#go back and educate yourselves

[septembersghost]

some of you have leaned so hard into your utterly empty, intellectually devoid, frivolous language that masquerades as progressive radicalism and sociological purity testing that you have fallen all the way into dehumanization and condemnation of the "other" to prove from behind your screens that you have joined the "correct side" of what is tantamount to hardline dogmatic thinking. if you suppress individual thought, compassion, open discussion, and malign the free press, you are not a progressive, you are a functional conservative in a different outfit. if you have decided that your abstract language and frothy ideals should be elevated above actual human life, and are using said language to divorce it from humanistic approaches to others and concern for their welfare, or worse, are using it to actively harass and frighten them, you are, in fact, the very enemy you claim to be fighting, and you should not be trusted, because your philosophies are built upon sand and will shift with the tides to make sure you are not affected by the damage that you do.

[whilereadingandwalking]

I can’t put into words how dispiriting it is to watch all these plus size idols, celebrities, drag queens thin. The body positive movement wasn’t perfect, but we had made some progress. I watched Lizzo dance and flute in front of me and near cried. Watched mid-fat girls flourish in their new comfortable bodies now that they could breathe. Watched plus-size drag queens show they too could be sexy and not just a joke.

But Ozempic and weight loss drugs have snatched people up one by one. For every one there’s some reason it’s justified (oh, they did the work, oh but they might be pre diabetic, oh well they might need it though). Or there’s a celeb who lies about not taking it then admits they have.

And for every one of those, there’s a kid or woman watching who thinks it’s just supposed to be that easy to lose weight. Who thinks there’s something wrong with her if she can’t shed her body.

It’s the understudied weight loss drug of our generation, no different from the pills of before. In 20, 30 years we’ll be talking about all the side effects or failures and it will be a shame.

But that won’t come before a generation of young girls, boys, kids have to endure the big back jokes and Ozempic commercials and the internalization of the idea that skinny is healthy and skinny is what we should be and skinny is what is natural, and all big-boned and bodied girls could be skinny and happier and somehow better tomorrow if they just had the money and the prescription.

Anyway, go read some Aubrey Gordon and Kate Manne, please please please. Educate yourselves about fatness & fatphobia and be kind to yourselves and each other.

[cosmosluckycharms]

Super Rich Kids

A/N: hey guys warning this is sosososo bad im tryna get out of writers block by forcinf myself to write help

reader is loosly based off haruhi fujioka but not that much (you dont have to know anything about ohshc to understand this)

reader is gender neutral

ugh sorry this is so bad

After your mom died at an early age, around when you were 5. you and your father were by yourselves.

At first, it was difficult, you kept yourself company most of the time due to your father working hard to keep you both afloat.

You lived in an okay apartment, one that was in the middle of an area that was cheap, but dangerous to live in.

Gotham.

You knew how to cook and do chores around the house due to your mother teaching you before she passed.

In middle school, you threw yourself into your studies to be able to have a better life in the future.

You barely went out with friends, and when you did you'd leave early.

It wasn't that you didn't like or care for them, you were just busy trying to get into higher education.

It worked out for you. You were able to get a scholarship into a high school you used to dream of entering.

Gotham prep.

It wasnt the best, but it was better.

You had to leave your old high school midway through 9th grade.

It meant that you had to leave all your friends and teachers.

youd miss them, but a scholarship is a scholarship.

Plus, maybe you could still see them around?

You couldn't afford to get the fancy uniforms that cost almost as much as your rent, so you decided to procrastinate on getting one.

Your teachers would understand, right?

Your teachers did not understand.

They refused to let you go around the school without a uniform, so you had to use an old uniform from the lost and found.

It was dusty and had a couple of holes, but it'd have to do.

You also somehow kept managing to get lost, so whenever you walked into your classroom, you were usually 10 minutes late.

So much for a good first impression.

As you got to your 4th class of the day, you fumbled around with the doorknob, trying to open the classroom door without dropping your books and supplies.

You struggled a bit until a black-haired boy saw you looking a little stupid out the small window on the door.

He got up and unlocked it for you, and you almost dropped your pencil case

Thankfully, he picked it up and gave it to you before it hit the ground.

"Be careful next time," he smirked and held the door open for you.

As you were about to thank him, you heard the teacher clear her throat.

"And who might you be?"

"I'm Y/n," you spoke, trying not to look stupid in front of a class of 25 people.

She checked her attendance roster. "Last name?"

"L/n."

"you aren't on the roster. Are you sure you're in this class? You aren't skipping, are you?" she raised an eyebrow at you.

"I moved here like, two days ago. I have my schedule, though." you handed her your paper schedule, making sure not to drop anything.

Once the whole attendance thing was sorted out, you were sat down next to the blue-eyed boy.

You kept glancing at him through the corner of your eye.

He took notice and looked at you fully, catching you off guard.

You straightened your posture and looked at the board, making him chuckle.

"Why are you staring so hard?"

"Sorry, I don't know." you looked away in embarrassment.

The truth is, you didn't even notice you were staring. You were just taking notice of your surroundings.

Plus, he looked familiar

"You're Y/n, right?"

"Yep."

"I'm Tim." he put his hand out so you could shake it.

"Quiet you two." the teacher yelled, shutting you both up.

The class went by slowly. Luckily for you, the class was easy to pay attention to.

Most of the kids had their heads down and were asleep, including the boy next to you.

Sucks for him.

That was your last class of the day, and you started to make your way back to your apartment.

You had your slightly mangled wired headphones in, and didn't hear footsteps behind you.

You didn't notice the presence of a certain someone until you felt the tap of someone on your shoulder.

You turned around and saw Tim, and a blonde girl right next to him.

"Hey," Tim spoke

You took your earbud out "..Hey?"

"This is Steph, she's one of my friends. She's coming with us." Tim said, pointing to the blonde.

"To where?" you questioned, tilting your head.

"To his house, duh," Steph stated.

"I'm not coming." you tried walking ahead of them, only for Steph to hold your wrist.

"Why?" Tim questioned

"Because I have things to do." you had to start working on your resume to get a job.

"C'mon, just come over!" Steph insisted

"I'm fine."

"c'mon, we're your friends!" Tim spoke

You rolled your eyes ".. I just met you guys.."

"Whatever!" Steph dragged you by the wrist and started dragging you to Alfred's car.

You had to be pulled into the car by both Tim and Steph as you all made your way to the manor.

You didn't want to go, but you had no choice.

Both of them were insistent.

You didn't take notice of the driver and how surprised he looked to see you. You were spaced out looking at the window beside you thinking about how you could've avoided all of this.

"And who might you be?" the older man spoke

You jumped at his words. "I'm y/n— one of Tim's classmates."

"That's quite strange, he's never mentioned you."

"yeah, I just moved here like, two days ago. We just met like an hour ago."

"Oh, that's alright."

You pulled out your phone and texted your dad to let him know you wouldn't be getting home until later.

You knew he wouldn't see the text until later.

He was at work.

You looked out the window and spaced out on your way over to the manor.

Once you felt the car stop, you noticed how big the manor was.

You were surprised at how someone could live in it or even afford it.

It seemed that Tim could sense your shock.

He nudged your shoulder and snapped you out of it.

You, Steph, and Tim all made your way inside.

They knew their way around, so you had to follow behind them like a lost puppy.

You all made your way to the kitchen and sat down on the island.

The entire manor looked too fancy, like that fake house set at Ikea.

The countertops glimmered and shined in a way you've never seen before.

"Do you want something?" Tim asked

"I want to go home." you your your head down on the cold marble island.

Tim rolled his eyes "I meant like to drink or eat."

"Oh, uh, could I get some water?"

"Coming right up." he started making his way to get water.

You and Steph both went on your phones.

Steph liked talking, a lot.

It was sort of overwhelming for you, especially since you weren't used to talking to a lot of people.

You liked the quiet.

About around 5 minutes of being on your phone, you felt a gust of wind pass by you, and you saw what looked like an 11-year-old boy arguing with an older boy who had a tuft of white hair.

You put little to no mind to it as you continued to scroll on your phone.

Three seconds later Tim made his way back to the dining room.

You looked up from your phone to see Tim looking at the boys.

"Could you guys cut it out? We have company." Tim handed you a bottle of water

"My bad." the boy with the white tuft of hair walked up to you "I'm Jason."

You shook his hand. "Y/n."

"I will not apologize to them." the green-eyed boy spoke.

"Damian–" Tim tried to reprimand him

"that's fine." you got up from your chair "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

"Yeah, it's past that hallway." Jason pointed

"Thanks."

As you made your way to the bathroom, you could hear Damian getting scolded by Tim.

You checked your phone and noticed how your father still hadn't seen your messages.

You sighed and made your way back to the kitchen, not noticing the guy in front of you.

You accidentally bumped into him

"Sorry, my bad," you said.

"It's okay." you watched as the man scratched his head in confusion "I don't think I've seen you around, did Bruce just adopt you?"

"huh?" you tilted your head in confusion. "I'm just visiting, Tim and Steph invited me over."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"im Y/n."

"I'm Richard, most people call me Dick, though."

You snickered at the nickname, and Dick pretended to dramatically look offended.

You both made small talk as you made your way to the kitchen.

You sat back down on a seat and went back to scrolling on your phone, ignoring the ever-growing chaos of the siblings fighting.

Steph sat up and grabbed her bag, making her way out the door and waving goodbye to you.

You waved back.

After a minute or two of getting bored of your phone, you got up and grabbed your bag, ready to walk home.

"Y/n!" Jason called

"Hm?"

"Tell Damian to let go of my book!"

"I refuse, Todd!"

The name gave you deja vu like you've heard it before.

Wait a second.

You locked eyes with Jason, and you noticed how much he looked like Bruce Wayne's dead son.

From his eyes, to his nose, to his ears.

He had the same name too.

You gasped quietly.

How did you not notice sooner?

"You–you're Bruce Wayne's dead son!"

"What?" Jason's eyes widened

Jason started walking towards you, trying to intimidate you.

You started backing up in fear, not taking notice of the vase behind you.

You bumped into it, making it shatter onto the floor.

You looked at it and noticed how expensive everything looked.

Damn, rich people.

"Shoot, I'm so sorry! I can pay you guys back!" You tried putting the pieces back together but there was no use.

It was shattered.

You just had to hope that it wasn't too expensive–

Dick interrupted your train of thought "That vase was around a million dollars, I think."

You turned around to look at him, hoping he was lying ".. You're joking."

"I'm serious. We got it at an auction. One of a kind, you know." Tim spoke

"Shoot." you were visibly sweating "I cant afford that! I couldnt even afford a school uniform!"

"I have a way you could pay it back." Alfred spoke up from the shadows (how did you not notice him?"

"How?"

"Working as my apprentice."

this was so ass im sorry omg

yay this reader is NOT neglected 🥳🥳🥳 slightly better childhood 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

this is so ass omg

[mintedwitcher]

the baby gays are trying to dictate identities again and I am Tired. why does it matter? why does anyone having contradictory identities matter to you? you're happily pushing a transphobic rewrite of history in order to dictate how people are allowed to identify now and I am so tired.

let me be the one to break it to you: it does not matter how other people identify. the people in power who want to erase us are not working from a checklist of "good" vs "bad" queers. we are all filthy degenerates in their eyes. it does not matter if you have a label that "makes sense" - if you're not cishet, you've got a target on your back too. it won't save you to tape an extra one to the backs of your community. you will still be punished for deviating from the norm. so stop helping your oppressor. stop doing their work for them.

and for the love of all things good and queer in this world: educate yourselves. read up on your history. speak to queer elders. log the fuck off social media and go and immerse yourself in queer spaces if you're safe to do so. you need to be educated. this political climate relies on you being uneducated and easily manipulated. do not give them the satisfaction.

stand with your community, not against us. we want you to survive.

[koiukiy-o]

orphic; (adj.) mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding. ─── 007. the paper.

-> summary: when you, a final-year student at the grove, get assigned to study under anaxagoras—one of the legendary seven sages—you know things are about to get interesting. but as the weeks go by, the line between correlation and causation starts to blur, and the more time you spend with professor anaxagoras, the more drawn to him you become in ways you never expected. the rules of the academy are clear, and the risks are an unfortunate possibility, but curiosity is a dangerous thing. and maybe, just maybe, some risks are worth taking. after all, isn’t every great discovery just a leap of faith? -> pairing: anaxa x gn!reader. -> tropes: professor x student, slow burn, forbidden romance. -> wc: 3.3k -> warnings: potential hsr spoilers from TB mission: "Light Slips the Gate, Shadow Greets the Throne" (3.1 update). main character is written to be 21+ years of age, at the very least. (anaxa is written to be around 26-27 years of age.) swearing, mature themes, suggestive content.

-> a/n: this chapter is a bit dry, and incredibly fast paced, the angst lords held my shoulders gently and demanded my cooperation, and who am i to refuse... > unfortunately not a good angst writer. hopefully the next chapter fills in some gaps :P -> prev. || next. -> orphic; the masterlist.

Professor Anaxagoras stood at the front of the lecture hall, one hand braced against the edge of the desk, the other holding a thick folder of notes he hadn’t opened.

“—the symposium will run the final weekend of the month,” he said. “Attendance is limited to invitees and selected applicants. Presenters will include faculty, visiting lecturers, and a handful of external contributors with the appropriate security clearances.”

You glanced up from your notes. Kira stopped doodling in the margin of her page. Even Ilias straightened a little.

Professor Anaxagoras continued, eyes flicking briefly to the back of the hall, as if confirming something invisible. “Among the guests: Socrippe of the Erythrokeramists, whose work on semiotic containment theory in sacred structures should be familiar to most of you—”

“...and, by unfortunate persistence of committee will,” Anaxagoras said with unmistakable restraint, “Cerces, formerly of this faculty.”

That got a few scattered reactions—raised brows, a murmur or two.

“You may know her from her former lectures in phenomenology. Some of you”—his eyes passed over the hall with unreadable stillness—“have studied under her. You will find no one more exacting in her critique of academic laziness.”

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you let it out. The name lingers in the air.

“She specializes in ontology, and approaches metaphysics through embodied cognition. Expect poetry disguised as philosophy,” he said. “Or vice versa.”

Your pen stilled on the page.

Kira nudged you lightly under the desk, eyes narrowed in curiosity.

“She also,” Anaxagoras added, tone flatter now, “insists on calling the panel a ‘dialogic constellation,’ so prepare yourselves.”

Ilias made a face. “What does that even mean?”

“She thinks it sounds more participatory,” Anaxagoras replied, already turning toward the desk, “though experience suggests otherwise.”

“Socrippe of the Erythrokeramists,” he said, “representing a school that approaches spiritual inquiry through artistic interpretation. They concern themselves with the soul, with perception, and with questions of embodied truth—often through mediums most of you would not consider academic. They also lead artistic education across much of the western scholastic network, claiming creativity is essential to understanding.”

“Apuleius,” he said last. “Of the Nodists. Their position is… less subtle. They believe all things are numbers. Not metaphorically—literally.”

He turned back to the room, chalk still in hand.

“To the Nodists, mathematics is not a tool, but a medium through which spiritual logic is expressed. They treat equations as divine revelation. Apuleius is their youngest speaker in a decade. He may attempt to convert you.”

A ripple of laughter this time. Ilias muttered something about cult vibes.

He went on, with a slight pause, “Expect graphs. Animated ones.”

A quiet wave of laughter rippled through the room.

“The application window closes by the end of this week. No extensions. Submission requires a statement of focus and relevant academic record.”

You’re still in your seat by the time lecture ends, notebook open but mostly ignored now, letting the noise filter out around you.

You shift, elbow brushing Kira’s as she taps the cap of her water bottle against the edge of the desk. Ilias, who’s been half-slumped over his notebook for most of the lecture, perks up.

“You still applying?” Ilias asks Kira—too quickly, voice a little too bright, like he’s rehearsed it and still tripped over the delivery.

Kira glances at him. “I am.”

He blinks. “Wait, really?”

She nods, casual as ever. “Yeah.” Her eyes flick to you, unreadable for half a second. 

Ilias sits up straighter like he’s just been hit by lightning. “Oh. Uh. Cool. That’s cool. I mean, I was thinking about it. Just, you know—my grades, maybe not entirely be optimal for that kind of thing… But hey—if you’re applying, maybe I will too. Strength in numbers, right? Mutual suffering.”

Kira smirks. “If you make it, I’ll bake you a whole cake.”

“You’re underestimating how motivating that is,” Ilias says, already pulling out his tablet like he’s going to start the application right then and there.

“I’m hoping everyone else applies too,” she says, “Would be nice. Like a little field trip.”

From behind you, unhurried footsteps and an exaggerated yawn cuts through– low, rough, clinging to sleep.

You glance back to see Phainon making his way down from the last row, cardigan half off one shoulder, white shirt rumpled, one eye still closed against the light. Behind him, Mydei trails with quiet ease, carrying two bags like it was second nature. 

Phainon drops into the seat in front of you with a thud and immediately turns sideways to slump across your desk like gravity has personally betrayed him.

“If anyone asks,” he mutters, “I was here the whole time.”

“Obviously,” you say, nudging his arm off your notebook. “Nothing says ‘academic presence’ like arriving in slow motion after the lecture ends.”

He makes a muffled noise that might be agreement, despair, or both.

“You missed a lot,” Kira offers, lightly. “Prof talked about the symposium.” 

Phainon lifts his head just enough to look at you. “You’re actually applying, right?”

You blink. “No? For the millionth time, I am not.”

Mydei slides onto the table in front of you, legs swinging gently off the edge. He rests his chin on his hand and surveys the group like a tired tutor trying to gauge who did the reading. “I applied last night. I figured you might change your mind after…” His gaze cuts toward the hallway—where Anaxagoras had been—

You stiffen.

And then, as if summoned by the gods of chaos, Ilias flails into the conversation with all the grace of a brick in freefall. “I know made a legally binding promise not to bring it up, and I’ve honored that oath under duress.”

You close your eyes. “Ilias—”

“But someone else brought it up!” he continues, pointing a wildly accusatory finger at Mydei. “So technically, this is no longer my fault and I am absolutely allowed to say— he touched your hand!”

You drop your forehead to the table with a dull thunk.

“Ilias,” you mutter into the woodgrain.

“I saw it!” he insists, wide-eyed. “AnaxaY/N fingertip touch was monumental! And you– you went full system crash. I saw the cursor spinning-buffering wheel-blue screen of existential crisis all over your face!”

Kira raises an eyebrow, barely turning her head. “You’re not wrong,” she says, voice even. “It was painfully obvious, too.”

You shoot her a look. “Whose side are you on?”

She shrugs, unbothered. “I’m just saying. You paused while handing the phone back to him like the fate of the world depended on it.”

Ilias gasps in vindication. “Thank you! Finally, someone sees the truth.”

Kira takes a long sip of water, then adds lightly, “Besides, I think it’s sweet. Tragic, probably. But sweet.”

You scoff. “It was just an email.”

“Sure,” she says, her eyes glinting.

Ilias points at her, triumphant. “This is why Kira’s the only one here qualified to interpret sexual tension.”

You press your palms to your face. “Please stop saying sexual tension.’”

“Why?” Kira asks, tone playful now. “It’s starting to feel... accurate.”

Mydei lets the laughter die down before turning his attention back to you. His voice is gentler this time, quieter. “You don’t have to explain yourself. But if you are going to change your mind, make sure it’s because you want to. Not because someone brushed your hand and your brain rewrote its operating system.”

Your mouth opens, then closes.

“That’s not what happened, and I’m not changing my mind.” you mutter.

Ilias says from the table, still face-down. “As if I didn’t see you walk into a wooden beam afterward.”

Kira flicks a piece of bread at his head. “Enough.”

Mydei grins, stretching languidly as he slides back off the table. 

Phainon makes a low noise, something between scandal and amusement. “But seriously, a weekend of intellectual sparring in a windowless auditorium doesn’t interest you?”

Ilias gives him a look. “That can’t be a selling point.”

“I think Honour Roll’s applying,” Kira murmurs, nodding her head towards a guy taking notes… after class ended? “Had his hand raised before prof even finished the sentence.”

Ilias gives her a look. “Isn’t he the one who thought metaphysics was ghost biology?” 

You side-eye her. “He defined Cartesian dualism as a debate between two guys named Descartes.”

“He looked so proud, too.” 

She hides a grin behind her bottle. “At least he’s consistent. So,” Kira says slowly, “should we all apply and make this a collective breakdown?” and though she addressed the entire table, her eyes were fixed on you.

You raise a brow. “I just said I wasn’t applying.”

She shrugs. “People say a lot of things before peer pressure.”

“I am alarmingly immune to group influence,” you say.

Mydei tilts his head at you. “You’re really out?”

“For now,” you say, and tap your pen against the edge of the desk. “Not every mystery needs a dissertation.”

Kira leans toward the desk, elbow resting against the edge. “What’s a symposium even like?”

Mydei shrugs one shoulder, eyes still on the page. “Professor Anaxagoras never goes to those actually,” he says, matter-of-fact. “Too many vague theories and recycled arguments.” He mocks, albeit accurately. “Said it’s a waste of time.”

You pause, the words settling in.

You look at the open notebook in front of you, still mostly blank. Outside, sunlight drifts in across the floor, catching the edge of a scuffed boot, the curve of Kira’s pen, the fold of Phainon’s sleeve where he’s halfway to sleep again.

Mydei doesn’t elaborate, and Phainon doesn’t ask. He’s already slouching deeper in his chair, arms folded behind his head, eyes drifting shut again. “Wake me if enlightenment knocks,” he mutters.

Mydei flips his pen between his fingers. “If it does, it won’t be for you.”

The room’s mostly empty now, the last of the footsteps fading into the corridor outside.

You start gathering your things too. Kira stretches, rotating her wrist where she'd been fidgeting with her bottle cap. She nudges Ilias’ ankle lightly with her foot. “Come on.” 

Ilias startles like he wasn’t expecting to be addressed directly. “Me? You want me to–? Okay, yes. I am coming. Coming is what I’m doing.”

He scrambles to gather his things, nearly knocking over his water bottle in the process. Kira just watches, expression unreadable.

He swings the strap over his shoulder, catches it on the back of the chair, and nearly falls backward trying to recover.

Kira raises an eyebrow. “You good?”

“I’m excellent,” he says, voice going high and too fast. “Never better.”

She starts walking. “Right.”

He follows like a loyal, over-caffeinated puppy. “Did you know that pringles fit perfectly in a cylindrical tube because they’re hyperbolic paraboloids plotted over a circular domain?” 

Kira, mid-sip of her tea, blinks at him. "... Do you even know what that means?"

Ilias freezes for a split second, his eyes widening slightly. His hand hovers awkwardly over his fries, which he suddenly seems much less interested in. “Uh. I mean... yeah, totally. It’s... it’s like geometry or something.”

He clears his throat, trying to recover. “You know, math... shapes... real smooth stuff—yeah, I read about it somewhere.”

Kira watches him for a moment, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Sure you did.”

Ilias sighs dramatically and shrugs, defeated. "Okay, fine, maybe I don't exactly know what I’m talking about. But you were impressed, right?"

Their voices drift toward the door, Kira’s dry commentary punctuated by Ilias’s increasingly flustered rebuttals.

You’re still smiling faintly when your phone buzzes.

It’s an email.

From: Anaxagoras Subject: (blank) “Student, Appreciate your thoughts—if and when you have them. Regards, Anaxagoras”

That’s all.

Student?

You stare at the files attached:

Cerces_Entanglement.pdf Cerces_SubjectiveStructure.pdf

You’re still not applying. You haven’t changed your mind.

But you download them anyway.

It’s past midnight when you finally open it.

You’d told yourself you were just going to skim. One paragraph, maybe two—enough to say you’d looked. Enough to reply, if he ever asked.

But the first page pulls you in.

Cerces doesn’t write like she’s explaining something. She writes like the truth’s already there, and you’ve simply forgotten how to see it. The language is dense, sure, but it unfolds—slowly, precisely—like it was meant for people willing to do the work.

She makes a case for perception not as a filter, but as a force. Subjective experience shaping what is real, not just coloring it.

You don’t even realize how long you’ve been reading until the cursor on your half-finished assignment blinks back at you, still waiting. You blink down at your screen. Somehow, you’re already halfway through a side note you didn’t plan to write, tying Cerces’ structure-of-thought models to the assignment. 

You hadn’t meant to write that. You hadn’t meant to use any of it.

But here you are.

The question was already formed in your mind before his chalk reached the lower edge of the board the next day.

You didn’t raise your hand at first. You waited for the shift in tone he always used to signal the end of the main lecture arc. Waited for that half-step back from the board, the pivot, the glance across the room to see who had been keeping up. And when it came, you lifted your hand.

“Professor?” you said.

Anaxagoras didn’t sigh. He didn’t frown. He simply turned his head slowly, gaze catching on you with the kind of mechanical precision that suggested your voice had registered—barely.

You didn’t waver. “I had a question about the holographic encoding model,” you said, steady. “If we assume memories are distributed across a system rather than stored locally—does that imply the memory itself could exist as a form of interference pattern? One that reassembles partially, depending on context? Or is it more likely that what we call noise is actually unreadable signal?”

There was a beat of silence.

You felt it ripple across the room, a collective moment of attention, not quite tension—but close. Ilias, one row behind, sat up straighter. Kira had already lowered her pen, watching.

Anaxagoras didn’t speak right away.

He reached instead for the edge of the podium, adjusting a stray paper with unnecessary precision—his movements precise, composed, almost too still. The board still glowed behind him, but his eyes didn’t return to the projection. They flicked to you—once.

And then away again.

“Review the Feynman boundary analog,” he said flatly. “It’s in the assigned material.”

You blinked. “I did, but that doesn’t address the noise threshold—if the scale is nonlinear, wouldn’t that change the coherence—”

“You’ll find the constants you’re referring to in the last section,” he said, already turning back to the board. His voice held no edge, no invitation. “Try reading more closely.”

The dismissal was cold.

You sat there, notebook open, page half-filled with the equations you’d been working through during his lecture. The words hit sharper than they should’ve. 

“I did read it,” you said, softer than you meant to. Your voice sounded smaller in the large hall, like it didn’t belong.

Anaxagoras didn’t look back. He nodded once—mechanically. “Then read it again.”

No further comment. No elaboration.

He returned to his notes as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all.

You sat there, motionless, your pen frozen midair. Slowly, you closed your notebook, spine pressing against your fingers until it hurt. You didn’t speak again for the rest of the class. Just stared at the fading diagrams on the board, heart thudding low in your chest.

No rebuttal. No protest.

The cafe is buzzing with the usual mid-afternoon rush, students hunched over their laptops, friends chatting in the corner booths. But as you approach the counter, you can’t shake the knot in your stomach.

Kira is behind the register, her usual bright smile faltering slightly when she sees you. Her eyes narrow, a silent question forming as she taps your order into the system. You force a smile, trying to push past the unease creeping up on you.

“One medium cappuccino, please,” you say, voice steady enough to fool anyone who might be listening.

She presses the button to start the machine, but her gaze lingers on you, studying you in the way only she can. “You good?” she asks, her tone soft but sharp with concern. She’s already noticed—how could she not? The lines between your brows, the way you hold yourself too stiffly–

You shake your head slightly, waving it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, you know? Assignment stuff.”

She doesn’t buy it for a second. You can see it in the way her lips press together, in the small shift in her posture as she pours the espresso, then expertly steams the milk. 

Once she finishes, she slides the coffee cup toward you. “Take a seat,” she says, her voice more firm now. “I’ll be right over.”

You try to protest, but she’s already grabbing a chair and pulling it out next to you before you can stop her. She’s nothing if not persistent.

You set your laptop down as she sits beside you, her expression gentle but resolute.

“So,” Kira says, casually glancing at your screen. “Tell me what’s up.”

You give her a half-hearted smile, opening your laptop again but not really focusing on it. “Seriously, Kira. I’m fine.”

She doesn’t budge, her gaze never leaving you as she tilts her head, considering you with all the patience she can muster. “You know you can be honest with me, right?”

You exhale slowly, your fingers hovering over the keys as you consider how much to say. The truth feels too tangled, too messy to admit out loud. But Kira is waiting, and she’s not going to let you distract yourself with your work.

With a frustrated sigh, you finally lean back in your chair and close the laptop. “It’s Anaxagoras,” you mutter, your eyes dropping to the table. “He’s just being weird. You saw him in class today, didn’t you?” 

Kira’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t say anything right away. She lets you breathe, lets the words settle into the air before she speaks. 

“I noticed. But you know he’s difficult to read,” she says gently. 

After a brief pause, you push her hand aside and open your laptop, scrolling until you find the email, still sitting there like a little landmine in your inbox. “He sent me this after I told him I’m not applying to attend the symposium the other day.” You flick the screen toward her.

Kira leans in, reading quickly. “‘Appreciate your thoughts—if and when you have them.’ Huh.”

“What?”

She gives you a flat look. “What did you reply?”

You blink. “I didn’t, yet.” 

“…Why not?”

“I—I didn’t know what to say?” you protest, a little too defensively. “It’s good. It’s actually really good. But if I just emailed back like, ‘Nice paper, Professor,’ I’d sound like an idiot. I was gonna sit with it. Think. Wait until I had something meaningful to say.”

Kira squints. “And how long has it been?”

You hesitate. “Two days.”

She stares at you. “Okay. So maybe that’s why he’s being cold?”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—maybe he’s sulking.” A sudden smirk takes over her face.

You blink slowly. “...Sulking?”

Kira nods, casual as anything. “Mhm.”

You stare at her. “Why would he be sulking?”

She lifts a shoulder. “I dunno. You didn’t email him back.”

You frown, puzzled. “But... why would that make him upset?”

Kira looks at you like you just asked why water is wet. “’Cause he sent you a paper.”

“I know, but I’m sure he sends papers to people all the time.”

“Yeah,” she says, like that proves her point. “But he sent it to you. With a note. That said he’d appreciate your thoughts.”

You look down at your laptop, then back at her. “…But I haven’t had time to really sit with it yet. I didn’t wanna reply with something shallow like ‘cool’ or whatever.”

Kira nods like that makes sense, but only a little. That annoying grin is still plastered on her face. “Still. You didn’t say anything. And now he’s ignoring you.”

You tilt your head. “But that doesn’t mean he’s upset. Maybe he was just in a bad mood today.”

She squints a bit. “Yeah, but... he’s usually more focused on you. You know?”

You furrow your brow, trying to backtrack in your head. “... It was just an email?”

Kira shrugs. “Still.”

You nod slowly, still not really getting it, but also kind of… getting it.

Kira pats your arm. “You’re smart. But you’re kinda dumb, too.”

You blink at her. “Thanks?”

“Anytime,” she says, already standing to get back to the counter.

“…Alchemy,” Anaxagoras begins without preamble, voice steady, measured. “Despite the clichés, was never simply the pursuit of gold. It was the architecture of transformation—externally, yes. But also internally. Philosophically. Psychologically. In some theories, even mnemonically.”  

You glance up.  

Anaxagoras, meanwhile, walks slowly across the platform, gesturing without flourish. “Certain alchemic schools treated memory not as record, but as relic—something to be unearthed, transmuted, and occasionally… relived.”  

He pauses.  

“Cerces, for example, argues this too,” he adds, almost lazily, eyes skimming across the rows of students. “Though she does not call it alchemy.”  

And then—without warning—his gaze lands on you. Not unkind. Not pointed. But undeniably direct.  

“In one of her papers, she proposes a model where memory isn’t stored, but stabilized—by narrative. That stability is fragile, vulnerable to external disruption. So,” he says, as if this is all perfectly routine, “what happens when that narrative fails?”  

You blink. Slowly.  

“Chaos,” you say, forcing a bored tone, not bothering to lift your head. “Or a very dramatic existential crisis. Depending on your level of caffeine.”

You don’t look at him. But out of the corner of your eye, you catch the slight twitch of his mouth. Not quite a smile. But close enough.

You swear his voice is the slightest bit drier when he continues.

“Chaos, yes. Though Cerces might use the word collapse.”  

You flip a page in your notebook, already scribbling something down before you realize what you're doing.

Ilias leans in, whispering from the side of his mouth. “You didn’t tell me the secret midnight reading was actually good.”  

You keep writing. “Shut up, Ilias.”  

You would have replied sooner. You really would have.

It wasn’t because the paper wasn’t interesting—it was, annoyingly so. Precise and elegant and infuriatingly thought-provoking in the way only he could be. But you didn’t know what to say. Not yet.

Opening your laptop, you now see 1 unread message from: Anaxagoras@thegrove.edu Subject: RE: – Curious if any of the arguments held up under your scrutiny. —A.

Half of you wishes you could just smash your laptop (or your head) into the wall, but the other half of you is desperately trying to compose yourself long enough to make sense of what you’re about to do.

Before you know it, you have your phone pressed to your ear with a death grip. 

You check the time: 3:07 a.m.

Then you stare at the blinking cursor on your laptop screen. 

It rings six times before a groggy voice picks up.

“…What?”

“I need your help.”

A pause. Then Ilias exhales, clearly still half-asleep. “Are you in immediate danger?”

“Academic danger, if that counts,” you admit. “I’m trying to write an email to Professor Anaxagoras. I just… I’m stuck.”

There’s a long silence. You hear the creak of bedsprings.

“You called me at 3 a.m. to help you write an email?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” you say again, calmly. “I’ve drafted five versions, none of them feel right. I’m overthinking the phrasing.”

“…Okay. What's the context?”

“I read through the papers he sent me. He followed up this afternoon and asked for my thoughts. I don’t want to send something too short, but I also don’t want it to sound like I’m trying too hard. I just want to sound competent.”

“Okay, reasonable. What have you written so far?”

“I’m worried I sound like I’m trying to seduce him. Sending an email that sounds like a confession of undying love for someone who doesn’t even know your middle name doesn’t seem appropriate.”

He groans dramatically. “Just read the damn drafts. I’m getting secondhand anxiety here.”

“‘Dear Anaxagoras, I hope this email finds you well. I have carefully reviewed your paper, and—’”

He cuts you off with a loud snort. “That’s the seduction version?”

You stare at the phone screen. “...I can’t tell anymore.”

“I’m crying, oh my god. Okay, what’s next?”

You glance at the most recent draft and read aloud: “Dear Professor Anaxagoras, thank you for forwarding the studies. I’ve reviewed them and would appreciate the opportunity to discuss a few thoughts, if you’re available.”

A pause. Then: “That sounds… fine? Why don’t you like it?”

“It feels a little generic. I don’t want it to sound like a template.”

“Well, you are emailing your professor. It’s not supposed to sound like a novel.”

You lean back in your chair, running a hand across your face. “I know. I just keep second-guessing the tone. I want to acknowledge that I’ve read and thought about the material, not just skimmed it.”

“Okay. Then add a sentence. Mention something specific.”

You nod slowly. “Maybe something like: ‘The section regarding recursive stability in cognitive patterning was especially relevant to my current work on--”

“Stop right there. It’s 3 a.m., I don’t have the brain cells to translate Nerd Latin.”

You adjust the wording slightly on your screen. “I think this version works.”

“Good. Send it.”

You hesitate for a moment, rereading. “Alright.”

You hit the button.

There’s a long, terrible silence. You stare at your inbox, watching the email disappear into the ether.

Ilias groans lightly. “There. Done. Crisis averted. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Thanks,” you say. “Sorry for waking you.”

“Night.” Click.

-> next.

taglist: @starglitterz @kazumist @naraven @cozyunderworld @pinksaiyans @pearlm00n @your-sleeparalysisdem0n @francisnyx @qwnelisa @chessitune @leafythat @cursedneuvillette @hanakokunzz @nellqzz @ladymothbeth @chokifandom @yourfavouritecitizen @sugarlol12345 @aspiring-bookworm @kad0o @yourfavoritefreakyhan @mavuika-marquez @fellow-anime-weeb927 @beateater @bothsacredanddust @acrylicxu @average-scara-fan @pinkytoxichearts @amorismujica @luciliae @paleocarcharias @chuuya-san @https-seishu @feliju @duckydee-0 @dei-lilxc @eliawis @strawb3rri-bliss

(send an ask/comment to be added!)

[dandysworld-meh-imagines]

Angst of Dandy x wife reader? Before gardenview closed, they were filming an episode with Dandy and Reader, and then Reader dies on set. (maybe being crushed by a heavy set piece or something)

(Are you okay? I hope you are getting plenty of rest and hydrating well. Self-care is important!)

Dandy With A Wife! Reader Who Dies While Recording An Episode!

I think it's REEALLLLYYY fucking funny how you are asking me if I'm okay after dropping one of the most angsty scenarios I have ever written so far BAHAHAHAHA but yes yes, I'm surviving, I drew so much today and I really enjoyed it, hehe. Here you go, dear anon! I hope you are doing okay, thank you for requesting! <3

Obviously a warning here for death stuff skskss please take care of yourselves, readers! Don't force yourself to read if you feel uncomfortable, even a little bit!!

-Anna

-Recording episodes would be something all the toons would try and do with the help of staff. It would be for the children to watch and learn many things from it, after all. They needed to do this a lot so the staff would gather footage and everything they could to turn it into an educational show while also making it fun for the little kids. A cast of colorful characters going on adventures or teaching lessons to everyone who happened to watch the show. A simple show that even a parent could sit back and relax watching it.

-The whole thing would be quite impressive too, a lot of cameras and staff making sure everything goes smoothly. They tried setting up the scenes and background behind so the vibe was definitely there. It could be drawings or even actually outside or somewhere in Gardenview. Sometimes they even recorded episodes in places the toons felt most comfortable with as well. Arthur did say to the staff that they don't want unhappy toons in here. Delilah didn't care as long as work was getting done smoothly, even watching from the sides as the toons she created said lines and jumped around happily.

-Even if the episodes were never in 3D, they did this to capture the voice of the toons clearly and have a whole video to use for reference when animating the show. To also capture how each toon moves or changes expression to make it accurately. It worked wonders, actually, the many cameras would capture the toons in their glory, in many angles and especially their expressions clearly. Even the way their expressions would change or how they stood or even what they did when it wasn't their turn to speak, they captured all of it for the animators. The toons could act however they felt like as long as they followed the script.

-You and Dandy would obviously be picked for almost every single episode, you would often accompany him in his little adventures and were eager to say your lines together as you interacted happily. It even got the staff smiling as they recorded and did their job, some scenes would need to be recorded again as sometimes the staff would get distracted. Honestly, could you really blame them? The toons looked so alive and everything, especially you two, who happened to also be married, it really got them feeling amazed a lot.

-Everything was fine, of course, it wasn't like they were any actual serious problems. Yes, Shrimpo would be grumpy here and there or a toon would forget lines often or something but it wouldn't cause much of a problem. They could take a quick break or a staff can go in and help a toon rehearse their lines quickly. Thankfully video wasn't always needed, just the staff capturing the toon saying it perfectly. With the amount of staff in such a huge place in there, things got to work fast, Delilah made sure of it as well.

-It wasn't until one sunny day, no one really seemed to notice that a specific piece seemed.. a little off. You really had to look hard at it to understand that it would fall out eventually though the staff seemed to brush it aside, thinking nothing of it, going along with their day. Little did they know that this mistake would cause something horrible. It was their job to make sure everything was okay, so if something went wrong, it would be on them. Who knows what exactly made them feel a bit lazy to check this time, was it Delilah and her being a bit pushy about everything being perfect? They just thought it looked fine? Who knew, really.

-Nothing seemed wrong at first, of course. The recording went just fine, you were saying your lines perfectly, even doing your signature poses or smiles as you and Dandy were talking about the situation in front of you two. The last thing you could see was Dandy flinching, frowning suddenly as he looked at something behind you. You felt confused before the heavy piece hit you, crushing your poor body instantly, ichor spilling around immediately. Dandy took slow steps back as he breathed heavily, watching how staff surrounded you immediately as he gripped his arms shakily.

-Dandy was trembling as he just watched all the staff trying to take off the heavy piece off of your body, ichor messing everything up and spreading on the floor. Delilah picked you up in her arms with a thin line on her lips before covering you with something she found nearby so no one else would see your uhh.. let's say ending. Dandy tried to desperately follow her before Arthur placed a firm hand on his shoulder, holding him back. It worked since Dandy was feeling very unwell at the moment, his eyes watching your hand that was sticking out, with the same ring he proposed to you with long ago. He just stood still as quiet tears fell out of his eyes as he shook, his hands becoming tight fists.

-It was safe to say that he didn't cope well after your passing, your shared room felt so.. empty. Nothing felt the same anymore. No one would ever thought of this situation happening in such a safe place like Gardenview, especially with so many staff making sure the place run well. Arthur would check on him and made sure he ate still as he felt very worried for Dandy while Delilah was basically nonexistent for a good while now. Only few other toons knew what happened to you because if everyone heard what happened, it would truly cause panic in this place. Arthur would try coming up with any excuse he could and told every staff not to say a word to the poor toons.

-He didn't know if you could ever be back but he hoped.. silently. He knew toons were made by Delilah so maybe something could be done. He just hoped.. you still had all your memories, if you ever happened to come back. He didn't know how he would actually handle it if you actually forgot about him, about everything here. All he could do right now is hug Pebble close to him as he stroked his little head. They both silently cried as they rested in the room after that traumatic event. Dandy longed for you and focused on taking care of Pebble now. He would have to ask for Astro's help to get even a wink at night, because he felt absolutely restless when he couldn't hold you close to him anymore and drift to sleep easily.

Thank you for reading! <3

[winnie1emon]

“I’m a man now”

lorenzo berkshire x american!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 1.3k

cw: mdni!! kind of childhood friends to lovers, sort of rekindling, cursing, heavy makeout, sexual language, tiniest bit of fluff (?)

an: lowkey not proofread since I did this instead of sleeping, first piece of work on this blog, title may or may not be a play on louis’ role in enola holmes haha

As sweat began to bead on your forehead, you shielded your eyes from the raging sun, watching the ice cream from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour melt in your hand. In your other hand, were bags of books, a new set of robes, and a brand new cauldron for you to start your final year of education but first school year at Hogwarts after having transferred from Ilvermorny. 

You turned your head to look behind yourself, seeing your mom chatting animatedly with her friend who you know to be Mrs. Berkshire. You remembered her obscurely from the summers she would spend in America when you were younger, bringing along her son– Lorenzo.

Lorenzo was walking beside his mother, casually eating his ice cream without a care in the world. You used to spend time with him as kids in the summer, but it had been about 5 years and you definitely had suspicions about his newfound personality. Despite your mother's insistence on you rekindling your friendship with the seemingly sweet Lorenzo, you spent most of the afternoon purposefully walking ahead of him or trailing slowly behind him. Stopping at a trashcan to wipe your hands with a tissue and throw away the remainder of your ice cream cone, you’re startled when your mother suddenly speaks to you. 

“Got everything you need?” She asks, placing a hand on your back. Regaining your breath, you turned to her, wiping off a bit of sweat on your forehead. 

“Yeah, mom, scared me. Can we go now? It’s terrible out here,” you complained, squinting at the sun. You looked around the bustling environment of Diagon Alley and saw Lorenzo staring at you from the corner of your eye. He stood there, tall and handsome, the sun hitting him in all the right ways. You shut your eyes for a second before opening them back up at your mom in an attempt to distract yourselves from his appearance. 

“Mhm, we’re going to stop by the Leaky Cauldron first though, Lorenzo’s hungry,” she told you. Noticing the hesitant nod you gave her, she added, “Y/n.. you guys used to be such great little friends, why don’t you sit beside him once we sit down to eat?” A slight frown formed on your face as you mumbled a small sure and began to walk towards the Leaky Cauldron with your mom, Lorenzo and his mother following behind. 

As the four of you entered the pub, your mother sat beside Lorenzo’s, giving you a knowing smile. You dubiously took the seat beside Lorenzo, averting your gaze, determined to stare at your mother’s eyebrows and zone out. You’re brought back to reality as Mrs. Berkshire orders. “Three butterbeers and a, uh hot tea for me please,” she smiled at the waiter. The moment the waiter left, you realized it would be the most awkward wait ever, so you excused yourself.

“Just going to use the bathroom real quick.” 

You entered the small, dingy bathroom that was dimmed, noticing the lack of foot space. You looked in the mirror, dabbing off a bit of the extra sweat you had from outside off your chest with some toilet paper. You reached down to your low-rise jeans, fishing your lipgloss out of your pocket. Reapplying the lipgloss, you saw the door open behind you through the mirror and flinched, turning around immediately, hands behind you, resting on the sink. “Holy shit! Who the fuck..” you huffed out, holding your hand to your heart. “Lorenzo. Why would you–?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Mhm, coming into the bathroom unannounced; a sure way to lull someone into comfort,” you retorted. “Wh-what are you even doing here?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, staring at his face. 

“You know,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Just wanted to see why you were avoiding me.”

“Avoiding you?” you asked incredulously. “There’s no reason for me to avoid you,” you added defensively. “What, you thought I was too scared to talk to you this whole time?”

“Look, there’s no,” he scoffed. “--there’s no need to lie,” he grinned, stepping closer, and you could almost convince yourself that he gazed at the sweat glistening on your chest momentarily. “You don’t have to tell me, it’s fine.” You furrowed your brows from his change of heart and said nothing. “So,” he exhaled. “What have you been up to?"

“Nothing really… bit bummed I had to move, but it’s whatever now,” you shrugged, grateful for the change in direction. “You?” 

“Yeah same, nothing too. Why don’t you like it here?” Lorenzo asked. 

“Dunno… seems a bit boring here. Plus all the guys I’ve seen so far– they seem so immature. The amount of yelling I heard in Flourish and Blotts; insanity.,” you groaned. “They’re all just little boys to me honestly.” Your eyes darted around the bathroom, pursing your lips slightly. 

“Pfft, yeah. I get what you mean, some of them are horrible.”

“They were like you when you used to come over to America,” you teased, a small smile forming on your face. “A complete twit as you people call it.”

“Please,” he sighed. “I’m a man now.”

“Mmm, uh huh,” you nodded hesitantly. The mood somehow shifted, the air becoming palpable. “I’m sure you are.” You gave him half a smile, teasingly. To your surprise, Lorenzo stepped forward, taking one of your hands into both of his and looked into your eyes.

“Missed you.” He said that so casually, the words coming out of his mouth like he had been itching to say those words for an eternity. Taken aback by the change of tone, you paused for a few seconds before saying,

“I missed you too. You’re quite handsome now; did you know?"

Lorenzo placed a hand on your jaw, lightly rubbing it. “Y’think so? Cause you’re not so bad yourself.” Your lips parted slightly, but no sound came out of your mouth. His eyes darted around your face, from your eyes, to your lips, even to your flushing cheeks. 

“Lorenzo?” You asked, receiving a quiet hm from him in return. “What are you doing?” you asked, unable to contain a giddy grin. 

“I mean, I think I’m about to kiss you, but I’m not entirely sure,” he answered cheekily. 

“Oh, just do it you absolute twat,” you sighed.

 And that he did. Lorenzo met your lips with his own, his hand snaking around your back. The kisses, at first, were light, you guys pulling away every so often to catch your breaths before he started to kiss you sloppily with increased fervor.

His hands trailed from your back, one resting on your waist, the other reaching down to your ass. You let out a small gasp in surprise, biting your lips to suppress a moan as he reeled you closer to him, grasping at your ass. Pulling your lips away from his, forehead to forehead, he met your surprised look with a coy smile before grazing your swollen lips once more, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

As he pushed your back into the sink, you pulled away, both of your breathing ragged, some stray strands of hair sticking to your face. “Hey…” you exhaled out. “Don’t you think our moms are getting suspicious since we’re taking so long?” You gave him a dazed look, wiping off the excess lipgloss from his lips with your thumb.

“Nah, I told them I was going upstairs to see a friend who’s staying here,” he said, his body still yearning for your touch. 

“Well, what about me?” you questioned. ‘Wh-what will I say?” 

“Just say you blew up the toilet or something…” he teased, his face still tinged with a rosy hue. “I’m kidding, I’m very mature.”

You bit back a giggle, rolling your eyes. “You’re really not, you are making me enjoy my move much, much more.”

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[mochinomnoms]

If requests are open...👉👈

I was thinking of a scenario, you know how Yuu was isekai'd pretty late into the educational track (US High School/UK College kinda late), that's a lot of years of basic education that their missing. I can imagine them getting tutoring from say, Riddle, Azul or even Jamil (though if you can think of anyone else in this scenario, go nuts) and he just...kinda makes a comment about like, "How can you not know about The Chess Wars, Yuu? This is Primary School level stuff"! Or something and Yuu just...loses it on him. Kinda in a "Do you have ANY idea how smart I am to be keeping my head above water when Grims dragging it down, I've got YEARS of schooling to catch up on AND my job working for Crowly!? Let me ask you about any part of MY worlds history and see how smart you are"

Or something. This has been an idea in my head for a while and words are hard today...💦

(I write NRC a college/university level so that's how this will be written as)

“This is basic history! Really Prefect,” Ace never failed to make fun of you, and lately he'd been focusing in on your abysmal grades. “Even Juice knows about the Chess Wars! And he's skipped like, all of middle school!”

Deuce glared at Ace kicked him out from under the table, though Riddle actually seemed to agree with him.

“I do have to admit, Ace is correct. Prefect, even students like Ruggie and Epel know the basics, this is inexcusable of a student of Night Raven College!”

Riddle had his arms cross, tapping a finger on his arm impatiently as you looked off to the side with a blank expression. Grim was, to no one's surprise, asleep in their lap.

Of course, Grim's 'responsibility' were the magic based classes. The Prefect had, literally, everything else.

“…Well? What do you even have to say for yourself?” Riddle narrowed his eyes at them, huffing.

“.....Back home I was smart, you know.” It was a soft mumble, barely audible, which made Riddle angrier.

“Speak up! You're not a child, you can enunciate—”

“—I was smart, Riddle! I was really fucking smart!” A sudden bang of your fists on the table startled the other three and awoke Grim.

“W-w-wha—wha' happ—”

“I had my school paid for with academic scholarships! I was awarded on the Dean's List for being one of the best students at my old university! I bet if you came to my world, you'd have just as much trouble, maybe even more!”

You jabbed a finger at Riddle, growing louder and louder in your self-righteousness.

“You don't know about the world wars! You don't know about our ancient history and gods! You're great at alchemy, but I bet you'd be getting yelled at by my version of Crewel for not being able to recognize the periodic table! I mean, can you even understand my position? Or do you guys just like having someone to look down on to make yourselves feel better!”

At this point, your voice was echoing in the library, the steps of the librarian growing louder as he approached you.

“You know what? I don't want your help, I don't think I want to even be around you guys! Not if you're going to belittle me for being forcibly plucked from the only world I've ever known into your shitty own! Deuce, I meet me at my dorm if you get tired from being around two condescending asses!”

Before the librarian could kick you out, you'd grabbed your things and marched out, ignoring his chastising as you marched out of the building.

Riddle was, of course, incredibly red. Though, his lips were pursed in a way that made it unclear if it was from his usual rage, or from guilty embarrassment. Ace looked baffled, clicking his tongue and pouting.

“Geez, it was just a joke…you know it was, right Deuce?”

“I mean, I kinda get what they're saying…”

Few wanted to admit that they did get a bit of satisfaction in being 'smarter' than someone else, and that you were the easiest target for that. Plus, no one wanted to admit that they forgot that you came from another world. It was a reminder that you'd have to go back eventually.

Gossip from that conversation spread like wildfire among the student body. Riddle was, of course, embarrassed and giving a gentle talking to by Trey after hearing about it from Cater. Though, he wasn't nearly as gentle to Ace, who didn't have the grades to back up his talk. Deuce did his best to support you in his own way, which was mostly sharing the notes and feedback he'd gotten from Riddle, at least until you were back on speaking terms with him.

Some of the other students started approaching you after a little while. Offering you a spot in their own study group, letting you ask the 'stupid' questions without those extra snide comments, though some of them have to remind themselves to shut their mouths. It takes awhile for you to talk to Ace and Riddle again, but once you do and resume your study sessions, Riddle is softer and Ace just a bit kinder.

[jaeyunluvbot]

ceilings

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, college au, mark lee x fem!reader,

word count 𝟅𝟈 4.1k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You sit cross-legged on the couch in your dorm, a half-empty mug of coffee going cold on the table in front of you. Your laptop is open, the beginnings of a lesson plan appearing on the screen. Across the room, Mark is sprawled in your beanbag chair, a stack of notebooks and his own laptop scattered haphazardly around him.

“Remind me why you picked education again?” he teases, spinning a pen between his fingers.

“Because I like helping people,” you say without looking up. “Unlike you, who’s clearly just here to take up space.”

Mark laughs, the sound comforting and familiar. “Yikes. I’m just saying, you’ve been staring at that screen for, like, two hours. Are you actually working, or just writing your name in different fonts?”

You roll your eyes, finally glancing over at him. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of slacking off, Mr. Communications Major.”

“Hey, excuse you,” Mark says, sitting up a little. “I’m a communications major with a business minor. Very serious stuff.”

“Right,” you deadpan. “I’m sure the world is just desperate for your next paper on influencer marketing.”

He grins, leaning back again. “You know it.”

The conversation feels like a warm blanket, familiar and comforting. You’ve been best friends with Mark since third grade, and moments like this remind you why. No matter what life throws your way, he’s always been there—ready with a joke, a smile, or a friday-night movie marathon.

Still, lately, things have felt off… different. You hesitate, tapping your fingers on the edge of your laptop.

“Mark?”

“Hmm?” he says, not looking up from the YouTube video he’s somehow roped into his “studying.”

“You know Jaemin, right? From my educational psych class?”

Mark pauses the video, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah, I know him. Why?”

“Well…” you trail off, suddenly not sure if you should tell him. “He asked me out yesterday.”

Mark doesn’t react immediately, his face carefully neutral. “Oh. What’d you say?”

“I said yes.”

Mark’s jaw tightens imperceptibly before he nods, forcing a smile. “That’s cool. Jaemin’s… cool.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, a little too quickly. “He’s nice. And, you know, he’s on the soccer team. Everyone loves a soccer guy.”

You tilt your head, watching him cautiously. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” Mark argues, shifting his position to cover his fidgeting. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really, I am.”

You squint at him, unconvinced, but let it go. “Cool.”

The rest of the evening passes in a strange kind of silence. Mark cracks a few jokes here and there, but the usual ease between you feels just a little strained.

Later that night, as you lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the soft whirring of your fan lulling you into a tired state, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted. But what—and why—you can’t quite figure out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A month later, you and Mark find yourselves in your favorite spot off-campus, a cozy little café that’s been your special place since freshman year. You’re sitting by the window, sipping a caramel latte and doodling on a napkin while Mark devours a bagel like it’s his last meal.

“I’m just saying,” he says between bites, crumbs and seeds scattering all over the table, “professors shouldn’t assign group projects if they know people like Yuta exist.”

“Not this again,” you groan, half-laughing. “What did he do this time?”

“What didn’t he do?” Mark gestures dramatically. “He wrote a single sentence and called it his ‘contribution.’ I’m carrying this guy through college, Y/N.”

“Maybe he’s just shy,” you suggest, smiling at your best friend’s complaints.

Mark shakes his head, pointing at you with a crumb-covered finger. “No, no. Shy people at least pretend to help. Yuta just disappears.”

You laugh, the sound bright against the low hum of the café. Moments like this remind you why Mark is your favorite person.

Which makes your next suggestion seem obvious—at least to you.

“You know,” you say, swirling your spoon in your cup, “you should hang out with Jaemin.”

Mark freezes mid-chew, his eyes widening slightly. “What?”

“You and Jaemin,” you repeat. “I feel like you’d get along. You’re both funny and laid-back, and you like soccer.”

“I don’t like soccer,” Mark says flatly.

“You played soccer in high school,” you counter.

“Because my mom made me,” he argues, setting his muffin down. “And no offense, but I don’t think me and Jaemin would get along.”

“How do you know?” you challenge, leaning forward. “You’ve never hung out with him. He’s really nice, Mark.”

Mark’s expression shifts, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “I’m sure he is,” he says carefully. “But… why are you so set on this?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” you say simply. “And he’s… my boyfriend. It would just be nice if you guys were friends, too.”

Mark looks at you for a long moment, his jaw tightening slightly before he nods. “Okay,” he says finally. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll hang out with him.”

You beam, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Mark. It means a lot.”

He forces a smile, but as he takes another bite of his muffin, you notice the way his shoulders tense.

And for the second time that week, you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Mark adjusts his hoodie for the third time as he steps into the campus rec center, wondering how mad you’d be if he flaked on Jaemin. He spots him right away, standing by the basketball court with a bright smile on his face, spinning a ball on his finger effortlessly.

“Mark!” Jaemin calls, waving enthusiastically.

Mark forces a grin and waves back, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approaches.

“Hey,” he says.

“Glad you made it,” Jaemin says, tossing the ball to him. “You play, right?”

“Uh, not really,” Mark admits, catching the ball awkwardly.

Jaemin chuckles, his tone warm and friendly. “No worries. We’ll just shoot around. Nothing serious.”

They step onto the court, and Jaemin immediately starts talking, filling the space with his easy energy. He’s exactly how Y/N described—friendly, funny, and genuinely likable.

“So, Y/N told me you guys have been friends forever,” Jaemin says, making a shot effortlessly.

“Yeah,” Mark replies, dribbling the ball and taking a shot. It bounces off the backboard, and he winces. “We grew up together.”

“That’s awesome,” Jaemin says, running after the ball. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friendship like that. She talks about you all the time, you know.”

Mark swallows hard, his throat tightening at the thought. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jaemin continues, passing the ball back to him. “She says you’re, like, the best person she knows. Always there for her.”

Mark forces a smile, the comment accentuating the already heavy weight on his chest. “She’s pretty great herself,” he says, taking another shot. This one goes in, and Jaemin claps excitedly.

“She really is.” Jaemin says, smiling softly.

As they continue playing, Mark starts to feel a strange mix of guilt and admiration. Jaemin is genuinely a good guy—there’s no doubt about it, and he obviously cares about Y/N. But every time Jaemin mentions her, Mark feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“So,” Jaemin says after a while of playing, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. “What do you think of me?”

Mark nearly chokes on his water. “What?”

“Come on,” Jaemin says, laughing. “I know you probably weren’t super excited about this. Y/N might’ve had to twist your arm a bit. So, what’s the verdict?”

Mark hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “You’re… a good guy,” he says finally.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow, grinning. “That’s it?”

Mark shrugs, forcing his hands to stay placed firmly on the ball, needing something to ground himself before he shouts his feelings to the world. “Y/N thinks so, and she’s usually right about people.”

Jaemin chuckles, his expression softening. “She’s something else, huh?”

Mark nods, his throat tightening again. “Yeah. She is.”

Jaemin leans back against the wall, tossing the ball between his hands. “I don’t know what I did to deserve her, honestly. She’s just… amazing.”

Mark doesn’t respond, forcing a smile, his chest aching at how easily Jaemin says the words Mark’s been too afraid to even think about out loud.

“Anyway,” Jaemin says, breaking the silence. “Thanks for hanging out. I know you probably had better things to do.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Mark replies, his voice quieter now.

As they step back onto the court to finish their game, Mark tries to focus on the sound of the ball hitting the floor, anything to distract himself from the guilt gnawing at him. Jaemin is exactly as Y/N said—perfect. And yet, Mark can’t shake the heavy, unspoken truth weighing on his chest.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The Friday after Mark and Jaemin’s basketball game, Mark sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone while you organized your notes at the dining table. It was a typical evening—quiet and uneventful—but something felt off. Mark had been acting strange ever since his hangout with Jaemin, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was lying to you about something.

“Hey,” you called, your voice cutting through the silence. “You’ve been weird lately. Is something wrong?”

Mark didn’t even glance up. “I’m fine,” he said curtly.

You frowned but decided not to push. Instead, you tried to lighten the mood. “So, Jaemin was telling me about this soccer game next weekend, maybe all three of us could —”

“Do you talk about anything but Jaemin?” Mark snapped, his voice slicing through you sentence like a blade.

You froze, staring at him in confusion. “What?”

“You’re always talking about him,” Mark continued, setting his phone down with more force than necessary. “Jaemin this, Jaemin that. Do you even realize how much you talk about him?”

Your confusion quickly turned to anger. “Mark, what’s your problem? You’re the one who’s been acting all weird, and now you’re getting mad at me for talking about my boyfriend?”

Mark stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Forget it. Just forget I said anything.”

“No,” you shot back, standing too. “You don’t get to yell at me and then walk away. What’s going on with you?”

“I said forget it, Y/N!” Mark shouted, his voice louder than you'd ever heard it before.

You took a step back, a pang hurt flashing across your face. “Fine. If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t.”

For a moment, Mark’s expression softened, guilt and regret flickering in his eyes. But he quickly hardened again, grabbing his jacket. “You know what? I won’t.” Without another word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

You stood frozen in place, your chest tight and tears pricking your eyes. You'd argued before, sure, but this time felt different—more real. You sank onto the couch, mind racing with questions you didn’t have answers to.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

During the days following the argument, you tried to go about life as normal, but Mark’s absence hung over you like a dark cloud. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. Jaemin was the first to notice.

The two of you were sitting on a park bench after grabbing coffee, the late afternoon sun casting warm light over the pond in front of them. Your barely touched your drink, gaze distant as you stared at the ducks paddling by.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Jaemin said gently, voice soft, as if he was afraid of what he was about to say.

“I’m fine,” you replied automatically, though your voice lacked any sense of genuineness.

Jaemin tilted his head, studying you with a soft, understanding look. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping. “Mark and I had a fight. He’s been acting so weird, and I don’t know why. It’s like he’s mad at me for something, but he won’t tell me what.”

Jaemin hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you don’t have feelings for Mark?”

Your head snapped up, your eyes wide in surprise, looking at her boyfriend, shocked. “What? No. Of course I don’t. He’s my best friend.”

Jaemin didn’t say anything right away, his gaze steady but kind. “Listen,” he began carefully, “you’re a great girl. Really. But... I think you might care about him more than you realize.”

You shook your head, a pit of dread bubbling in your stomach. “Jaemin, I—I like you. I do.”

“I know,” he said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But not the way you like him. And that’s okay.”

Tears stung your eyes as guilt washed over you. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do this to you,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” Jaemin said, placing a reassuring hand over yours. “You can’t help how you feel. And honestly? I think you should talk to him. Figure it out.”

You sniffled, giving him a small, watery smile. “You’re too nice, you know that?”

Jaemin laughed, leaning back against the bench. “I know.”

Despite the weight of their conversation, you felt a strange sense of clarity. You didn’t know what you were going to say to Mark, but for the first time, you knew you had to try.

You left the park bench with a renewed sense of purpose and a goal, to talk to Mark.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Jaemin was lying on your bed, legs stretched out as you paced back and forth. You had been trying to contact Mark for days—texts, calls, voicemails—but every attempt was met with silence. And it was driving you crazy.

“I don’t get it,” you mumbled, frustration and sadness evident in your voice. “He’s never acted like this before. We’ve argued before and we always made up, but now... now he’s avoiding me like I’m some kind of plague.”

Jaemin watched you, a quiet understanding in his gaze. He could tell how much it was bothering you, even though you were trying your very best to hide it.

“You’re not giving up, are you?” Jaemin asked, leaning forward slightly.

You stopped mid-pace, looking at him with a mixture of exhaustion and annoyance. “I don’t have a choice, Jaemin. He clearly doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe I messed up, maybe I pushed him too far, but he’s not responding.”

Jaemin shook his head, his smile soft but firm. “Don’t give up on him, Y/N. You love him, and he clearly feels something similar for you. Maybe he just needs a little push.”

You sigh, sitting down beside him on the bed. “I just don’t know what else to do. It’s not like I haven’t tried.”

Jaemin paused for a second, a glint of mischief creeping into his eyes. “Well, what if I told you I had a plan to make him face you?”

You raise an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “What?”

He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “I do. But you’re gonna have to trust me on this one.”

You frowned but nodded, trusting Jaemin more than anyone else. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

Jaemin leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper as he began to lay out the details of his plan. He knew it was a little underhanded, but if it meant fixing things with Mark and you, he was willing to take the risk.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few days later, Mark was hanging out with his friends Haechan and Chenle at their usual café. He had been avoiding you, and it wasn’t because he wanted to. The guilt gnawed at him every time he saw your name pop up on his phone, but he didn’t know how to fix things. Every time he thought about talking to you, he freaked out, not knowing if he could handle being rejected by you.

“Man, you’ve been really quiet lately,” Haechan said, nudging Mark’s shoulder. “What’s up with you?”

Mark shrugged, not meeting either of their gazes. “Just… tired, I guess.”

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Tired? Dude, you’re literally doing nothing. Just hiding out at home all day.”

“Yeah,” Haechan added, “and avoiding Y/N. Come on, what’s going on between you two?”

Mark stiffened, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of your name. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his phone buzzed. A new message from Jaemin.

Hey, man. I need you to do me a favor.

Mark hesitated for a moment before replying, his fingers hovering over the keys. What’s up?

I need you to meet me at the park in 30 minutes. Trust me, it’s important.

Mark frowned, sensing something was off, but he couldn’t figure out what. Okay, fine. I’ll be there.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket, barely noticing Haechan and Chenle’s knowing smiles.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

When Mark arrived at the park, he found Jaemin leaning against a bench, looking unusually serious.

“Why’d you need me to meet you?” Mark asked, crossing his arms and trying to hide his nervousness.

Jaemin smiled mischievously for a split second, but then he stood up straighter, his tone firm. “I’m going to help you fix things with Y/N.”

Mark blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Jaemin exhaled deeply, looking Mark in the eye. “Y/N’s been acting weird. Because you’re avoiding her. And I get it, man. I really do. But you’re hurting her by not talking to her. And she doesn’t deserve that.”

Mark felt a pang in his chest, guilt flooding his mind. “I know, but it’s complicated…”

“Complicated or not,” Jaemin interrupted, “you can’t just leave things like this. You’re her best friend, Mark. You mean everything to her.”

Mark’s throat tightened, his hands trembling slightly. “Why do you care? She’s your girlfriend.”

Jaemin’s expression hardened slightly. “Actually, she’s not. You’d know that if you answered her calls.”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “What?”

Jaemin sighed, “Listen man, I like her, I do, but she doesn’t feel the same. We broke up. And now I’ve been trying to help her contact you. You’re hurting her a lot by ignoring her like this.”

Mark groaned, feeling a sense of disbelief that your ex-boyfriend was currently trying to convince him to confess his feelings to you.

Jaemin ignores the clear shock on Mark’s face, pulling out his phone and smirking. “I’ve been talking to Haechan and Chenle. They’re on board with this. We’ve already arranged it. You two are meeting up, whether you like it or not.”

Mark’s eyes widened as he realized Jaemin had masterminded the whole thing. “You… you told them?”

Jaemin gave him a pointed look. “I did. And you’re gonna thank me later.”

Before Mark could protest any further, he heard your voice from behind him. “I’m here.”

Mark turned around, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw you standing there, looking as nervous as he felt.

Jaemin stepped back, a sly grin on his face. “You two figure it out. I’ll leave you to it.”

As Jaemin walked away, Mark stood there, unsure of how to approach the situation. He wanted to run, but Jaemin’s words echoed in his head: You can’t just leave things like this.

You looked at him, eyes filled with uncertainty, and Mark’s heart sank seeing your disheveled state. He had to fix this. And he was going to try, no matter how scared he was.

Mark stood frozen for a moment, staring at you as you approached. His heart hammered in his chest, and all he could think was how easy it would be to turn around and walk away. To just disappear before this moment could get any more uncomfortable. But as much as he wanted to run, he couldn’t. Not when you had been so patient, so understanding—he owed you this conversation.

“Mark,” You called out softly, your voice hesitant but steady.

He exhaled, pushing the thought of escape aside, and turned to face you. You looked just as uncertain as he felt, and it made the guilt rise within him all over again.

You silently walked to a nearby bench, and Mark sat down first, his hands gripping the edge of the seat as if it could anchor him to reality. You sat beside him, her posture stiff, like you were preparing for some awful outcome.

After a long pause, you broke the silence. “Why have you been avoiding me?” you asked, voice a little softer than he expected, clearly you were nervous.

Mark felt his stomach drop, a wave of regret crashing over him. “Y/N, I…” He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I said that. I just… I was confused. I’ve been confused for a while.”

You frowned, clearly still unsure of where this was going. “Confused about what?”

“I—” He cut himself off, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship, but there was no other way around it. “I’ve been in love with you, Y/N. For a long time now. And I didn’t know how to deal with it. So, I tried to ignore it.”

Your breath hitched, and you turned your head to look at him, your wide eyes betraying her mask of calmness. “What?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” he continued, voice thick with anxiety. “I was afraid that if I told you, you’d never want to talk to me again. And I’ve… I’ve been avoiding you ever since, because I thought if I just stayed away, it would be easier.”

You shook your head slowly, eyes glistening as you processed his words. “Mark… you’re my best friend. You should have told me.”

“I know. I should have,” he muttered, feeling even more ashamed. “I messed up. And then I lashed out at you, and that was stupid.”

You sigh deeply, and then, surprisingly, smile softly at him. “It’s okay, Mark. I get it now. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it, but I was just too scared to admit how I felt.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you continued, your voice trembling a little, “I’m in love with you, too. I just didn’t want to mess things up, either. I didn’t want to lose our friendship.”

Mark’s heart skipped a beat. He blinked at you, his mind racing to process your confession. “You… you love me?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. I’m sorry I acted the way I did and I’m sorry for always bringing up Jaemin around you, I just—”

Mark could feel the weight of it all crashing down on him. His chest tightened, and the guilt that had been gnawing at him for weeks was replaced by a rush of clarity. He couldn’t let this moment slip away, not after everything the two of you had been through.

Before you could say another word, Mark reached out, cupping your face gently with his hand. He leaned in and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with a softness that made your heart race.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you pulled back slightly, voice shaky. “Oh my god.”

Mark chuckled softly, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

You blinked, still processing everything. “I… I didn’t expect that.”

Mark smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it either. But I guess it was time for me to stop being an idiot.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re not an idiot, Mark. You’re just… well, maybe a little bit. But I’m glad we’re talking about this now.”

He nodded, his smile growing wider. “Me too. And, uh, I guess we can’t just go back to how things were, right?”

You grinned, your eyes twinkling. “Yeah, I don’t think we can. But I’m okay with that.”

Mark took a deep breath, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “So, what now?”

You thought for a moment before shrugging. “I think we should just… figure it out. We already know each other so well, so maybe it’ll be easy.”

Mark grinned, feeling a warmth spread through him. “Yeah, I think we can make it work.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 omg another fic we cheered. thank u to the like 20 people who like my writing i really appreciate it. lmk if you have any requests pls

masterlist.

[nicromancytarot]

WHO IS COMING INTO YOUR LIFE ROMANTICALLY?

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what you need to know about the next person who is coming into your life romantically, pick a pile and find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

This person is embodying the energy of the king of cups, they are giving off much more masculine energy, this doesn’t mean that they are a guy, however this person is more in tune with their masculine, leadership side. When you meet this person, they will be going with the flow, allowing life to take them wherever, and coincidentally they will find you.

I am getting the feeling that this person is new to most, if not all of you. So I’m not seeing any exes or reconciliations in this pile.

This person seems to have been going through something which led them astray or possibly ended in them getting hurt, for some this may have been a breakup.

Around the time that the two of you meet, they’re going to act like a taster for you, they’ll give you these little moments with them, which leave you waiting for more, yearning for them to allow you in some more, but you only receive a drip, a dribble of what they could actually give you.

They’ll keep this going on for a while, keeping you interested and guessing, during this time they may have you lined up as an accomplishment or trophy, they may still have feelings for an ex, and have you as a second option.

It will take a while to get out of the situationship and bring yourselves to something more committed and long term, honestly I’m seeing around 6-8 months of no label.

All while it can absolutely end well, it can give you what you desperately want in a relationship, the agony and anticipation may turn to be too much for you.

For those of you who choose to walk away from this without letting it grow or become anything more, you are making a good decision, you’re embodying the queen of wands energy, you don’t need anyone to define you or make you any more worthy than you already are.

For those of who choose to stay, be careful of your heart, make sure to protect your dignity and don’t let this person get you down, you can build something beautiful with a lot of patience and determination, however you are always ok to walk away.

PILE 2

A lot of you are getting over something at the moment, I’m unfortunately getting an ex, someone from your past who I’m not too sure that you received closure from when you last saw or spoke to them.

I do see this ex coming back into your life, if they come back during mercury retrograde, dawg bin them, we are in no need of negativity during this time! However, for those who do not come back during this current moment, either you will contact them, or they will contact you. I do see that a lot of you have some stuff to talk out with this past person.

The closure conversation won’t exactly go to plan, you may be sucked in by their drama, trauma dumping or a poor attempt to get you back. I do feel as though you will entertain this situation for a little, perhaps not too long, but long enough for some emotions and feelings to arise again.

However on the other side of things, you have someone completely new, someone who is willing to give you things that this past person wasn’t able to supply for you. This person is coming in hot and heavy, they will be very direct about what they want with you.

I feel like you’ve always been the one to make the first move, or admit your feelings, this person will turn your life on it’s head, they will be honest, direct, real and just very straightforward about what they desire.

They may say something along the lines of not wanting to be with you until you’re over your ex, this could be a drunken confession where you try to tell them that you are, and they tell you you’re not. It will either end up with you crying into their hands as they cradle your head, or some hot and heavy make out session lmao.

This person is willing to wait for you, they will be on the sidelines for as long as you need them to be. It doesn’t seem like they will be letting go easily.

The ex person is giving me twin flame vibes, meanwhile the new person is a soulmate.

So it’s either out with the old and in with the new, or out with the new and back to the old.

The choice is yours.

PILE 3

You guys seem to have gone through some type of break up as well lmao, something which forced you to let go of someone that you cared a lot about. If it’s not a relationship, then it’s a situation that had you up at night upset and stressing.

During this time there was this one person that you would confide in, this person was there to rub your back while you cried, and tell you that everything was ok.

They watched you through your healing journey, helping you become one with yourself and your expression once again, help you build yourself up until you felt comfortable in your own skin. This person is a people watcher, especially when it comes to you, they’re observing to the point of writing down every little thing about you, you could ask this person the colour of your eyes, or how many freckles are on your face and they would be able to answer without a second glance. They know you like they know themself.

This person may call you their flower or petal, you may have a flower relating name, something to do with how delicately they view you, you’re like a piece of china to them, one wrong touch and you’d break. They don’t want to break you.

They metaphorically stand by your bedside as you sleep, protecting you from every scary dream, or any unwanted negativity that could come your way, they want nothing more than to protect you and keep your safe, it’s their purpose.

You are Barbie, and they are just Ken. (No gender affirmed)

This person will wait for the right time before making their move, and when they do, they will resume leadership and continue to look after you for as long as you allow them to.

This person will love you like you have never been loved before, they will caress every inch of your skin as though you were sculpted by the Gods, they want nothing more than for you to be theirs, and them to resume being yours.

Because they will always be yours.

[fibro-memes]

Frustrated.

How is it that I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in Nov 2008, and now 16 1/2 years later, healthcare hasn't improved?! Why are people still fighting to be believed and diagnosed?! Why are so many doctors uneducated (or barely educated) about Fibro?!

As I watch my best friend go through it now, it makes me frustrated. It makes me downright angry. I just don't understand it.

How is that we almost had more awareness back then? I can remember when Cymbalta, Lyrica, and Savella were all FDA approved and we all felt a sigh of relief. They were at least trying to help us, even if those meds didn't help all of us. I can remember Niagara Falls turning purple on Fibromyalgia Awareness Day. We had more hope.

Somehow, more people are diagnosed now than ever before, but research and awareness are at an all time low. And I'm angry. I really am.

I am angry and sad for all of you still fighting to be believed and diagnosed. And I am angry and sad for all of us who need better treatment options.

I know this isn't my usual inspirational post, and I'm sorry. But I needed to vent. And I knew you all would understand. 💜

Please take care of yourselves and always advocate for yourselves. It is important because you are! 💜

[sh1-n0bu]

i fucking knew americans were dumb

edit: i have found out thru tiktok that books such as ‘great gatsby’ ‘handmaidens tale’ ‘to kill a mockingbird’ ‘lord of the flies’ and such are going to be banned in the us and the white house is demanding a recount/revote. those of you who are in usa, do what you can do, stock up on your medications if you can, engage in community that you’re a part of, create a safe space for yourself and those you know. learn about legal issues and ways to protect yourself if the project 2025 does end up happening, educate yourselves on legal rights and your human basic rights and which law protects it in which way. this may have disappeared in the tags but if you support trump or have voted for that thing get THE FUCK off of my blog

second edit: those of you who gave your votes thru an email or online voting, CHECK YOUR EMAIL AND MAKE SURE YOUR EMAIL IS TRACEABLE. there has been news of emails being unable to be found, identified or traced back to yourself. check and check again. if there are any issues, file a complaint

[perfectsunlight]

( 𝟯𝟵 ) ✏ goodnight

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

minjeong had been to hundreds of important dinners. her father took her on his business trips often, allowing her to be well educated in table manners and etiquette.

but she knew this wasn’t just any important dinner, it was dinner with your sister.

she was more nervous for this than her upcoming finals.

however, dinner went better than minjeong had anticipated. after all, she had been practicing what to say and do in the car on her way over to your house anyway. but even besides her preparation, your sister made her feel right at home at the table.

but nothing prepared her for how beautiful you looked all dressed up. sure, you showed up to every tutoring session overdressed. however, she had never seen you dolled up to this extent. every time her gaze landed on you, her heartbeat stuttered and she found herself struggling to focus on the food in front of her.

“your top, it’s chanel, right?” jennie asked with a small smile as she tilted her head to the side, subtly raising her eyebrows at your tutor. minjeong knew without a shadow of a doubt that jennie had caught her staring at you. the blonde glanced down at her shirt before looking up and nodding. “yes, it is. i believe my mother got it for me a while ago.” the idol hummed in response before chuckling. “did y/n ever tell you what happened to the first chanel bag i got her?” immediately, your face turned red and you glared at your sister from across the table. “hey!” 

the president’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked between you and jennie. “no, she hasn't. what happened?”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. your sister was embarrassing you on purpose in front of the girl you were head over heels for. “jennie, please don’t.”

your older sister ignored your plea, her smile widening. “so, i bought her this beautiful one of one chanel bag for her birthday. she was so excited and loved it so much that she insisted on taking it everywhere. but one day we were out at some korean barbecue place in new york and she accidentally dropped it on top of the side dishes.”

minjeong’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. “oh, that’s not good. what happened then?”

jennie laughed, shaking her head. “she was mortified and the bag was covered in sauce and kimchi juice. we had to get it professionally cleaned overseas, and that was a whole other ordeal. but she learned her lesson about taking expensive bags to restaurants.”

you peeked out from behind your hands, face still flushed. “i was just excited, okay? and i was trying to be careful.”

the blonde turned to look at you with amusement in her eyes. “is that why you make me carry your bag when we go out to eat?”

you laughed, feeling the initial embarrassment melt away. “maybe.” 

minjeong chuckled, shaking her head. “well, you’re lucky i don’t mind.”

your heart fluttered at her words, and you smiled back, unaware of your sister’s smile forming at the sight of you two.

the rest of the evening passed in a comfortable haze, the three of you watching a movie together. jennie eventually excused herself to get some rest, leaving you and minjeong alone. not before she told you two to “behave yourselves.”

the living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the tv screen, casting a soft glow over minjeong’s features. and just like in the car, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring how beautiful she was.

after a while, minjeong broke the silence, snapping you out of your gaze. 

“i’ve noticed how hard you’ve been working. i’m proud of you, y/n. i know you’re going to do great on your finals.”

your chest swelled with gratitude and affection. all your efforts had made a difference in your grades, but you knew that your finals would make or break you. to hear such words of affirmation from the girl who had helped you made you feel entirely more grateful.

“thank you. that means a lot coming from you.”

the blonde’s eyes wandered from the screen to meet yours. there was something different about the way she looked at you. it was a look of admiration, mixed with something deeper, something that made your heart race. 

“stay.” you whispered, the words coming out before you could stop them. minjeong’s eyes widened slightly, a visible blush creeping up her cheeks, even in the dark. “stay?” she repeated, her voice barely audible.

you nodded, gathering your courage. “yes, stay. here.with me. please.” the glow of the tv screen danced shadows across both of your faces. “i’ve already moved out of the apartment on campus because finals are this week and i don’t want you to leave.”

the president couldn’t say no to the honesty in your voice, or the way you looked at her. then again, she didn’t think she could say no to you ever. 

“okay.” she whispered with a small nod. “i’ll stay.”

“thank you,” you breathed, feeling a surge of warmth towards her.

minjeong returned your smile, though a hint of shyness colored her expression. you gestured towards the stairs. “come with me.” the invitation was soft yet inviting, and the blonde knew you were not asking out of lust.

nodding slightly, the blonde followed you to your room. the air was charged with a newfound tension, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. once inside, she closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the silence.

minjeong glanced around the room, her eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. your room was fairly large, and definitely had your touch. despite the darkness outside, the room felt cozy and inviting.

the walls were painted in a soft shade of white that reflected the gentle illumination, giving the room a soothing ambiance. large windows with open shutters allowed moonlight to filter in, casting ethereal shadows on the plush white carpet that covered the floor, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

against one wall, a queen-sized bed took center stage, dressed in luxurious white linens adorned with a subtle pink floral pattern. the pillows and duvet were arranged meticulously, and minjeong felt comfortable just looking at them. above the bed, a white canopy hung elegantly, swaying gently in the night breeze that filtered through the slightly open window.

on each side of the bed, a sleek white nightstand held a softly glowing lamp with a blush pink lampshade, casting a soft, warm light that illuminated the delicate features of the room. a small stack of books and a delicate vase of pale pink roses added a touch of elegance and serenity to the bedside decor.

across from the bed, a comfortable nook was decorated with an armchair upholstered in pale pink velvet, adorned with a fluffy throw blanket that spilled over the armrest. there was an acoustic guitar along with an electric keyboard. next to the instruments was a record player and white bookshelf that held several vinyl records inside of it.

she never would’ve taken you for a music enthusiast, but given who your sister was, it wasn’t too surprising.

near the window was where your desk stood, its surface adorned with a few personal items and a softly glowing pink himalayan salt lamp that emitted a soothing ambiance. above the desk, a gallery of framed art in shades of pink and white added a personal touch and a hint of sophistication to the tranquil space.

however, there was one photo that caught her eye – it was you and your sister. 

the blonde gently lifted the frame, studying the photograph with a soft smile. she admired the way your eyes crinkled at the corners, mirroring the joy reflected in your sister’s expression. you looked way younger, but it was clear from the photo how much your sister meant to you. it was still evident, even now.

it reminded her of how she once was with her brother.

as minjeong set the frame back down, her gaze drifted back to you, who stood nearby, watching her quietly with a soft smile playing on your lips. your hands were tucked behind your back, hiding something from her view.

“i have something for you,” you said gently, your voice carrying a hint of excitement as you brought your hands forward, revealing a pair of hello kitty pajama pants. “i accidentally ordered two, so we can wear these and match.”

amusement settled onto the blonde’s features as she took the spare pair from you with a small smile. “they’re definitely more your style, but i think they’re cute.” she said before she held them up for a better look, the soft fabric swaying slightly in her hands.

you grinned, feeling a rush of warmth at her acceptance. “you can rock them too, don’t worry. let’s change and get comfy.” you replied as you motioned towards the bathroom that was connected to your room. “the bathroom is there.”

minjeong nodded, and the two of you quickly changed into the matching pajamas. the president hated to admit it, but she did like the pants. as she settled back on the edge of your bed, she couldn’t help herself but stare at you while you brushed your hair at your vanity.

your hair fell over your shoulder in ways the blonde could swear were perfect. the way you, usually overdressed and complaining about the weather affecting your hair or your skin, could look so beautiful in hello kitty pajamas and slippers.

“i feel like i’m at a sleepover,” minjeong remarked with a chuckle, looking down at the adorable pattern on her pants. “well, it is our sleepover,” you replied, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “now,” you rose from your chair and grabbed her hand to pull you towards the bathroom. “it’s skin care time.”

minjeong followed you, a smile tugging at her lips. “skincare time, huh? when is bedtime?”

you grinned and gave her a playful eye roll as you replied to her over your shoulder. “soon. it’s barely 11.”

“you do know i’m usually asleep by 10, right?” the blonde replied, but you ignored her comment and gently pinched her hand. “consider this your night of indulgence,” you teased, leading her into the bathroom. 

minjeong chuckled, shaking her head slightly but clearly enjoying herself. “alright, alright. i trust you won’t give me chemical burns or something.”

in the bathroom, you laid out a variety of products, explaining each one to minjeong with enthusiasm. she listened attentively, clearly intrigued by your routine.

at least, she was trying to pay attention, but it was hard to do so when you were so close to her face.

minjeong’s eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your gaze again. there was a playful, yet tender look in her eyes that made your heart race. “okay, i’m ready,” she said softly.

you gently applied the cleanser to her face, your fingers grazing her skin with a light touch. “see, it’s not so bad,” you said with a smile.

the other girl closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the sensation. “you’re right, it feels nice. feels expensive.”

“jennie got it for me, so i'd definitely bet on it being more than expensive.” you chuckled while the blonde took another subtle glance at your lips.

as you moved on to the next step, you found yourself leaning in even closer, your focus entirely on her. the room was filled with the soft scent of the products and the quiet sounds of your movements. when you applied the toner, you felt her shiver slightly under your touch.

“cold?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“a little,” she admitted, her eyes opening to meet yours. “but it’s okay.”

you continued with the moisturizer, your fingers gently massaging it into her skin. minjeong’s eyes fluttered closed again, a content smile playing on her lips. the intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on either of you.

once you finished, you stepped back to admire your work. “there, all done. how do you feel?”

minjeong opened her eyes, her gaze soft and appreciative. “amazing. thank you, y/n.”

you blushed under her intense stare, your heart pounding in your chest. “you’re welcome, minjeong.”

“do you want to sleep with me?” you asked on your way out of the bathroom. the blonde’s eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped slightly. “what?” she stuttered out, the sound causing you to turn around in confusion.

however, you quickly realized how you had worded your words.

“oh!” you exclaimed, “i meant like do you want to sleep here in my room or the guest room.” you rambled quickly, trying to explain yourself.

the president chuckled softly, a playful glint in her eyes. “oh, right. here is fine,” she replied with a warm smile, following you into the room. “as long as your sister won’t kill me in the morning.”

you chuckled, relieved that she took your clumsy phrasing in stride. “jennie won’t mind. she trusts you more than she trusts me.”

as you both settled onto the bed, there was comfortable silence that lingered between the two of you. however, you broke that silence after a few moments.

“i’m worried about finals.” you said in a voice barely above a whisper, eyes glued to the canopy above you. you had three final exams, which were all on friday, the last day of school. the blonde girl slowly turned her head to stare at your side profile, concern in both her irises and her heart. “you’ll do great, i know you will. i’ll help you get ready for them, too.”

your heart warmed at her supportive words, and you turned to face her, grateful for the reassuring presence beside you. “thank you, minjeong,” you replied sincerely, a small smile playing on your lips. “i appreciate that.”

she reached out and gently took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently while her heart raced against her chest. “i’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

“but what about your finals?” you protested slightly, worried that the other girl would be too caught up in helping you that she would have no time to study for her own exams.

minjeong smiled reassuringly, her thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “don’t worry about me. i’ve been studying since last week, and i’ll manage my time. besides,” she added with a gentle smile that reached her eyes, “helping you is just as important to me.”

you felt a surge of gratitude mixed with a touch of guilt. she had helped you so much this semester, and yet here she was, still willing to help you during the most important time.

“thank you,” you murmured sincerely, squeezing her hand in return. “i really appreciate it.”

her smile softened, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “i want you to succeed, y/n. and i know you will.” the blonde hushed as she gently pulled you into her arms, the scent of your lotion and shampoo filling her senses.

you felt a rush of emotions as she gently pulled you into her arms, and you swore your heart was going to explode as it hammered. however, you could feel hers beating just as loudly once she fully pulled you in. her embrace was tender and supportive, just like you had always dreamed of it being.

resting against her, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. minjeong’s presence was a comfort to silence your nerves, easing the weight of impending exams and everything else that usually plagued your thoughts at this hour.

“now, let's get some rest. tomorrow, we tackle those exams together.”

“goodnight, minjeong.” you whispered as your eyes fluttered shut. you felt the blonde smile against you as she whispered back. “goodnight, y/n.”

but just as you were about to let sleep pull you under completely, you felt her lips pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777

@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng

CLOSED.

[genspo]

non-trans queers NEED to give a fuck

I have been thinking a lot about this metaphor about collective security that my History and Theory of Genocide professor told us about in his class a bit ago lately. With everything that has happened to trans people in the past few weeks alone, seeing the reactions, or lack thereof of other queer people has been really gross and disheartening and angering. Basically the metaphor goes like this; picture you live in a place where you and everyone else around you has a beard. You walk outside one day and someone you see in public's beard has spontaneously combust into flames, maybe even a couple peoples beards are burning. He says that if you should choose to ignore this instance because it is "not your beard and not your peoblem" and choose not help to put it out "you had better go home and get a bucket of water and hold it under your chin, because soon your beard will be burning too.”

I have seen so many queer people with platforms who spend so much time talking about queer sexuality based topics turning a blind eye and not mentioning the full fledged erasure of trans history from STONEWALL, where trans people played an integral and VITAL role in our history and our path towards safety. A trans man was brutally tortured for over a month and then murdered by multiple men. Trans people and trans inclusive language are now excluded from all offical medical research documents. They cant even play sports, and so many people are spending more time talking about same sex marriage making its way back to the supreme court. Which IS scary and IS terrifying but i urge you all to hold yourselves accountable. Talk about what is happening to your friends who dont know. Tell your straight friends. Find protests and attend them if you can or a the very least make a concious effort to keep yourself educated and up to date on the struggles of our trans brothers and sisters, who fought with us for all we have won through the fight for equality.

Dont spend all your time waiting and worrying about when we are going to be on fire when your neighbors are already burning. Idk. Take care of your trans friends, check in on them, and use the litttle or large influence you have wether it be on some big social media plaftorm or just the influence you have on your friends, your ability to bring these topics up in your political and historical courses and in discussions with your classmates. None of us are going to be safe if some us arent. that is all.

[aespicysstuff]

Scream

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Description: "When Jenna can't help but fall in love with her coworker, but she's too much of a coward to confess believing you don't feel the same, however, the girl is wrong you would kneel for her."

Words: 18.1k

Saju: "ENJOY IT LOVE"

---

Jenna Ortega is a well-known name. She is an authentic woman with unreal beauty, creativity, cuteness, education, intelligence, and more. I could spend days complimenting her without getting tired. Like many people, I know Jenna from her works. Watching her performances on screen is already something gratifying and magnificent, but nothing compares to witnessing her talent in person.

How do I know this? Well, perhaps because, thanks to my job, I had the opportunity to work alongside one of the people I admire. Since a very young age, I have always been interested in parkour, martial arts, and boxing. Recognizing my potential in these areas, my father ensured I learned everything. Thankfully to him, I have the most enjoyable job – being a stunt double.

---

You logically started with small films and series, sometimes even commercials and a few games. You had begun to gain popularity among directors, especially after being the stunt double for Zoë Kravitz in "The Batman" and being the motion and body model for a new character in the Resident Evil game franchise. The director of "Scream VI" was looking for a stunt double for Melissa Barreram, the actress playing Sam Carpenter. Like other stunt doubles, you submitted a video showcasing your skills. After seeing your performance and how adept you were at both agile and heavy movements, they hired you for the role. You've been enjoying the experiences to the fullest.

At this moment, you were heading to the set and also meeting with the cast. During the filming, you had gotten close to almost all the actors, especially Jenna and Melissa. As you arrived, you spotted Jasmine and Mason from a distance, quickening your pace to reach them. "GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIES!" You kissed both of them on the cheek. "Good morning, lovely! You woke up in high spirits today," Jasmine said after you sat beside her. "I also noticed. Does it have something to do with a 5'1" Latina who loves playing characters with no sanity?" Mason teased while ruffling your hair.

You weakly slapped his arms, scoffing as they both broke into laughter. But when you were about to say something, a familiar scream interrupted. "MELISSA, STOP!" In minutes, you saw a small figure running towards you and hiding behind you. "Y/n, protect me, plea—" Jenna was interrupted by a furious Melissa chasing her. They ran around the table, making everyone laugh at the actresses' cuteness.

You decided it would be better to stop them before someone got hurt. You got up, caught Melissa in your arms, and held her tight. She struggled a little, but your grip was firm. Though she might be taller, you were stronger. You placed her beside Mason and sat back down, chuckling. Jenna sat beside you, and you offered her a water bottle. After she thanked you and turned to the group, you couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

Your eyes roamed every detail of her face, from her freckles to her dimple, her button nose, and the lips you wanted to feel so badly. Jenna felt her heart jumping in her chest, as if she would pass out from how intensely you were looking at her. She started leaning her face towards yours, interlinking her gaze between your eyes and your lips. Hypnotized, both of you were so entranced by each other that you didn't notice when you were called, "LOVE BIRDS!! WE HAVE SCENES TO SHOOT!! STOP EATING EACH OTHER AND GO TO THE SET!!" Jasmine, always the sweetheart, got your attention, making both of you jump a little and put some distance between yourselves.

The staff and some actors had already entered; only you and Jenna were missing. You remained in silence, trying to tame your heartbeats and your blush. You heard Jenna clearing her throat, "Uh... I-I think it's better if we go inside too." Jenna said while getting up and walking to the set, not giving you time to reply. You stayed for a bit longer, trying to absorb what just happened. Would you guys really have kissed if you weren't interrupted? You put your hands on your head, sighing, and started your way to the set.

You had started the recordings, and now you found yourself restless and apprehensive. At the moment, you were shooting the theater scene, and seeing Jenna hanging there wasn't pleasant. You couldn't believe how many times this girl faced danger without fear. She had mentioned loving to do her own stunts, and you couldn't blame her. You felt incredible after your own acrobatics. Still, you feared that one day she might get seriously injured. You couldn't help but worry about her.

You almost ran towards her when the director gave the order for her to fall, but you held back and sat down again. Her character and Jack's had a brief dialogue, and following the script, Tara thrust the knife into Ethan's mouth. You couldn't deny that seeing her smile of relief after her action and the blood on her face made you more infatuated with her than you already were.

Just as it was said, you knew Jenna from other works, and since then, you admired her. Just like her fans, you couldn't resist the charms of this Latina. Since the first day of filming, you've been falling more and more in love with her. She doesn't help much in easing these feelings since, from the first day, she hasn't let go of you. Not that you're complaining, but trying to stop liking her is almost an impossible mission.

You would really like to confess your feelings to Jenna, but you feel that she deserves someone better, someone who understands her (in the work sense) and who is a beautiful woman that fits with her. You're just the stunt double, the tomboy, as some call you, simply because you have a more sculpted body, a muscular physique, and a tomboyish style. You've always faced these kinds of unpleasant comments for these reasons. Your friends always comfort you, and your small fan community defends you as much as they can.

Jenna also always comforts you when some of these comments shake you. She always says that you're like a Doberman, always with a stern face, ready to snap at anyone who comes close. She said she feels safe with you, as if she were at home. Lost in your thoughts, you hadn't noticed that they had finished the scenes. You also didn't see a certain short girl watching you attentively.

Jenna observed every trace of your face, every bit of you. From your curly hair to your tattoos, she loves every part of you. She finds herself hopelessly in love with you, every aspect of you, habits, words—you leave her fascinated. It wasn't in her plans to fall in love, but on the day she saw you, she knew her heart wouldn't hold up. She perfectly remembers how her heart skipped a beat after seeing you. You were in simple clothes that highlighted your curves and, most importantly, your muscles. But the fatal blow was the smile you gave her after hugging her.

But Jenna is afraid of this, of these feelings. She has always been more focused on work, never paid much attention to romance. But now, after getting to know you, she daydreams about your life together.

She wants to confess, but she never manages to. She always retreats before revealing her feelings, afraid that you won't fit into her life or even that you'll distance yourself because of it. That's why she hasn't confessed yet. But the desire is there, what's lacking is courage and a bit of shame.

Jenna shook her head slightly to get rid of these thoughts and silently approached you since you were still distracted. She came close to you, laughing at your expression, and on impulse, she squeezed your shoulders and gave you a kiss on the neck, staying with her face there. "Jenna! Why did you scare me like that?" You said in a playful manner, covering your face, hearing the girl laugh at the situation. "Sorry, mi corazón, it wasn't my intention, but you looked so beautifully distracted, and I couldn't resist." She hugged you, and you turned a bit, pulling her onto your lap, hugging her waist and resting your head on her shoulder.

Jenna put her arms around your neck and planted a kiss on the top of your head. You didn't say anything, just enjoyed each other's presence. It was enough. The connection you two had was visible for everyone to see, and it was a beautiful thing. That's why many didn't bother you two. Unfortunately, your moment was interrupted by the director calling you to shoot some stunts. Both of you sighed; you gave Jenna a little pat on the thigh signaling her to get up. "No! I'm not leaving. I'm home..." She said in a cute, whiny voice, and your heart skipped a few beats. "I'm home," you couldn't help but smile.

You tightened your embrace. "It's okay, my love. I promise to spend the whole rest of the day with you." You cupped her face, caressing her cheek. Jenna felt butterflies having a party in her stomach. Ugh! How she wanted to kiss you until the air evaporated from her lungs, but she restrained herself, moving away a bit and raising her pinkie finger, "Do you promise with your pinkie?" You laughed at her cuteness and joined your pinkies, "I promise, mi amor." You kissed her fingers, making Jenna even more infatuated.

"Then go do those stunts quickly because I want to be cuddled up with you all day." You picked her up, making her squeal and then burst into laughter. You put her down and started walking toward the actors, but you stopped, turned back, and ran towards Jenna. However, what she had to say got stuck in her throat. You had given her a kiss on the eyebrow and whispered in her ear, "See you later, mi amor."

You ran off after the director shouted your name, leaving a paralyzed and tomato-red Jenna behind. She snapped out of her trance and ran to her trailer, laughing like a love-struck teenager.

---

The sun had already set when everyone was released from the recordings. The sky was partially orange, and its dim light guided you to your trailer. You knocked on the door, and it didn't take long for Jenna to open it. "You took your time!" She pulled you into a hug. "Mi amor, you were the one who got released early, haha!" You squeezed her in your arms, resting your chin on her head. You stayed like that for a few more minutes.

"Let's go inside; you must be tired." She led you in, closing the door once you entered. "Can I take a quick shower, princess?" You asked, seeing a cute pout forming on her face. "But... I wanted to cuddle with you now." She pouted, and you couldn't resist the cuteness, pinching her cheeks, making her pout intensify.

"My love, this will only take me a few minutes, and then you can have me all to yourself." Jenna looked at you with those bambi eyes and agreed, going to sit on the couch while you prepared. As you had said, after a few minutes, you were already by her side, watching none other than "Puss in Boots 2" haha. You were lying on the couch, and Jenna was lying on top of you.

There was a pleasant silence between you two, only the sounds of the movie were heard. You lowered your gaze to Jenna, observing every detail of her, from eyebrows to lips. You became (once again) hypnotized. Jenna felt your burning gaze on her head and turned her face, resting her chin between your breasts, "What's wrong?" She asked, giving you a small smile. You just shook your head, watching her, seeing how every part of her reacted. God, you were hopelessly in love and didn't know what to do.

You wanted to shout at the top of your lungs about how much you love her, wanted to kiss her, love her, take care of her, wanted to be with her. But you are a coward who can't take action and is afraid of losing her in every way. You ran your hand over Jenna's face, gently caressing her with your thumb, watching her close her eyes and practically melt into your embrace.

Jenna turned her face, depositing a kiss in the palm of your hand, still with her eyes closed. She felt the temperature of her body increase with each touch of yours; to feel you so close is a blessing and a curse at the same time. She wanted to have you like this but as her girlfriend, as the love of her life and not as "friends"; she hated that term. She wants to have the freedom to kiss you, love you, but fear and insecurities consume her, and gradually she gets closer to possibly losing you.

You were in your bubble; no one spoke anything, just felt the touches of your bodies and souls. Jenna opened her eyes, seeing your eyes fixed on her, and you realized you’d been caught. So, you sent her a crooked smile with your cheeks reddish. You realized how close your faces were, and with courage taken from your ass, you gradually started to close the distance between you two.

Jenna also started to close the distance; she felt her body tremble in anticipation. She put her hands on your shoulders, grabbing your shirt. "Kiss me… Kiss me please Y/N." Jenna grabbed your face, putting her forehead on yours. She slightly dragged her lips across your face, whispering, "kiss me mi amor."

"F*ck it," you pulled her neck and kissed her. The kiss was hurried, but firm. In it, love and desire stored for so long were transmitted. Sighs were released, hearts accelerated and synchronized, bodies hot like the embers of a bonfire, hands exploring every part of the bodies, every curve, caressing the skin like a brush caresses.

The air became scarce, and both, reluctantly, separated. Jenna had opened her eyes slowly, trying to reason if what just happened was true or just another one of her dreams. She lay on your chest, still panting, and looked at you, waiting for you to open your eyes and snap out of the trance.

You felt like you were in the clouds, more alive. You opened your eyes, seeing the woman of your dreams watching you. "Are you real? Like... did this really just happen, or am I delirious?" You asked her while caressing her hair. Jenna smiled, showing her dimple, and hid her face in your neck.

You both were euphoric, finally! You had fulfilled one of the wishes, but the doubt still lingers. Even though you had just kissed each other with all of you, with your hearts, you can't help but question, "Does she really like me?"

You cleared your throat, bringing Jenna's attention back to you. "Uh... I know we just kissed as if the world were ending, but... uh... what are we now? Like, do you really like me? Because I like— No! I... I love you, Jenna." You confessed, watching Jenna react with disbelief. "I've loved you since the day I met you, with your more reserved way, your somewhat eccentric humor, your sarcasm, your freckles." You said everything with a smile on your face and a special sparkle in your eyes. "You can't imagine all the times I held back from kissing you, telling you how much I love you. All the tears I shed for you, feeling insufficient for you." You let out a shaky sigh; getting all of this off your chest is a relief.

Jenna couldn't explain what she felt at this moment. Relief? Happiness? Sadness? She couldn't believe that you were really saying all this; her heart felt like it was going to explode with so much happiness. But she felt sad hearing your last words, "How dare you feel that way?!? Y/n, I've never felt so happy, safe, and comfortable with anyone like I feel with you. It's like my heart already knew that you would take care of it with your life." She passed her hand over your face, wiping away the tears that you didn't even realize were falling.

"You make me feel so many things at once, but none of them is something bad. You always take care of me, make me feel beautiful, make me feel like I can conquer the world and the universe. You are my star; you are more than enough for me, mi amor. And answering you, I love you too, and I want this to turn into something more. I want you as my partner for the rest of my life." She chuckled lightly; her soul felt light after confessing, after knowing that you also love her.

You hugged each other with big smiles on your faces. Both have a lot to learn, but now, they won't do it alone. You have each other, and this union will be hard to break. Your love is special, like the love of the sun for the moon.

[russo-woso]

Falling in love || Kyra Cooney-Cross x Catley!reader

Prompt list here. Request here.

Summary The beginning of yours and Kyra’s story

“Kyra meet my sister Y/N, Y/N, Kyra.” Steph introduced you both as Kyra walked into the living room.

Kyra had just moved to Arsenal and still didn’t have any electrical products, like a tv, sorted so Steph had invited her round for a movie night to save Kyra from boredom.

Unlike your sister, you didn’t play football, instead you dreamed of becoming a teacher, but you didn’t want to live in Australia, hence why you followed Steph to England.

Steph had promised your mum to look after you and the best way to do that was if you moved in with her and her fiance, Dean.

“Nice to meet you, Kyra.” You told her, jumping up from your spot on the couch to greet her.

Kyra didn’t respond straight away, instead just looking at you.

You had to admit, she was very cute but you couldn’t date one of Steph’s teammates.

Although she’d never stated it, you felt like you were betraying her if you did.

“So, I thought we could just order some pizza and then watch some films, sound alright?” Steph asked you both, desperately wanting to change the subject to save the awkwardness.

“Sounds perfect.” Kyra spoke up

—

After watching a movie and putting on another, you looked over to find Steph fast asleep, but Kyra still wide awake.

As you were looking over at her, she looked at you.

There was clearly a sense of awkwardness that had risen so you tried your hardest to try come up with a conversation starter.

“So, Kyra, how are you enjoying London?” You asked, stuttering a few times as you looked at the girl.

“It’s nice, the weathers bad, better than Sweden though.” Kyra responded, a small smile resting on her face.

“I know, I went to Sweden last year with my friend from uni and she’s Swedish and had pre-warned me that it would be cold. Long story short, it snowed the whole week I was there.” You explained, and Kyra let out a giggle.

“It does tend to snow a lot there. You mentioned university, what degree are you doing?” Kyra questioned, continuing the conversation.

“An educational degree, I want to be a primary school teacher.” You responded and she nodded.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and getting to know each other.

The sounds of talking and giggles taking over the sound of the movie.

Steph, who had woken up at some point due to laughter erupting from you and Kyra, couldn’t help but smile at the sound of her sister and close friend.

That night, as Kyra was leaving, you swapped numbers, promising to meet up again soon.

What you didn’t realise was that soon meant soon soon. Like in the morning soon.

It was a last minute decision but you’d asked Kyra if she wanted to meet for a coffee before she had training.

Kyra messaged back saying yes almost immediately and you replied back with the address of your favourite cafe.

“Hey, Ky.” You said as you saw her sat down at a table.

She got up and hugged you, before you both sat down opposite each other.

Similarly to the previous night, the conversation flowed and you found yourself staring in awe at Kyra.

There was just something, everything, that you loved.

After that morning, you both found yourselves making up excuses to see each other.

As much as you loved seeing Kyra, you couldn’t help but feel guilty.

You could feel yourself falling for the girl but she was your sister’s teammate.

Could you do that Steph?

You didn’t know the answer to that question until the match against Chelsea.

A few nights before the match, you had been at Kyra’s apartment, her having cooked dinner for the two of you, when she’d asked in conversation if you could come watch the match.

Now, normally, you didn’t go to many matches, only going to watch big games that meant a lot to your sister.

But Kyra asking you was different, you wanted to watch the match, you wanted to watch her play.

Steph couldn’t believe her hearing when you told her.

She must have asked about four times for you to repeat before the message actually went to her brain.

The following Sunday, you travelled to the sold out Emirates stadium.

Although you hated watching football, you had a really good time, getting to see your sister and Kyra win 4-1 over Chelsea.

You made your way to the players exit, hoping to see Kyra before she went home.

“You played amazing, Ky.” You whispered into her hair as you hugged her tightly.

“I only played like five minutes.” Kyra pointed out, a saddened smile on her face.

“Yeah but you changed the whole play when did come on.” You tried to cheer her up, genuinely telling the truth.

“I guess.”

“Anyway, Steph’s waiting in the car for me. I told her that I wanted to wait to see you and that I’d only be five minutes but someone is a slow changer.” You teased her, and a light pigment spread over her cheeks. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

As you were walking away, you heard your name being called.

“Y/N, wait.” Kyra shouted. “Go on a date with me.”

“A date?”

“Yeah, only if—” Kyra started but you cut her off.

“—I’d love to, Ky. Message me.” You told her, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek, before walking away.

You got into the car with a massive smile on your face making Steph look at you with the biggest smirk ever.

“Something’s got you happy, huh? Is it Kyra?” Steph playfully questioned you. “Aw, look at you blushing.”

“Fine, fine. Kyra asked me on a date. Would you be okay with that?” You asked her hesitantly.

“Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because she’s your teammate and I don’t know.” You told her

“Ladybug, you’re my sister, I just want you to be happy, and if that’s with Kyra, then I’m happy for you.” Steph said, using your childhood nickname.

“Thanks, Steffy.”

“Now, when’s the date? What are you wearing? Where is it?”

You groaned as the questions kept coming.

“Do you know what? I really do love you Steph, and I know I don’t mean this, but I really hate you right now.”

—

The following Saturday, Kyra took you to a small restaurant on the outskirts of st albans which just so happened to be your favourite restaurant.

“How did you know this was my favourite?” You asked her as you sat down at the table.

“I remember you telling me back when we first met.” Kyra replied, sending you a smile.

Your heart melted at the fact she’d remembered something so little from months ago.

Over dinner, you and Kyra laughed, and spoke, and just told each other everything and anything.

To say it was an incredible night was an understatement.

After paying the bill, you and Kyra went back into the car and started to drive back to Steph’s house.

Once more, the conversation never died down, you and Kyra finding something to laugh about.

The drive came to an end as Kyra pulled outside the house.

You turned to look at her, resting your hand on hers which was still perched on the gear stick.

“Thank you for tonight, Ky. I think it was genuinely one of the best nights of my life.” You told her and she smiled.

“Me too.”

As you went to leave the car, Kyra grabbed ahold of your arm.

Without needing to be told anything else, you turned to face her again, but smashed your lips onto hers.

Kyra immediately kissed back, smiling into the kiss as it came to an end.

“That was amazing.” Kyra said, a smile taking over her face.

“I’ve waited to do that for months.” You told her and she hummed in agreement.

“You know, my mom used to tell me what it was like to fall in love. Even in my wildest dreams, I never thought it'd be this good. The past few months have been the best ones of my life because I’ve been given the gift of falling for you.” Kyra admitted and your heart melted at her words.

“Oh, Ky.” You didn’t know what to do, there was no words that could express how you felt so instead, you placed your lips on hers. “I can’t believe you chose me to fall in love with.”

“You should believe it. You’re kind, you’re gorgeous, you’re clever. Ways there not to like?”

“You know, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you over the past few months, it’s that you’re a sweet talker, Kyra.” You joked, and she laughed lightly.

Once again, you connected your lips together, but it was soon interrupted my your sisters face staring at the two of you through the car window.

“Steph!”