#one of my professors once corrected the entire class that you don’t ‘base [something] ON [something]’ but rather ‘UPON [something]’

[hanzajesthanza]

Fellow writer: I think when you say "glazed over" sometimes, you mean "glossed over". I guess it's semantics, and that error is more common in gen Z writing (so maybe it will even become standard), but I found it confusing.

maybe i was just thinking about donuts ;)

just kidding—thank you! i thought they were interexchangable.

[yourmidnightlover]

the nickname

Summary: reader convinced spencer to let her take the reins in the bedroom... or does she?

TW: oral (male recieving), fingering, mention of overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, riding, scratching, use of nicknames (princess, love, etc.), hints at sugar daddy!spencer, age gap (not specified but i’m thinking around 10-15 years). *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,912

A/N: this hinted at sugar daddy!spencer (not really hinted so much as saying it outright). I also wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s fic contest for her birthday! i believe it’s prompt number 21. i hope you enjoy :)

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you had been together for a while, now. maybe 13 months? you bet spencer could recall - more like knew he could.

you had met when you were one of his students. you're going to georgetown on an academic scholarship because no way in hell could you pay for the full tuition when you still couldn't afford it with the scholarships.

he took a liking to you - how could he not? you were a hard worker and proved yourself to be extremely determined. on top of the obvious intelligence, you had a beauty that radiated around you. and that beauty had a touch of... innocence. and maybe that innocent beauty is what initially attracted him to you, but he'd like to think it was just your personality as a whole.

you were never one of the students who would come to his office after hours for help you clearly didn't need. you would use your colored pens and highlighters to help organize your notes, so it took a while to pack everything up to leave.

one day, when there weren't any students lined up out his door, he went to your seat as you were cleaning up. you looked up, rather surprised that your inappropriate crush was standing right by you.

"uhm... hi," you smiled at him as you put your pencil pouch in your bag, breaking eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning your attention back to him.

"hi. i was uhm..." he cleared his throat, "i was wondering if you had any questions? you never come to the office hours for questions and i was just... just making sure," he stuttered out.

"oh," you chuckled a light, airy laugh that spencer wished he had recorded so he could replay it over and over and over. "i don't have any questions. i guess that just means that you're a really good professor - very thorough," you stood up and flung the bag over your shoulder, still incredibly shorter than him.

"than-thank you," he smiled. "i'm happy to hear that you're actually getting something out of the lessons," you began walking out of the classroom, looking back to ensure that he was following you.

"yes, i truly do," you agreed. "i'm also pretty sure i'm one of the other people who isn't auditing the class," you added.

"correct, you are," he enthusiastically gestured, another laugh leaving your beautiful lips.

"i mean, you can't necessarily blame them for just taking the class," you chuckled as he held the door open for you, you gave him a subtle 'thank you.'

"what do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone.

"i mean you- you're..." you trailed off, gesturing to his entire body in hopes to convey what you meant. he just looked at you with a confused taste, letting you know you needed to elaborate. "you're very... attractive, professor reid."

"oh-that's very... thank you," he blushed as you halted by the bus stop.

"of course," you turned around, looking up to meet his eyes. "so... wait, what time is it?" you asked rather frantically.

"it's," he looked at his silver watch adorning his wrist, "6:27."

"shit," you swore for the first time in front of him, underneath your breath.

"wha-what is it?" he asked, perplexed as to why you would be so frustrated.

"the last bus leaves at 6:15 and i've missed it," you huffed out, trying to compose yourself before checking your bag and realizing, "i forgot my key and my roommate is at her girlfriend's house."

"is there anything i could do?" he asked concerned.

"no i can... i can just stay at the library. i should probably study up anyway," you tried to laugh it off although you knew it was pointless... he was a profiler for christ's sake.

"the library? y/n, this might seem a bit inappropriate but i have a spare room you could stay in until your roommate gets back," he offered kindly.

so, you took him up on his offer.

you slept in his spare room after he got you both takeout. you laughed and talked for what seemed like meer minutes but turned out to be until 1 a.m. you talked about string theory and the leonard euler's paradox. he gave you interesting facts about tortoises and achilles.

that little hangout session turned into countless hangouts over the span of three months. and then he asked you out on a real date once you finished at the top of his class - and not just because you were his favorite.

the first time with spencer was... beyond delightful. he was captivating with the way he worked against and for your body. it was almost as if he felt like his sole purpose on earth was to please you. he was eager, yet patient with the way his tongue flicked and sucked at your skin.

he was such a dominant personality in the bedroom, which was extremely appreciated since you didn't have much experience in that arena. but now that you were more versed in that world, you wanted to experiment a bit more.

casually, he began to pay for your things. it wasn't so head-on at first. it would be paying for your groceries, or buying all of your college books for you. but then it got a bit bigger. when your roommate couldn't give you the necessary half of the rent that was due and was beginning to be a nuisance, spencer quite literally let you move into his place. he would pay for your car's repairs and bought you jewelry consistently.

one time, as a joke, you called him your sugar daddy - mostly because that's how he acted. he just didn't like the term. he felt as though it made your relationship together seem one-sided when you were, in fact, very in love with the man. you came to realize it also made you seem like a gold digger, which you weren't - even though the money is a nice plus. so, you relented and didn't say that again.

spencer never really had much time off now that he was working back at the bau and traveling but now, you had him to yourself for a whole week. you had been planning this since he told you when he'd be off.

step 1: look sexy - you always looked sexy to him, but feeling sexy would also be a plus.

step 2: surprise him while looking sexy - absolutely devious.

step 3: seduce him - when doesn't he want you? exactly.

it was foolproof.

you had gotten the text 15 minutes ago that spencer was on his way back to his place, wanting you to meet him there once he had settled in. little did he know that you were in a sexy little white number - the white reminded him of your innocence which really got him going - lying in wait for him in a pair of heels. you sat in one of his reading chairs, deciding to pick up a book until he got home.

when you heard the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door, you assumed your position. the chair was turned toward the door, you sitting pretty with one leg crossed over the other.

spencer walked through the door, hanging his coat and briefcase up before finally noticing you. his eyebrows shot up, looking your body up and down hungrily.

"wow," he smiled a wicked grin as he slowly made his way to where you were sitting. you stood up, heels clicking as they hit the floor and walked closer to him.

"i wanna try something," you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly until he was forced to sit down on the couch.

"and what would that be, princess?" he asked, hands stroking your hair that was cascading down your back.

"i..." you bent down to whisper in his ear, "i want to be in charge tonight," you placed a soft kiss below his earlobe, feeling his body shudder subtly at the proposition.

"are you sure you can handle that?" he chuckled, hands roaming to your waist and grinding your hips down on his.

you almost gave up. almost. you grasped his hands, placing them on the arm of the couch before getting close to his face. your lips were almost touching before you whispered, "no touching today, pretty boy."

you felt his hips rut up against your core, you chuckled at his eagerness. you decided to throw him a bone and ground down, hard, against his hips. the groan he let out was low and enticing, nearly enough to allow you to give him whatever he wanted.

"bedroom," you whispered against his neck before getting off of his lap, allowing him to scurry to the room. "take off your clothes while you're at it!" you giggled under your breath as you heard his clothes shuffling, telling you that he was obeying your request.

you waited a couple of minutes until you went into the room, wanting to have him go a bit insane like he normally did to you. when you walked in, he was laying on his back on the bed, just like you wanted. his cock was already red and leaky, prominent as it bounced on his tummy.

"good boy, spence," you giggled, walking over to him and straddling his legs.

once you were settled, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before trailing them down his torso, leaving the occasional hickey scattered on his chest. traveling kisses down his happy trail, you traced the vein on his dick and watched it twitch up and hit his stomach once again you giggled at the reaction.

"now i understand why you like so much responsiveness," you chuckled as you pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the tip of his cock, he hissed once again from the contact.

you slowly took his cock in your mouth, agonizingly slow, and flattened your tongue at the base. one you got him as far down you could manage, you began bobbing your head just as slow. his hands flew to your hair, trying to force you to go faster until you swatted them away.

"should i tie those up?" you threatened, your hand working at his member as you spoke.

"are you fucking kidding me?" he swore, clearly agitated by your antics.

"no," you squeezed his dick for punctuation, the way he grunted made the wetness pool in your underwear. "i'm not kidding you."

you took him in your mouth once more, bobbing your head far more vigorously than before this time, just to spite him. hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him and began gagging around his dick before coming back up for air.

"fuck," he whispered underneath his breath, not wanting to let you know just how much of an effect you had on him.

you smiled to yourself and continued your antics until he was spilling all down your throat. you didn't stop there, you came back up and let your hand continue pumping his member slowly.

"shit," he hissed from the stimulation.

"shhh," you put your free finger up to his lips.

you gave his dick a few more strokes, curses leaving his lips delightfully before you drew your hands up his body once more before straddling his lap. after moving your panties to the side and slicking his cock with your arousal, you ground against him leisurely, trying to tease him a bit more. you unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. finally, you reached between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you can do this?" spencer asked, not to entice you, but to make sure you were alright.

"there's a first for everything," you chuckled, knowing you had never been on top before.

you had never been on top before - you'd like to blame your lack of experience. you knew it might be hard to keep up the pace, but you were determined to make not only yourself but also make spencer feel good. that's all you've ever wanted. that's what you're meant to do - make him feel good. so no matter what it took, you'd make it happen.

you slowly lowered yourself onto his dick, being wary of how much bigger he felt from the new angle.

"shit," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest in attempt to ground yourself. "oh god..." you trailed off, feeling your dominant personality fade away as the pleasure overtook you.

"keep going, princess," he spurred you on, his hands finding your waist and rubbing gentle circles on your skin. "you've got it."

so you rose on your knees until only his tip was inside of you for you to lower yourself once more. you whimpered from the feeling of him re-entering your body, your pussy clenching around him as if he were an intruder.

"doing so good for me," he grasped your waist a bit tighter so he could help you rise and fall on his cock. "fuck, it's so good."

"d-doctor, i-" you stuttered, the persona nearly entirely gone and nowhere to be seen as he continued to move you up and down.

when you learn forward, your face hovering over spencer's chest, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms entirely around your waist. before you knew it, he was slamming his length into your pussy over and over and over and over again.

"oh! oh my god," you moaned, your voice reaching a higher octave as he drilled into your body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. "don't stop! don't stop! ple-please!" you screamed out, your hands wrapping around his torso and squeezing his body to ensure that he was there - present.

"i won't, princess. just let go. let go for me," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head so sweetly in contrast to how he was fucking you.

"i'm cumming! oh god, i'm cumming, spencer!" you cried out as you released the tension from inside of you.

only spencer wasn't done yet, so he took himself out of you, and he placed you on your back before reentering you. he moved in and out of you at a godly pace, trying to get himself to his climax before you would become too overwhelmed from the overstimulation.

"spen- spencer," you scratched at his back, surely leaving red marks for him to ogle once you were through. "i-i'm close," you sucked lightly at his earlobe before he moved his hand between the two of you, circling the little bundle of nerves at your crest.

"my little insatiable bunny, huh?" he smiled as you whimpered into his ear, nearing your second release. "loves my cock a bit too much, huh?"

"please! fuck!" you shouted out as you came on his dick, pulling at his hair. the clenching and fluttering of your pussy finally sending him over the edge, his hot release flooding your insides.

"fuck," he groaned into your ear as he carried the two of you through your releases. "good job, princess," he pressed a kiss to your neck as you stroked his hair, playing with it as you were still coming down.

"i'm sorry," you frowned once he pulled out, finally making eye contact as he lay down beside you.

"what for?" he asked incredulously.

"i just... i wanted to make you proud and i couldn't even finish without your help," you explained in a whiney manner, not allowing yourself to meet his beautiful eyes.

"hey," he grasped your chin to force you to make eye contact. "i love it when i have to help you reach that high. that's not something to be embarrassed or upset about."

"i know but i wanted to ride you and i couldn't even do that," you rolled your eyes.

"it takes time to get used to doing that," he chuckled. "and besides, riding someone on the bed is never a good way to begin. the couch is always better - that way you have the back of it to hold onto."

"really? so it's not that i'm just terrible at being a top?" your eyes widened with hope, he smiled at your eagerness.

"i think you could be a switch but it needs a bit of work, my love," he brushed your hair behind your ear before seeing your disappointed gaze and adding, "but i'll bet that with enough practice i could start calling you my little bunny, yea?"

"really?" you perked up at the proposition. "i want you to call me that."

"well then, i guess we better start practicing," he grinned before leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, his hands flying to your waist as he stood the both of you up to go to the couch.

needless to say, with spencer's guidance you were able to master the art of riding him. and you got that special little nickname, too.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@emilyprentisslittlewhore​

@spenxerslut​

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment saying so!

[twst-campos13]

ANWHWHAHHAHAH YEAHHHH NONBINARY/MALE FOCUSED BLOG THIS IS EVERYTHING IVE WANTED UR SO POGGERS!! can i have an agender reader who’s dating vil where he gets turned into a catboy? you can choose whatever format you like! congrats on the new blog; i cant stress how happy i am to see a blog like this!

Hi mac!! thank you for visiting my blog!! here’s your request >:0!! I hope you enjoy it! (some commentary in the notes!)

Warnings: mild language! Tags: agender reader, catboy Vil, fluff!

Simply put it, Professor Crewel assigned his class to perfect an animal shifting potion for the authentic assessment. Something as advanced as this could not be perfected without any assistance, so of course, you approached the person that you know excelled in this area.

At first, Vil Schoenheit declined. “There is a reason why Professor Crewel strictly assigned it as an individual assessment, potato,” Vil Schoenheit said with a certain amusement in his tone despite his stoic features. You pouted, tugging on his hand and pleading to help you with this assessment. Eventually he gave in but only on one condition: he will only be assisting you and that is final as you should be the one doing most of the work. If Vil is helping you, then that is enough for you.

After a grueling 6 hours later, you have reached the near end of your potion brewing. The potion that was mildly viscous and muddy turned smooth and dappled white in color. It smells mildly pungent however, a contrast to the clean appearance of the potion. Even Vil's nose scrunched at the smell. "Lovely," he commented.

"This means it worked right?" You asked, looking down at the swirling liquid and watching a few bubbles rapidly pop at the surface. You would need to simmer it for a few more minutes before taking it off the heat and cooling. Vil studied the simmering brew. "An animal shifting potion's appearance vary from color and smell based on what animal you wish to transform into," he said. "I would not conclude its success without testing it."

You looked at him innocently. "Will you drink it for me then?"

You nearly laugh when his face slightly contorts to disbelief. "I came with you as an assistant, not a test subject." Vil planted his hands firmly on his waist. "What reason do you have to not consume it yourself?"

You remembered a mundane ingredient added to the potion. "I'm allergic to nutmeg," you answered.

You were not allergic to nutmeg.

Vil squinted his eyes at you and you smiled. Sighing with a roll of his eyes, he takes out a small kit from his bag. It was a rectangular mahogany box, varnished, with intricate gold borders. Inside were empty vials and flasks with nameless labels. "Fine. But I will not be drinking straight from a beaker. That is highly dangerous and unethical."

"Ace and Grim did it once or twice." Your queen looked at you with a certain judgement behind his goggles. "You often forget that I am different from them, darling," Vil stated.

Your eyes looked back and forth on your notes and your boyfriend. His skin became noticeably paler and he was visibly perspiring. Once you identified the obvious signs of discomfort, you knew the potion was taking effect. Vil was quick to unbutton his lab coat—and suddenly you remembered that you still have an ounce of decency left and turned away. You bit the inside of your cheek as excitement bubbled at the pit of your stomach. You were excited about two things: one, being that you may have successfully brewed an animal shifting potion; and two, you get to see Vil Schoenheit turn into a cute little furball—

You...did not expect his voice to exasperatedly purr your name.

Startled, you turned around—forgetting the moments before that was disrobing himself; he must be covered in fur somehow—and became even more startled that you nearly elbowed nearby equipment. You gaped at him, words failing to form out of your mouth and instead stammering gibberish that soon turned into a single, coherent, verbal reaction.

"Holy fuck."

"How eloquent," Vil snide sarcastically, his tail—holy fuck it's so big and fluffy—swaying behind him.

You tried not to—but you did—took note of his partially disheveled appearance. His lab coat and goggles were neatly placed on the table. His pants were slightly hung loose around his waist and a few buttons of his shirt collar were undone, exposing the dip of his neck. Both of you were expecting at least some fur to cover his skin, but alas, there was none.

Instead, a pair of fluffy ears twitched atop his head, and a tail nearly round and fashioned from the clouds, soft around the edges and puffed up like a squirrel's. But Vil did not turn into a squirrel. He turned into a minuet cat. Half-cat. You turned Vil into a catboy. It seems the potion did not work in a way you were expecting it to.

"I don't understand," was all you could say. Vil scoffed. "Now you speak after ogling at me?" He raised a brow, tail flicking behind him at a sudden intonation. You noticed that his manner of speaking changed a little. If he was elegant before he is certainly more elegant now. Like...a domesticated cat that perfected etiquette lessons.

"I wasn't ogling—I was just staring, surprised," you corrected, despite the heat at the tip of your ears. Vil hummed—purred—and his eyes narrowed at you. "Ogling and staring are two very similar things, darling."

You question if he is purring on purpose. Every syllable at the end of his sentence ended with a smooth purr. Maybe, you thought, it is just an adverse effect of the potion.

So, you tried retracing your steps. Where did it possibly went wrong? All ingredients were measured carefully, weighed even, and you made sure to be precise in stirring—

"Darling." You jumped a little from your thoughts. When did Vil get so close to you? "You are standing there like a sprouted potato," he said, eyes peering at you. "Have you figured out where you went wrong?"

"I was getting there," you muttered, eyes glancing at his tail again. You wondered how soft it would be if you run your fingers across the fur. Can a cat's tail reach that level of fluff? Now you wonder about his ears...would they be as soft as they look? If you touch it—pet it—would he like it? Will he lean more to your touch like a cat asking for more affection? Would he—

You froze when your chin was lifted. Your entire face flared at the intimate gesture. "It seems you would rather focus elsewhere than pinpoint your misstep..." he purred. There was a hint of teasing in his tone. You swallowed. "I mean, this—" you gestured at him vaguely "—this is new." You lightly chuckled, trying to calm yourself down. You cannot even meet your boyfriend's eyes from how intense he is staring at you. Vil's fingers remained curled under your chin. Light, but noticeable.

"And what do you plan on doing?"

His fingers moved on from your chin and slid behind your neck to fiddle with the hem of your back collar. Now he is starting to act like a curious cat.

"W-Well if I plan on reversing the effects then that means I have to properly observe this result of the potion first," you mumbled, not fighting the smile that draws from your lips. Something about this scene seemed affectionate. Vil chuckled, and you did not miss the way his lips tugged into a slight smirk. "Is that what you are suggesting to do? To observe?"

You do not miss the flirtatious tone in his voice, either. "Don't make it sound weird, Vil..." you muttered, and he laughed at your probably pouty face. A laugh that is soft and quiet. His hand slid past your shoulder and he sat down on his chair. He leaned back with his legs crossed. His tail idly swayed back and forth behind him as his ears twitched with interest. His plum-purple eyes beckoned you, as do his inviting purr.

"Well, your assessment is not finished yet, yes? Go on. Observe me."

[3mmafr0st]

Hard to Hate Chapter 1

Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: not much surprisingly, light swearing, overuse of expository text cus its the first,  just the starts so eventual smut, angst, all the stops

Word Count:1269

Tag list: @intpeach If you wanna be added, ask! Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15,

Read the Russian translation Here

The charm required the utmost focus, if I didn’t, catastrophic backfire could have occurred. I strained heavily, as the egg in front of us had to be charmed just so as to not hurt our partners. I could hear chatter in the background but i worked hard to block it out. Focusing in back on the egg, I turned my wand in my hand slightly in order to get a little more comfortable. Lifting my shoulders slightly, I corrected my posture in order to prepare myself for the spell, but the sound got louder and launder, and I immediately recognized the annoying voices and laughs;

I slammed my wand down on the desk and spun around in my chair to face the source of the extremely irritating noise.

“Would you two kindly shut the hell up?” I couldn’t help but yell a little, the two had this way of constantly getting on my last nerve, and I couldn’t stand it, especially when it was taking away from my schoolwork.

“Why should we, Lestrange, too much fun and interesting conversation for you? Not enough muggle hating and murder?”

“No, Weasley, I unlike you, actually care about my future, and your ridiculous assumptions about my opinions based on my parents, are overdone at the least,” Flitwick caught ear of our conversation, and shut down the three of us before it could get any farther, and I couldn’t help but be grateful toward the professor. Although both of the twins were absolutely awful, at least George had some sort of a notion of common sense. Fred, on the other hand, was just an annoying, idiotic prick who thinks its funny to pick on the girl whose parents are in Azkaban. Not that it bothered me in the slightest that they were locked up, in fact, the only worry that I had, is the chance that they would ever get out. Up until the third year, the entire school was terrified of me. My only friends were books and the professors, as they had to at least try to treat me the same as every other student. Then I met Melody, my current project partner. She was a fellow Slytherin in my year that saw me on my own in the library and decided to come and talk to me, and we’ve been best friends ever since.

“Will you stop picking fights with those two? You know that’s only going to make the whole thing worse.”

“Yes, i know that, but I snapped. I really don’t want you getting sent to the hospital wing if this doesn’t end up working,” I huffed, anger and frustration flooding my nerves. I felt Melody’s hand on my back, as she tried to help me calm down, breathing deeply in and out. Once I was calm enough, we finally got around to perfecting the charm. I focused on the egg in front of me, finally being able to clear my mind. I said the incantation, not loud enough for everyone around me to hear, and tapped my wand against the egg twice. I give Melody a look of worry, as I hoped that this would work.

“It’s ok, Y/N, I trust you,” She gave me a comforting smile.

“I know you do, Mels, the problem comes in when I don’t trust myself. I closed my eyes, picking up the egg, and rolling it slightly in my hand. It now felt weightless, which was a good sign. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Melody said, the look of determination almost inappropriate for the situation. I held the egg above Mel’s head, and cracked it open, watching as the blue light flooded over her hair. Everything was going exactly as planned and I couldn’t help but get excited. Our class was supposed to be developing cosmetic charms on our own as a project, and today, we were to show Flitwick the results. The shiny blue light around Mel’s head dissipated and I sat back down.

“Okay, last step, now you just have to think of something, anything,” My eyes widen with excitement as I watched her face scrunch up slightly in concentration. All of a sudden, I watched as tendrils of hair began to harden into wood in the same shape as her hair before. Small cherry blossoms began to grow from the wooden tendrils. Dancing in my chair a little, I called Flitwick over. He made his way over to the two of us and we explained how we completed the charm, as well as showing him the completed product. I couldn’t help but swell with pride as our Outstanding was placed onto the paper. Turning to Mel, I could see a mirrored expression, the same as mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the idiots’ attempt at a cosmetic charm. The two had turned George into a horrific and monstrous thing, all teeth and eyes everywhere. I couldn’t help but look in abject horror at his ghastly appearance.

“What are you staring at, Lestrange, George and I too irresistible?’

“You know that cosmetic charms are supposed to make you look actually good, not like a troll and a doxy were brother and sister, and then had a kid?”

“Harsh words, Lestrange, I for one think I look gorgeous!” George said, though it was difficult to understand him through all of those teeth. I turned to Melody, miming me throwing up, which got a laugh out of her.

The two of us laughed and talked for the rest of the class, trying our best to ignore the redheaded blunder located behind us. Finally we were dismissed from class, and I got to leave. I was finally free of those two. Mel could see the change in my demeanor immediately once i left their presence.

“I never understood you hate those two so much.”

“I just do, they always try their best to ruin my day and I can’t stand it!”

She dropped the subject, knowing that it would only ruin my day more to talk about him, them. I was lucky, as this was the last class of the day, finally my absolute escape from all of my responsibilities and deep psychological issues, Quidditch practice. I walked Melody to the library, before heading down to the common room. I could feel the excitement coursing through me as I got dressed in my uniform and collected my broom. As I headed down the stairs, I saw none other than Draco Malfoy flagging me down in the common room. I smiled and ran over to him, tousling his hair and slinging my arm over his shoulder. The kid had been a friend of mine ever since i could remember, and when my parents got locked up, Narcissa practically demanded that the Malfoy’s took me in. Throughout our entire childhood we did practically everything together. Hell, I got to hold him after he was born, with help of course, he was only two after all. My cousin and I were more like brother and sister, if I was totally honest with myself.

“So, how was the new class?” I teased. Third year is when you started taking Care for Magical Creatures, and Draco had been complaining about it ever since he found out he had to take it.

“Hagrid says he’s showing us something interesting tomorrow, probably going to be a secret dragon or something,” He cringed at the thought, Draco never was a fan of animals. I let out a little laugh, and the two of us headed out, walking and talking all the way to the pitch.

[four-loose-screws]

An Interview with Mr. Toshiyuki Toyonaga about Fire Emblem (Claude‘s Japanese VA), Pg. 7

Chatting As Just a Player

As a player, how did you play “Three Houses?”

Toyonaga     When I started, I planned to complete two playthroughs, and on my first playthrough, I didn’t look up anything at all.  Because of that, I didn’t know things like how to scout the characters from the other classes. Someone told me “It seems like you’re missing something,” and I thought, then maybe I have to raise their support level? But even when I did that, I still couldn’t recruit them, so next I thought that maybe it had to do with stats, and did a lot of trial and error. I only realized that it might have something to do with weapon proficiency (skill levels) and support levels during the latter half of the Academy Phase. Because of all of that, I was filled with wishes that I had recruited this character and that character as I was thrust into the War Phase, and I was filled with regret during the three-way battle. (Chapter 17 and the battle at Gronder)

Because you encountered the other students as enemies, right?

Toyonaga     Yes. I remember thinking “Curse you!!” when Bernadetta attacked from the ballista because I didn’t scout her. Laughs. Having to fight the characters that I wanted to come to my side was really painful as I cleared the map. And so, that was how I played the game. I remember thinking it was a particularly pure playthrough. I also remember thinking “There’s so, so many of these!” as I collected the fallen items from around the monastery. When I think of the lost items, I remember stuff like the fish. Laughs. Fishing was fun too, and so was growing things in the greenhouse… though I forgot about it a lot, so there were some plants that didn’t grow. As you can guess, I ended up harvesting what I planted before the time skip five years later, after returning to Garreg Mach.

Which difficulty level did you choose?

Toyonaga     On my first playthrough, I chose normal classic. I play with the thought process that has followed me throughout the series, that I can’t let anyone die, so I have never once chosen casual mode.

We’d like to ask you about what impressions you were left with when you played normal mode.

Toyonaga     I thought that even normal was hard too! I progressed through the game without utilizing the free maps much at all. I only leveled up by completing the main maps and paralogues, so the War Phase was tough. There were many times where Claude and Byleth did nearly all of the work. I also gave Lysithea Lorenz’s Thyrsus Staff, giving her four range, so there were also a lot of situations where her magic did a lot of work even from far away. There ended up being a huge gap between Leonie and Ignatz’s levels and everyone else’s, and felt sorry about that as I continued through the game.

Did you make Lorenz a physical or a magic unit?

Toyonaga     I made Lorenz a Dark Knight. He was closer to a dark mage cavalry unit. Also, I remember thinking it was kinda cool that Grappler Raphael could attack four times in a row as he punched his enemies with all his might. Marianne fulfilled the role of the healer, and Hilda swung around her axe with great force. However, my Hilda’s defense didn’t grow very much, so I kept it in my mind that she couldn’t go out on many risky missions as I played.

What scenes did you like, or what scenes left an impression on you?

Toyonaga     I liked the mystery of the scenes where Byleth and Sothis spoke in the place that resembled a throne room, that was a sort of spirit world. I also really liked Seteth and Flayn’s conversations.

They’re all characters that are all similar to each other in some way!

Toyonaga     They are. When their allies learned of Flayn and Seteth’s true identities and relationship, a lot happened, and their allies changed a bit… Aside from that, because Claude is an archer, I also really liked being able to hear his conversations with Shamir, as they are both archers. It felt like she was a big sister.

The developers said that this game’s storytelling, and the creation of how noble society functions, among other aspects, were developed with Genealogy of the Holy War in mind, so what sort of impression did that have on you, as someone who has many memories of that game?

Toyonaga     There were many times where I thought that might be the case, that Three Houses was based on Genealogy, but as we talk about it now, I sort of think that might be why it was so easy for me to become fond of Three Houses… They both feature a type of war that doesn't really feel rewarding at all… And questions like “Who’s really behind all of this?” and “Is fighting this fight really what’s right?”, that deepened Genealogy's story, were things I also felt really strongly during the War Phase of Three Houses.

We agree! And you can even play the villain’s side of the story.

Toyonaga     About that, I thought that Hubert and Dedue’s roles were so unfair! They are considered the closest confidants to Edelgard and Dimitri respectively, existing as their right-hand men. The Golden Deer don’t have anyone in that position… Lorenz would never be someone like that.

Both     Laugh.

Toyonaga     Lorenz finally comes to support Claude during the War Phase, but the way that Hubert and Dedue are so devoted because they are right-hand men is really moving, and as men, it’s so cool! Oh, I mean “man,” as in “manly man...”* I could talk on and on like this for five minutes about just one character. Laughs.

(above) Hubert and Dedue both serve their lord without any concern for their own well-being. Also, Mr. Toyonaga also told us that he didn’t choose a different class from the Golden Deer even for his second playthrough, so we showed him scenes like how manly (!?) Hilda acts when she faces Claude as an enemy.

It feels weird to hear your own voice

Did your impression of Claude change after recording?

Toyonaga     My original impression of Claude was that his core personality cannot be changed, but aside from that, he gives off the mood that he has the flexibility to accept the opinions of many types of people… That sort of image. That part didn’t change the entire time we were recording, so after recording, I don’t think my thoughts changed then, either. I just thought from time to time that he says some pretty snobby things. Laughs.

He does. Laughs.

Toyonaga     He talks like that to the professors, to his fellow students in his class… ‘He… He can say nasty things like that?!’ I thought. But I think it’s still a good part about him, or not bad, at least.

So your image for performing Claude’s role was consistent from beginning to end. Does that mean that you didn’t have to do many retakes?

Toyonaga     We hardly did any retakes. I corrected myself on my own when I mispronounced town names that were difficult to say, and things like that, but aside from those physically difficult to perform lines, I don’t feel that we did that many retakes.

So how did you feel as a player when you heard Claude’s voice?

Toyonaga     This much is obvious, but when I first heard my own performance in a Fire Emblem game, it felt weird. And on top of that, I don’t know why exactly, but I wanted Claude to get married and have a paired ending, and I chose Professor Byleth. So I ended up confessing to myself! Laughs.

Laughs.

Toyonaga     I enjoyed the game in a way that only I could. But it was really weird the entire time. Hm, how do I put it… I wanted to express myself in the world of Fire Emblem, and wanted to confirm that I did a great job of that, so I listened really carefully to my own performance as I played the game.

That’s the point you discussed before, that you wanted a portrayal that made the game feel like it really happened in history, right?

Toyonaga     Yes. Was I able to express what I wanted how I wanted? I played the game with that thought in my head. ...And lastly, this is completely unrelated, but as I played the game, I was also thinking “Ingrid sure is really cute!” the entire time. Laughs.

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Study Buddies

For the Anon who requested : Hello! Do you think you could do a fic where the reader is part of Draco's gang and everything and the reader and hermione are both like super smart and competing for top student? They like have it out for each other and always try to beat the other in everything, but then a professor assigns them to a project together and now they have to work with each other and get along somehow? sorry, I just thought it was a cute enemies to lovers idea!

Hermione Granger x Reader

“Can anyone tell me how to cast the Blue Sparks Charm?” Professor Flitwick asked the class and two hands automatically shot into the air. 

“Ms. Granger was first.” You scowled darkly at the girl from your spot next to Draco, and he smirked slightly. 

“You need to be faster.” 

“Shut up.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Draco snickered. You glared at him, shaking your head before mumbling something under your breath, “Hm?” Draco prodded. 

“I said, you’re not helping.” You muttered, resting your head on your hand, continuing to glare at the back of the girl in the front of the classroom. It wasn’t fair! She was so smart and it all just came to her, and you had to work your butt off to be as smart as you were. Class was dismissed and you made sure she saw you glare as she and her friends left the classroom, before you and Draco exited as well, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. 

You walked some distance behind them, but close enough that they could hear you when you spoke next. 

“I bet she writes the answers on her arm before class,” You joked, your friends laughed, and you watched as the girl’s shoulders tensed up. 

“It’s the only way,” Crabbe agreed eagerly. 

“It’s because her smarts are the only thing she has,” Draco added, “When you look like that-” You elbowed Draco giving him the ‘too far’ look. You watched as the girl quickened her pace, practically running from you. You felt sorta bad about it, but not enough to do anything. 

A few weeks later you were back in Charms and Flitwick was explaining some project that he was assigning, you listened intently, taking notes like you always did. 

“I will be picking your partners based on skill level,” He announced and you hand faltered. Skill level? You glanced over at Draco. He was your best friend but he wasn’t the best at charms. Maybe he would be pairing good students with the bad ones? A girl could dream, but that dream was quickly squashed. 

“Malfoy and Tarzdan,” He started, you frowned. There goes your first choice. Flitwick kept listing names and you watched helplessly as kids got up and partnered up, and the students left dwindled. “Y/L/N and Granger,” Your eyes widened. Her head snapped back as she stared at you with wide eyes over her shoulder. /Fuck/. 

You got up, dragging your feet, going to stand beside the girls desk. She moved her bag and allowed you to sit, and you collapsed into the chair with a grunt. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, obviously annoyed by the predicament you found yourself in. 

“I want this done perfectly.” She stated, like you did anything less than perfect ever. You glowered. “So don’t take my grade from an O to a E, got it?” 

“Got it?” You mocked, rolling your eyes. “Listen princess,” You sat up slightly straighter, “I don’t half ass anything. I haven’t gotten less than an O on any assignment, I’m not starting now. I don’t like you.” She glared, “And I know you don’t like me,” She huffed and you smirked, “So let’s just get this done as fast and efficiently as possible so we can be done with this nonsense.” 

“Fine,” 

“That’s all you’ve got?” 

“What do you want me to say to your little speech?” She spat, “Yes ma’am?” You smirked again, unrolling a piece of parchment and grabbing a quill. 

“That will do, princess.” 

“Stop calling me that,” She demanded and you laughed, rolling your eyes openly at the girl. You worked in mostly silence for the duration of the class, each collecting your own set of notes, occasionally breaking the hostile silence to point out something before the other girl had the chance. 

“Meet me in the library, 8 pm. Don’t make me wait on you,” Hermione demanded when class ended, scooping up her stuff. You did the same, shrugging. 

“I’ll get there when I get there, thanks for the suggestion though.” Hermione glared at you openly, before turning on her heel and storming away. You walked over to Draco who looked like Christmas came early. 

“Having fun with your partner?” He teased, and you shook your head. 

“Nope, you?” Draco smirked widely. 

“I have a feeling we’ll be snogging more than studying,” He admitted and you shoved him playfully. 

“You’re a pig.” He laughed, nudging you back. You spent the rest of the day in the common room, dreading 8 pm. You didn’t want to take the walk all the way to the library, and you definitely didn’t want to spend your time with Hermione Granger. Finally the time to leave came, you suffered through several more jokes from Draco before finally leaving- you arrived 5 minutes late- just to piss her off. 

“You’re late.” It worked. 

“So sorry,” You drawled, “I got busy,” 

“Let’s just get to work,” She slammed the book open. Again you worked in silence, only occasionally broken by one of you showing the other something in your book. 

“That’s not useful,” Hermione snapped at you, pushing the book back towards you, you glared. 

“Says you,” You shoved it back towards her. “Just read the entire bloody paragraph before you open your big trap.” Hermione snatched the book from your hand, reading it over again before shrugging. 

“I guess.” You snorted, jotting down a few notes. 

“Whatever you say, princess.” She shut her own book and rubbed her eyes. 

“I told you not to call me that,” You grinned cheekily, leaning back in your chair with a small shrug. 

“I like it,” 

“You’re... You’re..”

“Brilliant, stunning, absolutely spectacular,” 

“A bitch,” She finished, packing her things away, “No way we’re finishing this tonight. Tomorrow at the same time?” You shrugged again, watching her stand and grab her bag. 

“Alright,” You agreed. 

“Goodnight.” She muttered, turning to stalk out of the library. 

“Night,” You muttered back once she was already gone. 

So the next evening you found yourself walking up to the same table in the library, 5 minutes late. 

“You’re late,” 

“I know,” You grinned, sitting down, she rolled her eyes at you, book already open to where she had left off the night before. 

“You’re-”

“A bitch?” You supplied, sitting down, pulling your own book out. “I know,”

“I was going to say impossible. That works too,” You laughed at that and Hermione managed to crack a small grin. You smiled smugly at that, maybe she wasn’t such a robot. After a few hours of working, with slightly more back and forth this time, Hermione rubbed her eyes and closed her book again. 

“Tomorrow same time?”

“Can’t, I have detention,” You shrugged, “And you’re not getting me here on a Friday night, sorry. Saturday after lunch?” You offered and she looked at you disapprovingly. “What?”

“Detention? For what?” You chuckled, packing up your bag. 

“Being late to potions,” You admitted.

“Are you always late?”

“I make it a habit.” You nodded, watching as Hermione slung her back over her shoulder, standing. “Have you ever had a detention, princess?”

“No.” She huffed indignantly. “You shouldn’t either, you’re far too... smart for that. I thought you took pride in your education.” 

“Sure I do, I like being the best,” You grinned, she glowered. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like to have fun too,”

“And being late is fun?” 

“Being late /because/ of fun,” You corrected, “It does happen, you’d know if you ever lightened up a bit.” Hermione shook her head at you, muttered her goodnight and once again you watched her back as she rushed from the room. Odd girl. 

Friday flew by, detention dragged on, and eventually Saturday rolled around. When Hermione got to your usual table in the library you were already sitting there, lounging back in the chair, playing with your quill. 

“You’re early,” She commented lightly as she sat down beside you at the table, you leaned back slightly further in the chair, letting it tilt back onto two legs. 

“Figured I was due for a change.” You joked and she chuckled slightly, taking her book out. 

“A good change,” She spoke softly, and you allowed your chair to fall back forward onto all four legs. 

“So where were we?” You went back to studying and writing out the parameters of your project, the written, oral, and wand portions. But you had an additional goal; making Hermione laugh. You were convinced she never laughed, she was too stuck up. You were doing a pretty spot on impression of Flitwick, and Hermione was smirking down at her book. 

“Why don't you laugh?” You asked, finally, poking the girls arm, she rubbed the spot like you had put something on her. 

“I laugh, why don’t you be funny?” She asked, and you let out a low chuckle. 

“See you can be funny,” You encouraged her and she blushed slightly. 

“Who said I couldn’t be?” She asked, glancing up at you. You held her gaze, Hermione quickly looked away, “Anyway, I think we did enough for today. See you Monday night? 8 pm?” She offered and you frowned slightly, nodding. Hermione stood up and went to walk away but you said her name, stopping her. 

“Why don’t you like me?” You asked, curiously, leaning forward slightly. She shuffled from foot to foot, looking anywhere but you. 

“You’re mean to me,” 

“I’m not that mean! And you didn’t like me before I started to tease you, don’t lie.” Hermione glanced at you, shrugging her shoulders before turning to leave, leaving the question hanging in the air. 

Two more nights of studying passed, you were almost finished the project and it looked like perfection in your humble opinion. Every night you spoke more and more, mostly you prodding the girl with questions.  She answered them with more and more words each time you asked, but you didn’t ask her again why she didn’t like you. 

Wednesday night you were wrapping up, putting the finishing touches on your work, making sure it was beyond O worthy. 

“Who do you usually study with?” Hermione asked suddenly and you shrugged, sitting back to look at the girl.

“Draco mostly, but he’s useless.” You admitted, “Less studying more... getting on my nerves.” She chuckled. 

“Ron and Harry are the same, I barely get work done with them, and I have to help them so much,” 

“Boys are stupid, there brains are full of flobberworms.” Shr laughed again and you grinned happily. 

“That is true.” She was quiet for a moment, playing with the sleeve of her jumper. 

“What’s up?” You pushed, and she shrugged. 

“I was just thinking, we do study well together. I bet everyone else isn’t even halfway done by now,” 

“I think that’s being generous,” You joked and she nodded seriously. 

“Maybe we should study again, together?” She said it like a question, and you considered her proposition for a minute. 

“We’re rivals. We both want to be the best.” You reminded her and she nodded again. 

“Yes, but we can, I don’t know, push each other. I...” She trailed off, clearing her throat, “Enjoy your company, I suppose. You’ve grown on me.”

“Like mold,” 

“Just like mold.” She agreed, laughing. 

“We can study together,” You decided, “It’ll help us both I think.” Hermione offered you a genuine smile, and you couldn’t help but to think she was pretty when she smiled. 

“Brilliant. Same time tomorrow?” 

“I’ll be here at 8:05,” You promised and she chuckled, rolling her eyes. 

“Of course you will,” She packed her pack and stood up, waving awkwardly at you. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night princess.” And for once she didn’t glare or scowl or tell you not to call her that, she just blushed slightly before turning and leaving the library. Maybe Hermione Granger wasn’t so bad.

[seungmvnnie]

Gryffindor!Jisung x Ravenclaw!Reader

word count; 1.5k word

warnings; suggestive kissing, female reader, bullet point au, kind of stereotypical but is based off my life experience as a ravenclaw, also not proof read yet 

As a Ravenclaw, you didn’t really know Jisung very for the first few years of your school career

you only really knew that he was friends with Renjun, the Ravenclaw that was two years above you - or at least friendly with him

you couldn’t really understand their relationship; on one hand Renjun often hung out with Jisung, Jeno and Mark the Gryffindor, Chenle the Hufflepuff and Jisung’s best friend, and Jaemin and Donghyuck who were both Slytherins and they seemed to be his only friends

but on the other hand, anytime you overheard Jisung asking to copy Renjun’s homework in charms class, Renjun would curse him out the entire time

he still let him copy off of him though

Renjun’s cross-house friendships were a topic of gossip amongst Ravenclaws

mostly because his friend group were undeniably incredibly attractive  ravenclaws usually kept to themselves as a whole, maybe mingling with the Hufflepuffs every now and then

just not the ‘main character syndrome’ Gryffindors and their declared enemies, the Slytherins

as a collective, your house just wanted to stay away from that mess

anyways

you had never really talked to Jisung before until Renjun had left school after your fifth year

Chenle and Jisung were the only two left out of their friend group, and they both looked incredibly lost without their elder counterparts

it was a terrible morning the day Jisung had spoken to you for the first time

you had underestimated how long it would take to complete the questions that your charms professor had set and had accidentally ended up staying up all night trying to complete them

you had downed as much coffee as you could and dragged yourself to your charms classroom, which you had first lesson when a voice called from behind you

“Hey! (y/l/n)!”

you spun in your seat, the most withering look on your face that you could manage because someone was forcing you to talk to them

your eyes met Park Jisung, who was sat in the seat behind you, looking at you with wide eyes

“What?” you had sighed tiredly

“I just wanted to know if you had done the homework, are - are you okay? you kind of look dead inside.”

You ignored his last comment

“What the hell makes you think I have it done?”

He had shrugged simply

“Ravenclaw.”

“That’s a gross stereotype, you know. Not all ravenclaws are super smart and hardworking, some don’t do the homework-”

You had trailed off as he raised an eyebrow, a small mischievous smirk growing on his face that made your face heat up

“Can I copy it?”

You stared at him for a moment. He had always been moderately good looking but this mischievous look on his face had your insides bubbling. He was usually quiet enough too, it was unusual for him to reach out and talk to people he didn’t know. You grabbed the parchment that lay on your desk and slamming it onto his

“You need to start doing your own homework, or you’re going to fail your N.E.W.T.S. I’m not letting you copy it again.”

That was a lie

You let him copy your homework for the next few months

it wasn’t your fault!

All he had to do was smile that smile at you and the homework was his to copy

every time you would give him a rant about how he’s never going to properly understand the material and at first he would respond with an, ‘oh well,’

but the oh wells gradually turned into, “Well I have you if I’m stuck.”

which gradually turned into, “And that’s why you love me.”

It wasn’t until the week before the valentine’s day hogsmeade trip that you had felt a tap on your shoulder

you were certain today that if he wanted the homework, he would bloody well have to do it himself

“Jisung Park, you are not getting it today. Don’t try me.”

You remained facing forward, refusing to turn around or else you might fall victim to his smile once more

“I did my homework by myself today.”

You spun round in shock

“We’ve been talking for what, 5 months now?” you had said

“yes.”

“and in those 5 months, we have had a charms lesson 3 times a week.”

“Yep.”

“I think that’s roughly, give or take, 60 lessons since the start of the year.”

“If you say so.”

“And not once, have you had your charms homework done.”

He simply looked at you

“Let me see it. I don’t believe you.”

He handed you the piece of parchment that sat in front on him and you turned around in your seat, comparing it with the homework that you had done

“Wow, you actually did it. None of the answers are right but you did it.”

“What do you mean none of the answers are right, I copied Chenle’s-”

He froze, and for the first time his face went red instead of yours as you smirked at him

“Busted. It’s all perfectly correct, by the way.”

He groaned as he took the parchment back from you and proceeded to slam his head off the desk

“Why did you pretend to do the homework?” You asked, not actually annoyed but simply curious

he had never been embarrassed about not having the homework done before

“I wanted to impress you so I could ask you to hogsmeade.”

He grumbled into the page that lay on his desk

Your eyes widened as your face went red

he wanted to ask you out??

you opened your mouth to respond but before you could, your professor had slammed the door open noisily, making you turn in your seat

the one lesson the whole year that your professor was on time

at the very end of the lesson you had turned around again

Jisung looked at you, awkwardly, and somewhat ashamed looking

“I’ll meet you in the great hall at 12 on Saturday. Don’t be late.”

You had left your seat before he could respond so you didn’t get to see the shocked look turn to awe and the wide smile that grew on his face

the hogsmeade trip went well for the most part

it was incredibly awkward at first, mostly because Chenle had taken it upon himself to go with you two, until his girlfriend dragged him away

you went to go get butter beer together and then he had brought you for a walk to the shrieking shack

it didn’t seem romantic at first, but it was the only quiet place in hogsmeade

you had been commenting on the history of the shack when you realized Jisung was staring at you

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“No. You’re just a massive nerd.”

You had hit his arm

“No, don’t be offended. It’s cute.”

“Oh.”

You both fell quiet, until he perked up again

“Can I- Can I kiss you?”

“You didn’t have to ask, you know.”

He had gently pressed his lips to yours sweetly, as if he was scared of hurting you

From then on you two began dating much to the curiosity of everyone in school

anyone outside of your charm class didn’t even know that you were friends with Jisung and now you two were dating?

although not many people were sure if you were dating or just really good friends

Jisung was not a very PDA person, so your relationship in public consisted of quietly conversing in the library or under a tree by the great lake

The most affection you showed in public was when you would be sat under the tree you loved to sit under with a book in your hand and Jisung’s head on your lap as you ran a hand through his hair

His favorite term of endearment for you was his little nerd

no matter what your height was

You called him a lanky dumbass in return so i mean not as affectionate-

He loves to make you laugh

especially when you’re stressed out about all the homework you procrastinated doing and needed to do last minute

In fact, in your entire 7 years at Hogwarts, you had only been kicked out of the library two times and they were both Jisung’s fault

Once was a week before your NEWT exams and you were basically in tears from stress

until Jisung decided it would be an amazing idea to tickle you until you were screaming with laughter

The second time was when he was being particularly needy and thought it a brilliant idea to take you behind one of the bookshelves, where he was sure no one would see you and attach his lips to yours

He was halfway through trailing kisses down your neck when Madam Pince, the librarian caught you

you were banned for a month

you never really forgave Jisung for that experience

overall, your relationship was very balanced

Jisung began to work at lot harder at basically everything in his life, not only work and was a lot less,,, spur of the moment

and you began to chill out more and appreciate life and he actually made you take some risks and be spontaneous

overall 10/10 couple goals :)

[moldisgoodforyou]

can we get jealous rafe? I looooove him

yes ma’am! warning: rude guy, cursing

_ 

For his spring semester, Rafe did something he’d never thought he would do and signed up for an intro to architecture course. He did it partly to learn more about Sophie’s major, partly because he wanted to impress her, and mainly because he had to fulfill a random elective.

It was probably the hardest class he’d ever taken in college.

He kept it a secret from Sophie for only three weeks, until his first test was approaching and he was totally lost on all the concepts that were supposedly explained during class. Reluctantly, he went to the test review that he knew she was in charge of, showed up early, and took a seat in the very back row. The lecture hall was fairly full of mainly freshman and Rafe already stuck out in his own class based on height alone, not to mention him having no previous architecture knowledge.

A boy next to him leaned over. “What section are you in?”

“Uh, the 2pm on Tuesday and Thursday. You?”

“I’m in the morning section, Flint’s my TA.” He grinned. “Lucky me. I’m Tom, by the way.”

“Yeah, lucky you.” Rafe deadpanned, not offering his name. He paused, then decided to test him. “What’s her first name? She’s not the TA for my section.”

“Sophia, I think. I don’t know, our professor makes us call her Miss Flint. I don’t mind.” Sophie came into the room at that moment, greeting the fairly-full classroom and busying herself with finding the review on the computer. Tom sent a knowing smirk to Rafe. “See what I mean?”

“I think it’s Sophie.” Rafe corrected, keeping his voice low.

“Oh, you know her?” Tom asked with clear interest, perking up a little.

“Ah...a little.”

“Think you can pass on her number? I tried buying her a drink at the bars last week but she wouldn’t let me.” Tom sat back in his seat before adding, “Kind of flirty though.”

“Dunno, if she’s not interested, then she’s not interested.” Rafe replied, gripping his pen hard enough that the clip broke in his hand. He cursed silently and grabbed another from his bag.

Sophie scanned the room and furrowed her brow as her eyes stopped on Rafe, tense in a seat at the back. She cleared her throat and began the test review, eyes flitting over to him every once in a while. To his credit, he kept quiet and furiously took notes, studiously avoiding her gaze. Tom didn’t, interjecting at random times to try and disprove her or make an entirely unsubtle comment that Sophie did her best to ignore.

When she finished she started taking individual questions, strolling around the room to help people. Tom raised his hand immediately to grab her attention. “Miss Flint, can I have help?” As Sophie came closer, she missed the wink he sent to Rafe. “Yeah, what’s up? It’s Tim, right?”

Rafe disguised his laugh as a cough, purposely avoiding Sophie’s glare. “It’s Tom.” The boy corrected. Sophie knelt next to Tom’s desk, purely to help him work through the problem, and he smirked. Once she walked away to help another student, Tom leaned over to Rafe. “She looks even prettier on her knees, don’t you think?”

Rafe shoved away from his seat and stood abruptly, towering over Tom. “Alright, that’s it. Come outside.”

“What?”

“I’m not asking.” He grabbed the back of Tom’s shirt to drag him out of his chair and Tom hurriedly stood, confused.

“Boys -” Sophie warned, the commotion drawing her attention. Tom raised his hands in defense and scurried toward the door, Rafe following. He let the door slam shut behind him and backed Tom against a wall, arms crossed. “What the fuck kind of comment was that?”

“Where is this coming from?”

“She’s your TA, and a damn good one at that. If you don’t learn how to respect women -”

“Dude, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me -”

“I’m absolutely not!” Rafe huffed. “You were being disrespectful the entire time. Think about how uncomfortable that must make her feel, not to mention it’s fucking gross -”

Sophie came out of the classroom holding Tom’s backpack as the rest of the students filed out, their argument drawing attention. “Is there a problem here?”

Rafe glared at Tom. “I don’t know, is there a problem, Tim?”

“I - uh - no, Sophie - er, Miss Flint. I’m sorry.”

She looked confused. “For what?”

“I...um.....”

When she realized Rafe’s expression was one meant to kill, she shook her head and handed his backpack to Tom. “It’s fine. Session’s over, you can go. Rafe? A word?” Rafe didn’t move a muscle until Tom skittered away with another muttered apology, then he followed Sophie back into the classroom, still fuming.

“Soph - angel -” He started, regretting the new pet name as soon as it rolled off his tongue.

She turned red and did her best to ignore it, although she was melting inside. “What the fuck was that about?”

He gaped, mistaking her blush for anger. “Hold up, you’re mad at me?” Sophie threw her hands up, exasperated. “Yes! You’re disrupting my class, I don’t even know why, and you’re not even in it! This is for students only!”

“He was being rude! Soph, if you knew what he was saying about you...” He set his jaw, fists still clenched.

“I can handle myself, Cameron, I don’t need you showing up just to keep an eye on me.” She shot him a glare, then grabbed his hand and uncurled his fingers. “Quit looking like you’re going to fight me.”

He relaxed some at her touch, letting out a steady breath. “Sorry. Just - he was being a fucking asshole.”

“And you dragged him out of his chair like you were going to fling him across the room or something.”

“Should have.” He muttered under his breath, not meeting her eye.

“Yeah, whatever. Do you have an explanation for you just showing up? This isn’t even remotely your major.” She stalked toward the back of the classroom, going for his notebook. Rafe scrambled to beat her and grabbed it just before she could, holding it out of her reach. Sophie jumped for it, unsuccessful. “Rafe!”

“No! I don’t want to let you look - fuck!”

She had elbowed his stomach just enough so he’d double over and grabbed the notebook out of his hand. She frowned as she scanned over the notes, then flipped through a few pages. “You actually paid attention?”

“Christ, woman, you’re bony.” He wheezed dramatically, holding his side. She rolled her eyes and gestured at the notebook. “You’re fine. Explain yourself.”

“Fine.” He snatched it back. “I needed another elective and figured I’d learn about what you’re doing. But this is fucking hard, and I’m a junior about to fail my first test in a freshman intro course.” He huffed as he finished the sentence, ears going a little red.

Sophie grinned. “Were you embarrassed? Rafe, I could have been teaching you this whole time.”

“Didn’t wanna look stupid.” He mumbled.

“C’mere, idiot.” She tugged the front of his shirt to pull him down to her level, giving him a quick kiss. “I won’t let you fail.”

He laughed quietly against her lips and rested his forehead against hers. “Thank god, this class is the hardest thing I’ve ever taken. I knew you were smart, but holy hell.”

She beamed. “Call me angel again and I’m sure we can work out a deal.”

Rafe grinned, trailing his hands down to her waist. “Yeah, you like that? What kind of deal?”

She laughed and gently pushed him away. “Let’s go discuss at home.”

[eintsein]

Impostor Syndrome: What it is and how to deal with it

There may be times when you feel like a fraud, like at any moment people will find out that you have no clue what you’re doing and you don’t deserve any of your achievements. You think that you’re unworthy of praise, that you only succeeded out of luck.

This is known as Impostor Syndrome, and around 70% of people have struggled with it in their lives. The problem arises when high achievers fail to internalize their success, i.e. when you attribute your success not to your own abilities but rather to external factors.

Some say that impostor syndrome could be linked to traits like anxiety or neuroticism. Impostor syndrome has also been commonly attributed to behavioral causes like childhood experiences, e.g. being labeled as “the smart one” or “the talented one”.

Another huge factor is how well you think you fit into a certain group, e.g. impostor syndrome is common among people of a racial/ethnic/cultural minority, women in STEM, and international students at US universities.

Dr. Pauline R. Clance was the first to design a scale to measure impostor syndrome based on six factors

The impostor cycle, where someone is given an achievement-related task and they either (a) overprepare or (b) procrastinate

The need to be special/the best

Superhuman characteristics

Fear of failure

Denial of ability and discounting praise

Feeling fear and guilt about success

There are different types of impostors, as categorized by Dr. Valerie Young, an expert on impostor syndrome (note that these categories aren’t mutually exclusive):

I’ve personally dealt with the first two types. I’m fairly certain I can attribute being ‘the genius’ to childhood/adolescent circumstance: I’ve been known as ‘the smart one’ throughout elementary school and high school - every time I made a mistake, it was met with a chorus of ‘wahh jo made a mistake...’ Even last month when I had a mini-reunion with some of my high school friends, one of them said something along the lines of “I like when Jo makes mistakes because it reminds me that she’s human, too.” I can definitely say I’ve overcome that now because, you know, college - everyone’s as smart or smarter than you and works pretty hard.

Being ‘the expert’ is still something I’m still trying to overcome. Last spring when I was applying to internships, I only dared to apply to those where I met 100% of the requirements. I’ve been coding for like 4 years but I constantly think I’m incompetent. It once got up to the point where I literally took 3 similar courses to assure myself that I actually do know how to do full-stack web programming. I still struggle to draw the line between relearning something because I don’t think I really know it, versus learning something for the expansion of knowledge.

How do I deal with it?

Firstly acknowledge that you have impostor-related thoughts Awareness is the first step to changing how you think and how you act.

How does impostor syndrome look like in a school/college setting? Examples include

You refrain from asking questions because you think other students/TAs/the professor will think you’re dumb;

You don’t respond to questions even though you kind of know the answer but you always think your answers aren’t right enough or that they’re simply wrong;

You don’t participate in discussions because you feel that you won’t add any value; or

You prevent yourself from having an opinion because you feel like you have no right to have one.

Reframe your thoughts

Think of their possible effects Do these thoughts help or hinder me? Will anything useful come out of thinking this? Acknowledge that not speaking up may mean slowing your team down or depriving your classmates of potentially valuable insights.

Separate fact from feeling Are they factual or simply a misinterpretation of my environment?

Differentiate feelings of fraudulence from feeling like an outsider Does my work show that I’m incompetent or is the fact that I’m the only female in a team of males/POC in a team of Caucasians make me think I’m inferior?

Stop comparing yourself to other people You might think something along the lines of “there are already so many people who can do what I do but so much better, so what’s the point in even trying?” However, remember that these people were once where you were, and taking even the smallest of actions could help you get to where they are.

Be more forgiving with yourself

Rethink perfection Not everything has to be perfect. Even if you have high standards, not achieving those standards doesn’t make you any less worthy.

Reframe mistakes and identify areas of improvement It’s okay to be wrong or not to know everything. Think of mistakes as learning opportunities and indicators of gaps in your knowledge/understanding of something, as opposed to a negative measure of your self-worth. Being wrong doesn’t mean you’re fake; it just means you have more to learn.

For example, previously I would only answer a question in class if I was at least 90% sure that was the correct answer. That’s a high threshold, and I don’t think it’s very useful for helping me learn and grow. Over the course of a year, I’ve managed to lower that down to I’d say around 60% (50% with coffee lmao).

Collect positive experience

Remember and reflect on praises Think about the efforts you exerted to help you achieve something and the positive responses you garnered when you finally achieved it. Remind yourself of the words of encouragement other people have told you, no matter how small. You could even keep a folder/document/journal to look back on when you feel like a fraud.

Heck, sometimes I feel like my posts aren’t useful or my designs are terrible, but then you guys tell me such kind things and I think, maybe I’m not as bad as I thought.

However, while it’s good to remember the good words people have said, don’t work just for the sake of praise. Focus on the value of the work itself and not the validation that comes from it.

Focus on providing value

Focus on what you can say Instead of thinking about what you don’t know, focus on what you do know and what you can say. Even if what you say isn’t entirely correct or relevant, it’ll get others around you thinking.

Remind yourself that holding back is like robbing the world of your ideas There’s always some value in your words, even if you don’t initially think so. How that value affects the world or other people may differ. For example, when you put forward an idea/thought in a discussion, it could be that

If there were parts that were incorrect, other people might have had the same misconception and are more than happy for the clarification;

Again, if there were parts that weren’t correct, they might not have had the same misconception but now realize that there is a way in which the subject can be misinterpreted, thus allowing them to have a more comprehensive understanding of the subject; and/or

It’ll stimulate further thinking and discussion and raise more questions, especially if other people wouldn’t normally think what you just thought. Then other people could bounce off your idea and form an equally great one.

Take action You won’t feel as much of a fraud if you’re doing something that brings you a little closer to achieving your goals or that adds value to your work.

However, be careful not to overwork yourself. Every time you start doing something, pause and think: is this really important to my progress or am I just trying to prove myself?

Instead of working on too many things, do something outside your comfort zone each day no matter how small. Once you do this, focus on quality (your growth) instead of quantity (the number of things you do).

Also, for those of you who fall into the ‘expert’ category, this also means practicing just-in-time learning, i.e. learning things when you need it, not just to comfort yourself.

I hope that was helpful, and please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions/comments/suggestions :)

[dog-day-morning]

THE TRUTH AND SHAKA ZULU WILL KILL YOU

In a once-popular commercial for Calgon detergent in the 1970s, a curious housewife probes the Chinese owner of the local laundry for the answer to one of the world’s eternal mysteries: “How do you get shirts so clean, Mr. Lee?” After peering over his shoulder (so as to be sure that his not-so-discreet wife isn’t standing near) the man turns back around, raises a finger to his lips and says through a smile, “Ancient Chinese secret!”

While the answer to the question posed to the laundry owner by the woman was a closely guarded secret — one that his sweet, no-nonsense wife happily ruined — it was neither ancient nor even Chinese in origin. But the TV spot famously tapped into one of the most enduring legends about the country whose Ming Dynasty rulers had a 16-to-26 foot wall built around it: the age-old traditions of secrecy.

And, like Vegas, what happened in China very often stayed in China, just get the hell out of Alkebulan!!! But if you insist on staying, you and your barbarian invader horde of Ghengis Khan, wannabe warlords can take that beatdown like Hirihito of Japan. You can indulge in Alkebulan's rich resources for a season or get on a junk boat and go back to China and rebuild your own country. If you stay in the Motherland you'll perish🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿. As the saying goes, s**t happens. Wash ya ass. Please, continue reading… my screwed up mind !!!

Take the Black Chinese [Moabites] who once made up the entire population of China prior to Esau's attempt at reclaiming the birthright God decreed would be Jacob's while in the womb through forced miscegenation "Raping of indigenous women." Do not be confused or mislead by this post. My research was sketchy to say the least. The portion of the population before China’s modern era does not register any indigenous Moabites, for example. The fact that you’ve never heard of them proves the point. Here comes the BS. But don’t worry. You’re not alone. China has some 1.3 billion people and nearly all are just as in the dark about them. Well, either that or a billion people all swore to never-ever-never air any [ahem] ‘clean laundry’ about black folks formerly having a place in China’s allegedly homogeneous society. That's a bunch of made up monkey s**t. Frankly, even an ancient culture with the bragging rights to the longest continually recorded history, another myth, is bound to miss a few things like a heart, and some effing genomes. The former presence — up until sometime in the 20th century — of Black people in pre-modern China is one of them. Fortunately, though, old photos taken throughout China around the advent of photography can help us to fill in today some of what the historians missed on purpose. I can't believe I'm posting this. 👎🏿👎🏿👎🏿👎🏿 China’s Qing Dynasty, established by the Manchu people who ruled from 1644–1912, is described as having been a vast multicultural empire. But it appears multicultural could also be a more pleasant euphemism for multiracial. You people are like dogs, stop eating them?! Nothing illustrates this better than the Black and white photos taken by visitors from Europe in the mid-to-late 1800s. Really?!! John Thomson, an Irish photographer was one of the first to capture images that reveal a surprisingly more diverse makeup of then-contemporary China. In one of the most stunning photos taken by Thomson displayed above, six women dine together in a courtyard. Captioned “Manchu ladies at a meal,” the picture was taken in 1869 in the city of Peking (now Beijing). Seated at the center of the photo are two women: on the right sits a typical high class Manchu and on the left sits a smiling Black woman — who could easily pass as the mother of the RZA, the GZA, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, or any other member of the Wu-Tang Clan.

Apart from the physical differences in the women (including the two who were likely seated, but stood for the picture), what’s also remarkable is that when Thomson writes about them, he makes no distinctions — though there were both racial and class differences; some of them were most assuredly attendants or maids. But in the view of Thomson, they were all simply Manchu ladies sharing a meal on a day when he sought interesting subjects to photograph. I saw the photographs. The darker ones were inherently claimed to be lower case workers or servants, while the ones who looked like Lucy Liu were considered affluent, and well off. These racial disparities that evolved from hell are a sad reminder to a wound that won't stop bleeding because of man's inability to stop giving in to his base emotions. I plead cray cray, and insanity. Jacob, they would rather burn in hell for an eternity than let us live in peace for a day. God is coming back for Israel not the Christian Church that has been corrupted by the Evangelical, right wing, nut jobs.

1 Maccabees 3:48

And laid open the book of the law, wherein the heathen had sought to paint the likeness of their images.

If you study history, and read the Bible, you'll see how religion has been used to divide God's people which they're not. Some gentiles will walk into New Jerusalem, the vast majority of them won't. The Bible has been tampered with by people who are shepherds for the Devil. The Catholic Church is Satanic no matter how you cut it. The cathedral of Notre Dame had gargoyles mounted atop the edifice looking over the city of Paris, France. Do you find this to be a bit of a double minded mentality or a slap of defiance in God's face. What god do you worship? We want to know the truth from God. This world can't be trusted with an anorexic T-Rex. You'd call it a crackhead and dump him in the Labrea tar pits unless it was a female, at that point you would attempt to crossbreed it with a Chihuahua, and hope to domesticate this new animal which has disaster written all over his I'm shaking cause I need a fix quick, petrified ass. When Vatican City is destroyed let that be a warning from God to those who still have a sliver of faith in God, get a relationship with Him. Jacob, this writing piece reveals their unwillingness, and froward hearted, lack of sensibility by not telling the whole truth. Instead they give us a revised version of history that wasn't. They have been our teachers for the last 500yrs when we were there's previous. Either you learn from your mistakes or continue to repeat them.

Zechariah 8:23

Thus saith the Lord of hosts; In those days it shall come to pass, that ten men shall take hold out of all languages of the nations, even shall take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew, saying, We will go with you: for we have heard that God is with you.

If you hate being rebuked by a Black professor with a tenure ship, you'll hate being corrected by a Black child who has 5 degrees including a specialist in biochemical, ecological science, and psychology. You're ashamed because you're proud. There were great African kingdoms that educated the anglo European that's been shrouded in history. The book of Maccabees says the people who have mislead, and lied to us are as knowledgeable as a 13yr old using crib notes. I'm nuttier than a can of Planters, the truth is in you Jacob. Utilize the authority given to you. You will have to teach them as it was in the past. Everything from Bible scriptures, to aerospace, science engineering. The educational system is designed to hold back Black children, but the 3 people with the highest IQs in the world at the time was a 10yr old Black male, an 2 Black females under the age of 8. They were the youngest members of Mensa ever. This was about 4yrs ago. You can't stop God's anointing from glowing and glorifying Him and His people. Read the rest of this article and lose your mind. Its a nauseating and frustrating read. The truth will set you free. It ain't in these hood boogers

Written accounts by early Chinese historians tell us that the Tonkin region and its adjacent areas were once a hotbed of various non-Han Chinese peoples, including those from whom the Lao Cai girl descends. But with the southward advance of the Han Chinese, such groups were pushed even further south, or gradually assimilated into the dominant population. Historian Thant Myint-U writes in “Where China Meets India” that during the 9th century, the Chinese ethnographer Fan Cho compiled the Man Shu, or “Book of the Southern Barbarians.” Fan Cho describes there the varied peoples living in and around Yunnan. Included among them were the Wu-man or ‘Black southern barbarians,’ so-called for their dark complexions. And ironically, the French author of the Lao Cai photo had the image annotated with the Chinese word “Man,” and — sadly — with the Vietnamese “Xa” (or Kha), signifying servant or slave.

With this photo of a mother and her two children by John Thomson, taken on the streets of Peking (now Beijing), something finally clicked. For reasons that won’t be detailed here (as it would take far too long to explain) more than a decade of research into the peopling of Asia seemed to suggest that any black Chinese still living in the age of photography would likely all be found in southernmost China. Black Moabites still coexist in China to this day. This is a class study in you must be dumber than an incubator.

In his 1902 book The Boxer Uprising, American photographer James Ricalton includes this photo of several dozen men, many of them likely to be executed the next day for their part in the Boxer Rebellion. The latter was a bloody, anti-foreign and anti-Christian uprising that took place between 1899 and 1901; the 2006 Jet Li film Fearless was inspired by events that took place in the aftermath of the rebellion. The same is also true of the 1971 Bruce Lee film Fist of Fury. No actors in the aforementioned films — nor any other martial arts films set in pre-modern China — ever had actors resembling the non-Han Chinese mixed in above. About them, the racist Ricalton writes:

“This is truly a dusky and unattractive brood. One would scarcely expect to find natives of Borneo or the Fiji Islands more barbarous in appearance; and it is well known that a great proportion of the Boxer organization is of this sort; indeed, how dark-skinned, how ill-clad, how lacking in intelligence, how dull, morose, miserable and vicious they appear!” I'm willing to bet you 5 million in Bitcoin that I don't have, a lifetime supply of opium, and 2 happy ending massages daily that this bougie French bastard is rotting in hell praying to white Jesus that Rumiel won't screw him up the wahoo tonight. Tickle his sack!!! Like Thomas Cromwell the powers that be went to great lengths to cover this history in ChinaTown. You can't hide the truth from a people that's tired of being dictated to, oppressed, lied on, abused and persecuted by everybody, and discredited for the contributions they've made to this damnable planet. As previously stated we don't want crumbs [reparations] we want the whole planet Black before you, and the I hate n**gers brigade showed up, that includes Moo Goo Gai Pan. As soon as his Chicken fried, Bat Man eating, pancaked backside came along, and gained some freedoms, he started emulating his zaddy, he became drunk with xenophobia like the rest. If you hate my commentary tell ya boy Biden or his Amerikkka is not a racist country VP, Kamala Harris. She's next in line to preside as Pontius Pilate over this damnation unless Biden loses his dementia. Its a joke, think or buy a vowel. If that doesn't work, swap some Budha, and kiss Mr. Nasty bye bye.

[f1uffy-turtle]

Soul Bound Chapter 1: The Heart's Desire

Okay, I’ll give it one more try. Luz thought to herself.

She had been practicing on this particular glyph for almost the entire school period that she was afraid to admit that she wasn’t paying attention. Does time always move faster whenever you’re trying to figure something out? That question didn’t seem too important to her. She drew a few wavy lines on her sheet of paper, hoping that it would make some semblance of sense when it came to the glyph itself. She looked around and tapped on the torn up notepad for the umpteenth time. There was a small flicker coming from the lines, only for the page to disintegrate in an instant.

Pedazo de mérida! Jodete estupido papel!

Luz let out a heavy sigh and set her pencil down. Her ears went a little bit red. In theory, if it were to work, someone would be able to hear that. It was embarrassing enough that she had to explain that she was speaking in a different language, but it would be even more embarrassing for her to explain that she was basically cursing the glyphs that didn’t even work. She looked up towards the professor at the front of the class.

He didn’t seem to be eye-catching in the slightest; she just didn’t have anywhere else to look. If the other abominations teacher was here, she would just be looking at the abomination that was carrying the stout, cloven-foot man, wondering how he was able to create an abomination in ways that she couldn’t. She had to use separate ingredients for hers due to the human’s lack of a bile-sac like witches on the Boiling Isles had developed. Her mind wandered over to that, wondering how they could have evolved. I mean, they did have access to the human realm before, surely there must have been some way they have crossed paths in the past and the ancient Wild Witches could have learned to carry magic on their own.

Her heart sank. She relayed that thought again in her head; the human realm.

It had been two weeks since she had given up the portal to Emperor Belos and destroyed it so he wouldn’t have a chance to use it for whatever he had planned. He must have wanted it badly if he harassed Eda so long for it. Had tried to petrify her just for the chance that he could use it. Had lied to Lilith just so he could get Eda in his grasp just to cull the last known Wild Witch on the Boiling Isles.

She’d given up her only way back home. She’d given up the chance to ever see her mom again. The thought had never really sunk in just yet. She just wanted to let her know that she was okay.

“Ms. Noceda?”

“Er... yes, sir?!” Luz jolted out of her trance and knocked the contents of her desk into the air, reaching out to catch them, only to end up on the floor. The teacher snatched the notepad and the pencil from the air in one swift motion. People in the class stifled a chuckle or two and Luz couldn’t help but feel her face burning.

Yes sir? Really, Luz?

She picked herself up and took the notepad and pencil that he was holding out, trying to avoid making eye contact with him. He gave a small snicker himself.

“Apologies, Luz. I didn’t mean to startle you while you were daydreaming, however this is a class and you are here to learn, correct?”

Luz’s brow started to furrow. Of course she was here to learn. Why else would she have snuck in once or twice with Willow and Gus just to find out what a magic school was like? Why else would she have begged Eda time and time again to get her to enroll and possibly risk getting thrown in the Conformitorium again for being a wild witch out and about in the Isles? They were lucky that Principal Bump never really was too much of a stickler for Belos’ laws and even more lucky that Luz had nudged him with the help of the Detention Track kids to allow the students to pick more than one track when learning at Hexside.

“Of course I am.” She glowered at him as she crossed her arms over themselves; almost rivaling the smug grin that the substitute had plastered over his face, or at least what parts of his face that she could see. Not only did he practically tower over the teenager, but he was wearing a steely-blue scarf over the lower half of his face and spectacles that glared in the daylight that showered inside the classroom.

The substitute turned back towards the chalkboard. “Then tell me, Ms. Noceda, if you were paying attention, then clearly you can tell me what ingredients a witch would use to make an abomination’s strength rival that of one in the Construction Coven with a Power Glyph attached to the caster?”

“You can’t; the power of an abomination matches the strength of the caster combined with the ingredients that make it up. The witches in the Construction Coven can’t make them because their own power is locked off from making abominations of their own. You could use a Griffin’s egg as a base, shell and all, to bind the other ingredients together; the starch of some Screaming Brorne would be able to work it into a plaster-esque paste with the other fillers such as gravel and mold them around an armature to work around with, this can be made of anything from the most fragile of wooden branches to a steel pole. Once the abomination is molded, we then cast the consciousness spell to, of course, give it consciousness and the armature will dissolve with the structural integrity intact.”

Sweat beaded from her temple, she was so lucky that she had taken theater, or at least attempted to, when she was younger, or else she would have not been able to memorize all of that from her studies with Amity. Even then, she was surprised she even retained all that information. The substitute shot a glare at the human and shut the textbook that he was reading over with a snap.

“Mighty impressive Ms. Noceda, almost as if you wrote the textbook yourself. However, I’m not allowed to deduct points for any blatant plagiarism, yet I can clearly see that you haven’t even brought your textbook this time. You have a keen mind indeed, human.”

The school bell then screamed and Luz let out an exhausted breath that she didn’t even think that she was holding in. That was surprisingly tense. She could feel her chest loosen up once she heard that sound that had become so familiar – as grating as it was – over the past month. Everything began to tense up again as she felt a tug on her shoulder and she spun around, raising her arms up in a karate-chop stance. She lowered them as she saw Amity backing away from her, clearly startled by her sudden movement. They both laughed. The substitute barked some orders as everybody started pooling out of the classroom, but Luz didn’t hear any of it. She was honestly looking forward to the rest of the day.

~~~

“So what was up with Mr. Almade getting in your face like that?” Amity inquired this after they had walked down the hallway for some time. They were headed towards the toothy lockers that lined the walls of the inner corridors of the campus. She had kept the question to herself for quite some time because she felt the air grow heavy around the two as he leered over her. It was almost creepy in a way and she wanted absolutely none of that.

“Ugh! I don’t know! Honestly, he’s such a big jerk, I don’t get why they picked him to replace Mr. Hengemyr. At least he was a lot nicer… and had a better sense of humor.”

Amity chuckled as she remembered “Like that one time he laughed at your a-mom-ination joke?”

“Exactly!” Luz shouted louder than she had intended, but from the look on her face, she didn’t seem to care at this point.

“Well, clearly, he might like you.”

Luz gasped “How dare you, Ms. Blight! I am horribly flabbergasted by your insinuation!” She put on the most over-the-top posh voice that she could muster and Amity laughed so hard that she started blushing.

“You know, with acting like that, it was a wonder that he didn’t figure out that you were posing as an abomination before I did.”

“And you decided the best way to handle that was to have Principal Bump dissect me.”

Luz laughed at the comment she made, but Amity couldn’t help but feel her heart sink a little. She was glad that at least Luz could laugh about it now. That was basically how she met her, so she was glad that they have at least mended their friendship up to that point. If it wasn’t for Luz’s persistence, Amity wouldn’t have thought about how she treated the other people around her. How she treated Willow, how her parents had forced her to be around bullies such as Boscha and her clique just because they were friends with their parents. It rang in her head again.

Good children don’t squabble, dear.

Blights only associate with the strongest of witchlings.

Blight.

The more and more she thought about it, the more and more she hated it. Not because of how it sounded, but because of the expectations put on her. How they wanted her in the Emperor’s Coven so badly that Amity even called it “Her Future.” How they wanted Amity to uphold the social reputation of the Blight family just so she could look like the perfect decoration set aside the two “perfect” parents and her two older siblings who always managed to get away with whatever shenanigans that they thought up. In retrospect, they are teenagers. She always had to be the one who was the more mature sibling in the household, despite being the youngest.

Amity cracked a smile at the human, the one person who had shown her the light.

Luz.

I wonder if it means “light” in her language.

My beautiful, little light.

“Hey, Amity!” Skara shouted so loudly next to the green-haired witch’s ear that she fell over, scrambling to back away before seeing the bard-track witch.

“Oh, hey! Skara! I thought you would be with Boscha?”

“No, she started getting all nutty after her Grudgby match with Willow. I mean, I know that she hates her. Whoo! Never mind that, hate is too strong of a word… um… dislikes her, but that don’t mean that she has to get up in our faces about it, you know?”

Luz nodded. “You said it.”

Skara looked over at the human and beamed. “Oh hey, human!” She said as she waved her hands excitedly.

“It’s Luz.” Amity and Luz said in unison.

“Oh! Sorry, Boscha keeps on calling you that, so I didn’t have anything else to really call you.” She let out a nervous laugh.

Luz cackled at the nervous wreck. “It’s all good, I get it.”

She scratched at Amity’s locker and its gaping mouth opened, its tongue sticking out laying out an array of other textbooks that the green-haired witch placed her abomination textbook next to. The demon scooped up the textbooks and rolled its tongue back into its toothy maw, closing it up before giving a hearty belch. Luz had always been so fascinated at all the wacky demons that replaced ordinary items in The Boiling Isles.

Skara looked around the pair for a second, squinting. “Have you guys seen Willow around at all?”

Luz’s eyes widened for a moment. “Not since Botany, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

Skara looked away from the human, her cheeks growing flush. “No reason, it’s just she’s all cool and I wanted to get away from Boscha for a bit and maybe work on that project that we’ve been assigned in Fundamentals of Songwriting -.”

Luz gasped. “YOU’RE GOING TO WRITE A LOVE SONG FOR WILLOW!”

If Skara wasn’t already flustered thinking about hanging out with Willow, she definitely was now that the human even suggested, let alone point out that she had a crush on the plant witch. “It’s not a love song; I just wanted to hang out with her is all. She’s just… nicer. She actually looks out for her friends. That’s something I never really got.” She sighed.

“I mean it’s not like I don’t have an abundance of friends, but it would at least be nice to actually know that I’m cared for or whatever, you know?”

Amity’s heart sank as Skara said that. Yeah, both of them have been a part of Boscha’s clique, but she was always the one who got the brunt end of everything. If it wasn’t for her natural charisma and the fact that her parents were as far up the ladder as theirs were, she probably wouldn’t have been accepted, let alone be as popular as she was. Maybe if she were nicer to her, things would have turned out differently for the bard.

“Well, hey. Regardless, we’ll be looking out for you.” Luz reassured the witch as she gave her a small smile. Skara returned the gesture and took in a deep breath.

“If that’s the case then, I’ll continue looking. It’s been nice seeing you guys.”

Luz and Amity returned the gesture as the bard disappeared into the hallway. Once she was out of sight, Amity let out a small chuckle.

“What?”

“A love song? Yeah, she’s definitely got a crush on Willow.”

“Oh yeah, she has one big time. Though, it’s not exactly a love song. It’s more of a calming spell that you have to write and you have to write it with the intent of performing it to someone that you’re really close to.”

“Okay, but still if she were to write it for Willow, they aren’t exactly close. And plus, didn’t it not work out between her and that one guy she asked to Grom?”

Luz shrugged her shoulders. “I honestly wouldn’t know anything about that. I’m not exactly in-the-know about this sort of stuff. Hey, speaking of, have you had any progress on who you wanted to ask out to Grom?”

Amity turned her face away as she felt it grow warm and she grabbed at her shoulder. How was she supposed to tell her that she wanted to ask Luz out? That if it wasn’t for the fact that she was chosen as Grom Queen to fight Grometheus, The Fear Bringer and Luz insisting that she would fight for her in her stead, then she would have actually given that note to her. Who was she kidding, no she wouldn’t. Grom read her fears and tore up the note in front of her. All while looking like the human. Not resembling exactly what she looked like. Her messy, short brown hair; her hazel eyes; her brown lips that she had wanted to kiss so hard for over the past month now. Grom only looked like an amorphous silhouette compared to the actual human and nothing like what shape it took for Luz's fear. The shape of her mother.

She never bothered to ask the human about it. She didn’t want to pry. What would she think if she pried into something like that and then asked her out once she actually had the courage? Would she even forgive her? Would she forgive her for all the stuff that she has done to the human in the past? She was lucky that Luz even pried into her heart just to be friends with her, given that it was definitely unconventional since she tried to do it by hanging out with Edric and Emira first and they tried to use Luz just so they can nab her diary. She doesn’t deserve that, but maybe she should thank her siblings for bringing her into her life. No. They would endlessly tease her for it. Amity gave a sigh.

“No. Not yet.”

Luz gave a supporting smile that made Amity’s heart feel like it was about to burst out of her chest. “Well, I hope whoever it is, they would say yes.”

I know I would.

That’s what Amity wanted so desperately for the human to say to her. It felt like it would have come so easily through her lips. Luz took her hand and she couldn’t help but return the smile that she was given. If only she knew that all she wanted was to be in her arms at that exact moment.

“Maybe I could help you write a song for them!”

Amity’s vision flickered back into focus as she tried to process what the human said. “Wait, wait. Are you sure? I’m not sure if you noticed, Luz, but I’m not in the bard track. And even then, I’m not all that musically gifted.”

That last sentence was a lie. Her mother had bought a grand piano for the servants to play about ten years ago and she would sneak in the music room while they were playing to play with them. Agreus, the particular bard that they hired for the music room along with their troupe was glad to teach her all they knew and she was ashamed to admit that she started writing piano pieces herself. Her mother was never keen that she did this and eventually fired those servants from the manor, yet the piano remained. Amity didn’t know why she kept it there. Maybe it was to remind Amity that whenever she would want to practice again, she would prove to herself that she was nothing more than a disappointment in her mother’s eyes. After all, interest in what could be a different track will lead to mixing magics and according to her mother: that was the greatest sin against the Emperor and against the Titan himself. Another thing that the human fought hard against, literally pushing her way through so she could be in literally every track that Hexside has to offer.

“Well, not to brag, but I’m pretty good myself. I’m pretty sure that we could figure out something to sweep them right off of their feet.”

“What about your project?” Amity asked her. “Don’t you have to write something yourself? And what about the fact that you can’t cast magic naturally? It’s not like a musical instrument acts like its own staff.”

“That’s why I have these babies!”

Luz pulled out a couple of teardrop shaped, flat pieces of plastic that had a small glyph carved into them. They were still easily readable which is really surprising considering how hard it was to even draw something that tiny.

“These can enhance the emotional output of any musical instrument and use that to cast spells from a distance away; doing anything from repelling or possibly killing the biggest monster to putting the widdlest baby to sleep.”

Amity laughed at the most adorable face that Luz put on when she said that. “How exactly would you use that? I don’t know any instrument here that can be played with that. Or is that the instrument itself?”

“Oh! Yeah, we have this instrument that we use on Earth all the time called a Guitar. It’s this stringed instrument that my mother used to play for me all the time when she would put me to sleep as a baby.”

Luz’s face drooped for a second. She missed her mother more than anything. If it weren’t for the fact that she had a little more than a month to go back to Earth, her mother would be worried sick for her. A little more than a month before she had to admit to her that she was lying to her own mother that she was at a summer camp that would try to make her “normal” and not inciting trouble at her old school for being weird. She faked a smile and looked back at Amity.

“I’m pretty sure I can find one at The Owl House that Eda decided not to sell at her human collectibles stand. Even after we destroyed the portal, she still has quite a few things lying around. I’m pretty sure I’ll find one.”

“Wait, you did what to the portal?”

Luz just realized what she revealed to Amity. She hadn’t seen her since she broke her leg at the Grudgby match and she had just recently recovered a week ago. The healers on the Boiling Isles really do work quickly. She was pretty sure that Boscha was the one who broke her leg by throwing herself at her as they were trying to make the final play, but she didn’t bother looking further into that to avoid further conflict. After all, she wanted to make sure that Amity was okay before doing anything about it. And even then, Amity asked her not to get into it once she got her cast removed.

“I mean,” Luz’s voice grew shaky, “Uh… Can we talk about this, you know, not here?”

The two witches walked out into the courtyard of the campus as Luz relayed everything that happened while she was breaking Eda out of the Conformitorium to stop her from getting petrified by Belos and The Emperor’s Coven. Lilith the curse she cast on Eda, Lilith’s explanation for the curse and her resentment for what happened, Belos lying to Lilith and outright refusing to heal Eda’s curse deciding instead to petrify her, Belos and his request for the portal. He said that he wasn’t going to invade the human world, but Luz couldn’t take any chances regardless and slapped a few fire glyphs on the portal as he was given the portal and let the human go and free her mentor. She used Eda’s staff to activate the fire glyphs and just like that, the portal was no more. Tears trailed down her face as she reminisced about her last visit to the human world as she was fighting with Lilith before she gave her explanation and they never stopped since.

Amity let out a deep sigh as she finished listening to the human. “That’s… a lot to take in.”

The human nodded and wiped the tears from her face.

“Do…” Amity asked, “Do you miss it? The human world I mean.”

“I miss mi mama. I promised her I would be back. That I would be back in three months.” She stifled a small chuckle. “She thinks I’m at a summer camp somewhere, doing taxes or whatever.”

Amity didn’t know what the human was talking about. Summer camp? Taxes? Regardless, it didn’t sound pleasant.

“I just wish I can find a way to go back now. I wish I could see her again.”

Tears trailed down the human’s face and she wiped them from her face again. Her pace began to quicken.

“I have to go, Amity. Eda would yell at me if I left her to clean Hooty this month.”

And with that, she left the green-haired witch. She wished that she could help her. But that would mean letting her go. That would mean that she would possibly never get to see her again. Of course it was like her that the one girl she fell in love with was only here on a time limit.

~~~

Luz walked along the tree line of the forest, soaking in the red leaves that adorned them. She needed to catch her breath in some way.

Lo siento, mama. Desearia poder verte.

She stopped for a moment and sat down to lean against a tree to be alone with her own thoughts. Being on the Boiling Isles before was everything that the teenager ever really dreamed about, even now. From the demons that resided there that wanted to eat her almost every week to the Isles’ version of weather; albeit they are more natural disasters. Eda had only mentioned stuff like Shale Hail and Painbows before, but she was lucky to never see them. Only Gorenadoes and Boiling Rains.

She remembered the first time it rained on the Isles. She was so excited when the dark clouds started rolling in. Both King tried to warn her before she went out, but he didn’t even get out a few words before she stepped outside the Owl House just to feel that familiar trickle of the first few drops in her hair. She looked over to a tiny flower just to see it wilt from the overbearing heat of the rains before Eda came rushing in from her night out at Bonesbourough just to shout at Luz to get inside.

She remembered Eda crashing up inside her room, flopping over to the nest she made for herself. Not a pillow-fort and thousands of comforters and plushies sort of nest, but an actual nest with twigs and moss among other things she found shiny and beautiful. In fact, that’s where she kept some of her favorite things from when she was still collecting trash in the human world just to repurpose and sell them at her stand. She always found the old witch’s favorable items to be a bit unorthodox, mainly due to the lack of knowledge that the witches of the Boiling Isles had for humans, let alone their world in general. She found Luz’s ingenuity and knowledge of her home realm admirable and decided to take her in to first help with her stand. A few shenanigans later, and Luz decided to stay with Eda and King so she could learn to become a witch regardless of her natural inability to cast magic.

She remembered when she first learned of Eda’s curse that night during the boiling rainstorm and how she rampaged through the house as the Owl Beast. She remembered finding out about the elixir that was more or less her medicine and reverting her back to normal for the time being. Now that Lilith hadn’t exactly healed Eda, but shared the curse with her instead as an attempted remedy for her past actions, she wasn’t exactly sure whether or not the Owl Beast was going to rear its head in again.

Her mind wandered to Lilith. Eda’s sister. She remembered being so excited to learn that Eda even had a family to begin with, let alone a sister that she would banter with whenever they were around each other. That hasn’t exactly changed since she moved into the Owl House, they still bicker a lot. She wondered if all siblings are like that. Edric and Emira teased Amity almost constantly; however they were pretty much her bullies. Almost like Amity was when they first met, picking on Willow when she was back in the Abomination track at Hexside rather than the Plant track where she was so naturally gifted. She was afraid that when she released those vines inside of Hexside when she first snuck in, the entire building would have imploded on itself.

She was glad that Amity was a lot better now. She couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of leaving her now. They had gotten along together so well after The Library Incident with Edric and Emira. They talked almost constantly that now she doesn’t know if she could ever see the island again if she wasn’t there. Even if she was a ghost that she could talk to, Luz would have gladly stayed just to be by her side.

A rustle in the bushes sounded across from Luz.

She scrambled up to her feet and rummaged through her satchel to reach for any glyphs that she prepared during the day. Where were they? She knew she put them in there somewhere. She peered into the satchel to find all the glyph papers tossed around the contents of her bag, tucked in between books and under them. She made a note that that was the last time she kept them in her bag. She wasn’t even sure if they worked now. She grabbed one that was sticking out of the page of a textbook. An ice glyph, that’ll do. She slapped the card down onto the damp soil. The card shimmered in a white-blue light before a large ice shard popped straight from the glyph and suspended a Hexside teacher in midair.

Mierda!

“Oh! Are you okay?” Luz cried out. “I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to do that. I thought you were here to hunt me down or something.”

She lifted the teacher off of the ice shard that went right through the hood of his cowl and placed him down on the ground without breaking a sweat. Brown shaggy hair fell in front of the teacher’s face before he parted it like a curtain, revealing the wrinkled mug of the Abomination substitute.

“Mr. Almade! Heyy!”

“No need for pleasantries, Ms. Noceda. You nearly had me killed!”

Luz bowed her head solemnly. She just wanted to protect herself.

“But, however, that was an impressive feat of strength there. I nearly thought you were an abomination with how easily you plucked me off of that spike. I would be even more astounded by what abominations that you can make on your own.”

Luz opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. Why did he even say it like that? Was he trying to imply that Luz can’t make an abomination of her own? What absolute nerve does he think he has for even condescending to her? And why her? She picked up the scraggly man who was surprisingly a lot heavier than he looked. Aside from the layered tunic and cloak that he wore, there was nothing on him to make him heavier than he actually was. She assumed it could be the scarf, however that made no sense to her.

“Well, to let you know, Mr. Almade, I’ve made quite a number of abominations of my own. Yes, maybe the first one was with a little bit of help, but the others -.”

“The one that you were helped with was made by Ms. Blight yes?”

Luz stood agape at the Abomination substitute, every word going through her brain, failing to even travel to her mouth.

“She is quite a prodigy herself. Suffice to say, you have become quite a master at the craft yourself from what I’ve seen. But is that skill really your own or one that you stole from the people around you?”

“What does that even mean?” Luz finally managed to scream out the words that had been hanging over her lips. “Of course I have my own skills, I rediscovered a lost magic and I’m learning more and more about it every day! What right do you have to even say that kind of thing to me? You’re supposed to be a teacher not some bully to beat down on other kids!”

“Oh, dearest child,” the teacher sighed through his scarf and dug into his sleeve to pull out a card and slap it on a tree. It twisted and contorted into a massive plantlike abomination whose branches sharpened. The bark splintered apart to reveal a gaping mouth with large, gnashing teeth. “You aren’t the first.”

~~~

Had Blight Manor always been this empty?

Amity walked the empty lavender granite corridors and traced her hand over the marbled patterns. She took in a deep sigh. Why did she now only realize that Luz wasn’t always going to be here?

She had been walking aimless around the manor for about an hour now. Her parents weren’t going to be home for another few hours or so, considering they had an extended summons from the Emperor himself.

The Emperor! She could only imagine how Luz feels about him especially after what he did to Eda. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to be in the Emperor’s Coven anymore. Like she wanted to in the first place; for her parents it always seemed like everything that they were pressuring her to do was not only to further their reputation by having her hair forcefully dyed by them, but to get her into the Emperor’s Coven and force her to take her place at the top of the social ladder. As if they believed that she was worthy of any of that; As if she even cared about the social ladder to begin with. And now that contempt had been brought into focus by Luz.

Every time the thought of her floated into the Blight’s mind, she winced in pain and tried to wipe away any tears that would come streaming down her face. She wasn’t even sure if it was even worth it to pursue a relationship with her now. Maybe it was a waste of time.

Amity leaned on the mahogany hand railing as she trailed up the stairs to the foyer balcony and entered her room. It wasn’t small in the slightest, but not exactly a master bedroom either. It had enough to fit her twin bed and the rest of her set pretty well with some room for a few shelves to spare which she hung up with multiple posters, including one of Lilith in a profile view, staring directly at her as she is leaning over the hilt of an intricate sword with a smug grin on her face. The picture had a gilded border around it with the words “Join the Emperor’s Coven Today!” written under it.

Over the time since she asked her parents to hang up that poster in her room, she grew more and more discontented with it. The more she looked at it, the more she grew angry, sometimes talking to the poster as if it was Lilith herself that was mocking her. She only wished that she could have talked to Lilith like that in person whenever she was her mentor. And now she was excommunicated from the Emperor’s Coven because Belos lied to her and she acted accordingly. Her parents would definitely say it was her who betrayed Belos, but it really was the opposite to her. She wanted to shove all of her hate for the Emperor’s Coven and what it had done into Lilith’s face, but now that she isn’t the face of the coven, it wasn’t really worth it. She tore down the poster anyway. It’s not like her parents would care. She was a traitor anyway.

Amity threw the now crumpled up poster across her room and she watched as it knocked over the keepsake box that she kept on the windowsill. Realizing what she had done, she leapt over to the window and caught the keepsake box before it hit the ground and let out a sigh of relief.

She looked at the box with a longing almost purging her throat in a fit of sobs. She managed to keep it held back as she went over it. The box itself was as teal as parts of her hair that hung down the lowest part of the half-ponytail that she always wore with a letter “A” engraved on the lid. Gilded rivets acted as the box’s hinge that kept everything that she had found dear to her for the past few years.

She opened the box and took everything out one by one and lined them up on the windowsill. The tiara that she received when she and Luz defeated Grom; she remembered that night like it was yesterday and not around 3 weeks ago. A stack of photos of her and the rest of the group that Luz hung out with; they had become her dearest friends as much as Luz’s, especially now that she was mending her issues with Willow. Gus is a lot of fun to hang around, though to her, he can be pretty overbearing sometimes. And plus, he was two years younger than everybody else, so that made things a little more awkward. She talked to kids before, she read to them in the library and they were always super sweet to her. Though with Gus, it’s different. He had skipped a few grades and proved to be one of the smartest people that she had ever encountered, using his illusions to get them out of whatever sticky situation they got themselves in, if it wasn’t to use it for general fun. He is still a kid after all. How could she talk to a kid like that without condescending to him? That’s something that she would have to work on later.

Amity pulled out the last item and her heart sank. The torn up Grom-posal note that she wanted to give to Luz. She took it from the forest and stuffed it inside her chest along with her tiara that night. Why must her crush have to hurt her so much? Why did she have to leave? Tears finally managed to break the surface of her face and they started to pool up under her chin as the dripped down onto the rug and soaked into the fibers. She got up with the pieces of the note in her hand and walked back down the steps and back into the endless twisting maze that was the manor she lived in.

She didn’t know why she didn’t rip up the note into smaller pieces. She wanted to hold onto it for as long as she could. Maybe it was because she wanted to hold onto it for as long as she could? Or maybe she just didn’t have the energy? Neither excuse really felt convincing to Amity as she continued to traverse the manor; until she ended up in that room.

The grand piano stood in the middle of a large carpeted area of a much larger room with bookcases filled with books containing various sheet music that Agreus used to play the various works that either he or other notable composers wrote. There were even the few that Amity stuck inside the books with the scrawled writing that she made back when she played with him. A few other instruments laid out about the room, all put away neatly along the walls, but they never really stuck out for Amity. She took to the piano and sat on the stool as she brushed the dust off the keys that had lied dormant there from the years of neglect.

She thought for a moment. Should she really be doing this? She looked back to the note and remembered what Luz said.

Maybe I can help you write a song for them!

She couldn’t help but smile at Luz’s obliviousness. All she wanted was for her to stay. It may have been selfish of her, but she just wished that she could help the human while being with her at the same time. She ran over some scales on the piano, sounding fairly rusty as the hammers pounded on the strings.

Her hands trailed up and down the keyboard as she got lost in the music she started to improvise. After a while, she took in a deep breath and looked back at the note lying on the music stand. Her left hand started to make pulses on the keyboard as she felt all the pain and yearning that she felt swell over her. After a few bars, she started to sing from the deepest parts of her heart.

I was certain

From the day we first met

That our worlds will not cross

And I won’t regret

Those times that I hurt you

They seemed bittersweet

But you came around

And brought me to my feet

I won’t stop shaking

And my heart keeps aching

I couldn’t believe

That you would ever leave

I’d still let you go

But my heart says no

Please don’t go

When the boiling rains

Turn into snow

Please don’t go

And leave the memories

We made before

When you hold out your hand

And you take hold of mine

My heart starts to yearn

And I find myself pleading

Please don’t go

Don’t tell me that

I won’t see you

Anymore

Her breath grew shaky as she trailed along the keys. It wasn’t the best playing, still considerably an amateur to any bard out there, but she never thought about that. All she thought of was Luz. She thought of Luz and how she brought her out of her funk. How she was the sole reason that she was even happy to begin with. How she realized just how much she wanted to be out of her parent’s grasp.

“Little Miss Perfect

Do you understand?

That you’re meant for greatness

There’s no time to stand

So don’t be distracted

Just take the abuse

All you are meant for

Is a puppet to use.”

I won’t stop breaking

Out my heart

That’s quaking

I still can’t believe

That you looked out for me

I want to let go

But they still scream no

Please don’t go

When the boiling rains

Turn into snow

Please don’t go

And leave the memories

We made before

When you hold out your hand

And you take hold of mine

My heart starts to yearn

And I find myself pleading

Please don’t go

Don’t tell me that

I won’t see you

Anymore

Amity’s tears pooled up in her eyes as she started pounding over the keys. The frustration swelled over her. All the pain that she went through surged through her fingertips. All the longing, all the exhaustion that she felt coursed through her body as she practically belted out.

When time flashes by

Were you there by my side all along?

And when my face starts to flush

Would you even suspect

The love that I felt for you

Was even a prospect?

But even then

I can’t let go

My heart screams no

Please don’t go

When the boiling rains

Turn into snow

Please don’t go

And leave the memories

We made before

When you hold out your hand

And you take hold of mine

My heart starts to yearn

And I find myself pleading

I CAN’T LET GO

I WON’T LET GO

PLEASE DON’T GO

I CAN’T GO

I CAN’T GO

She stifled a breath as she left the note sustained in the air. She let out the one thing that she didn’t want Luz to hear. That she didn’t want herself to hear. What would her parents say if she ran off with her? Not even that, but what would she even do? Her fingers hovered over the keys as she softly laid them down on the next chord.

Please don’t go

I can’t follow you

Into the snow

Please don’t go

I’m too selfish

That, I already know

But when you crack a smile

Or when you make a joke

My heart starts to ache

And I nearly choke

Please don’t go

Don’t tell me that

I won’t see you

That I can’t see you

That I would never see you

Anymore

Amity softly pressed the keys on the piano to resolve the last chord and everything that had flushed over her lingered in the air. A mix of relief and sorrow hung over her as she closed her eyes and let out a sigh. A slow clap sounded behind her.

“Brilliant performance, darling; however you out of everybody in the house know the rules against using that old thing in the house.”

Amity spun around in the piano stool as she looked straight at the woman that she feared the most. The naturally dark green mane of hair that normally trailed down her back was tied neatly into a tight bun. Cold, unfeeling eyes stared back at her as she tensed up and bowed her head.

“Yes, mother.”

[mariposalass]

Sora’s Time to Shine

Summary: Mari is already not putting too much expectations going into watching the Final Smash Presentation when someone close to her besides Kirby and Edelgard’s beloved Professor pops out of nowhere in said Presentation. All hell breaks loose (but in a good way).

Setting: Mari and co.’s house in Daly City, California; October 5, 2021

Notes: I was pretty behind in seeing the reveal since I was pretty tired when it came out and I had to check a friend’s post on Plurk to make sure that it was not all for the jokes before watching it on Gamespot and writing this story down. And yes, the Byleth in my S/I verse is the female version in case anyone is curious. And yes, it took me until around 8 AM to write this up. Featuring Luther Vandross. Here is an ask I made on Sora’ behest during a F/O takeover long before he got confirmed recently. #SakuraiHasReachedtheImpossibleDream #Sora4Smash

Tags: Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, Super Smash Bros., Swift Keyblader, Smash Reveal, Sakurai has reached the impossible dream!, Sora for Smash, #Sora4Smash

“Hurry Mari, you’re about to miss it!” Kairi is dragging me out onto the sofa to see the final Smash Ultimate Presentation on the living room pretty early before plopping ourselves onto the sofa.

“Look, Kairi, guys. I hate to be a party pooper, but I have no clue about who could it be,” I try to be realistic in my views.

“Well, at this point, my beloved, it could be anybody from the video game world,” my dear Philip chimes in while trying to reassure me, “Besides, as soon as it is done, we shall try to reply back to this non Smash invitation that El had found in the mail today.”

“Huh, is that correct, El dear?” I asked my regal adopted daughter for confirmation.

“Why yes of course, Mother,” she replies as she passes me the invitation, “I believe that a friend of yours has sent us one, but I didn’t want to open it immediately since this is addressed to you.”

“Okay then, I will get to read it and reply back once the Presentation is over and see who gets to fight with Kirby and Professor Byleth,” I smiled back at her.

“I couldn’t believe that there was a leak that just came out before this Presentation video and it is about music. Who was that dense enough to do it at a time like this?” Riku mumbles as he gets the video streaming on the Nintendo Direct page in his laptop.

“You know, Riku, sometimes people can act very idiotic at times, so there isn’t much we can do besides ignoring and avoiding that as much as possible,” Harry sighs as he is bottle feeding and gently rocking Serena as she had cried a while ago to be bottle fed.

“Guys, have you guys seen Sora lately?” Issa asks us while carrying Chris in her arms, “I haven’t seen him in the last few days. He didn’t even reply back to either my or Kairi’s texts and calls. Do you think he’s off to visit Jack and Sally in Halloween Town? It’s nearing Halloween soon.”

“That’s really a good question, Issa,” Ahk agrees, “I had given up trying to find him by calling over on the phone since last Thursday. All I have gotten from it were many ‘The subscriber could not be reached’ messages.”

Even Riku and Kairi are in a loss for words as they turn to each other and wonder what is up with our friend lately. Did he just went poof without us knowing? Kirby always informs us through his many Poyos that he would have to head off to Smash whenever a new tourney starts or a newcomer arrives and Edelgard’s class often gets shorter class schedules or early dismissals whenever Professor Blyeth gets to fight in Smash: she is the professor handling the Black Eagles class. Sometimes even El, Petra and Dorothea along with a few others (and yes, that includes the Gatekeeper) would come over to Smash to spectate from the sidelines and support their beloved Professor.

There is a long silence when the Nintendo Switch title card plays in the laptop and Karina directs us all to watch the screen to see many clips featuring many Smashers in the current tournament before it transitions to Sakurai-san in the studio explaining about the video as well as showcasing the Mii Fighter costumes.

“Hey look, Isabelle the Dog’s demon slaying friend from Bethesda is now coming to Smash to rip and tear up the competition!” Moana screams when the Doomguy Mii Gunner costume appears.

“Good for him; I know that many fans really did want him to be in Smash, though the costume is a nice addition,” Issa agrees. “That now makes three Bethesda franchises represented in the costumes.”

“Even the Octolings and Judd the Cat got hats based on them too,” I chime in as well.

“Oh hey, guys! Sakarui’s about to reveal the last fighter for the Second Fighter’s Pass, so keep down it and don’t expect too much,” Karina informs as Sakurai transitions to the main event and we all stay silent and stay glued to our seats.

The screen turns black before the usual Smash logo opening shows up, but instead of the usual zoom in, it then turns into a flaming Smash logo with all the Smashers up until Kazuya Mishima (yeah, the guy who tried to drop Kirby off a cliff) looking at it and covered in the shadows. Did MH decided to get them to show up in there and meet the last fighter in the dark? Probably, I bet that he might be keeping it as a surprise and possibly even conserving electricity at the same time. Then cut to Inkling Girl looking in awe with the Smash logo reflecting onto her pupils as a nice ode to the first reveal trailer for the game/tourney, I honestly love this shot.

Wait a minute, the logo turns into stars and the next scene shows everyone frozen in place as toy-like ambiios?!? How is it even possible? Well, it does certainly confirmed once again that the video game version of the tourney is set in a world of make believe after all. I could swear that a lot of people crying their eyes out as they are watching this. It looks like this is the end of one great video game series about mascots fighting among each other. Or is it? Because the camera is aiming at Mario as if he looks like he’s trying to take a nap while standing up.

Riku then proceeds to mumble some words to me incoherently that something big is coming the moment Mario wakes up to see a glowing light to see the last remaining flame glowing on the floor, which I do agree with him. Suspicious right? Oh God, Mario no! Please don’t touch the fire for everyone’s sanity. Wait, hold on a second: that isn’t not just fire that he just grabbed on and then tossed it into the sky like a boomerang: the mystery object looks like a Keyblade and there’s that Mickey keychain! Yep, that’s a Keyblade alright. Could it be...

I could recognize that beam of light that Keyblades often produce whenever they lock and unlock Keyholes to other worlds, so does everyone in the room. Riku and Kairi hugged onto each other as if we’re about to brace for an emergency (Karina and Moana also did the same), Ahk stares at the screen to see if he’s not imagining things all the sudden, Issa has her mouth drop in shock, Chris and Serena didn’t cry throughout this entire presentation, Harry gasps and nearly drops Serena’s bottle, Philip turns to me for answers while Edelgard begins to sweatdrop in concern.

No words are exchanged as the light grows and shines brighter before it proceeds to shoot itself away from the Keyblade to reveal a Keyhole on another part of the room. It then glows bright within as the camera switches back to the rest of frozen Smashers as the light begins to fill the room and revives Link, Cloud, Incineroar and Mewtwo as they all gawk at it as it reveals something from the World of Light with the orchestral rendition of Simple and Clean playing in the background. And that’s when it hits us right at the gut: the familiar spiky brown hair poking out from that Keyhole.

“What!?!” Kairi shouts as the Keyhole ‘spits’ out Sora from the World of Light.

“H-h-he actually got in, for real?” Riku squeaks up.

“Oh my…” I gasp in pure shock as we watch the whole thing played out.

“Sakarui finally did it?” Issa adds in to the discussion.

“Well, it’s about time that they managed to get his darn behind into the tourney,” Karina seconds in.

Soon enough, Sora finally wakes up from his nappy time and takes notes from Peter Pan and Tinkerbell as he flies around, sprinkling fairy dust all over the other Smashers, before landing on the floor and the Keyblade flying back to his hand.

“Damn it, Sora!” I scream as the splash screen pops in.

“Kai, your boy has finally made it big time!” Moana shakes Kairi in congratulation rather rapidly that it nearly gives my lil sis a dizzying spell.

“Moana, please don’t make Kairi that dizzy,” Harry had to tell her that.

“Whoops! Sorry Kairi,” she apologizes to her which she accepts.

So with that, we switch back to Sakurai going in depth with Sora’s moveset after he discussed about the Kingdom Hearts games and world. And he has gotten 4 costume changes, man Sora, that’s a big wardrobe you’re bringing in, oh wait, he even got the Timeless River costume too. That makes it 5 then.

“Oh gods, Sakurai is making us suffer by watching Sakurai using Sora to beat up everyone,” Ahk tells us as the Sora moveset showcase begins.

“No kidding,” Harry muses as we see Sora beating everyone in Battlefield.

“Whoa, they went for Sealing the Keyhole instead of having Trinity Force with Donald and Goofy? What a bummer,” Karina bemoans in dismay.

“Well, you know modern Disney: too overprotective of their IPs,” Philip reminds her.

“Oh new stage, what could it be?” Riku gleefully chimes in before they reveal Hollow Bastion as the stage, “Whoa, Hollow Bastion. I never thought that you will return again.”

Then the stage changes into Dive to the Heart and it had Riku and Kairi in the stained glass in one, Riku being the main focus of the second one, Roxas in the middle of the third, Xion in the fourth, Terra for the fifth, a sleepy Ven in the sixth, and Aqua’s in the seventh.

“Pretty!” I complimented the look of each stained glass.

“Quite impressive I will admit,” El agrees with me too.

Then Sakurai begins a playthrough with Sora facing Cloud and Sephiroth in Hollow Bastion, for a while, we all thought that he’s going to be a goner with Cloud and Sephiroth beating him up in the Stamina match but then the tides begin to turn in his favor after Sephy lost his full stock and with Sora having to take down Cloud next. When he did, the scene begins to go into a slow white fade out with a Game!

“Alright! Sora did it! He defeated both Cloud and mean old Sephy,” Riku cheers on.

“Woo! Go Sora!” me, Kairi, Moana, and Karina screams aloud.

“That was brilliant!” Harry agrees before he turns to Serena, “Did you hear? Uncle Sora managed to defeat two opponents in a Smash Ultimate playthrough.”

“9 songs is better than nothing at all,” Issa observes, “It would be a licensing nightmare to talk to Disney if they can borrow a couple of songs from them and they straight up refuse to assist, oh well. Oooh, a Dearly Beloved Swing arrangement, nice! I better get that save file on the Switch prompto!”

“And check out that Spirit Board: Aunt Kairi has a Spirit of herself,” Edelgard informs us as the Spirit Board for KH is revealed.

“Oh gee, never thought that it could ever happen, but thanks,” she blushes.

“Hey, I got one as well, same with Axel, Xion, Roxas, Aqua, Terra and Ven,” Riku joins in, “Marina is so going to be happy to see her boyfriend as a Spirit. She will probably try to get him real soon.”

“You bet it right, Riku, you bet it right,” I nod and agree with that last statement.

“Oh hey, he’s going to be ready within a few weeks’ time,” Karina speaks up, “Neat! The roster is now complete.”

“Even Steve and Alex have amiibos of themselves being made, that’s even more wonderful,” Ahk takes note of it, “I’m pretty sure that Sora will have one of his own along with Pyra, Mythra, that jerk who tried to threw Kirby off a cliff, and even Sephiroth soon.”

“WHAT?!? Kingdom Hearts are coming to the Switch too!?!” I am surprised to hear the news as Sakurai reveals this new information, that is so mind-blowing.

When it fades to black then to the Ultimate mural, the camera then goes for the space between Ganondorf and Dark Samus to fill in Sora’s spot before panning back. Man, this Presentation is long and is finally ending, thank God; it must be tiring to sit down and watch a nearly hour long video as Sakurai showcases the screenshots he has made and showed off in Twitter. Man, so many memories and montages. And the achievements, wow, that is a lot of them, it will be a game feat that I don’t think it will be broken for a long time.

Man, I will miss the presentations and Sakurai’s corny jokes for sure. I wish him a nice deserving break from all the game development for sure as he gives thanks to everyone from the devs to the players to the people prompting the game and ends it off with a heartfelt goodbye as it fades to back into the full reveal trailer.

“Oh gee, I’m going to miss the Smash Presentations,” Kairi sighs, “I can’t believe that we’re coming to an end.”

“Man, it’s finally over,” Riku gasps in remark as the full trailer plays out, “I don’t think that there will be a game like Ultimate for a very long time. That’s for certain.”

“I agree, Riku. It’s to going to be a tough act to follow up on,” I add in before I look up at the ceiling and murmur some words, “It’s been a long time coming, Sora. You truly deserve that last spot, you really do. Have fun in the tourney and Smash Mansion, buddy.”

Sora is Finally Here!

The End

[hankwritten]

Quodlibet

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for ImSorry, College

“How do you even know this guy anyway?” Jeremy asked, leaning over Jane’s back in such a intrusive distillation of his character that this particular instant could have come from any singular moment throughout the semester, right down to the mortal threat to Jane’s class project.

“Watch it, Buster! You are dangerously close to causing the greatest second dolphin extinction event since the invention of the six-pack!”

Trying to dislodge his suitemate, Jane threw his shoulder, pushing Jeremy and his grasping arms backwards and away from the fragile, pseudo-aquatic diorama.

Jeremy slid down Jane’s spine. “Fine, jeez, I wasn’t going to squish your bath toys.” He went boneless just long enough to reach the floor, then promptly popped to his feet and began looking at the aquarium from the other side. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don't know what you mean by ‘this guy’,” Jane grumbled. “This is clearly a diorama. Not a guy.”

“The guy, man,” Scout nagged, and Jane could already feel the migraine coming on. Jeremy was actually the human embodiment of head pains, to the point where sometimes Jane wondered if he had escaped from a lab that had been trying to bio-engineer the most aggravating person in existence. “This guy that’s making you go wackadoo and put like ten times more effort into a freaking GED project than anyone ever should.”

“This has nothing to do with him.” Jane put an aggressive amount of glue on his last dolphin.

“Right, sure,” Jeremy snickered. “But as soon as I said ‘guy you have a weird rivalry with’ you immediately jumped to him.” When Jane grit his teeth, Jeremy laughed again. “So what is it with you two? You didn’t get the urge to start tearing each other’s intellectual dicks off just because of some Economics of Marine Biology class, right?”

“Applied Oceanography,” Jane corrected, pointedly not looking up.

“C’mon pally, you know what I meant-”

“Hrrn nn brrdaa”

The voice of their third and final suitemate spoke up from a nearby beanbag chair, where its owner was trying to ignite a textbook with a lighter.

Jeremy looked to them, then to Jane. “Really? He plays for the Brawlers too?”

“Yes,” Jane snarled. “Mystery solved. The new power guard is in my oceanography class, and now you will shut your trap, shortstop, so that I can proceed to kick his ass in diorama making and prove that I am the superior guard.”

“That ain’t exactly a perfect chain of events, but you do you pally.” Jeremy pulled to the far end of the couch, drawing his legs into a fold. “Ain’t like, you supposed to develop deep-seated rivalries with players from other schools? Not your own?”

“If you met him, you would understand.” Jane placed some cherry bombs at the bottom of the glass tank. “Plus, he-...” Swallowing his fury, he said, “he got me moved to small guard.”

“To- what?”

“Hurmm umma,” their third put in helpfully.

Jeremy absorbed this for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, oh man. There’s literally a position called small guard? That’s- that’s fucking hilarious you gotta admit.”

“I have to admit no such thing!” Jane rounded on him, diverting his attention from his precious project for the first time in over three hours. “I used to be power guard! Then some one-eyed, Scottish, lay-about, freshman comes in and thinks he can take my spot? This is betrayal of the highest order! A perversion of our constitution!”

“Mrra hudda.”

“I do not care if small guard is ‘technically a step up’,” Jane huffed. “Power guard is further to the front. That makes it better.”

“Basketball’s for chumps anyway,” Jeremy said, apparently having derived all the entertainment he’d wanted from the conversation, laying until he could reach his arms behind his head and dropping his legs in Jane’s lap. “You should try out for a real sport. But hey! Hope your little fish tank fills your inadequacy or whatever.”

“Oh it will.” Jane lowered his face to the glass, breath fogging and obscuring the magnum opus within. “It will.”

#

“And here you will see what happens when America finally colonizes the ocean!” Jane said to the drooling, glassy eyes of an 8am class.

They were significantly less slumberous when he threw a final cherry bomb into his demonstration, causing a chain reaction as dozens of ‘fireworks’ went off under the ocean, celebrating America’s eventual conquest. To really send the message home, he pulled the ripcord in the back, dropping a miniature stars and stripes behind the tank.

“Oorah!” he concluded.

“...Thank you Mister Doe,” the professor said. “Your time allotted for presenting is up.”

He turned and gave her a big thumbs up.

While some staff at Teufort U insisted you call them by their first names, this professor was not one of them, and it was rumored that the TA who had once dared to call her ‘Helen’ in front of her students was never seen again. However, no one could be that much of a hardass all the time; Jane was confident his project had just blown her out of the water (pun intended.)

She eyed his thumbs up with her perpetually sour face. “...That means return to your seat, Mister Doe.”

Jane picked up his aquarium and strolled jauntily back to his desk.

His good mood dissipated as soon as Tavish was announced as the next presenter. The usurper pulled his aquarium in on a cart, a sheet draped over to allow for a dramatic reveal. Dammit. Jane should have thought about dramatic reveals.

Tavish grinned at his audience, whisking away the blanket with a flourish.

“Behold!” he declared. “You’ve heard of desalination to deal with the oncoming global water shortages, but my proposal is this: a complete and total refinement. Salt water? Pah! Whiskey oceans are where it’s at.”

The tanked sloshed, full of something clearly scrumpy or scrumpy adjacent. Within the alcohol floated an awfully realistic looking octopus, expertly crafted and swishing with the tank’s movements. An eyepatch covered its left side.

“With the addition of boozed-based life forms of course, for an entirely new ecosystem.”

Jane curled his lip. Damn. He was good.

“...Mister DeGroot,” the professor said, “might I remind you that this is an alcohol free campus, regardless of any student’s legal status to drink? And, even without that, you are not currently twenty-one years of age?”

“Drinking age is sixteen in Scotland, Ma’am.”

“Sit, DeGroot.”

Tavish sat. He shot Jane a smug grin. Jane scowled.

“That concludes our presentations for today.” If the professor’s voice got any more disappointed, she could have been a ringer for a Badlands Brawlers fan. “As you know, the diorama that scores the highest marks will receive extra credit toward our upcoming final exam. I use the remainder of the class time to grade, and announce the winner shortly. Please return on the bell if you wish to receive those extra credits.”

The ‘bell’, unlike those rinky dinky little red bowl things they had in high school, was actually a proper bell tower, situated over the science building and able to be heard anywhere on campus. This was where Jane retreated to wait out his nerves, pacing around the semi-enclosed area and mulling over his chances. Fine, Tavish’s had been good. He was used to Tavish being good, the bastard, but Jane’s was better, and this time he was going to mop the floor with him.

“I am going to mop the floor with you!” he declared to the heavens.

“Not with that sad display you won’t.”

Jane jumped. A quiet moment of solitude foiled, besieged by his mortal enemy who’d somehow snuck up on him in order to lean cockily against the door to the stairs.

“My display was anything but sad.” Jane shook his fist. “It was joyous! Victorious! Other words that mean not sad!” When Tavish continued to smirk at him, he added, “plus, your idea is bad anyway.”

“Aye?” Tavish challenged. “How so?”

Dammit. Jane hadn’t thought this far. Replacing the oceans with whiskey really did seem foolproof...except…

“If there is no more water, then you can’t make other type of booze either!” he declared triumphantly.

Tavish jaw clenched. Ha! Good. Let him get angry for once.

He walked over and got right in Jane’s face. “Well what about you? How are you going to light off the fireworks underwater?”

“Oil, salt, and various temperature and pressure difference!” Jane didn’t like the other man in his space, and gave him a shove. They were always doing that to each other during practice, blocking and shoulder-checking harder than necessary, doing things that would certainly be penalties in an actual game.

“Who cares?” Tavish shoved him back. “No one’s going to see them anyway.”

Jane grabbed him by the front of the shirt and shouted, “the dolphins will! You would know that if YOU HAD BEEN PAYING ATTENTION.”

One, dangling, aggravating second stretched on, catching friction as they pressed noses and breathed heavy with the effort. Then they reacted simultaneously, lunging forward and attacking each other in mouth to mouth combat.

Jane growled furiously, trying to gain the upper hand, but Tavish was just as motivated not to let him get it. The pair of them sucked at each other’s faces, mastication muscles competing for this year’s WWE championship belt, crashing against the nearest half-wall surrounding the roof. A more wary observer might have worried about them careening over the edge, but Tavish and Jane had more pressing things on their minds. (And ‘more pressing’ was exactly how they were going to resolve it.) Just a whole mismatched ball of absolute frustration as they worked out several months of pent-up attraction.

Their combined rage might have carried them to hell and back, had the bell not struck 9am at that exact moment.

They both screamed, trying desperately to cover their ears as they hundred and fifty year old bell GONGED above them, rattling teeth inside skulls and causing tears to spring to their eyes.

“God! Why don’t they have a warning sign up? Bloody hell!” Tavish moaned, having found his way to the floor and using his beanie to futilely cover his head.

“What???” Jane, who already didn’t have a good ear at the best of times, worried briefly that he’d finally gone deaf.

“What?” Tavish asked. “I can’t hear a thing you’re saying.”

“What?”

This went on for several minutes, the two men lying on the floor of the bell tower.

When they finally staggered down to class, it was in a terribly haggard state, and new bruises around their mouths.

“Hello professor,” Tavish, the least winded of them, declared. “It’s alright, you can tell us which one was the winner now. We’ve worked out our differences, and determined to let the best man win.”

“The best man will be me, but yeah what he said!” Jane put in.

“If you’re going for flashy, maybe, but on sheer sustainability-”

“No one’s going to eat alcohol-based sushi, cyclops-”

“Enough,” the professor cut in. “Neither of you won the extra credit points.”

“What?” Tavish gaped. “But ours were the best out of anyone’s! How could we possibly lose?”

“The assignment,” she said in a clipped voice that spoke of years of dealing with the exact idiots that Teufort tended to attract, “was to create a physical display of algae chemical reactions at different levels of light and pressure as found in the oceanic zones. Not only did you not win, you have failed this project. Now, since I have a lecture in Hale Hall in fifteen minutes, I suggest you both move out of my way, otherwise you will not have the chance to recuperate those points on the final exam. Goodbye gentleman.”

She stripped the last of the grading notes off her desk, shoved them into a manila folder, and disappeared out the door.

Tavish and Jane watched her go. The minutes ticked by on the wall mounted analog clock, which probably could have told them the time just as well as the giant bell that had nearly deafened them.

“Hey,” Tavish said, elbowing Jane in the side. “I got to take Basic Intergluteal Numismatics next semester.”

“...Yeah? And?”

“Bet I can solve systematic inflation before you can.”

“Oh, you’re on son.”

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine: PRT THREE.

Reader gets a surprise visit from nasty Erik.

This was requested for another part. May be the final part because I didn’t plan for this lol. Wrote this today.

Part One. Part Two.

You had a certain pep in your step that didn’t go unnoticed. Heading towards your Micro Biology classs, books in hand and a blush on your face, you try and discreetly enter the classroom only to find eyes on you. Head down, you pull your hoodie further over your head, sitting down slowly so you wouldn’t gain anymore attention.l

Erik put it on your pussy last night. You ended up spending the night and fucking another two times after the first. After each hard fuck this man’s fat dick would just plump up and harden with the tiniest look in your direction. He loved the way you looked dressed in his large t shirt with your curly hair pulled back from your face. He would kiss your cheeks and stroke it with his thumb lightly, causing you to bite your lip and blush profusely.

He knew what he was doing to you. He was your new addiction and it had only been one night of him. As you open your laptop to begin typing, the vision of him burrowing deep inside of you with your legs over his shoulders had you rubbing your hands over your face. Your shoulders begin to bounce with excitement as you laugh, still perplexed that you even opened your legs and gave your tight pussy away to a 30 year old man.

A hung, freaky, pro of an older man.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hadn’t noticed that your Professor had been calling you the entire time.

“Your research paper, please?”

Your heart sank.

Fuck. You forgot to grab your written paper from your desk within your dorm this morning when you came back around 6:00 am. Brandy, your room mate and close friend, was knocked out on her bed, snoring and all. Brandy didn’t have an 8:00 am class like you did. And to top it all off your paper was also on a flash drive you forgot to bring to class.

“I’m so so sorry, I-“ you shake your head with disappointment in yourself. So much for a 100%

“I forgot to grab it from my desk this morning. I didn’t wake up to the alarm.”

Your professor nodded his head slowly, “Okay, you know how I feel about late assignments, correct? That will be a five point deduction from your grade, Miss Y/N.”

Your professor left it at that, returning back to the discussion about virology and parasitology.

“You know, this shit ain’t really like you, Y/N.”

That deep voice made you laugh. Your assigned partner and school friend, Lakeith, has to have something to say about everything you do.

“Lakeith, mind your business for once, please.” You sass in a hushed tone.

“I would if I wasn’t enjoying the fall of a supposed future Nurse Practitioner.”

With a death glare, you turn to him, his chestnut eyes always a hypnotic thing for you. Then he decides to smile, showing off his dimples.

They weren’t deep like Erik’s but they were still something.

“I got my shit on lock, Sir, worry about scoring higher than me on the TEAS, Mr. Future RN.”

“Baby girl,” he chuckles low, “My shit always on lock. Coming up in here like you just left a dick appointment.”

Your heart flutters. Was it that obvious? I mean, the dick appointment was hours ago but damn it was still written all over your face. You decided not to respond to that portion. He didn’t need to know.

“So, somebody hitting that and you down played every chance I offered? Wow.” He laughs to himself, leaning in towards you, practically all up in your grill.

“You getting some dick, Y/N?” He smiles, his shiny teeth almost blinding. Damn him for being this fine.

“Why are you checking for me so much?” You roll your eyes into your head.

“I’ve been checking for you. Don’t act brand new because you let some other nigga wow you.”

He smelled like cinnamon. Lakeith always smelled good.

But Erik smells like sandalwood and citrus.

Even Erik’s sweat smelled like cologne. The thought of him had you shivering down the spine, you focus your attention back on your typing.

“Yeah, you got a noticeable arch in your back that wasn’t there before.”

You heard a chuckle from Lakeith’s partner in crime, Marvin. Both of them, two Kappa brothers that joked like teenagers.

“Fuck you.” You fire back, flipping him off, “sit on it and spin, nigga.”

“Yeah, okay,” He puts a base in his voice, “I’ll have your little ass sitting and spinning on something if you keep playing with me, big headed ass.”

“You started with me!” You argue back, trying your best to keep your voice low.

“Whatever,” he shoves your head, “do some damn work.”

Kissing your teeth, you throw your led pencil at his head, watching him scrunch his face with discomfort, rubbing the spot that stung.

“Bitch ass,” you end the argument there, cracking your knuckles to get back into the grind. Lakeith wasn’t about to fuck up your A average.

How about Erik and his big Daddy dick fucking you? Remember, he said you can come see Daddy anytime you wanted some dick.

You press down over a series of keys, typing out something like dmcbcdjendh.

———————————-

“And again, this tutoring shit will not help me get through Calculus I. I don’t need some student tryna teach me.”

You ball up the flyer that your calculus teacher gave you for tutoring help. Tossing it in the recycle can, you march out of her office, fuming with fists balled and cheeks puffed out. Yes, you were a straight A student but the last calculus exam you took you received a 79 on it. That had you crying into a bowl of cookies and cream ice cream. Now, she was offering you tutoring yet again. The students who tutored acted so self righteous. She didn’t need for any them laughing at her behind her back or hounding her because they had the upper hand at the moment.

“Y/N!” Your young, chipper, Calculus teacher called out to you. She reminded you of Daria but less moody and socially awkward.

“Yes?” The annoyance in your voice was clear.

“Would you like another referral? There is a guy on campus who is here as a Graduate Student receiving his Doctorate. I graduated with him and he’s basically a genius. If you want, I can set you up over the next few weeks to meet with him during library time.”

Another teacher? Maybe this would help. She lectured crappy and it had you zoning out every few seconds. You had to result in teaching yourself.

“What’s his name?”

She motions for you to re enter her office. Closing the door behind her, you take your once vacated seat, staring at her accomplishments from M.I.T.

“His name is Erik Stevens. He is back getting his Doctorate in Engineering.”

Your Calculus professor handed you his business card. It was laminated, perfect watermark and everything. She didn’t understand the pure shock on your face. How could you forget that name after you moaned it and imprinted it within the hippocampus of your brain.

“Is there something wrong?” She asked with a slight smirk on her face. You must have looked crazy.

“No!!” You take the card, placing it in your hoodie pocket, “No, I just thought of something out of nowhere. You know how that happens sometimes.”

“Yeah,” she laughs it off awkwardly, “Give him a shot, Y/N. He’s really good at what he does.”

“Mhm,” you felt a sudden wetness in your panties. He sure as hell is good at what he does. Even your own teacher recommending him to you had you horny as a bitch.

This fucking man.

“I’ll give him a call today.” You look up at your teacher one last time before grabbing your bag, exiting her office.

//////////////

Erik: Call me and put that pussy on the phone, lol. I wanna hear her talk to me cuz I know she wet as a motherfucker.

You bite on your thumbnail while sitting in one of the study rooms within the Library. You were surrounded by Lakeith and a few other Micro Biology class mates to study for the next exam. You didn’t inform Erik about him tutoring you yet because you wanted to drive over to his apartment and tell him in person.

Y/N: It is wet, but I’m in study group right now I can’t show you. 😩

You were NEVER this damn bold with a guy.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be the one writing on the white board what the fuck you doing?” Lakeith startles you from your sexting.

“Shit, my bad,” you stand up, grabbing your phone and expo marker. The group began telling you information to write out, your mind in tune with education. After applying the top to your marker, you hear a soft knock on the door as if knuckles were tapping it. Craning your neck, you make out the outline of a guy around 6’3, new balance on his feet and a navy blue Champions sweatshirt with matching pants. He had a black North Face beanie on his head, with an artistic pair of gold rimmed glasses on.

At first glance you didn’t recognize him but the moment you stepped closer to the door to open it, a deep pleasure ran through your veins like lava. With a sly smirk on his face, he leans into the door further, staring down at you while curling a single finger for you to come here. He bit down on his bottom lip the moment you were staring at him face to face, the only barrier between you both was the door. He jiggles the door knob, motioning with a tilt of his head for you to open it before he did. Sighing nervously, you open the door, his body smelling like testosterone and patchouli. The thought of the pheromones he produced after sex had you buckling at the knees.

“You in here studying?” He asks with a whisper.

You knew eyes were on you at that door.

“Yes, Biology.” You respond, but not with a whisper. You didn’t need any of them wondering why you were being secretive.

“What kind?” He asks with a tilt of his head, his finger discreetly stroking your hand. You pause to breathe, shifting on your feet.

“Micro.” You meet his gaze, blinking away as soon as you saw the heavy lust there. Why did he have to bring his fine ass over here? Clearly he was in the library the entire time. He did say he’d been watching you around campus and he wanted your thick ass for a long while. So maybe he was watching you study with friends?

“Were you keeping an eye on me, Erik?” You smirk.

“That’s all I can keep on you for now, ma. Ain’t like I can keep this dick on you while you in front of your friends.”

Erik looks over your shoulder. His eyes fell on Lakeiths. He knew from that moment that homeboy wanted you. It was all over that niggas face.

“Let me help I know a lot about Micro Biology.”

Erik wasn’t asking really because he pushes past you, fully within the room. You shutter slightly before closing the door, taking in calming breaths.

“Can we help you?” Lakeith speaks for the group like he was the leader.

“Nah, looks like y’all need it though,” Erik takes it upon himself to spread your notes out on the desk, craning his eyes behind his glasses to read what you had. He takes his other hand, stroking his gotee before turning to the white board.

“Y’all sure y’all know how to study for this?” He asks with a joking tone. Lakeith and Marvin share a look before turning back to Erik.

“Yeah, we got this, bruh. You looking at the top students in the class.”

Erik nods his head slowly, “How about you, Y/N? He speaking for you like he know you smart.”

Lakeith laughs, “we work close together all the time. I know she got it going on.”

Erik lifts a single brow, taking your notes to stack neatly, “Y/N, this nigga always speak for you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring from Erik to Lakeith. There was clearly a weighing of dicks in this room but Erik would come out on top for sure, gold metal and all.

“Not always, but he has a habit to sometimes,” you hide your smile, focusing back to the white board.

“Y/N,” Erik calls for you. He had the right to do that you felt. He opened your pussy up and ate your pussy like a bowl of ice cream, licking his fingers and all. He could call you and you would answer.

“Yes?” You turn to him, giving him your undivided attention.

“You want me to help you study? I can do that right now I got time before my evening class starts,” he places his hands in his pants pockets, waiting for your answer. You both knew you would say yes, and you didn’t hesitate either. This could lead to what you needed.

“Okay, sure,” you try and pack your things but Erik was already on it, zipping up your back pack and throwing it over his shoulder. He walks to the door, opening it for you to leave first.

“You not gonna say goodbye to your little friends?” He says with a smirk before licking his lips.

“Bye y’all, see you this Wednesday,” you step out of the study room, Erik’s arm around your shoulder. Before you could leave the library, Erik pulls you in between an aisle full of history books, slamming you against the shelf. He pauses, trying to keep the solitude of the library at bay.

“Who is that little nigga?” He asks you with a calm that had you squirming.

“His name is Lakeith.” You respond with a whisper.

His eyes look from your toes and back up to your face. Erik takes off your hood, your messy curly bun frizzy from wearing it all day.

“Damn, you ain’t even fix this after I was all in yo’ shit last night.” He laughs with a deep raspy tone.

“I didn’t have time,” you whine, pouting like a baby.

“Why the fuck are you so cute? He had a slight tendrill of anger building up, you could tell from how his brows furrowed, “why you so damn cute, lil mama? Out here having these weak dick niggas craving you.“

You swallow spit, shrugging your shoulders nervously, “I don’t know.”

“What I tell you about that I don’t know shit?”

You forgot he didn’t like for you to tell him that.

“Sorry.”

“All you gonna do is say the shit again. But it’s cool, I know you remember how this strong dick nigga had you crying.” He was even closer now, breath on your cheek.

“I mean, to be honest, aint like you can do much about being the cutest bitch on campus. Cutest bitch with the tightest pussy.”

You could feel him grabbing your breasts with no restraint. Anybody could spot the both of you. You watch as he unzips your hoodie, the thin t shirt you wore underneath giving him a clear view of your big ass nipples.

“Y/N....shit,” he takes both, pinching your nipples and playfully slapping them.

“Big ass titties.” He kisses your neck on both sides with a little tongue.

“Erik,” you moan out with a shiver.

“I’m the only one allowed to put it on you, you hear me?” He whispers. Erik pulls you from the shelf by the collar of your shirt, palming your ass hard before slapping it.

“Daddy is gon’ be all in your shit girl, you wait and see,” he bit your ear, taking you by your hips to make you grind on him from the front. It was the wildest shit ever. You never did anything like this in public. For the most part it was kissing and ass grabbing but not this.

Erik pulls one of your legs up, his hands on the shelf while he dry humped your crotch.

“Damn, babygirl, that leg all the way up there, huh?” He pulls you with three quick pumps over his clothed and now fully hard dick. You could feel it against your leg and it was long as hell. He had you so open last time...Damn, he was gonna do that shit again.

“Let me stop before I have a big ass nut,” he chuckles, lowering your leg but never moving his hand away from your ass, “girl, when we get back to my place, I swear to God your ass is mine.”

————————————

“You’re so hard, I can feel all of that big dick, Daddy.”

You moan while grinding on his crotch, wet pussy wrapped around his bare dick. The minute you stepped out of his car and entered his apartment, he started undressing you without a word. Now here you were, fully naked and coating his dick with that good sticky shit. Erik has his fingers on your clit, rubbing in a slow circle while he instructed you to keep wetting his dick down to his balls.

Erik places his fingers within his mouth before grabbing your waist, angling you and making you bounce on his dick in rhythm with his grinding. It was an erotic sight to see, legs spread wide, pussy wet, hard dick all slick.

“Fuck, Y/N, got me ready to buss a fucking nut, damn girl!” He slaps your ass, “You ain’t all sweet, your little ass a fucking devil. What kinda sweet girl put a pussy like this on a nigga? Ain’t never heard of that.”

Erik grabs his dick, smacking your pussy with it, “Get on your fucking knees. Go on, ma, get down there.”

You were on your knees now, grabbing his dick with one hand, licking yourself off of him.

Damn this girl.

“Y/N, don’t be shy girl, c’mon, lil mama,” Erik motions for you to take him more, “open up...yesss, just like that. Mhm, good girllll.”

You gag on him. He was just so big. You had to stop and look at his dick like it was from another world. He laughs at your tear stained face and swollen lips. The spit on your chin he had a lot of fun with it seems, smearing it in with his fingers.

“I ain’t say you were done,” he jerks his dick, smacking you in the chin, “let’s go, ma, dick ain’t gonna suck itself.”

You grab him up, sucking him again. This time, he was fatter than before. What the hell was this! Your pussy was leaking, no lie. You could feel it on your thighs. Fuck if you weren’t sucking his dick. Erik rolled his eyes, head falling back when your tongue snaked up his dick.

“And you was tryna play scared?! Shit,” he shakes his head, “scared of what Y/N? You ain’t afraid of all this big dick.”

Erik grabs your hair, fucking into your mouth. You grab his thighs, eyes on him while he fucks your mouth.

“Damn, I’m balls deep in your mouth.” He grunts, pushing one final time before releasing your mouth, a thick stream of spit caught on your lips.

“Sloppy mouth bitch.” He slaps you with his dick. You were so astonished. He just hit you with his dick.

“Fuck. Me,” he looked from his dick to your wet face, “Come ride Daddy.”

You climb up, watching him apply a condom again. You pout with sadness, looking down at him roll the condom over all that spit on his dick. The vision was covered and it had you rolling your eyes.

“Fuck you doing all that for?” He caught that shit.

“If you fuck me raw I won’t act like this,” you speak in a timid tone. Erik licks his lips leaning back to admire you.

“You want some raw dick?”

You nod yes.

“Ard...take the condom off then.”

Quickly, you snatch it off, throwing it to the ground.

“Like I said, a slut for this dick,” he pulls you over him, “Get up here and fuck me since you want it raw. Fuck this dick like you tryna mold my shit in that little kitty.”

You squat over him on your tip toes, rubbing his dick over your clit a bit before lowering over him. He slaps your ass extremely hard, the connection complete and your lips in a full pout now.

“Yeah, thats my fucking girl, such a good little girl. Making that face I like, that dumb struck face with all this dick in you balls deep, fuck.”

You start bouncing, hands on his shoulders and head thrown back.

“Ohmygodddd ohmygoddddd.”

He was really hitting different. It was so much pressure you were sure to squirt. The dick was knocking on your walls for a squirt in return. Damn, his big dick was all the way in there. Shit didn’t make no sense.

“You hear all that?” He speaks to you but you were dickmatized, “you are splashing on me, girl! What the fuck!” You sure were. You could hear it loud and clear.

“Yes I am, oh my Godddd,” you gasp.

“Yes I am, Daddy. I’m so wet, Daddy.”

“You taking this big dick girl, it’s okay for me to keep fucking you like this? Fuck, Y/N this pretty pussy so wet.”

His hands were everywhere. He was low on the couch, hips pumping up into you with his eyes low and on your face. You were in an eye lock with him and it made the moment even better.

“Never thought you would be bouncing on this dick did you?” You both shake your heads at the same time, “I already know I just wanted you to agree with me, sexy bitch.”

You watch as he presses his hand into your back, lifting your leg with the other hand, pounding into you, beating your shit in.

“Damn, ma, I got you looking possessed,” he says all of this while fucking you deeper, flesh smacking louder, “mhmmm, this cool? Huh? Daddy hitting that spot, right?”

You were in no shape to speak. This man had a tight grip on your leg while he beat the brakes off your pussy.

“Shit better than the first time? You getting all of me girl ain’t no holding back. You want this raw dick you taking it like a big girl.” He slows down, making you feel every inch. It was literal murder.

“You a big girl,” he looks down at the way his dick was fucking you, “big girl when you getting this pussy fucked.”

“Fuck, yes.” You moan out. You’d be a big girl and take anything. This man had you wide open.

Damn, hold up, shit,” Erik slips out, arching you over the couch now. He used your shoulders, pushing you down so your face was pressed into the cushions. Your ass was pointed so far up, pussy spread wide for him to slip inside with ease. Your pussy was already wet anyway so he would be in that shit with no problem real soon.

“Throw this phat ass back on me.”

You move with as much energy as you could force. He had you tired. You move your hips seductively while throwing it back, your eyes on him to watch his every reaction. You watched him take in a deep breath, several to be exact, trying his best to control the urge to cum.

“This little pussy finna make me buss.”

You were about to buss from the way his head stroked your sweet spot.

“Ahh, I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you grab the back of the couch, legs shaking and cum spilling out like warm sugar.

“Pussy so sweet, Y/N,” he grabs your hips, taking control now while drilling you. The change of pace had your mouth wide open and eyes glossy from the pressure.

“Damn, you really in there!” You yell, back muscles flexing from the intense feeling. This man was stirring your guts around like a bowl of noodles.

“You putting it on me Daddy I don’t wanna stop!!!” You yell with literal tears in your eyes. You were being completely honest. You didn’t want him to ever stop. You wanted him to keep going and going.

“Putting it on this tight pussy?” He asks with a smirk, “This my tight pussy, you hear me? My tight pussy, little mama.”

“Yes, it’s for you!” You couldn’t believe it, you were cumming again, “DADDY MY PUSSY!!!”

The way you reacted to him had his balls tight and dick rippling, ready to cum.

“Best believe little girl I’m taking. this. SHIT.” He started fucking then stoping, fucking then stopping, like a pattern of torture. Your body would jerk forward in surprise, and then he would stop for about three seconds leaving your clit a throbbing mess. Each time he started back up you would gasp, the surprise of it leaving you motionless and breathless.

“Mhm,” he stops, slapping your ass, “Mhm.”

You reach back, hoping for him to grab your wrists. When he does, you prepare for the pounding of your life. Arching more, you feel him increase momentum, eyes growing lower and lower each time. He had you hooked. That’s it. You were fucking Erik Stevens from now on.

“How you feel about me bussing this pussy open?” He says in a breathless tone.

“I feel so good, Daddy.”

/////////////////////

You watch as he sucks on your nipples, your shirt lifted over your head. You just got out of the shower, your legs weak. He had you against his front door, wet hair all over your face and chest arched forward into his mouth. You cry and do it loudly like a whiny brat, his tongue flicking your nipples in the best way.

“Daddy...stop...” you push at him weakly.

He starts sucking like a damn baby and you extend your head back, hitting the door with a loud thud.

“Chill out,” you say between breathless moans. He was a damn animal for you.

“Daddy, what the fuck,” you rub your thighs together, “ooo...stop,”

He doesn’t say a word as he tongues and sucks on your titties. Nipple play never aroused you this much. Erik was a man of firsts for you. How was it that you could feel your pussy throb and drip from this? His eyes meet yours while he flicks his tongue over your right nipple. Damn, he was a fine motherfucker with a mouth you wanted to sit on. Imagine having a tongue like that slipping from front to back and side to side in your slit.

“Daddy eat my pussy,” you ask with no regard.

“Suck on that pussy?” He lifts with spit on his chin, “If I eat it you ain’t going no where for the night cuz im only gonna fuck you again.”

“So?” You sass, “plus, I’m gonna be here more often anyway. My calculus teacher recommended me to you for tutoring.”

He looks at you with dark eyes of lust while twirling your nipples, “Damn, forreal?”

“Yeah, I figured you could reward me with more dick if I do well.”

“Yeah, I can do that. But that means you gotta do well though.”

You kiss your teeth, “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“Put that bag down and undress. Squat over the couch with that pussy sitting over the edge, okay?” He said it so casually, his naked chest looking edible.

“Okay,” you put your bag down, undressing again. You know you looked a mess but he didn’t care about that shit. Walking to the couch, you watch him as he takes a hit from his blunt. You get into position, arching with your legs wide and pussy sitting for his mouth. Erik admires you while blowing smoke from his lips, walking over to you and getting on his knees.

“You gon pop that ass and pussy while I eat your juicy shit from the back?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“Good.”

You could feel him turning around, his arms up and on your ass, spreading you wide. You feel his lips kissing your pussy, eyes closing with bliss. He tongues your folds apart, his tongue dancing with your nectar. He slobs, then slurps, slobs, then slurps, a continuous pattern. Each time you would flinch, your clit jumping each time he did it. Fuck if you would get your pussy ate from someone else. He knew your pussy like the back of his hand. His tongue started flicking upward, only the tip of it teasing your clit and inner folds. It moved all over, Erik working that thing. You claw at the couch, turning your head no matter how painful to try and watch how he did that. This man was full of surprises.

“Daddy, how you doing that?” You ask with a sweet tone. He responds with a sloppy kiss to your clit. You fall against him, giving in to his dance.

“Fuck, Daddy.” You start popping your ass, the feeling of his gold slugs making you shiver. Shit, he was making you cum. Already this man was making you squirt. You were overwhelmed.

“SHIT,” you shake, pussy squirting in his mouth. He applauds you with a slap to the ass before going back to work. Now your clit was overworked and sensitive. The more he slobs the more you cum. And just like that, you were creaming.

“Oh, fuck yeahhhhh.” You talk into the couch cushion beneath you.

“My dick hard again. I told you.” He stands, dick ready to rip through his sweats.

You could hear your phone ringing, sure that it was Brandy but all that didn’t matter, Erik had you up in the air. You could see yourself in his mirrors that he had on his living room wall over his TV. You were so small compared to him. He’s taller, extremely taller, and so toned and cut, not one part of his body was covered with fat. He looked into that mirror too, eyes on you at times but also on the way he held you up like you were as light as an infant, bringing you down over his dick. Each time you both connected he would look back at you to catch your reaction. It didn’t matter how this man fucked you, it was great each time.

Erik walks over to the mirror while he still bounced you, turning sideways now, those full lips of his pouty and his eyes low and hazy.

“Creaming on me something serious,” he rewards you for that buy fucking up into you quickly. Your toes curl, hands around the back of his neck squeezing.

“Y/N, damn,” he scrunches his face, hands palming your ass to keep you up and open for him, “Baby girl, look at me.”

You look at him, moans stuck in your throat.

“Why you letting me take this pussy like this? You not afraid to fall for a nigga?”

You were already falling. It was only day two. He knew what he was doing. He played the game well.

“You not afraid to fall for me?” You catch your breath, “you’re not afraid to get pussy whipped by a girl like me? A little mama?”

“Nah, ma,” Erik shakes his head with a smirk, “not at all.”

You blush, your pussy gushing further over him. He may be your fuck buddy now but the thought of him being more excited you. He made you forget about your ex. Erik was the man of your dreams now a reality.

“Shit, I’m about to have a big fuck nut!!!” You watch as he fucks you at full throttle, body bouncing, wet pussy sliding, moans and groans loud for the entire apartment complex to hear.

“Fuck, girl!!!!” Erik slips out, resting you on the floor while cumming on your face and titties. You catch as much as you could and scrape up the rest to put on your tongue. Erik watched you with primal eyes, his sweat dripping on you. The sweat that smelled like citrus and patchouli. While you tasted and swallowed his cum you wished he would cum in you. You know why but damn his dick was good that’s where you wanted it next! You could only beg for it honestly.

“Ard, ma, time to get up we got some studying to do.” He picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You watch him pick up your back pack Erik walking you back to his bedroom. How were you going to study and get through the semester with Erik’s dick in you at any given opportunity? This was going to be tough. Erik drops you on the bed, your body bouncing. As you sit up and fold your legs, Erik opens you bag while his blunt rested between his lips, pulling all of your things out that you needed.

“I’m serious about this studying, shorty. Education is important. You want me to help you out you gotta pay attention to everything I tell your little ass, Aight?”

“Okay, whatever you say, Erik.” You pull your hair up into a top knot bun.

“Gotta work hard for what you want,” he looks at you, a smirk growing on his face, “you hear me talking to you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Daddy Erik when I’m in that puss, professor Erik when we hitting these books,” he takes a puff of his weed, “you smoke?”

You take the blunt without answering, smoking a little.

“Aight, what you get on your calculus exam?”

You felt embarrassed to say. You knew he would frown at you if you told him what it was.

“I’m an A average student, Erik.” You try and ease away from answering his question. His eyes were on you like he was ready to fuck you yet again.

“Ma,” he shakes his head, “just tell me. What you get?”

“A fucking 79.”

“You can do better but that’s better than shit I’ve seen. Stop beating yourself up, Y/N.”

His words had you dripping on his bed. You bounce, titties jumping and a seductive smile on your face. Your eyes focus on him, his still hard dick pointed to your mouth. He bites the corner of his lip, eyes peeking at the way your big ass titties looked bouncing. With a shake of his head and closed eyes, Erik grabs you by the chin, making you look up at him. He opens his eyes real slow, trapping you.

“Just suck my dick again, ma. You did that shit right the first time. I like the way you look chocking on my stick.”

Yep, this was going to be difficult.

@dameshaemonique @sheisexcellent1 @blktinkerbell

[barrysjumpsuit]

remember you - reader x pope heyward

requested? inspired by ideas @letsgofullkook gave me thank you bb

word count: 1.6k

warnings? this is pure pope fluff

summary: pope heyward is in college. he meets a girl and falls heads over heels for her, but pope doesn’t realize what she did to him years ago

----

It was Pope’s first day of college. He had done it: he had left the Outer Banks. While Chapel Hill wasn’t that far away, it was far enough. Living in a dorm and living the college life was more liberating than he would have ever expected.

He still had his friends nearby, but he was the only pogue he knew to be attending the university. There were several others, like Topper, that he knew of but didn’t really care about. 

Life was good for Pope Heyward, but it got better when you walked into it, there before his Calculus class. 

It felt like he had known you for his entire life. 

Your smile felt like home. Pope couldn’t help but smile back when you sat down next to him. You smelled like lavender and wore a striped romper, the colors reminding Pope of an Outer Banks sunset. 

“Mind if I sit here?” you asked, and Pope eagerly nodded. You sat down next to him, your backpack at your feet under the table that spread from one side of the lecture hall to the other. 

“I’m Pope,” he blurted suddenly, and you looked up, surprised. He smiled at you, trying to hide his awkwardness, but you didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey, I’m y/n,” you said, smiling back at him. You tucked your hair behind your ear before speaking again. “What’s your major?”

“Mortuary studies,” he responded, perhaps a little too brightly and enthusiastically. “What’s yours?”

“Oh, that’s really cool. I’m engineering physics,” she responded. “A bit more boring.”

Pope laughed. “Well, if it bores you to death, I might end up working with you,” he responded. In true Pope fashion, he regretted his words, wondering where they came from and halfway expecting a whap on the side of his head with JJ’s bunched-up baseball cap.

“Are you flirting with me, Pope?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“I- uh-” he stammered, but you kept smiling at him. 

He never got the chance to respond before their professor walked into the classroom. Pope did his best to divert his attention towards his professor and the syllabus he was droning about, but it was hard with you sitting beside him.

The class felt like it stretched on for hours. 

Once it ended, everyone stood, including you from your spot beside him. Pope scrambled to gather his papers and shove them in his backpack, jerked back to reality. Just as he filed away his papers, he looked to see a torn-off piece of paper from the margin of a syllabus sitting in front of him.

By the time his mind registered what it was, you were already gone, filing out the door with the rest of the students. Pope picked up the piece of paper from the table, his eyes scanning your name and phone number, written in perfect printed handwriting.

---

That night, Pope texted you.

It took a lot of urging from his roommate and a call to JJ for it to happen, but he did it. He sent Hey, it’s Pope Heyward from calc! :), opting for that rather than JJ’s suggestion of “hey sexy thing”. 

Hey Heyward! You replied a few minutes later, followed by a how’s it going?

Pope smiled in the light of his phone in the dark room, and his roommate whooped in excitement. He waited a few more minutes to text you back - he didn’t want to seem too excited.

Throughout the night and the next day, Pope couldn’t get you off his mind. He called JJ and Kiara, asking for advice. “Should I ask her out?” he confided the evening after he met you. 

“Bro, are you kidding me right now?” JJ’s voice came over the speakerphone. There was a grunt, followed by Kiara’s voice.

“Well, do you want to, Pope?” she asked, her voice calmer and more patient.

“What if it’s too soon?” he asked, losing all confidence. “It’s been not even two days, Kie.”

“She’s probably in the same boat as you!” she said from the other end of the line. “She’s probably new here and doesn’t have many friends. She probably sat next to you for a reason, Pope.”

Kiara’s words worked to calm Pope’s racing thoughts.

The next morning, in your 9:30 am calculus class, he asked the question.

“Do you want to have a study session?”

---

That week’s study session turned into a regular thing. 

Pretty soon, they turned into study dates.

Two weeks into the semester, you made it official. Your personalities complimented each other to a T. You pushed him when he was hesitant, and he grounded you when you were worked up. 

One night, the week of midterms, Pope got a call from you in the middle of the night.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” he asked in a hushed voice, sliding from his lofted bed and slipping into the hallway. 

“Hey Heyward,” you said, in your customary greeting. “So I’m studying for my history final, right? And-”

Pope sat down on the floor of the dorm hallway, listening to you think, not caring that he only wore a pair of boxers. Listening to you talk, letting him exist in that moment with you, was a nice feeling. You were brilliant; Pope admired it, but was slightly jealous, and kind of annoyed.

He was struggling in calculus. It wasn’t something Pope had expected to happen, but it was. The class was fast paced, and he constantly found himself falling behind in notes and on practice problems. But you were a calculus whiz; Pope didn’t know how you managed to perfectly copy down the notes and fly through the practice problems with such confidence.

Their study dates were almost exclusively calculus based. You would help Pope until the early hours of the morning. One time, he offered his bed to you, when it became too late for it to be worth going to your own bed. Pope slept on the floor, thinking about how lucky he was.

The next night’s study date, you confided in Pope. You had him over, your roommate out for the weekend. 

“This philosophy, humanities shit? Can’t handle it,” you said, exasperated. 

“How? It’s so interesting,” Pope replied, shaking his head. “‘The Epic of Gilgamesh’ is a classic, y/n!”

“Why?” you complained. “It’s bland, I can’t read more than two pages at a time.”

That night, Pope walked you through the whole book. He didn’t even realize it was three in the morning until you had gotten through your study guide for your exam.

“Just stay here tonight,” you insisted. Pope nodded, and made sure his phone was charging before picking out a spot on the cream-colored throw rug that covered your floor.

“Is there a blanket I could borrow?” he asked, not noticing that you had scooted all the way towards the wall in your bed, leaving room for him.

“Sleep with me tonight?” you asked from your bed, smiling gently at him. Pope nodded, switching off the lights, before laying down on the mattress next to you.

---

A week after that, Pope invited you home to the Outer Banks for a day.

You met his friends, and they took you surfing and then for an evening ride on the HMS Pogue to watch the sunset. 

Your head was laying in Pope’s lap. He found it odd, to be hanging out with his crew with a girlfriend. He listened while you and Kiara discussed the constellations and planets they could see in the sky last night. JJ laid next to them, his eyes trained on the sky, trying to follow their pointing fingers.

John B was sitting silently behind the steering wheel, his feet kicked up on the dash. At one point, he made eye contact with Pope, and flashed him a thumbs up and mouthed, I like her.

Pope couldn’t help but smile back at him before diverting his attention back to you. How the starlight reflecting off the water illuminated your face, and how you fit in so effortlessly with him and his friends.

“It’s like I’ve known you my whole life,” he murmured to you that night as they motored back towards the Chateau. 

“Well, close to it,” you said, laughing, but stopping once your eyes landed on Pope’s confused expression. “Wait… you don’t remember me?”

“What are you talking about?” Pope asked, his heart twisting, trying to fly out of his chest.

“Fifth grade. North Carolina state spelling bee.”

Your words brought back a flood of memories. Pope remembered the high school gymnasium in Raleigh. He sat in a sea of chairs, all empty except for a girl to his right. You and Pope had been even throughout the entirety of the spelling bee, and now, you were the last two standing.

“Pope Heyward,” the announcer had said. Pope stood, walked to the microphone, and found his parents in the audience. “Your word is ‘camouflage’.”

He took a shaky breath, audible in the microphone.

“C-A-M-O-F-L-”

The buzzer sounded, and Pope’s heart stopped.

“That is incorrect. Y/n y/l/n, you have a chance to steal. If you spell this word correctly, you will win the spelling bee. Your word is ‘camouflage’.”

You had stepped up to the microphone beside where Pope stood.

“Camouflage. C-A-M-O-U-F-L-A-G-E. Camouflage.”

“That is correct.”

Pope found it hard to believe that it was you. The same girl who beat him in the spelling bee in the fifth grade. Now, you smiled up at him, laughing, nestled in his lap on his favorite boat, in his favorite place, with his favorite friends. 

“I, uh… didn’t remember you,” he stammered.  “We were so young, how do you remember me?”

You laughed, and Pope was captivated by the way your eyes sparkled under the stars.

“Pope Heyward, how could I not remember you?”

----

taglist @letsgofullkook @sortagaysortahigh @jjsmentalpolaroids @queenk00k @ims0golden @jjmaybcnks @stargazingstarkey 

[lilwenney]

LONDON BOY (pt. i)

pairing: will x female!reader warning(s): none word count: 3.2k a/n: WHAT A LOVELY LITTLE SURPRISE x coming in five days sooner than originally planned. this is part one of an eventual two-part series. and whoever sent me an anon months ago saying an imagine based off london boy by taylor swift writes itself, you are correct, & i thank you for putting the idea into my head. i hope u all enjoy x 

London September, 2019

A nautical twilight began to set over London as (Y/N) trekked home from the Edgeware station. Her headphones were perched over her head and she listened to the sweet sounds of an indie song while admiring the turn of the blue sky. In the distance, behind the towering London skyline, night had fallen. Unlike all of the other days she rushed home right after class, this day she was taking her time, enjoying the warm, late-summer breeze and the smell of the rain in the air. 

She had been cooped up in a university computer lab for five hours that day, working on a digital clip for one of her courses, so now she was taking her chance to stretch her legs and take the deep breath she had desperately needed hours ago.

Just a little ways from her flat, while crossing the street, her phone vibrated in her hand. It was a text from a food delivery service, saying that they were on their way to her address with her order. Even though she had lived in London for just two months, she had already caught on to a few things. And ordering food on the tube knowing that she would make it home just as they pulled up with her delivery was one of them.

And just like always, as she crossed the street to her building, someone on a bike pulled up right next to the entrance. She confirmed her order number and the woman handed her the bag, and with ease, (Y/N) scanned her key and headed into the residential building, taking the lift to her floor. 

Shoving her key into the lock, she turned it and pushed the door open, greeted with a hello and the smell of food wafting from the kitchen. “Hey Marg,” she said in response, dropping her key into the small bowl on the foyer table. 

Toeing off her own trainers under the table, she looked down to see another pair of unfamiliar shoes next to hers. She raised a brow, not recognizing them from any of the friends who came to visit often. “Whose shoes are those?” She asked, walking into the kitchen and into view of her flatmate, Margot. She crossed the hardwood floors and to the dining table, setting her bag of takeaway down. 

Margot hummed, plating her dinner. “Oh, those are Will’s.” 

“Will?” 

“My brother,” she said slowly, looking over to (Y/N) and the girl just shrugged before sitting down at the table and pulling out her food. “The air system broke in his flat so he’s staying in our guest room until it’s fixed. Should only be a couple of days.” 

She nodded, deciding to not ask anymore questions. It was a common occurrence for people to come over and spend the night, mostly Margot’s friends. Her and Margot had only been living together for two months now, so there were still some things they were figuring out about each other. 

When (Y/N) moved in, her and Margot hit it off quickly, and within six hours of her finishing her unpacking, they were sitting on her unmade bed with a bottle of wine talking about their lives and spilling secrets they swore they would never tell anyone else. 

By the end of the night, (Y/N) found out that Margot came from Newcastle, she had a dog and a boyfriend, and that she was the youngest out of three, and Margot knew that (Y/N) was originally from California, an only child, and that she loved the occasional night out with a vodka soda in hand. 

They had almost an entire year to find out more about each other. There was no shortage of time. 

(Y/N) was only staying in London for a year to study abroad, it was a spur of the moment decision that led her halfway across the world, moving in with a complete stranger, and living in a foreign world. And so far, she loved every single second of it.

“What are you doing this weekend?” She asked, popping open the lid to her chicken and noodles. 

Margot flipped off the stove and walked over to the table, sliding her plate down in front of the seat next to her flatmate. “I’m going to Charlie’s tomorrow morning. He’s gotta finish editing and stuff so we’re just going to hang out.” 

Charlie was Charlie Albarn, Margot’s photographer boyfriend. They had been dating since Margot first moved to London a couple of years back. (Y/N) had only met him twice, but she liked him. He was cool enough to help her with photoshop for an entire night when she desperately needed to get an assignment done and was on the verge of a panic attack. 

“What about you?” 

(Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t know yet. It’s supposed to be nice this weekend and I want to do something new besides staying in all day.” 

“Do you have anything in mind?” Margot asked.

“No, not yet,” she said, standing and grabbing a drink from the refrigerator and returning to the table. “I have done all the… touristy things. I want to do something new besides going to the same shopping centre or fighting against a thousand people walking down the street.” 

“You went to Piccadilly?” 

“You didn’t warn me!” She called out and Margot let out a laugh.

“Everyone should experience the absolute hell that is Piccadilly at least once in their lives. It’s a bloody nightmare.” 

(Y/N) laughed, picking up her noodles with the chopsticks and taking a bite. For the next hour, they ate together, talking about their busy schedule and the nonsense that ensued during the day - Margot had missed her train, making her late for class, and she panicked before realizing her professor was standing right behind her and he had also missed the train, and (Y/N) had accidentally tripped in front of a tour group while jogging up the library stairs, and of course, laughter followed. 

Margot cleaned up her mess, washing the dishes from dinner while (Y/N) tossed her trash in the bin and walked down the hallway to her bedroom to take a shower. She stripped of her clothes and tossed them into her hamper, stepping in and allowing the hot water to steam the bathroom and wash all of her stress and worries away. Sometimes, long days and the university life truly got the best of her. Even though she loved it and wouldn’t regret studying abroad, it was tiring and overwhelming most days. 

If it wasn’t a Friday night, she would already be in bed with the blankets over her head. Instead she put on her pajamas, wrapped her hair in a towel, and lounged on the sofa with Margot when she finished the dishes. They laid facing each other on opposite ends of the sofa and flipped through channels and streaming sites before settling on re-watching episodes of their favorite series that they could watch without worrying about falling asleep in the middle of it.

An hour later, in the quiet hum of the flat, the lock on the door clicked open and (Y/N) shot up, her hands gripping the soft cushion beneath her as her wild eyes met Margot’s. “Is someone there?” She asked, her heart skipping a beat in surprise. 

Margot nodded, screwing the cap of her bottle back on as she glanced down the hallway. “Yeah, yeah, it’s just Will. I gave him a key earlier when he left for dinner.” 

She plopped back against the arm of the sofa with a sigh of relief. The door shut and footsteps began to trail down the hallway, and she turned the volume on the television down as a body stepped around the corner. 

(Y/N) looked up and away from the television, landing on a tall figure standing in the doorway. It was Will. Her eyes landed on him and she quickly took in the sight of his dark hair, his sharp jaw, and even caught a glimpse of his black jersey before she looked back at the screen so he wouldn’t catch her lingering gaze.

“What you doing back so early?” Margot finally asked when he stepped into the room. 

Will lowered down onto one of their chairs, picking up the throw pillow and holding it in his lap. “Didn’t even get dinner. Just wound up at Alex and George’s and hung around for a bit.” 

“So you came back to eat the dinner you knew I was fixing?” 

He looked at her and smiled wide. Eyes trained back on the screen, (Y/N) laughed lightly when she saw just how far he and Margot’s relations went. They shared a few physical qualities, and when she noticed his teasing smile, she knew they were siblings for certain. Margot had pulled the same smile on her numerous times. 

Margot sighed in defeat. “There’s a plate in the microwave for you.” 

“Right, right,” he jumped up and turned around, walking into their connecting kitchen where he grabbed the plate from the microwave. “It’s like you knew I was starving.” 

“No, just knew you liked to steal food so I made extra.” And (Y/N) heard his laugh from the other room and she smiled. 

A few seconds later, his feet tapped against the floor and he walked back into the living room, lowering down into his chair with the plate of food in hand. 

“Oh,” Margot looked at her flatmate and smiled warmly, “(Y/N) this is my bastard of an older brother William, and Will, this is (Y/N).” 

In the semi-dark living room, their eyes met across the coffee table and they quietly said hi to each other with a smile. She noticed how the corners of his lips met his eyes with a smile, and when he took a bite of the vegetables on the plate, she realized once again, she was staring. So she cleared her throat and quickly looked away, her eyes meeting the television where the characters were talking, and then she noticed the time on the clock on the wall.

“I should probably go to bed soon.” She said when the clock hand showed near ten thirty. It was around the time she went to bed every night unless she was up studying or finishing homework. 

Will raised his head at her voice, taking note of the lack of a British accent. Margot had told him about her briefly, but he hadn’t paid much attention after the words “uni student.” At first glance, he thought she was cute. 

Margot looked up from her phone. “Have you figured out what you are doing tomorrow?” 

She yawned and shook her head. “No, not yet. I will probably just pick something to do in the morning and go with it.” 

“What’s goin’ on?” Will creased a brow, glancing at his sister and then to (Y/N).

“I’m trying to figure out something to do tomorrow. The non-touristy, crowded stuff though. I have had my fair share of fighting crowded streets and pubs.” She explained. “And I can’t think of anything that I want to do. But I just want to get out and do something.” 

“Ah, there���s this really cool place that’s out in the middle of like, fucking nowhere, but it’s a huge building filled with neon signs.” 

She laughed. “Do you remember what it was called?” 

Will paused and then tilted his head as if searching through his memory. He looked back at her and squinted. “I’ll get back to you on that.” 

“Okay,” she laughed again before standing up from the sofa, “I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” 

The siblings quietly said their good-nights and (Y/N) walked down the hallway to her room, shutting the door behind her, and she slipped under the covers with ease, falling asleep no less than minutes after her head hit the pillow.

***

The West London flat was quiet the next morning. Slowly, the sun rose above the horizon and peeped through the buildings of the skyline, filtering in through the curtains of (Y/N)’s room. She woke up a couple of hours after Margot had left, once gently awakened by the opening and closing of the door down the hallway at eight a.m. sharp, and then she fell back asleep for as long as she could.

She woke up and pulled herself from the depths of her bed, facing the day once and for all at ten a.m.. Sliding on her slippers and walking into the connecting bathroom, she quickly brushed her teeth and then brushed her hair before stepping out of her room and into the hallway. The flat was cold and still, the only sound coming from the slight hum of the air conditioning through the vents. 

Margot was gone and Will wasn’t awake yet, so she was trying to be as quiet as possible while she made up a quick breakfast. But her attempts at being quiet were another’s “banging pots and pans.” And that’s exactly what she sounded like to Will.

Plating her eggs and slices of bacon, she heard the quiet rustle of the comforter from the guest room and then the door clicked open. A second later she turned to see Will walk into the kitchen - he was yawning, rubbing his tired eyes with the heel of his palm. He was wearing a jumper and a pair of shorts, hair disheveled from his sleep. 

“What are you doing awake?” She asked innocently, using the spatula to shovel the rest of the food onto another plate. After last night and him insisting Margot also fix him dinner, she made sure to make extra for him. 

“I woke up after the… third time you burnt the toast? When you were trying your best to whisper.” 

(Y/N) felt the back of her neck heat up in embarrassment. “You heard that?” 

“All the ‘shits’ and ‘fucks.’” 

“Ah, you must have missed the ‘bullshits.’ Those were in the mix too.” She picked up the extra plate and turned around, holding it out for him as she walked towards the dining room. 

Will dropped his hand and looked down at the plate. “Ah, you didn’t have to fix me anythin’.” He said and she picked up on his gravely morning voice. 

“I know. Just felt like you would want some anyways..” She sat her plate down on the table and grabbed a juice from the refrigerator before returning to her normal chair at the dining table. 

He looked at her and smiled sleepily before following her steps over to the table. Like Margot last night, he pulled out the chair across from her and lowered down, taking his fork and diving into the food in front of him. 

“You decided what you’re doing today?”

She tsked. “Kind of. Just know there are a couple of places I want to go, but I haven’t really planned it out yet.” She said before glancing back down to her plate. “I found the neon sign place you were talking about. It’s way north, but not too long on the tube.” 

“Yeah, can’t remember the name of it for the life of me. It’s fuckin’ weird though.” He said and she laughed, taking another bite of her food. Will looked at her for a second before dropping his head back down, poking his fork at the eggs, mind swirling through his plans for the day, and then he looked back up to her. “But I know the area pretty well, so I can show you, if you want me to.” 

Her head snapped up and she looked at him with a small smile. “Yeah?” He nodded and she followed along. “Then, yeah, yeah, you’re more than welcome to come along if you’re not doing anything.”

“Ah, I planned on fixing lunch, probably end up burnin’ it, and then waiting for Margot to get back.”

“Well,” she laughed, “I can promise you a slightly more eventful day than that.” And he smiled at her before they turned back to their breakfast. 

An hour later, after eating and washing the dishes, the two returned to their respective bedrooms to get ready. In a rush, she blotted on concealer under her eyes and spritzed on sunscreen, and lastly tousled her hair before deciding to leave it be. Back in her bedroom, she slid into a pair of ripped denim jeans, a black tee, and a pair of matching shiny black boots. But when she saw the cloudy sky through her bedroom window, she made sure to grab her green jacket on her way out too. 

“What do you want to see first?” Will asked as they strolled down the pavement to the underground a handful of minutes later. 

Jogging behind him down the steps, (Y/N) quickly took in his outfit - black skinny jeans, a plain black tee, and a light denim jacket. She cleared her throat while watching him pull his tube pass from his wallet. 

“I don’t know,” she said scanning her pass, following behind him in the turnstile, “you know the place better, what do you have in mind?” 

Will paused, stuffing his pass back into his phone case while waiting for her to catch up to him, and they began to walk down the set of stairs to the platforms among at least a dozen others. “Little Venice isn’t too far from here, and then there is the junkyard you wanted to go to,” he listed off, “and there is this really cool rooftop beer garden in the city centre that you would like.” 

She raised a brow, a curious grin on her lips. “That I would like,” She repeated, teasingly. “What do you think that is?” 

Will turned around, walking backwards while leading her down the platform where the tube was coming to a stop at the station. He met her eyes, a brow raised in a test. “I guess you just have to trust me.” 

“Should I?” She teased. “Because I just met you for the first time about nine hours ago.” 

Will shrugged. When the doors opened next to the platform, he looked down at his feet and then took a step backwards inside, looking at her with a raised brow. “The choice is all yours, love.” 

(Y/N) licked the inside of her cheek as she looked at him with a smile. He was a cute boy offering to show her around the city, to show her the places she had once dreamed of seeing. Of course she couldn’t help but follow along. 

When the automated voice stated that the doors were closing, she took two swift steps off the platform and into the tube, her body clashing with Will’s as the doors closed just inches behind her. Looking up, she saw him smile down at her, and her cheeks flushed at the realization of just how close they were. She could smell his cologne. 

A beat later, he chuckled and she took a step back, straightening her own jacket. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

“You won’t.” He said, reaching up with both hands to hold onto the railing above them, and he looked back down at her. “I’ll give you the bloody best non-touristy-tour of London that will make you wish you paid me.” 

“That’s up for me to decide though, isn’t it?” 

“Nah, not really. I know how good I am.” And she rolled her eyes before he chuckled before the tube began to move onto their station just a few stops away.