#notes on top of art class on top of needing to buckle down on my portfolio. sighs.

[paging-possum]

genuinely going to be surprised if I make it out of this year without reinjuring my wrist chronic style again. had to speedwrite for 40 minutes today and my wrist is slowly going numb again <3

[masteryminutes]

Optimize Your Time: Proven Prioritization Hacks for Mastering Task Management

Part 1: Understanding the Basics of Task Management Introduction Hello there, task conquerors! Ever feel like your to-do list is longer than the plot of a Game of Thrones episode? Fear not! Task management is here to save the day, and we're about to dive into the juicy secrets of mastering it. Task management isn't just a fancy term your boss throws around; it's the superhero cape your productivity wears. In this article, we're not just going to talk about task management – we're going to give it a makeover Hollywood style. Get ready for prioritization hacks so good, even your coffee will be caffeinated with excitement. So, why should you care about task management? Well, besides avoiding the chaos of misplaced priorities and the horror of forgotten deadlines, it's your ticket to a stress-free, organized life. Intrigued? Buckle up; we're about to make your to-do list bow down in awe.

2. The Fundamentals of Prioritization Alright, my fellow task-tacklers, let's get down to brass tacks – prioritization style. Imagine you're a wizard, and your to-do list is your magical spellbook. Prioritization is like casting the right spells to make sure your day doesn't turn into a chaotic potion-making class at Hogwarts. Defining Prioritization – Because Sorting Hats Are Overrated Prioritization isn't just a fancy term; it's the Gandalf of task management. It's about deciding what needs your attention now and what can chill in the Shire for a bit. Think of it as creating your own VIP section in the club of tasks – some get front-row seats, while others wait for the after-party. Now, we're not saying your tasks have feelings, but if they did, prioritization is like giving them a ranking on the VIP guest list. It's the art of telling your to-dos, "You, my friend, are the headliner tonight!" The Importance of Setting Clear Goals – Because Goals Are Like Treasure Maps Setting clear goals is like having a treasure map to your dreams. You wouldn't embark on a pirate adventure without knowing where the booty's buried, right? Goals give your tasks a purpose, a direction, and a shiny 'X marks the spot.' Imagine your goal is the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow – sparkly, tempting, and worth the journey. When you're clear on what you want to achieve, your tasks suddenly become eager little minions working together to help you reach that pot of gold. It's like having your own productive army, but with fewer swords and more sticky notes. So, fellow task-masters, sharpen your wands (or pencils), because we're about to cast the prioritization spell and set some clear goals. Your to-do list will thank you – and maybe even give you a round of applause. 3. Top Task Management Strategies Alright, time-travellers in the task galaxy, let's teleport into the realm of Google's top-secret strategies for conquering your to-dos. Spoiler alert: no Google algorithm was harmed in the making of these strategies. Discussing the Top Strategies - Because Google Said So According to the intergalactic council of search engines, there are task management strategies that make Jedi-level prioritizers jealous. First up, we've got the 'Eat That Frog' strategy. No, it doesn't involve slimy amphibians, but it does involve tackling your biggest, ugliest toad of a task first. It's like saying, "I'm the boss, and you, task, are my first victim – I mean, victory." Next on Google's hitlist is the 'Two-Minute Rule.' If a task can be done in two minutes or less, do it right away. It's the equivalent of swatting away annoying flies before they turn into full-blown mosquitoes. Quick, easy, and you feel like a superhero with a fly-swatter. Bonus points if you make a 'whoosh' sound while doing it. Now, let's talk about the 'Pomodoro Technique.' Sounds fancy, right? It's Italian for 'tomato,' but fear not, you don't need to speak Italian to master this strategy. It involves breaking your work into focused intervals (usually 25 minutes) followed by a break. It's like the power naps of productivity – short, sweet, and you wake up ready to conquer the next task. Highlighting Key Takeaways Now, these strategies aren't just mind games; they're your trusty sidekicks in the battle against procrastination monsters. The key takeaway from 'Eat That Frog' is to face your fears head-on – like a knight facing a dragon, but with fewer scales. For the 'Two-Minute Rule,' the lesson is simple: Don't let tiny tasks gang up on you. Deal with them swiftly, like a ninja in a room full of passive-aggressive sticky notes. And for the 'Pomodoro Technique,' remember that breaks are your superhero cape. You're not lazy; you're recharging for the next mission. So, my task-wizards, grab your magic wands (or mouse) and let's cast these Google-approved spells on our to-do lists. May the productivity force be with you! 4. The Art of Saying No Ahoy, fellow navigators of the task seas! Let us unlock the ancient scrolls of 'The Art of Saying No.' No, it's not a lost chapter from a ninja manual, but it might just make you feel like a task management ninja. Emphasizing the Importance of Setting Boundaries - Because Even Batman Has a Bat-Signal Off Switch Setting boundaries is like creating a force field around your sanity. Imagine your energy is a superhero costume – you wouldn't wear it 24/7, right? Boundaries are like a superhero costume changing room, reminding you that it's okay to hang up the cape and chill in your civvies. In the world of tasks, saying no is your superpower. It's not about being the task-villain; it's about being the hero of your own story. Remember, even Superman took breaks from saving the world to binge-watch his favorite TV shows. Setting boundaries is like telling tasks, "Not today, my friend. I'm on a break." Tips on Gracefully Declining Tasks - Because We're Not Shooting Down UFOs Now, gracefully declining tasks isn't about summoning your inner James Bond with a martini in hand (unless that's your thing). It's about being honest and kind. Picture this: You're the Captain of the S.S. Task List, and you're steering through choppy waters. When a new task tries to jump aboard, a simple, "I appreciate the offer, but my ship's full," will do the trick. Remember, saying no isn't a rejection; it's a redirection. You're not closing doors; you're guiding tasks to the right entrance. Think of it as task Feng Shui – arranging your workload for maximum harmony. So, my task-time travelers, practice your superhero stance in the mirror and get ready to wield the mighty power of saying no. Your sanity will thank you, and your to-do list will learn to respect the force field of boundaries. 5. Mastering Time Blocking Let us dive into the mystical realm of time blocking – a technique so powerful, it's like having a TARDIS for your schedule. Buckle up, because we're about to make time our trusty sidekick. Detailed Explanation of the Time Blocking Technique - Because Time Isn't a Banana, It's a Puzzle Imagine your day as a jigsaw puzzle, and time blocking is the master plan to make all the pieces fit seamlessly. It's not about turning your day into a military operation; it's about becoming the choreographer of your own time ballet. Firstly, pick a chunk of time – let's call it a 'time slice.' Pretend you're slicing a piece of cake, but instead of indulging in frosting, you're indulging in productivity. Assign specific tasks to each slice. Voila! You've just created a schedule that's as organized as Marie Kondo's sock drawer. Tips for Implementing and Optimizing Time Blocking - Because We're All Artists of Our Own Schedule Implementing time blocking is like learning to ride a bike – wobbly at first, but soon you're cycling through your tasks like a Tour de France champion. - The Picasso Approach: Just as Picasso approached art, approach your day in blocks of focused work and brief rest. Your schedule is your canvas, and each block is a stroke of genius. - The Sherlock Technique: Channel your inner detective and analyze when you're at your peak Sherlock-ness. Schedule your most demanding tasks during your 'mind palace' moments. - The DJ Mix: Like creating the perfect playlist, mix up your tasks. Alternate between the high-energy beats of challenging work and the smooth vibes of more relaxed activities. Remember, time blocking is flexible, not a straitjacket. Life happens, emergencies pop up – it's the jazz improv of scheduling. Roll with it, and you'll be the Miles Davis of task management. So, my time-wizards, grab your scheduling wand and start blocking your way to a more organized and surprisingly entertaining day. Time waits for no one, but with time blocking, you'll be the one doing the waiting – for your tasks to bow down to your well-orchestrated schedule! 6. Eisenhower Matrix Demystified Next let us unravel the secrets of the Eisenhower Matrix – a strategy so tactical, even James Bond might want to take notes. Prepare for a journey into the matrix; it's not about dodging bullets, but tasks. In-depth Explanation of the Eisenhower Matrix - Because It's Not a Code, It's a Quest The Eisenhower Matrix, named after the master multitasker himself, Dwight D. Eisenhower, is like a quest to discover the Holy Grail of productivity. Picture a 2x2 grid – simple, right? Now, let's sprinkle some magic on it. Quadrant 1 (Do Now): These are your dragons, your urgent and important tasks. No time for a coffee break; grab your sword and face them head-on. This is your battlefield, and victory brings the sweet taste of accomplishment. Quadrant 2 (Schedule): Ah, the golden meadows of not urgent but important tasks. Plant your seeds here, water them regularly, and watch your productivity garden flourish. It's like tending to a plant, but with less dirt under your fingernails. Quadrant 3 (Delegate): The land of the semi-urgent but not important tasks. Don't be a lone hero; delegate these to your trusty sidekicks. Batman had Alfred, and so can you. Quadrant 4 (Delete): The graveyard of time-wasting zombies. These tasks neither bite nor contribute. Delete, erase, wipe them from your schedule like you're swiping left on a dating app. Practical Tips on Applying the Matrix Effectively - Because We're All Task Ninjas in Training - The Jedi Mind Trick: Use the force – or in this case, your intuition – to decide which quadrant a task belongs to. Trust your instincts, young padawan. - The Sherlock Shuffle: Prioritize like Sherlock solving a case. What needs your immediate detective attention, and what can wait for the next episode? - The Gandalf Move: If a task is too big, break it into Hobbit-sized pieces. Gandalf didn't tackle Sauron in one go, did he? Remember, the Eisenhower Matrix is your sword in the battle of tasks. Wield it wisely, and you'll emerge victorious, with a crown made of completed to-dos! 7. Mindfulness and Task Management Let us transform your daily tasks into a Zen garden of productivity. Get ready to breathe in, breathe out, and channel your inner task whisperer. Incorporating Mindfulness into Daily Tasks - Because Tasks Deserve Hugs Too Mindfulness isn't just for yoga mats and mountain retreats; it's for your to-do list too. Imagine each task as a tiny Zen monk, patiently waiting for your attention. Before diving in, take a moment to acknowledge the task's existence – a virtual pat on the back. It's like giving your tasks a group hug before the productivity party begins. Techniques for Staying Present and Focused - Because We're Not Jedis, But We Can Master the Mind Trick - The Breathing Breakdance: Take a breather before tackling a task. Inhale confidence, exhale doubt. Picture your stress doing the moonwalk out of your mind. - The Panda Stare: Ever seen a panda focus on munching bamboo? Channel your inner panda – stare at your task like it's the most delicious bamboo shoot in the forest. - The Mindful Mingle: Give your tasks the VIP treatment. Focus on one at a time, like you're at a task party. Don't let FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) sabotage your Zen vibes. - The Zen Reminder Bell: Set a gentle reminder – a Zen gong, a bird chirp, or even a quacking rubber duck. When it chimes, it's your cue to come back to the present moment, task in hand. Remember, being mindful isn't about turning your to-do list into a meditation retreat. It's about infusing each task with a sprinkle of awareness and a dash of attention. So, my mindful mates, let's turn our tasks into a Zen masterpiece – one breath, one task, one moment at a time. 8. Automation for Efficiency Let us dive into the futuristic world of task automation – because who needs a personal assistant when you can have a robot sidekick? Get ready to witness the magic of productivity without breaking a sweat. Overview of Task Automation Tools and Methods - Because Robots Are the New Productivity Gurus Meet your new best friends – task automation tools. They're like wizards, turning mundane tasks into rabbits out of hats. From Zapier to IFTTT, these tools are the secret sauce to making your to-do list disappear faster than a magician's coin. The Copy-Paste Wizards: Imagine copying information from one app to another is like casting a spell. Automation tools can do it with a flick of their digital wands, sparing you the tedious copy-paste dance. The Reminder Genies: Tired of setting reminders manually? Let automation tools be your magical reminder genies. They'll pop up exactly when needed, like a friend texting you the pizza delivery has arrived. The Social Media Sorcerers: Automate your social media posts like a social media sorcerer. Schedule your tweets, posts, and updates while you're sipping your favorite potion – I mean, coffee. How to Leverage Automation Without Losing Personal Touch - Because Robots Need a Bit of Heart Too Now, you might be thinking, "But won't automation make me seem like a robot?" Fear not, my human friend! Here's how to keep the personal touch intact: - The Customization Charm: Personalize your automated messages. Add a touch of your personality, like sprinkling glitter on a robot to make it sparkle. Your recipients will appreciate the effort. - The Check-In Hug: Use automation to check in on your tasks, but don't forget the human follow-up. It's like having a robot vacuum clean your house – it does the heavy lifting, but you're still the master of the domain. - The Emoji Enchantment: Emojis are the modern-day hieroglyphics. Use them liberally to inject some emotion into your automated messages. It's like giving your robot a smiley face – suddenly, it's friendlier. - The Surprise Spell: Occasionally break the automation routine with a personal touch. It's like throwing a surprise party for your tasks. Everyone loves a good surprise! So, my efficiency sorcerers, embrace the automation magic but keep the human touch alive. Your tasks won't even realize they're being handled by a digital wizard – they'll just marvel at how effortlessly you juggle it all. 9. Pomodoro Technique: Time Management with a Twist Let us unravel the mysteries of the Pomodoro Technique – the time management hack that's more tomato than time. Ready to turn your workday into a series of mini tomato fiestas? Let's dive into the saucy world of productivity! Understanding the Pomodoro Technique - Because Tomatoes Aren't Just for Salads The Pomodoro Technique isn't a fancy pasta dish; it's a time management method that makes your tasks as ripe as a juicy tomato. Here's the recipe: - Set a Timer (Pomodoro): Pick a task, set a timer for 25 minutes (a.k.a. one Pomodoro), and work on it until the timer rings. It's like a productivity cooking show, but with less drama and more focus. - Take a Short Break: Ding! Time's up. Take a short break – 5 minutes to be exact. Stretch, dance, or practice your dramatic Oscar acceptance speech. This break is your intermission. - Repeat and Add Marinara: After four Pomodoros, treat yourself to a longer break – around 15-30 minutes. It's like letting your tomato sauce simmer to perfection. The secret sauce here is the focused burst of work followed by a sprinkle of break time. It's like a pizza-making assembly line for your tasks, and you're the master chef. So, my tomato tamers, grab your kitchen timers and get ready to Pomodoro your way to task-taming greatness. Before you know it, your to-do list will be as organized as a well-stocked pantry. Click here to view detailed article on Pomodoro 10. Task Management for Teams Hey team superheroes! Let’s dive into the dynamic world of team task management – where tasks are like villains, and you, my friend, are the avenger. Grab your capes, because we're about to unleash some teamwork wizardry! Strategies for Managing Tasks in a Team Setting - Because Avengers Have a Plan In the team universe, coordination is the superpower that gets tasks done faster than the Flash on an espresso binge. Here are some strategies to lead your team to victory: - The Avengers Assembly: Gather your team for a quick huddle. Discuss tasks, priorities, and potential roadblocks. It's like planning a superhero mission, but with less spandex. - The Task Delegation Dance: Distribute tasks like superhero assignments. Consider each team member's strengths – after all, you wouldn't ask Hulk to finesse a delicate negotiation. - The Daily Stand-Up Shuffle: Hold brief daily stand-up meetings. Everyone shares their progress and challenges. It's like a team dance-off, but with updates instead of moonwalks. Collaboration Tools and Communication Tips - Because Even Batman Needs a Bat-Signal - The Slack Signal: Use collaboration tools like Slack for real-time communication. It's like sending out the Bat-Signal when you need your team to assemble pronto. - The Trello Tactic: Trello is your superhero HQ for task tracking. Visualize tasks, move them through stages, and feel the satisfaction of checking off completed missions. - The Zoom Zinger: Virtual meetings on Zoom? Make them engaging. Use superhero backgrounds, share screens like a tech wizard, and keep meetings shorter than Spider-Man's witty comebacks. - The Email Evasion: Dodge the endless email onslaught. Read the full article

[problematicpervertpod]

recs on recs on recs

Yaoi/Manga I’m reading/have read. Please support the artists on official websites. If you have recs or want to chat about any of these get in my messages right the fuck now my dudes. Also spoilers, also this probably doesn’t make sense to anyone but me, also I think I’m funny sorry in advance.

Dangerous Convenience Store

Tags: Ongoing, self aware lead for the most part, gangs, smut, love triangle, possessive, not rapey, seme is like the fucking hulk compared to uke, college, age gap, good art, muscular bodies, seme is adorable/romantic in sp chapters, sexual awakening, meeting the gang (in two ways!), FAINTS OF CUTENESS/HOTNESS, the memes after every chapter got me gagged, HAHE hahahahahahahahahaha, OMG DO I GET SOME CNC?! (update: short lived), we stan a vocal man (Ahjussi), thigh fucking, my mans be like my thighs hurt fuck my ass instead DECEASED, ass smacking, these memes are so good god damnit, rimming

8/10, I live for Ahjussi (Am I spelling this wrong..)

The New Employee 

-love love love

Tags: ongoing, we stan supportive boyfriends, healthy relationship, boss/employee, smut, office setting, good art, 10/10 will re-read, muscular bodies

Love Shuttle

Tags: completed, ABO, enemies to lovers, possessive, coworkers, fake relationship, strong omega, the art sucks but I like the story, art gets better after the 1st season, alphas eyes change colors when happy/anxious, muscular bodies, 7/10, update 10/10 art is meh but fml this storyline is basic af in the best way and it’s the fluff/smut I need, when you’re caught by the folks *cringe*

Hold Me Tight

Tags: ongoing, boss/employee, bodyguard, gio can’t feel heat until felix comes along, uke is strong af, horny bastards, smut, possessive, tragic childhood, moving in together right away, rich seme, felix in a bunny costume though *heart eyes*, dialogue is great, rape in a technical sense but the vibe is written like both characters are all good after? Ex. hospital scene…dub con, ART IS GREAT, hand holding during sex, 10/10 will re-read, muscular bodies

Yours to Claim 

Tags: ongoing, love triangle, Dom/sub dynamics, smut, main is big switch energy, reincarnation, jealousy, manipulative, possessive, self aware lead for the most part, toxic af, GREAT ART, college, rich semes, 10/10 will re-read and not even finished, SONOFABITCH that cliff hanger!! Season 3 come thruuuu (I have to wait until November? *cries* BUT MAH LOVE TRIANGLE!!, I want a THROUPLE GOD DAMN IT

The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Tags: obsessed with this story, will the incense burner scenes make it?? No tags because I'll never forget this one haha wangxian 5ever, send me all fanfics/fan art you have about this story, love Dark Wangji, Jadecest, ABO/omegaverse, Bottom Wangji/Top Wei Ying, and honestly anything regarding this fandom

Bj Alex

Tags: completed, great art, 11/10 will re-read, cam boy, fanboy, seme is an asshole, uke is so sexy, jealously, rich seme, enemies to lovers kind of?, CHANWOO IS MY BOY FOR LIFE, Chanwoo MD supremacy, BDSM (like really really), fuck I love Chanwoo, college students, rich seme, emotional rollercoaster, uke soft body, mean seme, college life, that one nosy bitch ass guy trying to expose my boys needs to fuck right off, seme split/fake personality, dub con 

Anti PT

Tags: ongoing, 11/10 re-readable, porn with feelings, love triangle, jealousy, attempted non-con, personal training wink wink, main love interest is actually the best, second male lead is a god damn creep, first time, smut, great art, sex addict/constantly horny uke, I WANT A HWI, 

Related: https://www.anime-planet.com/manga/anti-pt/recommendations 

Payback

Tags: ongoing, both are psychopaths tbh, revenge, gangs, uke sells himself to seme, violent seme, entertainment industry, brunette supremacy, what this motherfucker gonna do? hehe , great art, muscular bodies, dead dove do not eat, my mans must be GOOD looking/animal magnetism cause everyone losing their fucking minds, okay this is a comedy I’m dying, he tried to scare him with wanting to be a top but my psycho said REVERSEUNO BITCH I’M A VERSE (wait jk apparently *sigh*), anonymous masked sex (sad n’ kinky)

My Suha

Tags: ongoing, wow this gets dark, possessive af like holy shit, terrible people all around uke, rape, boss/employee, office politics/family politics, smut, characters that are punchable, dead dove do not eat, *velociraptor noises*, avoided this for a while but I’m back because nothing can be more emotionally devastating than Banana Fish, TIE HIM UP, FUCK HIS FACE ALKSJD:ASKD, FUCK SUHA UR SO HOT that dirty talk though YAS, glad I picked this back up lmao, GOD DAMN IT just when the package arrived then this red head fucker *screams*

Shame Application aka Dirty Vibration

Tags: completed, friends to lovers, model seme, cute af uke, love triangle, entertainment industry, smut, kink, all kinds of sex everywhere, realized feelings, mutual pining, jealousy, rich seme, blonde seme, big brother 1984 always watching, 10/10 would re-read, porn with plot, they were roommates!, ~straight~ seme, first times, great art, remembering some cringe but considering the story it’s par for the course

Will You Subscribe

Tags: ongoing, season 1 completed, enemies to lovers, cam boy, office politics, boss/employee, hiding a secret, public sex, stalkers/creepy men, emotionally stunted characters, mutual pining, idiots in lust, lingerie company, slut shaming, jealousy/possessiveness, season 2 bebeh, HOLDING HANDS *velociraptor noises*, LMAO okay my mans is not THAT old how tf does he not know netflix and chill, BUNNY COSTUME (quickly becoming my new fav trope in manga, A+ gang), oh we stan a good boy, wtf is wrong with wanting to do cam work, ‘I wish my marks could become permanent’ *omegaverse wink*, *works for lingerie company* *doesn’t understand where bf gets sexy costumes* like wut kind of fuckery…, cross dressing ftw, roleplay, classic BL miscommunication trope

Hyperventilation

Tags: completed, high school crush, unrequited love, mutual pining, smut, quickie (short story), class reunion, apparently furry with the extra chapter turning my man into a bunny but c'est la vie! https://myreadingmanga.info/korean-bl-animation-hyperventilation-engsub/ this is the animation of the same story, different endings but same in tone (this site is spammy AF but the English subs are so hard to find for this) 8/10 

Unmei no tsugai ga omae da nante

Tags: only one bed, ABO, office setting. Coworkers, enemies to lovers, competitive, equality in the omegaverse, dubcon, real dicks and not lightsabers, fated pair, art is cute af 8/10

K’s Secret

Tags: buckle up buttercup, dead dove do not eat, angst, pining, somnophilia, dub con, non con, boss/employee, manipulative, stalking, forced relationship, tragic childhood background, weird art but gets better,  uke: don’t threaten me with a good time but seriously stop threatening me, possessive & obsessive, seme is like the fucking hulk compared to uke, wow were going full psycho stalker hm?, dating a narcissist is all fun and (mind)games, con non con… ? honestly who tf knows, domestic!, OW MY HEART, the t/n WAP note sent me, ch 51 translated by gen z, do special ep= furry? Wait there’s a maid costume, bunny costume, directors friends keeping it real, rough translations 8/10

Enthusiasm

Tags: ongoing, dead dove do not eat, uke buys seme, masc boys, muscular bodies, fight club, master/slave, rich uke, revenge, real dicks not lightsabers, rough sex, cuckholding, daddy issues, suicide, wow the end of ch 5 punched a hole in my heart, penile implant life,  rough translations makes the storyline wonky, nvm back to lightsabers *star wars noises*, HAD ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY I CAN NOT, shibari, possessive, wait this is cute *velociraptor noises*, angst, no kithes for you “bestie”, OBSESSED, honestly choke him pupper, STAY THE NIGHT ALKSDJA:SLDKJAS:LKDJA:SLDKj, problematic but I’m riding for these two, 

Ichimai Goshi Fetish

Tags: completed, short, fetishes DO start in childhood don’t they *ruminates*, author: describes ML as a beautiful 2D character meanwhile: ML IS 2D character, fellas is it gay to kiss the homies?, “real dudes don’t interest me” is a MOOD, comedy, jealousy, college setting, dialogue is A+, not lightsabers but not dicks either, first time, when you’re fucked so good you think you’ve died, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4uEq5Nx6ko, hero/villain roleplay. Fluff n smut 10/10

My Purrfect Boss

Tags: completed, tooth rotting fluff because blondie is so FUCKING cute little sensitive soul, golden retriever boyfriend, pure comedy, DECEASED, MY MAN JUST DID THE SLOW BLINK, office setting, boss/employee, ~wasted~ (red dead redemption meme),  FFS SO CUTE, he put a ring on it right away beyonce would be proud af, he protecc he attack but most importantly he hit it from the back, jealousy, honeymoon phase of dating, the ex is a snake (update: oh wow literally), I’m picking up abuse/PTSD vibes based on how Kang reacts to his ex :(, classic BL miscommunication plot, immediately no meme audio (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6XWSGfYnps) ,  I WILL STRAIGHT UP MURDER CHA WTF!!!!!!, gang rape, spiked with drugs that force heat, me rn:*screaming/rage*, psychotic ex/abuser, HE PROTECCC, actual relief after that scene jesus fuck, okay YES kings I see you, okay this is giving me cuteness aggression, hi yes I’d like to adopt a cat and a dog please 9/10

Following Namsoo to the Bathhouse

Tags: completed, same author as, “My Purrfect Boss”, A+ comedy once again, JUNIOR, gay awakening, “fap myself to death” DEAD, facial expressions are ridic, my minds telling me no but my body, my bodyyyy’s telling me yaaaaa, ya boy is literally losing his mind over this, actual lightsabers lmao, FLUFF, permasmile, 6969, THINKS THEY’RE GOING TO EAT RAMEN, dense gay, own your skin wtf okay hannibal calm down, everyone is officially cray,  ah I also am barfy when drunk, denial really is something hm, classic BL miscommunication plot, when people pleasing too far, happy ending 🥺🥰, side story: our crazy gets his very own crazy (ashton Kutcher from spread vibes), public sex, sex sparkle 9/10

Alien in my Closet

Tags: ongoing (maybe completed but def ongoing on the site I use), not rapey at all?? You’d think it’s impossible in this medium ffs, anti pt vibes, cute art, fluff ‘n smut, red head!!, they were roomates!, sex toys, bsdm, D/s (brat)dynamic or maybe owner/pet, bondage, *tiffany hadish voice* this is noiceeee, con humiliation/degradtion, SANTA CLAUS, edging, marking, one lotus please (he’s clearly read the 4 agreements and karma sutra), con non con, exhibitionism, the wrist thing stays on people, Katoptronophilia,  roleplay, is it stalking when you bring your friends?, lotus: welcome home cheater, the chin on the head thing gives me cuteness aggression, the twins are my favs, when ur crush vanilla af 😭, haesung: experiment on me daddy, no dick until halfway through/fingering supremacy, bedroom sessions has me gagged, voyeurism, wait they haven’t kissed this whole time I forgot (audio: https://www.tiktok.com/@ryley/video/6976701880277748997?lang=en), sunbae is sus, YES FINALLY A FUCKING SWITCH COUPLE AKJSDHALKSJDHASKLJDHALS KJDALKSJD (update: sort of), there’s a missed opportunity for an anal probe joke, damn it okay maybe sunbae is chill, 3 musketeers, my heart*implodes*, *velociraptor noises*, 12/10 would re-read such fluff my heart 

On Doorstep

Tags: completed, age gap, reese has ptsd, jimmy going from 0 to 100, jimmy really got down on his knees at work, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) deepest part you say, real dicks, ride him like a rodeo, quickie/short story, porn with plot

Gorani Jeon

Tags: ongoing, omegaverse, no alpha though, animal hybrid, art is beautiful like it's drawn on paper not a screen, 40 inch weave yours came in a pack, historical (non-modern), lord send me a sexy man pls, the memes after each chapter are golden, taking the phrase licking wounds literally, is that an eggplant or are you just happy to see me hehe, ahhh so inhibitors do exist here, vertical 69, here lays Bau fucked to death by Ran, WHY HE TOUCHING MY MAN, these chickens are dope, stomp on his dick, that’s what I call a happy meal, fucked right out the front door I’M DEAD, mpreg, i need a tiger+mountain god spin off (whoops dad/son my bad), slice of life, cute fluff 8/10

Room to room

Tags: completed, college setting, A+ dialogue, absurd size difference, unrequited love,  sexsomina, dubcon, angst, death by a thousand cuts emotionally, insecurity, body envy, pining, friends to lovers, they were roommates!, homophobia, sexual assault, PTSD, gays in denial, the tattoo 🥺 ow my heart, truly this is 90% smut, “going from unrequited love to fwbs is shittier than I expected”, dowan *bad blood by t swift* when he sees garam, ch 22garam reminds me of my ex and that’s not a compliment, I’m not gay but my boyfriend is vibes, triflers need not apply, spanking, 😭😭😭😭😭 my heart hurts, is anyone getting a bit of a puppy play vibe? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vni9ZWmDXis, handcuffs, lots of head we stan, dowan’s gotta a touch of a foot thing or maybe body worship thing, asdlfgkjs ;dlkfgjsd;flkgj;sdflkgj;sdlfgjs;d/gkdf SO CUTEEEEEEEEEEE, roleplay. They broke the bed no use of crying over spilled milk ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), side stories delivering man in uniform and sex toys AND puppy, asdlkjaslfkasdjfl;askdfjasdf the shirt thing is so hot, watersports, I take it back this is 98% smut 9/10

Mistake Lover

Tags: completed, when ur bff is back on their BS, love triangle, coworkers, i swear all these ukes look the same to me at this point (which is very cute), GE!!!! (wangxian flashbacks), wait no smut?.... Paused

Yagi to ookami no hatsujou jijou

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, literally on my reading list because a comment said “nice cock 10/10”hahahaha, animal hybrids, scifi/aliens, me during chapter one: am I a furry? No. Am I? Relevant audio https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=noJNIqvDfoo, hotties when human GOD DAMN, bi king, okay I stan this girl changing gears take your opportunities honey!, does blondie have a tinder or how is this happening? (update: called it), feminization, dubcon/noncon, marking, heats, idk about 10/10 cock but not lightsabers, translation is ruff (get it?), a yankee hahaha, literal wound licking, googles chimera, *claps* yes king selfish call his ass out, tail holding caaaayoooot, not that isn’t usually copious amounts of cum but really this is a lot 8/10

Make Me Bark

Tags: completed, $250 a month rent?? *cries in Californian*, god damn it these grey haired 2D men are really hot fml, “next months rent is a looming concern but I hope it’ll get better” followed by apartment on fire is how I feel about reality, rare characters that smile way more than they frown, sex toys, kink, puppy play, owner/pet dynamic, sugar daddy/baby, college setting, harness, muzzle, leash, tail plug, shirt thing!!, soaked briefs, playing barbie IRL, omg meet cute at the adult store, intercrural sex, possessive/jealousy, ah fuck yes I saw this panel on IG but it didn’t have the source but now hehe, whipping, choking, spanking, *bookmarks*, simp city, childhood friends, side couple cute af, yeonsoo: sorry I’m an anti romantic, size queen, mens lingerie, domestic, mutual pining,  these bestie pairings are *chefs kiss*, skinny but muscular bodies/no ridiculous size differences, “does he have a big dick?” “probably” “well tell him to come” GAGGED AJKSDHALSKDJHA this dialogue pure comedy, exhibitionism, human auction, maid costume, men in heels, topping in a dress, girl at the bus stop HAHAHA, ffs this is so cute, side stories: it’s a small world afterall, dynamic role reversal, pink haired boy is guru, SCREAMING AKDJA:SLDKJA:LKDJA:LSDKJLAKDJA:LDJAL:SKDJASLKDJA:SLKDJLAKSDJLASDJ:LASJD:ALSKDJASL:DJ:ASLJDPUTARINGONIT!!!! 11/10 

Gurume no fukurami

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, food fetish, feeding fetish, age gap, throuple-eqsue? There’s 3 people involved, paused ch 1 pg 30

Under the Green Light

Tags: ongoing, thank you IG for rec’ing this, brunette supremacy, neurodivergent?, lmao @hag, this statue is everything I wonder if it’s based on a real piece?, we went from talking art to being pinned to the ground REAL quick, translations rough but not as rough as my mans here, draw me like one of your french girls vibe, sass master, these dicks are ridiculously huge which is saying something for this genre, i love a verse/switch, “first time he’s asked someone to stop so his self-esteem is hurt” HAHAHAHA, stealing bae’s shirt, facials galore, car sex/public sex, jin not into praise kink clearly, sort of slut shaming jealousy, marking

Walk on Water

Tags: completed, for being about porn it’s not that smutty (i take it back), “don’t even think about running away” got me like https://giphy.com/gifs/VABbCpX94WCfS, actual dicks (lightsabers later must be the cleaners not the OG), muscular bodies, blonde seme, brunette uke, k mcqueen is everything, honestly haven’t loved a couple this much since chanwoo x MD and I LOVE THEM, jealousy, orgasm denial, the angles/frames of the art in this are insane (11/10), emotional intimacy CUTENESS HASIHDLASKDHJLAKSJDH, i wanna lick lick lick you from your head to your toes, dirty talk A+, bestie you turned out to be Judas you judgy fuck how dare you touch my man, Ryan is 50 shades of fucked up bb needs therapy, Chang and yeowoons sexual tension is *chefs kiss*, I ship it/all my ships sailing, woof non con but expected tbh, YEAH BABY YEAH *Austin powers voice*, fml I don’t want this story to end, meeting the Hets ™ would make me nervous too, spiderman kith, mirror sex sjkadfhasldjkfh, 34+35, JOI but with a partner? Not D/s, promises are made to broken hehe, that feeling when you understand the title, omg the fan art is so cool!! 15/10 would re-read seriously I can’t explain how well the artist used angles/how she portrayed the scenes was fucking MASTERFUL

Woof Wolf

Tags: that's my best friend (saweetie), red heads, werewolf au, college setting, students, shoot a shot in your mouth while I'm riding, facials, marking

Sexual Awakening of an Ex Delinquent 

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, sexual coercion/non con/dub con, tiddies, bondage, nipple play, edging/orgasm denial, candy in ass wow, food kink, kink in general, rich seme working class uke, lightsabers,  big dick Jesus fuck, exhibitionism, public sex, men's lingerie, Blondie is a sweet baby angel, self hatred/homophobia, sexual narrating that has me like oof 😣 that's not how this works but okay, the sweet spots thing is a great line, man is a slave to the sweets, lmao at the meme at the end of ch 9 fucking facts, kidnapping plot, rapey guys all around this story, tattoo/back story reveal has me like *nods head yes*, my throats broken has me gagged, crazy amount of sfx noises that distract from the art (I really appreciate cleaners I realize), first times, rushed ending feels,  would rate 6/10 not terrible but probably won't read again.  

With Your Tail Yes

Tags: ongoing, IG rec, quickie/short story, on man brunette looks EXACTLY like a different character by another artist like for real duplicate, home boy pulled Elle Wood’s Bend n Snap and we are HERE FOR IT, lingerie/cross dressing, okay compilation of short stories, great artwork but wtf these are far too short (maybe uploaded wrong..?), *immediately makes deal with the devil because yum*, ah okay previews THEN stories, human animal hybrid situation, lightsabers, fucking imagine your crush delivery the sex toy you ordered online HAHA *dies*, buys toys because men ain’t shit is a VIBE, you know he’s always wearing matching sets because he’s 100% that bitch, dub con/non con, knotting (unexpected), exhibitionism, public sex, good ol’ fashion blackmail to get your lover to stay with you trope, sexual assault/attempted rape, victim blaming, shibari, leashes, D/brat dynamic sort of, copious amounts of cum, lube? What lube?, marathon sex, first time, 75 hours?? Immediately no meme, 7/10 mostly for art/concepts but not execution

Heat and Run

Tags: ongoing, IG rec, omegaverse, friends to enemies to lovers, multiple couples as main to sides then sides to mains, my heart dropped because I thought the first sex scene was incest but then realized I’m mixing up all the characters derp, dense gays, this is america (the shooting comment WOOF reality feels bad man), blondes have more fun, real dicks, dubcon/CNC dealers choice, mutual pining, idiots in love, big alpha energy BDE, there are moments I feel Hayoung on a spiritual level and not sure that’s a compliment hahaha, orgasm denial/edging, istg if he bonded without Hayoung permission *jenna marbles BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YOU BETTAH NOT*, also I was hoping the idol was him but realizing it’s probs his sis, *deep sigh*, BDIRL, wow racism, oh no oh no no no no no meme audio, listen everyone needs to get into therapy to break that generational trauma is all I’m saying (not excusing abuse at all, trauma isn’t a free pass), NO ONE WANTS TO PLAY A GAME WITHOUT KNOWING THE RULES :ALKSDHJALKSDJA:SLKDJTRUE, matthew singing bo burnham: I’m problematic *background singers ‘he’s a problem!’*, i ship it yolo, JAEHO STAN (no means no!), mpreg, god damn it I am so worried about him getting roofie and the party scene hasn’t even started ABO WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TOO ME, OH THANK JAEHO, dayummmm that clapback was real fuck him UP, me clapping: MARK HIM MARK HIM, GOD DAMN IT WITH THESE ONGOING FUCKING CLIFF HANGERS FML, marked via knotting? Okay that’s new, but also like normal marking I think, fucking til bottom pees trope

Heaven Officials Blessing

Animated series season 1 complete. Live action currently filming (same director as Untamed too UGH SO HAPPY)

Tags: ongoing, same author as my fav ever MDZS, just finished season 1 animated on netflix and can no longer avoid this because I LOVE THEM, all the memes on IG make sense now, Prince voice: Dearly Beloved (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXJhDltzYVQ) we are gathered here today to dive deeper into a fandom I will never escape, ART IS AMAZING (https://tenor.com/view/incredible-talented-lady-brilliant-gaga-gif-14857187), group chats are always chaotic tbh, wait a minute meme audio: bride = bottom? How tf did I not get that the first time round *sigh* always hoping for a verse couple, the asst. Boys I ship hard, the sass, fuck this is going to just be pure angst isn’t it *straps in, has fluffy manga queued*, even if no smut 11/10 gege porn, not subtle, god FUCK this ART IS SO FUCKING GOOD THE TALENT skjas;ldkfja;, 🥺, traumatic cliff moment *mdzs flashbacks*, HC smirk is my new favorite thing, no fucking but lots of touching, size difference, horror, gore, wuxia, great side characters, my ear feels tingly too lmao, SOMEONE BETTER GET THESE MF SNAKES ON THIS MF PLANE (cliff), umbrella moments got me uwu, gimme at least didi pleaseandthankyou, FUCK I LOVE THIS ARTIST she keeping us WELL fed with these extras DAYUM, wind/earth master ship please sail, CALL ME DADDY IM DEAD, HC has LWJ energy like you are not qualified to talk to me LOL, WAIT this totally counts as there was only one bed trope, also I’m already excited about omegaverse ff (send me recs please please please)

4 week lovers

Tags: ongoing because apparently I want to torture myself, mutual pining/”unrequited love”, college life, friends to lovers, blackmail ur crush into sex trope, public sex, I was going to tag possessive body language but possessive in a general sense apparently (starting strong yessss), sure jan @unrequited love dialogue, THEY WERE ROOMMATES *cackles*, sus haha, rough translation, pure comedy, shirt thing!, casual abuse :( (back story, traumatic childhood), I’m getting TharnType vibes (but not quite…), that note is precious, cry during/after sex, great angles, dialogue A+ 

Burlesque Night

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, stripper/body guard, coworkers, lust at first sight, magic mike vibes, fridays = getting fucked on stage O-O, well that was traumatizing af, took a bullet, real dicks, LDR, CUTE, I’m not in love with you… sure jan, OH WOW MASTER dlksaj;alsdkja;lsdkja;sld, gay awakening/first time, the art detail is *chefs kiss*, disappointed but not surprised :( :( :(, we stan a yes and lover, shirt thing, still not sure wtf the vertical anus thing is but full circle moment haha, you know what fuck it I’d re-read this 9/10

My one and only cat

Tags: ongoing, cat hybrids, god damn it I’m totally in furrydom ffs, ah well here we go, idol hot = loneliness wahhh /s, so hot he literally transforms other beings, omg a cat cafe CUTE, fuck that cat is cute *so fluffy*, stalker status, comedy, real dicks, I think the uncle would be supportive/jealous even I hope they talk about it I’m dying to know his thoughts, big tiddies, if this ain’t the cutest shit FLUFF/SMUT, copious amounts of cum, ate it with the panties on, CAKE, xmas, his milkshakes bring all the boy(cats) to the yard, trifling bitch

Imitation Mate

Tags: completed, omegaverse, alpha x alpha. Class rivals YAS, childhood frans, enemies to lovers omg this is all the shit I want, manipulation 1000 but yolo I ship it

Mr. 100% Perfect

Tags: ongoing, so relatable, OCD?, hoarder, when I read the title I thought mental illness and I was right, masks ugh RELATABLE, getting back together w ex, woof sibling drama/manipulation, suicide attempt, omg their communication regarding the psycho is REFRESHING, OMG JEJU ISLAND I see it in every fucking kdrama ever but this is the first time I’ve seen it mentioned in a manga *hm* interesting, furry furry everywhere, eye contact, finished reading season 1 pause for an omergaverse cause, okay I’m back and season 2 starting STRONG #1 men are gross #2 mans just went right to a blowie while mf was trying to pee lmao i can NOT the germs barf, fuckboi extraordinaire stressing over a textback is *great*, that istg face is perfect, HYUNGGGG, hand on his heart OW MY HEART, vibe check LOL, here for this plot dev, END OF SEASON2 NOOOOOOOimnotready. Head bonks CUTE

The origin of species

Tags: ongoing, omegaverse, sex tape, blackmail, i already don’t like this teacher, size difference, ‘JUST DIE’ hahahahahaha, I’m in love with noona, wait Ahjussi means uncle/mister? Dangerous convenience store has a new meaning to me now, DECEASED @they won’t, copious amounts of cum, alcohol to have intimacy *sighs in early 20s*, also WTF THEY ARE FUCKING AND THERE’S NO PHERMONE STUFF! What’s the point of being ABO without smell *swaggy p meme???*, wait okay ch 11 it begins, stockholm syndrome but since childhood I’m fairly certain *looking at you teacher I don’t trust these mfs*, dubcon obviously, also the can’t be knotted thing has me *cardi b meme that’s weird that’s sus* obvs poor bb about to get preg af, five word horror story: I won’t hurt you again *why tf you lyinggggg why u always lyinggg meme*, white collar crime, what’s the point of a contract when there’s no actual choice

How to Chase an Alpha

Tags: ongoing, lowkey been avoiding this one not because I think it’ll be bad I just..idk the brain is a weird thing, page 2 and I love mains attitude fucking gagged sass me bb, starting with rough translation but it be that way sometimes, GROUNDS HIMSELF BY TOUCHING HIS BLACK CARD I CANTTT, pheromone city fuck it UP, MC is a MOOD, mutual pining, when u and bae both hire PI’s to get info on each other, R-E-S-P-E-C-T, shirt thing, fucking chuffed about the rival fucking bring it, funny art, cheated on ugh mah heart I saw it coming and it still hurt, pure comedy this airport scene is so funny to me wtf, LDR, good ol murica fuckboi, LOVE HIM RIDE FOR UR MAN/MORALS, liams a little rapey rapist hm? No one’s ever said no… well being flooded with pheromones isn’t consent my dude, istg liam = I love it when they struggle, obvs jealousy/possessive tag but such is ABO, cat suit, BUNNY suit, sexy costumes, god damn it I love them that proposal/mpreg so cute, imprinting AW, ugh baes fam is so cute I needed that bc I wanna strangle wooyoungs dad, THE SECETARY is my fucking fav never stops being A+, SEC+LIAM?? Here for it *i ship it*, FUCK SO CUTE 12/10 re-read, fluff n smut, excited for how to chase an omegaside story hyung needs love!, JINI is mood, sales king I’m dying, that collar is ~hot~ btw

Egoism

Tags: completed (because jesus I can’t with ongoing, theheartbreakTM), UPDATE FML THE HEART BREAK IS REAL also no smut, omegaverse, hey stepbro, starts with rape, possessive/jealousy (isn’t all ABO?), age difference (6years, alpha is younger *can I get hyung plz lord*), HYUNG, woof this dad SUCKS, child abuse, rape culture *sigh*, I wanna get jacked like rick and summer and beat tf out of the dad, me n my cat, TELL EM HONEY I love this MC, traitor indeed, beta x omega btw, fated pair, coercive sex, didi going to be his own demise, BREAKUP/TIME SKIP NO this is BL hell, the rona is mentioned in this, ALL I WANT IS TO HEAR YOUR STORY WAHHHHHHHHHH also YES MY SHIP IS GOING TO SAIL I CAN FEEL IT, okay honestly frustrating a bit but also liked it yah 7-8/10, won’t re-read unless I’m looking for hurt though cause the comfort is BRIEF

Yarichin bitch bu

Tags: ongoing, reading because I watched this anime after seeing it mentioned in the comment section of -im-being-harassed-by-the-sexiest-man-of-the-year, anime was 2 eps a fucking wild the way this is uploaded SUCKS, no reality porn what plot rape-y ridiculous and now I need to read the source apparently haha, I need to know much more about yuri and blue hair guy ASAP (they have the spin off*adds to list*), high school setting, smut, studentsxstudents/teachers, photography club my ass, sex toys, kinky, crossdressing, gay awakening, unrequited love, jealousy, fake relationship, two faced people, OCD, COMEDY, rich people problems, hoarder, inferiority complex, one bed, toono is a dumbass in this love triangle or denial might be a better word, they are cousins my dude stop shipping it (I say to both toono and myself LOL), I wanna see Yuri’s face laksdjf;aldskf, vibrator #18 line is fucking iconic, yaguchi is about to get real interesting (BPD?), lies/manipulation, oh toono you sweet summer child, YURI i can’t wit chu, wait did he just punch the student because he won’t kiss him or???, dubcon/noncon obvs, finally my verse couple but they’re not a couple (yuri/tamu), they all care about each other is a weird way awwww, love confessions to pet vibrator scene are ICONIC MY DUDES I CAN NOTTT, lowkey living for Yuri’s drooling at this point, Jimi gives me such bad second hand embarrassment, Yuri the switch verse bb I’ve been looking for need more!, internalized homophobia, blackmail, MIDDLE FINGER IN THE AIR YAS KING, the heartbreak of ongoing/hasn’t been updated in years

Yarichin bitch bu dj wa

Tags: not completed I think, years old though, see above you know what it is, so cute omg, FIRST KISS AW, degradation kink?, MY VERSE COUPLE I’ve finally found you, biting, choking, rough sex, sex toys, they had fun together for another two hours DECEASED

Fucked by my Best Friend

Tags: ongoing, friends to lovers, body swap, Porn what plot, cannon threesomes in past maybe??(MFF for sure but MMF??), beach life, revenge, he became a HOT woman so honestly get over it, sloppy seconds, first off you’re both sluts second lmao this is going to be wild hm?, fellas is it gay if you kiss the homies, classic did you cum guy jfc, that’s how you get preg dumbass, ah the joys of being a woman /s assault in der clrub, *DEEP SIGH* @ you almost being raped turns me on, YES TURNING BACK DYING, gender has nothing to do with this LOL but true. Also yes cannon threesomes/orgies, googles frotting, mans like narrating playtime, intecurial sex public sex, lingerie, this is the closest thing to straight manga I’ve read hahaha, THE SCIENCE OMG FUCKING RIDIC :you need a mass amount of semen within you SURE JAN, possessive. Objectification, she trying to fuck without Shion LMAO, 34+35, do you think he’s on r/nofap, dry orgasm honestly impressed with mans rn ngl, spit as lube, anal fingering, just helping the homies find their prostate, bottom shaming (disappointed but not surprised), bis/gays in denial smh, question if he has a wet dream will he turn into a woman?, shirt thing, lol at female orgasm =anal in switcharoos mind, paging doc perv, shion is enjoying dressing up hm? Same dude, biggest reality gap is believing shion got admitted to a college HAHA, bad anatomy all over the place dude, rui is a dedicated exhibitionist, HE SO TIGHT BECAUSE THERES NO LUBE team no lube over here apparently not even a courtesy spit, yandere territory sort of?, Mayu with the dick wet comment is *chefs kiss*, THE HEARTBREAK OF ONGOING WAHHH I can’t believe I read all this but I can? 8/10 problematic possessive porn

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Final Exams: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: you can't fail your Medieval Art and History final. You just can't.

wc: 1.3 k

tw: NSFW

A Grand 300 Celebration Fic

Your sighs are bothering him.

Geto is fully aware that you’re bored as you eye the clock in the classroom, but he can’t focus on his grading when you’re sitting there, wondering when the class will end while rubbing your thighs together anxiously.

It’s just the other students, you, and him today since the professor is out sick, and Geto’s the TA responsible for making sure the class took the final exam. But when you raise your hand - thus, catching his attention - he groans internally, knowing your question before you spoke it.

“Can we leave if we’re done early?” you wonder, closing your laptop. It was no secret that you were the professor’s favorite student, and if you had asked her, she would have said yes to your request. But Geto frowns, looking over his own laptop with a dissatisfied gaze.

“Ms. L/N, it appears that you failed the final. I would recommend taking it again.” The class is shocked into stillness, and you frown. There was no way you failed the final. You knew everything there was to know about the Baroque period, and no one could contest your vast knowledge of the different paintings and musical elements from that era. But Geto knew something you didn’t: you couldn’t see your score after you took the test. But he could.

He soaks in the crestfallen look on your face and turns back to entering the grades without another word. For the rest of the class, you took your time, reanswering each question and flipping through your notes eagerly, hoping to find the mistakes in your answers.

“How did I do this time?” you wonder, approaching his desk with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Ms. L/N, you’re rushing. I mean, these are easy answers… Take it again,” Suguru sighs, and you walk back to your row, confusion marrying your perfect features. He hated doing this to you, but he couldn’t just let you walk out of the class in that perfect skirt with your perfect legs.

Today, you would be the last to leave the class. And his office.

When the bell chimes, everyone in the class gets up to leave, but you stay behind, focusing on the questions with precision. You’ve even started muttering to yourself, which is something you only do when you’re trying to focus all of your energy on a task.

“Mr. Geto, can I have a few more minutes?” you ask as he’s packing his things up and about to leave the room without you.

“Come to my office and I’ll let you continue taking it there. They have another lecture in this classroom.” You follow him out into the hallway, remembering the winding path to the TA’s offices, and into his minimalistic office. He shuts the door behind you, and you take your place in the seat in front of his desk, opening your laptop again.

“I really can’t fail this,” you murmur. Any poor grade would drop you from an A to a B, and you couldn’t have that. Not as a freshman.

“Listen,” Geto mutters, sliding his glasses off. “You just need to go slower with these quizzes. I know Professor Yuki favors you, but you can’t rely on being the teacher’s pet all the time.”

“I’m not--”

“Besides, after the third try, you’ll have to put in a request for a retake, and that could take us a few days to accept.”

“Wait, what did I make this time?”

“A 69.”

“Huh?” You shoot up from your chair, and place your hands on the desk, frowning deeply. “I really can’t--”

“I do have something that might help you…” Geto rummages through his desk, looking for something specific. When he tosses the foil wrapper on the desk, you do a double-take, then look up at his face.

“Seriously?” He raises a brow, then turns to his computer screen.

“I mean, a full scholarship is a lot of money, y/n. I would think you’d be willing to do anything to keep it.”

“And what will you change my grade to if I do this?” you wonder, examining his face cautiously. He smiles slyly, his black eyes roaming over your chest.

“You’ll pass this class with an A-plus.”

Without any further questions, you strip down to your underwear and bra while Geto locks the door, undoing his tie and unbuttoning the top four buttons on his shirt as he walks back over to you. He cups your face with his large palm and kisses your cheeks tenderly before ghosting his lips over yours, then swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. He bites it, then wraps his hands around your back to unhook your bra quickly. It falls to the ground unceremoniously, and he takes one breast in each hand, tugging at your nipples, then palming them thoroughly.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he breathes, and you moan in response, wanting him to hurry up so you wouldn’t miss your chemistry lecture. But it seems he wants just a little more than a quickie as he pushes you down to your knees. He unbuckles his belt, and slides his pants down, revealing his erection in one smooth motion. When you take his length into your hands, you look up at him and lick down his shaft, making Geto shudder. “The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused is making me lose my mind.”

You hum and then take him into your mouth, feeling the smooth skin and veins against your wet tongue. You worked him into your mouth slowly, and when he reaches the back of your throat, he groans loudly, holding the back of your head gently as he fucks your face. “Fuck,” he breathes, and saliva trickles out of your mouth as he continues, the wet sounds making your cunt get warmer and slicker. You take one hand from his thighs and rub yourself over your panties, hoping you could get yourself off a little while he ravaged your throat. You breathe through your nose easily, and Suguru finally lets you go, pulling all the way out. A trail of spit follows from your lips to his cock and you inhale deeply, still rubbing away at yourself.

“Beautiful,” Suguru whispers, then pulls you up to a standing position and leans you over the desk. He rolls down your underwear and mutters, “Spread your legs.” You do so immediately and feel his fingers at your waiting entrance. “Pass me the condom, baby.” You obey, then rest your breasts on the cold wood of his desk, goosebumps running down your arms and legs. When he presses into you, you stifle a loud groan; the tension of him trying to work himself past your walls absolutely overwhelming. “That’s it…” he drawls, moving in and out of you lazily. Despite wearing a condom, you can feel every single ridge and bump of Suguru’s thick cock inside of you, and it’s driving you insane. You eagerly thrust your hips back, and he meets you halfway, holding your hips as you’re fucked into oblivion.

At some point during your session with the TA, you feel the familiar tingle of an orgasm about to rip through you, and your hands fly to your clit as he pounds into you. “I’m gonna…” you pant, and Suguru nods behind you, his hair coming loose and dangling around his face messily.

“I can feel it, baby. Go ahead.” Your knees buckle slightly as you give in to your unspoken desire, and he grabs your hips a little harder. “I’m right behind you,” he chokes out, then presses his lips together as he comes, shaking as his strokes slow to a gentle pulsating motion. After a moment of resting, he pulls out of you and takes the condom off, tossing it into the trash can and crumpling up a few papers to hide it. As he puts his clothes back on, you do the same, pushing your hair back and adjusting your shirt before going behind his desk and looking at the computer.

“Three one-hundreds,” you announce, and Geto shrugs.

“Hey, you said you wanted to roleplay.”

“But did you have to embarrass me in front of the whole class?” Suguru laughs, tying his tie back on.

“You said roleplay, babe. You get what you ask for.”

_____________________________________________________________ TAGLIST: @brownskinnedgirll @jotazinha @leanne-tamashi @amaris9 @vabybizzle @missbonekitty @fyotituti

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths

This is for the lovely @clydesducktape​ and her CDT celebration challenge. Congratulations on your milestone my darling! ❤️  

I thought I was just going to write a small blurb, but it got out of hand a little, oops. I also decided to try my hand in something else entirely, namely a whole new character. I hope it’s not rubbish.  

My picks: Mythical creature - Love Potion - Blind Date

Will Miller x f!reader (eventually if I can manage a chapter two of this)

Word count 2,1k

Warnings: Predatory behaviour, dangers of date rape drugs and drugging (nothing happens, don’t worry!), alcohol, magic, mythical creatures are known, strong tension. Please let me know if I missed anything! 

Chapter 2

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” A deep voice rumbles behind you just as you straighten your body to get back to your drink and continue your date. Your eyes widen, flitting between your drink still on its coaster, your date who looks like he’s about to sweat through his button-up and the stranger standing to your left, one huge hand hooked around his belt buckle and the other twisted outward a little, displaying his intricate tattoos. 

He looks calm on the outside, posture all relaxed as he holds your gaze for a moment before turning his eyes to your date and you can practically see them turn into ice and stone. You follow his gaze and take in your date, how the collar of his shirt looks a tad too tight and the perspiration gathering at his hairline. He’s very nervous for some reason, you think but remain silent, waiting for more information.  

The blond stranger nods towards your drink, sitting all innocent at the bar top, water pooling around it. “Saw him drop something in your drink as you were turned away.” Despite his calmness, the voice is laced with venom, the ice in his eyes burning as he regards your date with disdain. With slow, deliberate movement, he picks up your drink and gives it a small whiff. 

“Love potion.” Two words that turn your world upside down. 

It had been a blind date, set up by your co-worker who had assured you that their friend was good and kind and cute, when you first hesitated accepting the invitation. And it had been an okay date so far, if a little lacklustre in conversation. He’d talked more about himself and his work than engaging you in conversation during your two-hour in the bar together. You’d already given up on the idea of a second date, but tried to humor yourself and him by not cutting the date short even if only to please your co-worker, trying to at least make it work. 

But to hear he’d tried to lace your drink with love potion? Oh hell no. 

“Give me the drink,” You order in a low voice, holding out your hand for it. The blond man agrees, passing the drink to you and you bring it to your own nose, picking up the notes under the alcohol. Once you are certain the stranger is indeed right and you know exactly what the potion was supposed to do to you, you turn your body to look at your date fully. 

In a flash of a movement you tip the drink upside down and pour it down his crotch, ice and all. When he yelps and jumps up cursing, trying to salvage the light chinos, you stand up as well and push the empty glass into his chest, growling in his ear.

“You absolute fucker! Next time when you try to use a potion to make someone fall into bed with you, do it with someone who doesn’t study potions for a living. Or better yet, don’t do it at all.”  

With another push at the date, you step around him, not sparing him a second glance. Your mind is screaming for you to run, hide and maybe get shitfaced at home to avoid the humiliating feeling already creeping up your spine and you rush away out the door. 

The cold air hits you full force and you need to lean back towards the brick wall, trying to gather your shields and thoughts as your mind wanders into unsavoury grounds. Had it not been for the stranger looking out for you... Like called upon, the blond man steps into your eyesight, arms loose and his posture unthreatening even when he fills the air around him with restrained power. 

“Are you alright?” 

His deep rumble feels like balm against your bleeding wounds and you lift off the wall to fully look at him again. He is taller than you, his blond hair cropped short and his full beard trimmed close to his skin but showing how full it is nevertheless. His eyes search for signs in yours and you feel your mental shield drop a bit as you drown in his blue orbs. Your hand shakes by your side when you let out a soft sigh. 

“I’ll be soon. Thank you, for what you did. I didn’t even notice.”

“He was sneaky, using the moment you checked for your phone. I’m glad I caught it, it was very fast.”

“The phone!” You exclaim and dig hastily through your pockets to find the object in question. You turn the screen to him, showing the blank email notification still up on the phone. “The bastard had this all planned. I can’t believe it.” You shake your head in disgust, another wave of cold fear running inside your veins. 

“Do you wish to report him?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Unauthorized use of a Class B potion is a felony,” He points out casually and you have to nod at his words. It’s true and given that you could also smell the undertone of aphrodisiac potion in the drink as well tells you the man was either playing with fire combining these two potions together or had done it before and gotten away with it and he should be brought in for his offenses. 

“If only I hadn’t poured it down his pants. Now there’s only my word against his and who will believe a researcher over… whatever hell he is. I don’t even know if he is mundane or someone who practices the arts.” You feel dejected and upset at yourself. Even after all these years mingling with the supernatural you still don’t know all the clues you need to pick up upon to pinpoint someone.  

“Don’t worry, it’ll all turn alright. You have me as a witness, I have a pretty good idea on what he practices,” The stranger tells you, offering you a wry look. He holds out his hand and introduces himself as Captain William Miller, part of the Delta Force and you suck in a surprised breath. Delta is known all around as the elite of the elite, almost exclusively recruiting non-mundanes and mythicals into their ranks and if he’s made Captain within them, he must be at the top of the chain.

“You’d do that for me?” You manage to ask after introducing yourself. William, Will as he asks you to call him, give you a reassuring nod and you find yourself relaxing a little more. He steps closer and suddenly you feel tendrils of something wrap softly around you, offering you reassurance and protection. You find yourself leaning into the sensation, lowering your shields even further to enjoy them snake up your arms in soothing motions. 

Your eyes flip up to his and as they lock into place, you swear you see something red flicker in them for a second before the dark ocean-blue hue hides it. Almost like the opposite sides of a magnet, you are pulled closer to one another until your back is pressed against the wall again and he stands right in front of you. 

The tendrils are followed by his hand ghosting up near your bare arm as he cages you into the wall, one hand up over your head. “I don’t know what it is, but… Something draws me into you,” Will murmurs as his lips nearly graze your forehead. “I feel it too,” You answer him, your eyes falling shut as the sensation on your skin turns from soothing to electrifying. Something powerful hums between your bodies, just waiting to claim its prize.

He doesn’t touch you and you don’t touch him, both of you knowing unconsciously that the second you do, all bets are off. Your body calls to him and he is clearly having a tough time not answering the song. You can see how he struggles to keep his composure, his eyes flickering to your lips and your neck and back to your eyes. One of his hands curls into a fist as he breathes your scent in, his nostrils flaring at the combination of your natural musk and the bar you’ve left behind. 

You struggle against the pull too, trying to gather your shields again but it’s so hard when you want to drop them completely for him. You desperately want him to swoop down and just kiss you, erase everything and anything that is not him. It makes your head spin, the intensity of it all and you are glad of the wall offering you support and grounding you so you won’t fly away.    

“Allow me to take you home and come pick you up tomorrow? We’ll go and report the creep first thing but now I need to know you are safe. I need to keep you safe,” His voice grows husky, tender and possessive and you shiver under his whispered words. 

“Please,” you mumble, unable to deny his plea. With great effort Will pushes himself off you and steps away a little, your head clearing as the distance grows between both of you. It seems to have a similar effect on him as the hue in his eyes lightens. You can still feel his presence tingling in the base of your skull and you are already itching to explore your books to find more about this unexpected and intensive connection you seem to share with the handsome Captain.  

He gestures towards his car and you walk side by side to it. As the engine roars into action, you can feel the air get thicker as you are once more in close proximity. You want to open the seat belt and touch him, sink your fingers into his hair and feel the beard scratch along your chin and neck. One look at his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel tells you that you are not alone in your thoughts and it makes heat flare up inside you. 

By some miracle, or his ironclad will, he gets you home, following your quiet instructions to a tee. As you step to the curb, you feel the intensity simmer down again and file it away for later research. You turn to the open window after closing the door and offer your thanks for the ride and for catching the would-be predator. He has one hand still on the wheel anchoring himself in place, and just as you are about to turn around and walk to the front door, he speaks out your name.  

“After you’ve filed the report, can I, uh, can I take you out for a coffee?” Will sounds almost bashful as he speaks. Is he afraid you’ll deny him now that your mind is a bit clearer? You know he felt the magnitude of whatever it was surrounding your bodies earlier too. You can clearly see the remnants of it on his body pulled so tight, the muscles tense and poised to pounce under his Henley. You chuckle softly before offering an affirmative. 

“I would love that.” 

“Good! Great. Wonderful.” Will coughs to hide his eagerness. “I’ll pick you up in the morning then?” Now it’s your turn to nod, before bidding him good night. You feel his eyes tracking your every move as you walk away from the car, every cell in your body rebelling against the movement of your legs. It takes all of your concentration not to rush back but to finally open the door and step inside.

The lock clicks into place and you sigh as you rest your forehead against the wood, hoping you’d invited him in. But for now, this is for the best, you remind yourself. You have some research to do. You need to get to the bottom of this connection before anything rash can happen. No matter how much you wish for it to. 

Hours later you step into your bedroom and a soundless whisper calls to you from the window. You walk next to it and push the curtain to the side a little. Will’s car is still parked on the same spot where he left you and even if you can’t see his face, you see his figure in the front seat, reclining a little as he’s gotten comfortable.

He’s going to be there all night, you realize suddenly. It should feel creepy, but it only fills you with warmth. He’s going to keep you safe, just like he said.    

[wevegottogetaway]

El Patrón

I’m so excited to finally be posting this piece. I’ve been working on it for the past few days and it’s been consuming my mind. If you like angst, smut, art student Harry, and great plot twists, this story is for you, so buckle up, cause you’ve got 13700 and then some waiting for you! And on that note, I don’t thing I have many words left in my brain... so, hope you enjoy xx

TW: smut, fool language

After her first day back to classes, Y/n is not surprised to see Harry Styles’ lanky frame standing behind the bar of Bottom’s Up. She hoped that he would bugger off to work some place else but alas, all her summer prayers were unanswered. For yet another semester, she would have to endure bartending by his sides, trying with all her might not to jab a corkscrew at his throat every time he opened his gob. Granted, she could have switched jobs herself, but the pay is too good to turn down and the bar sits literally right around the corner from her place; a match made in heaven if you ask her. Besides, she’s been mastering the art of tuning out the insufferable green-eyed prick for two years now, so what’s one more? Of course, knowing it is likely to be the last - having just kicked off the final year of her psychology major - makes the news easier to stomach. And with any luck, the fool did some sort of soul-searching over the break and came back a changed man.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her delightful presence again. Knew you couldn’t stand to live without me, y/l/n." Harry greets her with a smirk as he looks up from his phone. 

Well, some much for change, but luck has never been on y/n’s side anyway; she knew it was wishful thinking to entertain the idea of a pleasant or even tolerable Harry. "Shut it, Styles. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit," she quips back and goes straight to the employee’s locker room to dispose of her stuff and swap her top for one bearing the bar’s logo. Once done, she takes a brief look in the tattered mirror still hanging by the door to readjust her ponytail, before joining her co-worker behind the counter. The bar is rather quiet for now, clock having not chimes 6pm yet, but y/n expects the place to be soon crawling with students drinking the classes’ return off their mind. 

The next few minutes are spent in unexpected peaceful silence, y/n prepping for the upcoming rush while Harry idly sits by, not lifting a single finger to help her out. Admittedly, he’s completed all his pre-shift duties during the last hour, but y/n doesn’t think it warrants the smug look painted on his face as he watches her battle a jar of olives with an old opener and  a concentrated frown. So peaceful silence was a bit of a stretch, maybe.

Then to make matters worse he decides to taunt her, "I see you’ve grown zero muscle strength over the break. Too busy vegetating on the beach?" 

The surge of anger triggered by the provocation is enough impetus for her to crack the can open, but it doesn’t stop her from turning to face him, "I see you’ve grown zero neuron in that thick head of yours. Too busy making people miserable instead?" she counters with flaring nostrils and a look of disdain hardening her features.

"Ah, still got a feisty mouth on you. ‘Was worried you might turn soft on us." Harry sasses back, but y/n doesn’t bother telling him off this time. No matter how strong her comeback, he’ll just brush it off with that smile of his that irritates her to no end. That’s the thing with Harry, the bastard has the thickest skin of all, he’s downright unattainable. And believe it or not, bad-mouthing doesn’t come naturally to y/n, he just seems to draw it out of her, perhaps as the trigger of some kind of survival instinct. Time and time again she’s tried to come up with a quip that would leave him speechless, tail between his legs, but he always has a wittier reply to throw back at her. For so long they’ve been playing this debilitating game of ping pong and she has yet to claim a point to his countless wins. 

It’d been the case since their first meeting on that dreadful Friday two years ago. Y/n was about to embark on her second year at uni and decided to get a job so she could afford her own place instead of the dreary dorms she’d gotten used to. Bottom’s Up had seemed to be the perfect choice, a 2 minutes walk from the sweet little apartment she’d just visited a few days prior. She’d been excited for her first shift that night, air still warm from the Indian summer sun drawing a plethora of eager students to come enjoy their last day of freedom. Her happy jitters had quickly dissolved once she’d made her way in the staff-only area located behind the bar though. There, she’d walked in on a very frustrated Harry vociferating at a lost-looking colleague, "how many times do you have to fuck up before doing your bloody job, Steve? Stop sitting on your lazy ass, or I swear I’ll-" 

She’d come to this Steve guy’s defense then, furious at the tall curly hair jerk for bullying his way around, "stop it, you asshole. You can’t talk to people like trash, who do you think you are?" Granted, she didn’t know it at the time, but the lost look on Steve's face was in fact pretty standard for the amount of weed in his system; nor did she know that the lad could actually win the Olympics of lazy asses hands down, should such a discipline be appended. It was too late to call off the hostilities though. War had been declared, and aside maybe from that one time he had graciously accepted to cover for her when she’d had a trip to Brighton planned for one of her classes, no truce had ever been reached. Besides, she’s sure it was more so because he was low on cash rather than to fulfill the hidden desire to help her out for once in his life.

Now, as she finishes wiping her work surface with a wet cloth, y/n wishes more than ever to be teleported in a parallel universe where she doesn’t have to work with the bane of her existence, much less see his annoyingly handsome face four times a week. (Also, exams would only be optional in this alternate reality of hers, but that’s another fantasy for another day.) Mainly, she’s just glad she doesn’t see him around campus ever, the art building standing all the way across from the psychology department. At least she’s Harry-free the moment she steps out of the bar; she’d probably have a nervous breakdown if she had to put up with his antics outside of work.

                                                       ***

A month in the new semester, the novelty of it all has finally worn off to make way for routines to settle in. Y/n’s weeks now consist in a well-practiced cycle of sleep, study, eat, work and occasionally go out with her best friend Mia. Her shifts at Bottom’s Up still prove to be challenging because of the company she’s forced to keep but things seem to have calmed down at the bar too. Students are now less inclined to party the week away, mainly indulging during the second half of the week, but more importantly, Harry appears to be less of a smug bastard and more of a sulky sod. For some reason, the lad has been stuck in a sullen mood, constant frown wrinkling his forehead. He has reverted to distant one-word answers as though he is saving a dictionary worth of words for whatever conundrum is going on in his brain. Y/n doesn’t mind though, and almost welcomes the transition if it means less digs taken at her expense.

Now y/n finds herself on her way to the campus library for a much needed paper-writing cramming session (the assignment is due the following day and she barely has two thirds of the work completed). After a quick stop by the coffee shop down the block, she finally strides in the lobby of the library, ready to dive nose first into the riveting matters of cognitive psychology. She’s already so focused mulling over concepts’ definition in her mind, that it takes her a minute to realize something is going on.

It’s nothing major really, no big fire rushing around the premises or fist-fight breaking the crowd into a frenzy. No, just everyone seemingly hushing and gasping, bewildered expressions etched upon their faces as they keep pointing towards the nearby study room. Truthfully, y/n might have been completely oblivious to it, it she weren’t a psychology major; but reading people’s feelings and interactions is kind of her thing, so she does notice the bubbly energy infiltrating the usually quiet space. What could possibly have them so intrigued, she wonders as more students come out of the room with the same looks of wonder.

Her confusion is finally quelled when she steps into the study room in question and her eyes fall on what has everyone so engaged. On the wall to her right, between two sets of shelves brimming with decades-old books, hangs a life size canvas of audacious shapes and bold colors. Not one seems to have been left out, the painting seemingly transporting the viewer in a psychedelic albeit appealing trance. It’s full of contrasts, an embodiment of serenity and boldness at the same time, and y/n can’t stop ogling the masterpiece for the life of her. The amount of passion is so obviously overwhelming, yet she can feel all of the artist’s emotions underneath each of the brushstrokes.  

After another minute of wondrous observation, her thoughts are interrupted by a foreign voice. "El Patrón? I wonder who that could be," the stranger wonders aloud, and her eyes immediately drift off to the bottom right of the painting to catch the small but unmistakable signature: black cursive letter spelling the two words withholding the real artist’s identity. The mystery only adds up to the appeal of the work and y/n already feels a bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach at the idea of ever finding out what beautiful soul is responsible for such mind-bending work. She hopes this won’t be last she sees of it. 

                                                       ***

It’s Friday night and unfortunately for y/n, she’s stuck at work with her least favorite person in the world. It’s all the more unfortunate that Harry seems to be back to his usual annoying self, his thoughts finally free from whatever trouble had plagued them, and eager to fall back into nuisance mode. Less unfortunate for y/n and much to Harry’s discontent, Mia decided to stop by and keep her company. Though she feels slightly sorry for her having the act as her buffer for the night, y/n figures she’s more than making up for it with every free cocktail she keeps sliding towards her friend. Their conversation is scattered at best since patrons keep interrupting them for a fresh pint of ale, but as the night slowly dies down they manage to talk longer than 20 seconds.

The manager of the bar has long clocked off and gone home, as per usual on Friday nights, leaving both her and Harry the pleasure to indulge in a few drinks of their own. They don’t do it every week and always keep it low-key of course; Mia’s tonight presence mostly accounting for y/n’s partaking while Harry just likes a nice glass of tequila when the week-end comes around and there’s nobody to tell him off about it. One thing they never do though, is drink together, like two friends celebrating yet another week they survived at uni. Come to think of it, the only thing they do share is a job position and their never-ending bickering. Cheers to that, y/n takes another sip of her gin martini in sarcasm. 

She’s brought back to reality by Mia as the tipsy brunette lets out a loud gasp before she inquires in a slightly high-pitched voice, "y/n! totally forgot to tell you, went by the library today and you’ll never guess what was there!" 

"Oh my god, you saw the painting too, didn’t you" y/n answers, excited at the idea of discussing the whole thing with her best friend. Truth be told, the majestic work of art hasn’t left her mind since she’d first seen it a few days before. 

"Yes" Mia squeals in confirmation, "I mean, it’s kinda impossible to miss. I wonder how they got it there without anyone seeing."

Y/n has wondered the same thing and she came to one conclusion, "they probably sneaked in last Sunday after the library closed, it’s the only time the building is empty," Mia humming in agreement. The campus library is opened 24/7 all days except on Sundays, so realistically speaking it is the only window of time that would allow for such an experiment. Whether said experiment required an actual break-in or was conducted in full legality remains a mystery but that is just bygones in y/n’s eyes. She’s much to mesmerized by the work to give a damn about how it got there in the first place. 

"Oi y/l/n! What are you two fawning over this time" Harry chirps in the conversation, uninvited as always, and y/n hates how condescending he just sounded.

"Not that you could ever understand something with substance, if your lack thereof is any indication, but it’s none of your damn business," y/n spats out dismissively but Mia’s Margarita-induced brain seems to have forgotten all about their concerted hatred for piss-taking bartenders.

"Harry, you’re an art major aren’t you? D’you know who’s behind that beautiful painting at the library?" 

Y/n tilts her head back in a sigh at her friend’s behavior before turning to watch the puzzled look on Harry’s face. He seems to silently gauge the both of them; for what, y/n doesn’t know, and then his whole expression switched to a blasé look. He shrugs in disinterest, "who cares? ’s just one more Banksy wannabe who’s trying at it too hard ‘f you ask me." 

Y/n takes it as a personal offense, her admiration for the painting outweighing any instinct she has of avoiding the brazen man taking a sip of his tequila on rocks across from her, "of course you’d say something like that. You’re just jealous you’ll never compete with his talent."

Harry raises a brow at her accusation, "and how would you know since you’ve never seen any of my work?" 

It’s a valid point, but not enough to rebut her. "Doesn’t take a genius to know a shallow mind like yours could never create something as deep and transcending. That would require actual emotions from you Harry and we both know the only emotion you’re capable of spreading is irritation." 

For once she’s confident she’s gonna have the last word, but in true Harry fashion he just gives her a bored look as if to say ‘is that all?’ towel thrown over his shoulder, "right, and here I thought talking to people like trash was a bad thing. You should really take a page out of your own book, y/n, wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re as big of a jerk as I am." Then he turns back to face the room full of customers, and tends to one disheveled looking guy slurring out an order. 

Y/n barely registers the friendly "alright Joe, but ’s the last one," Harry rasps out to the guy, her ears are still ringing from the last words he’d said to her. More specifically, the little truth they held despite how much he deserved the backlash, and y/n absolutely loathes the way her throat seems to be closing in on itself. She’s afraid she’s turning like him, bitter words at the ready and always trying to outdo his own taunting spiels. Before anxiety can settle in her bones though, she swallows back the knot tightening in her airways and goes back to serving customers and conversing with her friend.

                                                        ***

The next time it happens, she expects it even less. A couple weeks have passed since her gruesome interaction with Harry at the bar, and along with her doubts, all thoughts about art have seemed to vanish from her busy mind. She’s had a few tests occupying all her free time and now that they’ve been done and over with, all she can think about is calling Mia up to plan their next night out; she needs a few drinks that she didn’t make for once. 

She’s about to take her phone out of her pocket to send her best friend a text, when she enters the lecture hall of her Monday experimental method and research design class. The déjà-vu feeling that creeps up her spine stops her from completing the action, and y/n frowns at how her fellow students seem to be all entranced in deep conversation, exchanging baffled looks with one another. Even the sleeping kid that sits at the back seems to be more alert than during their last fire evacuation procedure test. 

It’s then y/n turns around to see what is hanging at the front of the room, covering the large board. This time, the colors were carefully handpicked by the artists, flashes of pink and yellow dancing along to a frenzied rhythm of salsa as their union creates powerful jets of oranges across the canvas. It vaguely reminds her of the pendant she wears on a daily basis, rose gold laurels wrapped around a delicate sunflower, an orange topaz incrusted in its center. The painting is of abstract nature much like the last one, but the movements of the brush still bring her mind back to the jewel presently nestled between her collarbones. How odd.

The piece is slightly smaller than the last but no less impressive, catching the attention of even the least artistic eye. The sensibility of the artist is so distinct, intentions clearer and more in touch than most people with their own. For a second, y/n thinks she’s glad the pieces have only been ones of unadulterated happiness and colorful bliss so far, because god knows how heart-wrenching the outcome would be if all this uncorrupted honesty was used to fill canvas with pain.

As the professor enters the room, everybody settles back on their seat, and wait for the chap’s reaction. "Well, that sure is something. It seems we have a bit of a mystery painter on our hands, don’t we; and a talented one at that," y/n’s professor smiles at the class as he pulls a computer out of his satchel and places it at top of the front desk. His words make her look back at the artwork, this time settling on the small signature reading El Patrón on its corner. And it’s all it takes for Y/n’s obsession with the anonymous artist to be back in full force.

                                                       ***

That night she can’t stop raving about the painting as she starts closing the bar after a long and tiresome shift. She’s got a shoulder pressing her phone to her ear, Mia on the line, while she absentmindedly sweeps the floor. Normally the exertion of the job would have her stifling yawns and her bones aching but tonight her voice is perky as ever as she recollects the pinnacle of her day, "you shoulda been there Mia, it was gorgeous. And same as last time, like you’d be minding your business, doing your thing and then boom, it’s there. Damn, this guy is a genius."

As she comes back around the counter, Harry makes sure she notices the roll of his eyes. He’s been wiping and tidying the bar space after making sure everything is stocked up for the next day, all the while listening to her drone about El Patrón and his stroke of genius, praise after praise falling from her lips. She completely brushes off the patronizing gesture and that’s perhaps what irritates him the most. She’s barely acknowledging him or his stunts with all her attention placed on the mystery painter and well, Harry quite likes riling her up. Doesn’t do it out of spite, but merely because he likes the way it ignites a fire in her that he’s seldom seen in people. But now, all her fire is directed elsewhere and he doesn’t know what to think of it.

                                                         ***

Over the next month, the rumors around El Patrón spread like wildfire as more and more of his works are found scattered around campus. Much to y/n’s delight, she always seems to fall upon them as though they’ve been placed specifically on her path. It didn’t start as obvious though; the first following pieces hung in common areas around campus such as the lunch hall or the student center but as time went by they tended to follow her whereabouts somehow. Y/n knows she’s probably fabulating but when she’d stumble across two absolutely stunning pieces in the lobby of her gym and at the entrance of the psychology building, she couldn’t help but feel deeply attached to them. And the possibility that this mystery artist might have the same attachment to her, only fuels her obsession further, sending her reeling with all but one nerve-wracking question: who is this guy?

And it’s not like she’s the only one pondering over their identity either. Hell, the genius has literally everyone on campus under their spell, trying to uncover the enigma of the year. Everyone seems to be determined to find clues, easter eggs hidden within the paintings that could lead them closer to the truth. El Patrón has effectively turned the whole uni into a large-scale game of Cluedo, people speculating left and right and swapping theories about who it can or cannot be, what year they are probably in, or whether they have an accomplice. Nobody has ever executed such a tour de force in the history of campus, and it has everyone one edge, y/n included, desperate to be in the loop.

The fact that each painting is more beautiful than the last and always seems to connect with her in personal ways doesn’t help her daydreaming either. Take the one she found at the gym for example, for a few second she’d sworn she was looking at a familiar piece of the English South Coast, dark hues of blue fighting dots of white, reminiscent of the way foam always seems to top even the most raging waves as they crash along shores. She’d only had to close her eyes to feel the wind blowing her hair in a thousand directions and the sand engulfing her feet, making its way between her toes and every crevice of her skin. She was still in the middle of her gym when she reopened them though, her sport bag straddling her shoulder as she kept gaping at the painting in adoration.

Her suspicious keeps nagging at her head, the desire to unveil the identity of her beloved artist getting stronger by the day. The feeling is almost unbearable when she spots yet another work of his across from Bottom’s Up. The coincidences keep piling up and the more she mulls it over, the more she’s convinced this mystery guy is talking to her. Damn, is it possible to have a crush on someone because of their work? After months of this cryptic scavenger hunt, she’d dying to know if all her theories are right and the fact that she has no way to find out, is positively killer her.

That’s why when she stumbles across a flyer for a midterm exhibition gala hosted by the art department as she waits in line at her favorite coffee shop, she doesn’t think twice before jotting down all the info. In a week time, most of the uni’s art students would be gathered up in one place to present their term’s work. The chances are too high for y/n to pass up the opportunity, her guts telling her he’ll be there. It makes sense doesn’t it? Surely, this El Patrón ought to be an art student if not a teacher. How else would they have access to all the campus amenities most of the paintings were found in? 

As she goes to pick up her coffee from the counter, y/n walks with a newfound spring in her steps; she really can’t wait for this gala to happen.

                                                       ***

Y/n stands at the entrance of the art building, a black floor-length long-sleeves open-back dress hugging her curves in all the right places. Her heart speeds up at the nervous jitters crawling underneath her skin, and the million question swarming her frantic mind. What if he actually doesn’t know her and doesn’t give a damn about her thoughts on his work? What if it’s actually a woman and she’s been hiding a man’s pen-name to consolidate her deceit? Is she about to make the biggest fool out of herself by coming to this exhibition? She doesn’t know anyone here, nor has she ever been to this kind of event before but she’s decided this guessing game has run its course. Maybe this all thing has nothing to do with her and that’s okay. All she really wants is to have a chance to tell this exquisite mind how remarkable their work is; the rest be damned.

Y/n slowly makes her way inside, and after a quick stop at the coat room to dispose of the unnecessary garment, she is finally greeted by a room full of dressed-up people roaming�� and chatting around, champagne flutes in hands. How cliche, she thinks with humor, before picking up a glass of the bubbly beverage. It’ll help sooth the nerves, she reasons as she starts walking around the place to observe each of the displays. Despite not having had a glimpse of her number-one painter yet, she finds herself having a good time. Most of the work offered to her is engaging in one way or another; some pieces quite provocative is their depiction, others straight out pushing the limits of 2D, with structures coming out of the canvas as though they were about to grip at the viewer. 

Turning at a corner, she comes across his art before she sees him, having almost forgotten art was supposedly his thing too, and she realizes she actually knew someone here apart from the mysterious painter. She takes a brief look at his tall frame, the baby blue suit over his crisp white shirt fitting him perfectly. A black tie is completing the look, and it makes y/n waver for a second. She’s never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans and the bar’s t-shirt every employee is supposed to wear on call. Granted, even that he can make work better than anyone else she can think of, but that suit is something else altogether. 

Her eyes shifts back to his work, not wanting to waste too much time on his appearance; she is here on a mission after all. She can’t deny his painting is good as much as she wants too. It’s made of a perfectly executed optic illusion that has her pause for longer than she intended to. The colors are picked wisely only adding to the entrancing design, tempting the viewer to reach out to the painting to convince themselves that this is fact a pretty subterfuge and no reality; the frontier between both worlds much too hard to distinguish. Just like for the rest of the exhibition, a single plaque hangs underneath the canvas, introducing the title of the piece above the name of its artist: Fine Line by Harry Styles. Damn, the bastard had to be talented…

"Is it as depthless as you thought it would be?" A hoarse voice interrupts her inner thoughts. She knows it’s his at the first word and already she regrets ever thinking positive things about him.

"Funny, I would have shared a compliment but you just had to go and open your stupid mouth," she bites back as she fully turns around to face him. She can feel is eyes shamelessly scanning her body, sending her nerves on overdrive. She wants this exchange to be as curt as possible, she’s got important matters to tend to.

"Here for you mysterious bloke, I presume?" he inquires in a taunting voice.

"What’s it to you, anyway?" y/n dodges the question with another, hoping it’ll steer the conversation toward its end.

She’s answered by rosy pouting lips, a hand on his heart in faux vexation, "ouch, was just hopin’ you’d come to see me, and now you’ve just crushed my dreams, love."

The pet-name is not lost on her and Y/n has had enough. In own gulp she downs the rest of her champagne and forces the glass to his chest for him to hold as she makes her way past him, "just leave me alone and go be a pain in someone else’s ass, Harry." She doesn’t wait to see if he’s following her as she marches across the room in long and purposeful strides. 

Something in the corner of her eyes catches her attention right then. Halting abruptly, almost making someone walk right into her, she turns her head to the side and that’s when she finally sees it. A whole part of the wall has been dedicated to his work, a shrine of his most outstanding pieces randomly hung against the white surface. Y/n recognizes each and every one of them, but then her eyes take in the extra work added for the exhibition: next to each of the pieces are displayed a bunch of photos capturing the students’ expressions as they first discovered the paintings. Dozens of faces lighting up in amazement, widening eyes and finger pointing at the unexpected intrusions; some show confusion and puzzlement while others simply behold laughter and animated conversation.

In the center of the wall, a video is projected. It’s a compilation of those same moments but this time captured on tape. The sound was removed, but as y/n takes in the faces of her fellow students she can almost hear the sound of their laughters; she’d been there for most of it after all. She thinks the idea is amazing, El Patrón has managed to make the viewer a permanent part of the art. The paintings are marvelous of course, full of emotions and passion, but the mysterious artist has gone one step further by also displaying how those emotions had reflected back on the audience. It is an ode to art, to the power of sharing, and proves art is limitless; not owned by museums, not bound between walls and certainly not restricted for trained-eyes only. Because art isn’t all about beauty, it speaks for the need for sharing that human have but often forget, and this is a perfect reminder of it.

The next tape playing has her eyes doubling over the video, a small gasp escaping her lips as she takes in her own figure. It was taken the day she found the painting at the gym and unlike all the other videos she’s alone. No group of students by her side elbowing her in disbelief, or sharing a puzzle look with her. Just her doe eyes gleaming at the painting, lips slightly parted in pure wonder, as she studies every inch of the canvas. And the feeling that this might mean just as much to him as it does to her comes back crashing on her. She’s not paranoid; this artist his using her as some kind of inspiration, she’s sure of it. Random cannot be this accurate, it would defy any laws of statistics. 

After the slideshow finally moves on to the next video, y/n looks around in the hopes of finding the man that has wormed his way into her heart. She’s imagined it a thousand times over during the past week. A young man would be discretely standing on the side, watching the evening pan out and waiting for her to find his work. Then they would make eye contact and he’d make his way over to greet her and share more of his beautiful mind with her. That’s the happily ever after she’s hoped for since that first painting in the library, but alas everyone around her seems to be engrossed in conversation about this and that. 

"I thought he would be there too," the unexpected voice makes her jump. She recognizes the student from that first day, she’d also be intrigued by the mysterious man.

"I know, all of his work is here, he has to somewhere around," y/n tries to convince herself. She hasn’t given up yet, she won’t let herself unless she goes home tonight empty-handed. Only after that will she stop searching, she promises herself. If he doesn’t show up tonight, then that’s because he doesn’t want to be found.

The girl next to her has the same disappointed tone when she explains, "you’d think so, but I’ve been asking everyone around and nobody has a clue still."

Before y/n can come up with her own rationalizations, someone starts speaking in a microphone, asking for everyone’s attention. It’s a man in his early fifties making a speech about the whole reason behind the exhibition so y/n pegs him as the head of the art department. "Thank you all for coming tonight, it is always a pleasure to see so many of you supporting our young talents. As you may know, tonight’s exhibition signs off our students’ final work for the semester, and will also see one of them receive a one-time collaboration with a renown art gallery in the city. Now, before the judges finish deliberating, let me tell you a bit about the topic of this exhibition which, by the way, serves as the main criteria for this contest. Our artists were asked to work around audience engagement and crowd reaction. The task was to produce art that would prompt an active response from the viewer and go beyond a passive experience. I hope this info helps this event take all its sense, I’ll let you all meander for a couple more minutes before we announce the winner. Thank you for your presence." 

Since she has a couple more of minutes, y/n decides to take advantage of the fresh insight she was just given about the artwork and goes around the exhibition one more time. The whole thing does take on a new meaning, now that she knows what was going one in the students’ mind as they first got their assignment. But what has her in awe really, is El Patrón’s coup de maître in all of this, because unlike any other applicant here tonight, he’s had the strongest reactions from the public for months now and had even documented it. So really, in a way he’s already won, no bias to blame. The amount of work and planning behind such a tour de force surely has exceeded everyone’s expectations and secured the number-one position for the still-to-be-revealed artist. In the pocket, as they say.

"Alright everyone, without further ado we are going to announce the lucky talent selected by the judges tonight," the head of department speaks up again. "On behalf of the whole department, I would like to salute each and every one of the students that presented their work tonight. Skills are certainly not scarce among you all, and as always it gives me great pleasure to see you all grow into yourselves alongside your craft. As you know, there can only be one of you coming up to this stage tonight and I must say, this semester has proved to be full of surprises. Never in my 26 years working here have I ever seen something of the sort, so ladies, gentleman, I have no idea who is about to join me now, but please give a warm round of applause for El Patrón!" 

The room explodes in loud cheers as people clap their hands in honor of the mysterious artist. Y/n probably the loudest amongst them all, is still craning her neck in every possible directions trying to catch sight of anyone moving towards the stage. The standing ovation quickly fades into silence as everyone realizes nobody is coming to claim their prize. The usual hushing following any of El Patrón’s stunts is once again spreading across the room to match people’s incredulity at the situation. It was one thing to keep their identity a secret, as it was clearly a crucial condition for the plan to work, but now that it is all over and done, prize ready for the taking, it doesn’t make much sense.

"Mister El Patrón? I think you more than deserve to drop your mask and receive your prize," the host reiterates in hopes that the much awaited artist comes out of his lair, but he’s met with the same result. Perhaps he’s not here after all, or perhaps y/n was right to think he might not want to be found, but regardless a strong feeling of disappointment takes over a body. He won’t be coming, she knows. No matter how many times the host calls for him, he won’t be coming. 

She lets out a long sign in frustration then, she really thought tonight was the tonight. But now that the evening is coming to its end, tears pearl at the corner of her eyes and she just wants to go home and forget all about El Patrón. Aren’t artists supposed to be dark and twisted anyway? Maybe she just dodges a bullet, she tries to make herself feel better, but no amount of sarcasm can save her from the painful pinch at her heart. As she comes to term with the fact she won’t get any more answers by staying (and possible ever), she decides it’s her cue to go. 

On her way to the exit, her eyes fall upon Harry’s slightly hunched figure. He seems deep in his thoughts, eyes fixed towards the floor though he’s not looking at anything in particular. For some unknown reason, y/n is not irked by his presence like she usually is. He’s just lost a great career opportunity so his preoccupied disposition is understandable. Feeling as though she needs to end the night on a different note - whether positive is yet to be determined - she approaches him slowly as not to startle him. "Your painting is really good. I’m sorry you didn’t win, but you should still be proud," she softly tells him to cheer him up. At least, one of them might get to go home in higher spirits. 

He looks up at her then, curls bouncing on top of his head, as he aligns his two glistening emeralds to her own gems. He seems quite surprised to hear her voice, probably rightfully so since he can count on one hand (scratch that, one finger) the number of times she’s actively sought him out for conversation. She can tell he’s debating whether to say something or not, as they keep their eyes locked. It’s probably the longest and only civil exchange they’ve ever had, and somehow it manages to soothe some of her sorrows. 

Y/n likes this reflective side of him, she realizes. Not that she wishes him any torments (at least not tonight) but his quietness makes him look vulnerable in that beautifully human way for once. That’s twice he’s proven her wrong about the assumptions she had on him, tonight: first his talent, now his character; she doesn’t know what to make of it. Silently, she accepts the timid smile and light nod he offers her in gratitude, before making her way to out at last.

                                                       ***

Two days after the night of the exhibition, y/n still has a hard time to let her grievance go. Her mood has yet to upgrade from crappy at best, and the fact that all the artwork has been removed from their previous spots is not helping much. Of course she knew they had been put down for the big night, but her heart still missed a beat when she went to the gym only to find the walls of the lobby bare of any craft that would liven up their otherwise dull and colorless structure. Just like her state of mind, she’d joked. And y/n is not one to throw pity parties, especially to herself; but then again, she’d never fallen under the charms of a faceless virtuoso because his art brought to life parts of her that she’d believed otherwise dormant, only to be metaphorically stood up at the end of the process. So really, what does she know anymore?

Now that she’s back at work, she revels in the constant effort she has to provide. The ever-growing list of task to complete gives her mind reprieve and focus, but she still hasn’t budged from her unusually distant and withdrawn self. Even harry’s own standoffishness hasn’t caught her attention; a week ago, his awkward demeanor would have flashed red flags all over her radar. An unfiltered narcissistic prick he could be, but y/n has never known him to be anything even resembling reserve; apart maybe from that one fate-less night not even 72 hours ago when she found him on the outskirts of the attention even though she knew full well that he is more of center kind of guy.

As they’re about to start closing, the awkwardness becomes more palpable by the second. They’ve skirted around it during the whole shift, the steady solicitation of customers enough to ignore the growing tension; but as the last of the patrons finally make their way out of the bar, an eery silence settles in their wake, making them both want to crawl out of their skin. Even the heavy-served drinks they’ve indulged in, despite the absence of their respective motives, hasn’t help assuage the strain between them. Instead, they start their usual routine in overrated silence, y/n in charge of the floor while he tends to the bar. Then before long, Harry bursts the uncomfortable bubble they’ve locked themselves in, voice void of its usual teasing tone, "so, what’s got you so grumpy?" he inquires.

"Please don’t start, Harry. I really can’t be bothered tonight," y/n sighs in response, failing to recognize the note of concern in his question and thinking she wouldn’t survive another bickering session. It hasn’t been the lad’s intention though, so her false accusation has his thick skin itching against his will. To be honest, Harry’s never taken much offense from any of their past squabbles no matter how hard she’d come at him, but this one he can’t brush off. Not when for once, he’s trying to be decent, dropping the attitude he knows rubs her the wrong way and she responds by telling him to get lost.

"Fuck sake, I wasn’t tryin’ to start anythin’" he berates her for lashing out unjustifiably, "you need to take a chill pill." The hostile reaction as her pausing mid-swipe in the middle of the room. He was always so unbothered by everything she said, she hasn’t expected him to be so hard on the defensive (or even know what a defensive is in the first place). 

Still, she doesn’t appreciate the same chastising tactic he’s used on her countless times, especially because given his serious temper, she knows he means it for real now. "Oh I’m sorry Harry, I didn’t know what sympathy actually sounds like coming from your mouth," she quips back in sarcasm. 

The response makes him livid, "you tell me I’m a jerk every chance you got, but you sure know how to be a bitch, y/n" he spats before finishing wiping the counter. As his hand reaches the end of the surface, he finds his half-empty glass of tequila, most of the ice completely melted through the amber liquor by now. He takes one long sip in a vain attempt to calm his nerves but the alcohol merely tingles the back of his palate and warms its way down his stomach. His mind is still burden with frustrations he doesn’t know how to alleviate; the end of term, the exhibition, his career’s future, and y/n’s stubborn nature all wreaking havoc in his tired brain.

"Shut the fuck up, Harry. I didn’t ask for your attention," y/n retorts, trying not to expose how bruised her heart is. While he’d mocked her plenty during the past two years, he’d never resorted to calling her names, unlike her; so the insult does more damage than she’s willing to admit, even coming from Harry. And to think she’d thought of him as a half decent being not three days ago…

"Right, I forgot only anonymous bastards are worthy enough of your attention," he replies before checking the shelves behind the bar to make sure they’re stocked enough for the next shift. "And even when they turn out to be cowards, you still choose them over the people that are actually around you. You need to open your eyes and wake up, it’s pathetic."

Y/n has almost finished cleaning her area but at this point, she’s ready to call it quits and run as fast as she can, away from him. "Go fuck yourself, you don’t know anything you’re talking about," she manages to croak past her swelling throat and quivering lips. The man in front of her is breaking her heart even though he’s never had it in his calloused hands, and y/n doesn’t know why. 

"Fuck this, ’m done," he quite literally throws in the towel, leaving it in a bowl on the counter before making his way back to his drink. In a swift movement, he grabs the bottle of tequila to pour himself a new one. "You keep blindly mopin’ about your precious painter, I don’t care, you’re probably right anyway," he says before chugging the bitter spirit in one go and slamming the bottle of tequila down on the counter in a loud bang that has y/n jump in fear. "I don’t anything about bloody anything," is all Harry says as he locks eyes with hers, before making his out of the bar, not bothering to put the bottle back to its rightful place.

Y/n is still trembling from the exchange, and it takes her a hot minute before she can finish what she was doing. As she resumes wiping the floor with shaky hands, she tries to even her breath out. Why had he been so hurtful? What could have possibly impelled him to utter such malicious words? The questions are still reeling in her mind as she twists water out of the mop  for the last time. Once the floor is spotless and all the tables are no longer sticky with spilled alcohol, chairs stacked up onto them upside-down, she makes her way back behind the bar, checking that Harry didn’t leave any of his duties unattended before his theatrical exit. She spots the bottle of tequila sitting lonely on the counter but just as she goes to reach for it, she freezes. 

It’s a cold shower pouring over her body all at once then, dots finally connected as her eyes read over the label of the fat bottle she’s seen him take out of the stack countless times before. Everything that happened for the last few months falls into place and suddenly there is no mystery left to be solved. ‘You’re probably right, I don’t know anything about bloody anything’ Harry’s final words keep playing on a maddening loop in her head. 

Y/n takes in the small bee design printed under what is unmistakably the last piece of the puzzle she’s been craving to complete: one word that has her stomach churning in a myriad of emotions she can’t possibly untangle. Anger, relief, surprise, fear, curiosity, warmth and more, are all rushing through her in one colossal wave, because printed on that bottle in black capital letters is the brand of Harry’s favorite drink: Patrón.

                                                       ***

The next day, y/n navigates through her classes purely on autopilot mode. She doesn’t quite remember picking the floral blouse nor the light-shade pair of jeans she’s wearing, and barely recalls the brief conversation she had with an old lady during her bus commute to campus. One thing she sure as hell hasn’t paid one iota of attention to, is the behavioral psychology class she’s just got out of. Two hours she spent pacing up and down every twist and turn of her mind only to come out more lost than she’d started. Add to that the fact she’s running on 4 hours of sleep, she’s quite simply a recipe for disaster. Fortunately for y/n, she isn’t due at work tonight, having called sick this morning, because sleep-deprivation aside, she still has no idea how she’s supposed to face Harry.

The revelation of the night prior is still something she has trouble wrapping her mind around, as it goes against every constructed opinion she’s made about her life. Harry is Patrón, she’s pretty sure. Harry, the allegedly conceited asshole she’s been bickering with since their first minute spent together, is the mind-blowing painter that had taken residence in y/n’s heart since the first time she set eyes on his art. The two characters have yet to fully merge into one in her mind, despite the fact it makes perfect sense to her. 

The Brighton painting, the one inspiring her necklace, it was all true. And with that revelation comes two intimidating truths y/n is kind of scared to delve into: one, all this time she’s been right to think she is the muse behind this all scheme; two, if Harry is the mystery painter, that makes her Harry’s muse more specifically. And that’s the part of the equation she struggles the most with, because up until last night she was pretty positive that the twat despised her (the night in itself being prime evidence of that) but now she doesn’t know what to think.

It’s like there are two versions of Harry battling in her brain, splitting her heart in halves; the one that made her miserable at work for years and made her cry last night, and the one she’d gotten a glimpse of at the night of the exhibition. The one that hid a fully blossomed bouquet of emotions behind teasing banter to protect a diamond-rough talent that had the power to touch just about anyone’s sensibility. The one that had her wrapped around his finger in awe with that beautiful mind of his. The question is, can she or will she see this Harry the next time she’s facing him or will all their bad-blood history come crashing down on her instead? Y/n doesn’t think she’s ever fit more the definition of having mixed feelings about something.

On her way home, she makes sure she doesn’t fall asleep against the bus window, despite yawning every thirty-seconds. It feels like the trip is taking forever, she almost lets out a cry of relief when the automated voice finally announces her upcoming stop. Once she’s thanked the driver and stepped out of the bus, she’s met with a gust of brisk air, instantly blowing her hair all over her face. She draws the lapels of her coat tighter around her shivering body and starts making her way towards her apartment building. 

It doesn’t take her long to complete the walking distance to her place and tread her way up the stairs, but the sight greeting her in the hallway of her floor almost sends her down on her ass. Because right across from her door, is Harry hanging yet another one of his chefs-d’oeuvre. He’s dressed casually in his usual jeans and t-shirt ensemble, with a thick grey hoodie covering his broad upper-half in a feeble attempt to combat to cold weather raging outside. As he reaches in the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a sharpie - no doubt to apply his trademark signature - the movements of her feet on the laminated floor catch his attention. Spinning around in a jolt of surprise, he realizes too late that he’s been caught red-handed. There was no going back this time, but he doesn’t necessarily see it as a bad thing.

There is a short moment where they are both just standing in front of each other a few feet apart, as their eyes bounce back in silent conversation, before y/n softly breaths out, "so it is you." The weight of her words has him swallow in nervousness, "of course it’s me," he replies in a gentle tone. A smile pulls at his lips when he realizes she’s not running for the hills or bursting out in a furious rant. 

"I just…how? why? I mean, you gotta help me understand Harry, cause I’m pretty fucking lost over here," she blurts out with wide doe-eyes begging him for answers. Her obvious jitters earn her a soft chuckle., and for a hot minute all he can bring himself to do is study her snuggled figure and the way she keeps fiddling with her keys. It’s so endearing to him, if they were at his place, he would have offered to make some tea. The thought has him hesitantly looking at the door across from them, "can we maybe talk inside?" he inquires, beckoning his head towards her place. "I know I haven’t given you much reasons to let me in, but I promise I’ll explain everythin’," he feels the need to convince her, " after that, you can kick me out if you still want."

The last bit has her smile timidly, "yeah, let’s go inside. I wanna hear what you have to say," y/n admits as she steps to the door and unlocks it. She’s intrigued by how gentle and well-mannered the man following her to the living room seems to be, light years away from the rowdy lad she’s come to know. 

For a second, y/n is worries about the state she’s left the apartment before she rushed to classes this morning, but her apprehensions quickly go away once she takes in the sight of her rather tidied living space. A velvety throw blanket is covering the couch in a makeshift comforter from the way she spent the night on the couch, and apart from a few class notes scattered across the coffee table, everything seems to be where it’s supposed to be. 

They both discard their top layers on the armchair adjacent to the couch, Harry slipping his hoodie off above his head in one swift gesture, while y/n simply lets the sleeves of her coat slide down her arms. He brushes his hair back into submission with one swoop of his hand, before sitting down on the couch and directing his attention back at her. She decides to leave some distance between them, taking the other end of the sofa and the move desperately makes him wonder what thoughts are running through her head. The only way to uncover them  however, is if he starts talking first; and so he does.

"So uhm," he starts clumsily, clearing his throat, "remember the first day we met, you walked in on me telling some stoner guy off," he watches closely as y/n nods. "It was our first ever conversation and we fought through the whole thing. I was pretty pissed when it happened, not gonna lie, but once I got home and slept it off, I thought it was really cool how you’d stand up for that random guy." The admission has her eyebrows raising but he keeps going, "and okay maybe, just maybe, I found it a lil hot, the way you tried to put me back in my place." 

He stops to make sure he hasn’t offended her, "tried to?" she challenges instead, Harry laughing at her objection. 

"Right, maybe you did. My poin’ is, no-one really calls me out on my bullshit, so it was kinda refreshing that you did. But then the next day, you were still mad at me, an’ we bickered that time too. It felt like you’d already made up your mind about me. So in a way, all I had left was doin’ this thing where I push your buttons and rile you up. Know it doesn’t make sense, but it was the only way you’d interact with me so I kept doin’ it, because being jerk-Harry was better than having nothin’." 

He pauses for a minute and waits as y/n swallows all the information. All this time he’s been teasing her just to have some sort of connection, no matter how perverse, while she thought he just hated her guts. When she shares this thought with him, he shakes his head with a smile, "never hated you. If I ‘ad, I wouldn’t have bothered talking t’you."

Suddenly, her chest feels lighter, as though all this months of anguish had evaporated from her mind, now that she knew their rocky relationship was the result of miscommunication, "sound logic, Styles," she replies in good humor. Then she remembers the El Patrón’s fiasco so she urges him to go on.

"My final. Right. Well as you know, we were given the assignment at the beginning of the semester, and I came up with the idea of creating this alter ego that would plant his work around campus. I thought by taking people’s by surprise I was guaranteed strong genuine reactions. People are always more opened when they don’t expect it. Like if I had just brought my paintings on the night of the exhibition, the same people wouldn’t have reacted that way, probably because they’d know they’d be observed so they would have adjusted their behavior accordingly." They both know he’s getting slightly off trail, but watching y/n so enthralled with his words makes it hard for him to stop. Fact is, for month she’s dreamed of meeting and picking at the brain of this mysterious painter, and now that he’s sitting on her couch, walking her through his thought process, she finally feels like she is. 

"Anyway," he resumes the storytelling, "I started with that painting in the library and it worked so perfectly, I knew if I followed the plan I would have somethin’ really good. But then you just had to go on an’ rave about the paintings without knowing they were mine, and it was killin’ me inside. Because I knew if there was a real chance I could change your mind about me, I’d do anythin’. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t jeopardize my final… so I tried to tell you through the art. I started painting stuff that made me think of you and placed the pieces in locations I knew you’d pass through. It was the only way I could tell you."

Harry’s confession had Y/n’s heart beating so hard in her chest, she can almost feel it thumping through her ears. Her next question is on the edge of her lips, but she takes her time tracing each of Harry’s graceful features until his eyes catch hers, "tell me what, Harry?" she asks barely above a whisper. 

His response comes in three bashful steps: first his lips curve into a shy grin that has him look down with rosy cheeks; then his hand inches its way along the soft fabric of the couch to gently hold her fingers, thumb grazing over her knuckles; and as he looks up from their joined hands to connect their gaze once more, he finally spells it, loud and clear, "tell you that I like you, y/n." 

The sentiment sends her own emotions reeling in a tornado of passion. This is it, this is what she’s been half-knowingly wishing for, and now that she knows the truth in full, she’s ready to embrace it. Her eyes twinkle in bliss, a growing smile illuminating her face as she squeezes his hand in a silent invitation to slide closer to her. Harry is much happy to oblige, and once he’s sitting directly next to her, knees grazing her own, he cups her face with one of his bear-paw hands. A few strands of hair are caught in the cuddling gesture, but none of them care. Harry just keeps smiling at her, waiting for her next move, and his beam grows two sizes wide when she mirrors his affection. "I like this side of you," she whispers fondly, as her thumb draws slow circles across the skin of his cheeks.

Harry closes his eyes at her words, "this is the real me, I promise," he reassures in an almost pleading tone, vulnerability seeping through. And y/n feels like she’s lying down on cloud nine really, because dropping his fortress of pretentiousness is all she’s ever want from him. With a hushed ‘okay’, she finally brings her mouth to taste the rose-tinted flesh of his. It starts off chaste and slow, lips dovetailed in perfect symbioses like they are made to cohabit, but quickly the kiss heats up to a full on make out session. "Show me, then", y/n mutters out when they part for a breather.

Harry slowly nods his head, before helping her straddle his lap and y/n immediately brings both her hands to his neck once she settles her hips against his. The friction already had them deeply inhale, trying not to work themselves up too fast, but Harry doesn’t think he’ll have much self-control when it comes to y/n. Already he can feel his cock fattening up inside his brief, the tingling sensation making him roll his hips up into hers. Their lips are back in a sensual duel, tongues tentatively taking their turn to lick their way inside the other’s mouth. Every now and then, he teases her bottom lip with a graze of his teeth, and the move as her tugging the root of his hair at the back of his head every single time without a fail.

He loves discovering all the quirks and tells of her body, thinks he could spend hours on hand learning every single one of her curves and memorizing each of her special spots. The smell of her fragrance infiltrates his nostrils as he dips his head to her neck to plant open-month kisses along her skin. Head angled towards the ceiling to make room for his ministrations, y/n can’t do much but let her hands scout any expanse of skin accessible to her. She starts at his shoulder, squeezing the flesh to feel out the strong muscle laying underneath, before making her way down his tone arms, then to his hands currently holding onto to her waist. She gives them an affectionate pinch at the same time she presses down onto him with a deep moan, and Harry retaliates with a buck of his own. 

As he starts kissing down the exposed skin of her cleavage, y/n finally drops her head to place a tender kiss to his hairline. One of her hand is back at his neck, holding him firmly to her chest as he licks at the valley of her breasts down her sternum. The other worms its way underneath his shirt from the neckline, nails grazing down his back in soft enough pressure not to leave any marks.

Harry’s descent is obstructed by the soft material of her blouse, so he takes the garment off of her in one swoop, and places his hands back on her newly exposed body, rubbing up and own the skin. As his mouth goes back to the supple flesh of her breasts, y/n increases the pace of her hips grinding on his cock. The sensations seem to be not enough and too much at the same time for her; the heavy material still covering their most sensitive parts in the way of her pleasure, while Harry’s work has her going into overdrive under his velveteen mouth and calloused fingers. She starts kissing her way up from his shoulder to the edge of his jaw, and Harry revels in the sound of her moans tickling his ear. 

Done with the excess of fabric between them two, y/n grips at the top of his shirt and pulls it upwards, leaving him shirtless. "Fuck, I didn’t know you have so many tattoos," she babbles against his lips, while her hands smooth over the ink. 

"Plenty you don’t know about me, love," Harry chirps as he bask in the praise and the feeling of her skin of his. 

He then circles one arm around her waist to bring them chest to chest, and the contact has y/n once again intensify the friction between their crotches. "Wanna find out," she murmurs against his neck while she grinds on his clothed member, "Harry, please take me to bed."

He jolts at the quick bite she delivers to his neck, the impish gesture her way of saying ‘now’ but before she can make her way out of his lap to bring him to her room, he presses her back down with both hands on her waist. "Nuh uh, y’not goin’ anywhere. Want you to come once, b’fore I take you to bed, pet," he says, smoothing his hands over her ass to guide her rocking motions. The term of endearment sounds so innocent yet dirty all at once, it sends a chill down her spine. Nobody had called her that before.

"Can’t," she shakes her head, "can’t feel you through the jeans."  

"Alright then, stand up," he calmly asserts and she doesn’t hesitate to comply, standing in between his spread legs, in her flimsy bra and jeans. "Take ‘em off then, ’s what you want no?" he sends her a tantalizing look and bites at his lips as he watches her peel the pants off her legs. He can’t help the light squeeze he gives himself through his own jeans, as y/n stands in front of him awaiting his next instructions. "Come sit on my thigh now, think should be enough to make this pretty pussy tingle in all the right places, no?" 

Y/n’s insides are already twisting in a knot as she settles back on his lap and lets the rough material of his jeans against the softness of her cotton panties spread a prickling sensation through her pelvis area. Quickly, she resumes undulating her hips, gripping back at Harry’s neck to pull him in a languid kiss, pleasure vibrating against their lips. It is not long before her pace picks up, and her eyes shut at the intensity of her bliss. "That’s it, pet. Already makin’ a mess of me. You’re doin’ so well," he coaxes her with his words. 

As promised, y/n feels the lips of her sensitivity start to throb at her impending release, the sensation making her clamp her thighs tighter around his meaty limb. As her knee now presses against his bulge, Harry cries his sudden pleasure out in her mouth, and that’s all it takes for her to let her orgasm consume her. She unravels on top of him, one of her hands shooting to cup at her pussy in an attempt to quell the overwhelming throb. Harry draws soothing caresses down her back as he look at the sticky mess she’s left in her panties, damp patch matching the one tainting the material of his jeans. "All ruined, just as they should be," he smirks at the sight before giving her a sweet kiss. 

Flushed skin and blown pupils, she slowly regains her breath, "take off your pants and take me to bed now?" she requests.

"You’re quite demanding for someone who’s just gotten off," he keeps taunting her. After all, winding her up has always been one of his favorite thing to do, and dare he say in the past two years, he’s gotten quite good at pushing her buttons. Now he’s got new ones to figure out and play with, the thoughts has him pulsing in his jeans. 

Y/n doesn’t relent in her advances, she’s never been one to bow at his mockery, "thought you like how bossy I could be. Something about the way I put you in your place, if my memory serves right." 

"Anytime, anywhere, you’re the boss of me, love. But this," he cups at her cunt, adding pressure on her clit, "this is mine to have. Understood?" 

Y/n’s about to combust from all the desire firing up every one of her nerve-endings. His words might be the strongest aphrodisiac she’s ever experienced, she can’t wait to see what more tricks in has up his sleeves. "Now get up and show me the way to your room, pet," he softly commands before leaving a peck on her cheek. 

They both get up from the couch, and y/n guides them both down the hallway to her room, her hand wrapped in his tightly. Once they’re standing by the bed, Harry is surprised to face a patient y/n, biting her lips and awaiting his next directive. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on in his life, "undress me, love" he murmurs against her skin after kissing her forehead. 

His jeans are quickly discarded but before his boxer briefs follow suit, y/n can’t help but tease him in reprisal, "looks like I’m not the only one who made a mess in their panties." 

He lets out a boisterous laugh while she smears open mouth kisses along his stretching jaw, "mmm, I’d rather make a mess somewhere else," his innuendo causing her to gasp while he works the strap of her bra.  Once she’s gotten rid of his last piece of clothing, his cock springs up, free of it’s confines, dollop of pre-come already pearling at his tip, and sticking to the skin of his stomach. 

With a gentle grip at her hair, he has y/n’s head tilted backward, to let his mouth make its way towards her already pebbled nipples. Since she can’t look down, y/n blindly reaches out to wrap her hand around Harry’s thick shaft and starts massaging him in languid strokes. "Your hand feels so fuckin’ good around me, pet, I wanna fuck you so badly," he hisses around her nipple, before kissing his way back up to her lips. 

He starts backing her towards the bed in small steps, but she brings a hand to his chest at the feeling of the edge of the mattress brushing against the back of her knee, "wait, wait, wanna taste you first," she insists and Harry doesn’t think he could ever say no to that face, no matter how much he wants to just sink home inside of her in this moment. 

"Fuck, you’re killin’ me, love," he pinches at her waist and lays his forehead against hers, "you want my cock in your pretty mouth, before I drive it home in your cunt, is that it?" She nods, eyes turning into two lustful fireballs. "Okay, love, but y’ can’t keep it on your tongue fo’ too long, cause I really need to fuck you, alright?"

Y/n hastens to lower herself when he bids her "right then, on your knees and open wide fo’ me," and her brows furrow in confusion as she watches him stray from her spot. Picking up a plush cushion from her bed, he places it on the ground for her to knee upon, "there love, want you to be comfortable," he runs his fingers through her hair, and her heart grows three sizes bigger at how tender he can be in amidst his filthy ways. 

Sensually, y/n brings her lips around the crown of his cock, her tongue teasing its way across the salty skin. Once she’s licked up all the previous mess, she starts working her way down his cock, hand stroking at the base. After bopping up and down a few time, she removes her month from his swelling cock, and lets a string of spit fall down onto its head and make its way to his balls. "S’right, pet. Get me wet," Harry rasps in appreciation. Now that she’s got him properly slicked, she goes back to pumping his hardening cock and takes him into her warm inviting mouth, determined to have him all the way inside. She feels her throat expands to accommodate his thickness, and the pressure makes Harry tighten his hold in her hair, "fuck, that’s it, love. Take me good." 

Muscles already tensing up in preparation for his climax, when y/n’s hand finds his full and swollen balls to roll them together like dice, he is quick to calm her zeal, "Christ pet, you gotta stop before I can’t help myself," but his tone hardens when she defies his demand, "come on now, s’enough." 

Once she pulls off, the sight of her flushed face and puffy lips induces an animalistic groan to come out from his chest, as he thumbs through the wetness coating her chin. Taking the hand resting on his hip to guide her up, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, the taste of his arousal blending in their mouths. 

His hands come down to knead at the flash of her ass, before he scoops her up and on the bed with a quick flex of his biceps. "Harry, please," she whines in impatience, hands gripping at his sides to pull him down against her. His rock hard cock slides against her clothed pussy, pins and needles cruising along their skin and only fueling their eagerness. 

"Need me in your belly, pet?" Harry keeps working her up, as he slides her soiled panties down her legs, "need me to fuck you so good, you forget I was ever a jerk?" 

She’s putty in his hold, legs wrapping around his waist to feel the pressure of his member on her bare lips , "yes, yes, I wan’ it," she pleads.

Harry would love to tease her further, have her writhing and proper begging underneath him, but at this point it would be self-torture to even consider. Instead he pumps at his shaft to give himself some relief, their sex so close his knuckles graze at her clit every time his fist comes at the top. "You ready?" Harry utters softly while spreading and skimming her cleft with the head of his cock. It has y/n gripping at his hair, a series of delirious ‘yes’ tumbling form her mouth, so he doesn’t wait a second more to push his tip past her threshold and begins his descent in her warmth. "Fuck, t’feels so good. So wet, and tight, and warm," he thinks out loud once he’s stuffer her full, balls pressing against her ass.

Y/n whimpers against his lips, urging him to start moving to quell the building pressure coiling in her belly. A slow roll of his hips finally gives her reprieve causing her to moan in gratitude. She’s already so close, it baffles her how this man could have her coming apart at the seams without doing much. His thrusts starts gaining zeal then, betraying his own yearning to take the final leap. "So tight, love. Can feel you squeezin’ me, are you close already? Is my girl gonna cum fo’ me again?" he grunts in her ear while he pounds into her dripping cunt. Y/n doesn’t offer a response, too caught up in a daze of bliss, but her clenching muscles is all the answer he needs to start nudging his thumb at her clit. A several flicks across the sensitive bud later, her orgasm is pulsing through every bone and fiber of her body, walls hugging Harry’s cock so tight, it has to pause his hammering. 

Waiting for her to catch her breath, he peppers delicate kisses along her cheek, "was that good, love? Think you can give me another, uhm?" he asks when she’s regained some of her senses. The pressure at his groin is growing more and more the longer his cock remains unmoving entombed within her vice, and the luscious agony must be written all over his face, "yes, Harry, wanna be good for you" y/n cups his jaw tenderly. 

He nods at her approval, "good girl," delivers a sweet earnest kiss to her pouty lips as he pulls out and spins her around to lay on her stomach. His hand brushes the hair off her skin so he can sew a string of kisses at her shoulder blades and neck. Painfully red, his cock is propped between her buttcheeks, "can I take you like that?" he punctuates his inquiry by rolling his hips backward, tip lingering at her soaked entrance. Y/n clutches the sheets firmly, as she murmurs a faint ‘please’, back arching at the thrills consuming her mind. 

Harry plunges in her wet core in one smooth swing, hand digging at her hip to keep her steady as the other one interlaces with hers to lay on the mattress above her head. Unforgiving lunges have y/n cinch around him, face buried in the sheets and muffling salacious wails of pleasure, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to steer from his end for much longer. He slows his cadence to steady and firm strokes, slipping a hand around her waist to polish her swell. 

A million tremors spark off the onset of Y/n’s climax as she shudders in a firework of ecstasy. Harry  doesn’t relent until he’s worked her through completion and can no longer stop the coil in his loins from snapping. His release fills her in several spurts of wet warmth before he flops down next to her, positively fucked out.

They both lay unmoving in comfortable bliss for a few minutes, before y/n plops her head on his chest and an arm around his torso, her leg sneaking in between his. "Well, here goes two years of sexual tension," Harry says jokingly, fingers drawing abstracts design on the skin of her back. It might just be his favorite canvas to paint on from now, he muses before chastising himself at the onslaught of filthy thoughts tagging along. A playful slap on his abdomen takes his mind out of the gutter, "don’t ruin the moment," y/n says in fake admonition before placing a tender kiss on the spot she just abused. 

"M’sorry, love. M’just really chuffed to be in your bed finally," the last word reminding her that while she’s struggled to come to term with her feelings for him, ransacking her mind for a possible change of heart, he’d only seen her in but one light. The revelation still has her floored and giddy, "can I ask you something?" she asks as there was still one question pacing back and forth the pathways of her mind. Harry hums in acquiescence, "anythin’ love, by brain is yours."  

She feels his hand cradling her skull followed by a small peck to her forehead, and she smiles at the gesture, "why did you stay away that night at the exhibition when you got the prize? Why not coming forward?" It’s been bugging her brain since it happened. Although she didn’t have much insight on anything at the time, most of the pieces of the puzzle fell in place after the big reveal; but this, she still can’t make sense of.

Harry lets out a long breath, organizing his thoughts, "two reasons," he starts off tiredly. "One, I kinda like having this secret business going on, and like, as long as nobody knows, I am in control of how and when it happens, you know? And the moment I let go of that, I can’t go back." He searches her face for any hint of confusion but she’s just patiently listening. "Two, when we bumped into each other at the gala, I got convinced you’d never see me differently regardless of how good a painter I was; and that had become a big part of who El Patrón was." 

It’s the first time she hears his alter ego’s name from his mouth and with how flowingly natural it sounded coming out of his lips, y/n suspects that it’d been a conscious decision on his part. She recalls their interaction that night, the way they fell in their usual ways of ping-ponging vindictive words until one of them has enough and leaves the premises (usually y/n). A lump starts forming in her throat at the recollection of all the other fights they’ve had and how they’d all been pointless wastes of time and energy, now that she knows she is meant to be in his arms. She wishes things could have been different but the warmth of his body around her overweighs her regrets. They’re here now, looking bright toward the future, and it’s all that matters.

"I’ll keep your secret if you want, be the Lilly to your Hannah Montana," she tells him lightly before they both laugh at the silly reference. 

Happiness and glee has Harry tightening his hold around her shoulder, "nah, I don’t wanna play double-agents anymore. I wanna be the guy who gets the girl." He dips his head to catch her lips between his own, reveling in their newfound intimacy. Turning her face against his chest, Y/n impresses her bashful smile on his swallow-tattooed skin, before she lays a trail of pecks tickling the area underneath his armpits, "well, you got me now."

➪ Masterlist

[remakethestars]

RAVENCLAW 💙🦅🤎

Headcanons.

❝Even in the blackness, light can be found. My enemy can be outsmarted.❞

— Alex Hirsch, Journal 3

This is my house, y'all; buckle up!

Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, & Slytherin. Headcanon masterlist.

The door'll let you in for witty responses.

We prop it open during exam season, when everyone's coming back from dinner, on party nights, & when no one can solve the riddle.

Questions become more difficult to answer after curfew.

Everyone waits outside & pretends not to know first night until the first-years figure it out.

Today's riddle & answer posted on the back of the door every morning; check before you leave just in case.

Sometimes you find the prefects debating over what the answer is; no one leaves the common room until someone's figured it out, so sometimes, the entirety of Ravenclaw is late to breakfast.

Again, if we absolutely can’t, we’ll prop it open.

If the door’s propped open and you remove the prop, we’ll use the guillotine on you.

Everyone has at least one hill to die on.

There's a podium by the fireplace with a record book on it of all the books in Ravenclaw's library that you can ask for help finding books from (pages flip in their own). 

If you’re in a reading slump, describe what you're looking for; we've probably got it!

If you don't like writing & highlighting in the books, it'll disappear while you have it, but everyone's free to mark in them. 

So good at reading their own messy notes and the notes their friends wrote they can read a doctor's handwriting.

And there are notes everywhere. As organized as some Raveclaws wish they could be, you can't make notebooks & journals as organized as Google Doc & Word documents. Unless, ya know … someone made a spell for that — hold on, I gotta write that down!

Professors find notes — ideas for spells & potions — on the back of homework & tests. More knowledgeable teachers will add their ideas or advice before handing it back.

Everyone leaves a copy of their favorite book with annotations before they leave seventh year. 

There's a coffee/tea cart in the common room. 

Hallways to the dorms are covered in graffiti from students long passed.

Dorms branch off based on your year. 

Girls can walk into the boy's dorms & vice versa. 

All rooms are extended for more space.

Beds are built into the wall like window seats & have bookshelves where the head and footboards should be. 

Dark blue curtains can be drawn shut if you're feeling introverted. 

Trunks go under the bed, so they're kinda high off the ground.

Cast an extension charm if you’re claustrophobic.

At the end of every year, everyone congregates in the common room, someone casts glisseo on the stairs to Ravenclaw tower, & everyone slides their trunks down (it's called "the trunk shoving").

No one gives a single sh¡t about house points.

Ravenclaw’s are always blowing something up & losing points.

Dramatic about stubbing their toe, but super casual about ending up in the hospital wing because they "wanted to test a hypothesis."

If you have a question or don't understand something, ask it loudly in the common room; someone will undoubtedly answer or direct you to another who can.

Just don't use bad grammar, or sixteen people will correct you in unison. 😅

Learn (a) new language(s) in the common room 20:00–21:00 Mon.–Fri.

Tutoring sessions are in the common room at 21:00–22:00 Mon.–Fri. Or ask for private lessons to work around your schedule.

If a particular teacher's sh¡t, we host a class in the common room after dinner.

Also, there're just classes for random stuff: art, budgeting, codes & code-breaking, cooking, dancing, darning, fencing, ice skating (in the winter months), knot tying, lock picking, makeup, Morse code, muggle martial arts, sewing…

First years are all offered a class on note taking.

A lot of us do our homework on Friday night so we don't have to worry about it all weekend, so there're no party activities tonight, but you can play a muggle board game if you want.

Karaoke on Saturday nights.

Dungeons & Dragons on Sunday nights.

D&D’s swapped out for a play once a month; screw the theater ban! (For an explanation of Hogwarts’s theater ban, see Albus Dumbledore’s notes on “The Fountain of Fair Fortune” in The Tales of Beedle the Bard.)

Morning yoga in the common room — feel free to join; we'll teach you some poses.

Ask around; whatever you're looking for — info, candy, contraband — someone probably hands it out, sells it, can get it for you, and/or can tell you where to find it.

Pass around a spell that allows them to clean themselves. Who has time for showering?

And a potion that gives them the same feeling & energy as if they slept. Who has time for sleeping?

Yes, we're building a guillotine in the common room.

Please don't utilize it in the decapitation of any living person or thing (unless it's the Snape or Umbridge)!

Our next project is a carousel. With working lights & everything.

Yes, we're building a house of cards in the common room; please don't blow on it.

Be quiet until noon on the weekends or get hexed.

Thank Merlin they teach sign language in the common room every year & everyone knows enough to get by.

Parties are highly regulated.

People volunteer to walk people back to their dorms & put up protection charms so you don't get assaulted. Those people are vetted with Veritaserum first to confirm the authenticity of their intentions.

People often get into academic debates, which can get a bit loud; just silencio them & move on.

The entrances to the dorms are hidden behind moving bookshelves.

The Ravenclaw copy of Hogwarts: A History will tell you more than you realized you needed to know; there're enough notes in the margins to make a second book, including how to enter the kitchens, how to sneak out if the castle, how to find the Room of Requirement…

They've located more secret passages & rooms in Hogwarts using spells they created than the Marauders were aware of.

First-years are told how to put extension charms on their backpacks so they're not heavy — that's a crap-ton of stairs.

There's an incredibly thick book by a armchair near the fireplace that's full of testaments of Ravenclaw's alumni. "What's one thing you wish you'd known when you started Hogwarts?" First-years are encouraged to flip through it.

And taught a low-concentration spell for levitating books while laying down so your arms don't get tired (flick wand to turn page).

Common room's extended to fit all kinds of activities (and the bookshelves).

Some third-years built an aquaponic system on top of one of the window seats; take a cucumber, if you want, or stop to look at the fish.

Again, explosions are not uncommon. (Please don’t drop any explosives in the fish tank. As water isn’t as compressible as air, this will kill the fish.)

Everyone just kinda glances over to make sure you’re okay before going back to what they were doing.

There's always a record playing.

They host a hike through the Forbidden Forest once a week, because what even are rules?

If you hear an intelligent conversation taking place, feel free to sit down & listen or jump in!

The wind whistles against the windows all year round, but they've been charmed to keep water out.

Played The Floor is Lava before it was a meme.

There's a two-way mirror on the wall above the fireplace. There's a muggle television on the other side. No one's sure whose T.V. it is, but a lady comes in in the mornings in hair curlers & watches the news.

She puts in V.H.S. tapes of Disney movies at the start of term. Hypothesis says it's for the first years & this person's a half-blood or a muggle-born.

Sometimes, people work together to solve the Friday crossword in The Daily Prophet. It's the hardest all week.

Look at each other like they're the camera in The Office when someone says something stupid.

Oh, boy, if someone's found a really good mystery book… That sh¡t’s getting magically copied & passed around. We discuss theories at meals, pass notes in class, & set up a murder board in the common room.

Actually, Ravenclaw house has solved a number of murders in its free time.

Visit my Ravenclaw YouTube playlist & Pinterest board.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Of Bruised Knees and Climbed Trees

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Collection/Series: Western AU- Putting Down Roots

Pairing: Sheriff Din Djarin x Female Teacher Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Rating: G

Warnings: N/A

Summary: He has always been gentle with the little one’s but it is nothing compared to the sureness with which he climbs the tall tree and gentleness with which he reassures one of your students that they can in fact make the climb down and they’ll be okay.

Notes: We all love papa Din and is there anything sweeter than this guy being all gentle and kind to scared little one’s? Pure dad material.

Archiveofourown

Lunch times at the schoolhouse were never quiet affairs. After eight years as a school teacher you had learnt that if something was going to happen, it was inevitably going to happen at lunch time when the children were out of the classroom doors and in the fresh air. Touch wood, you think touching the wall of the schoolhouse, you had yet to have anything too dramatic happen this school year. There had been no fights between the older boys and girls which had in previous years had a tendency to happen as frustrations and teenage angst boiled over. There had been no major injuries, no children had gone missing at lunch time, and no one had attempted to tattoo another child like Davey McDonald that one year. He had definitely been the source of most of your schoolhouse drama. With him having completed his school last year, perhaps, you thought, this year might prove to be uneventful. 

This year had been rather tame and as you stood on the wooden porch of the schoolhouse watching your children make the most of their hour to run, get fresh air, and eat their lunches, you couldn’t help but smile. You watched Grogu, Mary-Beth and Timmy playing at the small pond, more of a puddle really, that rested near the school. Mary-Beth was showing both boys how to skip stones and Grogu seemed impressed every single time she managed to get a perfect skip. Timmy fumbled at his attempt, stone landing in the water with a sploosh! 

Your eyes drifted to the older kids, eating their lunch and giggling together in groups. The boys had separated off from the girls, no doubt more and more aware of their differences as courting became a new interest in their eyes. Soon you’d have the usual problems of teenage love on your hands, sweet, but always requiring your eyes to be peeled. While the boys would face no repercussions for a dalliance, the girls would, and you always made sure to keep a chaperone's watchful eye on them each year. Much to their annoyance. 

You spotted Jerome sitting on his own, sketchbook and pencil in hand and carefully walked your way over, picking through the rocks and fallen leaves as the weather began to turn colder. He was wrapped up full, only a little bit of his face visible beneath a large scarf and fluffy hat.

“Do you mind if I sit with you, Jerome?” 

“Not at all, Miss.” He quickly goes back to his drawing and despite the desire to peek you resist the urge and wait for him to offer to show you, if that were to happen at all. You pride yourself on creating relationships born from trust with your pupils and part of that was letting them come to you rather than demanding they share things. Jerome had become more willing to share his art bit by bit, preening under your admiration and praise and you hoped that it would be enough to encourage him to pursue his dream of art school. You had a few old acquaintances you hoped would be willing to offer him patronage if they saw his work, but that was a few years off and for now, you were just content to provide him with kind words and support.

He doesn’t ask if you’d like to have a look, just shuffles the book over into your lap with a shy look away, not wanting to see your reaction. They’re beautiful little drawings of the world around him. The daisies in the grass, the leaves on the ground, the nearly bare trees. A few sketches of the other children playing. Each has careful line strokes, hashing to shade and a style to them that gives them an almost classical look. Smooth, soft. 

“These are beautiful, Jerome! You really have a gift!” You praise him, carefully handing the book back for him to return to his sketching. The two of you fall into companionable silence as he draws and you watch the children around you. 

It is when you go to ring the bell to draw them back into class with a ‘Lunch is over, boys and girls! Time to get back to work!’, that you notice a crowd gathering quite a distance away from the school underneath some trees. With a quick request that Jerome keep an eye on the younger children, you stride your way over, hands lifting your skirt from the dirt. 

“What’s going on? David, why are you all…” You trail off as you look up to see the exact reason they’re all crowding beneath the tall oak tree. 

Lilly-Anne is shaking at the very top, arms wrapped tightly around the branch she’d managed to make it to. The girl is barely ten, and has always been one of your more adventurous and confident children, but in that moment she is clearly petrified and you very much consider climbing the tree yourself to get her. 

“Lilly-Anne, dear, are you stuck?” You can’t think of a possible reason but that fact, that she is stuck in some way whether mental or physical. 

“I-I-I I can’t get down! I-” She cuts herself off in panic, clinging even tighter to the branch as a brisk wind causes the smaller branches to shake. 

“I’m coming to get you! Don’t worry, sweetheart! It’s going to be okay!” You say, sounding much more confident than you actually are about your ability to climb a thirty foot tall oak tree in a dress and heeled boots. You haven’t climbed a tree since you were thirteen years old and have never been a particularly fan of heights, but needs must. 

You’re planting a foot on a knot in the tree and reaching up for a lower branch when spurs clink behind you and a familiar deep drawl sounds out from behind you. 

“Everything alright, Miss Y/N?” You’re in truth rather relieved when you turn to see Din standing there, thumbs tucked into his belt behind the buckle. The worn hat he never seems to be without is tilted back as he looks over you, your gaggle of children and up into the tree. The bemused expression turns to one of concern when he sees Lilly-Anne at the top, immediately pulling his hat and holsters off and placing them on the ground. 

Before you can even reply to his question he has gentle hands on your waist twisting you away from the tree before placing a boot in the same spot your foot was moments ago. It doesn’t irritate you that he has done all this without asking, instead you are relieved. You know you are not dressed for tree climbing nor are you proficient at it, Din is better suited for the task and you are glad that he is here. 

“Lilly-Anne, Ad’ika, it’s the sheriff! I’m coming to get you, little one, don’t you worry about a thing!”  He keeps his voice even, soothing, the same voice he uses whenever Grogu has a nightmare. She might be feet up in the air but even from down at the base of the tree he can see how scared she is, can hear her whimpering and crying out for someone to come help her. Like any scared little kid.

He’s not really thinking much of anything, in truth, not when he sees the little girl terrified and crying at the top of the tall tree. There’s a memory from his past, a small boy at the top of a large tree, his adopted father climbing to get him with gentle words. He remembers the fear of being at the top, of being so confident in your ability to get all the way up that you never considered just how you’d make your way back down. 

He’s not scared of heights, not anymore. His adoptive father had made sure of that. Taught him to climb right back down, how to face that fear that makes you freeze. It’s not a hard climb, and each foothold is easy to find. The tree is sturdy, thick branches and a wide trunk. Old, older than him, older than any of them and he wonders how many children have climbed it only to need a guardian or parent to come and rescue them from the top. 

“It’s alright, little one! I’m on my way, you just hang tight, okay?”

“O-o-okay…” He likes Lilly-Anne, she likes his adventure stories the most. The little wild card a born adventurer herself, she always talks about becoming a famous gunslinger, constantly badgering him to teach her how to shoot. Adventurous spirit, stubborn, but he’s never seen her scared of anything. It breaks Din’s heart to see her usual confidence and fearlessness missing. 

You’re worried. That’s the best way to describe what you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach and it’s nail biting, stomach churning worry. A part of you knows that Din is competent in a million different ways, that he’ll be fine climbing a tree that a ten year old managed to scale and that he’ll be fine bringing her back down. Another part of you worries that maybe he’ll slip or she’ll slip or both of them will slip. The thought of either of them getting hurt sends you into a pacing sort of panic at the bottom of the tree, eyes on them the whole time, watching Din scale as your feet move you back and forth, to and fro. 

He’s at the top before you can even blink, bracing himself besides her and talking to her low enough that you can’t hear. She’s shaking and you’re not sure if it is the wind or the fear that does it to her. He’s steady as a rock, it doesn’t surprise you, Din has, from the moment he walked into town, been steady, stable, and competent. He brings an ease to everything he does and seems to trust in his own skills beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“Hey, Ad’ika, I’m right here, okay? Look at me…” He knows this is the hard part, how to convince her to come down even with his help. She is so scared and he can now finally see the tear tracks over her chubby cheeks and the redness of her eyes. This little girl is so terribly scared and it makes his heart ache for her. But, he promises himself, that he’ll be the stable presence she needs, that he’ll be calm and collected for her even with a thirty foot drop beneath them and you pacing the ground below in worry. 

Lilly-Anne’s bottom lip is trembling and her knuckles are white from holding on so tight, but she looks at him and seems to calm a little at his presence beside her. “I need you to hold onto me okay, sweetheart? I’m going to come closer and I need you to hold onto me so I can help you down, okay?” He knows it’s a big ask, knowing she’d have to pull herself away from the safety of the branch and trust that he’d keep her safe and secure, but she nods her head at him with a little whimper and he knows she’s brave enough to do this. 

“You’re doing so well, Ad’ika.” Din praises her as he sidles as close as he can, helping her, with one arm, wrap her own around his neck and rest her legs around his hips. She’s a little big to be carried normally, getting to that age where her legs are getting a little too long and her body doesn’t fit as easily as Grogu’s would against his hip, but she’s light and easy to wrap around him as he secures his own feet and hands getting ready to make the climb down. 

“You got all the way up here, Lilly-Anne, you can get back down, okay? Look,” Din begins the climb down, at each handhold and foot placement he points out to her that she could grab here or step there. He wants her to understand that if she could get all the way up, she could have made her way down. While he’s more than happy to help her, he knows her. She is an adventurous child, likely to climb a tree again and likely to need to make her way back down. Just like his buir had done, he was determined to make sure she was never scared of getting back down again. “You just need to place your hands where they fit best, move them down with you, a step at a time, Ad’ika. A step at a time.”

“It’s...it’s scary though…”

“I’ll let you in on a lil’ secret…” He turns his head to give her a meaningful look with a soft smile, stopping where he is just for a moment, “it’s not being scared that matters, it’s being brave enough to do it anyway.” 

People think him fearless. The fearless sheriff, cleaning up the town, keeping people safe, facing down men with guns and hunting down criminals. He’s not. He’s scared of a lot of things, mostly Grogu, you or the other little ones getting hurt. Losing you from his life. Losing his son. Being a disappointment to his son. That scares him more than any threat to his own body, but still in the face of that fear he is brave. Bravery has never been the absence of fear, it’s doing what you need to do anyway, knowing that it terrifies you. His buir had taught him that and he’d teach Lilly-Anne that, teach Grogu that. 

As he continues down the tree he can see her process his words. Brain working hard behind big blue eyes before she tugs on the back of his shirt to stop him where he is. Once again he stops climbing. You’re still pacing below, every time they stop you grow more anxious wondering what on earth could be happening. Did Din lose his footing? Was he faltering in some way? Was Lilly-Anne panicking? 

But, that isn’t the case. When he asks her what’s wrong, she simply tells him she wants to try and climb down on her own, with his help. He can feel pride blooming in his chest, like a new bud opening up to the world in spring, and so he carefully helps her off of his hip and adjusts her footing and handholds before he moves below her so he can help her ease her way down and catch her if she slips. 

She takes those first steps backwards, tentatively, scared of where she should put her feet, but each step after becomes more confident until they’re climbing at a decent pace back down the tree. She is a natural climber.

“You’re doing so well, Lil’ika! I knew you could do it, darlin’.” Din’s voice is quiet but now half way down you can actually hear him speaking to her, little praises at every successful step, reminders of how brave she is, how good she is doing. It eases some of that panic within you, warms your chest at the sounds of him, so utterly paternal and kind. 

She is smiling wider as she gets nearer to the bottom, you can see that the fear has left her, the panic gone, replaced with a bravery that you are thankful to see. She has always been a brave child, an adventurous child, fearless. The thought that she would lose that had terrified you almost as much as the thought that she was stuck at the top of that tree. 

The moment her feet touch the ground again you are fussing over her like a mother hen, “Lilly-Anne, what possessed you to climb such a tall tree?!” You both do not want to stifle her adventurous spirit and at the same time feel a sense of responsibility to teach her to think before taking potentially dangerous actions. It is the one cruelty of being a teacher and not a friend, you must always tell them off for doing something which could have ended with them hurt because no one else would. “You could have been hurt, sweetheart.” You soften the blow with the endearment, checking her over for cuts and bruises. Her hands are a little rough, but otherwise she is fine and despite your fussing and admonishment she is still smiling. 

“I got back down, Miss Y/N! I got back down!” You sigh out from your place kneeling in front of her, a small smile making its way to your face. Before you tug lightly at one of the blonde braids of her hair. You want to be stern, but can’t find it in yourself to be when she had in fact managed to get all the way back down, when she was so clearly proud of herself. How could you bring yourself to crush that happiness? 

“Yes, yes, you did, well done, sweet girl...now that you’ve nearly given me a heart attack, why don’t you thank the sheriff and go get sorted for your next lesson?” You can still feel the residual adrenaline running through you, your heart is still beating faster than it should. To think you were going to climb up that tree to get her, in a full dress and heeled boots...you suspected the outcome would have been the two of you stuck up that tree, not just one. What a sight that would have made. 

“Thank you, Sheriff Djarin!” He’s buckling his holster on as she turns to him, already getting back into sheriff mode as he places that worn hat over dark brown curls. He cuts an impressive figure as sheriff, but you most enjoy him at his softest, when he lets the walls fall for the children and shows you who he really is underneath all that responsibility and posturing. 

“You’re welcome, Ad’ika, you remember how to get down for next time?” 

“Uh huh!” Like all children she nods her head so vigorously you briefly worry she’ll concuss herself, but know that they always seem to be fine afterwards.

“Good. Go get ready for your lesson.” He pats the top of her head with a soft smile. You only ever see that smile around you and the children, including Grogu, of course. The two of you watch her run off, the other children in the group following her at your insistence that they better be ready at the desks by the time you return. 

You know you need to move soon, they are waiting for their next set of lessons before the day ends and you have things to teach them. Things you always stress are important. But, you can’t ever resist spending a little more time with Din, even more so when it comes to thanking him for his hand in helping you with the children. He is always there when you need him, when his support or involvement is required. 

“Thank you, Din...I...I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t turned up. I’m sure we both would have been stuck up there if I’d tried to get her…” There’s something about being alone with Din that excites you more than it should. Perhaps, it’s the reminder that you’re an unmarried woman, he’s an unmarried man, and the two of you certainly shouldn’t be spending time alone together away from other people’s eyes. There is no one here to watch you, to ensure everything is polite and appropriate. It shouldn’t mean more than it does. It should just be a moment to thank him, something simple, devoid of any deep feelings, but like everything that happens with Din, there is always more going on beneath the surface. Your feelings are always deep and hard to understand with him. 

“Cabur’ika. You never have to thank me. For anything.” He’s almost bashful looking when he smiles at you from under the brim of his hat, face tilted down just so. You can see the hint of a flush to his tanned cheeks and the dimples pull at the sides of his mouth when he smiles.

“Yes...yes I do. I hope you...I hope you understand just how much I appreciate your help, Din. You...you do more for me than anyone else in this town and,” You gently reach for one of his large hands, holding it between the two of your own. His fingers are calloused and rough, his skin warm to the touch even in the autumn air. “I really do appreciate it. I appreciate you. So thank you.” 

He’s at a loss for words. Not just because of your own sweet ones, but because your eyes are so soft and large, staring up at him like he’s hung the moon, like he’s done something above and beyond. When in truth he has just done his job, the right thing. Supporting you as the school teacher will always be the right thing and certainly it isn’t all duty. He finds you to be beautiful, sweet and soft, kind, yet strong and fierce. Your treatment of his son, his Grogu warms his heart. Your deep love for your children makes him want to sigh like a lovesick school boy and your treatment of him, your acceptance, open arms to a man who should scare you, makes him want to be around you all the more. From the moment he met you, you had been welcoming and soft. That hadn’t changed and everything in him screams at him to do something, say something, hold your hand tighter, kiss your lips, but that’s too fast and too soon. It would be a dishonour to you, you deserved him taking his time, finding the right words and actions to court you, to prove that he was worthy of your time and affection. 

So instead he just smiles at you, squeezes your hands tightly, once, twice, before thanking you. There are few parting words, a slow goodbye in which you both are reluctant to pull away from each other, but a call from the schoolhouse porch draws you away from him with a sad little smile. 

His chest hurts so badly that he rubs at it with a palm. The hurt is a good sort though. Not the blistering pain of a gunshot wound or slash from a knife, but the ache of...of love. That’s what it is, he has to admit it to himself, it’s love. New and small, growing larger each day, but love.

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

Mando’a Translations:

Ad’ika - Little one

Lil’ika - Basically little Lily. The ‘ika is a diminutive suffix and often you take the first 3 words of a child's name like Gro’ika to make a familiar name. 

Cabur’ika - Lit. Little Guardian, but Din’s term of endearment for reader after ‘Never Mess With a School Teacher’ because she is a true guardian of her kids. 

Buir - Mother/Father/Parent

[cyberloops]

Some quick studio updates:

My spouse was having a hard time at their new job, so when my boss mentioned that he was looking for another person to do the same sort of tech helpdesk work that I was doing, my spouse decided to go for the opportunity. On the one hand, it means less stress. On the other hand... less money. Our income is going to be cut by about 1/3. So we really need to find some way to work from home to earn money to make up for that. So this week, while my spouse had a few days off before the new job starts, we buckled down and worked on getting our home office/studio situation set up in a way that will work for us.

Originally we had planned on keeping all the computers in the office (not the room in the picture here) and dividing the studio (the room in this picture) into halves. The half now taken up by the giant desk on the left would be where I’d set up my studio, the area where the other 2 desks are would be a workbench for crafting type stuff, and the drafting table would be where it is. But between the plague causing us to switch jobs and work from home and everything else that’s happened... well... plans change. We couldn’t both work from home in the office, so my spouse had to get a desk and set it up in the studio. And the little corner desk my spouse had gotten for the office way far too small for all of the paperwork that their new job entailed. So we had to get the giant desk.

Since we’d like to get back into the habit of streaming, we decided that we needed to once again change the plans we had for our studio. But with less income, that meant no more buying furniture. We need to work with what we have. So the giant desk that takes up half the room will stay, and will become the graphics powerhouse of the studio, with my spouse’s new computer in the middle, a big monitor on the left, and the graphics tablet monitor on the right. Unfortunately the USB C port is on the left side of the computer and the right side of the graphics tablet... which means we need a longer USB C to USB C cable if we want to use all three monitors. (We can use an HDMI cable instead, but then we wouldn’t be able to use the other big monitor.)

I moved the smaller corner desk from the office into the space between my studio and my spouse’s, and got rid of the little wooden table that was kind of in my way on the right side of my studio. Now we have an entire wall of nothing but desk. The drafting table is still just out of camera view on the right, so my spouse still has a space for traditional drawing.

You can also see in this picture that I was able to finally rig up a top down view of my studio, the camcorder is attached to a little microphone handle instead of a stand. The little handle came with a different mic, the one that I’ve currently got hooked up to my desktop computer in the office. I’m using a boom mic stand that I had packed away that was a birthday present to me like fifteen years ago. (I’m glad it’s finally getting decent use, I used to have it set up next to my old Windows XP desktop computer that had an M-Audio 10/10 soundcard that had XLR inputs so I could actually record a microphone directly into the computer. But that desktop died about 9 years ago, and I haven’t used that stand since then. I don’t even think they have drivers for the 10/10 for modern versions of Windows anymore.) Ironically, the microphone that came with the boom mic stand is in a little tripod that came with a DIFFERENT mic that crapped out on me and I’m not using anymore, it’s somewhere on that desk studio setup. I don’t know if it’s in camera view, it’s not currently plugged into the mixer, but it’s there if I want to record any vocals. However, that setup means that the camera is also about six feet away from where the computer will be... which means we need a longer USB A to Micro USB cable if I want to stream.

... and after moving all that furniture, getting sweaty and gross, and stressing out my bad knees... I didn’t wanna go to Best Buy to get cables. So we ordered them online, and maybe once we’ve gotten them, we’ll be able to get back to streaming again.

Also, since my spouse got a new, better computer, I’m going to see if their old computer is powerful enough to do basic streaming with just my sound and video setup. It’s (I think) about 9 years old, just like my laptop... but mine was bottom of the line at the time of purchase, and this one was midrange. They have the same amount of RAM and hard drive space, but my spouse’s old computer has about 3 or 4 times the processing power of my dinky little old laptop. So maybe it can handle it. We’ll find out once I get that new cable. If not, well, we’ll see what I can do. Now that we’re past the first few weeks of classes, my job is slowing down a bit, so I’ll have a little more free time and energy. I’d really like to spend some time working on more fun, creative stuff. I suppose I could just say screw it and move my desktop into that room, that’s definitely powerful enough to stream. And if I don’t feel like doing music, I can work on 3d modeling/sculpting instead. Or, hell, I could even go back to doing game streaming when we’re not streaming art or music.

I would love to also get a better chair. Unfortunately, all of the comfortable chairs we have right now are too wide to work with that setup, unless I can figure out a way to move my keyboards to the right side of my studio instead of the left. Which honestly, I could probably do if I just got some longer cables. I went cheap and just got 3 and 4 foot audio and MIDI cables when I first set up the studio, since I was jammed in the corner there. So maybe my last investment in the studio will be to buy a couple of longer audio and MIDI cables just for those two synths.

... and after all that, months and months of setup, investing my pandemic bonus money into setting up the whole studio... I still am finding myself kinda obsessing over the fact that the ONE kind of synth I wanted and still don’t have is one that can do more than 2 operator FM synthesis. I was really debating between the Modal Skulpt or the Korg Volca FM at the time, and the Skulpt only won out for me because it had 4 note polyphony, and I like complex chords. But with our sudden cut in income, I really can’t justify buying another synth anytime soon. So I really should buckle down and work with what I have.

[magalidragon]

#5 in anger management 😏😈

Alrighty then! 😈 Back to Barrister Dany and Judge Jon! In all their dirtiness, lol

#5. “I think you lost your underwear somewhere.”

Jon idly rubbed the ‘Love’ tattoo on his wrist with his opposite thumb, listening to Tyrion complaining over a motion that Dany had just filed on behalf of her client, a motion that Tyrion seemed to have particular angst over.  Jon figured it was because Dany had filed a motion claiming prosecutorial malfeasance, which honestly, given that it was Tyrion Lannister, Jon was pretty sure was 100 percent accurate.

He shifted in the back of the courtroom, glancing at Judge Ashara Dayne, who had transitioned to the Court of Common Pleas.  She smiled in his direction, gave a small wave, and proceeded to rule that she would need time with the motion and until then, court was adjourned, over Tyrion’s protests.  She banged the gavel, and everyone stood, including Jon, waiting for her to depart before they gathered their things.

He walked down the aisle towards the defense table, Dany saying goodbye to her client before the bailiff took him away.  He stopped, waiting on her, and Tyrion wandered over.  “You lost?” he asked.

Jon glanced sideways.  He smiled politely.  “Tyrion, lovely to see you of course.”  He lifted his brows.  “You said something?”

“I was just wondering if you were lost.”

“Your Honor.”

Tyrion frowned.  “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I was just saying ‘Your Honor’, because last I checked I’m still a judge even if it in juvenile court.”  He rarely ever played that hand, but it was fun to play with Tyrion, because he was such an arsehole.  

Tyrion glared at him, gritting out, “Your Honor”, like it was glue in his mouth, and stormed away.  

Dany stepped over to him, lightly pecking his lips.  “That was fun.”  She frowned at him, head cocking slightly. It made her earrings bob, sending bright red little sparkles of light around her in the sunlight through the wide courtroom windows.  “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to pop by.”

“Well I’m glad, let’s go back to your office.”  

He walked at her side, his robes billowing out around him; he’d forgotten to take them off when he left his courtroom, not usually one to wear them beyond chambers.  He rubbed his wrist again, wincing at the slight pain shooting through his radius.  “Your block this morning still hasn’t worn off,” he complained.  

She giggled.  “I’ll make it up to you.”

“And how, pray tell will you do that?”

“You’ll see,” she said airily, checking her phone, and let out a sound that most dogs probably wouldn’t even be able to hear it was so high-pitched.  “Oh!”  She turned it towards him and sighed.  “Look at Lya!  She’s such a strong little girl!”

“Dany, she has our son in a headlock.”

“Hmm, he’ll get out of it.”

The terrible twos were indeed truly terrible, especially with their twins.  Daemon and Lya loved each other like siblings did, falling asleep in each other’s arms most evenings, but only after they had ripped at each other’s hair, thrown each other’s food, and had now begun fighting in a manner suggesting they had inherited their mother’s rage issues.  He would need to get them into Arya’s martial arts class soon.  He was positive Lya was already adept at Faceless, because even in utero she’d been hiding, using her brother as a shield until finally the doctor was able to space out the rather ‘erratic’ heartbeat and discover it was two babies, not one.  

They entered his office via the back entrance, bypassing Gilly and Satin, who he believed—hoped—were out to lunch.  He moved to unzip his robes, idly checking the schedule in front of him on the desk to see he didn’t have court until later that afternoon.  He would work on some judgments until then, or rather…he caught sight of Dany, who had shaken off her blazer and removed her heels, padding over to him silently.  He arched his brow.  “Can I help you Mrs. Snow?”

“Hmm…that depends Your Honor.”

“On what?”

Dany pulled at the sides of his robes, her fingers flicking the zipper.  She lifted her eyes, large and sinful, the lavender ring around her pupil disappearing into deep indigo, her lips parting to allow her tongue to dart out and wet the top one, voice husking:  “On what you decide.”

“Decide?” he gasped, her hands tracing over his chest.  He closed his eyes, suppressing the growl deep from within.  He dropped his hands to her hips.  “And what do I have to decide?”

“Hmm…the decision before the Court is…” She pushed him, easily, down into his chair.  He shifted backwards, his dress slacks incredibly uncomfortable, the front already tenting out as he grew harder with every whisper of her words.  She overed over him, her hands on either side, on the chair’s armrests.  The deep ‘v’ of her dress gaped, giving him an unobstructed view of her perfect breasts.  He moved, wanting to fill his hands with them, but she shook her head, pushing him back into the seat.  “Nope.  You have to decide.”  She licked her lips again, whispering.  “Do you want my mouth or…” Her fingers traced over the front of the robe, separating it, and began to pop his shirt buttons.  “Or my cunt?”

He released a high-pitched whine, shifting in the seat again, gasping.  “Both?”

“Nope, you get one or the other.”

Eyes clenched shut, her scent catching him, floral and spicy, he couldn’t possibly decide.  Her fingers began to undo his belt buckle and it seemed she was going to decide for him, but she stopped, hands on his hips.  “Dany,” he gasped, eyes springing open, seeing her smirking at him.  “I can’t.”

“Nope, Your Honor must decide.”

Fuck, every single time she called him that he swore he could come.  He shook his head fast, decision made, when she licked her lips again, bright red, the same color as her dress.  “Fuck, your mouth.”

“Hmm, very well.”  

She fell to her knees and pulled at his pants, his hips lifting to let his cock spring out, and she frowned, cocking her head.  “Hmm…I think you lost your underwear somewhere.”  She grinned up.  “Your Honor.”

It was his turn to smirk.  “I think they’re still somewhere in the couch from this morning.”

“So you’ve been commando in court all morning?”

“Hmm…I suppose I have been.”

“My, my, my, whatever will the Minister of Justice have to say to that?”

“Fuck, I hope she never finds out and can we not talk about Olenna Tyrell now?”  

She licked at him, like a lollipop, from base to tip, silencing anything he had to say on the matter, her mouth easily sliding over him, engulfting him in her heat.  His hands flew to her hair, wrapping the silky strands around his fists, hlding it from her face as she worked him over, her throat a hot, tight suction around him, taking him deep before she let go again, teasing and taunting, her hand moving in tandem with her mouth, while her other scratched lightly up over his chest.  

Seven hells, he thought, over and over again, his cries caught in his throat, a fist coming to cover his mouth so no one could potentially overhear what was happening in his office.  He made the mistake of glancing down at her again, her eyes wide and watery, spittle and precum around her lips and chin, and he forced himself not to thrust into her suddenly, but couldn’t help it when his hips lifted, just in time for her to pop off of him.  

“What,” he began, startled, and desperate to come, so close, his body quivering and the tingle in the base of his spine already starting, warning.  

Dany hiked her skrit up over her hips, pushed aside her red thong, and gripping him, slid down easily, not stopping her long, low moan.  He swallowed any further sounds she might make with his lips, kissing her hard, one hand still wrapped in her hair and the other coming down to her back, helping her grind into him, rubbing her clit on his pelvis as he arched up into her, hips rolling together, both of them so close.  

He came fast and hard, flooding into her tight heat, hips juddering with each wave, and didn’t stop until she came too, a few seconds later, gripping him like a vice.  He couldn’t see anything, just blinding light behind his eyelids and damn well couldn’t hear much either, nothing but a muffled “Love you.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, seeking her mouth again, whispering.  “I love you too.”

They remained ine ach other’s arms a moment longer, until he softened and pulled out and she climbed off of him.  In the bathroom they cleaned up and made themselves presentable, no one the wiser at what might have just happened.  He kissed her goodbye, said he’d see her at the gym later before they picked up the kids at Auntie Arya’s, and reluctantly unlocked the door to see her out.

“Mrs. Snow,” Satin said primly, waiting for the door to open.

Dany grinned.  “Satin.”  She waved.  “Bye darling, see you later.”

“Bye,” he called, watching Dany sashay out.  He grinned and nodded for Satin to come into the office, taking a seat in his chair while Satin moved to the couch.  He took the papers that they were set to go over and lifted up his pen.  “Alright, so first I want to talk about the Rast judgment…”

Satin wasn’t saying anything, not even paying attention.  Jon frowned. “What?”

Satin leaned over the edge of the couch and picked up a pair of black silk boxers, holding them up on the end of his pen.  He smirked.  “These yours, Boss?”

“Hmm,” Jon noted, frowning.  “So that’s where they were.”

Smutty One Liners Prompts

[shadow-assassin-blix]

Parent Trap

Part 1

A/N: It’s here yall. The Marcus Moreno x Reader Parent Trap AU. There are some swears. Some point of view switching but I note it in bold. 

‘Thoughts’ “Speak” 

The Hero:

Marcus Moreno was in the middle of meeting with the Heroics. Going over assignments, and potential threats to be on the lookout. He was listening to Miracle Guy talk about something ridiculous when his cellphone went off. He glanced down, and his eyes widen in surprised. It was Missy’s school.

He quickly answered it, saying, “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Moreno? This is Principal O’Shaughnessy. If you could please come down to the school, as soon as possible. There’s been an incident involving your daughter and two other students,” Came an older male voice.

“I’m on my way,” Marcus got up and rushed out, not caring that he left in the middle of a meeting.

The Artist:

Y/N Graves was a simple woman. She worked as artist, which meant she was often home, elbow deep into whatever project she was working on currently. That was where she was when her phone rang.

She dropped her paint brush to answer it with a cheery, “‘Ello?”

“Miss Graves, this is Principal O’Shaughnessy, your daughter Artemis? Was involved in an incident at school with two other students. If you could please come as soon as possible,” Came a man’s voice.

“Be there soon,” She hung up, quickly cleaning her brushes before she left.

She hopped into her car and drove to the school; thankful it was only a couple blocks away. She made her way inside and to the principal’s office. She stops short when she sees her daughter standing near another little girl, with long curly black hair and dark eyes. Before noticing the third kid, a boy, who was sitting in a plastic chair, with a black eye and tissues up his nose to stop the bleeding.

“What the fu—frick?” She whispered taking in everything with slight horror.

Artemis giggled softly at her almost swearing. She goes to say something to her when she felt someone crash into her from behind. She stumbled forward trying to regain her balance. She turned around to yell but stopped.

“Marcus?” She asked staring at a face she hadn’t seen in years.

“Shade?” He parroted calling her by her nickname, one she hadn’t heard in years.

She then asked, “Please tell me that one is not yours,” pointing at the boy.

“No. The other one behind you,” Marcus said with a chuckle.

Before they could say much more a woman with dyed hair, lululemons and a tank top came in, her voice high-pitched with outrage at the sight of her kid.

“What happened to my baby!?” She screeched out.

The Principal cleared his throat at that time, to gain everyone’s attention. Shade moved over to stand by her daughter, as Marcus did the same.

“Mrs. Delaney, it appears that your son was bullying, Miss Moreno here. Miss Moreno tried to walk away from him several times, but your son continued to follow her, and even began shoving her. That was when Miss Graves stepped in, and punched your son,” Mr. O’Shaughnessy explained reading off an incident report.

“Or at least that was what stated from the teacher’s watching. Miss Moreno, would you like to tell us what happened?” He directed his attention to Marcus’ daughter.

“Tommy was teasing me about not having active powers. He kept saying mean things like ‘oh your dad must be disappointed in having a lame daughter.’ And stuff like that. I tried to walk away from him several times, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. Artemis came over and told him to go away. When he didn’t, she punched him, telling him to leave me alone,” Missy recounted staring at the ground.

“What lies! My Tommy would never! I hope you plan on punishing them!” Mrs. Delaney exclaimed angrily.

Shade rolled her eyes to the high heavens and stared at this dramatic woman, pointedly.

“My daughter defended her friend. Against a bully. If anyone should be punished, it should be your kid. It’s not our fault you raised an ass,” Shade sassed, crossing her arms.

Mrs. Delaney gasped in exaggerated horror, even going so far as to covering her son’s ears. The girls giggled quietly at her, and Marcus was trying not to laugh.

“Mrs. Graves, if you could please refrain from the foul language. Mrs. Delaney, I have warned you multiple times about Tommy’s behaviors. This is the last straw. He will be suspended for 2 weeks. As for Miss Graves, seeing as this is your first offense, you will get a warning. I do not tolerate fighting on school grounds, got it?” Mr. O’Shaughnessy cut in.

Mrs. Delaney grabbed her son, muttering something ‘I have never..’  and left.

The kids still have a couple hours left of class, but the principal gave them permission to leave early if they wished. The girls went and got their bags and whatever assignments they were going to miss for the day. Marcus and Shade stood outside by the entrance waiting for them.

The Kids:

Missy looked over at Artemis and asked, “So. You saw our parents act weird when they saw each other right?”

Artemis nodded as she grabbed her jacket and bag. “They clearly know each other. Did you see the way they looked at each?”

“All goo-goo eyed? Yes! I haven’t seen my dad look like that since…” Missy trailed off, thinking in her head, ‘since before my mom passed away.’

Artemis, who had made fast friends with Missy when she moved here a month ago, knew what she was thinking of. Artemis reached out and held her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Missy smiled at her in response and the 2 of them walked out to their parents.

Artemis looked at her mom and Missy’s dad and got an idea, “Mom, can we go get ice cream? I know that fighting is bad and all, but I was defending my friend.”

Her mom sighed, and looked at the two of them, with squinting eyes. She turned to Missy’s dad and said, “What do ya think? Think they’ve earned a treat?”

The Hero:

He looked at the kids and then back at Shade, who had a soft smile. “Sure. Why not?”

The girls cheered and rushed to the cars. “Uh. Pops on 15th St. sound good?” He asked.

“That place still exists? Damn,” Shade chuckled looking off to the side. “Uh. Yeah. Pops sounds good to me. See ya there in a minute.”

Marcus smiled, lightly biting his lip before making his way to his car, as Shade did the same.

Missy was already in the backseat, buckled up and ready to go. The drive to Pops was a quick 10 minutes, and as they made there way inside, they noticed Shade and Artemis hadn’t arrived yet, so they took a seat in a booth. Missy insisted that she sit on the outside, and Marcus complied with a shake of his head.

He heard the door opened and looked up to see Shade standing there and he was thrown back to all the times he took her here on a date. She was still just as beautiful as he remembered her.

The Artist:

As Shade stepped inside, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Pops still looked the same as it did when she was a teenager. She finds Marcus easy enough; he too looked a little dazed at being back here.

Her and Artemis go to join them, Artemis insisting to sit on the outside as well. Shade rolled her eyes and allowed it this one time.

The waitress came up and took their orders. 15 minutes passed and soon 4 milkshakes, 2 large and 2 kids sized in to-go cups, were set in front of them. The girls grabbed theirs and ran off to sit at another table, giggling.

“I feel like we are being set-up,” Shade whispered with a raised eyebrow.

“Possibly,” Marcus agreed, before clearing his throat.

“So. How.. How have you been?” He asked awkwardly.

“Been pretty good. I see you’ve been busy,” She quietly teased nodding to his wedding ring.

“Oh! Um. Yeah. But… uh… not,” He stammered trying to respond.

Shade gave him a look of sudden realization, “How long?”

“About 6 years. Cancer,” He answered lowly not wanting Missy to hear.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I bet she was wonderful,” She said with a sad smile.

“She was. Umm. Ahem. What about you? Ever get married or got someone special waiting at home?” he asked trying to redirect the attention off of him.

“Nope. Uh. Had a boyfriend for a couple years. He left the day I told him I was pregnant. So. It’s been just the 2 of us ever since,” Shade explained after taking a long sip from her milkshake.

“Then he didn’t deserve either of you,” Marcus replied, his voice soft.

Shade smiled, looking down to hide her face.

She cleared her throat and noticed out of the corner of her eye, Missy and Artemis were watching them intently.

“Marcus… I think our kids are trying to set us up,” She muttered. “Glance over at them casually.”

Marcus does so and sees the two of them trying to act nonchalantly but were very much keeping an eye on them.

He chuckled, “No. They���re just.. Concerned. They’re best friends who want to make sure we get along.”

“Mh. I don’t know. My kid can be quite devious. Her favorite movie is The Parent Trap. Well. Next to The Mummy,” Shade wasn’t convinced.

Marcus laughed at that and stared at her softly.

“Not gonna lie… I’ve missed you,” Marcus admitted.

“I missed you as well. Maybe um.. Maybe we can set up a day to catch up?” Shade offered hopeful.

“I’d like that, maybe Saturday? We can leave the kids with my mom for the day. We can… go to the park or that café you like so much? Well. If you still like it that is,” Marcus rambled slightly.

“I do. Sounds like a date,” Shade said confirming the idea.

They exchanged numbers and finished their shakes, before rounding up their kids.

She waved goodbye to him as they parted ways.

Artemis was bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Clearly, you are having a sugar overload, guess we need to work that off,” Shade stated, shaking her head.

“No. Just happy. How do you know Mr. Moreno, mama?” Artemis asked as they began to drive off.

“We dated in high school, and through a good portion of college,” Shade explained glancing back at her through the rear-view mirror.

“Oh. Why did you break up?” Artemis asked curiously.

“He was becoming a pretty famous Heroic and I was making a name for myself in the art field. We drifted. We hardly ever saw each other and when we did, we argued a lot. So, we figured it was better if we broke up,” Shade acknowledged with a sad sigh.

“But… you still like him? And he clearly likes you?” Artemis questioned, looking confused.

“Yes. I do still like him, and how do you know he likes me?” Shade countered with a grin.

“He stared at you like Rick does when he sees Evy,” Artemis said matter of factly, referencing The Mummy.

Shade laughed at how seriously she said that. ‘Kids.’

The Hero:

Missy looked at her dad and smiled at the dreamy face he was making.

“You like her?” Missy asked with a silly smile.

“I do. Does that bother you? Me liking someone?” Marcus asked worriedly.

“Dad. I don’t think mom would be mad if you moved on. I just want you to be happy. You work so much to make me happy and when you’re not with me, you’re saving the world. I think you deserve to be happy too,” Missy assured hugging him.

“When did you get so smart?” He asked, returning the hug.

“I learned from you, duh,” She answered cutely.

“Now you’re just sucking up. C’mon. Let’s go home. I have a lot of explaining to do for running out in the middle of a meeting,” Marcus said as the two of them hopped into the car.

“Also. I hope you know… I have never been disappointed in you not having active powers. You’re my daughter and I love you so much. Your power is far more special than being able to fly or run fast.” He mentioned looking back at her.

Missy nodded her head muttering, “I love you too. Thank you.”

The Kids:

That night, Missy and Artemis texted one another, concocting a plan to get their parents together. Their plan was slightly devious, but it was their parents own good. They just hoped it would work.

[dragonji]

tagged by @llycaons to list five books on my reading list this year! If I'm being honest most of my current to-reads are webnovels or rereads for annotation purposes bc I lost my notes app reading list when I got a new phoneㅠㅠ but I think I can pull together a few new works so let's see:

1) Conservation of Shadows -Yoon Ha Lee. Collection of short stories by my fave author, I've been meaning to get to this one for literal years now. I really enjoy Yoon Ha Lee's work and just based on titles a ton of the stories in this look intriguing so I'm making it top reading priority as soon as i can track down a physical copy<3

2) Temeraire series -Noami Novik. Found this one while doing research on dragons in popular media for a presentation the semester before last and it was one of very few series I didn't have even a passing knowledge of. Plus alternative history with dragons as a central force seems like exactly My Deal so I have very high hopes lolol

3) In the Vanisher's Palace -Aliette de Bodard. This has been on the list since preorders for it were announced and I havent let myself look up much more about it but I know it's got dragon ladies and lesbians and is apparently a beauty and the beast retelling but better so. Interesting

4) Compass Rose -Arthur Sze. Picked this one up while I was buying his Sight Lines collection and its been sitting on my bookshelf tempting me ever sinceㅠㅠ I always have this weird hesitancy towards poetry bc I feel like I need to be prepared to make notations and break it down on the first read when I know it really doesnt have to be that way so this year I swear I'm buckling down and just reading the thing

5) If it's Purple, Someone's Gonna Die -Patti Bellantoni. A study on color and color scheme meanings in film! This one's mainly just bc I struggle with my new media arts classes so hopefully coming at it from an angle I know I already enjoy (color theory) will get me more interested in the work, plus it could be useful for my animation studies

Tagging @branwyns @ankhisms @nasiraan @recapitulation @demasc if yall want!!! And anyone else who sees this and would like to of course~

[artemisspelledits]

Yea or Nay?

Word Count: 3,600

Description: A short story I wrote for a college writing class that I’m super proud of. It isn’t related to any fandoms, so any similarities are coincidental. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: It gets pretty graphic at one point, so just be aware.

................................................................................................................................

Sophie was hosting a tea party. She had six guests sitting at her rich mahogany table, all of whom had complimented her hosting and tea making abilities. She was an attentive hostess, refilling cups and supplying more biscuits as needed.

Charlotte peered through the thick one-way window, watching the six year old play. She chuckled as Sophie lifted her imaginary teapot to offer more delicious tea to “Mr. Green.” Mr. Green laid propped up against a wad of clothing, wooden face frozen in an exuberant smile. Sophie had insisted on making all her toys herself: popsicle sticks tightly wound in strips of her bed sheets, originally eliciting a scandalized gasp from the maid who maintained the wing. For the faces of her toys, Sophie had requested specific colored markers in order to scrawl their features. She had constructed more than the ones she was currently playing with; extras were stashed under her mattress. When Charlotte had asked why she didn’t play with them, Sophie giggled like it was the most obvious answer. She explained, “I’m gonna play with them someday, I just haven’t met them yet!”

 Touching the smooth glass, Charlotte felt wistful, but not for herself. Sophie had started from nothing but had so much potential. Sophie radiated power; anyone who was in tune with the magic of the world could feel it. Charlotte herself first felt Sophie’s aura before she even met her.

It had started as a scream, echoing though the street like a shockwave. Charlotte cocked her head, instantly aware that something was not right. Another scream followed the first, more desperate this time. She started running towards the sound, feet pounding though stinking puddles and through piles of trash. As she rounded a corner, she felt an impact that felt physical. She stumbled, sprawling into a mound of debris, under the impression some hard object had struck her in the chest. Reeling from the impact, Charlotte recognized the minty flavor of magic.

Slightly stunned, she saw a man in a grimy green sweater viciously dragging a small girl. She was screaming, and rightfully so, as he had her by the hair and was ferociously twisting his fist. Before Charlotte could regain her footing and help the child, the girl ceased her wailing. She had stopped thrashing and was looking directly at her captor. Confused by the sudden lack of struggle, the man looked down at the girl. Her neck twitched to the side, briefly touching her rag-covered shoulder. His neck followed suit, just at a much more violent pace. An arc of blood spurted from the spot his vertebrae had ripped through his skin, his eyes bright with shock. His grip loosened on the girl and she stood. His body had not yet realized this was the end and remained upright for much longer than Charlotte would have anticipated. As his body collapsed into a rubbish heap, Charlotte heard the girl let out a small chuckle. The girl then swayed, knees buckling, and joined the man in crumpling to the ground.

Now in a panic, Charlotte rushed to the scene, horrified at the sight of a large pool of blood blooming from the man’s mangled neck.

“Gone. He’s gone,” Charlotte whispered, hyperventilating at the display.

Adrenaline gushing through her system, she hastily removed her outer jacket and crouched to wrap the girl in it. She was so small, so frail, like a baby bird. Her matted hair was packed with dirt, her cheekbones so prominent it was clear she was malnourished, and her clothing threadbare and disintegrating. The girl moaned softly in obvious pain.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’ll help you, I’ll get you help.”

The words tumbled out of Charlotte’s mouth without her realizing what she was saying, only hoping to provide some kind of solace to the child. Quivering, she rose to her feet. Briefly glancing at the dark figure of the dead man, Charlotte turned and dashed away, clutching the small form of the girl to her chest.

That was two months ago. Charlotte brought the girl to her place of work, The Headquarters of Magical Testing and Enforcement, to have her tested, seeing as the girl had abilities. The Headquarters of Magical Testing and Enforcement, or HMTE, regulates, tracks, and trains magic use and magical families. Charlotte knew the HMTE would provide answers to the mystery girl she had found that day.

However, it was a bit of a debate as to whether they were legally allowed to perform testing on this girl. Seeing as she was a minor and could not legally give consent, as well as no family had come with her, it was a topic of heated discussion as to whether or not to test her. The Board of Directors came to the agreement that they would do rudimentary testing, just to lay the foundation of knowledge and to see if there were any blood relatives to notify.

The results of this simple test baffled the lab workers. The sample of blood extracted from the girl came back AB negative: exceptionally rare. The only recorded people to have AB negative blood were part of three powerful bloodlines, all of which have been extinct for at least seven generations. The HMTE owns the most extensive and detailed histories of family bloodlines, so it was unheard of for the company to have a shock like this. Obvious questions were raised: Who is this girl? Where did she come from? How is she here? Who are her parents?

More extensive tests were ordered, including a comparison of her DNA to the three bloodlines to which she could potentially belong. She was found to be a match with the most imposing of the three, the Drakter bloodline. Descendents of this particular lineage were more likely to have multiple powers, abilities that were not seen in other family members, as well as an overall increase in control and force of their magic.

With this knowledge, HMTE and Charlotte both knew they were dealing with something extraordinary. No one had interacted with the girl while she was conscious, seeing as she was still unresponsive from her encounter with the man in the alley. Charlotte stayed by her side as much as she could, waiting as the days turned into a week since she brought the girl in.

Finally, the girl awoke. She was initially frightened by her surroundings, panicked breath filling her tiny lungs. Charlotte was there in an instant, attempting to soothe the frightened child. Eventually, Charlotte became the only one who could calm the girl when she was having a fit. Charlotte learned the girl’s name was Sophie, not Sophia. Charlotte had accidentally said “Sophia” one day and paid the price by being hurled into the wall, all while Sophie was screaming and crying. From then on, Charlotte respected Sophie’s choice of name.

Charlotte began teaching Sophie how to read and write, and it was clear the child was exceedingly bright. Sophie squealed in delight when she first scrawled her name in squiggly six-year-old writing. She loved arts and crafts as well as singing along to songs Charlotte taught her, eventually falling asleep to the tune.

Charlotte smiled at the memories. A tap on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie. Turning from the serene picture of the tea party, Charlotte greeted the interruption.

“Benjamin! I’m glad you could make it! How long has it been?” Smiling widely, she shook his hand.

“Long enough for me to finally have gotten my PhD! So five, six years now?” He laughed, curly hair bouncing with the movement.

“Well then, I should use your proper title,” doing an over-the-top genuflect, she declared, “Doctor Benjamin Lewis!”

“Why thank you, Miss Charlotte Moone,” he returned with an equal amount of flair. “Now, what is your proper title? I hear you’ve risen through the ranks as well!”

Clearing her throat from her fit of giggles, she managed to reply, “Head of the Department of Magical Enforcement, member of the Board of Directors, and Senior Operations Consultant, although I get mislabeled enough that one would think I’m just a desk worker!”

“So serious. And so much! That’s a lot for even you, and I remember you taking so many classes in college that you had to talk to the higher-ups to get your schedule permitted!”

“Yes, well I think my mental state has improved since college, so I’ve progressed,” she chuckled. “Anyway, now that we’ve caught up, to the subject at hand!” She clapped her hands and gestured to the girl. “This is Sophie, I’m sure you’ve heard about her and her power, seeing as you’re the resident nerd on this topic.” Charlotte snuck a sly look in Benjamin’s direction that he returned by sticking out his tongue. “She’s been fundamentally tested to measure her abilities, and the results came back like none we’ve ever seen. It turns out she’s a part of the Drakter lineage.” This statement elicited a small squeal of excitement from Benjamin. “Seeing as she’s a Drakter, little Sophie is one of the most powerful beings on earth, and as an adult, she will indubitably be number one. She seems to not understand or know her strength, having lashed out and accidentally hurt people before.” Charlotte thought back to the man in the alley and the bruise she sustained after being thrown against the wall. “She’s happy enough, enjoying make-believe games and normal six year old activities. You have been called because as an expert in the old bloodlines and their abilities, we need a more thorough examination in order to properly understand her future.”

More to himself than to Charlotte, Benjamin muttered something about being able to taste the magic through the walls and how that was impressive, especially for such young magic, scribbling on his clipboard of notes as he went. Nodding, Benjamin looked over the information and addressed Charlotte. “No parents? No known relations or anything that might help me?”

“Nope, she says she can’t remember her parents and we have scoured both records and the field for evidence of relatives. She’s as orphan as you can find them,” Charlotte paused, flexing her foot. “Will that be a problem? Should we run tests over again to see if anything new is found?”

“No, no, it’s just more of a challenge for me. Like a puzzle,” He looked up from his notes. “And boy do I love puzzles! I’ll do my usual questions; asking about interests, see how long she can use her magic, how long she’s known she’s magical, all that fun stuff. See if I can piece some things together to give HMTE something more to work with.”

Grinning at his childlike excitement, Charlotte felt reassured. Finally, answers. Benjamin grinned at his clipboard, then sharply sighed through his nose, as if to steel himself for his interaction with Sophie. Voice slightly giddy, he turned to Charlotte. “I’m like a six year old myself - I get to interact with a Drakter! Well, I better go in and do my examination!”

As he reached for the door handle, Charlotte remembered. “Ah ah ah, wait a moment. I forgot one thing. Do not call her Sophia. It’s the one thing she hates and will respond accordingly.” Answering the question carried by his gaze, she continued. “Sophie must have a negative relationship with the name ‘Sophia,’ enough to fling me into a wall for misnaming her. So just….don’t.”

“Duly noted.” Benjamin nodded curtly and pulled open the door.

Charlotte watched as he sat on the ground next to the girl. He introduced himself, shaking Sophie’s miniscule hand. She seemed to like him, seeing as she had offered him an imaginary teacup, from which he was taking a dainty sip.  

Sighing softly, Charlotte turned to the pile of busy work sitting on one of the chairs. She had brought these documents to pass time during the examination, and she did not want to leave Benjamin alone in case he had more questions. Charlotte resolved herself to her fate. Minutes passed as she marked form after form, signing here and initialing there.

Sudden motion and a muffled thump made her flinch. Looking up from her lap, Charlotte leaped to her feet, papers flying.  

A scene of chaos had erupted behind the glass. Benjamin had thrown himself onto the one-way mirror, palms splayed wildly against it. It was clear he was howling at the top of his lungs, yet Charlotte could hardly hear his screaming through the thick glass. His eyes wild with fear behind his skewed glasses, he pounded his fists upon the glass, breath fogging up the clear surface. Behind him, Sophie was looking straight up, eyes closed and face twisted into a smile. Slowly but with purpose, Sophie rose from the bundled up sheet that was her tea party table. Still smiling, she brought her head down, leveling her gaze on Benjamin that held the seething power of a wildfire.

“Oh no. Oh God, no!” A scream clawed its way from Charlotte’s throat, the sound enhanced by the barren white walls of the hallway. She was answered by shouts and the commotion of many pairs of feet charging towards her position.

Charlotte had seen that look on Sophie’s face but once before: the day she met her. Charlotte knew what was coming, but was incapable of moving. She mentally screamed for her muscles to budge, to let her intervene, but she had been fixed there against her will, not a nerve fiber twitching. Realization and horror crashed down on her. She was being forced to watch the scene unfold before her.  

The taste of magic hit her tongue as she became aware of this. Sophie was still standing motionless, mirroring Charlotte’s inability to move. Suddenly, Sophie warped her body, neck twisting up while her back arched and coiled to the left. Like some kind of morbid puppet, Benjamin copied her movements, fear still palpable in his eyes as he stared helplessly at Charlotte. He was lifted off the ground by the force of his body’s contortion. His neck suddenly became much too long, accompanied by a crack that Charlotte could hear through the glass. His spine followed, snapping in the middle of his back so that when he landed he was folded in half, nape of his neck touching his heels.

Charlotte felt herself regain control of her body, like an icy grip had released her muscles, yet she still couldn’t move. Eyes wide with shock, she let out a shriek of pure fear and revulsion. How could she have…why did she…? What happened? Charlotte lurched to the door of Sophie’s room, fumbling with the handle.

Flinging the door open, she rushed to Benjamin’s side, knowing it was folly to hope he was still alive but needing confirmation. His body was crumpled and broken, with a dark splotch of blood beginning to ooze from his abdomen and onto his shirt. What looked like splinters of rib poked through the fabric.

Retching at the sight as well as the overpowering acrid taste of mint that clung to the air, Charlotte turned her attention to Sophie. She skipped to her bed and thrust a small hand under her mattress, pulling out one of her extra popsicle stick characters. Returning to her tea party, she propped up the new guest next to Mr. Green.

“Thank you for joining us, Dr. Lewis, would you like some tea?”

Charlotte blanched. Dr. Lewis? She numbly strode to Sophie’s side, placing a quivering hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Who did you say your new friend was?” She couldn’t keep her voice from trembling.

“Dr. Lewis!” Sophie replied, looking up at Charlotte with a cheerful smile. Nothing like the psychotic smile she wore moments earlier when controlling Benjamin’s movements.

Time seemed to slow down. Behind Charlotte, people were pouring into the room, clamoring to see what had happened and why they had heard screaming a minute before. But Charlotte did not hear or heed their questions. It felt as though her heart and intestines had flipped places in her body. Her breath hitched as she realized the meaning of Sophie’s words. All her tea party guests…“Mr. Green”…that man who had been dragging her was wearing green. Oh God. This child, this six year old child, was a killer. Not just a killer, but a cold-blooded murderer.

Voice breathy with dread, Charlotte tried her best to remain calm. “Why did you do that to Dr. Lewis?” She gestured to Benjamin’s unmoving heap.

Her face darkening, lips pulling up into a snarl, Sophie spat her response.

“He called me Sophia.”

Dammit, Benjamin. Charlotte closed her eyes in a grimace, clenching her jaw. I told you not to…. But that was it? That was all it took for her to be pushed over the edge? To murder someone? The thoughts ran through Charlotte’s head as Sophie’s face betrayed no signs of emotion or regret for her actions.

“Do you feel bad about what you did to him?”

“No, he called me Sophia. And I didn’t want to talk to him anymore.”

Her answer was startlingly nonchalant, like she was discussing lampshades or the color of a house. Charlotte searched Sophie’s expression for a hint of remorse, finding none. Starting to hyperventilate, Charlotte clasped a hand over her mouth, attempting to fight the nausea that threatened to overtake her. She backed away from the child, colliding with co-workers as she fled the room.

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

Every time Charlotte closed her eyes, those images would play against her eyelids. Benjamin’s crumpled body, his neck, Sophie’s maniacal grin, the new popsicle toy named Dr. Lewis. She couldn’t get them out of her head. It had been six days, but the memories were still fresh and crisp.  

An impatient voice cut through her thoughts.

“Miss Moone. I understand you have been through a traumatizing ordeal this past week, but you must focus on the task at hand.” It was the president of the company, irritation plainly visible on her plump features.

“Yes Mrs. President, I understand. I am sorry.”

“As I was saying, a problem has emerged that must be addressed. As members of the Board of Directors, it falls on us to make the appropriate decision, even if it is an unpleasant one.” She sighed, clasping her hands on the polished tabletop. “The girl in question. Sophie Drakter is extremely powerful, yes; however that power has only been observed to be used for nefarious purposes. If we are correct in believing Miss Moone’s deduction concerning Miss Drakter’s toys, she has taken the life of seven people. If this assumption is incorrect, the record still stands that Miss Drakter has killed two people.”

She looked around at the assembled six members. She sighed again. “It has come to this: we must vote. The options are as follows: exterminate the girl now to stop further destruction, or endeavor to control her abilities and hope she does not go down a dark path. There is justification for both arguments, including her age, the fact she is a Drakter, cost versus benefit analyses, time, and of course the overall impact of her power if she reaches adulthood. You will have ten minutes to arrive at your decision. You may talk amongst yourselves.”

Charlotte had known it would come to this. She had been thinking about her choice for the last six days. She desperately conferred with her fellow council members, and sooner than she thought possible, the president regained their attention.

The president cleared her throat. She did not look like she was going to enjoy this vote. “Say ‘yea’ if you agree with termination and ‘nay’ if you oppose.” She collected herself before continuing. “Yea. Ms. Lang?”

 “Nay.”

“Mr. Simmons?”

“Yea.”

“Mrs. Dunne?”

“Yea.”

“Mr. Barclay?”

“Nay.”

“Mr. Holcomb?”

“Nay.”

“Miss Moone?”

“…nay.”

This single word was followed with gasps of relief and fear. “She’s dangerous! How could you – She’s just a girl! Six years – She’s old enough to know – She’s a killer!” The president pounded a fist on the table top, calling for order.

“She is just a girl and she is a killer!” Charlotte’s voice had reached a pitch that couldn’t be ignored. “She lashed out in a way that was wrong, yes, but there was a reason for it!” A scoff came from across the room. Charlotte flung out a pointer finger and continued. “Yes! Laugh at me! But I know what it’s like! All the women on this council know what it’s like! To be mislabeled! To be belittled! To be brushed over! Sophie only reacted that way because she wasn’t given the proper respect! ‘Sophie’ not ‘Sophia’ was all she asked! Did Dr. Lewis know? Yes, I told him myself! Should he have died because of it? No! But she’s six! That means she’s malleable and can be changed! We can work on her anger and violence, but the lack of respect for her name is not something she can change.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, Charlotte hated that she had to validate her decision. Her fellow board members had gone silent, half staring at her through slits for eyes, half nodding in agreement.

“I apologize. It’s just…she has so much potential. And I know there are changes that she needs to make, but so does our society. Mrs. President…” Charlotte deferred to her superior.

“Thank you, Miss Moone for your insight.” An eyebrow cocked, the president ended the meeting, addressing the gathered council. “Thank you for your attendance. You are dismissed.”

Charlotte exited the board room, filing out with her fellow board members, praying she hadn’t made the wrong decision.

[galxcs]

Drunken Nights | Wolfstar

Link to AO3

Chapter Sixteen (Fifteen) (Fourteen) (Thirteen) (Twelve) (Eleven) (Ten) (Nine) (Eight) (Seven) (Six) (Five) (Four) (Three) (Two) (One)

* I apologize for how long this chapter is, hopefully it’s not boring. 

Sirius felt his entire body crackling with the electricity of the decision that he had just made. He strode back towards Remus quickly, barely feeling his feet hit the ground as he took each step. He was wild with the thought that he wouldn’t go through with it, and he took Remus’ hand, pulling him back the direction he had left.

“Hurry before I change my mind,” Sirius urged, trying to stomp down the fear that he could hear in his voice.

Remus picked up his pace, unsure of where Sirius was taking them. Their hands felt like two links in a chain, a cold weight clasping onto each other tightly as Sirius brought them to the back of the platform. They spotted Alastair standing with rigid posture, his dark crisp suit standing out from the clothes those around him were wearing. Regulus was standing next to him, looking impatient.

“Wait here, I don’t want him to know who I’m going with,” Sirius voiced, dropping Remus’ hand quickly.

Alastair turned to leave once he spotted Sirius, not caring about greetings. Sirius probably knew he was worried about being late since he had taken so long talking with his friends. He could feel Regulus’ cold glare from Alastair’s side.

Sirius didn’t follow behind Alastair, though, who quickly noticed and spun around.

“Mr. Black, are you coming? You’re parents will be wondering where you are,” Alastair said, pulling out some floo powder.

“Actually, I was just invited to spend holiday with a mate of mine, and I thought it rude to decline,” Sirius stated, pulling out his posh Black family accent that he used when his parents had dinner guests over, and he needed to sound put together.

Alastair’s face shifted, his eyebrow furrowing into his dark eyes. “Sir,” Alastair started, knowing the implications of Sirius skipping out this particular holiday.

“You can’t leave,” Reggie sneered, his lip pulling up just as much on his face as Alastair’s eyebrows were furrowing.

“The decision’s been made. I just wanted to tell you so that you two could leave.”

“I would advise that you rethink this,” Alastair worded carefully.

“I’ve thought about it plenty,” Sirius lied, “and I don’t think that my presence will be needed these next couple weeks.”

His voice was strong, never faltering, despite the fact that his hands were shaking where they sat clenched at his side, and he could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

Regulus’ mouth was dropped open, and Alastair was standing even stiffer than he usually did. They both looked like they were going to say something, and Sirius couldn’t bear to hear whatever it was.

Regulus’ cold sneer seemed to falter, and his face fell a bit, his eyes growing warm like they did when they were kids. Sirius hurdled back to a time when Regulus would climb into his bed in the middle of the night, worried about Sirius and their parents.

“Sirius, you can’t,” Reggie said.

It was those words that broke Sirius, and it was those words that helped Sirius to know exactly what he couldn’t do.

“I’m sorry, Reg. You’re right, I can’t.”

He turned swiftly back, finding Remus where he left him.

“You sure your parents won’t mind?” Sirius asked nervously, ignoring the concerned look that Remus gave him.

“Positive,” Remus assured, leading Sirius out into the muggle station, and then into the parking lot. They blinked against the harsh light of the sun, and Sirius noted Remus tucking his face closer to his jacket to keep out the cold. “Look for a red pickup truck,” Remus instructed, scanning the lot.

Thankfully, Remus either didn’t notice or didn’t mention that Sirius’ hands were trembling, and his steps had grown to a stumbling walk not matching his usual confident stride.

“There,” Sirius said, dropping Remus’ hand to point out the truck.

A man that Sirius fairly remembered as Remus’ dad stood stiffly, waiting for Remus to come to them. As the two made their way over, a woman bundled in a huge heavy coat climbed out of the passenger seat.

“Remus!” Mrs Lupin said, tackling him in a bear hug.

“Hey, Mum. Missed you,” Remus chuckled, tucking his face against her neck.

“Hey,” his dad added, patting him on the shoulder.

“So, you guys remember Sirius right?” Remus started, motioning towards Sirius who was awkwardly standing next to them.

“Of course we do!” Mrs Lupin said, leaning forward to hug Sirius. “How are you, Sirius?”

“Doing good, Mrs Lupin,” Sirius responded, pulling away stiffly from the hug.

“Psh,” she scoffed. “Just call me Hope like the last time you visited.” Sirius didn’t remember calling her Hope the last time he visited.

He nodded anyways, and tried to find a smile somewhere to plaster stiffly on his face, He didn’t  find one.

All that he could focus on was the image of Regulus’ shocked face as Sirius turned to leave. Reggie wouldn’t understand this choice. He was too far under their parent’s spell to understand, and that thought made Sirius’ stomach squirm.

“I was wondering if Sirius could stay with us over holiday,” Sirius heard Remus inquire over his loud thoughts. It sounded like he already knew the answer.

“Of course he can!” Mrs Lupin replied, her face beaming. “We’ve told you that you’re always welcome to have friends over.”

Sirius glanced at Remus’ dad who was leaning against the pickup truck, his leg propped up on the tire, his arms folded uncomfortably over his chest. He didn’t say much, and Sirius remembered faintly that attribute about him from when he had visited Remus’ farm a couple summers ago. Remus and his mother didn’t wait for Mr Lupin’s permission, and the weight of Remus’ cold hand softly tugged him into the back seat of the truck. Sirius and Remus’ knees uncomfortably hit the seats in front of them, but Remus didn’t seem bothered by it, so Sirius didn’t mention it.

It was hard to remember the last time he had been in a Muggle vehicle. If his parents saw him now, buckling himself into the backseat of this rusted red truck, they would probably disown him on sight. Sirius didn’t know if he really minded the thought of that, and the notion made his stomach feel sick before they had even started moving. Not like it mattered now. He had already made that decision for them.

The drive back could only be described as loud, and it wasn’t for any of the reasons that one would think. Yes, Remus and his mother chatted consistently about school and life since they had been apart, his father adding in the occasional short comment. Yes, on top of the chatter, the sound of the old truck rumbled beneath his seat; the engine a constant hum in the background and the wind against the doors a noisy pull of sound. No, that was not why it was so loud.

In fact, Sirius had tuned out the constant sound of all of that only moments after they had pulled out of the parking lot. The loudness that consumed him had everything to do with himself. He could hear his heart pounding deep in his chest, burbling up against his throat like it was trying to escape. He could hear his shaky breath blowing against the window that he had his forehead leaned against despite the fact that he bumped his head every time the truck jolted.

He could hear his thoughts screaming at him, a constant buzzing of octaves, a consistent blur of words jumping back and forth in his mind. They swirled around and around until they were so loud that he could no longer hear his heartbeat or his breath. He wondered if they had ever been there at all in the first place. It felt very wrong for Sirius to be here breathing, his heart beating constantly.

Not when he knew what his parents would do the next time he saw them because of this. Not when he could still see Regulus shocked face in his vision. Reggie’s words, you can’t leave, echoed around in his head.

Sirius’ mind flashed back to a memory that had been haunting his mind for the past couple months. He was standing in his living room, but one could hardly call it that. Cold black drapes hung extravagantly from the windows, keeping the light hidden outside. The walls were decorated strictly with pricey portraits and artifacts, lacking in anything of substance. No family photos, no trinkets gathered on holidays together. Everything was lavishly ornate with greens and golds that made Sirius want to gag just visualizing it.

His mother was arguing with him, her cold posh voice ringing in his ears. His father was standing to the side, his wand tucked in his hand as he watched the situation unfold. Sirius stood in the center of the room, tears streaming down his face.

I can’t. He was saying. Don’t make me do it.

Sirius knew now that Regulus had been on the other side of the wall, eavesdropping, like he had thought. He wouldn’t have given Sirius that shocked, almost hurt look if he hadn’t been.

Sirius was drawn out of the memory when the truck hit another bump, and his head hit against the window again. He was drawn further from the moment when he heard his name being said.

“How has school been for you, Sirius?” Mrs Lupin asked from the passenger seat of the truck.

“Good,” Sirius answered, trying not to think about the way that Remus was watching him like he could break any moment. Maybe he would break any moment.

“That’s good,” Mrs Lupin responded. “What’s your favorite class? Remey’s is—”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Sirius answered for her, almost laughing at the notion that he wouldn’t know what Moony’s favorite class was.

“Yeah, that’s right. I can’t even believe the things you two do at school. All I ever did when I was your age was my multiplication tables and dissecting poetry, while my son is over here casting spells for God’s sake.”

Sirius laughed slightly, liking the way Remus’ mother’s welsh accent matched Moony’s when he was ranting or tired. Except hers was very lively and constant.

Eventually, Mr Lupin pulled off onto a road that turned into a dirt path. Sirius clutched the bottom of his seat as it bumped up and down rapidly. He didn’t know how Muggles traveled like this everywhere. He glanced over to see Remus looking at him.

You okay? he mouthed.

Sirius nodded, but he might have given away his answer when he swallowed tightly and clutched his seat again. Remus probably assumed it was just motion sickness, which was partly true, but another part of him was still panicking about the pure fact that he was sitting here instead of at his house.

A soft weight pressed over Sirius’ foot, and he looked down to see Remus’ old sneaker resting on his foot like Sirius had done to Remus earlier.

He glanced back up and instantly regretted it because there were those hypnotizing golden eyes, swimming with honey and specks of what Sirius could only describe as the sunlight trapped in the irises of his eyes. There were Remus’ open and warm eyes, the ones that convinced him to come back with him, the ones that convinced him to leave his family for good, the ones that Sirius had spent years searching, waiting for the day that they would start searching back.

He felt the overwhelming need to fall into Remus’ arms and be held. To bury his face into Remus’ soft hair and smell that scent of chocolate and spices that were just so Remus.

Sirius glanced up to peak at the mirror dangling above the windshield, and then at Remus’ parents. Mrs Lupin had her head resting gently against her seat; she looked asleep. Mr Lupin had his eye’s fixed sternly on the road.

Sirius reached across the small space between them, taking hold of Remus’ slender hand. He couldn’t believe that something so soft and perfect could possibly warp into the claw of a werewolf each month. Remus took his hand back, squeezing gently. My werewolf, Sirius thought.

Remus fell asleep, his head falling against the window. Sirius watched him for a little while, tracing the lines of his shoulders with his eyes, and observing the way his brown hair waved at the top and into his face. Every time the sun hit the top of his head through the window, Sirius could see where Remus had bits of gold in his hair.

When the truck came to a slow stop, Sirius gently slipped his hand out of Remus’ and glanced up through the the windows. The truck was pulled off of the road into some brush. There wasn’t any more dirt path in front of them, and there were trees on all sides of the vehicle.

The last time he had gone to Remus’ house, he had used the floo network from his own house, so he didn’t know exactly how they were going to get to Wales. He had assumed they would take a Muggle airplane, which had been sort of a scary thought for him. Remus had told Sirius about how weird his dad was about magic even though he was a wizard.

“We’re here,” Mr Lupin said, gently waking his wife up.

Sirius did the same to Remus, placing a hand on his arm to shake him. Remus opened one of his eyes sleepily and combed his fingers through his hair.

They all climbed out of the truck, and Mr Lupin grabbed Remus and Sirius’ things out of the back, passing them over. Remus still looked sleepy, his eyes traveling absently around him, and his feet swayed a second from a head rush.

Sirius reached his hand out to steady Remus, but he was reluctant to pull away.

“We’re going with a port key, if you were confused,” Remus explained, rubbing his eyes.

Sirius only had the energy to nod.

“Here it is,” Mr Lupin called from somewhere ahead of them.

Remus started to follow his mother to somewhere ahead of the truck, and Sirius tugged on the sleeve of his coat to stop him.

“Just going to leave the truck here?” he asked.

Remus shrugged. “We have another one at home, and this one’s garbage. We only use it when Mum and Dad are picking me up.”

“Why don’t you just shrink it, and take it with, or something?”

Remus leaned in closer to Sirius, keeping his voice quiet. “We don’t really use unnecessary magic much. My dad’s kind of weird about it.”

“We’re about to use a port key?” Sirius replied.

Remus let out a small laugh, his light eyelashes fluttering closed, and his head shaking a little. “Yeah, the port key and the season charm are like the only exceptions.” Remus shrugged like he didn’t really understand it himself.

“The season charm?”

“You’ll see.”

Remus pulled Sirius to where his parents were already waiting for them, standing next to an old worn tire.

“Hold on to each other tight,” Mrs Lupin said.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Sirius whispered quietly enough that only Remus could hear, close to his ear, and he wrapped his arm around his waist.

Maybe he imagined it, or maybe it was just the cold, but right as they put their hands on the port key, and right before they spun away out of reality, Sirius thought he felt Remus shiver against him.

They landed pretty well. Remus stumbled a little, but Sirius’ arm around his waist steadied him a bit.

It took him longer than it should have to realize that suddenly he was unbearably hot. His mind worked at a much slower pace when there was a disheveled and very handsome werewolf in his arms, hands on his shoulders.

He turned towards the gleam of the sun, and squinted at what he saw. Mr and Mrs Lupin had already shed their coats and mittens, tossing them haphazardly into the back of the truck Remus must have been talking about. Underneath his feet where there used to be a thin layer of snow, was bright green grass growing from dusty brown dirt.

Remus’ farm stretched out in front of him, looking unfamiliar. He didn’t like to admit that the one time he had actually been able to join Peter and James on their many trips to the Lupin farm, he had been so worried about what would happen if his parents came home and noticed that he was missing along with a bit of floo powder, that he hadn’t really been able to enjoy or remember the day much.

The sky was a bright blue color, and a brightly colored butterfly flew past his face. Ahead of him, there was a yellowish dirt path between the grass that lead up to a white wooden house with a brown porch protruding from the front, covered by the shade of the roof. In the distance, a wooden swing swayed softly in the hot breeze of the [summer?] air.

The sound of a door slamming shut startled Sirius out of his shocked gaze. The door to Remus’ house swung open again, and Mrs Lupin popped out to prop it against a large rock that sat on their porch.

“We have got to fix this door,” she muttered to Mr Lupin as he walked in.

They both disappeared inside of the house, and Sirius turned back towards the rolling fields of wheat, green grass, and lively trees.

“Season charm,” Remus said smirking, his eyes looking over the farm in a way that Sirius had never looked at his house.

Remus looked at it like it was home.

“This is incredible,” Sirius breathed out. He had never seen magic like this before. He had never seen it stretching out so far. “How—” Sirius’ gaze turned to fix on Remus’s face.

It was lit by the glowing light of the evening sun, and his golden eyes looked like they were on fire, shining warm and bright. An orange glow was washing over Remus’ cheekbones, making his freckles so much clearer under this light. Sirius never wanted to look away.

“It’s mostly my dad,” Remus shrugged, his eyes scanning across the land. “I’ll show you more later.”

Sirius didn’t exactly know what Remus would show him more of later. The farm? But, he knew that he wasn’t about to object to it. Remus turned back towards Sirius, and it was then that he realized how close they were still standing to each other. They had never backed away when the port key had landed them.

“Are you going to take this off,” Remus mumbled, his hand tugging at his arm.

“What?” Sirius asked, his brain freezing for a second.

Remus took a step back, his face turning a dark shade of red that seemed even deeper under the soft light of the sun. “I mean, your coat. It’s,” Remus stuttered, “it’s hot out.”

“Right. Yes,” Sirius said quickly, looking down at the coat that he still had zipped up to his chin.

At some point Remus had already taken his off, revealing a gray sweater underneath. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing his ivory forearms and a vein that stretched up from his wrist. Sirius had a black t-shirt on underneath his coat.

“Hey, how are—” Remus was interrupted by his mother calling out to them through the open door.

“Come on in boys, I mostly prepared dinner before we left so it would be ready!”

Remus craned his neck over his shoulder to call back, “Okay, coming!” He turned back around to face Sirius, his face full of worry and sincerity.

Sirius knew what he was going to ask, and he wasn’t ready to respond. He wasn’t ready to tell Remus that it was hard to even be standing here despite how good it felt. He just wanted to let himself relax. Let himself breathe in the air of Remus’ home, and watch the white clouds jogging across the track that was the blue sky. But, every time he sucked in a breath, he only heard his mother’s sharp voice snapping, Either you come home, and you cooperate, or you don’t come home at all.

He sighed out loud, making Remus’ eyes crinkle in worry. Before Remus could ask Sirius about anything, Sirius pointed his eyes towards the small house, titling his head a bit for emphasis.

“We should go. Your mum was calling us.”

Remus opened his mouth to object, but he snapped it closed again, unable to say whatever words that he had been planning on. Instead, he nodded and turned around, letting Sirius follow him up the path and into the house.

The floorboards of Remus’ house creaked, and light flooded in from a large kitchen window, lighting up the rooms in a way that Sirius’ manor had never been lit. The windows had flowy white curtains on them that blew in gently with the breeze, and the house smelled like something sweet that he couldn’t place.

Remus led Sirius in through a little sitting area to the kitchen. He started rustling through cabinets and pulling out plates to set out on the little wooden table in the corner of the room.

“Sirius, honey, if you don’t remember, Remus’ room is around that corner if you want to drop your things off. We’ll pull in the spare mattress for you later,” Mrs Lupin said, pointing at a hallway that sprang off of the kitchen.

Sirius nodded limply in response and made his way slowly down the dark hall. The wooden walls had Muggle photographs hanging in picture frames all the way down the hall. He stepped closer to see some of young Remus, his ears too big for his face, and his gangly limbs too long for his small body. He smiled at a picture of a tiny Remus slung over his dad’s shoulders, a radiant smile on his scar-free face.

Sirius continued down the small hall, noticing only two doors. One had a tiny bathroom in it, so Sirius turned the handle of the other room. Sirius didn’t really remember Remus’ room much. The last time he had come, the boys had spent most of the time down by a lake.

The room was everything that Sirius would have thought that Remus’ room would look like. There was a small bed pushed into the corner of the room with a big window, letting in light like the kitchen. Above the bed, there was a brown shelf that had potted plants and books placed neatly there. An organized desk sat by the door, with photographs and clipping hanging on a tac board above it. Sirius rolled his eyes at the sight of Remus’ overflowing bookshelf, which was the only thing that wasn’t perfectly tidy in the room.

Sirius dropped his bags on the floors and took a step closer to see the pictures. These ones were a mixture of magic and Muggle pictures. One of them made Sirius smile brightly at the memory. Lily had taken the photo of them one weekend out on the quidditch field.

James and Sirius had convinced Peter and Remus to go out flying with them. Peter liked flying, but not with James and Sirius because he said they went to fast and always left him. Remus didn’t have a broom, but they tricked him into coming out by saying he could just watch.

In the picture, James was laughing and leaning over to wrap his arm around Peter, who laughed and tried to steady himself on his broom. Sirius had his arms wrapped around Remus’ waist behind him on his broom, a genuine smile on his face, so big that Sirius couldn’t believe he had ever been that happy. Sirius watched as his younger self pulled Moony closer to him with an over enthusiastic hug, and the image made a single tear fall down his face.

Remus had his hands clasped tightly on the broomstick, looking nervously at the ground, but when Sirius pulled him into the hug, Remus smiled softly, and looked down, doing that thing where he tried to hide the blush on his face even though Sirius couldn’t see his expression.

“You found my pictures,” Remus said, leaning against the doorframe.

“I never got this one,” Sirius responded, pointing to the photo he had been looking at.

Remus stepped into the room, coming right next to Sirius to lean in and see where he was pointing. “I asked Lily to print it for me.”

“We look so young,” Sirius said.

“It was only a few years ago.”

Sirius couldn’t stop watching himself pulling Remus against his chest. He looked like a happy puppy dog, and he hadn’t even been an animagus at the time.

“What made you want this one?” Sirius asked, remembering how many pictures Lily had taken that night.

Remus shrugged, his shoulder bumping against Sirius’. “I just wanted to remember that moment.”

Sirius turned his head slowly, eyes searching Remus’ face. “I was already in love with you in that photo,” he whispered, feeling himself leaning in closer to Remus.

Remus let out a shaky breath and dipped his head a bit. “So, what have you been trying so hard to tell me today?” he asked, probably trying to change the subject.

Sirius rolled his eyes because he knew Remus couldn’t see him. His hand found Remus’ face, and he slid his fingers down his soft cheek, landing on his chin. Tilting Remus’ head upwards so that they could look at each other, Sirius whispered, “I don’t really feel like talking anymore.”

Remus only hesitated a second before capturing Sirius’ face with his hand and pulling him in the last few inches between them.

Sirius’ lips fit perfectly with Remus’, and he felt himself pushing closer, stepping around Remus without breaking their kiss so that he could press him against the desk. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck, and pushed back so that he was sitting on the desk, his legs resting on either side of Sirius.

Remus’ fingers found Sirius’ hair, and he tugged gently in a way that made Sirius release a soft breath against Remus’ lips. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist so that he could pull him closer to the desk’s edge and nearer to him. His hands dropped down so that they were resting on top of Remus’ thighs at his side, and Remus’ arms tugged him closer against him.

For the first time that day, it was quiet. With every kiss, Sirius pulled further out of his mind, away from the loudness of his thoughts. Finally, there was no worry, no voices yelling at him in his head, no panic. There was only Remus holding onto Sirius as tightly as Sirius was holding onto him. Sirius couldn’t get enough of it.

“What are we doing?” Remus whispered, contradicting his words as he tightened his grip in Sirius’ hair, and deepened their kiss.

“What were you going to say to me that day at the Three Broomsticks?” Sirius asked, his voice low and raspy. He pulled away to feather his lips down Remus’ throat, scraping his teeth gently on his Adam’s apple.

Remus tugged at Sirius’ hair again as Sirius kissed along his chin.

“I was going to tell you, yes,” Remus exhaled the last word as Sirius pressed his lips hard against his throat.

“Yes?” Sirius hummed, moving one of his hands from Remus’ thigh to trail up his chest. Even through the fabric of Remus’ sweater, Sirius could feel the way that it was heaving with every shaky breath. He could feel the sharp bones and muscle that made up his stomach, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Yes to what you told me that day in our room. Yes to being with you. Yes to,” Remus’ breath hitched as Sirius found his lips again. Sirius never found out what else Remus would have said yes to because his mouth began to desperately push at Remus’, his hands pulling Remus flush against him.

Remus pulled away to speak, and Sirius, not bearing to be away from Remus’ skin for even a second, kissed along his cheek, sucking softly at the skin under Remus’ chin.

“And then you brushed me off, and I thought you had changed your mind. That you didn’t want me anymore, so I tried not to want you anymore, but it didn’t work.”

“Remus,” Sirius breathed against his skin. “I will always want you.”

Sirius felt Remus shudder against him, and he pressed his forehead against Remus’, his fingers trailing down Remus’ side.

“Then why,” Remus started, but Sirius already knew where he was going.

“I pushed you away because I thought you wanted to tell me no. I thought you were getting together with Amanda.”

“Amanda?” Remus asked, pulling back from Sirius’ arms to look at him.

“Yeah I know,” Sirius said, trying to get Remus to come back by lightly pulling on his waist. “I know how dumb that was now, but at the time, that was all I could think about, and I couldn’t bear to hear you tell me that.”

Suddenly Remus laughed, and Sirius couldn’t help but pull away, trying to search his eyes. “What?” he asked, trying not to smile purely from looking at Remus.

“Just, we’ve been so stupid. I mean, imagine how much time we’ve wasted,” Remus muttered, pulling Sirius back in for a kiss.

“I’m not going to waste any more time now,” Sirius whispered against Remus’ lips.

Their kisses turned soft and moved in an almost teasing way. Remus smiled against Sirius’ mouth, which made Sirius smile until they were both holding each other, kissing and smiling against each other. Remus sighed and planted a kiss to the side of Sirius’ mouth before pulling away.

“My mum’s coming,” he whispered. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Thank God for werewolf hearing,” Sirius muttered, stealing one last kiss from Remus before pulling back, running a hand through his messy hair.

Remus hopped down from the desk and did the same thing, fixing his sweater and trying to straighten out his hair. The two boys turned towards the door, masking their expressions at Mrs Lupin’s entrance.

“Dinner’s ready,” she said, peaking her head through the door.

“Okay, coming,” Remus replied, his voice sounding a bit breathless despite his efforts to sound normal.

As they walked down the hallway back to the kitchen, Sirius brushed his fingers down Remus’ arm before they got into the kitchen. He didn’t know how he was going to sit through an entire dinner with Remus next to him, knowing that he wanted him too. That he could touch and kiss, and it was oaky.

Remus stopped, Sirius’ fingers still on his arm. It looked like he had a moment of hesitation, but then he was wrapping both of his arms around Sirius’ neck, and he pulled Sirius back quickly so that he was in front of Remus, whose back was against the wall. When Remus kissed Sirius, there was a couple seconds that Sirius was so shocked that he could do something like this with Remus that he stood frozen, but when he came to, Sirius obliged happily.

His hands fell to Remus’ hips, and he shifted so that they were pressed closer together, kissing into Remus’ mouth and running his tongue along Remus’ lip. Sirius felt heat burning his skin as he heard Remus cut off a sound deep in his throat to stay quiet.

It was over much too quickly. Remus pulled away, turning to leave. Sirius put his hands up against the wall, trapping Remus between them, and he pouted jokingly, not expecting Remus to respond with one word that would have him sitting on the edge of his seat impatiently all through dinner.

“Later,” Remus whispered, smirking, just before he ducked under Sirius’ arm and dragged Sirius along with him.

The kitchen smelled really good, a mixture of the food wafting through the room and the fresh air that was coming in through the open window. Remus helped his mother set out the last of the dishes onto the table, but she turned down Sirius’ help, so he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. Mr Lupin sat down, so Sirius joined him, but that didn’t really change much because then he was just sitting awkwardly at the table. He only relaxed a bit once Remus finally joined him, pulling in a chair from the living room.

“Sorry,” Sirius said, motioning towards the chair.

“Oh don’t worry about it!” Mrs Lupin reassured, joining them. “We’re happy to have an excuse to bring in extra chairs.”

Sirius forced himself to smile at her. He had been off all day, and he felt bad that he couldn’t show his gratitude more towards her, but now that he wasn’t alone with Remus, everything seemed to be rushing back to him like it always did, except now, there was so much more to come rushing back.

Everyone grabbed whatever they wanted from the table, and Remus didn’t wait for his parents to take a bite before scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. It felt so much like Hogwarts in the Great Hall except, for some reason, he was feeling extremely awkward. It was easy to act like his normal self at school, but he thought that maybe being in an actual home setting like this was throwing him off.

“So, has the four wheeler been fixed yet?” Remus asked his parents as he put green beans and corn onto Sirius’ plate for him.

If Sirius was Remus, he would have blushed, but instead he just picked up his fork and twiddled it a bit in his hand before taking a bite.

“I had the Johnsons come take a look at it, and I bought a few parts, but we haven’t taken it on a test drive yet. Maybe you and Sirius can go out for a spin while you’re here,” Mr Lupin said as he cut off a piece of ham from a dish in the middle.

“Yeah, okay,” Remus responded. “You’ll like the four wheeler,” he added, turning towards Sirius.

Sirius stopped the bite he was about to take and looked up at Remus, noticing that everyone was looking at him. “Umm, what’s a four wheeler again?”

Mr Lupin rose an eyebrow at Sirius, which made him feel worse since he was the only one other than Sirius who had grown up in an all wizard in family. Usually Sirius didn’t feel weird about not knowing Muggle things because James wouldn’t know either, and when it was just Remus and Peter, they would explain it like it was no problem.

“Oh, it’s a Muggle vehicle. It’s fun; I’ll show you later,” Remus said casually.

Mr Lupin was still eyeing Sirius, and Sirius tried to pretend that he didn’t notice Mrs Lupin flinch a bit when Remus said Muggle.

“Right, okay,” Sirius responded, his eyes downcast.

“So, Sirius, tell us about yourself,” Mr Lupin said, breaking the tension.

Sirius sat up straighter, and looked Mr. Lupin in the eye the way his parents had drilled him into doing when he was younger. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell us about your family. We met James’ parents briefly at the train station a few times,” Mr Lupin said.

It was implied that he was pointing out the fact that he had never spoken to Sirius’ parents at the train station. Sirius saw Remus tense a bit next to him.

“Well, I have a younger Regulus,” Sirius started, feeling like that was probably the safest option than starting with his parents.

“That’s nice,” Mrs Lupin exclaimed. “I know Remus would have always liked to have a younger sibling.

Sirius turned to Remus with a bit of shock in his eyes. He hadn’t known that about him, but he realized that it made sense. Remus laughed it off.

“Yeah, siblings are great,” Sirius commented, trying to push the image of Reggie’s appalled expression at the train station.

“What’s your brother like?” Mrs Lupin asked at the same time that Mr Lupin said, “Tell us about your parents.”

Sirius couldn’t even answer either question before Remus interjected with a hushed, “Dad.”

Mr Lupin looked up, and Sirius could now see the expression in his face was one of someone feigning innocence. Sirius was pretty good at reading people, but he was especially good at reading Remus, and Mr Lupin shared many of the same mannerisms as Remus. Sirius felt like he was missing something.

“Um, my brother is like me, but smarter and more responsible, so maybe he isn’t really like me,” Sirius joked, trying to ease the tension. Mrs Lupin laughed lightly. Mr Lupin narrowed his eyes. “And my parents travel a lot and have many responsibilities, so I don’t see them often.” Sirius said, not really lying.

“That’s too bad. We’re probably the opposite over here. Don’t get out nearly enough. I’m sure Remus is sick of us,” Mrs Lupin noted.

“That’s not true. I could never get sick of you, Mum,” Remus reassured.

“What responsibilities do your parents have?” Mr Lupin questioned, breaking the soft moment.

“Umm,” Sirius started.

“What’s with the interrogation?” Remus asked, somehow managing to still sound like his gentle self even with the harsh words. Maybe Sirius was a bit biased.

Sirius would have said that it was fine, but he did want to avoid the questions about his parents, so he watched to see what would happen.

“Just trying to learn more about your friend,” Mr Lupin muttered, stuffing some mashed potatoes into his mouth.

Sirius sat stiffly in his seat, twirling around a piece of food on his fork.

“Oh! You know what? I just remembered I forgot to put out the raspberries. Freshly picked too,” Mrs Lupin exclaimed, jumping from her seat.

“Actually, Mum, don’t worry about it. I was just going to excuse myself,” Remus said, already standing up.

“Honey, you don’t have t—”

“Thanks for dinner,” he mumbled.

Sirius scrambled out of his seat to follow him, stopping to thank Mrs Lupin also. She smiled weakly at him.

Remus was already halfway onto the path outside the house when Sirius opened the door. He climbed up a grassy hill, his hair flying in the breeze, and Sirius hurried to catch up with him.

“What was that about?” he asked, grabbing Remus’ arm gently to stop him from moving so quickly.

For only a moment, Remus faltered before finally coming to a halt and dropping onto his back in the tall grass below them. They had made it to the side of the hill facing away from the house, and Sirius watched Remus for a second before dropping down to join him. Even if Remus’ parents came out, they wouldn’t be able to see them laying together from the way the hill covered them. Remus had his arm over his face, covering his eyes.

The grass tickled his arms and neck, and the breeze sent a shiver through Sirius’ spine. He turned his head into the grass, peering at Remus who still had his eyes covered.

“I’m sorry,” Remus muttered, barely audible over the breeze. “It’s just my dad, he’s been like this since…since Greyback.”

“Like what?” Sirius questioned, his voice soft.

“He doesn’t trust people. I mean, you know how jumpy I was first year. I wasn’t allowed to talk to the kids in the neighboring farms, or go to people’s houses. He already home-schooled me, but after the whole werewolf thing it felt so much worse. He shut out magic too, but you’ve seen that,” Remus sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “He warned me against making friends at Hogwarts, almost didn’t let me go.”

Sirius startled at Remus’ admission. “Wait, he almost didn’t let you got to Hogwarts?” The thought horrified him.

The blue sky was filled with white puffy clouds like a landscape painting, and Sirius trailed his eyes across it in an attempt to calm himself after hearing Remus’ admission.

“He means well,” Remus scrambled to say. “But, he warned me against the consequences of anyone finding out I was a werewolf. I know he just wants to protect me, but him asking you those questions back there was just because he doesn’t trust families like…” Remus trailed off.

“Families like mine,” Sirius finished for him.

“Sorry,” Remus apologized, cringing at the harshness of the words.

“No, I understand. He’s right not to trust me. If my parents knew that you were a werewolf…” now it was Sirius’ turn to trail off.

He couldn’t bear to think about what his parents would do if they knew that Remus was a werewolf. Probably start with trying to get him kicked out of Hogwarts.

“It doesn’t matter what your family would do. My dad should trust me, and trust the fact that I trust you. He did this with Peter and James too, but with you it’s different, and it’s driving me crazy.”

A harsh breeze blew Remus’ bangs into his face, and he shivered against it. From up on the top of the hill, it was much cooler than it had been when they first arrived.

“How are you not freezing?” Remus asked, eyeing Sirius’ bare arms.

Sirius dragged his eyes away from the blue sky to look at Remus. He rolled his eyes, wondering how a human being could possibly get as cold as Remus did even with his werewolf blood and sweaters. Sirius smiled when he remembered one of the late nights by the lake when Remus had admitted it was one of the only things that had stayed the same about him after he was bit.

“Come here,” Sirius muttered, pulling Remus towards him by the waist.

Remus moved in against Sirius, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. Sirius took Remus’ hands in his in an attempt to warm them, rubbing them gently between his.

From up on the hill, it felt like Sirius and Remus were far away from everyone, and it was just the two of them. Sirius tucked his nose into Remus’ hair and kissed the top of his head. He could feel Remus smile a little against his neck.

“I don’t mind your dad’s questions,” he whispered. “I’m good at getting around tough questions.”

“I know.” Remus’ voice was muffled against Sirius.

A smile crept up on Sirius’ face as he realized that Remus was probably thinking about all the same moments that Sirius was thinking of when he had gotten himself out of tough situations at Hogwarts with the professors.

“I don’t want to go back in yet, though.” Remus’ lips tickled Sirius’ neck as he talked, but Sirius only held Remus closer, wondering how any of this was possible.

Maybe it was just a cruel dream that he would wake up from only to discover that he was actually back at his house in his big cold bed, no Remus in sight. Sirius shivered at the image.

“I knew you were cold too,” Remus whispered.

Sirius laughed, debating if he should tell Remus why he had really shivered. He decided the thought was too terrible to voice out loud. If he did, maybe it would come true. He only kissed Remus’ temple gently.

Sirius thought that maybe it would seem weird being with Remus like this after so many years of wanting from afar, but now, with Remus tucked into his arms, it felt so right. And it wasn’t like that wanting had disappeared. If anything, now that Sirius knew what it felt like to be with Remus, it made him want him even more. It made him pull Remus closer, and cling on tightly to him, deciding in that moment that he would do anything to keep Remus.

It felt like they laid there for no time at all, but the sun was disappearing against the trees in the distance, and the moon was taking its shift. It was shining dully in the sky, unable to overpower the still-setting sun. The night only grew colder because of the breeze, despite the summer charm that had been cast over the farm, and Remus was cold against Sirius’ side.

“We should go inside,” Sirius whispered against his ear.

“No,” Remus groaned into his neck, unable to stop himself from shivering again.

“Come on.”

Remus sighed, but he slowly rolled away. His teeth immediately started to chatter. Once they were both standing, Sirius drew him in for one more hug, hoping it was dark enough that if Remus’ parents happened to look outside, they wouldn’t see Sirius trailing his fingers down their sons back and kissing gently into his neck.

Sirius may have been the one to suggest going inside, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from Remus. Remus didn’t pull away from Sirius either, so they stood there under the darkening sky, the breeze whipping against their backs, and the sound of the night slowly rising around them. The wind didn’t matter, though, because they were holding onto one another, and their faces were tucked against each other, and they were both holding back smiles.

It was complete bliss, and Sirius never wanted it to end.

[cptsdstudyblr]

How I organize my studies with mental health issues

Hi :) I’m just here trying to survive a computer science degree with CPTSD, depression, anxiety, and some physical health issues. However, I’ve figured out a system that really (!!!) helps me keep organized and actually learn things despite all the challenges I face! So, I want to share it with you in case it helps just one person! This post is pretty long, but I promise it’s got tons and tons of amazingly helpful information in it!

I’m lucky enough to have a tablet to help me with my studies, but anything I show today can easily be done on a laptop or even on a phone, so don’t stress!

Initial Note Taking

I prefer to handwrite my initial notes if possible. Sometimes, my professors just go too fast and I have to type them, but if I have the option, I choose to handwrite them. I find that handwriting my notes helps keep my mind focused on the task at hand. 

First of all, I’m a very tactile learner, so the act of writing helps me learn the material. However, I’ve found that there are tons of other benefits to writing notes by hand. 

If you’re dissociating/anxious/etc., doodling is a good way to center yourself and help yourself calm down.

Handwritten notes are easier (at least in my non-professional opinion) to make neat and pretty, which can be a huge motivator.

Many classes have diagrams, and it’s super helpful to draw these out so that you’re more likely to remember them and so you have easy access to them.

For people who are nonlinear thinkers (NOT me at all, but I know some people are nonlinear thinkers), you can write your notes in any way you see fit - a circle, a mind map, a graph, even a dodecahedron if you so desire.

And there are tons of others I don’t have time to thoroughly explain!

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with typing notes if you feel that that works better for you. I have to do that for some classes (Geology, I’m looking at you), and I don’t prefer to type my notes, but some people find that they prefer it, and that’s totally okay! There are a few quick things to keep in mind if you choose to take typed notes, however:

I find it very helpful to keep a notepad near me so that I can doodle (again for dissociation/anxiety/etc.) and so that I can draw diagrams if necessary. I’m not talented enough to create computer diagrams quickly, so I usually draw them by hand even if I’m typing my actual notes.

Put in the effort to make sure you aren’t distracted by other things on your laptop! Typing notes can be a great thing, but technology is very quick to distract people. One method I find good for me is to make my notes full screen so that it’s harder to find things to get distracted by, but there are many methods for this.

Try to keep your typed notes tidy and organized. For me, this includes having consistent tab distances, changing font colors/styles (by styles I mean bold/italic/etc.) as necessary, and most of all splitting up my notes into documents by days or topics. I use Evernote, so it’s pretty straightforward to split them up, but even if you use another system, it’s wise to figure out a way to do so. Having one long document for the entire semester is not wise because it gets very overwhelming very quickly and is just plain hard to use.

The biggest help for me, however, is after I’ve taken my notes. I use Evernote to digitize my notes. It’s super easy to do (just take a picture in the app and it scans them like a PDF), and I find that having them digital is a huge help. It means a few things for me:

I don’t have to have every notebook with me to study - just the ones I need to take notes in. This is far more related to physical health for me because I just can’t carry that many notebooks without a lot of pain, but it’s also great for people who are forgetful due to mental health issues. All you have to remember is your laptop or tablet (or really, even your phone), so it’s much easier to make sure you have everything.

I can write all over them when I’m studying without ruining the original notes. I am a big fan of scribbling all over notes (writing mnemonics, drawing diagrams, marking what I know and don’t know, etc.), but I dislike damaging my original notes. This allows me to study as messily as I want without ruining anything.

I can make multiple copies of them if I need to - one for the class I took the notes in and one for my exam revision session. This is very helpful for people who aren’t feeling well enough to rewrite or retype everything into another place when revising for an exam.

Here’s what some of my digitized notes from my operating systems class look like (please forgive my very messy drawing - OS is hard to draw sometimes):

General Studying

This section refers to studying, but not for exams. This includes things such as doing assignments, reading for classes, and other such things. The most important thing for my studying is Google Tasks! I keep all my important due dates in there, even down to the time. Here’s an example of what my Google Tasks looks like:

Apologies for the blacked-out spot - that reveals where I go to school! I use this for every single thing that has a hard due date. This makes sure that I never miss a due date no matter how forgetful I am because my list of due dates is on my cell phone! I also find it extremely rewarding to tick the box when I finish an assignment, and even something as simple as that is such a huge motivator for me.

However, this isn’t where I plan how to study for the week. I do that - you guessed it - on paper. I have a journal (which you’ll get to see in another post) where I keep a lot of important stuff - including weekly study plan spreads! That sounds super overwhelming, but they’re incredibly easy to make and very simple to maintain. I’ll show you (artful pen to hide my school name)!

Let me break this down for you really quickly:

I have my pages divided into four (one quadrant per day plus one for notes), which works pretty well for me - I never run out of space. This setup takes me less than five minutes to make each week, and I find it works very well for me.

I like to write what classes I have each day at the top of the day just so I don’t get too confused (and I highlight it if I have an exam), then underneath that, I list everything I have to do study-wise. 

I make sure to break each big task (e.g. “Study for Geology Exam) into smaller, more manageable chunks (e.g. “Make Geology flashcards,” “Revise Ch. 6 Notes,” etc.) all on different days of the week. This helps make each task seem way less overwhelming and makes me feel better about starting each task.

As you can see, my due dates are NOT on this sheet - this is more of a Study To-Do List than a list of my due dates. I do make sure to keep this updated so that I don’t miss any due dates, however.

You’ll also notice that I don’t have all that much listed for each day. It’s incredibly hard to stay ahead of things with mental health issues (I get that - I really do), but I find that staying ahead genuinely helps my mental health. If I have something to do every day, I feel productive and thus more motivated. It also gives me more leeway if I have a day where I can’t do any more than the bare minimum - I’m already ahead of schedule so I don’t need to panic. My best method for staying ahead is just to buckle down and do it. It’s not a great tip, but it’s all I’ve got (I’m allowed to struggle too - I don’t have everything together perfectly!).

Now, let’s talk about how to tackle each thing on this list.

Readings! When I have to do readings, my preferred method of note-taking is simply writing down definitions of keywords. Most of what I cover in the reading will be covered in the lecture, so I’m not too worried about jotting down every detail. However, making sure to note key words helps keep my brain engaged so I am less likely to zone out/dissociate/etc. Additionally, I can go back to those keywords to make flashcards later on.

Assignments! There’s not a whole lot to say about this one - every assignment is so different that I can’t say much beyond “do your assignments thoroughly.” However, a tip I find helps me a lot is to fully read the assignment and create a game plan before I dive in. This makes the assignment way less overwhelming and gives you concrete stopping points if you need a break.

Studying! will have its own section right below this, do not fear.

Studying

Watch this quick video (which is at the bottom of the text for some unknown reason?) of me scrolling through a study session, then I’ll explain how I study and why it works for me!

Let me just list my Studying Steps (TM) for you and break them down:

About a week before: Write all the information in a clear, consistent way.

By this I mean: Go through your notes/the slides/the textbook/anything with information and write it down freshly. I prefer (like usual) to handwrite this, but it can certainly be typed.

This is good because it requires you to reread and rewrite every piece of information, so you’re that much more likely to remember it. It also gives you all the information consolidated in one place. I like to split this up by topic (for me, each topic takes about 30 minutes to do) so that it’s more manageable. 

This seems like a lot, and it is. But, you have to study and there’s no way around that, unfortunately. Try motivating yourself with small rewards (like food, stickers, or something fun) when you finish a topic.

When you finish that: Make charts and graphs for anything that requires charts and graphs.

The diagrams part is pretty self-explanatory. If you have diagrams, redraw them on their own sheet. This makes them less cluttered and you can write things like mnemonics on them without messing up anything else. Redrawing them is also great for muscle memory!

I also like to make charts of things that I need to memorize (this is a good tool, but isn’t always right for every subject). For example, if I need to know a lot of types of rocks, I’ll make charts listing each rock and its characteristics. This way it’s easier to find the information and (once again) muscle memory will help you out.

This can be done pretty quickly, and it’s a pretty brainless activity. It’s not hard to do, so you can do it while watching Netflix if you want to. I honestly enjoy this part, though, because I find drawing charts and graphs very satisfying. 

About 3 days before: Make flashcards and study them consistently.

This is very important!

I like to use paper flashcards (just so I have to write the information once again), but digital ones work fairly well too.

Memorization is actually a fantastic tool to help with studying with mental health issues. Sometimes brain fogginess makes it hard to think of things that you know, but couldn’t recite. However, if you have it fully memorized, it’s generally much easier to pull out of the depths of your mind.

Once again, this is pretty easy to do (not quick though, sorry), and can be done while you’re doing something else more fun.

The day before: Go through your notes, annotate what you don’t know, and rewrite it until you know it.

This is the most important part of studying for me. 

The evening before the exam, I go through every bit of my notes, charts, graphs, etc. and highlight what I 100% know.

Then, I take more paper (or often a digital piece of paper) and write out what I know, trying to focus my energy on finding ways to remember the information such as mnemonics, word associations, or the like.

I do this as many times as I need to until I feel good about how much information I have highlighted - I try to get to 85-90%, but that can vary by subject.

This is kind of tedious, but I find it easier to motivate myself since it is the final stretch. I’m also usually kind of stressed out about the exam by this point, so that works as a good motivator too.

[crimsonblackrose]

I’m officially reunited with about 90% of my things. It’s weird. Very very weird but I feel like there’s some stable ground beneath my feet. It just feels nice to not be living out of a suitcase that’s mostly business professional clothing and be reunited with comfy college t-shirts. I’ve gone through all of my stuff, mostly organized it, and set up a bookcase. As a lifelong bookworm and someone who went to college for writing, I have a lot of books. And I haven’t read all of those books. So I decided books I haven’t read or don’t remember reading will go on the bookcase. The rest will stay in their boxes.

My plan when I was expecting to come home pre-pandemic was to frequent the library but try and focus on the books I haven’t read yet that I own. I figured if there were things I desperately wanted to read that I couldn’t get at the library I’d get it for my e-reader or maybe at the store after getting a job. But then the pandemic happened and our library has only recently opened so e-reader and my TBR bookcase should get me through for a while. (Plus I can always grab something off of my aunt or uncle’s bookshelves if I need to branch out. They’ve already given me recommendations.)

The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri by Dante Alighieri. This book is too big to fit on the shelves so it’s chilling at the top with my Korean Count of Monte Cristo musical book. This is one of my Dad’s books that he gave me when he moved. I’m sure I missed more that are in a box in the basement. I organized but I have lot of books so I know I missed things.f

So buckle up here’s all the books on my bookcase in no particular order. Shelf #!.

The Earthsea Trilogy by Ursula K. Le Guin Ursula K. Le Guin is a staple author for fantasy and I thought for sure I’d read this but I wasn’t 100% sure so I grabbed it anyway.

Monsterkind by Taylor C. I kickstarted this a long time ago and it’s one of the things in my boxes that I didn’t realize I had because I’m pretty sure it arrived while I was in Korea. I’ve sadly missed the cut off for book two but am pretty excited to jump into this.

This Dark Endeavor by Kenneth Oppel. I don’t know when or where I got it but looking at the tag line I can see why I found it intriguing “The Apprenticeship of Victor Frankenstein” sounds fun.

And Another thing… Douglas Adams Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Part six of Three by Eoin Colfer. Fun fact when I was in elementary through high school I read everything Eoin Colfer I could get my hands on and I loved The Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy and everything I’ve read by Douglas Adams so this was a no brainer. Though I haven’t read it because I guess I don’t know what it is.Aa sequel? A prequel? Something in between? No idea, it’ll be a fun adventure.

What You Don’t Know About Men by Michael Burke. This is one of those books where I’m just staring at it wondering where it came from and why I have it.  It is signed and after deep diving my own Instagram it’s a book from college. But whether I met the author at an event, something I was volunteering for or at school is beyond me.

Gramarye City by Paul Revere Lester. This is another signed book, but I’m pretty sure it’s self published since there was nothing about it on Goodreads. Could be wrong. But this one I don’t know if it’s from high school writer’s club or what since it, like the last one references my own writing and cheers me on in the note with the signing.

Fiery Dark Secret by Emma Bown Meyer this one is also signed but doesn’t reference my own writing or any sort of cheering me on so who knows. I’m going to assume this is from a library event where the authors came and signed their books from when I was in high school.

Hush Girls by Emily Hansen. Another signed book. You could guess that I don’t read books I get signed but in this case this came out this year and it’s one of the few books I’ve recently purchased. Emily Hansen was one of my cohorts and I try my best to support my cohorts.

Lost in the City by Edward P. Jones, did I get this book because it was recommended reading in college or because it looks cool or was it gifted to me? No clue.

Zombies vs Unicorns. This is a collection of short stories about Zombies versus Unicorns. So each author picked a team and wrote a story to try and grab the reader to their side and some of my favorite authors are in this collection and it’s just super cool looking so I’m greatly looking forward to reading it.

Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris, oh this book hasn’t been read out of pure spite. My department in college had this thing where we had to go and attend “literary” events and then write about them as part of our grade. The problem being there were plenty of literary events for people over the age of 21. So many readings and events that our teachers recommended did not work for those of us under the age of 21 who weren’t allowed in the bars. For one of these my friend said that a famous author had an event at Borders (RIP) on the other end of the city from where we lived. So a small group of us went all the way out to that Borders realized we weren’t early enough to sit in on the discussion which was then sold out and our best and final bet was to get a number for the book signing. So we did that and got dinner nearby. My friends had books but I had nothing to get signed. This book was one of the few ones out and on sale so I bought it and then spent the many hours left waiting in that line reading manga.

Here’s the thing. Kudos to David Sedaris’s work ethic. He’s one of those authors who will stay until everyone in line goes through as long as the place is willing to stay open. Which is super cool. But for me, a college kid who was utterly exhausted and had never even heard of the author before, showed up at 3am after waiting in line for ages to learn Mr. Sedaris either requests a joke or gives you a joke when he meets you. I really really just wanted to get the book signed so I could go back to my dorm and sleep and then write up my journal entry for class. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. And my humor isn’t really okay with cancer jokes at any time let alone 3am. So I haven’t read this book. It’s been on my shelves for ages, moved from dorm room to dorm room to boxes and forgotten. But it’s signed. And even though I’m still very bitter I’m willing to give it a shot. But I don’t have high hopes.

Listen to the Echos, The Ray Bradbury Interviews by Sam Weller, to continue with the books I’m bitter about and have been putting off reading. This book is also signed and the signing is the part that I’m a little bitter about. Again backstory time. So there’s two things you should know. One is that my school would host some pretty cool events from time to time with dinners and what not with authors or other people in the arts and one of my best college friends and her family went to this school fancy dinner at, I believe, the school’s President’s home and they very sweetly got me this book. What kills me on the inside is the signing.

Lauren!

A gift from the —– family!

Live Forever!

Sam Weller

Now you might be like well it is a gift, right? True. But the kicker. The painful kicker was that Sam Weller was my teacher. I was in his Ray Bradbury class at the time this was signed. I spent an entire semester learning about what made Ray Bradbury who he was and how his short stories and works created a ripple effect that gave us so many beloved movies, stories and idioms we have today. I loved that class. I planned to get this book myself and get it signed because I enjoyed it and the teacher so much. And this is the equivalent of getting “Have a great summer” in your yearbook. Now to be real, he probably didn’t put two and two together and at some point, I could’ve tried to get it re-signed but I didn’t. I should’ve, I wish I did. Because I remember laughing about it and taking the book to class but I chickened out. I think, in all honesty, it has to do with teachers who make huge impacts on you and then forgetting who you are when you’re not in class with them. My college departmental advisor just completely forgot who I was when I went to visit after graduating. I get it. I do, but it sure does sting.

Breverton’s Nautical Curiosities by Terry Breverton which is a delightful book about nautical things, another passion of mine from growing up. I’ve never sat down and read it but I’ve flipped through it many a time.

Feeding Hannibal a Connoisseur’s Cookbook by Janice Poon. I loved this TV show and I’m forever in awe of Janice Poon and how she made the food look appetizing but also vaguely human (gross, very gross) while also edible for the cast. I bought this in Korea at the Seoul Comic Con and brought it home.

Healing Herbal Teas: A Complete Guid to Making Delicious, Healthful Beverages by Brigitte Mars, A.H.G. I don’t know if you know this but I love tea. I’m warming up to coffee in the same way I am to booze, as long as I don’t taste it we’re good. But with tea I’m obsessed. This was a gift. I haven’t set about reading it but I am curious about it.

Onto shelf #2

East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I’m not sure if other majors have this but my department while I was there was pretty obsessed with this book. Not teacher’s necessarily but my cohorts talked about it a lot and said they loved it or talked about how it shaped them. So I bought it. Don’t know why since one of the go-to books that drew a lot of students to our school and department because the teacher worked there  creeped me out but hey, willing to give this massive book a try.

The Revenge of the Shadow King by Derek Benz and J.S. Lewis. This is a book that’s been on my shelf a long time. Probably since around when it came out in 2005 that I just kept putting off reading even though I knew I wanted to read it. I’m a sucker for fantasy novels with fey or even a twisty dark vibe to them.

Eyes Like Stars by Lisa Mantchev. I’m going to be honest, bought this book because of the cover. It was a pretty art style with faeries of some kind.

The Magicina of Hoad by Margaret Mahy, for a paperback this book is super shiny. Not sure if that’s why I got it or because anything genre tended to grab my attention in high school.

Timeline by Michael Crichton. In my first year of college, my group of friends and I had a secret Santa and the person who had me didn’t have a clue what to get me except books. So he decided to do one of my favorite things ever which was to get me some books that were his favorites. This is one of them that I hadn’t gotten around to reading yet.

Procession of the Dead by Darren Shan. I’ve been saving this one. I spent most of high school and college devouring any nightmarish adventure Darren Shan concocted. The Thin Executioner is still one of my favorites despite being so ghastly. This one though I remember spotting at the store and going “how dare no one tell me he’d come out with a new book?” And grabbing it. However after living overseas so long I’m sure I’m behind on a lot of books and authors I used to keep up to date on before.

The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel: The Sorceress, The Necromancer and the Magician by Michael Scott. You may remember I’ve read the first in this series and did not enjoy it. But I heard from some other readers that the series gets better and since I have these three books as hard backs which aren’t cheap I’m determined to read them and give them a shot before…probably donating them.

Lost in Space by Ben Tanser. My college hosted a literary event every year while I was there called Story Week. They invited authors and publishers and agents to celebrate books and share what they knew and it was free. As a person who volunteered for it several times it means I’m not sure if I bought all the books I own or if I just got some of the books and this is one of them. I know the publisher was big with our school, our teachers and faculty loved Curbside Splendor, but again I don’t know. This isn’t signed so I think it’s a case of I got it to better understand the publisher and then didn’t get around to reading it because I had big paper’s due like every other day and required reading as well as job and club responsibilities. How I got any fun reading done is beyond me.

The Old Neighborhood by Bill Hillmann is one that I’m kind of embarrassed I didn’t read before now. It’s signed and the author came to class to talk to us about his work because he was good friends with our teacher. He seemed pretty cool and still does. He usually does the Running of the Bulls in Spain and actually got pretty injured one year and made international news.

Where’d you go, Bernadette by Maria Semple. I got this book for free as part of “World Book Night U.S. April 23, 2014” which is pretty cool but I did not read it when I think I was supposed to. Nearly over 6 years late on that one. Sorry World Book Night.

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. I don’t know about this one. Did I get it because movies were being adapted of Ayn Rand’s work? Did I get it because people were talking about it? Did I get it just out of curiosity because her work is so polarising and pretty much as hated as Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey were within my cohort? Was it on a list of books to read? Not a clue. I’ve read Atlas Shrugged since and looking at the size of this book it’s going to be a long journey of tiny print.

The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett. My local public library when I was growing up would participate in a book event where they’d pick a book and then everyone could sign up for that book and they’d host events related to it. Like a big massive book club. Chicago did it too with Neverwhere and many others. I signed up, got the book and then…didn’t read it.

The Princess and the Pirates: The Timelight Stone by Mio Chizuru. This book is a library book. A high school library book that they stamped with rejected and removed all the stuff on it. I assume I got this from a book sale of our library getting rid of books or the librarian just told me she was getting rid of books and since I was working there during my free periods repairing books. The bonus I guess of being a constant presence. It looks like manga but it’s actually a novel, so it’ll be interesting.

Emerald Death by Bill Craig I’m not 100% certain but I’m pretty sure this was from my childhood public library again. It’s signed and I think it was from one of the author events.

The Best of Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet this is like Lost in Space. I bought this so I could better understand the publication because my genre teachers were full of praise for Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet and honestly loved the style. But got too busy to read it. I’m sure I have another collection or two for a different publisher in my boxes somewhere but that can wait. I’ve never really been one to read anthologies or collections of short stories so these types of books usually fall a bit on my TBR list. But I should read them.

Push and The Kid by Sapphire. Both of these are signed and were from a literary event while I was in college through the Harold Washington Library. I think I attended an interview at the library where she discussed her work. From what I remember I know these books aren’t going to be the happiest so I am pretty sure that’s why I’ve set them aside.

The final shelf time.

The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer.  I borrowed this book in high school from my dad because we were supposed to read it in English and then…never did. I don’t know why. We probably we got too busy in the other books we were supposed to read that we also never finished. Like Julius Ceaser by Shakespeare that we just stopped reading after he died. So, thank you, Dad, for letting me keep it along with all the others.

The Three Theban Plays by Sophocles, this book is pretty beaten up but I always grab classics even if 70% of the time I hate them. This was probably for a class, quite possibly the most frustrating class I ever took, or I found it cheap somewhere.

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo I picked this up in Paris. Pretty sure I read some copy of this in high school in French and I’ve seen the musical in Korean and the movie version as well as the old film of the musical my French teacher had…but we’ll see how I remember it as I go with the translated English.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo. I also got this in Paris. I’ve never read it but after learning about how it single handedly saved Notre Dame I feel like I have to.

Redwall: The Rogue Crew by Brian Jacques. This is the last book Brain Jacques wrote that was published posthumously. I loved Redwall so much and I’m pretty sure I’ve read almost every novel Brian Jacques wrote. When he died I was heartbroken and I got the book but just couldn’t bring myself to read it.

Artemis Fowl the Atlantis Complex by Eoin Colfer, I loved the Artemis Fowl series when I was younger and I really want to jump into this book which is book 7 in the series but I think I’m going to have to go back through my boxes and find the rest of them before reading book seven. It’s been waaaayyyy too long.

The Faeman Quest by Herbie Brennan is another series I absolutely adored when I was younger. Again it’s another where it’s been so long I’ll probably have to re-read the previous books in The Faerie Wars Chronicles to fully understand what’s going on here.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman. Up to this point I was fairly good at reading all of Neil Gaiman’s works. And attending any event he had in Chicago. This one I remember going to with a bunch of friends at the Music Box theater and then staying up late with them to get it signed. It was a fun event but I was saving it to read later since it’s a small book.

Silas Marner by George Eliot not sure where this one came from but I haven’t read it so here it is. I recognize the title though but don’t know why.

A Confusion of Princes by Garth Nix. I love books by Garth Nix he’s one of those authors in Zombies vs Unicorns but I haven’t gotten around to reading this one or even finishing the series of his I started and loved when I was younger. (I don’t like things to end)

Swords of Riverside by Ellen Kushner. This has harlequin romance vibes from the cover but also older fantasy/historical novel vibes. Don’t know where I got it or why but it’ll be interesting for sure. Very curious to see which it falls into or if just the long hair blown back by invisible wind on the male character was just for fun.

Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld, middle school/high school me might not have jumped on the Uglies train whenever one else did but I apparently went ahead and got this book by the author. (Fun fact he’s also in Zombies vs Unicorns). I assume I grabbed it because of the familiar author name and the steampunk vibe of the cover.

Seven Sorcerers by Caro King has a spooky-looking cover with magic vibes, my go to when I was younger.

Changeling by Delia Sherman, when I tell you any sort of fantasy fey adventure or magic novel usually ended up on my shelf just because it fell into that category I’m not joking. This cover is kinda creepy and weird but I can see why I got it because of the title. Oh boy.

These are the books that I plan to read for the most part of the rest of this year. Mixing in e-books and maybe some old ones. There are more books on my bookcase but those are reference or books I’ve read but didn’t remember until I started making this list and realized I had. I also have several books that I didn’t realize were book 6 of a series where I haven’t read or own book one through five. So that’s going to require being set aside until I can check books out from the library. (I’m putting it off because I’m trying to figure out how to renew my library card that’s been inactive for over 5 years during a pandemic)

Anyway wish me luck.

What are some books you’ve had on your shelf for a long time and haven’t gotten rid of but also haven’t read yet?

TBR Bookcase tour I'm officially reunited with about 90% of my things. It's weird. Very very weird but I feel like there's some stable ground beneath my feet.