#i just wanted to draw something to calm me down from new-semester-stress

[artsy-arts]

A gloopy Taako man from yesterday

[likeastarstar]

The House Call

Summary: As a full time grad student and part time drug dealer, you have a lot on your plate and Namjoon being a shitty school project partner is NOT helping, ok?!

masterlist.

Okay, so you were a drug dealer.

Nothing major! It was just weed, which would be legalized quickly, given the way the rest of the world was going. It was just to get you through grad school, you only sold to friends. You kept your circle tight, not many people even knew you dealt. You were very selective, which is why when Seokjin asked to share your number with his friend, you were unsure. But he was your most reliable customer, so his friends must be too.

What made it even worse was that he apparently was too busy to meet up at your usual drop spot- insisting to pay extra if you did a house call instead. You agreed, obviously, but still. It was annoying.

You had things to do, there was a huge project due the next morning and your partner hadn't done his part of it. He looked smart enough when you were paired up- he had glasses and everything. How were you supposed to know he was lazy as shit.

A buzzing in your pocket interrupted your internal rant- who the hell was calling you this late at night?

"Hello?" You snapped, letting your bad mood seep through your tone.

"Uh, hi- I had a question about the project."

Namjoon- your project partner. Of course. You groaned, walking up the steps to the apartment complex to where you were meant to drop off the weed. All of your conversations with this new customer had been through Jin, a fact that you regretted deeply.

"Get it over with, you know you really should've done this sooner," You sighed, checking the apartment numbers twice before knocking on the door.

"I normally would've but I've been really stressed, ok?" He apologized, a shuffling sound coming through the line.

You rolled your eyes as the door in front of you opened, revealing-

"Namjoon," You gasped, taken aback. He was Jin's friend? What are the odds. You hung up quickly, raising your eyebrows dramatically, "What are you doing buying weed instead of working on our project?"

He looked shocked himself, towering over you with his phone still pressed to his ear. He was dressed more casually than you were used to seeing, his hair disheveled in a way that oddly looked better than when he tried to tame it.

"I told you I was stressed," He mumbled, "Come in. I didn't know you were a dealer."

"I didn't know you smoked," You bit back, rolling your eyes.

You pursed your lips but stepped into his place, looking around curiously. It was nice, decorated in a way you wouldn't have expected from a 20 something year old boy. His place was relatively clean, other than the multiple empty cup noodles placed in random areas and the insane amount of paper laying around, "is this all schoolwork?"

"I'm taking a lot of classes," He shrugged, "How much is it?"

"Uh- thirty," You answered, picking up the nearest piece of paper. It was for micronutrients in the human body. the human, a class you had taken two semesters ago on a whim. "No wonder you're stressed out."

He handed you the money wordlessly, trading you for the paper in your hand. You looked at him for the first time since you walked in, only now noticing the dark circles under his eye and the way he had seemingly bitten his lower lip raw. You groaned, feeling all of the annoyance you had minutes ago turn into sympathy.

You shoved the money in your pocket and handed him his weed, pulling your backpack off your back, "Get high, take a break."

"I can't take a break right now, I'm so fucking behind on all of my classes-"

"Chill, I'll help you. Light up, we'll work on the project together and then I'll help you on micro. I got an A in it, I'll tutor you."

So that's what you did, working through the mountain of shit he had piled up in his living room side by side. You never really noticed how funny he was before, both unintentionally and intentionally. He offered your own weed to you and you accepted, feeling nice and relaxed by the time you had gotten around to tutoring Namjoon on other subjects.

"Do you understand it a little more now?" You asked, looking up at him. He was sat beside you on the couch, thighs touching yours with an arm stretched behind your head on the couch. He nodded and frowned, correcting his work and leaning towards you to show you. "Y-yeah, that's right."

He smelt really good- like sandalwood and honey. You couldn't help but stare at the way he was sucking his cheeks in in concentration. Why the hell was this guy a environmental science major? He could be a model.

"You're a really fast learner," You noted, your voice soft and hazy, the way it always was when you were high.

"You're a good teacher," He mumbled, smiling sleepily at you.

He looked so cute you couldn't help it, leaning forwards to kiss him. Namjoon was caught off guard, freezing for a moment but his lips were soft and his skin was warm, drawing you in before you snapped back to reality, pulling away sharply.

"I shouldn't have done that," You gasped, leaning away from him awkwardly. You had to get out of here- eyes already searching for your belongings. Embarrassment crept up on your skin, heating your cheeks. Maybe you could blame it on being reallt fucking blazed, which you were.

"No," He said suddenly, catching your arm with a hand around your wrist, "I should've done it."

What?

"Why do you think I wanted to be your partner for this project?" He smiled, eyes lighting up in a cute way you hadn't noticed before.

"Um, because I'm the smartest person in class?" You guessed, playing with his large hand idly. His fingers felt good between yours, tingling shocks sparking in the places where his skin touched yours.

He laughed softly, nodding sheepishly, "That too- but more than a good grade, what I wanted was you. Part of the reason I'm so behind in class is because all I do during lecture is stare at you- you're not very good at controlling your facial expressions, did you know that?"

You pulled your mouth into a tight line, smiling awkwardly. It was true, you had been known to show every thought passing through your mind on your face. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"You're really scary," He shrugged plainly, as if it were just an obvious fact. "You yell at me a lot which makes me nervous and horny at the same time and I've been trying to figure out whether that means I'm a freak or not."

"It's a good thing I enjoy yelling at you," You noted, more to yourself than him.

"You can yell at me whenever you want, baby," He said jokingly, grinning down at you. Holy shit, he had really nice teeth.

You barely had time to process his words before his lips were on yours, leading the kiss this time. His hand cradled the side of your face, thumb stroking your still flushed cheeks delicately as his other arm wrapped around your waist. You placed your hands on his shoulders, squeezing the muscle under your palms and pulling him closer to you. Namjoon guided you onto his lap, holding you closer him. God- he was warm and strong and so, so soft.

His hands stayed in their polite place at your waist, kneading into the flesh of your sides with a purpose. Namjoon was a good kisser- an easy balance of dominant and soft. He knew where to push and pull, reading your body like it was second nature to him. First kisses could be awkward, but this one was perfect.

His tongue licked a tentative swipe along the edges of your mouth and you reached up to sink your hands in his hair, pushing his head to the side slightly as you parted your lips and allowed him to deepen the kiss. His tongue was soft against yours and he tasted like smoke and something sweet, your favorite strain of weed invading your senses.

"We should do this more often- maybe not the tutoring thing, but this- the kissing thing," He said, parting from you for a moment.

You nodded eagerly, pulling him back towards you, "Yeah, definitely- the kissing thing. Maybe if I give you enough time to stare at me outside of class, you'll do better too. I really can't date anyone below a 3.5 GPA you know."

"Okay, calm down," He pouted, narrowing his eyebrows at you, "I have a 3.8."

"I have a 3.84," You bragged, "Don't worry, I'll tutor you."

He stifled a laugh and began kissing you again. You smiled and reminded yourself to thank Kim Seokjin for asking you to make a house call.

(A/N: giiirrrl what the hell? I don't have a 3.84 in my program...maybe I should've gone into a creative writing grad program instead....LMAO)

[seijorhi]

hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !

Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation

Helping Hand

There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.

It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.

Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.

Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.

So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?

You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice. 

Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.

“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”

His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise. 

Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.

You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot. 

It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”

You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.

You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole. 

Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.

The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.

It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-

Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one. 

- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.

It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.

No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror. 

He hasn’t moved. 

He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?

W-why isn’t he moving away?

Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.

“Wh-”

A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”

He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”

With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort. 

It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.

Will he hurt you if you try and resist?

Is he gonna hurt you anyway?

You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...

Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-

Your stomach drops.

Weeks. 

He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.

His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness. 

A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more. 

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.

A faint burst of hope flickers to life.

You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.

Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.

What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.

Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.

It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.

Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.

While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.

The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.

The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.

Why you?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this?

“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.

You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-

Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”

He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.

Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.” 

Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.

He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.

And really, what other choice do you have?

It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes. 

Only for a moment. 

Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-

Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s. 

“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.

The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.

The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”

His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”

[harryspet]

good girl. bad habits. [1] peter parker

[Warnings] alpha!peter parker x omega!reader, omegaverse, boarding school au, dystopian au, soultmate au, spanking, teacher/student, physical abuse, misogyny, plot now/porn later 

A/N: warnings should be explanation enough! this is probably going to have two parts :)

POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which you’re forced to attend a school for Omegas and you meet an Alpha that’s destined to shake up your world. 

word count: 4.2k

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taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone​ @buckysugar​ @yanderepeterparker​ @ttqueen05​ @belleknows​ @write-from-the-heart​ @sad-ed-noise​ @quaksonhehe​

Wanda grabbed your hand, examining your nails with wide eyes, “Where did you get nail polish?” She whisper-shouted, trying not to draw attention to the two of you in the large auditorium. There were rows of girls surrounding you, all of them lacking any sort of individuality because of the stupid dress code. 

“I traded for it,” Wanda raised an eyebrow and you sighed, “I’m doing her homework for Mr. Rogers for the next week. Worth it, right? Red looks good on me.”

Wanda gave you a disapproving look but you were quite used to it, “Trading?” Wanda scoffed, “You make it sound like we’re in prison.”

You only frowned, folding your hands in front of you, “That’s the only word I would use to describe it.”

Before Wanda could argue, the deafening sound of a microphone blasted through the auditorium, signalling that the assembly was about to begin. Mistress Romanoff stepped onto the platform, wearing her usual striking red hair and a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. All the male teachers lusted for the Beta woman but you only felt jealousy. You wished your uniform skirt hugged your curves rather than dropping to your knees. 

She carried the mic with her, clipboard in hand that held the contents of the meeting. It was the crack of dawn and you were running on little sleep but that wasn’t anything special for you. If you wanted anytime to yourself, you had to utilize the time after midnight which meant you often forgoed sleep. 

“Good morning, ladies,” She addressed you all, her face lacking a smile or compassion, “You’ve already completed two months of the semester. A majority of you are passing your classes with flying colors. I hope you finish the semester just as strong as you started it ….”

That two months felt like a year to you. You’d spent the summer in a detention center and you were apparently “lucky” to be sitting here instead of there. In reality, you preferred the girls at the detention center over this school because they at least had spines. The girls here were mindless followers just hoping to please whatever men they had in their lives. 

“As you all know, at the Stark School, our most popular event is the Halloween Ball. You know, a select few girls are chosen to attend based on merit as a reward for a job well done. This year, I have spectacular news concerning the event that I think all of you ladies will be glad to hear,” There were impatient, excited whispers that roamed over the crowd. You witnessed Wanda whispering something into the ear of the girl beside her. You only yawned, waiting for the assembly to be over, “This year, a select few males from the Asgard School for Alphas will be in attendance-”

Mistress Romanoff was interrupted by an overwhelming reaction from the crowd which consisted of loud squealing and gasps, “Ladies, please calm down. I know you’re all excited but don’t be too rash. There are still several weeks until the Ball. I would advise you all to be on your best behavior and to get your grades up if you want to be considered.”

You wanted to vomit in your mouth. The male teachers were worse enough. Being around young, Alpha males sounded like a complete nightmare. Wanda was freaking out beside you but you had tuned her out. With your current grades and disciplinary record, you’d end up at that Ball when hell freezes over. 

+

You should’ve known that the Halloween Ball would consume everyone’s conversation for the rest of the day. It seemed you were the only one in the entire world that didn’t care. Except for Wanda, you didn’t really have any friends here and today was only adding to that isolation you always felt. 

“Let’s go off script today and talk about our goals and aspirations. I often get a lot of questions from you all about advice on the plans for your future. This isn’t exactly Omega history but I figured we could use history in order to help guide us …”

As you sat in class, your eyes weren’t on the board in front of the class but out the window. The school consisted of long corridors, tall ceilings and tall windows. The ancient building sat in the middle of a forest in an area that you did not know. After the judge decided where you’d spend your senior year, they drugged you and brought you here. 

You were only half listening to Mr. Rogers as he gave today’s lecture. The paint on your nails was far more interesting. Besides that, you hated how people only raised their hands to agree with him. Looking across the room at Wanda, you could see how in love she was with him. 

“Throughout history, we see Omegas taking on a softer and more gentle role in our society, especially in females. Omega females are natural nurturers as well as natural followers. Can someone tell me why this is unlikely to change?”

You rolled your eyes as someone raised their hand, “It’s because it’s in our nature. It’s how the Goddess created us.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Rogers agreed with a smile, “There are leaders in our world and then there are followers. Both positions are equally as important. You can’t have one without the other,” You’d heard this type of lecture a million times and most of the girls at your school gobble it up, “There are a lot of options for omega females. After you meet your mates, the possibilities essentially become endless. There are many nurturing and low stress jobs. I know many Omegas who are secretaries, florists, and even preschool teachers. Most become homemakers and motherhood is the absolute most important job an Omega can have.”

You couldn’t hold in your scoff but, as soon as it left your lips, everyone’s head turned towards you, “What?” You asked no one in particular but to show that you didn’t want to be stared at. 

“Miss Y/L/N, is there something you would like to add to the discussion?” Mr. Rogers asked and, although he was beginning to make your heart race, you only crossed your arms. 

“No, thank you,” You spoke simply. 

“I apologize if I’m boring you but this is a pretty important topic. Why don’t you tell the class your aspirations for the future,” You expected for him to move on but the Alpha seemed to focus in on you. You hated the feeling that crawled under your skin when you looked into his eyes. It was a force, a wall between the two of you to remind you that you were not equal. 

“I’d like to be mate free, far away from this school, and on a beach somewhere rolling in cash,” Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, eyes widened, and the tension grew thick, “Consider it a five year plan.”

“And you expect to make money how?” Mr. Rogers began to pace in front of his desk, an annoyance in his glare towards you.

“I don’t know but hopefully I’ll make more than a teacher,” You grinned. 

Steve stiffened and you saw Wanda look over her shoulder to you. “Stop it,” She mouthed to you. 

“I’ll just move somewhere else. Somewhere they don’t treat Omegas like second class citizens.”

The class erupted in gasps and, for a moment, you felt quite powerful, “Stand up, right now,” Mr. Rogers snarled. You did as he said, knowing you wouldn’t be able to disobey a command. 

You reached down to grab your backpack, “I know, I know … to the Head Mistress’s office,” You rolled your eyes. 

“No, leave your things,” That made you pause and you looked up to see a smirk on his face, “Come up to the front of the class, Miss Y/L/N.”

You let your bag drop to your side with a thud. Everyone around you was still whispering and staring. You felt that power drifting away as you made your way down the aisle and towards the front of the classroom. Skirt too high on your thighs, nail polish on your hands, and an attitude on your face that you were struggling to maintain. 

You stopped a few feet in front of your teacher before he said, “Hands on the desk,” He ordered you. You huffed out a sigh, every bone in your body telling you to obey. You walked past him, putting your hands down on his desk which left you slightly bent over with your backside exposed to the room of forty girls. “This, young ladies, is important for all of you to see. There will always be some who resist their true nature and who cause disruption.”

You heard the sound of him removing his belt from the waistband of his pants and your body cringed. 

You’d heard that things like this happened often here. You heard the head mistress had a secret closet of tools she used on disobedient omegas. You’d never heard of a Professor disciplining a student in front of an entire class. 

You wanted to scream and shout but decided that remaining stoic would save you the most embarrassment. Even as he lifted your skirt, you didn’t say a word, only shut your eyes tightly, “Whatever career path you choose, your mate will have to approve. This is not because you are second class citizens but because your mate will know what’s best for you. Ranks are ingrained within us and, no matter how much we fight it, we still end up in positions like you. If we only stayed in our lanes, others wouldn’t have to enforce their rank.”

The first slap of the belt burned badly. You couldn’t help but cry out as your knees buckled together and you tightly gripped the wood of the desk. 

He kept going, forcing the class to count along as he completely bruised your bottom. He stopped at fifteen but, by that time, tears were already streaming and you were silently weeping.

+

The next few weeks passed in a blur with your usual routine of going through your classes like a zombie and listening to Wanda’s ramblings. Like a lot of girls, Wanda already had an Alpha with his eyes set on her. Bucky Barnes, an older man and well respected Alpha had already staked his claim. Wanda’s current mission was to have as much fun and attention that she could before being forced to settle down. 

You started to notice how Wanda’s usual group of friends was dwindling as she continued to sit with you. Although she often disagreed with your mentality, she still stayed which was more than anyone had ever done for you. 

“Are you really going to run? Escape?” She asked in a whisper as she discussed the forbidden topic. 

“Why would I stay? No Alpha will want me. Not even a Beta would,” You only shrugged, stirring your spoon around your bowl of soup.

“That’s not true,” Wanda insisted, “You just …. you just have to adjust a little more. I think you could be happy eventually if you just played the part for a little while. An Alpha could offer you security.”

You shook your head, “I don’t like the cost. I think I’d rather scrub toilets for the rest of my life.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at your words, “I don’t think you would, Y/N. There’s got to be a part of you, deep down, that wants the stability.”

You didn’t answer the question and you didn’t allow the thought to stay on your mind, “Don’t worry about me, just enjoy your dance. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find another Alpha and you can watch them fight over you.”

Wanda smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes, “That does sound wonderful, doesn’t it?” Not long into your conversation, you felt a tapping on your shoulder and a woman telling you that you’re needed in the head mistress’s office, “What did you do now?”

“Nothing,” You said immediately, grabbing your things, “You can have my pudding cup. I’ll see you after last period.” Wanda only nodded, a look of worry on her face as you were escorted away. 

The woman, who you assumed was some type of secretary, advised you to fix your appearance. The Stark School was like an old castle with vast hallways and tall ceilings of stained glass. Mr. Rogers told the class one time that it had been used as a fort in a war hundreds of years ago. People thought it was an interesting fact but the antiqueness of everything left you feeling creeped out most of the time. 

You arrived at her office after climbing the winding stairs of the tallest tower. Mrs. Potts was waiting by the window when you entered. You kept your hands folded, hiding the nail polish on your fingers as you waited for her to address you. She stared out of the window, out to wear P.E. classes were being held, and your eyes wandered to the large wardrobe in the corner. 

You gulped as you realized that was probably where she kept her weapons of discipline, “How are your studies going, dear?” You turned your head to find her staring intently at you, “Come, sit down.”

You moved forward, obeying the Alpha Females commands, and taking a seat in front of her desk, “Well, I’m not failing anything,” You spoke tersely. 

“I heard,” She nodded, taking a seat behind her desk. She straightened the jacket of her black suit as she folded her hands over the desk, “That’s a big improvement, Y/N. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “To talk about my improvement?” You put the word “improvement” in quotes.

“Exactly, when you first arrived you started with at least one infraction a day. Now you’re down to one a week. I can tell you’re learning and that you’re adjusting well.”

“Are you letting me out of here earlier then?” You asked, your head cocked to the side. 

Pepper only chuckled, “Here’s what I’m offering you - a chance to go to the Halloween Ball.”

“Why would I want that?” You asked.

“When the school year is over, you won’t have many options. If you get back on suppressants, you’ll be caught and end up back in the Council’s bad graces. It’s my job to help you and I don’t want to see that happen,” You could tell that she was being sincere but there was still the ulterior motive of simply getting you out of her hair, “You’ll go to the ball, maybe you’ll meet someone willing to take you in and give you something better than what you can give yourself.”

You frowned, “I’m assuming you’re not giving me a choice.”

Pepper sighed, “You have over fifty infractions, Y/N. Any other student would have been kicked out by now. Just take this chance.”

+

It was quite amusing to you watching the group of boys and girls meet each other. They both seemed to be an inexperienced group of teenagers awkwardly trying to figure things out. The girls stood on one side and the boys stood on the other for the first ten minutes of the dance before a brave boy walked over to ask a girl to dance. Now, the dance was in full swing and you were sitting by the snack table, easing your anxiety with cookies. 

Wanda loaned you a long white dress and allowed you to cut it into something off-shouldered with a slit down the side to expose your thigh. You watched Wanda who was dancing happily in a champagne pink, ruffled dress. 

The Alphas that passed you only stared, probably wondering why you weren’t bashfully batting your eyelids at them. Another thing that added to your anxiety was the energy they gave off. You could handle class with Mr. Rogers but being in the ballroom was putting you on edge. 

You sat through a few more loud pop songs before finally standing up and heading for the exit. As you made it to the door, you heard an out of breath Wanda calling for you. You turned to see her pulling a boy along with her, a look of lust in his eyes as he gazed at her. He wasn’t what made your breath hitch in your throat, it was who was behind him. 

“Y/N, this is Brad,” She gestured to the boy whose hand was interlaced with hers, “And this is his friend Peter.”

Peter. 

Something made you do a double take. You didn’t recognize him but you felt your world shift at the sight of him. You felt your heart rate increase as she felt something foreign … attraction. A kind face that didn’t match those brown eyes that screamed danger. In those few seconds where your eyes lingered on his, you questioned every feeling you’d ever had. 

“I’m going … on a walk,” You told Wanda, not addressing them. 

“Take us with you to get some fresh air,” She winked at you, knowing what you were hinting at. 

Your shoulders slumped but you nodded, “You’re lucky there’s enough in my stash.”

You turned around and pushed open the gymnasium door and led the three of them into the hallway. The four of you did your best to avoid any chaperones, dipping into a custodian's closet when you heard the tapping of heels coming your way. Like you had planned it, you switched on the light and ran your eyes over the many shelves. 

“How did you even get it?” Wanda whispered. 

They did bed checks often and a lot of the administrators were fond of combing through your dorm room thoroughly. 

“I’m cool with the janitor,” You answered simply, shrugging. As you found the empty container for disinfecting wipes, you reached in to find what you were looking for. You felt the young Alphas eyes burning into you as you presented it to the group. 

A flask. 

+

You tilted the silver container back, swallowing quickly in an attempt to not taste the vile liquid. Not meeting his eyes, you held the flask out to the side for him to take. The four of you were making your way to the lake. Wanda and Brad, stuck in their own world, had wandered ahead which left the two of you to awkwardly walk beside each other down the dirt path. 

When he didn’t take it, you glanced at him, “I don’t think that’s going to get me drunk,” He said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. His tie was undone, hanging around his neck and the first few buttons of his white shirt were undone. You couldn’t help that your eyes lingered on the skin of his chest and he seemed to notice. He flashed you a curious look but you turned your head again. 

“Suit yourself,” You took another sip, scowling as you pulled it from your lips. 

The four of you arrived at the lake and it seemed Brad and Wanda couldn’t keep their hands off of each other any longer. After taking a big swig out of the flask, she told you that she and Brad were going to go “check out” the storage cabin where the school kept lake gear. She giggled as he pulled her away, leaving the two of you along on a picnic bench, staring out onto the eerie, dark water. 

“What’s your last name?” He asked and a part of you was frustrated that he was trying to make small talk with you. 

“You wouldn’t know my family,” You said simply. 

“Try me,” He challenged you like the cocky Alpha you assumed he was. 

“They’re dead, it’s not like it matters.”

“How?” He continued, “How did they die?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Do you always ask girls about traumatic topics when you first meet them?”

“You don’t seem like most girls I’ve met.”

“And I guess that’s an excuse?” You scoffed but his expression didn’t change. He seriously wanted to know, “They were rogues and they died like everyone else who defies the Council. Happy?”

“I’m sorry,” Was his curt response. 

An Alpha apologizing? You never thought you’d see the day. 

“What’s your last name?”

“Parker,” Your eyes widened as the name left his lips. 

“You’re … you’re Tony Stark’s nephew?” He only nodded, “And you’re saying sorry when your uncle is on the council. When he’s the reason they’re dead. That’s rich.”

“I’m not my uncle,” He stated more firmly than you expected. It took you back for a moment and the two of you stared intensely for a long moment. 

“I don’t care,” His eyebrows tightened and his lips pressed into a rectangle at your reaction, “Even if you don’t want to end up like him, you probably will. It’s a part of your nature,” You spoke, mocking the words you heard all day long in class. 

“It’s not a part of my nature to kill those who disagree with me,” Your eyebrows furrowed at his words. 

“How else will you assert your dominance, oh wise Alpha?”

He breathed deeply, sensing how you were toying with him, “A good alpha doesn’t need to kill or rely only on their strength. Alphas who lack the respect of their followers do.”

It deeply confused you that someone like him could think this way. You were quiet for a moment as you thought it over, “Are you saying Tony Stark lacks the respect of his people?”

“They only fear him,” Peter’s eyes seemed to darken even in the moonlight shining down on the two of you.

Pete watched as it clicked within your mind, “And you don’t want to be feared?” As he leaned in closer, you surprised yourself by not pulling away. You felt that same magnetism pulling you towards him, promising you pleasure, but frightening you at the same time. 

His fingers brushed against yours and a shiver went down your spine, causing your lips to part and your eyes to widen, “Control feels much better when it’s instinct. When it’s wanted and desired. That’s real control,” His voice was warm, and surprisingly calm. It made you forget for a moment and drop the walls. Your eyes roamed over his every feature, ever line of his jaw, and ever curl of his hair. 

His eyes wandered down to your lips and you suddenly snapped out of the spell. You stood up from the bench with a start, realizing how deeply you were just staring at him, “I don’t believe in those bullshit rankings,” You stated firmly and he stood up with you, trying to close the distance between the two of you, “They’re all fucking lies.”

You were about to turn away when he grabbed your upper arm. You gritted your teeth as he pulled you into him, “Believe this then. I want you, Y/N.”

“Let go of me,” Your voice was lower than you expected as you stared into those eyes. Why was your voice so weak? “You don't even know me.”

“It’s instinct,” He said, holding your firmly although his grip was tight, “And I can tell that you feel it too. Deep down, you’re searching for someone to take care of you. You want reassurance like they all do.” You tried to look away from him but you just couldn’t. “Someone hurt you badly, didn’t they?” You shook your head, tears starting to sting your eyes. “A girl like you needs someone gentle. Someone to ease you into submission rather than force it.”

You felt like you were melting into him and as his head dipped down to place his lips on yours, that voice in the back of your head was screaming to kiss him back. Your wrist pinned together between you, Peter stole your first kiss and it was a wonderfully terrifying feeling. 

You felt warmth in your core and you tightened your legs together as he began to kiss along your jaw and then your neck, surely leaving marks on your skin, “Peter …”

“Tell me to stop,” He said against your skin. 

The words were on your tongue but it was like your body had switched to autopilot. It wanted his touch and that’s all your body wanted to focus on. When he finally did pull his lips from your skin, your body was still craving that foreign touch. 

Before his hands could roam over the rest of your body, a bright light blinded the two of you and footsteps approached. Peter let go of your skin but you still felt his touch, as Mr. Rogers appeared. You only crossed your arms, looking down at your feet as the two of you were caught. 

“What are you doing out here, son?” Of course, Steve didn’t address you. 

“We wanted to look at the Full Moon,” Peter lied, “My apologies, sir.”

“Where’s Maximoff?”

“We haven’t seen her,” Peter shrugged casually. 

“I’d stay away from this one if I were you. There’s plenty of good girls worthy of your time,” Steve gestured to you but him disliking you was the least of your worries at the moment, “You can head back to the dance, Mr. Parker. I’ll be escorting this one back to the dorms.”

Peter stepped forward, walking past Steve, but he looked back to mouth something to you. 

Clear as day, you could read his lips say, “You’re mine.”

No matter the cost, you decided then that you’d run. Run from this place and from the feeling Peter gave you that made you so weak in the knees. 

+

part two

[hologramband]

One Day p1

Alive!Luke x Fem!Reader Modern AU Word Count: 2.6k A/n: hehehe here’s the first part! I have it mostly planned out, there should be 3-4 parts! Lmk what you think! Summary: A shy girl is used to floating under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, all was well until an opportunity fell into her lap, but what will these new people bring with them?

You were really good at staying right under everyone's radar at Los Feliz. You knew everyone, everyone knew you, but you didn’t have anything more than just a surface relationship with your classmates. You didn’t mind that, it was harder to get hurt this way. You got accepted to the Performing Arts High School with your ability to dance, but have always found your real talent lies within your visual art. Whether you were using paints, pencils, or a pen, you loved the way that your hand flew over the paper and created an image that represented your many different emotions.

In a way it made sense how you loved both dance and drawing, both sharing the flowing of movements to express things that words cannot. It was easier for you to express your emotions and thoughts in these mediums since social connection was hard for you. You had tried it once, really connecting with a person, but it ended up coming back and hurting you, causing you to shut down, so you weren't in a rush to try again any time soon. You floated down the hallways with ease, only having to stop at your locker to grab the remaining textbooks you need for the next few classes. While you were stopped you heard your name called from across the hallway, looking up to see Julie raising her hand in a small wave. “Hey, (y/n)! I like your top!” She came to a stop by your locker smiling. “Thanks! It was my moms, she just found this box of old clothes from when she was in school, this one just really stuck out to me.” You smiled down at yourself and looked back up at the girl to see three boys approaching. You felt heat subtly rise to your cheeks and you tried to focus your eyes on Julie. “Hey Jules, you ready to go to class?” Luke spoke as soon as they reached her side, sending you a nod of acknowledgement when he noticed you standing in front of them. Alex and Reggie both raised their hands with small waves in greeting to you. You smiled in return and turned back to close your locker, swinging your backpack on in the process. “Well, I gotta get to class too, see ya around.” You smiled back at the group and heard Julie call after you. “See you in Art!” You turned slightly and waved in return. Julie and you were pretty decent friends, you talked to her more than anyone else at the school, she had a good balance of how to get to know you without pushing you. You had met the boys a few times in passing, much like the previous occurrence, them not really speaking much more than a ‘hello’ here and there. There was something about Luke though, he never failed to send a storm of butterflies loose in your stomach. He probably didn’t even remember your name, but you could remember all the details of his face, not in a weird way, just in an artistic way, ya know? He had such a coolness about him, like he could totally embarrass himself but brush it off like it was nothing, like he meant to do it even. You thought you were getting better with your anxiety around people, but as soon as that boy was in front of you, it seemed as if your brain forgot how to function. You shook the boy from your thoughts as you continued through your day, classes went by like they typically do, all your general classes like math and english were in the first half of the day, the second half being taken by your dance class and then art. It was simple to say that you much preferred the second half of classes. In dance you went about as normal, running through a few routines and while wrapping up your teacher mentioned something about a new project that would be announced tomorrow. After changing you made your way to your final class where Julie had already arrived and claimed a table for the two of you. “Hi!” she smiled up at you. “Hi! How were your classes today?” You replied, starting a conversation that you hoped would carry throughout the class. You really did like talking with Julie, she was so sweet and really made you feel like she wanted to get to know you. The first day of class she noticed you were sitting alone and she took this as an opportunity to introduce herself, commenting on the particular band tee you had on, being able to strike up a conversation instantly. You admired her for this, the confidence she had when walking in a room was just astounding to you. The two of you went about the class in a way that you similarly would, talking about this and that while sketching away in your respective books, her only pausing to write ideas in her song notebook when an idea would hit. The class you were in didn’t have many actual assignments, just that you needed around 3 small pieces turned in periodically and one larger one for your final at the end of the semester, it made it an easy free flowing environment where there wasn’t too much pressure to stress on any one thing. Before you knew it the ding of the bell was going off overhead and you and Julie started packing up your things, she quickened her pace when she saw the boys waiting at the door for her. “You guys have practice today?” You giggled at her rushed movements. “Yeah,” she laughed as she zipped her bag closed, “Luke and I just finished up a new song too so I’m really excited to get back to the garage to figure out the music behind it.” She smiled up at you and you returned the affection. “Well don’t let me hold you up! Hope it all goes well! See you tomorrow!” You waved to the girl as she ran to the door, only pausing to throw a wave back at you. You laughed and shook your head at the girls' antics and went about your day as usual, starting your walk back home, you didn’t live too far and enjoyed the fresh air and time to recollect after the school day. After getting home you grabbed a quick snack and retreated to your room to finish a sketch that you had been working on in class today. Digging through your bag your heart rate increased when you pulled the red covered book to see the top covered in multiple stickers, this wasn’t your book, it was Julies song book, meaning she was currently in possession of your sketchbook. She must have grabbed yours on mistake when she was packing up quickly. You lightly sighed as you pulled out your phone to text her about the accidental switch-up. She replied instantly just realizing the mistake herself, then invited you over to switch them back and possibly hear some of the songs they were working on, looking for an outsider's opinion. You hesitated in saying yes, did you really need your book back that bad? Sighing, you sent back an okay and asked for an address, as nervous as you were to hang around the guys, more specifically Luke, you remembered how excited Julie was to go over the new song, the one that was probably sitting in the book you were holding in your hands. You threw on a light jacket and grabbed your backpack, for reasons unexplainable to you it just always just felt safer to walk around with a backpack on, and you were on your way to Julies. You could feel your nerves rising with each step you took towards her house, by the time you stood at the end of her driveway you felt like your heart was in your throat. “Calm down, (y/n), it’s just a little hangout to get your book back and hear a few songs, no biggie, nothing to fret about at all.” you whispered to yourself, taking one last deep breath before continuing your walk up her driveway. You had just come into view from the garage when you heard Julie calling out your name. “(Y/n)! How was your walk?” Julie ran out to meet you, now walking beside you into the garage. “It was good! You actually live closer to me than I thought, it was only like a 15 minute walk,” you smiled at her and you continued the small talk until you looked up and met eyes with the brunette guitarist. “(Y/n), these are the guys, Alex, Reggie and Luke,” she introduced them to you and you raised your hand in a wave. “Yeah, i’ve seen you guys perform before, you’re all really good!” you smiled and met each of their gazes. “Thanks! And that was all our old stuff, just wait until you hear what we have coming, um..” Luke stuttered realizing he didn’t know your name. You went to say it but Alex beat you to it. “(Y/n) you idiot,” he hit the back of Luke's head, while rolling his eyes. A blush rose to Luke’s face and he laughed it off. “I-I knew that, I-I just-” “You’re at the school for dance right?” Alex spoke again, interrupting and trying to take the attention off of the stuttering Luke. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah! I’m on a dance scholarship, so that's my main focus but my second is visual art, which reminds me,” You take your backpack off and pull out Julies song book, “here’s this!” She smiles and takes it from you. “Ugh thanks so much, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost this, Reggie can you grab her sketchbook? It’s on the piano!” Julie opened her book and smiled looking at the page. “Oh wow,” you heard Reggie mutter causing everyone to turn to him, “(y/n) this stuff is like, really good.” You blushed and looked down at your feet, you’ve never been good at accepting compliments. “Dude, boundaries!” Julie muttered reaching for the book, but Luke got to it first, taking his own turn looking through the pages. Your heart jumped when he started smiling at the pages he was flipping through, you didn’t have anything in there that you kept hidden, it was just that no one had ever gone through your work before. “You have so many different styles, this one is like a cartoon, but then the next one is like hyper realistic.” Luke looks up to make eye contact and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. Alex took the second of him being distracted to pull the book away from him and hand it back to you. “I’m sorry for them, they still haven’t figured out what it means to respect someone's privacy.” He narrowed his eyes at his two bandmates. “You know,” you opened the book in your hands to search for a particular page, “I actually have something of each of you individually. I sketched them out the night after I saw one of your guys’ gigs.” You scrunch your face in concentration, you feel everyone rush to stand behind you when you finally find it. You look around at them to take in their reactions, their eyes were all glued to the papers you were displaying in front of you, Reggies mouth falling open. “Oh! Is this why you asked for the pictures my dad took of that night?” Julie looked up at you. “Yeah, I wanted to be able to add the details of everyone's chosen instruments and get some added information on where the highlights were from the lights,” you looked at each of their faces again and made a rash decision to gently tear the pages from your book, handing them to each respective person. Each person held them gently in their hands, then looked up to you in amazement. You just shrugged your shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say. “Well,” you looked out the window and saw the setting sun, “I better start my walk back to my house, it’s getting dark and I wanna get back before that happens. Enjoy the pictures guys!” You smile and turn to walk away, all the band still shocked to silence. “She’s never torn a page from her book before,” you hear Julie tell the boys as you walk further down the driveway, smiling to yourself. It was true, you never pull pages from your sketchbook, not this one at least, it was the better quality of all the other ones you had. You typically just used the less expensive books for class, you go through all the pages so quickly you didn’t want to waste the one’s in your higher quality notebook for the rough sketches, but the pages that you drew the band on were in the higher quality notebook, you had taken the time to really get them right, and they turned out fantastic. Your mother had always told you to spread joy where you can, and after seeing all their faces you knew that it was only right to let them have the pages that they were looking at. You arrived home and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, there might be something there with them, an opportunity to make new friends, to open up. This idea makes you both nervous and excited, you let these thoughts and ideas later lull you to sleep. --- The next day at school you were walking to your locker when Julie caught your eye, she was waiting in her phone by your locker door. You would usually see her in passing in the mornings, but this is new. “Hey Julie, what’s up?” You greet the curly haired girl at your locker. “Hey (y/n)! Not much really, just watched to catch you this morning and run an idea past you…” She smiles and looks around her before returning her gaze back to you. “Okay? Is everything alright? You seem nervous,” you giggled at her antics and went back to putting the combination into your locker. “Yeah, yeah, I just know you take a while to open up and get close with new people, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything you aren’t ready for, but the boys and I were wondering if-” She gets cut off by a yell from down the hallway. “JULIE! HAVE YOU ASKED HER YET?” You turn to see all three boys running towards you, Julie facepalming at Reggies yell. “Geez Reg, she literally just got here. There's no need to yell,” Julie rolls her eyes at them and looks back to you. “Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to make more designs and stuff for the band, like for posters and maybe album art one day.” She smiles at you after finishing. “You-you want me to… really?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Yeah! We all really like what you did with those portraits, and you’re pretty chill letting us keep them and all, we want you to be a part of our band, even if it isn’t you on stage with us, you’ll keep things looking cool.” Luke says as he leans against the lockers beside you. “Plus, then you’ll be able to hang out with us more!” Reggie pipes in. They all look at each other then back at you. “So,” Alex smiles at you, “What do ya think?” A million thoughts fly through your mind at once, they really want you to hang out with them more? They liked what you did? You looked at them all, looking back at you, and smiled. “I’d love to.”

tag list ✨

@gia-kerks​ @fangirlangioma​

[tact-and-impulse]

@shepherds-of-haven, thanks for the fun prompts! I’ll be collecting my fics on AO3 as well.

encounter

She really doesn’t belong here.

Her fingers nervously run over the extra card in her pocket, as she scans the undulating crowd for telltale ashen hair and displeased features. It’s difficult, with the rhythmically flashing lights overhead. She’s tried calling, but with the heavy bass tingling in her jaw, it’s no wonder that Prihine hasn’t picked up. What her roommate could be doing in this downtown club, she has no idea, but she also doesn’t know the other girl that well. Prihine is from a wealthy Norm family, she never cleans up after herself, and from her frequent complaints, she loathes that she’s living in an ancient and cramped freshman dorm with a scholarship student who never goes to parties. But if something unsavory has happened to her, that would be awful.

So, she renews her grip on Prihine’s student ID and heads further into the building. She keeps to the walls, which are speckled with colorful paint and feel slightly sticky. But with her back covered, it’s safer this way. At first. Someone is shoved out of the crush, their solid back colliding into her, and she instinctively freezes. The pressure is brief, but she doesn’t wait to hear an apology, before she’s scrambling for the first exit sign in sight. She hurtles into a side street, ignoring the protests of a draft, and turns the nearest corner before collapsing.

The night air is cold, and she inhales lungfuls, trying to calm down. Trying not to cry. She has to find Prihine soon, and then, she can go back to campus. Where her classes are. Where the Mage clubs are filled with people who all know each other from Capra, while she was homeschooled. Where the Hunter organizations talk around her, forgetting she can understand their conversations. She hasn’t felt truly alone in years, but right now-

She isn’t. There’s someone here. She lifts her head and at the end of the alley, only a few paces away, she can make out the silhouette of a Hunter. White hair, gray eyes, a couple of piercings glinting in one ear, tattoos running up and down his arms. He’s crouched and balanced on his heels, an unlit stick of charch between his fingers, as he stares at her. 

“You okay?” His voice is low and placid, like he’s just woken up. 

“I...I just need a minute. I’m not good with crowds in tight spaces.”

“Yeah, I hate it when people breathe on me.”

She vigorously nods in agreement, before realizing. “Then, why are you here?”

“Band has a gig tonight. What about you?”

“I’m looking for my roommate. She forgot her ID, she can’t get back to our dorm without it.”

He gives a skeptical look, tucking the cigarette behind his unpierced ear for safekeeping. “Are you sure she’s in this club?”

While she answers, she takes out her phone. “She hasn’t returned my texts or calls, but she has Instagram. One of her cousins is famous on there, I think, and my roommate’s competitive, so she posts a lot. It looks like she was here in her last one...oh.” She frowns at the website, blocked entirely by a notification. She never did download the app, only searching for clues via Prihine’s frequently used social media, and now she needs an account to continue viewing.

He stifles a laugh, but his expression is only mildly amused as he extends his open palm. “Can I log in and try?”

“Sure. Thank you.” She draws closer to him, passing her device over, and his hand envelops it entirely. His thumbs are almost comically oversized as he types.

“Haven freshman?”

“Yes. Are you an upperclassman?”

“I dropped out a couple years ago. I’m across the street, at the culinary school. Is this the post you mentioned?” He slants the image towards her and she recognizes Prihine’s selfie, taken while she was waiting in line.

“Ah, that’s it! Have you seen her?”

“No, but one of my friends might have. He helps with the band’s publicity, so he’s around. Mind if I ask him?”

“Please, you’d be really helpful. Thank you, um...” 

“Halek.” He supplies, as he dials another guy named Riel, judging by the brief greeting when the call goes through. 

The conversation is short, and she notices the roommate must be from Leore, but she focuses on locating Prihine for the time being, only speaking to provide information and her own name. Riel doesn’t remember seeing the other girl, but he’ll check with security and will call back when they find her. The line dies, and with her phone back in her hands, she hesitates.

Fortunately, Halek pats the adjacent pavement. “Feel free to wait with me. Band’s not on again for another hour, so I’m not leaving.”

Relief sweeps over her, and she sits down, inquiring. “What do you play?”

“None of the others can agree on a genre, but I’m on drums. We perform around town, sometimes on campus if you’ve heard us before.”

“I don’t think so. Sorry.” She reflexively apologizes. “I don’t get out much.” Certainly, nowhere other than lecture auditoriums and the dining halls.

“What’s your major?”

“Biology, I’m pre-med.”

“Ah, that explains it. You’d get along with my twin brother, he’s currently applying and I don’t envy him. Everyone in our family’s invested in his acceptance, since somebody needs to live up to their standards. He’s not at Haven, but I can give you his number if you have questions.”

“I don’t want to bother him, if he’s stressed out.”

“He’s always stressed out though. That’s just how he is.” Nevertheless, his tone is fond.

“You must be close.” She draws her knees up, interlacing her fingers around them. “Your family doesn’t approve of your career?”

“They never did, they wanted me to be a politician.” He makes a disgusted expression. “No thanks. Too much work.”

“It definitely is. Signing papers, holding press conferences. A lot of people would be breathing on you.” She does her best to maintain a straight face.

“Exactly.” His gaze shifts to meet hers, and she’s not sure who breaks first, but in the next moment, they’re both laughing. Her hair’s fallen loose, and as she recovers her composure, she tucks it behind her ears. Not for the first time, he glances at the white streak, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he fishes in his back pocket, removing a small punch card that doubles as an advertisement. “Politics would mean quitting my job at the café too. It’s quiet, we have some Haven students like you.”

She accepts it, noting the offer of a free meal after five purchases. “What kind of food do you serve?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” He pulls up his Instagram, scrolling through vibrant pictures of their daily specials, each plate unique. It all seems appetizing, especially in the short cooking videos. In the clips, his steady fingers arrange sandwiches, work over pans of sizzling ingredients, and decorate confections.

There’s one motion in particular that intrigues her. “How’d you do that? Break an egg with one hand?”

“It’s just easier for me, keeps my other one available.”

“You make it look natural.” She attempts to figure out the trick, imagining an egg in her palm and flexing her knuckles.

“One of the waitresses can do it too.”

“So, is it a hiring requirement?”

He laughs again. “No, the other one breaks every egg she touches. You can meet them and see for yourself. You’d probably get along with them.��� There’s a pause, as he gives a thoughtful expression. “Thanks.”

Too surprised, she stammers. “F-for what?”

“Usually, I’m too tired for these late night gigs, but right now, I feel fine. I can make it through tonight.”

“...Me too.” She softly says. Her earlier panic has been forgotten, and Halek’s presence is comforting. She’s having fun, just sitting out here and talking. Laughing, which she hasn’t in a long time. Already, she feels closer to him than anyone on campus.

Riel’s return call interrupts them, with the news that her roommate is currently detained at the club’s entrance and clearly unhappy by the screeching in the background. It’s her cue to go, and she hastily brushes herself off, thanking Halek again.

“No problem. Are you going back to your dorm?”

“I thought I would.” She hesitates for just a second, before venturing. “Or I can stay? And listen to your band’s performance?”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “If you want, I can let you in backstage. Take a nap, eat the snacks I brought. You don’t have to worry about crowds at all.”

Oh. That’s very kind of him. Her heart skips a beat, and she hopes she’s not blushing. “Okay then. I’d like that. See you soon?”

“See ya.”

Squaring her shoulders, she makes her way to the front. She braces for whatever abrasive words are in store, but she’s made up her mind. For the first time this semester, she’ll try to have an enjoyable college experience.

[tiredb0igivemesugars]

Remus Lupin is good

Summary: y/n is a student at Hogwarts and is now returning for the new semester. A lot has changed during the summer, including but not limited to: the school uniform and name. You were pleased to find that your friends Harry, Ron and Hermione were more than understanding and supportive. Not everyone would be supportive, but you didn’t expect for it to hit you so hard, but luckily the new professor Remus Lupin is there to help you.

Paring: none💚 (platonic/friends Remus Lupin and trans!male reader)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: transphobia, homophobia, slurs, mild swearing and some angst

words: 2.1K

note: I know that the timeline doesn’t add up but just roll with it... also no proof read 

Happy holidays if I don’t post again before the new year <3

The second to last year of your journey at Hogwarts was about to begin, you had gone to Diagon Alley accompanied by the Weasleys and Harry, of course. A lot had changed that summer, the name you had gone by before had been replaced by a masculine name, it was in the process of being changed legally, you had gotten the boys uniform delivered to your doorstep that morning and you were more than excited for the new year. You had gotten enormous support from the Weasleys and all of your friends, but it didn’t stop that small voice in the back of your head kept talking about how hard everything was going to be once you got into Hogwarts, the constant deadnaming until corrected. You didn’t look forward to that. You knew that it was normal, of course, people will question but it didn’t stop you from feeling bad about it. There was even a voice that said ”Why did you have to do this to everyone around you? You’re complicating everyone’s lives. Why can’t you just be normal?” That voice was mean and the loudest. 

”Y/n! Y/n come on we need to get moving?” Molly yelled, everyone had already entered the platform 9¾ and you had fallen behind, gotten lost in your thoughts. You quickly shook yourself awake and gathered the strength to push the big trolley through the brick wall. Molly followed suit. ”It’s going to be alright, you have Harry and Ron with you, Hermione will take it very well I’m sure,” Molly whispered to you as she patted your back as a sign of support. You nodded determinedly. You hadn’t told Hermione yet, hell, you hadn’t even seen her all summer. You knew she’d take the news well, it was Hermione after all. 

Your hand got grabbed by Harry, he was leading you towards the train, the platform was packed with people and it was hard to move in any direction. There was a lot of whistling, yelling and things falling over, you felt relieved when the door to your carriage was closed. Hermione was already there, she loved to be on time. ”Harry! Ron! -” she greeted excitedly, but didn’t say your name. She stared you up and down. ”I’m sorry I don’t recognise you,” she said, somewhat embarrassed. ”This is our new, old friend y/n,” Ron said as he threw his arm on your shoulders, although he struggled a bit due to the height difference. Hermione sat back down on the seat. ”Of course, I should’ve known it was y/n,” she said and smiled. ”Want to sit next to me?” She continued with a question, patting the seat next to her. ”I’d love to,” you said and sat down next to her, only now noticing the man on the side opposite of you, sleeping against the window. Harry and Ron only now seemed to notice the same strange man, too. The two boys sat down. ”That’s Professor Lupin, our new defence against the dark arts professor,” Hermione informed. You sighed as you leaned back on your seat. ”I’ve missed you knowing the answer to everything. These two boys, I swear to Merlin they and I included would be so lost without you,” you said as you pointed at Harry and Ron who were tying professor Lupin’s shoelaces together. Hermione giggled. 

The train let out a loud sound to signal the departure. You had now time to go through all of the latest happenings with your friends. You loved Hogwarts. It was your home, of course, the aspect of learning was sometimes hard and stress-inducing, but it was home, most of the professors were people you knew you could count on. The people there, although they could be annoying, they still were close to you and you liked almost everyone. Well, tolerated anyways. It was getting dark, you should be arriving any minute now. ”How’s your place?” Hermione asked, causing you to tense up. Harry and Ron glanced at Hermione. You didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say, the same old, yet so much more worse. ”Not good I take,” Hermione finally said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You sighed. It wasn’t great, it was a long way of the horrors Harry had to face, but it was still bad. ”They’re angry, so angry with me for trying to be me, on top of the usual disappointment. But that’s nothing new,” you said, offering Hermione a smile, even if it was far from genuine. 

You saw how the lights of your home, came closer into view, soon you’d be home, away from the craziness of ”reality”. Hagrid greeted you all welcome and gave you a thumbs up, you smiled. The night went by, as usual, the 1st years got sorted into their houses, professor Dumbledore kept his speech and introduced the adding in the faculty. Professor Remus Lupin, the new teacher of the defence against the dark arts. He seemed very kind and like a good teacher. It took a couple days for things to start rolling like usual in Hogwarts, Harry was away at Quidditch after school, Hermione in the library along with Ron. You weren’t on the team and didn’t want to be on it, you weren’t that confident with the broom and preferred both of your feet on the ground. ”Not one to trust a broom, are you?” The now-familiar voice of professor Lupin asked you, startling you. You had zoned out while watching the Quidditch practise from the comforts of a bench in the courtyard, not noticing how the professor crept up behind you. ”Professor Lupin, I didn’t hear you coming,” you said, trying to sound apologetic. Remus smiled, ”It’s alright. I’m quite the trickster when others aren’t looking.” You laughed a little, the laugh warmed up your chest. ”But to answer your question, I do prefer soil to air,” you said, now a little more serious. 

”I know I seem like a bad teacher but I have to ask, what was your name again?” Remus asked, quite embarrassed. ”I haven’t been around this many people in a while so catching up with the new names is quite difficult,” he went on to explain as he sat down next to you.

”Y/n,” you answered, a little thrilled to be able to introduce yourself with your name, but also a little anxious. ”That’s a fine name for a young gentleman like you,” he said, enthusiastic. You giggled, feeling happy due to the compliments and overall acceptance. ”What has it been like to come back to Hogwarts after so many years?” You asked, wanting to continue the conversation with Remus. He seemed to be extremely kind and accepting and you needed that in your life. ”It has been nice so far, it feels odd to be here without my friends though. But I’m adjusting just well. I love teaching the new students, fills me with excitement, you know.” he went on, almost rambling. ”Where are your friends?” You continued to ask, knowing that you were about to overstep a boundary. ”They’re kind of all over the place, some have gone on the other side,” he said, more quietly as if others weren’t allowed to hear him. You weren’t sure if ”going on the other side” meant joining the dark lord or dying, but you didn’t ask. 

The conversation slowly died down, leaving you both to just bask in the evening sun as it settled behind the mountains. 

The following weeks and months went by as normally as they possibly could. Some students still gave you snarky looks and shot mean words at you, but your friends were luckily there to stand up for you. When you walked into your defence against the dark arts lecture, you were surprised to find their places empty. Where had they gone? You looked around you, trying to not look as scared as you in reality were. You heard the familiar thudding of professor Lupin’s shoes hit the rock floor, it was best to sit down and just try to get through the lecture. As Lupin greeted the class, you heard snickering from behind you, Draco and his friends, they had moved to sit behind you. 

”Look the weirdo is all alone now. Her friends left her, couldn’t stand her freakiness,” Draco laughed to his friends, just quietly enough for you and his friends to hear. This was going to be one hell of an hour. Lupin went on to talk about some spell and you swore that you were trying to concentrate on the teaching, but Draco and his friends kept throwing paper balls at you. Distracting you very badly. You made the mistake of opening the first ball that hit you, it had landed on your table. The terrible slur was scribbled all over it. You assumed they all had the same word on it, one wasn’t nearly as crumpled up like the others, so you were able to read it without touching it ”poof”.

You were holding back tears, sweating, your breathing as irregular as they come. ”Draco Malfoy,” Professor Lupin said, tone slightly raised. You didn’t dare to look up, the tears would’ve fallen if you did that. ”What did I do professor?” Draco asked, clearly pleased with himself since he knew that the teachers never actually punished him, only gave a bad word. ”Detention, Hagrid will have some tasks for you for at least a week with the seasons changing and all,” the professor said, voice stern but calm. You heard Draco scoff. ”Do you not know who I am?” He asked, clearly in disbelief. ”Yes, I just said it. Were you not paying attention?” Lupin said, drawing out a laugh from the other pupils. The bell rang before Draco had the chance to shoot something back, not that he had anything to say, maybe just the usual ”wait until my father hears about this.”

”Y/n, stay after class would you?” Lupin requested as you began gathering your stuff, still not lifting your gaze. You plopped back on your seat as a sign of protest. You just wanted to run into a bathroom stall and cry. The two of you waited until the classroom had been drained of the noisy students. ”I saw what he was doing to you,” Lupin said as he pulled a chair to sit in front of you. You didn’t answer, you tried to distract yourself with your cuticles. ”It’s okay if you’re upset. You’re allowed to cry,” he said, and that was it. One tear after another ran down your cheeks, falling on your desk. Your body slightly shook as you cried there. Remus handed you a napkin after you began crying, he waited there as you cried, not once telling you to stop crying. Only once your cries died down did he speak. ”Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked.

”It usually doesn’t get to me. My friends are usually here, but they weren’t today and Draco just took an advantage of that. It just proves that I can’t stand up for myself. I shouldn’t have come to class today,” you stated, so so incredibly upset. Remus sighed, you saw how his hands moved to grab yours but they quickly retreated. ”You shouldn’t think that. You can stand for yourself, you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t able to stand up for yourself. No one carried you here, you walked here. You are such a strong young man and you shouldn’t let kids like Draco bring you down,” Remus said. You lifted your head to look at your Professor. He was encouragingly smiling at you, his legs crossed, hands rested on his lap.

”Kids like him have a silver spoon so far up their arse even the dentist can see it,” he added, whispering with a smile on his face. His speech left you without words, you knew he was right and you were heavily entertained by the silver spoon thing. 

"Believe it or not, I know what I'm talking about. I too was very different from others my age," Lupin added. You saw how his eyes changed as he said it, you knew he wasn't different in the same way as you, but you knew his struggle was just as real as yours. 

"How did you get past it?" you sniffled, voice still raw from the crying. He smiled at you, "there's no "moving past" a thing as big as yours or mine. You need to embrace it, accept that part more or less," he said, voice now melancholy. "It's good that you have Harry, Hermione and Ron as your friends, they're great friends. I too had a friend who helped me, rely on them and trust them. Be honest," Remus instructed. 

You smiled at his words, you knew that Remus Lupin was good.

[coindraws]

Bonjour

Been some time since I made a rambling post, so here we go because I like screaming into the void 🤙🏼

I've been staying in Germany with my family again since November because France has a harder lockdown than Germany does and the general circumstances here are just better for me. Kind of sucked because I was looking forward to living alone again but there's no sense right now in staying in a foreign country when my homecountry is doing better. A lot of the other students I got to know returned back to their countries as well and it's a big question mark when I'll go back again. Might be in January when my second semester starts and things have hopefully calmed down but I wouldn't be surprised if that didn't turn out to be the case. Still the only German as far as I know and there's a lot of new French students, so the misery of that continues.

Apart from that I kinda got used to the French uni system but I'm still having a somewhat hard time with it and my French is not really improving since I don't interact a lot with the other students and I only have one seminar where I maybe get to say something or discuss stuff lmao. My first semester is nearing its end and I'm very sure that I'll get my master's degree in Germany only, I had originally planned to get it in the same program as my bachelor but seeing how it's been very chaotic and how I won't be able to receive a scholarship from the EU again because of the way the schedule looks like, I don't think I want to do it. And I just like the German uni system a lot more, plus moving between countries all the time is super exhausting.

This is also really random but I also made a reddit account and I have no idea how that site works but I was so surprised to see so many people recognize my art from tumblr or other sites 😳 Not sure if this is a good or a bad thing but the sdv community is so nice and sweet compared to other fandoms I've been in/seen that I can't help myself but continue to draw for it. Haven't been drawing a lot as I just don't have a lot of time and am very stressed because of university and all the distance learning stuff but I'll get back to it when things get better or during my winter break. I'd really like to interact more with you guys because I need people whom I can talk to about my hyperfixation on Harvey but I'm awkward af 😂 If you aren't however, just shoot me a message or something, I like hearing about other people's lives.

Anyway, I hope you all are doing good as far as you can during these times. 2020 really drained everybody's energy and I can't wait for this year to be over but who knows if 2021 is going to be any better at this point. And here's one of my hamster babies.

[thesassenachswiftie]

Chapter 2: “You Need To Calm Down)

Read on AO3

Summary:

Chapter 2 is here! It's time for Claire and Jamie's first fight but that also it's time for their first make-up sex. This is my first time writing Smut but @statell assures me I did a good job. If that's really not your thing (I mean you are reading OL fanfic so it probably is), it's all the big paragraph near the end and the two dialogue paragraphs after you can easily skip to the last 3 dialogue paragraphs without losing the plot. Big thanks to everyone following along on this journey and all the kudos and comments on the last chapter.

This chapter is not only inspired by "You Need to Calm Down" but also by "The Reckoning" any quotes borrowed from either of these works belong to their respective author whom I am indebted to and admire greatly.

Notes:

First of all, I’m on Twitter now @sassenachswifty.

Second of all, There was a short lived comment on AO3 about Jo's pronouns on my last chapter. I genuinely think the commenter realized their mistake and deleted it before I had a chance to respond--which is fine and good, heaven knows I've made mistakes with pronouns and felt weird and caught of guard about them and all of that. Basically they were saying the they/them pronons were not grammatically correct and were distracting to the reader. I get that, I totally do, it feels uncomfortable because we were never taught about the singular they in school and it looks/sounds weird if you're not used to it. However, the sigular they has been recognized by APA, MLA and I believe Chicago style and is, therefore grammatically correct. It's something I'm getting used to as a writer and it's something we can try to get used to as readers as we move forward into a more progressive society. Our grandkids are going to make fun of us someday for struggling with pronouns. I just wanted to say it's ok to struggle, it's not ok to dismiss (which I genuinely believe the commenter was not doing). Jo came to me as a nonbinary character, and while it is a good exercise in pronoun usage for me as an author, that is not their primary function in the story, they are there to be Claire’s friend first and foremost. They/them are Jo's pronouns and I cannot and will not call them anything else because that would be disrespectful to them. My only other option would be to use "Jo" in every instance where he/she/her/him would come up which would be annoying, repetative and frankly, bad writing. Thank you for coming to my TED talk, now on with the show!

Chapter 2: “You Need To Calm Down”

Claire awoke in Jamie’s bed early on Saturday morning.  It was graduation day, but she was definitely not walking the stage.  Still laying on her side, she picked up her phone off the nightstand and began mindlessly scrolling Facebook, stopping at a collection of photos from an end of semester happy hour the night before.  Frank was there as well as several of their mutual friends.  Were they still friends? Probably not anymore, who knows if they ever were.  Claire tapped from the photos posted by Gillian to the tag that took her to Frank’s profile.  She scrolled down his feed to see if there were any new updates. Other than the pictures, it was the same barely cryptic statuses that were clearly throwing shade her way to anyone that knew.  In a tweet? That’s a cop-out. Taking shots at me like it's Patrón, she mused to herself, recalling the pictures from the night before. Claire began swiping through Frank’s photos going back further and further.  Her and Frank in front of the house with the “sold” sign in the yard.  A candid picture she took of Frank in a coffee shop one day.  Brilliant, smiling faces of them and their friends all dressed up at their New Year’s Eve party--many of the people pictured in the photos from last night. Frank proudly standing with his arm around her, Claire beaming and angling her hand just so a few days after they got engaged.  Claire was so engrossed in these images she didn’t realize Jamie had awoken behind her.  He leaned over to plant a kiss on that spot just behind her ear, pausing when he saw what she was looking at, “Damn Sassenach, it’s seven AM for Chrissakes” he hissed.

Claire’s face flushed immediately. She had been caught.  She didn’t even know why she was doing what she was doing, but she felt ashamed, defensive, embarrassed, and justified all at once.  She swiped out of her Facebook app instantly but it was too late.  He had seen and the damage had been done. She couldn’t speak, she didn’t have any good excuses, and she definitely couldn’t turn to look at Jamie. She set the phone back down on the nightstand and burrowed her curly head under the pillow trying to avoid his gaze.  She couldn’t see his face, but she knew Jamie was watching her intently waiting for an explanation.

“Hey, are you ok? I dinna mean to snap at ye Claire, It’s just early and I dinna expect to see ye looking at pictures of your ex after what I thought was such a satisfying night. Am I not good enough for ye Claire?”  His tone started gentle and caring, but his veins were pulsing with jealous rage and his voice got more angry and frantic as he continued.  “Look at me, Claire!”

Claire didn’t like being told what to do, especially not with the newfound feminist energy Jo had ignited in her.  She hoisted herself out from her cocoon, and sprang up to face him. “I don’t have to do what you tell me to. You need, to calm down, you’re being too loud!”

 He made a distinctly Scottish noise--“Hmpph. That’s not what ye said last night Sassenach” he growled.  He couldn’t help flirting with her even in his anger. She looked so bonny, bare-breasted with her curls splayed every which way, the fire of her anger alight in her whisky eyes--frightening and sexy at the same time.

Claire wasn’t amused by his quip, or by the tone of voice in which he said it, “you need to just stop, like can you just not? I don’t like it one bit!”

“Not what, Claire? Not want ye only for myself? Not feel jealous seeing pictures of that rat bastard with his smug grin and his arm around ye to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning? You do belong to me, whether ye like it or not. Why are you mad? I’m the only one allowed to be mad, Claire! Yer mine, damn ye Claire! Mine, and I wilna share ye, with a man or a memory or anything whatsoever”

Her glass face broke before his eyes as he raised his voice louder.  Her anger had turned to something fragile, something Jamie was afraid he would break.  Even still, she spoke softly, but confidently, “I don’t belong to you or anyone, I’m my own person. You need to just take several seats” She glanced away from him, trying to keep her composure.  

Controlling his urge to scream, he replied “I know that, that’s not what I meant.  I ain’t trying to mess with who you are or your self expression, I mean that I am yours just as much as you are mine”

Damn, he’s good, thought Claire as she met his gaze again.  His passion, even when directed towards anger, was still sexy.

“Claire, I see you over there on the internet all the time, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this is it?”

She nodded in agreement, embarrassed, but somehow she felt safe admitting it to Jamie.  She was beginning to realize just how much he truly cared about her.  As strange as it seemed, through this small fight, their relationship was moving from simply mutual, passionate attraction to something deeper.  It might have been there all along beyond the urges of the flesh, but she was just now truly seeing it.  It was exciting and terrifying all at the same time.

“Listen, I’ve learned a lesson that stressing and obsessing about somebody else is no fun.” Jamie disclosed, trying to restore the peace. “He’s not worth your time if he let a girl like you go on the drop of a hat like that.” This made Claire wince internally, hoping he didn’t see, there was more to it than that.  He didn’t seem to notice and continued, “What we have is like sunshine, but you act like you would rather be in the dark.”  He reached for her arm, caressing it gently.

“You’ve figured me out.  You’re right, I don’t know why I keep checking on him. I guess I’m hoping I’ll find out something horrible has happened to him; but I promise, only you have me.”

“I mean to have you Claire, I am your master and you are mine. It seems I cannot possess your soul without losing my own.”  Both of Jamie’s hands were on Claire’s arms now, gripping her more firmly now. They were drawing closer to each other, the passion of their anger still surging in their veins. “I want you Claire, I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?”

“Yes.”

Their lips met with a fervour unlike any they had experienced before, hands caressing everywhere. Claire moaned into Jamie’s mouth as his hand cupped her breast, stroking her nipple vigorously with his palm.  His lips moved to her neck, that spot behind her ear that made her giggle and squeak.  He was ravenous, consuming her flesh with his lips, making his way down to her other breast, sucking her nipple as he ran his tongue around it, willing all sorts of noises to emit from her mouth.  She was straddling him, grinding against him, feeling his wanting against her in just the right spot. She thrust her hands into his boxer briefs, tugging at his hips to bring them even closer.  He responded in kind, slipping his hands into the lace waistband her cotton panties and grabbing that arse he loved so much.  He moved one hand around to her front and started stroking her most sensitive area and slipped a finger inside her.  “Oh, Jamie” she moaned as she began to ease his waistband down.  She allowed herself to let him go for a moment, releasing him to remove his underwear, as she did the same.  As soon as they were fully exposed to one another, she was on top of him again.  She moved herself up and down his length, feeling him rub against her, igniting a euphoric sensation in her core. When neither of them could take it anymore he slipped inside her, and she took him in to the hilt, riding him almost violently.  All the anger and shame she had felt moments ago had transformed into a primal lust unleashed on him. He responded in kind, kissing her vigorously across breasts, neck and shoulders until she shoved him back on the bed to gain a better angle.  Pushing her hand to his chest for leverage, she rode him harder than she’d ever ridden anyone before--not even the vibrator she used to experiment with in college. She could see he was close, his face contorting as he resisted the urge to finish before her.

“Sassenach, you’ll be the death of me” he groaned.

“Just a little more, Jamie” she panted, just before crying out, “Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh”. Seeing her satisfied, he allowed himself to finish as well.  Claire gently detached from him and collapsed beside him, breathless, resting on his chest, hair sprawled across him.

“Oh Sassenach, ye keep that up and I’m liable to pick fights with you more often” he sighed.

“You better watch out before you start something you can’t finish” she quipped in response.  

Jamie simply made a Scottish noise in reply, staring at the ceiling stroking her hair, wondering if he had, in fact, done just that.

End Note:

I try to slip in as many lyrics from each song as possible and make it still "work", occasionally changing tenses or adding/subtracting words to make them work. Claire's orgasm moans are the "oh oh's" in the chorus of YNTCD and I'm simultaneously proud of myself and ashamed.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Skater Boy (Kirishima x Reader)

Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: College!AU; You’re going to get pizza and you run into a group of skaters from your university

Word count: 2,640

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n: I was talking to my cousin one day and the thought just suddenly hit me, What if the Bakusquad were skateboarders?  And so this idea was born!  Not the best but I think it’s cute, and he deserves fluff after I just wrote angst for him.

"I think I might actually fail that class," I deflate, hunched over.  "I study until I'm blue in the face and I still do bad on the exams.  And he doesn't even curve the grades!"

Tzuyu raises an eyebrow at me.  "(Y/n), you have a B in that class, why are you so worried?"

"Because I want an A!" I burst out as we walk up the parking lot of the pizza shop.  "It's still only the middle of the semester, I need a good enough cushion just in case I slip up on the last few exams.  I can't get another C!"

My dark haired friend grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eye.  "You're freaking out for nothing, just chill.  Do something fun for a change."

I sigh exasperatedly.  "I don't have time for fun.  I need enough time to study and do my homework, and I need time to procrastinate because of how stressed I am."  She doesn't understand since she's not a science major, she's a lucky Communications major.

She rolls her eyes.  "If you keep going like this, you'll start having premature grays hairs.  And you'll look older than you already do."

I shove her playfully.  "Are you saying I look older than my age?"

"Yup.  And it doesn't help that you have resting bitch face either."

I jump in front of her to jokingly insult her too.  "You're-"

"Incoming!"

Stepping backwards, the ground underneath my foot is slightly higher and shaky, making my leg jerk to the side instinctively and I land square on my ass, almost knocking into the shop's glass doors.  My head follows the sound of wheels rolling to see a skateboard gliding away from us.

"Hey, stupid."  A shadow casts over me and I meet the eyes of a pretty annoyed ash-blond boy, his hands in his forest green cargo pants pockets.  He looks down his nose at me with a grimace.  "That was my board you tripped on."

I blink, not knowing what he expects me to say.  "Um.  Sorry?"

Tzuyu helps me off the floor.  "Why would you let it roll away if you didn't want anyone touching it?"

He grabs it from the small distance it traveled, kicking the edge and gripping it by the metal between the wheels.  His board is almost all black with a giant white skull in the middle surrounded by orange and yellow flames.  "We warned you, not our fault you stepped on it like an amateur."

My gaze flicks briefly to the group of other people hanging around the side of the building before returning back to him.  "All you said was 'Incoming,' how were we supposed to know what to watch out for?"

The boy rolls his eyes and swaggers up to me.  Being almost an entire head taller, he slouches over me.  "You should've know to just freeze up," he growls.

The combination of his height towering over me and his murderous crimson eyes makes me gulp, but stand my ground.  I cross my arms over my chest.  "M-Maybe if you weren't so bad at skateboarding, you wouldn't have messed up for it to roll away from you."

The boy growls and bares his teeth at me.  "You wanna say that again?!"

"Okay, calm down, dude, it was just an accident."  A red-headed friend of the boy runs up and pushes him away when I flinch into Tzuyu's arms behind me.  "You don't have to pick a fight with everyone you meet, just chill."

The porcupine-haired boy grumbles under his breath and walks back to the rest of his group.

I turn to the saintly friend.  "Thank you-"

As soon as he turns around, the words get jumbled in my throat.  The front of his hair is so cutely tucked over his face under his black beanie.  His features give off a boyish charm with sharp features like his eyes and his jawline.  His beaming smile puts blindingly white sharp teeth on display as his eyes crinkle up.  "Sorry about him, he's a bit of a hothead."

"It's okay!" I say quickly, waving my hands in front of me and looking down.  My eyes meet with his board, the pattern a scarlet matching his hair color with black lettering outlining the initials RR.  "You have a pretty cool board.  Matches your hair."  It's a dumb compliment and I know it is, I'm just trying to make conversation.

He picks it up by the sides and admires it himself.  "You like it?  Painted it myself!  I bought the wheels, but I sprayed the trucks black because I thought it looked cooler."

"Seems like a personification of you."  You sound so lame and boring, why would you say that?

"It's new, I'm trying to get it scratched up and everything."  He holds it with one hand at his side and holds his hand out to me, flashing another brilliant smile.  "I'm Eijirou Kirishima by the way!"

Tzuyu and I introduce ourselves.  "Do you go to the university here?" my friend asks.

"Yeah, we all do," he motions to the rest of them.  "We just like to come out and chill every once in a while, usually we're at the park though."

I know which one he's talking about.  About a block away, opposite the direction of our university, is a skate park that I've seen whenever we pass by here to get food.

Tzuyu clears her throat and nudges me from behind and I shoot her a look to stop.

"Yo, Kiri!  We're goin' back to the park, you comin'?"  One of the boys with bright blond hair and a black hoodie calls out.

Kirishima's head flits back and forth between us and his friends.  "I'll meet up with you guys later!" he answers before turning his attention back to us.  "I can treat you guys to lunch since Bakugou was being an ass if you want?"

My eyes widen.  "You don't have-"

"Sure, why not?" Tzu talks over me and grabs my arm.  "Let's go grab a table!"

I will kill everything you love.

.

Tzuyu does most of the talking while I eat my pizza like a silent bunny.  We find out he's an Exercise Science major with an average GPA.  The most surprising thin is that his loudmouth friend who almost jumped us is a pretty bright student.

"You really can't tell, he's such a hothead," Tzu comments.

"Yeah, he's been trying to work on it," Kirishima laughs and rubs the back of his head.  "But he's a really smart guy, I usually ask him to explain stuff I don't understand."

I stare at the board he's laid down on the seat next to him.  We're spread out inside a semicircle booth near the window, so it's right next to me.  I stealthily reach out to spin one of the white and red wheels.  Some part of me feels like a child because I get easily amused by these things.

"You must really like my board."

My heart lurches when I realize I've been caught, my face turning red when I meet his beaming face.  "I'm sorry for touching it."  I scoot away from it a little bit.

"No need to apologize, I don't mind."  He pushes it towards me and leans his arms on the back of the cushioned seats.  "Do you skate?"

I fiddle with the wheels again.  "I have a board, actually, but I can't really skate."  It's at my house, under my bed where I can't see it.

"That's cool, do you have a picture?" his scarlet eyes light up in excitement."

"No, I don't."  I deleted it.  "I, uh, dated someone who bought it for me and was supposed to teach me how to skate."

"And you broke up?" Kirishima finishes, his expression neutralized to a blank slate.

Damnit, look what you did, you've made everyone uncomfortable now.  I take a last bite of my pizza, leaving the crust.  Usually Tzuyu eats it for me.

Kirishima eyes it and his face turns a bit red, darting away from me.  "Would it be weird to ask if I can eat your crust?"

I feel my own face get hot at his suggestion.  Tzuyu coughs to hide her giggle and nods slightly.  "Sure, go ahead," I manage to get out shakily.

He doesn't even hesitate to grab it once he has permission, happily chewing at it.  Tzuyu bites her lip to keep herself at my obviously red face.  Don't think about it, that's so childish, I chant to myself.

He licks his lips when he's finished.  "So, (Y/n), do you still wanna learn?"

My entire body erupts in a strange combination of warmth and cold.  I never really thought about skating after I broke up with the previous guy.  It's just been sitting under my bed because  I unconsciously can't bring myself to remind myself of anything about him.  It wouldn't be a bad idea, but I also don't really want to embarrass myself in front of another cute guy.

Noticing my hesitation, Kirishima offers a warm smile.  "You don't have to worry about falling in front of me!  I couldn't stay on the board at first either!"

I can't imagine it, but something about his affable, trusting demeanor draws me to him.  "I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Awesome!"  His entire face lights up and his eyes crinkle up again.

"You guys can go ahead, I'm going back to the dorms to study," Tzuyu gets up to throw her plate away.  When Kirishima isn't looking, she wiggles her eyebrows and mouths, "Have fun."

"That's too bad.  It was nice meeting you!"

I shake my head quickly at her, but she just sticks her tongue out at me and leaves.

The redhead grabs his board and stands up.  "Shall we?"

Lord, I'm gonna die today.

.

Kirishima had already got me to feel out my balance standing on the grass and was now planing on moving me to the concrete.  Cue all my fears of falling off and busting my head open.

"Do you know which stance you're more comfortable standing with?" he asks, placing the board in front of me near a pole in the parking lot.

"I think so?"  I'm not familiar with it, but I can switch it up later.

"Alright, hold onto the pole and step up.  I'll stand in front of you just in case you fall forward, just be careful falling backwards."  He's been extra patient with me this whole time, it's endearing.

"Can you clone yourself so you can be in both places?" I ask feebly, clasping my hands in front of me, staring at the little board.

He chuckles, "I wish I could.  You'll do fine, I'll try to catch you either way."

I take a breath, holding onto the pole and placing my foot on the board.  I don't want to look like a coward in front of Kirishima, so I grasp the metal tightly and plant my other foot, wobbling a little in place and whining.

"You're doing good!  Are you cool so far?"  He moves to stand on the side where my body faces forward.

"I think so?"  My blood pumps with adrenaline and all I want to do is leap off and go back to the dorms.  Damnit Tzu, why did you leave me here?

"Okay, whenever you're ready, just push off and roll!"

My front fist clenches in front of me, every instinct telling me not to let go of the pole.  "You'll catch me, right?" I confirm, my legs shaking in anticipation.

"Yup!"  He holds his hands out, palms up and ready.  "Ready when you are!"

Don't be a coward, just do it.  I push off weakly and start rolling only slightly faster than a snail's pace before I shake and spasm, putting a hand on Kirishima's arm instinctively.  "Shit, sorry-" I take my hand off only to windmill my arms and lean backward.

He grabs both of my hands.  "Lean on me, it's okay."

His warm smile and gentle voice makes me feel stupid for being an imbalanced fool.  "I'm sorry, I'm such a klutz, I'm really bad at this," I burst out quickly.

"You're fine, take your time."  The warmth from his hands flusters me even more and I want to let go, but if I do I'll fall over.  "Do you want me to push you so you can try again?  Is it okay?"  I nod, my body still shaking.  I shift to balance with one of his hands as he frees the other.  "I'm gonna let go after I push you, plant yourself."

He pushes at the small of my back gingerly, sending me rolling a little faster than before.  Despite being wobbly, somehow I manage to keep my balance for a few more seconds, the board wavering back and forth under my feet.

"You've got it, good job!" Kirishima praises, keeping a brisk walking pace to keep up.

The board slows to a crawl and I waver, stopping when I grab his arm again and letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.  "That's not too bad I guess," I exhale.

He chuckles.  "Do you wanna try riding towards me alone this time?"

Please no.  "Okay," I squeak out.

Kirishima stands a good 10 meters away from me.  Starting from the pole, I push off towards him and balance myself across.  When I approach him, he raises his hands up for me to hold onto and walks backwards to match my speed.  "Just step off now."

As soon as I take my back foot off, the front tips forward into the ground.  The mini sensation of falling makes me yelp and lean into him reflexively.

A snicker leaves his lips.  "Not really a successful stop, but at least you did it."

I look up, about to say something snarky, but I realize how close we are to each other.  His eyes bore into mine, and I notice he has a small vertical scar on his right eye.  I'm about to reel back for staring before he grips my hands tighter and brings them down to get closer.  My heart thumps in my ears, body still shaking with adrenaline.

"You know, it won't take just a single day to skate well, you need to practice at it."  His eyes relax into a half-lidded state, one side of his lips lazily turned up slightly.

"Yeah..." I want to curse myself for such a dumb response.  The smell of his wooded cologne wafts from his hoodie.

He bites his lip and glances down at mine briefly and his voice drops an octave.  "Would you like it if we kept this up?  Maybe tomorrow?"

Without thinking, I nod slowly.

"Maybe we can grab something to eat together?" he tips his head, "Like a...date?"

My face flushes.  Oh, this is happening.  I nod again, not trusting my voice to do anything but scream.

A low chuckle resounds from him throat and he quickly brushes a finger to my cheek.  "You're cute.  I'm glad you wanna see me again too."

My chest throbs at the compliment, eyes dropping to the ground.

Another melodious laugh and he lets go of me, grabbing his board that rolled a few feet away.  "Come on, I'll walk you back to your dorm."

I hang back, dazed after what just happened.  The adrenaline is slowly emptying out of my system and my heart is trying to normalize, but replaying how close we were a few moments ago kicks everything back into gear.

"You coming?" he calls from behind.  Seeing my disorientation, he smiles teasingly.  "Have you lost your balance to walk too?  Here," he clasps his free hand with mine gently, "I'll help you."

A new tremor of warmth flows through me.  Oh.

[cheswirls]

[ i rly wanted to write smth for them that was short n quick n then i thought ‘oh bt what abt this small supporting cast’ and then it grew a lil but its still a short oneshot tho longer than intended.. anyway, heres kurosemi. no knowledge of to aru is necessary for comprehension. ]

“this plant smells good.”

semi knows exactly what plant kuroo is referring to, because it’s the only semblance of one in the quad. “what? that plant is fake.”

“oh?” kuroo pauses, bending down to sniff again, semi doesn’t know. “did you spray it with something or . . ?”

he stops writing when his hand jerks, a stray line of red ink stretching two centimeters farther than it should. his head snaps up away from the offending mistake so he can direct his anger in a glare at his research par- affiliate. “stop joking around!”

kuroo’s expression properly adjusts. the slant on his eyebrows is heavy -they’ve become so straight it would be possible to balance small objects on them. semi’s not entirely sure where the analogy comes from, or why he thinks it’s appropriate to the situation, but he doesn’t bother to take it back, even if he’s the only one hearing it.

anyway. kuroo deadpans. complete with a deep frown. he reaches a hand up to pluck one of the daisy’s petals, and it comes off easy, much to semi’s utter shock. “this,” he says, with as little inflection as possible, “is not plastic.”

•

semi devolves into panic, but it’s the first time kuroo has seen the plant, so a bit of explanation is necessary to garner any sympathy. unable to concentrate on anything else, semi moves the thick notebook he’s been scribbling in for the better part of an hour until it falls on the floor, half-buries his face into his ink-stained hands, and starts rambling just loudly and just coherently enough for kuroo to understand.

semi is a workaholic. his one-track mind is on his research. he can’t take care of anything but himself, and barely manages that at times. he’d acquired the house plant as a gag gift, because he couldn’t kill something that was fake. and, true to form, he’d had the daisies for five months without lifting a finger to their care.

five months.

but they were alive.

they were alive in perfect condition.

understandably, after hearing all this, he garners kuroo’s sympathy.

kuroo panics.

•

kuroo tetsurou is born in tokyo. academy city piques his interest, but he can’t see himself being a test subject. he works hard at school, and works hard at university, and only then does he apply for a graduate school inside the walls. purely for research. he is in no way a subject, nor does he desire to be.

semi eita is born in the northern tohoku region. academy city was constructed in the capital of the country before he was born. his interest was fleeting, but a chance encounter his third semester in undergrad changes that. he applies for a research position inside the special ward and is granted the transfer his fifth semester of undergrad. he is not interested in subjecting himself to strange drugs or practices, or in trying to raise his level at all. he’s not an esper.

and yet, somehow, he’s kept a small houseplant alive for five months with absolutely no conscious care. he thought it was fake, for crying out loud. the thing was only good for looking at, and that was only on particularly bad days.

semi eita is stressed.

•

“of course they found out,” kuroo grumbles, looking up to cast daichi a particularly scathing gaze. he reaches across the counter to wrestle the espresso from daichi’s fingers and downs the shot in one go. (the wrestling is not necessary, nor is it true; daichi had been handing him the shot to begin with; he simply took it with a minimum amount of nervous fumbling.) “i haven’t seen him all week.”

daichi retrieves the shot glass and holds on to it, reluctant to refill it. again. “won’t that hold up your research?”

“it already is,” kuroo admits. “not like it matters; not like they care. semi’s an important specimen. they’ll do what they want.”

“and what he wants?”

kuroo casts him another dull look and makes grabby-hands at the shot glass daichi has regrettably refilled. again. he passes it off.

“doesn’t matter much anymore,” kuroo mutters, chucking his shot right after. the words aren’t necessary to say aloud, and yet he does anyway, so daichi figures he must feel a particular sort of way about the whole thing.

•

“i don’t think it’s that bad,” yachi tells him, a couple weeks later. “sure, it can be intense, but it’s a lot of fun, too!” she smiles, sunny, as if contrasting kuroo’s deep-seated scowl. 

but here was the thing about yachi hitoka. she had been here the longest out of any of kuroo’s friends. she went to middle school here. she was level two. her esper powers were, to an average person, out-of-this-world impressive.

here was the thing about yachi hitoka. she’d grown up here. she was a success. she wanted it.

(kuroo thinks about semi, coming home to kuroo’s place instead of his own, eyes rimmed with red and hands shaking and teeth chattering, unable to fathom being alone in the dark and alone in his own thoughts and alone with all the shadows that could morph around him and alone to dwell in the negative emotions and painful memories and dreaded terrors of what was next, next, next-

semi, alone with the daisies to watch him from the corner.)

semi had kept a plant he thought was not real from dying, somehow. being an esper was not a dream of his. developing esper powers was not a desire. subjecting himself to what the city deemed necessary was in no way part of his plan when he showed up several years prior.

yachi hitoka started the power development curriculum at eleven.

semi eita was forced into it at twenty-four.

semi had kept a plant alive; some nights kuroo wished he had never mentioned it.

•

nine knocks come at rapid succession on his front door. kuroo knows this, climbing the stairs to said door, because only one person knocked like that these days.

also, because he had stopped near the top step to watch semi do it, surprised to see him there before kuroo himself, surprised at a lot of things and not surprised at all, all at once

semi is barefoot. today, he’s not breathing in odd intervals. his natural hair is more pronounced at the roots than the last time kuroo had seen him. he appears to be clean-shaven, unlike the last time kuroo had seen him. his eyes are wild, when he finally catches sight of kuroo behind him; his eyes fade to calm, when he finally catches sight of kuroo behind him.

he steps forward, bare feet loud on the floor, and kuroo has him wrapped in a hug before he’s even made it the rest of the way up the stairs. 

(he marvels at how, for just a brief moment, they stand at equal height)

semi never wants to talk about it. kuroo isn’t a therapist, and on some level, doesn’t think he can handle it. doesn’t think he can withstand the boy he loves breaking apart in front of him.

but sometimes semi writes. just as a release for his thoughts. to keep from having them pent up. and it helps, he tells kuroo.

sometimes kuroo reads them. sometimes, even rarer, he’ll read them all the way through.

it’s more of the same, usually. needles and strange drugs and pain pain pain that they insist will fade. electrodes and wires and brain experiments and nerve tests and practical experiments and live tests and plants and small animals and human cells and

semi collapses into kuroo and cries pathetic tears for someone suffering so much. kuroo feels helpless. all he can do is pull the boy he’s in love with close and whisper in his ear things he thinks are comforting. all he can think is that he has to be brave, for them both.

there’s not a name or classification for eita’s esper power.

eita. kuroo pauses on that thought. ah, i see.

kuroo runs his callused fingers through eita’s two-toned, choppy hair. he skims over fresh raises in the skin, tries not to tread too close to skull anymore. eita stiffens but relaxes quicker, burying his face more firmly in kuroo’s chest.

kuroo gets brave, bending close.

“eita,” he whispers. “you’re safe here. no one is taking you from me. you don’t have to grip so tight.”

eita’s grip grows slack, then tightens over the course of kuroo’s words, then releases entirely. he lifts his head, eyes huge and wet and fixed on kuroo and kuroo alone.

“eita,” kuroo says again, raising a hand to cup his face, run a thumb under dried tear tracks. 

eita bends closer, sucks in a breath, releases it against kuroo’s lips.

kuroo acquiesces.

•

“this is a dream,” semi mutters, glancing up from the results again. across the way, kuroo lifts his face from the microscope.

“this is dull.”

semi scoffs. “i meant overall. being here. doing this.” with you, he doesn’t say. “being here,” he says again.

“you’re running out of words.”

“hey.”

kuroo looks up again. semi has that look. the one that makes kuroo want to draw him close, call him ei-

“come over tonight. you haven’t seen my new place yet.”

kuroo hums, pretending to think it over. “got anything exciting?”

“no.” semi snorts. “i’m here all the time. no use in exciting. you’ll be the best thing there.”

the turn of phrase does something to kuroo’s heart that has him agreeing.

• 

kuroo has never called eita eita. 

kuroo is an only child. the one other person he’s ever addressed by their first name is daichi. semi eita is semi eita. research partner. assistant. what have you.

but it brings eita comfort, in a world of suffering, to be called such.

so kuroo calls him eita, and some days he lies and says it will all go back to normal. some days he believes himself when he says everything will be okay.

the daisies sit, unblemished. fresh. alive and well.

eita festers in kuroo’s arms.

•

semi nudges him on the way there. “actually, i have a couple decorations. housewarming things. flowers.”

“oh! that does sound interesting.”

“don’t get your hopes up. it’s all plastic.”

•

one day, eita’s esper ability gets a name:

repair.

kuroo laughs. what irony.

eita laughs, and bends close to suggest a synonym.

kuroo near chokes when he says tetsurou so easily.

[theworldinclines]

Title: class 8 kid

Pairing: Pang/Wave

Ao3 link

     The gang’s third year at Ritdha was one of secrecy. Group messages that skated around words they couldn’t put in print, silly code-names both there and in person, and meet-ups that were limited to two or three members at a time to avoid suspicion. Their secret room stocked to the brim with carefully curated receipts for their side was to anyone else’s eyes nothing special, a storage area in the back of the school that even the cleaning crew doesn’t bother with anymore.

     But with Ohm’s ability, they acquired the keys and made the space their own, and when he arrives, all their work that’s so expertly made invisible appears again for them to pour over. It’s been months of biding their time and working in the shadows, while each former Gifted student advanced their Potential or helped the others to do so.

     It’s been months since Pang’s memories were stolen and returned, and since he realised that trying to fix systematic injustice can’t be done alone. He isn’t under any illusion that things have been perfect though.

     The disbanding of the Gifted Program means nothing when their knowledge spans outward from Ritdha and into the Director’s world, where they’re well aware that he’s never given up trying to get the Program back… which seems to have happened. They can’t quit until he does, so they haven’t. Under the radar means no group meetings, interaction in the hallway is restricted to cursory nods, at best, and to not appear protestant to the way things have been. In most ways, things have been calm. Until some riled-up newcomers thought it wise to boil trouble regarding the Gifted’s removal from the school.

     The others had asked Pang’s opinion and he’d replied that everything would be fine, no cause for concern to be seen. The administration would surely shut down these students’ demands; why wouldn’t they? Inside, however, he knew that nothing is that simple. This insurgency of protest from the first years is the chance Director Supot has been waiting for, even if he isn’t necessarily in charge anymore. Pang wouldn’t put anything past him, not again. He’s learned from the last time to never think himself in the lead; to get ahead, they have to assume they’re always two steps behind.

     But he didn’t tell any of this to his friends at first, because the last thing he wanted was to cause them alarm. They’ve worked diligently this past year and to dampen their high spirits would be horrible. He had Wave hack and bring down the Student.Move page under the guise of school administration in the hopes that that might be the end of it. He should have known better; after all, would that have stopped him? Not even slightly. As it would’ve done to him, it only encouraged them further. It was a bit of a backfire that prompted Pang to arrange a meeting of the Gifted for the first time in a year on that Friday.

     While everyone is surprised that he’d moved it up a week, there’s palpable excitement too. They’re walking in with the notion that Pang just wants to discuss their plan moving forward, the plan they’ve been putting together for what feels like ages that’s now been rearranged by recent events, but he also knows that he needs to acknowledge his worry over the new students’ rebellion. They’re less than a week into this semester and already the Gifted Program is one placement exam from being reinstated. They have to discuss what this means for their months-long work.

     Pang is flat on his bed, trying to gather himself. He’s thrilled to have the chance to see his friends all in the same room, but he’s sure that he’ll never get over the bout of nerves he gets whenever they meet to talk, whether it be one on one or even in messages. Sure, it’s been relatively quiet on the Director’s end, but it isn’t ridiculous to be worried that letting their guard down for even a second could mean being found out.

     In the back of his mind, it feels like Pang is always half-expecting the Director’s men to rush in out of nowhere to destroy what they’ve managed to put together over the year and this time, and wipe their memories for good. It’s a little bit of a spiral, he’ll admit that, but being cautious is good. It keeps him prepared, diligent, and when it comes to people as ruthless as Director Supot, it isn’t even enough to be those.

     One knock at the door and then Wave is walking right in like the room is his. It may as well be, by now. Pang had gotten a single for this semester, thankfully, one perk of being in the graduating class. If he’d had to deal with Nac or some roommate pushing in his business, he would’ve gone crazy. Having a room to himself was probably one of the top things he missed most last year when the Program had been shut down. (And being able to see his friends, obviously. But seriously, he likes his space.)

     “You ready?” Wave asks.

     “’Course.” Pang tosses his stress ball up into the air and Wave catches it in his hand with a little eye-roll.

     “Don’t lie,” he says. “The rest might buy it, but I won’t.” Pang shoots Wave a Look that’s probably weak as hell because it only succeeds in drawing a tiny smile from Wave. “I know you’re worried about the trouble the new kids are stirring up; you don’t have to act around me.”

     “I’m…” Pang begins, then decides to just be honest. “I’m planning to talk about it tonight. The more I think about it, the less sure I am it’s going to blow over, you know? I don’t want to underestimate them. Or the Director.” Pang scoots over on the top blanket in invitation, and Wave shrugs off his jacket so that he can lay down beside him.

     They stare up at the ceiling, and then Wave surmises, “You think that one kid’ll be you, two-point-oh?”

     “With the exact opposite complaints,” Pang says, making Wave laugh quietly. “There’s so much they don’t know, if they just…”

     “The group seems to be run by only a few students, likely that kid Time. If we can get a handle on him, explain that the Gifted isn’t what they believe it to be…” 

     “Yeah, right. Hey, guys, this dude can give you superpowers. Doesn’t that sound shitty?” Wave nudges his elbow into Pang’s side as they laugh. Pang huffs out a breath and flops onto his side to face Wave. “The ‘you’ of second-year would say I should just use my power to take away their free will,” he says, bottom lip pushed out dramatically.

     Wave snorts at Pang’s sarcasm. “Hey, just because I’m not the one suggesting it doesn’t mean you can’t. If that’s the way to solve this, quick and easy, I’m all for it.”

     Pang falls again onto his back. “I won’t do that,” he says, as anyone could’ve guessed. “I can’t.”

     “I know,” Wave answers calmly.

     Pang pulls Wave’s hand into his to rest them both on his stomach. A while ago, Wave would turn red and sputter, maybe even refuse to let Pang keep his hand, but not anymore. Not for a long time now. “All in the same room, after all this time,” Pang murmurs. “I can’t believe how long it’s been.”

     “The only difference is your hair is less horrible,” Wave says, and Pang immediately looks at him in offense.

     He lifts their joined hands, eyebrows raised sky-high, and demands, “That’s the only difference? My haircut?” He drops his grip on Wave, who’s trying not to laugh, and sits up on the bed to pull at the buttons on his school shirt.

     “What are you doing?”

     “You provoked me,” Pang says, already on the fourth button. “This is coming off. Better yet, the meeting’s cancelled. Punn and Claire would probably like some alone time too, now that I think about it.”

     “We’re going,” Wave says, laughing as he gets to his feet to fetch his jacket. “We’re unofficial co-leaders of the group; we can’t blow it off just for—”

     “Why?” Pang says, a whine in his words.

     Wave sighs and sits next to Pang. “I get you’re worried. But go there and show them that it’s under control, or that it will be, because the alternative is panic.” Pang nods, although he isn't’ happy about it, and Wave nods in return. “Okay.”

     They walk to the academic building that houses their meeting space and once they’re some distance from the door, Wave stops to turn to Pang.

     “I’ll go in first. You come in after.”

     “Why?” Pang asks, nose wrinkled.

     “It’s pretty conspicuous for both of us to arrive at the same time, don’t you think?”

     “Do you actually think anyone in there gives—”

     Wave gives Pang an all-too-brief kiss, just to shut him the hell up. It isn’t that Wave is necessarily against telling their friends about their relationship, it’s just that it had happened last year in the midst of the Gifted Program’s dismissal and not being able to really see one another, so telling them all felt sort of pointless. And now it’s been months and it feels more awkward than anything else, so he’d rather avoid the teasing he’s sure will come were they to find out.

     He goes to detach himself from Pang just as Pang’s arms wrap around to keep him close. He gives Wave a second kiss, this one to the side of his head. “Wave,” Pang says.

     “Pang,” Wave answers, half impatient and half completely enamoured. He allows Pang to take his jacket from his hands so that he can settle it snugly over Wave’s arms. He smooths his hands down over Wave’s shoulders and gives him a little smile. “See you in there.”

     Wave doesn’t have it in him to say anything rude, even as a quip, when Pang looks at him like that, so he just nods and turns on his heel to go. He waits outside the door for his perfect moment, then takes it. Hopefully his confidence will disguise the fact that all he can see in his mind is Pang and those undone buttons, damn him.

     “Yes,” Wave replies confidently to Mon’s question. “Now that the Placement Exam’s back on, we should stick to our original plan.”

     Mon looks around the space surrounding Wave like there’s something missing. “Isn’t the Class Eight Kid with you?” she asks him, and Wave’s stomach takes a dip.

     At their friends light laughter, not judgmental, he tries to calm his racing heart. If he and Pang get teased regardless, maybe telling them would be easier, actually. Jesus. At least then he could blame his consequential flustered actions (i.e. panicked ramblings of an exposed man, insertion of the wrong side of the cassette home to love songs) on the boy responsible. Or would that be even more embarrassing?

     This’ll be a great year.

[dawnsociety]

Starry eyes

Chapter 2

Hi everyone! I’m back with the second part of my Starry eyes fanfic. I originally meant it to be a drabble series but I get a little too carried away while I write lmao I hope you still enjoy it!

I apologize for the late upload but your girlie is a little busy! I’ll try to upload once a week at least, let’s see if I can make it. Once again, I hope you’ll like it and please keep in mind that English is not my native language. I apologize in advance for any typing/grammar mistake, and if you want to send me you feedback it’ll be highly appreciated (just don’t be rude!). Enjoy   ♡

#2 - 1:14 pm

You were absolutely starving. Classes had ended a little too late, more than usual, but now you were finally able to go get some food. Just an hour ago, you were a bundle of nerves, trying to calm yourself while gulping down a whole bottle (if not two) of water so you could look like a functioning human being right in time for your presentation.

To make things fair, your professor had decided to draw a random letter to decide in which order each student would make their presentation. Of course, with luck being on your side, you turned out to be one of the last people to make your presentation. Even though there weren’t many people in your class, you had to wait for a while before showing your work to the entire class, which only made your anxiety skyrocket.

You weren’t really the extrovert, outgoing type, so talking about yourself and your work in front of a bunch of strangers freaked you out. Even though the semester had started around a month ago, you weren’t really close to anyone. You blamed it on your shy, introverted personality, and lost hope to make any new friends in your class. 

An hour later, you were finally free - with no more classes to attend, no more anxiety to make you sweat like you were in a sauna and most of all, with no energy left. You rushed to the cafeteria, hoping to find a free spot where you could eat your lunch. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too crowded so you managed to find one quickly.

You had finally sat down, ready to indulge in your food while scrolling through your Instagram feed. You were looking absentmindedly at your phone, when suddenly you hear a voice: “Hi, is this seat taken?”

You looked up, having no idea who that could be. Only when your eyes met his, you realized who it was.

It was Yunho.

The same Yunho who you had seen walking down the college halls a few days before, with beautiful lips and dainty pinkish hair. To be honest, after that day you had thought of him often. His elegant aura allured you in like a child with cotton candy. You had no idea who he was, but you were enchanted by him.

“I… I, uhm… I mean, no no, it’s free.”

“Great! May I sit here? It’s just the perfect spot and I’m really craving this sandwich, today has been crazy.”

You nodded shyly, a little confused about what was going on. While he was getting comfortable, you looked around and quickly noticed how the place wasn’t too crowded. Yes, more people had come to the cafeteria after you did, but it wasn’t full of hungry students like usual. You were sure you had seen a couple ones totally free on the opposite side of the room. So why did he choose to sit next to you?

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Are you waiting for someone? If so, I can move to another tabl-”, he said, almost cautiously.

“No no, it’s fine!! It’s just me and myself, don’t worry”, you replied in a too enthusiastic tone, almost yelling. You didn’t even notice at first, but later slapped yourself mentally. You didn’t mean to scare him.

He didn’t look scared at all, and actually laughed a little. You had no idea how to talk to him, or even start a conversation. You were internally panicking, but Yunho seemed to be the complete opposite.

“I can finally eat now, lunch time never seemed so come while being in class! Is it just me or are Tuesdays actually even worse than Mondays?”, he wondered. His genuine tone made you realize he was actually curious to know your opinion - something you weren’t really used to. A stranger trying to start a conversation with you? Without any apparent agenda? That sounded crazy.

“Ye-yeah, I guess… I mean, I’m stressed 24/7 so I don’t really care about what day of the week it is”, you replied sassily.

He laughed again, this time much louder. You noticed how his laugh made his eyes disappear into little crescent moons, making his cheeks become even softer. You were looking in awe, as if you had never seen something more gorgeous.

You two talked a little, mostly thanks to Yunho’s constant picking up the conversation. Usually, doing small talk with a stranger would drain your energy soon and make you want to run to a mountain and spend three weeks alone, with no other human being in sight. This time, though, you couldn’t stop yourself from talking. Your hunger just seemed to vanish, as all you wished now was to talk more, to know more, of the gorgeous guy sitting next to you.

Your conversation was soon interrupted by a male voice. “Yunho!!”, he screamed. “Dude, it’s late! We have to practice for next week’s game”, the stranger said while approaching you.

Yunho took another bite to his sandwich before excusing himself and joining his friend. Dumbfounded, you replied “bye” quietly, laying your eyes on your lunch buddy who was rushing through the cafeteria door with his friend. Trying to figure out what had just happened, you were being left with your now cold lunch, confused but also a little upset.

You had always surrounded yourself with art, yet you had just found the most beautiful piece.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hey, darling🥰❤ I'm so so sorry to hear that your mum makes you feel bad about yourself😔 You don't deserve this at all... I just want you to remember what an amazing, loving, helpful and incredibly smart person you are🌺💖 And please don't let anybody tell you otherwise!! All of your F/Os and I love you so so much and I am immensly proud of everything you do for your studies but also your blog🧡💛 If you ever want to talk or vent about anything, I'm here for you, sweetheart🥺❤

No one said anything bad to or about me, but... Gosh, I hope I'm not bothering you with my personal stuff... Today the new semester started for me and I'm really panicking. During the night I woke up every hour because I'm so worried about everything. There's this one lecture I'm immensly scared of because of my terrible programming skills. To be honest, I've skipped the lecture before because of that, but now I really need to do it. And I'm already feeling incredibly overwhelmed and dumb right now... *sigh* I wanted to watch TDK yesterday to try and calm myself down. But after the first few minutes I couldn't concentrate anymore and started crying. I'm craving for J, but I think I would only annoy the hell out of him by being so clingy and anxious...

Hi, honey!💗🥰

Oh, thank you, angel! 🥺 My mum just doesn’t think before she speaks, which isn’t great, and a lot of the time she’ll make a throwaway comment which touches one of my many nerves lmao I’m quite sensitive, I suppose. I never tell her when she makes me feel bad because doing so never changed anything in the past, so it won’t do any good to me now. There’s a reason I’ve had F/O parents since I was sixteen.🙃 

But anyway.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for such kind and loving words, darling. You always put such joy and warmth into my inbox and I can’t thank you enough for doing so!💗 You really are so kind, not just to me but to everyone you interact with and I hope that you’re receiving even some of that in kind! Thank you, angel, thank you so so much asdfghjk 🥺 J loves you so much and so do I and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!💜 Thank you for being proud of me, that means the world to me! You’re working super hard too and I’m so, so proud of you, and I know that J is too.💙Thank you, angel, and if you ever want to vent or talk or anything, I’m here for you!!!!🌸❤

Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.😔

You are never a bother. Not ever. I am so proud of you for sending this in to me and for venting and reaching out. I am always here for you, angel, always. I’m so sorry that you’re panicking about the new semester starting, my love. It really is incredibly daunting to start a new term and I’m so sorry that your worry has been waking you up so frequently in the night.😔 I can really empathise, my love, because I have a really bad sleeping “schedule” and I keep waking up, too, or having nightmares which leave me not wanting to sleep. So I understand, darling, and I hope that as the days continue and you settle into the new semester, that things get easier for you. Take it all a day, even an hour at a time, and please take breaks, stay hydrated and eat regularly!💖

I’m so sorry that you’re skipped this one lecture because it scares you, honey. I’ve done the same in the past and I want to say that the longer you leave it, the worse it’ll be for you. What I mean when I say this is that the longer you leave this lecture, the harder it’s going to be to even think about it. Might I suggest that you get yourself a special treat, something you really want, as a reward for attending the lecture? It will act as an incentive and it’ll give you something to look forward to, as well. This reward can be a chocolate bar (though using food as a reward system is quite a slippery slope, so I wouldn’t recommend making it a regular thing), or a new notebook, a drawing, anything. You can do this, darling, and J and I are so proud of you!!!⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Have some stars, my love, you deserve them!)

I’m so sorry to hear that you’re feeling so overwhelmed and stressed, darling. I can really empathise because I’m currently feeling the same way (I’m calming myself down by answering advice asks like this one ksksksk helping others is such a comforting thing to do and I enjoy it). Take it all a day at a time, honey, and know that you’re already doing amazingly. You are not dumb - don’t you dare talk to yourself like that, okay? You are very intelligent, not just academically but also emotionally, and you will get through this. It is scary at first, but take it slowly and don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it, darling. Take care of you, darling, and know that I and others are here for you, and so is J!💗🥺

I’m so sorry that you started crying after you started to watch TDK, angel.😔That tells me just how emotional J is for you, but also how highly-strung you are and I’m so sorry that you’re so stressed, honey. It sounds like you really need J right now, and the last thing he would want is for you to push him away at a time when you most need him. No matter the F/O, they love you. I actually feel like J would be more annoyed if you didn’t cling to him, you know? He loves you, darling, and he’s there for you if you want him to be. Life’s hard enough as it is, and anything you can do to ease your own way is well worth doing. So cuddle into J - let him love you and help you. You deserve it and you’re worth it. 

I love you so so much, angel, and I’m so proud of you and I know that J is too.

Picture this, if you will:

J comes home and you immediately tear up as he comes into the room. He sighs to see you like this, his suspicions confirmed (so intuitive is he), and he approaches you with slow, measured footsteps.

“Awwh,” he coos mockingly, “What’s, ah - what’s bitin’ at’cha, doll? Hm?” He flops down beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his body. You squirm and try to get away, but J only holds you tighter. “A-ta-ta, no.” J doesn’t like it when you won’t let him hold you. He doesn’t like it one bit. “C’mon, talk to me. I got’cha.” J pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your temple, as if he wishes to soothe your raging mind from the outside, and you find yourself telling him everything.

J listens in absolute silence, making encouraging noises every time you seem like you’re going to cut yourself off, and when you’re done, J says, “I’m proud o’ya, you know that? This ain’t easy but ain’t that the fun of it, hm? Don’t let it get to ya’, doll. There’s real fight in you - so use it, hm? Ya’ got me. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And, really... that’s the most romantic thing J could have said.

[wordsandshawn]

“i don’t know what i want in life anymore but the one thing i’m sure about is that i want to be with you”

Things have felt different between you and Shawn lately. It feels like theres more of a distance between you two than normal. Even though you know there’s a reason and you shouldn’t worry, it’s been bothering you for the past two weeks. You haven’t seen Shawn at all for the past week. He’s been busy in the studio, and you’ve been busy with finals.

In the past, even when you and Shawn are busy or have a lot going on, you’re always texting back and forth throughout the day, even if it is only you sending him memes that made you laugh or him sending you lines of songs they’re working on that he thinks you’ll like. There is always that stream of conversation going back and forth letting you know he’s thinking of you and you’re thinking of him.

Lately, these texts that you’re so used to have become much less frequent. A part of you thinks you’re both just busy and that the lack of texts doesn’t mean anything, but another part of you can’t help but overthink the change.

It could be due to lack of sleep lately or even just stress, but it’s all starting to feel like a bigger deal than it should be, and a part of you is afraid to talk about it out loud because then it might be real.

You’re sitting at your kitchen table trying to write a final paper, a final paper that you’ve been working on for so long that you’re not even sure what half of it says anymore. You feel like if you stare at the word document any longer you’ll pound your head against the screen.

Standing up, you pour yourself a glass of water, needing a break from the work. Leaning against the counter, you take a sip and try to calm yourself. Despite all the concepts and words in your head, your mind drifts back to Shawn. Your mind is constantly drifting back to Shawn and distracting you from working lately. He hasn’t texted you barely at all today, and you’re wondering if he’s having second thoughts about you. You’ve been together for nearly a year, but the truth is your lives are so different, and maybe Shawn’s finally realizing that. An insecure part of you can’t help but worry that Shawn realized he doesn’t want to be with you anymore. Or maybe he’s realizing that you’re not good enough for him, that you cant keep up with his lifestyle. There could be a million different reasons behind the change, but you don’t want to go down the path of thinking of them all. 

Walking back over to the table, you check your phone, but there are no new missed calls or text messages. You try to convince yourself you’re not disappointed, but you are. You tap on your messages and pull up Shawn’s conversation. All your insecurities bubble to the surface, and you type out a text. Are we okay? Your finger hovers over the little send arrow, and finally, you think fuck it, and send the message.

When Shawn doesn’t respond right away, your heart sinks even further, and despite sitting back down at the table and staring at your laptop screen with your final paper on it, you can’t think of anything except Shawn.

It’s almost eleven pm when Shawn finally responds. Of course we are. Is something wrong?

No, I don’t know. Just checking. You respond, your mind still not clear. His taking two hours to respond certainly did not help your worries.

Your phone starts ringing, his face on the screen signaling he’s probably read your text and is calling to talk about it. Despite you waiting to hear back from him for two hours, you suddenly don’t want to talk to him. You don’t want to hear him say that he’s been feeling the distance too and he’s been creating it on purpose because he’s not sure about you anymore. You don’t want him to confirm your worries because that’s your greatest fear. Even though you have your own doubts, you don’t want Shawn to walk away. You’re not sure you could take it if he did.

So you don’t answer. You throw yourself into your work, focusing harder than you have all night. You go to bed after one in the morning without returning Shawn’s phone call despite the text he followed up with asking you to call, and the text he followed that one up with asking if you were okay.

When you wake up in the morning, you feel just as stressed and exhausted as the night before. Shawn has sent you a good morning text, so you reply with your own. You weren’t trying to ignore his text the night before, you just weren’t in the mood to talk.

It’s a Friday morning, the last day of classes for the semester, and you only have one class to attend. Dragging yourself out of bed, you quickly get ready and rush out the door with just enough time to get to class on time. After class, you grab lunch with a few friends to celebrate the end of the semester before walking back to your apartment, everything you still have to do is swimming around in your mind.

When you unlock your door and walk inside, you see a familiar head of brown hair before Shawn turns and you meet his eyes. A part of you is flooded with relief to see him. You two hadn’t made plans for the weekend. You knew that Shawn was planning to be in the studio for most of the weekend and you had to study for finals the next week, so it made sense not to hang out. Because of that, you were not expecting Shawn to show up, especially because his studio was over two hours away from your school.

“What are you doing here?” You question, but even as the words leave your mouth, it’s almost like a magnet draws you straight to him. He stands and wraps you in his arms before responding.

“I just came to check on you. Jamie let me in, I hope that’s okay.” He responds. “Your text last night...” He trails off, not finishing his sentence or thought. 

“I’m sorry. I was just overthinking.” You respond. He’s here standing in front of you. He didn’t know what was wrong because you didn’t know how to tell him all the things you were feeling, but he got in his car and drove over two hours to see you. That has to mean something. 

Shawn takes a seat on the couch, gently pulling you down next to him.

“Overthinking about what?” He questions.

“I don’t know,” You shrug, thinking he might let it go, but he persists.

He doesn’t say anything right away, letting the silence settle between the two of you. After a few seconds, he brushes some stray hair from your face, quietly asking again, “What’s on your mind?”

“I think I’ve just been busy and stressed lately, that’s all.” You try brushing off his concern a second time.

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to himself, nuzzling into your shoulder a bit. “Yeah?” He questions, just one word to prompt you to continue.

“I guess I’ve just been feeling distant from you,” You finally admit the truth. Shawn got it out of you. Of course he did. 

“That’s what the text last night was about.” He says, probably more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, I guess I just feel like we haven’t been talking as much lately. I’m not trying to be clingy, I’m sorry.” You apologize when you realize what it sounds like. When you say it out loud, you feel like you’re really blowing everything out of proportion because the truth is you’re both busy, and you shouldn’t be feeling so insecure. Even though you know you shouldn’t feel this way, you can’t help the way you feel.

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for feeling like that.” He immediately reassures you, even as your thoughts start running wild, he kind of just draws you back in.

“I’m sorry, I just feel like you have a lot going on with your career right now, and sometimes I just worry that maybe you’re too busy or that I’m bothering you when I text you.”

He sighs, and you’re worried he’s going to say you’re right. He is too busy for you, but what he says surprised you in a good way, “Y/n, that’s not true. You’re never bothering me, and I don’t think you’re clingy. I know things have been crazy and busy lately. And sometimes, I don’t know what I want in life anymore but the one thing I’m sure about is that I want to be with you.”

When you don’t respond right away, just soaking in his words, he continues, “Y/n, I love you, okay? It doesn’t matter what happens with my career, that’s not going to change.”

“I love you too,” You respond, feeling some of your insecurity melt away.

“Good.” He says with a smile. “So can we cuddle while you do your work?”

“You’re staying?” You question, eyes lighting up with the thought of spending an unexpected evening with Shawn. 

“If you don’t mind the distraction.” He responds with a smile. 

“Of course not.” You can’t help but smile. He knows you have a lot of work to do, probably because you’ve been stressing about it all so much, but he still took the time to come over here just to talk to you and spend time with you even if you would be busy. 

You stand up, but Shawn wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back down on top of him. Giggling, you push off of him, saying, “I have to get my laptop.” 

He reluctantly lets you go. “Be quick then!” You can’t help but laugh at his antics, feeling so much better just having him here. You quickly retrieve your laptop before sitting down next to Shawn on the couch. 

[sluttyten]

mark w 27/49 & 1 please

“Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?” + “Where have you been all my life?” + “You know we’re meant to be?” + mark

You’d spent all your life waiting for the time to finally meet your soulmate. You’d known people who met their soulmate when they were just kids, some who didn’t meet their soulmate until they were quite old. Some people never met their soulmate, and others gave up on the search and settled only to later find their soulmate.

You refused to give up hope. You vowed that you would search the world over for your soulmate not because you believed in all that romanticism of it or whatever, but because the idea of having someone so perfectly bonded to your soul was the greatest concept you could imagine. All you needed to do was find them. People always said that when you met them that you would know. 

“The world changes for you when you meet them. Everything looks different and tastes and smells better than before.” A friend had once told you. But she was dramatic, and you and Mark had just turned to each other and laughed because how could the world look different, smell and taste different and better after meeting just one person? It had always looked just fine to you.

Mark was your best friend and he always had been. You couldn’t remember a time in the world when Mark wasn’t in your life. Your first memories involved him, the both of you were young kids when your parents met and became friends, living just a few houses from each other, and they’d decided to make the two of you the best of friends. It worked out, and since that day there had hardly been a day that you’d gone without seeing Mark or at least talking to him over the phone.

He hadn’t met his soulmate either, but he didn’t seem to keen on talking about soulmates or listening to you contemplate what your soulmate would be like. Even now, when you were both in university, surrounded by people discovering their soulmates in classes or in passing on the quad or something like that, Mark showed no longing to know. Anytime he was with you when you saw soulmates strolling past hand-in-hand, he would ask you if you wanted to go to the library to study, or come hang out in his room later, changing the subject to distract you or hoping to avoid you starting up the conversation again.

But today you think it’s Mark that needs the distraction. He’s barely slept the past few days, working himself to the bone over final projects and studying for exams. You’re pretty sure that he’s just surviving off of coffee at this point, and he’s so tense and buzzing off the caffeine high that you can almost feel it in your bones too.

“One more double shot of espresso for the addict,” You say as you arrive at his table in the library, sitting the Iced Americano down in front of him. 

“Oh, thank god!” He groans in relief, cradling the drink in his hands as he dramatically says to you, “Where have you been all my life?”

“Right here. The voice of reason in the back of your head.” You watch him suck down half the drink with surprising speed. His hands look a bit shaky as he sits the drink back down on the table. “Mark, are you sure you don’t want to take a break? Go back to your room and just take a nap?”

“I’m fine. Honestly. I’m almost done with this project, then I need to finish making the study cards for Bio. Then I’ll be done until tomorrow after the exam.” His words start to run together, his energy so palpable you feel like your fingernails are itching.

You lay a hand over his arm, and Mark suddenly goes so still, looking first at your hand and then back up at you. His eyes are wide behind the wide circular lenses of his glasses. His jaw has a shadow of stubble. “Mark, just take a little break. Put the books down. Just talk with me or something. Take a nap right here at the table, and I’ll wake you up in half an hour.”

“I don’t need a nap. And I’m not sure I could even take one. My body is made of more caffeine than anything else right now.” He says. But he does push away his textbook, and lean back in his seat. He still has a pen in his hand and he taps it rhythmically against the table. 

A couple giggles somewhere nearby behind the bookshelves, and you look in that direction, ready to tell off a pair of soulmates to go get a room. Mark takes your hand, and before you can even look around, you feel the nub of the pen tracing over your skin. You look down, see his face turned in focus, the tip of the pen drawing lines between the small freckles on your skin.

You let him because for the first time in days, he seems relaxed, calm and focused on something other than these last stressful couple of weeks of the semester. Mark draws lines between your freckles over your hand and wrist, and then starts moving up your arm. 

“Mark, can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?” You ask him quietly. “I can tell you’re tired, like the bone-deep tired. I can feel it as much as if you’re exhaustion were my own. Please, we’ll go back to your room, we can watch a movie and I’ll make popcorn. Anything other than sitting here in the library. Have you even moved from this chair since this morning?”

He looks up from your skin slowly, his eyes connecting the rest of the dots on the way up to your eyes. 

“You know we’re meant to be,” He says. “Right?”

“What are you talking about?” But your voice catches in your throat.

Mark slips his pen into his textbook, closes it and shoves it into his bag. “We’re meant to be. You feel all this stuff, know all this stuff about me, because we’re meant to be. Our whole lives we’ve been together, and I’ve always known, I’ve always felt it, and I realized what it meant when we were like fifteen. I kinda thought that maybe there was something wrong though, that maybe there’s a glitch of some kind in this whole soulmate thing, because I’ve always known that you were my soulmate, but you always go on and on about not being able to wait to find your soulmate. So I thought, maybe you’re my soulmate, but I’m not yours. 

“But now.” Mark sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair, making it into a mess. “Now, you just said that stuff. You can feel how I feel? You always know what I need or when I need you. I can’t deny it that you’re my soulmate and I’m yours, but you’re still sitting here across from in total obliviousness, aren’t you?”

You hear the words he’s saying, and on some level you understand them. But you also have no idea what he’s saying. Mark thinks you’re each other’s soulmate? How? 

“I know, you’re confused, right?” Mark asks. He leans forward again, takes your hand again, and you ignore the familiar zing that zips from your fingertips to your heart. You got used to that feeling a long time ago, so used to it that it really barely registers anymore. “But I’ve been doing some research on soulmates. I wanted to know more. I searched online, I interviewed couples. All of them said the same thing. When they met their soulmate, the world changed, everything grew brighter and more intense.”

“And?” You hear yourself asking. “How can we be soulmates, Mark? The world has always looked exactly the same to me.”

Mark nods, looking at you for a moment until he sees that you still don’t get it. “Of course, the world has always looked the same to you. We’ve known each other nearly our whole lives. My first memories are of you, and I’m betting your earliest memories have me in them, right? Everyone I asked said that before they met their soulmate, the world was virtually colorless or at least muted, foods tasted bland, the air smelled neutral. But, think, you’ve always seen everything in full color, right? Tasted sweet and sour, burnt and spicy. You’ve smelled blooming flowers and sea salt and fresh-cut grass.

“We’re meant to be. The world changed when we met each other, but we were so young that we don’t remember how the world was before then.” Mark strokes his fingers over the back of your hand and your skin tingles, your heart pounds. He’s right. You know he is. You don’t know how you never figured it out, that this bond you’ve always had with Mark could be the bond of soulmates. 

You lean forward, put your hand to Mark’s cheek, feel his stubble on your fingers and his breath warm on your palm. And with a bright smile that feels as if it could split you open to reveal a whole new world, you say for the first time, “You’re my soulmate.”