#i always start actually writing my essays only a few days before at most but i always notes dump/brainstorm weeks beforehand

[gossippool]

writing a whole literature essay analysing cabaret and it's so fun. if only i had more time to do it (i have had weeks. i just could not make myself start it. i have no one to blame but myself)

[teaeodora]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[little-diable]

Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by. 

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to. 

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats. 

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest. 

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.” 

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by. 

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs. 

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then. 

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme. 

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church. 

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground. 

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.” 

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him. 

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes. 

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue. 

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by. 

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment. 

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know. 

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind. 

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n). 

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment. 

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n). 

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space. 

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes. 

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap. 

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn��t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit. 

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish. 

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.” 

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety. 

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.” 

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls. 

[fatalcults]

things left unsaid. 001

featuring. poly! marauders + lily x oc.

summary. meliora had spent the whole of her years at hogwarts alone. with no one to bother her and no drama to drag her day by day she found herself at peace with herself. though she never thought herself to get enamored by the hogwarts golden group towards her last two years, more so expecting them to linger and pry into her quiet solitude pulling her into something far more complicated. 

warnings. none.

reayna's note. hey everyone! this is the start of a new series i'm working on. i finally have some time to get back into writing, im still working and in school though so updates might be delayed at times. ill try my best to update biweekly. or at least a 2 chapters per month (if not more.)

Meliora Ackerley didn’t consider herself to be a complex person.

Naturally every being at their core was built in countless layers, intricacies of stories and emotions but if one were to strip her down to the essentials Meliora believed there wouldn’t be much to study.  

She always thought that if she were given a role in a book it would be that of a background character, not even the ones that heard and saw all. She didn’t perceive herself as one prone to intrusion in matters that did not concern her.

No, she saw herself as the shadow of a long forgotten page, present but unnoticed. Many might lament about such a role given to them but Mel liked it— adored it, even. 

Throughout her six years at Hogwarts, she had become an afterthought to most. Without trying, she slipped beneath the radar of the social network Hogwarts had, which was harder than most thought, given how quickly rumors about others spread.

Initially, her solitude had been mistaken for first year jitters in meeting new people and arriving at a new place but after many painful interactions with her peers she had decided the big social life wasn’t for her. 

She couldn’t pinpoint it at first, each hesitant interaction was met with the same quiet, awkward stiffness and soon enough people learned to slip past her in the corridors never lingering much to actually have a conversation with her, not that she blamed them. The conversations were just as difficult for them as it was for her.

Later she just realized, some people were meant to be alone, Not tragically or bitterly, just simply. It sounded sadder than it actually was when she thought about it but not everyone would be adverse to the big groups of friendships and tight knit groups here at school and that was something that never bothered her not even once. 

Meliora was independent at heart, she did everything on her own without help and found herself barely ever asking for it. Her muteness was not total, but it was selective in a way that limited her discussions from little to none and only in extreme measures.

So, she couldn’t hide the slight displeasure in her face and churn in her stomach when the Charm’s professor, Flitwick assigned her to write an essay with Lily Evans. It wasn’t as though Meliora had never had been paired with someone before, but most times, they barely paid her any mind, briefly discussing the assignment before working on their separate parts. She hoped the girl would do the same.

Meliora didn’t dislike Evans–how could she? She hardly felt anything other than indifference towards the girl but everyone knew Evans whether they admired or hated her. She was subject of the gossip of envy in half the school’s population. 

People like Meliora and Lily occupied entirely different social spheres and that’s why she couldn’t bring herself to be offended when Lily looked around the room seemingly confused after she heard who she was paired with.

After a few hushed whispers with another girl next to her, Dorcas Meadows, Lily’s eyes turned to meet hers, curious and assessing. Mel stared at her for a beat too long before turning away and digging her quill into her parchment.

The class dragged on after that, coming to an end when Flitwick finished droning on about the essay. As class ended, Mel sensed someone behind her. Tensing up, she turned to the side watching as Lily regarded her curiously with a look of apprehension before a smile overtook her face.

“Hi, Meliora, right?” Lily asked, her expression shifting from a look of kindness to a grimace as Meliora assessed her with a calculating unreadable gaze. The effort it took to speak felt like tiny shards of glass in her throat so she settled for an easier path, a singular nod and no response.

“I’m Lily!” Meliora already knew that. “We were assigned the paper together.” Meliora also knew that. Lily was met with no words from Mel as she continued to openly look at her with no efforts to speak.

Sensing the tension as Meliora’s discomfort became more evident, Lily continued, “Would you like to find a place to work? The library, perhaps?” 

Mel opened her mouth to reply but the words couldn’t escape her as she felt it clog up in her throat once more as she watched Lily smooth over her skirt. Instead, she offered her a nod again, turning away stiffly. 

Lily made a noise, one Mel was sure was frustration before continuing on. “How about tomorrow? After the Quidditch match?” Mel nodded quietly, her heart pounding as she packed her bag before stepping to the side of Lily and walking out the door. She faintly heard Dorcas’ voice as she left, “I think that went splendidly.” 

After the painful interaction in class, Meliora sat in the Ravenclaw common room, the evening light casting long blue shadows against the stone walls. She winced to herself, her fingers ghosting over the parchment before her, her own name and Lily’s inked at the top before watching as a figure covered her view. 

Standing tall, Alistar Rowley looked down at her. Alistar was an odd person, an enigma of warmth that latched onto her years ago. Even now Meliora could hardly understand why he stuck with her all these years.

She offered him little to no words and barely ever looked like she was listening. Still, he was the closest thing she had to a friend here, and none of her odd behavior ever seemed to deter him. 

She supposed it was comforting in a sense, he never seemed annoyed by her lack of speech and she never had to force herself to talk more than she wanted to.

He talked enough for the both of them, going on about anything and everything that came to mind. She became used to his talks even though she didn't quite understand them.

Alistar was charming and charismatic even she knew that, he could befriend anyone he really wanted to but still he never forgot about her, going as far as to leave his big social events and groups to stay with her in the common room or the black lake. 

“Why do you look like you have the odd case of the bugger in the belly? You didn’t eat something bad did you?” He asked practically tossing himself at the space next to her. Meliora offered him a look and gestured to the paper in front of her that scribbled her and Lily’s name. 

Alistar looked over before a grin curled at his lips, “You got paired with Evans? Not bad..” he said, already offering his attention to the fireplace in front of them. “Evans isn’t too bothersome so it shouldn’t be too torturous.”

Pinching her cheeks, he continues on not taking any offense when she slaps his hand away and sends him a scathing glare. “Don’t worry too much, it will be over in less than 2 weeks.”

Alistar Rowley was a liar.

Meliora sat at the very end of the library table, a deliberate choice that allowed her to flee if things got too overwhelming for her. The action seemed to be one of the only thing grounding her control on the situation and ease her racing thoughts.

The quill in her hand dancing across the parchment as she scribbled words on her paper before Evans arrived. After much thought and hesitation (and some delusion) she convinced herself what's the worst that could happen?. 

Famous last words.

The ruckus she was met with was more than she anticipated. From her chair Meliora watched as the doors of the library swung open, earning a glare and sharp inhale from Madam Pince that mumbled words about “rowdy students” and “lack of respect for literature and peace.”

It was easy to identify the bright red hair that followed in, Evans holding her books with a scowl on her face followed by Potter, Black and Lupin who continued their conversation loudly behind her. 

Meliora’s grip on her quill tightened. She had prepared herself for Evans not the rest that followed her, for a moment she contemplated leaving but decided against it knowing there was no way for her to exit without Evans seeing her.

It didn't take long for Lily to find her after that smiling at Meliora as she sat down in front of her. The bunch following behind her, James and Sirius still in their quidditch clothes although she thought it to be the loose t-shirts given rather than official gear and Remus wearing a worn brown sweater with his hands tucked in his pocket. 

“I hope you don’t mind” She did, severely. “These three are still riding the high from the match and decided it would be best to follow me.” Lily explains putting her books down, ignoring the boys and their noise.

She didn't seem to think much about the stiff interaction from the day before but Meliora couldn't focus on that when she was hyper aware of the way Sirius Black leaned away from the close proximity shared between him and James to sit just as close to Lupin.

She had heard about the relationship the four shared but she never thought much about it. It wasn't uncommon for them to be seen holding hands with one another or displaying clear signs of affection. More so Potter and Black who never shied away from public affection than Evans and Lupin who were a bit more subtle with their actions.

The silence between her and Lily seems to pull the others out of their conversation. James pushing his glasses up in a casual absentminded way as he stared openly at her. “It's nice to meet you, Meliora right?” She contemplated ignoring him to focus on her heart that pounded against her chest but instead nodded once, not helping the silence between all of them.

It stretched long and weighed, Sirius, who had still been lazily leaning against Remus glancing up at her with an assessing gaze in his grey eyes. Remus, for his part, barely spared her a glance flipping absently through one of the books Lily had brought, something she appreciated more than anything.

She didn't know much about them other than what was mentioned in passing by Alistar but she did feel uncomfortable with the way both Sirius and James watched her openly for a reaction. Their gaze on her felt prickly making her pulse pound beneath her skin louder in the silence.

Lily, feeling the tension arise, shifted in her seat before smiling at Meliora who offered her an uncomfortable stare in response. “Shall we get started?” 

Another nod.

Remus looked up when he heard no response from her this time but soon looked back down with a furrow of his eyebrow. Mel had hoped the awkwardness would end there.

It did not.

Every few minutes, Sirius, who had a curious gaze on his face, attempted to engage in conversation with her. The questions weren't exactly invasive but still they were left unanswered.

James, ever the enabler, would only egg on the one sided discussion between them and Lily who made no move to stop them, also seemed curious about her reaction to the boy’s questions.

Mel remembered what Alistar had told her in passing once about the group, how Lily, although never fully engaged in the boy's antics often had a cool assessing gaze that picked apart the reactions of others.

It seemed even scarier than the boys’ actions, one could not tell if their was scrutiny under the stare or innocent curiosity on how it would play out. Her green eyes looked darker but ever so sharper when she stared at Mel like this.

Mel offered them no reaction as her head fogged and the ringing in her ears became louder. The most they got from her were nods and small twitches in her hand that showed she heard them. She wasn't stupid, she knew how rude her actions seemed but the words that existed within her seemed to refuse to come out. 

It felt like she was back in her first year when people did try to get to know her and in response all she could do was nod at them with a look of panic on her face.

“It's rude to ignore people, you know?” Sirius said abruptly, his tone slightly harsh in a way only he could make get under someone’s skin, it was condescending and blatantly mocking causing everyone to freeze. James shot him a look while Lily openly glared at him. 

“Sirius.” Lily said sharply. To which he replied, “What?” as his head rested against his hand in a careless gesture. “We have been talking to her this whole time Lily and she hasn't responded I'm just–” Lily interrupts him again with a fixed cold glare, looking over at Meliora in cautious assessment for a moment.

“Maybe we should go.” James said, slicing through the silence.

Meliora letting out a shaky sigh at his words. She really hoped they did, anything would be better than enduring another awkward moment of this.

Lily for a moment wanted to object to this but after a quick glance at the girl in front of her sighed, grabbing her books and sending a small smile to her before walking away with the rest of the group who had gotten up just as quick to exit the embarrassing interaction.

Mel wished the floors would swallow her whole.

Lily was not a curious person.

She minded her business, hardly stuck her nose where she wasn't wanted, except from when her prefect duties required it and sure as hell didn't go digging for the sake of it. Sure, the crowd she stuck around with whether it be the boys or the girls, were a loud bunch prone to dramatics but she wasn't. She was kind and sociable but she was also measured and careful more than she let off and yet she couldn't help her fixation with Meliora Ackerley. 

Meliora Ackerley, who didn't talk to her, who hardly acknowledged her. 

Lily didn’t think of it as a pride thing, she could care less about people who outwardly showed distaste towards her or the people who seemed nervous in her presence.

She felt like James in a way, not able to take the hint and leave it alone–drawn to the challenge but she couldn't control herself. The first time she had heard the girl's name she had been utterly clueless, if it wasn't for Dorcas beside her she would have spent the rest of the class trying to figure out who she was. 

But then Lily had looked at her for the first time and any other thought in her head had stilled.

Meliora was pretty, Gorgeous, even. 

She felt like a creep openly staring at her.

The sleek fall of her black curly hair, the slight furrow in her eyebrows with her full nervously bitten lips soft even when pressed together in what Lily thought was discomfort. And even with the expression displayed she still looked like the prettiest girl in the room.

How had Lily not noticed her before? She liked to think she would have, it's hard to ignore someone that looked like that. 

But when Lily approached her she understood why she had never noticed her. Meliora seemed to hide herself, or try to.

She never met someone like Meliora, from their first interaction she thought of Meliora to resemble a panicked newborn kitten, the ones that seemed quick to run with their tail stiff and puffed high behind them. She seemed on the bouts to flee.

That much was obvious and for a quick moment Lily thought she had done something to offend the girl but anyone with any sense of awareness talking to her could see she was just shy. 

At least that's what Lily told herself when the girl darted past her without so much as a second glance. It shouldn't have bothered her, she could care less about what the others aside from the girls and her boys thought but it irked her. More than she liked to admit.

The Gryffindor common room was warm, buzzing with the remnants of the post-match excitement and upcoming celebratory party tonight but Lily stomped through the entrance with a gloomy expression that seemed to dim the path.

Without a single word, she flung herself to the couch where Mary, Marlene and Dorcas sat huffing. Behind her, the boys followed at a cautious pace, aware she was ignoring them more so Sirius who had a guilty expression on his face as he watched her. 

“I asked what everyone of us thought! Why are you lots mad at me?!” He demanded dropping onto the chair opposite her. “Because it was rude!” Lily snapped, sitting up with a glare. “She already wasn't talking and you made it worse!”

Next to her, Mary ran a hand through Marlene’s hair that rested on her lap murmuring, “That bad?” James, ever the instigator, scoffed, “Worse. The tension was worse than the time Professor Slughorn walked in on Sirius and Remus.” 

The two turned a bright shade of red while sending him a glare which James ignored, undeterred. “She didn't say a word. Barely even acknowledged us or Lily. I would say it couldn't get worse than that.”

Sirius shrugged, “Maybe she’s one of those prejudiced purebloods?” Remus shook his head, “Is she even a pureblood? Maybe she just doesn't like us, it's not like we are exactly a closed off group.”

Though they all knew he was talking more about the rumbustious energy of James and Sirius.

They all have a moment of silence that was interrupted with Lily’s loud groan that caused the group to flinch, never once hearing her produce such a noise. “She hates me for sure now.”

Sirius rolled his eyes not understanding what had Lily so worked up. She didn't expect him to, Sirius cared little about others aside from himself and his friends or lovers. It was his biggest flaw and sometimes his biggest strength. “And if she did? You don’t know this girl and it's just for a paper, a lot of people envy you Lily. What else is new?” 

Lily didn't offer him a response staring out the window noticing the clouds starting to form. It was true it didn't really matter but still she couldn't help but want to be her friend.

She couldn't help but want to pick the quiet girl apart and find out what made her tick. Laying her head against Remus’ shoulder she continued to stare out the window in silence. 

She wondered if Meliora liked the rain as well.

[delfiore]

—ONE OF YOUR GIRLS.

pairing: lucy bronze x reader, (alexia putellas x reader)

synopsis: the only reason is simply because you are both heartbroken, lonely, and desperate.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i gave myself a 1k word limit on this and i failed miserably. literally why is it so hard for me to write a 1k essay for school but not this

You started to learn Lucy’s routine only a few weeks after she started coming around. Like clockwork, it didn’t matter how late you went to bed, she would always be up before eight. Sometimes, it would be to go downstairs for a swim in the freezing cold outdoor pool in her apartment complex. “Helps me wake up and think clearer”, she would explain. Sometimes, it would just be to sit in the living room with a coffee in hand, watching videos of the team you and her would be playing later in the day. Other times—and it was always a treat when she did—it would be to stay in bed with you, and watch you wake up.

Those were the times in which you felt like what you had with Lucy resembled most like a relationship, due to the sheer amount of domesticity of it. The way she would take time out of the day to lay a few extra minutes with you made it feel concrete like what you were doing was worth the time. But that wasn’t the goal—a relationship.

“I forgot to bring my stuff last night,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the lack of gear you brought over to Lucy’s apartment. You had hastily stuffed the necessities into a crossbody bag when she texted.

“It’s alright. We can drive by later and pick it up on our way to training.”

“We’re gonna arrive together? What if people see?”

Everyone else at Barcelona didn’t know, of course, because you couldn’t even begin to explain what the fuck transpired between you two. It was no relationship, but it was no ordinary friendship either. A special kind of friendship, maybe, but not entirely the kind people would think of if you described it as such . . .

Lucy’s lips pursed, and she contemplated for a moment. After a few seconds, she turned towards the window, the morning sun washed white behind the milky blinds.

“I don’t really care, to be honest,” her chest rose quickly with an exhale. “Why have we got to explain ourselves to people anyway? Kinda tired of it.”

You knew she meant having to deal with the looks her ex would give her. She had been chasing after Keira, trying to make amends for a long time. You knew that, she told you everything.

It made you think about your own situation. You were still very much in love with your own ex, but Alexia has since moved on with a mutual friend, and your conversations were reduced to strictly work nowadays. The way she started treating you after the breakup wasn’t dissimilar to how an older teenager treats her younger, annoying little sibling; with avoidance and an overly sense of self-importance. It made you despise her ten times more than you already did, but you also yearned for her attention, because it was what you have aligned your life with for a while.

But you supposed you had a type—older women with avoidance issues—which was why you were here with Lucy.

“Keira asked me about you the other day,” you said on the car ride to the training ground. You sat in Lucy’s passenger seat. “She was wondering how you were doing. Said you never talk to her anymore.”

Lucy scoffed and turned back to you. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like how you actually look so fit in my shirt.”

You let the snort escape your nose but leaned towards her in the passenger seat. “It’s literally a plain black T-shirt, Luce.”

“‘Xactly,” Her cheeks creased with a grin. “Makes me almost want to fancy you.”

“Almost.”

“Almost,” Lucy said.

Almost.

You and Lucy have always had a friendship filled with banter. Heart-to-hearts rarely happened—maybe before and after important matches, or international ones in which one of you had to be the loser—but you appreciated her easygoing nature and how it has shaped your relationship.

If you were a bit closer in age, if you weren’t already with Alexia, and she with Keira at the same time, you reckoned you would have gone for her. You’d always found her attractive.

“You’re too young for me, Y/N,” Lucy had told you once.

“I’m just saying,” you had put your hands up. “If you’re ever desperate enough, I could be like one of your girls.”

Lucy only laughed. Perhaps desperate was the wrong word to use. Lucy Bronze could never get that desperate so as to seek you out for company. No, everything would have to be on her terms.

You agreed with her, though. A nine-year age gap might have been a bit too much, but Lucy wasn’t just like any other 32-year-old.

But you were in love with Alexia. You still were, and your coupling with Lucy might have just been a ploy to piss her off, but your captain didn’t need to know that. Just seeing the not-so-subtle looks she sends your way whenever you are too touchy with Lucy was enough to satiate your grudge.

It seemed the joke wasn’t merely a joke, not to Lucy, because one night, she called you. You had never seen Lucy cry, at least not in person, and she was the type of person to let people see her cry only for her profession, never something in her personal life.

Every joke on your tongue died the moment you saw her blotchy, red face at your front door.

“I didn’t know who else to call.”

Really?

She could have called anyone on the team and they would happily offer her comfort. That was the charisma that Lucy wielded, and you were willing to bet there were other members of the team who were much better than you at comforting someone.

“I think I’m just unlovable.”

You led her inside and offered her a glass of water. I think I’m just unlovable. Her words echoed in your mind as you scrambled to find any words that would be comforting to her at that moment. How do you convince someone that they weren’t their flaws when you yourself struggled with the same insecurities? If Lucy even had those doubts about herself, how could you ever get out of it?

“I think I’m unlovable too.”

You didn’t know whether that was comforting or just rubbing salt in her wound, but Lucy exhaled shakily, for the first time looking at you in a way unlike that of teammates, or even friends.

Unlike a friend would, you lifted your hand and wiped away the tear on her cheek with the pad of your thumb, and unlike a friend would, you leaned in and kissed her slowly.

Kissing Lucy was exhilarating. She was eager and rough, and soft and gentle. It made you almost want to fall in love with her. She was tired, so you climbed on her lap and led the way, and all her burdens faded into oblivion, at least for the night.

When you both arrived at training, only a few of your teammates were there in the locker room, and most of them didn’t seem to notice you coming in together anyway. Pina, though, found you across the room.

“Did you hear?” She said quietly.

“What?”

“Alexia has been with the physios since like 9 this morning.”

“Why? What happened?” You tried not to sound too eager, or worried.

“I don’t know, but I walked past and I think she was crying.”

When you came into the rehab center, a physio greeted you with a smile. You returned it as your eyes quickly found the only person lying down on a bed, hiding her face in the crook of her arm.

“Hey, capitana,” you said in Spanish. “You sleep here last night or something?”

You saw the way her jaw ticked, and looking down, noticed the bandages wrapped around her knee, the ACL one.

“You didn’t happen to bring any coffee in, did you?” She said groggily. “I could use a sip.”

“No coffee, sorry. I’m trying to wean myself off of it.”

“You said that a thousand times before.”

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned against the bed. “What’s wrong?”

She let out a sigh and removed her arm. “They’re making me sit out Saturday’s game. They’re scared I might mess something up.”

You nodded, because you understood exactly why. Another ACL problem would be detrimental to her career in ways that you didn’t want to think about. “It’s better to be sure,” you shrugged.

“I’ve fucked my knee, Y/N,” Alexia said, inhaling shakily. “That’s what it is.”

You couldn’t imagine having to live with the anxiety, tiptoeing around your own knees, afraid it might give out any second again. Even the smallest discomfort could spell trouble, and the slightest movement could trigger the injury to worsen.

You opted not tell Lucy about your conversation with Alexia, because you wanted to keep it to yourself. As useless as that might be, that was the first genuine conversation you’ve had with your ex in about a year. You’ve learned not to take it to heart, though, because you knew you’d disappoint yourself when Alexia eventually goes back to treating you like a kid.

You made a conscious effort not to think about her when you called Lucy over for a hookup, but when she was knuckles-deep inside you, you couldn’t think of anything else but the pleasure.

Laying back and staring at the ceiling, you drew deep breaths as you came down from your high.

“You okay?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Hold me?”

She smiled and gathered you in her arms before kissing you sweetly. “Did something happen with Alexia?”

“No.” Nothing happened, really, but maybe it was because nothing happened that made you so distraught. “Maybe in another universe, where you’re not you and I’m not me, I would take you on a date tomorrow, maybe we’d be happier.”

“Well, why won’t you do it in this universe?”

You shrugged and settled back against her chest. “Because I’m me and you’re you. But mostly, because I am me.”

Lucy didn’t answer. She knew as much as anyone that once you’ve made your mind up, there was no swaying it, and that she didn’t have the energy in her to either. Instead, she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, wishing you’d find it in you somewhere to see yourself the way she sees you.

It would take some time until then, though, as only a few weeks later, she saw you hand-in-hand with Alexia coming to practice. Apparently, Alexia’s girlfriend was no more and you got what you wanted. It was okay, though, because Lucy found comfort in Ona, about to go on a second date with her the next day. You might have almost gotten the love you’d always desired with her, but it was just that, an almost.

[burtreynolds-esquire]

Ashes

Chapter Two - So High School

Lottie Matthews x gn!reader

—————————

AN: there is a scene in this chapter based off of a head canon you may have seen by @zengguos which I was honestly so obsessed with, I had to include it (with permission ofc). Also this chapter includes a soccer game and all my knowledge came from Google. I don’t know shit about soccer so if it seems off, that’s probably because it is.

As always, I’m not used to writing for gn!reader so there may be slip ups in pronouns somewhere as it is edited from my OC version.

~ ‘In poverty and other misfortunes of life, true friends are a sure refuge’ ~

1995

The squeaks of sneakers against the gym floor and shouts between teammates could be heard as the Yellowjackets went about their practice. They were inside that day due to a heavy enough rainfall earlier in the afternoon that had left the grass too wet to play on.

You were currently sitting right at the top of the bleachers, getting some homework out of the way while you waited on Natalie. After spending a couple of weeks in high school, your routine now included usually being present at the girl’s practice unless you had some afterschool newspaper business to attend to. If you didn’t hang about, you would only have to return to the school to pick Nat up when she was finished, so you had decided it’d be easier to stay. You absolutely didn’t mind though, it was far more preferable than spending any time at home where your mother was either absent or just didn’t really acknowledge your presence.

Your home life was becoming a lonely existence.

Or it would have been had you not had Natalie to spend time with. Nat understood you in a way you feared no one else ever could. The two of you became fast friends over the Summer and had only gotten closer since school had started. On top of that, you had also grown somewhat close to Jackie and by extension, Shauna Shipman; the girl you had originally dubbed Big Doe Eyes before learning her actual name.

You were on good terms with some of the other members of the team, they were a lot more friendly than your newspaper club. The only person who really talked to you there was Jennifer, but that was mostly just business.

You pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose, adjusting them properly before carrying on with an essay you were writing for english class. As annoying as you found them, the glasses were a requirement for reading and writing. You were just thankful you didn’t have to wear them 24/7.

“HI (Y/N!)”

You almost jumped at the sudden shrill voice from the gym floor and looked down to spot the equipment manager, Misty Quigley.

The blonde girl was waving at you enthusiastically, stopping from her duty of picking up cones just to say hello. You had come to learn that Misty had a very intense personality but seemingly good intentions. It seemed like she just wanted to fit in.

You gave her a quick wave and a genuine smile, which was apparently good enough for Misty as she continued on with her task.

Misty’s loud behaviour had gotten a few looks as well as a couple of head shakes and eye rolls from some of the Yellowjackets. You could understand why they generally kept their distance from her but you couldn’t help feel for the poor girl.

You started to pack up your things once the team were in the locker room and proceeded to wait in the hallway for Nat just outside the door.

The atmosphere from inside was lively as always, the girls always being in good spirits after practice. Music was blasting and you could hear some of them singing along, Van being the loudest of them all as usual. You smiled and shook your head slightly as you casually leant back against the wall and waited.

After a few minutes, the girls started leaving one or two at a time. Most of them said a quick hello to you on their way out, including one of your favourite members of the team, Lottie Matthews.

You weren’t close like you were with Nat and Jackie, but Lottie always made a point to greet you and ask about your day whenever you passed each other. It was the very early stages of a blossoming friendship but you both never seemed to get passed small talk, no matter how happy you were to see each other.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Lottie greeted with an affectionate smile.

You looked up at her, constantly reminded of your height difference when you were this close.

“Oh, hi Lottie,” you replied. “Good practice?”

“Uh, yeah it was… it was good.” Lottie stood a little awkwardly, one arm hanging down by her side and the other fiddling with the strap of her bag atop her shoulder.

“Cool.”

‘Small talk again. Why can we never get past the goddamn small talk? It’s getting awkward.’

“Your glasses,” Lottie suddenly said, her voice soft and quiet, sounding almost embarrassed that she’d said anything.

“What?” You asked, a little dumbfounded because why was Lottie pointing out your glasses?

“I like them.” Lottie’s smile was subtle but you still caught it.

“Oh! Shit, I forgot about them.” Now it was your turn to be embarrassed as you fumbled to remove them from your face. You weren’t in the habit of wearing them when they weren’t necessary but had forgotten to take them off after working on your essay.

“They, um… they look good,” Lottie mumbled as she avoided eye contact with you.

“Oh… thanks… no one’s actually said that to me before.” You rubbed the back of your neck self-consciously. Lottie was about to speak again but was cut off when Nat burst through the locker room door.

The two of you jumped at the sudden and loud interruption.

“(L/N)! Hey, can we stop somewhere on the way home? Gotta pick something up,” Nat explained as she threw her arm around you.

“That depends,” you asked, knowing exactly what Nat was going to be picking up. “Are you gonna share?”

“Oh please, I always share with you,” Nat replied without even thinking about it. “Hi Lottie, bye Lottie.”

And with that, she steered you down the hallway towards the exit without giving poor Lottie a chance to say goodbye, leaving her standing alone, a little taken aback at the abrupt ending to an almost conversation.

Lottie sighed to herself before making her own way out of the school building to head home, left with her own wonderings as to why she was having such a hard time getting to know you.

~

Music was blaring from the trailer as the two of you were hanging out that evening. Your mother was currently in work, which meant the home was free for you and Nat to hang out in without having to worry about bothering anyone.

The pot on the stove was starting to boil and you stirred it continuously, the mac ‘n cheese inside almost ready. Meanwhile, Nat was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, expertly rolling a couple of joints for future use.

“Hey, what time’s your mom due back?” Nat asked as she finished making her second joint with the weed that she’d bought on your way home after school.

“Oh, not until around 3am. She’s working the bar tonight, so it’ll be a late one as usual,” you replied while you dished out your meal.

“Don’t you get lonely being home alone all the time?” Nat tried to sound casual, you could tell, but there was an obvious undertone of care.

You came and sat on the floor across from Nat, placing your bowls of pasta on the coffee table next to you.

“Of course,” you replied simply. “But it’s also lonely when she’s home as well. We never talk anymore.”

“Bummer. So she’s not getting any better at all?”

“Not really,” You said before taking a bite of your food. “I’m getting used to it though. No big deal.”

Nat could tell you were deflecting, trying to act casual so as not to get too deep into a conversation about your mother. So she changed the subject.

“Hang on, didn’t you say you were lactose intolerant?” She asked, eyeing up the mac ‘n cheese.

“Well yeah, but there’s no way this is real cheese!”

~

Watching the Yellowjackets first game of the season was intense to say the least. You and Jennifer were in attendance, of course, in order to document it. You had no idea it would be so thrilling, you’d never been much of a lover of sports before. You figured it must be because you actually knew these girls, so you were personally invested.

Natalie, who you’d found out was a winger, was incredible. As was Tai, their other winger. You hadn’t really got a chance to meet and talk to Tai properly just yet but you could tell how talented she was.

Shauna also stood out to you, often taking the ball from the opposing team and passing it expertly to one of the wingers. She was clearly the fastest on the team, at least from what you could tell as you watched her through the lens of your camera, getting some great shots of the defensive midfielder.

On the Yellowjackets goal side, where Van was, you noticed Lottie on the defence as the ball was coming her way by the other player’s striker. You watched on with baited breath as the other team was about to make a kick towards the goal but was swiftly intercepted by Lottie, who had an obvious height and strength advantage. The opposing team member was aggressively shoved aside as Lottie tackled the ball away and passed it to Shauna. It wasn’t enough of a push to cause injury but it certainly was enough for the referee to pull out his yellow card.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as the game continued.

“You owe me $5,” you heard from behind you.

“Ah shit, not again,” you turned to see who the voices belonged to and saw both Gen and Melissa sitting on the bench, the latter of which looked miserable at having apparently lost a bet.

“Are you guys betting against your own team members?” You asked with a lighthearted chuckle as you backed up towards them, eyes still on the field.

“Oh yeah,” Gen replied with glee. “We do it every game, see who gets carded first.”

“We very rarely ever get red carded in games but almost always get a yellow card. The usual culprits are either Lottie, Mari, and sometimes Tai,” Melissa explained. “Although Mari’s is usually for verbal aggression. She loves running her mouth.”

“Last year, she called bullshit on the referee and told him she’d visited the nursing home to fuck his dad!” Gen said as she tried not to laugh at her own story.

“Holy shit, are you fucking kidding me?!” You couldn’t help but cackle at that.

“Nah, that’s just typical Mari honestly,” said Melissa.

“So how come Lottie and Tai get carded so much?”

“Well that was a prime example of Lottie’s behaviour,” Gen explained. “They’re both aggressive but Lottie’s is more strategic. If she sees an opposing player with a good chance of making a goal, she’ll just take them out. But she doesn’t do it every game, juuust enough that she doesn’t get banned from playing, so it’s likely you won’t see her do it again for a good while. It’s a somewhat drastic measure.”

You listened as the girl continued.

“Tai, on the other hand, just seems to lose herself sometimes. Like she’s so focused on the game, she completely disregards opposing players which can lead to a foul. She doesn’t get carded as often as the other two though.”

~

The timer was counting down, the game’s end imminent as they entered their last few seconds. Despite the Yellowjackets playing impeccably, the other team had also done incredibly well, the score currently tied at 1-1. Neither team had done a great job at getting past the other’s defensive positions.

You were subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip as you watched the ball in the other team’s possession.

Until Nat intercepted it, passed it to Shauna, who then immediately kicked it to Jackie, seemingly knowing exactly where she was on the field without so much as a second glance. Every single one of the girls were so in sync with each other, it was almost mesmerising to you.

Jackie took a chance as soon as she had the ball and aimed a kick at the opposing goal. The entire crowd and field went silent as they watched the ball fly over numerous heads, straight through the arms of the goalie, and into the back of the net.

The roars from the crowd were instantaneous. The Yellowjackets had won their first game of the year at 2-1.

Nat was right, they were legendary.

The change in atmosphere on the field was immediate, half the girls storming off with their heads hung low in defeat, and the other half all crowding around each other as they jumped up and down whilst chanting.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz!”

You couldn’t help but laugh in excitement as you ran closer to the team to take some celebratory shots of them.

You were so caught up in your camera, you almost didn’t notice one of the girls jogging over to you.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)! We won!” It was all you heard as you found yourself being scooped into someone’s arms for a bone-crushing hug, your own arms trapped by your sides. You realised it was Lottie before the girl released you from her grip but kept her hands on your upper arms, almost as if she was trying to keep you in place.

This was the first time the two of you had actually physically touched, you realised.

You were both grinning at each other for a few seconds before Lottie let her arms drop and you finally spoke up.

“Hey Little Miss Yellow Card, I can’t believe I saw you do that!”

“Worth it,” was all Lottie replied with a small shrug, trying and failing to hide how proud she was behind an almost bashful smirk.

“Yeah well, if you hadn’t have done that, they would’ve scored an extra goal and you wouldn’t have won so… good job.”

Lottie found herself being caught off guard by the genuine praise coming from you.

“So, uh… you’re coming over to Jackie’s later to celebrate with us, right?” She mustered up the courage to ask. “It’s only gonna be small compared to the usual parties she has. Team members and approved friends only.”

“Oh?” You asked half-jokingly. “I’m an approved friend, am I?”

Lottie let out a small chuckle before answering.

“Please, the entire team loves you. It’d be weird if you weren’t there.”

“Then I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you confirmed with a grin.

“I guess I’ll see you later then,” Lottie said, satisfied with your answer. She returned to the rest of the team, who were starting to disperse off the field and back into the school building, the joy absolutely radiating from each and every one of them.

~

Later that afternoon, you found yourself in the school’s darkroom, illuminated by the dull red light as you developed the film from that day’s soccer game.

As predicted, you’d managed to get some excellent shots of Shauna whilst she’d been sprinting down the field, a great shot of Nat tackling another player for the ball, and one of Jackie as she was kicking the ball for the winning goal.

Considering you had never photographed a sports game before, you were fairly proud of what you had accomplished. Any of these shots would look great in the next issue of The Buzz Bulletin.

Your favourites though, were of the ones you’d captured after the game, where the girls were all huddled together celebrating.

One photo in particular really caught your eye. Amongst the crowd of girls, Lottie could be seen looking over towards you (and in doing so, looking right at the camera) with nothing short of a breath taking smile on her face. You figured you must have taken it right before Lottie had come running over to you.

With the ecstatic look on the soccer player’s face, you had manage to capture just how truly beautiful Lottie was and you felt your heart skip a beat as you gazed at the photo.

Perhaps you would keep this one for your personal portfolio.

[cultkinkcoven]

Hello, I have a quick question. Do you have any tips or something for studying with Lucifer? I've recently started working with him, but I had no time for big offerings, just some small things. Uni is currently kicking my ass and I have one week of exams left, on top of that, I found out I've failed an exam. I'll retake it in summer but my motivation for studying has decreased and my anxiety, fear of failure and insecurities has increased too much. So, do you have any tips, rituals or things that you do to study while also involving Lord Lucifer into it?

Hope you have a great day/night!

I think studying anything in general is an activity that you can invite Lucifer in on, and he’s a really great energy to go to for academic anxiety. He helps me remember that the world isn’t going to end if I’m not productive 24/7, and that a bad grade isn’t a death sentence. Praying to him for inspiration before writing, or just asking him to calm me down before jumping into an exam has always been really helpful. You can create sigils or mantras with him to help you remember a specific concept. I’ve even had him help me study inside of dreams, reminding me of things I would have surely forgotten the next day.

I consider something as simple as lighting his candle while you research to be a devotional act, especially while you’re still in the brain storming stage and are just looking for information. Any pursuit of knowledge seeking is Lucifer’s specialty.

Whenever I get into a slump Lucifer encourages me to just read without actually writing anything down. Sometimes it’s overwhelming to think of it as studying rather than just lightly browsing some literature. I really like having conversations with him about the things I’m studying, usually the ideas he presents are interesting enough that I can easily remember them in a high stress situation like a test.

When I get overwhelmed writing essays and things of the sort he’ll have me do what seems like a very small task, like a writing only two sentences, and then walking away from it. In a few more hours I’ll go back and read what I wrote, maybe change a word or two, and then leave it alone again. Doing these very small increments of work allows me to still get stuff done without burning myself out. I’m also a bit of a perfectionist and accidental workaholic so I also ask him to keep me in check and stop me from over working myself when I’ve been at it for hours at a time. My time blindness can lead me to work constantly all day, so having him step in and say “hey it’s been 7 hours since you got up” is also super helpful.

Other than that, be kind to yourself! Remember how impressive it is that you’re even doing any of this. Academics are not easy for most people, the fact that you’re committed to your education is very admirable!

[silcobrainrot]

Get to know your mutuals!

Thank you for the tag @teawithghosts! I love a good tag game

What's the origin of your blog title?

It's on the tin my dude 😂🥵

OTP(s)+ shipnames(s):

This is my Arcane blog, so my Arcane OTP is Story x Character-Driven Plot. I liked Zaundads before it became wholesome. Sometimes when I put Jinx and Silco in a blender it comes out Jilco, so read the tags. Shipping really isn't that important to me tho. No one's ready for my ace headcanons.

Favourite color:

Purple. The hue my hair is (ask for pics).

Song stuck in your head:

Okay I discovered and then forgot Murder Drones existed, recently remembered so I have finally seen episode 8 and now the final boss song has been stuck in my head for like a week

Weirdest habit/trait:

3+ way conversations with myself. Sometimes I weaponize this for fic writing.

Hobbies:

GOOD FUCKING QUESTION Writing, bookbinding, film photography, starting collections and never finishing them because I start collecting something else

If you work, what's your profession?

Day job I'm customer support for a tech company. Theoretically I'm a freelance filmmaker on the side but I'm in between projects right now.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

I went to school for filmmaking and if it were up to me I'd be a full time video colorist by now, but school doesn't teach you the boring bits so we're still working on it.

Something you're good at:

Yeah I'll say it I'm a good writer. I know I'm a good writer. Mind the tags. I'm also good at my pictures. You have to be at least okay at film photography to get an image at all and I get those consistently.

Something you hate:

Borrowing one from prev, "proship DNI" culture. Grow up lol.

When something juuuuust barely doesn't fit. Applies to any and all circumstances.

That fanart is perfectly acceptable to monetize but fanfiction isn't. Not talking about copyright law, just in terms of fandom etiquette. There are people that make a consistent income out of fanart and fanmerch and commissions of copyrighted characters, but tell someone you took ONE writing commission or dare to have a Ko-Fi linked somewhere and they'll call the copyright holders themselves to make an example out of you. I know why it's more complicated legally, culturally people just don't think writing is as valuable of a skill.

Something you collect:

Anytime I take my film camera on an adventure I try finding a souvenir pin nearby. I'm making a map of where I've been on my camera bag.

Something you forget:

Oh lots of things, but I can't fucking remember any specifics 🤣

What's your love language:

Touch. I used to have a lot of platonic intimacy with my friends in middle and high school and it ruined adult life for me. I think the only fate worse than "touch starved and has never known touch" is "touch starved and used to have it all the time and now has none."

Favourite movie/show:

Movie [at the time of this question being asked]: I'm on a Cloverfield kick again

TV [at the time of this question being asked]: Arcane season 1

Favourite food:

Rice in any form. Humans really popped off with rice, potatoes, and bread.

Favourite animal:

Bats 🦇🥰 hoary bats are my favorite local species

What were you like as a child:

Talkative and extremely depressed. I knew when people were only pretending to listen.

Favourite subject at school:

English I guess. My favorite teachers were always English teachers. My school system was very essay-focused and by 8th grade they were letting us choose our own topics for the most part, so I learned that I actually enjoyed breaking stories down to their parts and seeing what makes them tick.

Least favourite subject:

Math. I learned I have discalculia a few years after graduating college.

What's your best character trait?

The BPD

What's your worst character trait?

Need to be right. Not in a "everyone else is the problem and I don't need to learn about anything" way but in a "if I'm wrong about this I deserve death and will never redeem myself" type way

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

"My mom is surviving cancer" -> "my mom will never have cancer"

-----

WOOF this got serious didn't it? Can't help it. Anyway no-pressure tags [apologies if you've been tagged before it's hard to keep track of the ones that aren't reblog chains]: @elizaviento @southsidestory @godlygivenanxiety @wildlybewitched @sorceressofthesky @constantfragmentation @mandofury

[always-andromeda]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Professor!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 3268

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + dark academia + “I can see how badly you want this, so I'm going to make sure you get it.”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ I’ve loved this man literally since I was thirteen…so it’s inevitable that I’d be writing something absolutely fucking filthy for him in my twenties…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), gaps in age and power, mutual masturbation, little bit of panty sniffing, a singular use of Y/N (I'm sorry, I hate it too but it was necessary), usage of pet names (sweetheart), general manipulation, slight praise kink, obvious disclaimer: the dynamic in this fic is just that, fictional, and should not be practiced in real life!! let me know if any other warnings are needed!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

You’d rarely had luck receiving any sort of grace from your professors. Sure, there were a select few that only wanted to see you succeed. However, more often than not you seemed to encounter sadists who decided to take their kinks out on exhausted college students. But you were convinced that Professor Winchester wouldn’t be like that.

For starters, he’d always been challenging but never malicious. Despite the fact that you’d registered for his Norse Mythology course with the assumption that it would be easy college credits, you quickly learned that his assignments were difficult. Every week there seemed to be about a hundred pages worth of reading, frequent essays, and an emphasis on class discussion.

Oh, did he love those class discussions. While most were less than enthusiastic to contribute to lengthy examinations of Eddic poetry at eight in the morning, Professor Winchester seemed to be none the wiser of this.

He was always squinting over his thin wire framed glasses, surveying the class. He’d stand at his desk, brushing his long hair behind his ear while looking over papers. When he’d listen he’d purse his lips and tilt his head, expression rife with genuine interest. In all of these moments, he was the most gorgeous. But more than that, you were fascinated with his mind.

Professor Winchester knew this material like the back of his hand; was able to pull references and quotes from various pieces of literature at the drop of a hat. He was the only professor who could ever give notes that were actually helpful on essays and he’d always been generous with handing out extra credit assignments. Which is what you aimed to obtain on this visit to his office.

You looked through the glass of his office door and saw him inside, working diligently at a dark oak wood desk. Taking a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and entered.

The hinges squeezed but Winchester seemed so fixated on whatever was before him that he only raised a finger, indicating for you to wait. So you did. Awkwardly. You rocked slightly on your heels, your stomach starting to twist in time with the movement. God, he looked like a dream lit by the stained glass banker's lamp as he graded papers.

In another world you could see him coming home from a long day, his body warm behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Smelling like black coffee and pencil shavings, you'd adoringly close your eyes, taking in his scent and ask him how his day went. He'd hum in contentment when resting his chin on your head; you're his rock, his soulmate, the reason he stays sane despite dealing with probably hundreds of students and the frustrating dance of academic bureaucracy. 

It's a fantasy that broke the second Winchester glanced up and said with a hint of surprise, "Miss L/N! Come in, have a seat," he nodded towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

Relieved that he can pick you out among the sea of students from his classroom, you move forward until you reach the chair. You set your bag down on the floor and settle into the worn leather of the seat as Winchester eyes you expectantly.

"What can I do for you this afternoon?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Actually, I was hoping that you could help me out with something."

"Oh, what might that be?" he furrowed his brow.

"Um..." you started. "I'm sure you noticed that I didn't do too hot on the last exam."

"Ah, I did," he said simply.

"You did?"

"Yeah, I was surprised, actually." Winchester opened up one of his desk drawers and sorted through some files before pulling out a packet you recognized as the exam you'd taken the week before. "You seem so engaged in class discussion and you've been doing well on everything else. This...this felt rushed. What happened?"

The soft expression of concern on his face only increased your shame. In all honesty, you'd wasted half the exam time away staring at him. He'd worn a red sweater over a cream colored button up that day. Then he'd rolled up the sleeves before handing out the exam papers. It felt stupid to admit that you'd been distracted by his goddamn forearms.

But you had been. You couldn't resist watching him as he'd circled the room, keeping an eye out for cheating. With his arms folded behind his back, you got the best look at the back of him. His long legs clad in khaki. Strong, tanned forearms corded with prominent veins. Shoulder blades pushed back confidently as he walked. Everything about his solid stature had your mind far, far away.

You'd been good at making sure your daydreams wouldn't get the better of you. But this time, before you knew it, Winchester was glancing down at his watch and announcing that you had fifteen minutes left for exam time. You had no choice but to rush through the rest of it, writing down answers that hardly even made sense just to fill in blanks.

Now those answers laid before you, condemning you to a low D– that dragged down your entire grade.

"I honestly couldn't tell you, Professor. I thought I studied enough but I guess not."

Though you'd attempted to laugh off his concern, Winchester obviously wasn't budging. "But these are rookie mistakes. Number fifteen for example. Where do the gods live?"

"Easy. Asgard."

"Right, but here you marked down the answer for Valhalla," he slid the paper around so you could look at the question.

Sure enough, there it was, your frantic pencil marks filling in the bubble for the incorrect answer. Damn.

"And that's just on the multiple choice questions," Winchester continued, flipping through the pages. "You barely followed any of the directions for the long answer questions. Your response to the short essay portion was a paragraph too short. And it was too unfocused."

Unfocused is right, Professor Winchester.

"I hate to say it...but I was a little disappointed."

The sting of tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. So you cleared your throat and blinked them back quickly. Voice trembling, you answered quickly, "I'm sorry, Professor. I wasn't on my game and I thought I'd pay you a visit so I could plead my case. I'm willing to do any kind of extra credit assignment. I don't care how much work it is. I'll do anything to fix my grade because I really want to do well in your class and–"

Winchester raised a hand, urging you to stop. Then he spoke, "Listen, I can see how badly you want this. So I'm going to make sure you get it. Just...let me think."

With that, Winchester rose from his seat and began to gather the papers that littered the surface of his desk. He stacked them neatly before opening a different drawer and laying them inside. After he closed the drawer, he made his way around the desk. You tried not to look at him as he made his way around the room, especially not when you felt his hand brush against the back of your chair. But you couldn't not notice when he drew the shade on his door's window and closed the blinds to his window, leaving the room dim save for the yellow light of his desk lamp.

Once he'd made his round, he returned to his chair and rolled back, leaving a massive gap between himself and the edge of his desk.

Then he did something else you didn't expect.

He patted the wood and said, "Come. Sit on my desk. Let me look at you."

You almost wavered on the direction when he cleared his throat expectantly. That brought you to your feet and compelled you to settle waveringly before him.

With his lips in a tight line, Winchester studied you. He tilted his head every few seconds, letting his eye flicker from your uncertain expression to your body. You sat up a little straighter in an attempt to satisfy his observation of you.

You weren't quite sure what he was doing, but it made you nervous; made you vulnerable in a way you weren't used to.

"I may have one extra credit opportunity that I can offer. Special. Just for you."

"Yeah? What do you want me to do?"

"Well, you can start by spreading your legs."

Your eyes went wide. "Professor Winchester, you're not–"

He cut you off quickly, "First, after office hours, you may call me Sam. Second, I'm not going to touch you. I'm simply asking you to give me a– a presentation," he decided.

"What kind of presentation?" you asked.

Your feigned innocence made the man chuckle softly. "The kind of presentation I'm sure you give in your dormitory bedroom every night."

There wasn't an ounce of jesting on his face, but still you played dumb. "I have no idea what you're referring to, Sam." His name felt foreign yet familiar on your tongue. Probably because you'd whispered it many times before in the exact scenario he'd described.

"I'd hoped you'd tell me the truth about why you were so distracted during your exam. But since you haven't been forthcoming, I guess I have to spell it out for you, haven't I?"

You swallowed hard and blinked nervously.

"You thought I wouldn't notice, did you?" he chuckles again. "It's hard not to notice when one of your students, especially one so beautiful, is practically drooling all over their table."

The scraps of flattery were evidently working on you as Sam smiled when you fiddled with your fingers in your lap as your skin got all warm and tingly. So he kept going.

"Besides, you're too intelligent to do this terribly on something you should've aced. Maybe you wanted to fail it. You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to waste your time, I was just–"

"You weren't wasting my time. Wasting your time is continuing this pointless back and forth when you could instead be proving yourself."

"Proving myself?"

"Yes. Spread those legs...and earn your grade," he ordered.

Breathing in and out slowly, you did what you were asked. The knots in your stomach told you this was wrong. But the smile of approval that slowly grew on Sam's lips said that this was exactly what you both needed. 

You'd never been more embarrassed to be wearing a skirt. One the fabric pooled around your hips, it only framed the damp patch on your underwear. Perhaps part of you had wanted something like this to happen. Because your pussy was already pulsing after simply being observed behind the cotton curtain that soaked up her anticipation.

"Very good," Sam breathed out.

"What do I do now?" you asked.

"Just...play with her. Show me what you like to do to make her happy."

You nodded, then pursed your lips as you thought. If you were going to present to him...you might as well go all out. So you shifted each of your thighs around, pulling down your underwear until your bare ass was planted on the desk and the garment was caught on one of your ankles. You lifted your left and held it out gently, the panty hanging in the air a little below Sam's face.

"Take them," you said. "Visual aid."

He smirked lazily at the offering before pulling them over your shoe, being careful not to actually touch you. Sam balled them up before bringing them to his nose and slowly breathing in the scent. You could tell he enjoyed it thoroughly as he let out a deep sigh from within his chest.

"With how wet these are...it's good to know you were prepared even for a surprise presentation. I knew there was a reason you're my favorite."

His words went straight to your cunt as a few drops of slick leaked from your hole and landed on the dark wood beneath you.

"Go on," Sam urged, gaze flickering to the drops of you on his desk. "She's waiting. And so am I."

You began to treat yourself with the same level of care as you did when you were alone. One of your hands reached up your shirt and you cupped one of your tits. You kneaded the flesh for a few seconds before focusing on the nipple, pinching it until it pebbled and poked through your shirt. The action made your breathing turn ragged. 

You finally let your other hand travel south, bringing warmth to the soft skin of your thighs. Wanting better access to yourself, you pulled your leg up, resting a foot on the desk itself. Then you reclined back and let your fingers roam where they wanted.

Using two fingers, you spread your outer lips, only exposing yourself to Sam’s scrutiny even further. The cool air hitting your most vulnerable part, you shivered as goosebumps erupted across your skin. You looked up at him, gauging his approval of your performance.

“You’re doing so well already, keep going,” he encouraged, hardly concealing the arousal that clung thickly to his tone.

You took the praise with pride. It emboldened you enough to slip your two fingers between your folds to gather up some of the slick. You couldn’t help but feel mortified as you involuntarily gasped when your digits brushed slightly against your clit.

Sam let a quick puff of air out his nose. “Sensitive?”

“Mhmmm,” you whined.

“Bet you can’t even touch that pretty clit directly without crying, huh?”

You nodded.

“Then be gentle. I want you to last for me.”

You took that to mean that he didn’t want you touching yourself there yet. So instead you switched to focusing on your entrance. It wasn’t often that you went straight for penetration. Rarely did it bring the kind of relief you craved.

But you had the feeling that Sam would want to see it; to see your fingers filling yourself up and stretching you out.

With your fingers practically pruning already, you pushed one in ever so slowly. It took a second to adjust to the slight pressure, but still you began to carefully pump. The slick squelch only intensified when you slipped another one in and sped up your movements.

Though the pressure increased and built up tension in your belly, you could already tell it wasn’t going to go anywhere. You bucked your hips pathetically against your own hand, trying to get deep enough to hit your g-spot. But no matter how far you tried to probe, it was useless. Your fingers simply weren’t long enough.

Your eyes went wind, catching sight of something that most likely could reach that spot inside you. While you’d been fucking yourself, your professor had undone the button and the zipper on his pants and slipped himself out. There he sat, your panties in his hand and wrapped around the thick length of his cock. The angry red tip poked up and out of the fabric with each slow thrust. And you could already tell based on how long his strokes were that you’d most likely be able to feel him poking against your belly from inside you. The idea made you moan and throw your head back.

Sam swiftly reprimanded you, “Ah, remember your eye contact. I want you to look at me.”

Shame spread over your body. What the fuck was going on? Were you really fingering yourself on his desk right next to papers that he was surely going to return to students? Was Sam really fisting his own cock with your underwear? And were you actually enjoying this?

“Sweetheart,” Sam’s self control faltered slightly with the name. But it grabbed your attention nonetheless. “I need you to look at me. Let me look into your eyes when you make yourself come on my desk, alright?”

This was about more than fixing your grade. This was about pleasing him…by pleasing yourself. And as you returned his look, you were all in.

Under his watchful, half lidded, hazel eye you allowed yourself to focus on your aching clit which laid in wait like a pearl beneath the hood of skin covering it. Carefully, you pulled that hood back before lightly spreading some of your slick with a finger. You let the skin settle back in place over the sensitive nub before going straight to work.

You began to rub slow circles on the hood and finally properly moaned. It took only a few seconds for the muscle memory of your nightly ritual to kick in as the pleasure started to mount. Finally, all of that pressure in your core had some actual weight to it; a weight that was already beginning to roll in shallow waves over your whole being.

"There you go, sweetheart. Let me hear you loud and clear. Don't wanna miss a single sound from you," Sam groaned and you caught how the grip he had on himself tightened, how his pace quickened.

While rolling your hips against your hand, you pulled up a side of your shirt, exposing even more of yourself to him. Now he could easily see one of your tits rise and fall with your staggered breaths. He could see how the ball of fat dimpled under your fingertips as you squeezed and pulled at your hardened nipple.

Both sources of simulation had you whimpering breathlessly, "Sam, I-I'm so close– Let me come, please?"

Sam glared and asked through gritted teeth, "That's not my name. What do you call me in class?"

"Professor?"

Sam nodded darkly.

You took the cue quickly and begged helplessly, "Please, professor, please let me come–" you were cut off by the sound of your pleasure starting to push you over the edge. 

Sam left you teetering, staring right over the border of this boundary. That boundary being an ethical nightmare that you had no clue how you'd navigate. But you wanted to be good for him; you craved his approval.

And thankfully, Sam gave it as he groaned, "There you go, good girl. You can come, you've got permission."

With that, you arched off the desk and burst with glorious clarity. A thin stream of your arousal drooled from your entrance as you rubbed yourself through the enormous implosions and the small aftershocks that followed. Your head was heavy with the fog of pleasure and you wanted to hang it back, give it a break.

But still, you were determined to keep your eyes on him, even as you pulled your fingers away from your trembling cunt and stuck them in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the wrinkled digits, soaking up every bit of yourself that you could.

Any sort of professionalism Sam had been trying to maintain up until that point shattered completely when he rolled his chair forwards. Closer to you now, you looked down into his soft eyes and watched how his normally objective stare went personal; emotional. He looked at you with the kind of admiration that made your heart flutter with pride.

He took his hand, placed it on your knee, and spread your legs further. His touch was so light, so soft that you could help feeling electricity dance along your spine.

"I thought you said you wouldn't touch me?" you whispered, only a hint of a smug smile tugging at your lips.

Choosing his words as carefully as ever, he explained, "That was before I decided that you needed some of my...guidance."

[kimmiessimmies]

Personal post

This will probably be the most non-Sims related post I've put on this blog ever. I'll put most of it under a cut, so you can choose whether or not to read it. The thing is, I could use some advice. And asking strangers from all over the world advice on something important might be weird, but you are also my community, so I value your opinions. Don't worry, this isn't a "Kim being depressed" kinda post. 😉 It's a work thing.

Upfront: This post is about me being unhappy in my current well-paid job and my search for something that makes me happy. It might come across sounding a bit entitled, since I know there are many people who would be happy to have any job, just so they can pay their bills. I'm sorry if this post triggers that, and I know I'm privileged to even be in this situation. ❤️

TL/DR: Do I stay in a well-paid, secure job that doesn't bring happiness and actually negatively affects my mental health because of it? Or: Do I take the plunge into the unknown and give up the securities I have now for something that could potentially (but not guaranteed) not only make me happy but bring me opportunities as well?

Okay, here's the deal. Currently, I work in education. I've been teaching for 19 years, and for the last 3 years, I've held the position that best translates to special needs coordinator at the school where I've been all of my working life. In short, my job entails making sure the teachers have the tools they need to help all kids in their classes with special educational needs, to make sure each child ends up in the right form of education fitting their needs and dealing a lot with difficult or even alarming home situations. My job can be rewarding at times, and challenging at others. Aside from this, I've been part of the management team at my school for almost 8 years. I work at a big school. It wasn't big when I started there, but it's big now. I have a degree in Early Childhood Education, and that's also the age group I've always dealt with. It's the age group I've always taught, and it's the age group currently under my supervision in the position I'm now.

This past year, I've struggled with my mental health, as I've mentioned before, and have not been at work fully for a while. My therapist and I established that while work is "okay", it's also not bringing me joy anymore while my job was once the happiest and most passionate thing I did. Right now, it's blah. This position is not one that really suits me, yet I don't want to go back to teaching either. I've been there, done that. Add to that the fact that, come September, my boss requires me to change my position slightly. I'd be doing the same thing I do now, but for an older age group. This has given me a lot of stomach aches, because the thing that still drives me to do my job now is the fact that I'm doing it geared towards the youngest kids in school.

All in all, the job is not bringing me happiness in the slightest anymore. Having said that, I know a lot of people do jobs that don't make them happy, but it pays the bills, so let's suck it up and just do it. Which is fine, I can do that too, except my mental health suffers...

However, there are a few good things about this job too:

The pay is really good

I have lovely colleagues

I have a lot of credits here because I've been here for so long. They know my worth

I have a very understanding boss who's been nothing short of wonderful during my depression

(If you're still with me, thank you for reading this essay all the way, it's appreciated 💗)

My therapist asked me, "If money weren't a factor, what would you be doing?" My answer was "write." More specifically, I just want to stay home all day and work on ATOH, but no one is going to pay me for that. 😄 So, write, or do a job in which writing plays a role. So, she advised me to start looking for jobs that fit that description. It was a rather depressing search. Most jobs that came close to what I'd like to do require degrees or diplomas I don't have.

And then I suddenly stumbled upon something: Assistent Project Manager at a small, but well established company that creates educational projects (usually based on children's books), books and materials geared towards early childhood education in particular, and currently expanding to do the same for education to older kids as well.

I felt like I had found the holy grail. This is writing, this is editing, this is being creative, this is working with authors, but it's also closely related to early childhood education, the thing I know so well. Despite still being semi depressed, I felt like I needed to at least give this a shot. So, I wrote a letter, enclosed my resume, and waited. I didn't have to wait long, because a few days later I got an invite for an interview.

I went for the interview and was welcomed at a small and very homely office space (with an office cat!). We had a good talk and I left happy. They invited me to do a "trial day" with them, which is what I'll be doing today. They've had a lot of applicants for this position, but from the contact we've had since, it seems like I stand a good chance.

Sounds like a no-brainer? Perhaps, unless you have my brain... Because there are doubts:

Pay. This job pays quite a bit less than my current one. I'm a single parent and therefore sole breadwinner in my household. Currently, I make quite good money because I've been in this job for a long time and hold a relatively high position in the organisation. We can pay the bills, go on holidays, and even splurge occasionally (for example, the very pricey laptop I bought a few months ago). With this job, I would still make enough to pay the bills and go on holidays, but I will need to keep an eye on the money, and there won't be splurging for a while. I do know this sounds like a luxury problem to some.

Job security. In my current job, I'm under a fixed contract. Basically, unless I royally fuck up, I can't be fired. With this job I'd start on a year contract. After that year, they can either decide to give me another year or let me go. This won't just be if I mess up, but also if they decide I'm not the best person for the job after all, or if I don't fit in with their small, close-knit team. Worst case scenario; they let me go, and I'll have to go back to education and probably teach again.

These doubts are few, but strong. So, basically, like I already said above: do I stay in a well-paid, secure job that doesn't bring happiness and actually negatively affects my mental health because of it? Or: do I take the plunge into the unknown and give up the securities I have now for something that could potentially (but not guaranteed) not only make me happy but bring me opportunities as well (since it's publishing)?

I don't need anyone to actually answer those questions, but those are the wonderings on my mind I wanted to write down. Thanks for reading. ❤️

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Hi Cianna, just wanted to say I really admire your study ethic and general vibe on this blog (you inspire me to do better!)

Do you have any advice/tips for good study habits and staying focused? I find that I get some work done, but after a break I can't get back on track

Sorry for the long ask/ studyblr type of question;; what is your favourite hairstyle that you do with your hair! (I also have curly brown hair :)

Have a lovely day also <3

🌻🌻

hi! i touch on a lot of points in this other ask, but a few specific learning techniques i abide by are:

parkinson's law. parkinson's law states that work expands to fill the time. basically if you have an essay that's due in a week, it will magically take you one week to get it done, even if the task itself could've been done in one day. to counter this i just set artifical deadlines for myself--even if an essay is due in a week, my personal deadline has it due in two days.

prime your brain prior to learning. if you need to study a biology chapter, pre-skim it the night before. this is not the time to go into detail--it's the time to familiarize yourself with the overview of the topic, so you should only be making a quick scan of the chapter. another priming method is to make a concept map of topics before diving into a chapter. as you skim write down key terms haphazardly, google those you don't recognize, and draw a concept map linking them together. this is effective bc it requires you to actually put effort into connecting the topics, takes no longer than 15 minutes, and speeds up the learning process that follows. it doesn't matter if you find out you're wrong once you dive in; what's important is you're actively thinking of how these topics coexist, as opposed to mindlessly taking notes or highlighting only to forget what you learned a couple hours later. i'm also a fan of concept maps bc i get to go back and highlight stuff i'm weak in, which is always a plus.

if you like to take notes, use it as another means of active recall. don't just passively take notes as you go along. what i like to do is i read a paragraph, close the book, then try to take down notes based off memory alone. this helps me both phrase the topic in my own words and realize what my learning gaps are, rather than just passively summarize without putting effort into truly understanding/memorizing something. anything i get wrong i hammer into my brain until i can't get it wrong anymore.

take notes effectively. our brain does not learn in sentences and paragraphs. it learns in bullet points, diagrams, and figures--and that's how i like to frame my notes. first i ask myself if i actually need to take notes to begin with, or if there are online notes out there i can use to save time (which, as a stem student, there typically are). if i do decide to take notes, i never mindlessly summarize. i always condense the material into bullet points, diagrams, concept maps, or visual representations. i also like to phrase my notes as questions rather than just passive summaries, so that when i review them i'm already testing myself in a way. most people would not understand my notes bc they're either very low-yield stuff, stuff i'm weak in, or bare-bones fragments of information.

always prioritize weaknesses. if you're weaker at chapter 18 of your textbook vs chapter 1, maybe start with chapter 18. don't spend 6 hours taking notes on chapter 1 if you're already strong in chapter 1. always attack your weaknesses first.

practice practice practice!! so so important. i owe all my As to mock exams, quizzes i make myself, end-of-chapter questions etc etc. imo practice matters a lot more than passive content review.

interleaving concepts helps with retention. an example of this is i like to do biology and chemistry one day, biochemistry and organic chemistry the next day, physics and psychology the day after... i'm not just doing biology all day, every day. another thing i like to do if i'm in a massive rut is i hop between tons of different subjects on the same day, which keeps me from getting bored/helps me understand the subjects better through distinguishing their differences.

retrospective timetable. an example of this is if i find i'm pretty weak in a particular physics topic, the next few days will disproportionately focus on physics over other subjects. inversely, if i just breezed through a biology chapter, the next few days will have less biology than initially planned. i'm constantly going back and revising my study timetable based on my performance of the day, rather than relying on a rigid prospective timetable that doesn't take into account my progress.

less passive learning, more active. spaced repetition is a big one. i love anki for this bc there's an algorithm that dictates how often topics come up again based on how well you answer them. other methods include active recall, having friends quiz you, and trying to teach the topic to others (or the plushie in your bedroom haha). if you find you're struggling to simplify topics and explain them, that's a sign you don't understand them very well yourself.

[tammyu-2]

haii!! could i request a sir pentious x gn!reader hcs? the reader is a resident of the hotel + a close friend of charlie/nifty! they enjoy studying history and since sir pentious' time period is the reader's new hyperfixation and then asks to interview him and so they start hanging out way more often, getting to know one another, gettimg drinks (almost everyone in the hotel thinks they're dating lmao) and soon start catching feelings but BOTH are idiots (1. Cause sir pentious is sir pentious and 2. y/n is SUCH a bookworm/dork that they have no social skills)

HE'S SUCH A CUTIE IN THIS GIF!! 😭💌

OH I LOVE THIS IDEAAA

SIR PENTIOUS A BOOKWORM READER THATS A RESIDENT AT THE HOTEL

Swearing, not proofread, no pronouns mentioned, very wholesome and cutesy

Okay let's get do this

One day you were rereading 'The cruel prince' while having a warm cuppa when you got a call from Charlie asking for you to help out with her hotel. Now you really didn't like doing Manuel labor so you agreed to be a resident so that more people will be encouraged to visit the hotel for redemption.

So you packed your bags (with an extra suitcase just with your books in it) and whisked off to your free vacation at Charlie's hotel. Once you got there you were greeted by a very excited Charlie and the usual stoic Vaggie by her girlfriends side. Charlie introduced you to the few guests that were at the hotel like Niffty (who you seem to have common interests with), Angel dust, the mother fucking Radio demon, Husker and youwere about to meet that last when Charlie realized he was there.

"Wow that's strange I saw him here this morning... Husk have you seen Sir Pentious?"

"Why would I know I'm not a fucking baby sitter."

"I'm sure he's around her some-"

The wall explodes beside them revealing the one and only Sir Pentious.

"I HAVE ARRIVED WITH PRESENTSS BECAUSSE I HAVE HEARD IT IS GOOD TO GIVE YOUR FRIENDSS PRESENTSS!"

"SIR PENTIOUS WHAT DID WE SAY ABOUT BLOWING UP WALLS!?"

So once you got more acquainted with the hotel and the people you got to know them more. You were really close to Niffty and Charlie. You and Sir Pentious barely talked most of the time because you were both are socially anxious so it's just awkward.

You and Niffty and Charlie started up a book club and you ended all reading a book that was placed in the Victorian era which you got addicted to. Soon you started reading more and more books of the Victorian era and it eventually spiraled into you getting a massive Hyper fixation on it. Like you were writing foot long essay for nobody but yourself.

Eventually it was all you could talk about most of the time. And while you were talking about this book you recently found and finished Sir Pentious happened to over hear your conversation.

"Excusse me misss but I can't help but inquire that you are into the Victorian Erra."

"Yes I am actually! It's my new hyperfixation!!"

"Well I happened to come from that decade-"

"YOU WHAT!?"

So you did the only reasonable option and dragged him away and asked him every single detail about what his life was like before he died. And eventually the conversation went off from his old life and you two talked for hours on end and you hadn't realized it until it was dark outside through the windows. And soon enough you guys get close. Like REALLY close. You become his lab assistant while he read the books you recommend him.

You both know what the other is gonna say before they even form the thought into words. You two are basically attached to the hip and always atleast talk everyday. His egg boys love you. They sometimes call you mom making Sir Pentious knock them upside on their little egg heads. You two are so close that eventually the hotel members start questioning things.

"I must say you are Sir Penpen have grown rather close heheh. Are you guys special buddies like Charlie and Vaggie!?"

"W-what! I don't think it's- um... we aren't that close. We are just friends is all Niffty."

"Okay!"

It eventually becomes a run along joke that the members just brush over. For a few examples:

"Eveyone get into pairs we are splitting up for the horse and that mean the visitors aswell! So the two loved birds Y/n and Sir Pentious can do the second floor-"

"THE TWO WHAT!?"

And even Alastor does it

"My my I see you've grown quite acquainted with that serpentine scientist it seems."

"What do you want Alastor."

"I mearly want to make a deal with you that involves you getting your little lover-"

"ALASTOR WHAT THE HELL!?"

And although the hotel members will relentless be blunt about your obvious connection with one another. You and Sir Pentious are still clueless as hell. Well, more him than you actually. Because let's be honest, you're a book lover. OFCOURSE YOUR A HOPELESS ROMANTIC. And of course you know your crush on him. But you're not gonna do anything about it because you don't have the social skills for that, so the best you can do is pine from a far.

Now you see- our sweet baby boy Sir Pentious is new to this. Because he's never experienced love before even when he was alive. He never gave himself the chance to. Now you show up in his life and suddenly hell doesn't feel like hell anymore. He wakes up every morning with the only motivation being your smile and goes to sleep excited to see you again the next day even though you litrally live in the same hotel. He talks about you to anyone that is in ear range when you aren't. He doesn't know what this feeling is but all he knows it it's fun to have. Eventually Husk bluntly explains love to him but unfortunately Sir Pentious goes the extra mile and disguises his like for you as a "experiment".

So basically he tries to pursue you but in his head he is just doing this as an experiment and not because he has fallen deeply inlove with you. And he 100% does the thing that he did with Cherry bomb.

"Uhh Y-Y/n I was wondering if you would like to grab a- uh...coffee with me?"

"You want to grab a coffee with me?"

"UH.. because I um. Am getting coffee with EVERYBODY!"

Oh this poor baby is trying his hardest..

From an outsider perspective you guys are so annoying because you like each other but neither one of you has the guts to stick it out and actually tell the other how they actually feel upfront. So it's a longgggg slow burn that is exhausting for everyone but with you two it never gets old.

How was that? Was it good??? I hope it was cause I actually clocked in early for this one.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

Toodlesssss

~Tammy<3

[roguephenon]

Finally here with the start of my Kuki and DCFDTL analysis

Pt. 1: On the portrayal of the characters 

In this essay, I talk about how Kuki and the delightful children in your fic play a huge role in exploring the theme of what it means to grow up in the “right way”. This is done in tandem with Nigel’s own journey of the hard choices you need to make in doing so. Before I begin, I will take this moment to gush about the characters separately. And can I just say that I absolutely love the way you write Kuki because you’re one of the few people that actually Get It. She’s always been a fave of mine because she was like my first instance of Asian rep in children’s media. Out of all the sector v kids, she was the only one who I felt embraced the being a kid aspect more. Maybe it came across as not taking things as serious especially when you compare her with characters like Nigel whose taking it so serious he’s like a mini James Bond. But honestly she’s simply a gal with a lot of whimsy still in her and is sometimes cheeky abt it. I know I’m probably reading too much into it (which is funny cuz that’s literally what I’ve been doing in your ask box now that I think abt it oops) but I always had this lil hc that she’s aware, at some level, of her position as the youngest and the fact that there’s a looming deadline on staying a kid with her friends. She would be the only member of sector v left as everyone would’ve moved on without her (good lord she might even go thru the decom process alone too). & I rlly related to that as a kid who knew that she’d have to sit thru extra tutorial sessions & extracurriculars the moment I hit a certain age. So she probs deals with that by living each day like a surprise party is coming. 

In your fic, I liked that she was the first person Nigel sees again since OP Interviews. It immediately gives the readers the impression of “Oh something definitely changed.” Was that intentional? It carries the same feeling of going back to a childhood haunt and it not feeling the same which what a way to plant the seeds of the themes and all. And her being the Soopreme leader is so (chef’s kiss). If there’s one thing abt me that I’m sure of is that I would always support a char that everyone underestimates ☝️. I always hated the fact that she has always been described as the “flirt” in most supplemental material like WHERE?? Like sure she mostly just gets carried away cuz she’d rather have fun elsewhere that’s my undiagnosed inattentive adhd rep right there. But as I was reading this fic, I could see that you have given her character justice since chap 2. It really came full circle when you had Genki reveal why Kuki got her name. You took something that, in meta and in Canon, had been used as a comedic gag/diss against her (her airheadedness) and you reframed it into something meaningful that captures her character succinctly—a breath of fresh air. I gasped out loud reading it at like 1 am in my timezone. You absolutely got it. I know that you technically did the same with the other characters (and yes there’s much I can also gushbabout that) but this instance in particular rlly got to me as someone who was a fan of this character since I was like 10 myself. 

In a fic with a premise like this that has the stakes raised significantly higher, it would’ve been easy and expected to have the cheerful character turn jaded and serious. And there are instances of this being true like Kuki essentially having to step up and rlly mature into a role with significant generational emotional baggage to it. A literal cursed atlas burden even. But what I like about your portrayal is that you have Kuki herself realise that yes, she was thrusted into a role that’s absolutely bananas but she can still make a banana split with it, y’know? She can be capable and more responsible but still have the capacity in her heart to hold on to that child-like wonder. She can put the needs of kids above her own and still find a way to put her loved ones first, rules be damned. Sometimes you can have your cake AND eat it too (pun definitely intended). I liked how you framed her as the last supreme leader cuz I always saw it as her being the first supreme leader to break free of the tragic cycle that comes from the role.  

Which brings me to my next topic…The Doomed by the Narrative Children from Down the Lane. Coming soon in an ask box near you!

🥹🥹🥹 I’m so flattered to receive such an essay, this has been bringing joy you have no idea.

I’m also so happy to hear you enjoyed my portrayal of Kuki and it resonated with you. She’s always been a fave of mine too, even when I was a kid watching the show! She holds an even deeper meaning to me now, which is why one main thing I needed to do when coming back to finish this was to give her story (and by extension her family) a resolution that did them justice.

And if you’re reading too much into things with that HC then I suppose I am as well because I have a similar one!!! It’s definitely something I keep myself aware of when writing her character. Especially here for this big finale.

I started this fic almost 15 years ago so it’s hard to say what my exact goals were, but I like to think it was intentional to give younger-kid me grace! Despite obvious changes over time, from draft 1 Kuki was ALWAYS meant to be the first one Nigel meets upon returning to Earth and she was always meant to be the Supreme Leader. “Somewhere Only We Know” was a song that inspired a lot of the initial creation of this fic and I definitely think I wanted to weave some of that bittersweet feeling into the narrative, even all the way back then.

It’s also why sector V never fully returns to their treehouse until the very end but that’s a whole other thing haha.

I feel similar feelings on the whole “Flirt” aspect too, don’t worry. I both understand it and not understand it at the same time, but did my best to tackle it anyway!

It would’ve been easy to make her jaded. It would’ve easy, expected, and I think at one point maybe I almost did it. But things that are really worthwhile don’t come easy and I’m glad I remembered that in the end. I try and sum it up the best I can with her last heart to heart moment with Nigel.

Everyone, and Kuki herself even, thinks her whimsy and happiness is a mask. I just wanted to propose that’s just a silly, limiting story she’s been conditioned into believing from both in-canon and fandom meta perspective.

I HAVE to get into characters heads to convey their story. That’s something a mentor pointed out to me once and told me to embrace. So, this is going to sound silly, but I let Kuki write what she believed is the true ending to her story, and that speech to Nigel is what she chose. At least, my interpretation of her. Everyone has a different perspective!

Sorry if that sounded so sappy 😅

But again, thank you so so much for this. I gladly look forward to future essays, they’re amazing 🥹

[juniusgirl]

I am, as a rule, Very Bad at video games. Didn't play them much growing up, game logic is something that does not come naturally to me, i often have a hard time remembering buttons and controlling both movement and camera simultaneously.

But i like games as like, an art form. I especially love watching essays about them, because then i can get all the sweet art analysis without having to frustrate myself. So of course i watch a lot of Jacob Geller videos. And a lot of the time i get just that out of them; all the analysis without having to deal with the frustration (i would not, for instance, be able to play returnal for a multitude of reasons, but i love the concept). Sometimes, however, he will talk about a game and i'll say "that actually sounds very interesting and doable to me", and given my forgetfulness, i will write down the name of the game or tell it to my husband and eventually i might play it, and given my forgetfulness, i won't usually remember any spoilers.

So i was excited, as usual, to watch the most recent Jacob Geller video. But quite quickly, it brought up a game i was actually planning on playing--Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice. I saw a trailer for it years ago, perhaps my husband even showed it to me to say "looks like your kinda thing" and i was like "it really does", and my husband bookmarked it and bought it when it was on sale, and it's been waiting for me. But i was scared to play it, because i am Very Bad at video games, and it looked so interesting, and i was worried i was going to ruin it for myself by being so disasterously bad at such basic tasks as walking and looking where i was going and getting frustrated and giving up and feeling like an idiot and a failure for letting something that's supposed to be fun defeat me because i'm stupid and and and.

But i started the Geller video, and the game was almost immediately mentioned, and i thought "actually i can't get spoiled for this one. I will actually remember this time because this one has actually been on my mind and i have actually wanted to play it for so long that i have to experience it in my own way before i have someone else's interpretation."

So i told my husband that i have to play it soon. And he waited a day or two for me to say i was ready. Then he decided i needed a nudge (i did), and set it up for me, sat me down, handed me the controller, and said good luck.

I made my way through the first bit. I handled everything better than i thought i would, only died three or four times (only one of those a non-combat idiocy issue) before he wandered back in to check up on me.

He sat and watched as i got to my first boss fight, and while i struggled a few times, i beat it around my fourth try, and he seemed genuinely impressed. Said by that fourth try he actually saw skill and timing instead of my usual panicked button-mashing.

I dunno how much of that was just hype-up or sincere pride, but either way it made me feel good. I have always been so bad at games, and most people i've tried to play with were merciless about my ineptitude, it's just so nice to have that encouragement for something challenging instead of being shamed. I think that might have been the first time i ever felt good about accomplishing something; the first time i ever did something i found really difficult and then was excited to keep going instead of just being relieved it was over. All because of a few positive words.

Idk what the point of this little anecdote was. Maybe i just wanted to document something positive that happened because life's been really, really shitty lately. But there might be a lesson in there somewhere.

[keresnotceres]

MW2 CHARACTERS: School AU

[sfw] cw(s): none !!! As a girlie who has been reading fanfiction for god knows how long, it was inevitable that I came through with a High/Secondary School AU. As a reminder, I don’t know shit abt the British school system so we’re going with my experiences with the American public school system. enjoy dovies <3

Ghost is that one upperclassman in every single one of your co-grade classes that just sits there. He doesn’t say a damn word and you don’t even see him writing down any notes, but somehow, he has the best grades in the whole fucking school. Principal’s honor roll, scholarship recognization galore.

It takes so long for you to work up the courage to talk to him and ask him for help on an assignment and when he admits he doesn’t know they had an assignment to do, you’re a bit dumbfounded. You realize that he quite literally just sits there and vibes the entire time. He proceeds to turn back to the window and stare out of it.

Eventually he warms up to you, though. It takes, like, three months of pestering him until he actively begins conversations with you and you find yourself with a very stoic cheat sheet. He has kept all of his tests and is perfectly fine with just giving you them bc what are morals???

Gaz is the local “i know him but we aren’t friends” kid. Literally everybody knows his name, he’s on the school’s soccer (football, i guess) team and is relatively well known as a nice person, but he only has a few close friends. His grades are also insanely high, you don’t understand how he manages to ace every test while also spending most of his time practicing sports.

He’s the type of person to forget a pencil, however, and usually ends up leaning over to whoever is next to him and asking for one. He usually gives it back, unless it’s someone he doesn’t particularly like. When he tries to give it back to you and you just tell him to keep it, he likes you automatically.

He’s always inviting you to watch his games after the two of you get closer. He also sits with you during shared study halls or lunches regardless of if you or he has other friends in the lunch. Gaz is also the type of person to lean over and ask if you wanna share the copy of an assignment document or swap essays to proofread.

Soap is absolutely the really loud jock kid that people either really like or really hate, and there’s just no in-between (i’m so sorry Foap 😭). Despite this, he’s actually one of those really nice sport boys that will start punching if someone disrespects his friends. He’s also in an abundance of art classes.

In class you can see him scribbling down notes until he gets bored and starts just doodling in his notebook, tuning out the lecture. However, if your science teacher decides today is not a teaching day and puts on something like Bill Nye or The Magic School Bus, he is enraptured. Is also the person to quietly chant “Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!” during the theme song. Used to hate the Amoeba Sisters until he binged their videos before his Biology final lol.

You start being friends with him on complete accident after you help him with a question on a pop quiz. He gave you puppy eyes! How could you refuse! He proceeds to talk to you the next day like the two of you are best friends and you are now stuck with him until graduation. But hey! You basically have a bodyguard now.

Price is an Honors English and AP Literature teacher through and through. He originally wanted to be a history teacher, but the English position was open and he took it with little complaint. He’s absolutely the teacher you can launch into tangents for the entire class and will take half a point off of your essays for misusing a comma.

If you're his favorite student, he tends to grade your FRQs and other assignments much harsher than he would others, but it ends with you having well rounded essay skills afterwards and acing your assignments later in the year. Will let you hang out in his room during your study halls and is always open to helping you on assignments if you ask.

Hangs thank you notes from students on his walls, has a wild collection of them and shows them off any time another teacher asks him about them. Has cried reading some from students he liked having in his classes.

Laswell is a Geometry, Pre-Calculus, and Calculus professor. Idc what u think she is absolutely a math teacher and would absolutely have a doctorate. People who don't like math probably go into her class also not liking her, but come out at the end of the year wanting to be in her class next year.

If you're one of her favorite students, she absolutely gives you little notes on your graded tests like 'good job :)' and always says she's proud of you if your grades improve during the year. She also lets you and your friends eat lunch in her room because she understands why you'd rather be in a math room than the cafeteria.

Has never been seen without a coffee during the first four periods of the day and a random beverage during the last three. She always has a drink with her and it's become a bit of a game between a few of her students. Sometimes she'll give someone who asks a drink as well. A student she particularly liked tried to pay her to bring them coffee; she gave them their money back and brought them a coffee.

Nikolai is a history teacher that also coaches the school golf team. And yes, golf team; that man radiates golf energy and I cannot be told otherwise. He doesn't understand the kids' obsession with things like Kahoot, but makes them because it keeps kids engaged with the class and mostly keeps grades up.

Being one of Nikolai's favorite students is hard if you don't golf, but if you are a favorite, he tends to give you extensions of assignments if you're struggling to find time/motivation. Also will give you candy under the table if you win a Kahoot, or if you visit him during a study hall he will also give you candy. He gives out Smarties (the American version) because he thinks the name is funny.

If you show interest in learning Russian and ask him how to roll your Rs or how to pronounce the Cyrillic letters, he will automatically like you more than the others. As long as he feels like you're earnestly learning it out of interest and not just to make him like you, that is. If you already know Russian he'll like you anyway. Sometimes it's nice to speak his native tongue.

[sage-basil]

Log hora for the ask!

Dying to know about the male top three lmao

this is the real reason we're here

3 male characters I love:

Eins

William Massachusetts

Rundelhaus Code

3 female characters I love:

Nureha

Takayama Misa

Rayneshia El-Arte Corwen

3 romantic ships I love:

TouEi (no one expected this)

LeoCope

uhh in general lgh is an outlier among my likes and awakens a slumbering shipper in me, but I'm actually more of a nuance than romance enjoyer. don't have a third one i can subscribe to with my whole chest

3 platonic dynamics I love:

Silver Sword

the junior group of Log Horizon the guild (with an asterisk)

Nazuna and Soujiro Seta (read: girl one day you'll have to ditch his crazy ass)

3 favorite moments in canon:

so many. in volume 12. god. Eins' final push before leaving. Elisa comforting Rayneshia. Shiroe meeting Touri and appraising him. Eins' and Touri's conversation during the night. Isaac's parting words. etc etc. i unironically cry when i read all that but i'm also crazy

Leonardo and Coppelia looking at the stars in v9

Rundelhaus and Touya meeting with Eins in v14

3 favorite headcanons: time to pick the most normal ones that don't require writing an essay to justify my reasoning

William is autistic. So are Pianississimo and Dincron. Autism is stored in the elf

a propos that. I think WIlliam is deep Tolkien nerd. Got good at English to read Silmarillion in original level deep. His favourite character/thing ever is canonically Legolas, but in the novel he is not blond and from that i can draw my own conclusions. As to why he'd make himself an elf archer with silver hair. Appendices and legendarium and genealogies reasons

Isaac is bi (with some aro flavour)

3 least favorite things about it:

oh loghora women i wish you were in a better series. reading about "female powers" gets nauseating after. well, it's like that from the start

Plant Hwyaden (with the exception of Nureha, though there's a different problem with how the writing treats her). Not even because they are antagonists, but because all of them are so cartoonishly evil I can't help, but find them annoying. All the locations in the west are also described as (beautiful) dens of all the evil of the world, as if the author suddenly got allergic to nuance

the incredibly weird narration bit that all of the world is overcome with lawlessness and dog-eat-dog mentality BUT NOT JAPAN. Because Japanese people are so used to law and order and that's why they could organize themselves so well into a functioning society. Technically it's a character saying that, but as it's the only time we get this sort of exposition, it's impossible to escape the impression that it's the author's words and not the case of an unreliable narrator. The argument of loving order and structure does come up a few times in the story on separate occasions. (in the similar vibe vein, so to speak, the idea that "dictatorship doesn't always have to be bad" gets brought up in the story)