#like in some ways our classroom is sort of a community room bc we have the cleaning supplies and washing machine & stuff

[caspersscareschool]

the people in the daycare next door to my school think it's awesome to come into our classroom all hours of the day without asking and talk on the phone in one of our chairs for hours and ignore me trying to clean or set up the room Around their bodies or saying Hi excuse me um im not sure if you noticed but this is a fucking preschool that operates between the hours 8am-5pm and we have kids coming right now please leave. and then they're like annoyed that im kicking them out in order to use the classroom as a classroom. it's literally only our room that they do this in they respect the space of every other teacher in the building

[tsukkisbean]

never cold | third year boyfriend!tsukishima x gn!reader

genre: fluff and angst

warnings: jealousy, poor communication

word count: 4.0k

summary:  you’ve always loved valentine’s day and believed it was a holiday worth  celebrating and this year you have tsukishima to spend it with.  however, much to your disappointment he tells you that he thinks the  holiday is a waste of time and doesn’t understand why people even  bother. so what happens when your secret admirer takes their chance to  tell you how they feel?

a/n: i’m sorry this turned out kind of lame but nonetheless i hope you like it!!! ty for requesting!! also this is a repost bc tumblr is picking a fight :)

original request here

Every year, each class is assigned to run a holiday event for the school. So, when the school president notifies you that your class will be in charge of the Valentine’s Day event this year, you’re over the moon.

You’re determined to pull off an amazing event not only because your pride as class representative is on the line, but simply because you love the concept of Valentine’s Day.

During your break between classes you rack your brain, trying to think of an idea that will blow the entire school away.

“What about a kissing booth?”

You turn to look at your friend, nose scrunching in distaste, “Really? A kissing booth? I think that’s overdone and quite frankly, disgusting, Yachi.”

Embarrassment is written all over her face and you can’t help but feel bad at your small outburst, “Sorry Yachi, that was rude of me. I do appreciate you trying to help me though.”

Her messy blonde hair sways side to side as she shakes her head, “No, you’re right. I’d feel sorry for whoever has to kiss hundreds of random strangers.” A giggle escapes your lips when you see the way she gags at the thought.

“Hey, Y/N are you planning to do something with Tsukishima for Valentine’s?”

The question catches you off guard. You’ve been dating for just about a year now and you know he wasn’t exactly into these sorts of things but surely, he at least had something planned, right? Just as you’re about to respond, the school bell goes off, signalling the start of your third period.

For the rest of the day, your mind is preoccupied with brainstorming. Love telegrams? Serenades? Chocolates? No, although traditional, it was all too boring to you.

It’s only the when the ring of your cellphone brings you back to reality. Your face lights up at the caller ID, your finger quickly swiping across the screen.

“Kei! Where have you been?”

When you hear your boyfriend’s voice for the first time today, your worries seem to fade away. “Yamaguchi, Hinata and Kageyama kept pestering me to practice with them during all our breaks today.” You can just imagine the scowl he has plastered on his face.

“Well it can’t be helped. After all, interhighs will be here before you know it. You’ve got to set a good example for all your juniors.” You hear him sigh on the other end, “Yeah I guess but, that means we won’t be able to see each other as much.”

The corner of your lips lifts upward into a wide smile. Tsukishima has never been the type to be so forward when expressing his affection towards you, so you always cherish these types of moments.

You’re suddenly reminded of what Yachi asked you earlier in the day and you ponder whether or not you should bring it up with him.

“Hey, Kei?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have anything planned for Valentine’s Day?” You can barely make it out, but you definitely hear him scoff.

“Probably not. I don’t really understand why people go crazy over it. It’s so corny and unnecessarily expensive, it’s just a waste of a day.”

You nod your head, even though he can’t see you, “I see. Well I have homework to do, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Kei.”

Before he can respond, you end the call, throwing your phone on the bed.

Why were you so upset? You know that your boyfriend was like this; you understand that he isn’t fond of big theatrics when it came to love. You like him and he likes you, that’s all that should matter. Yet, for some reason, you can’t get rid of the tight feeling building in your chest.

When you wake up the next day, your heart still feels heavy.  Last night’s conversation still lingers in your mind, maybe because you know there’s some truth to what he said. Or maybe, it’s because you secretly hoped he’d take advantage of the holiday to show you how much he cared for you.

Pushing your thoughts away, you busy yourself with getting ready for another day of school.

When you arrive, you easily spot your boyfriend, his tall frame towering over most of the other students. One of his friends catches your eye, before giving your boyfriend a gentle a nudge, pointing towards you. Tsukishima turns to look at you momentarily before quickly walking off in the direction of his classroom.

Automatically, your lips turn into a frown. He must be upset because you abruptly hung up on him last night. You let out a sigh; maybe you’d buy him a slice of his favourite strawberry shortcake and surprise him after his practice.

During class your mind is anywhere but the lesson, your focus drifting between the Valentine’s event and Tsukishima avoiding you.

“Y/N”

“Y/N!”

Your seatmate gives you a sharp nudge to the side, bringing your attention to the front of the room.

“I believe you have an announcement for the class?”

You scramble out of your seat, smoothing out the wrinkles in your uniform as you make your way to the front of the classroom, “This year our class has been chosen to run the Valentine’s day event.” A mixture of groans and excited whispers fill the classroom, “If you would like to participate in the planning process please let me know. Those who do not partake in the planning are required to participate in the execution of the event.”

During lunch, much to your relief, a number of students approach you to offer their help. As a group, you exchange ideas back and forth and by the end of lunch break you’ve collected a wide variety of ideas. All that was left was to actually decide on one.

Happiness and excitement settles in your chest, and you can barely sit still for the rest of the day.  When the final bell goes off, those helping with the event hurriedly crowd around your desk to continue the conversation from earlier.

“Okay well we definitely have to have flowers and chocolate! How can you have Valentine’s Day without those?”

“Singing attracts way too much attention. I would literally die of embarrassment if I got serenaded in front of the whole class.”

“Telegrams are so overdone, but I also think they’re romantic, they definitely fit the vibe.”

“What if we set up an event based on the red string of fate?” Once you hear the idea your heart falls in love.

“Watanabe, that’s a great idea! Students can send in their profiles and whether  they’re looking for love or friendship. Then we’ll match them based on preferences. On Valentines Day, we’ll separate students onto two sides of the sports field.  They’ll find the card with their names and put on their string before they set off to find their match!”

Excited chatter erupts among the group, everyone adding in their two cents. The next while is spent delegating tasks to everyone, from promotion to design to operations. By the time you wrap up it’s already close to 7pm.

Grabbing your belongings, you quickly throw them into your bag. Tsukishima should be wrapping up practice soon, and unless his teammates ask him to stay the two of you could walk home together.

Quickly, you make your way to the gym to find your boyfriend. From quite a distance away you can clearly hear Hinata and Kageyama shouting at each other as usual. When you arrive at the door, you’re greeted by a chorus of “hellos” from the volleyball club.

Your boyfriend jogs over to you, stopping just shy of the door. Upon further inspection, you can see the beads of sweat forming on his nose and forehead and you can’t help but smile, knowing how hard he must be working to make it to nationals this year.

“Y/N? What are you doing here still?” there’s a hint of standishoffness in his voice but you brush it aside, “My class was assigned to the Valentine’s Day event, so I stayed behind with some classmates to do some planning. I thought that we could walk home together?”

Tsukishima’s lips press into a thin line. Was he still angry with you?

“Sorry, but we’re still practicing.”

A voice chimes in from behind, “What are you talking about? You just said-”

The tall male whips around, you can’t see his expression but by the way Hinata reacts, you can tell he’s glaring at him.

“You know what, forget it. You obviously don’t want to walk home with me and I’m an adult so I can walk myself home.” Turning on your heels, you storm away from the gym, ignoring your boyfriend as he calls your name.

The next couple of weeks fly by as you’re busy preparing for the Valentine’s event.  Applications flow in every day, and although you’re glad the event is a hit you can’t help but feel exhausted.

The fact that you and Tsukishima haven’t spoken properly since your outburst doesn’t help either. Your text messages are short and infrequent; a simple “good morning” and “good night”, and sometimes the occasional “have a good day”.

Before you know it, Valentine’s Day arrives. As you step onto the field, your heart is racing uncontrollably. You’ve spent the past month alongside your classmates working out every single kink to ensure everything would be perfect for today.

You raise your arm into the air, the red flag in your hand dancing in the cold winter breeze. Taking in a deep breath, you call out as loud as you can, “Ready... set.... go!”

Laughter fills the air as you watch your school mates stumble between each other trying to find their other half for the day through the sea of red.

“Pull on your string, you might be my match!”

“Quit pushing me!”

“Hey, stop trying to tangle my string!!”

“You guys are totally matched together, you’re literally the same person.”

Your cheeks start to ache from smiling so hard, but you can’t help yourself. Watching as everyone slowly finds the end of the red string creates a warmth in your chest. You haven’t felt this way since... well since the day Tsukishima confessed to you.

It had happened last winter. The two of you were walking home together after his volleyball practice. You’re not sure what came over you at the time but you thought it would be a good idea to throw a snowball at him. The look on his face when the cold white powder hit him square in his chest was absolutely priceless. But the moment didn’t last long when he made a much much much larger snowball.

You screamed at the top of your lungs as he chased after you, determined to get back at you. After a few minutes, your lungs started to give out and so you turned around, hands held up in the air, “I give up, I’m sorry.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, snowball still in his hands ready to throw it at you if need be, “What are you sorry for?”

You tried to stifle your laughter, for someone who acted so cool all the time, seeing that side of him was honestly quite refreshing, “I’m sorry for throwing a snowball at you. You must be cold.”

“No.” In three swift strides, Tsukishima is standing in front of you, “I never feel cold when I’m with you, Y/N.”

A distant voice snaps you out of your daydream. When you come back to your senses, you realize everyone has found their match and is waiting for your closing remarks. Grabbing the microphone you quickly thank everyone for participating, sending them off with well wishes.

Once the majority of the students leave the field, you round up your classmates, thanking them for all the hard work they put into the event.

As you head back inside, a familiar voice calls your name, “Y/N!”

“Watanabe, thank you for the amazing idea. There’s no way I would have been able to think of something as creative as this.”

They quickly shake their head, “No way, I should be the one thanking you. You had so many more ideas to add on that really brought it to life. This event was totally a hit, I heard a lot of people saying they want to do this again next year.”

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you head back to your classroom to grab your things.

“Hey, Y/N...?”

“Yes?”

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Your head snaps towards them, the surprise evident on your face.

“Ah sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just wondering since you always seem so excited to talk about Valentine’s Day.”

You reach out, giving their shoulder a gentle pat, “That’s okay, I don’t mind,” you pause momentarily, “I don’t think I’m doing anything.”

Watanabe nods their head, clearly thinking about whether or not they should puruse the current topic. When they choose to let it go, you silently thank them, not wanting to be reminded of the fact that you and your boyfriend were still on bad terms on the supposed most romantic day of the year.

When you arrive at home, you try to distract yourself with your homework. Hours pass by, not a single message, or phone call. Even if Tsukishima didn’t like the holiday didn’t he at least have the heart to tell you “happy Valentine’s Day? Pulling out your phone, you open up your chat with your boyfriend. But before you can start typing, the familiar typing bubble pops up and you quickly exit out. You watch your screen expectantly, jumping when your phone chimes.

[10:43pm] ♥kei♥: good night.

Immediately, your shoulders deflate. That was it? Another simple goodnight? Throwing your phone in the corner, you climb into bed and shut your eyes. Maybe in your dreams you’d meet Tsukishima in a world where he truly cared.

Your body feels sluggish in the morning as you make your way to your cubby. Instead of sweet dreams, you tossed and turned all night unable to get Tsukishima off your mind. Pulling your indoor shoes out of their slot, you drop them to the floor with a thunk. You slip off your outdoor shoes, and just as you’re about to put them away, a red envelope catches your eye.

You look around to see if anybody is watching you, but everyone around you is absorbed in their own conversations. Quickly, you stuff your shoes away, before tearing the red packaging open.  

Dearest Y/N,

Where do I begin? When I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were an angel sent from the heavens. Seeing you smile at me sends my heart into a frenzy, and quite frankly, I’m not sure if I’ve even recovered from the last time you looked at me with those eyes. Those beautiful eyes that I could get lost in forever.

If only you were mine, I’d make you happy.

Love,

Your Secret Admirer

You were at a loss for words. From the way they addressed you, it was obvious it wasn’t your boyfriend. Yet, you couldn’t think of a single person that could have written you this letter.

The warning bell goes off and you shove the letter into your bag, rushing off to homeroom.

As the week continues on, so did the letters. No matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t figure out who was leaving them for you.

At your wits end, you decide to confide in Yachi. If you couldn’t catch sight of your secret admirer, maybe she could, “I’m telling you Yachi, it’s definitely not Kei. I have no idea who it could be and I have no idea how they keep slipping me these notes without me noticing!”

As you ramble on about your secret admirer, you fail to notice how silent Yachi has become. When you finally realize, you notice how stiff she’s become; the colour has drained from her face and she’s not looking at you, but past you.

Slowly you turn around, only to be met with a cold pair of eyes. The grip around your wrist is tight as you’re dragged down the hallway.

“Kei, you’re hurting me. Let go!” Your complaints are dismissed as the two of you continue on, stopping only when you reach the gym used by the boys’ volleyball club. Your body is shoved into the supply room, Tsukishima slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

Click

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

Your mouth hangs open, completely lost for words, “Kei you can’t be serious.”

The way his gaze pierces through you tells you he’s dead serious.

“Is it because of the letters you’ve been receiving? Who are they from? Do you like them?” His questions come rushing at you so fast, you can barely catch everything he’s saying.

But the longer he goes on, the angrier you feel yourself become. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your body trembles with anger, you even think you might be seeing red.

“Do you want to break up with me?”

It’s like something inside you snaps and you can’t bear to listen to his rambling any longer, “Tsukishima Kei,” your voice rings loud and clear in the small room. For a moment even you’re stunned at yourself.

You open your mouth to speak again, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a weak sob. You lean over, resting your hands on your knees as the tears build in your eyes. It only takes a moment for them to start streaming down your face.

“Kei you’re so stupid, you’re so fucking stupid.” When you feel his fingers graze your skin, you immediately step away, your back hitting the layer of gym mats.

He takes a step towards you, “Y/N...please tell me what I did wrong. Please.” His voice is soft, barely a whisper.

When you look up at him, he looks just as ruined as you do. The area around his eyes is bright red, tears brimming his eyes.

"I wish you loved me more.” The words are bitter in your mouth, but there’s truth in them.

But when you see the look on his face, you’re instantly filled with regret, “Kei I didn’t-” but he cuts off you off before you can continue, “Is this because I said I wasn’t planning anything for Valentine’s Day?”

You say nothing, but your silence tells him everything he needs to know. Running his fingers through his hair, he lets out a frustrated sigh, “Maybe if you weren’t hanging out with Watanabe or any of those other people.”

“We were working on the Valentine’s Day event, and you know that.” you spit back at him, anger brewing in your chest once again.

He steps towards you again, arms trapping you between his body and the mats behind you, “I bet one of them is the one sending you the letters.”

When you don’t respond, he starts to make his way out of the supply room stopping momentarily to look back at you, “Y/N, I don’t need a shitty holiday to express how much I love being with you, when I do it everyday. Or at least that’s what I thought.”

With that, he leaves you, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floors of the gym.

Over the weekend, you try to distract yourself from thinking about Tsukishima. But no matter what you do, everything always seems to lead right back to him.

Like the hoodie you’re wearing that he (reluctantly) gave you when you snuck out past midnight that one time. Or when your parents bring home the strawberry cake that the two of you would sometimes share at the bakery near your house.

While you drown in your feelings you ignore the knock on the door. But it comes again, and again, and again. Forcing yourself up from your bed, you make your way downstairs.

Swinging the front door open, you’re greeted by nothing but the emptiness of your front yard. Just as you’re about to shut the door, a flash of red catches your eye.

On the ground is a card and attached is a piece of long red string. The string passes your front gate but that’s as far as you can see. Cautiously you pick up the card, your name written clearly on the front. You don’t recognize the writing and so you debate with yourself for a few moments.

You shout to your parents that you’ll be back, not bothering to tell them why you were running off so late at night.

As you follow the red string you pass a number of familiar places. Your favourite bakery, the record store that has all the albums of your favourite artists, and the book store you like to hide in on rainy days.

At last, the string leads you to the park. Your eyes follows the string to where it disappears behind a nearby tree. Slowly you approach, your feet crunching against the snow.

Just before you can identify the person at the end of the string, a ball of white is hurled towards your chest.

You look down, the icy crystals already melting into the fabric of your hoodie. The sound of footsteps catch your attention, the culprit walking out with his signature smirk plastered across his face.

“What the hell was that for?”

Suddenly, you’re pulled into a hug. It’s warm and familiar, the feeling has you melting into his arms.

His hands grab fistfuls of your hoodie, pushing you closer to his body, holding you as if you were going to melt away just like the snow. Part of you is still angry at him for lashing out at you, but the other part of you knows that you were also in the wrong. So you stay, you stay in his arms because when you’re together like this, your heart knows that it’s home.

The two of you continue to stand there, breathing in sync, hearts beating as if they were one. 

“Y/N I’m sorry.” His voice breaks the silence between the two of you.

One of his arms wraps itself securely around your waist, the other rising to cup your cheek, “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you like that, it’s not your fault you were getting those letters.”

You shake your head furiously, wanting to tell him he’d done nothing wrong but when you look into his golden eyes. It’s a look you’ve never once seen before. It’s almost as if they’re pleading for you to listen, just for now. So desperate yet so full of love.

“I should have realized how important Valentine’s Day is to you. When you hung up on me, I should have realized. When I saw you the next day I shouldn’t have run from you. Being away from you hurt me, and I know it hurt you just as much. It wasn’t fair of me.”

There are a million thoughts running through your mind, but there’s one that you can see clearly.

“Kei, I love you.”

Maybe it was the winter chill, or maybe you’ve finally managed to fluster him, but nonetheless his ears burn a bright red.

“I didn’t mean what I said the other day - about wishing you loved me more. I know you do. I know you don’t say it often, but everything you do for me shows me you do.”

You ramble on, listing every action of love, big or small, that you can recall. Your speech is cut short when your boyfriend captures your lips in a chaste kiss.

His lips are cold against yours, yet when he pulls away, your mouth feels like they’ve been set aflame, “Y/N, I love you. If you want, I’ll make you feel as if Valentine’s Day is everyday.”

Your heart flip flops at those three words but all you can say is, “Kei you’re cold.”

Gently, he knocks his forehead against yours, “I’m never cold. Not when I’m with you.”

[cauliflowercounty]

Firsts (Harry Potter x Reader)

House: You Choose

Blood Status:  You Choose

Request: Hi!! Do you think you could write a Harry Potter x reader where they are friends with the trio and Harry says something funny and mid laugh reader casually says “I love you” in a platonic way and Harry gets quiet bc he’s never heard anyone say that before and the reader makes a note to tell him every day that he is loved and it eventually becomes more?????? It came to my mind at work and I can’t stop thinking about it. Thank you so so much💕

A/n

-----

Tossing his book bag to the side, Ron huffs as he sits down next to Harry and Hermione.  He’s obviously in a tizzy.  He runs his hands through his hair, breathing out heavily trying to defuse his anxiety.

“What’s wrong, Ron?” you ask as you approach the group, knowing something must have happened to reduce Ron to such a state.

“It’s Malfoy and his cretins again,” Ron grumbles.  “They were on Ginny and me about how our family is dirt and we’ll never get anything in life because our father is poor.  The usual.  He also told us something along the lines of ‘I, unlike you, am not a disgrace to wizards and purebloods, so he has the right to tell us off.  He’s an absolute rotten git.”

“Ignore him Ron,” Hermione retorts.  “The rise he gets out of you is what he wants.  He’s just seeking attention.  If you ignore him he’ll find someone else to mess with.”  

“Good point, Hermione, but he never seems to move on.  I’m so tired of Malfoy.  It’s been years at this point,” you add.  “I would think he would have run out of things to say about us.  It’s like someone’s feeding him insults to use.”

“You think Draco’s imaginative enough to come up with new material all the time? His head’s full of dry, old, expired Christmas pudding from last year and sand.  His dear old daddy, Lucius, is his source,” Harry quips, prompting a you to crack up laughing.

“Oh my god, Harry! That’s too accurate. I absolutely love you!” you say through your giggles, trying to get a hold of yourself. Harry just stares at you, a bit taken a back. As soon as you see the look on his face, you freeze and your laughter ceases.  “Uh oh,” you think.

Hermione and Ron have noticed the sudden stop.

“Harry?” You ask softly, a look of worry spreading over your face. “Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no, y/n,” Harry stutters, shaking just head quickly, trying to ease the tension and your nervousness. He gets up quickly and takes your hand, pulling you aside and down the hall to an empty classroom. Hermione and Ron give each other a look as you both disappear from sight.

As soon as you’re alone with Harry, he takes a deep breath. You’re officially scared. You’ve been friends with Harry for a long time and you know if he pulls you aside somewhere to have a private conversation, it’s serious. Most often, it’s about dangerous or he’s going to break the rules again and he needs your help. Harry notices the apprehension in your stance and the look on your face easily.

“Sorry, y/n, if I’ve scared you at all,” Harry starts. “It’s just what you said...”

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask. As soon as you say that the realization dawns on you. “It was the ‘I love you’ wasn’t it? Did it make you uncomfortable? Oh, God. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Harry. It was meant to be like a friendly ‘I love you.’ It won’t h-!”

“No, no, no!” Harry says as quickly as he hears what you’re saying. “It’s not that... it didn’t bother me at all. It was actually... welcome, if I’m honest. It’s just I don’t hear it a lot. The Dursley’s weren’t really the cuddliest of people towards me.”

You nod in agreement, and Harry looks into your eyes as if to say thank you.

“Oh, Harry.  I’m so sorry.  Well, you deserve to hear it, Harry,” you smile.  “You should be hearing it all the time.”

“Thanks, y/n,” Harry grins as you bring him into a hug.  He sighs as he wraps his arms around you in return, a warm tingly feeling glowing in his chest.  As you break away, you giggle a bit.  Harry looks down at his scuffed up trainers in the cute, shy way he does when he’s a bit nervous or there’s an awkward pause.

“Come on, Harry,” you say finally.  “Hermione and Ron are all alone.  We should get back before they get in a fight and Hermione resorts to calling him ‘Ronald’ and he’s ignoring her at every turn.”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckles as you grab his hand and pull him away.  “They’re pretty lost without us.”

~

After your private conversation with Harry, you had been thinking about what he’d said.  You felt sad that just casually saying “i love you” had had such an effect on Harry.  It had made him shocked and surprised, which was a bit heart breaking but at the same time understandable because of his upbringing.  From that day forth, you had made a commitment to coming up to Harry and telling him he’s loved or cared for.  You made sure to do it in moments where there weren’t a lot of people around, especially the Slytherins because Harry’d never see the end of it if Draco and his posse overheard.  Plus, it was something between the two of you and not for the world.

In your opinion, your endeavor was highly successful. The first two or three times, it caught Harry off guard and you could sense he felt on the spot, but you always lightened the mood with a good talk over a butterbeer or some sort of magical sweet.  After a while, Harry got more and more used to hearing “I love you” and not before long, he began to smile very time you said it, even looking forward to it daily.  He’d wonder when you’d say it each day and you never failed to tell him.

You also enjoyed telling him “i love you” from day to day.  it was like a little moment that would was guaranteed to make you smile no matter what.  Even if the day was horrible, that one interaction with harry would make it all better because of the look on his face.  The way his cheeks grow slightly pink and how wide his smile gets was always a little treat.  It made you happy to see Harry like this.

After about a month and a half of this, you’d noticed a new pattern in Harry’s behavior every time you’d come into the room and not just when you were saying your daily “i love you.” He’d now become bashful and fiddle with his quill or the hem of his clothes. When Harry was nervous usually, he’d grip his wand tightly or stare off in front of him as if he had some sort of purpose or direction. Clenching his fist was a good tell for Harry’s nervousness or anxiety level, but  this was different.

Finally, your concern overtook you and now you’re facing Harry in and abandoned classroom.

“Harry?” you say looking straight at him.  “What’s been going on?  I’ve noticed you acting different around me.  When I first started this “I love you thing,” I checked with you and you said that you were okay with it.  Did that change?  You know I respect your boundaries and if you want me to stop I will.  Please just communicate with me?  The last thing I want to do is destroy our friendship.”

“Y/n,” Harry says, reaching out and gripping you by your arms to try to calm you.  He could tell you were about to start rambling.  “Like I said, I’m not uncomfortable.  It’s okay.  I just... I guess now’s a good time to say what I’ve been thinking....”

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.  “Whatever you’re about to say to me sounds serious.”

“I-i...,” Harry trails off, taking his hands back and placing them on his hips.  He exhales deeply and turns away for a second.  Something must be looming over him. A moment later, he turns back and readjusts himself. “I just wanted to tell you... No. I’m just going to come out with it.  I like it when you tell me “i love you,” y/n.  It really makes my day.”

“I’m so glad you feel that way, Harry,” you respond, your heart warming knowing that what you’re doing is making Harry feel good.

“It’s just changed something for me...  How I see you... and how I feel about you,” he admits anxiously.  “I get so happy when you come up to me and I’ve realized that I want to hear that all the time, but I want you to mean it, mean it and not just say it because you’re my friend and I should hear that people love me more often.”

“Oh, Harry,” you gasp, not ever expecting this would be how this conversation would evolve.

“That’s why I’ve been acting different around you.  I’ve been wrestling with this,” Harry explains. “For as long you’ve been saying this, it’s just been a nice gesture, and I don’t know if I can take it if that’s how it’s always going to be.  Each time you come up, I get this feeling I want you to be closer to me.  I... y/n I want us to be more than friends, but ‘us’ seems like an impossibility, and each time you’ve come up to me for the past few weeks, I’ve been considering distancing myself to spare myself the heartache. That’s why I’ve been acting strange.”

Initially, you’re shocked and surprised, but you smile at him and rush forward and wrap him up in a tight hug.  

“Is that how you really feel, Harry?” you murmur over his shoulder into his ear, and you feel him nod.  “That’s a relief because in the last few weeks, I’ve been feeling different about you. too.  It makes me happy to see you smile.  I love your company and I want you around all the time.  I’ve meant every ‘I love you’ I’ve said for weeks.  I feel the same way.”

You both pull back and look into each other’s eyes and break out into laughter, grinning like idiots.

“So... I guess we’ve been thinking the same thing for weeks and we never once addressed it?” you chuckle.

“I guess so,” Harry nods.  You shake you head with another laugh building in your chest.

“How come other couples make getting together out to be so much easier, but it takes us weeks to figure out what’s going on?” you ask with a fake exasperated sigh. 

“I don’t know, but we got there in the end,” Harry concludes as he takes your hand in his.  “Let’s go, y/n.  We should be getting back.”

“So we’re... together now?” you ask, still in disbelief.  “Just like that?”

“No.  We’ve been demoted to acquaintances.  This interaction was way too much for our teenage brains to handle.  Of course we are!” Harry jokes.  “But only if you want to, y/n.”

“Okay, okay.  Stop stalling and beating around the bush.  I like you, Harry,” you state.  “and you admitted you like me AND said you wanted us to be together.  I also said that, too.  Now, by the law of mutual confessions, we are now obligated to try to be together or are in fact together. Do you object to this logic?”

“Not at all,” Harry replies, laughing at your formality.  He smiles at you and slowly leans in, bringing his lips inches away from your own.  “Is this okay?”

You nod at him and he closes the gap,  You close your eyes.  The kiss is perfect and gentle. As your heart leaps in your chest, Harry wraps his free arm around you.  Breaking away after a few blissful moments, Harry grins at you.

“Hermione and Ron are going to have a field day when we tell them,” you whisper to him.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry mumbles. “That’s a problem for later,” he sighs, going back in for one more kiss, and you and Harry are finally on the same wavelength.  This has been a long time coming.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Boundary Communication

A/N: This was a little steamier I think than I have written but I do intend to extend my horizons as I begin writing again. I can read the crap out of some smut but never managed to write it lol but I’m gonna ease into it. I hope you like it! Also, anyone who wants to, feel free to send more requests in!

Requested?: Yes, “Heyy can you write with harry? Where harry and reader are dating and when Harry and reader are alone harry is being all needy clingy touchy touchy kisses hugs cuddles all cute but reader is a bit uncomfortable because she is shy. After a few attempts of trying to warm her up(this part may be a bit smutty but it is totally fine if you dont write smut) harry  gives her space and he is heartbroken bc she is not comfortable with him yet? And then they make up this time she pushes herself out of her comfort zone. Im sorry this is so specific but i thought it would be cute. And harry is so underrated he deserves more imagines. I would be so happy if you can write this!! Love you😻”

Summary: I think I stuck to the request above, I just didn’t get super steamy with it.

CW/TW: Sixth Year, No Voldemort AU, Harry Potter x Reader, it might be a little heavy bc the reader is uncomfy w/ her boyfriend Harry’s advances. Kisses, neck kisses, that sort of thing.

Word Count: 1,114

Your POV

    I dropped my school bag at the end of one of the common room couches and plopped down on to said couch. It’s been a long day with a double Potions lesson in which Snape was being extra cruel. Poor Neville managed to get detention simply for chopping his ingredients wrong and Seamus got detention and 20 points deducted from Gryffindor for blowing his potion up yet again. I had trouble as well. Snape seemed rather unfond of me today and kept a close eye on me. I already suck at Potions, let alone when my every move is being watched and criticized.

    Then there is the matter of my issues with my boyfriend Harry. He’s been rather clingy and touchy lately but I still haven’t gotten used to it yet so I’ve mostly shrugged him off or made an excuse to escape. I can tell it’s weighing on him but I’ve tried my hardest and still can’t manage to be comfortable yet. My moody thoughts are interrupted when the portrait guarding the entrance to our common room opens and Harry steps through.

    The air in the empty common room suddenly feels suffocating. I watch Harry out of the corner of my eye as he looks back and forth between me and the staircase to his dormitory. He finally seems to make a decision in his struggle and makes his way over to me and takes a seat on my right. I keep my gaze on the lit fireplace to my left as he gently places his hand on my knee. When I don’t look up at him, he gently squeezes my knee to pull my attention toward him.

    I look toward him but don’t meet his eye and he is the first to speak, “You seem stressed.”

    I shrug my shoulders and look back towards the fire, “Potions was a royal pain in the ass today and I didn’t sleep well last night.”

    Harry seems to think for a moment before ducking his head to whisper in my ear, “I know something that could help you relax.” His hand slowly ventures up my thigh as he says this. Suddenly, he gets up off the couch and picks me up bridal style before carrying me up to his empty dorm room. He drops me on the bed softly before placing a tentative kiss on my lips. I kiss back but he quickly moves on to pepper kisses along my neck as he hovers above me. I stiffen at how ticklish it is but force myself to relax. I trust him with my life, why is this such a struggle for me.

    Harry stops to look up at me as he tugs gently at the hem of my shirt, “Are you okay with this? You usually stop me here.”

    I look into his eyes as a battle rages within me before looking away and muttering softly, “I’m sorry Harry I can’t do this.” He moves from above me and sits down on the edge of the bed with his back turned toward me. I get up and silently leave the room to pick up my bag downstairs before heading to my own dormitory.

    It’s a few days later before I really manage to talk to Harry again. I sit down at breakfast beside Hermione. Across from me, Harry keeps his head low and focuses on his breakfast. Beside him, Ron gives Hermione a specific kind of look and she returns with one. They go on swapping facial expressions, seemingly having a silent conversation, for a minute or so before Hermione finally turns to me and whispers in my ear, “At least say good morning to him. This silence between the two of you is killing us.”

    I clear my throat before timidly catching Harry’s eye and saying, “Good morning, Harry.” He mumbles a good morning back before grabbing Ron’s arm and dragging him away and out of the Great Hall.

Hermione nudges my shoulder, “Please do try to make up with him soon. I’ve never seen him so glum, not even when the Whomping Willow destroyed his Nimbus.” I laugh softly to myself and am soon lost in thought. Harry is a great guy and I love him dearly. “Perhaps what you two lack is communication. Tell him how you feel and express what makes you shy away from intimacy with him,” Hermione says before grabbing her book bag and walking off toward Professor McGonagall.

I sigh and grab my bag as well before wandering off toward our first lesson, half hoping to run into Harry on my way there. My wish is quickly granted too. I literally run into him as I turn a corner. When I notice it’s him, I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on as I mumble, “Can we talk after class? I miss you.”

He wraps his arms around me as well and mumbles a, “Sure, love.” We stand there a moment before the bell rings and pulls us apart and towards our class. We take our usual seats in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. As the professor begins their lecture for the day, I reach over and take Harry’s hand in mine before resting our hands on my thigh.

After a long and dull lecture, Harry and I wander off out of class and depart from everyone else who is heading towards the grounds. We are still holding hands when we step through the portrait hole. He tries to sit on the couch but I drag him toward my dorm instead because I know for certain it will be empty.

Harry stands awkwardly in the door way as I plop down onto my bed. I giggle at him before beckoning him towards me, “Come sit, will you and close the door behind you?” Once he’s done as I requested, I take his hands in mine, “Harry I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I want you to know that I love you so very much and I would trust you with my life. I’ve just never really had a serious boyfriend before so this is all new to me.”

Tension seems to melt away from his shoulders as they relax. I continue my explanation, “I’ll do better about letting you know when I feel comfortable pushing the boundary back a little bit okay?”  

He kisses my knuckles before nodding, “Thank you, love. I’m sorry I’ve pushed you so much.”

I smile, “You’re forgiven. Now, how about we push that boundary back I little bit?” He grins as I move to straddle his lap and place his hands on my sides under my shirt.

Masterlist

[thelastspeecher]

I'm honestly loving your posts about your experience doing debate! Do you have any other stories or cool things you learned while doing debate and speech?

oh I sure do have some stories about Speech and Debate!

now, the best stories come from Policy Debate rounds.  and it’s bc there is a v cutthroat Policy Debate culture.  it’s rooted in just, generally, what Policy is.  Policy is strictly regimented and notoriously difficult and the rounds last for much longer than they should.  you had to be talking at light speed, writing as quickly as possible in a sort of code called “flow” (essentially, a shorthand to allow you to take notes fast - my team’s flow involved removing vowels from words), paying attention to another teenager’s argument, and dressed like a goddamn lawyer for hours.

in the very first debate round I ever did, the topic was food stamps, and my partner and I were in the affirmative.  at one point, the opposing team said “what about food stamp fraud?”  I, v rightly, pointed out that fraud is rare.  and someone on the opposing team said “well my uncle does it.”  and I just stared at her for a moment before saying “then your uncle is committing a crime.”  she tried to say that I don’t have the right to talk about her family, and I (again, v rightly) said “you brought it up.”  we won that round.

I once went up against a team that was the epitome of the cutthroat Policy Debate culture, which made sense, bc they were from a high school infamous in our area for the intensity of their Speech and Debate team.  I got frustrated with one of them for saying that Germany was “evil” bc of WWI and WWII, but that’s irrelevant.  bc the person who said Germany was evil was later disqualified for trying to strangle his debate partner after they lost a round.

one time someone on our team ran up against an argument about disposing radioactive waste in Yucca Mountain.  I’m pretty sure the topic was food stamps.  but we didn’t have evidence for it, so that night when we got back to the hotel (it was a two-day tournament), we looked up evidence about disposing radioactive waste in Yucca Mountain.

speaking of off-topic arguments: Policy had a very strict structure and format.  and it was also notorious for rounds going off the rails.  I once sat in on a round and watched a teammate talk very passionately about how difficult it would be to reproduce in space.  I can’t remember what the actual topic was, but I guarantee it had absolutely jack shit to do with space or reproduction.

there was one team that walked into a round, presented their argument, and then said “we don’t believe in arguing or aggression so we are now going to sit in lotus position for the rest of the round.”  they didn’t do any rebuttals.  but bc their opposing team didn’t address the whole thing about not arguing and sitting in lotus position, the lotus position team won.  I’m not 100% positive this actually happened, bc I heard it from someone who heard it from someone else.  it might just be a Policy Debate urban legend.  but with how weird Policy was, it wouldn’t surprise me if it was true.

there are a lot of different types of Debate and Speech formats.  one type of Debate format is called Public Forum (PF).  my team called people who did PF “puffers” and in general mocked it for being objectively easier than Policy.  I say objectively easier bc I did PF at one tournament after I had switched to Speech (a certain number of people needed to sign up for specific types of rounds in order to have those rounds happen, so we sometimes had to do stuff like that).  and I won fourth place.  I won like two rounds the entire year I did Policy.  but I got fourth place in Public Forum on my first try, without prepping whatsoever.  PF is easy as fuck.

you needed to be practicing even while you were at a tournament.  the team would take over lunch tables in the cafeteria (bc tournaments were at schools and the main area where everyone gathered was always the cafeteria).  debators stayed at the tables to go over evidence and arguments, and speakers would intermittently wander off to go talk to lockers.  ideally, you practiced your Speech piece for someone on your team, but bc everyone was busy working on their own thing, you frequently had to make do with practicing your piece in front of a wall or lockers.  this was a legit meme in Speech.  I had a T-shirt that said “I talk to walls” on it.  people unfamiliar with Speech and Debate were v confused when they walked down a hallway and saw professionally-dressed teenagers talking to walls and lockers.

you weren’t allowed to enter a room (9 times out of 10, rounds were in a random classroom in the school) before the judge did, so you just sort of waited in the hall.  if you were in Debate, you prepped.  if you were in Speech, you chatted with your opponents.  once you found a Speech event you were good at, you stuck with it - mine was Original Oratory, or OO.  so you regularly ran up against the same people, and got to know them.

in Speech, you got to know your opponents, but rarely knew them by their name.  you knew them by their piece.  after all, you heard their piece over and over and over.  often, you accidentally memorized portions of your opponents’ pieces, bc you weren’t allowed to zone out during rounds.  you had to pay attention to your competitors even if you’d heard their piece before.  if you didn’t, or if you were fidgeting in a way that could be distracting, the judge would dock you.  I tend to fidget, so I ran into that issue a lot.  my coach eventually told me to sit behind the judge, and I stopped being docked for fidgeting.

there was only one excuse to leave a Speech round before the last person had presented, or to arrive at a Speech round late, and it was if you were entered in multiple events and needed to go to your other round in a different room.  I was in rounds where there were few competitors and they were all in multiple events, so I presented to just the judge.  eye contact is a big part of Speech, so to get out of staring intently at the judge the whole time, I utilized something a teammate had come up with.  I asked the judge if I could make up people in the room to make eye contact with.  never got told I couldn’t do that, bc the judge didn’t want to be stared at any less than I didn’t want to stare at them.

there was one girl who I ran up against all the time.  absolute sweetheart, so kind, I really liked her.  I never knew her name, and she never knew mine.  I just knew her as the girl who talked about music and living with Turner Syndrome.  she probably knew me as the person who talked about female representation in the media and living with Asperger’s Syndrome.  my senior year, I went to Nationals and won a special award.  this regular opponent of mine?  she came up and congratulated me afterwards.  I’m ending this long-ass ask on this story bc it’s legitimately one of my favorite moments from Speech and Debate.  a competitor congratulated me, told me I deserved the recognition, that she was happy for me.  bc she had heard my speeches over and over again about how much I had struggled to get to where I was.

and I’d heard her speeches about her struggles over and over.  and I guarantee you, if she had won instead of me, I would have done the same thing.  I would have told her I was happy for her and that she deserved the win.  bc Speech and Debate could be cutthroat at times (esp the Debate part), but in the end, it was about communication and making connections with people.

I don’t know what that girl is up to now.  but I hope she’s doing well.