#i actually took a class on it for a semester

[spatialwave]

"my ambition" - part three | the prequel

➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ word count: 4.5k ➸ tags: mdni! minimal nsfw, fluffly, poly relationship, relationship beginnings, blossoming love, s1 act 1, no mention of y/n, alcohol use. ➸ notes: so excited to get this out! had a fun time giving this relationship history and i spent way too much time overthinking whether the ending was too rushed or if it was too self-indulgent... and then i realized its a fic so i get to do what i want LOL! pls let me know if you would like more parts, or if you want some drabbles about this specific trio. i would really appreciate it.🥹

<- part 2

You had always been academically gifted. Rising to the top of your classes each semester, pushing aside anyone in your way. Especially for a young woman, who had been accepted into the Academy before you had even finished your secondary schooling – a gifted student with the proudest of parents and professors.

Born with an influx of ambition flowing through your veins, knowing from a young age your duties to the world. It took more than wordy false promises to make a difference to Runeterra, it took action. That’s why you vowed to help Zaun.

What better way to take action, than to help those who had been long forgotten about. You were smart enough to see the way the city had been tossed aside, forgotten about, while Piltover only continued to grow and thrive. There was sickness festering underneath, people dying because of the less-than living conditions and poverty that swallowed it whole.

There were many days when you wondered if it was too much, if you, as a topsider, could actually make a difference. Would anyone want your help? The bigger question being – how were you going to help?

Then, you met Viktor. 

That was when your ambition rose higher than ever. A smart, young man a handful of years older than you – a man from Zaun himself. The youngest assistant to the dean, a title that was hard to come by, and rather jealousy inducing.

You’d weaseled your way into his life quite easily, finding him in the halls and striking conversation whenever you could. He was polite, and good at slipping away when your attention became overbearing. You couldn’t help your over-excitement for a scholar from the undercity. Someone who matched your levels of ambition. Someone who was able to teach you about the place that had been nothing more than whispers and off-hand comments by your peers.

You fell in love. Quickly, and hard.

Viktor, too. It was your smile, your innate excitement, the genuine intrigue you had of him and how he was able to share the experiences of chronic illness with someone who wasn’t just a damned doctor – someone who understood the pain. How could he not fall in love?

Viktor found himself appreciating you more and more with each passing day, wondering when you’d sneak through the halls to find him to share your newest revelation.

Wondering when he could be expected to be pulled into a broom closet so you could ravage his lips with your own. He hadn’t been so experienced with romance until you appeared in his life, content with focusing on his studies at the academy. You changed the trajectory of his life—and so had Jayce.

-

”Hextech?” You raised an eyebrow, sitting on a stone bench within the academy courtyard and holding a half-eaten apple in your hand, “I don’t know. Sounds… unstable,” you murmured honestly, looking between Viktor’s eyes as he stood in front of you. You took another bite, the sweet flavour calming you.

You had to admit, as much as you were uncomfortable with this new scientific breakthrough, so to speak, you had never seen Viktor quite this excited about anything.

“Precisely,” Viktor said, eyes practically shimmering as he spoke to you, “that’s why you’re going to help.”

“No way,” you huffed, standing on your feet and waving him away, “you just told me that all the work got confiscated, how the hell would I even help?” You spoke in a hushed whisper, as if Heimerdinger himself was listening in to the conversation.

“Eh, confiscated is a loose term,” he said, taking a step toward you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You tensed at the touch, turning your head from his gaze and shaking your head adamantly.

You had morals, and perhaps you listened to the dean a bit too much at times. Science was incredible, but ethics were important, and the explosion was proof that it was an unpredictable type of magic. If Heimerdinger made the call that hextech was unsafe, a yordle with decades over your own experiences, then you should listen, no?

“It has the capabilities of helping more than just the city,” he urged, fingers tightening on your shoulder, “Please. Let us show you.”

Those words tugged at your heartstrings, leaving you conflicted as your heart yearned to know more. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily as your mind reeled at all the possibilities.

The first image to pop in your mind was the proper union of Zaun and Piltover, an incredible feat that no one could ever pull off. No more distinction between the two – just one beautiful place to live. Your dream.

Could hextech really be the key?

“Fine,” you sighed, crinkling your nose and opening your eyes, “but I’m under no obligation to like this Jayce guy, he sounds like he doesn’t know how to properly take care of his research.” You looked up at Viktor through your lashes, watching the way the corners of his lips curved into a small smile, “Why are you smiling like that?”

—

��Crank it!” Jayce exclaimed from his chair, eyes full of childlike wonder, as Viktor stood at the chalkboard, crossing through equations and murmuring about the research he was still properly acquainting himself with.

You, however, stood next to Jayce, chewing hard on your bottom lip as your partner agreed with his words.

It all seemed fine, plausible, even. Yet, you remained apprehensive.

“And it if it doesn’t stabilize, what then? Part two of the great blue explosion that destroyed your apartment?” You asked, eyes focusing on the man sitting, his honey-coloured eyes shining as they watched you. Your stomach twisted tight, hating the way he made you fill with butterflies.

You knew him for less than twenty-four hours, and he already had you twisted around his fingers. Gods.

It was completely unfair to be caught between them both.

“It’s worth a test,” he was adamant, then a sigh left his lips, “but we don’t have access to my equipment.”

“Which is being destroyed tomorrow,” Viktor murmured, eyes back on the chalkboard and fingers touching his chin as he was lost deep in thought.

You jumped when Jayce stood quickly, the chair he sat on nearly toppling over.

“What?” he asked, panic rising in his throat.

“Oh, yeah,” Viktor cringed, looking over his shoulder at Jayce, “Sorry. I meant to tell you.”

You could sense the way Jayce was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, his breath hitching in his throat as he rambled on about how it was his life work, how they could show the council the equations to show them the proof. There had to be something!

But Viktor was right, proof wasn’t reliable on paper. They needed physical proof. A real test.

“We can’t do it without the crystals. The enforcers took them all, they’re gone,” Jayce ran his hands over his face as he collapsed onto the chair once more, deflated from the situation.

Your hand rested atop his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, much like Viktor did with you when you were overworked. Jayce flickered his gaze to you, those puppy-like eyes offering a silent ‘thank-you’.

“Mhm,” Viktor hummed, “locked away in Heimerdinger’s lab,” he continued, eyes settling on you.

“No,” you were quick to know where he was going with this, “Count me out, we are not breaking in.”

“She’s right,” Jayce said, eyes widening, “you heard the council, if we’re wrong–”

“Better be right then,” Viktor interrupted, and Jayce’s eyes sparkled with possibility.

You felt a tightness in your chest, shaking your head as you took a step back. The two of them spoke back and forth, but you hadn’t been listening. Just as you reached the boiling point, you turned on your heels and took a step away, but Jayce was quick to turn his attention back to you. He stepped forward, hand grabbing your wrist, and you felt your heart jump up into your throat.

“Stay,” he pleaded, hand tightening.

You huffed a loud sigh through your nostrils, brows creasing together and lifting. Gods, why did he have to be so goddamned charming? You hardly noticed the curious look that Viktor gave you two before rolling his eyes and turning back to the chalkboard. The smirk on his lips well hidden.

“Fine!” You snapped, pulling your arm from his grip, “but if we get caught I’m telling everyone that you two made me do it. I am not taking the fall for this.”

Jayce grinned, a toothy smile that lit your cheeks aflame, “Deal.”

You stayed a few feet behind the two men, arms crossed over your chest, as you careened through the halls quietly. You were hardly a rule breaker, in fact, usually a stickler for keeping peace. It was in your nature, like many topsiders.

When the three of you reached the door, you felt panic rising as footsteps echoed down the hall from where you had just come from.

“Shit,” Jayce whispered, “hurry.”

Viktor was fiddling with the keys, fingers filtering through them until he found the one for Heimerdinger’s lab. With practiced ease, he slipped the key into the door lock, twisting back and forth until it clicked.

Both you and Jayce were standing side-by-side, watching a flashlight in the distance, pointing in your direction, but too far to pick up on the three figures breaking in.

Viktor opened the door, and they stepped inside, but you were frozen. Unable to tear your gaze away from the enforcer that had been doing patrols and walking right toward you.

“Ah!” You gasped when there was a harsh tug on your arm, stumbling into the laboratory and crashing against Jayce’s chest. Viktor closed the door behind you without even the slightest creaking – a perfectly silent entrance.

“You've never broken a rule in your life, have you?” Jayce smiled, eyes watching you with curiosity as you pulled away from him yet again. You opened your mouth to answer but Viktor cut you off.

“She is a law-abiding citizen,” he answered, supporting himself on his cane as he walked further into the lab, looking around for the confiscated equipment.

“Can you guys keep it down? They’ll hear us.” You whispered, pushing past Jayce. Annoyed, and thankful the redness on your cheeks wasn’t visible in the darkened room.

“Huh,” Jayce grinned in response to Viktor, walking behind you as he looked around the lab, “you’re not kidding.”

“Shut up.” You hissed.

Settling in the lab, you stood off to the side, peering at some of Heimerdinger’s books as Jayce scrambled to find the pieces of his work. You listened to the sounds of the electrical whirring as he welded the parts back together, lost in thought as your fingers traced over the spine of a book.

A hand lifted to the small of your back, startling you for a moment.

“Sorry,” Viktor murmured, eyes watching you.

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, smiling as you leaned against him. Silence grew between you two as you slowly dropped your hand from the bookcase. You glanced at Viktor, biting down on the inside of your lip in habit, “Do you think hextech really has the strength to help people? Like us?”

Those honey-eyes softened as they flickered over your nervous expression, and he nodded, “I do.”

With a deep inhale, you tried to let go of your apprehension to the situation. This was for the best. If you wanted to reach your dreams, you had to run over a few toes, right?

“It’s all here,” Jayce called from his spot at the table, pulling the goggles off of his face and turning to look over at you two.

Viktor held up a blue hextech crystal to you, one from the handful that was confiscated, and when you offered him a questionable look, he insisted with the forward movement of his hand. Slowly, you reached out and took it in your fingers, feeling the rigid orb press against your skin.

This was it.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek before making your way to Jayce, who had been looking at you two with a small smile.

“Here,” you said, offering the crystal with an open palm as you stood next to him, Viktor coming up beside you.

Jayce reached out, taking the crystal, but not without a lingering touch to your hand. Viktor took notice, a sparkle in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed as you watched in curiosity as the hextech crystal was placed into the machinery.

It glowed a bright blue hue, sparks from the crystal illuminating the room. You had never seen anything so beautiful.

“It’s time to crank it!” Viktor said excitedly as he snapped close one of Jayce’s notebooks he had spent time looking through the past few days, looking in front of you and toward Jayce.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He asked, growing uncertain as Viktor sucked back a breath and shook his head.

“Do it,” you interjected, eyes wide as you stared at the beauty of the hextech. The inner scientist in you couldn’t be tamed any longer, you needed to see what this could do. It was almost addicting, and you couldn’t look away. It had sucked you in completely, “you have to try.”

They shared a look between each other, swallowing lumps down their throats. Viktor leaned forward, pressing the button of the machine, and it began to spin. It gained enough speed that it created a constant blow of wind that pushed your hair back wildly – electric currents flying wildly.

“I don’t think it’s going to hold!” Jayce said loudly, the electrical crackling of the machine deafening all other noses, “look at the buildup!”

“The resonance will stabilize it, trust me,” Viktor returned, sharing a thoughtful look with Jayce, an attempt to calm him.

You, however, were unable to look away. You stared at the wild glows of blue, a smile on your face, and blissfully unaware of the enforcers that were making their way up to the laboratory after seeing the blue light shining from the windows of the lab.

Moments later, the chaos settled, and you gasped with a big smile, hands slamming on the tabletop, “this is incredible!” You exclaimed in awe, watching as it stabilized.

Viktor smiled to himself, his hand finding your back yet again, “told you it would work,” he said encouragingly, eyes flickering to Jayce, “all yours.”

“It’s never done that before,” he murmured to himself, unable to tear his gaze from the slowly spinning crystal that sent waves of electricity to the surrounding runes, “...alright. Here we go.”

Hesitantly, he reached to the button Viktor had pressed, twisting the knob several times, so the surrounding runes began to spin and orbit the crystal.

You watched expectantly as Jayce twisted it over and over, creating different pathways for the crystal to spark energy. You couldn’t help but lean closer, even when the out flowing electricity stung your cheeks.

What the three of you hadn’t expected was a surge of energy to blast out, nearly toppling you all and breaking the lab’s windows. Within the impact, you fell right into Jayce with a yelp. Strong arms wrapped around you as he reached for the knob, and you clung to him, face buried into his chest.

The energy was strong, and for a moment you prepared for the untimely death of three scientists who just wanted to change lives. How fitting.

Then, the glass from the window flew back into place, as though time around you reversed, causing a brief moment of respite and enough time for Jayce to push forward and slam his hand on the button. The crystal fell back into place, and you were all able to breathe.

Slowly, you peeled yourself away from Jayce, feeling around your face and body to make sure your body was still completely intact.

“Incredible,” Viktor beamed, smiling, “we need to try again.”

You and Jayce shared a look, silently agreeing that it was now or never. And for you, there was no more backing out.

This time, you took a few steps back, not wanting to be caught up in the aftermath of a worse explosion, but still curious enough to peek over their shoulders. As you settled back, you swore you heard sounds coming from the hallway, but it was hard to tell over the crackling sounds of the hextech.

Pressing your ear against the door, you closed your eyes to focus, and you gasped.

“Someone’s coming,” you told them, hands holding the doorknob tight, “you better hurry.”

Viktor took a few steps to the door, sliding his cane through the handles of the door so it was snug, “better than nothing.”

The two of you shared a startled gasp, the rattling of the door loud when the enforcers reached the door and began to hit it with force, kicking and yelling for you to open up. Heimerdinger was with them.

“Stop this lunacy at once!” He called from beyond the door, and your gut twisted in guilt.

A few more heavy kicks and the door creaked.

“They’re almost through,” Viktor said, turning around back to Jayce’s side, “no pressure.”

“That sounds like pressure!” Jayce yelled, working hard to synchronize the runes with the knob. He looked over his shoulder at you, who was now pressing against the door with your weight. With each kick of the door, you huffed, doing your best to keep them from pushing it in.

A rather heavy kick caused you to stumble, but you got right back to it, watching over your shoulder as Jayce closed his eyes and focused on the hextech. 

Your attention was pulled back to the door when the cane cracked, and you tried to push against the door, but it was no use. One more kick and you’d be goners.

But the hextech won.

The sound of another surge pushed you against the door, and you panicked at the intensity that felt like it was going to crush you, and then suddenly… you were weightless. You turned to Jayce and Viktor, eyes wide, as you all had begun to float up into the air.

After one more kick, they broke inside, but the surge reached them, too. They stumbled back, while you had started laughing.

It was incredible, absolutely incredible.

“Excuse me, underfoot,” Heimerdinger spoke, pushing past the enforcer and stepping inside his lab, gasping when his eyes landed on you three.

You were nearly touching the ceiling, floating with your belly to the ground and caught slowly spinning between Jayce and Viktor. Your giggles erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to control it as you twisted around in the air. 

Jayce flicked a piece of metal, where it floated through a glowing blue orb that was just above you, and it shot out right at Viktor. You collectively gasped, taking everything in.

This was magic and science blurred together, a medley of perfection. Hextech worked. You did it!

“Will you please stop hovering?” Heimerdinger spoke, looking up as you spun your body around, touching and prodding at debris.

It was like swimming, you were able to push yourself, and you accidentally collided against Jayce, the two of you sharing a laugh. You couldn’t quite place it, but as your eyes caught his, you felt something – like a mutual intrigue of each other. Was attraction too strong of a word? Your cheeks reddened, matching his own, then he cleared his throat and turned his gaze away.

“I’m not sure how to do that, sir,” Viktor finally responded, pushing toward you both and smiling as the three of you moved around together smoothly, not touching. Floating. Feeling free.

Like all things in life, it didn’t last. The surged power of the hextech settled, and thankfully it was a smooth descend that kept you three from any broken bones.

Viktor had been wrangled by Heimerdinger, only after a good verbal lashing that included you and Jayce. Blabbering about the rules, ethics and how dangerous this was. At the end, your partner had been whisked away for damage control, trying to explain everything and to keep any of you three from penalties and punishments.

It left you and Jayce to clean up, gathering everything together into the back area of the lab, still in awe over everything that had happened.

Once finished, you stepped out into the brisk night air first, somehow still chipper enough to bounce down the steps while Jayce hustled behind you. You hadn’t been so inclined to do goodbyes, but he stopped you with a hand on your wrist, much like earlier. It sent a shiver up your arm.

“Wait,” he said, and you faced him, battling the redness that crept up your neck as you tried to remain composed, “will you stay?” he asked, grip loosening on your wrist, “to help us, I mean.”

“With the hextech? Of course,” you answered, rolling your eyes playfully, “Who in their right mind would see that and not want to explore it? That was incredible, Jayce. You should be really proud of yourself.”

A smile lifted at the corners of his cheeks, the compliment doing wonders to the insecurities that lie deep within him.

“Wanted to make sure,” he eventually said, dropping your wrist as you both ventured away and into Piltover, toward your homes, “I like you. Well, I mean – you’re good to have around. Smart, you know.”

A giggle bubbled up, a hand lifting to your mouth to try to stifle it, “you’re a dork, just like Viktor.”

Jayce smiled at you, biting down on his bottom lip as the two of you ventured down the streets together, “how long have you two been together?”

The question was quick to fluster you as you met Jayce’s curious gaze. You wondered if the question accidentally slipped out, and you could ignore it, but you could tell he was waiting for an answer.

“Oh, uh, just a couple of months. Officially.” You answered shyly, hands clasped behind your back as you walked side-by-side.

“That’s nice,” he murmured, “...so, has he always been so absurdly intense about science? Don’t get me wrong, I like everything about his ambitions, he’s a great guy for even wanting to help me. He’s just—“

“Surprisingly eccentric?” You laughed, nodding, “when he gets excited about something, it’s like his brain goes haywire. I suppose that’s the way of being an ambitious innovator”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Jayce smiled, quietly admiring you in the moonlight. Studying and memorizing everything he could.

The two of you ended up walking around aimlessly, indulging in small chatter as you shared your hopes and dreams. You shared nearly everything you could about your life, and he told his story about him and his mother, and how that sparked his discovery towards hextech. It was easy to talk to Jayce, to get lost in his voice – he was just so damned kind.

Nearly an hour passed when you finally approached your apartment, which was rather close to the Academy. The two of you had simply taken a few detours around the neighbouring streets.

“Trust me, if you want to get on the dean’s good side, then you need to…” your voice drifted off when your eyes settled on a certain individual sitting outside on a stone bench. Broken cane in his hand and looking up at the sky. “Viktor!” You called out, rushing ahead, “if I had known you were coming back to mine, I would’ve hurried back.”

He turned to look at you two, raising a curious eyebrow and smirking as Jayce slowed his pace behind you, “I have only been here a few minutes, it’s all right.”

You dug around for your keys in your pocket, walking up to him and outstretching an arm for support as he stood. He could walk relatively okay without his cane, but you still enjoyed the way he would lean on you. It became habitual between you two.

“I should leave you both to it,” Jayce cleared his throat, giving an awkward wave as you two ventured toward the apartment.

“Why don’t you come in?” Viktor asked, motioning for him to follow.

You looked up at him in interest, figuring the two of you would be falling asleep the moment you got inside. Nonetheless, you went along with it.

“No, no, it’s late. I don’t want to overstay–”

“Come inside, Jayce. We don’t bite.”

Viktor was convincing enough, or perhaps Jayce had too much of a soft spot for him because he was quick to accept the invitation.

It ended up being a great night, the three of you crowding around your kitchen table. Drinking some nicely aged wine you had hidden away for only the most important occasions. You celebrated your shared success and discussed everything hextech, the possibilities and what you hoped it would provide. You shared laughs, especially as the night went on, and you had all begun to feel a bit delirious at times as the sun began lighting the sky above the horizon and the wine settled in your stomachs.

“Well, I hate to be the one to end the night,” you smiled, sleep beginning to win its war over you, “I’m tired and sore, I should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I should get back to mine, or, what’s left of it,” Jayce agreed with a dampened chuckle, eyes flickering out of the window to gauge the time with the colour of the skyline.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” The question fell from your lips much too quickly, unsure if it was your overt politeness or an underlying desire that lead it, “if you’re okay with that.” You shot your gaze to Viktor.

It felt like hours, but the few seconds you took to share a look said lots. A silent agreement about your shared feelings for Jayce.

“Sure,” he answered. A shy smile tugged at your lips, and your lover turned back to Jayce.

The man seemed a bit uncertain, and maybe a bit too tipsy to understand the looks thrown at him. His amber eyes jumped between you two, “I’ve intruded far too mu–”

“Stay.” Your voice mixed with Viktor’s almost too perfectly, in complete synchronization.

“Okay.”

The night became a blur. It was Viktor who had led you both to the bedroom, the wine clouding all judgment from the three parties and allowing you to just be. To indulge in each other without wondering what would come next. To allow yourselves to act on attraction and lust with nothing holding you back.

“I’m glad you stayed,” you murmured, lips lingering along the stubble on Jayce’s jawline. Viktor, who was behind you, peppered kisses along your bare shoulders.

“Me too,” Jayce breathed in response, hands careening your naked body and intertwining with Viktor’s fingers with they met over your hip.

“Let’s stop talking,” Viktor mumbled with a quick nip at your skin, the confidence in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Jayce wasn’t quite certain how he managed to be wrangled in by you both, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when, for once, everything felt right.

[daenysthedreamersblog]

SECRETS OF US - I

i knew it, i know you

it all changed for me and i told you

you had the wrong idea about me

masterlist

summary: you needed the fine arts credit to fill your schedule and finish out your junior year at university, but so did your sworn enemy coriolanus snow because of course he did.

warnings: swearing

paring: modern!coriolanus snow x reader

notes: omg so happy to have this out!! this story has been so fun to write!! i hope u enjoy!! it took me way too long to write this whole story out but its finally ready to have someone else enjoy it (hopefully)

You're staring forward with a blank expression on your face as your mother rambles into your ear through the phone. You chew your cuticle to avoid sighing or groaning at her, letting her into the obvious feelings of annoyance of the subject of her conversation; your father, your career, your school.

"Yes. Yes, Mom I know." You scoop up the iced coffee into your hands and make for the door. You shift your bag around shoving the phone further into shoulder as your other one pushed the door open. "I'll come visit for the holidays I promise." You lie turning around the glass door and smacking into a solid wall. Your coffee smashes to the floor and all over your feet, "I am so-Oh it's you." You glance down as your destroyed beverage, "I have to go." You hang up mid questions.

He glares at you, "Do you ever watch where you're going?"

"Do you?" You shove back inside to grab napkins to clean the coffee off of your ankles. You grab your now empty cup and toss it into the trash along with the wet napkins before pushing past him down the street. You don't even try to go and reorder too annoyed and needing distance from him of all people. "You owe me $6 for that coffee you made me spill."

"I made you spill." He catches up to you matching your stride easily with his long legs and you feel more annoyance settle into your stomach. "You ran into me!"

You don't even look over at him as you cross the street. "You should have held the door open for me like a gentleman."

He snorts, "You've known me our whole lives...when have I ever been a gentleman?"

"Maybe you could start." You take a left to head down another block your campus coming into sight. It had been three years since you had seen him, three peaceful years of never having to look at his aggravating face besides a rare sighting in the library, but what should have been a docile dislike still burned in a raging blaze of fury. You searched for maturity, for a sophisticated phrase to send him off, but he brought out the worst in you. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Schemes to plot in an evil lair?"

"I actually am heading to class this way too." He chuckles. "Has anyone ever told you you are a ray of sunshine?"

You smile sarcastically, "I would be a lot nicer if I had my coffee."

"So dramatic." He shakes his head laughing at you. You stop, looking at his grinning face. Three years and time had treated him well which only infuriates you more. He was taller somehow, his hair shorter and trained straight instead of those adolescent curls you begrudgingly despised. There was slight bags under his eyes no doubt from the start of the semester changing his sleep habits because you were the same, even more reason to be upset over spilled coffee. He looked good, and it made you hate him even more.

You decide not to respond, but pick up your own pace to put distance between you and your sworn enemy, but he kept following. You knew he had classes in this building since you had the same classes given he decided to pick the same major as you, but when you take a right down the stairs you believe he's simply following you. "You're being creepy."

He points ahead of you, "I have class this way too... like I told you." Your stomach drops. No, no, no this can't be happening. You reel on him eyes narrowed in anger watching his smug face slowly drop in realization as well. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I needed the fine art credit."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, "So did I."

You slap you hands against your legs in exasperation because of course you had the same curriculum with the same required credits. "You simply always need to copy me."

"Could say the same about you." He pushes past you and into the classroom ahead. It wasn't just a classroom, it was a theater. You had chosen this for the credit on your transcript because it was different than anything else you have done, you had a chance to prove yourself in something new, be the main lead if you wanted; gain attention, notoriety, and an ever growing boost to your resume. You chose it because you knew you would excel and exceed where others could not simply based on who you were and how you treated everything academically in your life.

Okay maybe you also figured it would be a fairly easy pass.

And so had you old Academy rival Coriolanus Snow.

It wasn't horrible. He mostly sat on the opposite end of the room as you and you barely had to interact with each other those first few classes. It had consisted of generic information, a slow introduction to the world of pretending, nothing too intense that you knew was surely coming.

You had the same major, political science with a minor in business, but you had had freedom structuring when you took certain subjects, carefully crafting something that never put him a few desk away from you again, thankfully you both never had crossing seminars...besides this one.

You and Coriolanus Snow had a long history together. You had grown up together, not closely, and not anything of note, enough to be aware of each other, but this growing animosity didn't take root truly until you both attended Academy together. You can't always picture how it started in the depths of your mind, but it had been there for some reason. You see snippets of niceties but that always seemed like delusional daydreams of a world that never existed, never could exist. You had both wanted to be top of the class, always fighting for the number one position, teacher's favoritism, student body president, valedictorian... It gnawed at both of you eating away at any form of camaraderie to the point anyone who knew you, knew you hated each other.

You glared over at him as he wrote things down in his notebook. You knew he would be attending University with you, you wished he had been dumb enough to not be accepted, but nope he was here, sitting a few seats away from you again. And of course the asshole had to be gunning for you here just the same.

"Alright my lovely students." Mr. Flickerman clapped his hands. "Now that were a couple classes in I want to go over our huge project for the year." You sat up straight, this was your moment. "I have written a play that we will be performing, and I'll be holding auditions next week for different parts." He smiled glancing around the room, "The final show won't be until the end of the spring semester, and as we go through it we'll be going over different techniques of line delivery and stage directions and play writes...you get the point. Once we're done you won't be able to view a show without analyzing it."

The class flatly laughs.

You smile after he dismisses you heading down to the sign up sheet quickly. You wanted the lead, you needed the lead. You wanted him to be so impressed he makes a reporter come down here to add you to the paper. Okay that was silly. Mostly you wanted your father to come watch and maybe see your more than just his pawn, that maybe there was more to you than his perfect molding. You wanted Coriolanus to be some boring side part with no lines that no one would ever pay attention to. You scribble you name down on the part you want and take the script copies home to practice and then you're heading back home to your apartment with that ever growing fire under you.

You lose yourself in preparing for it you barely hear your phone ring until it goes off for the second time. "Tell me you're getting dick and that's why you're not answering."

"I wish Clem." You run your hand over your face. "No I'm studying up for something."

She groans, "You're so boring, come out with us tonight there's a new place in town that has really good espresso martinis."

"I can't." You sigh. "Maybe once I land this part."

"Wait." She chuckles. "Part? Is this for that theater class you wanted to take or does daddy have you off doing side quests again?"

You actually laugh as you set the script aside, "It's for a class, for a credit I need." You trace the words absentmindedly. "I figured it would be different...fun. Nice break between all the other boring shit I'm doing." You stare down at the lines of your future male counterpart, "You'll never guess who-!"

"Are you and Coriolanus Snow in the same fucking class...again?" She sounds shocked as if the possibility of running into him had always been small despite the agitation around it every coming semester.

You flop back onto the couch, "Yes ugh he's obsessed with ruining my life."

"Surprised the building hasn't combusted from your two inflated egos." Clemensia jokes.

"His is bigger than mine."

She laughs even louder. "I'm sure it is darling. Well, I got to run, our car is here but you'll have to tell me how it all goes next weekend over these martinis if they're actually any good."

"It's a date." You smile as the line cuts off plunging you into silence. You shove the script away and stand up going to your fridge grabbing out the bottle of wine and opening it to pour yourself a large glass. You sit back down on the couch, curling your feet under yourself as you scroll through social media.

You find yourself on his page seeing his stupid pictures with his stupid face doing stupid things as you sip on your wine. It wasn't fair that someone so annoying was so good looking, it also wasn't fair that he was aging like fine wine. You chuckle into your own wine. You keep scrolling and scrolling through his pictures more of your wine disappearing before you neared when he was back in Academy with you. You pause on one of him with a group of the other boys. He looked so young, with his longer blonde curling hair, and a little grin on his lips before the cruel world could steal the light from his eyes. You're trying to zoom in when your phone slightly slips the red heart appearing on your screen.

"Oh no." You quickly unlike the photo. "Shit, shit, shit." You close the app throwing your phone across the couch. Maybe he wouldn't see it. You drain your wine, your nerves buzzing.

Your phone vibrates.

"Are you stalking me?"

It spreads out across your bright screen that sends adrenaline coursing through your thumping heart. It's a direct message from him.

You stare at it for so long considering all your options. You could lie, say it was your friend, a pet you didn't have, maybe you were babysitting or hacked! You could just tell him you slipped but then he would know you were looking through his old photos.

You could just...never respond.

"I thought I blocked you." Is all you type back. He didn't need an explanation, or your time and beating heart, screw him.

"Clearly not if you're looking through my photos from years ago." He types back too quick, "Reminiscing on the good ole' days?"

You tap your fingers on the side of your phone, "You did look so innocent back then, how deceiving." You're on your feet going to the fridge for more wine to avoid the three little bubbles going off while he typed back.

"What are you doing right now besides looking at pictures of me?"

"What?"

"Can you read?"

"Yes, but why do you care."

"Call it boredom..."

"Drinking."

"What are you drinking?"

"The blood of my enemies."

He doesn't respond for a while, so long you think this little game is finished. But then your phone goes off again bringing a blush to your cheeks as you read his message, "You wish."

You never type back, you turn your phone off and go to bed.

You avoid messaging him again the rest of the weekend heading to class with your head down. You blames the alcohol for even letting you give him the time of day. You take your seat in your normal spot grabbing out your notebook as a coffee slides across your desk. You follow the hand holding it until you're staring into his blue eyes. "Figured it's better than the blood of your enemies." He says finally taking his hand off of it you glance at his name scribed out on the cup by the barista then back to him, "And I owed you one from last time." You scowl at him, "It's not poisoned."

You narrow your eyes at him venom dripping from your ever present emotional fangs, "Just because we had a little DM session doesn't mean we're friends."

He rolls his eyes, "Can't you just accept one act of kindness and move on."

"I don't trust your kindness." You cross your arms, "It's manipulative."

"At least I can fake kindness, you don't have a nice bone in your body."

You smirk, "Only to people I don't like."

He glares at you, "Then block me." He storms off.

"I did already!" You lie watching his back as he makes his way to the other side of the room. You trace the letters of his name.

You get the lead...obviously. The play was an original romantic tragedy that Flickerman had constructed, you were surprised by his lighthearted nature he was able to produce something so solemn, something that encompassed what you had always longed for within romantic entertainment; yearning and passion; everything your life lacked. It didn't matter as long as you did well with what you were given, and you would. You had to.

Clemensia had kept true to her word by taking you out for celebratory drinks, and as your drinks clink with your friends you can picture the applause you will receive after the performance, the smug smile on your face as Coriolanus lurks in the shadow of anonymity. "You always were into the dramatics." Arachne Crane watches you over the rim of her drink.

"Well now I can put that trait to good use." You laugh taking a drink.

"How romantic is it?" Clem ask with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

You shrug, "Nothing crazy just some kissing scenes."

Arachne swirls her drink, "Do you know your scene partner? Is he at least cute?"

You racked your brain trying to imagine the rest of the class, for some reason the only 'cute' person that showed up in your imagination was Coriolanus, and that didn't seem accurate because he wasn't cute, he was annoying. "No idea Arch." You sigh, eyes wandering out into the dim restaurant, but your phone vibrates in your purse.

You glance at your friends who are engrossed in their side conversation before tugging your phone gently out of your purse. You chew on the side of your finger smirking down at your phone reading the name pinging on your screen.

Then its being ripped out of your hands, "Who has you smiling-Coriolanus Snow!" Arachne's eyes widened in shock, "'I thought you blocked me.' That isn't even clever and why don't you have him blocked?"

"Yes, how did he ever get through those defenses." Clem chuckles. You had never blocked him during your time at the Academy, it had never seemed important at the time, and after the whole direct message debacle you had blocked him...for about a day.

You snatch your phone back, "I must have forgot and he's in the same class as me, probably just wants to ask about a test or something."

"I did. How did you figure out I unblocked you?"

"Curiosity killed the cat, also I'm smart."

"So I'm the cat or are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, kitten."

Your head spins, he's teasing...right? "Then what are you in this story?"

"Whatever you want me to be."

"Are you flirting with me Coriolanus Snow?"

"Do you want me to flirt with you...kitten?"

You know your face is flushed, why did he text you when you had been drinking and can't think straight. Why was he even talking to you? He wasn't flirting with you, he hated you and you hated him and that had always been the status quo you both enjoyed. This had to simply be banter to get into your head, to throw you off, he's always been personable, smoozing his way to the top, sarcastically nice towards you; this seemed different. "Gross." You had sent the puking emoji for good measure.

You watch the three bubbles for quite some time, you actually begin to feel bad you were on your phone but it dragged you in for some reason, making it incapable to look away, like a horrible car wreck happening in the palm of your hand.

Until finally his messaged popped up, "Congratulations on getting the part, looking forward to working with you." He had sent a kissing emoji next to it making your heart stop.

"He's my scene partner." You stare up at your friends all joy dripping out of you. "He got the lead part too." Because who else in that room would have been capable if not him.

Arachne nearly spits her drink out while Clemensia burst out laughing. "Oh that is perfect."

"Who knows." Arachne states condescendingly, "Maybe it will bring you two...closer." Which only brings laughter from both of them as you put your head in your hands. This was bad, bad news and you needed to end it before wreckage could ensue.

Once the week starts you go into class earlier than everyone to search out Mr. Flickerman. This had to be some mistake, or game he must be playing at to continue to ruin your life. "Professor." You breath. "I need to talk to you about the play."

He doesn't look up at you as he filters through papers, "What about?"

"Coriolanus can't be my scene partner."

Mr. Flickerman glances up at you. "Why not? I think you two will be wonderful, you both had the best auditions for your respective roles."

You close your eyes trying to phrase it nicely. "We have a long history and-!"

"Romantically?"

You cringe, "Gods no."

"Then what's the issue?"

You sigh. "We don't like each other and I'm worried that will...reflect in our performances."

Mr. Flickerman pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you backing out then?"

"No." You stand up straighter, why would you ever give into him. "He should."

He laughed. "Good luck convincing him of that." But he saw the distressed look on your face and took a deep breath. "Look I suggest perhaps figuring your issues out, maybe this will be a bonding experience!" He nudged you with his shoulder, "Maybe it will heal old wounds."

You know you won't get anywhere, he's too caught up in making his play perfect for reviews and you didn't blame him. You turn around watching Coriolanus striding down the row of desk in all his wicked glory. "This is a new low for you Snow." You seethe at him. "I know you're only doing this to make me back out."

"Did you?" He smirked but for some reason its doesn't have the usual flair behind it.

You held you chin up. "No, and I won't be, but you will."

He leans down, closer to your face. "Is that a threat, kitten?" You feel the blush burning through your cheeks and he laughs at you. It's the first time he uses the pet name outside of your phone and you lose words. "Have fun trying though." He pushes past you towards his seat leaving you grid your teeth in frustration.

He was impossible, he was rude and narcissistic and-and you had to kiss him or else your pride would be in shambles. You wouldn't-couldn't back out or else you'd be viewed as a failure, a quitter.

You would have to kiss Coriolanus Snow.

endnotes: hope u all enjoyed this first chapter i had hopes the first chapter was longer but alas this is where we are at!! hoping you stick along for the ride!!

CHAPTER 2 coming 11/29

[yandere-daydreams]

black butler and homestuck are trending on the same day i have to edit my college-necessitated research paper on harry potter. what fucking year even is it anymore.

[lemongogo]

college … wasted on the youth (me)

[dawnthefluffyduck]

I think i doubt my ability to work faster under stress too much

[pettyprocrastination]

Reluctant Bride

Pairing: Ellaria Sand x Baratheon!Fem! Reader (background Oberyn Martell x baratheon!fem!reader)

warnings: description of war, derogatory description of women, forced marriage, oberyn talks lowly of the reader’s appearance and status because he’s angry he has to marry in the first place, Oberyn is a dick but he gets better, (this makes it sound worse than it is lol. Just lore building with angst and sapphic yearning lmao. 

Summary: Just months after the rebellion has ended, Ellaria Sand meets her lover’s betrothed.

word count: 1k 

_____

Ellaria was dressed in finer clothes than you on your own wedding day. 

Orange silk embroidered with golden serpents hugged her curves and fine jewels were weaved into her hair that your betrothed seemed content to twirl with his finger as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. 

You didn’t need to be told who she was. The beautiful woman by your husband’s side, you saw it plainly in his eyes. Love and devotion that could never be found in a marriage under the sept’s roof, but rather one made by affection and passion. 

Ellaria Sand was more of Oberyn’s wife than you ever thought you would be. 

But bless the poor woman’s heart, she was frightened. 

She didn’t want to come to his wedding at first. But Oberyn has all but begged her to, laying gentle kisses up her arm until he was mumbling his plea into the crook of her neck. 

“If I will be forced to wed against my will, the least you can allow me is the pleasure of having my true love by side when I am chained to another.” 

He always has a flair for dramatics, her sweet prince. 

But Ellaria felt it, as she entered Storm’s End by his side, the judgemental stares and hushed whispers when his hand did not release hers. She knew exactly what they thought of her without ever heaving to hear their voices grind against her ears. 

“He brought his whore?”

“To his own wedding, the gal!” 

“She’s a bastard too, I heard.” 

“That’s the dornish for you, debauched dogs, every single one of them.” 

But she would not flinch at their words, she knew she was a bastard since birth, Dorne may have welcomed it but the rest of Westeros had no issue reminding her and every other sand in the world of their place. She learned it well and wore it with pride. She was the lover of the Red Viper, a child of house Uller, the gossip of tittering lords and ladies did not frighten her. 

However, the Baratheons did. 

She would be a fool not to, truly. They were the ones that started the war, plunging the realm into a year of bloodshed and horror that their eldest son charged headfirst into without a second thought. 

Strong, dutiful, dangerous. 

As she entered Storm’s End, thunder echoing against its stone walls that made their grand home resemble a shadowed cave rather than a castle, she is reminded of their words. 

Ours is the fury. 

It had been the third child, who greeted them. Dressed in all black and face somber, he looked well past his age, like a soldier returning from war rather than the young man just coming to age as he was.

“It’s a great honor to have you, my prince.”

But Stannis Baratheon had suffered a siege while his brother commanded from the battlefield, he had seen the war just the same. 

His eyes, dark and cutting like a hidden blade, fell onto Ellaria, for a moment she felt as if she had come to an execution, rather than a wedding. Stannis looked at her like an intrusion, before bowing his head. 

“My sister is eager to join our houses with this union. As are you, I am sure.” 

Oberyn’s agreeance was slick with mockery, teeth flashed in a grin that made the young man’s face go sour. 

“There is nothing I look forward to more.” 

He had yet to let go of Ellaria’s hand. 

The pair did not separate until they reached the sept, a grand building covered in tapestries of every dead saint and alive with hymns that speak of love and devotion. 

Two things seldom found between husband and wife. 

Oberyn walked to the altar alone, but his eyes caught hers  in the crowd and he smiled. Even from afar, she knew him well enough to catch the twitch of his thumb at his side. That despite his anger and dismissive arrogance he loves to wrap himself in like a silken robe, he was at a disadvantage. This was not his home and nor were these were not his people.  He was in the house of the family responsible for the death of his sister with no plan for vengeance, but a wedding he was forced into, just like his Elia.

Ellaria’s gaze is pulled from her lover as the grand door creaks open over the singing, where their king enters, face still laden with scars of the rebellion, of his conquest, escorting the bride by hand. 

Robert Baratheon was large in every way possible. His presence commanded respect. Even in his formal wear the bulk of his muscle was seen through as he walked. The hymns dulled to a soft hum at his entrance, head turning as his eyes cut into the crowd before they landed on Ellaria and she froze in her spot. 

For a moment, fear clenched her heart. 

Robert had unleashed a war upon the realm when Rhaegar took his betrothed, he plunged his siblings into starvation and rode against countless noble families that now bend the knee to him. He caved in the chest of the silver-haired dragon prince himself, severing the three headed dragon with his war hammer until there was nothing left of it’s legacy than two eggs, lost to the wind. 

And here she stood at his sister’s wedding, the proud lover of her betrothed. 

There’s a brief moment where she wondered if he was going to say something. Shout an order for her to be escorted out for being so bold to be at the union, but then a hand squeezed his and he pulled away from her gaze to yours. 

“Don’t.” Barely a whisper that only he could hear. No question nor plea, but an order. 

One the Usurper obeys without resistance. 

Ellaria had never seen you in person before. But Oberyn had painted a foul picture of you the moment your betrothal was confirmed to still be held after the rebellion. He spoke of your sneer and the way your lips puckered into a sour pout each time somebody spoke to you, your eyes were flat and empty of any emotion. 

“If it weren’t for her skirt I wouldn’t know which one I was marrying.” Oberyn jested as he lifted a goblet of wine to his lips. “Her or Stannis.” 

Ellaria watched you walk down the aisle to her lover, struck by your beauty. 

A hood sat atop your head that fell to embroidered lace covering your shoulders, her eyes found a stray curl that dangled by your face and wondered what it would feel like under her finger tips. Dark eyes flick over to her own if only for a second and she felt herself stopped once more, not with fear. 

But desire. 

You continued forward and she watched you walk down the aisle to the awaiting prince. 

A strong nose frames the soft line of your features, shoulders drawn back and head held high like a queen to be worshiped or a painting to be admired. 

You were regal. Looking more like a crowned ruler than the king by your side.

Your voice did not waver during your vows, she wondered if you were frightened. Any woman would be. To marry a man who loathed her family for a death you had no part in. 

But you didn’t let it show. Instead the promise to be a loyal wife echoed through the sept before you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Oberyn’s, who was just as stiff as you. 

As she watched the first kiss of an unwanted marriage, Ellaria’s chest filled with envy of her beloved prince. 

[apricotronin]

SoH Memes pt 15

[alliluyevas]

looking at course selection for next semester (already???). one thing i miss about undergraduate is that the requirements were so much less specialized and you could take things across a broader range of interests. obviously that is the point of grad school and i have decided to focus on 19th century america and i'm not upset about that but I'm also like. i wish i could take readings in the history of the catholic church or cultural memory in early islam.

[selfcarecap]

I’m soo over all my literature classes already I love literature but I literally want the professor to die and I have her for all three lit classes

[seilon]

love when this is referred to as the gifted kid website. shockingly my mental disorders made me mentally disordered and school never really vibed with that so. couldn’t be me

[bunnybisexual]

i wish i was able bodied so i could take a dance class that would be so fun i think

[cinematicnomad]

it's like a decade+ later but i really am convinced that my queer lit professor had a crush on me in undergrad and really, fuck me for not realizing i was bi earlier bc i would have pounced on that.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Sometimes I forget I have a sociology degree and then I have a subject like this one, where I'm debating (in favor of) the importance of cultural competency in health care, and then I'm like oh yeah. I'm actually semi-qualified to speak on this subject.

[prince-of-orchids]

Oh to be part of your security detail as we travel to and from a neighboring kingdom. We stop to make camp during the journey. Oh to volunteer myself when you say you'd like some privacy to wash in the nearby stream. We can't have you *completely* alone, now can we. What if some big, strong beast got ahold of you. You'd be utterly defenseless. Worry not, your majesty, I shan't leave your side, loyal as I am, but I dare not peek.

Following you deeper into the woods, casting my eyes towards you as you undress in the moonlight. Watching your skin glisten with drops of water in the dark. I can hardly control myself. I think of the fairy tales that speak of beautiful nymphs who bathe in ponds and streams and curse those that lay eyes upon them. I wonder, if you caught me gawking, what my punishment would be.

-🪓

The neighboring kingdom is thankfully but a few days of travel away. And yet it still didn't take long for the hours and hours of travel to create an uncomfortable layer of sweat and grime. We've already stopped to make camp for the night, so surely it is of little issue to excuse myself to the nearby stream and clean up a bit. The safty-minded protest from the knights of my entourage is nonetheless to be expected, and your choice to volunteer even more so. You wear discipline well, and yet I'm sure I'm not the only one who's noticed the way you always make your way to my side while we're on horseback, or how at night you place your bedroll just a tad closer than a respectful distance. All under the guise of simple, dutiful protectiveness of course, anything else would be quite the scandal.

My gait is confident as I walk ahead, never needing to turn and reassure myself of your presence. The stream itself is serene, with only the light rush of water breaking the silence. Without prompting you've decided to stand vigil by the treeline, far enough to give some sort of privacy but close enough to respond quickly should there be danger. I reiterate the terms of this supervision to you, and of course you assure me that your attention lies solely on keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings.

It takes a few minutes to divulge myself of all my cloth layers. Typically, some attendant would be available to assist, and as I fumble with the numerous zippers and ties I'm almost tempted to call you over. But I don't. You've pushed the boundaries of your station before, harmoniously fitting your desires right along your unwavering loyalty. And so I wait for whatever snapping twig or rustling leaves causes you to shift your gaze in my direction under the guise of assuring my safety. Already I've twice noted the cursory sweep of your eyes.

The stream is deep enough to allow me to brefily dip under, then to rise back up and push the hair from my face. Thankfully the water is a comfortable temperature, borderline heavenly after days on the road. I happily hum as I cup the water in my hands and letting it run down my arms and chest. Stretching to expose the contours of my body as I run another pass of water through my hair with a sigh of relief. You know as well as I that I've never seen a hard day of work. Thus my skin remains a smooth pale canvas, only now dotted with shining droplets that reflect the bright moonlight and faint dappled shadows from the overhanging trees.

With just the rightly timed turn of my head I look to you. Oh yes I've seen you before with open eyed devotion before, just as I've seen half-lided lust. But there's a certain sense of wonderment there now that I can't help but ponder the source. A rabbit you say, just missed it as it ran beneath the brush, and you turn away as if that was enough to excuse being caught staring.

I was just finishing up anyway, and I trek back to the sides of the stream. I request a helping hand with redressing, and you give a slight satisfied smile as you approach. I let you drink your fill, eyes languidly moving across my body. When I ask you to kneel you do so with instinctual quickness. When I ask for you to remove the upper portions of your armor you follow through with purpose. When I tell you to lay back in the soft dirt there's a second of hesitancy before you're supine below me.

How interesting that you follow these directions with ease and yet earloer you could not avert your eyes for more than a minute despite my clear request. I am still a being of indulgence, and so I shall free you from your trousers and set myself delicately upon you. I've just cleaned up after all and it would be a shame to ruin that effort by frotting in the dirt. Having you beneath me with your hands at my hips for stability ensures I will remain as spotless as possible. And then I'd like you to take one last look because you're to keep those handsome eyes firmly shut.

You disobeyed before, and nows your chance to prove to me you can be trusted once more. You can touch any bit of skin you can reach, feel the rocking and tensing of my body around you, and hear every pleased gasp that escapes my lips. But no looking. I may greedily take in every facial expression and shifting of your body, I may even kiss it if I'm feeling so inclined. However, you must forgo those same privileges, and be satisfied with whatever touch or sound I'm willing to ground you with.

You roughly buck your hips with more purpose, seeking to press as much as yourself against me. To feel the warmth of the skin you can't see. It pleases me to see how you shift your head side to side. Unsure if you should lean away to expose your neck further to the biting kisses I place alone your throat, or to try and lean towards me and clumsily attempt to capture my lips with your own. Occasionally you'll feel the ghosts of my hands as they glide across your chest and your navel. They never stay long, always feeding into your constant anticipation as they lift up to find purchase elsewhere.

Will you still prioritize my safety, dear knight? To stretch your senses to the forest beyond, warey of outsider footsteps or the unshethijg of a weapon. Or will you instead fully yield yourself to what pleasure you can gather from my presence here?

[rasangan-raspberry]

My silly little clown guy graduated from Hazben Hotel to Buggy the Clown!

[orcelito]

I do find it so funny that I will graduate college days away from my birthday. Like my birthday is literally in between the end of the semester ("graduation") and commencement

It really will be like a joint graduation & birthday party for me lmao