me back down there?"

"Not at all," Ladybug replies with a smile. Calling on her own courage, she looks at her partner and takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thinks. "The usual spot in five? Or less, I guess, since it...doesn't matter now," she says with a shrug that she hopes looks nonchalant.

And there's that smile that shines like the summer sun. He gives her a jaunty salute. "I'll be there with bells on," he says, tapping the bell at his throat and making it jingle.

Ladybug just shakes her head and giggles.

A few minutes later, when she lands beside Chat Noir on their familiar rooftop, her earrings are beeping a frantic rhythm, signaling mere seconds before she detransforms. Instinct has her looking around the roof, ready to dart behind anything she can use to hide.

Before she can move, Chat steps toward her and quietly asks, "Marinette?"

Her transformation dissolves in a wave of pink light, and she hears him gasp as she catches Tikki gently in her palms. Marinette takes her time retrieving a macaron from her purse to feed her kwami, deliberately moving slowly in an attempt to get herself under control before she looks up at her partner. He knows, and he's thrilled, and that's amazing, but it feels like the entire world will change when their gazes finally meet, and she's just not ready yet.

"I, um...I didn't use my cataclysm, so I can stay transformed if you'd prefer, but..." he trails off.

There's something in his voice that finally makes her look at him. Just like when he talked to his father under the akuma's control, his head is bowed slightly, but instead of confidence, this time his eyes are bright with nervous hope.

Marinette understands both the nerves and the hope, and she'll joke with her partner until the end of time about who's in charge, but it feels wrong for either Chat or Adrien to look at her with uneasy deference.

And that's what she thinks of as courage wells in her chest. Her brave, steadfast partner, the other half of their unstoppable team, the boy with terrible timing who can still make her laugh, her best friend whom she loves so fiercely, should never feel he has to approach her in fear.

"Oh, Minou," she breathes. "Of course, go ahead. I...I already know."

He nods and stands a little straighter, and with a whisper and a flash of green, Chat's magical leather is replaced with denim and cotton poplin.

Predictably, her brain is short-circuiting, hollering in panic and terror, but even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest, it whispers quietly, gently, that this is her partner. Her silly kitty. Her dearest friend. He just happens to look like Adrien Agreste at the moment.

(Okay, this is going to take some getting used to.)

Tikki flies off to join Plagg nearby, while Marinette sits down on the roof with her knees pulled to her chest. She pats the space to her right and Adrien settles in cross-legged next to her.

He's the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, Marinette. I shouldn't have gotten hit. I shouldn't have let you get hit. I know this wasn't what you wanted, and-"

"No, no, don't apologize," she interrupts, shaking her head. "It happens. It's...not the first time." Marinette sighs and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling a lot less courageous in the face of this world-bending change now that they're in their civilian clothes and it's Adrien apologizing to her. She presses her forehead to her knees and tries to imagine the boy beside her in magical leather and cat ears. It only helps a little, but it's enough. "We, um-" she pauses, licks her lips. "We have a lot to talk about. I just don't know if I'm ready for...all of it."

Adrien is silent for an uncomfortably long moment. "Yeah. We do." She hears him take a deep breath that shakes a bit on the exhale and turns her head a fraction to peek at him. His eyes are on the distant horizon. "I...think I understand some things now."

Abruptly, he turns toward her, a little smile tilting the corners of his mouth when he his eyes meet hers. Fear tells her to look away, but she tamps it down and holds his gaze. His smile widens.

"May I ask you something, Marinette?"

She nods.

"When you came up to me at lunch today, were you...planning to ask me on a date?"

Her pulse pounds in her ears. She could give in to fear, say no and brush it off like Chat had misheard her when she was under the akuma's spell. But suddenly her heartbeat seems to drum, "be bold, be kind, be brave," over and over again, and just as the smile begins to slip from his face, she finds the nerve to nod again.

Just like on the other rooftop a few minutes ago, his face lights up like the first rays of sun after a week of rain, shining splendid even in the early afternoon light.

"Am I--" he whispers, his breath hitching though his joy never dims, "Am I the boy?"

Be bold, be kind, be brave.

She calls on her Ladybug courage and nods once more.

His breath catches again and his eyes fill with tears that he brushes away quickly.

Clarity dawns all of a sudden, sweeping her fears to the corners of her mind to be dealt with later. She understood Chat Noir being happy to know his partner's identity, his excitement in finding out his Lady was his friend, too. But this is so much more. Beside her sits Adrien, wiping tears of joy from his eyes at the knowledge that Marinette is in love with him. This might just be a dream coming true on a random rooftop on a random Thursday afternoon.

"Chaton," she breathes, stretching her legs in front of her and placing a hand on his knee.

His hand covers hers, and she meets his gaze, words caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes.

"I have a confession to make." He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and takes a deep breath. "I think everyone in Paris knows that Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug. I...know you know." He shrugs as his smile turns a little helpless. "But no one knows that I might have a little tiny bit of a huge crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too."

"Kid, don't lie to your girlfriend. You know very well that I knew, because I've been telling you forever!" Plagg calls from somewhere behind them. Tikki hushes him loudly.

"Okay, he's not wrong," Adrien says, huffing out a combination of a laugh and a sigh. I'm just very stupid, apparently."

"Hey, don't talk that way about my partner." Marinette bumps his shoulder with hers. "I have a teeny, tiny, huge crush on him, too, you know, and I don't appreciate your tone."

Adrien's surprised laugh rings out across the rooftop, filling her heart with so much love she can barely breathe with the force of it. She could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life. She hopes she'll have that chance.

He brushes tears from his eyes again as his laughter subsides, his grin still shining bright. "I'm so happy it's you, Marinette. Beyond happy." He turns her hand beneath his and threads his fingers through hers. "Honestly, there's no one else I would rather have as my partner."

"Me too, Minou," she murmurs, squeezing his hand lightly as incredulous joy sings through her veins.

Tikki's little voice pipes up nearby. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's almost time to go back to class."

Adrien lets go of her hand to fish for his phone and curses under his breath when he sees the time. "She's right, My Lady. Could we meet up this evening? I know we have, um...a lot of things to talk about."

Marinette nods. It feels like she's done a lot of that in the last few minutes.

When Adrien stands, he offers his hand to help her up. Just like in the courtyard at lunch, his eyes are patient and kind, but now they shine with something more. She lets him pull her to her feet, then wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

His soft exhale at her ear as he melts against her makes her smile, scrunching up his white overshirt under her cheek. Her senses are filled with him, and she's surprised to realize that it's a feeling of comfort and safety instead of the usual panic.

Maybe loving Adrien and being loved in return will be easier than it seemed all this time. Her fears seem so silly when his arms are wrapped around her shoulders and his head rests on top of hers - a perfect fit.

Even the nightmarish terror of Chat Blanc is diminished. Adrien never told anyone her identity; he knew because he himself was Chat Noir, and there's no way in the world that Chat would hurt his Lady, nor would Adrien ever harm Marinette on purpose. She must have misunderstood. He must have misunderstood. He was an akuma, after all. She sighs into Adrien's shirt. She can never allow that terrible timeline to occur, but whatever happens after this, they'll face it together. Stronger. She'll make sure of it.

"Do you think my father will let me go to Nino's gig in real life?" he asks quietly.

The sad note in his voice breaks her heart. She squeezes him tighter.

"I don't know, Kitty. Do you think we'll be having a movie date on Saturday?"

He leans back abruptly, though his hands still grip her shoulders. "Of course! I'll be there if I have to sneak out!"

Marinette boops his nose, laughing when his eyes cross. "I think that's your answer for Friday night, too."

Suddenly she's in his arms again, this time lifted off the ground and spinning. She can't help but giggle.

"I knew I was in love with a genius!" he cries, jubilant. He sets her down and plants a kiss in the middle of her forehead before calling for Plagg to transform him.

When he turns his masked face back to her, it's like the world is different. She can easily see the brilliant green of Adrien's eyes in Chat's glowing sclerae. The blending of two of her favorite people into one extraordinary boy who - oh my goodness - just said he loves her gives her a shot of courage even before she suits up again.

"You missed, beau gosse."

His eyes widen comically. "I....what?"

Marinette smiles and calls for her transformation, then taps her lips with her gloved fingers. "You kissed me, but you missed."

The sly gleam in his eyes makes her breathing speed up.

"First of all, I would ask before I did that," Chat says, sticking out his thumb before raising his clawed index finger. "Second, I thought I'd save our first kiss for Saturday. Seems like a great way to end our first date, doesn't it?"

Our first date. A tingle runs down her spine. She likes the sound of that.

"I guess I can wait." Her smile turns cheeky. "But it'll be our third--"

"Ah, ah, ah," Chat cuts her off with a grin. He extends his thumb again. "First of all, I don't remember either of those."

Ladybug rolls her eyes, still smiling.

"And second," he says, his voice pitching lower and making her heart skip a beat, "it will be Marinette and Adrien's first kiss."

Oh, this boy, she thinks as her heart soars.

She bites her lip to keep from giggling. "I suppose you're right, even though we both know we're the same people."

Chat gives her a deadpan look. "Just let me have this, Bug."

She bursts into laughter and reaches for her yo-yo, delighting in watching a grin light her partner's face.

"I really am looking forward to Saturday," he says, unhooking his baton from his back. He reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods and watches him vault off toward home.

The wind against her face is exhilarating as she swings back to the bakery. It's amazing how one revelation seems to have changed everything. Even the zip of her yo-yo through the air sounds different to her ears now that she knows, now that he knows.

Marinette detransforms as she touches down on the terrace and sinks into her pink-striped chair while Tikki phases through the hatch into her room in search of food. A quick check of her phone tells her that she has ten minutes before she has to go back to school.

School. One more thing that's going to be different.

Before nerves can creep in, she thinks of Chat Noir and his beaming joy at learning the identity of his beloved partner. That was Adrien. She thinks of the comfort of being wrapped in Adrien's arms, his scent, his warmth. That was Chat Noir.

And when she sits down in class behind him in a few short minutes, that boy with the soft smile and shining eyes will look like Adrien, but now he's so much more.

Marinette stands up from her chair with a lighter heart than she can remember having in a long, long time. She's suddenly looking forward to the second half of the day, even more excited for Nino's event tomorrow night, and positively thrilled that she has a date with Adrien - who is Chat Noir! - on Saturday.

There's so much to experience, so many memories to be made. It feels a bit like a dream. It feels more than a bit scary. But it's going to be great.

It's just going to take a little courage.

She's got this.

[k-s-morgan]

I know there's very little that could help the situation that you're in right now, but I remember that, when I was going through a particularly tough time, I would always distract myself with one of your fics.

To give a little preface: I often do writing exercises (usually headcannons or short stories etc.) that just sit on my computer and never see the light of day, but around a year ago, I did a small piece that was heavily inspired by TGSTLTH that I never published. When I say inspired, I really do want to emphasise that I didn't just rewrite one of your stories or plagiarise it or anything of the like (I absolutely hate the thought of it), but it was just an exercise I did because I felt inspired by your style, the types of case-based plots you did, and the intensity of your characters.

The plot was inspired by Game No.6, with the dark theatricality of Sebastian and Ciel playing a game on their own terms (it was my favourite arc when I read it - I couldn't stop thinking about it for days, so this was essentially an artistic output for me). To summarise what it was about: Ciel receives a letter from the queen requesting him to investigate a surge of drug activity at a prestigious boarding school in London, and both he and Sebastian attempt to go undercover as a student and a teacher to bring it down from the inside. But, being Ciel and Sebastian, a simple case like this is not entertaining enough for them, so they decide to make a bet on whether or not Sebastian can keep his job as a teacher for the full month they'd be undercover (with Ciel trying to get him fired). Having Ciel attempting to play the part of a high-school student was a greatly entertaining concept to me, and seeing how they'd act in a classroom setting was just as amusing. The title I had in mind for the fic was 'Of Demons and Prodigies'.

I only wrote one chapter that was about 7,000 words (unfinished, so it'll probably end up at much longer than that), and wrote an extensive plan of the plot/characters, but I dropped it the same month I started it when times got busy. I've always had it in my mind to finish it, but since I never intended for anyone to see it, it was pretty low priority so I haven't touched it since then.

Going back to what I was saying at the start, I know there's very little I can do to help your situation, but I can at least try and offer what you gave me at some of the hardest times in my life – a distraction. I wasn't ever planning to publish it, but I've been wanting to finish the fic this summer, regardless. So I'd be more than happy to publish it for people to read if you'd enjoy it.

If you want a better idea of what it's like, I can share a small extract (or 'snippet', as you've so appropriately coined) from the first chapter that I wrote in a seperate Ask, but you don't have to share it publicly if you don't want to (I'm not trying to leech off your audience or anything – that's the last thing I want!)

I hope my intentions aren't misread with this - I really do just want to give something back to an author I like. But it you're not interested in such a thing, then please just say. I won't take offense since it was never intended for publication from the beginning (it was just a thought I had).

Stay safe!

Hi! Wow, I was so amazed to read your ask! Of course I'd absolutely love to read what you wrote. This is such an honor and it inspires me to write, write and write.

The idea is brilliant, I always wanted to explore Ciel and Sebastian in a school setting, but I wasn't certain if I'd ever get to it. To hear that you started a story with such a plot is very exciting, there can never be enough of these two and their endless plotting. And of course it's extremely flattering if my interpretation of these characters inspired you. Ciel and Sebastian playing game with and against each other + against others gives me life, it's truly one of the best ways of distracting myself. Years pass but my love for them remains just as strong, just as my fascination.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 here! / Part 2 Here!

* The flight feels shorter than you remember, maybe it’s because you don’t need to sleep anymore.

* When you land, you expect to see Carmen there, but instead it’s the entire Coven.

* They look like a group of supermodels, and they’re all holding gifts, you see several people staring at them. Every teenage boy’s fantasy no doubt.

* They’re holding balloons, and a woman (the one you believe is Carmen) is holding one of those giant teddy bears. They even have a sign that says “Welcome Home (Y/N).”

* You didn't think vampires could feel embarrassed.

* But here you are, living proof that they’re wrong.

* Tanya brings you into a hug before you can even be worried about being an unwanted addition.

* “Welcome home, we are so glad to have you here”

* “We have an important question for you,” the woman beside her asks, her long straight hair sparkles under the dark sky.

* Kate, you presume.

* “Which do you like more, pink flowers or yellow flowers?”

* The question catches you completely off guard, and when you look down you see she’s holding out a bouquet of sunflowers and hydrangeas towards you.

* You’re not sure if this is all a test, and maybe you’re overthinking all this, but you remember sunflowers mean loyalty.

* “Um... the yellow ones I suppose.”

* “See Irina I told you they would love the yellow ones.”

* Irina rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. She’s the one holding a bouquet of balloons

* “I bet they like the balloons I picked out better though, they’re a nice touch.”

* “Is everything alright?” Tanya turns to you. Her eyebrows are threaded in concern. “Are you thirsty?”

* You shake your head, you feel bloated if anything.

* You’re happy, you really are. It’s just...

* “I’m just a little overwhelmed,” you admit.

* Back at the castle you did have company, but it was sparse. After you were transformed, you only saw Alec or Jane once every few days, if at all.

* So this much attention, all at once, it’s a lot to handle right now.

* “Let’s give them some space, it’s been a long day.” Eleazer nudges them all away, and towards getting your luggage in the car.

* While they’re all busy taking your things, and arguing about where they parked the car, you’re left alone with Carmen

* Carmen who is holding a very large stuffed bear.

* You gulp. You’ve been so busy worried about Tanya you haven’t thought about Carmen. Her husband disappears after he received a call from his old coven, and then he comes back with some newborn.

* You wouldn’t be happy if you were in her place.

* She clears her throat beside you.

* “Do you like bears?”

* A long second of silence passes as your mind tries to comprehend what’s happening.

* “I-yes I like bears.”

* She thrusts the bear out towards you, and you take it gingerly, balancing the two bouquets the Denali sisters had given you earlier.

* “If there’s ever anything you don’t like,” you whip your head to look at her, her eyes are focused on the horizon, they’re narrowed like she’s picking her words carefully. “Or if you would rather have a lion, or something completely different all together, you can tell me.”

* She turns to look at you, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

* “Okay,” you smile back.

* It’s a long drive to their home, they live deep in the mountains.

* “We’re here,” Tanya sings from the driver's seat.

* The house is secured by an ivy ridden wall, so high you can barely see the tree branches hang over the ledge

* There’s a large iron gate at the front, and past it, what appears to be a gravel road.

* Tanya cracks her window down, pressing her finger to sensor.

* “We’ll have to add your fingerprints later, little one”

* “Tanya don’t call them that, it’s offensive,” Irina hisses from beside them.

* “Ah, sorry darling,” she meets your gaze from her rear view mirror.

* “No offense taken,” you mumble.

* The house is exactly the opposite of what the Cullens’ home looked like in the movies.

* It’s a four story home, well it’s a mansion, all dark brick, with a rugged face. You can count on one hand how many windows you currently see.

* It looks exactly like somewhere Dracula might live.

* The inside is equally intimidating, there’s actually a suit of armor near the entrance, like this is some Scooby Doo-esque castle.

* Kate leads the grand tour, walking you through their living room, fully equipped with a wall of swords, a 90 inch flat screen TV, and a family portrait hung over a roaring fire.

* She only waves at the kitchen.

* “It’s just for show.”

* She explains the living situation to you.

* “Irina, Tanya and I all have our rooms on the second floor,” she points to each room, all in completely different directions.

* “Carmen and Eleazer use the third floor,” She waves to the right end of the hall.

* “There’s also a movie theatre and another living area on this floor,” Irina adds from her other side.

* You expect to be staying near the happy couple, so they can keep an eye on you.

* You’re surprised when Kate keeps climbing the stairs,

* “On the right is the library, and on the left is a stairwell that leads to the roof”

* “And right here,” Irina grins, “is your room.”

* The second she opens the door you’re engulfed in light.

* It’s so bright.

* When the place comes into focus, you’re amazed.

* The entire room aside from the entrance wall, and the ceiling, are made from glass.

* There’s a roaring fireplace on one side, several cases full of books, a large plush armchair, and a bed.

* It’s like a queen’s bed, with mahogany spirals and creamy white bedding.

* “What’s with the bed?” It adds a nice touch to the room, but it’s not like you need it.

* “Oh well we thought maybe-“ Kate breaks off mid thought, looking to Irina for help who nods.

* “We thought maybe you might want it to pretend to sleep,” she finishes for her sister. Then noticing your confused expression she quickly adds “or as a comfy place to read, or for... other activities.”

* “Irina!” Kate shouts at the same time you cover your face in embarrassment. Sex is the farthest thing from your mind.

* “What? They need to know this is an open household.”

* “What did you mean about pretending to sleep?” You quickly interject.

* “Well you know,” Irina exchanges a look with her sister.

* “You just shut your eyes, and imagine things,” Kate finishes.

* “I did it a lot when I first transformed, helped me feel more human” Irina adds.

* “I still do it every so often, it’s a nice way to relax” Kate tells you.

* “I never thought to do that.” You mumble to yourself, sitting on the bed. The two exchange another look.

* They want to ask you questions, about the Volturi, and about your past.

* But thinking better of it, they decide to leave so you can get settled.

* As soon as they’re gone, you fall back into the bed.

* Pretending to sleep, what a strange thing, the books never talked about it.

* You turn your head to the side, looking out your window walls.

* “It really is a beautiful view.”

* The pine trees sway in the wind, the grey sky beyond it.

* You sigh, you’ll try and give that “pretending to sleep” thing a try.

* You close your eyes and imagine all sorts of things. You imagine being in your old body and doing crunches so that you could get abs. You imagine eating soup on a cold day while it rains outside, and you think about reading in the library with Alec and Jane. How you would sit in the nook, right below the window and bask in the sun.

* You’re abruptly broken out of the dream when you hear your door creak open.

* You sit upright with a start, eyes open, and your head turned to face the intruder.

* All you see is Eleazer shaking from laughter, as he hides his mouth in his hand.

* You turn to look at the clock, it’s 3 in the morning and it’s dark outside.

* “Thirsty yet?” He finally manages to say after a solid minute of laugh at you.

* You are growing a little parched.

* “We’re about to go hunt,.” Eleazer actually grins as he tells you.

* You move to stand and follow him outside.

* Tanya and Carmen are already waiting for you outside, they don’t need to explain much, it seems pretty obvious.

* Stalk the animal, and then kill, totally easy.

* Tanya and Carmen even corner a deer for you.

* You should be able to kill it, you should WANT to devour it, your throat is so dry, even a bit of relief seems nice right now.

* But when you look into it’s eyes, wide with fear, it looks just like a dog.

* You can’t do it.

* But everyone’s waiting for you to drink, how are you going to survive from here on out? There’s no Alec, bringing you a blood bag every few days, you can’t drink from humans and you can’t drink from animals what are you going-

* You’re broken out of your internal monologue by a pained scream, when you look around you, you see Carmen and Tanya kneeling on the ground.

* Crap your powers.

* The deer crumples to the floor, the fearful look in its eyes intensified.

* “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

* And then you run, you climb up the tallest tree you can find and crumple into yourself like a collapsing star.

* What was your end game here? To raise hell on this world? Right.

* How are you going to do that when you can’t even control your emotions or even feed yourself.

* Geez, even Edward managed to eat rapists and murders.

* You feel the branch you’re crouched on shift a bit and look up to see Carmen.

* She instinctively reached for you only to flinch back, your power to reaching her.

* She must notice the look on your face because she smiles and says:

* “Don’t worry I’ve felt worse.”

* Well you don’t have time to unpack all of that.

* “I can’t kill an animal,” you finally admit.

* You’re waiting for her fury, but she just shrugs.

* “That’s alright, you know, I hate pretending to be a student, so I don’t do the school thing.”

* She continues on, “Kate hates going to the grocery store, Irina hates making small talk with the mail man, even Eleazer hates having to deal with their forgery, especially when it’s time to move

* “What about Tanya?”

* Carmen scoffs.

* “Tanya hates having to see Edward,” then realizing you might not know Edward she adds, “One of Carlisle’s coven.”

* You knew in the book Tanya felt scorned, but you didn’t think she hated him.

* “The point is, we all have things we don’t like to do.”

* Ah here it comes, the whole “but we do them for the better of the coven” spiel.

* “So we do them for each other.”

* Well this is unexpected.

* “Eleazer and I get supplies, Kate and Irina handle going to school and keeping our front, and Tanya handles the big picture stuff.”

* She puts her hand on top of your own, you hadn’t realized she had gotten so close, or that you were feeling calm enough to let her get close.

* “The point is, if there’s something you don’t want to do, it’s okay. You’re apart of our family now, and we help each other.”

* You nod.

* “Come, let’s go home.”

* When you get home, you see Tanya and Irina literally draining the blood out of a bear in the kitchen.

* “Ah you’re back! Look what we got you!”

* Tanya says it like she got you a new desk, not that she’s literally draining the blood out of an animal into a reusable starbucks cup.

* “Maybe we should do this for ourselves too, it’s much more convenient, and this way my blouses won’t get dirty” Irina comments, sealing another bottle and putting it in the fridge.

* “Tanya I’m sorry about before, I-“

* “There’s nothing to be sorry for little one,” she cradled your face in her blood stained hands. “I am sorry, I thought you seemed uncomfortable, but I thought it might be the thirst.”

* You nod slowly, they’re being so kind to you. You don’t know how to handle it tbh.

* “Tanya! We talked about this, you can’t call them little one, it’s condescending.” Irina hisses, and Tanya sucks her teeth.

* “Ah yes, sorry darling, you are just so young.” She pats your cheek, and then grins. “More importantly, you are so powerful!”

* Tanya’s beaming like a pageant mom who’s child just won first place.

* “You should have seen it Irina, she had me AND Carmen on the ground! It was incredible!”

* “I’ve never seen anything like it except with-“

* “Except with Jane,” you finish.

* The similarity had been noted by Aro, the type of power that only came once a century.

* Tanya’s expression darkens for a moment, Jane had been the one to carry out the order to kill her mother.

* Then it’s gone, her eyes fill with warmth once they settle onto you once more.

* “Eleazer, what is their power?”

* You hadn’t even realised he had come into the room

* “It’s an aura” he says it all matter of fact, like everyone in the room should know what that means. Upon noticing the confused looks he elaborates.

* “Basically whatever emotions they feel are felt by those around them, right now it seems to be a limited range of emotions.” He meets your gaze, he must mean the despair you feel.

* “But given time, it can extend to all emotions.”

* Well this is news to you, does that mean one day... you might be able to give happiness to others as well?

* You take a sip of the blood and have to hide your cringe.

* It’s disgusting, what the hell was that bear eating.

* “Delicious” you murmur, taking another disgusting sip.

* “Fantastic! This finally gives us an excuse to stock the fridge!”

* Irina opens the fridge to show several bottles full of blood.

* Great.

* The next few days pass in a haze, you “dream” every so often, drink the disgusting bear blood, and read.

* Oh and you also spend a lot of time with your new family. Getting together for a morning run is compulsory

* The only cringe worthy thing is drinking that gross blood.

* If you had to describe the taste, you would say it had a rich flavour at first, but it’s masked with a game-y aftertaste, it only gets worse over time, developing into a straight up skunky after taste.

* You sit on your bed, looking out your many windows/walls, to the frost covered estate.

* You wonder if humans taste that bad when you find them at random, it makes sense why the Volturi’s main racket were wellness retreats, three days of cleansing the blood with vitamin rich food.

* And then you’re struck with an idea.

* “Hey Carmen, you said I could ask if I need something right?”

* “Yes of course.”

* “I was wondering if I could have the far most corner of the estate?”

* She shrugs.

* “Sure.”

* You spend a few days making the fence, sanding down the wood.

* It’s actually pretty easy when you never get tired, or need a break, or when you’re not afraid you might get hurt.

* And, because Alaska is known for cruel weather, you make a barn with Kate’s help.

* “If I knew you were building something out here I would have asked Esme to draw something up for you.”

* “Nah, I wanted to do it myself.”

* Between the two of you, it’s pretty quick work, but it’s basically a rickety poorly built box.

* But it will do.

* It’s a good parcel of land, at least a quarter of an acre.

* Now comes the hard part.

* You’ve finally cornered a deer, probably the same deer from a few weeks ago.

* “Do you want to be friends?” you hold out an apple, and it watches you with a curious glance before running away.

* Well, it’s not a dog, it’s not going to follow you home because you just because you gave it food.

* You repeat the process with several other deer, but you don’t make much progress.

* You repeat the process for a few days, until you finally get the deer to eat the food you offer, and another several days until one will follow you back into the pen.

* You’re not really sure why it did, it’s trembling and afraid, but you guess it’s probably close to starving at this point.

* “Here,” you give it a healthy meal, before leading it to the barn you’ve sloppily built.

* You’re about to go inside, but noticing that it’s still trembling in fear, you decide to spend the night with it.

* “Dreaming” isn’t any different in your bed than it is in a creaky, poorly built barn.

* After that night, you and the deer are closer.

* “I think I’ll name you Henrietta, that’s a good name don’t you think.”

* You get a few more after that, but none of them like you as much as Henrietta.

* They’re mostly following you for food, well at least they won’t die as long as they’re with you.

* And so three days pass, you deer have healthy nutrient rich blood flowing through their veins.

* “Hey Eleazer?”

* He hums in acknowledgement, his hands are busy nailing in the nail on his birdhouse.

* “Do you think Carlisle might visit sometime?”

* Eleazer’s hands stop moving.

* “Do you want him to visit?”

* Well of course you do, he’s the only person you know with any kind of medical experience. He has to show you how to -hygienically- extract blood from your deer without killing them or contaminating the blood.

* “I think we were making a lot of progress with my powers before we stopped.”

* Eleazer nods.

* “I’ll give him a call soon.”

* Another few days pass, time seems to move differently now. You can’t tell how much time has passed, even the nights and days start to blur together, after all the nights are so much longer here in Alaska.

* And yet, it’s peaceful, you read books, and drink your disgusting bear blood. You watch Irina and Tanya play chess, and Kate sharpen her sword. Carmen likes to embroider when she can, and Eleazer enjoys wood work.

* It’s nice here

* You’re reading in your room when you hear them, Carlisle’ss soft gentle voice from down stairs.

* You haven’t seen him in so long, you convince yourself you’re rushing to greet him because you’ll always be grateful for what he did for you.

* But you know it’s actually because you miss him.

* He was the first person to show you true compassion.

* You get to the bottom of the stairs expecting to see Carlisle, and you do, but there’s someone else.

* He’s tall, at least he’s taller than you.

* His hair... it’s -what’s it called-, not quite red, not quite brown either.

* Auburn.

* Auburn hair as thick as a lions mane, hangs around his face, deep gold eyes, and a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

* This is actually the first boy vampire around your age you’ve seen. Alec was close, but he was younger than you by a handful of years.

* If your heart could beat, you’re sure it would be drumming.

* He’s beautiful. Chiseled cheekbones, and full lips.

* You’re suddenly starting to feel very conscious of the baggy sweatshirt and leggings you’re wearing

* His eyes meet yours, and they stay there, narrowing into a glare.

* Well that’s rude.

* Carlisle doesn’t seem to notice, pulling you into a hug.

* “You look well,” he says, his eyes are so warm as they gaze down at you that you can’t help but smile. “How are you handling the transition?”

* You know he really means to ask if you’re happy now, if you’re free.

* You nod, this is more than you could have ever hoped for.

* His smile widens.

* “I’m glad to hear that,” then noticing he hasn’t introduced you yet, he looks over his shoulder.

* “(Y/N), this is the son I told you about, Edward.”

* This is Edward?

* You turn to look at him again, this amber eyes narrowed.

* It’s not a glare, it’s concentration.

* He can’t read your mind.

* “Edward, this is (Y/N), my friend from Volterra.”

* Carlisle says it in such an easy way, like he didn’t meet you in the brink of despair, when you were pleading him to kill you.

* You gulp as Edward lifts his hand, and you gingerly take in yours.

* “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

[gojo-x-reader]

Red String of Fate

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Warnings: slight swearing, slight manga spoilers

Tags: Soulmate AU

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~2.3k

Request:  “Hello I'm actually not sure if I'm supposed to put put my request here? well, if its not supposed to be here, then please ignore it. Anyways, can I ask of you to share your thoughts on Soulmate AU w/ Gojo around 12 to 16 yrs old where he can see signs of who's soulmate is whos meeting his possible fiance who turns out to be his soulmate (I asked that age bc first meeting! he's from a noble clan and its really weird he doesn't have fiance or something) Sorry if its confusing and Thank you!”

Gojo Satoru was twelve years old when his Six Eyes began showing him the red strings of fate. Every person’s string was different. Some of them stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, almost seemingly never reaching the other end. Others were shorter, connected to the person they stood next to (whether they knew of their existence or not). And unfortunately, on some, Satoru could see the end of the string, but it dragged behind someone, unconnected to another human.

Satoru had told his mother about the strings as they appeared. Those are strings that lead one to their soulmate, she had explained to him. Everyone has a soulmate, but not everyone is in love with theirs. There are different kinds of love in this world.

Satoru’s parents were soulmates, but they did not love each other; that much was clear from how his father treated his mother. He never hit her or anything, but he didn’t treat her like an equal; more of a vessel that gave birth to an heir. He only interacted with his wife when necessary, the two not even sleeping in the same room at night.

For that reason, Satoru was scared to meet his own soulmate. He had one, that much was clear by the bright red string tied around his left pinky that stretched on for kilometers. He didn’t want to end up like his parents.

Gojo Satoru was fourteen years old when his father announced that he would be marrying you, a girl from the Kamo clan. You were the youngest daughter in the secondary branch of the family, just a year younger than him. Tomorrow, the two of you would meet for the first time.

You were nervous about tomorrow, for several reasons. Number one, you had heard the rumors about Gojo Satoru--the first member of the Gojo clan to be born with the Six Eyes and  Limitless, the two inherited techniques of his clan, in a hundred years or so. That meant, in a nutshell, he was much stronger than you could ever hope to be, as someone who hadn’t even inherited the Kamo clan technique (which is why you were being shipped off to another clan). Number two, you had heard rumors of his personality, somehow both cold and carefree at the same time, but one hundred percent a horrible personality to be combined with your timid and quiet nature. And number three, you almost resented him because now you were stuck in an arranged marriage and you saw how well that worked out for your parents.

Tomorrow arrived, and the maids dressed you up in the finest of kimonos, hair ornaments, and even makeup. You weren’t particularly into girly interests, more interested in training for when you enter Kyoto High in a few years; the feeling of foundation and lipstick felt foreign on your face.

You arrived at the main hall, escorted by your uncle (the head of the Kamo family), your parents, and a few maids. You normally didn’t wear a kimono often, except for very special occasions, and you have never been in one for this long. Graceful, you were not, and tripped a few times because of the geta chosen for you to wear with the kimono. Each time, the maids were swift to grab ahold of your arms and stabilize you. They even helped you sit down as you awaited your future fiance and his parents.

Gojo Satoru’s parents arrived before he did. They apologized on behalf of their son, citing that he was on he was back from a mission. You were jealous, he wasn’t even in high school yet and was already being assigned missions. While you weren’t powerful in comparison to Gojo Satoru himself, you could still hold your own against your older cousins and had a decent amount of cursed energy.

Gojo Satoru’s parents seemed nice enough, but the chemistry between them resembled that of your own parents; they tolerated each other, but that was it--no love, no spark, nothing. You wondered if his parents were also put into an arranged marriage. You could sympathize, but you also secretly hoped that the two of you wouldn’t end up like your parents.

You poured tea for your future in-laws, hands shaking slightly, a few drops of tea spilling. As you sat the teapot down, in came Gojo Satoru himself, dressed in a simple black kimono, but the sash was not tied tightly. His hair was touseled, and stained with either dirt or blood (you hoped it was dirt). Despite his unkempt look, he was gorgeous, with bright white hair and eyes blue like the sky matching neither of his parents. Despite the color differences, he took mostly after his mother with her soft features.

When he made eye contact with you, he froze, looking down at his left hand, and then back to you. Before you could even greet him, he immediately fled the room, both his parents calling after him, leaving after him.

That was a bit painful; your first time meeting him and he leaves immediately seeing your face. You weren’t sure how your self-esteem would recover after that blow.

About twenty minutes later, Gojo Satoru’s parents came back, empty-handed without their son. He refused to meet you, but they promised he would come around eventually. So, your family said your goodbyes and left the Gojo estate.

Once your family arrived back at the Kamo estate, your uncle slapped you across the face, blaming you for what transpired with the Gojo family. It was your looks, your lack of femininity that obviously scared your fiance away. Not even makeup or the finest materials could fix it.

So what, if you weren’t “feminine”? Being “feminine” doesn’t exorcise curses, now does it?

You grumbled an apology, leaving to your room and locking the door behind you. You started crying, ruining the makeup that took the maids hours to do, but not even bothering to care. It took a while to get out of the kimono, but you changed into sweatpants and a large T-shirt and left the offensive material on the floor. Neither of your parents bothered to check in on you, but the head maid did. She cleaned up your makeup and brought you some of your comfort foods. She was more of a mother to you than your own, and you were always grateful for her in your life.

The next time you would meet Gojo Satoru, there would be hell to pay for embarrassing you like this.

Gojo Satoru was sixteen years old when he next met his fiancee, this time on the battlefield rather than mitigated by their families. Kyoto was short by one for the Kyoto Goodwill Event, so you were allowed to join as the sole first year. You were glad for the opportunity because that meant you could finally pay back Gojo Satoru for the embarrassment you felt two years ago.

You were told you had great potential as a jujutsu sorcerer, already being promoted to Semi-Grade 2 as you entered Kyoto High. Of course, you weren’t even close to your fiance who was promoted immediately to Special Grade upon entering Tokyo High. While the power difference between a Semi-Grade 2 and a Special Grade was immense, you weren’t going to let that stop you. You held a lot of pain in your heart for how Gojo Satoru rejected you from one glance, refusing to ever see you again that day.

This was Gojo Satoru’s first Goodwill Event, as last year he was only a first-year and the spots were full from the second and third years last year. Since last year, Kyoto had won, the event was held at your school. Not a single second or third year at Kyoto believed they even had a chance to win this year, as Tokyo has not one but two Special Grade students this year participating in the event. There was only one Grade 1 sorcerer on the Kyoto side, a third-year, while the others were a Grade 2 or Semi-Grade 2. The goal was to stick together; power in numbers. While the two monsters Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru could take out the entire Kyoto team singlehanded most likely, the others on the Tokyo team were rather weak, at only Grade 3.

So, the Kyoto side would stick together, avoid conflict. The goal was to exorcise curses, not necessarily fight each other.

The six of you stuck together, exorcising curse after curse. It was strange, as several minutes passed and you hadn’t even encountered one of the Grade 3 Tokyo sorcerers. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, then a voice behind you announcing, “Hello~”

You turned around quickly, barely able to avoid an attack. There he was, Gojo Satoru in the flesh. He was much, much taller than last time you saw him, now towering over you like a tree. On his (admittedly) handsome face was a smug grin, his bright baby blues peeking out behind round black shades. He held his hands in his pockets in a carefree manner. Almost not like he just attacked you and your senpai.

You glanced back briefly. While you were somehow lucky to avoid the attack from your fiance, your senpai behind you was not. The attack left them unconscious, back against a tree and blood running down their head.

While reading headfirst toward your fiance probably was not a good idea, only rage flowed through your head. You may not have inherited your clan’s cursed technique, you inherited a similar technique but more closely to your mother’s Zenin clan’s technique. You could manipulate shadows, not to summon shikigami, but rather to form weapons.

You summoned the shadows to form a sword, raising it to strike Gojo Satoru. But it reached just centimeters away from his body before stopping, almost like an invisible forced kept it in place, unable to move it further. You stared at your hand in surprise.

“Now, now, is that any way to greet your fiance?” Gojo Satoru asked, grin widening.

“Are you really though?” You asked, jumping back cautiously before he could ready another attack. “You didn’t even want to meet me two years ago.”

He placed his hand onto his chin in thought. “Hmm, I suppose that’s true. Tell you what, land a hit on me and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Bastard,” you called to him, switching your shadow weapon to a bow and arrow, pulling back the shadow string, and releasing it toward him.

Gojo Satoru held up two fingers as the arrow stopped in mid-air, much like your sword earlier. “I don’t think that’s my name, sweetie. Bad luck for you today. Seems like we’re just a bad match.”

You were frustrated. How the hell was he doing that?

A siren sounded out through the forest. The match was over; Tokyo won, only because Gojo Satoru had distracted the Kyoto group while Geto Suguru handled the stranglers and the remaining Grade 3 sorcerers were able to exorcise more curses than your side.

Gojo Satoru disappeared before your eyes, but you heard a whisper in your ear from him, “I’m feeling generous. An hour before the individual matches tomorrow, meet me in the garden. I’ll explain everything.”

So, that’s how you found yourself out in the garden at 8 am, shivering from the morning chill. The garden was huge, but somehow you figured your fiance would be able to find you.

“Yo,” he called out, startling you from your thoughts. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“I don’t think highly of you,” you admitted. “You embarrassed me two years ago and my uncle thinks I’m a disgrace to the family now.”

“Yikes, that seems a little harsh. Not like I annulled the engagement or anything. I just was going through some good ole teenage angst then, nothing more.”

“Still going through some ‘teenage angst’?” you questioned.

“Oh, you know, just the normal amount. I died a few months ago and it reset me back to typical teenage angst levels.”

“You what? ”

“But that’s a whole different story. We’re talking about why I left two years ago after seeing you.” He brought a finger up to his lips. “This is top secret. Can’t tell anyone.”

You nodded.

“So, my Six Eyes. I’m sure you’ve heard all about them, being in the Kamo clan and all. It turns out I can also see the red string of fate that brings soulmates together. My parents are soulmates, but they have a shitty relationship.”

“Okay.” You could relate, your parents also have a shitty relationship.

“And they’re the only pair of soulmates I’ve ever known. So,” he grasped his left pinky in yours, “when I saw that red string of mine connect to yours, I panicked. Didn’t want to be forced into a relationship with my own soulmate and end up like my parents. Call me a sappy romantic, but I wanted to meet you and get to know each other on our own, not because we’re in an arranged marriage.”

You couldn’t help but blush. Here was Gojo Satoru, your fiance, one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers in the world, proclaiming that you were his soulmate. It seemed ridiculous, but you didn’t think he was lying. Suddenly, all the resentment for that time a few years ago left.

You took your pinky out of his, looking away from him in embarrassment, then stated, “There’s nothing that says we can’t do all that while still being engaged. Lets.” You took a deep breath, looking straight at those brilliant blue eyes past his sunglasses, then continued. “Let start over. Get to know each other the right way and see where this takes us.”

He grinned. It was the first time you saw him smile with pure happiness behind it. “I like that idea, soulmate.”

[starlight-edith]

When I was five, I visited a church for the first time in memory. They wanted me to carry candles down the isle.

When I was 7 I attended one of the first legal gay marriages in my state.

Although my parents regularly profess liberal values, they regularly contradict them by use of slurs and love for offensive “humor.” This sentiment permeated my young mind, making me full of hatred and misunderstanding for those who couldn’t “take a joke”

My parents weren’t Christian, but everyone else around me was. They constantly bragged of how loved they felt by their community.

When I was 11 I went to a Spanish mission on a field trip. I prayed to God to please help me in my burdens, but nothing happened.

When I was twelve I tried to read the Bible, to feel God’s supposed love. It was too wordy and I gave up.

Later that year I met a boy. He felt betrayed by God and spoke ill of Him often. He opened me to the world of skepticism and true liberal values, but it would be years before I accepted them.

When I was 13 I met a girl. She became my world.

I realized I had feelings for her, and brought up the subject gently. She returned those feelings.

We started dating soon after.

All was going well, until we ran into an issue.

She was Christian, Russian Orthodox or Catholic most likely. She told me regularly that I would burn in hell if I didn’t repent my sin and accept Jesus.

I tried to tell her that such a thing was ridiculous given she was doing the same damn thing but apparently it was fine on her end because she “accepted Jesus into her heart”

Later that year I joined GSA (a safe space for LGBTQIA students on campus). On my very first day attending a boy ran past the door, screaming:

“FAGGOTS!!!!”

The teacher ran after him, but I never felt safe there after that and stopped attending.

Due to this reaction from everyone around me, I felt extremely unsafe, both at home, school, and with the girl who was supposed to love me.

That girl committed more “sins” than I have time to share, but she still felt the need to cast SEVERAL stones my way.

I left her after one final “you’re going to hell for being a faggot” speech.

But the damage had been done.

I was damaged goods. I became reclusive. I read the Bible as much as possible but I still didn’t feel loved. I felt disgusting every time I felt any sort of attraction, especially of a sexual nature.

Every time I did, I punished myself.

I started covering my hair. I covered as much of my body as I could.

Eventually I realized I was forever broken. There was nothing I could do.

I gave up. I had already taken up self harm but now I was actively planning my own suicide. Might as well get on with it if I’m going to burn anyway.

I tried so damn hard

So hard to not be broken

Eventually, after a complete mental break, I became numb to the issue.

I started healing.

But I’m still broken. I’m still hurting. I’m still a fucking faggot that’s going to burn in hell. And I’m still trying to find the fucking God that just stood by and let me hate myself. Let me hurt myself. The same God responsible for millions of deaths of those just like me. Those who refused to convert. Those “God’s Servants” deemed unworthy of life.t

So fuck you if you think you can just go around using slurs that have quite literally been the catalyst to millions of peoples deaths. Fuck you if you think that your God hasn’t been the reason for so much unnecessary death and suffering.

Fuck you if you think you or your “god” have the right to judge and kill, to commit GENOCIDE because of some stupid fucking words written by people who lived hundreds of years ago and didn’t even fucking know that you should wash your hands before doing surgery.

Fuck you. Fuck all of you.

If you can know how much fucking HARM this has done and still do it because it’s “fun” and you’ve “reclaimed” it and whatever bullshit, then I can’t help you.

I can’t help you if you refuse to see how fucking traumatizing this shit is.

I can’t help you if you think it’s okay to ignore that harm and continue on doing what you’re doing after being begged multiple times to stop.

If you know our history and still take this shit so lightly, I can’t help you.

I know slurs have been reclaimed, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re still extremely harmful. Queer is no longer used to oppress people to my knowledge, but the word faggot very much is, that’s the difference. If people started using the word queer as a way to justify fucking killing me, I’d stop using it IMMEDIATELY

Don’t fucking erase our trauma just because you want to fuck around with your friends.

[legends-live-in-memories]

Downtown Detour

ayo its ya boi back with more timari and ignoring my wips cuz im plagued with timari brainrot

written in the same au as: 

Rooftop Rendezvous and 

Alleyway Altercation (NSFW)

AO3 link to the series

Timari 2.2K words, no warnings other than references to intimate relations

Summary:

“Red Robin makes a breakthrough in his investigation of the new Gotham Rogue and goes to confront her about it.”

without further ado

Tim could not believe this. The new Rogue, Karma—Marinette Dupain-Cheng— had been spotted a total of three times since their last encounter by either his brothers or the cops and none have been able to subdue her for more than fleeting seconds. She was caught breaking into a politician’s house when the man was away on another one of his exotic hunting trips; another artefact was stolen from the museum after that, one they were unable to retrieve; and finally she was last seen escaping from Robin by the mayor’s office, only no one know what was taken from there. All three times she was spotted and nothing to show for it other than bruised egos and missing items. 

During his little investigation into her supposed civilian name, he came across a series of interesting police reports from Paris, France of all places. A penchant for grand theft auto since her teenage years as well as a series of vandalism and reports of stolen student records from her high school at the time. There was even a rescinded expulsion, a litany of suspensions and a plethora of unexcused absences. She was a cookie cutter criminal in the making. But for Tim, it didn’t make sense. While all the evidence points to a child delinquent grown into an adult criminal, something about the situation set Tim’s teeth on edge. There was something missing. Something she wanted Tim to find out, if her giving him her name was anything to go by. But what?

She had no local address on file and the last piece of legal information that had any traceable location was a one-way ticket to Shanghai from four years ago. Immediately after her high school graduation. All her social media was deleted around the same time. She had effectively gone off the grid up until her emergence as a part of Gotham less than stellar night life. But why?

A closer look at her time in Paris led him to discover an interesting trend but it wasn’t anything concrete. Starting about when Karma—Marinette— was thirteen, her unexcused absences lined up with some of their infamous akuma attacks. While at first it could be argued that many children had unexcused absences in the beginning, and she had less than perfect attendance even before then, her disappearances also coincided with attacks far from her school which was where she should have been at those times. Then there were reports filed by police who spoke with her parents about her sneaking out at night which also lined up with notable akuma attacks. Either she was an overzealous fan of the city’s temporary heroes, or she was constantly in the thick of the action and kept it a secret from people close to her, letting her reputation suffer for it.

‘Trust me, I know all about acting in the name of the greater good. The good-girl act got tiring after a few years,’ she had said. ‘Much more rewarding to give into your own self-interests,’ she continued. ‘Something you could try emulating.’

Her words echoed in his mind. He never thought much of them before, his mind preoccupied with other things her mouth was doing that night. It could also be chalked up to everyone being the hero of their own story and she had just coloured her own experiences. But just maybe… 

Before he could entertain that train of thinking, his phone alarm was alerting him of his scheduled patrol. Hopefully he could catch a hold of his current person of interest and get some more answers. And perhaps get a read on what her intentions are in this city. With him.

~~~~~~~~

The skyline was a welcoming sight as he flung himself from building to building. The wind beneath him carried him across the sky like an actual bird and the thrill of the freefall lit his nerves on fire. His route was quiet but his appearance should coax out a certain thief. Red Hood was investigating a weapons smuggling deal that was set to take place by the Gotham Harbour. Nightwing was back in Bludhaven with Signal, introducing him to nighttime patrol. Robin and Black Bat were tracking a drug deal that was rumoured to disrupt the balance of the Narrows. Spoiler was with Batman doing their regular routes and Batwoman was doing her own thing somewhere. Oracle, as always, was on standby on comms and monitoring everything. This was the perfect opportunity for Karma to strike so Red Robin just had to be patient. The night was young.

An hour into his sweep of the city and Oracle was patching him into a radio call about a break-in in some pawnshop back in the Fashion District. It wasn’t on his route tonight but Oracle figured that with their likely suspect, and his arrangement with her, he was their best shot at apprehending her. If only temporarily. 

He arrived at the pawnshop without fanfare and found the storefront window broken into. Further inspection led him face to face with the object of his affection. Karma was posed calmly behind the cashier counter rifling through an assortment of jewelry that was left on display in the glass cases. It was only the faint twitch in her eyebrow that indicated her awareness of his presence. Other than that he went completely ignored. That won’t do. Not tonight. He approached her slowly and stopped on the other side of the counter, leaning into her space. He could faintly smell her rose-scented perfume. Her strawberry shampoo. Even the cherry lip gloss she wears under the mask. He’s tasted it enough times to know how strong it was. For a vision clad in black she was rather fond of red flavours. 

“Can I help you, Tweety Bird?” her voice was soft, sprinkled with faux indifference, not wanting to disrupt the background noise of rings and necklaces clanking together. She hasn’t looked at him once.

“Breaking and entering and attempted theft are serious crimes, Karma.” He saw a faint twitch of amusement in her eyebrow but her posture was relaxed and non-assuming.

“That’s not why you’re here. That’s not why I’m here either.” Her eyes sweep up to him as she stops searching the jewelry. She’s staring intently at him as if he’s to understand the meaning behind the words she’s not saying. He does. They’ve played this back and forth before. Danced their little tango of push and pull. 

“You wanted to see me then? Thought this was the best way to get my attention, hmm?” He leaned in, pressing his weight more into the counter. She matched his advance and propped her face in the palm of her hand. Her finger tapped on her mask. He figured if the accessory wasn’t there she’d be biting that finger instead. 

“Well it worked. Didn’t it? You’re here after plenty of time to conduct a rather thorough investigation into who I am. Or was.” She took off the mask, finally, and he was right. Her lips were shining in the dim light of the night with the familiar hues of her lip gloss. He presses on to not let himself get distracted by the slight smile on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. Paris, born and raised. Above average student in terms of grades but a disciplinary streak about a hundred miles wide.” At this her head tilts in amusement. Her faint nod encourages him to divulge all the aspects of his research. “Absences and tardies more often than any recorded presences. About twelve suspensions in the span of three years and a rescinded expulsion when you were about fourteen. A couple run-ins with the police in regards to charges of theft and property destruction.” Her face scrunched in an adorable pout at that as if it were a reminder of an embarrassing moment and not outlines of criminal offenses.  

“Definitely not my finer moments, I assure, but keep going. You’re doing so well,” she interrupted him. She had shifted so that she could jump over the counter and sit atop it, her legs crossed and her arms bearing her weight behind her. Red Robin was temporarily silenced by the arch in her back and the lean lines of her exposed neck. He rose to his full height; just barely reaching her shoulder, due to her new vantage point. 

“You disappeared after your high school graduation, my investigation says you ran off to Shanghai but I believe there’s more to it than that.” She had uncrossed her legs to accommodate him between them and drew him closer by his shoulders. Acting on instinct, his arms found purchase on her waist and he was brushing the pad of his gloved thumb across the exposed skin. It was uncharacteristically soft but neither heeded mind to it.

“You think there’s more to me than that?” She leans in, almost breathing the same air as him. “You’d be the first,” she continued while snaking a hand up his neck to scratch lightly at his scalp. The touch sent shivers down his spine and had his toes curling in anticipation.

“So tell me then,” he licked his lips and stared at her through the film of his mask. “What is Paris’s Lady Luck doing here causing mischief in Gotham?” The question was a gamble and could upset the rapport he had with Karma. He was the team’s only lead on her, for better or worse, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever it was between them.

It was probably the right thing to say though, because she hasn’t left him yet but instead was staring at him with something indescribable in her eyes. Excitement? Approval? Affection? Red Robin wasn’t sure what to make of the glimmer of emotion in her eyes other than to take it as a good sign.

“You got this far in your investigation, Tweety Bird,” she leaned in closer, just a hair’s width away. “Why ruin the chase and tell you everything now?” Her lips were brushing against his as she spoke and the cherry flavour was almost distracting. His tongue peaked out to swipe a stronger taste. The arms around her waist tightened and he pulled her to the edge of the counter, her legs wrapping around him on instinct.

“Surely you could reward me for figuring out this much, right?” His voice was pitched so low if she wasn’t already breathing in his words he would have worried that she didn’t hear him. “After all, it’s not everyday someone discovers the identity of the allusive Ladybug.”

“The bird wants a reward, does he?” She finally sealed his lips with hers, stealing any half-baked retort he might have had. This kiss was different from the multitude they’ve exchanged in their times together, carrying over the unanswered emotions from their last encounter and introducing new ones into the mix. The air felt still and cool on his face and the fingers in his hair tightened even further. 

They were like that for what felt like hours but was merely a few minutes; just calmly exchanging kisses, nothing straying beyond that silently defined line. They didn’t need anymore for tonight. Karma had taken to progress this further by trailing her lips to the sharp cut of his jaw. She alternated between small kisses and even smaller bites as she made her way up to his ear. Her breath was warm against the shell of his ear and he leaned into the faint contact. A lick and a bite later, her lips were curled up into a smirk as her hand in his hair held him in place. 

They stayed like that for moments lost to time. Neither making the next move, nerves buzzing with anticipation. He felt an itch for more that only she could scratch and she was denying him that satisfaction. Despite that he made no inclination to instigate more, letting the ball stay in her court. After more silent minutes he felt rather than heard her chuckle against his ear. She jumped off the counter, pressing every curve of her body against his. Even then, he unconsciously tried to pull her closer, pressing her against his front and the tempered glass of the counter. Before he could do as he pleased with his new leverage, she wiggled out of his grasp and moved towards the broken storefront window, mask in hand. 

“It was great to see you tonight,” she throws a glance over her shoulder, readjusting the mask over the lower half of her face. “And I’m glad my assumptions of you were right.”

“What assumptions? What do you mean?” The confusion was almost palpable beneath the traces of cherries. He moved to reach for her, to keep her here for a bit longer. To explain herself. To not leave him. She evaded his grasp and leapt out the broken window. From outside the building she turned to him and aimed what was clearly Red Robin’s grappling hook out to the nearest building.

Instead of answering him she chuckled and tilted her head in amusement at his growing distress. 

“See you around, Tim.” Her parting words were lost to the air as she shot off with the grapple into the night. Red Robin stood frozen, rooted in place at the use of his civilian name. How did she know? Who exactly did he decide to get entangled with? Among the cacophony of new questions one thing was for certain.

He was utterly fucked.

[forthehpfanboys]

Sweeter Than Sugar

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Reader; they/them.

Summary: Cedric knew he shouldn't. Everyone knew he shouldn't, but he did. He fell for a Slytherin and there was really no going back. Luckily for him, you were.. Soft. Towards him, anyway.

Warnings: Swearing, pining Cedric.

Notes: Reader is badass/kinda punky. My first Cedric story so please enjoy!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

Cedric couldn’t answer the most basic questions about you. All he knew was that he really, really wanted to get to know you. Like so bad his friends were tempted to throw him into the Black Lake with how often he spoke about you. He wanted to tell himself that the reason he was pining fascinated with you was because of the rush he received when being so close to someone the half-bloods and muggle borns called a ‘bad boy’, but he knew it was so much deeper than that. He wanted to hate it, he wanted to hate you, but he couldn’t.

You were special. It was clearer than crystal. You were from a pureblood family, no shock there, and sorted into the house full of snakes but once he saw your fist connect with Goyle’s jaw, he, and everyone else at Hogwarts, knew you were different. The brunette found himself questioning so much every time he gazed at you. Your painted nails, the vast abundance of bracelets covering your arms like sleeves, the black boots, the confidence- you knew you were powerful.

The one thing you didn’t know, however, was how you wiggled your way into Golden Boys head like a dumb muggle jingle and basically held free real estate there. He wasn’t one for sitting and watching on the side lines, but you were intimidating. He wasn’t scared of you, but more so scared of being on your bad side. Cedric did not want to be on the receiving end of that hit. He could still hear the thunk of Goyle’s body crashing to the ground, and see the soul leave Draco’s body after the thunk.

The brunette shook his head at the thought and awkwardly cleared his throat. He planned on talking to you for the first time today, determined to get some of those basic questions (what’s your favorite color? Favorite animal? Do you prefer snogging boys or girls? Are you good at potions?) answered. He fixed his scarf and uniform for the fifth time, his eyes casted down to the fabric to make sure it was perfect and ignored the groans of annoyance from his friends around him. Cedric’s head shot up when his friend nudged his shoulder rough enough to knock him out of his head. He followed the gaze of said friend and suddenly found it a lot harder to breathe in the cold air. You were walking right across the courtyard to the bridge entrance to his right, no scarf to cover your face from the cold, leaving your cheeks and nose the cutest shade of pink. He noticed you didn’t really dawn.. Any protection besides your school robes to protect you from the cold.

“This is it.” He spoke up, adjusting his uniform again. In his head, he was walking over to you, already introducing himself and offering his scarf to hopefully create a nice impression, but he was stuck. The usually confident male didn’t move. Did you even notice what you did to him without even looking him in the eyes? Oh, pygmy puff droppings, he had to look you in the eyes- 

With that idea now in his head, the Hufflepuff simply decided maybe later and turned in the other direction. He didn’t know if he could genuinely look you in the eyes without crashing and destroying his chances to get to know you, but one of his friends grabbed his scarf and all but threw him down the hallway, leaving him stumbling after you.

“Hey!” he called out way too loud from behind you, wincing at how his voice echoed in the tunnel like structure. He adjusted his scarf again, avoiding your confused gaze as you turned around, this time loosening it. The scarf didn’t stop his body from heating up in embarrassment. “Um-Hi.” He cleared his throat, now only a few steps away from you.

“Hello.” You chuckled out, as you cocked an eyebrow. He almost didn’t notice how your eyes looked him up and down before a grin spread across your lips. He looked over your shoulder before talking the final few steps forward. 

“How are you?” His gaze soon met yours, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was expecting you to freak out. His short greeting had you snorting into the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, did I say som-”

“No, no!” You cut him off, your hand moving from your lips to your hair. “It’s not you, just.. An interesting choice of greeting.” Snickering, your fingers ran through your (h/c) locks before falling to your side. “No offense. As for how I’m doing, it all depends on who wants to know.” Your hands found their way to your trouser pockets as your head tilted out of curiosity. 

“Cedric. Cedric Diggory.” He rushed his hand out while mentally shaming himself for not saying his name before asking how your day had been. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, a nervous smile spreading across his lips as you shook his hand- hopefully his palm wasn’t sweaty. 

“Well, Cedric, (Y/n) is doing quite well!” You casted him a warm smile that had his heart melting inside of his chest. His nervousness was quickly melting away, thank Merlin. “What did ya need?”

“Oh, just wanted to get to know you, is all. Sometimes you look like you could use a friend or two.” Cedric smiled right back at you. He really wanted to know how you ended up in the house filled with snakes if you were such a sweetheart. Little did he know he was about to find out.

“Well, some people don’t like how I carry myself.” You shrugged, shifting your bag filled with books to your other shoulder. “But ya know I don- ..What?” Your tone shifted drastically as you peered over his shoulder. Your eyes hardened at Draco and his pathetic gang of idiots as they started their usual trouble making. 

“Found yourself a boyfriend, eh?” Draco called out, while Crabbe stuck his tongue out at you. The problem with taking down one of them the first day they harassed you, led to you being a target they pursued from a distance.  “That’d be cute if he was worth your lousy time.”

You turned back to Cedric, casting him a quick smile before speaking an apology and cracking your knuckles. 

“I’d love to continue our conversation, DigDug, but I gotta handle some morons who don’t know tit for tat.” You put a hand on his shoulder and gently stepped around him before advancing toward the group slowly while ripping off your shoulder bag and throwing it off to the side. The Hufflepuff watched you the entire time, ignoring the tingling of his shoulder. 

“Um-Yeah, no- go ahead?” Cedric's eyes followed the bag, watching it slam against the wall with a deafening thud, your books sliding free, before turning back to you.

“Oh yeah? How’s your pathetic boyfriend doing? Reckon his nose stopped bleeding shortly after I broke it.” You loved watching Malfoy turn pale as you advanced. “Maybe you’d like to see how it feels.” You grabbed the front of his robe and yanked him to your chest. 

While you were threatening to beat the snot out of the pureblood idiot, all Cedric could think about was A: how strong you had to be to throw a bag filled with textbooks that hard and B: how he already had a cutesy nickname. He came back to focus just in time to see Draco wiggling from your grasp and the group sprinting away, which triggered him to hurry over to the bag and father up your stuff. When you turned back around, you noticed the Hufflepuff politely holding the bag out to you. 

“Oh, thank you!” You smiled, taking it from him and putting it over your shoulder again. “Sorry you had to see that. Malfoy can be a git.” You laughed a little, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“I totally understand. He deserves someone to put him in his place.” He grinned like a love sick teenager when a huge smile spread across your  lips and you bounced on your feet.

“Come on! Walk me to my next class!” You grabbed his wrist and tugged him down the pathway in the winding bridge. He didn’t realize how hard his heart was beating until you spoke up again. “So, you’re fine with my methods of putting idiots in their place?”

Merlin, he was smitten for you.

Since that fateful day, you two spent almost everyday together. It ranged from helping each other study, patching you up after a fight and even singing off key right at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Eventually, your friendship molded into a partnership. Not much changed, as you both expected, but it just became romantic. Singing muggle love songs while gazing at the stars, double the cutesy nicknames and even going to the Yule Ball together when the time came. 

Eventually, the cold season shifted to a warmer climate, leaving students trying to hide from the soldering sun and less than helpful warm breezes. Currently, you and Cedric were sitting down by the Weeping Willow, using it for shade. It was perfect. You were leaning into his side with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to play with his fingers while he read. 

“Hey, DigDug?” Your soft voice broke the silence as he nodded his head, silently telling you had his attention. He let out a soft hum, telling you to continue on. “I have a secret to tell you.” You put on a guilty expression, in case he was watching and turned toward the lake across from you. 

“Whatever it is, love, I’m still gonna be by your side.” His arm tightened around you in a secure manner, worry flooding his mind when you let out a shaky sigh. 

“Ok, well.. I.. I wanted to tell you I.. I love you.” You smirked at him, the guilt one big act. He stared at you blankly before slamming his book and setting it beside him. “Babe?” You spoke up when he didn’t say anything. “Ced?” Your eyebrows furrowed in worry. You felt it drain just as quickly as it hit you when he lightly shoved you over, a chuckle leaving his lips. 

“I love you too, sugar!” Cedric laid down on top of you, a smile across his lips. You ran a hand through his hair as you let out a grumble over it not being fair. He snorted, laying his head on your chest and just hearing your heartbeat. He ran his hand down your free arm and interlocked his fingers with yours. “I seriously love you so much.”

“I love you too, you big softie.” You laughed, which sounded more like a wheeze. Probably because of the pressure of him across your abdomen. You were the big softie, whether you wanted to admit it or not. You were sweeter than sugar, but you could turn sour so quick you could make a dragon dizzy. Luckily, he always favored those kinds of candies.

[snowboiwinwin]

The Boyz as my University Professors

Disclaimer: Some of my professors are evil bitches; none of the boys are truly evil and I am in no way implying they are or trying to make them look bad! I love the boys and I just thought it would be a fun thing to post :D

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

Sangyeon: 

the one professor that absolutely loves the topic of his class

super wholesome and smiley throughout the 90 minutes class time

getting super close to the camera (actually to the mic) because he is worried students won’t hear him well enough

always asking questions and encouraging students to interact

not offended when something isn’t clear and therefore students don’t know the answer

reading EVERY. SINGLE. MESSAGE written in the chat (sometimes students have mic problems or don’t wanna speak)

making everyone feel valid and appreciated

being super calm and relaxed

barely doing breakout-rooms cause he knows no one likes them

ending class always a little earlier cause “I know how stressful your life can get.”

just the cutest prof out there

Jacob: 

another sweet guy

never holds class at its normal timeframe

just uploads all the files students will need (although attendance is supposed to be mandatory)

“you guys are all grown-ups, I trust you to decide yourself when it is the best time for YOU to study.”

constantly uses smileys and is therefore super popular with students

doesn’t teach many classes, cause which good prof does that? ugh

gets right back at students when they email him their concerns

and no, you don’t get half-assed answers

you get a very detailed answer, which is rare in university life

THANKS STUDENTS FOR SENDING HIM THEIR HOMEWORK!!!!

“Dear [name of stundet], thank you very much! 😊”

offers students to call him by his first name

“I’ll call you by your first name too if that’s okay... creates a more comfortable atmosphere!”

the best <3

Younghoon:

he is a savage professor

his look is hella scary and students fear taking his classes

but he is actually the coolest and most laid back dude ever

the first time class is held, he comes in, stone cold expression and literally throws his bag on the desk - everyone is hella scared

then he says, in the scariest voice ever, “We can have fun here in class, no problem, but i AM YOUR PROFESSOR. NOT YOUR FRIEND. Remember that.”

*everyone scared to death*

“Welcome to class everybody! My name is Mr. Kim and I am very looking forward to teach this class in our summer term! Feel free to ask any question that might come up and don’t hesitate to reach out to me whenever!”

no need to be scared, he is a sweetheart

strict and has high expectations, but won’t overdo it with homework or assignments

constantly jokes around but then switches back to being serious

he creates a nice atmosphere where students want to learn something and do it voluntarily 

cares for his students and appreciates their hard work - especially during the pandemic

“I know this is not easy for any of us but I am so amazed by your guys’ work this semester. It was an absolute pleasure teaching you. I hope to see you guys again, but not in this class. Please don’t fail.”

I love him

Hyunjae:

omg, he is an absolute legend

class starts and he is doing his introduction part

the class i about british literature 

“Welcome to this literature class, you are in for a long ride!”

so far so good right?

“Let me just say, British Literature is an ABSOLUTE shit show!”

when I tell you, I almost died hearing that (no offense to anyone, pls don’t take my profs words to heart... he lives for british literature 🥺)

he definitely has his students hooked with this one sentence

“the teacher that taught this class before me... what was he even talking about! I mean, british literature is so much more than what he made it out to be!”

basically starts ranting  

teaches with so much passion

can’t forget the jokes here and there

also uses smileys which students seriously love (at least I do)

wants students to be informal with him as well

“moving on to this next topic... a little disclaimer before we start: I will go batshit crazy with this topic because I LOVE IT. So please tell me to shut up when I exceed the 10 minutes mark. Thank you!”

A savage legend that everyone loves

sadly only teaches a handful of classes as well

Juyeon: 

super laid back and chill

does never check attendance and just trusts his students

usually talks most of the time and doesn’t ask too many questions

is super happy when students contribute though

but he isn’t one to force them

“I know your day has probably been really long, so it’s okay. I’m not taking this personal.”

his class is not based on theory but more on experiences he made

shares funny stories, mistakes he made and what he learnt from them

always gives the smallest and easiest homework ever

“please just share your experiences with these types of situations in our forum”

and he does not want to grade students based on an exam

“I have a better idea. In order to understand a certain topic, I want you to write a portfolio about it. It should be detailed but I won’t give you a number of words. Do what feels right and surprise me! Be creative, nothing will be worth a failing grade as long as you put in some effort.”

does split classrooms

one half is in the main room with him, the others are in breakout rooms, working on a certain topic

super chill and just not as hard as some other classes

but students definitely learn from him!

Kevin:

oh boy, students either gonna hate or love him

he is very kind and nice but he is STRICT

take his class serious and work or you will fail

although he has very high expectations, he will make sure students will be prepared for all the essays, assignments and presentations he throws at at them

no half-assed instructions, you will get the full program (as every student should!)

you have to write an argumentative essay but have no idea how to do that?

Professor Moon (students are allowed to call him Kevin) will explain an argumentativ essay in detail, will show examples and will tell you exactly what to put in it

having trouble finding sources?

Kevin will help you, just let him know!

Also a very empathetic teacher

something happened and you can’t attend class? Absolutely no problem

whenever something serious happens (for us it was a shooting), Kevin will cancel class and spare his students cause their well-being is more important

he doesn’t throw out A’s and B’s easily but when you do get such a grade in one of his classes... dude, you did a really good job

so as I said, he is either your fav or least fav professor... choose your side!

Chanhee:

he is a bitch (not really, but he gives the impression)

at first, he is that nice, bubbly professor

super friendly and kind

and his classes are absolutely okay! no biggie

or so they THOUGHT

his exams and progress tests or whatever ARE HELL

he makes it seem as everything is so easy and not overwhelming at all

BUT nothing is easy and everything is overwhelming

50 pages for a damn progress test two weeks into the semester!

the grading is so strict, you need at least 65% to pass! (maybe I am a baby but 65% is a lot for a passing grade hahaha)

but he confuses students

he is so kind and soft spoken

constantly smiling and in a good mood

but the exams????

are you sure you were the one creating them Mr Choi?

and yes, he is one of those professors that wants to be addressed by his last name (nothing wrong with that)

as I said, he confuses students

they don’t know what to think of him

at the end of the day he isn’t a bad guy

just not the type of professor the students would want in every single class for the rest of their lives

Changmin:

changmin is not your ordinary professor

because he is a big fan of team-teaching

so all his classes are taught by him and his dear colleague Haknyeon!

YAAAAY

I love this duo already

he is the part of the duo that is EXTREMELY motivated

he is is so hyper and so ready for teaching

his classes are always fun but also slightly overwhelming?

juts imagine having too much caffeine in your body

that is changmin being able to teach something he loves

that’s just the passion jumping out of him

he is constantly talking and laughing and throwing jokes left and right

he is having a good time!

super understanding and empathetic

and although everything seems fun and games

you will definitely learn from him!

he has this natural and authentic way of teaching in his body

it comes... naturally and it all makes sense somehow

although the class is packed with inside jokes and changmin teasing haknyeon

haknyeon doesn’t even have time nor the chance to speak

this is changmin’s time to shine!

they love and hate each other

but the students definitely love this iconic duo

Haknyeon:

as I mentioned; haknyeon and changmin are a team

it wasn’t really something haknyeon wanted but... how could you possibly say no to baby changmin? 🥺

so yes, changmin’s cute face got him into this situation

he doesn’t even have to prepare anything for class - his lovely colleague does the talking anyways

he usually lays back and relax

he frowns into the cam cause he tries to intimidate students

but they know he is a soft guy anyways

while changmin is talking, he is chatting to students in the chat

as I mentioned earlier, not everyone wants to unmute themselves and therefore posts in the chat

so he is having chats with students, often not even related to the topic

“Please excuse me, I will be absent for a few minutes - mommy duties” -student

“Don’t worry Miss! I know exactly what you mean... children.” -haknyeon

whenever he tries to get a word in, he has to talk VERY LOUDLY

he literally has to talk over changmin

but changmin doesn’t mind, he just smiles, nods and listens

changmin is super proud whenever haknyeon speaks

and haknyeon thinks that’s very sweet

but that thought passes as soon as changmin makes a joke about him

at the end of the day, they love each other at least to a certain extent and students adore them

Sunwoo:

he is not an ordinary professor either

class time? virtual meetings?

nope, not with sunwoo

again, in the classes the boyz teach, attendance is mandatory 

mandatory? sunwoo has never heard of her

he doesn’t require students to attend meetings and homework is also something he does not expect from them

he uploads powerpoint-presentations with videos and audio of him explaining everything in the presentation

but the boy is clumsy

and he is not good with anything technical

so him dropping his glass and spilling his water all over his lap?

well, students will see this in the video

“... and it’s important to- YAAAAH OH NO....”

*awkward silence*

“I spilled my water... if you haven’t seen.”

*more awkward silence*

“Give me a minute”

*the video continues and sunwoo is nowhere in sight*

after ten minutes of an empty chair, sunwoo returns and continues as if nothing has happened

sometimes his kids walk in and dab in the camera without him noticing

“and then - Hey! I am at WORK.”

he loves it though

and he posts these “fail” videos on purpose

“I want to show you, that it is okay to not be perfect and to not be in control of everything! Stuff like that happens, especially with us being in home-office! And don’t worry, if your mom walks in or whatever, in my classroom no one gets judged! This is life and now that we have to do everything from home, the unexpected is unavoidable!”

Another students’ favorite

Eric:

I would love to imagine him as this savage prof I have in mind... but no <3

he is a sweet guy

also super obsessed with the class he is teaching

he is LIVING for it

usually experiences technical problems right before class starts

“oopsie daisy, sorry guys... might take a few minutes *giggles*”

and no, it’s not a creepy giggle but a really cute one, I swear!

constantly has a pen in his hand and clicks it absentmindedly while teaching

students constantly hear the clicking sound... or when the pen falls to the ground.... which happens every five minutes

he constantly forgets to mute himself whenever he wants students to work by themselves and all they hear is him chugging down his water or whatever drink he has prepared

also sends out super sweet emails

but due to him being a young dude, he wants students to call him by his last name

he also calls students by their last name but he does use smileys to lighten the professional mood that comes with honorifics

overall a very motivated but extremely kind-hearted dude

[remusmainhoe]

sirius x reader

warning:smut, language.

not sure what it is, I wanna say friends, to lovers, but really I just got carried away. I hope you love it, I had fun writing it.

I was laying on the grass, near the black lake. The sun shined on the water, the warm breeze lifting the pages of my book, my mother had gotten me about medicine since she worked at st. Mungos, but I always preferred the greek mythology books my dad had left me. I saw him from a distance, sitting down on the grass, sheltered by the shade of a tree, his back relaxed against the bark. Two other girls near him were giggling at each other, stealing glances of him every now and then, their cheeks flushed with anticipation for his attention. Even from a distance, I could make out his face, unbothered by the girls, his dark, smooth hair dancing in front of his face every now and then. His eyes remained closed, his mouth carved into that faint grin he wore so much. James was next to him, his mouth moving, grasping the snitch before it got too close to freedom, and letting it go once more. Seeing how James ran a hand through his jet black hair, careful enough to leave it perfectly messy. Remus crouched down on the floor, eyes hungrily reading every word of the paper in front of him. A strand of his sandy brown hair on his face gone ignored, his hands grasping his quill, focused. Peter was watching James, as his hands clasp around the snitch for the 100th time.

I couldn’t help catching a glimpse of the boy, feeling like the other girls whose eyes also felt what I could only describe as a magnetic pull toward him. To me, he felt like a flame, you could appreciate it, and regard it as precious, but you know better than to get too close. I try to peel my eyes off him, staring back at the book in my lap. When my eyes tired of the words on the page that no longer meant anything, I looked up again only to find those piercing eyes staring back. The corner of his mouth lifting, flashing his teeth, his calculating eyes refusing to let me go. I tear away from him, refusing to give in. I stand up, picking up my things, and make my way back to the Gryffindor tower, rushing up the stairs to my dormitory. I laid in bed, refusing to acknowledge the way he made me feel. The butterflies that swarmed through my body, the warm feeling in my chest, because no one can have this much control over me. Falling asleep that night, his eyes being the last thought before I fall asleep, and my first thought when I wake up.

Waking up slowly, getting out of bed, taking the morning air deeply, letting it feel my lungs, and hoping it could erase that feeling he made me feel. The great hall filled with the first light of the day, my lids heavy as I sit down at the Gryffindor table. The table slowly filling up with students fueling up for the days' classes. I ate my breakfast in silence, lightly listening to the words the other girls were gossiping to me. When I felt those piercing eyes on me again, not wanting to believe my own senses, I ignored them. Lessons that day went by blandly and slowly, I plopped down on my chair in the astronomy tower at midnight. Opening my book to get ready for the lesson, I felt someone sit down next to me, I glanced quickly to see who it was.

“I hope this seat wasn’t being saved for someone else,” he says, clearly noticing the confusion on my face.

“Um, no, it's ok” I sputter out, he flashed another smile in response, in turn making those damn butterflies return, I fight the slight heat in my cheeks.

Before anything else can happen, the professor calls things into order, starting the lesson for the day. Any of the tiredness that I felt, fluttered away. the professor assigned us to fill a star chart of the different constellations with a partner.

“Well, what do you say, partner?” He said turning his body to my attention, certainty in his voice.

I had known him enough to know the charade he performed with other girls, making them stutter slightly, making their cheeks hurt with the smile he would cause. I was certainly not one to judge, for who could blame them? The way that he moved in a way that felt effortlessly yet still carried some precision, the way his words came out of his mouth like honey. The most frustrating thing that made it difficult to forgive him for the effect he had, was that he knew he was goddamn gorgeous, and he liked to see the effect he could have.

“I say, I'm tired, and I wanna get this over with,” I said, surprising myself.

His eyes flickered with something, his shitfaced grin refusing to leave. He turned to his telescope and started to get to work. His hand fidgeting with his quill, his other hand gracing the telescope. I turned my head back to my telescope, observing Perseus, Studying the made-up lines I imagined connecting the stars, picturing Perseus ‘the hero’ with his sword and shield. I started plotting the dots on the chart, his hand hovering on the paper before getting to work on another part of the sky. I then saw Canis Major, which wasn’t that hard to find due to the brightest star ‘Sirius’. Remembering the books I read on the stories and mythology of the stars. Picturing Laelaps the dog that always caught whatever it hunted. sent to hunt the Teumessian fox, a fox that could never be caught. Realizing that they were doomed to be the hunter and the hunted for eternity, Zeus turned them both to stone then placed them in the sky as the constellations Canis Major (Laelaps) and Canis Minor (the Teumessian fox). The irony, of course, is that they continue the chase in an eternal hunt, with Canis Minor rising in the winter skies about an hour before Canis Major, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Did you find a man on the moon or something?” Sirius’s voice pulling me back to the astronomy tower.

“Hmm?”

“You’re smiling at the stars” he pointed out, his eyes full of intrigue.

“Oh, it's nothing, I just like the constellations and the myths and stories they carry,” I explain focusing once more and filling out the star chart we were almost finished with.

“Like what?” He asked leaning closer as if it were a deep secret only he was to hear.

“Well… I like the pegasus,” I said drawing it on the star chart “The winged horse, in Greek mythology, used by Zeus to carry thunder and lightning,” I said not being able to hide an amused smile.

“ the stories become a bit tangled though, there are different stories about each of them…” I continued “like the birth of Orion, one story tells how his father was a poor shepherd called Hyrieus. Once, Zeus, Hermes, and Poseidon stopped by Hyrieus’ house. Hyrieus was so generous with his guests that he killed the only animal he had - an ox. Hyrieus was not aware that his guests were gods. The gods wanted to reward Hyrieus’ generosity by granting him a wish. Hyrieus’ biggest desire was to have a child. The gods told him to bury the hide of the bull he had sacrificed to them and to pee on it. After nine months, a boy was born in that place. The child became a very handsome and strong man. He became a very good hunter and threatened to kill all of the wild animals of the world, however, Gaia the mother of all animals was not pleased with his intention. Gaia set a giant scorpion on Orion, who soon realized that’s strength and sword were useless against the mighty Scorpio. Orion tried to escape, but was stung and placed in the stars along with the Scorpio set to chase him forever as a reminder from Gaia to protect the environment.” I stopped talking, realizing that who I had been ranting to. Instead of looking up to see a look of boredom, and annoyance that I was expecting to see, I was met with those eyes, laser-focused on me, his body slightly leaned in my direction.

“I told you, it's nothing, just random shit I think about” I dismiss it trying to not get sucked into his gaze.

“Is that we read so often outside near the lake?” He asked, not looking away from me.

“Among other things” I respond, before can think about it, I say “why do you care?”

He looked at me for a moment, “I don't” he said, and leaned back in his chair for a few minutes staring at the sky. Our star sheet laid out completed, and minutes to spare.

“But let's say I do,” he said leaning back toward me swiftly, his scent gracing my nose, my lungs filling lightly with cologne, leather, and cigarettes.

“Ok, humor me.” I say “what could Mr. popularity possibly have to care about? Apart from his hair”, I say, this time keeping eye contact.

“What do you have against my hair?” He said in the mocked offense.

“Nothing” I answer with slight sarcasm, slightly holding my hands up in defense.

I don't know what made me feel the need to not let him get to me. Hogwarts, although a big castle, I would always see how the girls would spoil him with love, and attention. I’ve read enough books, I don't want to be the “I'm not like other girls” bullshit, but I'm not gonna let him play his little game of cat and mouse.

He paused for a moment before speaking again, “well I just think that any book that can keep you from stealing glances at me, must be one hell of a book”

“Well, you think mighty big of yourself” I choke out a laugh, “you know, for a second there you had me,” I say without missing a beat.

“Is that so?” He countered.

Before I can say more, the lesson ends, I grab my things not trusting myself to say more. Getting to my dorm room, my head infected with him. His grin plastered on his face, with those eyes that see right through anyone. I'm not angry with what he said, it's what he made me feel that terrified me.

The next day, I sat at the Gryffindor table having breakfast, when I felt someone sit next to me. I turned and saw him sitting there, a bit further from his groupie.

“What are you doing over here,” I asked out of pure reflex.

“It is a free country” he responded as he served his breakfast.

“Yeah… sorry” he hadn’t done anything wrong, and it wasn’t my business, even if it was weird to see his hip separated from James. We ate in silence and headed to our first class, transfiguration, the moment I took my seat, he plopped down next to me.

“Ok, what’s your game here?” I ask him, frustrated that I even have to fight back a grin playing at the corner of my mouth. If he noticed, he didn’t say so.

“Nothing,” he said innocently. The class began, and we were assigned to transform bunnies into slippers. I managed to make some hoping slippers, with a tail at the back, Sirius chuckled at them.

“Don't judge them” I said, not even realizing I was smiling.

“I'm sorry,” he says, poorly hiding his amusement.

“Why don't you try it then” I challenge looking at his bunny.

“Ok, fine” he shrugged, with a swish of his wand, his bunny turned into a pair of slippers you would probably only find at a high-end store. “I could give you a lesson if you want” he teased.

“You know, one day you’re going to need slippers that jump,” I said catching my slippers, and transforming them back into the fluffy bunny.

The classes after that, he sat next to me, at first I thought he would come back to his senses and go back to his group, but after 2 weeks of laughing at his jokes in class, how he would pull a little prank, how he would know how to get me to start ranting about something, I didn’t think twice about it. He then started to sit with me in the library, and distract me from doing work. Later on, he and I would go out near the black lake where I once sat alone, I read to him the stories I held so deep to my heart. He would grasp every word of it.

It was inevitable, but after a while, I started to hang out with the others too. Remus and I would revise together, James would pull me into small pranks, and I would help Peter understand some of the charms he couldn’t do.

I tried not to think about the things I would feel when I saw Sirius. How I wanted to mess up his hair just a little bit because it was too perfect. How his laughter gave me a feeling of happiness that spread to my mouth that made me smile and laugh like an idiot. How I would think about the way that his muscles moved when he practiced quidditch with James, how his face looked chiseled by the gods.

I was back in the Gryffindor common room, trying to finish as much work as I could before I realized that the common room was empty, looking up at the clock to see the hands read 3:30 in the morning. I was about to gather my things to head to my dorm and call it a night when I heard the door to the common room open. Turning around, I didn’t see anyone there, yet the door started to close on its own, the fat lady fast asleep. Before I can even process it, I hear a thump near the fireplace, and all of the sudden see Sirius on the floor, a cloak next to him. Before I can even question it, I see the scarlet red that trails on his white shirt, I felt my eyes open wide as I rush to him, my legs forming a mind of their own.

“Sirius?”

He looks up at me, “y/n.. I-“ he's cut off with a hiss of pain escaping his mouth as the blood trails down.

“Take off your shirt so I can see”

“Isn’t that a bold request” he forces a teasing smile.

“Your a wanker” I say trying not to laugh, my heart still racing. “You know what I mean”

He lifts the white shirt, if it weren’t for the gash on his torso, I could have been easily distracted by the way that his muscles moved. The way that the low light of the fireplace reflected off his skin, the way that his skin glowed from a slight sheen of sweat.

“Stay here, ill be right back,” I say getting up, he grabbed my hand before I could move.

“You can't get any help,” he said, his voice laced with panic.

“It's ok, I have some bandages in my dorm,” I said. I rushed up to my trunk and grabbed what I needed, my mother always made sure I was prepared and was eager to teach me everything she could about her work. I rushed back to the common room, kneeling next to him. My fingers slightly shaking from the initial shock. The scratch was deep, so I started to work on some charms that my mother had taught me. Sirius was laying down on his elbows. After healing the wound as much as I could, I grabbed a small towel, drowning it in water, and brushing it lightly on his dark red blood now rusting slightly on him.

“How do you know all that?” He asked, I hadn’t noticed him looking at me.

“My mum” I answered wrapping him up in bandages. “How does it feel?” I asked

“Loads better” he answered.

“You better get some rest, take the bandage off tomorrow in the morning, if it hasn’t healed completely tell me,” I said, “did you lose a lot of blood?” I asked starting to examine him to see if he was paler than usual”

“I'm ok y/n, thank you,” he said, “aren’t you gonna ask me why I was butchered, or why I'm out at 3 in the morning?” He asked.

“If you want to tell me, id be glad to hear it, but it's non of my business” I answered honestly, he looked at me relieved, “thank you, it's not really my secret to tell”. He was sitting up a lot straighter.

“I get it,” I said sincerely.

“Why are you up so late?” He asked.

“I was just working a bit, got carried away. I was on my way to my dorm when you stumbled in” I smiled.

“Yeah, sorry bout that”

“It's nothing, my mum would probably thank you for giving some medical practice” I joke.

“Glad to help. It's hypnotizing seeing you so focused.” He said

I laid in my bed that night, feeling guilt for knowing that I got so close to the flame I promised myself I wouldn’t touch, yet also feeling a sense of relief that he was ok.

The next morning I sat in the morning, not being able to help myself, wanting to know how he was. He came downstairs, the look of surprise evident in his eyes at seeing me waiting for him.

“Y/n,” he said.

“Hey, sorry, I just wanted to know if you were ok”

“Yeah, It's healed” he answered making sure only I could hear him.

“That’s good… well I just… I just wanted to make sure”

“Thank you again,” he said, taking a step closer.

His eyes were piercing right through me, his hand hovering slightly over mine. I leaned up and kissed him, my hand over his jaw, my lips on his, my tongue tasting him like a drug I never knew I was sober from. His lips welcoming me, I snapped back into reality and pulled away, his eyes still close leaning in my direction.

“I'm sorry… I … sorry” was all I could spit out, I made my way back to my dorm feeling like a fool for thinking that a guy like Sirius would like me, that he regarded me any more different than the other girls that touched those same lips. I had been stupid, I had burned my house I worked so hard to protect, on that flame yet what scared me was that I would do it again. His hand grabbed my wrist. before I knew it, those lips met mine again, but this time they were prepared. He pulled apart just enough to speak.

“I want you y/n”

“You already have me”

I couldn’t even think about how stupid I was being, how cheesy this all was, because when his hands lingered on my waist as his lips enraptured me all thoughts and common sense went out the window. Up in his dormitory he closed the door, we both knew everyone would be in lessons. My hands tangled in his hair finally getting a chance to mess it up. His hands sliding my shirt off as he unclipped my bra, and I took his shirt off, and he pulled down my skirt, I slipped out of my shoes. For a moment he looked at me, revealed for him, exposed.

“My merlin you’re even more gorgeous than I thought,” he said breathlessly. I could feel myself blush, he started to massage my breasts, and I let out a moan. I unbuckled his belt and felt him hard for me. All this time I thought he was in control, yet he felt the same things I felt. I slipped a hand removing his trousers enough to relieve him a bit, he let out a low growl and I throbbed. He moved my panties, starting to draw circles on my clit making me unravel. I laid on his bed, pinned down beneath him, he stretched me out, and I let out a gasp of pleasure. His mouth began to play with my nipples, placing hickeys everywhere because I was his. I bit down a moan.

“Don't hold it back love, I wanna hear you scream” he said in my ear. His movements making the pleasure in my abdomen build-up, but I knew he would tell me when I could cum for him.

“Sirius” his name coming out of my lips like water.

“Cum for me darling”

[sleepylixie]

I Hate to Admit

College! AU Bang Chan X fem! reader

Imperium Universe || Jisung || Seungmin || Chan 

2k (I’m so sorry), fluffiest fluff 

Request? Yes! Hope you like this, Anon!! Apologies about getting a wee bit carried away. >.<

Warnings: None!

A/N: I liked writing this, even though it’s waayyyy longer than I expected it to be oops. This is an extension of the same universe as this Jisung fic and this Seungmin fic, but you can definitely read this as a standalone! Do let me know what you think about this fic, I’d love to hear feedback!! ONTO THE FIC :D

Requests are open for SKZ and BTS! || Masterlist

The skate park right outside your campus was always an interesting sight. There were always a lot of people around, enjoying themselves on the gentle slopes and plateaus. You were always mystified by the way the skateboarders could so easily throw themselves into the air, seemingly unafraid of taking a tumble to the concrete floor.

You’d pass by the skate park thrice a week in the early evening, on your way to a part-time shift at Imperium- the closest bar to your university. Your shifts ran late sometimes, bordering on midnight when you’d step out of Imperium’s back door.

More often than not, you’d encounter the same lone figure in the skatepark on your way back- an average-sized, lean figure who had a way with the skateboard that you’d never seen anybody have before. The first time you spotted him, you stopped and watched for a few moments as he made his way up the slopes like it was nothing at all- he was that good.

Skateboarding wasn’t your thing as much as people watching- there were so many interesting people in the world, so many different kinds of personalities that you couldn’t get enough. You would write them into stories of back-alley romance, tales of rippling fantasy and chronicles of traitorous woe,  reveling in the way your worlds and characters built themselves up along the plot.

It became an unconscious habit, seeing the boy(it seemed like a boy, judging from his impeccably built shoulders and a penchant for extremely sleeveless muscle tops.) on your way back from your late bartending shifts.

He was curious, you decided. Who only visited the skate park when it was at it’s emptiest despite being so good? Did he not like attention? Was he shy? You made a mental note to try and talk to him one day- you weren’t hesitant with your curiosities. Someday, when you weren’t bogged down by your already numerous Works in progress and university, you would approach him and find out more about this midnight skateboarder.

But as it turned out, you didn’t have to wait too long.

//

“Y/N! Where were you, it’s almost 1 a.m!” Your sorority sister Chaeyoung sat up on her bed as you walked into your shared room. Her short blonde hair fluttered around her face as she slipped off the bed, bounding towards you. “I had a longer shift than normal, Imperium was weirdly full.” You responded, pulling your bag off your shoulder.

“Alpha Phi Alpha is throwing another rager. Do you want in?”

That’s when you heard it. You’d been so absorbed in the music from your own earphones that you didn’t even noticed the deep bass thumping through the air, the muffled cheers and screams of enjoyment. Of course there was a party going on, it was a Friday night.

Life next to a fraternity house wasn’t the most peaceful, but you didn’t mind it. Your sorority, Delta Kappa, was housed right next to the Alpha Phi Alpha frat house, close enough to share a fenced wall.

The Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity was the most sought after fraternity on campus; acceptance meant instant skyrocketing of social worth. It was all extremely cliché: the best frat on campus, filled with the smartest, most attractive guys, throwing the most memorable parties and yet maintaining their stellar record of being good at pretty much everything.

“Sure, why not? I have some energy to let off.” You smile, throwing open your shared wardrobe. Chae’s eyes shone wickedly, she was sold by the idea of any kind of party. “Are any of the other sisters coming??”

“Jennie, Lia and Yeri already left. I thought I’ll wait around for you.”

“How nice of you, Chae,” You huff out another laugh as you held out an outfit for her to see. “Ooh, I like it. Now hurry up, right?”

“Okay, okay!!”

20 minutes later, you were walking into your next-door frat house with Chae, already warmed by the electric vibe. “Y/N!!! You’re here!!”  There he was-tall, blonde and devastatingly handsome. Also seemingly tipsy, by the looks of it. Hwang Hyunjin was one of your closest friends, but he had a hard time handling his liquor, even though he would stoutly disagree when sober.

“What took you so long?” He slurred slightly, slinging an arm around you and giving you a tight, alcohol-smelling hug. “Unlike some of you, I have a job, Hyunin,” You quipped, returning his embrace and pecking his cheek- your usual greeting.

“Whatever, you’re here now.” He scoffed and ruffled your hair. “ We just made some new additions to the frat, you should come and meet them.”

“Sure, why not?” So Hyunjin took your hand and led you through the throngs of partying people. Soon enough, you stepped onto the roof of the frat house, a fairly clean space for being set up by a troupe of boys. Fairy lights left the people on the terrace bathed in soft yellow lights, a rather aesthetic sight.

There were around a handful of people lounging around on the couches and carpets, but Hyunjin led you to a particular group of people nearest to the railing, laughing and talking in a circle. You knew he had a gang of friends from all over the campus that just seemed to have an inexplicable pull towards each other.

You knew some of them by appearance from other ragers- music major Jisung with the cheeky smile, law student Seungmin with the puppy-eyes and an acidic tongue, Changbin with his almost flawlessly built body (you always paused for a second to admire his physique) and Minho, the guy who for some ominous reason always had bruised knuckles.

“Y/N! Hey!” Jeongin exclaimed, eyes brightening up in an endearing smile. “Hey Innie,” you grinned, happy to see another familiar face in the junior from the same major as you. “Yes yes hello and all that, Innie,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, ignoring the look of mock offense he got from Jeongin. “I brought Y/N to meet Chan, coz he’s new to the frat, and my favorite sorority girl should be the first to know about the new fish.”

He threw an arm out, pointing to one of the guys leaning against the railing of the terrace, all smiles and black hair. You extended your own smile towards him, already giving him a casual once over- He wasn’t too tall, with impeccably built shoulders in a muscle top….wait. The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Are you the weirdo that goes skateboarding at midnight?”

A pause rippled across everybody in the circle, the smile on Chan’s face reducing to an incredulous splutter as Jisung choked on a giggle- that did it. All of the guys dissolved into peals of laughter, loud and unrestrained.

“Sorry about that,” You said, letting out an embarrassed sigh as you stepped around the circle to get closer to Chan. “I’ve seen you in the skate park when I’m getting back after work.”

He shrugged, his handsome features still splashed with sheepishness. “It’s fine, it was just a matter of time, I guess.” Over the laughter, you could hear how smooth his voice was, like melting chocolate.

“If it counts for anything, I thought you’re really good at it.” You weren’t the beat around the bush with your words. “You made it look so easy.”

A light blush reddened his ears as he grinned at the compliment. “Thanks.. Y/N, was it?”

You spent the rest of the night with the boys, caught in easy banter- but particularly, you got to know Chan. He had been living off campus until he’d decided to apply for the fraternities on a whim, ending up with an acceptance to Alpha phi Alpha. He was a business major, with a creative minor in music producing- just like Changbin. He was a natural extrovert, effortless with conversation and people skills, a man married to his work-to the point that he regularly lost sleep over it. He was also a bit of a dork, you noticed, with his random bursts of exaggerated hand movements and lame jokes.

The sun was beginning to rise when you decided to get back home. “It was nice getting to know you, Channie,” you grinned, pulling him into an easy hug and pecking his cheek.

“Likewise, Y/N.” He smiled his captivating smile at you, before walking you to the frat house door. “Before I go, what do you say about exchanging numbers?” You asked. He was a good sort, the kind of guy who’d make a really good friend. Why not?

Chan agreed amicably and sent you off with promises to catch up soon, leaving you feeling light and happy.

To your surprise, he ended up dropping by your sorority the very next morning, asking if you were up for waffles at a nearby café. You happened to be awake at the time and decided to tag along with him- even though it was 6 in the morning.

“The guys refuse to wake up early and join me,” he complained, holed up in the café with plates of waffles and orange juice in front of you. “Chan, be honest,” You chuckled. “The only reason we’re awake at ass o’ clock is because both of us can’t sleep to save our lives.” He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Stop wise cracking and get on eating, Y/N.”

That café run cemented your day-old friendship into one of peaceful camaraderie, a safe space for each other within the chaos of your friend circles.

//

Winter melted slowly into spring, bringing tidings of new beginnings, assignment and semester exams and subsequently, end of semester parties. As always, Alpha phi Alpha was throwing a rager of a party that was expected to be the best all semester.  Your entire sorority had received invitations and were all excited to drown out the stress of exams week. You, on the other hand, were also thinking about something else. Someone, rather-Chan.

You and Chan had only grown close over the course of the past months,  gradually bonding over ungodly morning cafe runs, late night texts between breaks and video calls asking for outfit opinions.

You frequented the frat house more often, a fact that Hyunjin rejoiced (and teased you relentlessly) over. Chaeyoung only gazed at you with a suggestive look in her eyes when you slipped into the room at 2 a.m in the morning with one of Chan’s many black hoodies hanging off your shoulders. What, it was winter, it was cold on your way back from Imperium and he offered! Chan, to his credit, seemed to be just as invested in this newly growing friendship as you were. He walked you back from Imperium whenever he was at the skatepark, invited you on his midnight skate runs,  even almost breaking his arm trying to teach you how to balance on his skateboard.

It was an outlet for his energy, he explained one day. Sometimes working on music or going on a run didn’t give him the same sense of calm that skateboarding did. It wasn’t about the attention for him- with Chan, it almost never was. Not surprisingly, you liked that about him.  You liked Chan, for all his insomniac, stress skateboarding, black hoodie hoarding self.

The party was already in full swing when you and Chaeyoung knocked on the main door. One of the frat boys you didn’t know opened the door, smirking at you before yelling over his shoulder. “Yo, Chan, your girl’s here!”

Your eyes widened, exchanging an amused glance with Chae, who was openly laughing at your expression. Chan’s girl? Not that you hated the sound of that.. But you were just a friend- a friend who had a crush on him.. Right??

Chan hurried to the door that very instant, shoo-ing his frat brother off. “Sorry about that,” he murmured , exchanging hugs and cheek kisses with you and Chae. “To the usual spot?” he grinned, comically offering you his arm.

“Of course, my dearest,” you gushed, the two of you bursting into a fit of giggles as you linked your arm with his, allowing Chan to steer you towards the staircase leading up to the terrace. Once on the rooftop, you were met with a familiar sight- 7 boys giggling and talking amongst themselves in a loose circle near the railing. “Chan, don’t hog all of Y/N’s attention, she’s here for the party, you know?” Jisung called out the second he spotted the two of you heading towards them.

Amidst a gale of laughter, Chan frowned indignantly, opening his mouth to give Jisung a tongue lashing before you broke in, a sly smile stamped across your own face. “Who says I’d mind it??”

A chaotic chorus of 7 male voices responding to you had you laughing aloud, scanning Chan’s face for any discomfort. But he only had flaming ears, shifty eyes,  and a shy smile trained on you- a smile that shifted from shy to teasing in split seconds.

“If that’s the case, then I’m stealing Y/N for the night, you guys!” He declared, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the door the two of you had just walked through. “Chan, what are you doing?” You breathed out in amusement, not pulling your hand away. Your heart was beating out of your chest at everything going on, especially with Chan’s warm hand enclosing yours and the way he’d just smiled at you-

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a while now,” Chan’s voice was exactly as you knew it, smooth, warm melted chocolate. “Come with me to the skatepark. Just for a while.” Who were you to say no to that voice?

//

Chaeyoung opened the door to the sorority early next morning, squawking in laughter when she saw who stood in front of her. You in Chan’s hoodie, your hand in his, your lipstick staining the side of Chan’s jaw and the kicker- you hugging Chan, quickly landing a soft kiss on his lips before skipping into the house.

Chaeyoung could only look at the adoring look on Chan’s face as you disappeared into the house and close the door, laughing quietly.  Ah, young love.