#doodling to stay productive

[feral-ferengi]

Silly 'Ménage á Troi' doodles (starring Rikerrr)

[outer-andromeda]

More ENA OC doodles :DDD

[gildedoak]

Quick preview for Valentine’s Day!! I have been COOKING the past few weeks! It’s been a good way to distract me from all the shitty news happening here in the US.

Here, have my doodle from my lunch break yesterday.

[reddoonsn1fan]

woh it’s branzycraft from the branzycraft show!!!! ^_^

[pumaskulls]

having the everything happen to you at once is not fun, can confirm

[ghostorbz]

I have issues

[lokidjarin-7567]

The Alchemy

Hwang In-ho (professor AU) x Reader

Your chemistry professor caught your eye the moment you walked into class, and as time went on, you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore. Did he feel it too, or were you doomed to heartbreak?

fem!reader x Professor Hwang In-ho, smut, fluff, a little angst and everything in between, badly edited, multiple POV, 18+ MDNI

8.5k words (sorry not sorry)

And here it is!! I’ve been obsessed with him for a while now, so very glad Squid Game is giving him the recognition he deserves from a Western audience. Decided to da a Professor AU because yum, so hope you enjoy x

Taglist: @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @nunita23

TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You knew it was wrong. Your obsession with him. Everything about him was thoroughly captivating to you: the way he spoke, the way he dressed, the way he walked around the lecture hall with such confidence. You were enthralled every single lesson, so attentive and studious, hanging on his every last word like it was some kind of spell for everlasting life. Really, if you thought about it, it was actuallly a good thing. Your grades were better, you hadn’t missed a single lecture since the term began, and you were putting more effort into your studies in a desperate effort to impress him. And the cherry on top of the cake was that he had noticed. He knew you by name, he always picked you first if you had your hand up, and he even added complimentary comments to your papers. Even if he was old enough to be your dad, even if there was a power imbalance, even if nothing could ever happen between you, your crush only continued to grow stronger.

“I know, I know, class is nearly over, but we’ve got a few more things to cover, so let’s wake you all up with a little organic pop-quiz.” A few groans echoed around the room, but you smiled. Organic chemistry was your favourite, especially when he taught it, so you watched as he drew a few molecules on the whiteboard. A formula, and a damn easy one.

“Can anyone tell me the primary product here?” Your hand was up before the question was finished, but you tried to limit your keen nature - only half-raising your hand lazily as you doodled the finished equation on your notepad. You liked to think you were quite good at hiding your adoration for him. Yes, you could listen to him talk for hours, but you knew when to watch him and when to take notes. You knew when to speak up and when to stay quiet. You could control your face, aside from the occasional blush, never sitting there with puppy-dog eyes or biting your pen like they do in the movies. You were subtle - small smiles after a compliment, gazing with admiration when he wasn’t looking, answering any questions quickly but with professionalism and confidence. The perfect student. But you never, ever flirted. You knew that was academic suicide, especially with a Professor as influential as him. You were content with detached obsession. For now, at least.

Your heart did flutter, though, at the smile and small chuckle he gave when he saw your hand.

“Of course, the only student I have that actually enjoys organic…” You heard a few hums of agreement from the students behind you, saw the nods from the ones in front. You smiled at your reputation.

“What can I say, at least you always have someone to answer your questions…” Another laugh, music to your ears.

“That is true. Go ahead.”

“Well, that’s ethanol and that’s ethanoic acid so you would produce ethyl ethanoate.”

“Ah, I made it too easy for you! Should have mixed up the length of the polymers so you would have to think about which prefix came first.” Another flash of a smile.

“Rookie error.” You joked, and it was the closest you’d ever been to flirting. The back and forth was making you blush, the way his eyes were fixed to you from the front of the classroom. You were in your usual spot in the third row - the perfect distance to see him clearly, but not too close to look keen. Although, that point was kind of defeated by the amount of times your hand was first up, no matter how nonchalantly you tried to do it. His eyes were glittering with a slight playfulness now, head slightly cocked and you were bewitched as a few locks of his neat hair fell across his forehead.

“In that case, come and draw it for me please.” Fuck. He looked pleased with himself, hand brushing the fallen strands back, small smirk playing across his features. You sighed, heading to the front of the room in defeat. He handed you the whiteboard pen, fingers brushing yours just slightly. They were soft, delicate and warm, and his eyes were firmly fixed on you as you muttered a quiet thank you. You didn’t get to see him this close often, but you didn’t have time to take him in beyond the deep brown of his eyes, his height compared to yours, and the light scent of sandalwood that seemed to cling to the air around him even after he had walked past you back to the front of the room.

“While she’s doing that, can someone else tell me the uses of this ester please?” You were grateful your back was to the rest of the class, a furious blush spreading across your cheeks at the proximity. He glanced back at your shorthand sketch, giving you a small nod of encouragement.

“Good, and in full please.” You obeyed wordlessly, just finishing the second bond on the oxygen when the bell rang.

“That’s it for today then, everybody. Check the online portal for the homework.” He called out above the sound of bags being packed. “Oh, and there are more practical classes this term, so your timetables are also on the portal for those. I know they’re boring, and I know you’ve done them all a million times, but you have to do them again to pass!” He sighed, half the class already gone by the time he finished his sentence. He turned back to you, holding his hand out with a smile and you passed the marker back to him, careful not to brush his hand this time. As much as you wanted to feel his skin against yours again, you would blush too obviously to get away with it. “Thank you,” he said to you quietly, “I know at least one student will show for the practicals.”

“No worries.” You didn’t want to leave yet, allowing yourself to enjoy the being around him a little now the rest of the class was clearing out. He was wearing your favourite suit today - charcoal grey wool - with a soft, baby blue shirt and a navy tie. He was meticulous as ever: understated silver tie pin perfectly level, tie itself knotted immaculately, hair brushed back neatly. Even his shoes were perfect, not a single scuff on the leather. Being around him like this was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but talk to him just a little more as the last student filed out of the room. “What will the first practical be, out of interest?” You asked, forcing yourself to move back to your desk and slowly pack up your things.

“Just a distillation, I think...” He replied, trailing off and absentmindedly flicking through a few papers on his desk. You nodded, sensing his loss of interest, slinging your bag over your shoulder with just a hint of disappointment.

“Ok, sounds good. Thank you Professor…” You turned towards the door, but froze when you heard him call your name. You turned back around to see him looking at you slightly expectantly, a nervous energy buzzing from him that you’d never seen before.

“Before you go, I was just wondering if you’d picked an advisor yet? I know the decision is coming up in a few weeks.”

“No, I haven’t actually…” In all honestly, you had two options. And he was one of them. Of course he was. He was the best in the university, not to mention one of the best in his field. You learnt the most from him, you had the best relationship with him compared to the rest of your Professors. There were only two reasons why he wouldn’t be a perfect choice. Firstly, he was very picky with who he takes on, but if this conversation was going the way you thought it was, problem solved. The second, and much bigger, issue was your little obsession. If he was your advisor, you would see him one-on-one every two weeks at least, on top of class time, practicals time and in between all of that if you had questions. And for most people that had a crippling crush like you did, they would be jumping for joy at the opportunity to spend more quality time with them. But you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to make a move on him, or make your feelings for him obvious because it could destroy everything you had worked so hard towards. But equally, having him on your side was a great accolade, and it would do you wonders in your academic career.

You were a big girl. You could handle a little crush.

“Well…” He continued, hand running through his hair again before starting to pack up his own things. “I would very much like to fill that role unless you had anyone else in mind. You’re incredibly talented, and passionate about the subject in a way I don’t see often. You don’t have to decide right now, of course…”

“I would love that.” Your mouth had answered before your brain caught up, but his wide smile solidified your resolve.

“Excellent. Well, how does Friday sound for our first meeting? I think that’s when you’re scheduled for the practical, so that makes it easy…”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you, again, Professor Hwang, I appreciate the opportunity…”

“Not at all. The pleasure is all mine.” His wide smile warmed your heart thoroughly, and you left before you could melt into a puddle on the floor at the nature of his words.

It had been a couple of months now, and dear God, it was driving you insane. You’d made a huge mistake, and unfortunately for you, it was an unfixable one. He was the perfect advisor in every way - attentive, intelligent, willing, passionate, everything you could ever want. But being so close to him was driving you crazy. Once a fortnight, it was just you and him in his office, talking for an hour, joking, laughing, fighting every urge in your body to climb across the desk and give in to your desires. You had even started to dress up for him - purposely putting in extra effort the days you knew you had a meeting. The crush was getting much worse too, obsession starting to take over. For days after your meeting, all you could do was analyse every tiny interaction you had, every time he looked at you or spoke to you or even breathed differently. And fucking hell it was driving you insane.

You were sure it was getting harder to hide too. Before, it was less of a crush, more an admiration. Yes, you were aware he was attractive, but more than anything, you were capitavated by his teaching and passion. Now, all of that was still true, but all you could think about was how much you wanted to fuck him. Twice just that week you had missed half the class caught up in a daydream, not even being able to answer him when he called on you, too busy thinking about him bending you over his desk and having his way with you. Your last paper got a B because every time you tried to write, all you could think about was him reading it. What he would be wearing when he graded it at home. Comfortable clothes, surely, hair messy and uncouth. What he would think of it, whether he would smile at your words and add little notes when he agreed with what you were saying. Whether he truly thought as much about you while reading it as you thought of him while writing it.

You’d fucked up. You’d gotten too close, irreversibly so, and now, you had to see him today. You knew he would have something to say about your grades dropping. It was getting too obvious. You just hoped he would accept whatever bullshit you managed to invent on the spot. Your knuckles rapped against his office door, heart stuck in your throat.

**

She had caught his eye the minute she stepped into his lecture hall that first day of term. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly about her, whether it was her eyes, or hair, or lips. Or maybe it was just her. The confidence she seemed to exude, her sense of style, the studious and determined look she always seemed to have on her face. She was the most active participant in his classes, and every time he called on her, she would answer with such enthusiasm and excitement. He could tell how much she genuinely enjoyed the subject from the very first lesson, and even as the term continued, her passion didn't waver like some students’ did. She hadn’t missed a single lecture - always there in the same spot on the third row, and he was grateful for her choice of seat. It was close enough to see her, not too close to make it obvious that he was staring, and it was also far enough into the classroom that he had time to admire her while she made her way to her seat. To watch her while she was focussed elsewhere - namely, walking down the stairs without falling over. He enjoyed the time it gave him to work out how she was feeling on a day, whether she seemed dejected or excited, shy or outgoing. He liked how easy it was for him to read her.

And, if he was honest with himself, he liked the attention too. The first time he saw her, he knew he would be head over heels for a little while, and he accepted that. She was his student, and nothing could happen, so he buried it and got on with his lectures as usual, with only a few extra glances thrown her way when he knew she wouldn't be looking. But then he noticed it. The coy smiles, the extended glances, the occasional time he caught her biting her lip or pen. The way she blushed furiously if he ever caught her in the act. The first few times, he wrote it off as coincidence and wishful thinking, but eventually, it clicked that there was something there. Something charged. And he thrived off that energy.

That was why he had put forward the idea of being her advisor. If he was honest, he knew it was a terrible idea. That it could get messy, that he could get too close, that he would hurt his own feelings. But ultimately, he wanted to be near her as much as possible, and at the end of the day, in every scenario of shit hitting the fan, he was always the one that got fucked over. His feelings were clearly stronger than hers - something he had noticed recently swelling in his heart unreciprocated - and he was the one with his job on the line. He was the only one at risk, and he was willing to take that risk to be closer to her.

Recently, though, she’d seemed different. Distracted. Stressed. Avoidant. Her grades were dropping, she was barely talking in class and when he spoke to her one-on-one, he would catch her shrinking back into herself if she laughed too much, as though she was second guessing everything she did. He’d done everything to hide his feelings, and honestly, he thought he was doing a good job, but maybe she felt uncomfortable around him. Maybe he was being obvious and he’d misread her feelings. Or maybe she was just going through a rough patch in her personal life.

He had a meeting with her today, and he couldn’t think of anything but seeing her for the whole day. What she would be wearing, how or if he would broach the topic, what he should even say to her… He was struggling to concentrate on his lectures, mind wandering to her.

The relief washed through his body when he heard her knuckles softly knock against the door. He was worried she wouldn’t even come.

“Come in.” She opened the door cautiously, small smile on her lips. She looked more beautiful than she ever had somehow. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, just some natural blush and mascara, and her hair was down and framing her face perfectly. Her outfit was simple but classy; all black, simple satin skirt and skintight tee, chunky knit cardigan over the top.

“Hi Professor.” She replied cheerily, but there was a hint of something unreadable in her voice. Weariness, maybe? Stress? “How has your day been?” He smiled as they fell into their usual chatty routine, mind slightly at ease.

“Not too bad, thank you, although a few too many lectures for my liking. How was yours?” She laughed lightly, the sound warming his heart.

“Same problem for me too. A lot of lectures, none of them particularly interesting…” it seemed as though she wanted to say something else but bit her tongue, and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He wanted her to be able to feel more comfortable around him, but she was holding herself back.

“That’s because I wasn’t teaching them…” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, but to his relief, she smiled, a small chuckle escaping from her.

“Something like that.” She paused for a beat, seeming awkward and unsure. “Look, Professor, before we get into the stuff about my dissertation, I just wanted to talk to you about something…” The serious nature of her tone made his heart lurch, and he wanted to reach out and hold her hands, to drain away her evident nerves. She wasn’t even meeting his eyes, just wringing her hands in her lap as she tried to say what she needed to.

“Of course, my office is always an open space to talk about whatever you need to.” He hoped his words were comforting, and by her small smile, they had at least offered some small reassurance.

“I just wanted to apologise. I know my grades have been slipping a little the past few weeks, and I just wanted to make sure you knew that I’m on it and I’m doing everything to get them back up. I think I’ve just been a little distracted, and I don’t know really…” She was rambling, and his heart hurt for her. Yes, he had noticed her grades slipping a little, but it was from an A to a B for maybe two papers and a quiz. It wouldn’t affect her overall grade, and it certainly wouldn’t affect his opinion of her. He couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the need to apologise or explain herself.

“You have no reason to apologise. Everyone has better weeks than others, and it’s not going to affect your performance in my class or anything like that…”

“But…” she looked confused, as though she was genuinely trying to figure out why he wasn’t annoyed with her. “You’re Professor Hwang. I mean, you’re the best in your department, maybe even in the whole university. You pick your students that you want to advise because they’re the best, and I’ve not been…”

“First of all, I definitely am the best Professor in the *whole university*, thank you, but more importantly, that’s not why I pick people to mentor. I pick people based on their passion, talent, and work ethic. Not because they’re a machine who churns out A* papers every single week and has nothing else going on in their life that might affect that.” Once he’d finished talking, he looked up at her to see her close to tears, still staring at her hands in her lap.

“I, um…” she cleared her throat, finally meeting his eyes with a gratefulness he hadn’t seen in her before. A vulnerability he didn’t recognise, but wanted to see more of nonetheless. “Thank you for saying that. Really. None of my other Professors seem to think in that way.” Then under her breath, barely audible, she added something extra. “Neither do my family for that matter.”

“Well, as I said, my office is always open. If you ever have something you need to talk about, I’m here.”

“Thank you, truly.” She replied earnestly, and found himself struggling to reply as his heart swelled. He hadn’t realised how protective he felt over her until he saw her upset, but now, hand clenched by his side at the thought of someone making her feel unworthy over a few grades, he realised that maybe his feelings had blossomed a little more than he wanted them to.

The day after was another practical class. Just a titration, a check box more than anything with the calibre of his students. They knew what they were doing. Especially her. It would hopefully be an easy half hour; just let them do their thing, tick it off in the system, and be finished with it.

What he hadn't banked on, however, was the student that seemed to spend his whole time flirting with her.

She had been the first in the classroom that afternoon. She seemed tired, the last lesson after a likely busy day, but even more so than usual, her normally flawless makeup doing little to hide the puffy bags under her eyes. Her outfit was clean and put together, but a lot more basic than what she usually wore, just jeans and a baby tee, with none of her usual quirky flourishes. He was about to ask if she was ok, to talk to her more than the perfunctory hello she had thrown his way at the door when another student entered the classroom close behind her. The whole space was empty, but he decided to sit directly beside her. She seemed annoyed, making polite small talk but not much else and he just didn't seem to be taking the hint. He was leaning too close, laughing too loud, looking at her for too long…

His own jealousy surprised him. It was rage, pure and simple, white hot and blinding. He felt inordinately possessive, wanting nothing more than to shove him across the classroom and teach him a lesson about personal space, but as more students piled in to the space, all he could do was glare and hope he got the hint. Eventually though, she solved the problem herself. He had been so close to interfering, so blinded by anger he had started to move towards her bench, but she just stood up, and walked away from him mid sentence, ignoring him completely. The look of shock on his face was priceless, but the joy it brought him was quickly replaced with anger once again as the kid shifted in his seat, blushing red and muttering ‘bitch’ under his breath. If In-ho had a knife, he genuinely could have killed him in that moment. Because how fucking dare he.

But instead, he breathed in deeply before moving over to him calmly and giving him a menacing, tight-lipped smile. The student met his eyes with a perplexed look, but he just spoke over him before he had a chance to say anything else.

“If you ever talk about one of my students, let alone a woman, like that again, you will be barred from my class and the entirety of the chemistry department for the rest of your academic career, both at this school and wherever else you may choose to study. Is that crystal clear?” He said it so calmly, so coldly, that the kid just sat there in stunned silence for a moment, and he had to raise his eyebrow to prompt him to answer.

“Um… yes… yes Professor.” He stammered, and he smiled again without any warmth.

“Good, now find a new desk and complete your practical, or else you’ll have to retake my class, and you really don't want that, do you?” He shook his head frantically, scrambling away with his things and finding a space near the back of the room.

She looked confused for a moment when she got back to the now empty bench, but on glancing around the room and meeting his eyes, she smiled warmly at him in gratitude, blush spreading across her cheeks. He would do anything if it meant she smiled at him like that.

It had been an hour, and apart from one broken conical flask, there had been no major mishaps, and almost all of his students had finished their titrations. Except for her. She was on her fourth attempt now, the last student apart from her silently filing out of the classroom, and she was getting increasingly frustrated each time. He was trying to be subtle, to not make her feel pressured at all, but he couldn't help but watch as she turned the stopcock so slightly, letting a single drop fall into the flask, and he watched it turn colour perfectly… until the stopcock wasn't closed properly, another few drops sneaking through and pushing it past the end point colour.

“Fuck!” Every other attempt, it had been a quiet frustration, hidden under her breath, but this time she couldn't help it, cursing loudly and slamming her hand on the table. He could hear her heavy breaths even from across the room, her hand dragging through her hair in annoyance. She almost looked close to tears, just staring at the failed experiment. He muttered her name in concern, standing up ready to help her, but she just shook her head, grabbing the flask and heading to empty it.

“I’m so sorry for my outburst, Professor, my language was completely inappropriate…”

“No that’s not it at all, curse all you want…” He moved over to her desk as he spoke, but she was busying herself setting up again, not meeting his eyes. So he said her name again, firmly but kindly, garnering her attention without upsetting her. It worked, and she stopped moving for a moment, slightly out of breath in frustration. “Are you ok? You don’t seem yourself at all…” She was grinding her jaw as he spoke, trying to hold her emotions back, but a tear fell from her eye regardless, rolling down her cheek. She huffed loudly, wiping it away quickly and looking to the ceiling, trying to blink back the other tears that were threatening to spill.

“I’m fine.” She insisted, but her voice cracked as she did, another tear escaping as she muttered another curse under her breath. “Sorry, I’m just wasting your time today…”

“Never.” He said firmly, moving to her side of the desk. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what going on, I just can’t seem to…” another tear rolled down her cheek, his heart broke for her.

“Hey, take a second, just breathe, ok? Sit down, cry if you need to, just take a moment.” She nodded, sitting down on the lab stool with a snuffle. He sat down too, tucking his stool slightly closer to her and waiting until she was ready.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just overwhelmed. I didn’t sleep too well last night, so I’ve been exhausted all day. One of my professors gave me shit for being late even though the bus broke down on my way here, and that ruined my mood. Another lecture turned out to be some surprise test thing nobody had prepared for so that was horrible. And… well I’m just rambling now and I don’t know if I’ve told you this yet but I might as well at this point because I guess it’s something you should know as my advisor - I have general anxiety disorder and…” she paused, catching her breath and scoffing slightly as she continued speaking quickly, “well, and a whole host of other things I don’t have time to go into but I’ve spent most of the afternoon warding off panic attacks hence the…” She trailed off, holding up her hand which was shaking like a leaf. “So I can’t focus, I can’t control the equipment even though I’ve done at least 30 titrations in my academic career and I was honestly just looking forward to seeing… to doing something practical with my day but…” He didn’t think she’d even noticed the tears starting to fall, but he did immediately. He also noticed the way her voice was getting breathier, and the increasingly frantic look in her eyes. He was worried. She seemed worn out, way too thinly strung and now here she was, crying over an experiment he knew she could do in her sleep. She needed to take care of herself for a bit, to take it easy. But right now, maybe he could help.

His hand moved to her face, brushing the tears away before moving to her shoulder and squeezing.

“Hey, slow down. Look at me. Breathe.” He took a long deep breath, his eyes fixed firmly to hers as she copied, repeating the action a few times. He watched as she slowly seemed to calm, shoulders dropping and tears drying up. “That’s better.”

“I’m so sorry, this was only supposed to take like half an hour. I’ve derailed your whole afternoon, I just don’t know what’s come over me today.” He sighed. The way she felt she had to be sorry for being human made him feel so protective of her, so willing to hurt anyone who made her feel this way.

“You’re stressed, you didn’t sleep well and your anxiety is flaring up. None of that is something you have to apologise for. And you definitely don’t have to apologise for derailing my day - my evening consists of grading papers and getting an early night. Both of those things can wait even if this titration takes all night.” She laughed, wiping away the last of her tears with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” Her hand moved to rest atop his, which was still sitting on her arm, squeezing slightly. His breath caught briefly at the contact, and it took all the self control in his body to not lean into her touch, to kiss her then and there.

“Always…” he muttered, smiling softly, and after another beat, he slid his hand away, feeling cold at the lack of warmth from her. “Now,” he took a deep breath, grounding himself to reality. *Student, teacher, do the maths - not a good idea.* “Let’s finish this practical.”

**

His presence was so calming to you. After four failed attempts, you were already doing a lot better - hands steady, breaths even, a serenity you hadn't felt all day. He wasn’t even helping you; just being nearby was enough. He’d grabbed a few papers from his desk and was quietly grading while you worked, the occasional turn of paper and scratch of pen relaxing you. It was starting to get to the difficult part now, but your hands didn't fail you, adding the titrate drop by drop, swirling the flask until… it stayed pink. Just enough, a soft wash of magenta, and you couldn't help but grin.

“See…” he muttered, not once looking up from his papers, “I told you you could do it.” You smiled even wider, holding back every urge within you to hug him.

“Thank you.” You settled on the sentiment instead, jotting down the final measurements. “And…”

“I swear if you try to apologise again, I will kick you out of my class once and for all.” God he knew you so well. You chuckled lightly, biting your tongue to stop you from apologising for that as well.

“Never again, I promise.”

You had packed up, moving as quickly as possible to ensure you didn't waste any more of his time, but honestly, you wanted to be around him just a little longer. Today had taught you that maybe your ever-growing feelings might not be a problem, but a help. He was so calming to be around, so good at putting your doubt and anxiety at ease, and talking to him was easy, terrifyingly so. His company was soothing, and on bad days, at least you knew you had a place to go.

And now, you had to face the long bus to your off-campus apartment, followed by an evening alone with your thoughts.

You had sorted your things, putting on your coat and pulling up the hood, bracing yourself to head out in the dark and rainy evening.

“Thank you again for everything, Professor, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait…” he called out your name as you opened the door, and you paused, internally sighing in relief. “How are you getting home?”

“Just the bus from campus, its not far to the station from here…”

“I’ll take you, I’m leaving here anyway.”

“No, I couldn't ask you to do that, Sir…”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Where am I taking you?” You blushed at his comment, heart leaping at the authoritative tone, but telling him anyway. “That's only a few streets away from me, it’s not out of my way at all.”

“Only if you’re sure…”

“I wouldn't have offered otherwise.”

You had made it to the awning of the building, the last moment of peace before you were bombarded by the rain. He followed you out, sighing slightly.

“Do you smoke?” He asked, and the question surprised you slightly. He’d never struck you as the type, but now, as you turned around to see him standing with a cigarette dangling between his lips, you couldn't believe how natural it looked.

“Yeah…” You were relieved. You had been desperate for one all afternoon, but hadn't had a chance. You moved to open your handbag, unsure of where you'd left them, but he had already extended his pack out towards you. You smiled.

“Thank you…” He lit yours first, shielding it with his hands for you, and you couldn't help but notice how close he was to you. He lit his own, and you watched it awe at his beauty as the lighter illuminated his face. His first drag was long and desperate, the deep sigh he let out when he breathed echoing your own relief. You wondered if that's what he’d be like when you were on your knees for him quiet but needy, hand running through his hair and…

“What are your plans this weekend?” You blushed, not at the question but what it had distracted you from, taking a drag while you composed yourself.

“Not much, just studying, finishing a few papers, the usual.”

“No plans with friends? A boyfriend?” He asked almost shyly, then blushed profusely. “Or girlfriend, or partner… sorry I didn't mean to assume.” You laughed at his embarrassment.

“No, no plans. Friends are all out of town or doing the same as me, and no boyfriend to have plans with.” You weren't sure why you felt like you had to clarify that. It was an instinct more than anything, something in you felt like he should know. “What about you? Any plans?”

“Nope, no plans either. Friends are all married with children, so they don't have weekends anymore. And my brother is out of town with work, so that just about rules out everyone.” Your heart sung at the lack of a girlfriend or wife mentioned, but you somehow managed to control your face. “I got a new jigsaw I might try…” You couldn't help but laugh out loud at that, and he laughed with you. “Sorry, I know thats like the oldest old person thing I could've said…”

“No I just… I was thinking the same thing but didn't want to seem old.” His turn to laugh loudly, a sound that warmed you through.

“You don't have to worry about that…”

“Neither do you.” You had replied quickly, without thinking, and suddenly the air was charged. He was looking you in a way that was unreadable, almost curious but there was something else brewing just under the surface. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you found yourself unable to look away, not letting yourself to be the first to break contact. You weren't sure what it was about today - maybe just because of how shitty you’d felt the last few days, how kind and caring he had been, how many times you’d been in touching distance of him - but you wanted him to know you were an option. Even if it was a bad idea, if it could ruin both of you, if it could destroy everything you'd ever worked towards… you suddenly didn't care. You needed him to know you were here, arms open and waiting, if he ever wanted you.

The car ride was quiet, silence only broken by the occasional attempt at small talk. It was as though the look you had shared earlier had shattered your ability to speak to each other normally, a cloud hanging over the both of you, threatening to pour. Eventually, you pulled up outside your building, and your heart broke that it was over. You had to leave now, to be alone in your flat, to try and relax without thinking about him. His touch, his laugh, his smell.

“Thank you for the lift.” You managed to croak out after sitting silent for a moment, voice laced with disappointment you didn’t have the energy to hide.

“Anytime.” He muttered back, and your hand moved to the door, eyes glazing over at the sight of the raindrops hitting the car window. You weren’t sure why you didn’t just leave, open the door and run inside, out of the rain, out of the tension. Maybe it was the weather, pushing you to take comfort somewhere warm and welcoming. Or maybe it was the scent of sandalwood and cigarettes that clung to the leather surrounding you. Or maybe it was the way your arm was still tingling where he had touched you earlier, his hands warm and expansive and calming. It didn’t really matter though. Regardless of the reason, you still chose to open your damn mouth one more time.

“I don’t want to wait until Monday to see you again.” Your voice was barely a whisper, barely audible, but from the way he muttered your name warningly, he heard. You flushed furiously, feeling so fucking stupid. You’d ruined everything. He was your advisor, your professor, your whole support system felled in one swoop. God, you were an idiot. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’ll go.” You reached for the handle again, tears springing to the corners of your eyes.

“Wait.” His voice was… well, you weren’t sure. It sounded frustrated, sure, but also, there was a desperation in it. A need. He didn’t want you to leave either. “God, I’ve thought about how this might go so many times and never once landed on what I’d want to say.” There was a lump in your throat, and your hands fell back into your lap, turning to see the slightly pained expression on his face, almost pleading. His hair was messy, one hand raking through it as his eyes met yours. “There’s obviously… I mean it’s undeniable the way I… but I just…” He was so nervous, eyes scanning across your face frantically. “I’m your advisor. I’m your Professor. I’m in a position of authority here, its a power imbalance and I’m old enough to…” You had sat calmly listening to him ramble, so grateful that your feeling weren’t unrequited that you didn’t care what other excuses he would try to come up with.

“I don’t care.” He whispered your name again in warning, but softer, and you could see his resolve eroding with every second he was in your presence. “I mean it. You said it yourself, it’s undeniable. And now we’ve addressed it… what’s the harm in trying?” He still looked confused, pain wrought into his features as his eyes locked onto yours. And then, it was like you could see him accept that he couldn’t stop this now. That he didn’t want to. The fear gave way to longing, his hand cupping your jaw in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

“I need you to…” The nerves were still clear in his voice, but his hand was definite, thumb brushing your lips and you leant into the touch, body naturally caving towards his. “Please tell me your want this. I need to be sure.”

“I want this.” You were so firm in your response, so final, he had no choice but to believe you.

He leant in, cupping your face in his hand, touch so strong, so definite, that any residual doubt melted away as his lips touch yours. It was fleeting, unsure, but not a moment before he had pulled away, you pressed back into him. Your kiss was desperate and bruising, hard and needy and full of months of pent up desire. He returned so fervently you sighed into his mouth, relief and arousal washing over your body. His hand moved to grip your hair, keeping you close, and you cursed internally that you were still in the car, centre console blocking your body from his. You were desperate to touch more of him, to feel his skin under your fingers, to run your hands across the ridges of his chest and up his arms. His grip was still strong in your hair, but you broke for air, watching with a smile as his lips chased yours. His evident need spurred you on, hand moving to rest against his chest and grip the pressed fabric of his shirt as you shared the air in the space between you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He muttered half-heartedly, but his blown pupils and subtle smile told you differently.

“Do you want to come upstairs?”

The elevator ride was tense, hand gripped in his, half expecting him to run away, but as soon as your door was open, his lips smashed into yours once more. His hands explored your waist, pressing you to the now closed door, body touching yours slightly. His mouth was saying something different to his body language: lips hungry and needy, body cautious. You were more confident, hands falling to his back and pulling him as close as possible to you. He groaned in response, a low guttural sound that left you panting into his hot mouth. You wanted to gasp his name, but you realised you didn’t know it, embarrassment clouding your mind. You pushed it away immediately, hands snaking round his solid form to his tie, loosening it like a woman starved and throwing it to the side.

“Hey…” he muttered alongside a pant of your name, fingers tracing your face in a tender way, “are you sure you want this?”

“More than anything.” The answer fell from your lips without you even thinking about it. You needed him. He smiled against your lips, hands trailing from your waist to your hips, an invitation. You started to undo his shirt buttons, hands finally coming into contact with his warm skin, hips bucking towards his. A moment of insecurity washed over you. You were young, younger than him by a long way, and while it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but wonder if being with someone with so much less experience would bother him. He’d asked for your assurance twice now, and you had just assumed he wanted the same. Maybe he was just here so he didn’t lose his job…

“Is this what you want too?” You whispered, so shy and unsure you could feel the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“More than anything.” His fingers traced your lips, eyes meeting yours, and he must’ve sensed their slightly hesitant nature. “Since the minute you walked into my classroom, I’ve wanted this.” He smiled slightly sheepishly then, eyes flitting down to scan your form. “You were wearing cord flares and a white tee, leather jacket slung over your bag. You looked so confident, so excited to be in my class… you weren’t even looking at me yet, but I saw a glint in your eye that reminded me of myself in my youth. Everything about you intoxicated me from the moment I locked eyes with you. I want this.” The last statement was so final, so raw, you gave in fully. You smiled, looking deep into his eyes to see them unwavering.

“In that case..” you muttered, puling away from his just slightly, pulling your shirt over your head before unbuttoning your jeans, letting them fall to the floor. He stepped back while you were undressing, eyes darkening as they scanned your whole body with desire.

“Fuck…” he muttered the word quietly to himself, continuing to look you up and down in a way that made you blush profusely. He followed suit quickly, slowly undoing the rest of your shirt buttons with a slight smile. You couldn’t help but gaze half-lidded at his bare form, muscles rippling with every deep breath he took. “Where’s your room?”

Your bra and his trousers were long discarded, your bare form pressed to his as he laid above you, hand resting by your head, holding him up as he devoured your mouth. His kisses were getting lower, pressing against your neck and chest as you could do nothing but pant at his every touch.

“Sir, are you…” you didn’t even finish your question, words lost in your tongue as he bit down softly against the pillowy flesh of your breast, a groan escaping his lips against you at the name you had chosen in the heat of the moment.

“Shh..” the soft sound escaped his lips as he continued to move his lips lower until his fingers hooked your pantries, pulling them down slowly, savouring your squirming.

“What are you…” your words were lost yet again as his mouth enveloped your bare pussy, tongue pressing a firm stripe through your folds. You moaned loudly, the sensation enveloping you as you pressed your hips further towards his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction at the movements from you, hands gripping your hips tightly as your thighs surrounded his head. His tongue was expert, circling your clit with perfect precision and you bucked into him again with a whimper, desperate for some direct contact. He chuckled against you, smiling up between your thighs and you could’ve cum there from the sight of him.

“Relax…” he muttered, surly tone immediately forcing your muscles to loosen, pressing into the bed. His tongue flicked across your clit, and you squirmed, pants and whines filling the room as he continued his assault on your sensitive nerves. “Good girl…” his voice rumbled against your cunt, almost pushing you to the edge there and then.

“Please…” was all you could force out, words jumbling in your mind as the pleasure started to take over. One hand released from your hips, and you barely registered as two fingers pushed inside you, thick and deep. You groaned, an animalistic noise drawn from the back of your throat as he hit the spot inside you that made you sing. Every inch of your body was on fire with need as his fingers filled you, tongue continuing its relentless attack on your clit. You were all but an incoherent mess of moans and pants as he kept going, pleasure building and building close to the point of being too much, nerves burning with desire as he feasted on you like a man starved. It didn’t take long for your orgasm to arrive, fast and brutal, blinding you as your thighs squeezed around him, sobs and whines falling from your lips as you rode out the waves on his tongue.

By the time you had caught your breath, his face was an inch from yours, pressing sloppy kisses your jaw and neck. You whimpered softly, feeling the slick he had left between your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his, blinking up at him stupidly.

“I want you…” his lips cut you off, deep and passionate as your words were swallowed by hood’s mouth. He tasted like you.

“You have me. Body and soul.” Your heart leapt at the sentiment, hand brushing through his hair with affection.

“Then fuck me.”

He was pressed against your back, and was impossibly deep inside you, hitting that spot that made your back arch. His hand was tangled in your hair again, lips to your neck as he somehow pressed deeper, and your hand found his thigh, holding him there.

“You feel so good.” You whispered, fucked out and satisfied, already multiple organs in from his perfect cock.

“I’m close baby,” he muttered against your ear, grinding against your ass as you whined for him so beautifully. He fit so perfectly inside you it felt handcrafted, and he groaned softly as he pulled out quickly, slamming back inside as his hips started to stutter. “So pretty, so perfect for me…” his hand reached around to your used clit, pressing gentle circles as you cried out. You would do anything for him, but you were exhausted and overstimulated, a few tears brimming in your eyes at the bliss and pain it provided.

“Please..” you whispered for the uncountable time that night, hips backing into his as he groaned, deep and animalistic. Your orgasm washed over you as he finally came, moaning against your neck as his teeth clamped down carefully.

“So fucking perfect…”

You felt so effortlessly relaxed beside him, sleep encroaching quicker than it ever had. You were exhausted and spent, but happy. Everything you’d wanted for months but refused to admit to yourself had come true, and tomorrow, you’d have to face the reality of it all. But for now, you were at peace, head rested against his chest and feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. Your slumber had started to take you, eyes fluttering closed, when you heard his voice speak softly, as though trying not to disturb you.

“I hope this moment last forever.” You thought confirming his sentiment would somehow diminish him, or scare him off, pretending your sleep had pulled you under, but your heart swelled in agreement. You never wanted to leave this place.

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon

How the Crew Takes Care of You on Your Period

Captain Curly

Knows your cycle so well that he starts prepping his monthly Captain Curly Period Kit a week before it starts

The kit includes all hygiene products that you need including painkillers, five of your favorite chocolate bars and the best part: candid photos he had secretly taken of you, each with a note underneath

The notes ranged from awful period puns to sweet compliments. This man knows how to keep you happy, physically and emotionally

Whispers comforting words as you sob over a character’s death during movie night

Though once, it was about a cockroach getting pancaked on screen

"Babe, that roach? It’s in a better place now—cockroach heaven. Endless trash buffets, living its best afterlife”

Spoiler: it worked

Checks in on you throughout the day, either with a sweet “How’s my baby feeling?” text or by dropping into the room for a quick chat, always making sure you feel loved and cared for

He understands how hormones can mess up with your mood and always reassures you that he isn't going anywhere

Co-pilot Jimmy

The man has somehow mastered the art of finding all the right spots to massage when you're doubled over with cramps or just feeling downright miserable

What you don’t know is that he once secretly googled “how to massage girlfriend in pain” (in incognito mode cause his ego won't just let him ask outright)

Big mistake. Huge. He was immediately bombarded with nsfw content, all roleplay, mostly rough

Let’s just say it took half a day, several deep breaths, and a burning face before he stumbled onto an actual helpful website

Ever since then, he’s been sneaking off to “practice.” But it got a little weird one day

Every time you passed by, he’d be glued to his phone, staring at it with this weirdly intense look, and his free hand squeezing the air at different angles

“Uh… babe? Are you… hallucinating? Maybe some floating breast action?”

“Huh? Wha—no! Unless you’re jealous of the air now, darling. Should I be worried?”

It all paid off when you let out those godly noises he loved, his hands were massaging with just the right pressure and on the right places

To top it off, he even got an essential oil in your favorite scent

Not without drama, though—apparently, walking into Bath & Body Works fully hooded and masked with shades doesn't scream 'thoughtful boyfriend'. It screams robber

Mechanic Swansea

The man and his craftsman hands will do anything to make you comfortable

Need a hot compress? Heats up grains, puts it in a sackcloth bag and places it in your lower belly

On days when you feel ugly looking in the mirror? Secretly blurs them slightly with shampoo or soap

Cold hands? Wraps yours in his larger ones

The kids being too loud while you're in a damp mood? He'd play tea parties with them (he was crowned the princess of all dragons)

Before sleeping, he always lay the towel down at your side of the bed whenever you're at the bathroom

Even built you a custom wooden cabinet that dispenses pads and tampons efficiently. Always stocked because he secretly checks it regularly

You have to force him to sit or lay down with you when he would be silently stressing out on what more to do

"Swansea, love, you're all I need right now, just stay here with me"

Nurse Anya

The nurse uses her medical and psychological expertise like a pro, making your period feel a lot less miserable

Meds are always your bestfriend whenever your killer cramps hit and she made sure to always carry all kinds of painkillers and have every dosage for each pain scale you're in

Wincing and doubling down? she's quick to ask

"Scale of 1 to 10?"

Even when she’s busy, she finds little ways to remind you you’re not alone like leaving sticky notes with doodles of you or your favorite characters in places where you’ll find them

After noticing how you loved wrapping your feet in blankets, she got you matching fuzzy socks that you now have to wear whenever she’s around (because she’s wearing hers too)

Lovingly strokes your back and hair while you scream at reality show contestants for choosing the dumbest of choices

Very much amused and nods along every time you asked her if you're both witnessing the same stupidity

Intern Daisuke

The boy is sometimes dense but when it comes to you, he sure isn't incompetent

One day, when the bed was way too soft to escape from, you did the only logical thing: text him

"Hey Dai, can you buy me some tampons? forgot to buy some yesterday"

"Be there in 5 babe! (⁠づ⁠￣⁠ ⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠づ"

And he meant it

He gave the pharmacist a heart attack by storming in and loudly asking for a box of tampons

Proceeded to grill them on what brands were most likely to leak so he'd avoid them (no shame whatsoever)

Never arrived empty-handed. Along with the tampons, he’ll pick up a plushie, a cute keychain, a little hair accessory or literally anything he knows that will let him see your pretty smile

He’ll wrap you both up in comforters, flashdrive loaded with all your comfort movies, from romcoms to horror

The mission? Movie marathon until you're both knocked out

Despite shrieking at every jumpscare, he still kisses your forehead between scenes, like you’re the one who needs reassurance (Spoiler: he needed those forehead kisses more)

a/n: thanks so much for reading! headcanon requests are very much appreciated ʕ•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ

[chibinur]

Drew the pookies ! I'm beginning to feel more confident with each doodle !! Hopefully it stays like this for a while because I need to be productive for merchs and a dtiys I'm organizing on Insta ;v; (help)

The doodles I've been drawing lately are just me taking a break from drawing merchs. I think the reasonable thing to do is to take it easy and take a proper break but... ;v;

[solvisun]

121924. ❀ ₊˚⊹ HERSHEY’S KISSES

haikyuu 𝜗𝜚 tsukishima kei x fem!reader

you’ve had your fair share of experiences when it comes to relationships. yet for some reason, the one you have now, with a certain blonde who gives you love that’s tangible enough to feel its warmth flowing your skin— makes all your hair from your nape rise in an indescribable feeling. it’s a mix of apprehension, excitement, and an overwhelming desire to do something you have never done before.

or: 4 times you felt the urge to kiss him, and 1 time he acted upon it.

❀ MASTERLIST. PREV. II. KEEP IT COOL. NEXT

content 𝜗𝜚 rain + (un)expected cuddles and borrowed sweaters. failed study sesh. tsukishima's teasing yet tender presence makes it impossible to stay annoyed—or concentrated. reader drinks black coffee LOOK AWAY i am inserting myself. this turned softer than i expected.

this is why you hate joint study sessions.

all of them—except your boyfriend—are sprawled out on the floor, trying to fuse themselves into the floor mat like they’ve decided to hibernate there.

hinata and kageyama are the most tragic victims of this self-imposed slumber, faces vandalized with doodles of squiggly eyebrows and mustashes courtesy of tsukishima, who’s trying to hide the marker somewhere in your bag. his smirk is borderline smug as you catch him in the act. yamaguchi seemed to be a few blinks away before joining the passed out duo in merging with the ground.

yachi helps you drape them with extra blankets. your face twisted in a deadpan look, not surprising that things turn out the way it is.

your initial assumption of the weather being cloudy and perfect was proven wrong when you glance again towards your windows, a gray, grumbling sky looming overhead. threatens the rain that refuses to fall.

you refuse to accept any of it. like the sky, you refuse to fall apart like this.

“yachi please you can’t leave me with those two-” it’s the third time you’ve pleaded with her, pulling the biggest pout you can muster, but as it is, she remains resolute. shaking her head vigorously.

“but you have your boyfriend to help-”

“he’s not going to help and you know that-”

“he will if you ask nicely”

“i don’t want to-”

“why not?”

“because-!”

you hate joint study sessions. but you especially hate it because tsukishima kei is a deadly distraction to your poor heart.

she held both of your hand, calls you by your name. her smile’s so apologetic it leaves a bad taste on your tongue.

she doesn’t have an umbrella, and her house is the farthest from everyone else. she has to go home early.

you think that all your energy slipped along with your friend as the door clicks shut behind her.

yeah, this is punishment. probably for all your procrastination lately.

you glance back at the group, the sleeping chaos of hinata and kageyama reminds you that none of you have been particularly productive today. you didn’t even manage to study anything meaningful yourself, and it’s a pain in the ass, especially now with the gloomy weather that’s forcing lethargy to creep into your bones. it just feels impossible to start now.

yamaguchi supresses a yawn, mutters something unintelligible before folding his arms across the low coffee table as he rests his head against them. outside, the sky mirrors your internal cry, grumbling louder than the last.

and now it’s just you. you and him.

great. fantastic. wonderful.

“i’m gonna have to pull an all nighter later,” you tell yourself as you drag your feet towards the kitchen. sluggish. you opt for some coffee over your typical energy drink, and you do this with a purpose of avoiding your boyfriend, like the mere presence of coffee repels him from you. you nearly laugh at the thought of it, treating caffeine as your personal tsukki repellent.

“what’s taking you so long?”

fuck. it’s not taking effect today for some reason.

you pause mid-stir, and you hadn’t realized you’ve been stirring too fast that you almost spilled yourself. his unhurried footsteps should sound soothing but it does the actual opposite. he steps in your space, blonde poking on your peripherals. his eyes flicker to your coffee, and you immediately catch the grimace pulling at his lips.

he’s never understood why you drink it, even if rarely. and hell, with almost little to no quantity of sugar? he always says it’s proof you’re lost in the head.

maybe he’s right. you want to throw the coffee at his face for it.

you find that fiddling with the spoon can be your favourite past-time now. your half-formed thoughts swirling together in the coffee.

this isn’t going anywhere. you need his help. maybe just a few back-and-forth questions on history? or you could let him shuffle your flashcards. something—anything—to kickstart your focus.

ugh. you can’t even look at him in the eye.

“seriously,” his voice cuts through the mess you’ve dug yourself into. “are you going to stand there all day?” and when you finally glance up, you think—oh.

you’re done for.

he tilts his head to the side, glasses slowly inching down from the bridge of his nose, his brows arch in a sharp but patient question. the way he leans in with relaxed shoulders and a placid look feels a bit unfair when you’re here trying not to shove him off in embarrassment.

you suck a breath, with it, the scent of coffee diffuses within your lungs, but you also catch a whiff of floral hints from a particular cologne you only bought for a particular someone.

(oh, he still wears it?)

you hold your mug firmly, not minding the heat burning against your palms. you say, quietly, “i uh, need help,”

“with what?”

“studying.” you fire weakly, now staring back at your mug, your reflection distorted by the ripples.

you expect his infuriating teasings, a bark of a laugh, or the slow drag of a hum as he pretends to think about it but ultimately pop a nope just to rile you up. you expect to roll your eyes and dismiss him afterwards. you expect him to be a little shit about it.

but instead, he chuckles—this might kill you one day for sure, and you’d prefer anything else other than that echoing the shell of your ear. it’s bound to haunt you later if the universe decides to torment you further.

it’s the most affectionate, yet smug sound you’ve ever heard. but it’s rare, as you take in the crinkle of his eyes and the lift of his cheekbones, you don’t want to believe the pink adorning his features is because he’s blushing. no, he’s enjoying himself too much.

“wow. you really must be desperate if you’re asking me for help. have you been possessed?”

(you wonder about that too.)

“please,” you groan, shooting him a half-hearted glare.

“with a please? this is music to my ears.”

“you know what? nevermind.”

“aw, you can’t just do that and-”

“actually i can-”

“now if you say please one more time i’ll consider it.”

“i’d rather die.”

you give him a nasty side eye as he bursts into a fit of quiet laughter. scoffing as you take a sip of your drink and halt once you did. oops, it’s a little strong than you anticipated. you might need to eat something sweet to balance it out. you set your mug down and rummage through your fridge, laughter dwindling into suppressed chuckles and a sigh of satisfaction.

when you found none. you think your mood couldn’t get any sour. he sees your frown somehow, as he calls out to you. and you can’t miss the way his smirk blurs into a line of a genuine smile. affectionate, almost loving.

“relax,” he says after a while, “what do you need help with?”

you notice there’s something that’s growing warm over the softness of everything. it’s definitely not your coffee. or the incoming rain outside. two of which that are unable to touch or be touched by love.

…it’s definitely not your face, not your ears, and not your half glossed eyes, that feel warm.

“history. just…ask me questions, or something.”

“okay.” he pushes himself off the counter to follow you back on the table. the others still asleep, as tsukishima sits beside you, his knee rests atop of yours.

it’s annoyingly comforting. the bitterness of the coffee, the sound of the rain finally pattering faintly against your roof, muffled and meek. his fresh and floral cologne wafting your nose, his hushed voice as he asks you small and basic questions.

soon enough, history shifts into biology, and you’re not sure when he stopped from playing with your flashcards to his hands preoccupied combing your hair. right as you try to simplify and explain several metabolic processes, head on his lap.

this is another reason why you hate joint study sessions. it's simply a cuddle session in a thinly veiled disguise.

“i know how calvin cycle works, generally, but..”

“i have notes.” he speaks even more softly than before, which you thought wasn’t possible. quit it, you want to reply. you’re already lying down on one of the most comfortable cushion you’ve ever set unto and it’s making you yawn unceremoniously. you’re right. tsukishima’s the best and worst distraction of all time.

“can you—” another yawn surfaces, “just explain it to me?”

“and see you sleep soundly like i’m telling a bedtime story?”

“promise i won’t honk shoo mimimi on you.”

he’s pretty when he grins like this.

“..say please?”

you’re already lost in the head as you comply, “please.”

a breathless chuckle escapes him, “i think you might need your beauty rest now.”

you’ve read an excerpt one time, source unknown. scent shelters memory best. you don’t recall when or where you saw it, but it holds the weight of truth. especially now.

so when he guides you to your sofa, says he’ll get you a blanket real quick. you don’t let him as you tug on his sweater, asking,

“can i wear them instead?”

tsukishima raises an eyebrow, staring at you with mock incredulity. “this? you’re serious?”

you nod, still clutching the edge of his sweater, your fingers brushing against the worn fabric. “it’s cold.”

“right.” he snorts but relents, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. the static ruffles his hair, making a few strands stick up awkwardly. you suppress a laugh as he tosses the sweater toward you.

“happy now?” he mutters, shaking his head lightly to fix his hair.

sliding into the oversized sweater, the warmth envelopes you instantly. it smells faintly of detergent, fresh linen, and that familiar floral cologne. you pause, tugging the collar closer to your nose, the scent grounding you in a strange, comforting way.

“you’re still wearing it,” you say after a short pause.

“what?”

“the cologne.”

he shrugs.

“why wouldn’t i?”

you huff. “i just didn’t think you liked it that much. when i gave it to you, i thought you’d hate it—too floral, too... not you.”

he looks away, “it’s fine. i liked it enough to keep using it.”

what you don’t say is how the memory of that first time still lingers in your mind. how you’d seen it nearly empty within a month, thinking he’d tossed it, only to learn he’d worn it so often it hadn’t lasted. how he’d started buying it himself after that and, without a word, began reserving it for his favorite clothes—the ones he wore on days he liked best. like this sweater.

you realize then that it’s not just the sweater or the cologne you find yourself drawn to—it’s everything wrapped up in him. the way his mouth moves, the subtle quirk of it when he’s amused, the way it softens when he isn’t teasing you.

you don’t respond, you let your thoughts blur into the comfort of his warmth, the patter of rain, and the scent that shelters this memory best.

and before you’re swept into slumber, you wonder if he could taste the bitterness on your lips if you had the guts to kiss him right now. maybe he’d hate you for it. maybe you'd freaked yourself out the first time the urge sprung up so suddenly. maybe you couldn't do it after all.

…does he even want to kiss you? the same way you desire to?

(you’ll seek the truth for another time.)

taglist (open!) — @stellar-haikyuu @kokokoula @luvether @yoru-exe @reirain @hwanghyunjinismybae @astolary @albakugo @zarisluvr @kazucee @23soong @anqelkoz @starstrikeer @liliesofdawnnn

just wanted to overshare: idk how anyone goes about relationships, but this is based off of my own experience haha. this chp was supposed to be posted last night but i hated how the tone of the story shifted drastically, so i rewrote it until i was satisfied hhauhasuhs

© SOLVIA 2024. HERSHEY’S KISSES. do not alter/repost !

[sirfrogsworth]

I haven't posted in a while.

Well, a while for me.

I've been stuck in a physical slump for about 7-ish weeks and it is starting to get to me. It's like my body is stuck in low power mode and I just don't have much productive energy. I've been trying to work on restoring photos but my willpower has been very inconsistent.

These slumps have happened before. They will happen again. And I always emerge from them eventually. But when they are this long I get very depressed and convince myself I am stuck like this forever. And that I will never be able to accomplish anything again.

But the other complication is the holidays. I mentioned on my Facebook page that my parents always made the holidays special. They went all out and did big decorations and cooked fancy dinners and we had these plates that we only used twice a year and silverware that stayed hidden in a drawer until Christmas Eve. We'd drive around and look at lights and we'd always have presents under the tree even when my parents probably couldn't afford presents.

And my mom would wrap our presents in plain brown postal paper with green yarn and it was just so much more tasteful than the shiny, garish wrapping paper you get at the store.

I just always loved how classy that was. I loved how she took the time to put a little hand-drawn doodle on each gift. She took something simple and inexpensive and made it so much more personal and memorable than the more expensive thing.

And all of that is gone now.

And I don't have a new family to build new traditions with.

And I never will because I'm disabled and that isn't really an option.

And I can't even be a cool uncle because my brother's wife decided she hated me and my parents for no reason we could ever decipher. So I will never meet my niece.

And all of that just kind of converges in my brain during the holidays and it is very hard. And it is doubly hard because I can't get out of bed. And I can't concentrate.

So I am just bored and sad and frustrated.

Umm... Happy Thanksgiving?

[for-your-modesty-dude]

Sacred Tradition

A/N: Hi again! This was a quick idea that was bouncing around my head for the past two days. This is a little shorter than my last, and I honestly didn't even read through it once I finished typing it out, so... try not to judge me too hard for silly errors. - Hy

Just a special shoutout to @bl0ssomanddie whose compliment made me cheese so hard that I couldn't help but continue trying this whole "posting my writing" thing out.

Warnings: ramblings, momentary angst, fluffy ending

Word Count: 2.8k

Per tradition, Thursday nights were movie nights at Eddie’s little apartment. 

Since the whole Vecna thing had gone down, he and Wayne had gotten a good settlement from the government to keep their mouths shut about what they knew, and then another for the accusations and resulting manhunt that had caused Eddie mental anguish and physical harm. As soon as he’d graduated high school, he’d gotten himself a little apartment on the nicer side of town, moving out of the house he and Wayne had been moved into once the trailer park was deemed unlivable. As soon as the town was cleared for entry, you’d taken a flight from your college town on the east coast to head back to your hometown, where your friends were. (Not that it looked the same, since the government had to jump through hoops to fix up what Vecna had left behind. Or officially, the “earthquake.”) The only reason you knew anything about Vecna was because Eddie had written almost a journal’s worth of letters to you, with polaroid photograph evidence, and testimonials from his friends before he’d been sworn to secrecy. So naturally, when you’d come home, you’d been panicked to see him and hear about the story in person. You had just entered your junior year of college, but after the chaos of Hawkins splitting open, you couldn’t bear to be away anymore. You decided you were staying in town, and you’d finish your degree at your local college, while you worked locally. Fridays were the only weekdays you didn’t have class, and thus had started your movie night tradition. 

By the time you’d gotten your degree and gotten your own little apartment in town, you’d both felt it was inappropriate to change sacred movie night tradition. Eddie didn’t work at the shop on Fridays, and you didn’t work the opening shift at the store, so Thursdays continued to work. Sometimes, however, Eddie liked to break tradition and hold movie night at your place instead. 

That particular Thursday, Eddie’s oven unit had been acting up, so he’d called you to request the change in venue, and you didn’t mind it one bit. A functioning oven was a must, otherwise you couldn’t cook your instant stovetop popcorn, and neither of you would dare do movie night without your popcorn. He arrived early, as you were getting home from work, so you left him to his own devices while you went to shower and get into your comfiest sweats. 

Typically, with Eddie’s endless supply of energy, he usually found something productive to do with it. However, he was typically in his own apartment, which meant he could pick up one of his current reads when he was bored and read until you gave him attention again. At your place, however, it was a little harder to find a way to tamp down his energy. He chose to just read anything and everything with text that was on your coffee table. This included a mailer ad you’d received for a car, an electrical bill that was annoyingly lower than his own, and a fashion catalog. The problem was that none of these things were near interesting enough, so when he saw an open journal tucked in the bottom shelf of the coffee table, he had to grab it. 

He started flipping through pages of random notes you’d made: movies you wanted to watch, a word you wanted to look up in a dictionary, a D&D campaign idea for Eddie, and then a bunch of blank pages. As he was about to give up on that, he flipped to a later page on accident, and saw you’d doodled a bunch of hearts, and in the middle was your name… with his last name tacked on. It stopped him in his tracks, and he just stared down at the page awhile, trying to process if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. After he gathered his bearings again, he flipped through more pages, and found his name doodled all over the edges of the pages, and hearts. He also found plenty more instances of your name with his Munson surname. Feeling that he’d definitely seen something he wasn’t supposed to, he closed the journal and put it on the coffee table, halfway covering it with a TV guide that was on the side table beside him, and sitting back on the couch, tense. 

When you were done with your shower and fully dressed, you came out, scrunching your hair dry with your towel. You smiled when you entered the living room, “ready for some Gremlins?” He gave you a strange smile and a stiff nod, but you didn’t read too much into it, knowing Eddie had a tendency of being weird at times. Instead, you went to grab the movie from the shelf, tossing the box to him before going to prepare the popcorn. He was quiet while you did so, but again, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. When everything was ready, you headed to the couch with the bowl of popcorn in arm. 

You were about to take your usual seat curled up with him when you spotted your journal on the coffee table, underneath a TV guide. Only you hadn’t left the journal there earlier that morning. When you realized what must have happened, your stomach sank to your toes, and you sat a respectable distance from him as the movie previews began. You put the popcorn bowl in the space between you, and tried to calm your now racing heart as the movie began. Usually, movie nights together were full of laughter and silly comments, especially when watching movies you’d already seen a million times. This time was not like those times. Unfortunately, he was too shocked at this new information to be normal, and you were too petrified that he knew how you felt to act cool. It meant that the whole movie night was weird and tense, and when it was time for him to go, you tried to act as normal as possible, waving before closing the door and locking it behind him, and then collapsing on the ground to stare at the hardwood and contemplate just about every life decision you’d ever made. 

You shouldn’t have left your journal in your living room. It was such a stupid mistake. One you never made. But you hadn’t expected Eddie to change plans and decide to go to your place instead of his own, so it hadn’t even crossed your mind until you’d seen it there. You couldn’t be upset with him, he knew he was welcome to look through whatever you left in your living room. He knew not to snoop in your bedroom, but living room was fair game. He had seen your deepest, darkest secret. You had been so good about hiding your crush on Eddie. You’d never once let on, at least not in your eyes, and he certainly never seemed to notice. You thought you were in the clear. But the way he’d tensed around you today? That was all the information you needed. Not only did he not know prior to now, but he was uncomfortable around you now that he did know. Needless to say, you would not be speaking with Eddie anytime soon. 

Eddie stood outside your door for a few minutes after you’d closed it, and he’d heard the lock turn. He stared at the parking lot a few yards away, just trying to process what he’d just experienced. If he’d understood correctly, his best friend was writing her name with his last name in her journal, surrounded by hearts… meaning she liked him. More importantly, she returned his feelings. He’d been in love with her for so long, but had never had the nerve to take things to the next level, for fear she’d reject him. Now, there was no more fear of that. 

But he’d done something much, much worse, instead. He’d made it seem like he wasn’t interested. It was an accident! He had seen that information, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around what he’d read! So he’d let things get tense and awkward, and then he couldn’t very well do anything about it, because he had the distinct feeling she’d seen what he’d been doing. He’d succeeded at making her uncomfortable, and that was about it. He looked back at the door after his entire thought process had concluded, and noticed your living room lights were out, so you’d definitely retreated to your bedroom. He wouldn’t knock again, so instead he hurried to his car and raced home, before calling you and nearly chewing his nails off as he waited for you to pick up. When you didn’t, he called again. And again. On the fourth time, he got a busy signal instead of just no response. He went to bed with a heavy heart that night, afraid you hated him now. 

You’d heard the phone ring the first time, and you just knew it had to be Eddie. Surely, he wanted to smooth things over and let you down easy, but you really didn’t want to hear the pity in his voice. So you’d covered your ears with your pillow, and hoped the phone would stop ringing. Instead, he called again, and again. So after the third time, you just took the phone off the hook and hoped he’d get the hint. You waited an agonizing twenty minutes before putting it back in its place and then finally letting yourself get to sleep, knowing you’d have nightmares that night. The next morning, you took yourself to your favorite coffee shop as a treat, figuring you could at least do something nice for yourself considering your relationship with your best friend was imploding entirely. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had gone to your apartment early to try and find you before work, only to find your car missing from the parking lot. He then tried the store you worked at, and didn’t see your car there, either. He waited a bit, in front of the store, before deciding to just go home and give you some space. On his way to his apartment, he found himself instead turning onto Wayne’s street, to try and get some advice. Wayne wasn’t home either, so he collapsed onto the old man’s couch and ended up falling asleep there. He’d get his uncle’s advice when he got home, surely. 

You had no idea the trouble eddie had gone to to find you, so you went about your workday as normally as you could. Thankfully, your boss suggested closing early that night, and you grabbed takeout and headed straight home, refusing to speak to anyone. You found yourself watching one of your favorite romantic films, working yourself up about the whole situation despite not actually having spoken to Eddie about it all. You just didn’t want to see the pity on his face when he let you down easy. You’d much rather he just pretended nothing ever happened. 

The next day, the only reason you’d had peace was because Eddie worked Saturdays at the shop. It was his longest shift. He got paid extra for it, since no one else wanted to work Saturdays. That meant that by the time he got home that night, he was too tired to pester you, and fell asleep quickly. But the next day, he was determined to follow Wayne’s advice. He woke up extra early, picking up your favorite drink and pastry from your favorite coffee shop, and headed to your apartment. He knew that knocking wouldn’t be helpful, so he had gotten there just in time to wait outside your car until you left for work. 

When you opened your front door and saw the familiar mop of curls by your car, your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. You took steadying breaths, and tried to remain calm. Once your door was locked, you walked towards your car with your eyes on the sidewalk, then the asphalt. You unlocked your car door and he appeared at your side to hand you the drink and pastry. You looked up at him silently, before taking the treats with a soft thanks, putting the cup in its cupholder and the pastry on your passenger seat. He grabbed your arm, however, to keep you from getting in the car yourself. “Please,” he said simply. 

You stared at the hand on your arm and closed your eyes a moment, before letting out a breath and responding, “I really don’t want to talk right now, I’m going to be late for work.” But that excuse didn’t work with him, because he knew what time you had to be at work to open the store. 

“We need to talk, please. You haven’t talked to me in two full days. Thursday night, you avoided my calls. I’m not leaving until you talk to me, and I’m not letting you leave either,” he used his position to switch you, and close your car door - leaning on it for good measure. You took a breath and stared at him, expression unreadable, before shaking your head. 

“No, I don’t really have anything to say, and I don’t need you to say anything either. Everything is fine and normal and great and I’ll talk to you later,” you tried to avoid the situation entirely, but your attempt proved fruitless. 

“Nope,” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me, sweetheart. That’s not how we work, and you know it.”

“You shouldn’t have snooped,” you said simply, “you shouldn’t have gone through my journal.”

He blinked, surprised that you’d bring it up first. “Well- yeah, that’s probably true. And I’m sorry about that, really, I am. But I’m not mad I saw what I saw, you know?”

This time it was your turn to look surprised, your eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. “What do you mean? You sat there, stiff as a board, all night. If my feelings make you that uncomfortable, I don’t know what you possibly want to talk to me about. I got it, you’re not interested, okay? I don’t need you to-”

Eddie laughed and covered your mouth gently with his hand, effectively shutting you up, but shocking you as you stared up at him with wide eyes at the audacity. “Can you let me finish? I wasn’t uncomfortable about your feelings, okay? I was sitting there for an hour and a half, trying to figure out if the girl I’ve been totally pining over for ages actually doodled her name with mine, or if I was entirely insane. And then you got stiff as a board, and I thought for sure I’d messed everything up. Do you know how long I stood outside your door after you locked up? Probably like, fifteen to twenty minutes. Standing there. And then when I ran home to call you, you didn’t pick up. Those are mixed signals if I’ve ever seen ‘em,” he pointed out, slowly retracting his hand from your mouth. 

“First of all,” you pointed your finger in his face in a familiar sassy attitude that made him feel a little more comfortable than your previous silence. “Don’t you ever shut me up like that again, I’ll kill you. Second of all, I- what?” You finally deflated, puzzled at his admission and not fully grasping it. “I don’t understand, so… you weren’t uncomfortable with my feelings? You were uncomfortable with… the not knowing? And I don’t understand, why did you stand at my door-” Eddie laughed warmly at your rambling, cheeks pink, and that time shut you up an entirely different way - by grabbing your face in his hands and leaning down to kiss you.

You felt like your heart might explode, and the butterflies in your stomach erupted like nothing you’d ever felt before. It took a moment before you finally closed your eyes and let yourself melt into it, before pushing him away from you with a pouty angry look, making his own eyes go wide this time. “I told you not to shut me up, Edward,” you huffed, though your flushed cheeks said you weren’t really angry with him. He hummed and brought his hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he leaned down to kiss your cheek this time. 

“Oops. You should get to work, you’re really gonna be late…” he teased, and you smacked his arm. 

“You’re driving me to work today. And you’re driving me home. And buying me pizza,” you told him simply. 

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I think I can handle that.”

[hrrtshape]

PLEASE talk about your gossip girl dr you mentioned and young coryooo🥺🥺🥺🥺

things that my boyfriend does in my better cr that....truly warms my heart ( aka emma yaps about coryo )

finished writing this up in maths class, and i just know my teacher thinks i’ve lost the plot….... why are you side-eyeing me? let me giggle in peace.

he carries (one of) my lip glosses in his pocket and acts like it’s the biggest inconvenience but pulls it out instantly when i ask.

sharing airpods in class like it’s a lifeline but he always gives me the one that’s fully charged while he suffers with the dying one.

taking pictures of me when i’m not looking and making them his lock screen. which. ugh. cutie.

he lets me draw on his arm with a pen during class and then complains when it doesn’t wash off before dinner with his parents.

matching hoodies but we pretend it’s not on purpose.

dumb little inside jokes that make absolutely no sense to anyone else. he texts me "frog incident" in the middle of a test and i have to physically leave the room because i’m laughing too hard.

he always ties my shoelaces for me if they come undone, even if it means getting on one knee in the middle of the hallway like a loser.

doodling on my notes in class and writing things like property of coriolanus snow just to get a reaction out of me. weirdo......cringe lowkey. no i love him.

him randomly biting my shoulder when he’s bored.

me (!!) biting his bicep when i'm bored.

he always waits for me outside my last class leaning against the wall like he’s in a music video.

wearing my scrunchie on his wrist because i “left it in his car” (he did NOT have to keep it on).

fell asleep on each other during long drive and woke up to find he’s holding my hand in his sleep.

we made dubai chocolate, and thank god i know my baking cause he curdled the only chocolate we had.

taking me to the gym (ew), but not for like any malicious reason, actually i was the one who suggested it because this man *exercises*!!!!! like ok miss productive at a gym at five am.

matching the maison margiela tabi shoes, it's such a small detail, but i absolutely adore it. he'd be wearing lace-ups and i'd be wearing ballet flats.

driving me to school every morning.

i just have to mention this one part cause it’s so GRAH but i was walking out of my apartment complex and he was leaning against one of the pillars smoking and i came outside and he like wrapped his arm around my shoulder and continued smoking with his free hand. like okay..........

picking me up from the airport at 1am a few days before new years because i got out of the holiday family meetups just a bit earlier to see him.

when i got drunk on soju during the lighting of the tree at rockefeller centre and he was trying to heat me up.

he pinches my cheek. and that’s so evil. like. what the fawk. cherubicusm is NOT A FUNNY THING.

if he’s tired or annoyed or just being an absolute menace, he hooks a finger through my belt loop and just tugs me where he wants me. like i’m a thing to be dragged around. (and maybe i like it a bit....)

late-night drive-thru runs where he insists on ordering for me even though i could do it myself, just so he can say “and a chocolate milkshake for my girl” like we’re in a 1950s movie.

he keeps a lipstick-stained napkin from a dinner date in his wallet and pretends it’s just in there by accident, but he refuses to throw it away.

when i do my makeup in his room, he sits on his bed and watches.

he always puts my hair behind my ear when it falls in my face. not even thinking about it. just automatic.

when i fell asleep on his shoulder during a flight, he stayed awake the whole time just so my head wouldn’t move.

he let me paint his nails, but only clear polish, and only if i promised not to tell anyone.

he never lets me carry my own suitcase. ever. even when i argue.

when we go to stupid parties, he always keeps an arm around my shoulder when we’re moving through crowds, just so we don’t get separated.

he untangles my necklace chain when it gets knotted. just takes it from my hands and fixes it like it’s nothing.

i didn't respond to his texts once and he sent me a picture of my own house like “i know you’re in there.”

this is the mooooost miniscule but ungodly detail that made me want to marry him, but, having soy milk in his fridge. mind you, he lives with his family (he's 18 and we're still in school) and i visit 7 times max per week (every day....). and. wow. ugh.

every time he borrows a pen, he returns it with the cap bitten.

when i was complaining about my hands being cold, he took them in his and blew warm air on them.

when i’m walking ahead of him, he loops a finger through my bag strap and tugs me back. like...... not so fast. like.... where do you think you’re going?

we hook our pinkies together when walking. monster.

he adjusts my necklace when it gets twisted, gently brushing his knuckles against my throat. no acknowledgment. no reaction. just fixes it and moves on. (like a freak.)

if we’re arguing and i cross my arms, he just reaches out and tugs my wrist free, uncrossing them with this calm, effortless little motion. LIKE??? HELLO??? I NEED THAT BACK, ACTUALLY???

[randomcryptid]

They are haunting me, I need them to fall in love and then have a divorce arc.

Yapping below👇

There are multiple ways I could set up for them to start dating .

Politics (truce?)

Young Ink sneaking into dreamtale to give them a childhood friends story line.

(I could imagine the reunion similar to the nowhere king and the women. Where dreamtale was one of the first au's made and ink really wanted to learn more about people and emotions and decided to sneak in while telling themselves it's fine as long as it doesn't affect the story. And nightmare slowly gets to know some one who doesn't hate him on sight and dream gets a friend who isn't just here to moch off his good vibes. I like to think ink slips sometimes and accidentally tells the twins about au's but not his job and nightmare starts planning to run away from dreamtale but wants to convince dream to go with them. Ink for some reason or another (punishment for interfering with a story too much) gets locked out of dreamtale during the apple incident but manages to take dreams statute (I like to think he looks more like petrified trees then stone) and keeps him safe in the doodle sphere. While nightmare tries to get out of dreamtale but can't control his powers so he just rampages but eventually manages to get out but only to extremely negative au's (horrortale , ect) and slowly starts making a name for himself as he looks for his brother and ink , who he has no idea is the protector of the multiverse. And doesn't find out for a while since all his information is so outdated and few people knew ink when he was younger. I also think these events would make ink very afraid of interfering with au's and getting to know people. I imagine when dream gets out? Unpetrifies? he wants to return to dreamtale but finds out he can't go in since it's so negative (nightmares doing) and eventually makes a team to try and fix the emotional balance but I don't think ink would join him (which would be a point of tension between them , which would be even greater since I imagine ink lets dream stay in the doodle sphere since he feels guilty thinking he messed up this guy's life. I also like the thought of error and inks fighting being softer like because ink can't get upset that error is out here destroying worlds since he's like I did that too on accident ,maybe I can convince to do something more productive. Ink meeting error he's just like me fr but unlike me I think he deserves a chance because he has an actual soul and not just a job description)

OR

I like the idea of an ink who is aware of the multiverse and is like ?!?! That would be entertaining only to get invested in the relationship and slowly get uncomfortable with the closeness a relationship brings. I could see nightmare agreeing to be in a relationship either due to his ego or he wants to use this to his advantage. Till nightmare gets comfortable with their relationship thinking this guy gets me while ink internally is freaking out eventually leading to them arguing. (Divorce arc) And now they try to avoid each other but keep running into each other due to reasons (I haven't decided)

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - March 22-28

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles! This month’s doodles, like every third month, will be free to the public, so take a look!

1. Crucial and heartwarming: see world’s first-ever wild jaguar translocation in Argentina

“Miní[, an offspring of rewilded jaguars,] is the first-ever release of a wild-born jaguar that’s been translocated for conservation purposes. […] Miní has joined two previously captive female jaguars [in a park] where a small, all-male wild population had been dwindling.”

2. Illinois Gov. Pritzker stands up for LGBTQ+ community in fiery HRC speech

“The governor particularly spoke out for transgender youth, saying we must not sacrifice the most persecuted for the most popular. [… “]Bullies respond to one thing, and one thing only, a punch in the face.”

3. The UK’s First ‘Stork Village’ Takes Flight

“For the first time in more than six centuries, white storks are calling Britain home again thanks to a dedicated conservation initiative to save the species. […] At the end of 2024, breeding numbers saw egg-straordinary results with 27 nests and 53 baby storks, doubling the previous year’s numbers.”

4. A quiet shift: The grid is being redefined by household consumers who no longer need it full time

“With rising adoption of rooftop solar, batteries, and electric vehicles, households are gradually altering their relationship with the grid. […] This redefined relationship doesn’t signal rejection — it reflects the growing capacity of households to meet part of their own needs.”

5. Europe’s Wolf Population On The Rise

““The recovery of wolves across human-dominated landscapes of Europe has been continuing during the past decade, with their population growing to over 21,500 individuals by 2022—a 58% increase in a decade,” the authors wrote. [… O]n average wolves killed 0.02% of livestock each year.”

6. Hospitals awarded funding for solar power work

“The investment of £8.5m by state-owned Great British Energy will enable rooftop panels and solar car ports to be installed at [several hospitals]. […] "Together, these panels will generate estimated savings of more than £635,000 a year."”

7. Nebraska Boards Sponsor Grain Bin Rescue Equipment, Training for Fire Departments

“[Nebraska Corn and Soybean boards are] donating two grain rescue tubes and two training sessions to fire and rescue departments in Nebraska. [… T]he initiative aims to equip rural fire and rescue teams with the knowledge and tools to respond to grain bin entrapments effectively.“

8. Sugar beet pulp fibers show potential for nutritional supplements and sustainable plastic alternatives

“New technology can separate the fibers in the sugar beet pulp left over after sugar production. Part of the fiber can be used as a nutritional supplement due to its anti-inflammatory properties[… and a]nother part of the fiber, the cellulose, can be made into components to replace, for example, plastic.”

9. Osmotic Power: The Next Wave of Renewable Energy

“Sweetch Energy’s technology could [produce] around 20 or 25 W/m2, a significant leap compared to the 1 W/m2 achieved by previous membrane devices. Moreover, by utilizing a biosourced material readily available within the industry for their membranes, the company anticipates the cost of materials would be reduced to one-tenth of the current price[….]”

10. Renegade Colorado Farmer Pushes Deeper into Unconventional Agriculture

“The grasshoppers stayed in the [pollinator] strips, and that triggered praying mantis to come in and eat. […] An agrivoltaic system […] has reduced moisture consumption by significant levels[….] “Local food nationwide is how to counter the industrial scale food industry.””

March 15-21 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[gorgeous777]

Letters, Fred Weasley x Fem. Reader

Written exchanges between you and your boyfriend over the summer

A/N: For purposes of the fic, no Voldemort. This takes place between Fred and the reader's sixth and seventh year

Part One of the Letters series

Enjoy!

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

July 27, 1994

Dear Freddie my love,

Hi.

First letter of the summer is always the hardest to write. I'm sorry it took me two weeks to write. You've been the only thing on my mind. I think a hug from you could cure me of this heartache. Needless to say, I miss you. I miss your dumb jokes and all the trick you play to get my attention. I don't like being halfway across the country from you, rather than the handful of staircases that normally stand between us. It's strange, I get so used to Hogwarts that it feels more like home than home does. But when I finally feel like home is home, it's time to go back to Hogwarts. It's a cycle, that's for sure.

Luckily though, this is the last time I have to go through it. I'm still not positive how I feel about us officially being seventh years now. I almost feel like this is all just some long drawn-out fever dream. How do I go from living at school for seven years (save the summer) straight to just being an adult? I mean yeah, I already have plans set and my career picked out, but I can't shake some of the anxiety.

Enough with all that negativity though.

How are you? How're you settling in? Have you and George made more business plans for your shop yet? Is Harry staying with you guys again? Did you find the picture I hid in your trunk? If not, then surprise! I hope you like it. I have a million other some odd questions to ask you. But for the time being, I'll let you answer all of those. Give me all the details, even if they're small or stupid. I wanna know everything.

Love yours only,

Y/N

7/28/94

To my #1 fan,

First off, two weeks was pure torture. I considered writing you first, but I restrained hard to keep my promise to let you be the first to. I was beginning to think you forgot. Really, I'm relived you didn't. You could have just sent a letter with a simple "hi" and some doodles and I would have been grinning like a madman.

I miss you too. It's bloody weird not being able to see your face everyday. I really miss that look you get when I tell one of my "lame" jokes that you try not to laugh at. (Spoiler alert: you fail every time) I did find your picture, almost instantly. You didn't hide it very well. I love it though and I put it on my nightstand. George has been teasing me endlessly about it. He swears I sigh like a lovesick victorian boy whenever I look at it. Lies. (Mostly) ((Not a lie at all))

We've been experimenting making to products to sell. Right now we're busy with one called SnogDrops. The name was my idea. Other than that it's same same. Our goal is to open the shop come next summer. And Harry is here, yeah. Mum as usual is thrilled to have him around, so is Ginny. Go figure. I'd be thrilled to have you here too. As for seventh year.. Yeah that whole train of thought is just mental. But you'll be just fine, you always are. If not, I'm here with a shoulder to cry on and "bad jokes" to cheer you up with.

Write back sooner than two weeks or I swear I'll follow your owl back to your house.

Hug waiting here when you want it, or several. Probably some snogs too.

Your favorite, Fred

P.S. Answer all your questions for me too

July 31st, 1994

Dear Favorite of Mine,

No need to follow O/N home. I'm glad things are going good with your guy's business plans, though I did doubt they would be going unlike planned. I've been doing surprisingly well. Better than usual anyway. I've slept in the t-shirt you gave me literally every night, so I'm pretty sure that's part of it. Your smell is comforting on several different levels. Other than that'd I've spent a good amount of time outside. Nothing too exciting or potentially dangerous like a hike or something. I've been hanging out in my gardens and reading mostly.

Boring, I know. I've enjoyed it though. My aunt gifted me a small stack of fiction muggle books so that's been they've been the subject of my attention. They actually aren't as bad as I thought they'd be. My mum said that muggles have no writing skills or creativity, but so far she's been incorrect. I've also gone swimming twice. I plan on going again here in a day or two with my cousins.

Have you gone swimming yet? Or do you not have anywhere close enough to. We have this huge pond not to far from the manor. It's practically a small lake. And I haven't drowned yet. Which, is surprising. Swimming isn't my strong suit by any means. But hey, a win is a win. For now.

I wish you were here having all this fun with me. I'm gonna try to talk my dad into letting you come stay the weekend with us or something. Not this one though, obviously. Speaking of, tell Harry I said happy birthday and give him all my best. I'd send him a card or something, but I feel like that'd be a bit awkward y'know?

Anyhow, if I don't get to see you soon I think I might actually drop dead at any given moment. It's gotten to the point were I seriously think I've started missing your horrible jokes. That's bad. That's really, really bad. I'm holding you to those several hugs too, so be prepared.

Love your biggest fan,

Y/N

P.S. Dad said yes, time doesn't matter

8/2/94

To the future Mrs. Weasley,

Happy to hear my shirt is being put to good use. I recon it looks a whole lot better on you than it ever did me too. Not as happy about your potential drowning. Be careful, yeah? For your own well being and mine. I feel like a total wet mop worrying about you. On that note, I haven't gone swimming yet. That can change though, say I do come spend the weekend at yours. Will your parents mind if I get there by Floo Powder? We can work that out.

I'll talk to my mum about it regardless. Doubt she'll have any problem with it so long as I tell her your address. Things over here are chaotic, as normal. George nearly burned off his eyebrow yesterday working on a prototype. Besides that, things are mostly good in making products. As for your confession..

I won't lie, I reread that bit more times than I counted. I'm taking it as full permission to come at you with at least three horrible puns the next time I see you (hopefully in a few days). You'll get your hugs then too. Something else too, but that bit's a surprise ;) I'll make sure to be decent around your parents too, but I can't promise I won't sneak into your room if they put me in a different one. Cuddling you is an opportunity I refuse to miss out on. Especially after being away from you for so bloody long. Be ready or not.

Your personal court jester, Fred.

P.S. Harry says thank you

August 9, 1994

Dear Court Jester,

I had so much fun this weekend. I wish you didn't have to go home. If I could, I'd keep you with me at all times. But, I suppose that you do have a family of your own to go spend time with too. Thank you again for the necklace, it was in fact a new surprise. I was completely expecting you saying that to be an innuendo. Still, I should know to expect the unexpected from you by now. I can also confirm my parents didn't hear you sneaking into my room at night. Or if they did, they haven't said anything.

Either way, that was the best I've slept in months. Makes me miss our naps together at school when we skip class. It'll have to be a must do on the train ride back to Hogwarts. Oh, and, that hickey you left on the back of my shoulder didn't go unnoticed by my cousin, so thanks for the single most humiliating moment of my life. They all think we got down now. You wish. (I wish too but not gonna happen until we graduate, so keep dreaming lover boy)

Also, you left your jumper of here if you were looking for it. I'm not sending it back to you, it's mine now. You're welcome. I hate how busy the next three weeks are gonna be that with getting everything read for school. Packing, shopping, y'know all the stuff. I bet that takes extra long for you because of all your siblings + Harry. I hope it isn't too overwhelming or stressful. I miss and love you more with every passing second. Please write back soon. I know I'm a fine one to talk, but still. And give your mom my best for letting you come over and stay for two nights.

Love, the future Mrs. Weasley,

Y/N

8/30/94

To my girl,

I know it's a bit late to write you back, really late actually. I know it's a little pointless to send this since we see each other tomorrow, but I felt like it anyway. I would have wrote you back much sooner if your letter didn't get misplaced. I was sleeping when the mail came (so I'm told) and mum forgot to tell me I got anything. I'm sorry, I really am. You were right though, the last two weeks were a nightmare. Though, George and I successfully packed up a good amount of our products to sell while at school. Yknow what that means; the games afoot. We plan on giving Filch a run for his money this year, it being our last in all.

I love you too, I miss you more. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. You'll get your cuddles and your nap, rest assured. We'll talk more then while I loath every minute between our reconnection.

Yours undoubtedly, Fred.

P.S. You can keep the jumper.