#like it’d also work if it was a fellow student but like

[multiversal-pudding]

A fun Danny Phantom idea:

One of those “mediums tormented by the fact they can’t turn Off the ability to see ghosts” types moves to Amity, and for the most part, it’s great! Like yeah maybe there’s still ghosts everywhere, but now they can react normally, because finally for once in their life everyone else sees the ghosts too. Granted, judging from what everyone else says it sounds like they’re seeing significantly tamer humanoid proper-manifestations than the near-incomprehensible masses of emotion, spectral energy, and whatever that particular spirit’s associated with they’re used to seeing, but eh- between how jaded they are to seeing stuff like that after all these years and the fact that in practice the response of “GTFO” tends to be applicable regardless of whether you’re dealing with a poltergheist in overalls who likes hucking boxes at people, a giant robot guy who’s yelling about world domination, or reality breaking fever dream vomit, it’s not too big a deal

…There’s just ooooone little problem

Which is that when people look at the Fenton’s youngest kid and when people see local town hero/cryptid The Phantom, clearly everyone ELSE is seeing two different people/entities, but in their case, all they see is the same wild plasma-lightning living tear in reality either way, and they’re afraid if they mix the two “identities” up they’re either A) gonna fuck up some poor kid’s life/put him and those around him in danger, B) piss off a very powerful spirit whose repeatedly proven why that’s a very bad idea, or C) both-

(Bonus points if it’s some completely mundane guy like Ted the Bus Driver/ the county deputy in training/ some poor janitor who’d be reasonably expected to come in contact with either one fairly frequently-)

[hyvyinjie]

hi! Can I ask for a headcannon about Minamoto teru x childhood friend reader? Where teru is really over protective and gentle towards the reader. Reader is a lazy person, and often sleepy, the things he likes are reading comics and playing game in their phone. They also refuses teru's invitation to join the student council. Thank you! :)

why of course! it’d be an honor to grant such an ask. apologies for taking quite a while to do so—though i hope my work meets your expectations, wonderful nonie!<3

—LOST IN THE HAZE OF YOUR DREAMSCAPE.

featuring ; minamoto teru & you as our star.

+ small akane & aoi mentions.

ah, minamoto teru; the very embodiment of perfection—as he was hailed and as he carried himself with utter conviction.

a master of powers, a paragon of academic prowess, and a maestro in all things extraordinary. could there be anything he did not conquer?

yet, his persona, a labyrinth of complexities, as if harboring a multitude of souls within his very being.

now, here you arrive in his peculiar life—meeting with the intricacies of his existence.

when your paths converged, it ignited a tempestuous collision, a clash of peculiar forces.

initially, your mere presence held no sway over him. in truth, he perceived you as an encumbrance, burdened by your languid nature. for he, a relentless pursuer of flawlessness, demanded nothing less.

but lo and behold. fate—that cunning trickster—wove its intricate threads, meticulously mending the frayed tapestry of your connection.

through the passage of time, a tapestry of happenstance encounters and the subsequent flourishing of interactions—a nascent camaraderie took root. he slowly, but surely grew attuned to your idiosyncrasies, harmonizing with your rhythm. while the power to surmount every obstacle at your side eludes him still, he persists, striving to offer his utmost.

oh please have mercy on this young man—forever enmeshed in the whirlwind of his exorcist duties. and yet, even amidst the chaos, his devotion knows no bounds when it comes to those he holds dear.

one might assume that quality time would be sacrificed for the trivial, but fear not, for you found yourself on the fortunate side—the one he’d willingly carved out moments to be with.

initially, your encounters were fleeting, brief snippets of time. however, as the sands of time trickled down, these fragments transformed into meticulously planned sleepovers. he meticulously orchestrated these occasions, ensuring they did not encroach upon his demanding schedule.

your bond thrived during these cozy gatherings, or tranquil rendezvous, where he wholeheartedly immersed himself in your passions—comics and video games.

though not extensively versed in these realms, one might imagine that you—with your infectious enthusiasm to the field—was the catalyst for his exploration and understanding of the realm of entertainment. this was evidenced by the gradual increase in invitations to game nights and his newfound willingness to engage in discussions about captivating narratives. perhaps, you both even exchanged recommendations for comics, as kindred spirits often do.

as the both of you and the world grew older—it became evident that he honed his social skills; presenting himself as a complete package. every aspect of his being held an irresistible allure, captivating the hearts of women, and even some fellow men. many yearned and openly expressed their desire to be the chosen one by his side.

however, even amidst the clamoring crowd, his gaze remained steadfastly fixed upon you.

of course, as the old adage goes; with great power comes great responsibility—the price of his popularity gradually revealed itself.

certain students, teetering on the edge of obsession, noticed the distinct tenderness he displayed towards you, surpassing his general kindness towards all. seizing upon this perceived vulnerability, they occasionally resorted to devious methods, seeking to eliminate you from the equation, taking advantage of moments when slumber claimed you.

naturally, he swiftly uncovered their plot, intervening before they could execute their nefarious intentions.

needless to say, the number of such audacious attempts dwindled significantly. what exactly he did to deter them remains a mystery known only to him and his would-be victims.

still, worried that the possibility of a recurrence and his absence to intervene, he took it upon himself to practically implore—some might even say beg—you to join the student council. this would ensure that he, or even akane if needed, could keep a watchful eye over you with greater ease.

however, true to your nature, you steadfastly rebuffed each futile attempt to persuade you. despite his persistent efforts, you remained resolute in your refusal.

eventually, your golden boy relented, recognizing that his endeavors were in vain…but that was just because he found an alternative solution.

he encouraged—forced—akane to be the one to look after you discreetly whenever he couldn’t. only choosing to partially reveal his intentions to avoid alarming you at the time, as you were unfamiliar with akane’s existence.

or so it had been until he observed that you and the school’s vice president shared a rather unique bond.

although akane would occasionally scold you for being so excessively somnolent, mistaking it for you being irresponsible, hence, occasionally comparing you to the greatness of his lady aoi—teru—ever vigilant and mindful of akane’s every interaction with you, ensured that his usual brutal tendencies were significantly tempered. still—it remained a part of the deputy’s essence, defining his very being, just albeit subdued in your presence.

it could be surmised that akane once attempted to tease—or rather, foolishly inquire, about teru’s subtle yet perceptible shifts in behavior whenever you were involved.

“it’s almost as if you like them.”

in an almost immediate reaction—the president paused, slowly turning his head to gaze at akane, a shadow casting a smile that concealed the upper portion of his closed eyes.

the ginger-haired vice executive, feeling an ominous presence despite the absence of visible eyes, found himself sweating profusely as he cautiously added,

“—to the point where anyone could mistake you for family!"

sensing the gravity of his words, akane mentally vowed to never broach the subject again. he restrained himself from ever mentioning it whenever he witnessed the two of you together.

curiosity gnawed at you as you noticed his all-knowing gaze transform into one of horror whenever you turned your head, as if peering behind you; at none other than the pretty blonde himself, who seemed to be doing nothing wrong, merely proven to have been innocently smiling the whole time, or so he put up whenever you looked back at him.

oblivious to the truth, you always dismissed it as ‘akane’s peculiar moments of ptsd flashbacks’ whenever he saw teru.

however, let me share a little secret with you.

did you know the true reason behind teru’s death stare? no? well, do you wanna know?

then do allow me to spill it for you.

it was simply because akane, using the keyword; "like," insinuated that teru had a ‘liking-only level’ romantic feeling for you. the misconception provoked such a reaction from teru, for he wanted to correct that statement because he loved you, not just liked you.

seriously, can’t people let him finish what he’s saying?

[morgana-larkin]

Ok so I had an idea, it might be stupid but here’s the summary: one of Melissa’s first students became a teacher and got a job at Abbott as a first grade teacher. Melissa becomes interested in her right away.

On another note: dudes, I’ve noticed I don’t get as much notice on my Chessy fics and I’m not understanding, she the original gay icon from Lisa Ann Walter. Also almost no notice on my Marilyn Thornhill x reader fic. I’ll be doing worth it then a sexy Mel firefighter prompt😉

Playing Favourite

Warnings: smut, Mel being a tease

Words: 2.9k

You walk into the doors of Abbott Elementary and you stop to take a look. Been awhile since you last step foot in here, last time was when you were graduating grade 8, about 10 years ago. You’ve gone from graduating from Abbott to teaching there, full circle as they say.

You got your teaching badge and classroom key and then you head to the staff lounge. You open the door with a smile and look around in amazement. You never saw this room, the one place students couldn’t enter. You look and see a few teachers staring at you confused. You just walk in and go to the fridge to put your lunch in and you freeze.

“Ms. Schemmenti?” You say and she looks at you even more confused.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Oh sorry, I guess I look a bit different. My name is y/n y/l/n. You might not remember me actually, I was in your class when you first started working here.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Of course, I remember you now. What are you doing here?” She asks.

You showed her your teaching badge. “I work here now.” You tell her proudly and walk over to her. “You actually inspired me to become a teacher. I just saw the way you loved teaching and I thought it’d be great to love your job so much and I always loved helping people out.” You tell her. “Ms Howard, you’re both still here. I don’t recognize anyone else here.”

“They all left dear.” Barb tells you. “And you’re a fellow teacher here now. Call me Barb.” She tells you.

“Barb…wow, that felt weird.” You say with a chuckle and she smiles at you. You then go and put your lunch in the fridge and then make a coffee. “Anyone else want one, I’m making a new pot.” You ask the room. Melissa gets up and stands next to you with her coffee mug.

“I’ll take one hon.” She tells you and you smile at her. “I’m proud of you, I knew you’d make a great teacher.” She tells you while you put coffee in her mug.

“Really?” You ask her and stare at her with wide eyes and she nods. “You might not have known but you were my favourite teacher.” You tell her and she rubs your shoulder.

“Thank you, it makes me happy to hear that.” She tells you and goes to sit down. When you’re done making your coffee, you get invited to sit with the trio and they all introduce themselves when you do.

“So y/n, what was Melissa like when she taught you?” Janine asks you.

“Well… she was always caring of all her students. And every year I was here, I saw that never changed.” You tell them and then go on and recall more moments that you remember from second grade and Melissa.

When it was close to 8am, you all make your way to the gym for the welcome back presentation. You walk in and see Barb and Melissa going to sit down somewhere and the trio going to get good seats near the front. The trio invited you to sit with them but you saw Melissa and Barb sitting in one of the middle rows and you make your way over there. You go in from the other side and walk over and sit down beside Melissa and she looks up from her phone to look at you.

“Hope it’s alright that I sit beside you.” you tell her and she smiles.

“Of course not hon.” She says and takes a candy from her bag, unwraps it and plops it in her mouth.

“I knew you had a candy stash.” You tell her and she looks over at you confused. “Whenever one of us was crying, you always gave a piece of candy to make them feel better along with a small pep talk.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Want one?” She asks and hands you a piece of candy. You take the candy with a smile.

“Sure, thank you Ms Schemmenti.” You say and she rolls her eyes as you pop the candy in your mouth.

“Hon, I’m not your teacher anymore, I’m your co worker, you can call me by my first name.” She tells you and you look at her confused. “Do you not know what my first name is?” She asks you and you shake your head. “It’s Melissa.”

“Melissa… that sounds weird.” You say and she tilts her head at you and you mentally facepalm. “Not that your name is weird. Just that I’m used to knowing you as Ms Schemmenti.” You rush out and she chuckles.

“I get it. When you’re used to something a certain way then it’s weird when it changes.” She tells you.

The presentation starts and you see that Melissa and Barb aren’t really paying attention. Barb is mostly focused on crossword puzzles, and Melissa on eating candy and her phone. She does keep offering you some during the 2 hour presentation, to which you always accept.

When Ava was showing selfies of her summer vacation, Melissa leaned over to you. “So where’s your classroom?” She asks you.

You look at your papers and see. “Ummm…” You look and she grabs one of the papers and sees.

“Oh, you’re right next to mine.” She tells you. “You’re a first grade teacher?” She says and you nod.

“You know we end up doing some things with the first graders during the year. I don’t know if you remember.” She tells you and you think about it.

“I remember doing some project with a bunny…or was it a rabbit.” You say and she grins.

“Peter rabbit.” She says and you smile and nod. “I still do that project.” She tells you and you smile.

“Really? Oh I would love to collaborate on that if you want. It’s a cute story.” You say while looking at what Ava is saying and she blushes.

A few hours later you’re decorating your classroom when you hear a few curses from next door. You walk over and knock on the door. A few seconds later Melissa opens the door and smiles when she sees it’s you.

“Everything alright in here? I heard, what I think is cursing.” You tell her and she sighs and nods.

“Ya, just having some trouble hanging something up. It’s a bit wide and everytime I go to hang up one side, the other one comes off cause it can’t support the weight.” She tells you.

“Do you need some help?” You offer and she smiles.

“If you don’t mind then I would appreciate it.” She says and she lets you in.

“Wow.” You say as you walk in her classroom. “It’s changed but still some things are the same.” You say as you look around the room.

“Was I really your favourite teacher? I mean you aren’t just saying that?” She asks and you look at her.

“Ya of course. I don’t really remember my other teachers that much, but I remember you. I sorta remember Barb but you don’t see me telling her that she was my favourite.” You joke a bit and she laughs.

“Well you could have without me knowing.” She tells you and you chuckle. You go over to one side of the poster that she needs help with and pin it up and then hold it while she pins the other side. “Well thanks for the help, I can’t wait to see you with the students. And it’s been great seeing you again.” She says to you and you smile.

“You as well.” You tell her and then go back to your classroom.

*2 months later*

Melissa opens her door and sees you there with a bag and a frustrated expression on your face. “Hey y/n.” She tells you with a quirked eyebrow.

“I need your help with my Halloween costume.” You say, straight to the point and she giggles.

“Alright come on in.” She says and steps aside to let you in her house. “Who are you going as?” She asks.

You and Melissa have gotten closer over the past 2 months. She didn’t give you the cold shoulder even though you’re new since you were one of her first students. She’s gotten to know who you are and the both of you have been slowly falling for each other. Neither of you will admit it though since you’re both stubborn and don’t want to possibly ruin the friendship.

“Ok well you know how you said you’re going as Penelope Featherington?” You start and she nods her head. “Well I thought I’d go as Eloise Bridgerton.” You tell her and she laughs.

“And what exactly are you having trouble with?” She asks you sigh.

“I can’t figure out how to put on the clothes.” You tell her with a pout. She giggles as your pout and walks up to you.

“Alright, well we can both get ready and help each other out.” She tells you and you smile.

You both get your costumes ready and laid out. You begin to put the corset on and she comes to tie it up. She sees all your skin on display and since you’re standing in front of the mirror, she sees a good amount of cleavage as well. She loops the string in the last few holes before beginning to tighten it.

“Is that too tight?” She asks and you shake your head.

“No, that’s perfect.” You tell her and she ties it together. She then helps you put the dress on and accidentally brushes one of your breasts and you gasp.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s- it’s ok, just surprised me is all.” You rush out.

You then help her with her corset. You both really should have accounted for her chest, as when tightening it, one of them slips out and you both freeze. You stare at it through the mirror and your brain stops working. She tucks it back in and you’re still staring at where it was and your cheeks are redder than her hair. She sees your reaction and she turns around to face you.

“Did you like what you saw?” She asks, with a bit of a teasing tone and you nod.

“It looked perfect.” You breathe out and she can see your breathing has gotten heavy. She takes a step towards you and she’s right in front of you, it wouldn't take much to lean forward and kiss her.

“Y/n, are you attracted to me?” She asks cautiously. You widen your eyes and you don’t know what to say. All you have the brain function to do is nod. “Well that’s perfect because I’m attracted to you too.” She tells you with a smile.

“Really?” You say in disbelief and she nods.

“Ya, and I just want to say that I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a couple weeks now.” She tells you and you lean forward a bit and she closes the gap. She puts a hand on the back of your head and you put one on her cheek. You both pull back after a few seconds and you stare at each other before going right back and make out. She walks forward a bit while still kissing you and your back hits a wall. She puts both her hands on the wall, one beside your head and the other beside your waist. You have both your arms wrapped around her neck to keep her where she is and open your mouth a bit to let her tongue slip in.

At one point she puts her hand on your waist and gives it a small squeeze and you moan. You pull back when you need to breath and look at her as you try and bring oxygen back to your brain.

“Do you kiss all your former students?” You tease and she smiles.

“Can’t say I have, you’re the only one.” She tells you. “Do you kiss all your former teachers?” She teases back.

“Only my favourite teacher.” You say and she lunges forward to capture your lips again. She moves her hands downward near your ass and cups it when she gets there. She then gets you to hop up and wrap your legs around her and you do just that. She then pins you against the wall harder and goes for your neck.

She then gets some of her control back and she pulls back to look at you. “Do you want to continue with this or do you want to stop here? Cause I’ll tell you right now that if we continue then I’ll want to go all the way.” She tells you bluntly.

“Then let’s go all the way.” You tell her and she carries you to her bedroom and lays you on the bed and continues kissing you. You then get an idea when she goes back to kissing your neck. You get her to pull back and look at her. “I know you said to call you Melissa, but right now I just want to call you Ms Schemmenti.” You tell her and she smiles and shakes her head.

“Oh, do you want to be disciplined then?” She asks, playing along.

“Perhaps.” You say.

“I mean you have been bad. Having dirty thoughts about your teacher, showing up in sexy clothes to get her attention.” She tells you and blush. “Oh don’t think I haven’t noticed your wardrobe change in the past few weeks.” She tells you.

“So it worked then.” You say proudly.

“Oh, it definitely worked.” She says and kisses you again. She then reaches under your dress and pulls your underwear down and throws it somewhere. She then goes under your dress and connects her mouth with your pussy.

You feel her tongue on you and you gasp. You can’t see her, all you do is feel her and she definitely knows how to please a woman with her tongue. You grab the headboard behind you and you buck your hips. She then moves her mouth to your clit and you moan and buck your hips again. She then slips a finger in and you gasp out. She pops her head out from under your dress and looks at you with wet lips.

“How should I discipline you?” She asks you and you just whine as she’s still fingering you. She adds another finger and your eyes are shut closed. She expertly takes her underwear off and goes in her nightstand to get her strap on. She somehow is able to put it on with one hand and then she pulls out of you, much to your reluctance. She pulls your dress off and then she pulls one of your breasts out of the corset top and wraps her mouth around the nipple. She pulls back after a few seconds and looks at you. “I’m going to get in a sitting position and you're going to settle yourself on my strap and ride it.” She tells you and you look down and realise that she put a strap on and you nod.

She goes to sit and you climb on her lap and then slowly go down on the strap, taking the whole thing in you. You then start to go back and forth on it, riding the strap and wrap your arms around her neck and look at her. She grabs your hips and helps you ride her and she feels it rubbing her clit.

“Yes, ride my strap, take your discipline like a good girl.” She tells you and you moan.

“Yes Ms Schemmenti, I’ll be good.” You tell her and she groans. She slips a finger down to your clit and applies pressure and you gasp out and pull her body closer to you. She pulls you in and kisses you and you feel yourself close to coming. “Omg, I’m so close Miss.” You gasp out and she moans.

“I’m close as well, go on baby, come with me.” She says and seconds later you come and she comes right after you. You stop riding her strap and you get off of her. She holds you to her and you’re both trying to catch your breath. While doing that, you hear a knock at the door and you look at the time and realise it’s probably some of the early trick or treaters. “Ignore them, I’m more interested in this treat.” She says and points to you and you giggle.

“I do have to get ready though. I have a Halloween party to get too.” You say to her and go to get up.

“Nooo, but I want you here and don’t want to let you go.” Melissa says to you as she holds you tight and you giggle.

“Well how about you come with me, and then I can come back here with you.” You suggested and she smiled as she accepted your offer.

“Ok deal.” She tells you and then the two of you get ready and go to the party.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

Let me know if you want to be added!

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

didn’t realize this was the liberal arts, part 2

Jason decides to ask you out for coffee. turns out you’re an asshole.

Part 1 is here, rest of series is here

Back again. It’s a series, I’ve decided. This was born because I’ve already written reader as a bitch but it’s funny (see my vampire!reader series), now I want to write reader as a bitch but it’s mean. Jason’s still sad. Like I said, you’re mean.

Swearing. No use of y/n I don’t know how long this is.

————

Jason decides to scout you out. He finds nothing.

It’s extremely irritating. He would expect that there would be something, anything, to suggest that the person he sits next to in his seminar is the same one who goes out and cracks heads at night. But there’s nothing. You seem to be perfectly normal, you act in class like any other person would. Your emotions aren’t heightened, you’re never deeply angry, or deeply upset, or deeply confused. You’re not deeply anything. The most he can say is you get mildly frustrated.

Which is fair. You get frustrated when someone makes a frustrating point. He gets it.

But that’s it. You giggle quietly when someone makes a joke, you purse your lips as you consider a question, you nod when you agree with someone. Other than that, you give him nothing. It’s almost enough to make him believe he didn’t see you beating up his perp last week.

Almost. But he’ll never get the image of you scowling at him, standing over a knocked out drug dealer, out of his mind. That’s there rent free, as it were.

He studies you. Your clothes are exceedingly normal, you wear jeans and sweatshirts. Nothing noteworthy, except Jason does a double take one day because that’s definitely the sweatshirt you wore when Red Hood caught you in the act. And you’re wearing it again like it’s no big deal. At least you’ve cleaned it.

Are you a psychopath? Is this some Patrick Bateman, American Psycho shit? Maybe. It doesn’t seem like you have that many friends. Or any, really. While the other people pair off or leave class in groups, you walk out on your own. Again, fair. He’s a loner, too.

Besides, Jason doesn’t think you’re a psychopath. You weren’t coolly beating the shit out of the guy when he found you, you were furious; uncontrolled anger pushing you forward.

Heh. Been there.

Jason does a cursory search for you online, which also comes up empty. You don’t have any social media accounts, and your last name is an extremely common one that gives him no leads. He could slip into Red Hood and illegally widen his net, but that feels…invasive. The obvious place to start is to take a crack at the Gotham U servers and see if he can access your student account. That’ll get him your phone number and banking info, at the very least. But doing that to a fellow student doesn’t sit right with him. That’s not the only option; he could break into your apartment, or even snatch your phone out of your bag. He doesn’t like that, either.

Jason decides to do an experiment. He asks you out for coffee.

It’s weird. Really weird. It’d be easier if he were working undercover on a Red Hood op, then he could slip into any number of personas. But you already know him as that one dude from your lit class. And if he declares as an English major at the end of next semester, which he probably will, you might be in other classes together. He can’t slip into and out of your life on a whim, he has to do this as Jason.

That makes it a million times harder.

It is hell getting up the courage to talk to you in the first place. Maybe this should surprise him, but it doesn’t. He hasn’t talked to a normal person since before he died. Everything from that point on has been cold, cruel planning, or rebuffing the clumsy attempts of Bruce and Dick to get back in touch. The only people he talks to on the regular are the criminals he’s scaring crapless. And he sure as shit hasn’t made any friends at the university, whether that’s by his design or rough coincidence. This is his first time trying to make a friend in years.

Is that what he’s doing? Does he want to be your friend? That one confuses him. It’s the first time he’s tried to get close to anyone his age since he woke up. Definitely the first time he’s done it as Jason. Does this count as making a friend? If he’s only getting close to you because it’s easier than doing it as Red Hood?

It makes him scratch his head. That’s above his pay grade.

So, asking you out is hard. He decides to rip the bandaid off after your next class. While everyone is packing up, he clears his throat to get your attention.

You look up from your bag. When you register that it’s Jason talking to you, your eyes become guarded. It makes him lose his focus. What was that for?

“Yeah?”

“Uhh…” your gaze becomes disbelieving as he fumbles. “I’m Jason.” He winces.

“Yeah.” His face flushes. This is humiliating. Is it his imagination, or are the other students giggling at him? Is the prof looking at him in sympathy?

Oh my god. Why is this so fucking hard?

“Are you…do you want to get coffee?” He runs his hand over the back of his head. Somewhere, Dick is laughing at this, Jason’s first time asking someone on a date as a college kid.

Is he asking you on a date? His eye twitches.

You still haven’t answered, and Jason’s hoping you’ll turn him down just to put him out of his misery. He’ll leave with his tail between his legs and resigns himself to breaking into your apartment.

“Yeah, okay.”

Jason picks up his head, eyebrows shooting to his hairline. Oh. Great. Mission accomplished.

Something inside jumps at the thought of anyone wanting to spend time with him. Like a flower stretching toward the light.

He temporarily ignores it. Again, above his pay grade.

“Now?” you ask quizzically. Jason shrugs.

“Yeah, why not?” Might as well get this over with.

“Okay.” You finish packing up and follow him out of the building. When you realize he’s heading toward the student center, you frown. “There?”

“Uh, yeah.” It was the only place that had come to mind. “There’s a cafe inside.”

“Do you mind if we go somewhere off campus? This one jacks up the prices.”

Jason tries something he’s seen in movies. “It’s on me.” He gives you an awkward smile.

Your eyes narrow. After staring at him for a few seconds, you shake your head. “No thanks. I’d rather just go somewhere else, if that’s cool.”

Huh. “Yeah, sure,” he says easily, and lets you lead the way. Maybe your refusal should seem strange, but it doesn’t. He’d have done the same thing.

You’re silent as you lead him off campus and a few blocks over to a nondescript coffee shop. It’s not cute or anything, the decoration is minimal, and there are only a few people inside.

He coughs. “You come here often?” On its way out he realizes it sounds like a pickup line, but he genuinely wants to know.

Your eyes narrow at him again. “Sometimes.”

Wow. If you’re going to have a stick up your ass, why’d you agree to come with him in the first place?

Moving aside, you gesture at him to order. He gets a small black coffee with room for milk. You order the same. He finds himself wondering if that’s deliberate, or just your normal coffee order.

You both dump in milk, and Jason notices you sprinkle some cinnamon on top. This is a useless detail.

He hears you scoff. Glancing up, he sees you’ve caught him staring into your cup. He flushes, but lets a sheepish grin unfold on his face. You ignore it, turning and stalking off to a table.

What the hell is your problem? He trails after you, dropping into a seat across from yours. You set your coffee on the table and fold your arms over your chest, glaring at him.

“So, uh…” he racks his brain. “How do you like the class?”

“It’s fine.”

He waits a moment, but you don’t ask any follow up questions. “What do you think of Paradise Lost? Do you like it?”

“Oh, sure. ‘Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven,’” you recite easily.

Jason resist the urge to analyze your choice of quote. For one, it feels stupid, and for another, it’s arguably the most famous quote in the whole poem. That’ll get him nowhere.

“Yeah,” he says lamely. You raise your coffee to your lips.

Again, he waits for you to ask him a question, but you remain silent, drinking your coffee steadily. Damn. Why the hell are you so closed off? He squints at you, and you stare back openly. You’re deliberately trying to keep him in the dark. But then why did you agree to get coffee?

Faced with your hostility, he relaxes. You clearly don’t like him, so what does he have to lose?

“What do you think you’ll study?” he asks you.

You flick something off your sweatshirt. “Literature, probably,” you say off-handed.

He nods. “Me too,” he offers, but you stare at him blankly.

He chuckles. Seems like you’re an asshole, but this is actually kind of fun.

“Why’d you come to Gotham U?” he prods.

You shrug. He opens his mouth. “Really? No reas—”

“Why did you come to Gotham U?” you cut across him bitingly.

That stops him short. He can’t help it, he shrugs, knowing you won’t like it.

You roll your eyes. He stifles a grin.

“Did you grow up in Gotham?”

“Yes.” You don’t elaborate.

“Where?”

“Did you grow up in Gotham?” you parrot instead of answering.

He inclines his head at you, smiling. “Yeah.”

“Where?” Jason doesn’t answer, smiling knowingly at you. You scoff and look away.

“You got any siblings?”

You hesitate. Jason clocks it eagerly. “Yeah,” you say, a second later.

“How many?”

“You got any siblings?” you ask instead of answering.

That pulls Jason up short. He should’ve seen that one coming, probably should have avoided it by not asking you in the first place. He pauses, for much longer than you did. He half notices you catch it, but his mind is elsewhere.

Does he have any siblings? That would mean he has a father. He can’t go down that path.

He chews on his lip, absently watching you watch him. Bruce might not be his father, but Dick…he and Dick are something. Not friends, definitely not friends. Maybe brother is the best word.

“Yes,” he settles on eventually.

You raise an eyebrow, and he braces himself, but you don’t ask him how many. Instead, you look away, gulping down your coffee.

You’re obviously not going to make an effort. Jason tries again. “What do you do for fun?”

“Nothing.”

He bursts out laughing, and you look at him accusatorially. He can’t help it.

“No sports or anything like that?”

“No.”

“No martial arts?”

This gets your attention. “Maybe,” you say begrudgingly. “Why do you want to know?”

Jason leans back in his chair. “Just trying to make a friend.” He looks at you earnestly, barely hiding his glee.

“Pick someone else.”

That makes him laugh all over again. What crawled up your ass and died? By the way you’re acting, you’d think it was Jason.

His laughter seems to make you furious. “What do you do for fun, then?” you shoot across the table.

Jason smiles, laughter dying out. “Nothing,” he looks at you innocently. Actually, it’s the same shit as you.

You glare at him, lifting your coffee to your lips. Jason realizes your cup is almost empty. You’re probably trying to escape, but Jason’s having too much fun to let you get away. Besides, he’s still got some questions.

“You done? Here, let me get you a refill.” He jumps to his feet before you can stop him, all but running to the counter. Getting your coffee gives him time to think.

So martial arts, huh? That’s what he’d thought. He’s seen you move around campus, you can’t be that well trained, or you’re taking great pains to hide it. Jason’s got good eyes though, and he thinks you’re pretty unskilled. That’s enough to get the drop on most petty criminals.

He considers this as he pays for your drink. You’re not well-trained, and you don’t have any weapons or tactical gear. You’re probably not trying to break out as Gotham’s newest vigilante. It seems like this is a short-term thing, you’re on some kind of mission.

He remembers how angry you were as you beat that guy to a pulp. Some kind of revenge mission, maybe? Plenty of reasons to want revenge in Gotham.

Jason looks back to you, half expecting you to have left when his back was turned. But no, there you are, holding a five dollar bill between your fingers. He chuckles, adds milk and a splash of cinnamon to your drink before returning to the table. You wave the money in his face, and he takes it from you.

“I get to keep the change, then?”

“No.”

He smiles, fishes out his wallet and hands you a dollar. You squint at him, holding out your hand for the remaining fifty cents. “That’s my tip, because I remembered to add cinnamon to yours.” He grins wildly.

“Okay.” You rise to your feet, pulling on your jacket. “This has been great, but I’ve got shit to do.” You pick up the coffee and walk out.

“We’ll do this again?” he calls to you. You don’t even look back at him.

Jason smirks through the rest of his coffee. He didn’t learn shit about you, but damn. This ‘date’ just made his whole week.

[mysterystarz]

black tie losers

geto suguru x f!reader

in which you’re at a charity gala and come to the realization that maybe being best friends with suguru is no longer an option

a/n: when i thought of this i ran to write bc geto in a suit

feedback is so appreciated <3

“stay still. if you keep moving, you’re going to look like a clown.”

geto sits in front of you on a stool, tie messily done up as he holds a lipliner pencil in his hands. he’s grinning at his work — because true to his words, you looked like a clown.

“suguru, you can’t line lips for shit.” you sigh, rummaging through your things to find some makeup remover. “remind me why i let you do this again?”

geto laughs, grinning at you in a way that was oddly wholesome. “because i wanted to help you get ready for tonight. there’s nothing better than taking credit for the date on my arm.”

date indeed—a platonic one.

you and geto were attending your university’s biggest charity gala tonight. as one of the most successful black tie events on campus, each attendee was required to look straight out of vogue magazine to ensure they raised enough money to make a difference.

geto—ever the gentleman—asked you to be his date. he wouldn’t get hounded by the customary droves of girls, and you’d have someone to match with.

of course, being your best friend, he decided to help you get ready.

he watched patiently as you dabbed the streak of lipliner away, smiling gently when you turned back to meet his eyes. he wordlessly moved forward to cup your cheeks, finishing up lining your cupids bow.

“there,” he said softly, “now some lipstick.” you gestured to the various tubes on your desk as you moved to dust some highlighter on your cheeks.

geto picked a particularly lovely shade and smoothly glided it across your lips. he seemed proud at his handiwork, beaming at you happily as soon as he finished.

“take a look,” he smirked, and you did just that. the mirror showed you someone beautiful.

somehow, stupid suguru had actually done a good job.

“nice job,” you mumbled, feeling oddly shy beneath his gaze. he cleaned up nice tonight—a bit too nice. so nice that you weren’t sure how to act around him when he attempted to tie his tie.

“you mean sensational job,” he laughed, flinging his tie around. “also please help. i can’t do this.”

you sighed as you moved closer to fix his tie. you could catch a whiff of his cologne — something fresh and oddly mouthwatering and it nearly made you screw up the final flip of the fabric.

suguru was acting a bit different, and it was driving you crazy. his presence was much closer than usual, and with every passing day, it seemed impossible to ignore the glaringly obvious fact that’d been looming over you for weeks.

geto suguru, your best friend, was an extremely attractive man.

you still weren’t sure how to handle this information. so far, it’d been unwarranted blushes and a whole lot of random butterflies where there shouldn’t be.

you supposed the gala would give you time to think—but you were wrong.

geto walked in through the ornately decorated doors with a smile, an arm threaded through his hair and the other wrapped around your waist. from this point, you could see all your fellow students interacting with the heads of various charities, and donations racking up by the second.

suguru stayed close, his touch firm and steady and searing and confusing in ways you couldn’t understand.

“would you like to explore a bit?” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

too flustered to speak, you wordlessly nodded as he dragged you to the photo booth at the edge of the venue.

“these are awesome,” he laughed, holding up a particularly unclassy mustache prop. you cringed, distancing yourself as much as you good within the tiny space to show your disapproval.

suguru pulled you closer again, his hands caressing your waist in a way that was more reverent than anything you’d ever felt. he was too close…it was too much.

he leaned close to you, gently pressing his forehead against yours.

“maybe i did too good of a job tonight,” he said lowly, tracing your lips with his finger.

“suguru,” you breathed out, “what is going on?”

he pulled away grinning. “you had a dusting of highlighter a bit too close to this one spot of your nose. i had to distract you so you wouldn’t stop me from touching your face.”

you groaned in frustration while suguru posed jubilantly for the camera.

the gala was beautiful. the pictures with suguru were super candid. neither of those were your major takeaways.

as you returned to your room for the night, you knew one thing for certain. suguru geto had become someone more than a best friend to you and there was nothing you could do about it.

unknown to you, suguru fell asleep that night dreaming of you, and all the ways he’d kiss you if he had the chance.

[wearenemies]

what do peterick each teach in this university lecturer au …. ?

this is a great and lovely question and i love you so much 👍 i would say patrick would be a constantly slightly wired music theory professor. i imagine that he’d come off as a little intimidating and strict, like he’d want to appear relatively professional and be as clearly good at his job as he can be, so i feel like he might be considered a little scary just by virtue of the fact that he’s mr professor guy, but if you catch him outside of class hours or email him for an extension and he’s totally the sweetest in lieu of pete’s ‘patrick looks like a teddy bear but really gets the fucking job done’. he’s mostly a lecturer but also does stuff with the school’s music societies (think conducting the college band and helping with the acapella group) i feel like he’s actively working on the most tedious sounding paper in the world but he’s SO excited about it and will take any opportunity to bring it up in conversation. i think he’d very rarely talk about his life outside of work because he’d like to ‘maintain a healthy work-life separation’ (plus he likes the drama of it) and thus he’s considered kind of an enigma. also pete bought him one of those ‘i have a phd (pretty huge dick)’ t shirts. he thinks he’s funny

pete would teach i think creative writing and he’d mostly do shorter workshops both for enrolled students and the wider local community (middle schools etc) focused more on getting people to enjoy the craft of writing something over doing it for a grade, but would still run regular traditional lectures and whatnot. he’d have a less traditionally professional professorial vibe than patrick, like he’d be wearing his big mohair cardigans and he’d be very forthcoming about his misguided youth in the hardcore scene and would frequently bring up and gush over his nameless partner. i imagine him being endearingly cringe in the how-do-you-do-fellow-kids manner and appearing a little frazzled and soft-spoken outside of his classes, because patrick has a significant leg up on him in the one-on-one conversation department. he’d always to an almost obnoxious degree be attempting to shill his bizarre novel but get bashful when it’s brought up to him <3

the way i imagine it being laid out as a piece of writing is focused on either a student who majors in some kind of music field and is taking one of pete’s shorter workshop classes as a supplemental credit because it looked fun, OR a relatively new co-worker of theirs. it’d take place over the course of around 3-4 months and primarily focus on this person’s ever so slightly unhealthy curiosity towards both the wider question of what patrick’s whole deal is outside of work and more specifically who on the faculty patrick is dating because he once made the mistake of letting slip that his partner worked at the same place as him <3 the conceit lies in the fact it’d be functionally completely unknown that they’re together amongst the student population and this would be maintained primarily through the fact that a) they seem very different in terms of their interests and behaviours b) they are rarely seen to interact because they teach mostly on different areas of campus c) patrick is crucially very private about his life and times d) pete despite otherwise being a total blabbermouth would refuse outright to speak on the subject because he loves and respects his special little man and e) 9/10 times it’s funnier to lie to people than it is to tell them the truth. so they’re functionally the pre-2019 dan and phil of chicago university lecturers

other facets of this universe include the fact that patrick has a bear pride flag sticker on his owala and his students struggle to discern whether or not he understands that it is in fact a pride flag sticker, and that pete keeps telling increasingly ambitious lies to his students about his life for the sake of his own sick entertainment. significantly, patrick won’t really be a singer: my vision for the backstory is that patrick did join pete and joe’s pop punk project but was too shy to do vocals and it fell apart after a few months but they all remained very close friends. i imagine that he does sing and does still have a beautiful voice, he’s just not really interested in doing anything with it 🫶

[bun-lapin]

Mayhem VS Mystery - Chapter 1

Summary: A mysterious letter arrives at Ramshackle and the first years assemble

Word Count: 1.2k Genre: Crack/Comedy Characters: Grim, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Ortho, Sebek, (oc) Yuna & Yuuji (intro post here) CW: swearing, halloween costumes, friendly bickering

A/N: The beginning of my first Halloween fic featuring the first years and my Yuu OCs where they pull a variety of pranks at NRC! The teachers will also get some screen time! Stay tuned~! <3

Next Part - Fic on AO3

Deuce looks over at Ace with a puzzled frown and asks, “Do you know why they wanted us to come over today? I’ve probably got at least fifty messages from them bugging me about it.”

Ace flips over the doormat in front of Ramshackle Dorm’s main entrance and picks up a small key. After unlocking and opening the door, he shrugs at Deuce and answers, “No idea. Your guess is as good as mine.”

They walk into the rundown, little building and make their way towards the lounge. Seated on the various couches and arm chairs around the room are their fellow first years: Jack, Epel, Ortho, and Sebek. Standing next to the lounge’s nondescript coffee table, Yuna, Yuuji, and Grim seem to be carefully studying a black colored envelope.

Looking up at the two Heartslabyul students, Yuna dryly remarks, “Look who decided to finally show up. Also, thanks for breaking and entering!”

Ace plants his hands on his hips and retorts, “Ya know, it’s not really breaking and entering if I used a key to get in here. You need to find a better hiding spot for that thing.”

Deuce shakes his head with a small sigh and asks, “Why did you two call us over so urgently? Did something happen?”

Yuna wordlessly holds up the black envelope for everyone to see. Opening it, she takes out a letter printed on expensive looking card stock and begins to read aloud.

“Dear residents of Ramshackle Dorm, in the week leading up to Halloween, I commission you to create as much mayhem as possible on campus. Bodily harm is not permitted but you may cause as much property damage as you'd like. The end goal of your work is to cause Night Raven College to be shut down for Halloween. In the event of your success, 10,000 thaumarks will anonymously be sent to you as a reward.”

Yuna looks up and glances over at her fellow isekai adventurer, “10,000 thaumarks? Is that a lot? What’s the conversion rate here?”

Yuuji scoffs and answers dismissively, “Ugh! Don’t ask me, I’m gay. Can’t do math.”

“Bullshit! You’re ranked second in our class, you nerd!”

Turning up his nose with a small pout, Yuuji defiantly replies, “Fine! I’m gay and I won’t do math! Happy?!”

Yuna opens her mouth to continue arguing, but Ace smoothly steps in between the two of them and put his hands up in a placating motion. “Alright! We get it! It’s a lot of money,” he says in a loud voice. Raising his eyebrows skeptically, he continues, “But why did you call so many of us here? Now that we know about this deal, you’ll all get a smaller cut of the reward.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Yuna replies, “Considering there’s only one person in Ramshackle Dorm who can use magic, I figured it’d be too difficult to spread full scale mayhem across campus. That’s why I called you, Epel, and Ortho to help us out!”

Deuce, Jack, and Sebek exchange confused glances. Politely clearing his throat, Jack gestures to the group of three and asks, “If that’s the case, what are we doing here?”

Yuuji raises his hand and answers Jack, “Actually, I’m the one who called you guys here.” Walking over to Yuna, he snatches the paper from her hands and reads the rest of the letter aloud.

“For those not wishing to cause mayhem, you may try your best to locate me, your mysterious benefactor, and hand me over to the authorities. In that unlikely event, you will still receive half of the promised money and zero risk of academic retribution."

Glancing up from the letter, Yuuji explains to the room, “I’d rather not do anything that could cause us to be kicked out of school. Especially since we’re from another world and literally have no where else to go.”

Yuna lets out a short cough that sounds like, ‘Nerd!’

Ace coughs out, ‘Fun police!’

The two of them grin mischievously and then high-five each other.

Yuuji closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. In a voice filled with barely restrained fury, he says, “Would all of the good and responsible students please follow me so that we can begin our investigation??”

Turning swiftly on his heel, he exits the room followed dutifully by Jack, Sebek, and Deuce.

After waiting for the door to softly click shut, Yuna then turns to the remaining students and claps her hands together decisively. With an excited grin, she states, “Alright! Time to put on our costumes!”

~~~

Shifting the wooden oni mask over her face, Yuna knocks on the bathroom door and calls out, “Hurry up, Epel! Everyone else is already dressed!”

Epel’s muffled voice yells back through the door, “I’m goin’ as fast as I can! Y’all just hold on to yer britches!”

Yuna tilts her head, “...Britches?”

Wearing a black and white striped sweater and a black ski mask, Ace gestures towards Yuna’s costume and asks, “While we’re waiting, care to explain what you’re supposed to be? Are you some kinda demon?”

“Close! I’m a Namahage,” Yuna replies and strikes a menacing pose, her straw cape rustling softly around her small frame. “It’s a type of demon from my world that punishes naughty or lazy children. Yuuji’s dad would sometimes dress up as one and try to scare me and Yuuji when we were little.”

Grim taps his paw against Yuna’s leg and says, “Sorry to cut the cultural lesson short, but why am I dressed as a stinkin’ toy!?” Completely covering his entire head is a fuzzy, brown teddy bear mask with an adorable expression. Covering the rest of his body, Grim wears a full-body pajama suit made of the same fuzzy, brown fabric. In fact, if it wasn’t for the extremely cranky voice coming behind the mask, Grim would be indistinguishable from a super cute teddy bear plushie.

Yuna shrugs her shoulders apologetically and answers, “Sorry, buddy! If we’re gonna get away with massive property damage, we need costumes that completely disguise who we are! And since you’re the only student on campus that’s a small, magical cat-creature with flaming ears, it’s vital we totally cover up the fact that it’s you.”

Ace gestures over towards Ortho and remarks, “That explains Ortho’s costume then. He’s probably the second-most recognizable student on campus! Ya know, with him being a robot with flaming blue hair and all?”

Completely covered by a white bed sheet with two cutout eye-holes, Ortho wiggles his hands under the sheet and says with a playful laugh, “Hey! I’m not a robot! I’m a spooky ghost~!”

Floating past the small group, the resident Ramshackle Dorm ghosts give Ortho a sidelong glance. The smallest of the ghosts whispers to the others, “I’d almost be highly offended if that costume wasn’t so darn cute!” The other two ghosts nod silently in agreement.

Finally opening the bathroom door, Epel steps out and says, “Alright! I’m done! What do ya’ll think of my bona fide scarecrow costume?” He lifts his arms, clad in a red checkered shirt and denim overalls, into a scarecrow-like pose. Over his head is a burlap sack with rough, zigzag stitches hastily sewn over two frayed eye-holes and a gaping mouth.

The group stares at Epel in silence for a few minutes.

Dropping a heavy hand on Epel’s shoulder, Yuna gives him a thumbs up and simply states, “It’s fucking terrifying.”

(To be Continued)

Next Part

[oddeyevibes]

Some Trix headcanons (with extra witch stuff)

I think it’s dumb for witches to be seen as too deceitful to be able to work with each other. So I headcanon witches just say that to make themselves seem scarier to fairies. Like of course they would make covens all the time, the ancestral witches were a powerful coven and ideally most witches go to Cloud Tower with the intent of graduating with their new found sisters.

I especially think they would have covens as a way to compete with the power of fairies who wouldn’t really need to make them since so much of the magic dimension empowers them while witches would probably have to thrive off of more negative forces.

That being said, Witches & Fairies exist on a more yin and yang type of spectrum. I can see every fairy having a witch that acts as an opposite. You can’t have a light fairy without a witch of darkness. Can’t have a fire fairy without a witch of ice. Or even something like you can’t have a fairy of polyester without a witch of silk lol.

There has to be a school that teaches both witches and fairies. I imagine whoever runs it wishes to create a more hospitable relationship between the two groups.

There are places where witches aren’t stigmatized which is why you don’t so many in places like Magix outside of the Cloud Tower staff and students.

—————

Ok now Trix centered ones.

I think it’d be interesting for Stormy to be from Linphea. Since the weather plays a huge part in the growth of plant life. I always saw her as Flora’s opposite. With Flora representing the beauty of nature and Stormy representing its wrath. And it goes with my whole idea of Fairies being stronger alone because Flora’s domain is so much of nature and plant life while Stormy is really in control of one form of weather.

I would imagine Stormy is from a part of Linphea where weather magic users are more common even fairies of weather but they’re less passive than the folks where Flora lives. Like you’ll have fairies and witches that symbolize things like controlled fires, wild fires and storms which is where Stormy would come in but she’s just more akin to a pyromaniac as she likes the destruction storms can cause.

I also headcanon Darcy is from Solaria but she is from the part heavily influenced by the Moon. Because I do think it’s interesting how both Darcy and Stella are kind of like the free birds of their groups because Darcy always have goth hippy vibes. So I imagine it’s a Solaria thing. So being from the Moon region of Solaria, Darcy’s powers are not just darkness but also illusions.

Imagine this being how the Trix initially learn about the ring of Solaria where Darcy casually mentions royal family heirlooms and they mistakenly believe it might hold the Dragon’s Flame. But I also think when Stella is kidnapped in the first season it’s because Darcy would know especially how to manipulate a fellow Solarian since she would probably have experience.

The Trix would sabotage other budding covens in Cloud Tower because they felt it challenged their rule as the Queen Bees of the school.

Darcy wasn’t AS mean alone as when she’s with the others because she was normally reading or training with her magic. But trying to interrupt her or brown nose while she’s enjoying her solitude will make her emotionally DESTROY you and god help you if she tells Icy and Stormy.

Icy used to get bullied hard as a freshmen because she was more like Marta which is what really changed her.

In general, all three of them were loners (not by choice) because their personalities never meshed well with the other witches. Icy wasnt as mean, Darcy was more of a live and let live person, and Stormy was considered TOO much. Each were bullied and singled out and thats how they gravitated towards each other.

Icy is the only one who’s heterosexual. I imagine in places like Solaria and Linphea, sexuality and gender isn’t as strict or overtly labeled and folks just do whatever they want. So both Darcy and Stormy never THOUGHT to be committed to the opposite gender in a way Icy probably had to as a princess that would’ve been expected to produce heirs.

I think largely, Icy is very disciplined because of her upbringing. Which is why she clashes with other witches as a freshmen because they were more chaotic. Especially since there aren’t many other royal witches who she can relate to.

I don’t like the idea that Icy never told Darcy and Stormy about her past because by then we see that the Trix are there for each other no matter what. So I headcanon that Icy tells them sometime during their 2nd or 3rd year and they actually console her and promise to keep her secret.

I think it works to showcase the Trix have Just as much a strong bond as the Winx as their rivals. Like showcasing that there can be strong bonds in the light (Winx) and in the Darkness (Trix). And it subtly showcases how witches and fairies aren’t different. There a group of beings aren’t evil just by existing. They’re evil because of their choices.

Icy might not have started out evil and only set out to become a powerful witch but she realized she liked it. She liked the feeling of control, she like the feeling of controlling the fate of others in the same way the witch that destroyed her family. And so long as she was in control, she’ll never be hurt again. She’ll hurt whoever. Just never her sister. And never her coven sisters…much.

Darcy lived in a commune. I imagine she didn’t really have much. But I also imagine she didn’t really want for much either. She’s an odd one and it’s often surprising for people back home to learn that she turned out so evil. They’ll often be like “THAT Darcy??? Trying to take over Magix?? I mean yeah, she was a little hooligan back in the day but I didn’t think she was THAT evil.”

And Darcy was a hooligan. Like I said before, a free bird. Live and let live. She didn’t want power or wealth or fame per se. Definition of “I just wanna do hood rat shit with my friends”. And you’d think that be mainly Stormy and yeah it is but Darcy is the type to just be like “I’m bored, let’s go bully someone”. It’s hard to describe what her brand of chaos is. She’s kind of like a toned down Lestat in some ways.

The only one who actually like horrors movies is Icy. She’s the type of person to tell you CONSTANTLY how SHE’D survive if she was in those situations and it gets on the others nerves. Darcy is more of a thriller person and Stormy is very predictable in liking action movies and disaster flicks.

Stormy also enjoys nature documentaries. Specifically those about insects from Earth. Her favorites being spiders, Praying Mantises (praying manti??), and Stick Bugs. She likes watching stickbugs dancing.

Darcy also is fond of bugs as seen in season 1. She in particular likes the REALLY creepy crawlies. She misses the army of decay bugs at times.

I wrote so much without realization it but I’ll end it here.

[girl-named-matty]

Could we please get some Professor Weasley headcanons? I was looking at the headcanons masterlist, and thinking about her

Of course! Sorry this took a hot minute. <333 Random Professor Weasley HCs!!

Has several siblings, mostly brothers. 

Was a prefect and a Head girl in her time at school. 

Excelled exceptionally in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Charms. 

Helped her fellow students with their homework. 

Mom friend 100% 

Deek was her first really good friend at school. After that, she made friends pretty easily. 

She was always told that she’d make a really good Ravenclaw, but her loyalties lay with Gryffindor. 

Graduated at the top of her year. 

Aside from her intelligence and smarts, she’s also extremely powerful. Just like Hecat, to her, knowledge equals power. And through her knowledge, she was able to teach herself to become extremely powerful and disciplined when it came to her magic. 

After school, she didn’t expect to become a Curse-Breaker but she quickly took to it and began to love it. 

Despite him always causing trouble, Garreth is one of her nephews that she’s closest to. 

She was never serious about relationships but if she ever got married, it’d be very lowkey. Romantic but not flaunty and very private. So much so that most people don’t even know about it. 

Never had any kids and she prefers to be the cool and intelligent aunt. 

When she first became a professor, she took to it very quickly. She loves her students so much and greatly cares about their safety and education. 

She’s super good friends with Professor Hecat and has a rather fun and lighthearted relationship with Madam Kogawa. Who knew Professor Weasley loved quidditch? 

She lightly jokes that patience has been her best quality since working at the school–whether it was because of her students or Professor Black. But in reality, she isn’t joking. 

Overall, she’s an extremely talented witch and a wonderful woman.

[lunaswritingcafe]

" . . . AND EVERY TIME YOU BREATHE HIS AIR"

" PART I "

FEATURING Elphaba, Fiyero and Glinda. GENRE angst and fluff SUMMARY after their kiss Elphaba pushes Fiyero away again and decides to tell Glinda the truth but doesn't want to hurt her, resulting in Fiyero taking things into his own hands.

Series list here !!

warnings: none that I know but pls let me know if I missed anything. Also I am kinda turning Fiyero into an fboy, it is unintentional but goes with the story so pls don't get offended by that. pls do not steal or copy my work, reblogs are v appreciated tho, and thank you for waiting 🫶🏻🤧 a/n: I am trying my best with this series so I hope you all enjoy it. If you have any feedback or suggestions feel free to let me know! thank you for waiting! 🫶🏻

Blue birds chirping in the trees, some flying over the most refreshing clear water you’d ever seen. It was so relaxing to watch the waterfalls as frogs jumped from lily pads and the fish swimming along by her feet. It was truly a breathtaking sight, one of Elphaba’s favorite things about Shiz in fact, was the garden. It was peaceful, quiet, something a lot of the students here seem to take for granted as it is usually empty most days. She considered it her sanctuary, a place to study, a place to calm herself from stress, to free her mind and escape from the harsh realities of life. And now, apparently, it was the place she’d go to get her mind off of kissing her best friend’s boyfriend.

Elphaba was still in disbelief with herself, the shared moment between her and Fiyero on replay in her mind, thinking of what she could've done different, what could've been if she hadn’t allowed herself to fall weak for even just a few seconds. There’s was nothing she could do though, Elphie realized that there was no point in hiding, although wished her lesson's with Madame Morrible included more transfiguration spells than levitation, wanting nothing more but to join the birds in their sanctuary. It’d be useless though, Glinda would never let it be, the thought of her “using” her magic on every feathered creature just to find her made Elphaba chuckle. Glinda was so sweet, she risked her popularity for an outcast, for her Elphie, the pain was too much, there was no way she could face her, neither of them,

“There you are” A deep voice spoke, pulling Elphaba’s eyes away from the water.

Fiyero, why was he here, she was surprised that he even knew the garden existed since he’s always off at parties. Her mouth opened but no response, nothing. She struggled to find the words, still stunned, instead she turned back towards the water.

The prince let out a faint chuckle in response, sensing her hesitation to speak, “Shocking to see you have nothing to say now” He toyed, trying to lighten the mood and perhaps ease the thoughts running through her mind.

Still nothing, the witch kept to herself and her fish friends, “Look darling, we have two options here” Slowly he began to walk closer, “We could go our separate ways, pretend like nothing ever happened. Just like before.” Now standing behind her, the prince crouches down, “Or, you could tell me how you really feel” His whispered lowly in her ear as his hand brushed her hair to her right shoulder, his lips just inches away from her neck.

The action made Elphie’s eyes widened, “I-I don't know what you're talking about” She finally spoke, denying his claims of her feelings for him,

“Oh don’t act coy now sweetheart, I've seen the way you look at me.” Her eyes widened, cursing herself for not being more careful.

There were times that she would take a few glances at him, whether it’s between chapters of her book that she’d read during breakfast before class, or maybe when her eyes needed a break from all the note-taking she’d stare at him making a fool of himself trying to convince his fellow classmates not to study. It was easy to be unnoticed when her and Glinda weren’t friends, but now her and Fiyero are a package deal so it’s almost impossible to look at him without noticing,

“And you cannot tell me you’re still not thinking about our kiss” Chills run down her spin as the prince spoke into her skin, his lips now leaving small kisses on her neck.

For a moment she leaned into him, her eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his kisses, but that guilt, that guilt was still in the pit of her stomach, making it impossible to ignore, “I-It doesn’t matter, we can’t” She tried protesting, pushing the prince back with her elbow but this time he wouldn’t budge,

“Why’s that darling? Glinda hasn’t been your friend for long, don’t you remember how cruel she was to you?” His hand snaking around her waist pulling her back into him while the other cups her cheek, forcing Elphie to look at him, “I can make sure she never hurts you again darling, let me protect you”

The prince’s lips travel from her neck to her jaw then her lips, placing yet another sweet kiss on them. Only this time it was more rough, passionate but rough, like he was hungry for her, like he couldn’t breathe without her love, “It’s okay sweetheart, just let yourself fall” His words so sweet and kind, but no.

“I said we can’t!” Her voice firmed as she pushed Fiyero into the air, before dropping him moments later. The prince was shocked but couldn’t help but notice how hot Elphie looked when using her magic.

“We can’t” She repeated, this time at a normal volume, “I pick the first one” Was all Elphie added before gathering her school bag and began leaving the garden, her words leaving the prince confused but realized she was speaking of their options,

“It will just get harder to suppress darling” His words making her stop for a brief moment, “All I’m saying is you shouldn’t have to hide your feelings for others” but it wasn’t just others though, yes Elphie knew the whole school would judge her which is nothing new, the only person she cared about though was Glinda, her judgment was the only one that matter. It was hard to explain but ever since they met she felt tied to her, like Elphie couldn’t be away from her for too long or she’d go mad. So yes, perhaps Elphaba did have feelings for Fiyero but not one’s she was willing to pursue if it resulted in her losing her best friend.

Without another word Elphaba continued walking, giving no acknowledgement to Fiyero’s comments. She spent the rest of the afternoon studying in the library, drowning herself in work in order to get her mind off of today which seemed to have work for a short amount of time until the sun began to set, meaning it was time for everyone to head to their rooms. Elphie took her time though, slowly putting her books and pens away, returning the books to their respective shelves, doing her best to stall, making sure she is the last student to leave. Stalling was useless though, Elphaba was determined to just tell Glinda the truth hoping she would understand and figure out how they could get past this. But by the time she arrived to their room Glinda was no where to be seen,

“Glinda?” Elphie called but got no response. The witch soon realized the door to their shared balcony was open, “Glinda its so cold out get-” she pauses realizing she had fallen fast asleep at the tea table, her delicate face laid upon a book with her wand in hand.

Elphie smiled taking in the sight, she looked so cute and peaceful, she knew how hard Glinda had been working to improve her magic, working with her and Madame Morrible and apparently now on her own. It was quite charming actually, how dedicated Glinda was, all year she never gave her studies a passing glance but magic was different, it meant much more to her

“Hey, hun? Glinda? Let’s get you to bed” Elphie spoke softly, lifting her friend up and placing her arm over Elphie’s neck, with another arm placed around her waist for support,

“Hmm? Elphie?” “Yea its me hun” She chuckled. Glinda’s eyes were fully opened now taking in her surroundings and realizing she had fallen asleep while learning a spell.

“Wait!” She panicked rushing to cover the book, “You can't look, close your eyes!” She ordered with a stern, yet still sleepy look, pointing her finger towards her friend, “It’s . . . a surprise . . . for Fiyero . . that you can't see, turn around!” Glinda spoke frantically, trying her best to come up with an lie.

Technically it was a surprise, just not for Fiyero though. Elphie arched her brow in confusion but knew Glinda was past sleep deprived and went along with her command,

“Alright” The green witch turned away while the her friend frantically gathered her book and papers, “No peeking!” She shouted making Elphaba laugh, “I'm not, just hurry” rolling her eyes but still holding a small smile.

After she had gathered her things, the two friends reentered their shared bedroom and closed the door to protect them from the cold midnight air. The blonde sat at her vanity, combing her hair while Elphie brushed her teeth in the bathroom behind Glinda but was in the view of her mirror,

“How was the rest of your day? I didn't see you at all after the situation in History today” and there it was again, the guilt. It started eating her up again, she was prepared to just be upfront and honest with Glinda but now, facing her, she couldn't even form the words, “And you didn't show up to our lessons either . . .”Focusing more on Elphie than her hair, eyes pinned on her best friend through the reflection.

Elphaba mentality slapped herself realizing she had missed today's magic lessons after class, after everything that had happened earlier the stress from Dr.Dillamond and now kissing her best friend’s boyfriend was effecting her so much she was forgetting everything from the time to her schedule,

“Is everything alright Elphie? Im sorry about what happened to Dr. Dillamond, we can talk about it?” She offered, trying to read her friends face wondering what could be bothering her,

“Y-Yeah I’m fine, it's just upsetting is all” Her reply was quick before rinsing her mouth and exiting their shared bathroom, “I’m sorry for making you worry” She forced a smile, hugging Glinda from behind while looking at her in the mirror now.

The two stared at each other realizing they both had more to say but instead let silence fill the room, “Let’s get to bed angel, we’ve got class tomorrow” Elphie pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head, making Glinda match her smile, forced and faint with a hint of sadness in her eyes, although she didn't push on the subject anymore.

The two hugged before heading to their beds, needing sleep but both being forced to stay awake by their thoughts and worries.

The next morning began just the same as any other morning, doing their regular routine as usual in their shared space. After showering Glinda sat at her vanity again prepping her skin and hair for the day while Elphie reviewed notes for today's lessons. Since their new friendship began to blossom you couldn’t get the two to shut up, whether it’s Glinda singing her whole morning routine in order to make Elphie laugh or perhaps Elphaba reading her notes aloud because Glinda forgot to study the night before. Either way it was never quite as quiet as it now, only the sounds of Glinda brushing through her golden locks and Elphie packing up her bag with textbooks.

While carefully tapping her blush on her cheekbones, Glinda glanced up at Elphie, her eyes focused on the notes she had taken yesterday, “Elphie, yesterday after Dr. Dillamond was taken and everyone fell asleep, when I woke up and the lion cub was gone, so were you and Fiyero” which made her friend pause in horror.

“He was just helping me save the cub, that’s all” Her reply quick, eyes never leaving the page.

“I know, I’m just” She sighed, now giving her full attention to her friend, ‘I’m just saying, I’ve would of helped you Elphie. No matter what” She spoke softly, her brows furrowed in concern for her friend.

Elphaba smiled in response, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as her hair drapes over both sides of her face, doing her best to conceal her expression. Hearing those words from Glinda filled her stomach with butterflies, but this wasn’t the first time it had happened though. There were a few moments during these past few weeks whether it was Glinda’s hair flips or when they held hands, where she felt this same giddiness, like a spark was suddenly lit within her. It was something indescribable, something she had never felt, even with Fiyero which confused the hell out of her.

Without another moment of silence, Elphaba looked up towards her roommate with a bright smile, putting her bag down before pulling up a chair next to her vanity and gently grabbing her hands,

“I’m sorry, I was simply just thinking of the cub's safety. I won’t leave you behind again alright?” She coos, pushing away strands of her hair out of her face, her finger lightly brushing her delicate skin in the process, making Glinda almost lean into her touch, “Alright” She nods with a smile as the two giggle and hug.

“Attention!” Suddenly a voice yelled, breaking up their sweet moment. The two pulled away from each other, looking confused as they rushed to the balcony, “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” The voice spoke again, just on octave lower this time. Glinda and Elphaba stood by the railing, a hand in one another as they looked down realizing it was Fiyero. He stood next to his horse Feldspar who was pushing a carriage full of flowers,

“Now, I’m sure everyone is aware that me and my sweet darling Glinda have been deeply in love for the past two months now” He began, a bright smile upon his face, making Glinda squeal with joy, Elphaba joining along momentarily forgetting about the day before, “And I have enjoyed every single moment with her” His words sweet and loving as he continues to declare his love for her to his fellow classmates while Glinda stared down at him with a giant smile, her heart on fire as she gushes over the man she planned on marrying.

From any point of view, the scene looked liked a proposal which may have seemed a little too soon, but not for Glinda. It was perfect, could of perhaps been a bit more grand but still very sweet. Nonetheless she stood prepared to say yes as many times as she could before running down to her now fiance.

“But, it’s because I love her, that I have to be honest”

The words like a boulder to Glinda's heart as Fiyero had finally made eye contact with her, his expression sad and begging for forgiveness before looking at Elphaba. It was like if time had stopped as the witch stood still, frozen, dreading his next words, and instead begged him with glossy eyes not to speak, to say anything but what she feared, “These past few weeks my heart has lied in the hands of someone else, someone whom I can't seem to get my mind off of" He spoke softly, giving Elphie a look a reassurance that everything would be okay, “No matter how hard I try”

The two women stood there in silenced, one with a single tear running down her face as more gathered in her waterline, while the other was frozen, eyes wide and felt as if she was being choked, like she couldn't speak nor breathe.

“Elphaba, darling please. I can't shield these feelings a moment longer” His words loud and clear making everyone gasp, turning towards the green skinned girl in shock and disgust.

Silence again from both girls, their once intertwined hands falling from each other slowly, as if the bind Elphaba had been feeling for Glinda was broken, snapped into little pieces, too many to put back together like their friendship.

“. . . W-What? . . . . Elphie, w-what is he talking about?” Glinda spoke being the first to break the silence, her words broken and dry, “ . . . Elphie?” Speaking once again but more firm this time, turning to her friend.

"I-I" She tried to respond, to say something to her friend as she turned to her with puffy eyes, "I-I don't know" Elphaba was able to whisper even though her throat felt dry. She began waving her hands and repeating "no" under her breath at first before yelling it, wanting Fiyero to know this was not what she wanted. Before anyone could though, two loud claps echoed throughout the courtyard, grabbing everyone's attention.

It was Madam Morrible, walking into the crowd of students, "Enough! Get to your classes now!" She scolded before everyone swarmed away. As she was reprimanding Fiyero for causing such a scene, Elphaba and Glinda both kept put on the balcony for a few more seconds, processing what had just happened, before Glinda was the first to leave. She was beyond hurt, completely and utterly crushed, her thoughts spiraling and trying to piece together this situation to make sense of it. Never one did she think he felt this way, and especially not her best friend,

"Glinda . . . Glinda I c-can explain . . . " She stammered, hands shaky as she reached for her friend, tears now rolling down her eyes as well, "T-This was not supposed to happen, please you have to understand I-" her voice failing her as it cracked, giving Glinda all the answers she needed. She really cared for Elphaba, even looked to her as a sister, despite her shy expressions and awkwardness Glinda loved her, daydreamed about becoming the most powerful witches in all of oz until death. How could something so unthinkable break up a friendship so strong?

"JUST KNOW I WAS ALREADY THERE! . . "

[verdantcrimson]

Heaven and Earth / Creation of Heaven and Earth - 7

(Unproofread)

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[After school that same day, in the ES reception room.]

Keito: Now, I’ll summarize the issue at hand for Anzu, who probably doesn’t understand what is happening very well.

Keito: We, AKATSUKI, have been asked to host a long-running show ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’, that any history buff worth their salt knows about.

Kuro: By the way, little miss Anzu, have ya ever heard of ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’? Ya haven’t, right?

Keito: Quit trying to increase the number of your brethren in ignorance.

Souma: Fufu. You say you have yet to properly sit down and watch it, but you know of its name? Well, it does appear understandably difficult and complex to become invested in.

Souma: I too have beckoned for my younger brother to “come and watch” with me, but he does not spare a glance.

Kuro: Haha, wouldn’t it be more fun for a growin’ boy to move his body?

Keito: Back to what I was saying earlier. We’ve been entrusted with this major role, but a problem has cropped up.

Kuro: The issue is that I’m an idiot.

Keito: I’ve come up with a workaround for that bit, so it’s no longer an issue.

Souma: Hasumi-dono is far too strict in his refusal to retort with the simpler, “You aren’t an idiot,” phrase. ~♪

Keito: You’re being annoying. Also, Kiryu isn’t an idiot, generally speaking, he just can’t study. There’s a difference.

Keito: The problem I was referring to, of course, is the ‘Three Sages.’

Keito: These ‘Three Sages’ are authorities in the field for the countless historians that have supported ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ throughout the years. Without their cooperation, this show just wouldn’t work.

Souma: Umu. We are not academics, but ‘aidoru’, for which reason we so desperately require the assistance of such experts.

Keito: Exactly. However, for better or worse, these exalted scholars were quite unique—

Keito: They had their own set of conditions for us to follow. Though it seemed like they’d be cooperative if we fulfilled them,

Keito: All of these conditions are ill-matched, and in theory, it seems impossible to fulfill all of them.

Keito: Now, we need to figure out what to do. Do you understand now, Anzu?

Kuro: No really, what’re we supposed t’do…? Both Hideyoshi-sensei and Nobunaga-sensei said the same thing, come to think of it. Turns out ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ is a total landmine of a job after all.

Kuro: We’re just dumbasses that jumped for joy, and fell right into a trap.

Souma: Now Kiryu-dono, let us try and think of this the other way around. I believe that it may be precisely because we are without a proven record of accomplishments unlike the ‘beterans’ of our agency, that the responsibility of handling such a precarious case has been entrusted to us young people.

Keito: I agree with Kanzaki’s view on this.

Kuro: Why’re you two just freakishly in sync these days!? You ‘good at studyin’’ folks are conspirin’ together, aren’tcha? Little miss, you’re on my side though, right? Won’t ya come to the ‘can’t study for shit’ side…?

Keito: Don’t act like a baby to gain Anzu’s sympathy, Kiryu… But seriously, what side would you take, Anzu? I’ve always thought that you were sincere, and a hard worker, so your grades must be good, right?

Souma: Hmm. Anzu-dono is currently enrolled in the ‘purodyuusu’ course, so I cannot say for certain, however, the year prior, her grades were of a generally average nature. They were neither good nor bad.

Kuro: If ya studied super hard and still got an average grade, that must mean you must’ve been a pretty terrible student in the past.

Keito: Don’t try to recruit fellow bad students. Quit trying to run from reality, Kiryu. It’d be best if you tried to be reborn as a wiser version of yourself.

Kuro: Easy for you to say, but y’know… I can’t change that fast. I mean, I worked real hard to finally be reborn at the level I am right now.

Keito: Yes. I acknowledge your hard work.

Keito: Effort will never betray a person. People are only ever betrayed by people.

Souma: Those are meaningful words. Unfailingly, problems can be attributed to people.

Keito: That applies to our current predicament as well. What should we do, Anzu?

Keito: I would like to hear your opinion.

Kuro: Careful now, little miss. If ya answer with somethin’ strange, Hasumi’s gonna blow his lid.

Keito: Stop fooling around. If Anzu had been even a little less self-assertive of a person, she would’ve shriveled up by now.

Keito: —Hm, I see. Decide on what our priorities are, huh?

Keito: It’s better to be selective, and decide on what you want to accomplish, rather than try to accomplish everything and risk ending up with nothing.

Keito: That sounds fair. Nothing good comes from being greedy.

Keito: And naturally, what’s most important to us is the progress of AKATSUKI.

Kuro: As an idol, ya should’ve answered with somethin’ more like “the smiles of our fans.”

Keito: If we’re very successful and sparkle brightly, our fans will be pleased and smile anyways, right?

Keito: We would like to bolster our reputation by hosting ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth.’ However, in order for the show to be a success, we need the cooperation of the ‘Three Sages.’

Keito: However, in order to get them to cooperate with us, we have to meet their conditions—

Keito: …I’m just repeating myself. What I’m trying to say is that the order of priorities is (1) AKATSUKI’s progression, (2) Getting ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ approved, and (3) the feelings of the ‘Three Sages.

Keito: In the most extreme case, even if we are unable to achieve (2) or (3), accomplishing just (1) would be fine.

Keito: … Hm? What is it, Anzu?

Keito: If you have something to add, don’t be afraid to say it. That is why I called you here, after all.

Keito: I see… That sounds drastic, but I guess it’s technically possible.

Keito: It’s not like we’d be punished for trying. Oi Kiryu, Kanzaki—

Keito: Let’s prepare whatever documents and materials we’ll need by tomorrow.

Keito: As per Anzu’s suggestion, we’ll make a trial version of ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ on our own.

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[narrators-journal]

excuse me can i ask you a minato arisato x kotone shiomi? Probably Investigation Team Minato and SEES Kotone???

The roll continues with this goofy little ditty lol. The shipping is a little light here, but I tried to at least imply it with some fun extra content tossed on top. I mostly just thought it’d be fun to view the ship from the outside. Also, Yosuke’s just kinda fun to write as a doofus, ngl lmao. I hope you enjoy it regardless tho, this is a very fun lil idea, and very funny if you imagine Kotone’s more or less treating this like a puppy crush right now.

Also, while it’s not outright stated, I tried to at least imply that Kotone worked for Mitsuru after the dark hour shit. How? Not sure, but it’s fun to imagine.

“20 bucks says he has the hots for her.” Yosuke Hanamura said with a gesture towards the investigation team’s latest member, a dark-blue-haired senior transfer student who was only a week out from his dungeon’s defeat, and was currently a distance away from the group’s table to chat with a woman with wavy auburn hair that cascaded down to the small of her back with pins to adorn it.

Even at a glance, Chie could see why Minato might like the woman. She unmistakably wasn’t much older than nineteen, wore her professional button-up and black slacks well, and her hair shone like smooth garnet, or maybe ruby in the cloudless sun of the summer afternoon. She had a friendly face, one that you never saw without some form of smile. And, with the morbid and dark revelations that she had been shown in the blue-haired senior’s dungeon, she could see how someone as bright and friendly as the woman would draw him in.

That being said, she still huffed to her stablemate, “Why would I care enough to make that bet?” through a mouthful of food before she washed it down with her milkshake and added in a lighter tone, “Though, if he does, he’s making eyes at the wrong person. According to Yukiko, she’s here on a business trip, she’ll likely be gone within a week max.” “Damnnn, that’s gonna suck for him then.” Yosuke chuckled, a fry popped into his mouth as he continued to watch the beautiful woman giggle at something Minato had said. Which, in turn, made Chie giggle slightly. Though the brunette’s laughter was less about whatever the emo had said and more at the slightly salty expression that Yosuke got the longer he watched the pair talk. “How old even is she?” he huffed without a glance towards Chie. “How the hell should I know?” She huffed back, “Yukiko has to check IDs for the inn, right? Did she spot her age when she did?” Yosuke pressed his hazel eyes finally torn away from Minato’s distant conversation to look at the fellow brunette expectantly, which made her roll her eyes. “Yosuke, that’s creepy as hell. Even if I did know her age, I’m not telling you.”

That, naturally, earned the athlete a dark look, but all he did was turn his gaze back to watch Minato continue to chat up the dark-haired woman. And, for a few heartbeats, Chie joined him. At least, until Yosuke spoke once more, “Surely she’s more than 18, right? Since she has a job?” “She’s sure as hell not a high school student, that’s for sure.” “So, she’s too old for him as well. So, is she just humoring him?” Yosuke asked, a little more than to himself than Chie. Though, that didn’t stop her from retorting, “Yosuke, Minato’s eighteen, and she’s no older than a max of twenty. How is that too old for him?-” “Sh! He’s coming back!”

In a flash, Yosuke swapped from observation to pretending he hadn’t been a speculating gossip only a heartbeat before the emo ended his chat with a wave from the woman and a small smile on his pale face. Which, made Chie shake her head before she simply took another bite of food and greeted Minato upon his return to his seat at their table. Yosuke’s only comment a light hum of, “Heya dude, you know that girl?” Which only got a bit of a shrug from the newest member of their crew. “Not really, just trying to make new friends.” He said casually, his dark hair tossed lightly out of his face so he could sip at his soda and pick at his loaded fries. And, that was where the conversation logically should have ended. With the context that his dungeon gave them, Chie could completely accept his answer as a whole explanation for how eager he’d been to talk to the auburn-haired woman. Enough said in her book. But, Yosuke obviously didn’t want to drop the topic yet. “Just friends? Really? Because, you sure were excited to go chat with her, and if I recall right, you were a stutter-y mess when you first met her too.” He pressed. His attempt at a casual tone was a poor cover for the teasing edge of his words. Which, in turn, made the dark-haired man turn the slightest shade of pink while he stared down at his fries for a long moment. Then, he simply asked, “So what if I do want to date her? She’s only a year older than me, single, and cute.” And, clearly, Yosuke hadn’t been expecting that as a response.

So, while Chie tried not to giggle into her chocolate milkshake, Yosuke could only manage a sputter and waved the conversation off with a dismissive trio of fries shoved into his mouth. So, at long last, the topic was dropped and Minato was free to simply enjoy his lunch in the shade of their table’s umbrella in relative peace.

[themisinformer]

Dick Teacher Actually Makes Students Do Work

NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT - Students at Wilbur Cross High School were in for a shock this week after realizing that they’re new teacher, Meredith Jaynes, actually expected them to do work in class. The students, who were expecting a free period to use their phones and talk with friends, had to quickly change focus when their new Math teacher assigned them with not one, but two assignments on the first day back from winter break.

“I thought it was a joke at first,” said student Kaylee Johnson. “Like, who even brings a syllabus anymore? But no, Ms. Jaynes was dead serious. She called it… wait for it… ‘homework.’”

Jaynes, who previously taught at a private school “where students actually tried,” according to her LinkedIn page, reportedly expects her public school students to read an entire chapter of the Math textbook each week. “And that’s not even the worst part,” said fellow student Dylan Ramirez. “She also grades assignments on actual effort. Like dude, we’re just supposed to copy and paste from ChatGPT and call it a day.”

Jaynes has since been referred to as the “Dick Teacher” by students, a term that allegedly originated during the first week of classes when Jaynes instructed students to put their phones away, saying, “If you can text on your phone, then you can take notes.” The nickname has since become a rallying cry for students uniting against what they call “literal tyranny.”

“I signed up for this class because I thought it’d be easy,” said senior Jake Harmon. “Now she’s already talking about group projects and something she calls a ‘research paper.’ What even is this, college?”

Sources say that the final straw for students came when Ms. Jaynes surprised students with a pop quiz. “Who even does this in 2025?” Asked one student, with tears of frustration welling up in their eyes. “This bitch doesn’t want us to live our best lives. She’s literally a dream killer. Like, get off our dicks!”

In response, students have started a Change.org petition titled “Free Us from the Dick Teacher,” which has already garnered 3,000 signatures, including from several parents who admit that they don’t want to help their kids with any extra note.

Jaynes, however, seems completely unharmed by her student’s plot to undermine her authority. “These students need to learn to take responsibility for their own education,” Jaynes told The Misinformer. “I’m not here to be their friend, I’m here to prepare them for the real world.”

[noodleblade]

I know you said that the one night stand was the starting point you kept landing in when it comes to KOBD, but is that the case in “Congratulations”? Or do they have another story there 👀

Hmmmmmmm. I think for that one it’d be different origin, since it was more of a friends to lovers situation in that fic;) (link here if you havent read it:3)

I think I probably come up with a different origin for any fics of them getting together in the fic. Any of them established, well, it probably defaults to the one-night stand.

BUT!!! I uhhh wrote a little origins of how it could happen for "Congratulations", It also this got stupid long so under the cut it goes.

I imagine them meeting somewhere casual, like a bar. Breakdown goes with his crew after work to have a drink and blow off some steam.

Its out of the way, hiding in the lower streets of Delta and opens its doors to all, even if mostly bigger, bulky mechs are the ones coming through. Occasionally you get the random speedster that finds their way in to try something new, occasionally there are med students that looking to get as drunk as they can at the lowest cost possible. Knock Out happens to be both in this case.

Knock Out goes with his fellow peers from university but has little interest in anything they say. Not as soon as his optics land on Breakdown and his inebriated processor can think of nothing else but him. Naturally, he approaches.

It doesn't go as Knock Out pictured. The big mech doesn't swoon over him, doesn't pick him up and carry him out of the bar, doesn't even get flustered when Knock Out purrs into his audials about the night they could have.

Instead, the mech, Breakdown, give him a friendly smile and invites him sit with his group, orders him a cube of energon to settle his overcharged systems, and politely tells him no. Knock Out, drunk and with little shame, pouts but takes what he can get which is all of Breakdown's attention and a nice warm arm draped over his shoulders.

They exchange numbers. Knock Out sends a few inappropriate messages that night until he passes out. And then a very embarrassing apology late the next morning once the helm-ache subsides and the events of the night hit him. Breakdown responds after work with easy forgiveness and they just...keep chatting. Just as friends.

Over the course of weeks, they chat about random shit and meet up for drinks. At some point, Knock Out says he is going to join one of the minor league races and tells Breakdown he has to come. The timing doesn't work out, unfortunately, but Breakdown races home after work to watch the recording.

Soon enough, a pattern arises. Knock Out enters more races and Breakdown does what he can to watch them. Occasionally, opportunities arise where he can...actually be there. In person. But he never goes. The very idea of sitting in the cramped stands, far, far away from the actual track makes him anxious. The idea of everything wrong that can happen and ruin things for Knock Out keep him conveniently too busy to be able to see the races in person.

It's okay though! Knock Out doesn't seem to mind. Then again, Breakdown doesn't really know about the tickets Knock Out reserves for him at the booth, or how mid-race he throws a glance up to find them devastatingly empty. But that's fine. That's okay. Knock Out gets it. He can brush away his own disappointment. Besides, the few times Breakdown invites him over to watch the recording of his race together more than makes up for it.

Even if it is just as friends. Even if that's all Breakdown will ever allow them to be.

[myers-meadow]

Hogwarts uni AU: Draught of Peace

Chapter 2: Draught of Peace. Chapter 1 here.

Pairing: Severus Snape x oc Minoes.

Summary: University life continues. A mishap on Jasmine's part messes up what should have been a wonderful Potion's class, and Minoes' has trouble with a persistant migraine. Jasmine belongs to @devil-doll13, Scarlet belongs to @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 4255

Dividers by delishlydelightfuldividers.

Tuesday.

I could just feel the time of my menstruation approaching. The morning started a little earlier, with how early I was to bed the night before, and I took my time getting ready. Layers of myself; spider necklace, strings and strings of beads, clinking together faithfully, the same braid I slept in pinned up again. I cast a similar spell as the one I used last night, to make little stars glimmer in my hair. They won’t last all day, but that’s alright. The headscarf of choice today is the deep blue one with the forget-me-nots.

At the breakfast table, I sank down next to Scarlet, who sat by herself, reading a book. I pulled down the scarf as I reached the table – it’s something for in the hallways and outside, but not during lectures or meals.

“Good morning,” I greet as I sit down. They closed their book, checking the page number to remember later. Must’ve ran out of bookmarks.

“Morning. You greet me as if we haven’t seen each other as soon as we woke up,” she said.

“Hmm, I thought it’d be impolite not to say anything. How did you sleep?”

“Decent,” was all they said and I helped myself to one of the cereals on the table.

“You know,” I started absentmindedly, “it’s all fun with the house colours and the robes and all, but I can’t help but think we got unlucky.”

Scarlet hummed noncommittally.

“Green doesn’t look good on me. It clashes with almost every other colour besides the usual colours that match with everything. Don’t get me wrong, I also wear black all the time, but look how pretty this scarf is.”

“Forget-me-nots,” they affirmed, with a short nod.

“Yeah. And it’s blue. With this green? I hate it.”

“Then don’t wear it. I like green.”

“That’d feel like losing. It’s windy, I need the scarf for when I go to Herbology, ” I grumbled, then I realised I’d have to eat quick to get some food in me before breakfast is over. “I have Art now, gotta run, see you, Scarlet!”

Wizardly Art, taught by the wonderful teacher, Professor De Smet, all the way from Belgium, who greeted us with a large projection of Witches on the Sabbath (1878) by Spanish painter Luis Ricardo Falero.

“Who of you knows this painting?”

Like the overeager art school ho, I raised my hand instantly. He pointed at me to let me know to go ahead. “Witches during the Sabbath.”

“Very good,” and he clicked to the next slide, showing my minute mistake in title, and more information about the artwork. “Falero is one of those painters famed in the muggle world for his female nudes, but who has made a very different art that he kept for fellow wizards only. Now some of his works are in private galleries of some large pureblood families, or in the homes of descendants of his family.”

Dipping my quill in the ink, I took notes eagerly. The slides switched to one of his magical artworks; a beautiful female nude, with her holding a wand, posing coquettishly. Professor De Smet continued.

“Originally taught in Paris, student of the similarly well-known painter Gabriel Ferrier, he devoted himself to the arts after failed experiments in the sciences. Yes, this man was one of those who seemed to want to do it all. Now, you may be wondering; how did he get away with his portrayal of witches in the manner he did?”

Art flew by and I hurried to the greenhouses for Herbology after. Neville greeted me, and I sat down next to him. The last seat. He must’ve saved it for me. I smiled gratefully at him.

“Nice of you to join us, as well,” said Professor Sprout about my tardiness. Untying my scarf and getting my quill out, I tried looking in Neville’s book to see the subject of the day.

“Sopophorous plant,” whispered Neville, leaning in so closely that we bumped heads as I righted myself with book in hand. “Damn, ouch!” he hissed quietly, rubbing his forehead.

Sprout sent us a stern look, hands on her hips.

“Ahem. If the two lovebirds back there could pay attention, that’d be great,” she said, lips pursed. I elbowed Neville to pay attention and he did, sheepishly. Gods, let this be a good year and not let me fail Herbology.

I met up with Scarlet during lunch.

“I saw on the notice board that duelling is tonight, are you joining again this year?”

Scarlets face brightened up by the mention of her favourite after class activity. “I am.”

We both stared out at the lunch table. Eventually I plucked a hot cross bun from one of the plates.

“You miss the food back home?” I asked. They helped themselves to something, and poured a glass of pumpkin juice.

“You know it,” she chuckled. “Dinners are really good though, just not the bread.”

“I may ask my parents to send some,” I said, thinking aloud. “They probably have enough going on, though.”

“Hey Minoes, hey Scarlet,” said a familiar voice. Anatoli, who climbed over the bench to sit next to me. I scooted over to make room, smiling at him.

“Hey! I missed you during Art just now. I though you were also taking it this year?”

“I am – just had a thing with the…” he pointed over his shoulder, letting his voice trail off, and shrugged. “We have Ethics after this, though.”

“Can’t wait,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm. Then I checked with Scarlet, who hadn’t said a word. A little suspicious of a new face perhaps. She didn’t know which of the Slytherins was nice and which would call her a slur to her face, after all. “Scarlet, this is Anatoli, my dear friend from Ethics.”

They exchanged polite greetings, but it felt like it was little use. At least I tried. Anatoli seemed eager to talk with just me, so I left it.

“What did I miss in Art?”

After the most boring Ethics class, it was finally time to retire. I was tired from having people around me, and left my headscarf on during dinner to relieve at least some of the noise of the Great Hall. After eating, the library was my sanctuary. Thankfully that one alcove I inhabited during the previous year was empty and I settled down to get a good start at the various assignments for the different classes. Something about uses of lavender for Potions, the ethics of Plato and how to apply them to the use of love and hate potions for Ethics, a study of one artwork of own choosing by Falero for Art, and for Herbology… well. A disaster. I’ll have to find Neville tomorrow.

As I penned down the different uses of lavender, making sure to include information on how the methods to prepare them effect their workings, my mind kept wandering off to the Potion’s class. Just the smell of the classroom was enough to make me yearn for the Professor. My father was proud when he heard about my good grades in Potions, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was because Professor Snape is just a really good teacher. He has this way of explaining things during lectures that just make them stick in my brain. And unlike the other teachers, who waved me off when I came to them with difficult questions, sighing and rolling their eyes, he actually took me seriously. Not only that; he only gave cryptic answers, which forced me to find the solution on my own – which is incredible. To him it all seems to come so naturally…

Images of him crushing up hellebore petals, beautiful bony hands measuring the ingredients, testing the temperature with a wet finger to the side of the cauldron, his at ease expression as he stirred – then looked up and met my eyes… A single moment last year that still was impossible to forget.

I slammed my book closed. Nevermind. Better continue tomorrow, if all my brain wants to do is daydream.

Retreated back to the Slytherin common room after the library closed for the night. My second night at Hogwarts and I was already going back so late… The lack of students in the halls brought me peace. The tall windows of the common room, looking out over the dark lake calmed me. It’s so dark and serene out there. Barely anyone was left, just some smaller groups of students, quietly chatting or reading amongst themselves. I stood so close to the window that I could feel the cold seep through the glass and stared at the underwater vegetation swaying gently in the stream.

Wednesday.

Terrible headache. The blood started, too. A rainy day; black wool headscarf with roses and the nice fringe. Changed the spider necklace for the sun and moon one, then layered on the strings of beads, the lipstick, enchanted Saturn earrings, the rest of me. Black blouse, velvet skirt. During breakfast, I finished writing a letter to a friend back home.

I was glad to spot Jasmine during Charms, sitting somewhere near the front of the class. Scarlet had found her before I did, and sat on her other side. Both greeted me.

“I dearly hope the assignment was for next week,” I mumbled, as I sit down next to her.

“Yeah, it is,” she nodded, kindly smiling.

“How is Peaches settling in?”

She perked up at mention of her dear cat. “Quite well! She misses me now that I leave her alone for most of the day, but she adjusts quite well.”

Class came to an end, and I finished by writing a reminder to do the assignment before Monday.

“Where do you usually study?” I asked Jasmine as she pushed her book into her bag, the quill in a separate compartment.

“Common room or library. There are some spots that are quite nice in there. How about you two?”

“Library, but in the dorms as well. I like the view of the lake,” said Scarlet. “The couches are more comfortable than the wooden chairs in the library.”

“There’s this little alcove that I like in the library, but there’s plenty spots quiet enough for me. Maybe we could meet up and study together sometime,” I proposed. Both of them nodded.

“Could be fun. Always good to feel less alone.”

“Bring Peaches,” I grinned, and our paths parted.

After classes, I worked on assignments, and after finishing some on time, I made my way up to the Astronomy tower to see Hannah Theresa. Giving her treats and pets, she was happy to see me. Finally, after a nice time enjoying the view, I gave her the letter I wrote during breakfast and watched her fly off. Magnificent creature.

Thursday.

Terrible migraine persisted. Ran out of potions for it. Made a mental note to stop by the Potion’s classroom or Professor Snape’s office to ask if I could make myself some. Put on the layers of me like zipping up a difficult theatre costume. Realised that it would soon be done with the summer weather, so I choose a my nice, yet not so warm, sheer spiderweb lace shirt instead of a blouse. Back to the spider necklace, to fit with the theme. Perhaps I should tinker around and find a spell to get artificial spiderwebs in my hair. It’d be cute.

“Good morning, Scarlet,” I greeted, seeing we were both awake at the same time.

“Morning,” they said, rubbing their eyes before lowering their glasses.

What classes are on today? Alchemy, Potions and Ethics. The black wool scarf from yesterday was too precious to get messed up with alchemy and potion fumes, so I choose the another black one, a nice cotton blend with soft coloured hydrangea. Hair pinned up so nothing could fall into a cauldron by accident. The ritual of it calmed me down. I was buzzing with excitement to see Professor Snape again.

Alchemy was everything but a breeze, but nothing could beat my good mood. Even Scarlet noticed it, as we walked to the dungeons.

“You’re so cheerful today,” they remarked. “Is it because of the particular class we’re heading to now?”

“Hmm, maybe. Did wake up with a terrible headache, though.”

“You should see Madam Pomfrey. She’s a great help.”

“I’ll think on it. My dad helped me a lot over the summer and we finally made a recipe that actually helps with the specific type of migraine I get.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to spend more time hanging around Snape.”

Ah. Ouch. “That’s really mean and not true, actually,” I said, keeping my tone flat. We reached the classroom and were joined by our favourite Ravenclaw friend. “Hey Jasmine.”

“Time for Potions again,” she said, looking dejected.

“It’s not too bad. We’ll help you, if you want? Let’s meet up in the library when we can and we will help,” I said.

We entered. Draco jeered at Scarlet, but the Professor’s entrance ended that quickly, thank goodness.

“Today we will be brewing the Draught of Peace,” he started, “a potion meant to calm the mind and relieve anxieties.”

My heart surged at the sound of his voice. I was glad there was this large, safe  distance between us. Glad to know I could admire him from afar, to feel inspired by his mastery of the art of Potions, to push myself to greater things hoping for only the smallest bit of praise… Oh right, we need ingredients.

As we started with preparing what we needed, Scarlet leant to me.

“What is Malfoy’s problem today?” they hissed.

“Maybe a fly died in his pumpkin juice this morning.”

Starting the potion, I used the bottom of the mortar to do the heavy lifting of crushing the ingredients, trying my best not to make a lot of noise as I slammed it down to break the unicorn horn and the moonstones.

“Miss Vleerebosch, is that how we crush porcupine quills now?” His voice so close to my ear made me jolt. I looked back to see him examining my work station with one eyebrow raised. Displeasure was written all over his face and I sighed.

“It’s quicker, Professor.”

But he already moved on to Jasmine’s cauldron. I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing the headache away.

“And what have we here? Tell me, Miss Daly,” his voice was different now, more than just displeased. “Precisely where in your textbook does it specify that your potion should look like an oil spill?”

Ouch. I glanced at Jasmine to check if she was okay, but my cauldron bubbled dangerously, so I quickly moved to lower the head and add the two drops of hellebore syrup. All the while, Professor Snape continued lecturing poor Jasmine. She already had it tough in Potions…

A bang made me look up, only to see that Snape’s robe caught fire, and a stunned Jasmine standing there, wand in hand.

“What,” he spat through gritted teeth. He looked mortified. “Exactly did you just do!?” 

Jasmine fumbled over her words, eventually settling on: ““Well I just- Sir, you’re, um, very flammable, and…”

Flammable? What a mess. Having caught the attention of the entire classroom, the Gryffindor didn’t hide their joy at seeing the hated professor on fire. Shocked as I was, the absurdity of it all made me laugh awkwardly. The Slytherins weren’t any better, snickering quietly, forgetting all about their potions.

Another loud clatter, and Finnigan’s cauldron fell of the table, spilling its boiling contents all over the floor.

Still on fire, Professor Snape seethed with rage, not doing anything to extinguish himself. Merlin, what do I do?

Deciding to risk it, I cast a spell to summon water, pointing it at him. It worked, and the flames went out. I breathed. The smell of smoke lingered.

“Mr Finnigan!” Snape snapped, whirling around to face Seamus. His clothes were so badly damaged they fell to the floor. “That’s twenty points from Gryffindor, and a failing grade!” 

Finnigan’s laughter died down quickly, as did the rest of the class. The spell was broken. Laughter made way for apprehension and fear.

Seeing the hot orange liquid bubbling dangerously on the floor, another disaster waiting to happen, I said, frowning: “Clean that up, Finnigan. Before it ignites!” 

“Oh, right!” 

Seamus scrambled to clean it up himself, but Scarlet was quicker and did it for him: “Scourgify!” 

I shook my head, and took over Jasmine’s potion as that didn’t look too good either. Professor Snape’s fury had her shaking in her boots. What a mess.

Needless to say, class ended quickly and terribly.

After lunch, I studied a bit in the library, before Ethics started. The cramps were setting in fully now, and conjuring up a hot water bottle just didn’t cut it. Not to speak of the migraines. It was scary to think of the mood Snape would be in, but perhaps I really should stop by the dungeons. Before I ruin my grades this early because I can’t focus past the pain.

Ethics was suffering, but I tried my best to make the most of it with Dana and Anatoli. I hoped they couldn’t tell that I wasn’t in it. The first of the gossip about what happened during Potions already circulated in the classroom and the hallways. Setting fire to a teacher would have the school lively with whispers, let alone that teacher being Professor Snape. I felt bad for him. After class, we chatted while walking back to the common room.

“I heard your crush on Snape has ended,” said Dana, stretching after the lecture was over. I dropped my book and quill in my bag, hoping the notes I took were good enough to revise later.

“Who told you that?”

“Is it true?” Anatoli perked up.

Dana nodded eagerly and got up to walk out of the classroom. “She had a summer fling!”

I rolled my eyes. Better play along. We entered the hallway. “Let’s discuss this in the dorms at least,” I proposed. They agreed. Once we were in the common room, the subject immediately shifted back to me, unfortunately.

“So tell us about your summer lover,” pushed Anatoli.

“Alright, alright,” I held up my hands in mock surrender. “He studied philosophy with me when I went to muggle university, he only listens to Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan and he played guitar for me, and we went star gazing a lot. That enough?”

“Who are they?” asked Dana, and I remembered she wouldn’t be familiar with muggle artists. We found our familiar seats on the couches by one of the fireplaces.

“Muggle musicians,��� and I quickly made some comparisons to some artists that she would know. “Essentially a romantic soul.”

Dana looked at me, her expression serious. “You dated a muggle?”

“Hm?” I frowned. “Sure did. Liked him a whole lot, too.”

“I knew you studied at a muggle university before this, but…” her voice trailed off, eyes shifting everywhere but to me. I looked at her sharply, glad she didn’t look at me or I’d frighten her. Anatoli laid a warm hand on my knee for a brief second.

“What do you mean?” I encouraged her, voice betraying nothing but curiosity.

“Didn’t think you’d enjoy being with one. Since, you know. You’re a witch. It’s not… It must be hard.” She changed her posture, growing uncomfortable.

“It was pretty fun, actually,” I chuckled. “We still write letters sometimes.”

Then she looked at me, sudden and unexpected. “I just wouldn’t want you to settle for someone like him, when there’s so many good wizards out there to choose from.”

What a diplomatic answer. Very telling, but diplomatic.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” I said, and decided to end it with a joke: “Love hardly feels like choice, or I’d never have liked Professor Snape.”

That lightened the mood, and both of them laughed softly.

“Well, good wizard or not, I hardly think he’s a suitable lover for anyone,” Anatoli chuckled.

“Every pot has a lid!” I said cheerfully. “But I have to go, I should borrow a book for Herbology before I forget about it again. Bye, see you at dinner!”

With that disaster averted, and making a quick note in my dairy to not trust Dana too much, I gathered all the courage I could find until I stood in front of the Potion’s classroom. After knocking and hearing a gruff ‘come in’, I entered. Professor Snape stood by the shelves that lined the walls, tinkering with bottles of ingredients.

“Good afternoon, Professor,” I greeted, and closed the door behind me. “Are you… alright? That was quite the situation earlier.”

There were no traces of what happened anywhere. Good. The look Professor Snape gave me as I came closer was the most hateful look I’ve ever seen him wear. It shocked me, felt like my heart froze over.

“What do you hope to accomplish by asking that?” He looked like a wounded animal.

“I worry,” was all I could think to say. “Is it forbidden to care?”

“I don’t need your pity!” He moved towards me, towering and casting frightful shadows across the walls. When he reached me, my eyes widened in shock, he gripped me by the shoulders and pushed me to the door.

“Professor-“

“Get out! Get out!”

The door slammed in my face. Fuck. What now? Jesus Christ. Another sharp stab of pain pounded through my temples. Ok. Fuck it. I knocked rapidly on the door.

“Get away!”

I kept knocking urgently. “I came to brew a potion! Let me at least use the supplies!”

No answer. My knuckles hurt by now, but nothing beats the migraine. Then the door swung open, so unexpectedly that I almost lost my balance. He jerked me inside by a sharp grip on my arm. The door locked behind me.

“At least do it in silence,” he hissed, his eyes shooting fire. I nodded, keeping quiet, but my frustration grew.

After gathering ingredients, I sat in my usual seat and prepared to start brewing.

“What potion,” Snape’s cutting voice shook me from my thoughts and I looked up over the cutting board, “is important enough to disturb me for?”

It wasn’t a genuine question. It was him seeking to intimidate me.

With similar venom, I replied: “Perhaps you can recognise it from the ingredients and seeing the preparation? Surely a great teacher such as yourself would be able to.” While I knew full well this was a potion my dad and I invented.

The knife came down on the chopping board a little too harshly. The spikes of pain made me want to retaliate anything thrown at me, and somewhere deep down I knew that’s what Snape felt as well. Yet I couldn’t find it in me to let myself be treated like an emotional punching bag today. So I brewed in silence, ignoring the prickling feeling of his eyes on me.

The tinkering of glass against glass as he arranged his ingredients soon put me more at ease. Brewing was always calming for me, and I breathed in deep once I put in the crushed lavender buds. Good. It’s coming along. Every once in awhile I’d sense he was looking at me, and I’d stare right back. It seemed he was truly trying to see what potion I was making.

A long hour and a half later, the potion was done, and I ladled it carefully into vials. I felt better just by knowing that now I’d have enough to last me a week. After barely waiting for it to cool down, I moved to drink one now, but Snape cut in. He stood in front of me suddenly, peering down at me past his nose.

“That’s not a potion I’m familiar with. If you see it fit to poison yourself, go ahead.”

“It’s a recipe of my own,” I replied, “for the migraines I get.” And I drank the vial to the last drop. He raised an eyebrow.

“Leech juice, lavender buds, salamander blood, poppy head, unicorn horn, honeywater, billywig sting slime, moondew drops, chizpurfle fangs, dried nettle, dittany, thaumatagoria; that’s quite a rare ingredient for an at home remedy,” he sounded critical. “I assume that’s your take on a Wiggenweld Potion.”

Under his scrutinising stare, I hastily sat up and threw the peels in the bin.

“It started out as such, but I kept changing ingredients around until it worked for me. My dad helped, of course,” I said, cleaning the rest of the workspace as quickly as I could.

Professor Snape remained quiet.

“You’re welcome to try some, if you ever get a migraine,” I joked.

“If it’s done, you can get out.” But his voice was softer. We stared at each other for a long moment. Slowly, my headache faded. Still, neither of us moved a muscle. His eyes darted over my face, seeking something, and he seemed calmed, much calmer than he was when I came in. His handsome face, regal and gaunt at the same time, was enough to take my breath away. His dark eyes were hypnotising, every time I tried looking away, I was sucked right back in. His lips parted slightly, as though there was something to say, but it never came. Then, a knock sounded on the door, and the spell was broken. Quickly, I gathered my vials and ran off.

[anthrofreshtodeath]

If you feel like writing two separate prompts or combining them. Thanks!

15 please come home and

28 accidental touches

Let's do 15! It's kind of long. I honestly have no idea what this is - but reserve the right to flesh it out into a full, sprawling story if I want to? Agh, anyway. Here we go! Thank you all for sticking with me as I put these out at a glacial pace.

___

Jane pats her pockets a couple of times before she locks her door. Front, back, breast. Her wallet’s there, her phone’s close to her chest, and she’s got her keys in her hand. Her badge rests deep in the inside of her black leather jacket, invisible but available. 

“Shit,” she curses, because her guide ID rests somewhere inside the apartment, probably on the counter. She’ll need that for work. She jiggles her key in the lock until the door opens, metal and heavy and groaning when she pushes against it. This place is old in the lead-pipes-from-the-sixties way, not the late-eighteen-hundreds way her condo in Boston had been. Sometimes, she thinks about her old place with regret, how she should have kept it instead of selling it in her hurricane hurry to get out of the city. For all the ancient shit she encounters every day on her current assignment, life feels stuck in a flip phone, video rental kind of vibe that she thought she’d left in the academy. In Boston, life had, for all its modern courtrooms and BRIC software and smartphone ubiquitousness, moved at a historical pace. 

Maybe it was the family.

Jane had roots in Boston since the early twentieth century; Rizzolis hadn’t been here in Napoli since 1910. There’s nothing that the modernity here offers her in terms of mirrors - she cannot yet see herself, even though everyone around her looks like they could be a long lost cousin. And perhaps they are, but she knows no one. 

Except her coworkers, perhaps, at both of her jobs. Her narc one and her cover one. 

With a whoosh she’s back in, and she walks past the cluttered kitchen - no ID on the counter - to the small dining room table. Francesca Ricci, guida turistica di Pompeii, it reads. She hangs it around her neck and zips her jacket up over it. The gray sky hangs heavy over Naples’ city center, and so she’ll need to keep it dry. She also foregoes her motorcycle helmet next to her ID - she’ll ride the metro into work today because she doesn’t want to get pelted by rain on her bike if she takes the autostrada. 

So, with her backpack still on her shoulder, she exits a second time, and trots down the stairs to the street. She weaves through her fellow commuters on their own way, and she thinks about popping into the bar just a few storefronts from the station to get a coffee. But then, she’ll have to sit, have to look at the paper just to feel right, and she doesn’t really have the time. Instead, she motors on her long legs to Piazza Garibaldi station and swipes her pass to get on the train. 

She sees some familiar faces, a man who always puts his headphones away before getting off one stop from now, a couple of students who always talk about the same professor in a rich blend of new Neapolitan, Italian, and thirst. 

The closest open seat happens to be right behind those two students, who smile cordially when Jane passes to park herself in the next row’s aisle seat. She slumps, and drops her backpack between her flat-heeled boots, stopping to stare down at them to give her mind some rest. She lets it wander: the stickysweetness of their infatuation settles in her chest, webbing between her lungs, not quite reaching her heart where it’d cause an overdose. Here, four thousand miles away from home, she remembers the fullness of love without the sting of it. 

Luckily, she never has to listen for long, even though she yearns for simpler times when she does - in the best of ways. In that way that makes a heart feel light and easy, like things could go back to that simplicity. In a few minutes, the train signals its stop at Pompeii Scavi, her stop.

She picks up her bag and off she goes, past the exit and into the ticket sales area for the heritage site itself. “Ciao, Roberta,” she says when she waves to the elderly woman manning the closest ticket window. She doesn’t stop, but she smirks and scrunches two fingers in a wave when Roberta calls out a huffy greeting after her, saying something about always in a damn hurry. 

Roberta reminds Jane of her grandmother because they both speak the same kind of stuck-in-time Neapolitan when Jane’s around. Even though Roberta knows Jane only as Francesca, a name chosen for her brother. Jane goes right up to Porta Marina and pulls her sign from her backpack, because her first group is in five minutes and she is, above all things, prompt. 

She is also undercover, so she likes to arrive before them, watch them come in and cluster. She’s been installed because she can be inconspicuous - she ushers rich, whiny merigan’ (her grandmother’s word) through one of the richest historical sites in the world, all while keeping an eye on the Camorra men who’ve been muscled in as guards so that their bosses can keep the drug trade strong and gobble up the restoration contracts that Pompeii requires. And she looks like every other Italian doing it, except the polizia di stato like that she speaks native English and knows the grounds like the back of her hand.

That had only taken copious amounts of adderall and a few sleepless weeks to learn.

Her Italian is pretty good, too. The Neapolitan’s coming back from her childhood, and the adderall also helped the acquisition of standard Italian. She really had jumped in feet first, intent on making a life in a place her family had made life for centuries before they decided America was the best place to be. Sometimes, when she’s wandering across Pompeii’s main drag, or whispering in la Villa dei Misteri, she wonders what they’d think of her: giving it all up, running back to what they left behind so that she can nurse her ailing heart. So that she can hide.

The first of her group of ten point to her sign, however, breaking her out of her reverie, so she waves them in. “Hey hey! You guys with All Star tours?” she asks, though she knows they are. They nod, and she puts her sunglasses on. It's overcast, rainy Italy and all that, but she can’t really do a tour without them. She knows the guys she’s tailing have no idea who she is - that’s the beauty of being a foreigner - but she still refuses to show them the whites of her eyes. A habit from her DCU detective days. “Perfect. Let’s all uh, gather over here, and we’ll wait for the rest of you before going in. So - tell me: where is everyone from?”

___

Maura has paid for the private tour, because she knows the professor arranging it and, well, she has the money. It’s been literal decades since she’s been in Pompeii, the last time for her sixteenth birthday - one last hurrah before her last year of boarding school, before she headed to BCU for undergrad. She hadn’t been very sober during that visit, and of course she regrets it, not only for the lack of memories but for the shame that she’d let girls she barely knew and didn’t like pressure her into it. 

She doesn’t feel much better this morning, just a couple months away from birthday thirty-six and jet-lagged into melancholy.

Well, perhaps that is a non-truth. Not a lie, per se, but the melancholy was firmly in place when she boarded an overnight flight at Logan, one that spit her out in Naples. A car service, courtesy of her mother - quite European in her no-questions-asked approach to the situation - delivered her here, to Porta Marina. To Charles, Professor Cavalieri’s French grad student, whose eyes sparkle when they see her. She looks put together, of course, as she always does, even though she feels a little underdressed. Jeans, riding boots, a light sweater and a scarf over its neckline. April south of Rome can still be a little chilly, so she’s guarded against the weather, but not against the feeling that everyone around her disparages her for not wearing head to toe designer. Charles only notices the slope of her curves in those jeans, the elegance of her features. 

He stammers. “Uh, uh, D-doctor Isles, yes?” he manages when she approaches. She moves right past the rest of the tourists, in a line that will probably take an hour to get through, and smiles at him. 

“Yes, and you must be Charles. The professor has told me so much about you,” she says, and they kiss twice on each cheek, clasping one another’s biceps loosely. “About your expertise regarding the ruins here.”

“He has told me about you, too,” Charles says. When he pulls away, he’s collected himself, returning some sharpness to his eyes. His French accent is actually very slight. “He was shocked that you are here. He had heard that Doctor Faulkner was in the States, with intentions of finding you.”

Cavalieri knows Maura through Ian, who knew him through his undergraduate work in Switzerland. Maura did not know, until this conversation, that they still talk. She goes pale, she can see it in her hands when she brings them up to cross her arms. Funnily enough, they haven’t spoken as of three weeks ago. Or, if they had, Ian hadn’t disclosed… well. “He was. He isn’t any longer. And neither am I,” she recovers. They both chuckle. One drop falls from the Southern Italian sky onto her nose. “Are we ready to begin?”

“Of course,” Charles says. “Let’s make our way to the forum.”

“That sounds perfect. And Charles? There may be a time or two that I wander off on my own. Don’t worry about me. I’ll find you. Or…” she pauses to pull her phone from her bag, “I will text you.”

__

“And if you see those indentations in the stone, that’s where the wooden planks would have gone, and this,” Jane toes the grass and weed-covered stone underneath her and her long arms reach up close to those indentations, “bottom area is where those gladiators we talked about would have… shit. Slept. Would have slept. Above is where the… uh, give me a minute, would you? Come, come here. Come inside. You all can touch.”

Maura Isles, spector behind this entire enterprise, is standing in the ancient street, heels over the rivets made by ancient carts pulled by horses, that had delivered life itself to the city. By the thunder of Jane’s heart, rattling in her chest, the carts still run. The Camorra man Jane’d been watching for the entire tour, spending more time on his phone than guarding the ruins, has slipped away, and she cannot bring herself to care.

Maura is here. 

“Hey!” She shouts, in case the mirage, the ghost, shimmers away into the late-spring fog. “Maura!”

But, Maura doesn’t move. Maura stays put, and Maura smiles. “Hi,” she says softly, an awful lot like a real person. A real, American, Bostonian, medical examiner person. Jane shakes her head. “My god, you look…”

Jane narrows her very sleep-deprived eyes. She runs a hand through barely brushed black hair. “Like shit?” she snarks.

“I was going to say tired,” Maura replies quietly. Her hands clasp in front of her hips, and she laces her fingers together to give them something to do. “You look so tired. And like you’re not eating. Are you eating?”

Jane scoffs. “That isn’t any of your business. I’m working. You know what? I’m working. Which, by the way… how did you find me? How on Earth did you know I was here?”

“I… he’s gone,” Maura says. Jane leans against one of the old stone walls around them and crosses her arms in defense. She is long and she is gaunt. She is haggard and very angry. “He left almost a month ago. I’ve been trying to find you since then.”

“That’s…” Jane summons all the venom, all the ire she can. She grits her teeth for the effect. “None of that is my business. You made that abundantly clear.”

“I never said that,” Maura counters. The way Jane wafts toward her, the scent of despair and righteousness, Maura might topple. So her hand goes to that same wall near Jane’s shoulder. “I said I needed time. And you gave it to me in spades. Hell, you gave me time and an entire continent. I am lucky that my mother has contacts.”

“You sicced your mom on me?” Jane, incredulous, drops her hands so that they ball into fists at her sides. 

“I was willing to do anything to find you. You’ve been gone for six months. I’ve spent almost all of those figuring out where you went.”

“Allora, già sai,” Jane shouts, loud enough for several tourists to turn their way. She yanks her tone down to a poisonous whisper. “Now what do you want.”

She doesn’t ask, she demands. And it pains her because Maura is on the verge of tears, Maura is telling her that Ian is gone, and Maura has come all this way to see her, but a heart broken is a heart reluctant to open. 

“I want you to come home. Please, come home,” pleads Maura. The watery begging pulls Jane forward, but so do Maura’s hands on the lapels of her jacket. Surprisingly strong, and intoxicatingly warm. “I… I need you. I thought I needed him and the whole time he was there, I… was so empty for you,” Maura confesses. “I needed filling up and you were nowhere to be found.”

“Well you found me,” Jane is deflated. Jane closes her eyes as her last defense against the onslaught.

“So, will you come with me? Come back home? My mother would even lend us her plane,” Maura senses an in, a lowering of the defenses, so she takes it.

“No,” Jane says. When she opens her eyes again, they are resolute. But then, there is a smile. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. And, if you really want me to come around? For there to even be a chance of moving forward? You’re not goin’ anywhere, either. For a while.”

Maura cocks her head, confused, but oh is she smart. “Europe?” she asks. Jane frowns. “Italy.”

“Napoli,” Jane corrects. 

“For how long?” Maura asks, and she hasn’t said no.

“For however long it takes,” Jane says. “And you learn to work with me again before you, before we…”

“Love again,” Maura supplies, giddy off of chance.

“Ah! Ah,” Jane holds a finger up in the air. “That’s a forbidden word,” she nods in the direction of Charles, who has stayed respectfully close, but also respectfully behind. “He with you?”

“My tour guide, yes,” Maura tells her.

“Ok then. You know what’s not a forbidden word? Surveillance. Which is what I’m doin’ here. So, tell him to fuck off, join my group, and I’ll fill you in on the train.”

“The train? Like… the metro…?” Maura scrunches her nose.

“The train. You’re doin’ Napoli. With me, remember? That means public transit,” Jane says. She waits for about a dozen more people to pass, hand on Maura’s back, and then guides them over together. “Don’t worry, I’m sure your mother can get you a car once you settle in.”

Maura laughs. “Yes, Detective,” she responds.

“We’re gonna have to work on that accent,” Jane jokes. “But somethin’ tells me you’ll be a quick study. OK, Americani! Let’s keep it moving! Let me show all where the gladiators duked it out, left everything on the field, so to speak. And boy, do I mean everything.”

Something told the both of them, when they returned to Jane’s group, that they would find themselves on such a field not very long from now. Whether opposite each other or with each other, only time would tell.