#so sorry for the essay I didn’t expect it either

[flaim-ita]

I’d say a part of it is just Ace being Ace but also a thing I noticed is Tsumuri and Ace are very similar but show their similar natures and moralities in very different ways due to circumstances.

Ace is a player and he knows he is a demigod long before he knows his mother is the goddess. He is (he thinks) in control of his situation. Tsumuri is owned by the DGP. She’s “staff” but that is basically code for “you can do what you want so long as you DO WHAT YOURE TOLD. Or you die” and despite being in the know on everything it’s made clear she has zero say and zero power.

They’re both showboaty and mysterious and ancient…

But Tsumuri uses a cutesy mascot aesthetic to protect herself and better do a job she genuinely enjoys. Like she loves being the navigator to help these people of the past achieve their dreams (it’s part of why she butts heads more with Chirami - unlike Giroli, he is not united with her in a love of the hope the DGP represents.)

Ace by comparison uses his loud “Star of the Star of the stars” repeat winner aesthetic to wow the audience, and it is a genuine part of him, but it helps hide just how much he cares about others. Something I’ve noticed is he tends to “test” new Riders on the strength of their resolve vs their desires. He can’t openly help them but he tries to push them forwards anyways.

They also have similar core philosophies which is that “the concept of the DGP is positive bc it represents hope and determination to achieve desire, and I want to help people reach the things they most deeply want, but I have My Own Circumstances.”

(Which, again, reflect themselves in different ways but both come to question their own hesitation and the DGP as it stands at roughly the same time and both right around when they awaken their powers as gods)

Anyways all of this to say I think it comes from the same sentiment. “I want to help, and I don’t know what to do, which is a rarity, so here is something I know all humans want and need in a crisis while I try to understand this all.” Both Tsumuri and Ace are both there to help and there to question, and both of these scenes represent the start of their arcs TOWARDS cutting “the DGP is important” from “everyone deserves a chance to fight for their desire of it is truly a genuine wish”

first of many times ace will seek michinaga out to feed him. i find it fun and interesting that tsumuri did this for him first a few episodes ago, the same kind of food in the same kind of bag, and he's extending that to michinaga now. idk if that means anything though

[hysteria-things]

can you do a teacher!chris and a college student pleasee. (With smut. And if you want to!!)

PROFESSOR STURNIOLO

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!teacher!chris x student!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: this isn’t your first problem with this specific professor, but at this moment you’re fed up and want to put your foot down.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, p in v, degradation, spanking, masturbation (female), making out, stomach bulge, overstimulation, dumbification, squirting, cream pie

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,535

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we are locked in🫡

your professor dismissed class mere seconds ago, and everybody either has already left the lecture hall or is still packing up. “are you meeting us for lunch?” your friend says, zippering her bag and putting it on her shoulder.

you scoff, shaking your head. “can’t.” you say, ripping out the essay you wrote for this class that was due a few days ago. “professor sturniolo gave me an F on the essay.”

“again?” she questions genuinely shocked. “he’s got a bone to pick with you.”

this isn’t the first encounter like this you had with your professor. this class — your argument and persuasion class — is the only one you’re failing this semester.

not in your three years have you ever had this type of problem, and after many F’s, you’ve finally had enough.

“well, good luck.” your friend sighs, leaving the classroom with the remaining group.

now, that leaves you and him.

it would be a different story if you didn’t do the assignment right or didn’t try on the essay, but you’re one hell of a writer and you’re sure he knows it. you’ve always been good in school, ever since a young age.

normally you wouldn’t pick up fights with teachers, but your blood has been boiling for this dude for weeks.

“what’s your problem with me?” you say sternly, wiggling the paper in your hand as you step down to where he is.

he stops erasing the board and turns to you. “class is over, ms. l/n.”

yeah, no shit.

you roll your eyes. “so? i want to speak with you about my recent essay. you always give me F’s and never explain why. i would understand if it happened once before at the beginning of the year, but for every. single. one? it’s ridiculous.

he’s emotionless as he listens to your rambling, then he shrugs. “it wasn’t good enough.”

you crinkle the paper in your fist and slam it down on the desk in front of you. “wasn’t good enough my fucking ass, professor sturniolo. is it a favoritism thing? or are you fucking the other chicks in your class so they can have good grades? is that what i need to do? do i need to fuck you?”

the moment those words left your mouth, you knew that was a huge mistake.

you wouldn’t be surprised if he does, though. he’s not much older than you, and he is attractive.

he licks his lips, tilting his head toward himself. “bring it over.”

you gulp, feeling slightly intimidated. you uncrinkle the page and hand it to him, who is now sitting in the chair.

not even reading it, he stares at it and looks back up at you. “sorry. your paper didn’t meet the expectations.”

your pinch your lips together to keep you from screaming at him. “you didn’t even read it.” you shake your head. “i should’ve dropped this class when i had the chance. you’re cocky, and a waste of my time. i’m failing probably because your teaching sucks.”

as you start to storm out, he speaks up. “i’m going to have to clean that filthy mouth of yours.” he smirks. “teach you a much-deserved lesson, then afterward you can see if my teaching still sucks.”

you pause in your tracks, face turning beat red as you slowly turn back around. “w-what?”

he motions you to come over with his finger, and for some reason, you listen.

grabbing your wrist, he pulls you over his lap so you’re straddling him. again, you let it happen. you can’t help the wetness that starts to pool between your legs.

“you can admit it, you know,” he whispers, dragging his hand from your waistband to your mouth. he grazes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“a-admit what?” you stammer, shuffling in his lap which causes him to groan and hold your hips.

he chuckles. “deep down you want me to fuck you. i bet you touch yourself to the thought of me like a desperate little thing.”

you look away, face turning even redder than before if possible. “nuh-uh.”

“your face says otherwise.” his whisper shoots a chill up your spine as he starts to unbutton your shorts.

the way your fingers move quickly inside of you have your eyes shut with your mouth dangled open.

you were lucky enough to get a single dorm, so you can do whatever you want without being sneaky about it.

the way your legs are spread makes your fingers dig deeper, curling to hit the right spot. you grip onto your sheets tight, moans and other loud noises leaving your lips.

your previous orgasms make a mess below you or the back of your thighs, but you don’t stop. you’ve been at this for almost an hour because your mind is only focused on one thing.

your lecturer.

professor sturniolo.

“shit.” you pant, your orgasm building for the nth time. you let go of the sheets to massage your breast, pinching at your nipple from time to time.

you whine. “just like that.”

legs shaking, your fingers get coated with yet another orgasm, but you wish it wasn’t your fingers.

you wish it were his.

your shorts are now on the floor, along with your shirt, underwear, and bra. chris still has his clothes on except for his pants.

hovering just above his tip, your lips move in sync with each other. his tongue fights yours, and the erotic sounds of you two kissing fill your ears.

his hands rub along your back before spanking you hard, ruining the intimate moment. you pull away to gasp.

“sit,” he demands, mouth agape as he looks down to watch you try to sink onto his dick.

you grunt from the pleasurable pain, stopping just about midway. he’s probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. “it’s not gonna fit.” you whine.

“i’ll make it fit.”

with that, he grips onto your ass, hammering up into you without being able to adjust first.

you grab onto his shoulders for dear life. you moan uncontrollably, the feeling of him raw inside of you making you grin like a fool.

you’ve been wanting him to do this for a very long time.

“look at you.” he starts, smacking your ass to have you jolt. “having the professor you allegedly hate balls deep in you.”

“i-i do— ha-ate you.” you struggle to get out, a hand landing on your asscheek again.

“is that so?” he mocks, waiting for you to talk back but instead you moan even louder. he nods. “that’s what i thought.”

he bites his lip, looking at the way your tits bounce rapidly and at the bulge in your belly, eyes widening slightly. he’d never seen something like that before.

“i should keep you around more often after class.” he groans, seeing your face of pleasure.

eyes rolled back, mouth hung open, hair disheveled and sticking to your forehead from sweating.

“you make a pretty little cocksleeve.”

that sentence makes you clench around him, your body starting to quiver from the overwhelming feeling. “ngh— feels so go-od. y-you make me feel s-so good.” you whimper. “wanna cum!”

“not until you apologize.” he tuts, grabbing and then spanking your ass. “say you’re sorry, and i might let you cum.”

you whine, his cock now kissing your g-spot more than it did before. “i’m s-sorry.”

“for?”

“for— mm!” you squeal. “for being b-bad.”

“and?”

“and-and—” you can’t finish because of the sudden clear liquid squirting out of you, now making your pussy squelch more than it was before. your back arches even harder, your brain all dazed and dumb from the overstimulation.

you start to lose stability from being too weak, so chris has to hold you by your arms.

he groans, shaking his head at the terrible mess you are making. “come on. you can do it.”

tears spill from your eyes, sobs running past your lips. “a-and for t-talking back. fuck!”

his dick twitches inside, his thrusts getting sloppy. “i hope you’re on the pill because i’m going to fill you deep, baby.”

you can only make sounds, so a high-pitched moan echoes throughout. you’re seeing stars the closer your orgasm approaches before it finally snaps and you’re smearing the ring of white around his dick.

he doesn’t stop, causing your body to twitch in his grasp as another orgasm builds since he’s still fucking deep to your g-spot.

“close again?” he laughs fake. “scream for me. let people know how much of a slut you are; letting your teacher use you to get a better grade.”

your body slowly starts becoming limp, eyes fluttering closed as you moan.

he spanks you for the last time, not caring that his job is on the line.

“louder. they can’t hear you.”

screaming this time, you cum once again when he holds you down on his shaft. you collapse onto his chest, quiet sobs leaving your lips as you feel his cum start to fill you.

he peppers kisses on your shoulders, peeking over them to grab a pen and clicking it open. he scribbles over the previous grade on your essay to write a new one.

A+

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @catalina-island @mbsbaby @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopeno1

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 || 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭

— pairing: logan howlett x plus size mutant!reader

— summary: who knew the key to scaring away the big bad wolverine was a kiss?

— warnings: angst that i have no idea how to describe, heartbreak :/, miscommunication that is quickly rectified, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, horribly described plant ability (forgive me).

— wc: 664

⋆ a/n: OH ME OH MY!!! i haven't written for a new character in so long! it's so refreshing!! forgive me if logan is a bit ooc and a lot of things probably don't make sense, i'm still in the process of watching the movies so i tried to keep things as vague as possibly aside from the spoilers i've been given! i have fallen so deeply in love with this man so he will definitely be making an apperance on this acc more! ty for your request! @hicanivent

masterlist | AO3

You never thought in all your years of living, you would be the one thing that managed to scare away Logan, and all it took was a kiss.

Maybe it was your fault or possibly the tension that had surrounded the two of you since you had joined the mutant school as another professor.

Either way, what was done is done, and you couldn’t sleep.

You stared up at your roof which was decorated with all sorts of plant vines. Though you were a mutant as well, your ability was minor. You were able to manipulate plants; you could make them move, grow, or wilt. It was nothing too impressive, but the children enjoyed your gardening class.

Gardening wasn’t the only thing you taught, there was also the history of different herbs and species of plants and how they were used throughout time. 

That’s where your dilemma of insomnia lies. With an aching heart and an active brain, essays sat delicately on your desk in your classroom, and you were contemplating on whether or not you should just grade them. The kids weren’t expecting them back anytime soon, but what else were you to do?

A part of you is afraid that maybe you’ll run into Logan stalking through the halls like he does sometimes when his brain gets too loud. It was like he always had something to run from, and somehow he’d always find himself knocking on your door at all hours of the night. Sometimes he wouldn’t even talk, just sit there and find comfort in your presence.

You weren’t ashamed to say that you’re worried about him, but Logan was probably the most stubborn man you had ever met, so if he didn’t want to do something, you couldn’t force him. Sometimes you wish you could.

You threw your blankets off of your body, sitting on the edge of the bed and held your head in your hands. You felt the exhaustion seeping into your bones and you let out a prolonged sigh.

A hesitant knock on your door pulled you out of your tired stupor, your head shooting up in alarm.

You honestly thought it was one of the kids, definitely not a very shaken up looking Logan.

A very bitter part of you wanted to turn him away, but a very extremely soft part of you – the part that was in love with him – led you to open up the door wider with a small encouraging smile on your face.

He looked unsure for a moment before breaking through the threshold. 

“I’m sorry.”  Was the first thing he had said before you even had a chance to turn around after shutting the door.

He was standing in the middle of your room, the midnight glow shining through your window casted an enchanting shadow against the naked skin of his arms that was exposed by his classic plain white undershirt. 

You don’t know how you managed to speak through the dryness of your throat.

“It’s okay.” You spoke quietly, looking up at him through tired eyes. “No it’s not.” He denied. You approached him slowly before you cupped his cheek. “But Logan, it is.”

Your words had a plethora of meanings behind them, that you forgive him, that you were waiting until he was ready. 

You stare at each other for a moment, his large battle worn hands rest on the plumpness of your hips, and the supernatural warmth of his body sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“If I kiss you, are you going to run away again?” You joke, breaking the intense atmosphere. 

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips ever so slightly. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around this time.”

Logan doesn’t give you time to retort because he had already found himself kissing you, the scruff of his mutton chops scratching at your cheeks ever so slightly. It tickled and you giggled, smiling into his mouth.

You felt him smile too.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[marypaol]

Flowers Upon Your Head

Draco x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader officially crowns the Slytherin Prince of Hogwarts, but what she doesn’t expect is to be crowned his princess. (Not real crowns, but made of flowers.)

Warnings: Talk about praising someone, like hailing them, self doubts in academic work, nothing else I know of.

Sorry if it’s too short; but it’s gotta be one of my favorites besides “Dear Draco”.

Dear Draco

Masterlist

Request Requirements (they’ve been updated!)

The sky was bright blue, sun rays shining bright across all the land of Hogwarts, showcasing the wondrous school that held many intelligent students; now either learning more knowledge or taking their assigned time off.

Two green robes were taking the second option to their best advantage: staying outside in the fresh air and catching up on work.

The both lay on the grass by the Black Lake, the boy leaning against the tree trunk and the girl sitting criss cross next to him.

The boy, platinum blonde hair and known as the bully of the school, had his Potions homework in front of him on his lap. His quill scribbled left and right as he wrote an essay.

The girl, known as the most innocent person in the world who wouldn’t hurt a fly, was previously done with her homework and is now fiddling (or, at least, that’s the word Draco would use to describe what she was doing) with flowers in her hand, tying the stems together to make something the boy didn’t know.

She was well concentrated until she heard a groan escape the boy, her eyes moving from the flower stems to him, raising an eyebrow questionably.

He didn’t look up as did she, instead he was having a glare contest with the paper as he tapped his quill quite frustratingly.

“What’s another word for fragile?”

She thought for a moment, going back to the plants in her hand once she discovered his groan was the reason of nothing serious.

“Delicate? Brittle?” She asked once figuring it out, fingers slightly burning from now finishing the tie of the stems, the nectar from the flowers getting on her fingertips as the stems were tightly wrapped around her hands.

He hummed. “Brittle is good.”

She smiled soft, glad she could help in some way. “Is the essay coming along nicely?”

He chuckled. “With the amount of skill I have in the writing spectrum and your vocabulary, I think it’s going quite well.”

She rolled her eyes this time, knowing he was being sarcastic with the statement he said about himself.

“Dray, don’t worry; I read it during lunch and it looked fine so far. That is if you didn’t ruin it with what you call last minute edits.”

Her teasing tone grabbed a smirk from him that she didn’t see.

She wasn’t mindful of the next occurrence because she was in fact focused on the finishing touches of her crown, but his ears turned from pale to a soft pink color at the nickname.

He scoffed instead to cover it up even though she didn’t see it. “Doubt it.”

She sighed, knowing there was no use in trying to convince him the work was good grade worthy.

He suddenly slapped the paper down in front of her on the grass. “How does this look?”

Despite the aggression he showed in his actions she could hear a little anxiousness in his voice. He was nervous for her reaction.

She still had the flowers in her hands so she didn’t touch the paper in fear of getting things on it, so instead of holding them in front of her she moved them so they were by her shoulder and she looked down at the paper.

Draco’s handwriting covered the paper, perfect cursive with soft swoops in the letters forming great work.

Her eyes scanned it as she read, taking in the information he provided.

She hummed in satisfaction. “Very nice, Dray. Very nice.”

She smiled at him as he took the paper back, this time noticing the pink tint on the tip of his ears.

“You okay?” She asked, oblivious to the reason for his flush.

He nodded, swallowing thickly.

She hummed again, turning her body fully to him. “Don’t worry! Snape will love it. I see it now,” she started, pretending to look of into the distance like she was dreaming. “An ‘Outstanding’!”

Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Wouldn’t go that far with it but whatever.”

She scoffed at his negative mindset and, wiping her hands on the grassy ground to get rid of the nectar, grabbed the crown she just previously made. She then turned the scoff on her face to a soft reassuring smile.

“Well, whatever you may think, I think it was wonderful and the good grade I know you’ll get is well deserved.”

She ended her sentence with softly placing the crown on his platinum head, the soft white petals perfectly matching the mob of hair he held.

Draco’s eyes moved upward as if he would be able to see the flowers on his head. The girl laughed, then she smiled once again.

“All hail the Slytherin Prince.” She joked. She expected another eye roll but instead received a soft smirk coming from the corner of his lips, a small chuckle escaping him.

She then moved to sit next to him, their shoulders brushing and cheeks flushing.

His soft looking hands reached out and using his long fingers pulled flower after flower out of the tall grass, each stem producing a satisfying snap when they broke.

Although she kinda felt bad for the flowers, she knew that the roots were still planted into the ground, so that gave her reassurance knowing they’d grow back again.

Still she watched as his own hands messily tied the stems together almost just like she did. When he was finished, his arm reached up as he placed it on her head, the weight of it slightly flattening the top of her hair.

He then leaned in, brushing his nose on her cheek; her face turning a soft tone of red. His head turned so his lips touched her ear lightly. The touch was barely felt, but it was there.

“All hail the Slytherin Princess.”

He whispered it, making the meaning much more meaningful. A soft chill went through her, a warm sense of comfort and nervousness at the same time racing down her spine.

“How’d you know how to tie it?” She asked curiously to hide the nervous warmth flooding through her. She felt his cheeks spread into a smile.

“I watch you, loves; much more than you think.”

Her face flushed as his finger gently booped her nose.

He chuckled low right in her ear. “Aww, don’t get flustered loves; just giving my princess the praise and recognition she deserves.”

Wait.

‘My Princess’?

Thank you for reading! 📖

[fruittt-punchhh]

Pop My Cherry!

all parts

Synopsis: your dad’s best friend is none other than Toji Fushiguro, and you can’t help but wonder what he could do with his hands.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x reader. Choso Kamo is mentioned, not a major part of the story.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! afab! reader, fem! reader, dad’s best friend! Toji, suggestiveness, cursing, inexperienced (ish) reader, reader is a virgin but has done things ya know, reader smokes weed, alcohol usage, pet/affectionate names, no smut yet 🫶

Word Count: 2.2k-ish

Notes: friends!!! This is my first ever smut! Pls be nice🫶 if you have any suggestions, comments, advice, PLEASE feel free to let me know!! I hope you enjoy hehe. (filthy smut if you’re down for that in pt. 2 trust) excuse any typos, proofread a bunch but I’m also human. 💖

It had been a terribly long week already, and it was only Thursday. You were on spring break from university, and you had spent most of the week catching up on overdue assignments.

You were staying with your father, as well as your brother, and your father’s best friend. He had a condo at the beach that wasn’t too far from your university, so it worked out well.

You had just finished your final essay for philosophy 200, closing your laptop with a snap! as you rub your eyes. It was nearing 3:30 a.m. but you still felt so much residual stress from the paper. You had a joint ready and waiting for you, and a hit or two couldn’t hurt, right? Enough so you could relax, maybe grab a snack, and hit the hay. You open your bedroom window, creeping out onto the balcony to let your worries fade away.

————————————————————————

You throw your leg over the window sill, trying to keep your balance. You lowkey had the munchies so you head to the kitchen before you retire for the night. Until you are met with a surprise.

Your father’s friend (you think his last name was Fushiguro?) has been gone all week for “work”. You noticed him coming in at odd hours of the night, looking worse for wear.

“What are you starin’ at, doll?” Toji says as he looks for a shirt in the laundry room.

You feel your cheeks turn red as you try to quickly avert your eyes. You wore nothing but a large t-shirt as you crept into the kitchen, hoping you wouldn’t wake your father.

You thought you heard Toji come in maybe an hour earlier, but you couldn’t know for sure. Here he stood, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a small towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair was dripping down his back and he still looked as if he was radiating heat from the shower he just took (or was that you?) It was all of a sudden much too warm in the kitchen for your liking.

“S-sorry, I was just grabbing a snack. I’ll be quick,” you stammer. You had only ever seen Toji a few times, and you didn’t remember him to be this… attractive? You didn’t know if that was even the right word. In this moment, you felt attracted to him, sure. But you also felt small and helpless. As if he could pierce through you with his gaze alone. You truly didn’t mean to stare, but you also didn’t expect anyone else to be in the kitchen at 4 a.m., either.

He interrupts you with a smirk, “What’s the rush? It’s y/n, right? Grab me a beer out of the fridge while you’re at it, girl”

If you thought your cheeks couldn’t be any redder, you were wrong. You felt the crimson blush cover your ears as you turned around to look for a beer in the fridge. There was a (beer brand here) in the back on the bottom shelf. You tried to bend at your knees as to be discreet, but you could have sworn you heard Toji clearing his throat as you did so.

Toji slipped on a pair of black boxer briefs as you grabbed him a beer like the sweet girl you are. He felt as if the wind was knocked out of him when he saw you bend down, searching the fridge for his drink. Call him crazy, but he could’ve sworn you weren’t wearing any panties. He quickly ran the towel through his hair, trying to ignore the rush of blood he felt surging to his dick.

You grabbed the beer, as well as an apple for yourself. You walked over to Toji, and he took the beer from you with a ‘thanks’. He popped off the cap with his molars and took a big swig. You watched as the beer dripped down his chin and over his adam’s apple. You also noticed the scar covering his pretty lips.

Your eyes wandered as he finished his beer surprisingly quickly. He would usually come home covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and sometimes blood. Apparently, underneath the dirt and grime was a body that was sculpted by the gods. Everything about him was so big. His huge tits pecs and his ripped abdomen. His biceps were bigger than your head and his hands, oh god, his hands. They were riddled with callouses and he had short, bitten nails. His fingers were so thick and you started to imagine what it would be like to feel them on your body.

Your temperature rose as the lewd thoughts entered your mind. This is your father’s best friend! Although he was a a few years younger than your dad, he was still much too old for you. Not only that, but you were still (unfortunately) a virgin. And not for a lack of trying! You were double majoring in psychology and philosophy, so most of your limited leisure time was spent smoking to relax, or hanging out with your small group of friends on the weekends. Sure, you had masturbated plenty of times, and you’ve given the occasional blowjob. But you’ve never quite found the right person at the right time to go all the way with. You never cared much about the label ‘virgin’ until now, feeling like you might have been missing out.

Now, you were standing in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning thinking about what this man could do to you with just his fingers. The thought alone had you squeezing your thighs together, trying to give yourself any relief from the problem you’ve created.

“You know it’s rude to stare, right y/n? Especially after I asked you a question, doll”

Yet again, he’s caught you off guard. I mean seriously, how old were you? You felt like a teenage boy who had just seen his first pair of tits. You need to pull yourself together so you can get out of here as soon as possible. You didn’t know how long you would be able to hold it together without making it quite obvious that internally, you were aching.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I was lost in a train of thought, I-I guess. What was the question?” Hopefully he doesn’t catch on to your half-lie.

Toji pulls a black compression tee over his torso, giving you a moment to collect yourself finally. He throws the beer in the trash and steps into the light of the kitchen alongside you.

He flashes a toothy smile at you, “You should watch that language. Pretty girls don’t go around saying things like that. And I asked you what the hell you were doing up so late.”

Pretty girls? Did you hear him correctly? He could just be saying things to get you to squirm, and if that was his goal, it was working all too well. You hope his smile was out of politeness, but you knew enough about Toji from your father to know that this man did not have a polite bone in his body. It seemed almost as if he was teasing you?

“S-Sorry about the language, I’m just tired. I’ve been working on my philosophy paper for the last few hours and I just wanted a snack before I went to bed,” you admitted truthfully.

Toji rolled his eyes, smirking at your statement, “God, that sounds so fucking boring. I’m surprised you finished it, I woulda given up hours ago.”

You smiled at his honesty. You knew that your paper topic ‘the perception of personal space’ and your other assignments on morals and judgement were not everyone’s cup of tea. “It’s actually quite interesting, it’s about the concept of how one perceives personal space, but I definitely wanted to call it quits a few times. I’m just glad I can sleep in tomorrow.” You admit with a grin. Despite his blasé attitude, a part of you thought he might actually be listening (at least a little bit).

All he heard was bla bla bla. It seems interesting enough, if you have absolutely nothing else going on in your life. How could you even write two sentences on personal space, let alone an essay? “If it’s that fucking interesting, then why are you in here looking like a walking corpse? Have you seen those bags under your eyes? You need the sleep more than I do, hun.”

Well damn. You didn’t think it was that bad, especially not enough for some old man to point out. You had been staying up most nights trying to catch up on your work, and you could sleep in anyways. But each morning you found yourself awake at 7 a.m. on the dot, still cursed by the rigidity of your usual school routine.

“I’ve just been behind, so I’m trying to catch up while I have the free time.”

Toji peers at you and scratches his head, “Why the fuck are you doing school work on spring break, anyway? Aren’t ya’ supposed to be at the beach getting wasted with your girlfriends?”

While you admit that would be fun, there was just no time for it this year. You were in the last semester of your senior year, and you were graduating with top honors. You had to keep up the good work so you could hopefully be accepted into graduate school in the fall.

“I mean it’d be fun sure, but smoking is more my thing anyways. I like relaxing after all my work is done, so I’d rather stay here and get caught up while I can, ya’know?”

How cute. Look at you trying to be a good little student. It would almost be admirable if it didn’t make his stomach churn at how sickly sweet it was.

“That’s good, doll. Keep it up and you’ll be making big bucks just like me, yeah? What are you wanting to go to school for anyways, to be a fuckin’ therapist or some shit?”

Everyone thought you wanted to be a therapist, but truth be told, that profession couldn’t be more off your radar. You had enough problems of your own to deal with, and you certainly didn’t need to hear other people’s on top of that.

“I’m not going to school to be a therapist actually; I really want to be a professor one day. What do you do for work anyways? You always look like you just came home from war or some-“

He cuts you off before you can land a joke at his expense. Toji’s profession wasn’t the best topic for conversation, given that his line of work was very hush-hush.

“You’re cute. Next question.”

Cute?? At this point you felt like he was toying with you. But you did have another question for him.

“How come I can’t say ‘shit’ but you can say whatever you want? I’m grown, aren’t I?”

Toji shifted towards you. You stood in the door frame between the kitchen and the hallway, your apple untouched. You were too busy thinking of what to say next to the large, burly man that was suddenly peering over you. He came to the doorframe, throwing one hand on top of it. At this point, he was towering over you. His shadow cascading over you as you felt yourself shrink into the background. Toji glared at you with his velvet green eyes and a smug grin was plastered across his face. You felt his hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your neck was strained as you attempted to make eye contact with the taller man.

“Can’t you hear woman? I said pretty girls don’t go around saying shit like that. Do I look like a pretty girl to you?” He says as he inches closer to your face. You could smell the beer wafting from his mouth. But the smell was quickly overrun by the rest of him. He smelled like pine, cheap liquor, and…cinnamon? Suddenly, the grip on your chin tightens. His hands are so large, he’s even starting to squish your cheeks, making you look like an absolute fool underneath him.

“I asked you a question, princess.”

The name throws you off guard, but for some reason, you’re not upset.

“S-sorry, no y-you don’t look like a pretty girl. Of course not, m-my bad.”

“That’s what I thought, y/n.”

Toji spits as he releases his grasp on you, standing straight and stretching his arms as he lets out a yawn. He smelled the weed all over you and could tell how flustered you got from your little interaction. He grabs the apple from your hand, taking a huge bite which in turn means you only have about half an apple left. He hands you back your snack, pats your head then saunters over to the couch, plopping down with a grunt. He grabs the remote and turns it to some wrestling show he always watched.

You look at him, confused. You weren’t even staring this time. You were simply dumbfounded at the interaction you two just had. Surely that can’t be it, right? He’s just going to watch tv after he had you literally in the palm of his hand? (and he ate half of my fucking apple)

You move to turn the lights off, and you put your apple in the trash. Your appetite for food was long gone. You quietly walk out of the kitchen into the dim hallway. Toji calls your name, startling you.

“Sleep tight, doll.”

pt. 2

[im-a-wonderling]

Clumsy, Clumsy ~ George Weasley

This is part two of Is It Still Punishment if It Was Worth It?, so be sure to read that first!

Warnings: bullying

Word count: 2.6k

“Don’t make the mistake of forgetting your essay on Angel’s Trumpet Draught for next class,” Snape said in his cool snarl, the dim shadows of the potions classroom throwing sinister shadows onto his face. “I expect no less than 24 inches of parchment.” After letting his words sink in, he sat at his desk. “Dismissed.” 

The other Potions N.E.W.T.s students shoved their textbooks into their bags, chatter filling the air as they filed out of the chairs, leaving their cauldrons where they were. 

As I slowly placed my ink bottle into my book bag, I kept my eyes on Cassius Warrington, a massive Slytherin in my year. He had a handsome face, to be sure, but it was his recently updated status as a member of the Inquisitor Squad that I cared about. 

Before my detention with Umbridge, I didn’t concern myself with the Inquisitor Squad. Their blatant Slytherin favoritism added with my natural rule-following tendencies made any concern of them irrelevant. But now, thanks to my detention last night, I’d been thrust into the spotlight, and I couldn’t count on that combination any longer. I couldn’t rely on them to simply take away House points either, because taking points away from Slytherin would punish them as much as it would me. They would likely find other, more creative avenues of punishment. 

“Y/L/N,” said a cold voice. 

“Yes, Professor Snape?” I said, looking up to see the potions master looming next to me. 

“Do you have a reason for loitering in my classroom?”

I immediately put my bag strap over my arm, gathering my parchment and my textbook into my arms. “No, sir, sorry, sir.” I ducked my head and shuffled out of the classroom, subtly glancing both ways before following the rest of the students up the stairs to the Great Hall for lunch. 

I only made it five steps.

BANG!

I fell forward, only managing to catch myself before my nose hit the edge of a stair. The contents of my book bag, however, were not so lucky. The thuds of my books, the flip of my rolls of parchment, and the crash of my inkpot created a symphony of chaos, but the only encore was laughter. 

“Clumsy, clumsy,” said a gruff voice. 

I looked up into the leering face of Warrington. Cheeks burning, I reached for my wand to clean up the mess and hurry past, but it’d been in my book bag and was now likely among the mess. 

“Don’t go and do anything stupid,” warned the voice of Pansy Parkinson, who flanked Warrington on one side with her arms crossed and her nose in the air while Gregory Goyle stood on Warrington’s other side, a menacing smile on his face.

I lifted my hands, showing I meant no harm. 

Warrington’s mouth spread, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth with such malevolence, he looked like a bloodthirsty beast. “Aren’t you going to clean up your mess?” Pansy giggled, looking thrilled at the prospect of watching me collect my stuff. 

They wanted to see me humiliated?

Fine.

When one’s greatest care isn’t pride, it costs nothing to grovel. 

Staying on my hands and knees, I grabbed my empty book bag. My copy of Magical Drafts and Potions had fallen open to reveal a picture of Arsenius Jigger, the author. I reached out for it. A black dress shoe nudged it out of my reach. I crawled forward another step, reaching again, and again it was pushed out of reach, this time accompanied by derisive laughter. 

The third time, the black dress shoe didn’t intervene, allowing me to pick up my potions textbook. After hesitating, I picked up A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration without any intervention from my spectators. And my rolls of parchment. And the few wayward quills. 

Soon, the only thing on the stairs beside my knees was the puddle of ink that was gradually flowing down to the bottom of the staircase. If I could just find my wand, I could clean it up with the Scouring charm.

I looked up to see Warrington twirling a thin hickory stick between his fingers. 

My wand. 

“Oh, d’you want this back?” Warrington asked, feigning as if he’d just realized what he was playing with. 

A show, I reminded myself, give them a show. “Please,” I said, infusing my voice with panic. I considered making my chin tremble but decided that was the wrong kind of pathetic to pretend to be. 

My wand froze. “Clean up the ink first.” 

Mimicking desperation, I looked down at the puddle, as if I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do. Then, I slid my cloak off my shoulders, dabbing at the black cloud. The house elves would be able to clean the ink easily, it was only a momentary situation. I was thankful I left my potion ingredients in the potions room, otherwise it might be frog livers that I was cleaning instead of ink. 

Finally, I stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding my dripping cloak with one hand and my bag with the other, looking up at the deviant expressions far above me. “Can…can I have my wand back?” I asked timidly. 

“Put your cloak back on.”

I lowered my gaze to the floor to contain my glower at Pansy’s order. Slowly, I set down my bag and threaded my arms through the arms of my cloak. Looks like the house elves would be cleaning my cardigan and skirt as well. I looked up at Warrington again with as pitiful an expression as I could muster. 

Warrington’s black dress shoe slid forward. “Kiss it.”

He wanted me to kiss his shoe? I looked down at the article in question. The dress shoes were fairly clean, even if they were clearly polished. The momentary discomfort of the taste of shoe polish in my mouth was tame compared to what I expected them to do, so I knew that wasn’t all he was planning. 

If anything, it was highly likely that when I got my face close enough to Warrington’s foot, he’d kick in my nose. 

Grimacing, I leaned forward, already brainstorming which spell would be best to set a broken nose. 

“What’s going on?” 

The familiar voice from behind me made my spine straighten, and for the first time, I felt the shame that Warrington so desperately wanted me to. 

“Nothing, Malfoy,” I spat before any of the others could speak. “Go away.”

“Malfoy,” Warrington said with a calculating smile, “come join us, won’t you?”

The inconsiderate blond climbed the steps to join the other three, and I glared up at him. “This doesn’t concern you.” Malfoy hadn’t talked to me since he reported me, though not for lack of trying. I didn’t want to allow a conversation until I’d formed some sort of response to his actions. 

Kneeling before Malfoy as he stood beside Warrington, I certainly had things to say, but nothing that would make the current situation any better. 

“Y/L/N just took a tumble on the stairs,” Warrington said, looking at Malfoy. “She was about to thank me for keeping her wand safe.” The four Slytherins all looked down at me, Warrington expectantly, Pansy nastily, Goyle bawdily, and Malfoy confusedly. 

I tried to remind myself that I was trying to keep my head down and of the merits of complying. But it was one thing to comply with mistreatment when it came from notorious tormentors; it was quite another to comply with mistreatment from a friend. And with Malfoy standing above me, all I wanted to do was curse the lot of them. 

“Kiss it,” Warrington hissed, “or I’ll go find that brother of yours and make him do it.”

I forced myself to hesitate instead of immediately throwing myself down onto the stone steps and obeying. While Warrington laid down the winning hand, I couldn’t let him know that particular hand could win all future games. 

I inched myself closer to his shoes.

“Is there a problem here?”

I closed my eyes, denying the possibility that the owner of that voice was interrupting this stand-off between myself and the Inquisitor Squad. But no, when I opened my eyes once more, the Slytherins had parted to reveal the boy at the top of the stairs.

George Weasley. 

“None of your concern, Weasel-bee,” Malfoy snarled. 

George looked down at me, kneeling on stone steps in front of four members of the Inquisitor Squad, and I knew he was planning something dumb. Go away, I ordered him with a stern look. Let me handle this.

George casually stepped down two steps, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the wall. “Y/N, I thought you were going to meet me in the Transfiguration classroom so McGonagall can help us with our project.”

Clever to mention a seventh-year class that George and I were in but Warrington wasn’t. Foolish to think that mentioning McGonagall would have any sway with this crowd. 

“I’ll be right there,” I said through gritted teeth, once again shooting him a look to tell him to get lost. 

Once again proving his inability to listen to basic directions, George walked down another step. “I think Y/L/N needs her wand for Transfiguration.”

Did he recognize my wand in Warrington’s hand? Or did he listen before he revealed himself? How long had he been listening? I wrapped my arms around my middle, feeling more vulnerable than I had before.

Warrington let out a short laugh. “It’s four against one, Weasley. Don’t think you’ll win.”

“Maybe I won’t win,” George replied, a cocky grin on his face, “but I can make your winning hurt.” George pulled his wand out. “And it’s four against two actually.”

I shut my eyes, ready to curse every Weasley ancestor for their descendant’s actions. George had clearly allied himself with me. It didn’t matter if I accepted the alliance because the damage was already done. When I opened my eyes again, Warrington, Pansy, and Goyle were still staring George down, but Malfoy was looking at me with a look of betrayal.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Warrington drawled. “And unless you want to make it another ten–”

George slipped his hand into his pocket and then raised his hand high. 

BOOM!

The area filled with green smoke and an odor so putrid, I had to cover my nose. A hand seized my forearm, and if it hadn’t had freckles on it, I would’ve clawed at it with my nails. The hand dragged me up the stairs so quickly, I nearly tripped.

Then, once I’d finally gotten my feet under me, the hand dragged me sharply to the right and into a cramped room I’d never seen before.

George slid whatever trap door it was shut, throwing us into darkness.

“Lumos,” George muttered, and a small light threw his face into view. 

“I cannot believe you–”

“Shush!” George leaned his ear against the door he’d just shut. 

“Warrington still has my–”

Without budging from his spot, George held up his hand, showing me my wand. “Now will you be quiet?” he hissed. 

I was getting real tired of getting shushed by George Weasley, but unfortunately, he was always in the middle of misguided heroics when he was doing so. And he was right, now that we were silent, I could hear the shouts outside the door.

I took the opportunity to look around the tiny space. It was about the size of a normal Hogwarts broom cupboard, but there were no cleaning supplies in sight. Despite the lack of contents, the stone interior sported no cobwebs or dust that I could see from the minimal light emanating from George’s wand. 

The voices, still audible, grew farther away, and I saw George relax a bit. 

“I didn’t need saving,” I whispered, grabbing my wand from George’s grip. “I had it all under control.”

George rounded on me. “Were you actually going to kiss his shoe?” 

So George did overhear the conversation before he disrupted it. Suddenly looking in his eyes was much more difficult than a moment before, but I didn’t look away, even as my face flamed. “It’s none of your business.”

His head recoiled, as if physically pushed by my words. “You were.” Anger transformed his face, which I didn't like half as well as the normal easygoing smile. “I can’t believe you’d just lie down and do whatever they say!” His words might not have accused me of cowardice, but his eyes did. 

I folded my arms, exasperated. “I weighed the possibilities and made an informed decision.”

“And so you allowed them to bully you?” George asked. 

“Just because I didn’t do what you would do doesn’t make my actions wrong!” I snapped. 

“Just because you thought about it first doesn’t mean it was the right decision.”

I scowled. “Just because you got to be a hero doesn’t mean that your decision was the right decision either!”

“You’re lucky I showed up when I did!” 

“Oh, of course I couldn’t have handled it myself, could I? Guess what, Weasley,” I stabbed a finger into his chest, “I’ve survived over six years at Hogwarts without you, and I will continue to do so without interference.”

“But now you’re not just trying to survive,” George argued, grabbing my hand and holding it away from his chest. “You’re trying to keep your brother safe at your own expense.”

“And there’s nothing you can do about that,” I fumed. “If I decide that submitting is the best way to keep Clem safe, I will let the every single student in this school walk over me and thank them afterwards for good measure!”

George let out a huff, but the longer we frowned at each other with blazing eyes, the more his mouth curled into a wry grin. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to restock on dungbombs and follow you around for the rest of the year.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress,” I replied acerbically, reaching out to push the door open. 

George grabbed my hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving.”

“Not yet.”

I fixed him with a look. “We shouldn’t linger for them to find us. We should go find a better hiding spot, a more secure one that isn’t so close.”

George’s surprise quickly morphed into amusement. “You’ve never been in here before, have you?”

I didn’t like that he clearly knew something I didn’t. “No, why?”

“This door’s enchanted,” George replied. “If the room’s occupied, the door’s charmed not to open from the outside.” George’s words seemed dependable enough, but I didn’t trust the smirk on his face. It was obvious he found something amusing, but the source was not obvious. Unless he was laughing at me. 

“What is this place?” I asked warily.

George grinned, but it wasn’t his regular goofy smile where his whole face lit up with enjoyment. His lips stayed closed, and his chin dipped down slightly as he waggled his eyebrows. 

There’s only one thing that could mean. 

“You dragged me to a make-out spot?!” I shrieked.

The only answer was George’s shoulders shaking with barely repressed laughter. 

Ignoring the butterflies that spontaneously erupted in my stomach, I shoved the door open. “I’m getting out of here.” I stepped outside, eyes darting every which way to spy any enemies. 

“What, is snogging Warrington’s boot preferable to snogging a friend?” George called from behind me as I stormed towards the Great Hall.

“I don’t snog my friends!” I yelled over my shoulder at him, not bothering to turn around fully. 

Maybe I was imagining it, but as I climbed the steps to the Great Hall, I could’ve sworn I heard George say: “Well, that’s a bloody shame.”

-

Read the next part here!

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

[cherry-muses]

tom riddle x gn! reader: oneshot

<a/n: oneshot after the image! haven't written in a while so i lowkey feel like this sucks. ps: sorry i disappeared for like 5 months lol i had to graduate. >

tags: mentions of a difficult childhood, orphanage, bullying, hurt/comfort, fluff

He was sat across you, writing his History of Magic essay with his ever-so-neat handwriting. The only sounds you could hear were those of his quill scratching the parchment and of you turning the pages of your Potions textbook.

As Riddle wrote, his other free hand rested on the table, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that he had really pretty hands. Your eyes subtly scanned them and eventually landed on the sleeve of his robes… which seemed to be a little torn and frayed at the edges.

You smiled to yourself, knowing the exact spell required to make the sleeve good as new… secretly hoping that Riddle would give you one of his rare smiles when you did. Perhaps it’d make the boring study session slightly more entertaining, and the rather bleak winter evening more colourful.

You tentatively reached your hand to gently hold his wrist, and gave him a soft smile. “I could fix that… may I?” You asked, gesturing to the torn sleeve.

To your surprise, Tom did not give you even the smallest smile. In fact, he flinched and harshly pulled his hand away, giving you an accusatory glare at the same time. “I’d much appreciate if you wouldn’t disturb me when I’m trying to work. And I know perfectly well to take care of my own clothing, thank you.”, he snapped. “I think I’d much rather spend my evening with someone who isn’t so dull and irritating to the core.”

“I didn’t mean-”, but you were rudely cut off mid-sentence by Riddle slamming his textbook shut, stuffing it into his satchel and storming off, out of the library.

You were left sitting alone in the library, feeling an odd mixture of guilt, anger, and confusion, holding back tears.

It was the next evening, when you were approached by the dark-haired prefect again. You had been reading by the fireplace in the Slytherin common room when he came up to you, fists clenched at his sides in nervousness. “What do you want, Riddle?”, you spoke, rather harshly, as you sat up straight to face him.

“I am… sorry.”, he replied, voice strained as if it was taking him a great deal of effort to get the words out.

You slammed your book shut, tossing it aside on the couch in annoyance. “I am sorry too.”, you replied, not a hint of emotion in your voice.

“You’re sorry?”, he asked, frowning in confusion.

“For assuming we're friends.”

For a split second a look of hurt flashed across his sharp features, until, ever the Slytherin, Riddle schooled his expression to appear vaguely sad.

“I should not have spoken in that way to you.”, he begins.

“No, you shouldn’t have.”, you retort.

You are both silent for a few moments, and the air has a sort of charged tension which makes you feel like either one of you would be storming off at any moment.

It comes as a bit of a surprise, then, when he instead chooses to sit close to you on the black couch, the water from the Great Lake casting a greenish glow upon the two of you.

“I really am sorry. I must admit, out of sheer habit I had assumed the worst intentions out of you.”

Those deep brown irises of his conveyed a kind of sincerity you had never before seen in him. You hoped to Merlin it was genuine.

“It is no excuse but I’d like to…er, explain why I behaved in such a way. Not justify, just explain.”, he said, a request for you to kindly hear him out implicit in his words. You somehow found yourself nodding, silently urging him to continue.

“You know where I grew up. I much prefer to hide it, but somehow your… constant affection has gently coerced me into entrusting to you the things I wish I could hide even from myself. ” He pauses, sighing and staring outside the dungeon windows, into the depths of the Great Lake.

“As would be expected, the orphanage wasn’t made of money. They could hardly feed us twice a day.” He was practically avoiding your eyes now. “My wardrobe essentially consisted of the worn clothes people donated. And, well.” A pause. “My first time on the Hogwarts express, a group of Ravenclaws found it a good enough excuse to remind me of my inferiority… and throw a couple of assorted hexes my way.”

Realization dawned on you, and at once you took his hand in yours, gently caressing his skin with your thumb. “Oh…”

“Well, since then I’ve managed to handle such issues with reparation spells, but I suppose I missed my robe’s sleeve. Which caught your attention yesterday. And… and when you tried to fix it, I just...”

You could bear it no more, and without any warning he was engulfed in a hug. “Tom, I’m so so sorry. I should’ve known.”

“No, it is my fault, for comparing you to someone who was been cruel to me, when you’ve always shown me nothing but the complete opposite.”, he breathed out softly.

There was a look of steely determination on your face now. “Promise me one thing, Riddle.”

“Hmm?”, he inquired, far too occupied with staring into your eyes to bother with actual words.

“Next time you feel like that, please… please just talk to me.”, you request. “I hate when we hurt each other in such a way.”

“Anything you ask.”, he says. You beam at him and gently kiss his forehead

The rest of the evening was spent cuddling on that couch, whispering sweet nothings to one another and watching the fish swim by in the lake.

[gottagetback2u]

✰ stray kids as uni bfs!

warnings: mentions of food, too much boyfriend material, cause of death: uni!seungmin, inconsistent use of correct spelling

welcome to my first post! <3

-✰bang chan

uni!bangchan definitely… struggles :’) he stays awake till 2-3am every night, either doing homework or procrastinating and making music. thank god his roommate basically lives with their partner, because u get to stay in his dorm with him during these early mornings, urging him to stay on task so he can sleep.

u guys met at the gym!!! u were trying to get back into exercising after the spring break and he saw u on the treadmill. literally hearts in his eyes. like the shy guy he is, he waited until u were almost out of the door before asking “do u go to the uni around here?”

let’s just say he was giggling and kicking his feet when u offered ur number to him <3

bang chan credits u for every completed assignment! he loves that u are so willing to help him, even if he is embarrassed to ask sometimes. (it goes like, “babe.. ugh i’m so sorry but what the fuck does he mean by this?”)

he will get u breakfast from the campus cafe before all of ur morning classes. he says it’s his job as a boyfriend, even if he only got four hours of sleep! (one time he slept in and got u lunch AND dinner to make up for it)

-✰lee know

lee know is an interesting student to say the least. his electives are all “art 101” and “basket weaving” because those are the ‘easy’ classes (sadly, no college class is easy) though, surprisingly, he is very interested in his major classes! studious student.

his go-to look is glasses with a comfy hoodie and sweatpants. when u see him on campus u can’t help but stare. comfy bf material.

u guys always seemed to cross paths at the off campus grocery store! u happen to be picking up comfort snacks after crying ur eyes out due to stress :( he strolled down the same aisle as u, quickly recognizing the university hoodie u had on, staring longingly at what oreo flavor to choose with fresh tears in ur eyes.

“i like the java chip ones :)” after he saw ur tears, he bought them for u.

ur dates consist of: trudging along campus to classes together, movie nights with snacks in the oh so comfy twin sized dorm bed, and grocery store runs! he also loves to do sheet masks together! (just don’t tell anyone how soft he is for u)

studies come second to him. u come first <3

-✰changbin

a jock but not in the aggressive type way. he just wants to lift and pass his classes. (which he always does! nothing below a B- for binnie)

he is good with in-class work! whipping out assignments while the teacher is talking about the subject is light work for him. but homework… alone in his dorm…. his kryptonite. for some reason focusing is so hard in that situation!

when u first heard him speak in economics class, u didn’t expect him to be so sweet?? u sat a couple rows back, so good thing he couldn’t see ur constant staring. his smile, his biceps, his too-tight shirts, his everything.

group projects are ur guys’ weakness because you somehow always get put together. (not that u mind!) in ur third group project this semester, he bit the bullet and asked u out! he was so nervous that he made a whole google slide saying “will u go out with me?” he asked han to decorate it lol.

studying together is no easy task. ur talking about currency then suddenly in a sweet make out sesh! he said he couldn’t handle the “sweet” looks u were giving him.

really soft boyfie !

-✰hyunjin

my art student. what else would he major in?

you guys actually met in starbucks on campus! hyunjin tries to do essays in a cafe setting to “stay focused” (he really just wants to be aesthetic).

you work as a barista, and after taking his order, he couldn’t take his eyes off of u for the 2 hours he was there. he ended up sketching u instead of write his essay! shockingly, he was able to muster up the courage to at least ask ur major before he left (aka, rushed out and ran into the door).

you guys are the sickly sweet couple everyone sees on campus. u are always together!!! hyunjin wants nothing to separate ur hand from his >:(

of course, when he has freedom to choose for his big projects in his art classes, he always chooses something that reminds him of you. he doesn’t like painting portraits that much, so he will choose to paint ur favorite flowers, your first date scene, your hand holding his… yeah, he’s that type of boyfriend :’)

he despises his required classes, like english and math. he doesn’t understand it like he understands art, so he needs ur support!! please run ur fingers thru his hair when he’s whining about his weekly reading!

he loves ur relationship more than anything <3 he’s so happy he can spend his college years with u

-✰han

oh boy. how do we even start this.

i think he tries his best. he really does! he doesn’t want to be one of the few in his class failing, but he just doesn’t really grip onto learning the required subjects like english.

this is how u two met! u work for the university as a tutor, and han was required tutoring for english or else he would get dropped from the class :( he showed up to the tutoring session in an empty lobby in the main campus building, and as soon as he laid eyes on u, he cursed himself. he was supposed to be learning, how can he do that when he has the prettiest person in front of him!! :’(

even outside of ur sessions u help him all the time! he appreciates ur help so much, and of course he doesn’t want his partner to have to help him with his work 24/7, but u don’t mind at all.

his schedule is chaotic. wake up, go to class, go by the convenience store to get both of u snacks, come back to UR dorm, nap in UR bed, wake up when u get back from classes, walk around campus together, get dinner in the dining hall, then fall asleep at HIS dorm.

he always praises himself for choosing to live in a quad with his own room and praises u for working for the university so u get ur own dorm. “it’s like we knew we were going to date!”

he always shows his love and appreciation. power college couple <3

-✰felix

felix has the time of his life in college. he loves being independent, doing something new, and just taking it all in.

that’s why he decided to be ambitious his freshman year; getting a job right away at the campus cafe, and also continuing his hobby of dance by taking a freestyle dance elective!

u were also taking the elective class to try and get more in to ur passion for dance. u never felt too confident in ur skills, so what better way to improve than in a class with others that were learning too!

when felix walked in the room the first day of class, looking all professional in his beanie, oversized sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, u were immediately attracted… but also intimidated!! he must be so good (>:d) u guys actually got put as partners for ice breakers, then a partner project, then a mid-term project, realizing how genuine and sweet he is!!

let’s just say,, things got a lil close for ur projects. flirting was a given around him and kissing, definitely happened.

and even though his excitement for college was a 100! his grades… struggled to reflect that :( like others, college is hard to grasp sometimes!! u continued to help him and remind him that everyone is having a hard time too <3

another sickly sweet couple. he just can’t pry himself away from u!

-✰seungmin

i kinda feel like seungmin is like,, the perfect fit for uni boyfriend? he just gives off those vibes to me so much. (yes i am seungmin biased haha)

does he have all 100% in his classes? yes! does he procrastinate? hell yes…..that’s all he does. to try and help his problem, he wants to study with u! he thinks that this will help him focus more bc silence is always comfortable between u two. but it just ends up him playing some game and u watching, messing him up every time he’s close to passing the level.

if you guys have an in-person class together, he wants needs to sit by u. he doesn’t find it right that u don’t want to sit next to ur own boyfriend. how dare u actually want to listen to ur professor instead of engage in snarky side conversation the whole time >:(

he loves walking around campus late at night. not like, 2am but more like 10pm lol (cuz besides staying up for hw, i feel seungmin is an avid sleeper). after ur night class, he will meet u by ur dorm building and walk around, hands linked the whole time. this is the time where he’s affectionate and loves to talk about ur relationship aww!! it’s conversation like “i remember the first time i held ur hand”, and “we should have another takeout homework date in the library soon”.

i could literally go on and on about uni!seungmin bc it’s a perfect match ahh.

-✰i.n

high school classmates to college classmates! it might have been handy to know someone going into college…. if u and jeongin even knew who each other were.

“yang jeongin? he was in my homeroom? uhh-“

i.n thought that he didn’t need help going thru his first year. he wanted to be independent and make friends on his own >:( butttt with each passing day, adjusting to new classes and even his roommate moving out, he couldn’t even manage to talk to someone new for more than a minute.

u finally recognized him when u saw his academy hoodie he was wearing one day! u rushed to reach him before he entered the classroom, and when u two made eye contact… god jeongin thought the world stopped.

from then, u guys slowly started seeing each other more, than exchanging numbers, then hanging out! ur hangouts usually consisted of studying, but it always ended up in doing to the dining hall and eating together, staying in their right until it closed.

let’s just say, u both struggled in the homework department. but quizzes?? yang jeongin is, surprisingly, an academic weapon.

he loves quality time with u. staying up late, just being in each other arms and talking about nothing.

he will also most definitely require u to watch old minecraft videos with him. quality time right! :)

masterlist!

[harrysdaydream-tpwk]

part 1 - how you meet

summary: part one, harry and y/n meet for the first time. it isn’t smooth sailing, but shes intrigued.

warnings: none

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Fuck, shit!”, you swore, hitting the espresso maker, once and then again, when the only thing it did was to spew more steam at you, fogging up your glasses.

“You alright?”, one of your coworkers asked and you nodded, though defeated.

“You think you can take over preparing the drinks for me, while I’ll handle the register? If I have to fight this machine one more time, something will be broken and it will either be my hand or the coffeemaker.” You looked at him desperately, your hands folded together in a silent plea.

“Alright, alright”, he laughed, “Don’t want to call an ambulance because you couldn’t control your anger. At least I won’t have to deal with asshole customers anymore.” He passed you and you blew him a bunch of exaggerated kisses before sliding right behind the cash register, slightly more motivated to finish the rest of your shift than before.

It was unusually quiet for Friday afternoon, normally all of the tables would’ve been taken- from desperate college students trying to finish their essays to single mothers, hoping to rekindle their failed love life. Although the job was a pain in your ass and barely covered all the bills and loans you had to pay off, it always had something to offer for your personal entertainment.

But now, as you waited for something to happen, other than the few fifteen years olds throwing straws at each other in the corner booth, you felt terribly bored. Your elbows quickly found their way to the counter and you put your chin in your waiting hands, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.

The nameless indie music idling out of the speakers above your head lulled you in a state of trance as you stared at the passer-by’s outside of the store, the big glass front not sparing you any detail. Even your coworker, who was the only employee inside the store besides you, had sat down on a few cases of soda stacked together, blasting TikTok and its annoying sounds throughout the whole store, but in this moment you couldn’t care less.

Then, suddenly, you were ripped out of your daydreaming by the bell ringing above the door and you stood up fast, startling not only the newcomers, but yourself as well.

“Hey, welcome in. Is there anything I can get started for you?”, you asked, peering at the three men, who just stared for a moment, as if assessing the situation. Weird.

The place you worked at was in a small side street, away from the bigger crowds, with quirky names for almost all of the things you had on your menu, so you gave your new customers a second to understand and choose something from your assortment.

Before you could turn away and pretend to be busy, one of them spoke up, though quietly, you could barely hear him.

“Hi. Sorry, we didn’t expect such an enthusiastic greeting. Is there anything you would recommend?” His voice was deep and gentle and you couldn’t help but admit that he looked exactly like the kind of man you would usually go for.

“I don’t know”, you reply, your voice now back to its usual octave and enthusiasm- or rather the lack thereof, “I usually just get the Iced Caramel Macchiato.”

To this day, you still refused to read any of the actual names of the drinks out loud.

“I’ll take that one then”, the man said, smiling at you. You nod as you type his order into your register.

“Anything else?”, you asked, smiling your “customer service smile” as your friends jokingly called it and the other two men nodded, replying with their orders.

“Alright, will that be to-go or are you staying in?” You waited for a second while they looked at each other and thought to yourself “That question couldn’t have been that hard”.

Finally, the guy with the long, brown hair mumbled “To go, please.”

“Okay then, swipe your card whenever you’re ready. And I need a name to call when your coffee is done.”

“Harry”, the guy who spoke to you first replied and stepped forward, pressing his card on the card reader. You nodded satisfied.

You turned around briefly, to check if you coworker, Charlie, got the order. Pleased that he was already on it, you directed your gaze back to the front of the store. Startled, you reeled back. Harry, who was the only one still standing in front of the counter, was starting at you intently. The other two had fallen back, standing near the door, as if they were waiting- no rather watching out for something- or someone.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”, you inquired, observing how his shoulders rode up defensively. He was wearing a long, blue jacket, a hat and sunglasses and if you were honest, his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous. Paired with the black nike shorts, he looked a bit mismatched, like he was unsure whether it was warm out or not. You could’ve easily answered that question, seeing as you had been sweating profusely since you left your studio apartment this morning.

You were sure you looked disgusting, your uniform clinging uncomfortably to the body parts you most certainly didn’t want them to stick to, mascara probably smudged from the humidity from the steam that had been blowing in your face earlier.

How he managed to still look fresh, even with the thick jacket on was an absolute mystery to you.

“No, no, sorry. I like your button”, he answered, referring to the grumpy cat pin your mother had gifted you a while ago. It was ridiculous and cheesy, but it reminded you of home, so you wore it anytime you felt even slightly homesick. You debated telling him as much, but you weren’t up for much of a conversation, so you settled on a polite “Thank you.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Order for Harry?”, Charlie called and the man looked around, rather paranoid, as if he was scared someone was going to jump up from behind the counter any second.

“That’s me”, he said, still shyly smiling at you before turning towards the pick-up station.

“Have a nice day”, you called out sarcastically behind him and he waved, walking out the door, his company joining soon after.

You exhaled deeply and turned towards Charlie again, who suddenly squealed loudly. “Oh my God, what?”, you said, clutching your hand over your chest.

“Do you know who that was?”, he asked, excitedly, “Harry fucking Styles. And I think he liked you with all that staring he did.”

“No, it wasn’t. Was it?”, you asked disbelievingly. He nodded, “Oh, yeah. It was him. I’d recognize him anywhere. I think he’s actually having a show in town tonight.”

“But why would he come in here out of all places? I mean, we’re far away from anything slightly entertaining or fun.” You looked at Charlie quizzically.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “Maybe that’s exactly the point. What are the odds of getting recognized by hoards of fans in a small shop like this?”

“I guess so.”

You grabbed a wet cloth from the sink, starting to wipe down the counter, not able to shake the fact that superstar Harry Styles just walked into your workplace, however annoyed you might’ve been at that moment, it had felt oddly right and somehow meaningful. You touched the pin on your apron carefully, smiling at the chipped feeling of the plastic fading at the edges.

-

Two days later, the incident- which was how Charlie kept calling it, was nothing but a fun story you could tell your friends and something to be teased about by your coworkers. Yes, you had been kind of rude to him, maybe you could’ve been a bit nicer. Treat People with Kindness or whatever he always preached. But it was in the past now. It wasn’t like you would ever see him again.

At least that’s what you told the part of yourself that kept insisting that maybe he would return- the nagging voice that believed Charlie, who kept shooting you meaningful glances whenever one of Harry’s songs played on the radio.

You were in a middle of a lunch rush, the small room of the shop packed with people, when your wishful thinking suddenly became reality. Right in the middle, as if the crowd had split in two, he appeared. Or maybe he had just entered through the door like everyone else did and patiently waited in line. You couldn’t be sure.

“Harry, hi”, you greeted sincerely, when he approached the counter, “What brings you back?” You smiled ruefully, thinking about your last interaction.

“Hi. Slightly better mood today, huh?” So he had picked up on it last time. Your eyes travelled down his body quickly- you couldn’t help it, sue you. He was wearing a white button down this time, messily tucked in a light washed pair of denim shorts- although he managed to make it look stylish- and no sunglasses. His hair was hidden by a yellow crochet bucket hat. Cute.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know who you were and I wasn’t having a good day. What can I do for you today?”, you apologized.

“I think everyone deserves kindness, even if they weren’t popular. But it’s alright, can’t always be nice, especially in customer service. I get it, worked in a bakery for some time back at home.” He took his own shtick quite seriously you noted, but smiled politely.

“I would love to talk to you some more, but the place is packed right now. Is there anything I can get for you?”, you tried again.

“Yeah, yeah”, he chuckled, “I’ll get the Iced Caramel Macchiato again, it was really good the last time and also-“, he paused for a second, looking at your display of pastries, “One of the vegan carrot cakes, please.”

“Sure, anything else?”

“No, that’s all, thank you.”

You finish the transaction and say goodbye before tending to the next customer, a middle aged woman raising her eyebrows impatiently at you.

The rest of your shift goes by smoothly, with only a few minor incidents disrupting your flow. It all felt to good to be true, your interaction with Harry still in the back of your mind. The conversation had left you unsatisfied, craving more.

You didn’t know much about him, besides that he was Harry Styles and apparently currently on tour. He shared something with you and you couldn’t help but wonder if there would’ve been more if you had just let him talk. That’s what you reprimanded yourself for as you took of your apron and the shirt you wore for work in the locker rooms, pulling on a black hoodie with a nonsensical print on the front.

“I’ll see you tomorrow”, you yelled in the general direction of the store as you leave through the back door, a cigarette already waiting to be lit in your right hand. It was a bad habit and you were desperate to stop smoking- but on days like this it was the only thing keeping you sane.

“Hey”, a voice suddenly called and you shot up surprised, the cig almost falling out of your mouth. You took a quick drag before lowering it. Turning around, you spotted Harry of all people leaning against the wall of the back of your shop.

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?”, you asked disbelievingly, clutching your chest dramatically.

“Sorry, one of your coworkers told me what time you get off. They also told me your name”, he explained, peering at you with his green eyes. Fuck, why did he have to be so handsome?

“Stalker-much?”, you couldn’t help but ask, only half joking. You brought your cigarette up to your lips again, inhaling deeply, before blowing out the smoke through your nose- welcoming the rush the nicotine gave you.

“I just wanted the chance to have a conversation with you, Y/N”, he said, rolling his eyes, but smiling at the same time. It was weird hearing your name out of his mouth.

“Why?” He shrugged helplessly, observing you smoke for a second before answering.

“Fuck if I know. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, even on stage, and my friends kept teasing me. I’m in town until tomorrow, then I’m off to Cardiff.”

“Yeah, I get it. My coworker Charlie kept wagging his eyebrows at me everytime he saw someone wearing your merch. He was the one preparing the drinks for you.” You hoisted up your tote bag, which kept slipping of your shoulder.

Harry chuckled. “He did a pretty good job if I do say so myself. The Macchiato was really good. Cashier had some perks too though.”

“He’ll pass out if I tell him what you just said. But tell me more about this cashier. Were they cute?”, you flirted back, a smirk on your face.

“Oh, very. I was hoping it’d get her number by chance”, he tried as you threw the butt of your cigarette on the pavement, stomping it out with your checkered Vans.

“Well, you’re in luck. It’s not everyday an international pop-star asks me for my cell. Can’t resist your charm”, you said quietly. His shoulders dropped slightly, as if remembering his position in the world, but he caught himself.

Harry hands you his phone and says, “Just type it in yourself. It’s always easier this way.”

You nodded, taking his phone with clammy hands. What a weird, surreal world you were suddenly thrown into. The fact that he trusted you enough to just pass you his phone. The fact that he was standing opposite you, watching you, being interested in you. You wondered if this was all a dream you’d suddenly be woken up from.

But no one did. This was reality, you realized as you pressed the cellphone back into his waiting hand, brushing it with the movement. You looked at each other for a moment.

“The cute girl from the coffee place? Really?”, he asked and you giggled. Honest to God giggled. What has your life become?

Harry pocketed his phone, letting his hands hang loosely at his sides. “Well”, he cleared his throat, “I have to go. Rehearsals and all that. I’m already too late. I’ll text you?” He looked at you hopefully.

“Sure”, you answered, smiling softly, “I’ll be waiting.” You step closer, standing on your tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek- a barely there brush of lips, but he still blushed.

“I’ll see you around, H.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

well, this marks the first part of my first ever series on this account. i’m actually so excited to see what people think. don’t forget to leave a like& follow for more<3 stay tuned!

[herofics]

Dirty Dishes, feat Geto

A/N: Guess who’s venting again. I’m okay, and I’m hopeful that this is just a momentary slump, but things do kinda suck atm. I guess this would be a non-curse AU one, the reader is in university, Geto has already graduated and is working somewhere unspecified. The reader and Geto are not living together yet

You had been laying in bed, playing around on your laptop the whole day. You had opened a few of your school assignments, multiple times actually. You just couldn’t come up with anything for your learning diary, and the research for your essay wasn’t going well either.

“Screw this” you muttered and closed your laptop, getting up from the bed and placing the laptop on what was supposed to be your work table.

Nowadays, the table just seemed like a storage place for your dozens of water cups and bottles. There was also a rectangular empty spot on the table, next to all the bottles and cups, which housed your laptop. The rectangle was also devoid of the dust that had settled on every other surface of the room. You really needed to clean, but you couldn’t be bothered to.

Geto hadn’t been over to your place for about a month. You hadn’t let him, you were too ashamed of the state of your home. You had always gone over to his place, or you’d just gone out with him. You didn’t want to let him into your apartment, because of the state of disarray it was in.

You had been so preoccupied with your laptop the whole day, you hadn’t even noticed Geto’s texts. So when your doorbell rang, you had no idea who it was. You went to check the peephole and there he stood, your boyfriend.

“No no no no no, fuck” you groaned with a hint of annoyance in your voice.

You didn't want to let him in. Maybe you should just pretend you weren’t home? Your lights were on though, so he already knew you were there. You didn’t want to leave him standing outside either. You debated about it in your head for a moment, before deciding to see what he wanted. You didn’t really want to let him in, but you felt like you didn’t really have a choice. Maybe him breaking up with you over your disgusting living habits would finally get you to clean.

You opened the door, and found Geto carrying two bags of groceries that you hadn’t noticed when you had checked the peephole.

“Hi Suguru” you greeted as you moved aside so he could get in.

“Hey love” he smiled, setting down the grocery bags to take off his jacket.

“What are you doing here?” you inquired, as nicely as you possibly could.

“You didn’t answer my messages, so I decided to come see you. Plus, I thought I’d make you some food”

“That’s a nice thought” you sighed. “But I would have rather come to you”

Geto was growing a bit suspicious of what was going on with you. You were standing in the small corridor leading to the rest of your apartment, as if you didn’t want him to go past you.

“Is everything okay?” Geto asked with a worried look on his face.

“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting you” you tried to assure him, but you weren’t very convincing.

“Let me put these in the fridge, and we can talk, okay?” Geto said, pushing past you and walking further into the apartment.

You almost wanted to physically stop him, but you stopped yourself from reaching for him and just followed him into the kitchen quietly.

Geto hadn’t been to your place for a while, but he had to admit that he was surprised about the state of your home. He moved a couple of juice cartons out of the way, before setting the grocery bags on the table. He looked around the kitchen. Your sink and the counter next to it were full of dirty dishes and your table was covered in all kinds of trash, such as juice cartons and empty cups of yogurt.

“Oh love” Geto sighed compassionately.

You had managed to keep your crying quiet up to that point, but as soon as he said that, you just started sobbing, which made Geto whip around and pull you into a hug.

“I-I know it’s dis-it’s disgusting, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were having such a hard time. It’s not disgusting, it just happens sometimes, you have nothing to be sorry for” Geto comforted you as you cried in his arms.

You didn’t want him to see you like this. You could keep up appearances for a while, a couple of days even when you spent the night at his place, but you couldn’t take care of your home right now. You could barely take care of yourself.

Geto held you as you cried, and when you eventually calmed down and took a step back from him, he still held your hand.

“It’s okay love, I know it can be hard to take care of your home when you can’t even really take care of yourself, I’ve been there” Geto smiled gently.

“You have?” you wiped your cheeks with your sleeve as you gave him a bit of a confused look.

“Yeah, I guess I haven’t really talked about it, but I had a hard time around the time high school ended for me, so I do get what you’re going through” he said, rubbing circles on the back of your palm with his thumb.

“What helped you with it? I know I’ve been through this before and I feel like I should be able to deal with this by now, but I feel like it’s harder every damn time” you sniffled.

“Satoru helped me through it. He was already my best friend back then and even though he was really annoying and obnoxious, he did help me a lot” Geto explained.

“That sounds like Gojo to be honest”

“The annoying and obnoxious part, or the helping part?” Geto joked.

“Both?” you chuckled.

“There’s that smile” he said and placed a hand on your cheek.

You leaned your head into his hand and looked up at him lovingly.

“I’m going to start doing the dishes, you can help if you feel like it or do something else, but I promise I’ll help you with this”

“I can start by collecting the trash from the table. It’s easier for me to do things when you’re here”

“That sounds good to me” Geto said.

“Hey Suguru?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for helping me, I appreciate it” you said and kissed his palm that was on your cheek.

“Of course love” Geto smiled and pressed a kiss on your forehead, before stepping back and turning toward the mountain of dishes.

“Let’s get started” you smiled.

Things were always easier when he was around.

[chaseprice]

hi!! hope i’m not a bother. i just came across u and i wanted to ask something,,,

basically, i joined the life is strange fandom in 2018 so i never got to experience the pre-bts era, meaning i didn’t get to experience what rachel was like to the fandom back then or see the different interpretations of her.

i did some digging and i found some fan content of her from 2015-2016 & i’m absolutely infatuated with all aspects of the fanon version of her, especially her personality & how she looked. i totally wanna embody her. also the love is strange vn was so interesting to play, i love how she was written. i’d love to know more!

i stumbled across ur blog while i was doing my digging and i saw an old long post of urs saying how bts didn’t live up to the fandoms expectations, as almost everyone perceived her differently.

sorry for all the yapping LOL but what i basically wanna ask is,,, how *exactly* did the fandom perceive rachel back then (2015-2016). what were some popular headcanons for her? things you guys even considered to be canon? what were some of your own *personal* headcanons? (can be silly, realistic,,, just anything you thought resonated with her)

do you have any favorite arts from that time period that you thought really captured her? what were your hopes for the prequel/rachels character before it was released? what did you want to see in terms of story? was rachel’s style, appearance, & personality extremely different than what you expected? what did you expect?

i assume that rachels treatment in the fandom was different then than what it is now. whether it’s better or worse, i’m not sure. i was hoping u could answer that too😞. recently i’ve just been seeing constant hatred or lack of care for her character so i’m starting to think that if bts was written differently and based on the fandom’s interpretations instead, the hate now wouldn’t be this bad.

from my digging it seems like you guys had alot of fun sculpting rachel’s character on your own, and the interpretations were probably more realistic than what decknine put together.

anyway i’m sorry for the yapping essay on this random saturday, most old lis accounts are dead & i didn’t know who else to ask☹️. just trying to relive what you guys experienced the best i can. hope i’m not bombarding you with this. thank you so much if u respond !!

hiii u def did not bother me, i am not in a position to answer all of these questions, but although it makes me feel ancient, it's cute to see so much passion for rachel and pre-BTS fandom opinion, so i'll try answer some and for the rest (art, hcs, etc.) im just gonna have to direct you to my archive* (will continue under the readmore)

*(tumblr archive is so broken on mobile so you gotta go on pc for this, but also there's so many gifs from that time so it will Definitely slow down your browser). i was insane and 17 years old so like, just excuse all of the cringe content i guess. you can click tag and filter it by either #lis #rachel amber #amberprice or whatever to try and find stuff like art. and i got into lis sept 2015 so that's like, as far back as it will go, but i was fully lisbrained from 2016 through 2018)

to be honest, in alignment with pre-bts thought lmao, rachel is whoever you want her to be. there was less of 'this is a correct objective fact about her personality/history' and more 'yeah, this is an idea the fandom really likes and has become fanon, most likely because it is a nuanced and entertaining and realistic interpretation of what we have seen of her character in lis1' which means people whose opinions conflicted with that might've be contested/laughed at/unpopular, but they weren't wrong per se. there were plenty of people i'd criticise (and ridicule) back then for implying that this teenage girl was evil, and being a teenager myself back then, i'd call them morally reprehensible and cancellable and whatever, but tbh, as an adult now, i can just see that it was simply a boring interpretation of her character informed by misogyny

i'd disagree with the notion that fandom treatment of rachel's character was better before bts, back then there were plenty of people seemingly excited to characterise her as emotionally manipulative, a cheater, deserved what she got, etc. as well, bc tbh, the story did leave room for that interpretation, but it left room for so much more as well. i feel like bts just really locked in on a certain story they wanted to tell plot-wise, and didn't choose to explore a lot of the questions fans had about rachel as a person. it's hard to turn the ambiguity of a friendship turned situationship over a period of 4 years into a playable experience for an audience - so they didn't. regardless, it got people thinking about rachel more, putting a spotlight on her, hence increased attention both positive and negative. i feel like there's just a fundamental difference between what lis1 fans enjoyed about the potential for her character and how she related with chloe and the world around her, and what deck9 wanted to portray in bts (yes they hit the astrological headcanons, the charmingness, her rebellion, the emotional conflicts... but it personally felt hollow, contrived sometimes, i suppose). but there were a lot of people who loved bts (i enjoyed a lot of parts of it!). just, in my opinion, some of those were quite different people from who loved lis1, and with that wave it brought a lot of emotional immaturity to the fandom (like... ship wars, really? that was an insane change to fandom dynamics for me lmao, but maybe i was just spoiled by surrounding myself with people whose takes i respected)

anyway i highly recommend also that if you're hungry for that kind of content, read fanfiction on AO3 by the old fans - by Mogatrat (TON of rachel centric ones there), explosionshark and tippytypewriter, chicknparm (though Cusp is written post-bts, it's informed by pre-bts characterisations), vicepoint (me hehe), def many more good ones out there those r jus my friends so they come to mind first, e.g. i liked homecoming by kriegersan back in the day, but you could def find some more by sorting the lis ao3 page by kudos and reading the older ones that are highly rated featuring rachel. and lastly, my gf wrote a beautifully worded blog post called "The Assassination of Rachel Amber by the Cowards Dontnod and Deck Nine" which gets into some of this from a media crit perspective (not about fandom) in a very eloquent way thru comparison w twin peaks and i highly recommend that

rachel hcs that def started way before bts: skater rachel, stoner rachel, punk music listener rachel (but also like, fleetwood mac cranberries cocteau twins grungy hippy stuff rachel too), rachel's parents being distant and still living in california, curvy thick rachel, things that i've accepted as canon but were def created by diff people: bri explosionshark hc'd that rachel paid for chloe's sleeve, mogatrat (i think) hc'd that rachel initially went to get her nips pierced with chloe (that's a longtime fan hc now idk who started that one) but chickened out at the last minute, i think she also hc'd that chloe made the earring for rachel which is cute too

[voltstone]

i hAVE FIGURED OUT HOW TO FIX MY BLOG.

anyway so longer written-form content's gonna be easier to read now. >:) so i will give the links to my stuff, both essays and the fics i've written in this post.

some of the stuff i wrote a while ago. others are pretty new, like a violet essay.

so enjoy if you want (the keep reading will have all the links).

[Fanfiction]

they adopt a cat named floof | Wednesday

wednesday, for her girlfriend, gets a cat. she finds a way to bypass the “no pet” policy in order to do so. :)

Wenclair

stagger | Wednesday

Enid is her one exception, so Wednesday tries. Again, and again, and again. She gets it right, asking Enid to…not a date. Eventually.

Wenclair

just a bear (or some other wild animal) | Wednesday

“I’ve hibernated with some grizzlies. I know the difference." the story of the time when wednesday slept in a bear cave for a week. she was seven and knew what felt just right.

Back Again | Fallout 4

In other words, Piper Wright walked out of Diamond City with the woman written as the “View from the Vault.” Though, well, the city folk were quick to suspect that there was something else going on between them… And they weren’t wrong. So when Piper walked back into Diamond City without the woman, there was something wrong. Especially the longer she waited on the Publick Occurrences rooftop. Alcohol in her breath. Less shouting and interrogating for interviews. It was all just…wrong.

F!SS x Piper Wright

Bottom Bunk | LWA

With another Samhain Festival celebrated and slept off, Atsuko Kagari finds her room empty of Sucy and Lotte. Yet, she feels the warmth of another girl in her bed. And so a conversation is to be had.

Diakko/Dianakko

toxin | LWA

[toxin] - an antigenic poison or venom of plant or animal origin, especially one produced by or derived from microorganisms and causing disease when present at low concentration in the body. A definition, which, Sucy knows well. It’s why she doesn’t have a heart, nor any sense for what compassion can bring. Although, one night changes things, and maybe—just maybe—Akko proves Sucy otherwise.

Suakko

Sphynx | LWA

Sucy didn’t care about an hour of transformative magic, nor that it was supposed to be “fun” and all about “finding your inner animal.” Well, companion animal, which really meant cats and dogs because…magic. Or something stupid.  And Sucy was left cold and huddled underneath a curtain because she was this ugly naked chicken gremlin? …okay, maybe she did care a little bit.

Suakko

Burning a Cauldron | LWA

Chariot is always one to sleep in—which, frankly, irritates Anne to no end (being the early, responsible bird, after all). However…the early, responsible bird notices that this morning is different.

Finnelariot

She's a Peach, an Apricot | LWA

Amanda didn’t expect this. Lotte didn’t either. One burned of passion, a slip of carnality, yet not the words to reach the other so well-spoken. And the other, all the words in the world, from her books, yet not the body that could easily decipher what she wanted.

Amalotte

[Fandom Essays]

…so about that clementine comic: a (very long, sorry) essay | TWDG

Discussion on TWDG & canonicity, pre-comic full release

…about the clementine comic (again): why is she illiterate? | TWDG

Discussion on how weird the comic is about Clementine's knowledge and understanding of her own world (medically/medicinally and linguistically).

ERICSON'S WALLFLOWER: or bpd as a twdg fandom essay, & violet's analysis | TWDG

Exploration and deconstruction of Violet's character in regards to BPD, BPD as a disorder (with experiences pulled from my own), and how stigma gets in the way of understanding both.

Or or I am feral and am still frothing at the mouth over this character plz people appreciate violet 🥺🥺

[adorkablenerd]

How To Defeat MC

(Or how to Defeat The Great Mammon p.2 lol)

Bruh I haven’t posted any fics in so long, I’m so sorry y’all 😭 I’m trying to get back into the habit of writing again tho!  I hope y’all like it and I’m also gonna put the link to the first one of these right below this!

1st part

Mammon x MC (Gender neutral)

Words: 1372

MC couldn’t help but feel like Mammon was plotting something.  They had been a bit on edge ever since Mammon declared he would get his revenge on them.  That was over a week ago, and he hadn’t made any attempts yet. It’s not like MC had avoided him either, as they had still been hanging out regularly.  MC couldn’t tell when he was going to attack, but they started wishing he would just get it over with.  This was all they could think about as they were sitting on the couch next to the demon, watching a movie in his room.  

“Oi, MC!”  They jumped hearing Mammon's voice call out to them.  They realized that they had been spacing out for a good few minutes and didn’t even hear the first couple times he said their name.

“Y-Yeah?”  They looked over to the demon on the other side of the couch.

“Could you pass the popcorn, it’s on your side.”  MC looked down to the popcorn bag next to their leg on the floor.

“Oh, sure. Here.”  They handed it to him and tried to focus on the movie, but couldn’t help but get lost in their thoughts again.  They almost jumped again when Mammon’s hand touched their forehead, pressing themselves to the back of the couch in surprise when they realized how close he was.  

“Are you feeling okay?  Your face seems kinda red and you’ve been acting so jumpy lately?”  The genuine concern in his voice made them feel a bit bad for making him worry.

“Don’t worry Mams, I’m fine, just… thinking about the essay we have due next week.”  They hoped that was believable enough, and by look on the demon’s face, it seemed to be.

“Aaah I see, I wouldn’t worry though, you always ace those, you’ll be fine!”  He smiled and gave them a pat on the head.  MC closed their eyes and leaned into the hand, warm and comforting as always.  What they weren’t expecting was the demon’s other hand to randomly trace under their chin, making them move away from the touch with a quiet squeak.

“M-Mammon?!”  He smirked at their reaction, moving on top of them to pin them onto the couch.

“You didn’t think I forgot about my promise, did ya?”  MC could already feel the giggles building up in their chest, of course they didn't forget, it’s all they had been thinking about for the past week.

“I figured all that waitin’ you made me do, I should return the favor.  That’s the real reason you’ve been so jumpy around me, right?”  As he spoke from his spot sat on top of their thighs, he hovered one hand over their tummy, the other pinning both of their hands down by their wrists, smirking down at them.  Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was, since he was always so gentle with them, but even now he was making sure his grip wasn't too tight.  

“If you knew, thehen why did you bother to ask?”  A small laugh couldn’t help but slip out as they tried to keep some composure, though the little they had was already crumbling.  

“Honestly, just wanted to see what you’d say, I wonder if you would’ve just asked for it if I waited a bit longer?  Guess you’re lucky The Great Mammon is super generous and won’t make you wait any longer.”  

“You just couldn’t wait any more yourself, cohould you?”  This time the laugh wasn’t just out of anticipation, but at the demon himself, always trying to play so cool, but usually just ending up looking too cute for his own good.  Just like now, face slightly flushed, knowing you had seen right through him.  

“Grr just stop talking and laugh already!”  He released their hands and quickly started squeezing their sides, causing them to let out a quick shriek and break into loud giggles.

“Nahahaha Mahahams plehehease!” Even with their hands free, there wasn’t much they could do, settling for holding onto his wrists, despite it doing nothing to deter the demon.

“Please what? Please keep going? Please keep tickling you? I think I can do that for ya.”  He smirked down at them, keeping his hands at their sides, but now scribbling his nails around the area.

“Yohohou knohow thahat’s nahat whahat I meheheant!”  MC felt their face heating up at the teasing and couldn’t help but squirm side to side, trying to dodge his fingers, but failing miserably.  

“Oooh, I’m sorry. You meant please tickle your tummy, didn’t ya?”  He moved his hands to their stomach, still using his nails to lightly scratch all over. 

“Nohohoho Mahahamon!” Mc could barely get out any words through their laughter.  They knew the demon could be merciless from seeing him wreck his brothers, but this was their first time being on the receiving end of one of his attacks, though they couldn’t say it wasn’t deserved.  

“Oh? Still not the right spot? How about your ribs?  Your underarms? Your neck?”  He quickly jumped from spot to spot, pinching their ribs, then spidering under their arms, and now tracing all around their neck.

“Eehehe yohohou’re soho mehehean.”  Both knew that that was a lie, and that if MC ever wanted it to stop, they could make him easily.  They also knew that it wasn’t necessary anyways, and that if asked or if they seemed uncomfortable, Mammon would stop on his own, but neither wanted it to end yet.

“You haven’t seen mean yet, human~”  MC felt a small shiver go down their spine at his tone.  They felt his hands moving down to their hips, one of their worst spots, at the same time his head lowered to their neck.  They closed their eyes, trying to prepare themselves.  After a bit, they realized he hadn’t moved at all, and peeked their eyes open just a bit.  They were greeted by Mammon’s grinning face right in front of theirs.

“Gotcha~”  That was the only warning they got before both of his hands squeezed at their hips and he began blowing raspberries into the side of their neck.  They let out a shriek and quickly broke down into high pitched laughter.

“NAHAHA W-WAHAHAHAIT!  MAHAHAMOHOHON!”  It was hard to think with how much it tickled, but they still couldn’t bring themself to say stop yet.  Mammon stopped the raspberries to allow a little relief and so that he could speak.

“Wait? Wait for what? I thought you’d be sick of waitin’ by now, or does it just tickle too much for ya’?”  MC felt like their face was on fire, it was unfair for him to be this good at both tickling and teasing.  

“SH-SHUHUHUT UHUHUP!”  Despite how bad it was, of course MC had to instigate it even more, it was just too fun to mess with the demon.  

“Tch, how rude, someone clearly wants more tickle tickle tickles then~”  He put his head back into their neck, this time lightly nibbling at the skin.  MC couldn’t help but let out a couple snorts at how tickly the action was.

“OHOKAHAHAY OKAHAHAY, IHI’M SAHAHARRY!”  Mammon took that as the sign to stop, instantly pulling his hands and head away and moving to be next to them rather than on top.

“That’ll teach ya’ to challenge The Great Mammon, remember this next time you plan on attacking me, human.”  Despite his prideful tone, he was keeping a careful eye on how MC was doing, making sure he didn’t go too far and ready to get them whatever they may need.  MC curled into his side, residual giggles still slipping out.

“Ahand you called mehe evil.”  They let out a yawn, feeling the exhaustion kicking in, and started drifting off to sleep, head in Mammon’s lap.

“Y’know, you’re pretty cute like this, all tickled out, I might have to do it more often.”  He smiled down at them, starting to feel pretty sleepy himself.  

“I wouldn’t mind, as long as I get to tickle you too.”  Hearing this, Mammon felt himself getting flustered again, but both were too tired to really care about what they were saying.

“I guess that’d be alright.”  They both had good dreams that night.

[which-hospital]

Tinderbox (30/12/23)

I did end up waking up super early (on accident) and watching this episode but I decided not to post my review until after it had been on TV. I've really got to start getting into writing my essays now cause I have less than two weeks even with the deadline extension but I can manage to spend 12 straight hours thinking about writing it (rotating Casualty in my microwave brain) and not even realise I've done it until my mum's alarm goes off.

Well, it was an episode, wasn't it? Sometimes Casualty gives us masterpieces of television (cough Switzerland) and sometimes Casualty gives us "what the fuck was that?" (cough Too Much, Too Young - that was a very mixed Saturday) and Tinderbox was, at least for me, pretty much in the middle. I guess I wasn't as invested as I could've been cause there wasn’t much of my faves, I'd probably be more positive if we had more of them.

Pretty busy and all over the place episode but that’s to be expected at the start of a miniseries, I guess.

Stevie my beloved, she was great in this one. Elinor Lawless is very talented!! This has got me looking forward to her own storyline even more.

I know Ryan was unpopular but I loved him as a problematic little bitch character. Shows like this sometimes need a Ryan to cause problems for everyone and he served his purpose. Like, he is terrible but it was amusing to have a terrible member of the predominantly very sweet baby nurse quartet. I’ll miss him, honestly. I don’t imagine he’ll come back since there’s a new new (I still think of the baby nurses as new) nurse joining next week.

I made this last night, he didn’t actually die but I still think it’s funny:

I really liked that final shot of Jodie, Rida and Cam together but, to quote my mum as it happened, “I feel like all three of them have wanted Ryan to get beaten up at least once before”.

I love a good family storyline, especially when the family has multiple members in the main cast cause I think it allows for more development of the relationship (gestures wildly at Jan and Teddy), and Max and Jodie were great today. Loved all their interactions. Especially loved their conversation about Max’s kidney failure and especially “I wouldn’t allow it, even if you wanted to.” “Which I don’t.” “Well at least we agree on one thing” and “I’m sorry I’m not what you expected” (!!!!!!!!!!). I think they’re more similar than either of them realises, and I love that kind of dynamic - in both my ‘main fandoms’ my favourite characters are girls whose relationships with their fathers could be described as “I’m nothing like my dad (I’m just acting exactly like him)”. There’s definitely examples of that in this episode but back in Driving Force I remember a scene where Dylan tells them that neither of them should be treating Max’s mum and they both stand there looking at him with the same expression.

I expected that knowing the Teddy infidelity arc will happen would affect how I watch the show and when Paige and Jodie were treating the same patient I was 👁️👁️ the whole time. Whatever, I’ll get over it (hhhhhhh).

Sah was in this but so barely that the credits didn’t actually include Arin, which is weird to me.

I will say I think Casualty has been on weird pacing recently. I’d blame the miniseries format but it feels like there has been some storylines that are too long-running without saying anything new (FAITH) and other ones that get dropped too quickly without enough time to actually go into the ideas they implied were happening.

I think it was a good start to the new series but I would’ve liked them to cut the Faith stuff and have something actually happening with the paramedics instead.

Yes, I know complaining about Faith is beating a dead horse. However, in continuing to write her and this storyline, the writers have invented a dead horse beating machine to keep beating the dead horse perpetually. It goes on endlessly and has absolutely nothing new to say. And while some storylines have been getting these rushed and incomplete conclusions, Casualty had an opportunity to give the Faith storyline a conclusion with her going to rehab and staying there and then they didn’t. Tired of it. Also, not to be mean to the presumably overwhelmed Holby HR department but why would they ask Faith of Drug Theft Fame to come back??? This is why your hospital is like this, your hiring practices are terrible.

[unhingedcanadianbacon]

I’m gay for a raccoon and the raccoon is just as gay as me send help

Okay…

So, I understand “hopping on the gravy train” is kind of cliche, but I promise I have a good reason for it!

…I guess I should start ‘Rambling on about it’ then!

(I’m so sorry, none of these puns were intentional, but they were too good to miss)

—So, Indigo Park;

what even I would’ve expected was another quick cash-grab game in the mascot-horror genre, turned out to be a game that managed to make me start binge-watching livestreams and video-essays about the game, it’s characters and its development on the whole,

Just like every other millennial and gen-z’er out there.

I know it’s absolutely normal for people to become invested in something so quick…

But it’s been a long time since I’ve felt so attached —so spoken to,

especially when I haven’t really been part of those big ‘band-wagon’ trends at all,

at least with the exception of forcing myself to watch shows with my friends —which again, I don’t do much of that either.

From what I understand, there are technically multiple small factors that have led me to become attached to this game.

But frankly, there all of really part of the one major reason why there’s just, that, ‘something’ —a “spark” if you will—that makes me click with a game for the first time in so many years that it physically hurts.

He’s the star of the show, the elephant in the room:

Rambley;

A cute, furry-raccoon —who likes trains!

Now, as anyone who knows anything about me will tell you, these two factors are inherently weaknesses in my mental psyche.

Why, you may ask? It’s simple!

Firstly, —I too— like trains.

Also, I come from Toronto, Canada — a city famously (or to some infamously) known for its love-hate relationship with its unofficial mascot: the trash pandas! They’re an animal which I got to know well over 13 years, 10 months and ~15 1/2 hours of being a Torontonian.

—Which leads me to the second-half of the other reasons I resonate so god-damn hard with the game, and Rambley in particular:

Isolation

It felt quite funny that the number of days that poor-old AI racoony’ spent alone in the abandoned park was almost exactly double that of the days I’ve been a ‘Quasi-Canadian’ living in the United States, with not much interaction with my family back “home”. I had a single trip back for the first time in multiple years.

—It brang back a lot of memories which so happened to be similar to the ideas mentioned during Rambley’s post-chase exposition.

That little break in his character just made my heart literally melt and shatter and implode all at the same time;

“A little heart-to-heart” as they say, but just.. the way he breaks and talks like a true person, things he isn’t sure about, didn’t know, shouldn’t have done, is painfully, gushingly personal somehow!

It’s also extra cool when he gets excited about restoring the park, as being a former (small) volunteer and hearing about railway preservation stories, you start to realize and appreciate just how much having that other person helping you means when fighting in these “David and Goliath”-esque battles to keep old or unloved things going when everything is telling you it’s impossible.

(Side note, the extra lines where Rambley showcases his sentience and lets you into the staff-only area after realizing Mollie is chasing you made me love him just that much more, and is also what makes me feel the game is just that extra bit special.)

Long story short (TL;DR):

The honesty, personality, and just general likeness of the characters hits very close to home for me,

if for no other reason than that I happen to have (in concept at least) similar experiences in terms of feeling (though thankfully not literally being) isolated from friends.

Cheers, Critters!

—A.

[sallow-tales]

Strong and Sweet – Garreth Weasley x GN!Reader

Summary: Modern coffee shop AU; The ever lovely Garreth Weasley catches your eye from behind the counter of your local cafe. Pure fluff.

A/n: Once I got this idea into my head, it would not leave, so here we are. It's been edited, but only lightly. This is genuinely the longest fic I've ever written, I'm usually a sucker for short and sweet, but not in this case. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral, but once again let me know if you catch a mistake. Also, the topic of the paper is incredibly self indulgent. With love, your friendly neighborhood anthro major <3

Word Count: 2897

You let out a sigh, fingers pressing almost painfully to your temples as you stared at the screen in front of you. You’d been trying to write this damned essay for hours, but the words didn’t seem to want to get out of your brain and onto the page. Not to mention that nearly every potential source you found was useless to you for one reason or another. 

The article currently open on your computer began to swim in front of your eyes, words blurring together as you tried to read them. As much as you wished you could take a break, you’d procrastinated this paper for far longer than you should have, and you were now to the point of questioning if you’d even be able to get it done before the due date. The due date, you realized, that was now only six hours away. Why’d your professor have to be special and make things due at 10pm on a Tuesday, instead of midnight on a Sunday like a normal person?

Dragging yourself out of your train of thought took more effort than you’d have liked as you once again tried to read through someone else’s science. You were slightly more successful this time, but once you’d gotten through the next three paragraphs, you let out a frustrated groan. There was no sense to this study–it ignored nearly all precedent and was trying to test a theory that anyone with common sense would know to be impossible. 

You slammed your computer shut in mild frustration and closed your eyes, taking a breath to calm yourself down, only for your meditation attempt to be interrupted by a familiar voice. 

“Careful now, doll. If you get much more frustrated you might start throwing things, and as much as I love having you here, I’d hate having to clean that up.” Your eyes open and you glance up to look at the redheaded boy standing over you

Your face relaxes as your gaze lands on him. You couldn’t be stressed when he was smiling at you like that.

The two of you had first met in this very coffee shop at the beginning of the term–him behind the register and you desperately needing some caffeine to get through your first week of classes.

“Give me something strong,” you’d said when you walked up, and he’d given you a playful salute in response.

“Yes ma’am, one americano coming right up.” 

His playful demeanor and charming smile had you grinning right back at him despite your exhaustion. When he’d handed you your drink, though, you couldn’t hide the grimace that crossed your face. You needed the caffeine, but boy did you hate the bitter taste that it left on your tongue.

“You should have told me you didn’t like it straight when I took your order.” You weren’t expecting to hear his voice and you looked back at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You asked for something strong, but you didn’t have to take my first suggestion if you knew it wasn’t something you’d enjoy. Tell me what sorts of flavors you like and I can make you something you’ll actually drink.” You could tell he was eager to make you something new, though you weren’t sure if he actually wanted you to like it or if he just wanted to show off; either way, you rattled off your usual order, and some likes and dislikes, answering his questions when he asked and before you knew it you had a brand new cup in front of you.

This time when you took a sip, you practically moaned. It was spectacular. “How the hell did you do that? I don’t think I’ve ever had something this good in my life.”

His cheeky grin widened. “What can I say, I’m great at what I do. Though if you’d told me from the get-go that you like it strong and sweet, I could have just given you my number and been done with it.” His wink that followed sent flames through your cheeks and you’d turned your head to try and hide them.

Despite his flirtatious remark upon your initial meeting, nothing more had ever happened. Well, except for you developing one of the biggest crushes you think you’ve ever had in your entire life.

Against your better judgment (and to the chagrin of your wallet), you found yourself back in that cafe nearly every single day, always hoping to see his green eyes glittering at you from across the room. You knew the crush was stupid, but you didn’t blame yourself for it. How could you? It wasn’t your fault he was so ridiculously charming, and handsome, and kind. Nor was it your fault that he somehow always seemed to know exactly the drink you needed for your current mood–after that first day, you’d never had him hand you something unsavory again… well, at least that was intended to be enjoyable.

Every once in a while you’d come in during a particularly slow spell, when there was no one else around and Garreth–alongside his coworkers–were clearly extremely bored. It was days like these when you’d get to try his little experiments.

You’d see him furrow his brow, deep in thought, and then wander from place to place in the store, tossing various syrups, powders, and milks together in incredibly interesting combinations. Yes, interesting was definitely the word to describe them; sometimes they were spectacular, but other times… not so much.

“Oh my god, Gar, this is absolutely disgusting.” 

He had called you over a few moments prior, insisting you try his most recent mixture. You didn’t know what was in it, but it wasn’t good. It was almost slimy in texture, and the flavor certainly left something to be desired. Through your wince, you saw the twinkle in his eye. The bastard knew it wasn’t going to be good but he had you try it anyway.

Attempting to hide the grin that threatened to poke through, his face had twisted into a look of mock betrayal. “How could you say such a thing? I poured my heart and soul into this. You wound me, love.”

Your heart had nearly stopped at the nickname but you did your best to play it off, grinning at him. “Well, perhaps you should pour a little less of it next time, that might help with the texture issue.” He’d scoffed at you playfully, and the memory of his playful expression is still one of your favorites.

His expression was eerily similar as he stood beside your little table, eying the books you had spread about from your research. 

“Garreth! I didn’t realize you were here, I never saw you walk in.”

He chuckled. “I’ve been here for hours. I would’ve said hello earlier, but you looked focused and I didn’t want to bother you. However,” he paused, “it was about time for my break and I noticed you looked only inches away from violence, so I figured I should come intervene. Distract you with my relentless charm and all that.” His grin was contagious, and you found yourself smiling fondly at him.

“You should well know by now that I’m a pacifist,” you quipped back. “Violence would never be my first reaction. You wouldn’t have anything to worry about until after I’ve wallowed in self despair for at least 30 minutes.” He sat down in the chair opposite you and it’s not until he placed the cup and plate on the surface in front of you that you realized he’d been holding them. “What’s this?”

“A refill, and some sustenance. Figured you could use them, based on the fact that I haven’t seen you move in the entire time I’ve been here.” Your heart gives a little squeeze at the gesture as you take in the items. He had, in fact, brought you another coffee and the pastry that he by now knew to be your favorite.

“I can’t accept this, Garreth. I didn’t pay for them.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. Don’t bother resisting, you know I won’t stop pestering you until you’ve eaten.” 

You relented with a sigh, taking a bite. “Happy now?” you mumbled.

He smirked at you. “Happier. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s frustrating you so much. Maybe clearing your mind of it will help you make some progress.”

You proceeded to rant to the ginger about the articles you’d been reading, the roadblocks you’d been encountering, and the various other issues you’d been having.

“I don’t know why it’s so difficult for people to have some common sense, y’know? It’s not so hard to realize ‘Hey, perhaps if you can’t sex an individual via this bone without population specific numbers, perhaps we shouldn’t try to sex an individual of an entirely different species.’ You’d think that’d be easy!” Garreth nodded along, a small smile playing at his lips. “And this one!” you gestured to an article on your computer, which you’d reopened part-way through your rant to show him evidence of your problems, “in this one, they try and argue that grave goods can be used to accurately sex an individual, which might be fine in some populations, but it’s a know fact that gender and sex variance is a common occurrence in this population.”

You finally paused to take a breath, and you realized that you didn’t really have much more to say. “And… and yeah that’s about it actually. There you have it.” You glanced up at his face, mildly surprised by the expression he harbored. It seemed to be a combination of amusement and… fondness?

“I do hope you know I don’t know what any of that means. Do you feel better though?” He rested his chin on his hand, hair falling just slightly in front of his face.

You immediately nodded in response. “Yeah, actually. Loads. Thanks.”

“My pleasure, love. Now, I do believe my break is over, so I should get back to it, but good luck on your paper. I believe in you.” A wink was sent in your direction before he turned and walked back behind the counter, deftly tying his apron behind his back.

With that, you dove back into writing. You were almost surprised at how much easier the words came to you now that you’d gotten all the swirling irritations out of your brain–before you knew it, you’d surpassed the page minimum, wrapped up all your thoughts, and read through it a few times to make sure there weren’t any errors. Thoroughly pleased with your work, you grinned and threw your hands up. “I’m done!” You turned your head around, searching for the smile Garreth was surely throwing in your direction. You weren’t surprised to find you were correct. “And with…” you turned back to check the time, “45 minutes to spare!”

Wait a second…

45 minutes to spare… that meant that it was 9:15. You turned to glare accusingly at Garreth.

“Don’t you guys close at 9?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “Technically, yeah. I was supposed to kick you out 15 minutes ago. But you looked so focused and I could tell you were close to done. I didn’t wanna be the reason you lost your stride. Besides,” his usual cocky grin came back to his face. “I’m not sure you could rob this place if you tried.”

The boy turned back to mopping the floor, ignoring your huffed “hey” in response. You began packing up your belongings in a hurry, trying to get out of his hair as quickly as possible. Despite your efforts, though, he had still managed to finish closing before you were completely ready to go. 

“I’m so sorry Gar, I really should have been paying closer attention to the time. I didn’t mean to be an imposition.” You rushed the words out as you exited the building in front of him. His only response at first was a small huff of amusement.

His words came a minute later as he turned back to lock the door to the building behind him. “As if you could ever be an imposition. Any time spent in your presence is time well spent.” You couldn’t even begin to process what those words meant as you took in the parking lot, empty except for one single car. A string of curses swiftly left your lips. If you’d thought yourself stupid earlier when you struggled to write your paper, it was nothing compared to how stupid you’d felt in that moment.

You’d completely forgotten that you’d taken the bus today. And in your time-blindness, you’d also forgotten that the bus stopped running at 8.

You glanced over at Garreth beside you, and let out a frustrated sigh at his barely concealed laughter. He knew that you sometimes took the bus, and by the lack of car in the parking lot belonging to you, it hadn’t taken him more than a moment to figure out what was going on.

“Don’t look so down, it’s not like I’d let you walk. Get in the car.” You immediately began protesting, not wanting to burden him any more than you already had this evening. “It wasn’t a question, get in the car. It’s too far back to campus for you to walk during the day, let alone at night. I’d be the world’s biggest asshole if I let a pretty individual walk home alone after dark. Get in.”

You conceded with a sigh, walking around to the passenger side door. “You think I’m pretty?” you grinned, trying to joke away the nerves you felt at getting in his car.

Sure, you’d become pretty close throughout the term, but your interactions had always, always been limited to that building. And now here you were, getting into a car with the guy you’d been crushing on for months. 

“If you’re just now noticing, then maybe you’re dumber than I gave you credit for,” came his snarky reply. He got in the car and grinned at you over the console. You hoped he couldn’t see your cheeks turn red in the dark. His gaze held yours for a beat too long and you looked away nervously. He cleared his throat before starting the car. “Where to?”

You directed him to your place, basking comfortably in the silence of the car in between instructions. Against your better efforts, though, you also found yourself staring at him. It was such an odd thing to find attractive, you thought, but the sight of him driving made your heart do a flip. 

You were admiring how his gentle features looked under the red of a stoplight when he turned to glance at you and caught you. “See something you like?” 

“And what if I do?” You replied, lips quirking into a smile. You had no idea where this bold streak came from, but you weren’t complaining. He didn’t reply immediately, focused on turning into the parking lot of your building. He parked, and then turned to you. 

“I’m less concerned about the ‘what if you do’s and more concerned about the ‘what if you don’t’s if I’m being honest.” Your face twisted slightly in confusion as you tried to decipher his meaning.

“I- what? I don’t understand.” Stumbling over your words, it took you far longer than it should have to realize how much closer he’d gotten to you. 

“What I mean,” he said lowly, his voice barely above a whisper, “is that if you don’t, you need to tell me now because otherwise I’m about to do something really really stupid.”

Oh. Oh.

“Oh,” you said in reply. “I see.” You wet your lips nervously but didn’t move away from him, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips. “Well, there’s not really a good way to know if it’s stupid or not until you’ve done it.”

Apparently that was all the approval he needed, because the next thing you knew his lips were on yours and his hand was cupping the back of your neck and a low whine sounded in the back of your throat. This was happening. Oh my god this was happening.

He pulled back after a moment, panting just slightly. He was nervous, you realized. You’d almost never seen him nervous before, but right now, in this moment, you were sure that’s what the expression on his face was. 

You let out a soft giggle that apparently eased his nerves, causing him to break out into a wide smile and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, was it as stupid as I thought it was?”

“Verdict is still out,” you said with a grin. “I’ll have to let you know tomorrow. You work?” 

“Same time as usual, yeah.” He chuckled at the smile on your face as you unbuckled yourself from the car. 

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to let you know then. And maybe after you’re out, we could go get dinner or something. If the jury rules in your favor, that is.” You grin at him over your shoulder as you get out of the car.

The last thing Garreth sees as he pulls out of your lot is you pressing your fingers softly against your own lips, grinning like an idiot. And though he’d never admit it, in his head he was doing the same.