#just some random thoughts that turned into an essay

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

I cannot get over how much this one scene informs us of Tech's priorities, personality, and how much he cares about his squad.

THE SCENE: "Replacements," season 1 episode 3; the Marauder is in dire need of repairs

This scene is often played for laughs (and let's be real, it IS hilarious). There's Tech, completely ignoring Echo's not-so-subtle hints to help fix the ship, instead prioritizing tinkering with his gadgets because his definition of "critical systems" is apparently vastly different than others'. Result? The ship crashes.

But... Tech is RIGHT to be concerned about the chips.

He has been warning his brothers about the chips since Order 66, multiple times throughout "Aftermath" and "Cut and Run."

2. He suspected Crosshair was susceptible to the effects of the chip early on.

3. He saw firsthand the friction caused between Crosshair and the rest of the squad due to the chip, with the ultimate result that Crosshair attacked the squad and shot Wrecker.

OF COURSE he is going to prioritize creating a device that will test the functionality of their own chips - and I think he has two reasons for this.

First: Prevent further catastrophe by making sure no one else on the squad is at imminent risk of acting out like Crosshair did.

Can you imagine what could happen if anyone else became susceptible to the chip's effects? (Oh yeah, we can: we see exactly what happens with Wrecker on Bracca.) Tech's not losing another family member the way he just lost Crosshair.

Second: Support his theory that Crosshair's actions ARE a result of the chip. (Omega talked to Crosshair about this (in a roundabout way) in the brig, but it's Tech who mentions this possibility to the squad.)

And if they can find a reason, a solid explanation, for why Crosshair has turned on them, maybe they can find a way to help him.

Tech is logical and rational. He understands people by analyzing them, finding reasons to explain their motives and actions; and by understanding them, he can come up with a plan to fix the situation. And that's exactly what he's doing here: by proving his theories about the inhibitor chips, he can better help his family.

So, as much as I still laugh over Tech's nonchalant "We're fine" as they're LITERALLY CRASHING, I also find it so dang heartwarming and sweet that Tech was SO focused on saving his team in other, equally crucial ways ❤️

[godsfavoritescientist]

*collapses on the floor and starts having visions (new fic ideas)*

[wordsarelife]

—august

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo chose you and still you wonder why he even broke up with his ex in the first place

warnings: feeling like the wrong choice, insecure reader, angst but fluff ending

notes: i just wrote a little drabble since i already had a planned fic ready for lacy, i hope you still like it!

her hair was flowing effortlessly over her shoulders, caressing her back like it was some sort of clothing. she looked effortlessly pretty in general, soft pink lips and warm brown eyes reflecting the light of the sun when she would walk through the courtyard.

and the worst thing about her? she was nice. simply put. you couldn’t even manage to hate her, because next to being beautiful, she had a charming personality, a great sense of humor and friends everywhere she went.

you had understood if she had hated you. you, the new girlfriend of her first great love. but she didn’t and that made it impossibly worse.

“hey, y/n” she had greeted one morning, a smile plastered on her face and happiness reflecting in her eyes. “theo mentioned that you had some problems regarding the divination essay” she said and added, before you were able to retort something: “i finished mine a few days ago and thought it might help you to read over it. it was indeed a very hard task, i struggled too”

“oh” you had said, dumbfounded, and stared at the pieces of parchment she was holding in your direction. “thank you, aurora”

“no problem” she grinned. “and rory is fine, all my friends call me that”

she had left in a hurry, having to return books to the library, and you spent your time looking after her in awe, surprise and insecurity flooding your features.

it was beyond you why mattheo had decided to break up with her. aurora turner was simply perfect and you certainly weren’t.

"what's going on in there, huh?" mattheo slipped into the space beside you, touching your head with one of his fingers softly.

"oh, nothing" you quickly excused, taking your eyes off of aurora and looking to the book in front of you. "this reading for muggle studies is just taking up my brain"

"romeo and juliet?" mattheo questioned, studying the leatherbound book.

"yeah" you sighed. "the english is kinda off"

"i know" he shrugged, turning the book around in his hands and opening it to a random page.

"you know?" you repeated, trying not to laugh. "i never as much saw you look at a book before"

"i liked this one" he smiled.

your smirk died down. "oh, i didn't know that" you tried to find his eyes. "why did you never mention it? i would've read it sooner then"

"it's not a big deal, that was ages ago" he paused, unsure if it was okay to finish the sentence, but you urged him on, nodding repeatedly so he would continue. "rory liked it"

"oh" you said plainly, before you realized that your reaction was all the more telling of your inner jealousy and insecurity about his old relationship. "i mean cool"

"y/n" mattheo muttered, laying the book down in front of you. "it really doesn't matter. we don't even have to mention it again"

"i don't want you to feel like you can't tell me something, just because you experienced it with your ex" you smiled, but it was costing you all your strength. "you can talk about the past, it doesn't bother me"

"that's clearly a lie" mattheo saw through you completely. "you shouldn't have to hide your feelings to make me feel better"

you sighed, realising that it was to no use to lie to him. "sorry, i just—" you shook your head "i don't even know why you decided to break up with her in the first place and i think i'm scared that you'll realize that at one point too"

mattheo looked at you with a soft smile, his gaze searching your eyes as if trying to convey everything he felt with just that look. "y/n, i'm gonna be honest. it’s not that rory wasn’t great," he began, his tone gentle. "she is a really good person, and there was nothing wrong with her. but that doesn’t mean she was the right person for me."

you blinked, trying to process his words as he continued.

"i realized that being with someone just because they seem perfect on the surface doesn’t mean it’s the right fit. we just didn’t connect in the way i needed. with you..." he hesitated, as if searching for the right words, "...it’s different. you make me feel understood. you get me in a way that no one else does."

you looked at him with so much admiration that he had to look down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

"look" he said, when he was able to look in your eyes again. "dating rory was like constantly standing on a pedestal and people expecting me to be something different than i was. that didn't feel right, and it shouldn't. but being with you feels like coming home after a long day, realizing that there's someone in my corner even if no one else likes me for who i am and not for who they see in me"

"i didn't know you felt like that" you muttered, ashamed that you had possibly made him uncomfortable.

"i don't, not anymore" he smiled. "not since i met you. because i don't care about the others. i just care about us, you and me"

"i love you" you said as he kissed your cheek, pulling you closer by your waist.

"i love you" mattheo mumbled against your mouth. "don't ever think you're worth less than her, just because you're not her. if anything that's what makes you more special to me"

you nodded, teary-eyed, as he pushed his lips forward to meet yours. your hands toyed with the hem of his curls as he deepend the kiss.

after that day you never questioned mattheo's choice again. and you could see that both him and rory held a lot of respect for each other. but both were not even interested in anything deeper. mattheo never looked up when he heard her voice anywhere. rory never came to the tree you had often seen them kissing at, back when they had been together.

you realized that being enough for mattheo had never meant being perfect—it had only ever meant being yourself.

[rogueddie]

Runner / End Of Beginning

Steve has never seen his father as upset, as furious, as he was when he got home with his final exam results. He'd known- suspected- that his father would flip when his results came in...

His father got angry at small things. Hearing that he'd had a party while they were away, that a girl went missing at that party, had been the closest Steve thought he'd ever get to recieving a beating.

But when he came home with his grades... when his father realized that his son, his supposed prodigy, barely passed...

Steve has never ran as fast as he currently is.

As soon as he'd seen an openning, a clear line to the door, he'd stumbled to his feet and bolted. He'd picked a random direction and ran. He isn't going to stop running until he physically has to stop, knowing that his father is most likely in his car, trying to find him.

He can't stop. He has to keep running.

Eventually, he has to pause. He has to catch his breath.

He leans against a trailer, panting. He prays that no one thinks to look outside and spot him. He prays that no one will-

"Harrington?"

"Fuck." He hisses, squinting up at- "Munson?"

"What the fuck happened to you?" He says, eyes widenning when he finally gets a look at his face. "Second round with Hargrove, or what?"

"Nothing happened, I'm fine."

Munson eyes him for a moment, frowning. "Is someone after you?"

"What do you care?" Steve heaves a deep breath, forcing himself to stand up straight. He brings his knees up in a few knee highs, gearing up for another sprint.

"Ugh. Just- you can come into my trailer," Munson says, sounding as though Steve is forcing him to make the suggestion. "No one would think to look for you there. You can, like... I don't know. Drink some water? You jocks do that, right?"

"Wh- I don't need your help!"

"I'm not waiting for you all day, come on, let's go!" He makes a wide, exaggerated gesture for Steve to follow.

"You just assume I'm gonna follow?"

"Yeah."

He sounds so confident, so sure, that Steve can't think to do anything other thank blink and say, "fuck it, yeah, alright."

Steve is a little surprised at how much space Eddies trailer has. It's cramped, but in a nice way- the way a home gets when people actually live in it. When the people inside are actually happy and chase those joys.

Munson does get him a glass of water, mumbling at him to "sit anywhere", before flopping onto the sofa himself. He turns the TV on, focusing on that.

"Thanks," Steve eventually mutters, awkwardly sitting down.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about."

"Sure."

"There isn't," he insists, despite how casual and accepting Munson is acting. "It's my fault, anyway. I deserved it."

"Did you?" Munson turns to him, eyebrow raised. "All us freaks and losers can talk about these days is your change of heart. King of Hawkins High turned lame boytoy."

"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better," Steve sneers.

"Even Jeff thinks you're alright now," he barrels on. "Said he bumped into you, pretty hard, knocked all your shit down, and you apologized. Said his coffee ended up on an essay, or something. Thought he was about to get his ass kicked and you just..."

He waves his hand at him, as though that's explination enough.

Steve doesn't know a Jeff, but he's pretty sure he knows who Munson is talking about, and; "I wasn't looking where I was going. If anything, we were both at fault."

"See?" Munson waves his hand at him again, a little more pointed. "Don't doubt you've got a long way to go, but you're not half-bad. You didn't deserve whatever the fuck happened to your face."

"Whatever."

They fall quiet, both pretending to watch whatever is on the TV. Steve is so zoned out that, when someone clears their throat, he flinchs.

"Sorry to startle you boys," the man chuckles. But the humor quickly teeters out, once he gets a good look at Steve. "You alright, kid?"

"I'm fine."

"He's not," Munson grins wide when Steve glares at him.

"Staying the night?" The man continues, only looking at Eddie now.

"If I can convince him," Munson shrugs.

"I can't stay the night," Steve tries.

"Good," the man nods, as though Steve hadn't said anything. "I'll start making us all some dinner." He finally looks to Steve. "You got any allergies?"

"I can't stay," Steve tries again, insisting.

"No," Munson answers for him. "No problems with meat either."

The man gives Munson a thumbs up, heading through to the kitchen.

"I can't stay," Steve repeats, turning to Munson. "Really. I have to go back or... I have to go back."

"What will happen if you don't go back?"

Steve grimaces. "Nothing. Just- I can't stay here."

"Why not? They gonna hit me too?"

"You know what, Munson? Yeah, probably. And your- your dad?"

"Uncle," Munson snorts, standing, stretching. "No one messes with us though. We're too scary." He wiggles his fingers in Steves face as he passes by. "And call me Eddie."

"Why?"

"It's my name."

Steve awkwardly follows him to the kitchen, hovering a good distance from the two of them, watch how they move around each other with so much comfort and ease. It makes something in Steves chest ache.

"Oh, hey, you like football right?" Eddie asks, pointing to him.

"Uh, yeah, kinda. Not enough to have, like, a team." Steve shrugs.

Wayne turns around slowly, eyebrows raised. "You don't got a team?"

Talking football with Wayne is so easy that, until he's halfway through the dinner he cooked, Steve doesn't notice how fast the time is going. He can't bring himself to be bothered though. It's too nice.

Plus, Eddie is almost bouncing with joy at how well Steve and Wayne are getting along.

Someone starts banging on the door, loud and aggressive, as they make their way to the kitchen.

"Alright!" Wayne calls, rolling his eyes. "Hold your horses."

Steves stomach drops when the door opens and his father is on the other side. He smiles at Steve, sickly sweet and dangerously calm.

"Oh, thank God," he sighs. "Steve, your mother and I have been looking all over for you. When you didn't get home-"

Wayne blocks his way when he tries to step inside. "Who are you?"

"Robert Harrington," Steves dad sniffs, leaning back so he can physically look down at Wayne. "I'm here for my son."

"He ain't here."

Robert Harrington splutters, face tinting red with anger and frustration. He points to Steve, voice raising as he says, "he's right there! And he's coming with me."

Wayne turns, slow and casual. "Huh. That's odd. Don't see him."

"Steve," he snaps his fingers at Steve, like he's a dog. "Come on. We're going home."

Eddie shifts so he's standing slightly in front of him.

It's enough reassurance for him to finally snap back; "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Steven-"

"Get off my property," Wayne snaps.

His father glares at them, waiting, as though he expects them to back down. When he doesn't, he snarls; "this is kidnapping."

"He's 18," Eddie drawls.

Grumbling, he stomps off.

"Asshole," Wayne mutters. He shuts and locks the door, sliding on the chain too.

Steve has to sit down, with how much his legs are shaking.

"You alright?" Eddie asks, hesitantly sitting beside him.

"Yeah," Steve says. He's surprised to find he means it. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You can stay here, long as you need," Wayne offers. "You'll have to bunk with Eds though. Not a lot of room."

"Why can't he use the sofa when you're-"

"Nope," Wayne cuts him off. There's a glint of mischief in his eyes that has Steve squinting in suspicion. "And you'll need those cuts looking at. Eddie, why don't you go with him. Medkits in the bathroom."

Steve goes ahead when Eddie points the way to the bathroom.

Eddie tries to give Wayne a warning look but he's unbothered and, with Steves back turned, he gives Eddie an encouraging wink.

[amourjins]

forgot something! - j.wy

pairing , classpresident!wonyoung x fem!reader

synopsis , as listening to beabadoobee’s ‘glue song’, you got an idea to do on your girlfriend.. or at least SOON-to-be girlfriend.

content ahead/genre , fluff!!!, highschool!au, umm no warnings its just silly little fluff

as you walked into class, only spotting your class pres, teacher, and some other classmates that came a little bit early, you took your seat. wonyoung looked up at you when you came in, her face lighting up at the sight of you.

you smiled at her, taking out your books and laptop to prepare for class. a few others walked in right after you, then came the whole class.

the teacher started the lesson when everybody settled in. you took your notes needed, the noise of the teachers writing on the whiteboard spreading throughout the classroom. you looked over at wonyoung, seeing her listening very carefully and closely at the teachers words as she wrote on and on.

“alright, everyone, please take the rest of class to work on your essays!” the teacher suddenly announced, erasing all of the writing off the whiteboard, making you stop doodling onto your notebook paper. you groaned as you turned the girl sitting beside you, kim chaewon. “i hate this essay..” you whispered to her, everyone around you opening up their laptops. “i hate this too, dont worry..” she responded back.

you put in your headphones, opening up spotify on your phone. you put on a random playlist that you had, ‘glue song’ by beabadoobee playing.

it immediately reminded you of wonyoung.

you didnt know why—you two werent even dating, and you didnt even know if she liked girls or not. but, what you do know, is that you two are the closest. always by eachothers side. and that was when you came up with a funny idea to play on wonyoung. she wouldnt play along, right?

as the bell rang, you immediately closed your laptop and slammed your books closed (gently), just happy to be out of that class. you stuffed all of your supplies inside of your backpack, groaning as you put it on. wonyoung seemed to already have packed up, and talking with the teacher. i mean, she was the class president, anyway.

the last bell of the day rang—indicating that everyone was free to head home. you walked out of class, walking to your locker, disposing a few things before you remembered the idea. you always knew wonyoung would be found at the library right after school, so you headed right over, immediately.

you peeked into the library, taking a look around. you took a step in, greeting the librarian as you asked about wonyoungs whereabouts, “do you know where jang wonyoung is?” you whispered, walking over to the counter where the librarian sat. “umm.. should be right at one of the desks. she’s told me about you, ln yn, right?” a light pink blush dawned onto your cheeks the second the librarian spoke. your heart raced, “uhm.. yes, thank you!” you thanked, immediately walking away to cover your face, and especially to calm down.

you walked to where the desks were located, spotting wonyoung flipping through pages of books and her laptop open. you sneaked over to her, standing beside her, “whatre you doing?” you questioned, startling her a bit as she looked at you, smiling. “hi, um, extra credit.” she replied, pointing at her laptop. you didnt understand anything that was on there, so you just nodded.

“anyway, did you need something?” she asked, directing her attention back to the books, shifting around in the chair. “um..” you thought for a second, taking a breath. “you forgot something today.” you lied (but did you really?). “what? huh? whatd i forget? i never forget anything,” she scrambled, as you just stopped her with a giggle. “no, not that.. you forgot to kiss me.”

“..are you serious?” a blush appeared on her cheeks as she turned to you, and you definitely did NOT expect her to react like this. “do you want me to be, jang wonyoung?” you teased, “oh shut up..” the taller girl mumbled, embarrassed, standing up.

“so are you?”

“am i gonna what?”

“kiss me.”

tension fueled between you two as wonyoung grabbed a book out of her book-bag, you confused on what she was about to do. she opened it up, holding it with her left hand. she covered the both of your guys’ side profiles with the book, covering the view of what you guys were about to do.

she leaned in, kissing you as her lips crashed onto yours. immediately after a few seconds, she pulled back, leaving you stunned. she then let go of the book, closing it and putting it back into her book-bag. she then went back to what she was doing, sitting down, acting like nothing happened. you sat down in the chair beside her, in a daze. your face was bright red as you dug your head into the wooden, cold desk.

“..no way class pres did that.” - k.mj

“did what?” - y.jm

“she held up a book to cover her and yns kiss,” - k.mj

‘ DON’T FORGET TO KISS ME,, OR ELSE YOU’LL HAVE TO MISS ME .. ’

[babybatss-blog]

A HELPING HAND

sirius black x reader, 1500 words

summary: if there’s one thing you know, it’s to always trust Professor McGonagall’s advice.

c/w: nerd-ish reader who gets in detention, friends to lovers, confession of love. Mentions of insecurities, but nothing too intense.

a/n: rest in piece to the darling dame maggie smith. I hope I did her and her wonderful character justice, I just wanted to appreciate her in the best way I knew how <3          

You’ve always been a good student. You study hard, get good grades and never get in trouble, sometimes even getting made fun of by nasty students for being a nerd. Sirius never made fun of you though, he was always so sweet when you cancelled on him to study for a particularly hard test or ignore him because your too engrossed in writing your essay.

But why does that even matter now? Your strides through the stone hallway break your thoughts, internally cursing yourself for even slightly letting your mind drift from the problem at hand. You got a detention!

Well, not exactly a detention, but it’s as close as you’ll ever get. Your grades have been dropping below your usual impossibly high standards, and now the headmistress has asked to meet with you to discuss your current predicament. Unlike your Black family counterpart, you pride yourself on academic appearances, especially when it comes to higher up authorities like Professor McGonagall.

You knock on the hard wood door three times, the wood rumbling as it opens almost immediately. Before you sits this aforementioned professor, enveloped by a thick leather armchair and adorned in expensive jewellery. Truthfully, you aspire to be like her someday. Commanding and treacherous, yet simultaneously kind and beautiful. Her emerald broach shimmers in the sunlight pouring into her tiny study, and her slick back bun has a few curled whisps falling out. You wonder how she always gets her hair to sit so nice, and how long that must take every morning.

“Good afternoon Miss McGonagall.” You nervously state, quickly walking in and sitting primly in an armchair. She simply nods, going back to whatever letter she is writing with a soft smile. “I presume you know why I called you in today?” “Of course. And I’m very sorry I’ve fallen behind on my schoolwork professor. I promise I will get that transfiguration parchment to you once my defence against the dark arts test is done, and I’ve been studying tirelessly to get my scores to a more appropriate level, I promise.”

Despite the worry evident on your voice, she merely chuckles, acting as if you made a joke. You didn’t make a joke though, so you furrow your brow in concern. Did you say something wrong?

“No my dear. I was just calling you in to ask about your handwriting.” “My-? Oh yes, apologies for the messiness on my last assignment. I was in a bit of a rush, so I think some of my m’s turned into n’s.” Once again she laughs, this time straight from her belly, her head thrown back. You can’t help but feel your face burn up in embarrassment. “Messiness? Why I never! No darling, I meant to ask how it’s so neat! You see, I’ve been attempting to do those same loops you do on capitals, but I’m afraid I can’t replicate it!”

She slides over to you the parchment she was writing on, revealing random sentences repeated in order to practice replicating your font. Truthfully they are quite shaky, but you wouldn’t admit it to her face anytime soon. “Do you mind writing a few sentences for me? Maybe even casting piertotum locomotor on them so I can’t watch it back would be helpful!” You bashfully fulfill your task, writing some simple words on the page in swirling calligraphy. As you do this, your professor casually talks to you.

“I must say though, you were never much of the type to rush projects. What had you in such a hurry?”

“Nothing really, just a trip to Hogsmeade with Sirius Black.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Oh yes, it really was. Sirius wanted to go into town because he ordered a record from the post office that was due to arrive. It was some muggle band, I think it was called The Beatles? He said they are quite popular, and I see why. The singer is dreamy! He played it for me when we got back to school, and he gave me some of his Berty’s Botts Beans. He knows I love them you see, and he always tries to inspect them before he hands them to me so I don’t get the bad ones. Sometimes he gets it wrong, and I have to suffer anyways. But I…” You eventually realise just how much you have been rambling, as the page is suddenly filled with words you didn’t remember writing and you need to take a deep breath to rid of your light headedness. “Yes, I thought it was nice.” You finish up, not wanting to bore her with your story of a typical day out. But she honestly seems quite intrigued, looking at you with a peculiar arched eyebrow.

“You and that Black boy make a strange pair. A good one at that though.” You chuckle along with her, reminiscing on your differences that complement each other perfectly. “Many do say that. He’s a good friend to me.”

“Friend?” She mirrors, an almost offended tone on her voice. She takes the page away from you and blows on it as to help to ink dry, before placing it in a draw of her desk. “I don’t know why, but I always thought you two were together. Never mind me, I’m a silly old lass now.” Usually you are completely and utterly respectful no matter what is thrown at you, but something in her statement sets off a spark in which you immediately regret. “No! no no no no no. Sirius and I would never! I mean, have you seen how he- no, it would never work.”

Professor McGonagall looks at you in a way that can only be described as utter disbelief, and a tiny hint of disappointment before she speaks. “If you say so. But I have to say, I was just like you back in my day. So naïve…” She sighs, looking blissfully off. “You know…” She twists to face you, a smirk causing her features to almost become young once more. “When I was your age, maybe a little younger I liked a guy. Now don’t tell anyone I told you this but… He was a real dashing man. So proper and smart, but he really knew how to dance when the jukebox started!”

Suddenly you feel like Minerva McGonagall’s best friend, gossiping about your childhoods now those days are long gone. Never would you have expected to see this side of her, but you cannot complain when you see that energetic sparkle in her eye.

“And I believe he like me back. When I was tired he would carry me up to my common room, and and would tuck me in real nice and tight. But I never went any further. I was too nervous. So he started dating my friend, and five years later they got married! I hate to admit it but sometimes I wonder how things would’ve turned out. You don’t have to listen to an out of touch woman like me, but you know I have your best interest at heart.”

It takes you a good minute to properly process her words, repeating them in your head and wondering how she could be so right. No one, not even any of your closest friends have ever realised your concealed feelings, the only being hearing them is your little diary under the moonlight, which knows they will never come true. But here is your teacher, completely demolishing your tiny sense of secrecy and legitimising every worry you’ve ever had. When he kisses some random girl at a party you worry it will last between them, when you can’t find him in his usual spots you worry he’s abandoned you and when you look in the mirror you see merely a friend, someone who will never amount to him. But maybe you could. Maybe there is some universe where he feels the same, and you are lucky enough to be in that universe right now. After all, there always is a chance.   

“Go and get him.” She orders, staring into your soul with her blue eyes. You nod, tears fighting to leave your eyes as the weight of emotion takes over you. You stand up, thanking her breathlessly before running out.

Professor McGonagall knows that she did the right thing, judging by the conversation she had with Sirius about the same subject just the other day.   

[pandapetals]

Love Poem

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, you are a english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

You dig in Logan's desk to find a history textbook and end up finding a poem he wrote but never showed you.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

"I’ll just be a minute," you called over your shoulder, your voice echoing in the hallway as your students shuffled papers and murmured amongst themselves. 

You slipped into Logan’s classroom, the familiar smell of chalk dust and aged wood welcoming you like an old habit. The space felt odd still without him here, the lingering warmth of his presence yet obvious in the organized chaos that cluttered his desk—a pile of essays half-graded, a forgotten coffee cup with a fading ring on the edge.

Your eyes flicked over the bookshelves, seeking the history textbook you needed to weave a little more context into your next lesson. You couldn’t remember which one Logan used, but you were sure he had mentioned it.

Your class was dissecting the complexities of literature, but you’d thought adding historical context might breathe new life into the lesson.

You moved to Logan’s desk which was, like him, layered—precise, yet spontaneous; structured, but with hidden corners of unpredictability. You tugged open the top drawer, the scent of old paper meeting your nose as you spotted the thick textbook nestled atop a jumble of pens and stray notes. You reached for it, the weight of it solid in your hand, but the sudden thunk as it hit the desk startled you. A crumpled piece of paper fluttered to the floor like an afterthought.

You hesitated, your fingers already reaching for it. Something about the way it had been tucked so carefully away made your pulse quicken, a tiny ripple of curiosity stirring in your chest. You crouched and picked it up, smoothing the edges between your fingers. The paper felt worn as if handled too many times, folded and unfolded in moments of private contemplation.

You weren’t one to snoop, not intentionally, but there was something about this slip of paper that pulled you in before your better judgment could intervene. It wasn’t a random note, not a stray grading rubric, or a scribbled reminder. The handwriting—Logan’s unmistakable looping scrawl—was deliberate, careful. Then you saw it, a phrase that caught the breath in your throat before you even realized what it said.

My love, in the quietest hours, you are the melody I hum, the verse I can never finish, the breath between my thoughts.

Your heart stuttered. This wasn’t a note for work. This was poetry. And it was unmistakably his.

You sank into Logan’s chair, eyes tracing the rest of the lines, each word unfurling like petals of a flower you never knew existed in your marriage. Logan had written you poetry. Intimate, raw, overflowing with emotion he rarely expressed in words, at least not like this. But he’d never shown this to you.

A strange mixture of warmth and hurt settled in your chest. Why hadn’t he? Had it been written in the early days, when love was still new and full of wonder? Or was it more recent, penned during some quiet moment when you were too busy grading papers or attending faculty meetings to notice him scribbling away in his office?

The bell rang in the distance, a sharp reminder that the world outside this room still existed, but you couldn’t move. The paper was still in your hand, a fragile secret that somehow felt heavier than the textbook beside it. You stood slowly, your mind whirling with questions you didn’t even know how to ask yet.

The door creaked open behind you. Logan’s voice, familiar and warm, filled the room. "Did you find what you needed?"

You turned to face him, the poem tucked neatly back into the folds of the paper, your fingers trembling just enough for him to notice. He tilted his head, a hint of concern creasing his brow. "Everything okay?"

For a moment, you considered confronting him right there, holding up the poem like a tangible piece of his heart that he’d unknowingly handed over. But something stopped you. Maybe it was the vulnerability in his eyes or the weight of this new discovery that needed time to settle before you could give it words.

"Yeah," you said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "I got what I needed."

Even as you left the room, Logan’s quiet footsteps behind you, the poem whispered in the back of your mind—unfinished, like the love it spoke of, waiting for the right moment to be fully realized.

Later that evening, as the mansion settled into its usual evening quiet, you found yourself in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board echoed in the stillness, but your mind kept drifting back to the poem. The words lingered in your thoughts, hovering over you like a melody you couldn’t shake. 

You stole a glance at Logan, who was sitting on a bar stool at the counter, flipping through a book with an absentminded expression.

He looked so relaxed, his brow smooth, his posture comfortable—the complete opposite of the man who had poured his heart onto that crumpled piece of paper. You wondered how long it had been since he'd last written something like that, or if he'd even thought about showing it to you. The question buzzed at the back of your mind, but you were in no rush to ask. Not yet. You wanted the right moment, one that felt like the softness of the poem itself.

As you stirred the pot on the stove, you caught Logan’s eye from across the room. A small smile tugged at your lips. There it was—the moment.

"So," you started, drawing out the word in a teasing lilt, "I found something interesting today… in your desk."

Logan blinked, lowering the book slightly as his eyebrows furrowed. "In my desk?" His voice had the cautious, playful suspicion of someone who already knew they were in for it but wasn’t quite sure how.

"Mhmm." You turned off the stove, wiping your hands on a dish towel, savoring the small flicker of nervousness in his eyes. You could see the gears turning in his mind, searching for what you might’ve stumbled upon. His face didn’t betray much yet, but the subtle shift in his posture told you he was anticipating something.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing your arms, letting the pause stretch just long enough. "A poem."

Logan froze, the book slipping closed in his lap. His lips parted, but no words came out immediately. The embarrassment washed over his face in slow motion—a soft flush creeping up his neck, his fingers twitching slightly against the fabric of his jeans. He sat up straighter, rubbing the back of his neck as if he could brush away the heat rising in his cheeks. "Ah, that," he muttered, his voice quieter, almost sheepish.

"Yeah, that." You raised an eyebrow, your smile widening as you watched him squirm just a little. "Logan, I didn’t know you had such a way with words. It was… beautiful."

He chuckled, the sound awkward and self-conscious, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at his hands. "I’m not great with words, not really," he said, his voice low but sincere. "I never know how to say things out loud, you know? Writing… I guess it’s easier that way. It’s just—" He paused, struggling to find the right words, his fingers tapping restlessly against the armrest.

You took a few steps closer, softening your tone as you reached for him, placing a hand gently on his knee. "Logan, you don’t have to downplay it. The poem—it was you. Every line. Every word." You tilted your head, catching his gaze, your voice teasing but tender. "How long have you been holding out on me, huh? Keeping all these love poems hidden away?"

Logan’s eyes met yours, a quiet vulnerability there that he rarely showed. He let out a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Honestly? I wrote it ages ago. It just… never felt like the right time to give it to you, I guess."

You nodded, understanding settling between you like a shared secret. "But why not? I mean, it’s… it’s lovely. It’s us."

Logan exhaled slowly, his hand reaching up to cover yours. "I don’t know. I guess part of me thought it wasn’t enough. Like, I can never quite say what I want to say. You deserve more than half-finished poems on crumpled paper."

You squeezed his hand, feeling the tension in his grip, and leaned in just a bit closer, your voice softening to a near whisper. "Logan, I don’t need anything more. That poem—it’s enough. It’s more than enough." You paused, letting your fingers brush gently over the back of his hand. "In fact… I want more."

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise and something warmer beneath it. "More?"

You nodded, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I want more of you—on paper, in words, in poems. Write them for me. Even if they’re unfinished. Even if they’re messy. I don’t care." You leaned in closer, your voice barely more than a murmur now. "I want to see more of what’s in here." You tapped gently against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

Logan’s expression softened, the embarrassment fading away as something else took its place—relief, maybe, or something akin to it. He smiled, the kind of smile that was just for you, full of that quiet, understated affection he had always carried. "I’ll try," he said softly, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you. My poetry gets very cheesy."

You laughed, the sound warm and light, and pulled him into a kiss, the poem forgotten in the best possible way as you sank into the moment with him, the quiet hum of affection settling comfortably between you.

When you finally pulled away, you whispered, "Cheesy’s my favorite."

Logan grinned, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Well then, I better start scribbling some more love notes," he teased, but his eyes were sincere, a new promise between the two of you.

As you turned back to finish dinner, your heart felt lighter and fuller, knowing that somewhere, in a drawer or a notebook or maybe even on the back of a napkin, more of Logan’s words were waiting for you—tangled, imperfect, but always from the heart.

[luvz-me]

being at the last year of your sports medicine university course abroad in america was like a dream come true. but in all honesty you just wanted it to be over and quick. the prospect of having to intern at a random clinic for three months wasn't appealing at all. you made sure to send your cv to different physiotherapy clinics, gyms, sports clubs but still no answer.

watching all your colleagues start earlier than you was discouraging until one afternoon, after watching 2 boring movies a guy at a club told you to watch last night you got a call.

someone with a very poised voice starts talking almost immediately, "good afternoon, i'm speaking on behalf of the sports clinic and i was wondering if you'd be available for an interview tomorrow morning regarding your internship application?"

you almost envied the way there wasn't any hint of nervousness in their voice. it was almost immediate the way you accepted the offer, in all honesty you just wanted to get it over with.

you started your internship there after almost a week until one day, by the evening you witnessed something you never thought you would. tashi fucking duncan walking in the clinic right as you were about to leave. you felt your stomach turn, not in the bad way, but in the - what the fuck, did i hit my head somewhere and wake up in an alternate universe? - way. your anxiety making you want to throw up seeing one of the people you wrote countless essays about stand before you.

"i'm looking to book a sports physician. medium term for art donaldson, need them to be able to come in-house monday through friday." you heard her say to the receptionist, blunt yet always polite. one of your idols standing just a few meters away from you made you weak at the knees. you were aware the clinic was well frequented but you never thought she'd be in your sight ever.

you looked at your nails, pondering if you should start biting them, regaining a bad habit just because you found yourself in a situation you couldn't control sounds very much like you but tashi probably would think that's gross so you stop.

a client you had been assigned to arrives and you curse yourself out for not being able to keep listening to the conversation anymore. the day never ended. each glance you took at the clock just seemed like you were stopped in time. sighing while helping the elder woman stretch her upper body and muttering some words of praise, explaining to her that she'd have to keep coming for at least one more week so the pain could dissipate. you flashed her a smile as she got up and said goodbye, thanking you endlessly for helping her ease the pain.

your supervisor had been watching you. giving some criticism on this session with the client. as you were about to leave she pulled you aside and informed you that starting tomorrow you'd be going to tashi duncans house.

everything inside was pristine, you were even scared to even lean against the furniture in fear you'd somehow break it. tashi had given you a quick house tour, her heels clacking on the hardwood floors as she warmed you up to her, occasionally telling jokes about herself and saying you reminded her of herself. when she was in college. you didn't really know what that meant but you decided to take it as a compliment, nervously fidgeting your fingers. art was nowhere to be seen up until you reached the gym area.

standing there, broad shoulders scrolling through his phone, distracted and flashing a smile towards his wife once she clears her throat and wraps an arm around his shoulder. introducing you to each other and leaving promptly, saying she had a meeting with her pr team and that she'd be back at 8 pm.

you swallow dry. standing there awkwardly with your backpack on your shoulders.

"so.. umm were gonna start with wall angels maybe. tashi told me thats your problem area right now" you blurted out, trying to sound as professional as possible "just. place your arms against the wall in a 90 degree angle and slowly straighten them"

art follows suit, standing against the wall awkwardly moving his arms up and down before asking "how old are you?" breaking the silence

"i'm 21" you mutter in surprise analysing his form and his toned shoulders, and arms.. and muscles. eyes narrowing trying to remind yourself that this is not one of your hookups, this is art fucking donaldson and you're here for an internship. at his house. in his fancy home gym. hes not yours to admire. "why?"

"ah.. just wanted to know" art shrugs, looking at you intently. he gets up suddenly, yet his movements are deliberate. you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, your pulse quicken as i looked at the man before me. "can you show me how to do it properly?" his voice drops to a lower tone and all you can do for a few seconds is flutter your lashes at him

"but this is pretty easy already, i don't know how to ex-"

"i said, i want you to show me" art cuts you off, his gaze literally burning through your skull

art mirrors your movements, his eyes never leaving yours. you hope he doesn't notice the slight tremble in your hands.

"like this?" he asks, his voice even softer now, almost a whisper.

you nod, your breath hitching. "yes, just like that. make sure to keep your back flat against the wall."

he follows your instructions, his body inching closer. you can feel the heat emanating from him, a stark contrast to the cool, clinical setting of the gym. there's a tension in the air, a charged silence that makes your heart race.

"you're good at this," he murmurs, his eyes darkening with an emotion you can't quite place

your cheeks flush, the compliment catching you off guard. "i appreciate that, mr. donaldson."

he moves closer, his body now just inches from yours. you can feel the magnetism between you, a pull that's impossible to ignore. his hand reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. the gesture is tender, almost too intimate for your professional setting. "it's art, yeah? call me art, i don't want to feel like an old fart" he grins

"i should… i should check your shoulder alignment," you stammer, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "you're a bit tight here," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "let me help you."

you guide him through a series of stretches, your hands lingering a bit longer than necessary on his shoulders, his back. the room feels smaller, the air thicker with each passing moment.

the session was over. finally. you gathered your things and slid your backpack over your shoulders. art's gaze is still on you and it's impossible not to feel it "are you in a hurry to leave?"

"umm, no i just. no im not in a hurry" you smile "just don't want to bother you anymore" your breath catches in your throat

"i was hoping we could talk a bit more. get to know each other better." he smirks. what the fuck "tashi told me some things about you but i think one on one conversation is far better" grabbing your hand and guiding you to a small resting area at the gym engaging in some superficial conversation about you while tracing circles in the back of your hand. you can't help but sigh. his hands becoming more and more pervasive, touching your thighs, reaching up up up until he's close to your crotch. a slight whine escapes your mouth. you're not focusing on the conversation at all.

"art, this is not-"

"tashi doesn't have to know" he replies knowing tashi knows damn well. hell, she even planned this for him. it wasn't her intention to scout a pretty little physiotherapist like you at first. but you were at the right place, at the right time. the moment she took a glance at you she knew she had to have you. it was a plus art needed help with his shoulders. his hands roaming on the waistband of your tight leggings, your mouth parting with a sigh. sigh that he takes as opportunity to crash his lips against yours. your eyes narrow at first and for a second you try to pull back but you don't really want to.

his fingers edging closer to your panties, the tightness of the leggings increasing the skin on skin contact. "aw you look so pretty with your lips parted. you wanna take my fingers in you don't you huh?" now hovering over you, caressing you over your top "fucking corrupt that little head of yours"

you can't help but let out a moan that sends him over the edge. sliding your leggings down caressing you over your panties. before pushing two fingers inside your mouth for you to suck. "you want this don't you baby?"

"mhm" you nod trying your hardest not to bite him when he uses his opposite hand to caress your sensitive nub. furrowing your eyebrows trying your hardest not to grab his arm. his calloused fingers leaving your plump mouth suddenly and making a 'pop' sound "but tashi might" cut off by the pads of his fingers circling your clit

"tashi doesn't mind" his voice hungry "im just helping you out yeah? we're just getting acquainted" one of his fingers teases your entrance slowly entering earning a sharp wince from you. the unfamiliar feeling slowly turning into pleasure as he slid it in and out "open your eyes f'me, let me see those pretty eyes"

you bite your lip staring at his face as he does such a lewd thing to you, and you let him. knowing he has a wife. somehow this made it even more arousing. whats wrong with you? "gonna add one more finger, fuck you're so tight around me, so good. i bet that clit would feel so good around my tongue" small tears cornering around your eyes. the soft noises leaving your lips only encouraging him to keep going.

"feels good huh baby?" he coos, his face edging closer and closer to your clit as your hips rise, only to stop once you're about to cum. abruptly sliding your panties back up along with your leggings.

this earns him a well deserved mewl. edging you like this. stopping when you were just so so close was just so mean of him. looking up at him just to see him lick your juices off his fingers, feeding them to you. "suck" he commands "don't be mad, i just need to make sure you come back for more sessions" fixing your hair and picking up your backpack from where you left it on the gym floor

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[oatsmeall]

You and I?

Socially awkward!Jk! X f!reader | college AU

Warnings: Socially awkward jk, very awkward jk, suggestive themes, possible smut.

(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+(人*´∀｀)

For as long as you've been coming to this course you've always seen this quiet guy, he always come in 5 minutes exactly before class starts, he brings the same black metal water bottle with one singular sticker, and he's always quiet but always raises his hand to answer questions. You didn't really pay much attention to him untill today specifically though, of course you noticed his usual quirks but today? Man, it's like he became a new man. You never thought the awkward nerdy guy would pull up to class late with new piercings. On his eyebrow and his lip. You were stunned to say the least, he's... Hot? This totally normal thing called being 'tardy' suddenly seamed like a sense of rebellion, especially for this guy, Jeon Jungkook. Wow, such a bad boy.

Throughout the week he'd show up less covered, usually he'd wear sweater vests with a neatly tucked shirt and black or brown slacks or occasionally jeans. Now he's been wearing oversized shirts and baggy sweats and jeans. And not to mention his entirely detailed sleeve on his arm, which has very much been in the works for quite the while you bet. Where was the cute nerdy boy you knew? This was a whole new man. Even the girls that never bat an eye started noticing. You weren't going to lie and say you weren't a little jealous. I mean come on? These girls were ignoring him just 2 weeks ago, now they're fawning over him and his new look.....

"STUDENT SETTLE DOWN PLEASE. today we'll be writing an essay about what we've learned this month. Please be sure to turn the essay in by Friday night." The professor was making y'all write an essay. This is so boring, you were just thinking about that comfortable bed of yours.

While digging in your backpack for your laptop and some paper, you couldn't find any sort of writing utensils. This was so annoying, how is it that Suddenly when you ACTUALLY need a pen or pencil you couldn't find one. Jesus Christ, what a unlucky way to start on homework.

"pssst, hey.. hey, ppsssst" you were trying to whisper call on Jungkook, he was not budging. "Jeon, hey" you were not getting anywhere. Suddenly he side eye looked at you. Okay?...

"what do you want, were supposed to get busy." He said monotoned, he really is still nerdy sounding.

"well I won't get anywhere near busy if you'd just hear me out for a bit. Do you have a pen or pencil I can borrow, please?" You're regretting asking. He's probably gonna decline and say 'you should've brought your own".

"hmm.. I do, but you have to give it back, I always keep 4 pencils exactly." Close to the response you thought.. kinda.

"ugh okay, thanks" ou! Fancy mechanical pencil! And it had a cool retractable eraser!

This essay was gonna kill you. come to think of it what did you even learn this month?....

You and Jungkook had became friends, this past month you slowly would talk to him or try to talk big conversations, you really found him interesting. He was like a new subject you were trying to learn about. You've learned he's quite....odd? He didn't get your jokes sometimes, he was unaware of social cues at times, and he was too straight up. You thought he didn't like you, he was so blunt. on a random day when you guys went to the library he commented on how messy your notes were, how your hair was messy and looked unprofessional for school, and even on how wearing Birkenstocks with socks was strange. He was nitpicking random things, things you wouldn't even pay attention to. This gave you a feeling of self awareness, you felt like he didn't like you, he was making you realize a lot of things you hadn't.

"Jungkook, I really like you but you've got to stop nitpicking things I don't even notice, I'm sure you can keep it to yourself? You don't hear me saying how the way you styled your hair today looks off from yesterday, or how you're wearing two different shades of black and I don't like that."

"why wouldn't you like it? I like it." He said confused and somewhat agitated.

You gave him a knowing look of "do you see now?"

He sat silently before asking

"do you really not like my two different shades of black?" There was a pause before you started giggling. He looked so confused, you couldn't help but giggle.

"alright. Wanna come by my dorm tonight? Study a little and maybe order takeout and watch a movie? Shrek perhaps?" You tried changing the conversation hoping he'd forget the little conflict.

This would be the first time you invite him to your dorm, you were too shy to ask, he was also shy though, more than you probably. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"uhm..sure.. just send me you dorm number." He seemed shy just asking that, you were excited though. He was such a cute and smart guy, he was very helpful when studying. He taught you new things too, the other day he taught you about why pigeons don't know how to build nests.

Around 6:30 he texted you saying he's on his way to your dorm. You were SO nervous for no reason, you tried to tidy up around your room, and by tidy you mean deep cleaned. You've never seen such a clean room, you loved it though.

*Knock, knock, knock*

"Comiingggg" you walked to your door and opened it to Jungkook. In a black tee shirt and grey sweat pants.. you felt your hear beat faster. He looked so.. FINE.

"Hello Y/n, I didn't know what kind of drink you liked so I bought Gatorade, orange juice, and water. I hope you like.. these." He looked so genuine, you appreciate him for trying.

"oh wow! I like all. I wouldn't have minded your pick. Thanks though, come in. Make yourself comfortable." He came in and sat himself on your bed, he was looking around curiously. He was looking attentively, like he was gather information.

"sorry if you might not like the scent in my room, Im trying this mango air freshener out-"

"I like it. It's okay. So where are your notes and stuff, we can get started right now if you'd like, that way we can have more time to hangout..if you want."

This genuinely surprised you? He wanted to spend time with you? Your heart had a sudden rush.

"oh? O-okay, yeah. Uhm let me get my laptop." You hurriedly grabbed your bag, you bent down you're oblivious but your ass caught Jungkook's attention by accident. He stared.. he felt his blood rush down his pants.

"okay I've got my laptop!" You walked to your bed and plopped next to him.

His face was red. Visibly red actually.

"you okay?"

"y-yeah.." he looked away from you in embarrassment. Immediately onto his notes.

After a long hour and a half, you guys were done, you decided to order for delivery instead, Jungkook didn't want to go out anymore, you were tidying around your room, who new studying was messy.

"can't wait for that pasta, I'm hungry. Also hot, this hoodie is too warm" Jungkook look slightly, seeing you take your hoodie off made HIM hot.. his body tensed up. Your black halter top made your boobs look so good, he caught a glimpse of them before you turned to him.

"freeeee!" you said in a giggle.

He was respectful, of course.. but he still IS a man.... with male... tendencies.

"can I use your restroom, please? I need to wash my hands"

"why the restroom? I've got a small sink by the dresser." You pointed to the hidden sink.

"I have to use the restroom too." He said straight faced. He was trying to get away from you as fast as possible or else his print would be visible VERY quickly, maybe he shouldn't have worn grey sweats. Maybe two different shades of black wasn't bad after all like you said.

"okay, yea. It's that door right there." You're not sure why but you have a feeling you made Jungkook uncomfortable, what could you have possibly done.

*knock, knock, knock*

"ouuu pasta must be here. JUNGKOOK! PASTAS' HERE!" you got out of your bed and quickly answered the door. You're excited.

After some very awkward moments of eating and small talk you put on Shrek the movie, you guys were on your bed now. But you felt a sudden rush, you've been avoiding thinking about him but he's so fine. He's hot in this little ensemble he put together, the grey sweats made his print noticable. Your mouth felt dry all of the sudden. You felt and decided to lay down and drape your legs on his thighs. You felt his body tense up. This made you feel butterflies. It's almost like you had an ad advantage.

"uhm.. Y/n.. I- " you cut him off and looked up at him directly into his eyes. Oh those siren eyes of yours.. they're killing him. His eyes began to widen when he realized that you're now turned around facing his lap. More so his crotch.

"Kook.." you start innocently. "Have you ever been... Touched?" You said softly and quietly. You scared him. He can't comprehend how you'd gone from fun from "fun and nice, sweet and understandable" to "horny seduction demon" he's also never had physical Intimacy, only cute kisses and hugs. This was odd, he liked how he felt though. You gave him butterflies.

"N-no" you looked at him straight in his eyes again. This time you say up slightly and palmed his dick through his sweats. He let out an lewd quiet moan. Your pussy was pulsating from excitement.

"mm poor boy. Do you like when I touch you like this?" You say quietly. You began stroking the outline of his dick, then you pulled his sweats down following after, his boxers. His hard Dick sprung up. You were in awe at the largeness before your eyes. You didn't know what you expected.. but surely not this monster. The sayings are true. It's always the quiet and shy ones.

"auh.. fuck" he whispered lewdly. What a turn on.

"mhm? You like that kookie?"

Precum began to slowly ooze from out the tip. Red and sore from the friction being created from your hands. You started pacing faster, stokes becoming gradually faster.

"augh, f-fuck. I don't wanna c-"

You sunk you whole mouth on his cock. Filling your mouth with only half of his cock. You started deep thoating, harder and faster, the lewd noises becoming louder and messier. Chocking on his dick you took him like a champ.

"I'm not done with you babe." You say with saliva and cum dripping from your mouth. You're Cock drunk.

"Y-you're not?!" He seemed genuinely shocked.

You got up and sat on his lap, legs sitting on either side of his thighs. Your booty shorts rode more up your thighs.

You began to ride him. Fully clothed, you began riding, Jungkook instinctively grabbed your ass and pressed you down to create harder friction.

"mm- F-fuck. Oh my, Jungkook augh- you moaned loudly, your pussy was so wet and it was throbbing. Suddenly. Jungkook's switched. He became the lewd one. You never expected to hear something like this come out of his mouth..

"Yeah? You like that you fucking slut? You like seducing quite guys?" He said through his teeth in a hiss. Gripping your ass. Your so turned on at his sudden switch.

"mhm baby" you mewed.

"take the shorts off. Now" yes sir. Anything for Me. Jeon.

You got up off him and you did a little strip tease. It was better that what Jungkook visioned.

You slowly hopped back on him and you grabbed his cock and slowly sat on him. Man was he stretching you out. Nice and good.

"augh fuck Kook. You're so big" you said in a gasp. He just looked at you with a smirk. Man you loved every minute of this.

"that's right baby take me like a fucking champ" you sat on him completely but suddenly.. when you began riding, his speed increased, he began slamming into you.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, augh babe, you're hitting the spot" your moans were something straight out of a porn video.

"yeah? You like that? Look at me when I fuck you Y/n look at me." He said grabbing your face. Who is this man?! This isn't shy little Jungkook with the cute boba eyes?! This was Jeon Jungkook. The fucking man.

After what felt forever, you and Jungkook did some after care. He went and fetched you an after pill at the nearest pharmacy. Yes at 1 am.

You were beat. Inside and out. Literally. You felt numb, could hardly walk. Your pussy was sore. You can't count how many times he made you cum and squirt but he really overstimulated you. You're so ready for a part 2 of this.

The next day you went to class and sat with Jungkook. Suddenly he became shy again?! Two faced much?

Guys... Let me know if you want a part 2 lol, this is my first time writing a fanfic lol🥹

[justatypicalwizard]

A scrap from your book

Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming

Roommate Bakugo who is forced to share a room with you for about three months due to unexpected construction works in the college apartment he occupied. The whole Bakusquad was moved to random rooms. To make it worse they were all shared ones. You agreed to take in a male occupant.

Roommate Bakugo who tries to spend as much time outside of the cramped college room as possible. He feels like he's kinda invading your privacy as well as just finding the whole situation uneasy.

Roommate Bakugo who has to complete a bunch of assignments but the library is packed in the late afternoon hours, the air thick with gossip, stress, sweat and annoyance. Bakugo finally wandered off to the dorm room to find some peace for his work.

Roommate Bakugo who spotts you always turn off your lamp and tune down the brightness on your laptop when he tells you he's going to sleep.

"You don't have to do that." He grunts, already wrapped up in heavy covers.

"I don't mind, you do the same." Because he does.

Roommate Bakugo who walks on you watching a film he loves. At first he just circles the small room mindlessly, more interested in the unwrapping dialogue between his two favourite characters than the laundry he's picking up.

"You wanna watch?" You ask, pausing the movie.

"No. I was going to do my laundry."

"I can wait, I can buy some snacks in the meantime, I was looking for an excuse to do it anyway."

So the two of you ended up finishing the film together, sitting on your bed.

Roommate Bakugo who talks to you more, geting used to the situation faster than he thought he would. You both sit by your desks working on the boring college stuff. He spotted you were trying hard, not slacking around and keeping most of your deadlines. Even if he didn't want to admitt it, he was impressed. Not that he didn't do the same, it's just rare to find a person who actually cares.

Roommate Bakugo who didn't know how to phrase a sentence. He was working on a piece of paper for the last two hours after an intense day of workout and his brain refused to cooperate anymore.

"Can I ask you for a favour?" Your face appeared from behind your laptop screen.

"Depends on what is it."

"I finished a short essay and I wanted to ask if you could read it and tell me if it makes sense."

Might as well take a break to refresh his mind. Bakugo read through the text and came to the conclusion that you were a good writer. A very good writer in fact.

"How would you say that in other words?" He asked after you were happy with your work, your laptop tossed aside as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone.

You skipped to him, read through the sentence and gave him a paraphrase, one that he wouldn't think of himself.

"Thanks."

Roommate Bakugo who was eying you book collection for some time. You had a bunch. When he asked the two of you started talking and in went on and on and on. Finally, you stood up on your bed, the sheets dipping in where you stretched out to reach the highest shelve. Picking out a book you handed it to him.

"My favourite."

So he started to read it.

Roommate Bakugo who got a text from you that you wouldn't be back in the dorms for the night. After a shower he laid down in his bed, shirtless, with your book in hand. It was definitely worth it and he was way past the half already. Suddednly the doors opened only to reveal you, eying him up and down.

"The fuck you doing here?" Suddenly Bakugo felt a tad bit embarassed about his bare chest and lose sweatpants.

"My friend cancelled, sorry, you have someone over?" A small sly grin appeared on yoru lips.

"Jeez no, I'm just half naked."

"I don't mind." You shrugged, throwing your bag on the bed.

And what was that supposed to mean?

Nevermind. Bakugo wanted to get back to the story when he spotted something horrific. His hand gripped a nice chunk of the page, torn out of the book. He must have done it when you startled him with the grand entrance. It was readable as he only torn the cream white but it still looked nasty.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He didn't even look at you, opting on eying the damage, embarassement creaping up his cheeks for destroying someone's else belonging. One of yoru favourite belongings.

You came over, looked at the book and started to laugh.

"What's so fucking funny?" From embarassed Bakugo quickly merged into defensive.

"You look as if you killed my grandma. It's just a book." You saw that it didn't make him feel better, in fact the frown in his brows deepened. "I like my books being used. Lets treat it as a memory of you reading it. Give me the torn piece, please." Your hand reached out and he put the scrap into your open palm.

You skribbled something down on it using a pen fished out of your drawer. When you gave it back to him, the paper read 'Don't stress so much, dummy.'

"You can keep it." A smile brightened your face as you turned around to do other things.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that he kept that scrap in the back of his phonecase at all times.

Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that it took you roughly two months to steal his rock-like heart away.

[spiders-around]

YOU MUST MAKE A WEBSITE

Oh wow, look at that! YET ANOTHER post urging you to make a webbed site! What a completely new thing that people haven't made a thousand masterposts for already!!

• Making a website might look scary. It is Not.

At first, I too thought making a website was too much work. It really isn't! It turns out that all you need is

an HTML file,

a web hosting service and

w3schools tutorials,

and that's about it!

This post will point you towards these resources, and others I found useful while figuring out how to make a website.

• VERY QUICK EXPLANATIONS:

What's HTML and CSS?

HTML is the content of your webpage, the skeleton of it. What shows up in a webpage is what's written in the HTML file!

CSS is the way the HTML is styled; the colour of the background and the letters, the size of elements, the font, all that!

Do I absolutely NEED JavaScript for a website?

Not at all! You don't need to worry about learning it before getting started.

• What do I make a website for? What do I put in there?

ANYTHING AND ALMOST EVERYTHING. Here's some ideas for pages from a post of mine were I was very normal about websites:

You can make a page that's only pictures of your pets.

You can make an interactive adventure.

You can make your own academic blog full of your own essays or articles.

You can just post a ton of art or make a full music page.

You can make a blog and infodump eternally, give book reccs and reviews. You can host a thousand virtual pets and nothing else.

Upload entire books in a single html file. Make a wikipedia for your ocs. Make a fake site for a random fictional place (restaurant, hotel, whatever). You can make a thousand fanpages/shrines about your favorite media. You can upload your own webcomic and make it all like a fancy website and shit.

I could keep going but, for the sake of "brevity", I won't.

• WEBSITE EXAMPLES!

If I started listing the websites I know, this post would be bottomless. Here's only seven:

https://publictransit.neocities.org/ - A webbed site, for sure

https://ribo.zone/ - A personal site

https://leusyth.neocities.org/ - An art archive

https://solaria.neocities.org/ - Personal website with A Lot of stuff (it'll come up in a bit, because it offers web making resources)

https://hog.neocities.org/ - The Hogsite

https://thegardenofmadeline.neocities.org/ - Another personal site! It also has a web resources page and has made another masterpost like this one (but better)

https://spiders.neocities.org/ - My own website, which must be weird to see in mobile . sorry

• You've convinced me. I want a webbed site. Where do I start?

https://neocities.org/

FIRST OF ALL: Neocities. It is a free web hosting service, and it's the one I and the sites I linked use!

When I first started, my website was a black page with red letters and a drawing, and nothing else! It was like that for a month, till i started picking up on how to do things.

Here's what helped me get an idea of how to make things work:

https://sadgrl.online/learn/articles/beginners-guide-neocities

An absolute beginners guide to neocities -- while when you make an account there you get a tutorial page from the site, this one's extra support for that.

https://www.w3schools.com/

Learn HTML, CSS, JavaScript and MANY other coding things for free. All the tutorial/reference pages have live testing windows for you to mess with!! helped me a LOT while figuring this stuff out!

https://htmlcheatsheet.com/

https://htmlcheatsheet.com/css/

Cheatsheets for HTML and CSS, respectively. It includes a JavaScript one too!

https://sadgrl.online/webmastery/

Sadgrl's webmastery resources! Also includes the next resource listed here:

https://sadgrl.online/projects/layout-builder/

Sadgrl's layout builder; not a lot of customization at a first glance, but I've seen wildly different websites all using it as a base, plus it works using CSS Flexbox, so it generates a responsive layout!

(basically, a responsive layout is one that translates well in different sized screens)

https://www.tumblr.com/fysa/728086939730919424/wikitable-code?source=share

Tumblr user fysa made this layout imitating a wiki page!

https://brackets.io/

At some point, you might want to do things outside the Neocities code editor and get one outside the site. I recommend Brackets, because my old as fuck computer can run that and absolutely nothing else apparently, and it works wonderfully! Though I recommend either turning off the code autocomplete or using it after a good while of already using the Neocities code editor, so you get used to coding on your own.

http://www.unit-conversion.info/texttools/text-to-html/

Turn your text into HTML code! i use this kind of pages for my lengthy blog entries that I don't feel like formatting myself.

https://imagecompressor.com/

COMPRESS YOUR IMAGES.

The heavier an image is, the more your site weighs and the more time your page will spend loading. You don't want that, specially if your site is heavy on graphics. This might help!

https://solaria.neocities.org/guides

Some CSS, JavaScript and Accessibility guides! Worth checking out!

https://eloquentjavascript.net/

This is a free, interactive book for learning JavaScript! NOTE: It is very intuitive, but JavaScript is HARD!! I still haven't learned much of it, and my website does fine without so don't worry if you end up not doing much with it. It's still useful + the exercises are fun.

And now, accessories!

• Silly stuff for your page :]

https://gifypet.neocities.org/

Make a virtual pet, copy the code and paste it in your HTML file! You'll get a little guy in your webbed site :]

https://www.wikplayer.com/

Music player for your website!

http://www.mf2fm.com/rv/

JavaScript silly effects for your site :]

https://blinkies.neocities.org/geoblinkies

Blinkie search engine!

https://www.cbox.ws/

Add a chatbox to your site!!

https://momg.neocities.org/

Infinite gallery of gifs. i've spent hours in there looking at moving pictures and out of them all, the ONLY gif i actually ended up using on my site was a rotating tomato slice. it is still there. trapped.

https://wrender.neocities.org/tarotinstructions

A widget that gives you a random tarot card!

https://www.websudoku.com/widget.php

Sudoku widget!

That's about it for now! I don't know how to end this!!! Remember to have fun and google everything you don't know :]

[tlouadditc]

smoking with roommate!ellie... a thought.

song being thought of while writing: hold on by the internet

WARNINGS: smut [18+, MDNI], fluff if u squint ur eyes, drug use [weed], awkward convo with ellie LMAO, ellie is a horny stoner, fingering, oral [r!receiving], jealousy, love confession. pet names (mostly baby and princess) words: 1.7k, rating: MATURE

note: this is like my first smut [not to mention my first fic] so erm if there are grammar errors or some parts that dont make sense im sorry 😭😭😭 enjoy!

it's been a long week; essay after essay, multiple assignments to turn in, and now you have 3 tests in the next 2 days. you had walked home in the rain, not even bothering to pull out your umbrella. fuck it, you thought, my dorm isn't that far.

you lazily pulled out your keys, unlocking the front door. as soon as you open the door, you're met with a pungent- well, that's harsh; a not-so-pleasant- smell of weed and a random fruity ass candle. you cough and look around to see who the hell is smoking he-

"oh, hey, y/n." ellie was sitting on the couch, manspreading in front of the tv while smoking a blunt. her eyelids were heavy and she had a smug smile. "oh, uh. sorry about the smell.. i took a random candle."

you set your bags down and took your shoes off, waving your hand in front of your face to remove the smell temporarily. "all.. all good." god, she looks good, you thought. she was sitting in a white wifebeater and loose sweatshorts, sitting just right on her hips so you could see her boxers. the way she was looking at you and smiling made your face heat up, thinking thoughts no roommate should think.

she took another drag and patted beside her, signaling for you to join her. you quickly shook your head and said, "gotta change. i got soaked out there."

"i coulda picked you up, babe."

babe? your face was burning hot now as if it wasn't already. you hurriedly walked to your room, blurting out, "i'll be there in a second!"

jesus. ellie had never been this.. flirty before. you've liked her for a while, if you're being kinda honest. you had been in love, if you were completely honest with yourself. she had always been on your mind ever since you moved in with her. walking around, just in boxers and some tank-top that made her arms look deliciously toned- god, she probably doesn't even know what she does to you.

shaking your head, you change out of your completely wet clothes and into some thin shorts and a crop top before walking back out.

"took ya long enough," she said, chuckling. "i was about to just go to sleep."

"sorry, els." you sat beside her on the couch, looking at what was on tv. "american dad? really?"

"i just turned on the tv," she muttered, passing you the blunt. "how was your day?"

you took the blunt into your mouth, taking a looong drag and inhaling, burning your throat slightly. "same old shit," you exhaled. "im just glad this stressful ass week is over."

"stressful, eh? im glad i decided to do this tonight then," she said, turning her attention from the tv onto you.

"me, too."

"sooo," she started, "how are you and whats-his-name?"

"what about him?" you questioned, noticing a slight change in her demeanor when you immediately remembered him. "we're.. not dating. nothing's goin' on."

"what's going on with y'all? i thought you guys were going on dates n' stuff." she sat up, suddenly all in on your relationship status.

"uhm.. it's not him. he's a great person. it's just.." you slightly glanced at her. she was looking like she was anticipating the rest of your sentence.

"the sex is awful," you admit. it was the truth, but not the whole truth; the entire time he was trying to fuck you, you were thinking about ellie. he clearly was only thinking about his own orgasm. whenever he did attempt to do something for you, he either gave up or you had to fake it so he got off of you. he always came before you did. ellie probably wouldn't do any of this, you would think to yourself before making yourself cum after he left.

ellie looks at you, wide eyed, and chuckles. "what?" you ask, defensive.

"i mean.. you wouldn't have thought the dude was a sex god," she mumbled. "he was the nerdiest dude known to man."

"i- i know," you utter, slightly embarrassed. "i don't wanna talk about it anymo-"

"did he make you cum at all?"

your jaw drops, in shock of what she just said. "uh.. no. not at all."

"jesus, you should've told me earlier," she sighs, looking at you with concern- and something else. "i could've helped y'all. or just you."

you don't know if it's just the weed or true feelings coming out of her mouth, but you swear you can feel her staring at your body, feel her moving closer. you slowly put the blunt down in the ashtray and make eye-contact with ellie.

"you know, y/n," she whispers, "i've always wondered why you would go out with these dudes and i'm right here. i see the way you look at me- hell, i've heard you fucking yourself."

your face heats up, quickly embarrassing you. "i- i'm sorry, el-"

you're suddenly cut off by ellie meeting her lips with yours. the kiss is passionate- you can feel the true feelings from ellie, feel the frustration from being ignored. you straddle her crotch, still kissing, slightly rocking back and forth. the friction from your shorts and her crotch has you soaked, whimpering a little into her mouth. she chuckles into the kiss before separating for air. "so needy already," she breathes, gliding her hands from your face, down your sides, and onto the meat of your thighs, rubbing up and down. you slightly nod, looking down, feeling slightly embarrassed of how you look right now.

"hey, look at me." one hand moves from your thigh up to your chin, making you meet eyes with her. ellie's eyes had looked different- darker, in a sense. the way she was looking at you made you wetter than ever before, wondering what she wanted to do with you. "how about we take out some of that stress, yea?"

her hands snaked under your crop top, her warm fingertips meeting your hardened nipples. she smirked. "no bra? you're gonna kill me." taking off your top slowly, her breath hitched. "god." she took one nipple into her mouth, pinching the other one in between her pointer finger and thumb. "els- fuck," you moaned, grinding on her lap. the wet spot in your panties definitely went through your shorts by now. "you're making a mess all over me, pretty girl," she cooed, still pinching your nipple. "tell me what you want."

"i- i want you," you cried, overstimulated by the sensation on your breasts. she let go of your nipple with a loud pop and let go of your nipple, making you whine from the loss of contact. "use your words. cmon, i know you can do it, princess." she sat back, waiting for your response. "p-please.. touch me," you utter, still slightly grinding on her lap.

"good girl," she purrs. she runs her calloused hands from the tops of your breasts down your sides and on the band of your shorts. "let's get these off."

she moves you off of her and slowly peels your shorts off, quietly gasping when she notices the pool of arousal in your lacy panties. "shit, i got you this wet from barely touching you?" she coos, cracking a small smile when she sees how embarrassed you are. "so cute." she runs her pointer finger over your clothed slit, earning a small wail out of you. applying pressure little by little, she watches you as you grow sexually frustrated by the second. "what's wrong, bun? you wanted me to touch you, right?"

"i need m-more, please- oh my god," you cry out, throwing your head back when she rubs small circles on your clit. she applies more and more pressure, making you feel your orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach. "ellie," you loudly moan, arching your back. she's watching you, taking in every feature of your face. she takes note of the way your eyes roll back at every circle she makes. the way your hands pinch your nipples, trying to replicate what she was doing to you. watching you get off makes her even wetter. she mumbles,"fuck it," before basically ripping off your panties off.

"what a pretty pussy," she says, voice barely above a whisper. you can't tell if she's talking to you or to herself, but she studies you; the puffy lips, how it's glistening with slick, how you leak onto the couch- everything. she runs her middle finger along your aching hole, gathering slick on it, then slowly inserts it. you gasp, gummy walls fluttering around the foreign item. she slowly moves in and out, in and out- lewd squelching sounds fill the room. "pleasepleaseplease," you babble, becoming breathless from arousal. "what, baby?" ellie comes up, planting small kisses on your collarbone. with no warning, she adds her ring finger, stretching your entrance and making you weep in her ear.

"els- m'gonna c-cum-" you sob, holding onto her shoulders. she picks up speed, watching you lose your mind. "yeah?" she murmurs, now adding her thumb to rub your bud. "cum on my fingers, princess."

you convulse around her fingers, walls contracting and expanding. your orgasm is blinding- it causes your legs to shake out of control, you loudly moan her name, holding onto her shoulders. she talks you through it; lots of "i know baby, i know"s and "I'm here, angel"'s. once your done, she removes her fingers. "open up," she says, shoving her cum-covered fingers into your mouth. you automatically suck on them, looking into her emerald eyes with innocence. "good girl."

"uhm.. t-thank you, els," you start, moving your hand over her clothed cunt. "let me touch you."

she flashed a small smile before saying, "i'm okay, baby. get some rest." before you could protest, she got up and planted a kiss on your forehead. "let's get you to bed, princess."

PART 2

[genericpuff]

hi, i know the episode came out weeks ago, but i wanted to talk about ep 277 and your essay on it. i thought it was very well thought out and had brought up lots of concerns abt apollo's other victims and the harm persephone caused to others that i just. hadn't really thought about myself because honestly this webcomic is a BLUR to me LOL. thank you for writing these insights and putting them online for others to read ! i think you manage to keep a respectful distance to rachel [1/]

Yeah, regarding how the SA was handled...

I think Rachel did exactly as well as anyone might have expected someone like her to write a plotline like that.

Honestly if Rachel really did want to do the arrow thing, I think it would have worked WAY better if she had used the arrow of hate. First of all, because it had already been established back in S2 when it was shot at him by Psyche, but ALSO because making it an arrow of love confirmed that Eros literally did what Apollo asked despite the fact that he's Persephone's best friend and should have been more suspicious of what he was going to use it for. Why not just do a bait & switch where Apollo is under the impression that it's an arrow of love but Persephone trusts in her friend and pieces it together that it's probably an arrow of hate? It would also payoff the whole "news crew being nearby" thing (as well as all the other gods that just randomly showed up) because uh oh now they all see his true nature and he can't hide behind his lies anymore!

After all, as I mentioned in my previous post about this (the one I believe you're referring to) it's not like there wasn't already foreshadowing that Apollo was going to fall on his own sword the way of Mr Waternoose from Monster's Inc, he was already showing signs of cracking under the guilt that he was feeling towards how he treated Persephone/Eris/Hermes/etc. so why did it have to be Persephone taking a massive risk by sticking him with an arrow of love that still doesn't fully explain why he would even suddenly be a changed man? Loads of people like Apollo think they're in love / define their infatuation as love so I don't see how an arrow of love would suddenly make him empathetic to her pain. Especially when, again, he still begs her not to make him confess, so the guilt he's feeling is still completely empty and unmotivated.

I will leave this with one final thing that I saw the other day that very much reminded me of the Apollo SA plotline and I think it rings very true for the misdirected conclusion of the plot itself:

One of the biggest issues of the Apollo SA plotline, at least in my opinion, is that it never really gets to the root of why people like Apollo exist. There absolutely were strong foundations for this - he's the son of a guy who's known for being a serial cheater, he's popular and egotistical and is used to women wanting him, etc. - but all of those foundations kind of fell to the wayside in favor of turning Apollo into just another boogeyman, especially to lift Hades up as a "good man" by comparison (when Hades himself also falls on this spectrum). But many people like Apollo aren't just random guys in an alleyway or conspiring with some "higher power" that's manipulating them, they're men who fundamentally do not understand consent and assault on the varying spectrums in which it exists from "SA just exists, oh well" passiveness to "I'm an actual monster who gets pleasure out of victimizing women" aggressiveness. I think there's a lot to discuss about how people like Apollo exist WITHOUT sympathizing with them, but LO manages to do neither - not only does it give us uncomfortable and unnecessary looks into the rapist's POV more than we get the victims, but it does it in a way that doesn't actually address the issue of how people like Apollo come to be, it's just "Apollo is the big evil boogeyman who raped Persephone". Not only does it not actually put enough focus on the victims, but it reduces the societal and cultural complexities of where Apollo's brand of egotistical entitlement comes from to just "some guys just be evil like that". Guys like Apollo don't just come out of the womb like that, they're often shaped into what they are by a society that both excuses them for awful behavior towards girls ("Boys will be boys!") and enables - if not outright encourages - them to objectify women as trophies that they're entitled to. Even the seemingly innocent and sentimental practice of "giving away a bride" at a wedding is rooted in these patriarchal systems, with the belief that a woman first "belongs" to her father before being "given to" her husband.

It's the part of feminism that often gets overlooked - it's not just about uplifting female voices and helping survivors speak up about and heal from SA, it's also about deconstructing and challenging the patriarchal systems that lead to SA victims being created in the first place. Sure, Apollo got sentenced to building temples in the Mortal Realm, but what is that actually doing to address the bigger topic of how men like him come to exist in the first place? Especially when it was also treated as a good thing for TGOEM to be disbanded, instead of, idk... reworking it into a women's support group for survivors like Persephone?

IDK, it's a very complicated subject that you can approach from a million different angles, I don't think that my criticizing it should outweigh the opinions of those who were satisfied with the punishment that was given to Apollo (my saying the SA plotline sucked doesn't mean you're not allowed to find your own validation in it) but I do think that, at best, Rachel ended the SA plotline the only way she could because she herself is just not equipped to tackle such broad subjects that require a lot more education, experience, and nuance than what she's capable of writing. There are definitely 1298423108 better ways that plotline could have been resolved, but not with Rachel Smythe at the helm.

And that's my many cents on that.

[rs-hawk]

ok. Here’s a screwball idea. I don’t care if you don’t do it or even ask, but it’s here.

This thing is a Venus figurine. Many people tie them to being symbols of fertility due to their exaggerated, chubby proportions, and a lack of a face (kinda looks like they’re wearing vases). Because these things were made like in the Upper Palaeolithic era, and since society was a lot different back then (clearly), many people speculate that they could represent healthy or fertile women, goddesses, or simply self-portraits by their own makers.

from the way I see it, a Venus figurine represents a healthy woman very much capable of loving and having kids regardless of her appearance (lack of facial features), so the idea is simplified to this:

Fucking a life-sized Venus figurine who only wants to love, and be loved.

and now it’s done. This was most likely a fat waste of my time.

Friendly reminder that I'm an Anthropology major. When I tell you I fucking love Venus- Lord. I'm basically vibrating rn. I can't wait to drop nerd shit in this post. More asks like this I'm BEGGING. Prehistoric is my second area of interest! Pre-Colombian Americas is my main. I will go feral every time I get an ask like this. I’m not a fan of the almost self deprecating way you asked it, but I like it so-

Come to Life Venus of Willendorf x College Student Cis Male! Reader

"You know, some say that instead of a fertility Goddess, this is just a self portrait of some random woman. Like, look at her hips. That's how they'd look if she was looking down at herself while carving, you know?" you gushed, marveling at the small statue as you and your friend crowded around it. The velvet ropes stopped you from getting too close, but the statue was almost magnetic.

“Imagine being this chick and knowing dudes for centuries have used you to jerk off,” your friend snickered, side eyeing you.

"Come on dude. Do you really have to talk about her like that?" you scoffed, hating the idea of anyone else using her to get off. There was an aching in your cock that you couldn’t explain. Admittedly, you felt a little embarrassed about it. It was just a statue, but there was something about it.

“ ‘Her’?” he repeated, grinning teasingly at you. “So sorry I insulted her. Is she going to be upset with me?”

Rolling your eyes, you drew them away from the statue. “Whatever. Let’s go check the rest of the museum. I’m sure there’s plenty of other things from the Paleo that we missed.”

“You’re not going to write your essay about your wife?” your friend gasped, putting his hand to his chest with mock shock. “She’s going to be so hurt!”

Rolling your eyes again, you waved him on, though you did spare another glance at the statue. After the museum trip, you found yourself coming back to the museum again. And again. And again. And again. You were there nearly every day. When no one was around, you started praying to the small statue, whispering wants to her. How you wished you could have held her. How often you thought of her. Sure, it still made you feel a bit silly with how often your cock ached when you thought of her, but who would a statue tell?

The next morning, you woke up early. Much earlier than usual. Despite that, you couldn’t fall back asleep, so you began your morning routine. When you made your way to the living room to head to the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks. Sitting on your couch was… Venus?

“What?” you frowned, thinking maybe you were still asleep. This had to be a dream.

Her head turned, Her braids moving just enough for you to see a glimpse of facial features, but they seemed scattered. Not quite right. Then they were gone completely. You stood frozen. Rooted to where you stood.

“I came to pay a visit to my most dedicated worshipper,” She said in a voice that sounded the way a first kiss felt.

The way She spoke, you were certain she was smiling, if She could. She gestured for you to come sit beside her, which you did. Your head was spinning. Was this even real? You couldn’t help it when your gaze roamed Her bare body. Everything about Her was so perfect that you felt like touching Her would be like defiling a holy place.

As a thousand thoughts ran through your mind, She cut them all off by placing one hand on your thigh, the other tilting your chin so you had to look down at Her chest. You swallowed hard, your cock already aching. How would She feel wrapped around you?

The two of you didn’t speak for several moments. You wanted so badly to touch Her, but you still struggled with the idea. She, however, seemed to have no such reservations. She pulled down your pajama pants, running Her firm palm over the bulge in your boxers. A low groan escaped your lips. That was the end of your hesitation.

You stood up, kicking the pants off from around your ankles, quickly taking off your boxers as well. She chuckled slightly, though She seemed intrigued when you got on your knees in front of Her, lightly pushing Her plush thighs apart. You worshipped Her cunt just as well as She knew you would.

Your tongue lapped at Her, Her thick thighs and the overlap of her tummy nearly suffocating you. The coolness of Her core made you almost desperate to make Her cum and taste it on your tongue. She tasted like saltwater and copper, and all but Her majestic cunt and thighs seemed to still be primarily stone. All you wanted was to make Her happy. All you wanted was to continue to worship Her.

She moaned as you slid a finger into Her dripping pussy, moving your mouth to dutifully suck on Her clit. The metal decorations on Her braids clinked together when She threw Her head back, letting you see the curve of Her throat. A Goddess’ blessing. Or maybe the sounds were of the metal decorations hitting against the stone like braids themselves. Your other hand snaked between your legs, pumping your aching cock in time with how you were fingering Her. It only took a few minutes for Her to cum on your tongue, much to your satisfaction.

“What a skillful worshipper I have,” She nearly purred, pulling you up by placing Her hand under your chin.

She laid on Her back, spreading Her legs for you. In seconds, you sank into Her. Your thrusts were not rhythmic, but She didn’t seem to care, moaning and arching Her hips up to meet you. Your mouth found one of Her large nipples, taking it into your mouth as you softly groped Her other breast, your stomach and chest pressed against Hers. The softness and squish of Her stomach making it easier for you to adjust as you slammed into Her. It surprised you as Her limbs and head seemed to be solid stone. Maybe She could control it at will, but you didn’t have much time to ponder it. Not with how She was pulsing around you.

When you finally came, you didn’t even try to pull out. Why would a Goddess of fertility want you to? The two of you were panting together as your seed spilt deep inside of Her.

“I think I’m going to stay with you,” She whispered in your ear, the coolness of the metal loops sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please do,” was all you could get out, your mind back to reeling.

Like this story? Support me on Kofi ☕️ ❤️

[akicult]

contains ; domesticity. bf!suguru. suggestive themes. modern / college au. geto wants you to be his housewife basically. just a short drabble. mostly fluff.

just thinking about college bf!suguru that didn’t realize he was a domestic person until he met you.

he’s still young, only in his third year at university and he’s still deciding on what his near future will look like. he’s had his fair share of girlfriends, and little hookups, and to be quite frank—he didn’t think he was done either.

how was he supposed to know the first night he met you, bent over his backseat, was about to be the start of the most serious relationship he’d ever have.

that night started the first of many, slowly realizing he was only asking to hookup just because he wanted to see you. how he’d send a pickup text, with a frown on his cheeks because he thought you were only in it for that reason.

and when he finally swallowed his stubbornness, he was met with the most amazing two years of his life, stuck with you by his side.

college bf!suguru who, until he met you, hardly even dreamt about a future where the love of his life would carry his child in her arms, kissing his cheek and brewing a cup of coffee for the two of them to share in the morning.

he didn’t even care to imagine what that future would be like, what the woman would look like. it didn’t feel achievable, or even desirable until he fell in love with you.

and it was a random realization, but looking back on it—it was building. slowly.

weeks and weeks spent of you just pampering him, praising him, for even the most average things. like, getting an amazing score on an exam, and all you had to do was say, “aw! good job, baby!” before he was putty in your fingertips.

his room is all messy, deep dark circles under his eyes. it was procrastination’s fault—his fingers hurt from typing on his computer all day thanks to waiting until hours before a huge essay was due.

you offered to leave his apartment, to give him the concentration he needs to get it finished, but he was ushering a “no, no stay,” because he honestly didn’t want you to leave. so you stayed, situating yourself in the other room, occasionally popping in to check up on him—and eventually lay on his bed after he insists you to.

it’s only when he finally finishes—8 hours later and it’s already nighttime. his shoulders are slouched, his back is stiff and he’s walking out of his room with his closed computer weighing by his side.

and you’re still there.

not only are you still there, but you’re washing his dishes.

hair clipped back, sweatshirt engulfing your body and sweats tightly tied around your waist. you’re humming along to some music that plays over a speaker—quiet but loud enough to know what song is playing.

you look so utterly homey.

so…domestic.

like you’ve settled into your personal home after a long day at work, just blissfully scrubbing away on glossy white dishes that were previously eaten on. your clothes acknowledge that you’re comfortable, uncaring of what he sees you in.

although it’s not just the fact that you’re dressed like that—it’s the fact that you’re cleaning his things.

cleaning a mess you didn’t even make, just out of the kindness in your heart that’s making geto’s throat close and his palms sweaty. he’s in absolute awe that he doesn’t realize you’ve noticed his presence until you’re turning to face him.

“oh! did you finish?” you ask, turning the water off and rushing towards him.

he’s blinking, nodding slowly. “yeah—just submitted it.”

“yay! ‘m so proud of you!” you grin, lacing your fingers behind the back of his neck and pulling him in for a chaste kiss like you always do—but it feels so much different this time.

like you’re congratulating him on a big promotion, tugging on his work tie and kissing him until he’s forgetting his own name.

he feels like his ring finger is so cold, and there’s a missing heavy weight that’s never even been there in the first place.

like he’s an idiot for not tying you down on the spot—wrapping vows and vows around the two of you until you’re barely mobile.

and he wants to be your doting husband for the rest of his life. he wants to walk through his front door every evening with an awaiting kiss to his cheek, and a home-cooked meal fresh in his senses.

he wants to go to sleep with you in his arms every night, mumbling sweet ‘i love you’’s after flickering off the bedside lamp.

and maybe, just maybe one day, he wants to hear the gentle pitter patter of two little feet charging down the hallway.

this is accidentally freud coded (emphasis on accidentally)