#my professors love me what are you talking about

[venusbyline]

HEADCANON: Sugar Daddy!Aegon

— pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x sugar baby!reader

— type: smut, fluff, modern AU

— tags/warnings: female!reader, sugar daddy!Aegon, age gap (older man/younger woman), class difference, family issues, vaginal sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, doggy style position, degradation, slight dumbification, limousine sex, spanking kink, butt slapping, creampie, exhibitionism, mentioned consensual underage sex, dom!Aegon, sub!reader, CEO!Aegon, college student!reader. no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

❥ Aegon II masterlist • HOTD masterlist • ASOIAF headcanons

❥ about me • main masterlist

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who felt so lonely after taking over his father's company, even though he had a lot of money to keep supporting the luxurious life he had since his birth.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who listened to his close friends joking about this type of arrangement, and decided to try the luck on some app suitable for that.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who had no patience with most of the annoying girls on the site, who seemed more interested in just fucking with him than in his money and company. After all, even with an almost insatiable and unhealthy lust, he could fuck any girl he wanted without having to pay for them, so he put the idea aside for a while when he noticed so many messages there didn't correspond to what he was really looking for.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who was surprised seeing the description on your profile saying that you weren't interested in casual sex or sending nudes, and threatening to block anyone who pissed off you with harassment. Then he immediately texted you.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who became attached to your talks after the first moment. He listened to your story, listened to your limits and what you wanted in that arrangement, and that same night sent you a great amount of money as a "free sample" of what was coming.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who always likes to spoil you even more than what was agreed in the contract. It doesn't matter how many thousand dollars he sends you monthly or the credit cards he gave you. Did you simply texted saying that you saw a picture of a new Tiffany & Co bracelet? He'll buy it to you. Did Aegon smell a good Cartier fragrance on a secretary of his company? He'll immediately buy and send it to your home as a surprise, only to listened to your many audio messages thanking him for the "unexpected" gift.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who loves receiving your photos and videos wearing everything he bought you or showing how you're using the money. He doesn't really know how to react to your thanks, but you know he's happy when he sends you a cute emoji that's probably only used by older men. Noticing the age difference between you always makes both of you smile.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who loves to listen to you talk about your college matters, how your professors are being unfair or how some of your friends are annoying you. He even offers you a job at his company and you just chuckle, thinking he's joking. But he's never joking about that.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who sometimes manages to open up to you, exposing the issues he's facing running the company. How his father's death caused chaos in his family, breaking bonds. How he's sure that his half-sister is planning to take legal actions, how he believes that their father's will, in which she was left with just a small part of the inheritance, was forged or manipulated while Viserys was still alive, but ill. Sometimes Aegon also talks about his issues with his mother and grandfather, who thinks he's a terrible businessman and will sink the entire Hightowers empire in the not-so-distant future. You always understand Aegon and give him good advices, so he feels like he can open up to you more than anyone else in his life.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who only took three months to give in to his desire to see you face to face. He didn't wanna admit it, not even to himself, but he was so fucking nervous that you might reject the invite to the fanciest Italian Restaurant in the city. Aegon knew that you would've every right to deny him, as it wasn't an demand written in your contract. So as soon as you said yes, he was desperately excited, he went crazy thinking about how not to ruin it. He might be a disgusting womanizer when it came to other girls, but he really wanted to impress you, his Sugar Baby.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who was a complete disaster since the beginning of your "date", trying to impress you with anything fancy and expensive, but in the end he got so drunk on wine that you had to help his private driver put him inside the limousine. You even thought that you would've to go back to your modest house and wasted the debut of that fancy dress, heels and jewelery that he bought you the day before. However, Aegon even in his drunken state begged you to come with him to the mansion, saying he didn't wanna be alone and also needed to apologize.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who felt sucks when he woke up and saw you lying on the other large couch, asleep and looking kinda lost. That sight made him feel like the worst Sugar Daddy and the worst man too, so he admiring you sleeping for a while, being careful not to wake you and asking the mansion's cooks to make you the best breakfast possible, and asking two other employees to buy you more jewelry and flowers, as well as a new Prada bag.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who would wait for you to forgive him (which occurred without any resistance by your part) before finally kissing you, feeling much more hesitant and nervous than when he lost his virginity with his father's random secretary, when he was just a teenager with hormones raging.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who from that day on would start taking you on every trip. You might even miss some college classes, but who cares? Do you wanna know Greece? Do you wanna go to Venice? Spend the summer in Copacabana? Winter in Tokyo? Aegon will take you anywhere you want and fuck you in all those expensive hotels, even if that's not part of the original arrangement.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who doesn't wanna put a label on your situationship, because saying that you're his Sugar Baby sounds less complicated to him than admitting more feelings beyond that. However, when you mention being at a frat party with some people from your college, Aegon immediately goes after you, not caring about the confused looks from the young students when they saw an extremely rich older man coming towards you, picking you up as if you were a little child, throwing you into the limousine seat without his typical care, realizing that you did it all on purpose as soon as he saw your smug look afterwards.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who will order the driver to roll up the partition so he can climb up the tiny dress you were wearing at the party, slapping your ass several times, the expensive rings he wears on his hands making red marks on your soft flesh. He doesn't need to prepare you, the way you chose to dress the Victoria's Secret lingerie he bought you most recently sends his mind into a frenzy, and all the driver can hear as he drives are the muffled sounds of your loud moans and the sound of your skins hitting each other, plus Aegon growling and degrading you as if you were nothing but a brainless whore.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who will ask you to be his girlfriend during the following weekend, preparing a trip to Paris and spoiling you with a Birkin Bag, also making your relationship official with a Cartier ring made of gold and decorated with 72 white diamonds, which cost at least $7,000.

• Sugar Daddy!Aegon who even though he's your boyfriend, will still keeping spoil you as he did before, when the bond between the two of you was just the Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby agreement. Actually... It will be much better, because the gifts will be even fancier and the fancy trips will be more expensive. Also... You'll be able to fuck with Aegon at his office whenever both of you want to, especially if you give in to his desires and drop out of college so you can just be his Sugar Baby during the day and his cockslut at night, not having to do anything but stay home and shop, or walk around the city, and then wait for your Sugar Daddy to fill you after he gets home from work, eager to feel his cock fucking your warm pussy while he presses you against the mansion's windows, already picturing the millionaire neighbors jerking off to the sight of your pretty breasts almost crushed against the glass and his cum dripping from your swollen and tight core.

[1ftinreality]

1ftinreality’s wolfstar fanfic recs - Jan 2025

@moonheavens makes these wolfstar fanfic rec lists that have led me to some incredible finds. so i wanted to take a stab at tracking my monthly reads, because this fandom is full of so many incredible people and i desperately need to yell about it! ah!

authors, if you’d like to be untagged, or if you’d like me to change/remove descriptions of your fic, please do let me know!

Some WIPs I have been losing my mind over

on another ocean by @colgatebluemintygel (133K, Explicit)

Sirius gets broken up with so of course he brings his BEST PAL Remus on a pre-planned romantic vacation across Europe. What could possibly go wrong??!!

Of Prefects, Pretence, and Precendent by Whoops_e (102K, Mature)

Remus is the fifth-year Gryffindor prefect and Sirius is a sixth-year who could not care less about swots. Or could he?

time passages by @fruityindividual (16K, Explicit)

They’re Hogwarts professors AND they’re ex-husbands!! Fruity_individual writes the best divorce fics and I CANNOT WAIT. 

Canon universe but better

Of Protein Powders and PTAs by @SquintClover and @Tracingpatternwrites (89K, Mature)

Enemies to lovers! Good soup! They’re on the Hogwarts PTA together, what could possibly go wrong?

Falling in Love Without You by @babblingflowers, @TherestheSnitch (51K, Explicit)

Sirius needs to get soul-bonded before his 20th birthday because of a Black family stipulation. He goes through the friend group looking for the perfect husband, and Remus helps him because of course he does :) 

Bound by @shiftylinguini (21K, Explicit)

Sirius comes back from the Veil to find Remus married to Tonks. They don’t talk about it, but they do… many other things instead.

Candy crush by bizarrestars (24K, Mature)

Remus has been sucking lollies to quit smoking. Sirius makes stealing them his hobby. Fluff, fluff for ages!

Modern AU

Writing Pages by @Dearamleo (118K, Explicit)

Remus is a struggling Masters student who meets Sirius at a house party. They don’t get along at first. 

A Brief History of Dragons by @eyra (23K, Mature)

Eyra always writes the softest, cosiest fics that soothe the soul. This is no exception. Sirius moves to Cornwall for the summer, where he meets a boy who may or may not be writing a book about dragons. 

The Road to Sweetwater by @EuripidesTrousers (57K, Explicit)

Bounty hunter Remus x Outlaw Sirius, with flavors of Brokeback Mountain. It’s about fighting back against an unjust system in spite of the odds, so, you know, not at all relevant to the state of the world right now. Every sentence, every phrase is so thought-through, I think I have half the fic highlighted just because of how beautiful it all is. 

The World is Waiting For You by thechanchanman (92K, Mature)

An Amazing Race AU! The silliest, sweetest banter, fluff all around! 

Sorry I'm Late - I Was Waiting For You by @euripidestrousers (84K, Explicit)

Obsessed with everything by euripidestrousers tbh. Sirius and Remus meet in college, but Remus is still a werewolf. 

I'm Waiting Here For You by ohyou-pretty-things (64K, Explicit)

Sugar daddy Sirius x sugar baby Remus. Such a gentle, lovely story, it’s like a big warm (spicy and fun) hug. 

Hurling Crowbirds at Mockingbars by @Wrapped-Up (40K, Explicit)

Exes to lovers, exes to lovers!! Remus ran off years ago but he’s back for some reason. Why??

Religious trauma?!?

Dear Your Holiness by @MollyMaryMarie (14K, Explicit)

Remus is a priest who helps Sirius write his dad’s eulogy. Breathtakingly thoughtful take on the hypocrises and contradictions of mainstream Catholicism.

The Fall by @euripidestrousers (13K, Explicit)

Remus is an elementary school teacher and Sirius is the devil, here to corrupt his soul. Oops.

Christmas AUs

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Robbin by @tealeavesandtrash (15K, Teens and Up)

Non-magical AU. Sirius visits the Potters in Hogsmeade and meets Remus, the local bookstore owner. Warm, festive vibes all around. 

Dear Mr Black by @languagelessonswolfstar (73K, Explicit)

Sirius is a celebrity chef who takes a career break at Remus’s BnB. MsAlex has the loveliest Xmas fics, and this is no exception. 

Short fics

Remus Lupin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Book Signing by @severedreamerfox (3K, Mature)

Remus is a public school librarian and Sirius is a children’s book author. Cute stuff all around!

Open Thoughts by @marigold-hills (3K, Mature)

Sirius becomes a temporary Occlumens after getting hit by a stray spell during an Auror mission. He becomes very, very aware of how his dear friend and roommate thinks about him.

What became of the dreams we had by @aryastark_valarmorghulis (8K. Mature)

Sirius visits Remus after Goblet of Fire. A sweet little fix-it of sorts.

Basilisks, Boggarts, and Boyfriends (oh my) by OptimisticDinosaur (8K, Teens and Up)

Sirius has the hots for the Dark Magic Exterminator he hired to clear out his parents’ place. So he starts planting Dark Creatures in his house to make Remus come back. Harry befriends a Basilisk in the meantime. 

This One's Just Right by thechanchanman (10K, Explicit)

Too many mattresses! A modern AU where James accidentally locks them in a mattress store.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLIX)

Chapter 49 : ‘I am the blossom pressed in a book, found again after two hundred years’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! We’ve got a wedding to prepare!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3215

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Briefly it enters, and briefly speaks

I am the blossom pressed in a book, found again after two hundred years. . . .

I am the maker, the lover, and the keeper....

When the young girl who starves sits down to a table she will sit beside me. . . .

I am food on the prisoner's plate. . . .

I am water rushing to the wellhead, filling the pitcher until it spills. . . .

I am the patient gardener of the dry and weedy garden. . . .

I am the stone step, the latch, and the working hinge. . . .

I am the heart contracted by joy. . . . the longest hair, white before the rest. . . .

I am there in the basket of fruit presented to the widow. . . .

I am the musk rose opening unattended, the fern on the boggy summit. . . .

I am the one whose love overcomes you, already with you when you think to call my name. . . .

Jane Kenyon

“I like the lemon one better.”

“Have you tried the chocolate and strawberry one yet?”

“I don’t think so… which one is it?”

“This one.”

“No…”

“Try it.”

You gathered a bit of cake on your small fork, and fed Andrew the mouthful.

Slowly, he nodded.

“Yeah… that one,” he kept on nodding, picking up a bigger bite with his own fork. “That’s the one.”

“I think so too.”

“God, that’s delicious,” he moaned and took a third piece.

“I think it’s among the most expensive ones though…”

“Honey, we’re getting married, we can choose whatever cake we want, no matter how much it costs.”

Getting married. Your heart still skipped beats every time you were reminded that you and Andrew were engaged.

You glanced at the engagement ring shining around your finger. You couldn’t believe it. It had been almost two months since Andrew had proposed, but you couldn’t believe it. You were engaged. You would soon marry him…

You were planning already. After announcing your engagement to your families and friends, you had settled on a date for the wedding. You didn’t want to wait for too long. It would happen in September, barely two months from now…

Two months…

You were planning things now, using the quiet of summer in the academic world to get everything ready for your big day. You thought back of Frank for a moment, of how he had pushed back the engagement, and then the wedding… how Andrew had started talking about dates days after proposing, how he had confessed that he didn’t want to spend too long being merely engaged to you, that he wanted to be married to you now…

“Hun?”

“Hmm?” you looked up at him again, tearing yourself from your thoughts.

“Do we have a winner?” he asked with a silly smile. “Shall we crown this guy the king of desserts?”

You laughed at his stupid jokes.

“Sure! Crown him king!”

Andrew grabbed a random piece of paper, folded it in what vaguely looked like a crown (or a triangle…) and put it down in front the plate, before cutting what was left of the cake in two. He fed you one of the pieces, and devoured the second.

“It’s divine,” he moaned again, letting himself fall back into your comfortable sofa.

You looked at the plates scattered on your coffee table. You had been sent a selection of seven flavours to choose from by the caterer you had hired for your wedding. They were specialised in weddings, and covered everything dealing with food and drinks. Seamus and Maggie had recommended them to you, and you had blindly trusted your friends.

Given the quality of the cakes, you were not regretting your decision.

Andrew heaved a sigh, made you turn to him. He patted his stomach, pinched the tiny bulge under his shirt there.

“I’ve eaten too much cake” he blurted out, making you laugh.

He was laughing too when he looked up at you again.

“Me too,” you giggled, resting your hand on his stomach as well.

You didn’t really notice that your caresses rose to his chest, until it made him chuckle

“Are you groping me?” he accused while wiggling his eyebrows, making you both roll your eyes and laugh.

“It’s not my fault… your boobs look amazing.”

You both laughed at your blunt compliment. He looked at you with a silly, goofy smile on his lips.

“I knew you were marrying me for my looks only.”

“Obviously. I’m shallow like that.”

You weren’t sure when Andrew’s hands had found your waist, when he had gently pulled you towards him until you were straddling him, but you were now, your face millimetres from his.

“I’m only dating you for your boobs and your hair.”

He laughed, bright and loud and carefree.

“Can I be your sugar baby then? Quit my job and just be your pretty husband?”

“I’m afraid that delicious chocolate cake is over my budget then…”

He heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I should have gone for someone richer.”

You mumbled something about him being silly against his lips, right before kissing him and lazily wrapping your arms around his neck.

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathed in deeply his earthy scent, felt your entire body relax when he pulled you even closer, pressing your chest to his. You kept on hugging him, wrapped around him like a koala, while your thoughts drifted…

You would soon get married. Andrew wanted to spend his entire life with you. He loved you enough to sign up for life. Somehow, you were what he wanted. When and how did you get so lucky?

“My love?”

“Hmmm?”

“Look at me…”

You complied, without a second thought, lifted your head so you could stare at his eyes. Beautiful hazel. They looked more brownish today, the light was rather dim in your living room because of the clouds.

Andrew stared at you for a moment, you silently questioned him, a shy smile on your lips. He merely smiled.

“You’re beautiful,” was all he said before kissing your cheek, your jaw, your neck… You barely registered that one of your hands moved to his hair, tugging at the soft strands, while the other brushed oved his shoulder, his chest, to settle on his pec.

He chuckled into your skin.

“You really do love my boobs.”

You both exploded with laughter, tenderness sipping through the tension that had electrified the room.

“Of course, I do! I love all your body.”

“I’m not letting you lick my toes, weirdo…”

“Shut up!” you complained, losing yourself in a fit of giggles.

Your heart was growing warm at the intimacy of it all, though. How easy it was to laugh and be silly with Andrew, even though both of you were clearly turned on, even though you both knew where this was heading… you were safe and comfortable enough with him to mingle happiness and pleasure.

“I think we should… compensate all the calories we’ve eaten,” Andrew spoke again, his voice suave rather than playful now, making chills run up your spine.

“Yeah?”

“Hmm… some cardio sounds good.”

“Any idea of what exercise we should do for that?” you kept on playing along.

His hands slipped under your shirt, summoned goosebumps in the wake of their soft caress.

“I have a few ideas.”

“I think I’m still hungry though… but not for cake,” you answered, and you caught how his breathing staggered, how his eyes darkened.

He enthusiastically nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Bed?”

“Bed.”

You didn’t expect him to simply stand up and pick you up, but he did. Your surprised giggle was shushed by his lips on yours, and you reckoned that you would clean up the mess in your living room much, much later…

The closer the wedding, the more the reality of the situation seemed to sink into your bones.

Of course, you were aware that you were engaged to Andrew. Of course, you knew that he would soon be your husband. But the information seemed surreal, too much so to properly sink in. You didn’t want to admit the main reason behind this hesitation though, why you could scarcely believe it…

You looked at yourself in the mirror then, and you couldn’t believe this was real. That the image reflected in the mirror was truly you in a wedding dress.

It was perfect. Delicate, soft, it made you feel so beautiful…

“Oh, Y/N…”

Behind you, Siobhán was crying, Raine and Katie too.

“You’re so beautiful, love,” Raine nodded, drying her eyes with a tissue.

“I think that’s the one,” you grinned, tears shining in your eyes as well.

“Yeah, definitely the one,” your best friend nodded.

“You’re gorgeous,” Katie nodded.

“You think Andy will like it?”

“His jaw is gonna drop to the floor,” Katie laughed.

“Besides, who cares what he thinks, it’s your dress!” Siobhán admonished, making you all laugh.

You ran your fingers along the lace that complimented your cleavage. You looked at how the fabric followed your curves perfectly, made you glow with joy. Yeah… yeah, Andy would love it…

You turned towards the tailor, she was smiling fondly at you.

“I think I’ll choose this one.”

“It suits you perfectly,” she nodded.

“Thank you.”

“You can take as long as you need, I’ll prepare the papers while you get ready.”

“Thank you.”

You admired your dress a little longer.

This was it… you were getting married to the love of your life… it was real…

You barely noticed Raine getting closer, but when you finally did and turned to her, she held you in a tight hug. You heard the tears in her choked voice.

“I’m so happy for the two of you, love,” she spoke softly. “I’m so happy you found each other. I know you’ll take good care of Andy, and he’ll take care of you too.”

She pulled away just enough to look at you, brushed your tears away.

“I’m so glad you’re our daughter now,” Raine grinned, filling your heart with warmth and your eyes with brand-new tears. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Thank you so much, Rainey…”

“If you need anything at all, John and I will always be here for you and Andy. You know that, right?”

You nodded, too touched by her promise to be able to summon words.

“God, Andy is not going to believe his eyes when he sees you!” she laughed, and you joined her. “You look so beautiful!”

“Thanks, Rainey…”

You hugged again, both of you a mixture of laughter and tears.

Andrew looked at himself in the mirror, and he couldn’t quite believe this was real. Was he truly trying on some suits for his own wedding? With you?

“Alex, move out of the way, for God’s sake…” John complained, playfully pushing Alex to the side so he could look at his son properly.

Andrew took a step back as well, so his father wouldn’t have to move his wheelchair and still be able to see him.

“What do you think of this one?”

“It’s better,” Jon nodded. “The other one wasn’t tight enough at the waist.”

“Yeah, it looked almost oversized,” Alex nodded.

Seamus walked around him, reached to readjust the vest around Andrew’s shoulders.

“You look good in this one,” he nodded.

“Do I?” Andrew asked, fidgeting.

But Seamus merely nudged him, not letting his friend spiral into self-doubt.

“You look great! This suits you.”

“Yeah?”

Indeed, this suit was perfect for him, and Andrew knew it. The more he looked in the mirror, the more he was convinced that this was the perfect suit.

He tried to be discreet as he brushed a tear away, but everyone noticed. Alex patted his back while he cleared his throat.

“She’s a lucky girl,” Alex nodded. “And you’re a lucky lad.”

“Yeah, sure am,” Andrew started to grin, thinking of you in a white dress.

He was almost there. Soon you would be married, and he would spend his life with you and…

Andrew turned around as he heard someone sniffing, and a fond smile broke his lips when he saw both his brother and his father brushing their eyes.

“Shut up! Don’t say anything, you eejit!” Jon warned his younger brother.

“Hmm… something in your eye, huh?”

“Exactly!”

But their father merely laughed, called for his youngest child to come closer with a gesture of the hand.

“I’m so happy for you, Andy,” he spoke in a quiet voice, holding his son’s hands. “Your mom and I… we’re so proud. And of course, you don’t need our blessing to get married, but… you have it. Y/N is perfect for you. And no matter what… your mom and I will always help you, no matter what…”

He was shushed by Andrew when he bent down to hug his father close.

“Thank you, dad…”

Seeing you wearing his clothes was Andrew’s favourite thing in the world.

Although, now that he came to think of it, he loved kissing you an awful lot too.

And having sex with you.

And talking with you.

Well, let’s say that it was one of his favourite things…

He took in the sight of you like this, cooking lunch while wearing nothing but one of his shirts. It was so big on you, though, it was almost a dress at this point. God, you were divine… his heart was pounding as he stared shamelessly at the length of your legs.

Elwood was sitting by your side, hoping to get a treat, but he barked when he noticed Andrew walking in. You greeted him with a grin, one so bright it was blinding.

When and how did he get so lucky?

“How are the bees, baby?” you asked in a hum.

“Fine. They’re fine,” he nodded, his voice quiet as he walked over to you. “They’re busy bees.”

You chuckled at the joke, while he kissed your shoulder through his shirt.

“What are you making?” he asked, brushing some sweat off his brow.

August was unbelievably warm this year, and spending an hour in full beekeeper’s gear wasn’t a good plan in this weather. That was probably why you were wearing nothing but his shirt, you were probably too warm…

“Want to go to the beach this afternoon?” he offered. “Cool down in the ocean?”

“Hmm… sounds nice. It’s so fucking hot here.”

“That’s because you’re in the room, honey.”

You laughed at his ridiculous pick-up line, nudged him with your hip playfully.

“I’m only half-joking,” he argued. “You’re so hot in my clothes.”

“Hmm… am I, now?”

“Can we…?”

“I’m cooking, baby!”

He heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Fine…”

It made you laugh, and it was like the whole world was brighter for a moment, like everything would be fine…

“I’ve called the photographer for the wedding, by the way,” you changed the subject, excitement audible in your voice. “Everything is ready!”

“Amazing!”

“She seems so talented, I’m so happy we could book her!”

“So what do we have left to plan?”

“Well… we’ve finished placing guests for the ceremony and for the reception, we have the menu, your suit, my dress… Is Alex still playing?”

“Of course. The band is ready.”

“I’m so glad they’ll play for our first dance.”

“Me too.”

“And I thought… maybe you could sing…”

“It’s my wedding! I’m not working!”

“But just one song… Please…”

You pouted, gave him your cutest puppy eyes, and Andrew couldn’t resist, he simply… couldn’t…

He rolled his eyes.

“One song. I’m doing one song. You choose one song, honey.”

“YES!” you jumped up and down in your excitement, making him laugh.

You gave him a series of pecks on the lips as a thank you, but seeing you so excited to hear him sing… it made his heart melt…

He tried to hide how emotional it made him, but you saw right through him, turned to hug him tight.

“So… everything is ready then?” he asked.

“Well, the wedding is in a few weeks now… so it should be. We just have to finish up planning the decoration for the ceremony.”

Andrew grinned at the thought. The ceremony would take place on the lands of some of his parents’ friends. They were happy to host the event. For the rest of the day, you rented some sort of mansion nearby that hosted this kind of events almost daily. There was a park, where tents would be set up for partying and eating, and if the weather allowed you would spend some nice time outside.

But you would say I do in the clearing where you had spent your first date, where Andrew had proposed… it was perfect…

“Love, I was thinking… would you like to do a ‘first glance’ kind of thing?”

“A what?”

“I don’t know if that’s what you call it. But like… us seeing each other first right before the ceremony.”

He gave you some time to think.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you admitted. “You’d like to do that?”

“Yeah… Like… I don’t know, I just… I like the idea of seeing you and… being able to have a moment together before the ceremony. Like… without any type of audience. I just…”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m worried about being… a little overwhelmed,” he admitted.

“Oh…”

Slowly, you pulled away, turned to your vegetables again.

“Okay,” you nodded, but you seemed nervous, almost sad all of a sudden.

“We don’t have to do it, it was just an idea,” he offered, but you shook your head.

“I… I understand if you need a moment to take the decision before marrying me, it’s okay.”

He frowned hard.

“What?”

You blinked up at him.

“Isn’t that what you’re asking? To have a moment to think?”

“No, I’m…”

A rush of insecurity came flooding his heart but he didn’t let it drown him. He had stopped overthinking everything.

You loved him. You loved him, and he knew it, if there was one thing in this fucked-up world he believed in, it was your love for each other.

He took a deep-breath, and calmed down, reaching for your hand.

“Honey, I don’t need to think, I want to marry you, that’s not the point. I’m just…”

He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to talk about his feelings, to be open to you about this.

“I’m just… You’re going to be in your wedding dress, and I… I know I’m going to be overwhelmed and cry when I see you. And I… I want to have this moment just for us. Seeing you in your dress, and… I want to be able to kiss you and hold you, and cry as much as I want because… I just know I’m going to be such a sap,” he joked.

Your expression changed for one of relief, and you nodded. He reached up to cup your cheek in his large palm.

“I love you more than anything in this world,” Andrew went on. “I don’t need to think, I’m not… hesitating or anything. I want to marry you. I’m just… I’m just going to cry and I don’t want to have to hide this because there’s an audience. I don’t know if that makes sense but… I want this moment to be just ours. But it’s okay if you don’t think that’s a good idea, if you want to see me for the first time that day during the ceremony…”

“No… no… that’s a good idea,” you nodded. “I like that… discovering you in your suit when we’re alone. I like that. We can do that, if you want to. And God… I’m going to cry so much too.”

You both laughed, and you let yourself fall against his chest for another embrace.

“I can’t wait to be your wife,” you admitted in a whisper.

“And I can’t wait to be your husband.”

He held tightly onto his shirt you wore, kissing your hair, feeling your lips rest against his heart.

“I’ve interrupted your cooking,” Andrew pointed out.

“That’s okay.”

“So… can I interrupt it a little longer so I can take this shirt off you and then…”

“No!”

You both laughed, your embrace unwavering.

And Andrew couldn’t wait to marry you.

[t00tsmcgee]

Rook as a companion banter episode six: Emmrich

Banter written with my Rook in mind. Read more about him here.

Part 1 (Neve) | Part 2 (Bellara) | Part 3 (Davrin) | Part 4 (Harding) | Part 5 (Taash) | Part 6 (Emmrich) | Part 7 (Lucanis) |

-

Emmrich: “So, Calais is it?” Calais: “You can call me Cal if you want, professor.” Emmrich: “Then I must insist you call me Emmrich.” Calais: “That will be strange, after having attended so many of your lectures.” Emmrich: “We are peers now, Cal.” Calais: “I suppose we are, Emmrich.”

Emmrich: “So Vorgoth raised you?” Calais: “Yes, I call him dad and everything.” Emmrich: “Strange to think of Vorgoth in that capacity.” Calais: “He’s a good father. Never pushed me too hard, let me make my own mistakes but was always there when I needed him. I owe him a great deal.” Emmrich: “I’m sure he’s very proud of you. He has every reason to be."

Emmrich: “So help me picture Vorgoth as a father of a very young Calais.” Calais: “He loves to talk about the time I was learning how to walk and waddled off into the forbidden section of the Necropolis library. He didn’t think I’d learn to walk so fast and so well. But I had help from a spirit.” Emmrich: “A spirit?” Calais: “Yes, a spirit of curiosity. She appeared to me as an old lady when I was little. She helped me walk by holding my hands and keeping me upright. I called her Nana.” Emmrich: “That’s incredible.” Calais: “Vorgoth didn’t like her much.”

Emmrich: “Why did Vorgoth not like that spirit? Nana, you called her?” Calais: *chuckling* “She was mischievous. That time I waddled off I was lost in the forbidden section for an hour before Vorgoth found me. I was only wee, so eventually my crying alerted him to my location.” Emmrich: “I do envy you, you know. Being able to talk to spirits like that.” Calais: “It has it’s perks. And its downfalls. But Nana always made me laugh.” Emmrich: “What happened to her?” Calais: “Nothing, she still roams the Necropolis. But she doesn’t visit me as much any more. She responds more to younger people, likes to guide them. But we do talk, occasionally. She tells me to mind my posture and eat more fruit.”

Emmrich: “Tell me another story of when you got into trouble with Nana.” Calais: “One time she helped me steal the cookie jar from the ration chamber. She distracted the watcher, and I snuck in to get it.” Emmrich: “Did Vorgoth find out?” Calais: “What do you take me for? Of course not. Myrna did though.” Emmrich: “What did she do?” Calais: “I bribed her with half the cookies. Vorgoth will never know.”

Calais: “This place (the lighthouse) is amazing. It’s so well crafted, so intricately woven into the fade.” Emmrich: “Isn’t it? The resonator in the main hall holds it all together so expertly.” Calais: “And it’s so in tune with it’s inhabitants. I discovered a whole section of books I’ve always wanted to read the other day, books that I’d never be able to get otherwise.” Emmrich: “Oh, which books are those?” Calais: “Captivating Hearts, Exquisite Encounters, Conflicted Yearning..” Emmrich: “I’ve.. never heard of those. Dare I ask what subject they cover?” Calais: “Stormy romances between beautiful people.” Emmrich: “I see.” Lucanis: “I would like to borrow them, when you are done with them, of course.”

Emmrich: “You’re a fan of romance literature then?” Calais: “I think tacking the descriptor of ‘literature’ on these books is perhaps a tad generous.” Emmrich: “I’m surprised you’re not a bit more interested in the more scientific books, given our shared profession.” Calais: “I read anatomy books all the time.” Emmrich: “Oh, pardon me. I never saw any in your bookcase.” Calais: “They’re all open on the coffee table so I can use them as reference for my paintings.” Emmrich: *fondly* “Of course.”

Emmrich: “Have you read the thesis of Lucian Herreford? It contains some very interesting theories about the weight of the human soul and about what happens beyond the mortal veil.” Calais: “No.” Emmrich: “What about the catalogue of death magics, by Viuus Anaxas?” Calais: “Eh.” Emmrich: “I’d consider that book a must read for every Mourn watcher. Did Vorgoth not give you homework to read, growing up?” Calais: “He certainly tried.” Emmrich: “I gather you didn’t care much for it. I’m surprised Vorgoth wasn’t more insistent.” Calais: “If you take issue with his parenting, I suggest you talk to him instead.”

Emmrich: “I asked Vorgoth about what we discussed.” Calais: “Oh? What did he say?” Emmrich: “That you were always easily distracted, especially when made to read subjects of a rather dry nature. So he instead took to reading them to you.” Calais: “He has a voice you can’t ignore.” Emmrich: “Are you really so easily distracted?” Calais: “I thought about five other things in the space of this conversation. Most of them involved my rats. And one was how I’m kind of craving ice cream.” Emmrich: “Huh.”

Calais: “Hey Emmrich, thanks for that talk the other day. It really helped.” Emmrich: “You’re most welcome. I enjoyed the time spent together. You’re far more talented than you give yourself credit for.” Rook: “What’s this?” Calais: “I’m training corpse whispering with Emmrich. He figured I could learn, given my talent to speak with spirits.” Emmrich: “He’s a quick study. A joy to have in class.” Calais: *laughing* “Well don’t say that, now I sound like a teacher’s pet!”

Calais: “I’m still trying to figure out how the particles respond to your intricate weaving pattern. I can’t get it down.” Emmrich: “It took me years to perfect. I’d be concerned if you mastered it straight away.” Calais: “You don’t understand, if I’m not immediately good at something, my inside voice tells me to just quit because I’ll never be any good at it, obviously.” Emmrich: “I believe we discussed what we say to this voice.” Calais: *Noise of agreement* “Shut up, Leonard.”

Emmrich: “You look troubled Calais.” Calais: “Leonard’s talking a lot these days.” Emmrich: “Ah. An unpleasant fellow, that Leonard. I don’t like him.” Calais: “Me neither. But I can’t shut him up today.” Emmrich: “I have a ritual I need to complete later, you’re welcome to come along.” Calais: “Alright. It can’t hurt. And maybe the distraction will keep Leonard quiet.” Emmrich: “Let’s hope so. If not, we can at least ignore him while we talk and tend to the dead.”

Calais: *shuddering and heavy breathing for a few seconds* Emmrich: “I recognize that expression. Are you alright?” Calais: *deep sigh* “Yeah. You know, just my crippling anxiety suddenly rising to the surface. No big deal. I’m good. I’m fine. This is fine.” Emmrich: “Deep breaths, feel your feet on the ground, feel how it anchors you. The soil tethers you to this world.” Calais: “Deep breaths, deep breaths..”*Inhales and exhales deeply. “Right. I’m here.” Emmrich: “I have smelling salt if you need it.” Calais: “You’re kind, Emmrich. I’m fine now. Thank you.” Emmrich: “You’re welcome, Calais. I know all too well how it feels.”

[huntresscaraquinn]

“You wouldn’t say that if the roles were reversed,” Cara replied. “There’s nothing cute about your face turning the color of a tomato.” Then they were getting settled into bed, but she wasn’t the best sleeper on a good day. Add her reuniting with Ross, and telling him everything about herself, and letting him care for her... And just the pain and the exhaustion of it all... For most people, that would knock them right out, but it just put her on edge; she was afraid of what would be waiting for her in her sleep. Which was why she started asking questions, nodding at his choice of word, “‘Intimacy’ is good. I like that.” It wasn’t overly descriptive, which meant it didn’t have her scrambling to cover her face again. “I think my mom would have been more open had I been more... inquisitive. Don’t get me wrong, my parents had strict rules about dating - that Ari flaunted at every turn - but I could’ve talked to them. I just... didn’t. And it sounds like you had something real with Elizabeth, something where all of that felt natural. Boyfriends for me were... I was never in love. I wanted to be, I thought I was supposed to be, but I ended up giving up. I figured I would have time for it after I became a professor.” After that, she was shaking her head, “I don’t, that’s just it, this is the first time where it truly feels right. Where I enjoy you hugging me and kissing me, and I’m learning how to return those gestures, but I worry... I worry that we’ll hit a wall.”

“I have,” Cara replied with a nod of her head, “You have been nothing but patient, a perfect gentleman. And it’s not exactly as if that’s a chore...” She sunk down a bit so the covers hid everything except her eyes, “...I just can’t control my utterly and completely embarrassing reactions.” Then she popped her head back up when he commented on how she never stopped complimenting him, and she countered, “Well, I suppose if you changed into a completely different person - both in looks and personality - then I would, but short of that, sorry. You’re stuck with them...” After that he was kissing her on the lips, pulling away to tell her he didn’t want to make her blood rush to her head too much, which had her responding in a daze, “Oh, but kissing me like that - that’s supposed to keep me coherent?” As for what he said about sleeping, she shifted some while trying to keep her leg propped up, only quiet for a moment before asking, “How do you do it? How are you so nonchalant about... all the things that make me blush and, I imagine, much more?”

[kim-jongin-s]

svt fic recs (mostly nc-17; jeongcheol, minwon, wonchan + other)

JEONGCHEOL

"a bit more than you". oneshot, 0.9k. pg-13.

Seungcheol always thinks he loves Jeonghan more.

"where love stays". oneshot, 2k. pg-13.

It’s Sunday and Seungcheol is running late.

"don't see us saying goodbye". oneshot, 3k. pg-13.

what if the love of your life ends up doing his service in your hometown and you abandon your friends to see him.

"stupid jocks and stupid bets". + soonhoon. college!au. oneshot, 4k. nc-17.

Seungcheol and Soonyoung are always making stupid bets. This time, while the two couples are supposed to be studying like the good students they are, Jeonghan and Jihoon unexpectedly find themselves at the center of yet another ego-driven bet.

"easy to want, hard to get". au: idol!sc. twoshot, 6.6k. pg-13.

Yoon Jeonghan’s fake husband is his longest running bit yet.

"ghost in the sheets". au, rule 63. oneshot, 7k. nc-17.

Someone is haunting Seungcheol.

"i will not ask and neither should you". au. oneshot, 12k. pg-13.

"Hyung," Mingyu says, sounding tired. "He lets you get away with everything. What’s a little more?”

"spider, beetle, bee". au: single dad!sc. oneshot, 21.5k. nc-17. ♡♡

“I’m going to have to talk with him about that— uh— I’m sorry, you’ve been, like, babysitting my kid three times a week, apparently.”

(Seungcheol learns about the inherent homoeroticism of sitting on a park bench with his kid’s imaginary friend.

MINWON

"amor, let me breathe deeply". omegaverse: alpha!ww, omega!mg. oneshot, 6k. nc-17. ♡

“Are you stupid?” a new voice chimes in. “If you had an omega like Kim fucking Mingyu, would your beta ass let him go?”

Oh, they’re talking about him. Them, actually. Conversations about Mingyu end up turning into conversations about Wonwoo, if they talk for long enough.

"fever pitch". omegaverse: omega!ww, alpha!mg. oneshot, 6k. nc-17.

Wonwoo pulled up the collar of his jersey and held it to his nose. Like many of the spectators, he was also wearing a jersey that read KIM, 17 across the back. The difference was that while others had purchased their official gear from a store, Wonwoo was wearing Mingyu's actual jersey.

"for you". film student!au. oneshot, 8.6k. nc-17.

Mingyu has a bad day. Wonwoo fixes it.

"the left side of everywhere". au: model!mg. oneshot, 12k. nc-17.

Wonwoo hadn’t anticipated running into his ex-fiancé in Paris, let alone ending up in his hotel suite. But after a night of high emotions and long-overdue honesty, he’s left unsure of what comes next. One thing, however, is clear: he’s still in love with Kim Mingyu, and he’ll do whatever it takes to prove he’s worthy of a second chance.

"no good reason". au: gang leader!ww. 15 chapters, 108k. nc-17.

Wonwoo, who has had everything ripped away from him, meets Mingyu, who’s been handed life on a silver platter.

WONCHAN

"come through and chill". au: idol!ww. oneshot, 2k. nc-17.

They're not actually together, but if he's in town the first place Wonwoo goes is Chan's apartment.

"asphyxiate". college!au: professor!ww, student!dn. oneshot, 8k. nc-17.

Chan wonders if it’s possible to asphyxiate on want alone. Professor Jeon sits across from him, looking intimidating behind the wood of the university issued desk, appearing disinterested as he rolls a pen between his fingers. But his eyes are locked on Chan’s mouth, and Chan knows that the points are in his favor during this game.

"welcome back, pavlov's dog". au: hybrid!dn. 3 chapters, 15k. nc-17. ♡

“Good morning, Chan,” Wonwoo says in a tone that he thinks is pleasant enough, “I’m Jeon Wonwoo, and I’m going to be the specialist in charge of you until…” Well, Seungcheol hasn’t really specified any time frame, only that money isn’t an object when it came to Chan’s treatment plan, “… well, until further notice. If you have any issues and concerns, it’s best that you go straight to me.”

OTHER

"sickeningly sweet like honey". seokhao. omegaverse: omega!dk, omega!mh. oneshot, 4k. nc-17.

Minghao is welcomed home with a night of Seokmin in his nest and under his hands.

"so hot you're hurting my feelings". gyushua. oneshot, 5k. nc-17.

One night in L.A., Mingyu goes to a bar he's heard will be a good time. Jisoo is waiting and watching and ready to give Mingyu exactly what he's looking for.

"adornment". seokgyu. oneshot, 6k. nc-17.

“You deserve to be babied. You deserve to be done up all pretty. You’re perfect.” Seokmin praises. “You--deserve--everything.”

"dying for you". verkwan. au. oneshot, 21k. nc-17. ♡

There’s an almost comically drawn out pause filled with only the sound of sizzling meat on the grill.

“Oh,” says Seokmin. “So you’re in love with the not dead guy.”

[billiesguitar]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

Stalker!billie x innocent!reader || ch.1 ||

warnings - stalking(don't do this plz)

(Billie's pov )

Beautiful.

that's all i could think as i watched her from a distance. she had no idea that i knew every little thing about her, that i studied her every move, her every smile, her every tear. she was so oblivious to the world around her, so lost in her own little bubble, that she never noticed how i was everywhere. to be completely transparent, i don't know what compels me to do this, following her around, taking pictures, obsessing over her, i don't know why i do it, i just do it. it's like some sort of magnetic pull, something inside of me that screams for more of her, something that keeps me coming back for more.

it had been our first week of university, orientation week, where we hung out, met new people, got situated, and whatever else normal people did. i decided to take a... different approach, not by choice, but by necessity. i had noticed her from the moment she stepped into the auditorium for the welcome assembly. she had the kind of aura that drew everyone in, made them question who she was, made them insecure, made them ask her out without knowing her properly. i just sat back and took notes on every little gimmick or bit or habit she had.

her name was y/n. i had followed her from class to class, lurked in the shadows as she went to the library, sat outside her dorm at night as she studied with the light on, and watched her as she slept. i know, it's creepy, but i couldn't help it, i needed her to be safe, needed to make sure she was okay. she was just so... innocent like bambi or something. i had to protect her from all the shit that was out there in the world.

every night i'd go home and write down everything she did, everything she said, every person she talked to, and i'd analyze it all, trying to piece together the puzzle of y/n. i have a whole notebook in my room dedicated to her, filled with pictures and notes and writing. she's 5'0, doesn't drink much out of personal choice, she loves to paint and sing, she likes painting her nails different colors, she loves coffee and shopping and music and has 3 siblings, 2 brothers and a sister. whenever she's nervous she touches her neck or when she's excited she swings on her feet. i know most things about her and she still knows nothing about me.

-

first day of classes, i decided to take a seat next to her in our english lit class. she had no idea who i was, of course, but she gave me a polite smile as she sat down. i took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. this was it, the closest i had ever been to her. the scent of her perfume filled my nose and i couldn't help but lean in slightly to get a better whiff. she smelled like vanilla and coconut, a heavenly combination that i had never smelled before.

"hi," she said softly, her eyes scanning my face for recognition. "i think i've seen you around. i'm y/n."

"oh," i said, playing it cool, trying not to let my excitement show. "i'm billie. it's nice to meet you."

y/n nodded, her eyes flicking back down to the book in her lap. i studied her from the corner of my eye, noting the way she played with the hem of her shirt as she listened to the professor drone on about the syllabus. she was so focused, so intense, that it was hard not to be captivated by her.

the class eventually ended and she began to pack up her things.

"need help with anything?" i offered, hoping she'd say yes.

"no, i'm good," she replied with a smile. "but thanks for asking."

as we walked out of the classroom together, she turned to me.

"do you know where the art building is?" she asked.

i nodded, "yeah, i can show you."

y/n's eyes lit up with relief and she fell into step beside me. we talked about our majors and hometowns, and i found myself getting lost in the sound of her voice, the way she talked with her hands, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about painting. it was like nothing else in the world mattered except for her.

when we got to the art building, she thanked me and went inside. i watched her go, feeling a strange mix of happiness and sadness. happiness because i had just had a real conversation with her, and sadness because i knew i had to let her go, for now.

but i couldn't stay away for long.

that night, i found myself outside her dorm again, watching her through the window. she was singing to herself, her voice a soft melody that floated out into the night air. i leaned closer, trying to make out the words, feeling a warmth spread through me as i did so. it was a strange feeling, one i had never felt before.

the next day, i was sitting outside her dorm when she walked out. she looked surprised to see me.

"hi again," i said, smiling.

"hi billie," she said, looking around nervously. "what are you doing here?"

"reading," i lied, trying to seem casual. "what about you?"

"oh, i'm just going to grab some lunch," she said, looking down at her watch, "i've got class in like 10 minutes so i've gotta rush" she added, looking a bit flustered. "see you around."

"see ya," i said, watching her go.

but i couldn't stay away. i followed her to the cafeteria, watching her from a safe distance as she ate with her friends. she laughed at something one of them said, and i felt a pang in my chest. i wanted to be the one making her laugh like that, the one she confided in, the one she leaned on.

as the days turned into weeks, our interactions became more frequent. we'd run into each other in the halls, at the library, and even at the coffee shop on campus. each time, she'd greet me with a smile, and each time i'd fall a little bit more in love with her.

but i knew i had to keep my distance. if she ever found out what i was doing, she'd be terrified of me. so, i contented myself with watching her from afar, taking in every little detail, every little gesture, and storing it away in the back of my mind.

—————

AU Masterlist

[cherryxbooo]

Love is never easy

Summary: Meeting a certain footballer wasn’t on your bingo card, but falling in love with him was even more unimaginable.

Reader x Pablo Gavi

Genre: fluff/angst

They say love should be simple.

That when you find the right person, it’s effortless, like a perfect pass that lands gently at your feet, as if it was always meant for you.

A connection so natural, so fluid, that you don’t even have to think.

But what happens when love feels like a game you’re always one step behind in?

When you’re constantly chasing, reaching, hoping, only to feel the ball slip just beyond your grasp?

I met Pablo Gavi in the most unexpected way, by quite literally crashing into him outside the stadium on a stormy evening.

The rain had been relentless, the kind that soaks through your clothes in seconds and turns the world into a blur of grey.

I hadn’t even been at Camp Nou for football.

My best friend’s brother worked security there, and I had come to meet her, completely unaware that fate had other plans.

One moment, I was battling my umbrella against the wind, the next, I was colliding into someone with enough force to make me stumble back.

My breath hitched as I looked up, my heart pounding, not just from the impact, but from the realization of who I had just crashed into.

Pablo Gavi.

His brow furrowed as he rubbed his arm where I had hit him, a soft curse slipping from his lips.

"Joder…" His voice was slightly irritated, rough around the edges, but the second his eyes met mine, something in them shifted.

His frustration faded, replaced by something else, curiosity, maybe. Amusement.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now.

I could barely find my words. "Y-yeah, I think so. Sorry about that."

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head.

"You put up more of a fight than most defenders I face."

I didn’t expect him to remember me after that.

But he did.

The next time I visited my friend, I felt a pair of eyes on me before I even saw him.

And when I finally turned, there he was, leaning casually against a railing, arms crossed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Still fighting with the wind?" he teased.

That time, I laughed.

The time after that, we talked.

And before I even realized what was happening, he had become a part of my life.

It felt easy. Too easy.

Like a dream you don’t dare wake up from.

But love, love is never easy.

They say the best love stories begin with friendship.

That the strongest bonds are the ones built slowly, quietly, in the spaces between laughter and late-night conversations.

That was us.

For months, Gavi and I existed in a space that wasn’t quite friendship but wasn’t something more either.

A delicate balance of playful teasing and unspoken feelings, of being each other’s first call at the end of a long day, yet pretending we didn’t notice the way our voices softened when we spoke to one another.

It started with late-night phone calls.

"Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?" I’d ask when my phone buzzed at nearly 2 a.m., his name lighting up my screen.

"Can’t sleep," he’d mumble, voice groggy but warm, like he had already been dozing off.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?"

"Anything."

So I would. I’d tell him about my day, about a funny thing my professor said, about how my best friend had tried (and failed) to set me up with someone.

I’d hear him scoff at that, muttering something under his breath that I could never quite catch.

Sometimes, it was the other way around.

"Tough game?" I’d ask when he called me after a match, his voice quieter than usual.

"Yeah," he’d sigh. "I just... I don’t know. I should’ve done better."

I’d listen as he talked, let him get it all out, the frustration, the pressure, the weight of expectations that never seemed to ease.

And when he was finished, when there was nothing left but silence, I’d whisper, "You’re too hard on yourself, you know that?"

His response was always the same, a quiet exhale, a soft "Only you say that."

I never knew what to do with the way my heart reacted to those words.

Then there were the little things.

The way he always seemed to know when I was having a bad day, sending me a simple "You okay?" that somehow made everything feel lighter.

The way he showed up at my university when he had a rare afternoon off, waiting for me outside my lecture hall with a coffee in hand.

"You didn’t have to do this," I’d tell him, but he’d just shrug, like it was nothing.

"You always forget to eat when you’re stressed," he’d say, handing me a sandwich like he had memorized my habits better than I had.

We never talked about whatever this was.

Never acknowledged the way his hand always seemed to find the small of my back when we walked through a crowd.

Or how we lingered just a little too long whenever we said goodbye.

It was easier this way.

Easier to pretend we were just friends.

Even when everything we did felt like something more.

Even when I already knew, I was falling.

And then, without realizing it, I had already fallen.

I fell for the way he looked at me, like I was something rare, something worth holding onto.

I fell for the way his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on my palm whenever we sat in silence, as if memorizing the shape of me.

I fell for the way he always pulled me closer in a crowded room, his grip firm, protective, like he was afraid I’d slip away.

I fell, hard and fast, like I never had before.

But love, love is never just about falling.

It’s about what happens after.

And somewhere along the way, something changed.

It didn’t happen overnight.

There was no sudden, dramatic shift.

It was slow, subtle, the kind of change you don’t notice at first, like the days getting shorter, the cold creeping in before you even realize summer is gone.

It started with the little things.

The way his replies to my texts, once almost instant, started coming slower.

At first, I brushed it off he was busy, caught up in training, exhausted from travel.

But then, the messages themselves became shorter. A simple "Yeah." or "We’ll see." replacing the playful, teasing paragraphs he used to send me.

The voice notes that once made me smile, his laughter, the way he always seemed to have a story to tell, became fewer and fewer, until one day, they just stopped.

The late-night calls faded too.

"Are you awake?" I would text, staring at my phone, waiting for those three little dots to appear.

Sometimes they did. Sometimes they didn’t.

When they did, it was always the same answer.

"Tired. Talk tomorrow?"

But tomorrow came, and we didn’t talk.

At first, I told myself it was fine.

I told myself I was overthinking it. That he was just busier than usual, that he was under pressure.

I made excuses for him, ones he never even had to say out loud.

"He’s training harder." "He needs space." "Nothing’s wrong."

But deep down, I knew.

I knew when he started canceling plans.

It wasn’t dramatic.

No last-minute apologies, no elaborate excuses. Just a quiet shift.

A "Can we reschedule?" here, a "Next time, yeah?" there.

Plans that were once effortless, ones he used to fight for, rearrange his schedule for, suddenly became too difficult to make.

I knew when he stopped showing up unannounced at my university.

When I stopped catching him watching me from across the room.

When his touch, once so natural, so certain, became hesitant, like he was holding himself back.

The first time I felt it, really felt it, was at a party.

It was crowded, loud, the kind of scene he usually hated but endured because I was there.

I saw him across the room, talking to someone, a teammate, a friend, I wasn’t sure.

He was laughing, the kind of carefree laugh I hadn’t heard from him in weeks. And then, for just a second, his eyes met mine.

A beat of silence.

And then, he looked away.

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the sinking feeling in my chest. Maybe he hadn’t seen me.

Maybe I was imagining things.

But later that night, when I reached for his hand the way I always did, he didn’t pull me closer.

He let go.

And that was when I knew.

The boy who once fought for every second with me was now letting moments slip away.

The boy who once looked at me like I was his safe place now seemed distant, distracted, like he was carrying something he couldn’t share.

And then, one night, everything came crashing down.

It wasn’t one thing, it was everything.

A missed call that turned into three. A message left on read. An excuse that felt too rehearsed, too empty.

And finally, the truth, the thing I had been too afraid to admit to myself.

I wasn’t losing him.

I had already lost him.

Meanwhile,

The ball bounced off his foot awkwardly, rolling too far ahead.

Gavi cursed under his breath, sprinting to recover it, but his timing was off again.

The pass he attempted was sloppy, the kind of mistake he never made, and when he looked up, he caught the coach watching him with narrowed eyes.

"Focus, Gavi!" the coach called out.

"Sí, míster," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Something was off with him today, had been for days, if he was being honest.

He felt it in the way his movements were just a fraction too slow, in the way his mind wasn’t fully locked into the game.

Football was supposed to be his escape, the one thing that cleared his head. But lately, it wasn’t working.

And the reason?

Y/n.

He had been trying not to think about her.

Trying to push away the ache that settled in his chest whenever he saw her name on his phone screen and didn’t answer.

Whenever he caught himself reaching for his phone, only to stop himself. Avoidance was supposed to make this easier.

It wasn’t.

He didn’t notice Fermin watching him until his friend nudged him, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Alright, qué pasa contigo?" Fermin asked, keeping his voice low as they walked off the pitch for a water break.

"Nothing," Gavi answered too quickly, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Fermin snorted. "Yeah, sure. That’s why you’ve been playing like absolute shit today?"

"Fuck off," Gavi muttered, but there was no real bite behind his words.

Fermin wasn’t having it. "Seriously, bro. What’s going on? You’re not yourself."

For a second, Gavi considered brushing him off again.

But something about the way Fermin was looking at him, genuinely concerned, made him sigh in defeat.

"It’s about Y/n."

Fermin’s eyebrows raised slightly in recognition.

"The girl you’ve gotten close with?"

Gavi nodded, running a hand over his face.

"I thought you two were good. What happened?"

Gavi let out a breath, shaking his head. "Nothing happened… that’s the problem."

Fermin frowned. "Okay, you lost me."

Gavi hesitated before finally admitting, "I fell for her." The words felt heavy, like they had been weighing on his chest for too long.

"And I don’t know what to do with that."

Fermin stared at him for a beat before laughing under his breath.

"Pablo, you’re acting like that’s the worst thing in the world."

"You don’t get it." Gavi exhaled sharply.

"I never had someone like her before. She’s… different. She actually knows me, not just the football part of me, but me. And if I tell her how I feel and it ruins everything, I lose that. I lose her."

Fermin tilted his head, considering his words.

"So what? You decided the best solution was to avoid her?"

Gavi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I thought maybe if I put some distance between us, it would go away."

Fermin blinked at him. "Go away?"

"Yeah—"

"Are you dumb?" Fermin cut him off, looking genuinely baffled.

"Like, actually, physically dumb?"

Gavi scowled. "Qué?"

"You’re trying to avoid losing her, but you are losing her. Right now. Because you’re pushing her away." Fermin threw his hands up.

"Bro, you’re literally doing the one thing you don’t want to happen."

Gavi clenched his jaw, looking away.

He knew Fermin was right, but hearing it out loud made his stomach twist.

"Just talk to her," Fermin said, his tone softer now.

"Be honest. If she doesn’t feel the same, then yeah, it’ll suck, but at least you’ll know. At least you won’t lose her like this."

Gavi sighed, staring down at the grass beneath his feet.

"And if she does feel the same?" he asked quietly.

Fermin smirked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Then you stop being a dumbass and finally do something about it."

Gavi rolled his eyes, shoving his hand off. "You’re annoying, you know that?"

"And you’re dramatic," Fermin shot back.

"Seriously, this is some novela-level shit."

Gavi groaned, tossing his water bottle at him. "Shut up, tío."

Fermin just laughed, dodging it easily.

"Nah, but for real, you owe me when you and Y/n get together. I'm talking VIP tickets, front row seats."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Gavi grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips now.

For the first time in weeks, he felt like he knew what he had to do.

He had to stop running.

And he had to tell you.

Pablo had called.

Twice.

And then he had texted. "Can we talk?"

But I didn’t answer.

I told myself it was because I was still mad.

That I wasn’t ready to hear whatever excuse he had for pushing me away like I meant nothing.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

I was scared.

Scared that if I let him back in, he’d hurt me again.

That I’d start hoping, start falling again, only to end up in the same place, alone, confused, wondering where it all went wrong.

"You’re overthinking this."

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts.

My best friend sat across from me, legs tucked under her as she scrolled through her phone like she hadn’t just said something completely outrageous.

"I am not overthinking," I defended, arms crossed.

She gave me a pointed look. "Oh really? So what do you call ignoring him for days instead of hearing him out?"

"I call it self-respect."

"Mhm, sure," she said, unimpressed.

"Or maybe… just maybe, you’re terrified of whatever he has to say because it might actually make sense."

I groaned, flopping back against the couch. "Why are you on his side?"

"I’m not on his side," she argued.

"I’m on the side of common sense, which neither of you seem to have. Look, men are dumb, babe. They don’t know how to act. They get feelings and then short-circuit like malfunctioning robots."

That made me laugh.

"So what, you think he just malfunctioned?" I teased.

"Obviously," she said dramatically.

"Poor guy probably thought ignoring you would fix his feelings. Meanwhile, here you are, going through all five stages of grief in your pajamas."

I smacked her arm, but I was laughing now, the weight in my chest feeling just a little lighter.

"I hate you," I muttered.

"No, you don’t," she sang, standing up and stretching.

"Alright, I gotta go. Just… think about calling him, okay? At least to yell at him properly. You deserve that much."

I rolled my eyes but nodded.

"That’s my girl," she said before grabbing her bag and heading out.

The apartment was quiet now. Too quiet.

I sat on the couch, staring at my phone, thumb hovering over Pablo’s contact.

Should I call him?

My best friend’s words played in my head. "You deserve that much."

She wasn’t wrong. I did deserve an explanation.

But was I ready to hear it?

To let him back in when I wasn’t even sure I had fully healed from the way he had pushed me out?

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Maybe I’d sleep on it.

Maybe tomorrow—

Knock, knock.

I frowned.

Was my best friend back? Did she forget something?

I stood up, walking over to the door. "Did you leave your—"

My breath caught in my throat.

It wasn’t her.

It was him.

Pablo stood there, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his hair slightly messy like he had run his fingers through it too many times.

His eyes met mine, and for a second, neither of us spoke.

"Can we talk?" he asked, voice quiet.

I should’ve slammed the door in his face.

Or at least made him wait longer, the way he had made me wait for an explanation.

But I didn’t.

I stepped aside, letting him in.

Pablo sat down on the couch, his knee bouncing slightly like he wasn’t sure how to start.

"I know you’re mad at me," he finally said.

I crossed my arms. "No shit."

He sighed. "I deserve that."

"Yeah, you do."

Silence.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"I messed up, Y/N. I know that. And I hate that I made you feel like I didn’t care, because I do. More than I should, probably."

My heart clenched, but I kept my expression neutral.

"Then why did you push me away?"

Pablo hesitated, like he was still debating whether to be fully honest.

Then, he exhaled sharply. "Because I fell for you."

I blinked. "What?"

"I fell for you," he repeated, looking at me now.

"And I freaked out. I thought if I ignored it, if I put space between us, maybe I wouldn’t ruin everything."

I stared at him, waiting for the logic to kick in.

It didn’t.

"So let me get this straight." I leaned forward.

"You caught feelings… and your solution was to avoid me?"

"Yes?"

"Pablo, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

"Okay, Fermin already told me that, no need to gang up on me," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

"No, because—" I let out a frustrated groan.

"Do you even realize how badly that hurt? You were my best friend, Pablo. And then you just… disappeared."

His eyes softened, guilt flashing across his face.

"I know. And I hate that I hurt you. But, Y/n, I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve never had someone like you before. Someone who actually sees me. Not just the footballer, but me."

My heart skipped a beat.

"And I didn’t want to lose that," he continued, voice quieter now.

"I thought if I told you how I felt, I’d ruin what we had. But then, avoiding you just made me lose you anyway."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Yeah, it did."

Silence again.

Then, softer this time, he asked, "Can I fix it?"

I exhaled slowly. "You really are an idiot, you know that?"

He cracked a small smile. "Yeah, I’m getting that a lot lately."

I didn’t even realize I was smiling too.

The tension in the room slowly shifted, the weight in my chest lifting ever so slightly.

"So what now?" I asked.

Pablo hesitated before saying, "I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Y/n. I want more. But if you don’t feel the same, I swear I’ll—"

I cut him off by grabbing his hand.

"You’re an idiot," I repeated. "But you’re my idiot."

His breath hitched. "So…?"

"So, you better not run away again."

His grin was instant, and before I could say anything else, he pulled me into a tight hug, burying his face in my shoulder.

"I won’t," he promised. "Not again."

I let myself melt into his embrace, my heart finally at peace.

We broke the hug, but his gaze never left mine.

Before I knew it, I felt his hand on my cheek, gently pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

Damn. It really was worth the wait.

Eventually, we both pull away to catch our breaths.

"So, does this mean we’re together now?" Pablo asked, grinning.

"I don’t know," I teased. "Are you gonna ignore me and be stupid again?"

"No!"

"Then I guess so."

He smirked. "You could’ve just said you wanted to be my girlfriend, princesa."

"And give you the satisfaction? Never."

He groaned, flopping onto the couch dramatically.

"Great. I’m dating a menace."

I threw a pillow at him. "And I’m dating an idiot. Perfect match."

He caught the pillow, tossing it aside before grabbing my hand again, this time intertwining our fingers.

"Yeah," he murmured, looking at me with that familiar, warm gaze.

"Perfect match."

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

The end

[septemberzacademia]

(Day 1) How to get started with academic blogging and why it is worth it

Well, I have recently started blogging or trying my hand at blogging on Tumblr. I guess that makes me the best person to talk about this because I literally just started, haha.

Why did I start blogging?

I have always enjoyed writing, but I used to write in my journals, for my assignments and on my secret blog-- I loved it. I have been doing this since I was in the 7th grade. But as I came to college, my indulgence in writing and blogging decreased because so much happened in my life. I moved to a new city, met new people, studied something I never learned before, and the university experience was nothing less than crazy. But with time, I realised I was losing this dialogue with myself. I did lose it. But I made the decision to find it again. And here I am.

The second thing I did was pick my niche. Even though I am journalling as much as I can, I am blogging occasionally on my private blog, but this place is something I want to do every day. The only thing other than breathing, eating, and existing that I did every day or most days was indulging in Academics.

Then, I thought about my intentions with it and what kind of content I wanted to produce. I thought about it a lot. I realised I wanted to start with something basic out there, but I am giving that information along with my experience and comprehension-- I liked the idea. Because as a perfectionist and an academic, I love complex topics and sounding intelligent and sound. But when you start with something new, GO BACK TO THE BASICS. I would instead learn the basics, finish my cringe era and move on to the authentic me era rather than be stuck as someone who just thinks and never executes. You know what I mean, right?

So, this post is me committing to my promise. It is about me, and it is about you-- I want to help. As a future professor, I want to be able to provide information and resources to people. So this is where I start from.

Why start an academic blog?

Writing and researching academic topics and tools will help you develop your knowledge, improve your articulation skills, and increase your understanding of the topic.

The more you write. The better you will get. It will also help you with your essays, thesis, papers, etc.

We live in a world of social media and chronically online people—having a presence is necessary. This presence will help you showcase your skills to the admission committee.

You'll be helping people struggling with what you wrote about. Spread love and knowledge!

If you are looking for a community to rely on, you'll be able to connect with like-minded people.

Also, for people who struggle with discipline, just like me, you'll develop some and learn consistency as well-- and once you see the results (of you getting better), you'll try harder. Love this for us.

How to get started? (I'll try to keep it simple so the process does not overwhelm us. I got you, girls.)

Choose a platform. Like I chose Tumblr (and will later move to WordPress or Instagram)

As I mentioned before, pick a niche-- you can change it later, so don't worry. Pick something simple.

Create the first post on something simple, like "How to get started with academic blogging and why it is worth it". Just post something. Just do it. Don't overthink.

Regularly post—sometimes the posts are two lines long and over 1000 words. Just let the creative juices flow. Beginning a blog is about getting comfortable with the platform and learning about your likes and dislikes. So chill, breathe in, and breathe out. We got this—and POST!

Also interact with other accounts and people in the community, which I haven't been able to do myself. T.T. I am working on my applications, which are due this month, and then I'll be working on this.

And that's it. It was so fun to write this post. I am thankful for tons of YouTube videos I saw back in the day and chatGPT as well. And my sexy brain and my readers.

I hope everyone has a great day or night! <3

[starry-scarl3tt]

mrs sandra i am so so so so sorry for whatever my classmates have said to you. i am so sorry for the spilling of secrets about the teacher shipping you have heard. pls don’t tell anyone.

ANYWAYS APPARENTLY THE TEACHER I THOUGHT WAS A RAGING GAY MAN IS STRAIGHT ASF???? BITCH WHAT. NO TEACHERS ARE DATING EACH OTHER???????????????? WHY DO THEY LOOK SO LOVINGLY AT EACH OTHER THEN??? WHY DO THEY HOLD HANDS AND FOLLOW EACH OTHER LIKE LOST PUPPIES???? ALSO MR SEMINARY GRADUATE APPARENTLY HAS A GIRLFRIEND???????? SIR WHY ARE YOU HITTING ON EVERY LIVING BEING IN THE SCHOOL????

[satoruxx]

y’all i finally unlocked caleb’s whole myth… nobody hmu i literally almost cried my eyes out wtf

[liuisi]

what is it about becoming an academic that makes you like bad poetry

[murdermost-foul]

how about i semantic map model your ass

[soutsuji]

There's an English class on Golden Age detective fiction being offered next semester but the prerequisite for it is the intro to literary study class required for all English majors (which I haven't taken because I'm in a hard STEM major and don't have much time for electives, which means that I have to be really picky with my electives and only go for stuff I like AND doesn't have an awful workload) and also even if I did have that prereq, I wouldn't be able to take the class because it's at the same time as one of my major reqs. And also I'll be in two labs next semester and one of them is pure hell so like I literally don't have the time to take more than 13 credit hours (as tempting as it is to keep up my streak of taking 17-18 every semester even though it's been like really pretty bad for my social life and hobbies). Sigh. (Pressing my hand wistfully against the glass) maybe someday they'll offer the class again

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

Called my aunt to wish her a happy birthday and we spent an hour discussing what I was doing with my life 😭

[bmpmp3]

speaking of my best friends :, -, and ,, im an art history/visual culture major and i write these really fucked up 50-100 word sentences in a lot of my assignments and i joke about that often to classmates but earlier today i was reading an article about impressionism for class and i was looking at some of these quarter-page long sentences like damn. maybe im in the right field