#let’s look at the literature for a hot sec

[itostea]

better than me?

Gojo comes home to find you fangirling over a book character named Aaron Warner

warnings: uni! au, reader is called pretty girl, fluff, idiots in love, idk what this even is

Unread messages. One Five missed calls. No good morning or good night texts.

As of late, Satoru thinks you’ve been distant towards him–ghosting him while he was suffering on a trip his parents forced him to go to. It gets to the point where he thinks he did something to upset you and before he can drive himself mad with far-fetched possibilities, he thinks he should check up on you.

“Honey I’m back!” He bellows out, discarding his shoes to the side of his apartment that you practically live in now. His brows furrow at the lack of response, a bit disappointed at the fact that you could’ve been out. 

It’s only when he catches a whiff of your shampoo and perfume that he allows himself to grin. His place was already overtaken by your presence: the scent of vanilla, the sweaters you leave neatly folded on the couch whenever it got too hot, the extra toothbrush in his bathroom. He missed you. 

He rushes to the living room, his entrance dramatic as his words. “There you are! Why weren’t you there to greet me at the door? Do you not love me anymore?”

“Oh ‘Toru,” You mumbled absentmindedly and it only took him a while to catch sight of the book in your hands–considering the fact his eyes landed on your (his) hoodie you wore. “You’re back. How was your trip?” 

He frowns, his lips parting to release a sigh. “That’s it?”

His heart does something funny when you finally look up at him, tilting your head in genuine confusion. “Hm?”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Wait one sec let me finish this chapter first, Satoru.”

It’s ‘Toru, 'he wants to say but settles on walking to where you sit, his eyes landing on the stack of books on the table–most of which seem to be of the romance genre. There’s a colorful display of sticky tabs decorating the pages of the book and a pen you keep close to you. He leans down to squat, his fingers playing with the book tabs–his mind wandering to the time you mentioned reading to him. “I thought you were reading literature. Like Shakespeare or I don’t know! Not sappy books about love.”

“Sappy books about love is literature. And who reads Shakespeare for fun?”

“Like I would know,” he mutters, standing up to walk behind the couch where he can get a peek of the pages–an offended laugh escaping his lips the moment he sees what scene you were reading so seriously. He easily steals the book out of your hands, ignoring your protests. “So Aaron Warner huh?”

“I was reading that!”

“Baby I can’t believe you were ignoring my messages for this,” he clicks his tongue. “This is worse than catching you make out with another man.”

“Okay that’s a bit of a stretch and besides, you go on trips all the time. Also, who would I even make out with?”

“Aaron Warner!”

You roll your eyes. “Satoru, he’s literally words on paper.”

He narrows his eyes at you and for a moment, you think he’s going to stop. Yet, he continues to observe the stack of books on the table all over again. “So that’s what my money goes towards? Books about other men–”

“Hey! I bought these books with my own money!”

“Oh,” he huffs, suddenly looking insulted. “So you don’t spend my money?”

Your lips release an annoyed groan and you roll your eyes for the nth time–wondering how his mood was all over the place. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Why do you need to read about Aaron Warner when you have me?” He says, climbing over the couch to sit next to you. You don’t object when he easily props you on his lap and discards the book to the side–his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Your heart clenches at the feeling of his hands gripping your hips as if it were second nature to him–how he looked at you like he had the world on his lap. 

You clear your throat, not able to resist the urge to tease him. “You know. I wish I had a strong, handsome man holding me right now.”

“What? Like Aaron Warner?”

“That’d be great actually–” Your words die on your lips as he begins his assault of kisses on your face–peppering them along your jaw and neck. Gojo can’t help but smile against your neck at the sound of your surprised laughter, his head coming up so he can flash you a boyish grin. 

“Still think he’s better than me sweetheart?”

“You’re jealous of literal words on paper!” You try to retort, your lips a bit swollen and your hair fairly all over the place. He can’t help but press another wet kiss to your cheek, laughing at your sound of disgust.

“So what if I’m jealous? My girl’s not paying attention to me squealing over–”

“I was not squealing–!”

“--Squealing over a book character,” he finishes, taking his hands off your hips to cross them.

You frown, heaving a sigh at the sight of him–a bit affected by the loss of warmth his hands provided. You open your arms, looking at him expectedly. “Fine. I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your messages or calls while you were on your trip, in your billion dollar vacation house by the way.”

He only huffs at your sarcasm but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch in amusement. “And?”

“And,” you roll your eyes again. “I’m sorry I said Aaron Warner was better than you. So you can please just hold me again?”

Your boyfriend watches you carefully, pretending to sulk at the sight of your teasing smile. You’re cold to the touch–your hands and feet always contrasting the warmth of his own. You still smell like yourself but he likes how he can catch a whiff of the body wash he uses on you. I miss you, is what his hug says. 

His arms easily flip you on your back as he presses his weight over you, his grin wide and lovesick. “You know what? I think I might read the book myself to see what’s so special about this Aaron guy.”

You laugh. “Are you being for real?”

“For real, real, pretty girl.”

Bonus:

It’s been a week since Satoru’s returned from his trip and you’re starting to think he likes the books a bit too much. And you’re still convinced he’s not over your petty argument about Aaron Warner–seeing as he rushes to you on a peaceful evening. 

“You wanna know something sweetheart?”

“What is it now ‘Toru,” you groan, having just woken up from your nap. 

“Aaron Warner’s only 5’9.”

“What about it?”

“I’m 6’3.”

“...” 

“...”

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“Add that onto the list “Why Toru is better than Aaron Warner.”

[waratah-moon]

could you do eddie x nerdy!reader with fluff #10 for your birthday drabble-a-thon?

(also happy birthday !!)

10. "You're adorable when you ramble." Thank youuuuu.... awww nerdy!reader is adorable... This really tested my knowledge of punnett squares. 🎂 other bday drabbles 🎂 masterlist / send me a message

"So if the mother has blue eyes and the father has brown eyes, what colour eyes would the child have?"

"Uh," Eddie sucked on the end of his pencil, bouncing his knee beneath the table. "Blue?"

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"

"I've been listening, I'm just not really hearing what you're saying."

"Okay," you sighed, flipping to a new page in your note book and drawing up a table. "So blue eyes are a recessive gene, right? So we'll write that as a lower case b." You wrote a lower case b above each of the top two squares. "That makes brown eyes..." you drifted off, waiting for him to finish your sentence for you.

He scrunched his nose in concentration. "Dominant?"

"Yes!" You cheered, writing a capital B on the left side of the top square. "Let's just say the father also carries the blue eye gene." You wrote a lowercase b on the left side of the bottom square. "So let's put them together. What do we write in the first square?"

"Brown and blue?" Eddie asked.

"Yep, and what about the next square?"

"The same, right? And then the bottom squares are all blue so it's a fifty-fifty chance the kid has blue or brown eyes!"

"Yes, Eddie! You got it," you held out your hand for a hi-five which he eagerly returned.

"Thank you. For helping me. I know I'm a shitty student-"

"You can be a good student when you want to be."

"You're just a really good teacher." He leant back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. "Did you end up getting into the college you wanted?"

You sighed. College was a sore spot for you, and it was all due to the fact that your parents expectations were sky high. "I got into the college my parents wanted." That had been their dream for you since day one; get your undergraduate degree in biology from MIT and then med school at Duke. They wanted a doctor more than they wanted a daughter.

"You're not excited?" Eddie thought anyone who got into college would be excited, but your flat expression told a different story. "What do you want?"

No one had asked you that. It was never about what you wanted, it was just expected that you would do what your parents told you to do. You didn't even have to think about it before the words came out of your mouth. "I want to study literature."

"Books?" Eddie raised his eyebrows, nodding.

"Not just books. Authors. I want to learn why they wrote what they wrote. And not just the American literature like Steinbeck or Twain that we do in school, but Tolstoy and Dumas. And feminist perspectives like Shelley and Woolf too-" you stopped because he was staring at you. "What?"

"Nothing," he grinned. "It's just you're adorable when you ramble."

Your cheeks suddenly felt hot and the tips of your ears burned. He'd said you were adorable, and he'd said it so casually. You chanced a glance up at him, he was still staring at you, his bottom lip was between his teeth.

You couldn't think of a response, so you looked down quickly and went back to the punnet squares. "That was a monohybrid cross, but if we want to look at a dihybrid cross-"

"Hang on a sec," Eddie put his hand on your notebook to get your attention. "I never told you this, but I actually asked Mr. Loch if you could tutor me. I've uh, kind of had this teensy crush on you for a while."

"You have a crush on me?" Your eyes widened. You were used to being the quiet girl at the front of the class that no one paid attention to. People weren't suppose to have crushes on you... right?

"Well yeah. And it's not teensy, it's more of this big distracting crush thats making it impossible to focus on anything."

"Oh," you felt the blush creep back and your stomach had started doing flips. You'd never thought of Eddie that way, but then again you'd never really spoken to Eddie before you'd started tutoring him last month. He was nice, and handsome, and the way he furrowed his brows when he was concentrating was insanely cute. Okay, maybe you had thought about Eddie that way...

"I know after the test next week you won't need to tutor me anymore, but maybe we could still hang out?"

You nodded a little quicker than you had anticipated. "I mean, we've had a pretty good study session tonight, maybe we could cut it short and get dinner?"

Eddie grinned. "As in a date?"

You nodded, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Yeah, as a date."

"Okay, I just have one quick biology question for you before we go," Eddie covered your hand with his, his thumb brushing over your wrist. "What colour eyes would our kids have?"

[sungbeam]

Me when serpent and dove: 👁️👄👁️⁉️🫣😱🫵😐💔🤯⁉️🤡

Like man just because you’re going through Jichang brain rot doesn’t mean that you have to give it to me too 👹/j

AND THANK YOU I KNEW YOU’D UNDERSTAND THE SUNSET LINE LIKE THERE WAS A REASON I HIGHLIGHTED IT 😭 but Ofc I’m insecure so I always downplay what I like so that no one else can make fun of it cause I already made fun of it myself #copingmechanisms #earlybirdgetstheworm 🥲 I’m glad you get it like I do tho 😔🫶

It’s so sad that you haven’t read for fun in a while tho 😭 BUT YOU’RE JUST LIKE ME FR CAUSE IDK THE QUALITY OF PRINTED LITERATURE THESE DAYS IS JUST BAD 😩 Like FR a double whammie smh you got the same boring plot and the same boring covers 😔💔 IT’S LIKE- WHY WOULD I PAY $20+ FOR A BOOK THAT I PROBABLY READ 3 TIMES BEFORE JUST WITH DIFFERENT NOUNS IF I COULD READ A BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN ONESHOT BY SUNGBEAM HERSELF?? I hereby declare this tomfoolery yessir

AND YOU HAVENT WATCHED MIRROR MIRROR WITH THE STUNNING LILY COLLINS AKA MY FAV NEPOBABY??? I was actually gonna send the link for the opening scene but no one cared to post the opening scene on YouTube but they bothered to post the FULL MF MOVIE 💀💀💀

I would send the link but it seems that the paste thing timed out and I don’t want to leave the Tumblr app (rip mobile) again cause it will refresh everything (yes this is my second time writing this) so just look up mirror mirror opening scene on YouTube 😭

AND THANK YOU POOKIE I’M GLAD MY IDEAS WERE GOOD ACTUALLY LMAO 🤭 and nooo I haven’t watched rescuers even tho it does ring a bell 🤔

And ok??? Damn I was just making sure I had all bases covered just in case you were being a perv like smh idk your life 🙄☝️/jkjk SJFJEJR

Oh and I haven’t watched secret invasion but I kinda just thought abt it cause yk superheroes/marvel LMAO but have you watched ‘the boys’ on Amazon prime? It was actually pretty interesting (even tho TW it’s way more explicit in the blood, death, and sexual aspects and it did take a hot sec for me to get used to it 💀) but I actually would recommend it just be weary of those warnings 🫡 also you might’ve even seen a reaction vid from it since it got pretty popular on tiktok/twt 😭

ALSO NEW ALBUM DROPPING THE 7TH OF AUGUST BUT NOT A SINGLE PEEP OR SCHEDULER FROM IST LIKE GIRL WTF HOW RUSHED IS THIS CB GONNA BE ESP IF ITS A FULL ALBUM LIKE- 🧍‍♀️

Also also hopefully this isn’t overstepping or anything but I wanted to let you know that you’re not alone and I really related to your ‘scroll past this’ post :( it’s kind of hard not feeling that way and I do kind of get impostor syndrome too just cause I feel like I can never accomplish anything and I can never make it to people’s expectations of me but honestly I think I just need to be kinder to myself? And you should too! Something I do to remember that I have to be kinder to myself is by imagining my inner monologue being directed to the younger version of myself. I went through a lot when I was a kid and I just know that if I say what I say to myself/about myself to my younger self then it would completely destroy me. And if it would’ve destroyed me then, why wouldn’t it destroy me now? And it’s cause it does. It chips at me, albeit slowly. And then I’ll just absolutely break down one day. But we’re on this earth too short to be hurting and anxious and insecure all the time. When you feel overwhelmed it’s good to just… back away for a bit. Maybe cook, get some ice cream, take a walk in the park, just sit outside and breathe. Ground yourself and remind yourself that although you’re not perfect, no one is. You can always be a happier version of yourself though so just do what feels right at the moment and live in the moment :) I don’t want to downplay your pain at all but I really hope that I could provide at least a smidge of comfort since that’s what I do when I’m really feeling down (esp existential rip) :,)

- If you have breath you have purpose. You are an instrument, a testament, that these minutes can be survived. (Raquel Franco)

Love, 🌷 anon

LISTEN. serpent and dove has been hiding in my drafts folder since JUNE I HAVE BEEN EXERCISING A LOT OF SELF CONTROL OKAY :l

NO CUZ i do that too 😭😭😭 #copingmechanism frfr cuz if i already clown it then ur clownery will have no effect skfnkenff

TEARS ! anyways,, , ahem yes i do appreciate that sunset line, it makes me feel something for once so thank u ma'am 😔 WAIT I JUST SAW THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM SKDNSKDM AHAHHAHAHA when the worm = dignity 💔💔💔

HELPPP DONT SAY THAT UR GONNA MAKE ME SEVERELY DELULU ABT MY WRITING ABILITIES 🤡🤡🤡 no but i FEEL u, like i find books that im intrigued by, but a lot of them are just copy paste of each other and they never intrigue me and r ALWAYS in some form WEIRD or PROBLEMATIC 😭😭 like why would i pay money for ur copy paste covers when i can find that for free on wattpad /hj tho there r some books w those kinds of covers that r like that lol emily henry i hear is pretty good and i can't wait to finally read her shit 😔 once i get my shit together skdnkenf

blr is going down hill and FR WHY DO THEY RESET FOR ASKS LIKE CAN I NOT DRAFT AN ASK IT TAKES COURAGE AND TIME AND CAREFUL CONSIDERATION— lmslmflenf LMAO 😭😭😭 OKAY I'LL LOOK IT UP LATER 🤡 AHHAHAHA when they said, if we're gonna pirate, we're gonna go all the way !!!

takes one to know one abt the perv life 🤨🤨🤨 ANYWAYS 😁🤸‍♀️

OMG I've seen clips of the boys and it's low-key like 😭😭😭 scary skfnkejfk i mean like, the main blonde hero dude is TERRIFYING and i mean that in the best possible way. i watched a video essay on how to make a terrifying villain, and they used the boys as an example, and i had to look away from some of the parts just cuz it was so violent, and his SMILE IS O_O FRIGHTENING.

GIRL IKIKIK THEY JUST POSTED TEASERS OF THE THREE CONCEPTS !!! ITS CALLED "PHANTASY" AND TBH I THOUGHT OF DANNY PHANTOM 💔💔💔 low-key if kev came back w the blonde hair he could totally pull off danny phantom, i don't make the rules— i think my favorite concept look so far is love letter !! but i think as more is posted i'll def change 💀 we'll see 💀 NO FR IST REALLY PULLING A FASTBALL ON US FOR THIS??? like HELLO?? they're literally supposed to cb in TWO WEEKS AND I NEED TIME TO SCREAM AND YELL AND MENTALLY PREPARE AND FIGURE OUT IF IM GONNA CAVE AND BUY AN ALBUM—

ahh thanks tulip 🥺 i really appreciate u saying all that, and ,, yeah,,, i never really thought abt like if i was speaking to my younger self like that and it really does put things into perspective. i've become the person who i despised yet was desperate to please when i was a kid, and that's ,, awful. it's awful esp since i can't run away from myself like i could those people from my past. im sorry u went thru shit as a kid :( ig we find our own ways to cope and grow and try to move on, and maybe we won't always make it out of the woods immediately. i used to think i had a pretty good view of myself, and then i realized it was all just a cover-up? like it was a mask on top of a mask and it was fake and it was just covering up all the truly damaged parts of me like a bandage over a bullet wound. yeah fsfs! i forced myself to step away that day. i actually went and cleaned my bedroom workspace up w like noise cancelling headphones on and it made me feel so much better. bro fr like,, when do we not feel existential atp, sometimes i feel like im not actually "go w the flow" but "i don't care enough anymore"

— Promise me not to hide yourself when you're in pain, it's unfair that we laughed together but you cried alone. (unknown) ❤️

[jzmn8r]

- British regency era authors circa 1810

might fuck around & appear in a misty moor to bedevil weary travelers idk

[bakatenshii]

Hello, I was wondering if you can help me find more Bnha dark blogs? I been looking and trying my best but have not found much. Maybe I am not looking hard enough but can you please recommend stories and blogs? Hope this not a bothersome. If it is please ignore this and thank you.

heeeeeello! sowwy took me a hot sec to get round to this, wanted to compile a nice n solid list so

@tomurasprincess | masterlist — villain fucker extraordinaire (mostly shigfucker tho), filthy degenerate porn

@ichor-and-symbiosis | masterlist — I would not be the shigfucker I am today sans alison. her writing flows so beautifully and every one of her works has me screaming

@kazooli | masterlist — the queen of filth and dark content, god said let there be light and so light was created, god said let there be dark lewd so kaz was birthed

@blahkugo | masterlist — my own wife, hasn’t actually written bakugo don’t be fooled, writes a lot of shig (for me)

@rat-suki | masterlist — the debil to my angle, her writing gets darker with every fic & that’s called character development

@inkykeiji | masterlist — my baby, I adore her with my whole heart & would fight the sun for her. touya-nii enthusiast

@villain-hotline | masterlist — hades my yan queen, her blog is an abso treat

@unmeiii | masterlist — dee (formerly dee-madwriter) writes the most delicious, vivid smut. all hits no misses

@morgana-ren | masterlist — another blog that shaped me as a shigfucker, has some downright religiously stunning works and just overall incredible writing

@koiibito | masterlist — sawa’s writing’s the perfect mix of poetic and dark, it reads so beautifully I adore her works

@vermiliren | masterlist — ren’s prose and tone and rhythm is simply unmatched. her works read like a horror flick in the best way

@kugutsuu | masterlist — I’m biased and adore lydia bcos she’s got an entire separate shig mlist and that’s just a gift that keeps giving, but dark bnha galore

@cannibalchan | masterlist — belle was another og blog I followed and, just go down her mlist u will be well fed™️

@writingsbymo-mo | masterlist — filthy filthy delicious porn, shig haven <3

@love-toxin | masterlist — one of the best yandere writing blogs I follow, their quality is insane

@hisoknen | masterlist — rafiki is the first ever bnha blog I followed. her writings so sexy and her smut is top tier

@thisisthehardestthing | masterlist — claudia’s writing is pure poetry, dark literature, just art

@whumperooni | masterlist — miss rooni’s writing is unfairly sexy, her prose and style are just *chefs kiss*

feel free to also check out my general blog recs here!

[jiyafm]

 ✿ * · (  megan  suri  ,  cis  female  ,  she / her   )   a  little  birdy  told  me  JIYA  DHAWAN  just  moved  to  sunset  hills  .  have  you  met  them  yet  ? they  look  somewhere  around  TWENTY - ONE ,   if  i  had  to  guess  !  pretty  sure  i  heard  them  driving  down  the  street  playing  TONGUE  TIED  by  GROUPLOVE  ,  they  sounded  a  little  pitchy  but  they  had  the  spirit  !  must  be  their  favorite  or  something  .  hey  …  it  looks  like  they  just  moved  into  MIDNIGHT  PARK  .  have  you  heard  about  what  they  do  for  a  living  ?  someone  told  me  they’re  a  ILLUSTRATION  &  ANIMATION  MAJOR  ,  but  who  knows  if  that’s  even  true  .  guess  we’re  just  gonna  have  to  wait  and  see  .  nervous  ?  maybe  you  should  be  .  sunset  speaks  just  posted  about  them  …  apparently  they're  RESIDENT  ID  #021  ?  between  you  and  me  ,  i  think  that  might  spark  some  things  in  the  community  …  but  what  do  i  know  !  you  guys  might  get  along  just  fine  !

bienvenidos to my intro, cutie patooties! i’m mars (she/they/any) and i can’t wait to plot & write with everyone here! it’s been a very hot sec since i’ve been in a group, but i am for sure already falling in love with all of your characters. without further ado, will you please welcome to the stage... jiya!

BASICS

full name:  jiya  farah  dhawan

gender:  cis  woman

pronouns:  she / her

sexuality:  bisexual

age:  twenty - one

birthday:  march  4th,  2001

zodiac:  pisces  sun,  cancer  moon,  leo  rising

hometown:  sunset  hills,  ca

residence:  midnight  park

major:  illustration  &  animation

tldr;  jiya  is  the  only  child  of  two  s.h.u.  professors  and  has  always  loved  the  school,  but   0% knows  what  she’s  going  to  do  after  she  graduates.  you’ll  never  meet  anyone  with  more  school  spirit  than  her.  she’s  just  stoked  to  be  here,  guys.  continually  doing  double  duty  as  the  friend  group’s  weirdo  and  mom  friend.

AESTHETICS

the roar of good friends when the lights flick on at a surprise party, cherry blossom petals fluttering through the spring breeze, the buzz of getting too excited about something nobody else cares about, a slice of perfect lemon cake paired with a perfect cup of chai, giggles that turn into snorts halfway through, loudly singing a well-loved song around a crowded campfire, first kisses with red noses in gently falling snow

BIOGRAPHY

jiya was born on march 4th (”the only day of the year that’s a complete sentence!”), 2001 at 3pm, gracing dr. tanvi patel and dr. imraan dhawan with their first and only child. both drs. were – and still are – proudly professors at sunset hills university, home of the manta rays. go rays!

growing up under two academics – her mother in agricultural studies specializing in sustainability and her father in world literature with a focus in poetry – was a challenge. a challenge jiya accepted with the same determination with which she lived her entire life.

there were plenty of good things to combat the stress of her parents’ expectations for her academic success. dressing up for their university dinner parties, where they had brilliant conversations unlike anything else she’d ever seen; where everyone begged her to follow her dreams.

at the end of the day, that was the thing she took from her parents and their friends most seriously. they had all achieved so many of their dreams, what could possibly hold jiya back from doing the same? that ambition lit a fire under her that couldn’t be put out.

it didn’t matter what happened. through her first breakups, bad news from her family, hard times at school, she never stopped going going going. art club, soccer, drama, piano lessons, summer camp... if there was something she wanted, she went for it.

despite how much of her life revolved around it (or maybe because of it), going to s.h.u. was the thing jiya worked hardest for. there was no way she was letting anyone think she got in because of her parents (even though she almost certainly did). all she wanted was to be a manta ray.

to absolutely no one’s surprise, jiya was the most enthusiastic freshman s.h.u. had seen in... maybe ever. no matter the sport being played, the play being put on, or the boredom at risk from going, jiya would be there with bells on; literal bells.

she generally lives by the motto “my studies can wait, what’s going on tonight?” it might not be her parents’ favorite philosophy, but she does have the record for most games attended by a single student and they are proud of that achievement. 

now that she’s more than halfway through her degree, people are starting to ask what she has planned for afterward. unrelated, she’s starting to realize she’s going to have to figure out who she wants to be outside of her love of sunset hills. or what she wants to do. pixar, maybe? illustrating children’s books, maybe? animating her own show, maybe? how are people supposed to figure this stuff out?

PERSONALITY

jiya is absolutely the self - appointed spirit master of sunset hills. she shows up to every game (for every sport) she can, completely decked out in face paint, pom-poms, and an outfit sure to inspire any manta ray to feel that good school pride. she may have a love / hate relationship with the person in the school mascot costume for unknown and probably stupid entirely justifiable reasons.

she is maximalist to the core and could not handle minimalism if she was paid to. everything in her room is done up to the nines with endless color, texture, lights, ambient white noise; the whole lot. her dorm looks like a macramé arts and crafts class blew up inside.

one thing jiya doesn’t take well is rejection. the last time she was broken up with, she threw all of the clothes her ex had left at her place out the window and announced it was “the defenestration of sunset hills”. she really is such a sweet girl, but that fear of rejection runs deep.

WANTED

roommate  –  babe is living in midnight park and i would love for her to have a roommate! she is probably the best and worst roommate you’ll ever have. there are baked goods and dumb jokes and themed drinking game movie nights... and 4am dance breaks when she’s procrastinated an important essay and has to finish by 8am.

study buddies  –  speaking of baked goods and essays! jiya definitely organized a study group her freshman year and still brings them muffins every wednesday for their standing study date. and it’s not at all because i love community or legally blonde. nope.

trivia team  –  a classic group of friends who show up to their favorite bar for trivia night every week. are they really just there for the bar snacks, drinks, and company? almost definitely. do they still take things a little too seriously and get overly competitive? ...also almost definitely.

tutoring friends  –  there are a handful of subjects jiya could tutor somebody in and another handle of subjects she could use some tutoring in, so it could go either way! or maybe their strengths and weaknesses line up and they help each other out? somebody’s gotta keep her on track!

high school sweetheart  –  jiya grew up in sunset hills and there’s no doubt in my mind she had a very sweet high school romance. she definitely would’ve been the cheerleader type that (unsurprisingly) showed up to all of their games or band’s practices or academic decathlons.

[ratcandy]

Subcon Forest Analysis

Hi everyone I'm here to spill my aggressive overflowing thoughts on Subcon Forest and what it represents because it's been driving me insane since I finished the Sleepy Subcon time rift. Okay let's go. Obvious spoilers for AHIT ahead so proceed with caution.

This is also very, very long.

Disclaimer/warning: I will be discussing abusive/unhealthy relationships in this analysis. I mean. Vanessa. Come on. Also, there is a section on the nooses, and that delves, of course, into mentions of suicide. It will be sectioned off and easily skipped, but if you'd rather be safe and skip the entire post, that's completely understandable! Please stay safe. <3

Alright. Main point to be had here:

Subcon Forest is a giant extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character.

You all get to now listen to me spout nonsense about metaphors and symbolism because I'm a sucker for analysis and I'm given an opportunity to go ham. So perish.

The Ice

Let's start with the most obvious and most glaring thing in Subcon. The ice. It's everywhere. Not just outside Vanessa's manor, either; no, it's throughout the village, too. Shows up in the well and in random locations sprinkled about. When it comes to literal plot, we know that ice is just what lingers after Vanessa's wintery curse on Subcon. But going deeper and analyzing the meaning behind it?

Well, let's look at this from the perspective I've suggested. Subcon Forest being an extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character. A symbol for Vanessa then litters his mind, enough where it's certainly noticeable at first but blends in more easily once more of Subcon is unlocked to Hat Kid. This is clearly meant to be his lingering trauma, whether or not he wants to acknowledge it. Which he doesn't, as he never mentions it directly in his forest (that I can recall). Her influence plagues him, as to be expected with the traumatic experiences he went through with her. Breaking the ice is something Hat Kid must do in order to fulfill the wishes of the Fire Spirits (another subject I'll get into shortly), which, if self-indulgently playing with the found family idea, could mean that Hat Kid is helping him heal; if indirectly. Even if fulfilling the Fire Spirits' wish to die is... counterproductive, in that measure, which I'm now getting ahead of myself so hold on a sec!!

Vanessa. Ice. Everywhere. Traces of it all over his forest. That's the effects of an abusive relationship! Especially in a worst-case scenario where... yknow! One party in the relationship dies! So of course ice would be everywhere.

In and of itself, ice is a common symbol in literature and other forms of media. In this case, it's presented as an antagonistic force; emphasis is placed upon freezing and the harm that comes with it. The cold is unwelcoming, threatening, merciless. Snow can act as an insulating force, at least, but ice cannot. It can only make things colder.

A slight stretch: Seeing as this game deals a lot with time shenaniganry, I'm not sure if it'd be too out of left field to connect "freezing" with the theme of time. Yknow. Frozen in time. Both parties here, Snatcher and Vanessa, would be in this frozen state. One largely repressing it and never fully moving on, and the other doomed to her isolation ever since the event in question. They never moved past that moment after the Prince and florist's interaction.

The Fire Spirits (& the Portraits)

I'll put a slight warning here for suicidal ideation, if only because... it's the Fire Spirits we're talking about. It's not as grossly in-detail as the noose discussion will be, though, so make of that what you will.

To me, the Fire Spirits are a very interesting case. After all, they're fire. They're a direct contrast to the ice, thus being the only thing we're shown that could potentially melt it. The Fire Spirits, in my opinion, represent hope or a strength to continue. A strength to move on after troubles of the past.

...And that hope wants to die.

The Fire Spirits wish to burn out, to leave this mortal coil and abandon the forest to the cold. They make no effort to melt the ice, they simply dance, blissfully ignorant towards their surroundings. This being a metaphor for Snatcher's own hope for moving on is made all the more obvious by the fact he wants them gone. The first contract is to kill the Fire Spirits, to kill the hope. Perhaps he believes that sort of thing to be fruitless or naïve, so it only clutters his mind or has him foolishly optimistic at points. So, get rid of it. And the hope is happy to oblige.

(That, or their willingness to leave the forest to its own suffering and not aid in the ice's thaw angers him. Besides the whole "bark bark growl I can't get to parts of my forest because of them!!" which... also could represent a naïve hope clouding his judgement, not allowing him to see a bigger picture. But hope can't all be lost if one wants to move forward...)

A little side-tangent now on the portraits! And it's another slight stretch but the idea is in my head and I can't let it go. Portraits are another common symbol, usually being a physical representation of a memory or idea. For our purposes, let's say they're memories. I know in canon they appear to just hold souls captive or something but for now we're just Ignoring That(tm). The Fire Spirits have to burn the portraits to disappear. See where I'm going with this, maybe?

Instead of handling bad memories (or perhaps memories of the past in general) in any healthy manner, Snatcher chooses to forget/repress them, which just allows his hope to progressively die out.

I'm really hoping this is making sense because it makes a lot of sense to me but I might be insane rn

The Fact that this is a Forest

Forest symbolism breakdown! What's a forest usually mean in literature? "Traditionally, the forest has come to represent being lost, exploration and potential danger as well as mystery and 'other worldliness'." Okay. Yeah. Fair enough. That certainly works with the whole aesthetic we've got going on. Wood usually is life, growth and strength. But the trees of subcon are all dead. So what about that? It stands for death, big whoop, very spooky, we know Snatcher's dead and so are the children, yadda yadda wowie wowie. But. :) The trees in Subcon look a lot like trees that were scorched in a forest fire. Don't believe me?

(You could also argue they're just regular marsh/swamp trees bUT SSHHSUUHSH HANG ON HEAR ME OUT LOOK LOOK,)

What I believe to have happened was a controlled fire to rid the forest of the majority of its ice and snow. Likely done by Snatcher. It leaves behind a very desolate, depressing, barren scene... but. What else do dead/burnt trees symbolize? Rebirth. After all, controlled fires happen to make way for new trees to take the place of old ones. Some trees only drop seeds in fires/hot temperatures, so new ones take root and begin anew. Weird. It's almost like... I dunno. Snatcher was given some sorta second chance, given he's not just a corpse in Vanessa's cellar. So were the subconites. Another life given then by Snatcher. All connected I tell ya!!

Generally, aside from that, forests have many connotations. Mystery, isolation, claustrophobia; a place to dwell on regrets, or the past; to worry over one's future; to seek escape from or escape inside of... hmgmrnmm!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Nooses

The t/w is given at the top and another cut-off point will follow the bottom of this, for those that would like to skip. This will delve into talk of suicide and abusive tactics used by abusers. Please don't read if it will upset you or make you feel unsafe!!!

Personally, I cannot stand the nooses, but that's just due to my own triggers. Were there a way to hide those from the game or replace the damned talking ones with anything else. I would take it. In a heartbeat. But I can still appreciate the potential analysis to be had with them. So now i'm gonna talk about it despite how uncomfortable it will make me to do so. yEa

So, what about 'em? There are three types of nooses seen in Subcon. At least that I remember but I didn't really go looking for them. Empty ones, ones containing empty subconites, and the talking ones.

Nooses in general obviously can hint towards suicidal thoughts or behaviors of the characters that interact with them. If saying Subcon is Snatcher's mind, it could suggest that he suffered from some sort of suicidal thoughts in life (or currently, if second death is possible... or if he never truly died... or maybe he's trying to figure that out...which has given me... a separate idea...uh oh). But. And hear me out. Different perspective.

A talking noose. I hate them with a fiery passion that is unmatched. But think of the packed symbolism of a noose that talks. And think more about what it says. "I wouldn't mind being strapped around a cute neck like yours." "Be careful now, I don't want to see you meet a miserable end anywhere, but with me." Oddly, a lot of what the noose says seems almost... endearing? One could argue it's a way of luring someone to put it around their necks, which in and of itself is a whole lot to unpack when it comes to suicidal thoughts beckoning one forward; painting itself as something romantic, almost. But. Here's a wild idea, now. What if the nooses, at least the talking ones, are another symbol for Vanessa?

They're tinted blue, after all. While Vanessa's scheme is more red, one could argue two things: One, ice. Blue. Ice. yeah. Or two, the fact that Snatcher's scheme is more purple. Blue and red... make... purple. So, for all we know, Snatcher's current state was a compound effort between suicidal thoughts and Vanessa's treatment of him. Perhaps he even found a way to put himself out of his misery before freezing/starving to death. (I know he has dialogue that argues against that, but... are we certain Snatcher would be the kind to admit suicide over freezing to death?... I don't think so.)

At any rate, a common threat by those in "control" of an abusive relationship is that of killing themselves should the other person not do as they desire. It's a cruel form of emotional manipulation to get their way, worse off if the other party is an empathetic individual. As a person who has been the empathetic individual in relationships like this... I would know. I've been here, unfortunately So, it's not completely out of the question to say Vanessa could've used some tactic like that, even before the whole... cellar ordeal. Did she? I dunno. I'm tossing ideas around. But if she did, the threats of such would sit around in the Prince's mind easily. Even if she has a reputation of not going through with it. It doesn't matter. That shit sticks with you forever, that scare, the potential of it ever being true, is horrifying and it ruins you. I'm projecting, Squirtle.

Still. A noose cannot hang itself. It has to have a victim.

...yea.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W PASSED -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Misc. Ideas

- The spiders: Aside from the usual things spiders can be chalked up to symbolizing - toxicity, alluring danger, just... general pain - I like the potential wordplay that can happen here. Yknow. A black widow. Say the Prince and Vanessa were married when one died. What would that leave Vanessa? A widow. ...She's red and black, too. Yknow. Like a black widow. HA wordplay is fun isn't it?

- Snatcher's tree: Love this place, love sitting in here. But not the point! The inside of Snatcher's tree is such a harsh juxtaposition to the rest of Subcon that it kinda throws ya off guard. After all, the dark, purples and blues then contrasted with the bright warm colors of the inside. Even the music switches over. The thorns outside aren't present indoors. Ohh yeah this is gonna be on the nose as hell but the Tree(tm) is 100% representing Snatcher's appearance/put-on personality vs. his truer nature. Spooky outside with thorns, foreboding, unwelcoming. Then the more comfortable interior. VULnerable. Have I even mentioned that the tree is HOLLOW I mean COME ON. The sturdiness of that tree? Nonexistent. He's not a sturdy guy at all no matter how he fronts

- Intrusions are unwelcome: Snatcher does not like the fact that Hat Kid sticks around in his forest. His personal space. His mind. In fact he tries desperately to get rid of her after their fight, not wanting her presence in his forest at all. He has no problem providing more contracts later on with the Death Wish thing, and he finds great entertainment in messing around with Hat Kid, so it's not just a weird sudden hatred he has for her; it's the fact that. After she's finished being useful, he no longer wants her around, lest she find some things she shouldn't find. Now he's just uncomfortable with her in his personal boundaries. Could just be a denial that she's helped him heal (breaking ice, stealing from Vanessa, being something interesting for his kids to interact with) or just not really wanting a child to get wrapped up in. All that. Most likely the former. Considering the amount of joke-hints he drops regarding his background during his Death Wish dialogue. I see you funny man, making jokes out of your trauma as a coping mechanism. Punts him

Annnd I think that's all I got, for now! I'll make an update post if I get any more sporadic ideas. If you read this whole thing, thank you!! and also!! Wow that was a lot!! Hell world. Please feel free to elaborate on any of my points or debate with me on em!! I'm always open to other ideas, just be aware that if I disagree I am not shy when it comes to debate hehehe, tho I won't be aggressive to any extent I prommy!!

Alrighty. goes to sleep goodnight

[jisungsplatforms]

[Chapter IV: You F*cking Minx!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, masterbation (m&f) (only implied this chapter), discussion of kinks, good old nudes & teasing Jisung ;)

Chapter Word Count: 2.8k (lol minus the emojis cause APPARENTLY, they count on docs)

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine @cartierbin @solistired @rainbowmagicpixecorn @http-hyxnjxn (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

You were starting to think that touching yourself every night was rather unhealthy...

It’s been over a week since you and Jisung met—a week since the both of you started your unspoken arrangement. Breathing heavily, you laid limply on your untidy bed, the only source of light available was the moon’s rays peeking through your curtains. The lower half of your body was completely rid of any clothing; the only thing covering your skin were splotches of your essence. Your phone then lit up with a notification from ‘Hannie Bear’.

1 new message(s) from Hannie Bear 🍯🧸

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: u okay baby? do u wanna sleep now?

Using your unsoiled hand, you grabbed your phone and typed as best as you could.

Me: Nah, I still have a little bit of energy left in me

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: really? cool lol

let’s chat for a bit

Me: Sure. Just hold on for a sec

You sat up and wiped your hand on the towel laid under you. Swinging one of your legs off the bed, you used your toes to pick up your garments from the floor, and quickly put them on. Two new notifications from Jisung appeared on your screen. You read his messages as you threw your dirted towel onto the floor.

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: aight.

actually you know what? just call me please!

You laid back down and tapped on his icon, which now consisted of a selfie of himself from when he ‘needed to use’ your phone a few days ago, at the top of your screen to switch to the call screen. Your phone rang several times before Jisung answered. Through the phone, you could hear the faint sound of rustling and a groan.

“Hey,” he greeted with a raspy voice. You instinctively smiled when you heard him.

“Hey.”

Jisung cleared his throat before speaking. “So I was wondering, since— ah wait. Sorry, my throat’s kinda...”

“No, go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “You should get some water too! You know, cause— yeah. After all that.”

You laughed, heart warming at his consideration. “Yeah. Thanks!” Bringing your phone with you, you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. You set the call to speaker mode before putting your phone down to drink. Hearing the hilarious way Jisung took big gulps of water almost made you choke on your water.

He let out an over-exaggerated ‘ha!’ and said with a funny voice, “Refreshing!” Hearing your snort made Jisung smile. “Okay, so now that we’re both hydrated, I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking.” You hummed to acknowledge him. “So, you know how we’ve been doing this for almost two weeks now, right?”

“Yeah…?” You picked up your phone to go back to your room.

“Okay. Well, we never really talked about, you know, things that we like.”

“Things that we like?”

“Yeah! You know what I mean?”

‘Huh?’ You thought about it for a few seconds before realizing what he was talking about. “Ohh. Do you mean our kinks?”

“There! That.”

You scoffed playfully. “I knew this conversation was bound to happen.”

“Well, then spill, girl!” Jisung said flamboyantly. “Don’t keep me waiting!”

You giggled. “Weirdo,” you whispered, softly grunting when you plopped onto your bed. “Where do you want me to start?”

“I don’t know. I guess just tell me like, what role you like playing in bed, or if you don’t even use roles at all.”

“Well, we’ve masterbated together long enough for you to know that I don’t mind either; sex is sex and it should be enjoyable, whether or not there are sub/dom roles...but I do like being submissive.”

“Oh, right. Nice,” he snickered, “Okay, now what? Vanilla or Kinky?”

“Kinky, all that way.” Jisung wanted to laugh at how fast that answer came out. “Of course, there’s nothing wrong vanilla sex, in fact, it’s very much appreciated in this household.”

“Ahh. Someone of culture. I respect that.” The both of you chuckled. “So, what are some things you want to be done to you?”

“Like, receiving?” Jisung hummed in confirmation. “I guess I like being marked? And being praised and using pet names, but of course, who doesn’t?”

“I feel you, I feel you,” he nodded on the other side of the phone. “I like that too.”

“I also like being tied up.”

Jisung sat up, wide eyed. “Rope-bunny?!”

You guffawed, hearing him so shocked like that. “What? Surprising? Remember, no kink shaming!”

“No no! It’s not like that it’s just-” he sighed through puffed cheeks, “wow, that’s fucking hot.”

“Thanks,” you giggled. “But that’s only the beginning.”

“Shit, there’s more? Holy fuck— please tell me.”

“Overstimulation & edging, I think that’s fucking hot too.” You could hear Jisung’s breath hitch on the phone, making you smirk. “I also really like choking and being able to see myself getting fucked; I think there’s a name for it, but I forgot.”

Not hearing his reply, you snorted before continuing. “And I have the biggest breeding kink ever. You know what I say: the messier the sex, the better.” You stopped when you heard Jisung take a deep breath.

“Whoa, Y/n. I-” he signed. “Let me calm down before I pop another boner ‘cause of you.”

You felt a surge of pride run through you. “What? Too much?”

“Oh, fuck no. Just insanely hot.”

You laughed, adjusting yourself to lay on your stomach. “Too bad. There was still a lot more I wanted to say,” you grinned. “You should tell me what you like then, baby. I need to know how I could please you too.”

“Hmm,” he thought to himself for a while. “So you already know that I like filthy, kinky sex too and that I usually take up the dom role but if I have to be honest. I’ve always wanted to try subbing.”

“Really?” you smiled evilly. ‘How interesting’

“Yup. I mean, I like being babied, so I think I’d really like it.”

“Oh? Would you like to try it sometime, baby boy?”

The line went dead silent for a while, filling you with worry. All of a sudden, when you were about to ask Jisung if he was okay, he whimpered. “Please?” he muttered, and you swore you could already see him pouting. Now it was your turn to take a deep breath.

“Hold on, baby boy. We both just finished touching ourselves not too long ago. Let’s do this another time.”

“Aww...Boo. You’re no fun,” Jisung’s usual cheeky self returned.

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, but I already came 3 times tonight. Let my vagina rest, Sung.”

“Fair,” he laughed. “Does that mean I get to sub next time?”

“Hm… If you’re nice to me, then yes.”

“Oh baby, you know i’ll be the best behavior if it means getting topped by you.”

Instead of feeling horny, you only felt playfulness behind his words. “Good. I’ll be sure to give my baby a treat tomorrow then.” Jisung cheered giddily, fueling your own amusement. “By the way, what’s with the kink talk? I mean, I knew it was gonna come eventually but still.”

You couldn’t see it, but Jisung shrugged at your question. “Well, if we’re gonna be together, then I need to know everything about you that you enjoy.” Your face dropped, your chest swelling in adoration and alarm. Not hearing a response from you made him panic. “Uh- unless you don’t wanna be a thing! That-that’s fine too...i guess, w-whatever! I just—!”

Jisung stopped when he heard you giggle. “You’re so cute, Sung.” You softly said in content. “It’s getting late, baby. I’ll see you in the morning, hm?”

“Y-yeah! See you in Jung’s class, baby!”

You ended the call then slid your phone under your pillow. Pulling your blanket all the way up to your chin, you squirmed around until you were comfortable enough to sleep. The only thing in your mind was Jisung and how much your relationship with him developed way too fast. It was a little...frightening for your fragile heart.

2nd Period; Mrs. Jung’s Renaissance Literature class. Probably the most boring class ever. Everyday, you regret ever signing up for it.

You begrudgingly walked to class, purposely taking small, slow steps so you don’t have to be there on time. However, as boring as the class is, the only reason why you find it tolerable is because it is the only class you share with Jisung. Looking up, you found yourself in front of your Literature class, much to your dismay. Grumbling, you stepped inside the room to find Jisung already at his (now) usual place at the back of the class, right beside you. ‘Weird,’ you thought, seeing how it’s usually you who comes to class before him. Jisung looked up, feeling eyes on him from the front of the class, and smiled when he saw it was just you. He gestured for you to come over to him; your heart racing as you stepped closer to him.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted happily, watching you take your seat beside him.

“Hi, Sungie,” you replied, setting your camera bag onto the floor under your legs and taking your laptop out of your bag. Feeling Jisung staring at you, you tched jokingly. “Am I that attractive that you can’t keep your eyes off of me?” you laughed. What you didn’t expect, however, was Jisung’s blunt response.

“Yes.”

“O-oh? Uh…”

“I thought I made it clear that I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said truthfully, giving you a bright smile. Your eyes were wide, face heating up at his straight-forwardness. He threw you a flirty wink and chuckled, going back to sit up straight at his own seat. Flustered, you hid your face with your hoodie, tightening the drawstrings to further conceal your blush. From beside you, you could hear Jisung snort, trying not to laugh at you. Before you could scold him, the bell rang and Mrs. Jung entered the class.

Jisung’s drowsy eyes wandered the whole room for the umpteenth time. His ears only shut out the mundane information his instructor was teaching. Something about a Scottish poet named George Lauder being responsible for the advancement of the steel industry or whatever? ‘Man, what does that have to do with the renaissance era?’ It’s only been 30 minutes since the class started and he already wanted to get out of here. No matter how hard he tried focusing on the lesson, the words only went through one ear and out the other. Needless to say, it way too uninteresting for him to retain anything.

His eyes then traveled to your hunched form. He had to resist the urge to pull out his phone and take a picture of your cute face all scrunched up in concentration, your figure engulfed by the oversized purple hoodie you were wearing. In the midst of his ogling, Jisung felt a gentle kick on his right leg. His eyes focused to finally notice you side eyeing him. It was as if you were telling him ‘pay attention or else’. All he did was grin and continued gawking at you.

You rolled your eyes, deciding to not mind him and try paying attention to Mrs. Jung; even if you yourself thought the class was boring as hell. You then feel a warm hand on your left thigh. Since it was just Jisung, you shrugged his hand off of you and typed in the shared doc you both created just to talk in this class. You typed:

‘What are you doing?’

Leaning over to his own screen, Jisung read the message on his laptop then replied.

‘babe i’m sorry but i’m so fucking bored’

‘Me too, but you gotta pay attention, baby boy’

‘hmm i love it when you call me baby boy ;)’

You side-glanced him with a ‘are you serious?’ look while he merely smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as if it would seduce you.

‘Funny. Don’t you dare get horny in the middle of class, Han Jisung!’

‘:)’

Jisung made a quiet sputtering noise as he put his head down onto the table. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him fiddling his platform sneakers with his feet. You restrained yourself from laughing at him. He looked exactly like an annoyed kid on the verge of throwing a tantrum. You shook your head. ‘The poor man is really trying’

Sneakily sliding your phone into your pocket, you stood up from your seat, the chair making a slight screech, catching Jisung’s—as well several other students’— brief attention, to head to the front of the class. Signing your name into the ‘restroom log’, you briefly pointed to the door when you made eye contact with Mrs. Jung, and went to the restroom. You grinned to yourself, thinking about how Jisung would react to his little gift.

The painfully bored boy watched as you left the room. He pouted, his boredom only increased tenfold without you. He went back to his laptop, clicking on another tab to do something, when he felt his phone vibrate from his back pocket. He jolted. ‘Who the hell would text me while I’m in the middle of class?’ Jisung slowly took out his phone to check his notifications. Seeing your name on the screen, he stared in confusion.

‘Y/n? What’re you doing?’ Glancing to see if Mrs. Jung could see him, he unlocked his phone to read your message.

My baby 💘: Remember what I said last night?

Many thoughts, none of which were pg, raced through his mind. ‘What exactly are you talking about?’ He adjusted his keyboard to properly type with one hand.

Me: depends

are we talking about me subbing or your “gift”?

My baby 💘: Hmm sure. You’ll see 😉

Jisung nearly let out an audible ‘huh?’ because of your rather cryptic message. Not wanting to get caught, he hid his phone between his legs and waited for your next text. After almost a minute, this phone vibrated again. Big Mistake…

Strike 1!

‘God, Han Jisung, you fucking idiot!’ The shock unintentionally sent waves of pleasure between his legs, almost coaxing out a whimper from his mouth. He cleared throat, trying to ignore the erection that was threatening to pop up, and inconspicuously took his phone.

Strike 2!

If Jisung died at that very moment, then he wouldn’t even be mad. No regrets or anger whatsoever for his eyes was blessed with the most salacious photo of yourself. There you were, sweater pulled up to show off the lacy red bra that adorned your breasts—your arms deliberately squeezing them together to make them even more tempting than they already are—and pants pulled down enough to show a cheeky glimpse of the matching set of panties hugging your hips. Jisung swore he could feel his blood rushing to his dick and nose; he even went as far as wiping it in case he really did get a nosebleed.

‘Y/n, you minx...’’

Me: baby…

what you’re doing is very dangerous for the both of us

My baby 💘: Oh? Are you sure you didn’t forget what we talked about, baby boy

Jisung anxiously looked back and forth from his phone to his teacher. He covered his mouth when you sent another shameless nude to him. Now it was a picture of your hands cupping your breasts, your bra unclasped, threatening to slide off your shoulders. How you managed to take the photo was beyond Jisung’s comprehension. Though, now that he’s as turned on as a horny 13 year old boy on a porn site for the very first time, it’s safe to say that there was nothing on his mind except you, and you only.

He set his keyboard back to its default mode and put his head down, fingers hastily tapping on his phone to reply.

Me: come on baby

please don’t do this to me

i’m hard. i really popped a boner in the middle of class…

this is fucking embarrassing

Jisung just knew that you were laughing at him, finding great joy in his predicament. He subtly adjusted himself to do something about his hard-on. ‘So fucking embarrassing’ He blushed, biting his lip. He silently prayed to whatever deity out there that his erection was unnoticeable through his sweatpants; he was so grateful that you two sat at the back of the class. His phone buzzed again, it was another message from you.

Strike 3!

He’s out…

My baby 💘: It’s mommy for you today, baby boy 😉😉

Above was a picture of you...Bra hanging from your mouth...Your pearly teeth biting down on one of the straps...Pants off...Panties moved to the side...Showing off your dripping core to the camera...Your fingers threatening to slide inside your core…

Somebody please help this poor man. He might get a heart attack because of you. And if he doesn’t die from that, then it might be because of the rage of sexual frustration he felt when you came back with a seemingly innocent smile on your face. Jisung was just lucky nobody noticed his hard cock throbbing the rest of the session. More importantly, thank god Mrs. Jung is an oblivious old woman.

‘Y/n L/n, you FUCKING MINX!’

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER] 📱 [NEXT CHAPTER]

[bellasweetwriting]

Rescue Romance

Spencer Reid x f.Reader

(not my gif)

MASTERLIST

plot: you’ve been kidnapped by an unsub who fell in love with you, and Spencer is the one who rescued you

notes: extreme confident!reader, nervous!spencer, this is just a brainstorm of a book idea I had and decided to make it a spencer fanfic u know normal stuff

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of torture, mentions of rape, drinking, age gap (22-29), blood, injuries, criminal minds typical stuff

category: mostly angst and a little bit of fluff

word count: 3,9k

    "Y/N Y/L/N, 22, kidnapped in a club near the college campus while partying with her friends. Last seen at 1 AM, reported missing by her roommates when she didn't appear in all-day three hours ago," informed Garcia to the team while they were revising the case on the jet. "The New Haven PD is waiting for you at the police station."

    "Thank you, Garcia," thanked Hotch, but Garcia continued to talk.

    "There's something else you need to see."

    "What is it?" Questioned Morgan.

    "One of her roommates, Sandy Melville, has a channel where she posts videos of her life in college and with roommates. And Y/N appears in all of them."

    "You think this could be the work of a stalker?" Asked JJ looking at Garcia. 

    "Someone could've watched Y/N in the background of the videos and developed a crush on her," said Emily.

    "Not in the background," corrected Garcia, "she's the protagonist of the videos. Sandy followers love her, and I don't blame them."

    Garcia proceeded to show the team one of the videos of Sandy walking through the snow of New Haven. The three friends were on the sidewalk, and the camera was focused on you as you kicked the snow off to the street as you laughed.

     "Y/N you are going to slip and fall!" Exclaimed your other roommate, Liz, pointing the ice that was on the border of the sidewalk. You continued to laugh.

     "Don't be such a drama queen, Liz, and enjoy the snow!" You yelled with a smile. "Kindness is like snow ─ it beautifies everything it covers."

    "Kahlil Gibran," interrupted Spencer, surprising the team who haven't heard him talk in the entire trip. "It's a writer, he said that."

    "Don't be so poetic, Y/N!" Exclaimed Sandy.

    "Kahlil Gibran said it, and I live for those words," you replied. The camera quickly turned to Liz.

    "She's crazy," said laughing before being hit with a snowball on the shoulder. "Y/N!"

    You simply laughed, and the video ended.

   "There are videos of their whole lives," commented Garcia. "Sandy recorded everything and posted online."

    Spencer was still staring at the frozen image of you laughing. Something about it had your complete attention.

    "Ok, JJ, I want you to make a press conference, and then, you and I will talk to the roommates and ask Sandy if she recorded something about the night of her disappearance. Morgan, Prentiss, go to the club, watch the security tapes, see if someone was looking at Y/N or talking to her. Reid, Dave, victimology, go to her apartment and learn everything you can about Y/N, including maybe what attracted the stalker to her. Garcia, check conversations, someone that has messaged her, that she blocked, calls, anything you can get, see if there is anything suspicious. We'll meet back at the station with everything we found."

    Spencer grabbed your picture from the file. It was your college ID photo, and you looked stunning. Your hair was curled, your eye makeup was bright, different from the one's he has seen. Yours made your eyes appear bigger and shinner, while your lipgloss made shine your pink lips. 

-----------------------------------------------------

    Rossi and Reid walked through your room, staring at the details of your walls, your awards, your photographs. You are intelligent, your bookshelves are filled with different literature books that could explain your knowledge.

    "She speaks French," announced Rossi as he grabbed your French edition of Candide by Voltaire. 

    "And Spanish," added Reid going through your notes in Spanish literature class. "She's smart."

    "She goes to an Ivy League School, we should've expected more than this," observed Rossi. "This is a clever, intelligent girl, she wouldn't leave with a stranger just like that, it doesn't make any sense."

    "Well, she was drunk," said Spencer. "She just finished finals, she's graduating with a Criminology Degree in two weeks and went to celebrate with her friends."

    "Finals are very stressful, and it was a college bar, so maybe she didn't have her defence mode on, she trusted the guy. Where is her dog?" Asked Rossi pointing the dog bed next in your corner.

    "With her roommate," Spencer replied. "It's not usually from a stalker to approach their object of desire without preparation, and a club is risky. Y/N had to know the guy and trusted him."

    "Or, she never saw him coming," whispered Rossi.

    "Do you think hhe attacked her from behind? It was a crowded club, someone must have seen it."

    "He could've put a knife on her back, asked her not to scream and walked her outside. She was drunk, so she was weak, she couldn't fight back. He had to know that. Y/N looks like a girl who can defend herself. Everything in this room screams confidence, her videos, her attitude, he had to kidnap her in her weakest moment."

    "For that, he had to know she would have her finals last week. What if we are not looking for someone who developt a crush through the internet videos, but rather someone who sees her every day?"

-----------------------------------------------------

    You slowly opened your eyes. The room was dark, with just one dash of light entering through a small window near the roof.

    You were in a basement.

    Your hands were tied over your head, your feet lifted from the ground only letting the tip of your tow to touch the cold dirt under you. You exhaled. Your eyes felt heavy to open. Blinking was hard because opening them again felt tiring. 

    Your underneath t-shirt was filled was no longer red, your pants and sweater were missing, for some reason, your stomach hurt like hell.

    With all your strength, you look at it, having an idea what was it but being scared of it. You slowly focused your eyes on the red stain in your clothing and the cuts in your legs.

    You heard someone crying and took you a few seconds to realize it was you. You haven't sobbed in a while, in years maybe. It scared you. You were scared. All alone.

-----------------------------------------------------

    Spencer and Rossi entered the police station and walked towards the table where the team was sitting. The whole board was filled with your information, your class schedule, your contacts, your credit card information, your grades, your family members, everything that Garcia could get from your computer.

    "What did you find?" Asked Hotch to Reid.

    "She's intelligent, she speaks three languages, and her whole life screams confidence, "look at me". It doesn't make sense she would leave the club with a guy and not tell her friends before in case something happens to her."

    "We think her stalker is not someone who watches the videos, but someone she knows. A classmate, a teacher, someone that knew her well to affirm that she finished her finals yesterday, and that will go to a particular bar to celebrate with her friends."

    "There are at least five different college bars that Y/N and her friends frequented," added JJ as she remembered what your roommates told her. "How did the unsub know she will go to that bar exactly?"

    "Maybe he heard her. If Reid's theory that the unsub is a classmate, she could've said it in class and he listened."

   "Ok," interrupted Garcia, "I found three blocked accounts in Y/N social media of guys trying to flirt with her but coming to strong that maybe worried her, but none of them is remotely near her, and I checked their entire background."

    "We checked the security cameras and the bar receipts," announced Morgan as he and Prentiss entered. "Neither she nor her friends bought any drinks that night."

    "They were sober?" Questioned Spencer.

    "No, someone bought them for them. Maybe our unsub."

    "My dear super friends," interrupted Garcia appearing on the screen. "I was checking Sandy's phone like you told me, and she did record last night at the bar."

    "I thought she said she didn't remember."

    "Well, turns out she did. Check this out."

    The video was clearly terrible quality. Sandy was moving and dancing around, making it impossible for the camera to focus. When she stopped, the team could clearly see your silhouette as you drank what it appeared not to be your first shot of tequila.

    "Y/N! Y/N! I'm dying to know," said Sandy drunkenly. "What is your plan after graduating?" 

    "Uhm," you whispered, trying to talk clearly. "The only thing I have available is the FBI."

    "Could you imagine," interrupted Liz between laughs, "Y/N with a gun?" 

    "I would look incredibly hot with a gun, what are you talking about?" You joked between laughs. "I don't know what it's outside for me. All my life, I've had everything planned. Study, get good grades, repeat. It can be scary doing something different."

    "Oh, please," said Liz as she was falling next to you. You were quick to catch her and put her arm over your shoulder, "you are Y/N Y/L/N, I bet everyone wants you."

    "I am a man who does not exist for others."

    "Ayn Rand," murmured Spencer.

    "You are a woman," said Sandy.

    "It's from Ayn Rand, you guys are so drunk," you laughed before turning around. "Where the hell is the guy who bought these for us?"

    You looked through the bar but didn't find him.

    "Hey, girls, I'll be back in a sec, I'm gonna pay for the drinks," you told your friends with a tiny smile.

    "Wait, Y/N, let's dance," interrupted Sandy, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the dance floor.

    "Morgan, who was the guy who bought the drinks for them?" Interrogated Hotch and Morgan quickly went through the receipts of last night. 

    "At least six people bought tequila shots last night. End of finals week."

    "Y/N felt the need to pay the drinks back," pointed out Spencer as he watched you danced on the screen. "Why would she do that?" 

    "She felt bad because he bought drinks for all her friends but wasn't hanging out with them?" Proposed JJ.

    "Or, something attracted her of him," whispered Spencer before clicking one of the videos in Sandy's vlog. "I was looking at this video earlier. Sandy asked Y/N how her ideal guy look like. Maybe the stalker watched it and tried to mimic it."

    "Why were you watching that video, Reid?" Asked Emily, and he shook his head nervously.

    "Research... for the case... yeah. Here it is."

    "My ideal guy," you murmured as you played with your little dog on your bed. "He has to be smart, but not cocky smart, he has to be humble. I hate mystery, so he has to be direct with me, with what he wants, I like that. Maybe tall, handsome, not afraid to talk to me. I don't know, Sandy, someone that can catch my attention without even trying."

    Reid paused the video just in time to see your smile to the camera. You were so pretty.

    He had to find you alive, he had to meet you.

    "We don't have time for a profile. Garcia, check the security video and look for a tall, good looking man that bought tequila shots between 10:30 and 11."

    Garcia was quick enough to show the security footage in the screen, pausing just in time to show a man buying the shots and telling the bartender to send them towards a table. Your table.

    "Who is that?" Questioned JJ, and Derek was quick enough to check.

    "Baby girl, look for William Klaus, Gale Andrews, Damien Ace and Ricardo Montero and tell me which one looks like the guy at the bar."

    "Neither of them," she said.

    "Can he have used another person's tab?" 

    "No, that would have involved other people to his concerns. He is meticulous, he doesn't leave a trail."

    "Did he pay in cash?" Asked JJ.

    "That many tequila shots? Who has that kind of money in hand? He had to use a credit card."

    "All of these kids go to private school. If he actually goes to college with them, he has money."

    "We are back to nothing. All of our eyewitnesses were drunk."

    "Except the bartender," pointed out Spencer. "He's gotta remember someone who paid in cash."

    "Ok, Morgan, Prentiss, go to the bar again and interview the bartender, ask for someone who paid for shots in cash. We will deliver the profile."

-----------------------------------------------------

    "The man we are looking for is white in his late teens and early twenties. Tall, and handsome, probably talks smartly and is nervous around people, traits that he learned by listening to Y/N description of an ideal man."

    "It is a student on campus. We denominate this unsub as a Love-Scorned stalker, he believes that Miss Y/L/N is madly in love with him. He has probably seen her sometimes giving him glances, or smiling, and thinking they were for him."

    "This type of unsub is extremely asocial, does not participate in scholar events, does not raise his hand in class, and is remarkably intelligent, enough to get into a private school."

    "This unsub is not a killer but will become one the second his fantasy seems interrupted. Maybe by the same Y/N who doesn't want to play along, there's no way to know how is he going to react with her. We trust that Y/N will realize that she needs to pretend to be in love with him to survive, but we can't be sure."

     "In case of his fantasy being blinded or interrupted, he can get really aggressive and possessive towards her. He's been dreaming to be with her for so long that her rejecting him is not an option."

     "Stalkers commonly killed their objective of desire. The time in which they do, variates in how the victim reacts to them."

    "That's why we need to find her as soon as possible. Ask her classmates, teachers, friends. Someone has to have listened to our unsub suspiciously talk about her, maybe in a way that made them uncomfortable. Our unsub can't manage what he says in public due to his weak social skills."

    "Thank you," finished Hotch, and the police department broke apart, going separate ways. "She's been missing 20 hours, let's find her as quick as possible." The team divided, but Hotch stopped Reid before he could walk away. "Reid, have Garcia found Y/N's parents?"

    "No, uhm, her mom died, and her dad abandoned them when she was little. Her aunt is on her way, though."

    "Ok, thank you."

-----------------------------------------------------

    "Dance," he ordered you, "I always loved your dancing. You danced for me a few weeks ago, remember."

    "It was a charity event for the school, Parker," you whispered. "I danced for everyone."

    "I'm not scared of you, ok? Do whatever you want. You want to kill me? Then do it, I'm tired."

    "I will never hurt you, Y/N."

    "Yes, you will. Stalkers always kill their object of desire, Parker, and you've been stalking me for a while, haven't you? You think I'm in love with you, don't you?"

    "Shut up," Parker whispered before you spit blood that you had in your mouth. "You are ruining this!"

    "What? Your fantasy? You aren't in love with me, Parker, you are in love with the idea of me. You don't know me."

    "I do... know you... I know you."

    "No, you don't. Just because you know at what time I leave for school, at what time I arrive home. Just because you know I walk my dog every afternoon and with who I hang out doesn't mean you know me. Parker, I'm more than a schedule, an object that you see walking through your binoculars. Just because you raped me and broke my arm doesn't mean you know my body. You can't love, Parker..."

    "Stop!"

    "... it's chemically impossible," you continued, "you don't feel love. You are missing one of the most beautiful feelings in the world, and it's not even your fault! You are a sociopath, and no matter how much you try, you will never know how the adrenaline of seeing someone across the room that you love feels like, you'll try to replicate it. You'll kill just to feel something, even if you don't want to."

    "Shut up! Shut your mouth!"

    "Kill me," you didn't even realize how you stuttered while saying those words. "It's the only way you are actually going to feel something. Kill me, because when you get in a mental home, the feeling of my blood running through your hands and skin is the only thing you are going to have, and you are never going to get it again. It's a drug that it's only going to work the first time. After you stab me with that knife, you are going to feel something for three seconds for the first time in your life, just so then, not feeling nothing at all for the rest of it. You must want it to be unique, right? Your first kill, probably your only one. So, light some candles, end my suffering... I'm not even going to feel it with the pain of my arm so who cares."

    Parker was staring at you, not moving, not knowing what to do, while you just look at him. You already knew that if you didn't get medical attention soon, the blood you are loosing for the cuts in your legs, and the pain from your broken arm were going to do the job for him, so you had nothing to lose. And making him spend his entire life in jail for murder was your goal.

    "Do it... kill me..."

-----------------------------------------------------

    "Ok, so I did some research and found out that Y/N was part of this dance marathon for a charity event where an anonymous guy donated three thousand dollars just so she would keep dancing," informed Garcia. 

    "That's an enormous amount of money just for her to dance," observed Derek.

    "And that is not the creepiest part, I found the name of the donor, and it is Parker Edwards, he is an art and literature student, and please look at the last art assignment that he delivered for his final grade in finals week."

    Garcia showed them a gigantic portrait of you next to a creepy guy, not smiling, just staring deadly to the camera.

    "Well, that's definitely creepy," murmured Prentiss.

    "Do you have an address?" Asked Hotch.

    "House 365, 21st with Second Avenue."

    "Let's go."

-----------------------------------------------------

    "Y/N, I need you to open your eyes," you heard someone whisper to you, and you slowly did. "My name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm with the FBI."

     "He didn't kill me?" You questioned slowly. Your mouth was dry, and you couldn't feel your legs. 

    "No, he didn't. Y/N, I need you to open your eyes, please." You nodded. He proceeded to untie you, and you let fall in his arms. "I got you, I got you," he mumbled. "Can you walk?" You glanced at him, for then to show him how you couldn't even put your feet straight.  "Sorry, stupid question, put your arm around me."

    "Not that arm, he broke it when he carried me in here." Spencer listened and changed sides, helping you to get out.

    As soon as you were outside, the smell was different. You were used to the smell of dirt and your own blood, that when the spring breeze of New Haven hit you, you couldn't help but to smile.

     "Would you join me in the ambulance?" You questioned, and he nodded. The paramedics got you inside and started plugging cables and hydrating you, but your eyes were just in Spencer. "You look young to be a doctor."

     "If I had a penny for every time I hear that," you chuckled. "How are you feeling?"

     "Like writing this in the experience box for my FBI academy application," you mumbled, now making him laugh. "I know that I'm covered in dirt and blood, and shampoo hasn't touched my hair in a while... but I'm actually pretty." He raised his eyebrows, noticing that the painkillers were taking effect. "Probably my legs look like the legs of a training object for ninjas with all of those cuts, but I'm a terrific dancer."

    "I know. I saw the videos that Sandy filmed. Of you dancing at the bar."

    "That's drunk. But sober, let me tell you, John Travolta got his inspiration for Pulp Fiction by me, true facts." He laughed. "Thank you for saving me."

    "It's my job, and it's going to be yours too."

    You chuckled.

    "You are cute, doctor," you mumbled before closing your eyes and being able to sleep for the first time in hours.

-----------------------------------------------------

    October arrived. It's been months since the kidnapping and arrest of Parker, and it was your first day in Virginia for the academy. You were nervous, now more than ever. What if you didn't have what it takes?

     You were completely cured, and the doctor freed you completely, and the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

     You and the doctor had been talking for months now, and he was everything you dreamed of. He was smart, funny, he paid attention to you, and even though you guys were just friends, you liked him.

    You liked him a lot.

    "This pile paperwork gets bigger every time I look at it," whispered Morgan staring at the tower. "I had plans tonight."

    While Derek complained, Reid finished his and gave them to Hotch, and Morgan felt that as a personal attack."

     "Please, tell people that if you disappear, I'm the prime suspect."

    "Hey, isn't that Y/N from the New Haven stalking case?" Asked Emily to Spencer, making him look towards the door where you were standing, looking at him.

     "Be right back," said the doctor standing up and walking towards you.

     "What was that?" Asked Morgan to Prentiss, but she had no idea.

     As soon as he was closer, he hugged you, and you felt safe immediately. You've only had seen him a few times since the hospital, so every time you guys reconnected, it was like you both grew up even more.

     "Y/N, you look great."

     "I told you once that I was incredibly pretty."

     Last time he saw you, you still had cuts in your face and a cast on your arm. Now, you were like a different person. Like that girl, he once admired dancing in those videos months ago.

     "What are you doing here?"

     "Today is my first day in the academy," you let him know. "I wanted to tell you tonight, but I couldn't wait." He smiled. "Hey, so, I have a surprise."

     "Another one?" You chuckled.

     You took out from your pocket two tickets for a horror film festival the day before, and he glanced at them curiously.

     "We both love Halloween, so I thought it could be a great idea." He smiled.

     "I love it... Y/N, about us."

     "Don't say anything, you whispered, proceeding to kiss his cheek. "We will talk about it after. Bye, Spencer."

    "See you tomorrow," he said softly, making you smile before leaving.

    "Reid," Morgan called him, "care to explain?"

    "Don't you have paperwork to do?" Morgan laughed, watching him walk away with a big smile.

    "Pretty boy..." 

[redrobinfection]

(16) Graveyard

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober (2018) - Day 16 “Graveyard”

Tim & Damian | Implied JayTim | Implied DickDami | College AU | No Capes | Crack | actual discussion of literature | Dick Grayson was adopted by the Drakes instead of the Waynes | Want to write/create with me? Find the prompt list here!

~*~

"How about four out of seven?" Tim asked with a shrug, winding up the toilet paper roll again.

Damian, his fellow barista, threw his roll at Tim's head, missing wildly. He glared. "You cheated, Drake!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he retrieved Damian's roll and began winding it up too. "How could I cheat at coffee cup bowling, ‘Wayne’?"

"You wind your roll too tightly. It doesn't unravel as much when you pitch it and thus has more mass by the time it hits the cups."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "What are you now, a physics major? That just sounds like strategy, dude. You are free to roll your roll as tightly as you'd like. That isn't against the rules."

Damian fumed. "The rules you made up! This is why I said we should use the rice crispy ba--customer."

Tim whirled on the spot, seeing that, indeed, a paying customer had entered their little, semi-enclosed coffee shop. Outside, a few students sat or sprawled over the sectional couches that filled the large basement of the university student union in which the shop was located.

Tim turned and vaulted over the counter. He heard a quiet "-tch-" from Damian as he walked to the hinged raise-able section of the counter and let himself in.

Tim straightened his apron and stepped up the register with a smile. The customer stood about five feet from the register, head tilted back, studying the menu board over Tim's head with bleary eyes. The guy was like a zombie, he was that exhausted. Tim cut his eyes over to the clock on the wall. 3:45 am. Hell of a time for coffee.

Tim glanced over his shoulder at Damian, who was reawakening the cranky espresso machine with deft fingers. Seven hours and forty-five minutes with Damian "the Demon " Wayne down, only four hours and fifteen minutes to go. Tim turned back to their customer and sighed. This was going to be a loooooooong morning.

At second glance, there was something familiar about the guy, but Tim couldn't put his finger on where he knew him. The guy had pretty teal eyes, but they were reddened and dull, like he hadn't closed them except to blink in way too long. He was also pretty well cut, Tim noticed, with clearly muscled arms and pecs so defined that Tim could clearly see them through the man's sweater. Maybe that's how Tim knew him? Maybe he'd seen him in the UREC weight room?

The guy's most eye-catching feature by far was the white forelock that curled down over his forehead. He was the third person Tim had met to have a whitened forelock like that; the other two were fraternal twins who had had small patches of albinism right at their widows peaks which affected both the skin and hair. Tim idly wondered if this guy's white lock was natural too. In any case, it looked frickin' cool, a lot cooler than his own; the best thing he could say about his own hair was that he could pull off the 90's curtain cut plus semi-mullet well enough that he could go an entire semester on a single haircut.

Tim was drawn out of his thoughts when dude finally stepped up to the counter and began to speak.

"Uh, hi, could I get a large, double-shot caramel latte?"

"Absolutely. How many pumps of caramel do you want?" Tim asked cheerily.

The guy looked up from digging through his overly stuffed messenger bag. "Uhh…the normal four should be fine."

"Okay, that will be $6.47. Can I get a name for the order?"

The guy didn't look up this time. "Uh, Jason. Gimme a sec', I know my wallet is at the bottom of this thing somewhere."

"No problem, take your time. It's not like we have a line, anyway," Tim joked.

This guy looked so dead right now--inside and out--that if he didn't find his wallet, then Tim would probably just buy the coffee for the guy himself. He understood better than anyone the sudden need for caffeine at odd hours of the day. He's not sure how he would have finished half his computer science projects this term without a much-needed double-espresso every couple of hours, to be honest.

The guy--'Jason' apparently--finally fished out a small money clip then handed over a student ID card. "Put it on my Dining Dollars, please."

"Yeah, no probl- wait a minute!" Tim cut off, staring. Suddenly, it had hit Tim where he knew this guy. "Aren't you that kid who always sits at the front of Professor Hyatt's nine-fifteen, Tuesday-Thursday, Modern European Literature and answers all the questions?"

The dude raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Why…? Wait…" He squinted and leaned in. "Aren't you the kid who once tried to sit all the way back in the AV booth, since, and I quote, 'the back wasn't far enough back'?"

Tim grinned as he swiped the ID card through the register. "Haha, yeah."

Damian moved as if to step up to the counter, the guy's drink in hand, but stopped dead about a foot away. He stared.

"Wait. Aren't you the guy who always comes in, gets tea, and sits in the window over there and reads romance novels?" Damian asked, eying him appraisingly.

The dude huffed. "Yes. My name is Jason--by the way--and they're not romance novels, it's classic lit. Now can I get my coffee?"

Damian handed the coffee over the counter, but raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You mean to tell me Rebecca is not a romance novel?"

"Wait, what!? Do you mean Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca?" Tim asked as he handed Jason's ID card back over the counter.

Damian nodded wordlessly. Tim snorted, then said, "That's not a romance! That's a totally a murder mystery! You must be confusing it with Jane Eyre. I get those mixed up too."

Jason nodded in agreement, tucking his ID away before taking his first sip of coffee. He moaned, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he savored in the sweet bliss of piping hot caffeine at 3:49 in the morning, then he looked at Damian and said, "Well, actually, I'll give you that one, uh…" --he paused to squint at Damian's name tag-- "...'Damian'; Rebecca is a modern romance novel by classification, but it's also a crime thriller just like--whazzatsay?--'Tim' said."

He turned to Tim. "I'm not surprised you'd confuse it with Jane Eyre, considering that a lot of scholars believe du Maurier adapted it from Jane Eyre."

"Wait, really?" Tim said with a laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking that! Rebecca is like the less boring version of Jane Eyre."

Jason froze halfway into sitting down in one of the arm chairs that lined the wall closest to the door and looked up at Tim as if he had just suggested burning down the library or something similarly unthinkable. "Whaaaaaat?! I can't believe you just implied that any of the Brontë sisters' works is boring!"

Tim laughed again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was only twelve when I read Jane Eyre, so maybe I'd enjoy it more if I read it again now--with a mature perspective--but I remember Rebecca being a blast for thirteen-year-old me so…" He smiled, then shrugged.

Jason stared. "Twelve? Thirteen? Jeez. What else were you trying to read that young?"

"I mean, I read Moby Dick the year before that, in sixth grade," Tim admitted, shrugging until his shoulders hit his ears.

Jason gave him a flat stare. "Moby Dick? Moby fucking Dick? You've gotta be kidding me. And lemme guess, you also thought Herman Melville's masterpiece was a load of crock?"

Tim laughed, but shook his head and waved his hands placatingly. "No, no, no. I only understood, like, every fifth word--so.many.whaling.terms!--and it took me four months to get halfway in only to realize there was no way I was going to finish it by the end of the school year--I ended up skipping to the end and guessing for a lot of the AR test questions--but I definitely got the sense that it was a seminal work and that I was just too young to appreciate it. I've always meant to go back and try it again, but I still haven't gotten around to it."

"Why the hell were you trying to read Moby Dick at the age of twelve?" Jason asked incredulously, leaning back in the chair and taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Eleven, but, ah, well, my mom was convinced I had to be The BestTM in everything, so she pushed me to max out my Accelerated Reader level by the end of sixth grade and demanded that I always get the most AR points of anyone in my class, so I read a lot of the 20 point-and-up books." Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think Moby Dick was 47 points...Rebecca was 25...Jane Eyre was 33..."

Jason stared, shaking his head slowly. "So…what? You're fine with Moby Dick, a romance of the American Renaissance, but a gothic romance of the British Victorian era like Jane Eyre isn't good enough for you? Next you'll try to tell me you think Wuthering Heights is a snooze fest!"

"Well, I mean, I never could get into it, so…"

Jason slammed both hands down on the arms of his chair, incensed. "Okay, Mister, get your butt over here and sit down, we need to have a talk about Victorian Gothic and why, hands down, it is some of the best literature ever written."

Tim laughed again, then bit his lip, considering the offer. He glanced around the nearly empty coffee shop. Then he leaned over the counter and looked out into the lounge--there were exactly four people there and only one of them wasn't completely asleep in their books. Yeah, he could probably afford to humor the man.

He turned to Damian. "Hey, Dames, I'm going to make myself a coffee and take my break. You good to hold down the fort?"

"I told you not to call me that," Damian snapped, but there was no real heat to it; he liked to pretend that he hated the guts of all his coworkers, but Tim knew that he was Damian's favorite. "However, yes, I think I can manage. Go take your damned break, but when you come back I fully expect a rematch in bowling…and don't you dare cheat this time!"

Tim rolled his eyes and groaned, then turned toward trying to coax Ol' 'Spressolino--their affectionate name for the cantankerous espresso machine--into spitting out a double-shot for him. "It's not cheating, but fine, we'll do it your way," Tim replied. "But I'm telling you, you have to buy those rice crispy balls. I definitely don't want to have to explain to Barbara why some of the food on sale looks like it went through the spin cycle in a dorm washer."

Damian grinned smugly. "My pleasure. It will be a small price to pay in order to ensure your swift defeat."

Tim shook his head, grabbed his espresso in one hand and two biscotti off the front counter in the other, ducked under the counter drawbridge, then slid into the armchair across from Jason. He offered one of the biscotti to the other man and Jason accepted the free food with an appreciative smile. He already looked ten times less zombie-like, thanks to the caffiene, and he was honestly pretty damn attractive.

"Okay," Tim said, peeling the wrapper off his own biscotti and dunking it into his bitter cup of joy, "Educate me."

Between sips of coffee and bites of biscotti, Jason began explaining his thoughts on the romantic period of literature, but barely a minute into his lecture, a plastic-wrapped, ball-shaped rice crispy treat about the size of a cantelope whizzed by their feet and crashed into the ten extra-large paper coffee cups arranged in a bowling triangle at one end of the coffee shop, scattering them in a definitive strike.

Jason jumped in his seat and looked around wildly. "What the fuck?"

Tim sighed. "Daaaaaaamiaaaaaaan…"

"Shut up, Drake! I'm practicing. I need to hone my skills and adjust my form so I can thoroughly crush you in our next round," Damian called back. He marched from the counter to the end of the shop to retrieved his plastic-wrapped projectile.

Jason blinked in confusion. "I repeat: what the ever-loving fuck?"

Tim sighed again, then explained, saying, "It gets pretty boring in here during the graveyard shift, so we invented a game, coffee cup bowling. Normally, we'd sleep or study, but Damian finished his exams two days ago and I don't really study for exams, per se-"

"And sleep is for the weak," Damian finished, nodding as he walked past them carrying his sweet, gooey ammunition.

Tim nodded sagely, in agreement. "Sleep is for the weak."

Jason glanced over Tim's shoulder at the coffee cup bowling 'pins' and then over his shoulder at Damian as he lined up another throw. "You guys are insane," he declared.

Tim made a dismissive gesture. "I mean this is my third graveyard shift in a row and Damian here is almost 20 hours into a 24-hour stint. After that much sleep deprivation, you'd lose your sanity too."

Jason tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

"If you want, you're welcome to join us after we finish our coffee and literature talk," Tim offered amiably.

Jason watched as Damian threw another strike, sending one cup so far it landed in the pot of the ficus in the corner, and raised his eyebrows. "You know what…why not." He turned back to Tim with a grin. "I could use a bit of fun before I go back to work on my Native American Lit paper."

"Are you a lit major?" Tim asked curiously.

"I am."

Tim nodded. "That makes sense."

"And you?"

"I'm a CS major--computer science."

"That makes sense," Jason echoed, grinning.

Tim grinned back at him and waved a hand. "Okay, so as you were saying…?"

"Yes, as I was saying…"

Jason continued his little lecture while they continued sipping their coffee and nibbling on the biscotti. When they had finished--the coffee, not the discussion, because Tim was pretty sure Jason would go on for hours about literature once you got him started--they joined Damian in a game of "ten-cup."

It was in the middle of this heated battle of cups and marshmallow-bonded puffed-rice cereal balls that their next customer found them fifteen minutes later. The man, dressed in flower printed leggings and a black hoodie with "Gotham University Aerial Arts" printed across the chest in blue, took one look at them and grinned.

"Oh, hey! Coffee-cup bowling! I love that game! Do you think I could interrupt you guys for just a sec to get some hot chocolate?"

All three of them--the two baristas plus their customer--turned and stared.

"Hot… wait, what?" Jason said, laughing a little. "Man, it's like 4:30 in the morning. Why are you getting a hot chocolate at 4:30 in the morning?"

The man laughed, too, shrugging before he explained, saying, "I don't like tea or coffee all that much, but I just finished a 20 page paper on ethics in police enforcement and I need a pick me up. I need to get my warm fuzzies going again."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, moving back toward the counter to get the man his drink. "You're going to end up being the cuddliest cop on the street, Dick."

"You know it, Timmy!" the man--'Dick' apparently--exclaimed, pulling Tim into a bear hug when he made the mistake of passing too close to Dick on his way to the counter. The hug escalated into a full on octopus hug as he lifted his legs to wrap around Tim's hips. Tim, for his part, ignored the grapple, opening the leaf in the counter and hobbling over to the drink bar with the human cephalopod still attached.

Damian and Jason stared. Damian cleared his throat and eyed Dick with poorly disguised interest. "Wait, do you know this man, Drake?"

Tim blinked dully as he turned around, a cup in one hand and a packet of instant hot chocolate in the other. "Yes. He's my brother." Dick made a squeeing noise and nuzzled his head into Tim's neck. Tim sighed. "My adopted brother," he amended testily.

Dick laughed, dropped his feet back onto the floor and stood up. He nearly wrung Tim's neck as he tried to hug him around the shoulders. "Awww, don't be like that, Tim. We haven't seen each other in two whole weeks and I needed my Tim-hugs! Gotta meet my cuddle-quota."

Tim shook his head and handed the hot chocolate back over his shoulder. "You're insufferably, insatiably clingy when you're this tired, Dick. Go home and sleep."

Dick finally released him to take the drink. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, sighing in appreciation. "Thanks, Tim, and yeah, but, only if you do the same. You're just as bad as me when you haven't slept, if not worse."

"Can't. Working," Tim answered curtly, vaulting the counter to escape before Dick's grabby hands could reach for him again. His brother wasn't wrong; Tim was always up for a good cuddle after a long stint without proper sleep, but he didn't like public displays of affection.

Dick took one look at the nearly empty coffee shop, the three of them, their game, and then laughed out loud. "Ahhh, the days of getting paid to drink coffee and make up games at 4:30 in the morning. I kind of miss it."

"Would you care to join us," Damian asked abruptly. Dick brightened.

"Absolutely!"

And so that was how the four of them ended up bowling for empty coffee cups with rice crispy treats the size of spaghetti squash while blasting ABBA’s greatest hits--Dick's terrible, wonderful idea--until the sun rose and their shift ended, at eight AM.

By the time the four of them walked out the door, Dick was trying to convince Damian to join him in the aerials gym before breakfast, and Damian, clearly eager to do anything with the handsome college senior, accepted readily. Jason and Tim, on the other hand, were back to discussing literature over coffee--now focused on the merits and downfalls of contemporary science fiction and fantasy as an art form--and making their way to the East Campus Dining Hall, so they could continue their discussion over breakfast.

Tim snorted softly as he listened to Jason list all the ways Dune defined an era of sci-fi/fantasy, then smiled at the way Jason took his hand--without seeming to realize it--to pull him forward after the crosswalk light changed out of Tim's line of sight. Oh, yeah, this one was totally gay/bi/pan and he was definitely asking him out the minute he saw the opportunity, Tim decided.

He smiled. Who would of thought he'd come out of last night's graveyard shift not only having seen his demon coworker and his older brother hit it off--of all things!--but having met someone for himself too! He laughed, thinking, you never know what crazy things you might see, or the people you might meet, at the campus coffee shop at 4 o' clock in the morning!

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 23)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2638

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​​​​​​​, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day of practical training and you were observing in the courtyard on the sidelines. Mordo was instructing everyone but Stephen just wasn’t getting the hang of it. After several minutes, The Ancient One stepped into the area and requested she be alone with Stephen. Mordo obliged and the class followed him inside. You stayed off to the side, watching. 

“My hands,” Stephen said in defeat.

“It’s not about your hands,” she countered.

“How is this not about my hands?” he defied.

“Master Hamir?” she requested. 

Master Hamir exposed his hand, and then an arm with no hand. He was able to cast the magic and spells, with no hand at all. This clearly dispelled all of Stephens’ preconceived notions of his failings. 

“Thank you, Master Hamir. You cannot beat a river into submission. You have to surrender to its current, and use its power as your own,” she advised.

“I… I control it by surrendering control? That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, the frustration clear in his tone. It was the same frustration you heard every night when you tried to teach him, or after every session he had with Mordo and he wasn’t any better than before.

“Not everything does. Not everything has to,” she insisted firmly. “Your intellect has taken you far in life. But it will take you no further. Surrender, Stephen. Silence your ego and your power will rise. Come with me,” she ordered as she formed a portal. 

The two of them walked through and you frowned. You went down a few steps to see where they’d gone. It looked snowy. 

Suddenly you heard her say, “Surrender, Stephen, and then she returned… by herself and the portal closed. 

Your eyes went wide as your heart raced. You ran forward to stand beside her. 

“Wha--Where is Stephen?” you asked, panicking. 

“On top of Mount Everest.” 

“Mount Everest? Oh, okay. Uh, and how is he supposed to get back?” you wondered, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. 

“On his own. He must surrender to the power, just as you did.” 

“That’s different, I just focused really hard.”

“You downplay your intellect and your abilities to everyone you know. It isn’t a nice characteristic, Y/N,” she noted. “You didn’t just focus, you believe in a power bigger than yourself. When you found out you had a mate, you didn’t doubt it for a moment.”

“Well no, why should I?” 

“Why Indeed. Stephen needs to gain the same faith and courage you do. That’s all.”

“What if he freezes to death in the meantime?” 

She didn’t respond, her eyes trained forward as Mordo came down, asking about the new recruit. You stood between the two, wringing your hands nervously, your chest tightening as you waited. You didn’t have a sling ring on. You couldn’t get to him. Besides, even if you did, maybe this tough love exercise is what he needed.

After another ion seemed to pass, finally, a spark outlined tunnel opened and Stephen fell through. You fell to your knees, your hands going all over him to ensure he was alright. He held onto you, relishing in your body heat. He felt positively ice cold. But he did it. 

You were so proud of him, you hugged him tightly. 

---------------------

As soon as he got a hot bath, he asked you to help cut his hair. He was ready to move on, and this was a symbol of moving on. He was done with the pity party. You helped cut his hair much shorter to his liking, and quite honestly to yours. Then you worked on shaving him, but when you got to his chin, he stopped you, telling you to leave it. Once you wiped away the cream, he worked some trimmers over the leftover goatee and mustache. 

“Damn, Strange, you clean up nicely.”

He smirked. 

“Is this how you looked at the hospital?”

“No facial hair,” he noted, “but for the most part, yes.” 

“I like it,” you said sincerely, with no hint of jest. You nodded as you admired him from the side. “It suits you, very well.” 

--------------------

After a while, he wanted to progress in the program much more quickly. He requested books on astral projection from Wong, but he refused. Being a tempestuous, he broke into the library via portals and took the books he wanted. 

As Wong had said, no knowledge is forbidden. 

Before long, Stephen was starting to read in his sleep. He used his astral form to take up the knowledge while he rested, giving him 24 hour access to literature he needed. 

Things progress quickly for him regarding his sorcery. Meanwhile, you read from the library, took notes leisurely, shopped in the nearby markets, and watched Stephen. Watching him learn was like watching Mozart write concerto. Once or twice he caught you staring at him. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you it wasn’t polite to stare?” he deadpanned.

You smirked and laughed, turning back to your laptop to write another email to Charles. When you weren’t looking, Stephen smiled to himself as well. 

One day, you were in the library, getting Stephen’s next round of books, but he was busy training for the day, so you thought you’d get a jump start on them. He ended up training well into the evening and you fell asleep at the table in the library. 

When he couldn’t find you, he got concerned, only for one of the other students to call to his attention that you were in the library. The two of them walked over and she pointed at you. Stephen was relieved to see you. He walked up and admired you for a moment. 

Not just how peaceful you looked but what you meant to him. You had once said that out of everyone he knew, colleagues, friends, everyone, you were the only one to stay. Even Christine up and left after one too many Strange Tantrums. Not only did you stay, but you fulfilled every role he needed in his life at the drop of a hat. Maid, cook, nurse, friend, confidant. You convinced him to come here, you trained with him every night, and you didn’t have to. You could’ve let him come on his own, face it by himself. You could’ve left once he got settled in. You could’ve done your own business while he trained. 

But you were with him every step of the way. And while Christine was nice, and bent over backward for him, she wasn’t you. She didn’t risk a relationship with another soulmate, just to save someone else. You did though. You were wholesome, good, and kind. You were tender, but firm. Fierce, but soft. Loving, but 

And he was in love with you. 

He picked you up and you groaned, your head lolling back as he carried you bridal style across the courtyard to your bedroom. He got you undressed and crawled in bed beside you. He wrapped his arm around you, feeling the love and freedom wash over him. 

Now, he just hoped you felt the same. 

-----------------

He informed you that the Ancient One said that if she told him any more than he didn’t already know, that he’d run from the temple in terror. You said that was an odd thing to say, but perhaps they guarded many secrets of the world. But it did make you wonder what exactly was going on.

Stephen had moved into the more physical part of his training - learning to fight. 

You , as always, sat in the corner of the courtyard sipping tea, reading, and observing Stephen as he trained. This never made him feel put on the spot or insecure. Quite the opposite, as a lover of all things that stroked his ego, he quite liked having an audience. 

You studied him, his movements, what Mordo had taught him and other masters. And just like with the magic, you trained every night with him. Sometimes Mordo even allowed you to train with the other students because he felt self-defense is good general knowledge. 

One morning, you were getting ready to go to the kitchen to grab lunch with Stephen. As you started to walk out, Stephen said, “Uh, hold on, one sec.” 

“Why? Something wrong?” you asked, your brows furrowing. 

“No, no. Uh, how would you feel about going out to eat?” he asked. 

“Sure, where were you thinking?” you wondered. 

“How about dinner on the beaches of Bora Bora?” he inquired as he opened a portal and before you was the most magnificent sight you’d ever seen. Pinks and blues paint the sky as a warm, inviting beach had gentle waves lapping on the beach. The salty mist of the ocean wafted in at you through the open portal. 

A table with two chairs and candles were directly in focus of you. 

You turned to him in awe. “I--Are we allowed?” you wondered.

‘Yes, I actually asked permission,” he informed. 

“You? Asking permission? I’m in disbelief.” 

He rolled his eyes while smiling. “Would you like to join me or not?” he questioned, knowing full well you did. 

“Yes,” you quietly answered. 

The two of you walked through the gateway, and the smell of the ocean hit you, making you feel relaxed instantly. Stephen walked you over to the table, pulled a chair out for you, then took a seat himself. 

“How exactly did you manage to pull all of this off?” you wondered. 

“I called down here, after getting permission from the Ancient One, and informed them we’d like a beach side reservation for two at this time.” 

“How did you know I’d say yes?” 

“You’re a hopeless romantic, that’s how,” he informed with a smirk that made his eyes light up and you couldn’t argue with him. 

“What did you say to the Ancient One?” you asked as a waiter came by to fill your glasses with lemon water. “How did you convince her to let us come here?” 

He bobbed his head. “I promised to stop opening gateways in the library to steal from Wong. And, Kamar-Taj isn’t a prison, Y/N, we can leave anytime we like. Or you, should you desire to leave at any point. We’re allowed to leave the temple.”

“Well yes, but using your sorcery for frivolous trips like this …”

“I may have also mentioned how… trying I’ve been to you. How awful I was when you first arrived at my apartment and how I have yet to make up for all the things you’ve done for me. Knowing that we’re soulmates and that you and I haven't done anything else to upset the balance at Kamar-Taj--”

“Other than you stealing library books. I told you not to do that. I order you to give those back,” you reminded sternly. 

“Right, other than my petty borrowing, we have been perfect students. She didn’t see any reason why we couldn’t steal away for an hour or two.” 

“That was very kind of her, and thoughtful of you. Thank you for this.” 

He made a face of dismissiveness. “Oh, it’s nothing.” 

You shook your head, laughing. “Is it nothing because you’ve been here with another girl, perhaps? A repeat offender?”

“Are you trying to see if I’ve taken Christine here?” he asked, eyeing the menu.

“Her, or any one else.” 

“To assuage your jealousy, no. I’ve never taken anyone here. Christine and I never left New York together, let alone go anywhere exotic. No, I’ve actually been here by myself. A little graduation present from my family.”

“Oh, that must’ve been nice. A family vacation out here.” 

“Wasn’t a family vacation. They sent me alone.” 

“Oh,” you said, sounding sorrowful and embarrassed. 

He put down his menu. “It’s okay, Y/N. You had no way of knowing. But yes, my family and I are not close. They’re rich and after the passing of my sister, we all grew rather distant.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Well, it’s been many years now. Let’s not dwell on it,” he encouraged with a smile. “So, what looks good to you?”

“Uh, a lot, actually,” you said, picking up the menu. 

“Same. Typically, the only tough choices I ever have are ordering from a menu,” he mused. 

“Really? What about letting me stay? Was that a tough choice?” 

“I didn’t choose that, you barged it,” he retorted with a bit of whimsy.

“Oh, like you couldn’t stop me or call the cops. You wanted me to stay. Why I’m not sure. I mean, I know now why you were so upset, but back then… why did you let me stay?”

He let out a small sigh, setting his menu down. “Because, for some inexplicable reason, the moment I saw you, I felt… better… whole.. I’m not entirely sure. When I was with Christine or any other woman for that matter, I never felt as if… I wanted to let them in. I never wanted them to see me weak, fail, hear about my past, my family. Any of it. When Christine tried to care for me, I resented her for it. I didn’t want her or anyone else to know how broken I was, inside and out. But for some reason, when you saw me, I looked in your eyes and sort of thought ‘everything’s going to be okay’.”

Somehow, you’d leaned close into him at the table, getting enraptured in him. 

“I knew you weren’t going to think less of me, and since I was at rock bottom when you met me, I thought the only place I could go is up. For some reason, I took a leap of faith with you that I’d never done with anyone else. You seem to make me do that. Do things I wouldn’t normally do, take risks I wouldn’t normally take. Believe in things I never thought possible.”

“I had no idea I had that effect on you. I thought it was only me,” you noted in amazement.

“Well you do, and while I haven’t said officially, I do want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I hope I can return the favor one day.”

“I hope you return the favor for many days,” you breathed. The second it was out of your mouth you realized what you had said, and the implications behind it. 

The more time you spent with Stephen, the more complicated things were with you and Charles. You loved both of these men, equally. Both were set to complete your soul. But you knew one day, you’d have to choose. One man for one lifetime, that’s how it worked, right?

One day, you would have to pick a man to live with, marry, spend the rest of your life with. 

How do you do that when one half of your heart loves one, and the other half loves the other? 

“I do too,” he said with a bit of a grin. 

The two of you ordered and chit-chatted about his training. Eventually conversation flowed into your younger years of college and friends. You had told him about Jenny, a topic that really hadn’t surfaced much. You couldn’t imagine what Jenny would think of your life right now. You made a note to reach out to her to see what she was up to. She was giddy with excitement when she found out you had one soulmate, when she found out you had two, she would absolutely flip. 

He told you funny stories about the OR, you told him some wild stories about your patients. The two of you seemed to be in stitches all night before returning to the temple to go back to the daily grind of training, but the rest of the day, you spent it as if you were in a honeymoon phase.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[simsadventures]

Only Mine:Chapter 1: One Night

Summary: Being single’s got its perks, such as going partying with your friends, and shamelessly flirting with people you know you shouldn’t be flirting with. And will you just flirt?

Warnings: swearing, alcohol abuse, smut (MUST 18+ TO READ THE PART BETWEEN WARNINGS- these will be put in front of the smut and when it ends, so that those who aren’t comfortable reading it, won’t have to, plenty will happen even without it)

Word Count: 3615 A/N: It’s finally here!! What do you guys think? I had so much fun writing it, I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I did. Feedback is gold, so pleaaaaase don’t hesitate and tell me what was on your mind reading it. Even constructive criticism is welcomed. Love you to pieces guys!! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

The combination of being single and out on Friday night made you giddy. It took you over three months to properly get over your ex-boyfriend, and you were finally willing to have some fun. Not that the relationship ended badly, not at all. You and Colin were still friends, but you woke up one day realising, that you couldn’t anymore. That this was not the life you wanted to live- being the goody-goody, the perfect girlfriend turned perfect wife. Mike was a sweet guy, but if you were being honest with yourself, he never really was your type.

You met him in college, he was studying law, and you were doing English literature because books and reading have always been your passions. Everyone around you said you were perfect for each other, except your best friend, Natasha. She would always say that he is nice enough, but that he wasn’t the one for you. That you needed a little more. You would always dismiss her, telling her that this was exactly what every girl dreams of. The perfect life. But three years into this perfect life, you realised that the gilded cage wasn’t perfect at all and that your freedom was more valuable to you than loads of money, and golf-club lunches on Sundays.

When you told Mike, he looked devastated. He would tell you that he wanted to marry you and that he didn’t understand what happened. But the more you talked, the more he realised that you weren’t happy there with him and that you desperately wanted something he couldn’t give you. You knew he would find the perfect girl without a problem, he was a real catch.

And even though you were the one who ended the relationship, you were still in pain, over the loss of your friend, mostly. You missed Mike’s advice, his listening skills, and his warm hugs. So yeah, it took you three months to first and foremost move out of his house, and find an apartment that you could afford, with the payroll of an editor. Luckily, Nat wanted to move as well, and so you found a place for the two of you. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a small little space, just enough for the two of you to be close together, but still have some sort of privacy.

Tonight marked the first night ever since you left Mike, that you wanted to go out, and actually enjoy a male company. You wanted just a little flirting here and there, some dancing maybe, and you’d be good. All you wanted was to feel desirable again.

To achieve that, you wore your red bondage dress, which ended on your mid-thigh. You matched your lipstick with the colour of your dress, curled your hair, checked if everything fitted the way it should, and walked out of your room.

Nat was already seating by the dining table, her phone in her hand, waiting for you patiently. She looked up and had to do a double-check. “Holy shit, Y/N!! You so freaking hot I would jump your bones, for fuck’s sake! Men are gonna lose their minds tonight, baby!”

You laughed and swatted her shoulder. “You’re the one speaking. Have you looked in the mirror? You’re breathtaking, babe!” She was wearing a tight black dress, with a little flare around her hips, which only intensified her hour-glass figure. “They’re gonna be drooling on you!”

You decided to go to the Compound, a new club opened in the middle of Brooklyn. You heard a lot of stories about how it’s just a pretence, so they had a place to launder the money, but you didn’t really care. You also heard that the club owned the one and only Bucky Barnes, a guy who had his fingers in pretty much everything illegal happening on the East Coast. From time to time, you thought how it was possible, that a man of his reputation hasn’t been arrested yet, but Mike told you that because of his monopoly. His cooperation with the police when it came to stuff being snuggled to the Us by someone else than him, they just let him run the show.  

He and his crew allegedly took care of most of the crime regarding women, and murders of innocent people in New York, and that’s why the police closed their eyes when it came to drugs and the other shit he was in.

But you didn’t care about any of that, mainly because you’d never meet this guy. Didn’t mean that just because you were going to a club supposedly owned by him, you’d have to meet him, or even if you met him, he would never notice you and you would never talk to him.

—-

When you came to the club, the line at the entrance was just long enough for you to be willing to stand there for a few minutes before they let you in. Were it any longer, you’d probably turn on your heels and go somewhere where it wasn’t this crowded.

The club was full, not to the point of it being uncomfortable, but enough that the air was tacky, and everywhere now and then someone would bump into you, trying to squeeze towards the bar. You were determined to have fun, so you tried to remain calm, even after what felt like 15th girl shoved you, because she saw someone she knew at the very opposite corner of the club.

You and Nat had few drinks, and even though you weren’t a newbie to drinking, this shit was strong, and because your choice of beverage was vodka with soda, it tended to go to your head a little faster. You knew you had to slow down a little, so you both went to the bar once again, but this time for a glass of water. It was only around 1 AM, and you knew that if you wanted to stay and have fun that night, you had to slow down with the drinks.  

As you were sipping on the water, you looked around the club. People were mostly dancing, lost in the rhythm of the music, unaware of what was happening around them. You liked to watch this kind of scenes. These people were happy and relaxed, and you always enjoyed the energy that emitted from them. You shifted your gaze towards the tables and saw few couples making out, some crews of both men and women, chatting and laughing mindlessly. In the furthest corner from you was the VIP section. When you came, it was unoccupied, so expected it to be the same now, but when you looked, you saw that there were now 5 guys sitting there.

They were too far away for you to see properly, but you thought you saw them all roaming their eyes across the room, their faces cold as ice. You shook your head and told yourself not to bother. What you couldn’t see was one of the guys intently watching you, licking his lips as he was doing so. You were beautiful, and he wanted to meet you. Now.

As you turned around, you found Natasha chatting with a cute guy. She was all smiles, she would throw her hair here and there, touching his arm, and all the charming things she would do every time she set her eyes on somebody.

You were about to order a drink once again when you suddenly felt somebody’s hand on the small of your back. You turned your head and saw that one of the security guys was standing right behind you, touching you.

“Can I help you?” You said, loud enough for him to hear you through the music. You cocked your head and waited for a response.

“I was told to come to fetch you, girl. Somebody would like to meet you.” He said, and his arm was suddenly on your elbow. This guy was obviously not taking no for an answer. You showed him your index finger to tell him to wait a second and tapped Nat’s shoulder. “I’m going away for a sec, but don’t worry, ok? Some guy wants to meet me, or something.” She just raised an eyebrow and let you go, knowing full well that you were an adult able to make your own decision. She just made a mental note to see where you were going and to not really let you go anywhere without her knowing it.

You nodded at the security guy, and he led you towards the VIP section you were looking at just a few moments ago. When you reached your destination, the guy in front of you, just showed you to go ahead, and you followed his orders.

You stood there, in front of 5 men you’ve never seen in your life. The music was a little quieter here, but still, nobody was talking. All of them were just watching you, their eyes roaming across your body, shamelessly stopping at your boobs.

You were feeling like you were being judged like they were deciding whether you were good enough to talk to them. And you didn’t have time nor energy for that.

“Am I here for a reason, or for you to just watch me? ‘Cause if that’s the case, I’m heading back there, and I’m gonna enjoy myself.”

“That so, doll?” The one seating in the middle said with a raised eyebrow and smirked playing on his mouth.

You just nodded curtly and waited for his next move. Who the hell did this smug motherfucker think he was? Huh!

“Good! Boys, make some space, I would like to get to know this beautiful woman, even though she’s got some mouth on her!” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him because he was just too much. He acted like a gangster… Wait a minute!

You cautiously sat down next to him, and he turned so he could face you. “What’s your name, beautiful?” The nicknames rolled off his tongue so easily, he must be used to calling all women that way. You took your time answering. If he was who you thought he was, you didn’t really need him knowing your name. So you decided for a little lie.

“Dita, and yours?” He smiled smugly, threw his arm around the cushion of the sofa you were sitting at. “I’m Bucky, doll, it’s really my pleasure to meet ya!” Ha! You thought. So it was him. You were contemplating whether to run away from this mobster or if you wanted to stay. But the looks he was giving you, the way he was biting his lip his eyes still locked in your, and the way his right hand was now resting on your thigh, this all send tingles to both your stomach and a little lowers.

He was a handsome guy, you had to give him that. He was chatting so easily, all smiles, hand squeezing your flesh, leaving you to crave more. What was more, he would order more drinks of your choice for you, so in an hour, or so, you could feel the familiar feeling of haze in your mind. You would lean into his touch more and more, enjoying the warmth that his body emitted. Your phone buzzed in your purse, and when you checked it, you realised that you had left Nat standing there, with a stranger.

Hey babe, just wanted to let you know that I’m going home with this guy, you ok? Having fun in the VIP?

You smiled and quickly typed your answer. Good for you, he was a cutie! I’m fine, don’t worry about me, Mr Important here is pretty easy on the eye too, think I’m gonna have a fun night. See ya tomorrow, love you!! xx

You put it away and smiled at Bucky sweetly. He handed you your drink, which you gave him to type your message correctly, and took a generous sip. A little drop of the poison stayed on your lips, and it didn’t escape Bucky’s attention. He swiped his thumb along your lower lip, wiping away the droplet, and then bringing the thumb to his mouth and putting it in his mouth. The sight of it all was so intense and giving off sexual vibes, that you shuddered involuntarily.

“What do you say we get out of here?” It was your turn to squeeze his thigh in confirmation, and Bucky helped you up, snaked his arm around your hip, bringing you closer to him. He led you out through the private exit, right towards the prepared black jeep. As soon as you were seated, Bucky was on you. He kissed you fervently, trying to touch as much of your skin as he could, but still leave the best to his apartment.

Warning: smut starting

The second he closed the door to his apartment, all bets were off. You were tugging at his shirt to pull it off him, to finally feel his skin against yours. He was doing the same to your dress and was much more successful at undressing you. You were left standing only in your underwear and high heels. Bucky took his time ogling your body. “Damn, Dita! You’re so fucking hot, come here, baby.” He all but growled at you, and you were more than happy to oblige, even though the fake name made you cringe a little.

His shirt went flying, and you set your job at unzipping his pants and pulling them off of him. You wanted to enjoy his body to the fullest, so you sank to your knees underneath him and cupped him in your hand through his boxers.

He groaned at sight in front of him. Beautiful woman, almost naked, was very willingly offering him a blowjob, and who was he to deny you. He let you strip him off his underwear and leave him completely naked in front of you. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. He might have been a feared mobster, but he was a sight for a sore eye! His member was more than average, proudly standing parallel to his abdomen. You were proud to be the cause of that. And you wanted more.

You spit in your hand, and took him firmly, stroking him teasingly, from top to bottom, stopping there to cup his balls and back up to wipe the leak coming from the head. You marvelled at the sight of in your hand. You smirked and took him in your mouth swiftly. Bucky tensed up and grabbed your hair in his hand, both to see your face and to be able to control your movement if needed. Bucky loved his control, and he wanted it all the time.

You wanted to tease him some more, but Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He pulled you towards him, not so you were choking on him, but enough for his cock to be comfortably in your mouth. You chuckled at his impatience but went with the flow.

You bobbed up and down, sucking intensely, not letting Bucky have a rest from the pleasure you were giving him. And when you were not sucking, you were licking and tracing the vein on his dick. You tried to take as much of him as possible, but you were still not able to take him fully even if you were gagging. Bucky was amazed by how easily you made it look. Most girls he’s been with weren’t that eager to give and were much rather on the receiving end of the pleasure, but you were good at this, and you knew it. Bucky wanted to stay like this forever. A girl on his feet, sucking him intently.

But he knew that if he wanted to keep his reputation, he needed to pull you off of him ASAP. Because if you continued at this speed, he would have come in your mouth in no time. He grabbed your chin and wiped away the saliva connecting you still to his achingly hard dick. You pouted when he did so, enjoying yourself too much. He laughed at you and raised you by your elbow.

“I know baby girl, I was loving it, but I would love to enjoy your pussy as well. Let’s get you to my bed, and I’m gonna let you experience the real show.”

God, he was smug! You just hoped he was as good as he thought he was.

He threw you on the mattress, and was immediately on you, kissing down your neck, nibbling at your soft skin, definitely leaving some marks for you to sport for next few days. He was unclasping your bra like a professional, with one hand, the other supporting his weight on top of you. As soon as you were free from the confines of your bra, he sucked on your nipples like a craved man. You were already writhing underneath him, the alcohol in your system making you all that much hornier- you could feel your panties being more soaked by every passing second.

His hand finally reached your soaked core, smirking at the wetness he found there. “Someone’s eager!” He mumbled against your nipples, still paying them the so needed attention. “Please, Bucky!” You were starting to be desperate. You wanted him inside you, like yesterday.

He ripped the panties from your body, leaving a pleasant sting on your skin. His skilled fingers finally found the place where he was needed the most, all moist and puffy, waiting for his member.

“I bet you could take me without any preparation, huh? You’re so wet for me, doll!” He inserted two of his fingers abruptly into you, making you moan out loud. You were feeling like a pornstar, and you were loving it.

“Bucky! God damn, please! Just fuck me already!” You grabbed his hand to stop his movement and to let him know just how serious you were!

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” He whispered, and prompted him on his elbows, guiding his cock to your aching core. “Aaaah!” You both moaned at the same moment, revelling in the fantastic feeling of him inside you.

“Fuck, you’re tight, doll! So god damn tight! Fucking love this pussy!” Bucky didn’t even know what he was saying, he just marvelled in the feeling of your velvet walls squeezing him. He could feel you were close already, the alcohol helping you with that, and he knew he wouldn’t last. The combination of the bj you’ve given him and your beautiful body and your tight walls was deadly.

He was thrusting into you relentlessly, taking your breath away and not letting your mind wander away from him. He was everywhere, and your senses were completely overwhelmed by him. You could feel him hitting your sweet spot over and over again, and before you knew it, the coil in your belly snapped, and you coming, mewling, crying, and scratching Bucky’s back in complete pleasure. Bucky sank his teeth in your shoulder, thrust half a dozen times, and came with a shout.

Warning ending

You were both panting messes, laying there, in Bucky’s bed, enjoying the post-coital bliss. You could hear his breath evening out, and suddenly, the realisation hit you. You were in Bucky Barnes’ bed, you just had sex with him, and you suddenly didn’t know what to do. You had probably the best sex of your life, no shame to admit that, but you knew very well that this was a one-time thing, and that you had to get away from there.

You didn’t want to be one of Bucky’s flings, or as you heard someone talking about the girls- his monthly prizes. You loved yourself too much to be just somebody’s prize, for him to kick you out the second he got bored with you. You waited another few minutes, listening to Buck’s breath, and when he started to snore lightly, you decided it was your chance.

You quietly took all of your clothes, hastily put them on, and pretty much ran from the apartment. The sun was already getting up, but you didn’t pay it too much attention. You just wanted to get home, sleep this crazy night away, and keep it only in your memory. You knew that there wasn’t much Bucky could work with if he wanted to find you, but you highly doubted he would go to some measures to look for you. You were just good sex for him, just like he was for you.

When Bucky woke up around lunch, he was facing away from where he last left you. He liked you, and he definitely liked having sex with you. You would do a good monthly girl, and he couldn’t wait to do more with you, enjoy your body until it was completely spent.

He smiled when he imagined what you probably looked like, lipstick smeared, his marks covering your skin, which would be still flushed from all the bliss. But when he turned around, he was met with empty sheets. He frowned, and got up promptly, roaming his apartment to see if you were hiding somewhere, playing some games with him. But when he reached the last door, and you were still nowhere to find, Bucky realised what was happening. You left without a word to him, which was something no women has ever done to him. He could feel his control slipping away, and he disliked the feeling it left him. He actually enjoyed your company last night and wanted more of it, but now he couldn’t. And that made him want you even more.

Next Chapter >

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[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Nine: A Cat Walks By ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Neji, Uchiha Manami ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: We’re Not in Konoha Anymore... ] [ AO3 Link ]

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Normally, the sight wouldn’t really catch his attention. Bustling as the city is, there are still a share of stray animals out and about, looking for scraps or friendly hands to offer tidbits. Maybe even feel generous enough to take them home.

But something about this just feels...off.

Doing his homework as he always does at the little table outside the cafe, Sasuke finds himself tasked with a reading passage from his literature class. Boring, but at least it’s not that hard. Blinking owlishly as he takes in the text on the page, his lackluster gaze is immediately tempted by something more intriguing: movement.

Glancing up, chin resting against a curled fist, he takes notice of...a long-haired brown cat. It saunters along the lip of the opposing sidewalk, which is surprisingly empty for early afternoon. The tall buildings that flank both sides mean there’s not a scrap of sunshine despite the strip of clear blue sky above them. In the lurking grey down below, nothing really seems out of place.

And yet…

Watching it curiously, Sasuke sees as it sits just above a storm drain, sweeping tail flicking idly, paws aligned neatly with the edge. It almost seems like it’s...waiting for something. Furtive eyes - which Sasuke notices are a strange, pale color he can’t quite put a name to - seem to glance side to side.

...do cats usually do that?

Frowning, Sasuke just...stares as the cat continues to sit, eyeing its surroundings so...oddly grumpily.

And then, without warning, it gets up...and keeps walking right by the cafe.

For a moment, Sasuke weighs his choices. He can...pretend that didn’t seem as odd as it did, and just sit here and keep doing his homework. Or...he can get up and follow it.

Chewing his lip, he glances in where his aunt is still working. Surely she won’t mind, right…?

“I’ll be right back!” he calls just in case, not giving her a chance to refuse him. His book closes with a slap, fleeing his table and taking off down the road.

By now, the feline has slipped around a corner, Sasuke skidding to slow and trying to find it. A more trafficky route, pedestrians block a great deal of his view, but...there! Weaving around ignorant legs, the cat keeps going, oddly calm in the sea of human feet.

That only drives Sasuke further. Apologizing as he pushes his way through the crowds, he struggles to keep the animal in his line of sight until it takes yet another turn into a narrow alley.

Peering into it...Sasuke finds it empty.

A bit out of breath, his brow furrows. Where did it go…? There’s no turns, and it couldn’t have made it around another corner, could it? His eyes flicker up, wondering if it climbed something.

And then he hears a clack.

Perking, Sasuke eases into the narrow gap between the buildings. It’s oddly cold, and he feels the hairs on his neck and arms stand on end.

And then, he spies a wrought iron gate tucked into an inlet he couldn’t see from the street. That must have been what he heard. Did someone let the cat through…?

“...anything?”

He freezes. Someone’s talking…!

“No, nothing. Seems we’ve been stood up again.”

A delicate sigh permeates the quiet. “Well...at least it w-wasn’t a trap.”

“Which is why I insisted on going first. After last time -”

“I know, I...I know. But we have to make money somehow...I don’t want to have to fish through any more dumpsters…”

“I’ll keep stealing if I must.”

“But -!”

“It’s wrong, but we must take care of ourselves. Until more work can be found. I won’t let you come to harm just because this city is -”

As he struggles to see who’s beyond the gate, Sasuke flinches as his foot nudges a bottle. Beyond, he barely makes out a pair of silhouettes: one of a child his age, and another of a cat.

But in the next moment, it changes. Suddenly, the cat is gone. And in its place is...another child? They posture protectively in front of their companion, who quails back in surprise. “Who’s there?!”

At the harsh, hissing tone, Sasuke flinches. How can he explain…?

“Neji, i-it’s okay.”

“But -?”

“Look, they’re just a kid!” There’s a pause. “...maybe...you were followed?”

“Impossible,” the first voice scoffs.

“I...saw a cat acting strange,” Sasuke decides to offer. Being truthful should help, right…? “I just...wanted to see what it was doing.”

The silence sours only to be broken by a wind-chime giggle. “...seems you were followed,” the more feminine voice teases, earning a scoff.

“I’m sorry, I...didn’t mean to bother anyone. Did you guys see that cat? Or where it went?”

Another pause. “He’s, um…” The voice hesitates, and then someone steps forward. A girl, around Sasuke’s own age of thirteen. Dark hair cut short, she has the same pale eyes as that cat! “He’s here.”

“Hinata, I don’t think -?”

“I-it’s fine, Neji. Come on.”

Behind her, the other figure lingers...and then steps forward. Pale eyes, and...long brown hair…

...wait…

Sasuke balks in surprise. “...y...you’re the cat?!”

Arms folding defensively, the boy - he...thinks they’re a boy? - narrows his gaze heatedly. “Nosy brat, aren’t you?”

In spite of himself, Sasuke bristles. “Well it - er, you - were acting funny!”

“It was still none of your business.”

“Neji was o-out on my behalf!” the girl cuts in, physically stepping between the two nervously. “He’s...he’s my familiar. And...my cousin.”

Sasuke blinks in disbelief. “...what?”

“It, well...i-it’s a long story. You see, we -”

“Don’t tell him anything, Hinata,” the one called Neji interrupts sharply, an arm held out to blockade her. “We can’t trust him!”

“But -?”

“I’m not gonna hurt anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sasuke retorts, arms folding. “But it is weird a couple of kids are out here alone. Let alone...changing into cats, and going through people’s garbage. You know that can get you in trouble, right?”

At that, Neji’s face alights an embarrassed red. “How much did you -?!”

“Neji, please,” Hinata counters softly, instantly quieting him. “...maybe...m-maybe he can help…?”

“Him? Help? How?”

“Tell me what you’re doing out here first,” the Uchiha mutters.

The pale-eyed pair exchange a glance...and then Neji concedes with a short sigh, retreating.

“...we come from a long line of witches and...companions,” Hinata begins softly. “One side of the family being gifted in magic, and...the other side meant to protect them. I’m from the f-former, and...Neji is from the latter. For a long time, we would offer our skills in exchange for money, but…” She wilts. “...anymore, we’re treated more like criminals.”

“Lady Hinata was attacked last week,” Neji cuts in, tone hot with anger. “Someone lied, saying they wanted our help, only to try and hurt her. We barely escaped…”

“We offer h-honest work for honest pay,” she mumbles, wilting. “But not everyone s-sees it that way. So we haven’t been able to f-fend for ourselves.”

“Can’t you go home…?” Sasuke asks, confused. “Why are you out here on your own? Aren’t you my age…?”

“We’re meant to go out on our own for a year at thirteen,” Neji explains. “It’s a kind of...training. Surviving on our talents. But that’s an old tradition, no longer suited for a changing world…”

“M-my father won’t let us return until the year is o-over.” Hinata’s tone starts to bubble, threatening to cry.

“Hiashi is a cruel man,” Neji confirms, tone softening as he puts an arm around his cousin’s shoulders. “So we’ve been making due however we can...even if it’s not pretty. Our pride can survive what our stomachs cannot.”

Sasuke, all the while, slowly looks more and more ill at ease. Sending children out on their own? At this age, and for an entire year with no help?! Given the struggles he’s faced himself - losing his parents years ago, his widowed aunt taking in him and his brother on top of her own son and disability - he can understand struggle, but this…?

Looking the pair over, he then makes up his mind, jaw setting. A hand reaches out and takes Hinata’s, much to both of the cousins’ surprise. “C’mon.”

“But -?”

“C’mon!” Offering no other explanation, he starts towing her along. Neji, shocked, shrinks back into his familiar form, tucked safely in Hinata’s remaining arm as she stumbles after Sasuke.

Back down the street they go, around corners until they see the cafe. It’s getting late, but the doors are still open. “Aunty Manami!” Sasuke calls.

Crutch under one arm, the woman makes her way outside, expression stricken and then wilting with relief. “There you are! Where’ve you been?”

“Uh...long story. Hey, is the kitchen still serving?”

“Yeah, for another half an hour - you hungry?”

“No, but...my friends are.” He then pulls Hinata up beside him, the girl pink and clearly flustered.

“...oh!” Manami blinks. “Well, sure. What’ll you have, sweetie?”

“...I-I -?”

“Can she look at a menu, first?”

“Yeah, one sec.”

As she disappears to fetch one, Sasuke guides Hinata to his table. “What are you doing?” she whispers harshly. “I...I don’t have any money!”

“I’ve got an allowance,” Sasuke counters.

“But -!”

“It’s fine. I never spend it, anyway.”

Floundering for words, Hinata wilts as Manami reappears.

“Here you go, kiddo.”

“...thank you.”

Smiling, the woman then glances to her nephew, jerking her head to make him follow her back inside. “So...what’s really going on here, Sasuke?”

“...she got kicked out of her house.”

“What?!”

Without revealing too much, Sasuke spins a half-truth. “I just...wanted to help. She’s been trying to find work but no one’ll take her on.”

Sighing deeply, Manami watches Hinata through the window, Neji standing his front paws on the table from her lap and seeming to read alongside her. “...I have an idea.”

“Wait, what -?”

Gesturing for him to be quiet, Manami heads back outside, startling Hinata as she approaches. The pair talk, voices too muffled for Sasuke to hear. But then the girl threatens to break down into tears again, Neji perching protectively around the back of her neck as she jumps up and latches onto Manami tightly.

What the…?

It then seems like Hinata places her order, and Manami steps back in, looking smug.

“...what did you do?”

“I offered her a job.”

“What?! But -?”

“It’s fine. There’s an empty room over the storage building she can use. I need someone quicker on their feet than me, anyway. She can be my missing foot,” she jokes, swinging her half-missing leg idly.

“...you really…?”

“I know we’re struggling, but one more mouth to feed won’t break us,” Manami insists, waving aside his concern. “For now, she needs something to eat. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”

At that, Sasuke can’t help a small feeling of guilt. Technically, including Neji, there’s two more mouths...but hopefully it won’t make too big of a difference. He’ll just...defer his allowance back to his aunt for a while. Without her knowing, of course.

He doesn’t need it.

Heading back outside, Sasuke gives a sheepish smile. “...well, guess that’s happening, huh?”

Hopping back to her feet, Hinata seems to fight back tears. “...thank you…!”

“It’s okay, really -”

“No...t-this is…” Lacking the words, she just bows her head shyly.

Atop her shoulders, Neji blinks slowly.

“...well...consider it payback for being nosy,” Sasuke then offers nonchalantly, glancing aside. “Guess you have Neji to thank, really.”

Straightening, Hinata blinks before giggling, a hand reaching up to scritch at his ears. “...yeah. I do.”

     Welp, this is...technically yesterday’s prompt, I’m behind. My darn toothache just got the better of me u_u Not sure if I’ll catch up tonight but I’ll try!      Anyway, if anyone can guess what movie this is based off of, you get ten internet points because it is my all-time favorite movie xD A bit changed around, but...well, I didn’t want to copy it exactly. But I’m still calling this my crossover verse for lack of anything else that fits lol      Manami is an OC of mine, Mikoto’s older sister and Shisui’s mother! In canon she loses half of a leg during the Nine Tails’ attack, so...I usually have her that way in other universes, too. She’s a very sweet bean, I love her ;w; In modern verses she usually takes Itachi and Sasuke in after their parents’ death, like here.      Anywho! Gonna take a break and see if I can must up another one before passing out for the night lol - if not, I’ll just try again tomorrow xD Thanks for reading!

[wetsteve3]

The bore and stroke of this monster are 94.9x120mm, giving 1700cc, with a compression ratio of 6.6:1. Combine this with the blower's nominal delivery volume, this would give a corrected compression at maximum revs of 15.8:1 ! How can this work, especially with the carburettor setup, which we found to be for petrol rather than alcohol? The 'racing' cam timing holds the clue; the supercharger's efficiency, combined with extensive valve-overlap from the engine's unblown racing days. An 8.8mm valve lift on both exhaust and inlet valves at maximum 'bump' leaves about 4mm of valve opening at TDC! The incoming charge, blown past the partially open valves, would theoretically keep the exhaust valve in particular just a bit cooler, helping it survive in the very harsh combustion environment with such a high C.R. The gearing pencils out for 260km/hr @ 5000rpm (156mph) in third gear. Wheelspin above 120mph probably would keep the maximum a bit below the theoretical top speed. Super Kim uses a three-speed Sturmey-Archer 'Super Heavyweight' gearbox, one of six ever built for record-breaking, and I believe, the only on not in use on a Brough Superior. Was it originally specified thus from Freddie Barnes? We don't know yet, as we don't know whether the machine was purchased new from Zenith, or in 'used' condition after a few seasons at Brooklands. At maximum revs of 5000rpm, the piston speed is 20m/sec, a figure typically recommended as safe for racing in the engineering literature. The extensive piston drilling is a relic of 'Teens and Twenty's racing practice, when lightness was a premium (especially during the days of cast-iron pistons!), and engine revs were fairly low. Such drilling was also typical on connecting rods, and just about any other moving part in the engine! By the 1930's, as metallurgy improved, such 'cheesework' became obsolete and unneccessary. The pistons in Super Kim are clearly made in-house, as they're of a design I haven't seen, although it's possible, with such a large bore, that they came from a car. Overall weight dry is 215kg (473lbs), which is really light for a Land Speed Record machine of this capacity; weight per se isn't a factor in top speed, only acceleration, and in fact, greater weight is an advantage in keeping the motorcycle stable, with both wheels on the ground, and helps minimize wheelspin. Having ridden rigid-frame racers at well over 100mph, I can attest that they aviate! A little avoirdupois certainly couldn't hurt, unless there is limited space possible for a straight-line run - a point completely relevant to a speed record in Argentina, which has few roads (or beaches) capable of a full-throttle, multi-mile record attempt. Quick acceleration might have been essential if only 3 or 4 miles of smooth straightaway were available. During his rebuild, Gernot replaced the half-time pinion in the cambox, and the right-hand main bearing, and all the ball races in the drive side, along with the chains, tires, valves and springs, ignition cable, and about a dozen smaller parts. The camshaft and roller followers were refaced. All of this work took 320 hours, which includes 120 hours of deep cleaning and rust removal! Asked if there were any surprises, Gernot says, "Suprises? The capacity, sure. Hmmm....and the twisted history, that is absolutely fascinating to me. That there is contact with the family. And so much appreciation for my work." And how does it SOUND? "Like a tractor on drugs; on revs, it lets out a ROAR..." He adds, "The most important thing is: it runs, despite so many experts, who claimed it would not, and looks more like a racingman's hot dream. The inspection showed that it was used, at least for testing. There were traces of use on the cylinder walls, oil carbon here and there, and in the gearbox there was heavy wear between the mainshaft and the tubular shaft where the sprocket sits. This odd plate, that clamps the gearbox at the pin, were the kick start was once located, was not part of the original design." To this I would add my own story with Super Kim. I was first introduced to photographs of the bike at Jay Leno's garage, 18 years ago. The seller, Hector Mendizabal (r.i.p.), claimed it was a Brough Superior, and it clearly wasn't, but we didn't at the time know what exactly it was. A bit of research on my own revealed it to be a highly modified Zenith, but the asking price was over the top at the time. By coincidence, I purchased a BS SS100 engine from Mendizabal a year later, and the Zenith came up again, still over-priced. I purchased the machine 11 years ago from the man who actually posessed Super Kim, for half the original price, after a tip-off from a Brough-owning friend in Germany. I was warned at the time by 'experts' that Super Kim was a fake, a lash-up, a South American piece of trash, not worth the money, and that I would surely be defrauded at best, possibly shot at worst! I've spoken on this site before about the 'aura of fraudulence' around machines from South America, which hovers in the mind of North American and European bike collectors. That mindset persists to this day, and is evidenced by Gernot's own comments above regarding 'doubting experts'.

[fizzpixie]

LeviHan Highschool AU

Requested from @appleblondie0397

Is it bad that I initially imagined Levi as a hot senior boy and Hanji as one of  those lil freshman girls that he has a huge thing for? I’ve been seeing memes floating around about that lately.

They aren’t in this story tho I swear

I’m very excited about this prompt, thank u so much. This ended up being a lengthy monster because I got super into it so I kinda cut the ending a little short. 

Levihan Highschool AU Title: Prompted Request: Levihan with the context of them being in highschool and levi and hanji having a sleepover at Levi's place (doesn't have to be anything rated r or sexual) Summary: Hanji (a junior) is head over heels for the short boy (a senior) she sits behind in her literature class. Their friendship blossoms over the course of the semester, until one day he invites her over to work on an essay together. Little does she know, he has been paying close attention to her, too. Word count: 2882 Warnings: very seldom vulgar language, mentions of sexual themes (none related to levi or hanji)

“And remember, this is all due by next wednesday. Late work is unacceptable.” Mr. Pixis exaggerated as he passed out papers to the front row, having the front students cascade the worksheets down to the people behind them. Levi groaned as he slipped a sheet for himself when the pile came his way and handed the stack behind him without turning around. Hanji subconsciously took a sheet and passed on the stack. She stopped scribbling in her notebook, glanced at it, and then tapped Levi’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what did he say? I wasn’t paying attention.” Levi rolled his eyes.

“This sheet has the prompt for our next essay, it’s due this upcoming Wednesday--,” He paused for a fleeting moment after processing what she had said, then swiveled around to give Hanji a quizzical look, “now what on god’s green earth could possibly keep four-eyes from paying attention in class?” She was quick to cover the contents of her notebook from his unwelcome eyes.

“None ya.” She promptly responded. Hanji was pretty protective of her journal that she used for her advanced placement literature class. Inside she had spent a collection of hours doodling Levi’s name in little hearts within the page margins. Levi had tried to peek at it before, but to no avail. Hanji would always snatch it from his view and say ‘none ya’ as in ‘none ya business’.

Their literature class was small, with maybe a little less than twenty people in it. Their mutual best friend, Erwin, sat in the farthest front corner. There was no seating chart on the first day of school but it was created as soon as everyone picked a seat. Erwin showed up late for class on the first day of school. Hanji, on the other hand, strategically showed up to class as early as she could, then proceeded to drum up mindless conversation with the teacher until a specific person showed up for class. When Levi finally crossed the classroom’s threshold right before class started, Hanji prayed to the gods that he wouldn’t pick a spot where she couldn’t sit next to him. She abruptly ended her conversation with Mr. Pixis just to see Levi had picked an obscure spot completely shrouded by other classmates. However, she was fortunate enough to snag a spot directly behind him. It wasn’t ideal. She was typically the type of student to sit front and center to help her pay attention and perform better in class. But she had been eyeing Levi in the hallways all of last semester. When she found out they finally had a class together -- a literature class, of all things-- she was beyond thrilled.

Yes, Levi was short. But he was still entirely masculine. He fashioned a more casual-gothic look. Hanji couldn’t tell if it was unintentional or not, because naturally, his hair was darker colored and he was always a bit more pale with heavy eye bags. Though he did seem to have a preference for the color black. He often wore black skinny jeans and boots, but when he wasn’t wearing a casual t-shirt he would sometimes pose in a nice button up or polo. Whenever Levi wore his jean jacket, Hanji would melt. But despite her admiration towards the quiet boy in black, she had a deep sinking feeling that she wasn’t his type. It seemed unorthodox for an ambitious, overly intelligent, and reckless girl who followed her impulses to be his type. Not to forget, she was entirely loud and obnoxious. He seemed to like quiet and logical girls who kept to themselves.

They were coming up to the end of the second semester for summertime. Levi and Hanji’s friendship grew exponentially when they first met in Mr. Pixis’ notorious class of literature, all with Hanji’s efforts of initiating conversation with him. This was one of their final essays before their upcoming final. 

“Alright. Well, Miss. ‘None ya’, I’m getting some food with Erwin after class and then going home to start this essay. Would you like to come over to my place to work together?”

Hanji felt her heart skip a beat.

“Would Erwin be there?” Surely this was too good to be true.

“Nah. He told Marie that he would hangout with her tonight to catch up on homework. We both know what they’re actually gonna do, though.” It wasn’t. Hanji tried to act casual.

“I mean like, yeah, I’d be down to come over.” Levi gave a small nod with his head. The bell then suddenly blared, signaling the end of the school day. Levi stood and neatly tucked the sheet in between some folders in his backpack.

“Cool. You have my number, I’ll text you the address and you can come over around 9 or so.” Hanji glanced up at him.

“9? Doesn’t that seem a little late?”

“Yeah, my bad. I have a lot of errands to run after getting food with Erwin so I’m not free until then. Is that okay?” It wasn’t okay. Hanji prefered to go to bed at 10 pm sharp so she could wake up at 6 am and get a full eight hours of sleep.

“Yeah, that’s fine!” It didn’t matter. She had never been over to his house before. Looking back on it, she didn’t recall anyone ever going to his place before. Not even Erwin. She could afford to lose one night of a full eight hours.

***

Hanji parked in front of a busted apartment on the outskirts of downtown. She noticed how Levi lived an astonishing distance away from school. She checked her text again to reread the address, then scanned the address plate etched into the brick. She was definitely at the right place. She tried the front door of the apartment-- which are traditionally supposed to be locked at all times for residents safety-- that slid open with ease. Hanji also noted the gaping hole shattered in the glass on the side panel by the door, as  if someone had kicked it.

‘Okay, third floor, apartment 304.’ She anxiously thought to herself. With each creaky step up, her heart rate only got faster. The lights flickered inconsistently over her head, buzzing as if they would burn out any second. ‘I can do this. We’re literally just doing homework. I like homework. It will be fun.’ She tried to calm herself as she ambled down the dim hallway and approached his apartment.

She stood in front of the door for several seconds before knocking. She examined the walls and floors of the hallway. The walls were white and dirty with a checkered patterned accent on the baseboard. The floor was concrete. It felt like a poorly kept, horror movie hospital.

As she raised her arm to knock, the door suddenly swung open. Levi stood there with a large trash bag slung over his shoulder.

“Oh, hey Hanji. How long were you there for?” He paused, “actually, nevermind. I need to take out the trash really quick, but feel free to let yourself in and sit on the couch. I’ll be back in a sec.” He moved passed her and trudged down the hallway. Hanji didn’t say anything, and watched him as he disappeared beneath the stairs below. When she was by herself, she turned to face the entrance to his place and with a cautious step, she entered.

It wasn’t very big at all. At first she thought it was a studio apartment, but she then noticed a narrow hallways that branched off into three rooms with closed doors. She located the couch and sat down, setting her backpack to her side. To her surprise, the apartment was spotless. The floor was a dark grey carpet that seemed permanently stained with age, but there was a rug thoughtfully placed and vacuumed in the center of the room. The sink was free of dishes, the few pictures and decorations on the walls were symmetrical and clean. Even the kitchen counters had been polished. To her surprise, there were two glasses of water on the coffee table, resting on home-made cork coasters.

‘He got me water. That’s very nice of him’. It was a basic courtesy, but she appreciated it. She gingerly picked up the glass and took a sip as she examined more of the apartment. The walls were a dark green with wooden shelves that hung up and displayed odd ornaments, such as old weapons and antiques. As she continued to observe the base of the apartment, her eyes landed on a picture that was not like the rest. It was a portrait. A smaller portrait of a woman with raven hair and grey eyes. Despite looking tired, she was smiling. She seemed very happy, and she was incredibly beautiful. She also had a striking resemblance to Levi.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Levi came back into the room unannounced.

“Sorry about that. My uncle didn’t take out the trash like he said he would. He’s a bum.” Hanji chuckled.

“No it’s totally cool. I was just chillin’ here. Thank you for the water.” She remarked. He replied with a solemn ‘mhmm’ then found a spot next to her on the polyester couch. With how close they were sitting together, Hanji nearly died. He pulled out a cheap laptop from his backpack and proceeded to log on as he simultaneously checked the sheet with the prompt.

“Okay, so the prompt is ‘Life is full of opinions and people differing from you. Everyone has and will encounter times when someone they meet has a different perspective from them. What are  the most effective ways to communicate ideas? What do you do when those ideas aren’t relayed properly, then argumentation breaks out? When was there a time you met someone completely different from yourself? How did it turn out?’” He began to read, but Hanji had zoned out as he was speaking, staring intently at the portrait of the mystery woman.

“Who’s that?” Hanji blurted out and pointed at the frame. Levi glanced up at her.

“Who’s what?”

“That. That woman on the wall.” He followed her finger to the portrait.

“Oh. That’s my mom. My uncle happened to have an old photo of her, we don’t have many of them.” It made sense. He was a spitting image of her.

“She’s very beautiful. Will I ever get to meet her?” Levi responded bluntly.

“She’s dead.” Hanji felt the blood leave her face, making her grow pale.

“Oh my god, Levi I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to--”

“Don’t be,” he started, “she’s been dead for a long time. I think I was like, what, four years old? I don’t remember. Either way, I’ve healed from it now,” Hanji frowned. Even if what he said could be true, there is permanent damage when missing an important figure in your life. And it’s affecting him whether he knew it or not, “Anyway, we should continue. It’s getting late.

***

The antique clock on the wall read 12:04 pm. They had spent at least a full hour writing, but the last two hours were spent vicariously sharing stories and talking about unrelated things to the prompt. Hanji was learning a plethora of new things about Levi, and she couldn’t be more satisfied. She felt sadness swell in her heart when she peered at the clock. Her eyes were growing heavy, and she knew she couldn’t write anymore for the night. Nothing when she was tired was as quality as she would like. Levi was continuing a story.

“But yeah, my uncle can be an asshole sometimes. There was this one time when he stole my computer to watch porn on some sketch website and he infected it with 12 different viruses. It also wasn’t cool because he didn’t tell me he used it for porn, so when I opened my computer at school--”

“Hey Levi? I’m sorry to interrupt, but I really think I should go home, it’s really late and I’m incredibly tired.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” He glanced at the window to see rain pouring down outside. They didn’t notice it started to storm while they were writing.

Hanji packed her things slowly to relish her final moments in his apartment. She wasn’t too sure if she’d ever be here again. When she finished, she approached the door. Levi saw her out.

“Thanks for coming over, I think we got a lot done.” He thanked her as she stood at the door.

“Yeah, I think so too. Thanks for having me.”

***

Hanji dashed to her car parked on the side of the road to avoid getting wet.

‘I knew I shoulda got my keys out before going outside’ She scolded herself mentally as she desperately fished in her pocket to find her car keys, only to notice they weren’t there. She gave up trying to do everything with haste, being that she was already soaking wet. She knelt down to rummage through her backpack, but they didn’t seem to be there, either.

‘Maybe I left them in his apartment?’ She started to question herself as she peered inside her car window. She sighed in disbelief. She had locked her car keys inside of her car. The keys mocked her as they sat in perfect view on the passenger seat. Hanji, not really knowing what to do, took a slow walk of shame back inside the apartment to tell Levi. She trudged up the stairs and to room 304. She knocked quietly. Levi opened the door pretty quick with a confused look apparent in the bend of his brow as he observed her standing there, completely drenched.

“Is something wrong Hanji? Did you leave your keys here or something?” Hanji sighed.

“I wish. I locked them in my car…” She took a beat to think about what to say next. She didn’t think about what to ask him while she was walking up the stairs, “could you maybe drive me home?” Levi shook his head.

“That would be dumb. It’s pretty late and I know you get up in like 5 hours. Why don’t you just spend the night?”

Hanji had to take a second to process what he had said. Then another second.

“Your uncle wouldn’t mind?”

“Kenny isn’t home. He won’t be until tomorrow.” Hanji toyed with the idea in her head. She absolutely wanted to, more than anything. She didn’t even bother with the pros and cons, she just went with her impulsive gut.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

***

“Here, you can sleep in my bed. I’m familiar with the couch we have, anyway,” He guided Hanji through the hallway into the door on the right, “the bathroom is across the hall. The closed door at the end is Kenny’s room, don’t go in there,” He continued to instruct, “If you need anything let me know.” He handed her a small stack of dry clothes. Hanji set her bag down on the floor. His room was like the rest of the  place -- spotless, but a little worn with time.

“I feel bad that you’re sleeping on the couch.” Hanji started.

“Don’t,” he paused for a moment. They shared the silence for a beat, “but keep in mind, I don't have to use the couch.” Hanji didn’t physically react to his proposal, but felt like her stomach was knotting itself.

“You mean like, sharing the bed?” Levi scoffed.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, four-eyes. Yes, we can in fact share the bed. There are no physical limitations to us sharing a twin sized bed--”

“Oh, shut up. I know there aren’t any physical barriers, but it just feels, I don’t know, intimate.” Hanji felt her face going pale. She was making a fool out of herself. Levi crossed his arms, with the faintest shit-eating grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Oh, darn. Now what ever will we do? We don’t have to, of course. It’s just a suggestion.” He reminded her. Hanji didn’t want to give herself time to think about it, knowing she would over analyze the situation. It was just a night of sleep.

***

Underneath the sheets, Hanji curled up into a ball. Levi was on the other side of her, their backs touching each other as they were facing away from each other on the tight bed.

“Thank you for the dry clothes.” She said as they lay in the darkness in silence for a little while. She was sporting a pair of his old grey sweat shorts and a baggy band t shirt.

“Yeah, I didn’t want you getting my bed all wet.” She was aware. But despite being in dry clothes and wrapped in sheets, she was shivering cold. Levi could feel her body tremble next to his.

Without a word, Levi rolled over so he was facing her back, and slowly snaked one arm over her waist and another underneath her pillow to wrap himself onto her. Hanji completely froze at the abrupt feeling of warmth pressing onto her back and legs. Levi noticed her quivers completely cease.

“Are you okay with this?” Hanji noted how he noticed she was cold. She didn’t smile, but instead felt her arm search for his, lacing her fingers with his warm hand. She was entirely grateful.

“Yes. Definitely.”

[shadowling-guistical]

The University Chronicles

Professor Logan Hart: Strict with a mind as sharp as his cheekbones.

Dr. Roman Prince: Charming and too chipper for a 8 am lecture.

Patton Hart: Sunshine personified and has more Bachelor Degrees than you thought possible.

Finally, Dr. Virgil Sanders: Sarcastic and hates presentations even more than the students themselves. -- A collection of oneshots, drabbles and everything in between exploring their lives together as friends (or maybe something more) and fellow faculty in the same university. Some told from their perspectives and some from others.

Alternatively, the Sanders Sides Academia AU nobody asked for.

CHAPTER 1: Brand New Day (Part 1)

7:25am

The early morning sunlight was peering through the curtains of a simple yet sizeable apartment belonging to one Virgil Sanders. Below, there was already sounds of a city slowly coming to life.

The sole occupant of the apartment was situated at his breakfast table, tuning out the morning hustle and bustle in the background. Virgil sometimes glanced up at the television muted in the background. It was showing the morning news that he made no indication of even actively following. With a warm mug of coffee in front of him, the young man was enjoying the morning solace just the way he liked it. He had hair dyed in dark purple and was already dressed. A dark plum leather satchel bag laid against his shoes ready to be grabbed at a moment’s notice.

He took a few more sips of his coffee, the invigorating contents slowly making Virgil more awake. As always, he starts his mornings early (He was awake for a few hours already) and it showed. There was no mistaking the distinct eye bags that he has despite him using some makeup. He had long given up on looking ‘fresh faced’. He did, however put some eyeshadow on that became a sort of trademark for him.

What can he do? Those eyebags were there during his adolescent days of writing poem after poem by the light of his table lamp and they were still most certainly there now, years later in adulthood. The only difference is that now, he’s in the same dreary lighting grading poem after poem. So it was safe for Virgil to say that it was definitely there to stay.

Virgil let himself make a mental checklist about the things that he needed to get done over the sink. While his hands worked near automatically at rinsing and drying his mug, his mind was whirring with his class schedule, syllabuses, and lunch plans. This was habit that both him and his twin picked up that had helped him not feel so anxious about a full day and his twin to plan out his daily life.

Moments later, the vibration of the phone in his pocket prompted him to snap out of his mental planning.

Virgil glanced at the caller ID (A single emoji of a crown) before answering. A voice that was much too bright and energetic for the rather early morning spoke up.

“Good morning, Hot Topic! I’m downstairs,”

“Mornin’ Sir Sing-a-lot.” Virgil said, much less chipper, “Wait a sec, I’ll be down,”

By the time his watch ticked to 7am Virgil was already out of his apartment, the door locked and him somewhat ready to face the day. Starting with dealing with his (endearing) morning person of a colleague, Disney songs while carpooling and all.

8:47am

Roman Prince by all accounts considered himself as someone who loved teaching. The youth is something he finds both awe and excitement in, both in their curiosity and their untapped potential. He quoted that as the reason for which he became an educator- ‘To introduce fresh eyed youth to the wonders that is literature and help them achieve their glory in life’

That, and, where else can he make people sit down, stay put and sit through him talking about Shakespeare for a whole two hours? The job was almost made for him.

In short, Roman was excited to begin another new academic year.

He did not deny himself the fact that he was pleased and everything was looking good so far. Already, there was a sizeable amount of students in front of him, scattered in clusters amongst the seating. The vast lecture hall he was using for this class was slowly going to be filled to the brim, if the class list he had were any indication.

There was still time, and Roman knew that students were trickling in with groups of twos or threes. Their chatter was like a low buzz in the background. It got louder with more students entering the hall. Roman’s focus remained on his laptop, going through the syllabus he had came up for that year with his friend and colleague one last time.  

As always, Roman would begin their first class with things such as introduction to the syllabus, assignments, and class policy. It was only the first day and Roman just wanted to get them acquainted with the subject. Nothing too heavy, in his opinion.

A few minutes past nine, Roman got up and planted himself in front of the whiteboard. With marker in hand, he began to scrawl on it with a large, loopy cursive script.

DR. ROMAN PRINCE

The students were much silent now, paying rapt attention to the impeccably dressed man in front of them.

“Good Morning class!!” Roman turned to face them, smiling wide. “I will be your lecturer for this course, an Introduction to Drama and Poetry. As you may or may not know, there is another lecturer handling the other section. So, if I’m not available, he would be taking over,”  Roman continued. “If you need any help with your assignments or you just need further input, you may also see him. I shall give you contact details for the both of us at the end of the class. Now…!-”

His smile brightened more, if that was even possible.

“-Shall we begin?”

AO3 Link

Headcanon List 

> CHAPTER 2: Brand New Day (Part 2)