#he's sorta an academic rival

[coming-of-age-witch]

he: do you know how to derive this formula? me: nope, will learn later he: see? you dont know how to derive that formula, i do, and still i'm the one who suffers

????i have no idea what that guy mean't by this

[uarmymoonlight]

after the afterparty

pairing: nerd!namjoon X ex-mean girl!reader 

genre: frenemies (? sorta) to lovers, rivals to lovers, college!au, one-shot, angsty, smut,

summary: after a night of partying with your (now ex-)classmates, namjoon finds you alone in the kitchen and unspoken feelings and desires come rushing to the surface 

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, reader’s a bit of an asshole, namjoon kinda idolizes her, lots of untold backstory for the #angst, tit/nipple play, biting (lightly)

words: a little over 4.8k

taglist: @kyglover @luaspersona

crossposted on AO3: here.

image by @/chimigraphic on twitter

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You finally take a deep breath of the cold night air. Eyes closed, beer in hand, hip leaned in against the kitchen counter. Another deep breath. 

This night took a real toll on you: 2 hours of pre-game plus 4 of partying and an unbelievable  2 and a half more of after-partying, all in the name of socialization and redemption. But it’s over now. 

You let the silence embrace and erase you. The outdoor lights paint the room with a faint blue and the only sound is a car passing by and the sink leaking. It’s just you there. The rest have gone to bed –  their own or someone else’s - or back to their own airbnbs. But, as tired as you are, you stay there in the kitchen. This last moment of silence before you leave this place for good. And these long nearly 9 hours of today won’t matter. The people at the party won’t matter. Not even that award-stealing, headache-inducing, infuriating, dimpled assh–

A noise stops your thoughts. You turn to your right to see Namjoon kneeling down to catch the water bottle he’d dropped.

“Namjoon.”

“Hey”, he licks his lips “I...I thought everyone else was gone or sleeping.” 

“So did I.” 

A beat of silence goes by and then another, a longer one. You could almost laugh at the silence that sets between the two of you. Had this happened a while back, you would’ve already told him to fuck off and probably insulted him somehow. Then again, had this been back then, he would’ve been vexing you endlessly by refusing to let the silence just be, doing that nervous back-and-forth on his heels he used to do all the time and talking your ear off. 

This isn’t back then, however. So now, you’re just looking at each other. 

Alright. You said you’d change your attitude, didn’t you? Here’s a test for you to prove you did. Your chance to do something to Namjoon you’ve never done before: be nice. 

“Congratulations.”

He scoffs, incredulous.

“You’re congratulating me?”

You can’t say you’re surprised he asked. There was a time you’d rather have eaten your own two feet before ever complimenting Namjoon to his face, a time you’d have done anything to not stay in the same room as him. Let alone just the two of you together. 

“Well, I did tell you I would, when you deserved it” you remind him “You won the academic decathlon, graduated top of the class, and you got the girl. You deserve it now, so there you go: congratulations.” you raise your glass slightly to him. 

He hesitates. 

“I got a girl.” 

You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. You keep staring at him with those piercing eyes of yours. He hates them. Hates how much he’s always been so aware of them. Hates how much he’s always been so desperate to understand the emotions behind them. But, most of all, he hates how beautiful he finds them, how much they make him feel so on the spotlight, so special. 

He watches you open and close your mouth. Once. Twice. You’re speechless? Now here’s one for the history books, he thinks. You’re probably debating whether you should ask him or not about what he meant by that. And God, he hopes you do. He wants you to ask him, he so desperately does. He needs you to want to know what he means. He needs this opening to tell you exactly why Seulgi isn’t the girl, he needs this one chance to tell you what he’s been holding in for so long, the feelings that are always on the tip of his tongue. 

Namjoon waits for you to ask. But you don’t. You look away. 

You can’t ask him, because that question leads to things you’ve already shut the door of, a long time ago. And he should know better than to try and get it out of you. But he’s Namjoon. Namjoon, always the hopeful idealist, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. And you, always the scoffing pessimist, the egotistical cold bitch. So, you take the coward’s route and when you look back at him all you say is:

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” So there’s no point in talking about any of this, is what you don’t say.

“I know.” 

Again, neither of you talk for a while. In silence, you simply look at each other. The air between you is tense with something neither could name exactly. Namjoon breaks the silence this time. 

“Dance with me?” he extends his left hand to you. 

“There’s no music.”

He shrugs and insists “Dance with me.”

You look at his still stretched hand towards you and it’s almost a perfect flashback of that one night so many nights ago. When he had also reached out for you, in ways more than just physical. When Namjoon had laid out so much of himself for you and all you did was spit it back at him. 

“You owe me this one”, he says. Maybe he’s an ass for insisting on this, but God knows you actually do owe him at least this one. You do, and you know it. “You didn’t even talk to me at my party earlier”, he adds. 

And it’s just another time that you realize he really is a much better person than you are for using the party as leverage, and not…Well, everything else you’ve done. It’s something you’re not sure you would’ve done for him. 

You softly put down your beer on the counter, looking at it while you do so. Anything to not look at him just yet. You need those extra few seconds to…You don’t know what for. To prepare? To breathe? It isn’t to think, surely. Maybe that’s it. You need to not think about what you’re going to do. When the can touches the counter, you spin it a couple times, staring at the label. 

With your peripheral vision, you can see Namjoon’s offering hand still out. Again, you remember another moment, a long time ago, when he offered his hand too. You had refused it. God, you suck at this not thinking thing. Andnd you suck at not being a coward.

You finally peel away from the counter and walk quietly to namjoon. You stare at his hand and, taking your time, you slide yours in it. Feeling every inch of his skin until both of your hands are completely touching, and when that happens, you feel a breath you didn’t realize you were holding come out. You feel a bit pathetic for it. The worst part is you hear Namjoon doing the same thing. 

Namjoon is smart, you know that. You and everyone who saw him beat you at everything academic-related year after year after year. He’s smart. But he’s not truly smart. If he were truly smart, you think, he’d pull away right now. If he were, he’d turn his back away from you for good. 

He doesn’t. He slides his hand from yours to your elbow, caressing your forearm on his way and pulls you in. His fingers on his right hand brush against you, starting with your fingers and going up until he settles it on your waist, pulling you in even more. Not letting go of your elbow, he places your hand on his chest and you complete the action by sliding both your arms around his neck. 

You still haven’t looked in his eyes, focusing on his shirt. Actually, his chest. You’d rather not think about that.

You feel his presence all around you, feel him on your skin even though very few parts of you are really touching the other. You feel his head close to yours, your feet almost touching. The two of you stand locked in place.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?” His voice is little more than a breath. 

“Move.” 

You hear him scoff lightly and get brave enough to glance at him through your eyelashes. Only a shadow of a smile rests on his lips, so his famous dimples are nowhere in sight. 

As he begins to lead you, that quivering bravery you felt moments ago vanishes. You go back to staring at his shirt while embarrassingly hoping you don’t step on his toes. You'd count your steps, instead of just hoping you're doing it right. That is if you knew how to do that. Shouldn't there be music in order to properly count the steps? Isn't that how it works? You count by following the beat of the song, right? But, then again, there's supposed to be music when you dance regardless of the counting. God, what a stupid idea. Why did you agree to this anyway?

Namjoon pulls you even closer, joining your chests and your thighs together as you draw in a surprised breath and let out a sigh. Now, your nose brushes against his lips. 

Ah, right. That is why.

You really can't do this not-thinking thing. Product of years over worrying about your social status and over analyzing every interaction you had to make sure you came out on top. It’s actually a lot of hard work being the main top bitch in the area.

Briefly, you wonder what people would think if they saw you right now in his arms. You wonder what Namjoon thinks of this whole scene. 

And what an interesting scene it is: the dim lights covering you like a blanket while you quietly embrace, a dance that is little more than just swaying softly to a soundtrack of whispers and wind. You can see your pale reflections on the window. The image akin to that of ghost lovers lost to time, only united by the sound of emptiness when time is frozen. Maybe is because of that image of emptiness and stillness, and because you already decided to leave that you tell him:

"I'm sorry.” It's said so softly, so hopelessly, that Namjoon nearly misses it.

There’s so much he could say to that and yet…He puts a hand on your chin and pulls you away just enough to look at your face. With your eyebrows frowning and your beautiful eyes wide scanning him, you look as scared as Namjoon feels. Namjoon traces your face with his thumb: eyebrow to temple to cheek to your lips. This last caress makes your lips part a little, enough for only a thread of air to pass, and eyes flutter. 

There’s so much he could say, but there's only one thing he wants. 

Your lips touch in a strong kiss. A kiss that is like that first leap of courage into a cold pool. You know the water will be cold at first, but you also know that if you don't jump, you'll never get into the pool. And just like in a pool, neither of you breathe for a while. Just like in a pool, Namjoon is terrified of that first splash of water, scared you'll push him away. 

The kiss ends and you catch your breaths. Not for long, though. You grab the lapel of his jacket to pull him in again and relock your lips. Now, you make sure it's a proper kiss, you take your time learning how to kiss him and how you two fit. After a swirl of your tongue, you feel his hand on your lower back put more pressure and pin you closer. Your legs open slightly and he puts one of his legs a little in between yours, his crotch rubbing against yours as you kiss. As you sink your finger deeper into his jacket, Namjoon firmly grabs the back of your neck and presses his hold. The shivers all over your body and your moan encourage him. 

A surprised gasp leaves you when Namjoon, with one hand grabbing your neck and the other around your waist, moves you until your back is against a wall. The cold surface touching your back provides a small break from the hot and heavy air between you and him. A small part of you - the part that isn’t busy kissing him - is a little shocked at how strong he got. When you first met him, he was all height and bones. You’d heard he’d started going to the gym some semesters ago, but you sorta refused to really acknowledge it and, when your eyes and body acknowledged that independently, your brain made a conscious choice to ignore it. At the moment, you don’t have much brainpower to make any choice besides making out with him. 

Namjoon likes to think he's self aware enough to not be an arrogant prick, but he can't stop the feeling of pride taking over him as you touch him with such clear appreciation of his new physique. He responds to it with his own devotion, intoxicated by your trademark perfume, the same lingering scent that would always tempt him whenever you left a room. 

You feel his toned chest and your hands travel along his strong shoulders. And you feel a bit stupid, a bit clichè, because you put your hands on his upper arms and squeeze his biceps. Kinda like in those stupid movies where the sweet bimbo cheerleader fakes coyness as she fawns over the totally not humble quarterback’s muscles. Okay, so, yeah, maybe it’s a bit eye-rolling worthy, but God! his biceps! If his biceps weren’t enough…his thighs! His thighs are huge and strong and you think you’re not really ashamed of how you gladly let him put one of them between your legs. Also, you don’t care that you two are unabashedly dry humping each other, like two horny inexperienced teenagers. Well, suppose that goes with the cheerleader-quarterback thing. Besides, Namjoon certainly doesn’t seem to mind, guiding and motivating your movements by stroking your ass. 

Jesus, dry humping someone should not feel this good. You keep going, more, more and more, feeling yourself get wetter with each move, feeling Namjoon get harder each time you feel his dick brushing against your lower belly. He lifts your leg and repositions himself at a better angle so it isn’t just the friction that’s doing it for you, but the hard pressure of his dick too making you nearly lose your mind in need of him - and he's barely touched you. How come you're affected by him like this? 

You open your eyes to see him leaving messy kisses along your skin, making his way down your neck past your collarbones. When he reaches your cleavage he makes it a point to maintain eye contact and lazily kisses the space between your breasts. Again, Namjoon isn't particularly conceited, still, he shows a boastful smirk at your eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continues his way down your body, his hands trailing its contours and feeling the soft silk of your dress he wished you weren’t wearing. 

To him, you’re beautiful like a queen: proud, imposing, and powerful. You’ve always been. He thinks it’s your sharp, intelligent eyes, your intent look, but it’s also your straight and confident posture. Looking at you at the moment, though he can still see that spark of intelligence, your eyes are heavy-lidded. Your posture is not insecure, it’s solicitous, fully ready to give in to him. But you’re still you and because you’re still you that there’s still a hint of royal impatience in the way you press yourself against his body, demanding more out of him. 

The vision of him going down past your belly button makes you take a breath and arch your back in anticipation. You'd sooner kill yourself before saying you felt butterflies in your stomach, but you do feel something. It takes all your little sense of self control to not grab his hair and lead him straight to where you want him. You don’t have a chance to actually do this since he’s already dipping even lower, eyeing you with malice and desire and nearly driving you crazy with need. You feel your nipples harden when he strokes your folds through your panties with his thumb before pushing the clothing aside. 

“Namjoon”, you moan. 

He lets out a low growling sound at that and begins exploring your pussy. Fingers and tongue take turns touching and tasting you. His fingers open and stretch you while his mouth sucks on your clit. You think you mumble something along the lines of “yes” and “there” a few times. Your fingers curl in response and your hips move following his rhythm. He licks and sucks and tastes and touches and strokes and you feel yourself closer to cumming with each movement. 

Once more, you catch a glimpse of yourselves in a window. The sight is one of pure depravation. You see how dishelved you look, your lips swollen from the kisses and hair an entangled mess on your head, dress hiked up as one of your legs is proped up on Namjoon’s shoulder, a hand of his squeezing your thigh.You’re a bit impressed at how he’s still at it, when your last few hook-ups seemed to want to eat you out as quickly as possible only to say they did it. You’ve never really seen a man who seems so happy to eat pussy like Namjoon. You watch your reflection for a little bit longer while he continues edging you.

Enough. You need all of him now.

“Namjoon”, you say breathlessly. It was a command, but your mind can only think about his tongue on your pussy. You try again. You forcefully pull his head back “Namjoon.” 

He hisses a bit due to the force of you pulling his hair. 

“Yes, Your Highness?” you squint your eyes in annoyance hearing the mocking nickname he gave you so long ago. You hated the nickname, because you knew it wasn’t a compliment, just a veiled insult of his. However, hearing it while he’s on his knees for you…not bad, you think, not bad at all. Especially when his already deep voice sounds deeper and raspy, the words coming out with a drawl.

“Bedroom. Now.”

He’s up in a second, leading you upstairs. The way up is confusing and chaotic, with the two of you nearly running but barely letting go of each other, hot and lewd kisses exchanged while you walk. You have no idea how Namjoon finds the right door. He stops kissing you only to open the bedroom’s door, which you quickly shut behind you. He tries to put you against it, but you flip him and press him to the door instead. 

For a moment, you only look at him. Spreading your hands on his muscular chest, you listen to your heavy breathing. 

“Y/N.” 

You kiss him again. You put your lips on his neck and take your time there, busying your hands with taking off his jacket and then unbottuning his shirt. When you finish, you stroke his bulge through his pants. Namjoon lets out a hungry hiss that has you rubbing your thighs together. The point of stroking him was to tease Namjoon, you wanted to see if you could get him so worked up as he’d done to you. Unfortunately for you, you find out that that’s a double edged sword and it’s sharper end is pointed towards you, because the more you touch him the more you feel yourself get hotter. Having him in your hand only makes your mouth water. 

There’s only one thing you can think of right now. You pull his member out of his pants, stroking the full length once before you turn him and push him down on the bed. Namjoon watches you crawl onto the bed and fully take off his pants and underwear. It’s not slow and sweet or careful. Every motion of yours is aggressive and fast, eyes gleaming with a hungry determination Namjoon is sure is mirrored in his own eyes. You’re beautiful, so so beautiful. On all fours over him like a fucking lioness ready for her meal. Just looking at you like this makes him even harder. 

Maybe the gentlemanly thing would be to stop and tell  you there’s no need to repay the favor of earlier. But, well, maybe Namjoon isn’t a gentleman, after all. And he’d surely never deny you of anything, not when you so clearly want him. The idea of you wanting him just a fraction of how much he wants you is the best feeling in the world. Or rather, the second best. Because the first is definitely the feeling of your mouth on him. 

You take his full length in your mouth, coating his dick with your saliva. Namjoon watches as you alternate between teasing kitten licks on his cockhead and properly sucking him off, your hands griping the base of his cock. God, you’re not simply beautiful, you’re gorgeous. He fights against the urge to roll back in his eyes in order to watch you going down on him. Your hair is thrown around, some of it tickling his thigh while your head keeps bobbing up and down, your makeup is smeared and your dress is a crumpled mess. And you’re gorgeous.

You make eye contact with him with your lips still wrapped around him and he thinks he’s gonna die. Or cum. Probably both. Maybe it’s his dick talking, but he thinks he’d die happy right now. 

“Tell me what you like”, you tell him. 

“You.”

The immediate blurted out answer shocks you a bit. You scoff. 

“You really can’t keep it in.”

In the split second you don’t move, Namjoon starts to deflate. He ruined everything. He waits for you to get up and leave. 

You don’t. 

You lean forwards and kiss him. The kiss is nothing more than just the press of your lips together. You ignore the still lingering doubt in Namjoon’s eyes. Reaching past him, you go through the drawers on the nightstand. As you look for condoms, your tits are hanging above Namjoon’s head and he peppers kisses on them. After a few seconds, you get the condom out the drawer. 

Namjoon tries taking it out of your hands.

“Give me, I can do it.”

“No”, you stop him. “It’s fine.”

You kiss him lightly on the cheek. Namjoon has to stop for a bit. You’d never been so…soft with him before. Not even in those few months long ago when you had been something akin to friends. 

Not wasting any time, you put the condom on his cock. You quickly take your panties off and guide his lenght to where you want it. You two stare at each other as you sink yourself on his cock. Moaning at how he stretches you out. You love how full he makes you feel. He’s so big, his cock makes you feel so good. Having him in your mouth was one thing, having him inside you was heavenly. You place a hand on Namjoon’s chest. 

“Lay down.”

Because you personally believe feminism is about having a buff hot nerdy guy under you while you get yourself off. 

Head on the pillows, he watches you move your hips, leading him in a slow sensual rhythm. Moaning, your head rolls back in pleasure, mouth open to help you breathe better. The two of you pick up the pace, you bouncing on his cock a little then reverting back to grinding. 

“Y/N, your dress. Please.”

Understanding what he means, you pull your dress above your head and toss it to the side. With both hands holding your hips, he only gives your tits a dazed glare. He keeps watching when you take your own hand and play with your tits. Namjoon growls and thrusts his hips upwards harder when you lick two of your fingers and use them to play with your nipples, caressing and pinching them, your palms massaging the rest of the soft flesh. 

“Like that?” 

The raspiness of your voice, that sparkle of meanness in your eyes, that one raised eyebrow on your face…it’s all almost too much for Namjoon. You are gorgeuous. And he’s so impossibly hard. 

“Yeah.” 

The word almost doesn’t come out. You shake your head and giggle at him. Only you. Only you could be bouncing on a guy’s cock, suck him off, have him eat you out, and, with just a little giggle, make the guy blush. Still, if feels so good to make you laugh. Even if it’s at him. So good. 

Almost beats being inside of you. Almost.

Namjoon flips you and lays you down on the bed. Immediately after you hit the mattress, he’s already on you, mouth licking and sucking on you tit. His pace gets faster, more franctic, more desperate. Hitting deeper and deeper. When he hits a sweet spot, you moan louder. 

“Yeah, there. More. More. Yes. Yeah,” you repeat the words like a mantra. 

“So beautiful”, he tells you. “Almost there, baby.”

God, the pet name. “Can’t take it anymore”, you say.

“Yeah, you can, baby. You can take it all.”

He knows you can. You - open wide for him, hair spread on the pillows like a halo, nipples hardened for him, pussy clenching around him - can take it. You are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

On top of you, Namjoon looks like a fucking beast, in the best way possible. Eyebrows furrowed and barring his teeth, his honey skin sprinkled with sweat. A drop of it slips from his forehead and falls on your cheek and you finally cum. Moaning his name over and over. He put his mouth again on your tit, gritting your nipple between his front teeth. With a final moan out of you, Namjoon empties himself inside the condom. 

For a few seconds, you don’t move, just listen to each other breathing. Namjoon feels himself getting softer inside you and, on the back of his mind, he dreads the moment he pulls out from you. Dreads the moment you realise whatever you were doing was over, and so was your business with him. 

Still, he can’t stay inside you forever. He pulls out. 

He busies himself with taking the condom off him and throwing it away while he notices you get tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up. He mentally kicks himself for not doing it for you, but then again, maybe you don’t want him doing this for you. That’s another kind of intimacy you haven’t given him the greenlight to do. Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts. 

“Where’s the bathroom?” 

You put your dress back on and his heart aches. “First door to the right. Hey, uh - “ he begins before you leave “I’ll go get water. Do you want some?” 

You shake your head and leave the room. 

Silently, he puts his underwear and pants back on and goes to the kitchen, trying all the way down to not think of you. 

He stays a little bit longer than needed in the kitchen. Even after everything, he still can’t feel sure of anything with you. There’s still that ugly feeling of inadequacy whispering in his head that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Tonight was just a fluke. 

Namjoon goes back to the bedroom expecting you to not be there anymore. He imagines you jumping out of the bathroom window to escape him or sneaking off through the roof. If he wasn’t busy feeling sorry for what you two could’ve been, he’d probably laugh at the scenarios he made up. 

When he opens the bedroom door, though, he finds you there. Curled up under the sheets on one side of the bed. Your eyes are closed and your face is serene. He hesitates. 

“You’re not gonna sleep?” 

You ask without opening your eyes. Namjoon doesn’t answer, but he climbs onto bed behind you. He doesn’t touch you, but he’s close enough that you feel his warmth beside you and his breathing on your neck. 

A while of silence goes by. He’s not sure if you’re already asleep. However, there’s one more thing he needs to say to you, even if you don’t hear it. Something he was too much of a coward to say before.

“Stay.”

You open your eyes. You’re careful to make no move to alert him you’re still up. 

You think about his request. Stay. Part of you wants to, part of you - a very small and recent part of you that is hopeful, a part that is only there because Namjoon coaxed it out of you - says you could stay. Stay. You could stay with him. Stay in his bed. In this city. Stay… 

Like you said, though, that is a very small part of you. The biggest one is a coward. 

When Namjoon wakes up to an empty side of the bed the next day, he instantly knows what happened. 

You left. 

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author’s note: my first attempt at writing smut (at least full on smut, star to finish), hope it doesn’t suck :DDDD  any and all feedback/comments are appreciated

[chocsra]

"Playing with Balls are Not For The Weak (Pause on that.)"

15! basketball plyr! chuuya x gn! reader - HIGHSCHOOL AU, HEADCANONS + DRABBLES

a/n: as per request, thank you @sstarshroom my pookie ☺️, sincere apologies for the title its my toilet humor. next week will be dazai content im sorry my dear dazai fans

content: headcanons, drabbles, fluff, slowburn, pre-relationship,"in a world of boys, hes a gentleman", chuuya as them short hoopers, relationship of these two actually sucking at life, cheeky and smug chuuya, idiots in love, dumbass behaviour

as a classmate, chuuya would have a pretty big friendgroup but only really hang out with a few select people;

in class, he's quiet and focuses on school;

he's also naturally smart, a good 80s-90s student without much effort;

chuuya takes academics seriously but since he doesn't really have to work his ass off to study, he wouldn't be competitive in school, so sorry to all the academic rivals to lovers girlys

you know what he would take seriously though, sports.

and it's not even the serious shit, you could play dodgeball and he's sweating his ass off;

so certified hotshot of the school, short king energy, okay.

Your teacher tediously writes away on a few documents of paper, adjusting his glasses with the flick of his hand. "We have a few boxes from the food drive," he announces, catching the attention of your working classroom. "I need a strong person to carry them to the office, pleas-" a loud smack of a laptop closing can be heard, "MEMEME!!" the class goes silent, staring as your classmate, Chuuya Nakahara, happily voluneer to deliver a few boxes.

okay, okay, so as a classmate, people either think he's slightly irritating or alright, it's another story in gym class though, nobody likes him.

"Pass the ball- PASS THE BALL!" Chuuya yells, you couldn't lie; him wrapping a piece of red cloth around his head like some kind of warrior was sorta concerning? No, really concerning. The small boy leeches his arms out as defense, concentration written all over his face. You dribble the basketball a few times, about to pass it to him. "I said pass it!!" he shouts, rude. You furrow your brows in offense before harshly throwing the ball in his direction, aiming for his head.

Unfortunately, throwing basketballs at your own team player's forehead didn't result in an instant win. As you two sat on the bench, watching the current game along sidelines as Chuuya rubs his temple with an icepack, his red headband cloth resting atop of his knee, focussing intentively. When your team has been declared lost, he clenched the icepack in his hand and starts profusely running around the gym, mourning a gym class basketball game.

I mean, it's not like he's a terrible person though, you've seen the guy, he can be nice, he's got it in his system. Like one time in gym class, dodgeball specifcally.

"Ow! The fuck?" yet another dread of gym class was at your service, the heated air of dodgeballs flying left and right through the air overwhelmed you to say the least. And one of those balls just hit you right on the head, you pensively rub your temple, hearing a loud "You're out!!" from the opposing team.

Curse words roll off your tongue in embarrassment, about to do the walk of shame to the bench until a hand rests on your shoulder. "Hey," you twist your head around, seeing Chuuya approach you, as everyone else fights like their damn lives depended on it. "Did the ball hit your head?" he asks, the boy had short copper locks that framed his face pretty nicely, this time there wasn't a red cloth tied around his head.

"Yea," you quip, turning away from him, the hand on your shoulder lifts as you feel soft fingers brush away some of your hair from the side of your face. "Yeah, that's not allowed, you're still in the game, okay?" the redhead assures you as he casually takes a quick look at your temple. You nod releuctantly, as he pats your shoulder again a few times before smugly continuing the game. Since when did Chuuya Nakahara abide the rules?

You know, there seems to be a reaccuring pattern between you two. Everytime you're near each other, someone always get hit in the face with a ball.

But, there seemed to be more casual conversations, ones that didn't include violence with sports equipment.

As a friend, Chuuya was teasing, he always said no to what you asked him to do, but ends up doing it anyway.

"Can you hold my bag?" you ask, "No." the redhead says as he grabs your bag anyway

but as a friend, he came with more benefits. a trustable walking partner.

It's that time of the season, December, where snow engulfed every pathway you walked on. It was one of those days after school, walking home in the freezing cold; but today was unlucky, you were caught in a snow storm. And apparently, your friendgroup is nowhere to be found.

To be honest, walking alone is kind of scary, intimidating, terrifiying. You would run, but ice was everywhere, tripping in public wouldn't be any better than fear.

You saw a black jacket, red scarf, and a backpack with soccer keychains and a massive waterbottle. Most obvious feature, was the black gloves the figure wore. "Chuuya!" you call out, the boy almost immediately spins around, nodding to you as a greeting. "What's up?!" he flashes a cheeky smile, the redhead was pretty far away from you, and you weren't just interested in a simple 'hello'.

"Can you walk with me?" you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets from the cold. The redhead doesn't falter his smile, not hearing you as he had earphones on. "What?" he asks, communicating with you whilst walking backwards; some assholes just don't care about splitting your head open on ice.

"Can you walk with me?!" you repeat, the ginger stops in his tracks, muttering an "ohhh" as he speeds towards you. Again, some assholes just don't care about their life. And so, Chuuya doing a quick slip and drop onto the sidewalk, in a snowstorm, whilst running to you would be the outcome of this story.

...

You immediately start laughing your ass off, watching as any smugness on his face completely disapates. Accepting defeat in every form. "Fuck!" you cackle, slapping your knee. You attempt to skedaddle to him, still laughing before.. Slip. You fall onto him, your elbow piercing his ribs, the boy chokes out a cry of pain before you laid together on the ground in pure defeat. You know what passing by cars thought of when they saw you two? Two teenagers laying on the ground, 'X' style, in the middle of a fucking snowstorm.

You made it home safely, having to make your friend and classmate, Chuuya Nakahara, hot chocolate as an apology.

yeah, having chuuya as your friend can get pretty hefty, and violence is all that seems to be thrown at your friendship;

as a friend, you and chuuya didn't feel like friends sometimes, it was weird;

he constantly asked you to come to his games, in all honesty - you were too busy or just felt like staying home;

there was one day though, you did come to his game, out of pure curiousity

and when he saw your face, accompanied with a wave, the teenager knew; he was inlove.

he was really bad at showing it though

After enough convincing, you finally showed up to another one of Chuuya's games, you've already once; but apparently this one was really important.

You were actually concentrating, it was getting really heated, time was getting thiner, and the scores were relatively even.

The crowd roared as Chuuya took the ball, running through the court with a focussed but cheeky look on his face.

Just as he reached the net, he yelled out the loudest, unexpected sentence.

"[Y/N]! This one's for you!!"

The crowd's jaw drops in shock and anticipation, whoosh, he missed miserably.

damn, you guys really suck.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Ice skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: Not me saying I’m back then disappearing for a week… I made this chapter a bit longer as an apology. I also saw the Arctic monkeys on Tuesday so I was a bit focused on that lmao. Excuse any grammatical errors, typos and Miguel being ooc. Also there will probably be only 2 or 3 chapters left of this series before I start working on my academic rival series.

(Y/N)- your name.

Cursing, angst (?), fluff (???) , mostly reader and friends but Miguel shows up at the end, promise it’s worth it.

Word count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 11: Sad to see you go, was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay.

—

You felt your body fill with anxiety as you watch Kate cross out another box on the whiteboard in your shared dorm, it felt like you had blink and suddenly the time flow would passed you, leaving you at the beginning of midterms, and regionals coming close the following Friday, you felt like if you blinked again time will fly out ass you again. You weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted or not. It’s like time was either moving antagonizing slow or so fast it was almost dizzying.

“Do you have a Halloween costume picked out for the party we’re gonna go to on frat row yet?” Kate’s question made your head snapped over to your shared bathroom, not even realizing that she had moved from the whiteboard in the first place.

“Maybe i should lay off the coffee…” you thought to yourself before shaking your head, it took you a second to realize she can’t see you from were you sat on top of your bed, before clearing your throat slightly to reply. “No I haven’t, have you?”

“Nah, I was gonna go after my last class, if you want I can wait for you and Logan to get out of practice and we can go as a group.” Kate offered as you heard the water from the sink start to run, probably Kate doing her skincare.

“Yeah, I'm down, I’ll ask Logan later.” You smiled, the thought of doing so silly yet mundane as going to Spirit Halloween to look at costumes and having each other set off the display animatronics in the store would help you calm down from the stress of the past two months and the anxiety you were feeling for the upcoming few days.

“Yay!” Kate squealed in excitement, causing you to chuckle at her reaction as the water from the skin was shut off, before she walked out with a big grin on her face, her hands still rubbing her moisturizer into her neck.

—

“I think I'm gonna be a vampire.” Logan said as he grabbed a random costume package with his free hand, the other one holding a pumpkin spice latte, the one he insisted on buying for you, him and Kate, saying it would go with the “fall activities vibes” if you guys weren’t drinking the lattes while costume shopping.

“Mmm,” Kate hummed as she took a quick sip of her own latte, her hand coming up to wipe some of the liquid that started to run down her chin due to how quickly she brought the drink back down. “I thought we should all wear matching costumes this year.” She smiled as she looked at you and Logan, her expression brightening at the thought.

You let out a snort, a hand coming up to cover your smile as you let out a small giggle at the thought of you three matching. “What are we going to do then? I don’t think there’s a lot of 2 girls and 1 guy costumes out there.” You point out, your hand coming down from covering your mouth, also taking a sip of your drink.

“I’ve already convinced my boyfriend to do one with us.” Kate said in almost a smug attitude, seemingly proud of herself for already having this whole thing planned out before you and Logan could get a chance to agree. “We should go as the teen titans.” She added, being a big fan of the show since her boyfriend made her watch it last year.

Logan gave her a confused look, “Aren’t there 5 of them? We’d still be missing a person.” He pointed out as he placed the vampire costume back where it was hanging before he grabbed it. Your eyes travel back to Kate, watching her excitement falter slightly.

“Shit… you’re right.” Kate mumbled before letting out a groan. You gave her a sympathetic pout, your hand going up to her shoulder in a playful attempt to give faux comfort, before her face lit up once more, Logan and you exchanged a knowing smirk. “Oh I know! His roommate! Boom that’s 5! So you guys in?” She asked, but you and Logan both knew resistance was futile when Kate had something on her mind, no matter how much you’d protest, she’d find a way to get her way regardless.

You let out a sigh, before nodding your head, the ends of your mouth twitching up into a small smile. “Okay, okay.” You say with a giggle, your smile widens when Kate starts to jump up and down while letting out a small squeal from joy and excitement.

“Hey hey, I didn’t agree to this.” Logan said after a beat, crossing his arms. His words and body language instantly made Kate stop her little celebration.

“Wh-“ she stuttered, her eyes widened and her bottom lip trembled slightly, she almost looked like a kicked puppy. You were about to turn towards Logan and hit him on his arm, when he started to laugh at her expression.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. I’ll do it.” He smirked, taking a sip of his latte.

—

With the costume planning out of the way, you were slightly more at ease, despite the small amount of importance that it was compared to what else you had going on, the ability to cross it off your to-do list gave you some more sense of control with life regardless. Kate had decided to take up the responsibility to buy everything and all you had to do was wear the costume when it was time for the Halloween parties that was set to happen on frat row at the end of the month, most likely going to end up jumping from one party to another.

Pushing the thought to the back of your mind as you put on your skates, Logan was a bit preoccupied trying to get a number from one of the new members of the figure skating team, having only 30 minutes left until your practice starts, and knowing him, he’ll find a way to get it. You take off your skate guards and step onto the ice, as you wait for Logan and Couch Kavinsky to show up. Deciding to mess around on the ice while you wait, marking your moves for the short program when you heard a nickname you haven’t heard in a while.

“Hey Ice princess.” God who knew 3 words could make you feel like you were losing all ability to function like a human being, you almost lost your balance as you come to a stop and face the source of the voice, your train of thought did stop though, and your ability to talk was thrown out the window as well. You look like a deer caught in headlights, Miguel would have thought it was cute if it was for the pit of anxiety he felt in his stomach as he walked to the edge of the rink, but not getting in. If Miguel told himself from a few years ago that he gets nervous around you, hell, if he told himself from 2 months ago he felt nervous around you, he’d laugh in his own face. Yet here he was, standing in front of the girl he’s been thinking nonstop about despite the fact you had ghosted him after the kiss, butterflies in his stomach that he’s desperately trying to stomp dead. Trying.

It wasn’t working.

“Hey…” You finally managed to finally spit out, although your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “You know it’s Monday right? We have the ice till 5.” You managed to say a bit louder, finding more confidence in your words, your arms crossing in front of your chest. You watched as Miguel stepped onto the ice, you didn’t even notice that he had his skates on, and made his way towards you. The fact he was currently ignoring your question was pissing you off a little, but you decided not to speak on it. Miguel finally came to a stop once he was in front of you, giving you a quick look over as a smirk formed on his face, one he would always give you before saying some rude or sarcastic remark, you let out a short huff of air through your nose, your lips formed into a thin line, as your eyebrows scrunched together. “If you’re gonna say something rude, I’m not in the-“

Your words quickly stopped coming from your lips when you felt a sudden pressure on them, a sudden pressure from Miguel’s lips. This wasn’t the first time he pulled a sneak attack kiss on you, but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t make your brain short circuit and your heart to bang against your ear drums. Your eyes fluttered shut as he wraps his arms around you, one around your waist and the other on your back, you found yourself kissing back without even realizing it, as you bring your hands up to his chest. This kiss was a lot different from the first one, the first time, it was heated, it was sloppy, it was almost animalistic, all the pent up aggression and frustration between the two of you being released through the make-out session, it was almost like a hatefuck, with out the actual fucking. It was a bit closer to the second smaller kiss he gave you after the make-out session, loving? Was that the right word? It was soft, gentle, warm, yet loving didn’t feel like the right description for what you felt for each other. You didn’t love him, and he didn’t love you…right?

His arms moved so he was now holding your hips, and despite the tender kisses he was giving you, you couldn’t stop your mind from running a mile a minute. You were in love with him. You couldn’t be, you couldn’t imagine yourself in a relationship with him right?

Wait.

Relationship.

Miguel was in a relationship.

Fuck-

You swiftly push him away from you, causing you to glide backwards slightly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you attempt to catch your breath and your train of thought. Miguel just looked at you confused, wondering why you pushed him away like you weren’t returning the kiss in the first place.

“You-you’re-“ you stuttered as you shook your head, your body feeling on fire despite the air conditioning blasting about you two. “Um ... you should go ...my coach is gonna be here soon…” you managed to spit out after a few seconds, glancing at the time, then dropping your gaze to the floor, your gloves hand coming up to nervously scratch at your cheek.

“(Y/N)-“ he starts to say your name but was stopped when the double doors opened up, you glanced up and saw Logan coming in with a smile on his face (mostly likely from him successfully getting the phone number) but the smile drops slightly and his pace slows down a bit as he give you a confused look.

“What are you doing here O’Hara? We’ve got the rink til 5.” Logan said to him as he neared the ice, Miguel didn’t answer, rather he just shook his head and made his way off the ice, but not before giving you one more quick glance as he skates past Logan who’s now on the ice. You didn’t really catch much of it, but the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your spine.

You blamed it on the air conditioning.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @miguel-ohara-eater @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio

[sniigura-archive]

Rivals to lovers Adam x Reader

Adam is, somehow, the top of the class. Which was your spot until he randomly transferred over. Now, you need this to get a scholarship. You’re not going to get some nepobaby steal this from you. Not when you’re so close.

But he also needs it. To prove to Chuck that he’s worthy of his love. He needs that approval. Just once.

Now you two are constantly glaring at each other, one upping the other, and maybe debating a bit too close and oops you’re kissing oh no ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But it’s just hate fucking. Sorta. Adam thought you were so fucking hot. With a body like that and the brains to match? Fuck yes.

That’s another reason he likes to fight with you. To rile you up. And to show off. But mostly because you look hot as fuck when you’re all pissy. Makes him want to shut you up and fuck you until you can’t think straight.

And if he does? He’ll tease you so hard. “Aw, where’s that big brain of yours? If you can’t think straight now, how could you possibly be top? Maybe you should just let me do it. Make it all go away”

Tries to turn you into a housewife

adam is the typ of guy who desperately wants to domesticate a girl. the wilder the better and then he gets her into his hands and suddenly that’s his little wife who stays home with the children. feel free to hit him

he’s such an horrible academic rival he’s so annoying 😭😭

[chaconnenha]

idk if you do these sorta things, but if you do then can i ask for moots as love tropes with their biases?

if not just ignore this :3

ooooooh i haven’t done this before but i rlly wanna try!! thanks for sending this!! imma do it for only a few of my moots who i immediately think of a trope for since it's easier for me that way--might add more when i think of them ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

@mxxninthesky yes i'm starting with you selene!! you give me major academic rivals to lovers vibes for some reason... since you may or may not be currently simping over jungwon, imagine you and jungwon always fighting for the top grades, but ends with him smirking whenever he gets a higher grade than you... but to everyone it just seems you have major tension and are like "stop competing and kiss already" >.<

@dollyyun love triangle for my wifey ruby ngl. specifically, a love triangle between best friends heejake, who make it their mission to see who can make you fold the fastest. it's literally their tradition, where they choose a sweet girl every year, lead her on for a bit, and then regardless of who she chooses, she always ends up heartbroken... until you get them both to fall hard af for you, maybe even fight a little for you (but then they agree to share you yayyyy) ^^

@flwrstqr danielle gives me brother's best friend vibes. like her crushing super hard on her older brother's best friend heeseung since they meet because he's just so sweet to her, helping her with homework, tying her shoelaces, patting her head when she's done something good. he's just too soft with her. and she is down bad for him.

@cupidhoons sunshine x sunshine protector for my bb liz, with a sunghoon who always looks really cold, but immediately becomes warm and soft whenever he's around her, because of her cute smile and cute little habits (sorry liz but ur so cute like stop) getting cuteness agression and clenching his hands into fists bc he just wants to pinch your cheeks so badly... but also, will throw hands when someone talks badly about you ugh i want that.

@lovelypham mina is the good girl x bad boy trope and i will die on that hill. like her being all sweet and cute, and jake thinking he's gonna have fun by messing around with her, and flirting with her, only to realise he's down down bad. people start to notice the way he doesn't go out to the club as much, stops messing around with women, and basically grows up, and it's all because he's whipped for his only girl <3

[cygninae]

I was just stalking through all of my old WIPs, and so here's a comprehensive list (that no one asked for) of all the ASOUE fanfictions I scrapped:

A character study on Quigley Quagmire, focusing on his upbringing, him being a 'problem child', him being diagnosed with ADHD and depression, etc.

A character study on Quigley experimenting with gender roles: a sort of 5 + 1 thing of them coming to terms with gender non-conformity

A Quiglet oneshot of Violet doing Quigley's makeup.

A character study/Quigley-centric fic that focused on his insomnia and how he'd already discovered the tunnel system under their house from his late-nights wandering the mansion

A dunklaus fic where Duncan was covering a story about Klaus, a reclusive artist who gifted his art rather than selling it. Duncan gets a little too involved.

A dunklaus AU fic where Duncan took a job as the Baudelaire's gardener

A dunklaus + Quiglet + Beamony AU set in WW2

A Viodora fic that was just a collection of Isadora's poetry written across the time she got to know Violet

A dunklaus au where they were both university professors

Dunklaus fake-dating AU where they pretend to date to get Violet off Klaus' back about getting over Fiona and finding love again

A Quiglet one-shot character study from Quigley's POV, him moving on from Violet

A Dunklaus AU taking inspiration from Anne of Green Gables (1800s setting, academic rivals, accidentally starting VFD)

A dumb modern Quiglet AU where they meet at a concert, Violet realises Sunny has run off, and her and Quigley have to find her. They bicker a lot because they disagree on which album is their favourite artist's best one

A Dunklaus post-canon fic where Klaus becomes a famous author under a nom de plume and Duncan stumbles across one of his books that is about him

Quiglet post-canon fic where the Baudelaires find Quigley after he failed to save his siblings

(Actually finished, just never posted it because it's rubbish) Dunklaus sorta reincarnation oneshot where Duncan works in a museum and Klaus is an immortal being who consistently is his muse in every lifetime. One of Duncan's favourite marble statues in the gallery was actually created by him, for Klaus, hundreds of years before but he doesn't remember until he sees Klaus again

Dunklaus oneshot where the whole group attended an actual boarding school. No olaf or anything. Just a wintery plot-less thing

(Also finished, also too shit to post) Modern Dunklaus one shot where Duncan runs a record store with his siblings and Klaus comes in one day. Literally just everyone teasing the two for 6k words straight. (favourite excerpt: '“So, why didn’t you ask him out?” Isadora asked, probably aiming for casual, except the way she was leaning on the wall like she was posing for an 80s boy band poster, and the way her voice was just a bit too high pitched, meant she wasn’t being very convincing.

Duncan gave her a flat look. “I have had two conversations with him,” he said, turning back to the receipt he was marking and ignoring the look she was giving him, which solidly said stop being purposefully obtuse.'

Post-canon Violet-centric Quiglet one shot. Just Violet reminiscing and moving on

Dunklaus AU where the Baudelaires are exchange students from France to Prufrock Prep. Extremely angsty and absolutely nothing happy happens. Just wanted to exercise the French Baudelaires headcanon

(Alot of this one was already written) Dunklaus AU where they're partnered up for a VFD mission

Quiglet magical AU where Quigley is a magical creature that lives in the woodland behind Monty's house where Violet and Klaus move after they're orphaned

Dunklaus and Quiglet (but not the main focus) - AU where the Baudelaires leave with Lemony after the fire at Hotel Denouement and become increasingly morally grey. When they reunite with the Quagmires a year later, they're practically unrecognisable from what fighting both against and with VFD has done to them

Violet and Klaus character study on how they deal with their grief; there was a little bit of Viodora and Duncan and some funny antics. The only WIP on this list entirely in French. Never posted it because there would be no interest and it didn't have a plot particularly

I'm pretty sure there are more that I just can't find or deleted but yeah...God there's a lot. These span over several years of being obsessed with asoue and ships in the fandom that I fell in love with that had (and still have) a painful lack of attention online, so I made my own content

[felixsmeshglove]

Hii I'm a baby stay who biases Seungmin and I've been on a total kick of reading everything with him lol

So could I please request

Seungmin (maknae line)

Gn!reader

Prompt: academic rivals to lovers? Prefer straight fluff with just like friendly competition/teasing but hurt/comfort could work too!

I'm a uni student and the only thing that is saving me is imaging stray kids at university with me lol

Thank you so much lovely :)<3

ooo thank you so much for requesting! i have been a little nervous to write for non idol!au type SKZ so bear with me, seungmin honestly rots my brain out so much so i get your obsession!

~~~~~

finals week - kim seungmin x reader

writers note ; for this fic seungmin and you are both in high school, you share a photography class and you both are just trying to get your portfolios done for finals week but seungmin just has to make it as much of pain as possible. not the most confident in this but feedback is welcomed

pairing ; college!kim seungmin x gn!reader

wc ; 0.9k

content warning ; seungmin’s an asshole™️ but in a cute way, angst if you squint, mostly just fluff, sorta enemies to lovers? more like playful rival to lovers

~~~~~~~~~~

your feelings for kim seungmin were… complicated. he truly frustrated you to no end, and what made it even worse was just how pretty he always looked. you always chose to put the thought out of your mind though. he was manageable enough last year when in normal classes but this year for some reason you’d chosen photography in an attempt to fill in some elective courses.

much to your chagrin, you were met with the same big goofy shit-eating grin and cocky gaze peering at you as you’d entered the room. you’d even requested to change classes but by the time you had, it was too late to switch.

you were stuck with kim seungmin.

he always seemed so critical of your work every time, peering over to your computer as he watched you work on your various assignments.

“why did you retouch that, it looked just fine.”

“i can still see the seam of where you removed that.”

“are you really going to crop it like that?”

never outright insults, but just blunt comments that always seemed to itch you just where he got on your nerves. no matter, though. all of the interactions you’d had with him before had prepared you for this.

throughout the semester though, he never seemed to die down in his efforts to tease and compare your works. that was another thing of his that he seemed to love doing- he loved to brag about how much better his photos were. how much better staged, better edited, better subject choices.

however, he finally wore down to your breaking point once finals week rolled around. your professor had requested a twenty photo portfolio. each student was required to have twentu unique photos, also unique from each other. this meant students could not both have photos from the same location. it was florals for this assignment, you thought you’d had it in the bag.

somehow though, seungmin always seemed to beat you to your various photo locations, forcing you to pick a new one. you’d attempted the floral nursery? he was there. the woods out back behind the school, even past where the trail ended? he was there too.

it was finally when you’d finally changed your photo locations for the seventh time.

it was almost comical as you arrived to the park, and there he stood in his big black puffer jacket and school-supplied professional camera.

“ahh y/n! i didn’t think you were going to try to get your photographs from here! i didn’t like the ones i got from before so i wanted to try again. only the best portfolio can get the best grade,” seungmin said with a cocky hand on his hip as he held the camera with his other hand.

what seungmin was expecting was just for you to scoff and roll your eyes, and attempt to go back to one of the previous locations. however, what he was not expecting was for you to start to tear up and start to ramble. he could barely even understand your rambling as you ran a hand through your hair in exasperation and started to shout at him.

what he didn’t know was just how stressed you were about finals. all of your finals, not just your photography finals had consumed your every hour. you had no time for friends, for any leisure time. you were stressed, exhausted and just wanted to finish your portfolio so you could take one more thing off your plate.

now it was your turn to be surprised, as seungmin cut you off mid-ramble. he hugged you close, firm and comforting arms wrapping around your back. as quickly as he hugged you though, he let you go.

seungmin’s expression was far from his usual cocky one, his plump lips formed into a slight frown as he gave you a look of worry.

“y/n i didn’t know how much it was actually bothering you, if you’d genuinely told me to stop i-… aish…” he tried to explain, but every explanation he tried just made him feel worse about it. the young puppy boy had not intended to actually make you truly upset let alone start to tear up, but it was no excuse for adding to your stress.

seungmin really did like you, that’s why he always seemed to pursue you. poking at your sides when he could, standing just behind your shoulder only to whisper in your ear or surprise you. he thought you were so cute and so expressive, but in hindsight seeing you so upset was never once his goal.

“do you want maybe help you? i know of a few more places no one else will try-“ seungmin offers. you sigh softly and look down, you can’t help but fall for his sweet change in demeanor. even if just a little.

“sure… that sounds nice…” you said softly. much to your surprise, he grabbed your hand gently. he led you along the park trail, taking lots of care to point out various areas you could take extra stunning photos, of course not without snapping a sneaky few of you.

after all, the photos to him were only stunning if they were of you. you didn’t need to know that yet though, but soon. he just had to change his approach to support you more and bring you up. after all, he never once wanted to see those tears in your eyes ever again.

maybe then, you could forgive him. maybe then he could ask you out.

little did he know, you forgave him the moment you saw his face drop when he saw you so upset.

[inkydot]

Alsooo what courses are the crew taking?? Pretty sure Ryuk is only there 'cause his daddy makes him, or something 🤣🤣

Oooh!!!! Ryuk is definitely just there bc he has to be, no one really knows what his major is and I think he probably just takes random stuff, maybe mostly sociology and psychology stuff? I think it fits his interest in humans and how people interact well.

Rem I think would be either environmental science or nursing bc she seems to actually care about people sorta in canon (even if it’s mostly just cause she cares abt Misa)

Misa is getting a fashion degree obviously

Light is obviously getting a criminal justice degree

And L I think would be getting a psychology degree, probably specifically criminal psychology. As a result he and Light probably take a lot of classes together and this definitely fuels their beef with each other. I imagine they’re academic rivals since the entrance ceremony. and I think they’d both be on a debate team, which also just add to their conflict. Unfortunately for them they’re both friends with Misa and she *will* make them friends whether they like it or not lmao.

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: “...your house?” Rhys asks quietly. “Yeah? As in the house I grew up in? My room is upstairs?” At Rhys’s blank stare, she sighs, gesturing down the hall. “I live here? With my dad? “Your da—” Rhys stops abruptly, his eyes widening. “Your dad. Oh my god,” he says, burying his face in his hand. “Jack is your dad, isn’t he?” he continues, voice muffled. Angel squints at him. “Yeah? How do you know…” She trails off, connecting the dots.. “Oh my god,” she whispers. “Are you—oh my god,” she shrieks, and Rhys groans into his hand. OR: A college AU in which Rhys and Angel are friends/academic rivals, Rhys is dating Angel's dad, and it's all just very weird.

Author: @michaelandthegodsquad

[safyresky]

I want to say I AM INCAPABLE OF WRITING ANYTHING BUT FLUFF but we all know THAT'S a lie. I just. You're SO right about Valentine's and I've found myself thinking of blackice dynamic vs diteline dynamic and man, idk how you perceive Killian's relationships with Jack's fam, but in my lil head, Jacqueline was a little spooped by Kills when she was little, but now that she is MUCH older she absolutely adores him because of how he and Jack are. She'll happily join in their little tiffs and such on Killian's side just to piss off Jack, she just has a grand old time with it all and I love her for it 😂😂😂😂

MUSINGS ASIDE, Thank you for reblogging this AGAIN? I can't tell you how relieved I am every time you're like U DID MY BLORBO JUSTICE HERE. It's just VERY reliving lmao

If your Christmas prompts are still open, I wanna request #22. Holiday lights BUT! It has to involve Lucy in it. She is my girl :)

(25 Days of Christmas Prompts) (which yes, now that I got this one out I am STILL DOING! send them in if ur vibin!)

Lucy? LUCY? HELL YEAH. I stole ur blorbo too btws, I hope that’s okay given the uh, joint custody. IT’S MY WEEK NOW (/jk). I just think he neat 🥺🥺. Also this is why this took so long. I was so nervous about the blorbo, then i went into OVERTHINK M O D E like ‘oh god but now there’s not enough LUCY?!?! It was an experience. But then I realized THREE THINGS: A) Jacqueline ships BlackIce SO HARD, B) so does Lucy in my head at least, and C) if there were any two people to bully Jack into letting someone help, it’d be Jacquie and Killian lmao. I HOPE I DID THE BLORBO JUSTICE. ENJOY!

Holiday Lights

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call someone?” Lucy asked, frowning.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m positive! I’ve got it under control,” Jack said, dangling from the eavestrough. “This is all part of the process!”

Lucy strongly disagreed.

It had been very nice for Jack to offer to help her put up lights at her new place. Really nice! It was just. He wasn’t someone she’d have asked, personally. Her Dad would’ve helped! But he was very busy during the holiday season, which was totally fine. Lucy got it. Holidays made people come face to face with a lot of issues so, you know, therapy.

Uncle Scott would’ve been happy to help, too, but it was literally his busy season and she hadn’t wanted to add more to his list.

Charlie was on a hiking trip with Danielle for the next two weeks, and even though he’d have been able to just snap his fingers and poof! Lucy’s new place would be lit up (perks to being a Legate), the weather wasn’t going to stay this mild forever (Jack had assured her that snow was coming). She was a HOMEOWNER now, and she was determined to make it look just as cozy for the holidays as everyone else did on her street, before everything got all icy and cold.

And unfortunately for her, Jack was determined to help. Mainly out of spite, since when he had offered Uncle Scott had scoffed and that had started a whole. THING.

Lucy huffed, an errant lock of hair floating up, then down. “I can see if any of the neighbours have a ladder!”

“I don’t need a ladder,” Jack insisted, swinging his legs back and forth. “I just need to get back on solid ground and it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think you should be swinging like that—”

A sharp, metal screech rang through the air. The section of gutter Jack was holding onto had bent forward mid-swing, pushing him farther away from the solid ground he needed.

“—because of that,” Lucy said with a sigh.

“This is fine,” Jack said, even though it was most decidedly not fine. He was even farther from the roof now, and the actual ground was. A little bit of a long way down. “This is exactly what I wanted to do.”

“Yeah, no. I’m calling backup.”

“Please, Luce. There’s really no need! I just need to,” he trailed off with a frown, looking down at the ground. “Ah. Right. No snow. Well, if I just…” he lifted a leg; the gutter groaned, sinking lower.

Lucy sighed, puling out her phone and scrolling through her contacts. “Unbelievable,” she said, swiping right when she saw Jacqueline’s contact on her recent list.

It rang twice before the younger, not-as-stubborn winter sprite picked up.

“Yellow!”

“Hi Jacquie!”

“Oh, hey Lucy! What’s up?”

“You’re brother’s doing some dumb shit and refusing to let me help him not be dumb, can you—”

“Girl. You had me at dumb shit. I’ll be right over! I’m just in line at Timmies.”

“Timmies?”

“Yeah, you know. Timmy hoe’s? Tim’s? Tim Horton’s? Canadian institution? I’m in Saskatchewan. Huge polar vortex on the go and I’m babysitting it. Want anything?”

“Oh! Tim Horton’s! Can you get me that smoothie thing? The pink one?”

“Sure! Does Jack want anything?”

Lucy looked up at the Legend. She almost asked; almost. But then she remembered that his hands were otherwise occupied hanging off of her eavestrough, and decided that stubborn Legendary Figures who refused help to prove a point to a fellow Legend who wasn’t even HERE didn’t deserve mediocre treats from Canadian institutions.

“He’s good,” Lucy said. “See you soon?”

“Yep, see you soon, Luce. Hi there! could I please get—” the line clicked dead.

“You did NOT just call Jacqueline.”

“I did!” Lucy shouted back up, chipper. “You’re hanging off of the gutters on the second floor of my house, Jack! And you’re being really persnickety about getting help, so who better to convince you than your younger sister? Younger sisters can be very convincing. I would know, I am one.”

Jack groaned, throwing his head back. The eavestrough copied him.

A few errant snowflakes breezed by, Jacqueline turning the corner around the garage in her work clothes, slurping an icy, chocolatey looking drink, large aviators on her face. She stopped beside Lucy, passing her a pink smoothie and looking up at Jack with a snort.

“You didn’t get me anything?” Jack shouted down.

“Lucy said you were good, and she had a point! Your hands look a little full right now,” Jacqueline shouted back up with a shrug, Lucy laughing around her straw. “So anyway. What the fuck are you doing?” Jacqueline asked. “Lady above, I sure do love being in the human world,” she added as an aside, Lucy laughing in response.

“My best! Which, need I remind you, Mom says is good enough!” Jack said, once more swinging himself back and forth.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Jacqueline asked.

“Well,” Jack began, a bit gruffly. “There’s no snow on the ground and my hands are a bit preoccupied right now. I can’t quite hop down to the roof from here. If I keep doing this though, it should swing back enough for me to hop back onto the roof, and get that last corner.”

“He sounds very sure of himself,” Lucy said.

“That’s the scary part,” Jacqueline replied. She took another long, obnoxious, slurp. “I can just make a snow ramp for you! Or like, send you a wind!”

“I don’t need help, Jacqueline!”

She slurped again. “Lady of the Springs, he is being stubborn.”

“I know!” Lucy said, throwing her hands up, exasperated.

“How did he even end up. Well. Like THAT?”

Lucy sighed. “I don’t have a ladder. He said he didn’t need one and walked up the side of the house. He was trying to get that last corner, but we got rain overnight so it was all wet and yucky, so he froze it and—”

Jacqueline choked. “HE SLIPPED ON ICE?!?!?!?” She turned to the now very grumpy Jack, hanging away on the gutter. “YOU, JACK FUCKING FROST, SLIPPED ON ICE?! YOUR OWN ICE? THAT YOU MADE?!?!?!?”

“YOU ARE MY LEAST FAVOURITE SISTER,” he shouted back, the eavestrough groaning.

“YOU KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT!”

“He needs help, Jacquie. And he’s being so stubborn about it I called reinforcements. So what should we do?”

“He’s being such a wooden spoon,” Jacqueline scoffed in agreement. She slurped once more, sticking out a glowing hand. A steady stream of snow blasted forward, layering itself up and up and up, twisting and turning until it stopped just below Jack, glittering in the sun.

“JUST SLIDE DOWN IT!”

“I DON’T NEED OR WANT YOUR HELP, JACQUELINE,” Jack shouted back. He kicked his foot forward. The ramp fractured. The fracture grew bigger, cracking all the way down, smaller cracks shooting out to the sides, fern like fractals spreading out from the little cracks. The main crack hit the bottom, and with a loud POOF, the snowy ramp dissipated into a rather large snow bank.

“What is WRONG WITH YOU?!” Jacqueline demanded.

“What part of I don’t need or want your help did you NOT understand?!”

The eavestrough groaned once more, dipping down even farther. Jack’s hands slipped down a bit; he grimaced.

“Jack you are HANGING from a GUTTER,” Lucy said, hands on her hips. “I know you really wanna prove Uncle Scott wrong but don’t you think this is a little much?”

“No,” Jack said, the same time Jacqueline said “He definitely does not.”

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “We’ve gotta get him down from there. Being nice isn’t working.”

“I hate that Jack and Santa are trapped in like, this eternal pissing contest where they just have to one up each other every time,” Jacqueline huffed.

“We’ve gotta like, one up the both of them. Or like, maybe try a different approach? We could embarrass him, maybe? Roast him? Annoy him until he accepts our help? Maybe even be mean?”

Jacqueline’s face lit up. “I have an idea,” she said. She leant in close, whispering into Lucy’s ear.

The redhead’s face lit up now, too. “Do it,” she said.

“I don’t like your tone,” Jack said from the roof, trying to slowly climb his way up the eavestrough now. “What are you two doing?!”

“Oh, nothing!” Jacqueline said sweetly, pulling her phone out of her pouch pocket. She popped the pop socket out, twirling it between her fingers before unlocking the phone, and scrolling through her contacts. The metallic blue back of her phone sparkled in the sunlight, the reflection nearly blinding Jack.

“That doesn’t look like nothing, Jacqueline!”

She slurped in response, scrolling through her phone until she found who she was looking for. She smirked, straw still in her mouth, and clicked call.

“Oh my god, Hi Kills! You would not BELIEVE what dumb shit Jack is doing,” she said, walking away, as Jack felt the colour in his face drain as fast as the crap that had been caught in the gutter had sloshed on him when he grabbed it to keep from falling in the first place.

“She’s not actually calling him, is she, Luce?”

“Sorry Jack, you forced our hands,” Lucy said, shaking her head sadly and trying very hard to hold back a smile in favour of a more serious facade.

Keep reading

[raewritesf1]

omg the idea of bad boy max x good little princess george has given me so much gax highschool au brainrot. imagine super coddled george with say brocedes as his parents 👀👀. lewis tries his best to raise him to be #humble but at the same time he *is* the son of the golden prince of monaco, so lmao. george is a nice enough kid but super self assured and confident to the point it comes off as arrogant. so imagine pretty and posh george who is so uptight to the point of pain and wants to always be at the top of anything he does (his parents being the most competitive people on the planet only encourage his endless ambition) and enter max fucking verstappen who is all death glares, bruised knuckles, motorcycle rides and "what i shouldn't do that because princess george is there?" this is also low key can be connected to the academic rivals au you and lh anon were talking about lmao. cue like a group project or they're on the same sports team and then they start dating and they seem to just soften for eachother but it is a nightmare for everyone else including lewis who seems to lose his mind when his baby comes home smelling of leather and with a hickey. sorry rambles of the pro angst anon here.

lmao i love hall this started and contrary ideas and is now melding into its own little story. but anon don't see sorry for the rambling this is giving very much strawberries and cigarettes by Troye Sivan vibes and I love it.

brocedes are parent is *chefs kiss* 🤌🏾 cause Lewis would be his favorite parent but Nico would totally be the parent he is most like.

Lando the forever mutual friend drag George off to a party, and like they have some mutual friends and kind of knew of each other, but this the first time they're meeting and they immediately despise each other. Can barely get two sentences into a conversation without it dissolving into a argument.

Max: So were you born with a stick up your ass or did you have that shoved up their recently?

George: So did you copy your entire personality from outdated 90's characters because you were too unimaginative to make you own or do you actually think this make you look cool?

everyone else: (⊙ˍ⊙) um should we do something??

And the horror George experiences when he learns that he isn't even the top of the school because Max did slightly better than him (something Max ofc hold over him). But as the two brightest of their grade they're sent to this academic conference to give a personation and represent the school and they're forced to work together, and find that okay the other isn't as insufferable as they previously thought. And they maybe, kinda, sorta, start dating without telling anyone

And Lewis who already met and didn't like Max all that much when he came over before to work with George on their presentation is horrified when his precious baby starts sneaking out, not telling him where he's going, coming home late with hickey and wearing a familiar leather jacket. Meanwhile Nico's off to the side actively encouraging this because "they remind me of us when we were younger"

[ginzburgjake]

Statement of Martin Blackwood, regarding his encounter with a ghost. Statement given January 25th, 2017.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Sasha says gently. Tim is beside her, wearing a worried expression, while Martin is sitting on the opposite end of the table with a running tape recorder placed in front of him. His hands are wrapped around a steaming cup of tea.

“Ooof,” he sighs, bracing himself. “Alright, I — alright.”

“So, the day started as normal, I think — maybe it was a bit more cloudy than usual, but nothing too out of the ordinary. I took the tube, arrived to the Institute on time, signed in with Rosie, all that stuff. I came in, and Sasha was there, already recording, so I decided not to interrupt her and busy myself with my own case. I sat at the table, laid my things out — because I had to bring them home, you know, what with the mysterious haunting of this place. Didn't want to lose track of any more pens than necessary, heh.

I did some follow-ups, called a couple of contacts to check the details for, er, for that, that 'uncanny students' report? Yeah. So, it was about eleven-ish when I heard something... weird from the document storage. It was like… a whisper, or a call. A very quiet one.

Now, the thing is, that was far from the first time I heard something like that in the Archives. Those whispers, and sudden brushes of cold wind, I suppose, have been following me since, um, the middle of September. I’m not the most superstitious person, but I can’t very well deny the uneasiness that flooded my mind with every such… incident. Still, there weren’t any words being said in an ominous voice, no blood oozing out of the walls, no foggy mirrors, or, or anything, to indicate that it wasn’t just me freaking out without reason, so I kind of — let it be? I mean, it’s not like I could do anything. There isn’t a, a ghost manual or whatever, and you guys never noticed the things I did.

I must admit that I… am sorta fan of Ghost Hunt UK. I’m not big on conspiracies and deep scary mysteries, but their channel is — it’s honestly really good. They conduct proper investigations and stuff, and I know we as academics are supposed to, to despise their work out of principle, but… I simply never saw them as rivals. They do a lot of what we do — breaking into places, unearthing evidence, recording their findings — even if they lack the resources we possess. I’ve watched some of their content regarding old haunted basements, a while back. You know, the Archives are actually unbelievably good-fitting for the ‘haunted basement’ profile; the Institute was built in the early 1800s, and its structure has remained the same since. Despite there being only one exit, at least two archival employees have managed to vanish without a trace from what is essentially a closed room. There was blood found on the desk, for god’s sake.

I’ve emailed to Melanie King — she’s the main host — asking for her opinion. That was back in December, and I didn’t hold much hope for a proper answer. She must be quite busy, after all. But, surprisingly, she replied, uh, two days later? She needed more details — were there signs of possession or compulsion; have I seen, heard or smelt anything else odd or unnatural; was there seemingly a problem with electricity, heating or pipes that refused to go away, yada, yada. Based on what I’ve told her, she said it might indicate a minor poltergeist, possibly an Archivist, trying to finish their mission on this plane. I didn’t know whether I believed it. Anyhow, true or not, it’s a terribly sad way to exist, don’t you think? Permanently tied to your place of work, bound to fill out papers until the end of time. Ugh.

Melanie said ghosts such as these are usually deemed harmless, and unless I cared to confront it and discover its goal, there’s, as I suspected, very little that could be done. I wasn’t worried, not then. A disgruntled workaholic ghost? Pshh, just another strange thing about this job, right? Hah. And, well, today… today the issue became a lot more real.

As I said, there was a whisper coming from the document storage. I registered it, which was almost routine at that point, and waited for the cold to pass. After five minutes or so, its presence lessened significantly — although it hadn’t gone away completely. I had two layers of clothing on, so I was fine.

It’s — hard to remember what exactly I wanted to do? I know I went in to retrieve a box of files, probably related to the reports of… uncanny… um, skin people. I entered the storage — I held a reference file in hands, I think — and… there it was. A hand. Transparent, floating, detached from anything that might have resembled a body, human hand. It — it was kind of positioned where a person’s hand would be if they, uh, reached for something above their height. Which sounds ridiculous, of course — ghosts can levitate, can’t they? Or maybe I’m thinking of the vampires…

Anyhow, the hand, it — it grabbed a, a file from an open box at my eye level, and it pulled — and, and the file moved, like there was real physical force behind that gesture. I think I screamed. It was just so… impossible. There’s scary movies and books, and spooky podcasts that you listen to while going to sleep to shake yourself up a little — and then there’s that. I didn’t expect to see it because it shouldn’t have been real. I didn’t… I didn’t.

The next thing I know — I’m sitting on the floor, breathing heavily, with a very concerned Sasha crouching down besides me. She — she asked me what happened, led me to the break room, offered some tea. I turned to look back when we were exiting the storage — and there was nothing. No hands, no chill, no levitating objects... Just a bunch of dusty old boxes lined up in rows. I’m not sure whether I felt relieved or not. And, well, then Tim arrived, apologising for oversleeping, so that pretty much wraps up my experience, I suppose.

S-statement ends.”

< part 2 part 4 >

[marinecorvid]

2.21.23 (but actually drawn at least a month ago - and now posted 6.2.23) - some xy fic sketches. rambles beneath the cut

.

in my Great Fanfiction Rewrite of the (X)Y plot because it was sadly lacking in some places, Calem/Xavier kinda sorta joins Team Flare! To be honest this isn't my 100% original idea, I saw someone post once on here somewhere how cool it would've been if your rival, frustrated with constantly losing to you, joined Team Flare in desperation to beat you. I have taken this concept and am running with it. Xavier in my story Did Not take kindly to losing the Mega Ring to Yvonne: a rookie trainer, a girl, a girl who doesn't fall into his preconceived notions of what a young female trainer should be like, a girl he initially assumed he would be in a relationship with and he'd be the tough trainer in contrast to her contest abilities, someone from a poorer family from his. He gets uhh a little wild trying to prove his might makes right (deeply sheltered child who was never exposed to anything that would upset him syndrome)

In my head Y is the canon, but I'm doing a ramshackle combo into a tentative Z in which Yvonne and Yveltal fight Lysandre together, but also Xavier and Xerneas at some point and Zygarde is there too as a result of Team Flare managing to find BOTH legendaries (who in the anime were depicted as being right on top of each other) but only figuring out how to use Yveltal in the Ultimate Weapon. Xavier steals the Poke Flute and uses it to wake Xerneas (willingly or not - he's irrational, but IDK how down he'd be for the "destroy the world" plot, but Xerneas DEFINITELY uses ~fairy powers~ to fuck with his mind)

Yvonne has vitiligo! Dyes her hair blonde for the first halfish of the game, lets it grow out to its natural brown as a symbolic representation of not wanting to conform to certain beauty standards. She starts wearing very snazzy suits post-game, avoiding short sleeves and skirts

My HC is that Sycamore is her da! He and Grace were an item back in the day when Grace was in Kalos Rhyhorn racing, and she only realized she was pregnant when she'd already left. Sycamore didn't feel ready at all to be an active father, and Grace didn't feel any strong need to be in a relationship with him/have him be a part of Yvonne's life with a strong circle of friends and family who'd help with childrearing, so he stayed in Kalos and continued his work on evolution and Fairy Types in Kalos, every other month or so receiving an email of an update of Yvonne's life in progress. Eventually Grace's racing injuries/chronic pain is too debilitating to continue racing, and Sycamore offers his grandparents' cottage in the starting town. Yvonne knows her father is an academic/scientist in Kalos but doesn't know it's him, and doesn't want to know until she's more comfortable in the region. She DOES start to suspect though, but only confirms it mid/post-Geosenge crisis (haven't decided how long that's drawn out) in a hospital bed. Sycamore (after years of watching his daughter grow up from afar, and has become more invested in her life in the past few years) is delighted that she's willing have a familial connection

a lot of people draw Yveltal as a bird (super cool, no judgement) but it's very dragon-y to me with the hands/wings, kinda like how bat wings are just elongated fingers with skin between them. The logic of the tail eludes me though. It's Yvonne's buddy post game! As much as she does not want it to be her buddy! But when a super powerful ancient deity of death decides it wants to be your friend there's not a lot you can do to stop it. She warms up to it eventually. They have a fun time threatening Malva together

Korrina is a sports lesbian

Shauna slight redesign. She and Yvonne become an item around Laverre. In my story there's a cool Ren Faire-ish thing happening when they arrive and they both get a little tipsy and kiss and spend the evening running around in semi-accurate reenactment dresses giggling and dancing and giving each other wildflowers

Gogoat =)

[ell-vellan]

@the-grandest-plan I started to reply to you and then it became a whole post, so I apologize in advance 💀

So divorced is sorta the shorthand I've been using in my head to mean "they broke up and now they're definitely enemies but they still love each other, in their own way, though it won't stop them from destroying each other. Or will it?" lol.

More if you're interested:

I had an idea to write a Solavellan with a Lavellan in whom Solas sees a past version of himself: clever, cocky, idealistic, stubborn, proud, powerful. Knowledgeable of spirits and the Fade. Like himself before All The Bad Stuff Happened. She's good with magic but she also thinks she could kick his ass. And sometimes wants to. But she becomes a rift mage and tries to have him teach her, and that's when they start this friendly rivalry/one-upsmanship.

So she holds a mirror up to himself and also challenges his current beliefs, and I want to write this particular way they would fall in love, over intellectual debates where she holds her own with him and she educates him as much as he does her.

Then he breaks it off, as he does, and reveals who is truly is and what he plans to do. And she swears to stop him no matter what. It becomes her personal duty, her life's mission, to defeat the Dread Wolf for her people. She understands the way he thinks. She knows what he would try to do because it's what she would try to do. She is the only one who could stop him. She is his mirror, Solas if he had chosen a different path. She's the only one in Thedas who he let close enough to him to learn him. And she will use it against him.

But she still loves him. When she sees him in her dreams, watching her sadly from far away, she wants to both beat him up and make him come home to her. She is furious at him and will never stop chasing him. He continues to make his moves on the chessboard, actions he knows will break her heart and infuriate her. But they still love each other. And nobody can hurt you like the one you love.

I want academic rivals to lovers to enemies to redeemed villains to lovers again? I think. I want the angst and tragedy of it, I want Solas to get his comeuppance and redemption both at Lavellan's hands because she is the only one who can grant him either.

But I also want love to win in the end. So who knows!

Anywayy it's pretty vague after that because part of me wants to know what happens in da4 (becuase I'm willing to bet I'm going to want to write a different ending then they give us lol), but that's the gist!

As a bonus, have this collection of random quotes that have inspired me:

[scoopsgf]

hello hello i read your Lux fic and listen i haven't watched the whole show (just 2 seasons and then i took a break) and i loved it so so much like i kinda sorta know what happens in the show but i almost don't wanna watch the remaining because i love your version so much???? Like i already loved Jess and Jess x rory and then you set it in academia with all the literature banter and listen i loved reading, i was basically Rory (in terms of external personality) as a teen but i never took up lit in college cuz i wanted reading to remain my escape and my hobby and not my main career and also im a terrible writer but all their English classes made me kinda wish I'd also taken up English lit and had an academic rival to argue over characters and fall in love with??? Andddd god the tenderness between Jess and Rory and his friendship with the others but especially lane and that he finally gets all the love he deserves????? Also it kinda lowkey reminded me of a little life (ik that's grief on another level but the smart college kids with sad lives but happy loves and also discovering sexuality gave me those vibes in a more fun and warm way)

(ok i mostly meant to thank you for writing the story but this somehow turned into a much longer msg but anyway thanks and also if you could ever give a whole books rec list and/or publish original works I'm buying those without a thought, thanks)

I LOVE YOU. MY BRAIN IS MUSHY APPLESAUCE BC OF THIS. i don’t even know what to say this just made me so so happy thank you so much for sending it <3