#my glasses were the issue bc they did not agree with the flash

[doesntseeyourbeauty]

happy swiftie selfie night! it’s weird to post pictures of myself but here are my most recent favourite ones (not really selfies but hated the ones i tried to take - it’s too dark in my apartment without flash and my glasses weren’t cooperating)

[cali-holland]

Golden Bullets, Ch. 3: All The Time in the World

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond!AU

Harrison Osterfield, Agent 007, was once the best MI6 agent around with the astounding reputation as a womanizer. Between illegal gold smuggling and black market trading of weapons, he finds himself deeper in his latest mission than intended, weaving himself into a web of the criminal organization, S.P.E.C.T.R.E.. At the center of it all is the one woman who’s never fallen for his charms- you, Agent 006, the best MI6 agent, the new assistant director of the program, and his new partner.

Word Count: 3000

Gif is not mine

Golden Bullets Masterlist

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: violence (using toiletries as weapons bc why not), death, swearing, involuntary drug usage, drinking, vomiting (self-inflicted)

Featured Song: We Have All the Time in the World by Louis Armstrong from On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)

 ~ “We have all the time in the world, time enough for life to unfold all the precious things love has in store”

~~~

“That can’t be her real name.”

“Tom, I’m being serious.” Harrison said, but even he couldn’t disguise the amused grin on his face when describing the intoxicatingly beautiful woman that was Pussy Galore to the quartermaster.

“Sounds like a horny teenage boy named her, right?” You joked, sitting beside Harrison on the hotel room couch. The laptop was propped up on the coffee table so that you and Harrison could both video chat with Tom, discussing the previous night.

“Is that your bullet wound?” He asked as he stepped closer to the camera, as if that’d help him see your bandaged arm better. Following last night’s events, it was difficult for you to really move your arm fluidly, so you had opted to wear a tank top on your day “off”. You leaned in, carefully taking off the bandage to show the damaged skin and stitches.

“Hurts like a bitch, but I’ll live.” You told him.

“Nice stitch work, 007. Practicing needlework in your spare time?” The quartermaster teased.

“Shove off.” Harrison rolled his eyes at his friend’s comment while you laughed, fixing the bandage, “Did you finish getting the specs on the flash drive?”

“I’m trying, but there seems to be an issue.” Tom stated, his eyes trailing over another computer screen. You looked down at the golden flash drive currently connected to the laptop. Sciarra was dead and all you had from last night was that one flash drive, you and Harrison both needed it to lead back to Goldfinger.

“You’re the greatest hacker of the century. What could possibly prevent you from getting past this flash drive’s security?” You asked.

“Thank you for the compliment, love, but I can’t hack it from here. It appears the security system on this drive is a replica of one I made, which should mean I can get into it from here, but it seems like I made it too sophisticated.” He paused, with a sigh, “I have a hunch about who could be behind this kind of security system.”

You looked between him and Harrison, both agents seemingly to wordlessly agree on who could be behind the drive. Knowing you’d want an answer, Harrison spoke up, “It’s Raoul Silva.”

“You mean the former agent turned cyberterrorist? I thought you killed him last year.” You said, and he gave you an odd look, “What? I told you I read your file, Osterfield.”

“I’m flattered you remember my cases.” He smirked, before Tom cleared his throat on the screen.

“As I was saying, I need to physically have the drive attached to my computer to get through its security and hopefully track Goldfinger. Silva was connected to numerous weapons dealers, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he helped Goldfinger set up security before he died.”

“So you can’t hack this?”

Tom looked at Harrison with furrowed eyebrows, questioning his friend. “Can’t hack this? Did you not listen to anything I just said? What exactly do you think my expertise is?”

“Sitting behind a computer screen.” He joked.

“Well, I'll hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pajamas before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do in a year in the field.” Tom said, and you laughed, nodding, fully aware of his skills, “Either way, I’ll meet you two in Montenegro to finish on the flash drive.”

“Montenegro?” You and Harrison both questioned.

“Right.” He laughed a little, realizing you two didn’t know about your next step of the mission, “M will call you two later tonight. I don’t know all the details, but I know you two are going to Montenegro, so I assume I’ll be meeting you there.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Montenegro.” Harrison smiled fondly.

“I’ll let you two go. M should be calling soon.” Tom said before ending the call. You let out a small sigh, leaning back on the couch comfortably.

“Have you ever been to Montenegro?”

“Once, but not on a mission.” You replied, not really wanting to discuss your past trip. Unfortunately for you, your partner was observant and caught onto that- and he was also a bit of an asshole, so he pressed the topic.

“You know, I tried reading the Montenegro part of your file, but almost everything was redacted because the clearance of that file is only you and M.” He stated, watching you carefully as you shifted uncomfortably, tightening your jaw.

“What about it?”

“Who did you kill in Montenegro that is so private only you and M can know?” He questioned, and you glared over at him.

Before you could reply, the laptop began to ring, signaling an incoming call from M. You sat up on the couch, answering it.

“Agent 006, 007.” She greeted with the normal stern look on her face.

“M.” You and Harrison both nodded in reply to her.

“Q tells me you two found a flash drive, one suspected to be linked to Goldfinger.” She started, “And that Sciarra is dead.”

“The sniper got to him before we could get him in the DB10.” Harrison explained, and you swallowed a lump in your throat as M’s cold eyes trailed over the bandage on your arm.

“I also heard the sniper shot 006.” She said, “Tomorrow, you two will leave for Montenegro. Agent 009 has been tracking a private banker who funds terrorists, Le Chiffre. Le Chiffre seems to be Goldfinger’s competition at the moment. 009 reported multiple murders of Le Chiffre’s men with golden bullets through their skulls, all of which are sniper shots.”

“Forgive me, M, but if Agent 009 is on the case, then why are we going after Le Chiffre as well?” Harrison asked, voicing the question that was also floating around in your head. Why would MI6 need three agents on a private banker case?

“Because last we heard from 009 himself, he was being followed by Le Chiffre, and last night, local police found him tortured to death. His balls were so beaten, they could barely identify him as a man anymore- one of Le Chiffre’s signature torture methods.” At her words, Harrison squirmed uncomfortably beside you, subconsciously resting a hand over his crotch protectively. “Since Sciarra is a dead end until Q cracks that flash drive, Le Chiffre is our next best lead to Goldfinger.” 

“When do we leave tomorrow?” You spoke up.

“I am working with the Monaco police right now to acquire a private jet for the two of you. I will let you know in the morning. And, remember, this mission is not a personal one.” With that, she hung up the call and you shut off the laptop, getting up from the couch.

“What happened in Montenegro?” Harrison asked you, standing up from his spot on the couch. You didn’t reply as you pulled on a sweatshirt to hide your bandage. Wordlessly, you grabbed the ice bucket and left the hotel room.

You didn’t really need ice, but it wouldn’t hurt to ice your arm or tense muscles- besides, you needed to be away from your partner for a few minutes. Harrison was definitely getting more bearable, but you didn’t exactly want to tell him about Montenegro, not yet. When you came back from getting the bucket of ice, you saw a hotel room service busboy, standing outside of your door. Just before he knocked, you spoke up, “Is that for room 1964?”

“Yes.” The busboy replied almost nervously, holding up a bucket of champagne out to you.

“Thank you.” You smiled as you took the bucket from him, balancing it with your own ice bucket. He nodded, before disappearing down the hall. You laughed to yourself as you looked at the expensive bottle of champagne; leave it to Harrison to want to drink before leaving Monaco. Unlocking the hotel room door, you pushed it open, and Harrison looked up from his phone as he laid down on his bed.

“Champagne?” You offered, setting down the buckets on the coffee table.

“Why not celebrate Monaco?” He laughed. Both of you sat down on the couch, and he effortlessly popped open the champagne bottle. You held up two empty flute glasses for him to pour the champagne into.

“To Monaco.”

“To Monaco.” You clicked your glass against Harrison’s before both of you took sips of the smooth liquid.

“Does this taste odd to you?” Harrison asked, licking his lips from the very small amount of champagne that had actually made it in his mouth before he spit it back in.

“I’m not the person to ask. It’s been a while since I had nice champagne like this.” You laughed, taking another sip of the golden drink.

“It’s probably just too fancy for my tastebuds.” He chuckled, eyeing the glass.

“With all the martinis you drink, your tastebuds must be dead.” You teased, already starting to feel cloudy from the alcohol. You wondered how high the proof was, but that thought was gone as quickly as it came. “You drown yourself in martinis- shaken, not stirred.”

“Martinis are superior. You’d know that if you’d drown yourself in anything.” He quipped back.

“It’d take a while for me to drown in anything- I can hold my breath for six minutes.” You replied confidently, sipping some more of the champagne.

“I can only hold my breath for two. That’s impressive.” His eyes widened in surprise at the little fun fact.

“Most people can only hold them for two, but I was a swimmer growing up and I practiced holding my breath for long periods of time. I’ve got the best lungs on MI6.”

“And the best shot, too, the way I hear it.” Harrison laughed a little, before leaning in closer to you on the couch. Your face was close enough to his that you could feel his breath, and you felt yourself starting to, ironically, drown in his ocean blue eyes. With his voice low and just above a whisper, he asked, “How does someone get the reputation of a maneater?”

“How does someone get the reputation of a womanizer?” You replied, just as quietly. Pulling away from him, you took another long sip of your champagne, the once full glass now empty. The room fell silent before you solemnly spoke up, “I killed him.”

“Who?”

“My weakness.” You rolled up your tank top just enough to show the bullet wound scar on your hip. “I was in Montenegro on vacation with my last boyfriend. I spotted Le Chiffre at a casino, and I called M for permission to strike. When I returned to the hotel room, my boyfriend was there with Le Chiffre- he’d been working for him the whole time. I took a shot at him, but I missed, and he shot me. Then, I shot him again, but that time, I didn’t miss. The only reason Le Chiffre didn’t kill me was Agent 009. Le Chiffre ran, and 009 saved me.”

“So, Montenegro is-”

“Where I became the maneater.” You said. Harrison reached a hand out to touch the scar, but you slapped his hand away, fixing your shirt.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He replied, his voice filled with pity. You could tell he wasn’t just apologizing for overstepping and trying to touch the scar- no, he was apologizing for ever thinking less of you based on your reputation and he pitied you for your story, for all you had to go through to get that name. It was then that you realized he hadn’t really had much to drink of the champagne.

“Why’d you order this if you weren’t going to drink it?” You asked, and Harrison furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“What are you talking about?”

“The champagne. You ordered it when I got ice?”

“I didn’t order this.” The room fell silent, save for the clattering of your champagne flute against the floor from you dropping it. 

“Neither of us ordered this?” You questioned, and he shook his head. Immediately, you got up and stumbled to the bathroom, only making Harrison more confused.

“What are you doing?” Harrison followed after you.

“I’m puking because I was just fucking drugged. No wonder I’m so goddamn talkative right now.” You stated, sitting down in front of the toilet. You looked over at him in the hallway, “Are you going to call Q and have him analyze the champagne or are you going to watch me vomit up whatever drug is in my body? You had less than me, so figure out what happened.”

“How the fuck did someone drug us?” He grumbled, closing the door and rushing back into the room. He pulled up the laptop and called the quartermaster.

“I was just about to call you.” Tom said with a laugh, but his smile dropped as he saw Harrison pouring some champagne into a testing vial.

“Find out what’s in this. We’ve been drugged.” He explained, placing the vile on one of Q’s special testing trays, equipped for analyzing substances through the computer. The computer couldn’t figure out exactly what the substance was, but Q, being the genius he is, could based on the computer’s analysis.

“How did two of Britain’s top agents get drugged with a bottle of champagne?” Q asked, typing away at his computer. Harrison grimaced, hearing the distinct sounds of you in the other room. “Is- Is Agent 006 vomiting?”

“Yes, she’s trying to clear out her system.”

“Shouldn’t you be doing that too?” He looked at his friend skeptically.

“I didn’t even have a full sip of the champagne and it’s been in my system long enough that it’s already effective. She drank an entire glass flute, so however potent this drug is, she had a lot of it.”

“Well, you two got lucky.” Tom breathed out, reviewing the results. “It was a harmless drug, it’s not poisonous or anything. It’s meant to disorient you, weaken your fighting, and make you more conversational. It’s used for interrogations.”

“So that means-“ Before Harrison could finish his thought process, there was a knock at the hotel room door. He quietly shut off the computer, ending the phone call swiftly, and grabbed the golden flash drive, pocketing the valuable object. Grabbing his gun and yours, he softly moved across the room to conceal himself behind the wall.

“Room service.” A voice behind the door called, and Harrison quietly cocked his gun while pocketing yours.

In less than a moment, the door burst, and he kept himself quiet against the wall, hoping the silence in the bathroom meant you knew what was happening out here. Based on the sound of feet, Harrison calculated there were three men in the room now. One stepped past the wall, gun raised as he surveyed the room. Harrison stepped forward, shooting the man dead immediately.

Meanwhile, your ears perked up as you heard multiple footsteps outside the door. Your head was spinning from the drug concoction and the fact that you forced yourself to throw up. It wasn’t until you heard the first gunshot that you knew it was bad.

“Harrison,” You mumbled, pulling yourself up from the floor. Looking around the bathroom, you cursed at the lack of sharp objects. Grabbing your tweezers from the counter, you supposed they’d have to do. You flung open the bathroom door, jabbing the tweezers into the neck of the man nearest you. You kicked the other man down, pressing onto his neck with your foot.

“You’re okay.” Harrison breathed out, coming to stand beside you after he shot the other man, the one with the tweezers in his neck, again.

“Still light headed.” You replied. The man below you moved and Harrison was quick to point his gun at him threateningly. You stepped back, allowing his steadier foot to replace yours. 

“Who sent you?” He questioned.

“G-Goldfinger.” The man wheezed out.

“And was it Goldfinger who made you drug us? How did you find us?”

The man just laughed in response, and you heard the sounds of the police sirens flooding down the street.

“They heard the shots. We gotta go.” You said, and Harrison nodded. You quickly loaded the bags as your partner kept a watchful eye on the enemy. Knowing there was no way you and Harrison could escape if the police got involved, you two left the other man there, alive but weak.

“Next time, no champagne.” Harrison stated once the two of you were seated in the DB10. You sent a quick message to Moneypenny, who would send the word onto M that you and Harrison were en route in the DB10, no private jet necessary tomorrow. Considering how long the drive was, you knew it’d be enough time for you two to meet with Q in Montenegro and catch Le Chiffre.

“You’re going to drive us to Montenegro in this car, and I’m going to forget I ever told you anything about that god awful place.” You groaned, leaning your head against the window. “What did they drug us with?”

“Q says it’s a harmless interrogation drug.” He replied, flicking his eyes over to you, a new softness to them, “Get some rest, you’ve had a rough go.”

You turned to face ahead, trying to get yourself comfortable, and the car was silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the DB10 moving against the road and the quiet Duran Duran song playing over the speakers. You looked over at Harrison, who had his eyes trained on the road, “Thank you.”

“For what?” He asked, genuinely curious about the sudden appreciation.

“For saving me yesterday and patching me up.” You said softly, studying his face for a moment, before shifting to look ahead once more. “I’d do the same for you.”

“Let’s hope you’ll never have to.”

~~~

General Tag List: @viagracex​ @theamazingtomholland​ @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-holland​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​ @sunkisseddreamer​

Harrison Tag List: @Calhtlland @tomkindholland​ @where-art-thau-romeo​

Series Tag List: @quinjetboi @baby-haz @kickingn-ames @rougese7en @hollandsosterfield @nj01​ @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @spencerreidxoxo​

[oofchris]

⌠ MADISON BAILEY, 19, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, CHRISTINA ' CHRIS ' ANDERSON! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in MACGYVER SURVIVAL SKILLS & NAVIGATION + PROTECTION & ENFORCEMENT; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( speckles of dried paint on fingers, cruising round on a longboard, joints tucked behind ears wrapped in colourful papers ). when it’s the ( sagittarius )’s birthday on 12/27/2001, they always request their PHO from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ mochi, 24, she/her, gmt ⍀

@gallagherintro​

hi uwu, here is a new baby who is not very baby but still a lil baby

 . . . it got quite long so tldr; she’s a stubborn art hoe from california who’s dad died so she’s come to gallagher bc her mom is a professor in the p+e major <3 

parallels

wyldstyle  — the lego movie: 85%

mulan — mulan: 84%

nymphadora tonks — harry potter: 83%

princess fiona — shrek: 83%

robin buckley — stranger things: 82%

here is a full list

HISTORY

potential triggers — car accident, parental death, divorce

so she’s grown up on on the west coast p much ??? her whole life. her mom worked as a bodyguard for sum famous peeps, dad was doctor but occasionally also a medic in the field — they didn’t always see eye to eye and divorced when chris was around nine. it was mostly to do with chris’ future like whether she’d go to spy prep school and follow in their footsteps and her dad didn’t want that for her so they disagreed, and she lived with him instead, living a more or less normal life. her mom then moved away when the opportunity to become a professor at gallagher presented itself, so they’ve really not been close at all since then

lived fairly comfortably, either way her dad had money and her mom sent support too. her father definitely earns less from no longer being in the spy world but he vowed to leave that behind when he divorced his wife and other than a few people from his past popping up unannounced, he kept that vow. they moved around a couple times in order to keep chris safe, and especially when someone did find them ( even if it was friendly ) but mostly grew up in california, and a lot of it is to do with the fact chris loves it there so much

but chris knows about the spy world, what her mom does and the type of school she works at, but it never interested her enough to try and reach out or fight her dad on it as she enjoyed her life 

she remembers her mom as someone stubborn, argumentative, volatile which is the opposite of her dad who was patient, loving and endearing — so it’s a no brainer for her, she loves her dad a lot and he gave up a lot for her while her mom gave chris up for that world, her job, etc aka nada

BUT her dad died in a car accident recently that she was also in but was only a bit beaten up at most ( has some cuts / new scars, learn more below ) leaving her mother to swiftly pick her up and enrol her into gallagher, more to keep an eye on her than anything. 

her mom chose her majors and some of her classes for her, which chris is mad about, but mainly bc looking at what ones were offered she’d def pick macgyver anyway, and her mom argued p+e was a step into the physical and combat side of thing without being too heavy on it ( tho it’s the major she teaches so she’s biased and chris just thinks she wants to be closer ) but tbh ? chris just doesn’t want her mom to be right whatsoever or have the satisfaction of thinking she knows her daughter in anyway at all but she knows if she went undecided she’d probably pick those up again in her second year so she’s just ‘ going with it ‘ begrudgingly as if she has no choice

PERSONALITY

extremely stubborn, which she gets from her mom, would rather ruin her life than go back on something or admit she was wrong, if she apologises for something she'll find a way to do it where she's not actually ever saying the words ' im sorry ' or ' i was wrong ' and would rather start another argument than do that — but obviously she loves other people apologising to her

she is generally nice ??? i just think she can be irritated easy ?????? like a bit of a hot head tho she'd argue she's chill, she is mostly chill but likes to debate, be right, and can be very my way or the high way at times — i’ll figure her out more as i play her bc i can’t tell if she’s mean or not but i don’t think so, just a bit tougher than she needs to be 

in my head she’s like a seb/luc hybrid so . . . take that as you will 

doesn’t dislike gallagher ( mostly ) but thinks all the legacies — even tho she technically is one, she doesn’t identify as one — are entitled spoiled brats and should get their heads out of their ass, doesn't like that being a legacy is even a thing though a lot of it definitely comes from her bitter resentment towards her mom and how she'd have rather leave her and her dad than leave the spy life hbsjhbsjhb also i think bc of her mom she has level 5 clearance which . . . she’s not complaining about but definitely complaining that clearance levels are even a thing, she’s gonna contradict herself a lot, i feel it

MISC

i THINK she’s only arrived, like, at the start of spring semester tbh, she wasn’t here for fall so she is new new

halfway through her first year at stanford studying art alongside film and media as a minor before her mom brought her to gallagher — which she's kind of not happy about like she understands her dad didn't want it for her, she also wanted to just stay in california but the only family she has now is on her mom's side.

she's still enrolled at stanford, though dropped her minor, and is studying online for her major as she's made it clear to her mom she doesn't want to be a spy so she pulled a few strings with the stanford admission board to allow her studying to continue ( idek if this is allowed i'm just pretending her mom is powerful enough to do it ) — it was a big reason chris agreed to come to gallagher, not that she had much of a choice, bc she wants her ‘ normal ‘ life and her ‘ normal ‘ degree regardless of being at a spy school

only her mom calls her christina and she actually hates it so pls dont unless you are trying to get on her bad side — also she probs avoids her mom like the plague so don’t bring that up either

often covered in little cuts and bruises from her skating but she’s got two fresh / soon to be scars on the left side of her face on the top of her cheek bone and on her jaw from a shards of glass when she was in the car accident — she is the type to pick her scabs until they bleed again, too, so i picture her with loads of little scars especially on her hands, elbows and knees

she did learn self defense from her dad growing up and she has studied jiujitsu and akido since she was around thirteen, she also boxes but it's more casual like for stress and stuff rather than something she takes overly seriously

she likes surfing, diving, enjoys the kind of world that exists underwater where it's just peaceful and calm so she will be around the lake a lot / at the pool if you need to find her

she’s 5’3 and never wears heels

pansexual and while it might change i wanna say she's not overly sexual, like wouldn't have hookups for no reason ?? but potentially some one night stands or drunken mistakes or whatever. doesn't look down on sluts but i think she doesn't have the most confidence in that area, or in self esteem in general, so she'll ??? only really have a frequent thing if she feels Hella comfortable

the type to have crushes tho, but not act on them at all bc again self esteem issues 

bit of a tomboy, skater, stoner — though she wouldn't identify as one — really loves movies and can be a proper filmophile, probably has more film soundtracks on her spotify unwrapped than she does actual artists and don't get her started on Women— in film bc she won't stop 

very active, sporty, probs trying to parkour around campus

enjoys painting, sketching, simply creating things — often is filming, riding a longboard, working on some kind of little project she'll take too seriously but won't show people until it's perfect

is a little pretentious at times ??? doesn't necessarily mean to be but if it's a debate on a topic she's passionate about ( such as art, film, etc ) then she will try to ensure you know just how knowledgeable she is on it, she's not afraid to flex but she wouldn't outwardly flex for no reason if that makes sense 

she also . . . feels p dumb at gallagher tbh, a lot of her strengths lie in her creativity and art and now she’s very ??? wtf am i doing ?? but she will continue to act like she knows !

can speak english, french, german and spanish all pretty fluently, italian well enough to get by, knows a bit of japanese bc she’s . . . a weeb sometimes but also bc of her martial arts

CONNECTIONS

FAMILY / CHILDHOOD FRIENDS ( SPY ) — so this would more than likely be before her parents divorce, but she’s not against keeping in contact a little if she liked you, it could have also been a family who reached out to her dad afterwards because while he’d move away / hide his location promptly after, he would still help them if they needed it ( 1 / ? )

FAMILY / CHILDHOOD FRIENDS ( NON SPY ) — same thing, but would have probably been after the divorce, just normal families that her and her dad knew, neighbours, work colleagues, school friends, would more than likely have also needed to be west coast sorta area but if your muse was there briefly, they could have kept in contact once they’d left ( 0 / ? )

LEGACIES — she potentially . . . won’t like you if you’re a legacy and you are egotistical / assholey even a tiny bit, bc that basically proves her argument that they’re ALL like that jshbjsbjs but i wud like her to have legacies that she . . . hates that she likes as well, i think she’ll realise p quickly most are fine lmao

ART HOES — whether they’re into painting as well and they do it together or they let her paint them !

SMOKE / SKATE BUDS — one or the other, both, whatever !! 

A HOOK UP THAT’S EITHER ALREADY HAPPENED OR GOING TO — in my head she’s a bit ??? w sex tbh so maybe plot this out a bit more but can be a ?? positive relationship or a negative one idm

CRUSHES !!!!!!!!! — she’s not even been at the school long but im certain she probs has some already

i’m not good w wanted connections so pls just hmu if u have ideas and as usual like dis for plots / jus message me, i’ll be on discord !! if you don’t have/use discord just message me first on tumblr bc otherwise i wont realise jhbsjhbjhbsj

[paradise-creator]

OwO when u have time,, can I have a haven box for BNHA?? But just when you’re free and not working on prior works!! >:( I’m watching u bish

You can use my name in the result if you want to lol I already know it anyway!!

She/her, Taurus, INTJ, slytherin (pretty freakin’ queer but I usually lean towards boys/enbies more)

Personality: the first thing people notice about me is that I am less of a feeler and more of a thinker. I do have an IQ of 125, but my emotional intelligence is quite low, so I have trouble sympathizing with others. But I learned through experience, so I don’t SEEM emotionless. I can (and will) help my friends through tough times if they need me. I’m pragmatic, so I always go for the facts instead of the feelings during decision making or tough situations. I hold a lot of perfectionist traits that make it really hard for me to be satisfied with my results if they aren’t higher than the norm. I also have a slight issue with saying no, so sometimes I’ll offer my help or enrol myself in long-term projects while knowing I legit do not have time for more stuff on my schedule. Being a bit smarter than average, I sometimes feel like I’m obligated to help others so that they can do good too (however, I do like helping people with their hw to a certain extent). I’m working on those issues though!! I’m also an introvert, and I can get rlly tired if I have to be interacting for more than four hours straight with people, especially if their persona isn’t rlly compatible with mine.

However, when I’m surrounded by friends (or generally people who aren’t my superiors), I’m very energetic, loud, silly and I have a sharp tongue. I’m also insanely competitive, like someone please stop me?? My sense of humour goes from absolute nonsense to almost mean spirited sarcasm, but it all depends on who I’m talking to. I’m a MAJOR memer, I have a bunch of files filled with them, and I couldn’t bear be with people who didn’t understand my meme references. When I start liking something, I can get easily obsessed. I’m stubborn, therefore very passionate about the things I care about. I also have a slight case of the Endorphin Junkie, meaning that I really, really like the high you get after sports so I do crossfit training like five to six times a week. I’m unapologetically myself, and I will not ever change who I am to fit within the norm. I’m sometimes told that (that I’m odd, I mean), but I usually thank the people who tell me. I have a really, really big love for music and I have a tendency to break into song sometimes when people say a line from a song I know. I also cry sometimes when music gets really good ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ whoops

Appearance: I’m around 5’6”, with hazel eyes and brown hair that goes around to my shoulders. It gets curly out of nowhere. I can either wake up with straight hair or wake up with a freakin perm, it’s funny. My body isn’t exactly the lean type, I’m somewhere around the buff area of the scale instead, but as long as I seem visibly strong, I’m satisfied. When I’m not going anywhere significant, I usually just wear sport shirts and sweats, but I have a penchant for Dark Academia so I like /looking/ like I’m smart sometimes. And I have glasses bc apparently my eyes are assholes and they work too hard and it hurts my brain all the time

Likes: music (DavidBowieDavidBowieDavidBow-); I have a really wide range of music that goes from early 2000’s pop to 1700’s requiems(my faves are Bowie, Queen and Pink Floyd). I enjoy studying theoretical fields, reading, and I like talking about Absurd Theories About Reality That Make Little To No Sense. I like sports, and I love joking around with friends in the most exaggerated ways. I also love the colour green and I’m more of a cat person

Dislikes: dogs (they’re cute but keep them away pls), ignorant people, irresponsible people, spiders, things I’m not good at from the beginning, having to deal with strangers being upset, crying (me. I don’t like crying; I mean me, I’m fine if my friends cry)

Other fun facts!!

- my goals for the future are all over the place; I want to work for Disney, I want to get a musical composition degree, I want a biomedical engineering bachelors degree, I want an astrophysics doctorate, I want to study languages, I want to be a foreign English teacher... I can’t ever decide.

- I have a long history with getting crushes on guys who turned out to be gay. It happens so often and I HATE IT, it makes me feel terrible.

- I!!love!!70’s!!music!!so!!much!! I was raised on that stuff, my dad wouldn’t let us listen to anything else

- Lol my favourite playlist name is Drugs Playlist But I Don’t Even Do Drugs it’s just a bunch of Pink Floyd and David Bowie songs

- My favourite movies are 80’s or 90’s comedy classics!! Like Wayne’s World, or Airplane!, or Night at the Roxbury. I keep quoting Wayne’s World and no one understands :(

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Hello and Welcome my Starlight!

The Haven box includes:

- Match up

- Sun drop

- Flashes of memory

- Truth or dare gone wrong

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

I'd match you up with

Sero Hanata, Cellophane

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Sun drops

The reasons I paired you

- It me awhile to think about who to match you up with

- I was thinking of either Bakugou or Denki

- BUT THEN I REMEMBERED SERO

- Sero is such an underrated character smh

- BUT THIS DYNAMIC IS WHAT I LIVE FOR

-At first, you might be annoyed at his lack of knowledge but you over past that

- His EQ can help you grow as a person as well

- You have the IQ he has the EQ, BALANCE!

- You two would often have laughing sessions at class

- No cap tho, you two would be the most interesting couple

- You guys would have a matching necklace or a Keychain (IDK why but I feel like it-)

- You get along well with Denki, (IT TOOK A LONG TIME)

- But you would rather hang out with Bakugou (He tolerates you more than the others).

- BRO, please give him love. He craves your attention

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Flashes of memories

Sero: Hello there hot stuff!

Eve: Hello there Soy sauce

Sero: NOT YOU TOO

Eve: Just kidding, Hello babe

Sero: ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?

Eve: Yes, killing you with love

Sero: Dang that's smooth

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

Sero: He-

Eve: I didn't take your Pocky, Denki did

Sero: How-

Eve: You've been yelling about it for the past few minutes

Sero: Oh-

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

Sero: Can you help me with studying?

Eve: Struggling again?

Sero: Yes...

Eve: Why did I date you again?

Sero: Please?

Eve: ...

Also Eve: Fine

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Truth or dare gone wrong

The class 1-A were all gathered in their common room, even Bakugou was present. The class was having a truth or dare session, it seemed interesting. “Sero, my man! Truth or dare?” Denki asked as he looked at Sero. “Truth! I choose truth,” Sero said. “Who have you been talking on the phone to this past weeks? The one I keep hearing is my pumpkin?” Denki asked. Sero’s face then turned a light shade of pink. “O-Oh- ummm,” He started as he looked away. “Does our Cellophane have a girlfriend?” Mina teased as she poked Sero. “Y-Yeah,” He stuttered. “OI THAT’S NOT FAIR?!? WHY CAN YOU HAVE A GIRL BUT I CAN’T,” Denki sulked as he placed his head on the table. “If you weren’t such a perv then maybe you can get one!” Hakagure responded.

“Don’t be shy. Tell us more,” Mina said. Sero’s blush darkened and he looked away. “We are playing truth or dare! It’s my turn to ask,” Sero then said. “Actually, I am quite curious as well. We can always continue later,” Momo said as she smiled. Everyone agreed and they then looked at the nervous male. “C’mon now guys, this is unfair,” Sero said as he looked at everyone. “But you have a girl and we want tea,” Mina then said as she sat in front of him. “I- um, you guys really want to know about her, huh?” Sero said as he chuckled. Everyone nodded and stared at Sero intently. “Just tell us already, Soy sauce,” Bakugou growled as he glared at Sero. “Don’t listen to him, bro. He is just jealous,” Kirishima said. “WHAT-“ Bakugou was about to counter but was silenced. “Fine! Fine! You got me in a corner,” Sero then said as he chuckled. “She should be coming here,” He added as he looked at the door. “Three, two, one,” He then said as he pointed to the door.

“Hello, is Sero Hanta here?”A feminine voice said. “ARE YOU A PSYCHIC?” Denki said as he looked surprised. “I’m right here pumpkin!” Sero then said as he smirked. His nervousness melted away as he saw the 5’6ft girl. It was his girlfriend, Eve, and he was overjoyed. “Hey there babe!” She then said as she smiled. “DANG YOU GOT A FINE LADY!” Denki then yelled as he checked her out. “Keep your eyes above for I’ll gorge them out,” Eve then said as she glared at Denki. Soon enough, Mineta tried to touch her as well but his efforts were at vain. Sero used his tape as to stop Mineta from getting closer. And Eve kicked him away, far away from her. “Get your filthy hands away from her,” Sero said as he stood up. He then wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Woah, that was so manly!” Kirishima said as he smiled.

“GIRLS! GET HER-“ Mina said as she tackled the girl. They didn’t fall down but Mina was laughing and hugging her. “Girl! How long have you been together?” Mina asked as she pulled away. Eve was a bit uncomfortable but she merely had a stoic face. “A few weeks,” She responded bluntly. And soon enough, the truth or dare session was forgotten. It was replace with the class 1-A trying to pry out the tea from the couple. Did they succeed? No, not really. Though the class seemed to love Eve and her antics. The class even tried to make them forget about the date they have planned. But either way, Sero and Eve got manage to get away to have their small movie date at his room.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Author's note

Hai bb! I'm sorry it took so long. But thanks for requesting again~

[hyunsracha]

rubicund — bang chan

word count: 1.8k

summary: music production major chris really needs a place to live - and you just happen to have a few empty rooms and need a new roommate.

right.

let’s go lesbians!!

so u, lovely lil college sophomore u, lived in an apartment

fuck dorm lives

n ur roommate was ur friend n everything was SICK

until ur friend moved out - to live w his boyfriend -_-

now u were alone :(

and u didn’t have enough money to pay rent by yourself :(

so u either move out! or find another roommate

but ur apartment was way too sick to just MOVE OUT LIKE THAT

so u started advertising hey! i’m a poor college student! be my roommate if ur also in college! hey!

christopher bang, college sophomore, has been kicked out of his apartment.

his roommate, jisung, said, “hey chris? this apartment is a one bedroom n my boyfriend is moving in so …. can u go?” LIKE IT WAS THE MOST CASUAL THING EVER???

SURE JISUNG, I’LL JUST BE HOMELESS!!

chris, the angel he is, agreed.

but now he needed a place to live! hopefully w enough room to set up his recording stuff

so he started looking until- hey! he stumbled upon your ad!

the ad seemed friendly enough, so he went to check it out

u opened the door on a rainy sunday after rushing around to make sure everything looked PERFECT!!

every couch pillow was Fluffed to Perfection >:(( and every surface was Sparking >:((

honestly though?? chris thought U were sparkling

u opened the door, ur face flushed from all the rushing about, and u smiled the most gentle smile ever,

“hi! i’m y/n. you’re chris, right?”

“t-that i am!”

you started giving him a tour of the apartment, making sure to emphasize how good a roommate u were and that u usually stayed in ur room so !! no need to worry about u !!

but chris was !! worrying !!

u were so cute and ur voice was so cute n u seemed so shy and unsure of what u were doing

u were just so soft! how was he supposed to live w the biggest cutie in the world?

“um. i’m a music production major...and i make music with two of my friends, and i usually work at home. is that an issue? would it be too loud?”

“oh no not at all! we have an extra room that my old roommate used as a dance studio, so you could use it as a recording studio or whatever!”

dang it

chris was kinda hoping that his music thing would be annoying so he couldn’t live there

but the house was perfect! and u seemed like the perfect roommate!

a week later, chris was moving in

u helped him, of course, u lil angel

u didn’t really know chris that well, so u didn’t know if he was just a shy dude or if he was nervous around u

news flash: he’s nervous

u were helping him move in??? what a kind soul!!! can u get any cuter >:((

apparently.

he was organizing his stuff that night when there was a light knocking on his door.

it was u

“hey”

“hey?”

“i uh-” u were looking down at ur feet, ur hands clasped behind ur back, “was just wondering if you wanted to come watch a movie with me? i mean, we live together now so we should probably get to know each other and maybe be friends, yanno?”

“o-oh! sure! what movie?”

“i was thinking mulan…”

“ur speaking my language now”

so there u two were, all sprawled out in the living room, covering in soft blankets and chomping down on some snacks.

u two were barely focused on the movie, finding each other much more interesting.

u learned that he made music with his friends jisung and changbin, he was australian, and that the color green really spoke to his soul for some reason he could not understand

“just dye your hair green then” you had joked, to which he responded with “bet!”

and the next night, your glove-covered hands were covered in green as you rubbed them around in chris’s hair.

he told u that his friends kept calling him broccoli chan and that he thought about punching jisung for a long time but he liked it a lot

u felt a sense of pride that u did the hair that chris liked!! yes!! go u!!

as the weeks went on, you and chris only got closer and closer.

and your feelings grew and grew.

at first, you just brushed it off as spending so much time together

but when he spent a few days at changbin’s to finish a few tracks, u found yourself missing him >:(

u missed his stupid broccoli hair and his stupid smile and his stupid giggle and his stupid dad jokes that DIDN’T EVEN MAKE ANY SENSE-

oh no!

u liked chris

now what?

u pretend u don’t and just deal with it on ur own bc confessing is for PUSSIES.

like?? what if he rejected u?? y’all LIVED together- it would be so awkward.

and when he came home u pretended that u DIDN'T miss him

even when he got all up in ur grill like “did u miss me?? u lil cutie i bet u did”

yeah chris is like that

once he was comfortable with u he decided to voice the thoughts he had about u

u stumble into the kitchen after just waking up, messy hair and half-closed eyes?

“UR SO CUTE WOW!!!”

u come home from class super pissed off and pouty?

“HOW ARE U SO ADORABLE??”

well….not all of his thoughts.

he didn’t tell you that he thought about you before going to sleep.

he didn’t tell you that every night, he debated getting up and going to your room, which was just across the hall, and climbing into your bed and cuddling you to death.

he didn’t tell you that every time you were stressing about taking a test or turning in an essay, he just wanted to kiss you and make all your stress disappear.

so basically, he was #whipped

ugh, mutual pining, we love that!

so who does he tell?

no one, dummy

he tells his lyric book!

look at u, getting songs written about u and shit

but one day, jisung found said lyric book.

“oooooh!!!!! who is the target of our channie’s affections??” he had squealed, quickly reading over chris’s scribbled text.

“JISUNG YOU WHORE GIVE IT BACK.”

but jisung - that whore - wasn’t very good at listening. he started rapping what chan had written, even though they were just lyrics without a melody.

“NO you BUFFOON you’re not supposed to RAP it’s a pretty ACOUSTIC song don’t you listen to ed sheeran >:(“

“haha she ran.”

“you fool.”

after minutes of struggling, chris YANKED his lyric book back from the buffoon, shoving it deep into his backpack.

“well you write lyrics about your boyfriend so what’s so weird about THIS?”

“we know who jisung’s boyfriend is but we don’t know who you’re writing about.” changbin stated, not even looking up from his phone.

“it’s uh...my roommate-”

“how cliche-”

“jisung you literally bumped into your boyfriend in the hallway and spilled your coffee on him. you’re the king of cliches. let the man speak.”

ok

changbin snapped?

“um yeah it’s my roommate. y/n. they’re just….i dunno….really cool and nice and cute and...make me feel things i haven’t felt before yeah.”

jisung and changbin shared a look.

“like? butterflies in your stomach and your head’s in the clouds and you feel on top of the world when you’re with them?”

“yeah? and what about it?”

another look.

“interesting.”

jisung quickly delivered this information to his boyfriend, hyunjin.

who just so happened!

to be your ex-roommate.

so he, of course, told you.

“you’re kidding, right?” you asked, not even looking at your laptop screen where hyunjin’s goofy smile was.

“no! jisung had a hard time getting it all out, chris was being so romantic. he couldn’t look me in the eyes for like 20 minutes after.” hyunjin was looking down at his cuticles, his feet propped up on his desk.

since he moved out, this is how you guys talked the most

go over to his new place? no thanks!

jisung was a cool guy but .. he was a slob and you didn’t want to be around that energy

“so. he likes me back.”

“yes- WAIT BACK??? Y/N Y/LN YOU NEVER TOLD ME THIS? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BACK-”

“sorry jinnie i think the door’s about to open. you should probably sort out that weird no eye contact thing with jisung haha love you bye!” you quickly ended the call, breathing out a sigh of relief.

the door opening was just an excuse, but then the front door opened.

(soulmate culture! thanks)

you popped your head out from around a corner, sending a smile to your roommate.

“hello, love of my life.”

“hello, Christopher.”

“ouch?”

you giggled, “i’m just kidding,” you moved from your spot and plopped down on the couch next to chris, moving your body so you were facing the broccoli-haired boy.

“sooooo…..any interesting conversations today?”

real smooth, y/n. real smooth.

“excuse me?”

“you know...any conversations about roommates that make your heart do flippy things?”

“i’m going to kill jisung.”

“please don’t. if it wasn’t for his big mouth, i might’ve never had the confidence to do this.”

“what is ‘th-’” but he was cut off

by your lips

on his

fun, right?

your hand was so soft on his cheek

and your lips were soft too

he was kind of going insane

this was pure bliss for him

but hey, people gotta breathe

and you, the non-rapper, had to pull away first

you smiled at him, and he was reminded of your first meeting

you were flushed again, and your smile was still so gentle

his heart was pounding, and he didn’t know if it would ever stop

so after giving you a few seconds to breathe, he pulled you in again

he had an inkling he would never get tired of the feeling

everything about you was so soft, so delicate

he handled you like glass

chris was always meticulous, and it was obvious in the way he kissed you.

this time, he pulled away, only to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“so uhhh...do i like called you my boyfriend now or?”

he laughed. it was the most beautiful sound.

“yeah, i would like that a lot.”

that night, chris followed you into your bed.

and he held you and let the steady pounding of his heart lull you to sleep.

and he fell asleep to the sound of your breathing.

and the next morning, he was the first to wake.

but he used those few minutes before you woke up to just admire you.

when you woke up, he just smiled down at you, “hey.”

your sleepy smile was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

“hey, boyfriend.”

[imightbeapotatobutihavestandards]

Sander Sides Cooking Show AU-Mini Fanfic

So a couple people asked for this, so I tried my best. This is one other challenges, so they have to make food to fit the brief and the aim is to win People’s Choice by getting the most votes. It literally has nothing to do with the show at this point, it’s just me being shippy and loving the dynamics of their relationships. It’s logicality vs prinxiety, but I have another one written which is better (bc this is low-key awful) but I haven’t typed it up yet. Anyway, enjoy!

Challenge

The judges revealed their challenge; the teams would be cooking for a sea of hungry people in a matter of hours, and they had to prepare food fit for an amusement park. This means easy to eat on the go, light, and delicious. The teams already had in mind exactly what they wanted to do, and when the time started, they immediately sprinted to their stations and got to work.

***

“What are you boys cooking today?” Emma called from her work station, directly next to Roman and Virgil.

“We’re making breaded meatballs and a sauce to go with it, what about you lovely ladies?” Roman flashed a charming grin at the pair.

“We’re going to be making popcorn chicken, because who doesn’t love that?”

“Very true. I wish you both the best of luck.” He finished kindly.

“You too Roman.” They both replied in unison, voices a bit higher, a bit sweeter.

“I’m here too, y’know?” Virgil grumbled to himself, sprinkling seasoning over the protein before him. “No one cares about that, do they?”

“I care!” Roman chirped up from behind him.

“Shut up, you don’t count.”

“How dare, I refuse to be treated like this, all I was doing was trying to be kind, but no, my efforts are wasted on you!” Roman dramatically posed, making his voice sound slightly higher and more eloquent.

“Roman, no, you are not doing this one minute into the challenge.” Virgil sighed, already exasperated at his partner.

“Doing what? Hmm? What’s your issue, Jason Toddler? Do you-”

“I WILL HIT YOU WITH A FRYING PAN!”

***

“So, we’re going to do a banana spring role, with fresh fruit and white chocolate custard on the side!” Patton beamed at the camera, already busy rolling out the pastry, clearly in his element. “Logan, how’re you doing?” He called sweetly over his shoulder.

“Adequate.” The taller replied dryly. He wasn’t being hostile, just efficient, there was no need for a long response that could threaten his focus on the task at hand.

“That’s good, we can’t have anything going wrong, this is a bake or break situation.” Patton smiled proudly at his own joke, his focus entirely on the pasty and not even turning to see Logan stop what he was doing to glare t him. He could already feel those sharp eyes on him, could see the familiar expression on his face. He giggled to himself.

After a slight pause, Logan returned to the custard knowing that, despite the pun, Patton was right, it was crucial everything they did was perfect. He heard Patton move around behind him, he was impressed that his partner was already moving onto the bananas. Logan continued to concentrate entirely on what he was making, recalling the instructions with perfect clarity and following them with exact precision. There was no room for error.

“Hey Logan…” Patton spoke up, causing the other to turn towards him. The smaller man was holding the large silver bowl of crushed bananas under one arm, his other arm held up proudly, a banana in hand. “I’m bananas for you.”

Logan froze, staring at him with cold, emotionless eyes. “I despise everything about you.”

“Aw, Lo, that really hurt my peelings.” Even Parron cringed inwardly at that one, not his best.

“Please, I will actually pay you to stop.” Logan begged, dislodging his glasses as he pressed his palms to his eyes.

“Well, at least you’re on the ripe track in terms of attitude. But you’ve gotta stop slacking Lo, we need time to make sure this dish looks a-peeling.”

Logan couldn’t even find the right words, he just stared, trying to hold back a scream in frustration, for his dignity’s sake.

***

“SHIT! RO!” Virgil shouted, jumping backwards as something next to his partner set fire, how did Roman have a talent for doing this? Despite the unfortunate frequent-ness of this occurrence, it did not ease Virgil’s pounding heart and rushing mind. This was too much, what the fuck was Roman doing? What was happening at his point? Who honestly knows what’s going on? Because Virgil sure as hell doesn’t.

Roman instantaneously grabbed a towel, ran it under the tap, then threw it in the general direction of the flames, all within a second. Virgil was sure it had become so second nature to him by this point, that he could just sense exactly where the fire was.

“Virgil, are you alright?”

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! HOW THE HELL DO YOU DO THIS?!” Virgil yelled, his heart still crashing against his rib cage and fear coursing through his veins.

“I’m just talented like that, Hot Topic.” Roman smiled warmly, trying to convince Virgil’s frantic heart that everything was, indeed, okay. Virgil let out a heavy breath, allowing himself to relax slightly and stop snapping at Roman, however a voice cut through his relief, immediately making him tense.

“Looks like it’s getting hot over there boys.” Tay, Emma’s teammate, called from her station.

“Roman, maybe you should take your shirt off.” Emma added, her flirting was obviously all in good fun and entirely harmless, but Virgil couldn’t control the way his blood boiled, or prevent that little growl that escaped him.

Roman’s mouth dropped open a little, one side of his lips pulling up into a smirk. He went to reply, but Virgil caught him before he could open his mouth. He pulled him down by his collar, forcing him to meet his eyes, foreheads nearly touching.

“Shut up. Keep cooking.” Virgil ordered, pushing him backwards and turning to his prep again.

***

“PATTON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Logan panicked as he noticed his partner changing the recipe.

“Just adding a bit more of-“

“-But that’s not what-“

“-Shh shh shhhh.” Patton cooed, walking over to Logan and cupping his face with his hands. “Hush now.”

“This is highly unprofessional, I would be grateful if you were to desist from this… immediately.” Logan was ignored.

“Now Logan, I know you hate going against what the recipe says, but my taste buds are disagreeing with the recipe, and my taste buds know their stuff! Come on, when have they ever been wrong before?”

Logan mumbled something incoherent.

“That’s the spirit!” His partner beamed. “Now, continue what you’re doing while I worry about improving the recipe.” He finished, placing a light kiss to Logan’s lips before removing his hands and chirpily turning around.

Logan rolled his eyes, allowing a begrudging smile as he turned back around again, or at least, went to turn around. Before he could turn fully, he noticed Patton’s movements; swaying on his feet, shifting his weight breezily, without a care in the world. He was dancing. Of course he was. In fact, Logan could just about catch the sweet, beautiful humming above the clatter of those around them. Patton really was adorable, never did Logan think someone could be so kind or innocent, it seemed like such an impossibility, yet here he stood, humming and baking and dancing. He let out sigh. Logan wasn’t one for emotions, but Patton seemed to bring them out of nowhere.

He turned back to his station, listening intently to Patton’s humming, clinging to the sound. Above everything else, he could hear the soft, almost murmur, of humming behind him. Content, peaceful and in his element finally… until a voice cut through his tranquillity.

“SHIT! RO!”

“I believe Roman’s burnt something, hurt himself or set something on fire.” Logan notified his partner, who giggled slightly then stood on the tip of his toes, looking over the crowd for their friends.

“I think it was a mini fire.” Patton conclude, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! HOW THE HELL DO YOU DO THIS?!”

“I agree, most likely a fire.”

***

“Look at the people!” Roman declared, looking at the flood of people waiting to come in the amusement park. They’d finally arrived, just to put everyone on edge and glare at everything judgmentally. Roman had already caught a couple people’s eye, Virgil noticed as  group of young women began huddling together, casting fond gazes at his partner.

It’s okay Virgil, just means they’re more likely to come over here and buy our food. It’s fine.

Roman’s head perked up from plating for a second, noticing the group of women, he flashed them his signature smile. They giggled, of course, because basic.

Virgil was done with this, done with everyone, He walked over to Roman, placing a hand on his back, silently telling him to turn around.

“I think we’re ready Surely Temple. Everything’s plated and looks good, are you happy w-“

“That’s nice.” Virgil cut him off, wrapping his arms around his neck, Roman chuckled upon realising why his partner was suddenly so clingy, happily relishing in the opportunity to wrap his own arms around Virgil’s waist, bringing them close together.

“Stop smiling at the hyenas Ro, they might try and eat you.” Virgil murmured far too sweetly.

Roman couldn’t decide if jealous Virgil was cute or hot. Probably both…definitely both.

Suddenly, the judges’ voices boomed over the chaos, announcing the end of prep time and released the crowd. It was a tsunami of people, everywhere they began emerging, hungry and prowling.

Virgil spun round quickly, gathering the little boxes they’d created and proudly displaying them at the front of the stall, then turned to start making more batches and leaving Roman to deal with the people, not that he minded of course.

Roman was friendly and charming, enticing people to their stand was the perfect role for him, and quietly preparing extra food when it’s not needed that moment was perfect for Virgil. They worked well together.

So many people were interested in the breaded meatballs, and flocked to the stall, even the group of women from earlier, despite Virgil clearly claiming Roman. At one point a mother with a small girl came up to the stand, she held a small foam sword in one hand, holding it proudly above her head.

“Good heavens, are you a knight?” Roman gasped at the girl.

“Yes!” She grinned at being addressed with her proper title, then her smile dropped, eyes falling to the floor, as it scolded. “But my friend says I can’t be the knight. He says I have to be the princess.” She said sadly.

“Well he must surely be wrong, I have never met a knight as valiant as you in my life! And, being a prince, I’ve met many knights.” Roman replied, handing the mother their food, she smiled warmly at him.

“You’re a prince?!” The girl smiled brightly.

“Prince Roman, at your service.” He gave a dramatic bow, Virgil, watching in the background, rolled his eyes but smiled fondly still. “You must tell your friend that you can be a knight, if you so wish. You can be whatever you want. So can he. But, he must also accept who you, as the knight you truly are.”

“I will!” She replied excitedly, jumping slightly. The mother smiled at Roman again before her face got lost in the crowd, getting replaced by another.

“Hey, Princey, keep serving.” Virgil called from behind him, an endeared smile still firmly plastered to his face.

***

Finally, the last customer was served, the crowd had dispersed, it was over, and Patton’s heart felt light. He‘d heard so much positive feedback, and they’d been swamped with people through the whole service. He cheered, immediately wrapping Logan in a hug, rocking them back and forth slowly on their feet. He was really proud of their creation, he just hoped everyone else liked it as much as he did.

Logan gave up fighting the smile on his lips as he hugged Patton back, finally feeling everything grow still and calm, despite their swaying. His mind finally stopped racing with possibilities and questions as he just let himself be hugged. The warmth that flooded through him was welcoming and reassuring, he felt finally secure, but also so alive? The juxtaposition was odd but not unpleasant, it was funny how only a hug could make his emotions run riot. As previously mentioned, Logan doesn’t do feelings, but this, this was different, this was good.

***

Meanwhile, as soon as service was officially over, Virgil had been swept off his feet, literally. Roman had grabbed him  by his waist and lifted him off the floor, twirling them elegantly, like a Disney film. Virgil chuckled a little, placing his arms on Roman’s shoulders and just letting the dork have his fun. He was carefully placed back on the floor, but the grip on his waist didn’t loosen.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Uh, how dare you? I am a prince, I don’t des-“ Roman went to move away and continue his dramatic speech about the hardships he faced, but Virgil cut him off by pulling him closer and pressing their lips together.

“Roman,” He breathed out as they pulled a part. “Stop being a diva and just let me insult you.”

Roman laughed loudly, squeezing his eyes together and tilting his head up. “Whatever you say JDelightful.” He replied, leaning in again.

Sorry for my crappy writing, I tried. Also I’m sorry if it was a bit too shippy for some people, but I couldn’t stop myself. There will be another one that is hopefully better and a bit longer posted soon as well!

People who wanted this:

@violetmcl

@sleepyssnail

@toolazytothinkofcreativename

@iris-sanders-athena

[thelastspeecher]

Phoenix au, coffee shop, it turns out that Phoenix flames add an interesting flavour to whatever they cook, so Ford and Fiddleford decide to open a coffee shop to help pay for things.

☕️ - coffee shop

So, a couple things about the ficlet I wrote for this prompt.  First, I went overboard.  It’s 1.7k words long.  It took me a while to build things up to the actual prompt, bc I kept getting lost in the part of the Phoenix Enchantment AU that I haven’t written as much exploring, the domesticity of the phoenixes and Ford and Fidds and Tate all living together.  Second, this ended up being more of a prequel to your actual suggestion?  Sorry, there’s no actual coffee shop, but coffee is talked about a lot, so there’s that.  I wanted to build up to the discovery of phoenix-roasted coffee beans being great.  Those things aside, I hope you enjoy it!

Send in an emoji and I’ll write a ficlet!

              “I’m done makin’pancakes!” Fiddleford shouted.  There wasan inquisitive squawk from somewhere else inside the house.  “Yes, the eggs have been put away.”  A bunch of birds immediately flew into thekitchen.  “Good mornin’, fam’ly.”  Lute landed on the kitchen counter and hummedat Fiddleford.  Fiddleford scratched thetop of Lute’s head as he counted the number of phoenixes now on varioussurfaces.  “Let’s see…where’sEmmett?  He usually-”

              “Mornin’, UncleFidds!” a voice said cheerfully from behind Fiddleford.  Fiddleford spun around.  His nephew Emmett was in the entryway of the kitchen,wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt with a dinosaur on it.  Emmett let out a wheeze.  

              “You all rightthere, Emmett?” Fiddleford asked, walking over to his asthmatic nephew.  Emmett wheezed again.  Lute squawked in distress and flew away,presumably to fetch Stan or Angie.

              “I wanted to do thehuman thing again,” Emmett mumbled. “Since Tate’s gone at school.  Ilike the fingers ‘n toes.”

              “Ya have to becareful when ya turn human,” Fiddleford said gently.  “It’s stressful fer ya.”  Footsteps thundered downstairs.  In human form, Stan rushed into the kitchen,Lute on his shoulder.  He dropped to hisknees in front of his son.

              “Here ya go,” Stansaid, handing Emmett an orange inhaler. He, Fiddleford, and Lute watched Emmett take a few puffs.  “Better?” Stan asked quietly.  Emmett nodded.  Stan let out a sigh of relief.  “Sport, remember what yer ma and I tell ya.  Don’t go downstairs as a human.  Not yet. It’s too much of a strain on ya.”

              “It’s not a strainon anyone else,” Emmett said.

              “Yer just a bitdifferent,” Stan said, standing up. Emmett leaned against Stan’s legs.

              “I don’t like it.”

              “I know, kiddo.”  Stan stroked Emmett’s brown curls.  “Ya got dealt a bad hand, and all ya can dowith it is yer best.”  Emmett noddedsilently.  Stan glanced over at thekitchen table, where Danny and Daisy were inspecting a bowl of fruit.  “Girls, I thought you were gonna do the humanthing today.”  Daisy cawed at him.

              “That’s nice,Daisy,” Emmett said.

              “What’s goin’ on?”Fiddleford asked.  Lute took off fromStan’s shoulder and landed on the table with his nieces.

              “Danny and Daisy arestayin’ bird so that Lute doesn’t feel left out.  He’s still in the ‘can only turn human duringthe full moon’ phase,” Stan answered. Fiddleford smiled.

              “Aw, that’s sweet,”Fiddleford said.  Stan pulled a chair outfrom the table.  “Uh, Stan, no sittin’ ifyer not wearin’ pants.”

              “Right,” Stan saidafter a moment.  “I’ll go do that.”  He ruffled Emmett’s hair before exiting thekitchen.  Fiddleford began to clean upthe mess from making breakfast earlier. Lute, Danny, and Daisy chirped at each other cheerfully as they grabbedtheir fruit of choice from the bowl on the table.  

              “Good morning,Fiddleford,” Ford said, entering the kitchen. The phoenixes at the table crowed at him.  “Yes, good morning to you all as well.  Where’s the coffee?”

              “In the cupboard,”Fiddleford answered.  There was astuttering hiss from the table, something he recognized as laughter.  He frowned at the table.  “What’s so funny?”  Lute crowed in a self-assured manner.  “Emmett, what’d he say?”

              “‘You’ll see’,”Emmett dutifully translated.

              “That’s ominous,”Ford muttered.  “You all right,Emmett?  Your voice is a bit breathierthan usual.”

              “Had some troubles‘cause I went down the stairs after turnin’ human,” Emmett said, taking a seatat the kitchen table.  Lute hummed athim.  Emmett hummed back and stroked Luteidly.  “Could one of ya make me somebreakfast, please?”

              “Of course,” Fordsaid.

              “I can handle it,”Fiddleford said.

              “Nonsense, Emmett’smy godson.  I’ll get him hisbreakfast.  What do you want?” Fordasked.

              “Cereal ‘n milk,please.”

              “A man of simpletastes,” Ford said, flashing a grin at Emmett. “Which milk substitute do you want today?”  Lute squawked.

              “Don’t listen toUncle Lute,” Emmett said.  “I’d likealmond milk.”

              “What did he say?”Fiddleford asked.  He opened the cupboardand grabbed the bag of coffee beans.

              “Coconut.  I don’t like coconut.”

              “Ah,” Ford said witha nod.  Fiddleford frowned at the coffeebeans.

              “Stanford…”

              “Yes?”

              “I thought we boughtthe non-roasted beans this time.”

              “We did.”

              “These are obviouslyroasted.”

              “That can’t beright.”  Ford walked over to Fiddlefordand peered over his shoulder.  “Idistinctly remember going out of my way to find the non-roasted beans.  What happened?”

              “What’s goin’ on?” avoice asked.  Ford and Fiddleford lookedover.  Angie had arrived in the kitchen,carrying her youngest child, one-year-old Emory.

              “Nothin’ big,”Fiddleford said.  “Just a minor mysteryis all.  Ford bought non-roasted coffeebeans, but these have been roasted.”

              “Oh, Lute and Standid that,” Angie said, taking a seat at the table next to Emmett.  She kissed the top of Emmett’s head.  “Yer breathin’ all right, honey?” she asked.

              “I’m fine, Ma,”Emmett protested.  “Stop fussin’.”

              “Ya got pneumoniawhen ya were just a couple days old, Emmett. I can’t help myself but worry ‘bout ya.”

              “Bah!” Emory saidenthusiastically, grabbing at Emmett’s nose. Emmett frowned at his younger sibling.

              “Quit it, squirt,”Emmett said.

              “Be nice to yerbrother,” Angie scolded.

              “Angie, what didLute and Stan do?” Fiddleford asked. Angie looked up at him.

              “Hmm?”

              “You said that Luteand Stan have something to do with why the non-roasted coffee is roasted,” Fordsaid.  

              “Oh, right.  Sorry, I got distracted.  I got too many children, ‘n they all needattention.”

              “Then ya shouldajust stopped with me,” Emmett muttered.

              “Emmett StanfordMcGucket,” Angie said in a warning tone. Emmett crossed his arms and looked away. Angie sighed tiredly.  “Back tothe issue of the coffee.  Lute ‘n Stanthink ya drink too much coffee, Ford.  Sothey tried to get rid of it.”

              “How?” Ford asked.

              “Settin’ it on fire.  But it didn’t work.  They just ended up roastin’ the beans.”  Angie frowned at Lute, who was preening himselfnonchalantly.  “I think they’re hopin’that the beans ‘re burnt or gross or somethin’. ‘Cause they seem awful proud of themselves.”

              “Who’s proud?” Stanasked, walking into the kitchen, now fully clothed.  

              “You and Lute,” Fordsaid.  Stan raised an eyebrow at him.  “Of attempting to ruin the coffee.”

              “Nah, I don’t thinkit was an attempt,” Stan said.  He openedthe fridge and took out the coconut milk. “I think it was a success.”

              “Only one way tofind out,” Ford said.

              “You really want to usethe coffee beans that our siblin’s used their weird fire magic on?” Fiddlefordasked.  

              “We don’t have anyother coffee beans anywhere in the house.”

              “Fine.”  Fiddleford dumped some of the beans into thegrinder.  He took an experimental whiffof the resulting powder.  “Hmm, it don’tsmell burnt.  Smells pretty nice.  Almost spicy.”  Fiddleford shrugged, then dumped the beansinto the coffee maker.  Stan sat at thekitchen table with his glass of milk and nudged Danny away from the bowl offruit so that he could grab a banana.  Lutecawed at him.

              “Nuh-uh.  If it didn’t work, I’m blamin’ it on you,”Stan said.  Lute ruffled hisfeathers.  “I know how to use the phoenixmagic, and yer barely gettin’ started with it.” Lute let out a small hiss.  “Language.”

              “Gnah!” Emoryshouted excitedly, slamming his pudgy fists on the table.  Angie and Stan chortled.

              “I think someonewants some breakfast,” Angie cooed.  Shegave Emory a peck on the cheek.  Fordhanded Emmett a bowl of cereal.

              “Thank you, UncleFord,” Emmett said politely.  Emorygrabbed the spoon out of Emmett’s bowl.  “Hey!”

              “Da!” Emory yelled.  Emmett glared at his sibling.

              “Shut up, Emory.”

              “Emmett, don’t talkto your brother like that,” Stan snapped. “He’s just a baby.  Be patient.”  Lute burbled something quietly.  Emmett’s jaw dropped.

              “I am not!”

              “What’d he say?”Fiddleford asked.  

              “Uncle Lute says I’mjealous of Emory bein’ the baby now.  ButI’m not!”

              “Lord,” Angiemumbled.  She sniffed the air.  “Is the coffee ready?”

              “Yes,” Ford said,already pouring himself a mug.  “Do youwant some?”

              “I do very much wantsome, but last time I had coffee, it was at undergrad, and I nearly set the labon fire from bein’ so jittery,” Angie said, bouncing Emory on her knee in anattempt to calm him down.  “‘N that waswithout fire magic.”  Daisy trilledloudly.  “No, honey, settin’ buildin’s onfire on purpose is arson, ‘n against the law.”

              “I’ll take a cup,”Stan said.  Lute squawked at him.  “Oh, yeah. Never mind.”

              “You sure, Stan?” Fordasked.  He joined the flock at thetable.  “This is excellent.”  Stan stared at him.

              “You’re joking.”

              “I’m not.  This is the best coffee I’ve ever had.  Whatever you and Lute did, it made the beansphenomenal.”  Ford took another sip ofhis drink.  “In fact, we could sell it.”

              “…What?”

              “I agree with Stan,”Fiddleford said.  “What are ya talkin’ about?”

              “Well, the aviaryhas been cutting into our expenses more lately, with Tate and Molly at college,and Lute and Emory joining the flock,” Ford said.  “Having an additional source of income,however small, would help a lot.”

              “So ya want to sellroasted coffee beans?” Angie asked.

              “Phoenix-roasted,”Ford corrected.  “It would be a smalloperation, and I doubt we could make much profit.  But enough to upgrade some of the equipmentin the aviary or pay for travel expenses at scientific conferences.”  He nodded at Stan and Lute.  “And I know that you two have been wanting tocontribute more to the household finances. We’d kill two birds with one stone.” Danny squawked loudly.  “That wasa poor choice of metaphors.  It’s awin-win.”

              “It’s yer decision,darlin’,” Angie said quietly to Stan. Stan let out a sigh.

              “I wish that thesabotage had worked.  But yeah, Lute andI ‘ll do what we can to help you nerds keep a roof over our heads.”

              “Or,” Emmettinterjected, “y’all could sell cricket cookies! Those ‘re better than coffee.”

              “I think most humanswould disagree,” Ford said.  “But that’s somethingwe can keep in the back of our minds as an additional option.”

              “Magic-roastedcoffee and cricket cookies,” Fiddleford said, shaking his head.  “Not exactly what I expected when we firstmoved to Gravity Falls.”

[daddymenrah]

Open To Interpretation: Negan x Reader

Masterlist 

Warnings: Inappropriate teacher/student relationship (student is of legal age in the US and UK), smut, the usual. Also, I wrote the character a little more like myself bc I feel like I keep writing the same kind of reader and its getting tedious. Hit my inbox if this is you af. ALSO HIT MY INBOX IF YOU’VE EVER HAD ANY KIND OF TEACHER/STUDENT RELATIONSHIP? SPILL THE TEA I’M NOSY.

Word count: 4448  

“Preserving innocent life, orderly living in society, worshipping god, educating children, and reproducing.” His deep, gravelly voice fills the lecture hall. All his students are enraptured, a rare thing for many teachers. He pauses before continuing. “What are the issues with these precepts that Aquinas put forward?”

 You bite your lip anxiously. Answering questions in class isn’t an issue for you, in fact your teachers often tell you to give the other students a chance, but your Philosophy and Ethics professor makes you somewhat nervous. Tall, late forties, gorgeous black beard with silver streaks and piercing hazel eyes. The recipe for a crippling medley of anxiety and attraction.

 Despite this, impressing him and getting your grade is often the reason you manage to pluck up the courage to respond to his queries, his opinion of you is something you are very conscious of. You glance around the room to see no one has raised their hand. You decide to take one for the team, slowly lifting your arm from the desk.

Professor Negan’s head turns in your direction, a somewhat predatory grin spreading across his handsome features.

“Y/N. Let ‘em have it.” You try not to smile too hard at his confidence that you’ll give a good answer, but it proves to be rather difficult when he’s urging you on with one of his own infectious smiles.

 “I think a lot of issues arise with these precepts, mainly that there are too many grey areas and not everyone agrees with the idea that these should be prioritised by society as a whole.” A small smirk plays at the corners of his lips. “Not to mention everyone has different ideas as to what these precepts involve.”

 “Such as?”

“The definition of orderly living in society differs massively from person to person. For example, someone might consider a party going on past twelve as relatively orderly, but their neighbours might disagree.” Professor Negan along with the rest of the lecture hall chuckle at your scenario.

 After spurring the sharing of ideas and opinions, the rest of your classmates were more agreeable to putting their own out there. The opinions differed massively, and Negan appeared to be having fun listening to everyone debate heatedly. The class was so animated, that it almost drew into lunch break.

 “Alright fuckers, I think you’ve assaulted my ears enough today. Go do whatever it is the youth of today does on their break.” He shooed all of you out of the room, but just as you were leaving he caught your arm. “Hold up a sec, Y/N.”

 Most people who come into some form of contact with you on a daily basis know not to touch you without being on a certain level of closeness with you, but professor Negan is an exception to this rule. You really couldn’t care less that you don’t know all that much about him other than his name, penchant for cursing, and views on the subjects he taught, his touch sets your entire being on fire.

 Once the class is empty, he backs up against the front of his desk, resting his backside on the edge and his hands either side of him for support.

“I marked last weeks essays…” He begins.

“You realise you set those two weeks ago.” You correct him. His eyes widen slightly, and then he sighs.

 “Shit, whatever. Anyway, I marked those. What I wanted to tell ya was that yours was ridiculous.” Your heart drops in embarrassment, and it must have shown on your expression. Professor Negan chuckles. “Don’t cry kid, I meant ridiculous as in ridiculously fuckin’ good. You thinkin’ of doing a masters by any chance?”

 You sigh in relief.

“I haven’t given my masters much thought.” You admit. He nods in acknowledgment.

“Well, when you get round to it, I’d consider this. That’s if ya haven’t got another master in mind.” He winks, your jaw almost falls right open at what he’d just insinuated. Surely he couldn’t have meant that?

 He slips his glasses off and wipes the lenses with the hem of his t-shirt, then nudges them back onto his gorgeous face. You can never decide whether you like him better with or without specs. Not that it matters, since you’d screw him either way.

“Have I got somethin’ on my face?” He teases, eyebrow cocked.

 “Other than your glasses?” You say, praising yourself internally for coming up with a witty response. He chuckles deeply and waggles his insanely long index finger at you.

“You better watch I don’t give ya a detention for sassin’ me.”

‘Yeah cuz, that’d be a real punishment.’ You think, biting back a smirk.

 “Woah, what?” Professor Negan’s expression is shocked, but his lips are quirking at the edges as if trying to hold in a smile.

“Hm?” You reply.

“Did you just flirt with me, Y/L/N?” And then you realise, with dismay, that your thought had subconsciously vocalised. Your cheeks warm but you roll your eyes playfully in an attempt to hide your embarrassment with nonchalance.

 “Interpret it how you want.” You shrug, then adjust your bag on your shoulder and make a move to leave the hall.

“Well shit, I ain’t complainin’.” You hear him mutter, and you turn right back around. Professor Negan has his arms folded and a mischievous smirk sitting shamelessly his features.

 “Don’t look so fuckin’ shocked. You’re an attractive girl.” He laughs.

“And also one of your students?” You retort, still in disbelief that he was being so blatantly inappropriate with you. However, it wasn’t an unpleasant disbelief.

“You’re of legal age. You can do what you want.” You like how he phrased that.

 “I’m pretty sure there are still rules regardless of age.” You reply, Negan simply shrugs.

“I once knew this smart chick who said, ah what was it… Interpret it how you want?” At this point your stomach is doing multiple flips and there’s a giant smile threatening to break out on your face.

 You’ve fantasised about how this might come to happen, but it’s so different now that it really is. There’s thinking about it while in bed at night, touching yourself to the thought of Negan’s voice saying your name, and then there’s standing right in front of the real thing as he propositions you.

 He pushes off the desk and takes a few steps towards you.

“You’re a big girl, you know what it is you want.” He murmurs, lifting your chin with his thumb and forefinger so that you’re forced to look him in the eye. “And you know how to get it.” His lips are tantalisingly close to yours, but he doesn’t move any further. “I have an evening class that finishes at six. Do with that information what you wish.”

 *

 You left Negan’s classroom feeling choked up with a mixture of shock and excitement. You wanted to tell someone, anyone, especially your best friend who you knew was on her lunch break too. But you restrained yourself. You trusted her of course, but you didn’t want to tell her only for nothing to come of it. You had to make a decision first.

 It was your last lecture of the day so you left the building and made your way to your car. Setting your things down on the passenger seat, you started the ignition and began the drive back to your apartment you shared with the aforementioned friend. You tried to distract yourself from the decision you had to make by listening to some of your favourite songs.

 Much to your dismay, virtually every song had some kind of reference to a significant other or a love interest, and you found your mind flashing back to Negan each time. You knew the excited sickness in your stomach wasn’t going to go away unless you declined professor Negan’s proposition, or you went and found out what was in store.

 Honestly, you desperately wanted to agree. There was a very clichéd, romance, drama movie type feel to your situation. You felt as though you were the troubled heroine of the film, walking the fence between right and wrong, following the rules and following your desires. You shook your head at your own melodramatic musings and focussed on finding a parking space.

 Once you’d parked up, you grabbed your stuff and hurried through the apartment building lobby, and into the lift. You tapped your foot impatiently as it took you to your floor. You were restless, there was a sense of time running out. Whether you went or not, you still had to make a decision, the sooner the better.

 As you rushed out of the elevator at your floor and powerwalked to the door of your apartment, you continued to ponder this. A quick glance at your phone in your hand told you it was already one o’clock. You had about three hours to make a decision that would allow you to get ready and arrive at six. You nearly smacked yourself in the forehead, the way you were thinking was already in agreement to the idea of actually going.

 You dropped your bag down by the door and shoved your sneakers off. You went to make yourself a drink before settling down on the couch and thinking the whole predicament through properly.

 What exactly would meeting with professor Negan alone entail? ‘Oh come on’ You think to yourself. You know damned well what it’ll entail. Well, to an extent. The man exuded sexual confidence. The way he’d swagger back and forth while explaining something, or when he’d stagger crotch-first when something made him laugh.

 Maybe you were just dirty-minded and presumptuous, but the reality was it was highly likely that if you went, you were going to have some kind of sexual encounter with your philosophy and ethics professor.

 And that excited you to no end.

 *

 It’s half past five and you’re taking a last glance at yourself in the mirror before leaving. You’ve sex-proofed your makeup, should what you think is going to happen, happens. Smoothing down your outfit, that consists of tight black jeans and a flattering blouse with just enough cleavage showing, you leave the apartment.

 The sensation that’s gripped your entire being is one of trepidation. Akin to the feeling of sneaking out for the first time, or smoking weed unbeknownst to your parents. You know you shouldn’t be doing it, and you damned well you could get in trouble for it, but you also know that it could be one of the most unforgettable experiences of your life.

 And that is what powers your legs to walk out your building and to your car, key in ignition, engine on. When you spot your college in the distance, you play that one song that makes you feel irresistible, strong, sexy. By the time you’ve found a parking spot near to the building, you feel less nervous, and more ready. The anticipation alone is turning you on.

 Professor Negan is inside finishing up a class, probably thinking about whether or not you’re going to show. You wonder which he thinks is more likely. Despite being what you like to think is subtly flirtatious in class, you doubt he thinks you really have the guts to come here after hours and potentially fuck your teacher. Do many people have that kind of rebellious streak?

 You’re walking through the doors and nodding to the receptionist, and your mind flicks back to the lesson this morning. Negan’s words replay in your mind. ‘Orderly living in society.’ This sure as fuck wasn’t considered orderly living in society. Aquinas was an idiot in your opinion if he really thought this was the way humans should live to get the most out of life.

 But as you spot Negan’s class filing out of the room, that lurching feeling in your stomach returns. You feel almost short of breath, but you surge on, weaving through the yawning students, complaining about evening classes and how they just want to get home. It’s ironic in a way, they’re all desperate to leave while you’ve been on edge virtually all day about coming back.

 You dither by the door momentarily, listening to see if there are any students left in there. You can’t hear anything, so you walk in. Negan is sitting at his desk chatting to another teacher. Your throat closes up, but you act as normal as you possibly can. You can’t let it seem like you shouldn’t be here.

“Hi professor, I’m here to grab that essay you revised for me?” You say as confidently as you can.

 Negan’s head turns to look at you, that grin, slow as molasses, spreads across his lined face. He looks you up and down before giving you a more PG smile.

“Rick, this is one of my best philosophy students. Y/N L/N.” He states, indicating to you with an open-handed gesture. The teacher smiles and nods to you.

“Hello, Y/N. I’m Professor Grimes from the law department.” He has a slow, southern drawl that could put you to sleep if you listened to it for too long.

 He isn’t too bad looking himself, about the same age as Negan, but clean shaven with sharp blue eyes. He has a no-nonsense look about him.

“Nice to meet you.” You smile back politely. He turns back to Negan.

“Well, I’ll let ya’ll get on with whatever it is you big thinkers get up to.” He jokes.

“Oh we have plenty of fun.” Negan assures him.

 You’re almost shocked by his brazenness, but it’s professor Negan. Once professor Grimes has left the classroom, Negan stands and follows the man’s path. He pulls the blind down over the small window in the door. At this point, it’s beginning to feel very, very real. Once he’s facing you again, he groans, letting his eyes wander slowly from your face right down to your jeans that are clinging to every curve of your legs.

 “The hell are you tryna do to me?” He mutters, prowling towards you like a lion to its prey. Standing only several inches away from you, he inhales sharply. “Can I touch you?” You nod a little too eagerly, and he chuckles darkly. “Oh sweetheart, I can tell you’ve been achin’ at the thought of this all day.” Your cheeks warm substantially, and his large hands go to rest on your hips. He squeezes them just a little, a sound coming from his throat that sounds almost like a purr.

 “I’ve been wantin’ to touch you for so long. You’re a fuckin’ tease, Y/N.”

“I am not.” You reply indignantly. Negan laughs loudly.

“Alright then, you’re a fuckin’ liar too. Leanin’ over the desk just so in your low cut shirts, suckin’ on the tip of your pen, droppin’ your papers right in front of me and bending down to pick ‘em up. I got the hint, sweetie.”

 You decide to play coy for a little longer.

“The hint of what?” He pulls you flush against him and leans down so his lips are beside your ear.

“The hint that you want me to bend you right over this desk and fuck you so hard that you’ll never forget ol’ professor Negan.” Your jaw goes slack. “You’re the only one of my students that calls me professor. I think you know that it gets my dick real hard.”

 His potty mouth has always made you warm between the legs, but now you can quite literally feel yourself soaking through your underwear. Normally you’re relatively confident in sexual encounters, but you’re utterly speechless at this moment in time.

“But you know, there’s something else I’ve always wanted to hear you call me.” Negan adds, feigning pensiveness.

 “What’s that?” You manage to ask.

“I really fuckin’ like the thought of havin’ you over my knee, callin’ me daddy while I spank that round ass of yours.” As soon as he says that, it’s all over for you. You moan involuntarily.

“Please professor Negan, spank me.” You beg, not even sure if it’s you saying these words to your teacher.

 “You better pull those tight pants down and get on my lap, baby. I think it’s about time I punished you for all this fuckin’ teasin’ you’ve made me endure.” Negan plants a quick, but hard, kiss to your lips, then goes to pull his chair out from under his desk and sits on it. You go to undo your jeans, but he stops you. “Uh uh.” He shakes his head. “Put on a fuckin’ show for daddy.”

 You turn away from him, slowly wiggling out of your jeans. Once the waistband goes below your ass, you bend right over to step out of the pant legs. The feel of Negan’s eyes on your backside has your entire body burning.

“Get over here.” He demands. You do just as he says, walking slowly towards him. “You just fuckin’ love to tease daddy don’t you? I’ll teach you a god damn lesson you’ll never forget.”

 Negan settles you over the thighs of his long, muscular legs. He tugs on your panties, you’re wearing your sexiest black pair.

“Mm, is this the kind of shit you’re wearing underneath those clothes in my class?” He hit then nail right on the head. You nod, lip drawn between your teeth in anticipation. “You bad, bad, fucking girl.”

 And without warning, he brings his palm down hard on your bare ass cheeks.

“I want you to count, baby.” He whispers.

“One.” You say, still relatively composed. He repeats the action, ever so slightly harder. “Two.” It hurts in a delicious way, but you crave something more, something harder. Before he goes to smack you again, you speak up.

“Professor Negan?” You glance up at him.

“You better have a damned good reason for interruptin’ me while I’m spanking that sweet ass of yours.” He replies, eyebrow cocked in a playful glare.

“Do you… Do you think you could use your belt?” Negan simply stares at you in disbelief. You can feel yourself turning red from embarrassment, this is not how you wanted it to go down.

 “Would you look at my dirty girl, askin’ to be spanked with my belt.” He sighs dreamily. Relief floods your body. He unbuckles his belt and slides it carefully from his trousers, not wanting to make you slide off his lap. He then proceeds to loop it around his hands, you’re breathing heavily with excitement.

 The first time the leather snaps against your skin, the sensation is new, and stings like a bitch, but in the best way possible.

“Please professor, more.” You moan, surprising yourself with how needy you sound.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a punishment but because you look so fuckin’ good right now I’ll let you off easy.” Negan chuckles.

 He does it again, and again, and again. Harder and harder each time. You bite down hard on the base of your thumb to stop yourself from crying out too loud. Just as you’re mentally preparing yourself for the next blow, a knock on the door gets both of your attention.

“Get under the fuckin’ desk!” Negan hisses, helping you under.

 You try to keep absolutely silent.

“Come on in.” You hear Negan call out. His legs are stretched out either side of you under the desk. Your eyes travel up them, until you spot an unmistakable bulge at the zipper of his pants. You hear footsteps approaching the other side of the desk and a voice you recognise from earlier. It’s professor Grimes if you’re not mistaken.

 Negan pushes himself further under the desk as he converses with Grimes. You can hear them discussing some kind of issue with covering shifts during exam season. You’re pretty crushed under the table, if you were to stretch the upper half of your body into his lap, you’d feel a little less squashed…

You shift as carefully as possible, moving forward onto your knees. You feel Negan twitch slightly at the feeling of you moving. You gently undo the button of his jeans, and unzip his pants as quietly as possible. Negan coughs to cover the sound of the metal teeth coming apart.

 “Is that your belt?” You hear professor Grimes say.

“Oh, yeah. Gotta get comfy for a long evening of marking, am I right?” Negan laughs. You wouldn’t be able to sense there was anything wrong from the tone of his voice. At least not until you pull his dick out of his pants and slip the huge appendage into your mouth.

 Negan makes a strange noise and starts choking violently.

“You okay, Negan?” You hear professor Grimes.

“Yeah, just fuckin’ peachy.” He replies, sounding somewhat strained. You would smirk if your mouth wasn’t stuffed with Negan’s cock. You begin sucking, swirling your tongue around his thick tip.

 You hear professor Grimes continue you to talk as you take Negan’s dick further into the back of your throat, when all of a sudden Negan interrupts.

“Hey man, as much as I’m enjoyin’ this fuckin’ riveting conversation, I got a lot of shit to do.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be on my way.” Professor Grimes sounds irritated, but you can make out the noises of his footsteps leading away from his desk.

 “Have a good evening, Rick!” Negan yells after him, then pulls you from out under the desk, his dick popping out of your mouth in the process. “You,” He breathes, “are gonna get me in a whole lot of fuckin’ trouble.” He yanks you up hard and bends you over the desk. He rips your panties down and shoves his jeans to the floor. “I’m gonna fuck you so fuckin’ hard you’ll never be able to look at this fuckin’ desk again without creamin’ your fuckin’ undies.”

 “Oh god, please do.” You gasp, feeling his tip tease your soaking wet pussy.

“God? Close, but sweetheart, daddy works just fine.” And with that he pushes violently inside you. He thrusts in and out of you at an unforgiving speed, groaning profanities as he goes. All you can bring yourself to do is hold on tight to the edge of the desk and moan his name.

 “You’re gonna be thinkin’ about this when you limp into class tomorrow, I can fuckin’ assure you.” He threatens. “I’m gonna tear your dripping cunt to shreds.”

“Yes please, daddy.” You cry, tears of sheer pleasure pooling in your eyes.

“And you better not try and skip because your pretty, little pussy is achin’. I’ll be givin’ you detention all week.”

 “I won’t daddy, I promise.”

“I wanna see that ass sittin’ up straight at her desk, ready to take in knowledge, then take in this dick once everyone’s gone.” “I will, daddy, I will.” You whine. His thrusts are becoming quicker, more erratic.

 “Shit, this young pussy is gonna make me cum.”

“Wait, you’re not wearing-“

“I wanna see that cunt dripping with my cum.” Negan pulls you up, off the desk and then shoves you against the whiteboard, re-entering you with no difficulty whatsoever thanks to how wet you are.

 He keeps your wrists behind your back with one of his hands and the other tight around your throat.

“Are you gonna cum all over this dick for daddy?” He growls in your ear.

“Yes, oh fuck yes.” You’re practically screaming in ecstasy.

“Cum. Cum for me right fucking now.”

 And though you never thought it possible, his words bring you right over the edge into writhing, sweating, heaven. He follows very soon after, his cock pulsing inside you, painting your walls with his thick, white cum.

“Holy fuckin’ shit.” He pants, sliding out of you. You’re frozen against the whiteboard, the very whiteboard you’ve copied notes from many times.

 You vaguely hear Negan rifling in his desk for something, then you spot him underneath you.

“Mm look at that.” He purrs. You realise with horror that he’s watching his own ejaculation drip out you, holding tissue directly beneath, ready to catch it. “That is a fuckin’ sight to see.”

 There’s not really much you can do other than wait till the majority of Negan’s cum has left your body, then pull your stretched panties up and find your jeans.

“Shit darlin’, that might just have been the best fuck I ever had.” Negan grins at you, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

 You smile awkwardly.

“I’m inclined to agree with you there.”

“Hey what happened to ‘daddy’ and ‘professor Negan’?” He teases you. He narrows his eyes at you in jest. “Ah, I see how it is. Once you get off, all that nasty shit goes away.” You’re bright red for what feels like the millionth time today. “Hey, that’s totally fuckin’ cool with me. A sweetheart in class, but a dirty whore when it comes to the ass.”

 “Please stop.” You groan. Negan laughs softly, all signs of playfulness gone from his face. He looks weirdly calm.

“You need a ride home or anything, princess?”

“I’m good, I drove.” You smile back.

“You know I was jokin’ about you not being allowed to skip right? If you’re hurtin’ I want you to stay your ass at home.”

 And just when you thought you’d been sexually sated for life, Negan’s caring side made you want to hop on his dick all over again.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, alright, strong woman. You get home and go to sleep.”

“It’s after class, don’t tell me what to do.” You joke, walking towards the door.

 “Oh yeah? Sounds like you want me to show you who’s boss again.” He calls after you.

“Interpret it how you want.” You wave, smirking to yourself and closing the classroom door behind you.

PART 2