#classes all at one big chunk in the beginning of the week
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settling into a new schedule, probably will be a while before i can be more active again
#classes all at one big chunk in the beginning of the week#so when its done im just too Exhausted to do anything else#BUT!! im learning how to play piano. ive always wanted to. and they let me borrow a keyboard to practice on#so im having a lot of fun with that. i hope i end up at a point i can share something of it on here
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Femme Fatale Guide: Habits To Become Your Best Self In 2023
Some habits, routine ideas, and mindset shifts to help make 2023 your best year yet. Hope this helps and inspires you to reach your goals for the next 12 months. Remember to work hard and take care of yourself. Once you put your mind to it, the sky is the limit! xx
Make Your Meals Plant-Based & Produce-Focused: Center your meals around a variety of vegetables, fruits, plant proteins, potatoes, and unprocessed plant-based fats (avocado, nuts, seeds) and minimal whole grains.
Get Creative With Stress Eating Substitutions: Discover healthy swaps for your meals and snacks to ensure what you're eating without sacrificing your goals. Some simple substitutes include mixing in cauliflower rice into your whole grain rice to add nutrients/volume while slashing the calories, using half an avocado with lemon as a salad dressing over spoonfuls of olive oil, swapping meat for lentils in a chill, soups, or stir fry, choosing frozen grapes or whipped bananas with berries over candy or ice cream for a sweet treat, etc. Remember: Spices and seasoning are your best friends.
Be Mindful of Your Beverage Consumption: Consuming enough water is essential. However, if you get bored with water, add some herbal and black tea, black coffee, or fruit-filled water into the mix. Cinnamon, vanilla, and apple or peach teas are great options to satisfy cravings and prevent mindless snacking (not a substitute for food – eat if you're genuinely hungry). For the winter season, try using some pure cocoa powder with hot water, vanilla extract, and a tablespoon or two of plant-based milk for a healthy hot cocoa drink.
Prioritize Long Walks: Carve out 1-2 hours of your day to get 10-12K steps in at least 5 days a week. Go outside if possible or jump on a treadmill/walking pad to get in some movement while watching TV, talking on the phone, or catching up on some emails.
Find A Simple Resistance Workout You Love: Yoga, pilates, or an at-home weight-training or body-weight exercise you can do at home. Browse different YouTube videos for 10-30 minute workouts to try or sign up for a class in your local area to make it a more social experience (and force yourself to take accountability to show up in the first place).
Create Short & Long "Bookend" Routines: Create a simple routine for the beginning and end of the task-filled portion of your day. For most of us, these routines would be done in the morning and evening/at night before and after work, school, or doing chores/errands. Let go of the rigid idea that these routines need to be done at certain times of the day. Set yourself up to win and tailor them to your schedule. Consider these short routines (like drinking a cup of coffee/tea, reading, meditation, journaling, a walk, or a short dancing session) your warm-up and cool-down sessions of the day. Having these rituals to look forward to will give you the energy and motivation to do what you need to get done each day.
Practice This 10-10-10 Mindfulness Practice: Make time for at least 10 pages of reading, 10 minutes of meditation, and 10 minutes of journaling daily (This can include shadow work) either in the morning or nighttime to clear and reset your mindset for the day.
Take An Hour To Plan Out Your Week: It's most convenient to do this power hour on a weekend (I typically reserve an hour before dinner on Sunday for weekly planning). Write out all of your main work tasks, schedule any due date reminders (for work, bills, chores, and other life necessities), must-do errands, emails and calls or appointments to make, etc.). I like using the Productivity Planner from Intelligent Change and my Reminders app/Google calendar via iCloud to sync deadlines and times to schedule messages/tasks/bills, so everything will be in front of me at the correct time throughout the week.
Prioritize 1-3 Tasks Daily: You might need to choose one large project to work on in small chunks or select a "Big 3" for the day, depending on how complex, lengthy, and time-consuming your projects/errands or appointments are for the day. Using this method allows you to be efficient, streamline your life, and feel productive without overwhelming yourself on the regular (the fastest route to burnout).
Make A Life Admin Schedule (and Stick To It): Choose days (and times if possible) of the week to update certain spreadsheets, batch reply to less urgent messages, clean your house, do laundry, grocery shop, etc. Scheduling these tasks ahead of time eliminates half of the battle for following through on what you need to do. Eventually, you will make these tasks into habitual routines that your brain will allow you to execute effortlessly as though you're in autopilot mode.
Mind Your "Circle of Influence": Do an intake on the 5-10 people you speak to the most or value in your life. If you're an employee, it is probably best to not include your boss or coworkers in this consideration list, as you need to work amicably with them regardless of your personal feelings. Look how you feel during your interactions with your friends, family, intimate partner, or an adjacent love interest. Consider how they speak to you, about themselves, and the topics your conversations are focused around. See if they align with the person you want to be and your goals. Evaluate how close you want to be and what parts of your life you think would be the most beneficial for you and the relationship going into 2023.
Set Boundaries: Understand your expectations, non-negotiables, and limits in every area of your life. Communicate these principles to others clearly, so they know when they are overstepping. Don't tolerate disrespect, but also don't expect others to be mind-readers. If someone knows that they're crossing your boundaries, it is easy to draw the line in the sand and walk away without the guilt or shame that can arise when conflicts originate from a lack of healthy communication.
Incorporate One Creative Practice Into Your Week: Reinvigorate your mind by engaging in at least one hour of creative activity per week. Try drawing, creative writing, poetry, singing, dancing, painting, pottery, jewelry making, graphic design, photography, etc. Even taking a foreign language course or creating a Pinterest inspiration/mood board or organizing your home/closets in an aesthetically-pleasing way counts. Figure out what creative outlet(s) you find satisfying. Prioritize scheduling this practice into your schedule weekly.
Refine Your Signature Look: Edit your wardrobe, try out a new haircut, or change up your makeup routine, nail color, or signature scent. Consider how you can close any gaps between your authentic personal style and how you present yourself on a day-to-day basis. Create an inspiration board if needed to help yourself define your unique aesthetic and gradually work towards embodying your ideal look.
Keep A "Praise" Archive: Create a record of all of the messages you receive highlighting your achievements, milestones, recognitions, or compliments. Compile a folder that acts as your "praise" archive for every area of your life. Create a folder in your work email inbox to save all of your professional achievements, praise, and positive contributions. Do the same for your personal email. Create a folder in your photo album of screenshotted texts. Keep a running list on your "Notes" app of any compliments you receive on your conversational contributions, actions, attire, personality, smile, etc. Hyping yourself up to connect to your highest self.
Create A "Siren" Kit: Take note of all of the clothing, scents, songs, cosmetics, phrases, people, and other aspects of your environment that empower you to feel your sexiest. Keep all of these items/songs/texts together to make it simple to set the mood before engaging in some indulgent action or revisit when you need a boost of confidence throughout your week.
Do A Financial Audit: Create an income/expenses spreadsheet to understand your current spending behavior and budgeting plan going forward. Set up your 2023 financial goals and projections, including target amounts for income, savings, and investments.
Give Yourself A Weekly "Treat": Find a healthy indulgence that you can strategically incorporate into your week. This "treat" can be a massage or nail appointment, permission to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a TV show, a serving of your favorite dessert or a glass of wine, etc. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Consider regular indulgence as an act of self-care not as a sign of weakness or self-destruction. Embracing pleasure does not require guilt or external permission.
Happy New Year, loves! Cheers to an abundant 2023 xx
#femme fatale#dark femininity#dark feminine energy#the feminine urge#it girl#dream girl#queen energy#high value woman#high value mindset#goal setting#success mindset#loa#loa success#female excellence#female power#femmefatalevibe
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BUCKET LIST ☆ 11
He's been avoiding you.
Kusuo Saiki, the one who has been attached to you by the hip, not willingly but forcefully, is avoiding you. The one who has been obsessively worried about you for the past few weeks, is avoiding you. The boy who you claim as your best friend and you really hope he sees you in the same light, is avoiding you.
You've been ripping out your hair is frustration, looking for opportunities to swoop in and apologize to Saiki but anytime he even sees a glimpse of you, he turns the other way. Even at the cafeteria table, it is so painfully obvious he avoids eye contact with you even though you sit across from him. He’s so good at making you feel like you never mattered to him.
You sit slumped up on your chair, twirling your pencil between your fingers as you bore your eyes on Saiki’s face. He is looking straight toward the board and tapping his fingertips on the desk, like he did back in the hospital three days ago.
Wait .. has it been three days since he’s been ignoring you? There is no way, he couldn’t go longer than three days can he? You did not know Saiki was so stubborn, but then again it made sense. Hiding your condition from him has only made things worse, and you’re honestly thinking if you should just tell him. It’s not like you’re dying, right? No, of course not. It won’t hurt to tell him, knowing your illness is pretty neutral in severance. Or that is what your doctor told you. Although, you can feel your symptoms worsening. The bruises have multiplied and honestly, it’s disheartening to see how they go from purple to yellow tints. You have been taking your pills and supplements, but what good is it if you’re still losing chunks of thinning hair? You’ll have to take blood tests again in order to figure if your anemia is getting better. Being fatigued and in risk of bleeding to death? Not so bad. That is what you think.
You rip a piece of notebook paper and write down in big lettering, “can we talk? :(“. You make sure to add that frowny face at the end to ensure that his heart will at least waver a bit. You wait until the teacher has her back to the class and slip the paper onto his desk. You smile awkwardly as he pauses for a second, and you feel hope as he picks it up and reads it. Your heart skips a beat and you lean forward to see his reaction. He turns his head and stares at you with such piercing eyes it could've stabbed you right in the heart. He scrumbles up the paper in his palm and throws it at the space between your eyebrows with accuracy. You tilt your head back in surprise, a faint "What?" coming out of your mouth as the paper falls to your feet. Saiki side eyes you with obvious anger radiating off his body. He then focuses on the teacher upfront, scribbling in his notebook.
You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, did he really ignore you? Your lip begins to tremble and you just hope you don't start weeping like a baby during class. You clench your fists and slump in your seat, glancing at the clock and seeing the end of the day is coming soon.
As soon as the teacher dismisses the class, Saiki shoves all his materials inside his backpack. You hover over his desk, words struggling to come up from your throat. He gets up and almost bumps heads with you, he visibly sighs and roughly brushes shoulders with you. You look back with a swift movement of your head, seeing him walk out and ignoring Nendou and Kaidou who attempted to talk to him.
Kaidou notices you standing with defeat, and walks over to you with a concerned look. "Why is he upset?" Kaidou pleads with puppy eyes and all, his hand reaching up and resting on your shoulder. You shake your head in hesitation, feeling your throat drying up.
"I'm not sure .. I think I'm going to go to walk home alone okay?" You inform, staring down at the ground as speeding out of the class as quickly as possible. You hear Nendou and Kaidou call out your name but you decide to ignore them. You need time to organize your emotions.
The way home was pretty fast, as your steps quicken as every feeling in your body seems to get worse. You fall onto the pavement in front of the door to your house, wincing as the cement scrapes up your knees in small cuts. You struggle to sit up right, putting a hand to your chest and having trouble breathing.
Panic attack? No way..
You look up to the sky and see the clouds gathering up, a disgusting color of gray splattered over. You feel a tightening sensation in your throat and begin choking up. Gasping for air, you go on your knees and hands. You begin seeing blurriness and smushed colors.
"Kusuo" You manage to choke out. Your desperation for air increases as you genuinely start feeling yourself hyperventilate. You crawl onto the clean cut grass, falling to your side and a knot in your stomach appears to twist. You push your knees up to your chest, attempting to take control of your breathing. The blurriness of vision still remains. Your thoughts are absolutely scrambled right now and everything seems to be spinning. Your heart is completely racing and you are trembling.
You stay still for what seems an eternity. The anxiety running through your veins as you try to focus on the flowers sprouting across the front yard. You gasp, the sensations of your body parts coming back. Your eyes try to decipher the objects in front of you and you realize you can see clearly now. You take deep breaths and making sure it reaches the end of your ribs. Sitting straight up on the itchy grass, you place your arms in your lap. You stare straight on, realizing something that gave you a fuzzy feeling.
You said Saiki's first name.
Well, that's normal right? In a moment of desperation, you called out his name as if he would come help you. He's your best friend so it only makes sense? So nothing else would be rational. It's not like you think of him in a different way.. right?
You reach inside your backpack and take out the Peter Pan book that Saiki had annotated for you. You flip through the pages, noticing how his handwriting went from neat to messier as each page went. Did he really read this in one sitting?
A smile creeps up onto your face, seeing the mini sketches he did on the sides. A two headed bunny, a pink cow and a person.. who oddly looks like you. Your smile falls as soon as you realize you are enjoying this way too much.
"Ah! Y/n get it together!". You get on your feet and slide the window open to your house. The front door is jammed, pretty inconvenient huh? You plop down on the couch, racking your brain as to what you are going to do about the silly boy you call your friend.
You get what he is mad, it all makes sense. It must be frustrating seeing your best friend who you just met four months ago rapidly becoming sick. It's not like its a terminal illness, or so thats what your doctor says. You actually have an appointment tomorrow and hopefully your blood tests came out well. It won't turn out bad, you know it won't.
☆
You stand in front of the clinic you have been going to for the past nine months. Since last night, you could not shake off the nervous feeling that something bad might happen. I mean already being diagnosed with this illness was a hit to the head. The doctor had told you that you're not at a severe stage right now. So, you shouldn't be worried, right?
You breathe out, a puff of cold air visible in front of you. Sitting in the lobby always gave you the worst rollercoaster of emotions. It was mostly middle aged to older people that you encountered in this lobby. You are quite young and experiencing such a crisis ? It's unfair and you start to think wow, I have the worst luck.
"Y/n?".
You break away from your thoughts and see the same doctor assistant as always. His name is Sato? You're not sure, you never really paid attention to anything as you were always worried things have gotten worse. You flash him a faint smile and follow him into the brightly lit room.
After endless questions, he leaves and you patiently wait for Suzuki to come in. You actually remember your doctors name since she has freakishly long hair that you wish you had. You hear the door creak and she comes in, her hair waving side to side. Your mouth twitches in jealously, leaning against the seat and smiling in a fake manner.
"What's up?" You question in curiosity, and see a thick pile of papers in her hands. You tilt your head in slight confusion, usually she only has five or so papers clutched in her hands. Now, its much more than that. You hold up your finger and aim it towards her, you utter a terrified "Uhm".
"Listen Y/n, your blood tests show uhm.. worsening of your symptoms and I think.." She trails off, her eyes shifting to the ground.
"You think what?" You ask breathlessly, your breath hitching in your throat as she offers you a dreadful look.
"I think your condition is turning critical, well it is critical and I think we need to put you in intensive care".
You shake your head and you feel your body beginning to tremble. You point at her in a rude manner, your words coming out slurred and incoherent.
"You will not! And I mean it when I say you will not put me in there, I am not that sick!". You're now desperately jabbing your own finger at yourself, tears running down your cheeks. You took all those pills and supplements everyday .. for nothing? You did what the doctor told you to do and yet you got worse?
You drop to the floor, grabbing fistfuls in your hair and hiccuping on your tears. She kneels down and pats your head lightly.
"I'll leave you alone for a bit, I'll be back and we can decide something together okay?". She quietly closes the door behind you. Scooting up to the corner of the room, you push your knees up to your chest and sob uncontrollably.
"Kusuo" You cry out, punching a fist into your chest as you wish your best friend was here.
You need him and he's not here with you now, you really hate how attached you got to him. He's everything you needed in your life as your parents never were home. You really need Saiki right now.
"Kusuo" You whisper, tracing lines onto the walls. You feel your fingers shake as you begin to stare into the void.
"Please forgive me".
#kusuo saiki#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k#saiki kusuo x reader fanfic#saiki x reader#saiki kusuo x reader#kusuo saiki x reader#saiki x reader fanfic
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friend I remember you from Instagram tell me about your robot game pleaseeeeee
My robot game!!
Scrapped was originally something I made for some art history kinda class (not the game history class, but we did look at games and other media in it. But was the same teacher as the game history. She’s a prick)
The final project was to make just. Anything based on one of the topics we discussed in class. So I decided to make a loose game concept based around general overconsumption, and the weird need in capitalism to constantly buy the newest products that normally lose their quality and break faster an faster.
So for the first concept sketches made, two versions of the same robot were made, the boxy lookin thing that’s got an assortment of mixed parts. Then the sleek round robot, with all the uniform parts you’d expect to see on every other version of its model. Think Wall-e and Eve The "box robots", B0N-1X // B0N-X1 [Bonix // Bonxi]
The idea was that the player would be offered two paths of either scrambling around for loose scrap they’d find in the environment or would get by breaking down the glunk bots (small npc bots), and trading the scrap in for cash in order to buy whichever upgrades needed when a part broke.
Or to take the path where the player can level up their skills and learn to just fix themselves when damaged, being able to level up through fixing up the same glunk bots that you could destroy for a quick coin.
(I ended up just making an essay for that history class, cause as I said the teacher was a prick and I just wanted a decent grade then making another game I actively enjoyed and worked hard on just to get another C on. Still bitter about that)
The only other character in that original group of sketches was Veldrin, who was just “the shopkeeper robot who teaches the player how to fix things” for the longest time. (Wanted to make big ol burly robot with the animated dad moustache) I also gave him a cat cause it’s kinda fun to have this big gruff ol guy and to give them the tinniest lil pet. As said, the cats name is Rob, and Veldri n named the shop after her (Robo n Robs Bits n Bobs). Hes honestly the character I’ve developed the most out of everyone.
that's most of the beginning stuff I made for this game. I've since developed more characters and story behind them. Gave Bonix a proper reason to their character, and why you're able to upgrade them as easily as you can as the player.
Largely because of how my classes were structured last year, a good chunk of recent development was focused on the environment of the game and more with world building. [most of my classes were environment illustration, this year is character design though, so we'll see what happens.]
took my time to reaspond to this, but it lined up with being posted for robot week! and I call that a win.
#answering the thoughts#fitzs art#Scrapped! Robot Game#Scrapped#also happy robot week!#go watch addex bones#Scrapped: Robot Game
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Professor Neil (sneak peek)
I missed the guy and WIP Wednesday this week brought him back up so here's a lil gift for @jtl-fics for being amazing and closing on a condo today!!
(Snippet includes part of the WIP Wednesday piece in the beginning)
September 16, 2008 (Tuesday)
Tuesday was probably Neil’s favorite day of the week. He only had two classes in the morning and both were lectures that he didn’t mind sitting in. After his lectures, he always went to the small coffee shop that didn’t even serve good coffee, but it was cheap and it was routine. Routines helped and kept him focused. Besides, the coffee shop was the only one that hadn’t tried to demand proof of papers for his service dog. One would think that the prosthetic leg would be proof enough but Neil clearly overestimated the mental capacity of most people.
Armed with subpar coffee and a warm bagel, Neil made his way to the library. The main floor was a communal hub, with no volume limits and plenty of chairs and couches for people to sit on. Tucked on the left side was an open room full of tables, the tutoring center. The woman behind the desk smiled as Neil walked up and wrote down his arrival in a notebook. Neil liked tutoring oddly enough, he didn’t care much for the people, but he enjoyed the subjects and the feeling of someone understanding a difficult concept was hard to beat.
A good chunk of the people who frequented the tutoring center were those who were on big time scholarships and unwilling to risk a dropping a point in the GPA. Hyped up on coffee, Neil often had to fight them away from his preferred table. The largest portion however, were the athletes. All required to maintain a minimum of a 2.3 to play for the NCAA Division 1 league. Neil tutored football players, soccer stars, and dancers every day. For most, as long as they went to their classes and didn’t fail any exams, it was an easy gig. Five hours a week in the tutoring center was a easy gig.
The Exy team was no exception.
Neil had started tutoring Matt Boyd last year, the tall man hopeless with his French courses. His pronunciation was leaps and bounds better, and the backliner was steadily maintaining a passing grade in the class. Languages were difficult for athletes who traveled almost weekly for games.
Thankfully, there was no one at the table Neil had claimed as his own. Despite the years of therapy he still took a table in the back of the room. There were other reasons, which his therapist had been good to point out, the fact that being further back in the room kept his dog focused on the task. Babe Ruth was a large golden retriever who seemed to forget that he had an additional appendage attached to his rump. The dogs tail was a weapon, thumbing hard enough against a leg to leave bruises. It was a disappointing scenario, considering Babe Ruth walk to the right side of Neil—tail smacking against his good leg. At the table, Neil took care to sit with his back to the side wall rather than the back. It was the little things, his reminded himself mentally. By now, his voice in the tutoring center was easily ignored as he commanded Babe Ruth to lay at his feet. The dog wasted no time, flopping onto the hard carpet and splaying out his limbs.
Neil checked his watch, Matt would be arriving in a few minutes. He always came right after his French class. Neil had managed to arrive a little early, so he went ahead and pulled out the workbook and folder that they’ve been using over the semester. This was their fourth meeting and already Neil liked how they were able to review the French that had just been covered in Matt’s class. He made a mental reminder to email his thanks to the French Professor, she’d been helpful in sending Neil her presentations for the classes.
#aftg#all for the game#andreil#andreil fanfic#andrew minyard#neil josten#pint writes#pints wips#professor neil#professor neil josten au#prof neil prequel#service dog#neil has only one leg#I stole it#dont worry there's another teachers AU called neil but with both legs in my docs#I just love this lil guy
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HP: Forbidden - Chapter Two
Click here for masterlist
Parings: George Weasley x Female OC (Slytherin)
Description:
Rosalie Riddle lives in the shadow of her father, going to Hogwarts made her feel safe and happy and when she meets George Weasley she feels a whole new emotion. Follow her story from the beginning of her Hogwarts Journey.
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Can fluff be a warning? Little bit of angst. Fred still dies, sorry.
P.s. So this is a rewrite from a fanfiction I originally wrote when I was roughly 16. It was awful, truly awful, but I adored the story so I decided to rewrite it ten years later. Enjoy.
It had been two weeks since I started Hogwarts, and I had more homework than I ever thought possible. My lessons were wonderful, everything about magic was amazing, and I wanted to learn everything I possibly could.
Draco and I were neck and neck for second highest in our classes, however, unfortunately, Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor beat us at literally everything, except flying, and that's when Harry Potter beat us.
I didn't let that bring me down though, secretly, I had nothing against Hermione, she seemed nice enough. Despite trying my hardest in all my classes, that didn't stop me from being late to a good chunk of my classes. The school was so big, I often felt like I was wandering in circles, and the older kids avoided me nearly as much as most the kids in my own year.
"Why are you late Miss Riddle?" Professor Snape snapped at me as I rushed into my Potions classroom. I felt my cheeks redden, I had met Snape before, he was one of the nicer people following my father. But at school, he pretended he had never met me.
"Sorry sir, I got lost" I answered, trying my hardest to make it sound like my voice wasn't shaking, he didn't respond, thankfully, so I walked towards my seat on the Slytherin side of the classroom.
"Pull out your books, we will be studying the Cure of Boils Potion" Professor Snape explained "I want you all the read the potion until you can tell me it from memory"
We all listened, the classroom was quiet, I opened my Potions book and started reading, carefully trying to remember each step. Honestly, my mind was somewhere else, I wanted to visit the owlery today, so I could send an update letter to Alecto, she was the main Death Eater who raised me... She likes to know how I'm doing, despite how horrid she is to me at times, I think she secretly cared. Probably not, but I still wanted to keep in touch.
Once Potions class was over, we had a small break in between our next class, which was flying, with the Gryffindors.
"Rose, are you coming?" Daphne asked, Pansy by her side.
"Not yet, I'm heading to the owlery" I smiled, and waved them off.
"What are you sending home?" Suddenly a voice asked, I turned around to see Potter and Weasley, they hated me, and weren't afraid to let me know either.
"Why do you care?" I snap, rolling my eyes at them.
"Trying to contact your father?" Weasley snapped back at me, I walked off without saying another word. What should it matter if I was sending messages to my father, it wasn't like he could read them anyway, he probably wouldn't care to talk to me either. It's not like I had ever met the guy.
Frowning still, I climbed the stairs to the top of the owlery, I shivered a little, it was starting to get chilly. I had decided I loved the cold of Scotland's air, and I was very excited for what christmas could be like.
I reached the top and smiled, there were so many owls, there was also two other students, two ginger boys who looked a lot like Weasley.
"Hellooo" One of them said, when they noticed me.
"Who are you?" The other one asked, they were twins, I looked from one to the other, strangely I could see a few slight differences.
"Rosalie" I mumbled in response, I took the letter from my robe pocket, and handed it to a random owl.
"Take this this Riddle Manor please" I tired to say quietly, if the two boys were indeed related to Ron Weasley, they would probably be rude to me too, and I honestly didn't have the energy in me to deal with that.
"Riddle?" Like Voldemort?" One of them spoke, I closed my eyes and sighed, here we go.
"Yes that's right" And then I bolted, luckily they didn't follow me down the stairs, so I sped to the Quidditch field. I saw Pansy and Daphne. I rushed to them, and our lesson began a few minutes after.
We still weren't allowed to do much in the way of flying, only hovering off the ground and moving around mostly. It was a bit boring to me, I must admit, flying just didn't appeal to me, I liked things that I could read about, and flying is one of those things where you learn by doing.
Whilst hovering, us Slytherins took to having conversations, Madam Hooch, mostly paid attention to Harry, thinking he would be the next big thing.
"Are you going home for the holidays?" Draco asked me, I shook my head.
"Unfortunately I will be" I answered
"Maybe I can join my father in coming to Riddle Manor, keep you company" He smiled.
"I'd love that" I smiled back, maybe this holiday wouldn't be completely awful then.
Once the lesson was over, we all rushed happily to lunch, I think the meals here were my favourite thing ever, I even thought about buying cooking books, so when I did have to go home, I could make meals like this for myself.
I'm sure the house elves wouldn't mind.
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Addie mysteriously disappearing every Wednesday morning. Early.🤔
She leaves and comes back hours later looking exhausted, but happy with endorphins, and her hair is always damp. And she always takes a gym bag.
The girls eventually get curious and ask questions about the gym Addie is going to. After all, it must be a gym right? All the clues are there.
Addie tells them and they ask if they can come see the place. At this point, they're all still looking for a gym. Addie says it's a "plus-size" gym meant to encourage people trying to lose weight to go and make them feel safe and free from judgement as they begin and travel their weight loss journey. It's not necessarily that the girls wouldn't be welcome, it's just that they might make the other patrons of the gym uncomfortable.
"Oh. Well, that makes sense and seems reasonable. Sounds great! Just let us know if you ever need a lift or anything. You seem to be enjoying it."
"I really am! It's so much fun and I've met some amazing people."
But as the weeks go on, the girls catch Addie coming home a few times wearing something completely different than she left in for the gym. They start to smell something fishy. But when they try to question Addie, she always deflects and weasels out of answering. Eventually the girls decide to find out for themselves. The next Wednesday available, they all carefully follow Addie to her "gym".
Actually it is a gym and not a "gym" and the gym is plus-sized. But Addie's not in the gym, even though they saw her walk in the front door. "That cutie always heads upstairs," the front desk manager tells them after they show him a picture of Addie.
Turns out, there's a dance studio above the gym, and Addie has dance classes every Wednesday morning. And she actually really, really good! The girls are amazed when they slip in, in the back and catch her doing an intense duet routine for a cameraman (yes, this studio has a YouTube channel).
When Addie finally notices they're there, she is completely embarrassed and ashamed. "I'm sorry for keeping secrets! I know that's not what a good housemate and friend does. But I was just so scared you'd laugh!"
"Honey, why would you think we'd laugh?"
"Because chunky girls like me can't be real dancers."
"Well, clearly they can be, as you just showcased!"
"She's one of our stars on our channel," the dance instructor praises her with a beaming grin. "Every one of our subscribers loves her. She's an inspiration to a lot of people to follow their dreams."
And that's how Addie ends up also being a YouTube sensation like her cousin. And also how the girls start taking dance classes every Wednesday morning with Addie leading the way.
OOOOH ADDIEEEEEE.
I love this! Her finding this hobby through fitness that she loves and excels at is so empowering! Then to be good enough to be a dancer showcased on a studio's social media ... GIRL. That's impressive!
I love the girls sleuthing out what's happening - not in an invasive way, but a curious one! They're seeing a close friend/family member obviously spending a large chunk of time somewhere. They're curious, of course!
Not only are they so proud of her, but she inspires them to join her and learn dance skills! That's a big deal. All the ladies are kind of in these liminal transitional periods, trying to find a place, and this is another way for them to come together and support one another. Girls supporting girls.
It becomes a sacred bonding ritual, and you KNOW when those routine videos of hers go online and are uploaded, the girls all sit down with popcorn and wine to watch it. It's like a watch premiere, and they amp her up the whole time.
The bond these ladies have is so pure, sacred and wholesome.
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This reminds me how almost as soon as he got it, my brother lost his class ring while walking to the swamp. He rushed back and we got out our two metal detectors, all of helping hunt. The ring was never found. I had already learned by then, usually the hard way, to never wear jewelry in the woods. Or the fields. Or out in the shop. Or swimming. Or at the river. Or to the beach. Or on the mountain. Or cooking. Or…. Well, basically, anywhere but the most sedate of indoor life.
And even then you can lose things. When I was a teenager I lost my beloved ankh (I’d been wearing it constantly since I was 6 or 7) and the Kennedy Center amulet I had on the chain with it, and I didn’t even leave my bedroom. I was twirling it on my finger when it flew off. I saw exactly where it flew, but couldn’t find it. Literally decades of hunting, including removing everything from that room, and I STILL haven’t found it. Stupid dimensional rift opening up! I hope a me in some other universe found it.
Just a couple weeks ago I was reminded why I don’t wear jewelry. I’ve gotten so I was wearing a ring or two on shopping days or on special occasions, but I had a rule to take them off the second I got home before the hazards of my lifestyle could do them in. Unfortunately that day I was really hungry and got fixing supper. Wham! I hit my ring on the edge of the microwave and a chunk of the silver decoration framing the garnet broke right off!!!
None of my jewelry in valuable, because why buy gold or fancy jewels when you can buy books? Well, that and what would be the purpose. None of it is about fashion, because I never have any chance to be seen wearing it. It’s memories, gifts, things connected to people or places, things that I just thought looked cool or connected with me. All of it is loved and treasured far too much to risk losing and/or breaking.
I actually love jewelry. I take them out of the boxes I stash them in, sigh over them, fantasize about having an occasion to wear them, try them on, then put them away for another six months or year or whatever.
My parents were married for over fifty years, but neither of them wore wedding rings. Pop had our fiberglassing business, but that doesn’t begin to hint all the hands on work he did. All kinds of power tools, construction style jobs, things you would consider forestry work, building, making, hobbies that included lots of getting your hands dirty… I really can’t begin to describe the stuff Pop’s hands went through. ** He had worn through his ring at least a decade before I was born, and Mom had done the same with hers soon after.
In fact, Mom just wore a series of cheap little rings in place of hers because it was expected to have one. She and Pop didn’t need the symbol between themselves, their love being unshakable, but she had a job with a lot of contact with people. Wearing a ring meant less annoying questions, wild gossip, and getting hit on.
When she retired a ring was just as impractical as it was for Pop, so she stopped. Well, until Pop died. Then she wore her grandmother’s ring because she wanted people to know she considered herself just as married to Pop until she dies too. My parents were rather epically bonded***, to say the least.
Anyway, some lives, or maybe people, are too rough and tumble for jewelry. And by “some” I mean me.
I see people wearing rings on several fingers, necklaces, jangly bracelets, earrings swinging about on their ears, dainty little nose rings sparkling, and it often looks cool. Sooooo cool. Still, I find myself wondering how they manage it. Don’t they use their hands? Don’t they ever get all mucky? Don’t they go places where they could catch on their jewelry? Do they never go outside??? Our lives are so different I must be like another species entirely.
Ah well, what do you expect from me. I’m a feral beastie raised by wolves!!!****
** Pop had incredible, powerful hands. We were the same height, but his hands were literally twice as big as mine. They were so callused he could handle things that would burn anyone else. These were strong hands with a grip you wouldn’t believe, but capable of the most incredible delicacy. You should have seen the detail work he could do. I miss those hands so much. I wish I had thought to take pics of them.
***It’s lovely but horrible too, having parents that come about as humanly possible to a “true love” out of fiction. Best friends to lovers is a thing. It’s wonderful never having any doubt about your parent’s adoring, trusting, and respecting each other. It’s also terrible, because from young childhood you believe that’s how love works. (There is a reason I saw my parents as Gomez and Morticia…the only “realistic” pop culture marriage I saw as a kid) It sets expectations of romance that makes it difficult. It’s like my parents won the romantic lottery and my brain kept expecting me to as well.
**** Family joke. Our name is “Wolfe” so we often pointed out we were raised by wolves when our oddness was mentioned.
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Part 5 was amazing bestie!!!! It was so good, I can’t! I was very excited to read how their date would go and it really didn’t disappoint. Loved how they needed to talk somethings out and I thought Harry asking the big question “why” was very fitting! It happened out of nowhere from his perspective so I def think he deserves some explanation on it. Kinda wild that he would even think she would go on a date with him with her having a bf or a fiancé but I get his hurt! Also I think it’s so adorable how she’s writting about their love story 😭
Also didn’t expect smut at all?!? Genuinely shocked when I read the little warnings lol BUT once again it was fitting for them! The neediness of both of them I think expresses their emotions beyond just sexual attraction! And ya know what I fear I too would just combust that easily if Harry praised me like that HAHA I GET HER!
Very much loved this new part Sam! So excited to see how they develop!!! You did great as always!!
Also I think it’s always nice to have somethings for ourselves but I do think if you feel comfortable enough talking about your writing I think there’s no shame in that! You can always say you “journal” like writing is therapeutic!
Sadly there is no hot anyone this time around😔 must find my motivation elsewhere lol hopefully the fall though lol they seem a bit easier though they have way more tiny assignments which is just a bit much lol
Hope you have the loviest of week/weekend! Wishing you the best!!!-💜
Ahhh! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! HE'S JUST A BOY he is so infatuated and jealous I think he would have seriously just exploded if she was with someone else 🤭 I mean she is me and she can't stop writing about Harry 🤷♀️ It's a blessed curse, I'd say and I don't blame her at all. He's easy to write about �� I love real talks of course that's why these parts get so lengthy. You're very right and I hadn't fully grasped that tbh. It really was out of nowhere for him. I never really thought of that! He def deserved an emotional talk then hehehehe
Okay full disclosure I was most likely ovulating when I wrote this part (it's one of the first sections of the story I wrote) and I don't know if smut was the right move but I absolutely don't regret it because I really think I would let Harry Styles do unspeakable things to me in public and/or private it's very embarrassing but that's why I have a screen to hide behind. BUT ANYWAY. I think after three years they were both likely to be very desperate and it's very obvious they've never stopped loving one another so I just let it happen lol (I think if Harry called me beautiful I would cease to exist so an O seemed less aggressive in a sense 🤣)
I hope you'll like the last couple parts! I've been a bit worried about part 6 more than 7 (Part 7 also has a huge chunk that I wrote from the very beginning of the idea of this, so)
That's a great idea why didn't I think to just LIE and tell people I'm journaling 🤣 You're so smart 💕
UGH well it's a short time frame anyway. It would be devastating to have someone hot to look at but only for a 5 weeks (instead of 10, right?) Tiny assignments is a lot but I'm glad it seems a bit easier. You had me worried at the end of your last classes so I'm very happy they're easier! 💕
I hope you have an amazing weekend planned! Love YOU! 💕
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any tips for someone who has zero gun
human contact? i took open school last year (april ‘23), to prepare for national university admission exam (massive deal in my country), open school is basically when you don’t have to physically go to school, you just have to give exams that too from your home. so main purpose of this was to study and go to private institute’s classes for prep for the exam(1.3M+ students appear, and only 39k seats). and i spent a big chunk of my parents money on this private institute, but now the situation is that i’m no longer interested in studying. i cut off all my friends. i don’t talk to people at the institute. my institute has been off for 3 months now (more like i didn’t attend for 2 months, i used to sit at the library after lying to my mom that i went to the institute). i have no human contact. i rot in my bed all day. i watch youtube and instagram just to have that human interaction atleast online. it’s not that all my friends left me, it’s that i myself cut them one by one off bcz everyone was giving me the ick. my mom doesn’t talk to me in a good way, it’s either anger or nagging. she uses me not having any person against me during fights (that are caused by me bcz i share my feelings with her about not having anyone to talk to and how her not talking to me in a good way affects me, i cry like 30 seconds into taking to her). my sister is to young to be hearing all this depressing stuff from me, she’s happy with her school and friends and i want her to be that way. my dad is posted somewhere else for work so he doesn’t live with us. he calls my mom 4+ times a day, talks goofily and happily with my sister, but he never talks to me. he asks my mom what am i doing and her answer is always that i am studying, even tho i’m not and literally sitting right infront of her at dining table. he never further asks about me. i recently bought myself a new phone, i only have four contacts— mom, sis, dad and aunt, and i got my dad’s number after he ringed my phone, which he only does when mom’s not picking his calls. now i don’t pick up his calls but back when i used to, his word used to be “where’s mom?” no hi or how are you to his daughter. i talk to no one. i don’t even go to my balcony that’s attached to my own room. haven’t seen sunlight in weeks. but nobody cares
Hi sweetheart. First it's so hard to know how I can give advice for this because it sounds like you're depressed. I'm not a doctor, though. I have no qualifications to tell you what's happening, but it truly sounds like you might be going through depression. And depression can immobilize you and you may find yourself alienating from all your friends and family, a form of self-sabatoge.
If you have the ability, consider therapy. It sounds like you live in India based on what you've said about open school and nat'l university exams (I might be wrong, if so, apologies) and I don't know what options you have or what cities you live near but see if there is a program or some therapists in your area.
Take a look at this and this and here are some free online therapy chat options (7 Cups always comes highly recommended) if you'd like to talk to someone online.
I'm so sorry that you're going through this and feeling this way. I hope you find some peace and begin to feel like yourself again. While I don't have great advice for you I will say that I'm always here if you want to vent. I'll read any ask you send and hear you. You deserve to be listened to and to feel happy in life.
Also if anyone here has real advice to give or some love to share with anon please do.
xoxo
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Brooklyn Baby
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2,827
Warnings: Cheating (not Steve), Mentions of sex (No smut), Shitty boy behavior (OC).
Summary: After catching her high school sweetheart in bed with another woman, Y/N quickly realizes that moving half way across the country to be with her boyfriend was a big mistake. Stuck in Hawkins for the rest of the year, Y/N has to navigate the struggles of moving to a new town, going to class, and mending a broken heart. However, Hawkins has a certain way of changing a person's life forever. Will it be the fresh start Y/N desperately needs? Or a nightmare much bigger than a break up?
Author’s Note: This will be multi chapter, don't know how many parts yet. Steve deserves some attention after all the Eddie hype (as much as I love them both). Also Hawkins has a University.
Part One
Her mother always told her not to make major life decisions for a boy. High school romances may not last forever, but she was determined to prove her wrong. Chris Ryan was the one. They'd been together since the beginning of freshman year, they were going to get married, settle down, pop out a few kids. Live the whole nuclear family life he planned for them. When Chris got a football scholarship to Notre Dame, Y/N thought she could handle the long distance. But Indiana is so far away from the boroughs of New York.
Chris left for school in early August, wanted to get a lay of the land before class started. Y/N was disappointed, she wanted to spend the entire summer together. He told her that it was best for them in the end, and she believed him. They talked on the phone every week, but when Chris told her he was staying in Indiana over winter break after only a few weeks into the semester, she knew she had to figure something out. So after only one semester at Brooklyn College under her belt, Y/N decided to transfer to Hawkins University.
With less than an hour drive they could see each other every week. It was the perfect plan. Y/N neglected to tell Chris any of this, she didn't want him to be disappointed that she didn't apply to the same school. She was smart enough to get in, but the price of tuition was too much to handle. Hawkins University was the best compromise she could come up with. Everything else she had planned out to a T.
First she got her drivers license, knowing she'd need it to make the two hour drive to Notre Dame and back once she got there. Chris would probably be too busy with football and school to go to Hawkins, so she made things easier for him. Then she bought her first car, it carved up a chunk of her savings, but she was thankful she never had to ride the 5 train again. She found a small apartment within her budget, 15 minutes away from campus. She'd have to get a job once she got there, but her mother agreed to help with the rent if she needed it. Next she said goodbye to her mother, and although she didn't agree with her daughters decision, she respected the fact that she was an adult now, told her she could always come home if things didn't work out. After that all that was left was to pack up her 1969 Dodge Van and make the long journey to Indiana.
The drive was was miserable, bitter winds and icy roads that Y/N had to navigate. Fortunately most of the roads were empty, everyone settled in their spots to celebrate the new year. She hoped she made it on time to kiss Chris at the stroke of midnight. It would be the first time since they started dating that they didn't spend New Year's Eve together if she din't make it, and Y/N thought it would be bad luck if she didn't start 1986 by his side. However, lady luck was by her side as she pulled into Notre Dame's campus at 11:32. She visited once to help Chris move into his dorm, not wanting to waste a single moment she could.
It took her while to find the building in the dark, but managed to find it by 11:51. Y/N had 9 minutes to find Chris, and she was nearly jumping out of her seat. She was so excited to see the look on his face when she surprised him. His big blue eyes widening when she walks in the door. Y/N imagined him picking her up and spinning her around the room, showering her face with kisses. As she parked her van in an empty spot, she noticed a group of guys in jerseys standing in the front lawn. Chris and some of his teammates must have been throwing a New Years Eve party. She got out of the car and made her way to the front door, the men beside the front door completely oblivious to her presence.
As Y/N walked in she noticed that the front desk was empty, whoever staffed there probably went home for the holidays. She ventured on through the hallways, navigating her way through a sea of drunk college students shuffling between dorms. Chris and his roommate were on the third floor, and after nearly getting drenched with cheap beer, Y/N finally found the elevator.
Her heart was pounding, in just a few minutes she'd finally see him. Five months was such a long time, and she couldn't wait to be with Chris. Each second inside the elevator felt like an eternity, but after a few minutes the doors finally opened. Y/N saw that the third floor was just a busy as the ground level. It looked like a lot of students planned on staying over winter break. "We Built This City" was blasting on someone's boombox, nearly drowned out by the loud yells of the Notre Dame student body, alongside the screeching of kazoos and whistles. Everybody was in full spirits to celebrate the New Year, but she drowned out the noise, focused on her goal.
"#30, #32, #34..." Y/N counted to herself, trying to find Chris's room. The cheers from the hallway were getting louder, waiting to count the last seconds of 1985. After a moment she finally found it. Chris was just on the other side of the door. She rushed to the door of room #38, the final countdown was starting.
"5!" If Y/N was paying attention she would have noticed the sock hanging there.
"4!" Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel something off about the door knob, but she didn't think too much about it.
"3!" The door was opening now, the room pitch black. Was Chris sleeping?
"2!" Y/N found the switch, flipping it up to drown the room in light.
"1! Happy New Year!" Voices were cheering throughout the hall, but the only thing Y/N could hear was the sounds of grunting coming from within the room. There he was.. Chris Ryan.. the love of her life for the past 5 years.. fucking some other girl.
He didn't notice the light was on at first, but the red head beneath him did. She screamed, not in pleasure, but in shock that someone had entered the room. She made eye contact with Y/N and rushed to cover herself up, not wanting to expose what was going on, even if both them knew.
"What's wrong baby?" Chris still didn't notice. He had no clue that Y/N was standing just 8 ft away from him, had no clue that her heart just shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
"There's a girl at the door!" The redhead shouted, grabbing her bra that was hanging on the metal headboard behind them.
"What?" That's when he finally turned around, and this wasn't the look of surprise Y/N wanted. A pregnant pause filled the room, as the redhead girl jumped off the bed to find her clothes.
"Y/N!? What are you doing here!?" Chris shouted, covering the lower half of his body with the blanket she crocheted him junior year. It was a Christmas present, she spent months on it.
"Y/N? Who's Y/N?" The redhead asked, as she struggled to put her shoes back on.
"I'm Y/N... his girlfriend." The silence was deafening. Chris was staring at her, jaw dropped and a wild look in his blue eyes. His normally perfectly combed blonde hair was messy, evidence that fingers were running through it only moments ago. The redhead in the corner looked just as shocked. That look of shock quickly changed to anger as she grabbed one of Chris's boots on the floor to throw it at him.
"Girlfriend!? You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend!?" Y/N looked around the room. Back in Brooklyn, Y/N's walls were filled with pictures. Photos of her and her mother on their vacation to Watkins Glen, plenty of polaroids of her high school friends, and tons of pictures of her and Chris together throughout the years. Chris's walls weren't like that. He had the Notre Dame pennant above his bed, a poster of Heather Locklear on the wall next to it. Y/N didn't notice unpacking that when she moved him in over the summer. What she did notice was the lack of pictures of her.
Y/N gave him a few framed photos of them together to decorate with when she left. One was their prom photo, another was from when they went to Coney Island for his 16th birthday, and a picture of them in their cap and gowns on graduation day. None of them were hung up. There was no evidence she even existed here.
"I can explain.." Chris began, his left squinting. It was a quirk of his, he had it since he was a kid. His left eye would always squint when he was nervous. She noticed it for the first time when he asked her out on their first date. It wasn't as endearing now as it was back then.
"No need to explain anything, I can put the pieces together myself!" The redhead shouted at him. She turned to Y/N, the furious look on her face warped into one of pity. "I promise I had no idea he had a girlfriend. I never would have slept with him otherwise, I'm not a home wrecker." Her bright green eyes never broke contact with Y/N's, and she believed her. Y/N nodded to the redhead, and turned her attention to Chris.
"I wanted to surprise you, for the new year. I drove 11 hours and 37 minutes to get here... To tell you that I transferred to Hawkins University, so we could be closer together. To tell you that I hated being long distance... and that I didn't want you to give up your football scholarship to be with me in New York. So I came here." Y/N was surprised she didn't cry in that moment. She usually cries at everything. She just felt numb, cold, like the bitter winter of Indiana.
Chris didn't say anything. Not a word. He just sat there and stared at her with that stupid deer in headlights look. No apology, no begging for forgiveness, nothing. Y/N's right hand was still on the door knob, she finally noticed a white sock hanging there. If only she paid closer attention, maybe she would have been spared the sight of Chris's infidelity.
"Come on honey, let's go." The redhead gently grabbed Y/N's hand off the door knob and held it, leading her outside the room. She walked her towards the elevator doors, easily bypassing the drunk kids crowding the halls. When she clicked the button to open the elevator that's when Y/N heard Chris shouting her name.
Both of the girls ignored him as they walked into the elevator, and as the doors began to close Y/N finally looked up to see Chris standing in his boxers a few feet away.
"Y/N! I-" The doors shut, drowning out what he was about to say.
New years day is typically a time for relaxation. People stay home with their families, enjoying the holiday time off, excited to not have to be in the office working their 9-5s. But that wasn't the case for everyone. Family Video was open, bright neon sign hanging in the window, cutting through the dull gray fog that was outside of the door.
"I can't believe Keith made us work on New Years, no one is even here!" Robin complained. Both her and Steve got stuck opening and closing during the holiday. Keith insisted that since people were home, they'd want to rent movies. Clearly he was wrong, because it's been dead all day.
"At least it's not a full day, we got to sleep in till noon." Steve replied, tossing a ball of rubber bands in the air and catching it again. Robin groaned for the upteenth time this afternoon. She was laying on the floor between the isles of Horror and Thriller movies to Steve's left. The place she's occupied for the past two hours.
"I'm so booooored" Steve rolled his eyes, fed up with Robin's constant complaining. She said it as if she was the only one who didn't want to be there. Steve would have rather been anywhere else than Family Video at that moment. He could be sitting on his couch alone, a six pack and Miss. December waiting for him. His parents were out of town, again, this time on vacation in the Bahamas. They neglected to include Steve in their holiday planning, insisting that he pay for his own ticket and hotels if he wanted to go so bad. As if he could drop a couple grand on a tropical vacation on his minimum wage salary.
"Find something to occupy yourself with, I'm pretty sure there are still some tapes that need rewinding in the back. You know, actually do your job." Robin sat up, an unamused expression on her face.
"Says the guy who's been tossing that rubber band ball in the air for the past 45 minutes." She shot back. Steve through the ball at her, deliberately missing her head by a couple inches. "Hey!"
"I'm not the one complaining I'm bored." Great, now his ball was gone. He could either get up from his cozy spot on top of the front desk counter and grab it, or stay here and find something else to occupy his time with. Decisions, decisions...
"Fine. I'll go rewind all of 9 VHS tapes in the back." Robin slowly dragged her feet to the Employee's Only door, nearly knocking over the candy shelf on her way there.
"Be careful! I just stacked those!" He yelled at Robin's back as she closed the door behind her, ignoring his pestering. Steve groaned, finally deciding to jump off his perch to search for his beloved rubber ball. Before he could take another step, the front door began to chime. Finally, a customer.
"Welcome to Family Video, my name is Steve. How can I help you today?" He didn't get a good look at the customer when they first walked in, but at second glance Steve saw a girl he's never met before. Although Hawkins was technically a city, it didn't feel very big, and through the years he's lived here Steve knew pretty much everyone. This girl looked around his age, they would've gone to high school together. Steve racked his brain but couldn't place her, so she must have recently moved here.
"Yea, I ugh.. I've never been here before. I don't know where anything is." Her voice was hoarse, as if she was getting over a cold, but she didn't look sick. She looked sad. Her eyes were puffy, lashes wet as if she was just crying, lips raw and chapped from being bitten too much. She looked like she'd been through the ringer, and Steve couldn't help but feel bad for her.
"Well I can fix that. Horror, thriller, and action movies are to your right, comedies, drama, and romances to your left. Anything you're looking for in particular?" A self depreciating laugh left her lips.
"Definitely not romance." She replied, shaking her head like she was personally offended at the genre. Steve was curious about her. What was she doing in the Hawkins Family Video on New Years Day? Where was she from? He couldn't place her accent, it was definitely not how the girls of Hawkins sounded. He also wanted to know why she looked so upset. Steve has always been too nosy, it's gotten him in a lot trouble, especially in recent years.
"Ooh that sounded personal, you have beef with romance or something?" Steve asked, now desperate to know more about her. The girl laughed again, a little more genuine and a little less sad.
"No, I used to love romance, I used to love love actually. Recently, not so much... but you probably don't want to hear about some strange girl's problems." She sighed, slowly making her way to the horror section. Steve followed, he didn't want the conversation to end just yet.
"Well lucky for you, I just so happen to be a master of strange things, so.. if you want to talk I can listen. You're the first person to come in all day, you'd be saving me from the endless suffering that is menial labor." That got a real laugh out of her.
"If you're sure..."
"Totally." Steve sat on the ground, patting the spot next time. The girl followed, unzipping her thick parka to get more comfortable. "I'm all ears."
"Well, it started when I decided to uproot my life to surprise my boyfriend..."
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#stranger things#stranger things fanficton#stranger things fanfic#stranger things steve#stranger things steve harrington
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Times Are Changing
Book: Open Heart (Post Series)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan)
Rating: General
Category: Domestic Fluff
Warnings: None
Summary: It’s 2:00 AM, and Ethan’s turn to tend to baby Emma. When things don’t go well, it’s Kaycee to the rescue in more ways than one.
Words: 1019
A/N: A very late response to this ask from the lovely @peonierose! From the Pregnancy & Baby prompt list. I hope you enjoy it!
@choicesaugustchallenge – Day 19 – “You’re better than you think you are.”
“Emma, sweetie, if you keep squirming, how is Daddy supposed to…. UGH!”
Seated at the kitchen island, just a few feet from the nursery, Kaycee’s hand covered her mouth to conceal a giggle.
“Emma, if you stay still, I promise I will not give you grief about your first boyfriend… or girlfriend… whatever makes you happy, sweetie. But please, please stay still for….”
A string of high-pitched squeals filled the room. It was amazing that such a tiny thing could make such big noises. Ethan let out a frustrated huff, and Kaycee knew it was time to go in for the rescue.
“Hey, how’s it going in here?”
Her tone could not have been more pleasant, but it was met with a scowl.
“It’s going fine. I’m just changing Emma’s diaper.”
He rapidly sealed the diaper, taping the tabs on both sides, leaving large gaps around their two-week-old’s tiny thighs. Lifting her quickly before Kaycee could offer an assessment.
“You see,” he smiled. “Perfect! We’re good here.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth when a trickle of liquid spilled down the front of his t-shirt. A string of works no two-week-old should hear fell out of his mouth.
“Ethan,” his wife smiled sweetly, “come here, honey. Give me Emma and go change.”
“But she still needs a new diaper.”
“I know. I’ll take care of it. Go. Go change, and I’ll meet you inside in a moment.”
When he reached the door, he turned back and watched his wife singing softly to their little girl as she effortlessly changed her. He smiled despite himself, but as he walked down the hallway to their room, the smile turned into a frown.
Ten minutes later, he joined the two most precious people to ever enter his life on their couch. Kaycee smiled wearily as she rocked little Emma in her arms.
“Come closer,” she asked. “It would be a great time for a family snuggle.”
“Sure. 2:00 AM is the ideal time for family snuggles.”
“It is when you have a newborn,” Kaycee reasoned.
Ethan inched closer, a look of utter disappointment and defeat coloring his face.
“It’s 2:00 AM,” he sighed. “It was my turn to change her. You should be getting much needed sleep, but….”
“Baby,” she said, placing a hand on his knee. “We’re new at this. This is a learning curve for all three of us.”
“But I can’t even change her diaper.”
“You can try again. Watch me change her next time.”
Lack of sleep and a feeling of inadequacy began to take their toll, and he snapped back.
“I graduated top in my class from Hopkins, and I’m one of the top doctors in the country. I think I can manage to diaper my daughter!”
Kaycee turned to him with reassuring but exhausted eyes.
“Of course, you can. But when you were accepted to Hopkins, you had sixteen years of education that helped you get there, did you not?”
He looked like a little boy crossing his arms with a pout taking over his lips. He knew where she was going, and he knew she was right. She usually was.
“Yes,” he mumbled.
“And when you became a top doctor, it was after a residency in one of the best programs in the country. Learning from some of the premier doctors in the world, no?”
“I see where you’re going,” he smirked.
“Ethan, before Emma, how much exposure had you had to babies?”
“That would be none,” he said, his face beginning to brighten.
“Well, see… there you go! On the other hand, I spent a good chunk of my childhood at my best friend Daniel’s house. He had two little sisters, and we were always happy to lend his Mom a hand. I had years of diapering experience under my belt before I hit puberty.”
“I know. But it’s all so foreign to me. Sometimes I feel like I’m failing the two of you.”
“Ethan Ramsey!” she scolded, “You are not failing either of us. You are a wonderful husband and father, and you mean the world to us. What do you think I’m going to do? Ditch you for a younger model because you need help learning to diaper Emma?”
“A younger model wouldn’t have what it takes to keep you happy, my dear,” he grinned.
“You’re damn right! You are better than you think you are.”
Emma opened her eyes and began to squirm in Kaycee’s arms. She had been fed and changed. Still, no amount of sweet lullabies or rocking seemed to soother her.
“Oh, boy, it looks like it’s going to be a long night,” Kaycee grimaced.
Ethan extended his arms, “Here, why don’t you let me try.”
Kaycee placed the red-faced, wailing little ball into her father’s arms, and he gently placed her against his chest.
“Wah-ah-AH!” Emma squealed, and then, her little hand clutched her daddy’s t-shirt, her eyes shut, and just like that, she was asleep.
“Would you look at that?” Kaycee beamed, wrapping her arm around him. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder, intoxicated by the sweet combination of Ethan’s shampoo and Emma’s baby lotion. This was all she had ever dreamed of, and it turned out 2:00 AM was the best time for family snuggles.
“She just wanted her daddy.”
“She did,” Ethan said. Once again, he looked like a little boy, but this time, he was full of joy and wonder.
“See, you could never let us down,” Kaycee squeezed him tightly.
“So, do you think you could fit in some diapering lessons in later today?”
“That can be arranged, but….”
Ethan’s brow furrowed, “But what?”
“But I sincerely doubt you can afford my salary.”
“Hahaha,” he jested. “I’m married to a regular comedian.”
“Ethan, there is nothing regular about me.”
Turning to his side, he placed a kiss on her forehead. “You’ve got that right. What do you say? Should we try putting her back in the crib?”
“I think so. Why don’t you do it, baby? You seem to have a knack for that.”
“Meet you in bed in five?” he yawned.
“That’s a plan.”
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Office Hours
I’m a whore for student/teacher shit and this is waaaaaaaaaaay too good to not pass up. For a college collab (pls DM if this was your collab I can’t remember LMAO), and the anon that asked for Aizawa to jerk off to his student n get caught
This fic includes: student/teacher dynamic, male reader, creampies, asshole being called a pussy, breeding kink, being caught masturbating, premature ejaculation, creepy teacher Aizawa, power imbalance, sub Aizawa, virgin Aizawa, loss of virginity, slight public sex (in an office), college aged reader, 40 something year old Aizawa, mutual crush
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong. It’s disgusting, and lewd, and inappropriate.
Aizawa unzips his pants as he clicks play.
He’d spent weeks compiling the audio clips, weeks picking them out of lectures and putting them into a beast of a video- at least two full hours of just your voice. Talking about the mundane, responding to questions, chattering with your classmates. Anything and everything so that he could indulge himself and his sick fantasies.
You’d been Aizawa’s favorite since the beginning of the year. Always nice and funny, with a voice that soothed something deep inside him. Not to mention how lovely you were- if he was your age and a student instead of your professor he’d have tried to seduce you by now. But instead he’s left here in the cold of his office, hand around his dick and eyes closed as he listens to you speaking.
Aizawa skips past a good chunk of the video to the part he really wanted: all the times his name left your lips. He lets out a long, deep sigh as the first hum of “Mr. Aizawa,” sounds in the speakers, and his balls give a hearty twitch. The thought of you calling him that in bed makes his head spin and his mouth water. The way you sounded when you called out to him- for him- and sounded so fucking happy when he acknowledged your plea for attention… It was enough to drive him crazy. One hand rubs through the mop of his hair, tugging it so a soft whine escapes him. Oh, if only you were the one to pull it while he was balls deep inside you, giving you exactly what he knew you needed…
His hips arch as he thinks of it all- you laid out on his desk, legs wide and begging for him to just fuck you- and his tongue falls out of his mouth as his hand speeds up. Aizawa’s usually calm and stoic- but with his favorite student, he was feral. The only thing that ruins his fantasy is when your voice, shocked and a little scared, sounds through the speakers.
He forgot you were on the call.
Video calls from Professor Aizawa were common for you. He liked to know what you were doing, how you were doing, and if he could help you with anything. It was sweet- if a little concerning at times. It didn’t help the little crush you had on him, knowing that you were his absolute favorite, and he never spoke to any of his other students the way he spoke to you. Hell, some of them barely believed he was alive from how little he communicated with them.
But you were special- you were his favorite.
You’re about to settle down for a good night alone when the call pops up on your screen. Aizawa, of course, was calling to check in on you and make sure his assignment wasn’t too difficult for you to handle. There’s barely a second thought as you accept the call and wait for him to let you in.
A few minutes later, you’re greeted to the sight and sound of your teacher jerking off.
While your voice plays in the background.
You recognize the topics- he’d gotten clips from class and spliced them together- including every time you said his name. The sound of your voice is foreign and easily ignored in favor of Aizawa’s big hand stroking the thick length of his cock. In all your weeks of fantasizing about what he was packing, you never expected that. Hung, with fat balls that made you squirm and your fingers clench, and with a soft nest of black curls that looked so inviting… He was like a dream come true.
As he pulls his own hair and squeezes the base of his dick (and you swallow thickly as he slaps the tip of his cock against his belly with a growl) you realize that this is a big mistake. Not only for him in having the call to begin with but also yours for actually watching this long. But you couldn’t look away. Your were aching to know what he tasted like, what his fingers would feel like around your cock- or even inside you- and tangled in your hair. The sight was too mesmerizing, making your head spin.
“Mr... Aizawa?”
He freezes, black eyes darting up to where your flushed cheeks and wide gaze are in the screen. Oh, fuck. His hands stays glued to his dick even as he feels cold shame seep into his bones, and his mouth gapes as he tries to form the words to excuse himself and his actions.
Then your cock is flashing in the camera, hard and leaking, and you’re bring your lip as you wrap your own hand around it. Aizawa’s balls clench as you breath in shakily, pumping your length just for him. God, he feels like he’s going to combust. “D-Don’t stop on my account, professor,” you manage to rasp, and his cock dribbles as he cums suddenly. It’s his least satisfying orgasm but god damn if it didn’t make him see stars. The little pout on your face makes his heart melt, and your disappointed look has him scrambling to try ad get his dick back up.
“Next time, Mr. Aizawa, I want to be there to taste all that yummy cum of yours,” you sigh as you terminate the call.
When you meet him for office hours a month later, you expect the sight before you. Your professor is half naked in his chair, jerking off to the clips of your voice purring out a desire to taste his cum. You’re almost disgusted by it, but the shock on his face when you spin his chair around and wrap a hand around his fat nuts is priceless.
It didn’t take mush to get him bent over his own desk, shaking hands spreading his ass so you can get your tongue on his soft hole. Your hand slowly milks his cock as he shudders and moans softly against the wood of his desk, long black hair hiding his flushed face. Each curl and flick of your tongue in his ass has him jolting and crying out- and you wonder if this is the first time he’s had his pretty little ass eaten.
“Professor Aizawa,” you coo against his taint, the fingers of your free hand pushing inside his hole. He chokes on his spit, forehead making contact with his desk with a hearty thump. “Is this the first time you’ve gotten your pussy ate?” you ask, and his cock flexes. Ah, so he liked that... You could work with it. He’s quiet, fighting the urge to answer you, but he shouts when you smack his nuts and press your fingers into his prostate.
“I asked you a question, professor.”
“Y-yes!” he’s shaking and crying as you open him up, your cock leaking against his skin where the tip kisses at him. “I-I’ve never... Never had my pussy e-eaten... Not even b-b-by another teacher,” Aizawa rasps, and a fat glob of pre drips from your cock down to his balls.
Your drizzle lube onto your dick, pulling your fingers out and feeding your dick into your professor with a nasty smirk. “Betcha haven’t had it fucked, either. Don’t worry, Professor, I’ll be gentle... But I’m gonna breed your pretty pussy- make sure it’s always mine.”
Aizawa groans as you start railing him, fingers digging into his desk, and you pant against his back. For an older man, he can take a pounding, and you love how tight his hole is. It feels just like a pretty virgin pussy, and there’s a sense of pride in popping your professor’s cherry in his office while he moans like a whore. You pull your cock out just to make him beg for it back, slapping the head against his pouting asshole.
He’s already gaping a bit, looking like less of a virgin, and you groan as you slide your dick in and out of him slowly, then hook a thumb in his hole as you fist your cock. “C’mon, Professor Aizawa... Beg me to fill your pussy up with cum,” you rasp in his ear, and his ears burn bright red. You push his hair out of his face and smear your pre on his cheek, laughing as his eyes roll back. He starts stuttering as he begs, barely getting a few words out before you’re shoving your way back into him and rabbit humping away.
Hot cum splashes to the ground as Aizawa hits his orgasm, clenching tight enough to squeeze your dick in a vice, and you grunt as your cum spills inside his ass. “Yeah, there’s a good boy, Mr. Aizawa... Milk my cock...”
Aizawa shakes, whimpering as you slowly rock your hips- you’ve finished cumming but you want to make sure he feels every drop of cum sloshing in his guts. You flip him over and press deep, hand cupping the bulge in his tummy that the head of your cock makes. You lick your lips, cock fattening up, and Aizawa looks at you with glossy eyes.
He’s not stuttering anymore when he demands you do one simple thing:
“Fuck me so full of cum that I look pregnant.”
“Why should I, teach?”
“You’ll pass the class with a 100.”
You smirk, humping into him and making Aizawa choke on his spit. “Yessir, Mr. Aizawa~”
#Aizawa Shouta x reader#Aizawa Shouta x male reader#Male reader#BNHA smut#Collabs#College Collab#Professor Aizawa#Professor x student#Nasti Writes
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Crash and Burn
fandom | miraculous ladybug
genre | salt, lila salt
pairing | n/a
w.c | 3.2k
author's note | hey remember that lila salt fic i promised? this isn't it but this is something i made today so yep. please accept this as an apology for yknow. me promising to write and. not doing it.
Enough was enough.
“Marinette, stop accusing Lila! She just wants to make friends!”
“Take the high road.”
“Be a good model student, Marinette.”
Enough. Was. Enough.
Marinette had the connections, the power, the choice to make Lila’s entire world crumble apart. The only thing that stood between the liar’s demise was the tiniest pinch of morality and self-restraint— And no, that self-restraint did not come in the form of Tikki. Even the kwami, who had to be an aggregation of all the good and nice things in the world, was fed up and ready to retaliate.
“What a joke.” Lila cackled, tossing a chunk of her sausage hair over her shoulder flamboyantly. The two girls were in the bathroom, with Lila smirking in front of the sink and Marinette a little distance away from her. “You can make my world crumble? What is this, a threat?”
“A promise.” Marinette corrected. “Stop telling lies. Come clean to every one. No more lying about knowing celebrities left and right, no more making excuses about not being able to take your own notes, no more making up ‘diseases’ just so your life gets a little more convenient. To be frank, I really don’t care what happens to you— But by making these empty promises to introduce my classmates to great ‘celebrities’, you’re ruining their futures. Stop.”
“And what are you going to do if I don’t?” Lila sneered, face twisted into an ugly grin. “You going to cry in front of the class? Try and convince them that I, the one they adore— That I am lying?”
“No.” Marinette’s eyes were clear when she met Lila’s. The clouds of self-doubt that used to hover over the bright, shining star inside her soul had now dissipated, letting the bluenette emit a confident, glowing appearance as she met the liar head on. “I’m just going to keep my promise.”
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
Lila headed off to a modelling shoot after school, pleased at the prospect of spending more time with Adrien. There were a couple tendrils of Marinette’s words hanging behind in her mind— Did the girl mean what she said? Did she actually… Was she actually capable of causing Lila’s downfall? … Surely not. Marinette may have once been the ‘Everyday Ladybug’, but there was no way she was that competent, there was no way the girl was capable of plotting.
The Italian hummed, brushing away thoughts of the annoying bluenette from her mind. She was going on a photoshoot— One that was going cause the rise and burst of her career, the one that was going to make her name a globally-known one. Unfortunately for Lila, her plans were going to be derailed quite soon— In fact, as soon as Gabriel Agreste’s car rolled into the parking lot of the shoot location.
“Explain this, Mlle. Rossi.” Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he pointed to the tabloid article on his tablet. The Italian girl froze, the headlines seared into her eyes, big and black and bold, shooting poison right into the core of her body, paralysing her cell by cell starting from her heart. “What is the meaning of this?”
‘Adrien Agreste Reported To Be Harassed by Fellow Model’— The image under the caption was one that was clearly taken by a hidden photographer. The picture was framed with leafy foliage, which suggested that the camera was tucked up in a tree. Despite the distance, it was quite obvious in the image that Adrien was reeling away, disgusted and uncomfortable as a faceless woman in an orange blazer, back turned to the camera— Invaded his personal space.
The subtitle was the cream on the cupcake.
‘Witnesses State Gabriel Agreste Ignorant of Workplace Harassment’.
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
As if things couldn’t quite go down a worser path, Lila returned home to a fuming mother and an unexpected visitor.
“Lila! You come here right this instant!” The diplomat demanded as soon as the front door opened, her daughter shrinking slightly at the tone and pitch that her mother was using. The last time her mother had been this angry— Well, it was when she got expelled from her last school. “I can’t believe what you’ve done! If it weren’t for your kind classmate, lord knows how long you would’ve continued with this!”
The Italian meekly followed her mother into the living room, eyes widening until they were as large as saucers, mouth agape at the last person she expected to see sitting on the couch.
Marinette smiled kindly, waving at the girl, looking every bit the part of the innocent, pure, kind child that every parent wanted to have. Before Lila could release a torrent of questions about what the hell Marinette Dupain-Cheng was doing in her living room, her mother charged on, beginning to take out her anger on her daughter while a literal angel sat on the sofa, cradling a box of pastries from her family’s bakery.
“Your friend here tells me that you’ve been taking absences from school to go on trips to help humanity!” Mme. Rossi exploded, waving her arms around madly. “She says she’s here to share her notes from the classes you’ve missed! You’ve never left Paris this year! What’s this I hear about flying off to the kingdom of— What was it called again, Marinette dear?”
“Achu.” Provided the bluenette helpfully, the diplomat’s expression instantly softening when she talked to the other teen in the living room.
“Ah, yes. Thank you, dear.” The woman turned back to her daughter, instantly snapping on a mask of anger in a matter of a fraction of a second. “What’s this about flying off to this kingdom of Achu to help homeless orphans with some random prince?”
“Um…” Lila piped up, wriggling as her brain churned at 200 lies per hour, trying to whip up a cover of some sort.
“I’m not done! Your friend here is such a helpful child that she even went as far as to ask her family doctor is there’s a cure for your… Lying disease!” Mme. Rossi practically roared, breathing flames as if she were an intimidating dragon, her daughter flinching away from the heat. “I’ve never heard of anything more ridiculous! And then there’s the fact that you lied to your classmates about having tinnitus?!”
“I actually do have tinnitus!” Lila cut in forcibly, widening her eyes to make herself look more pitiful. “I was just afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry!”
“Bullshit!”
“Um… Sorry to interrupt, Mme. Rossi,” Marinette piped up, the diplomat instantly cooling down as she faced the bluenette, a soft smile tracing the Italian woman’s lips. “But it’s getting rather late and my parents would love me home soon. I also have some tests to revise for tonight, so I think I should get going.”
“Oh, of course, dear.” Mme. Rossi hastily got up to help the bluenette to the door, shooting a warning glare at her daughter— ‘Sit still and don’t you dare go anywhere’, the glare read. “Feel free to come over again anytime you want, dear. I’m not home often, but you are such a sweet child. I’m sure Lila could learn a lot from you.”
“Thanks for having me as well, Mme. Rossi. I really like your home. I left the pastries on the counter— Make sure to warm the curry puffs before you eat them.” Marinette returned the smile, bowing slightly to the older woman as a sign of respect.
“Thank you for the pastries as well, Marinette. I ought to visit your parents’ bakery sometime when I’m free.” Mme. Rossi opened the door kindly for the bluenette, waving the girl off with an affectionate smile. Her parents must be so lucky to have such a sweet little thing like her, Mme. Rossi sighed internally, turning the key so she locked the door. And she seems to be a high-scoring student as well.
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
Lila seethed, having been grounded by her mother. As far as Mme. Rossi was concerned, there was a boarding school not too far away from their current residence, and by the next week, the Italian girl would be transferred over. Lila had never hated Dupain-Cheng as much as she did in that moment.
Still furious, the Italian snapped her laptop open, too angry to bother with the fact she might’ve scratched the surface. Clicking into the web browser, she started to type in the words ‘Ladyblog’— That was, before a news article caught her eye.
‘Jagged Stone Interview Reveals Underage, Obsessed Fan’.
What on Earth…
As soon as Lila clicked into the link, the news footage from the interview immediately begin to play. The date stamp on it showed that it had aired last night— Which meant that she would’ve missed it, since her mother was too busy yelling at her to turn on the television to watch Nadja Chamack’s daily news.
“As soon as I heard this rumour about some underage teenage girl claiming that she had saved my cat on an airport runway, I called Penny and asked her to book a slot for me to clarify this,” Jagged Stone said grimly, dressed in more formal attire as he sat in the comfortable, cushioned chair of the news station, with Nadja nodding equally seriously beside him. “Let me clarify— I’ve never owned a cat. I’m allergic to fur. The only pet I’ve had was Fang, and he’s an al-li-ga-tor. Not a cat. Whatever the girl is claiming, she’s obsessed and making up stories.”
“It’s also kind of bewildering that she saved it on an airport runway,” Nadja continued, shaking her head in disappointment. “That kind of thing only happens in dramas— It’s too dangerous for anyone besides authorised workers to be on airport runways.”
“Right, right!” Jagged agreed instantly. “The whole rumour is just really baffling.”
“M. Jagged, may I ask what kind of effect these rumours have on a celebrities’ career?” Nadja continued, leading the conversation on like a professional.
“Well, rumours that circulate around tend to have really bad effects, and the worse ones can hang around for a long, long time. Tabloids are often spun off from rumours, baseless and with no evidence. Those tabloids will never truly disappear, so they can leave a mark on a celebrity’s reputation as some people will believe anything— Even things they read from un-cited tabloids.”
“That is simply terrible. Have you ever had any cases of rumours created by underaged teens before this?”
“I’ve had quite a number, but none of them really got as big as this one. From what Penny has found from digging around, the teen girl managed to spread the rumour through her school and onto a once-popular blog.” Jagged explained. “Penny has also found out that the same girl has claimed that I’ve written songs for her to thank her for saving my cat! I would never write songs and dedicate them to an underaged girl— Trust me. If I could do such a thing, I’d already have written a dozen in honour of my niece— She’s my favourite designer.”
Nadja smiled at that sentence. “Then—“
The news footage cut off abruptly as Lila slammed her laptop shut, too upset to continue watching.
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
On the other side of Paris, Alya was pacing around her room frantically, wondering why on earth Lila wasn’t picking up on her calls. She’d left at least four dozen messages to the Italian, who was absent from school that day. There had been a couple whispers here and there about why she was missing— Rose had suggested another impromptu trip to Achu.
Lila’s absence wasn’t the weirdest part of the day, however.
That award would go to Marinette, who walked into class with a smile, the slightest sprinkles of delight colouring her bluebell eyes when she spotted Lila’s empty seat.
Growing in frustration, Alya threw herself onto her bed, phone clattering onto the mattress with her. Within the next few minutes, however, her phone suddenly started exploding with notifications. Excited at the prospect of Lila finally texting back, Alya turned on her phone, only to be disappointed by the notifications all clamouring from the class group chat.
Kim had sent a link to the chat— Without hesitation, Alya clicked into it, frowning when she saw Nadja and Jagged appear on the screen. Throughout the interview, the colour on the Ladyblogger’s face only paled by the second until she was as white as a sheet, and if it were halloween at that time, she would’ve won the best costume award for being a ghost.
There must… There must’ve been a mistake.
A notification from Lila’s number made the blogger perk up, instantly clicking into the conversation— But her newfound hope didn’t last very long.
[Lila]
Hi, Alya. This is Lila’s mom. She’s currently grounded right now. Is there anything important you need to tell her?
[Alya]
Oh, nothing much… I just wanted to ask where she was.
[Lila]
She’s at home.
[Alya]
Okay, thanks.
Flopping onto her bed, Alya begin thinking, revising over the past few months like it was an old clip. Lila’s exciting adventures and interactions with celebrities of every kind— Lila going overseas and face timing the entire class— Lila letting her in on the secrets of being Ladybug’s friend…
… Marinette trying to tell them that Lila was lying…
──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────
The class was awfully silent the next day. Adrien was absent as well— A social worker was looking into his home life as a result of the tabloid that arose. Things for the blonde could either get better or worse from then on, as the matters were still foggy and things hadn’t cleared up yet. The blonde maintained contact with his friends, however, calling and texting them whenever he could.
“Class, settle down.” Mlle. Bustier stepped into the class, looking very tense and uncomfortable. “Today, we will have a guest, so please be on your best behaviours, alright?”
Just as the teacher finished speaking, a tall, regal-looking Italian woman entered the classroom, a cowering principal and a meek-looking Lila in tow. The class brightened slightly at the sight of their friend— But by the way she wasn’t looking into their eyes… Things weren’t going to be good.
“Good morning. I am Mme. Rossi, Lila’s mother.” The woman begin speaking, her firm and no-nonsense tone instantly making every student sit straight, their eyes too afraid to look anywhere else but the Italian diplomat. “It has come to my attention that my daughter has been taking absences from school to do charity work— And I have to clarify that this is a lie. Lila has been doing nothing but holing herself up in her room, lying to me and saying that there are no classes due to akumas.” The Italian diplomat glowered at Damocles. “What’s even more baffling is the fact that neither her homeroom nor the principal bothered to check up with me despite a student having extended periods of absence with no note or email written whatsoever.”
The class was so quiet that they could hear the quiver of Mlle. Bustier’s trembling lip.
“In addition, I’ve been kindly told that Lila has claimed to have a lying disease, which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this week.” It was impossible to miss the way the Italian diplomat was glaring daggers at both Mlle. Bustier and Damocles. “No one bothered to look it up online to see if it’s actual disorder, nor did anyone call me to confirm and ask for a doctor’s note, which is standard procedure.” Chills burst over the room, making every one shiver as the woman hissed out her words.
“Mme. Rossi, we didn’t want to disturb your busy schedule—” Damocles begin, only to be blown backwards from the sheer intensity of Mme. Rossi’s glower.
“M. Damocles, standard procedures exist for a reason. Unless you’d like to tell me about any other things you’ve been letting my daughter get away with?”
“N— No, Mme.”
The Italian diplomat continued on her war path. “My daughter also claimed to have tinnitus, am I correct?”
“Y— Yes, Mme.” Mlle. Bustier answered when it seemed like no one was going to.
“And I heard that the class seating arrangement was shifted to accommodate for that?” The homeroom teacher didn’t dare answer this time, for it seemed like whatever she said would be the incorrect answer. “And apparently, my daughter has also been faking broken wrists and requesting for her classmates to complete her work for her.” Mme. Rossi was practically breathing flames at that point, “And I am incredibly upset at the lack of action from the homeroom teacher.”
No one could breath.
“I have many concerns about the running of this schooling facility, and I expect to discuss this with M. Damocles privately after this. However, there is still something to be done.” Mme. Rossi swept her gaze towards her daughter, who found the floor incredibly interesting at that point of time. “Lila? Something you’d like to say to your classmates?”
“… I’m sorry for lying to you.” Lila mumbled resentfully.
“Louder, Lila. No one can hear you.”
“I’m sorry for lying to you!” Lila swallowed, bursting like an explosion that had finally been triggered, tears in her eyes and fists hatefully curled. “I’m sorry for lying about my diseases and injuries. I’m sorry for making you do my work,” She spat. “Sorry for causing any inconveniences.”
Mme. Rossi raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Is that all?”
Lila glared at her mother, who was completely unfazed. “Oh, so you want an apology from me? Fine!” She turned to the class, a maniacal glint in her eyes as she sneered at the class, a few gasps puffing from around the room as they caught their first glimpse of the liar that resided in the ‘harmless’ shell of Lila Rossi. “I’m sorry that you are all such idiots that you all fell for everything. I’m sorry that Marinette has such terrible, untrusting classmates that turned their backs on her even though she was still a goody-two shoes till the end, even though she still wanted to help you sorry peasants. I’m sorry that you were all so goddamn gullible! There! Good enough for you?”
Shock was etched into the faces of every human in the classroom— Including Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, and Mme. Rossi themselves. Clearly, that part of the apology had not been part of the plan.
“Did I miss something?” Said a sweet voice, followed by the presence of a bluenette, her hair tied in a half-up. A royal blue blazer decorated her lithe form, accompanied by a smart-looking white blouse and a black plaited skirt. Formal had never looked so good on anyone— And if someone didn't know better, they'd think that the bluenette was a young lawyer, emerging victorious from her first successful case.
“Marinette!” Alya exclaimed.
“I’m sorry that you’re such an annoying, little, pest.” Lila bit in the girl’s face, disdain colouring her features as she ignored her mother’s enraged gasp behind her.
The bluenette simply smiled, unaffected by the liar who had crashed and burned like the liar once wished upon her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood at her full height, the perfect image of grace and poise as she maintained her composure, quite unlike her nemesis, who thrashed under her mother’s restraining hands.
“And I’m sorry that you didn’t take my promise to heart.”
this can count as adrien redemption depending on you cause ehhh i dont like how passive he is but i havent caught up with the recent episodes, he might have become better. idk.
also where the hell is my miraculous taglist i cant find it so eep. no tagging ppl ig oops
#miraculous ladybug#the tales of ladybug and chat noir#marinette dupain-cheng#lila rossi#lila salt#rossi salt#ml class#ml salt#ml class salt#marinette deserves better#badass marinette#lila rossi lies#lila's lies are exposed#adrien agrete#alya cesaire#cady writesss «
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wait okay i have so many ideas you have no clue- okay so basically y/n is too scared to confess to either ushijima or shinsou (you decide lol) so he just puts love notes in his locker :)) but ushijima/shinsou catches him one day so he teases him about it but he liked y/n too so he lowkey confesses and its super fluffy i- 🥺🥺 i've had this idea for so long but i have no clue where to start writing it myself lolll
Guess who...took 4 months...to do Mr. Shinsoussimps request...not me...ahahaha...what are you talking about...BUT ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY MR SHINSOU PLS TAKE THIS FIC AS MY APOLOGIES
——————
Ushijima x reader - Secret Admirer Love Letter-kun!
⚠️warnings - none
Pronouns- male, he/him
——————
(Y/n’s) hands shook as he traced the linings of his love letter.
It had a red, heart-shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Ushijima-san’ written in royal purple across the back. The letter had slight crinkles from the shaky grip (Y/n) held it with.
His heart raced purely thinking about how Ushijima would react. Would he even react? Or would he just look at him with that blank stare and walk past him? Would he be ridiculed for being a man giving a love letter to another man?
Every single intrusive thought made (Y/n) want to tear up the letter and flush it down a toilet. Nonetheless, he stood next to Ushijima’s locker, waiting for him to appear.
His legs shook. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He could physically feel the sweat running down his forehead. He was probably gaining stares from other students for standing near Ushijima’s locker and panicking silently.
All these ‘what-if’s’ was beginning to make (Y/n) second-guess his decision. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all...
No! He had to! He’s been harboring his feelings for Ushijima for years now, and he was getting nowhere! Even if it was rejection, and he certainly hoped it was not, he needed an answer!
Just as if right on cue, (Y/n) heard the familiar deep voice of Ushijima coming down the hall. He wasn’t saying much, but the accompanied grunts of acknowledgement to Tendou’s ramblings was enough proof it was him. Without thinking, (Y/n’s) panic took over him, shoving his love letter into Ushijima’s locker and dashing out of the way.
He blended himself in with the gaggle of students near their lockers, watching Ushijima as he opened his own locker.
“Ara?” Tendou cocked his head when the letter (Y/n) slipped in fluttered out. It landed on the floor gracefully. Ushijima bent over and plucked it off the ground.
“Our Wakatoshi~kun has a secwet admiwer?” Tendou squashed his face together and boared curious eyes into the heart-shaped sticker on the note. Ushijima grunted.
“It seems to be a love letter.” Ushijima’s low voice sent even more panic through (Y/n). He didn’t want to be there while he opened the letter. But here he was, 10 feet away from him as he carefully peeled off the heart sticker from the envelope.
Ushijima’s eyes silently scanned the letter, it’s meticulous, thought-out writing filling Ushijima’s eyes. The silence rang so, so loud to (Y/n), as he watched Ushijima read his love letter with his emotionless face.
After what seemed like forever, Ushijima lifted his head up from the note. (Y/n’s) heart stopped.
“It is a love letter.” (Y/n), and Tendou, deadpanned.
Tendou reached for the letter. “Fiiiiine, then let me see-!”
Ushijima pulled the letter away, raising it above his head and out of Tendou’s easy reach. He lowered the letter and cradled it to his chest.
“No. It’s mine.”
(Y/n’s) heart fluttered. Could this mean-?
“But it does, however, have no name.”
“Awh. Poor Wakatoshi-kun’s admirer must be rewwy shy~”
(Y/n) internally facepalmed. Of course he forgot to sign the note! Why wouldn’t he?! (Y/n) crinkled up his nose. He was still determined to get his feelings to Ushijima.
He turned around, and walked to class. The next day, for sure, he was going to give him a love letter with his signature on it this time.
——
(Y/n) stared down at his paper, then shifted his eyes to the alarm clock sitting tauntingly at his dorm room’s desk, with the bright red numbers 10:35 pm glaring so menacingly at him. Like it was telling him to hurry up and sign the new love letter he just wrote. (Y/n) re-read the letter on his desk for the 6th time that night.
Everything was perfect. It explained his feelings perfectly, explained how long he’d been smitten for him for, hell, he even doodled a small picture of Ushijima himself with a heart next to it in the corner of the page.
Everything was there, except his name.
Did he really want to put his name, though? I mean, (Y/n) saw how...endearing Ushiwaka’s face looked reading his original letter. What if he ruined that when he finds out it was him who wrote it? And not some cute girl?
(Y/n) stared at the empty space on the page where his name was supposed to go. His hand gripped his pencil tighter than he should’ve, and began to write.
‘(L/n) (Y/...’
He stopped. (Y/n) thought about it for awhile, then grabbed his eraser and scrubbed at the name until it was pristine white again.
‘Your secret admirer’
Was all he wrote.
He packaged up the note in another small envelope, pressed a cute little heart sticker to the flap, and went to bed.
——
The next day, (Y/n) made sure to rush to school early to slip the note in his locker. He wanted to see his reaction to his new note. It made him feel sorta high. What kind of face would he make? Would he be delighted? He hoped he would.
(Y/n) crammed the note into Ushiwaka’s locker. No one was around. Good. No one saw him shove the letter through, therefore no one could tell Ushijima it was him. (Y/n) sighed contently, and timpered off somewhere secluded, but somewhere he could still see Ushijima and his locker.
After scrolling on his phone for what seemed like an hour, he heard Tendou’s familiar voice, humming a strange song and trailing next to Ushijima. It was his daily indicator that Ushijima was near. If he could hear Tendou coming, almost 100% Ushijima would be there too. (Y/n) pocketed his phone quickly and peeked behind a row of lockers.
Ushijima silently unhinged his locker, listening to Tendou talk. However, they fell silent when another letter fluttered out from his locker, this time landing so perfectly in his hands.
“Ara ara? Another note from Admirer-chan?”
“Yes. But I know it’s a boy, Tendou.”
(Y/n’s) heart dropped. He watched as Ushiwaka peeled off the heart sticker once more, while continuing his conversation with Tendou.
“Oh yeah? How so?”
Ushijima stopped, and reached into his locker once more. He pulled out (Y/n’s) previous note, and pointed to a line of text scribbled on there so neatly. Tendou raised his eyebrow, and leaned down to inspect the note.
‘-Besides, there’s no way someone as amazing as you can like a guy like me. It’s weird right? I hope you don’t think it’s weird. But I wouldn’t blame you.’
“Ahhhh~ makes sense...” Tendou hooked his arms dramatically over the back of his head. “But do you? Does Wakatoshi-kun think Secret Admirer-kun is weird?”
Ushijima traced the two love letters with his eyes. “I think he’s brave.”
(Y/n) clutched his tightening chest. It suddenly became really hard to breathe. How was Ushijima being so unintentionally sweet?
Tendou cooed. “Awwww, Is our Wakatoshi-kun catching feelings for his Admirer-kun?”
Ushijima folded the two notes back into their envelopes silently. He said nothing to Tendou’s remarks, while gently placing the two love letters back into a safe spot in his locker.
(Y/n) brisk-walked away, flustered, before he could hear his answer.
——
Writing notes and hiding them in Ushijima’s locker became a sort of habit for (Y/n) in the past few weeks.
Every now and then, he’d write a short love letter signed “Your Secret Admirer” or “Admirer-kun” and slip it under Ushijima’s dorm room door or the cracks between his locker. It became an addiction of watching him unravel the note with the tenderness of an angel. For such a big dude, he held each love letter (Y/n) wrote him with such delicacy.
(Y/n) walked with a pep in his step as he arrived to the school building early, like he’d usually been doing. He’d recently been writing small letters, playground compliments like “I think you look nice today!” or “the way you play volleyball gets me all fired up!” but this was the first time in a while he wrote a good chunk of his feelings out.
At first he thought he would make Ushijima uncomfortable, but after many of his personal notes filled with the most wonderful explanations of his feelings, or rambling about dates he’d like to take him on, he’s grown more comfortable with it. Especially after seeing the teeny tiny, barely noticeable blush tinting his cheeks as he read them.
(Y/n) stopped in front of Ushiwaka’s locker. It was a familiar stop, after cramming in letter after letter inside for about a month or two now. It’s been so long that (Y/n) couldn’t even remember himself.
Just as his hand met with the cold metal locker to slip the note in, two hands slammed down on (Y/n’s) shoulders, effectively scaring him shitless.
“I’ve caught you! Secret admirer-kun!”
“Uwaaaah!”
Tendou made a show of flamboyantly pointing his lanky fingers at (Y/n), bending his back father then (Y/n) knew was possible in the process. (Y/n) jittered, swinging his hands in front of him while stuttering incoherently.
“I-it-its not-! It’s not wh-what it-! T-the letter-I was just-I-!”
“There’s no use for it now, Secret-Admirer (L/n)-kun! You’ve been caught red handed!” Tendou stuck his tongue out heartily while (Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. If Tendou kept yelling the whole damn school would hear him.
“I-I’m not the one leaving notes in Ushijima-kun’s locker! I was just-!”
“Oya? Then how did you know Wakatoshi-kun was gettin’ notes in his locker in the first place?” Tendou eyed him down half jokingly. (Y/n) sputtered.
“More importantly...” Tendou dramatically pointed to the envelope half-sticking out from the slits of Ushijima’s locker. “Whaaaaats that!?”
“That’s-!”
There was no use fighting Tendou on this. (Y/n) deflated, defeated and grasping on to the wall of lockers for support. “Uuuuu...”
“So, Secret Admirer-“
“S-stop calling me that! Just (L/n) is fine-!”
“-Secret Admirer-kun, what made you fancy our lovely Wakatoshi-kun?”
(Y/n) turned around, facing the locker as Tendou smiled his usual, Tendou-grin. (Y/n) didn’t wanna look at Tendou and his stupid knowing smirk.
“He’s just...I dunno, he’s just so-cool...and stuff...and he’s so nice...looking...”
“Ah, such sophisticated words-tell me, do you write all of this down in the letters you give him?”
“Hey!” (Y/n) whipped his head around.
Tendou chuckled, and part of (Y/n) wanted to smack him upside the head. Tendous laughter eventually died down, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. He looked back at (Y/n), who was blushing profusely and had his arms crossed.
“Phew...haha...” Tendou cleared his throat. He pointed straight at (Y/n). “Now, here’s some ultra wise words from Satori-sama!” He mimicked a fake drum roll on his lap, before pointing at (Y/n) again.
“Ja-jun~! You should Wakatoshi-kun how you feel about him!”
(Y/n’s) heart got stuck in his throat. “A-are you crazy! I could never! I-I’m not...I’m not...I’m scared..”
“Hm? But you’re not scared to write about how much you wanna kiss him alllllllll oveeeeeer-?”
“That’s different!” (Y/n) yelled, more quietly this time. He turned back to the locker, and tipped the rest of the note in sticking out inside the slit. The note disappeared through the gap, just like all of its predecessors. “Like this, I can tell him how much I love him without him knowing it was from me! What if he’s disappointed it’s me and not some other dude?”
“I’m veeeeeery sure he won’t be. But suit yourself, I guess.” Tendou shrugged. He turned around and left, but not before saying,
“But you’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.”
“Wait-what does that mea-“
(Y/n) looked back, only to find Tendou gone. (Y/n) stood there, perplexed, before dashing off to his own locker, so he wouldn’t be spotted near Ushijima’s.
——
Everyday when (Y/n) went to slip another note into Ushiwaka’s locker, Tendou’s words would ring in his mind.
‘You’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.’
He knew that. He knew that but he couldn’t stop himself from cowardly slipping notes into Ushijima’s locker, just to run and take cover as he opened them up. And one time he could swear Tendou was looking right at him in his hiding spot when Ushijima was reading one of his letter.
(Y/n) shook the thoughts from his head. That happened 3 days ago, and nothing happened. Tendou was probably just trying to scare him into telling him. Yeah. There’s no way anyone could’ve found out about him being Ushijima’s secret admirer.
He huffed and strode up to Ushijima’s locker, just like he did every time before that. No one was in the hallway. There was no footsteps, at least to (Y/n’s) knowledge, and Tendou wasn’t around with his booming voice. If (Y/n) could hear Tendou coming, chances are Ushijima was not too far behind.
Tendou wasn’t there. (Y/n) was safe. He smiled and rose the letter up to the slot in Ushijima’s locker. He slowly crammed the note in, slowly, slowly until-
Slam!
A large, calloused hand slammed against the locker, making (Y/n) jolt up in surprise. (Y/n’s) heart stopped beating. He felt someone lean against his ear, and then they whispered:
“So Tendou was right. You were the one leaving the letters in my locker.”
“Ushijima-kun-!”
(Y/n) whipped his head around by the speed of lightning, pressing himself against the locker wall as if he’d disappear into it. Stupid fucking Tendou! Of course he’d tell Ushijima!
Ushiwaka didn’t move from his spot in front of (Y/n). His arm outstretched on the wall beside (Y/n) didn’t falter either, making him blush even more. God, he wanted to disappear.
The letter, now hidden crudely behind (Y/n) sweaty back, was being smushed as he tried shrinking in on himself.
“I-I-“ (Y/n’s) mouth ran dry. “It’s not what it looks like-!”
“Hm.” Ushijima’s deep voice manage to startle (Y/n), despite being right infront of him. God, he was close. So close. He’s too close. Oh god, why is he so close?
Ushijima suddenly grabbed (Y/n’s) hand, making him sputter in surprise as Ushijima pulled it out gently. A letter with a red heart sticker on the flap was wedged in between (Y/n’s) shaky, sweaty fingers. Ushijima looked at the envelope, while (Y/n) averted his embarrassed eyes.
“...But it’s exactly what it looks like.”
Words perished in (Y/n’s) throat. If the locker would just open up and swallow him whole, now was the time.
Ushiwaka plucked the note out of (Y/n’s) hands, ignoring the small protests of (Y/n) himself. He tried to grab for the letter, but Ushijima held the envelope high above his head and grabbed at (Y/n’s) shivering wrists. (Y/n) squeaked.
“...why are you trying to grab it back if this letter was meant for me in the first place?” Ushijima looked oblivious to (Y/n’s) embarrassment. (Y/n) croaked. He didn’t even register what Ushiwaka said with how strong and warm his grip on his wrists were.
He didn’t realize Ushijima managed to peel off the heart sticker and fish out the note with his hand until he started reading the letter. His eyes scanned the words, even when (Y/n) quietly squirmed protestingly in his grasp.
“Mm.” Ushijima hummed. (Y/n’s) eyes widened when he realized what he wrote in today’s note.
‘Y’know, I think you’re really cool with how you’re so dedicated to your club. But maybe...one day we could grab a bite to eat after your club activities? Just you and me? And maybe if I’m lucky enough I just might get a kiss from the amazing Ushijima Wakatoshi-kun~’
(Y/n) wanted no more but to die then and there. Ushijima looked at (Y/n) with an unreadable gaze.
“Ah. So it seems in today’s letter, you would like to go out for food and kiss. I am free after club activities today at 6. Are you free at that time or must we reschedule?”
(Y/n) met Ushijima’s state with a confused face. He said nothing-he couldn’t say anything. All he could do was muster up a weak “w-wha..?”
“So...you are not free today...?” Ushijima’s face was normal, but he gave off the same vibe a sad, kicked puppy would. It was sorta cute. (Y/n) waved his hands around frantically in Ushijima’s grasp.
“N-no! That’s not it! I-I’m free! I’m totally free! I just-“
“You just what?” Ushijima cocked his head to the side bluntly. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it clamp shut quietly.
(Y/n) averted his gaze. “Well...you don’t think it’s...weird that I was the one leaving you love letters?”
“But I already knew you were a man in the first place.”
“Still!” Ushijima was genuinely confused. (Y/n’s) voice died down a bit.
“Aren’t you...y’know...disappointed?”
Ushijima’s gaze never left (Y/n’s) eyes. “Why would I be disappointed?”
“I’m...w-well...it’s just...”
Ushiwaka placed his free hand on the other side of (Y/n’s) face, effectively trapping him in between his arms. Ushijima’s heavy gaze was too much to bear. (Y/n) instinctively averted his gaze away.
“You still haven’t given me a valid reason to be disappointed.”
“I-“
“You’re lovely, I believe you are very attractive, and you leave nice letters of encouragement in my locker everyday.”
“Wait-“
“I believe we both have feelings for each other. Therefore, I do not see why you are so hesitant on just doing what today’s lovely note said.”
“Ushi-“
“Is this just an excuse to turn me down? Were the letters not your true feelings? Because if so you just have to say so-“
“Ushijima-kun!”
(Y/n) rasped out between his fingers. He was covering his blushing face, and Ushijima didn’t know why until he realized his face was centimeters away from (Y/n’s). If it weren’t for (Y/n’s) hands cupping his face, they’d probably be able to kiss with one push closer.
“P-ple-please s-step back...”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Ushijima moved back, but didn’t quite move his arms from their positions on either side of (Y/n). He blinked. Silence engulfed them both, Ushijima bluntly staring at (Y/n) as he blushed and blushed into his hands.
Ushijima figured he should say something, and even open his mouth to speak when (Y/n) suddenly piped up, bringing his hands down from his face.
“I-I’m free...at 6...”
Ushijima blinked again.
“Ah. Today?”
“Yeah..!”
“Lovely. It is decided then. Will you wait for me at the gym after practice? If not I can pick you up from your dorm room.”
(Y/n) fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if he was dreaming or not. “I-I can meet you at the gym!”
Ushijima smiled gently, and that’s probably the first time (Y/n’s) seen him smile ever. It was so coaxing, relaxed and warm, (Y/n) wanted to take of picture of it and just stare at it for days. Ushijima let his hands fall to his sides. Not before giving a pat to (Y/n’s) head.
“It is decided then. It’s a date.”
(Y/n) had to remind himself to thank Tendou later.
——————
Lowkey this was so fun to write~ why don’t y’all leave some love in the comments because of that~~?
#ushiwaka x male reader#ushijima x male reader#wakatoshiushijima#ushijima wakatoshi#ushy gushy#hq x y/n#hq x male reader#hq ushijima#hq x reader#haikyuu x male reader#haikyuu x reader#ushijima x you#ushijima x reader#ushijima x y/n#mr shinsoussimp
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍 ⇢ keith kogane, ch. 1
keith kogane x gn! reader – next
DISCLAIMER! this story does not originally belong to me, the author is @MaddieWolf37 on Wattpad. i have simply received permission to rewrite and continue her story. go and check out her profile for the original version!
SYNOPSIS! a story in which you are thrown into the middle of an intergalactic space war and have the undesirable weight of being a symbol of peace dropped on your shoulders. but maybe if you look past the constant danger and endless fighting, there's some good to being a paladin of voltron.
MATURE CONTENT! swearing, violence, gore, war, graphic descriptions, mentions of self-harm
"Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14," Lance announces, "Begin descent to Kerberos for a rescue mission."
He shoves the yoke forward and the aircraft takes a steep dive. You plant your feet to help fight against the inertia. You give him a sharp glare as the aircraft steadies out.
"Ugh, Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" Hunk whines from the back.
You look over your shoulder and recognise the nauseated expression on his face all too well. Last semester, there was a girl on your team that didn't do too well with excessive motion and often got sick.
Lance brushes him off. "Relax Hunk, I'm just getting a feel for the stick," he says with a lazy grin, which quickly turns mischievous. "It's not like I did this, or this!" Lance jerks the aircraft side to side, making Hunk feel worse.
"Knock it off, Lance," you warn from your chair next to him. You reach up above you and press a few buttons in hopes of stabilising the aircraft out after Lance's little joke.
"Yeah, listen to [y/n] unless you wanna wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing," Hunk groans angrily.
"We've picked up a distress signal!" Pidge says from his seat in the back.
"Alright, time to quit our bickering and get serious," you say, doing your own little thing to accommodate for the lower altitude while Lance flies the aircraft.
"Pidge, track the coordinates," Lance says with a roll of his eyes at your comment.
Pidge does so, typing away on the computer. The aircraft gives a large rumble and Hunk groans again.
"Knock it off, Lance! Please!" he whines, his face all scrunched up in discomfort.
"Oh, that's on you buddy," Lance says sharply. "We got a hydraulic stabiliser out."
Hunk nods and goes to fix it, but when the aircraft shakes again he gags. "Oh no."
"Oh no, fix now, puke later," Lance growls.
So much bickering... you think to yourself with a sigh.
"I lost contact!" Pidge says. "The shaking is interfering with our sensors."
Lance looks over his shoulder at Hunk. "Come on, dude!"
"Sorry, it's not responding," Hunk says and unfastens his safety belt. He carefully gets up and makes his way over to the gearbox to see what's up.
"Coordinates are back," you say, seeing the blue dot on the dash.
"Nevermind Hunk," Lance says.
"No, he still needs to fix it," you say. "We can't properly fly this thing if a hydraulic stabiliser is out."
"Whatever," Lance rolls his eyes, "Preparing for approach on visual."
"I don't think that's advisable, given our current mechanical..." Pidge warns, trailing off when he hears Hunk gag again. "...and gastrointestinal issues..."
"Agreed!" Hunk says, not before quickly emptying his stomach into the gearbox with the unsavoury sounds of food chunks and liquid hitting the metal. You cringe, not liking the sound, and hope he's okay.
"Stop worrying," Lance says dismissively.
"No, they're right," you say firmly as you place your attention on Lance now. "We should wait before we do anything."
"Nah, this baby can take it! Can't ya champ?" Lance coos and pats the dash. The aircraft rumbles again and he retracts his hand with a sheepish look. "See? She was nodding!"
"That wasn't nodding Lance," you deadpan. "Now listen to us and wait."
"I'm the one flying this thing, aren't I?" Lance asks. "So I'm in charge, and that means what I say goes!"
"Excuse you, we're both flying this thing," you argue.
Ignoring you, Lance turns to Pidge. "Pidge, hail down on them and let them know their ride is here," he says.
Knowing that you're now doomed, you keep your mouth shut and wait for the inevitable failure of the simulation. You can already see it, the big, bold, red letters appearing on the dash.
And when Lance flies towards an overhang, tilting the plane as much as he can in a sad attempt to thread through the little hole rather than going over or around, you know this is where you fail.
Lance doesn't make it. The wing gets torn off, the alarms blare, and the aircraft pummels to the ground. The dash goes black and those red letters you were anticipating appear without hesitation.
Simulation Failed.
The first failure on your school record.
You toss your head back and sharply exhale, frustration building up in you. "Nice going," you grumble and look at Lance through the corner of your eye.
He catches your gaze and glares at you. "Oh, shut up," he growls.
The four of you sit in silence for a second, you and Lance glaring at each other, before an instructor opens the door and beckons you to come out.
Reluctantly, you all unfasten your safety belts and crawl out of the aircraft. You then mentally prepare yourselves for the lecture about how you are all failures to come.
You, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge line up before the Commander, avoiding his scowling gaze.
"Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you," Commander Iverson's voice booms angrily. He's not at all impressed with your behaviour. "Can anyone point out the mistakes these so-called cadets made during the simulator?"
"The engineer puked in the main gearbox!" a boy from the back of the group of students shouts out. Iverson nods and turns to Hunk.
"Yes. Everyone knows vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems," Iverson sharply criticises Hunk. He turns back to the students. "What else?"
"The comms-spec removed his safety harness," a girl points out.
"The pilot crashed!" another shouts.
Iverson nods, approving of all the answers given. "And worst of all, the whole jump they're arguing with each other," he growls and turns to the four of you once more.
You keep your gaze on the ground shamefully.
"The Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astro-explorers," Iverson lectures. His hands are on his hips as he looks down at you. "But these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what caused the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission."
In your peripherals, you notice Pidge clench his fists at his sides and scrunch his nose up in anger. You fully turn your head to him when he takes a bold step towards the Commander.
"That's not true, sir!" he barks.
Iverson looks at him and glares. "What was that, young man?" he growls.
Lance quickly slaps a hand over Pidge's mouth and pulls him back in line. "Sorry, sir! He must've hit his head when he fell!" he says, smiling sheepishly in a sad attempt to cover up his fear. His hand gets tighter over Pidge's mouth, almost as if he's asking the ginger what the hell is wrong with him.
With Lance speaking up, Iverson's attention is now pinpointed on him. He takes a few steps closer to Lance, his intimidating figure making your brother cower back a bit.
"I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here," he growls, his tone of voice menacing and powerful, "is because the best pilot in your class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out."
Lance drops his gaze down to the floor, a look of dejection taking over his face.
"Don't follow in his footsteps," Iverson warns. He stares Lance down a bit before abruptly turning to you. "And you!" he barks.
Your entire body freezes up and your eyes wearily follow him as he stops in front of you now. Your heart sinks down to your gut.
"I expected better of you."
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You returned to your dorm at the end of the day with a cloud over your head.
You grumble about the day's events as you aggressively tug your shirt over your head. You really wish you could pinpoint the source of your frustration. Are you mad at my brother? Your team? Or yourself?
You toss your clothes on the floor and pull out some track shorts and a hoodie from your dresser. Getting dressed in your pajamas for the rest of the night, you try to sort out your emotions.
"Stop mumbling to yourself," your roommate says from her bed.
You turn to her. "Ah, sorry," you say. "I didn't realise I was talking out loud..."
"If you're that mad at your brother why don't you just punch him?" she asks. You blink, surprised she actually heard you.
"I'm not violent like you," you say with a sigh. "Besides, I don't even know if I'm mad at him specifically."
"Eh, I would punch him either way," your roommate shrugs. "It's a good way to alleviate your stress."
You roll your eyes. "I alleviate my stress by sleeping."
Your roommate laughs. "Ain't that the truth?" she jests. "How many times have you taken a nap between classes this week?"
You stare at her with a blank expression for a moment before picking your clothes up and off of the ground. "I'm not answering that," you say and toss them into the hamper.
You and your roommate pause when there's a knock on the door. You look at her and she looks at you.
She raises her hands up. "And I'm not answering that," she says.
You roll your eyes and grab one of the dirty articles of clothing you tossed into the hamper and throw at her without any remorse. She yelps in fear and disgust as you walk to the door with a smirk on your face.
"Don't throw your nasty underwear at me!" she barks and she pinches the panties between her thumb and index finger, tossing them as far away from her as possible.
You cackle and open the door. Your laughter cuts short when you're suddenly face to face with your brother. Hunk stands behind him.
"What are you doing in the girls' dorm?" you ask, but then take the opportunity you just created for yourself to tease your dear elder brother. You think of it as a bit of revenge for crashing the simulator. "Visiting someone?"
Lance rolls his eyes. "Heh, I wish," he sighs. "But no. We're thinking about hitting the town tonight! You know, for some team bonding?"
"Who is it?" your roommate calls to you.
"Lance and Hunk," you say over your shoulder at her.
"Punch him!" she shouts back.
"No!" you hiss and turn back to your brother.
"I don't like your roommate," Lance comments under his breath.
"Neither do I," you joke.
"I heard that!" your roommate barks.
"No you didn't!" you ready. But getting the feeling that she's going to keep interrupting, you push Lance out of your way and step into the hall with him and Hunk. You then close the door and give the boys your full attention.
"So, you're gonna come with us?" Lance asks.
"I don't know," you say with uncertainty in your tone. You cross your arms. "It's past curfew and I don't really think you have off-campus privileges..."
"That doesn't matter," Lance waves his hand dismissively. "Iverson wants us to bond as a team, so why don't we listen to him for once?"
"I'm not feeling that adventurous," you say.
"What? Why not? It'll be fun!" Lance cajoles.
"Lance, your idea of fun always ends up with you and me in the principal's office," Hunk reminds. "Don't drag your little sibling into it."
"Hunk has a point," you say. "I don't want to get in trouble again. I had my filling for today."
"Since when were you a goodie-two-shoes?" Lance asks in a somewhat offended tone.
"Since I got a scholarship here?" you quirk an eyebrow at him.
"Who are you and what have you done with my sibling?" Lance says as he gives you a look of utter betrayal, as if you were some alien.
You roll your eyes. "I'm not too keen on losing something like that because I went along with your dumb shenanigans," you sigh.
"Please, the max punishment for something like this is just a weekend detention with old man Brechin," Lance says and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "That is, if you get caught."
You bite your lip, looking away in thought. Team bonding sounds very appealing after what happened today, but are you willing to risk your scholarship? You don't know if you can lose it because of a simple detention. The Galaxy Garrison is a government program, which means they are pretty strict.
"Do you really need to think about it?" Lance asks with raised eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're scared!"
His words irk you immensely.
You snap your gaze up to him. Is he serious? You aren't scared. Why would you be scared of sneaking out?
You silently walk back into your dorm and quickly throw a bra on, some socks, and your shoes.
"Where are you going?" your roommate asks as she watches you scramble about the room with a sense of purpose all of a sudden.
"Team bonding," you say, now tying the laces of your shoes.
"This late? Are you sure?" she asks.
"All common sense in me left the moment Lance basically called me a scaredy-cat," you say bluntly.
"Well, have fun," your roommate says.
You give her a small salute as you walk out of the dorm. "I'll be back by morning."
"Alright, see ya!"
You close the door and turn to Lance and Hunk expectantly. "Well?"
Lance gives you a cocky grin, proud of his persuasion skills. You suddenly consider your roommate's suggestion for a second.
"We need to go grab Pidge," Lance says. "It won't be team bonding if someone's missing. You gotta have everybody."
You shrug, doubting Pidge will join.
Lance takes the liberty of leading the way to the boys' dorm, you and Hunk following closely behind. You expertly dodge the officers patrolling the halls making sure students are in their dorms like ninjas on a stealth mission.
As Lance rounds a corner, he suddenly stops and back peddles quickly. He peeks around the corner and watches whatever is on the other side. Curious, you and Hunk sneak up close to Lance and peek as well.
Pidge steps out of his room, a backpack swung over his shoulders. He checks his surroundings before closing the door and running off.
You, Lance, and Hunk share a look. You all then telepathically agree to follow the small boy. Once again, Lance takes the lead.
#voltron#wattpad#keith#voltron keith#keith kogane#x reader#keith x reader#gender neutral reader#vld#vld fanfic#fanfiction#vld keith
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