#they had sent their school notes in the class group and there were doodles in the margin

[woestruckalex]

i redrew someone’s sketch to give them a final version of their drawing but they didn’t like it :(

[bloomingforerza]

Ouran High School Host Club HC’s — Being their girlfriend would include…

notes from bloom: hi guys!!! thanks for the love on my previous works. lost inspiration for my levi oneshot so for now she’s benched and instead i wrote this. enjoy :)

tags: fluff, loads and loads of fluff

Tamaki Suoh

🌸 Tamaki is obviously very flamboyant in nature and super pushy, but he’s also the sweetest man you’ve ever met.

🌸 And sure he puts on that show for the host club ladies, but you aren’t a host club lady, you never were. You used to despise Tamaki Suoh.

🌸 But then one day, he watched a group of boys mess with you in the courtyard, and he didn’t just stand by.

🌸 After kicking one guy to the ground, He threatened all of them, using his father’s power against them (a move he learned from Kyoya), and sent the boys running with their tails between their legs.

🌸 After that, you decided to take time to get to know Tamaki. Being his girlfriend though, that was a secret to anyone outside of direct host club members.

🌸 And they all loved you. You’d get to hang out with them. Being in the same class as Tamaki and Kyoya, you spent most of your time with them during the day.

🌸 But host club hours were your favorite part.

🌸 Tamaki would find some time to sneak away with you and just hold you for a moment, just so you knew he loved you.

🌸 He’d bring you flowers every Saturday, always your favorites of course. He’d love to take you out on food dates and shopping trips, he’d love to buy you things.

🌸 But most of all, Tamaki loved holding your hand. 🌸 You’re the first girl he’s truly loved, and he loves being able to do simple things like walk down a street together.

🌸 He’d play piano for you, all the time. The songs he’d play would tell you how he was feeling that day, but whether you knew it or not, moments like this he spent with you were the best part of his day.

Kyoya Ootori

🌸 Kyoya is a man that hardly shows any kind of happiness. That being said, you truly enamored him when the two of you first met.

🌸 You had met outside of Ouran entirely. Fuyumi had extended an invite to the Ootori group’s Christmas party to one of her friends from work. They would be bringing a sister, and that was all Kyoya knew.

🌸 But then he met you. And you took his breath away. Of course, Kyoya is the cool type, so he’s going about this super chill.

🌸 He’ll first ask you your name, and then he’ll compliment how lovely that sounds, repeating it back to you, making your heart race.

🌸 But after he gets your phone number, he’d start calling you to ask you out on dates. He’d take you to all kinds of beautiful places like butterfly sanctuaries and botanical gardens.

🌸 After he’d ask you to be his girlfriend though, he’d start going the extra mile just for you. He’d take you to far away cities you’ve never seen before when you’d both have the time off from school.

🌸 He’d love exploring new cities with you as well, places he’s never been. He loves having opportunities like this with you, sharing these experiences together makes these memories feel that much more special.

🌸 I feel like Kyoya’s love language would be gift giving and words of affirmation. He’d love to give you gifts and then tell you how much you mean to him.

🌸 During class hours, he’d pass you notes. Little notes with doodles of you. They’d say some little compliment on them, something about how your hair looks today or how radiant your smile was.

🌸 In private, Kyoya was very touchy. He loved hugs believe it or not, but only your hugs. He’d lay with you for a while and just play with your hair.

🌸 When it came to the host club, Kyoya would try to keep you as far away from the band of idiots as he could.

🌸 But you’d always sneak in for a little piece of cake and some time with Kyoya, and he never truly minded it.

Hikaru Hitachiin

🌸 We all know that Hikaru is insecure. He does know how to be confident, but when it comes to himself and his romantic feelings, he doesn’t know what to do.

🌸 He asks you to go on a little shopping date with him, and you agreed. He was surprised you had said yes, but after that it became a regular thing.

🌸 He loved watching you try on clothes, he’d compliment you in every single outfit you tried on. He thought you were ethereal.

🌸 And once you were his girlfriend, he’d surprise you with endless outfits he’d love to see you wear on your dates with him. Some of them were really well put together, while others were….too promiscuous.

🌸 He’d love to go on coffee dates with you, too. He’d even plan trips for the two of you to other cities just so you two could experience coffee in new places together.

🌸 And he’d also love to go on beach dates with you. He’d fly out to Okinawa just for a day with you in the water.

🌸 Hikaru loves to talk about himself, but he swears that there is nothing more interesting than what you have to say. If you’re telling him a story of your past, he will remember every detail.

🌸 Hikaru’s love language is definitely physical touch as well as quality time, so he’d love to have his hands on you at all times.

🌸 Linking arms when walking in the street, always snuggling you close to him when he’s asleep, sitting with his arm around you or with his hand in yours, he just loves knowing you’re right next to him.

🌸 Hikaru would definitely have those moments of self doubt and anxiety, and when he did they could get rough.

🌸 On one occasion he had said something that made you cry, but he snapped out of it quick after seeing the tears roll down your face.

🌸 He realizes he hates to see you cry and he swears he will protect the smile that he loves so much.

Kaoru Hitachiin

🌸 Kaoru is the soft spoken, easygoing twin. Haruhi DID say that Hikaru was the mischievous one.

🌸 But Kaoru is a little more sure of himself than Hikaru is. And when he realized he had feelings for you, he didn’t wait to ask you out on a date.

🌸 Kaoru likes to do fun educational things I feel like. He’d take you to a planetarium or an art museum.

🌸 Or, he’d take you out to a festival. Kaoru loves dressing up with you for them, he’d have his mother make an extra matching kimono for you.

🌸 He’s definitely the type of man to take you out on picnic dates and hand feed you strawberries. You’d eat, and then he’d let you lay with your head on his lap while you both digested.

🌸 Kaoru would also like to take you out on trips, but he definitely is more of a middle-of-nowhere type of guy. He’d rather take you to the mountains of Norway or to a huge forest house in America, but he is still down to go on trips like Rio de Jenario or Berlin.

🌸 His love languages are also probably physical touch and words of affirmation.

🌸 You’ve seen how close Kaoru is with Hikaru, it’s only natural that Kaoru will also be touchy with you. He loves to simply hold your hand for the most part when you two go out.

🌸 But when you’re alone, Kaoru is the best snuggler. He loves to be big spoon, and he’ll wrap himself around you entirely as if he’s protecting you.

🌸 However, because Kaoru sometimes feels as if he’s trailing behind Hikaru instead of walking beside him, this will make him insecure.

🌸 He loves when you help reassure him of himself, and ground him again.

🌸 He also loves when you remind him of what you love about him and what makes him special to you, what sets him apart from Hikaru.

🌸 He’d just so happy that he has someone like you, someone who has crossed into his world and brought out the best in him. He loves that you see Kaoru, not ‘Hikaru and Kaoru’.

Mistkuni Haninozuka

🌸 Mistkuni can be a bit of a child, but we all know he is a full grown boy and he knows it himself as well. He just doesn’t care.

🌸 So when he decided to finally ask you out, it was on a date to the aquarium. Of course he had to ask if Usa-chan could come along with you two.

🌸 He’s obviously very into sweets. And once you were his girlfriend, he’d love to take you out on bakery dates and buy you any sweets you’d want.

🌸 He’d also probably be the picnic type of guy. He’d love to have a nice picnic with cake, tea, Usa-chan and you, all of his favorite things.

🌸 Mitskuni is also a fun dates guy, but more like amusement parks and zoos. He loves to take you to exciting places.

🌸 He’d probably take you to Disney and make you get matching ears with him honestly, he’s that cheesy and cute.

🌸 But unfortunately Mistkuni also still has a dojo to attend to. The first time you visited his estate, watching all of the members of the dojo bow and respect him was almost humbling.

🌸 You’d watch him train on weekends before you’d be able to go out with him, but you didn’t mind. You loved seeing this side of Mitskuni.

🌸 His love languages are quality time and physical touch. Mitskuni loves to spend his time with you. You could be doing anything and he didn’t care.

🌸 We all know he takes afternoon naps, but if you take one with him he’s sure to never let you go. He would love to cuddle up to you while you’d sleep together.

🌸 Honestly, you might just be Mitskuni’s favorite person. But don’t tell Takashi that.

Takashi Morinozuka

🌸 Okay but everyone knew about Takashi turning down a girl because his priority was serving Mitskuni.

🌸 That was, until he met you on the first day of your first year at Ouran.

🌸 Takashi was a a simple man, all he really cared for before was Mitskuni. But he found himself speaking more around you, and coming to find you were listening.

🌸 And one day, you had nearly fallen down a flight of stairs, and he caught you. And in that moment, he realized just how much you could take over his heart and he’d willingly just give it to you if you merely asked.

🌸 But after making sure you were okay, Takashi did ask you out on a date. He was a simple man, and your first date was actually to a park. All he wanted to do was take a walk.

🌸 But after that, he’d take you out on dates to the animal shelters or to fun hiking trails. Takashi is a fit guy, so I feel like he’d enjoy lots of exercise dates like that.

🌸 He’d also be the type of guy to go on a bike riding date. He’d get bikes for the both of you and the two of you would ride around together all day exploring the city.

🌸 And if you really enjoy doing these things with him, he’d take you to fun places like Amsterdam or Paris, somewhere to cycle around and enjoy the sights to see.

🌸 Or, he’d take you on a cool hiking trip through the Amazon Rain Forest or through the Grand Canyon. He loves just spending that time with you.

🌸 Takashi’s love language would definitely be quality time and acts of service.

🌸 He isn’t a man of many words, even if he has more for you than most others, nor does he often display his affections, but just doing the things he enjoys with you is more than enough for him.

🌸 He would definitely carve out just a little extra time in each day just to spend it with you. Seeing you was his favorite part of the day.

Haruhi Fujioka

🌸 Haruhi doesn’t really know she likes girls yet, so when she meets you on her first day at Ouran, her heart began to race, and she didn’t really know what do think or do.

🌸 After she had joined the host club, you never said anything, but you knew she was a girl on her first day of school. She had lost her glasses, but you definitely saw right through them.

🌸 And soon after you recognized the growing crush you had on Haruhi, you began attending the host club.

🌸 But you made Haruhi just slightly more nervous than usual, and you didn’t know why. Your initial first thought was she didn’t like you. But after spending more time with her, she had asked you out on a date.

🌸 And after asking, she told you she was a girl. But you laughed, informing her you already knew, which brought about her shock afterwards.

🌸 She eventually started to laugh with you, and after that everything fell into place. She’d taken you to a bookstore in her town, and you were obsessed with it.

🌸 After that though, you would take her out on dates instead for the most part. She’d plan them sometimes, but you loved to be the one to spoil her.

🌸 You loved taking Haruhi to museums and sushi restaurants. The look on Tamaki’s face when you bragged to him about buying Haruhi fancy tuna was priceless.

🌸 And her face, the first time she tried it, was also priceless. You loved to see her happy.

🌸 Haruhi’s love languages are most likely words of affirmation and quality time. She gets tired and stressed after having to deal with the host club, so spending time with you after is always her favorite.

🌸 She loves just sitting around and drinking tea with you, watching movies until you’d fall asleep together.

🌸 She also knew that as a first born lady in a family with status and money that you were self doubtful, so she’d love to share her own personal thoughts of you when you’re in that funk.

[k-zuzu]

수빈

soobin 𖹭 female!reader

my idol. [chap1]

synopsis: a teenage crush carried over to adulthood. imagine a 15-year-old schoolgirl having a secret crush on her brother's 18-year-old best friend.

wc: 2.6k

content: brother's (yeonjun's) best friend, lighthearted fluff, attempted humor, slow burn, age gap (small/3yrs), brother!yeonjun, best friend!changbin, underage drinking (soobin), yeonjun and changbin are seniors in high school, y/n is a sophomore, communication, lowercase intended

zuzu's notes: main masterlist. this was originally supposed to be a long ass oneshot but I got a little carried away and now I'm sort of interested in it as a series. i'm liking the soft vibe it has — reminds me of “Hidden Love” which is also a really good romance if you're not into the whole "drama" thing. please tell me if you enjoy this andni might continue it! ♡

it wasn't a secret.

the moment that you realized you fell for choi soobin you immidiately told your best friend — and now all of your closest friends know and it's the talk of the group. all of them were always encouraging your relationship to the “next level” whenever the topic came up, whatever the “next level” even was.

you've always liked soobin.

you've liked him since you were nine but you didn't know your supposed “little crush” on him would stick around until now. all of your friend's who change their crushes every few weeks call you a prude.

your brother and soobin were the hot shit at school, everyone just knew they were trainees at BigHit Entertainment, where BTS, the biggest thing that has happened since God knows when, debuted 6 years ago. yeonjun was playing one of their songs in public and soobin recognized it so and they bonded over it. ever since then they were attached to the hip. they constantly hung out in your house, but you and soobin weren't close. if you didn't know any better, you would assume they were dating.

“hey, y/n, did soobin come over today?” changbin asks innocently, pencil placed on his ear as he watches you intently for your answer; he's your senior and also happens to be your assigned tutor for English — every student with a failing English grade got one. and you, ever-so hung up on soobin totally didn't focus in class as you wrote an imaginary love letter and made doodles of little rabbits on it instead of taking notes and listening like normal students do, resulting with an F on your report card.

you slowly shook your head in response, a slight pout to show your disappointment as you tell changbin that whenever soobin and yeonjun aren't at home or school, they're practicing at the BigHit entertainment building... no, you don't spend most of your days wondering about him and if he thinks about you as well, how busy he is and how he's rarely around anymore for you to admire... but you do.

in middle school you'd just sneak innocent little peaks and glances and make chibi doodles of him in your notebook. but now... it's different. you like him more and more with each passing moment and you're not getting over him. you can't even imagine getting over him. whenever you're alone with your brother, you keep asking him all sorts of questions about soobin and making excuses for him to come over, and when yeonjun gives in and calls soobin to come over, you keep hiding behind chairs and sneaking peaks (just like middle school) as he and your brother play video games or watch a show.

you keep offering them sliced fruits, sandwiches or juice until your brother ever so rudely asked you to scram and leave them alone because “soobin has trouble focusing” and that you should do your homework instead because, quote, “your grades are stinker than sewege waste with dead rats.” yeonjun is 100% oblivious to your crush on his best friend and even so, he is not being a wingman. even soobin himself could probably tell, that's how dumb yeonjun was about it... but you had no problem with it. you weren't deliberately trying to hide it anyway.

soobin sent you a quick smile saying it's alright and that you can stick around if you want, which makes you giggle and hop on the couch and nuzzle yourself in the space between them, yeonjun glares at you and rolls his eyes — he didn't want to hang out with you in the moment. but you wanted to be with soobin, even if you're browsing through your phone and he's playing games. you liked his presence, you didn't need his attention and you think that was what you liked most about your little crush.

“I finished Learning Task 5.” you mumble, adding in a period and you lift your paper, shaking it for the ink to dry. your curious eyes hover to changbin's phone and he seems to be scrolling through Instagram and liking photos of the random kpop girl groups he follows. “ya! are you here to teach me or just use my wi-fi?” you scold your senior and conk the back of his head, and he conks you back with a pillow, causing you two to giggle like little hyenas.

“seriously though, you should work on your English—”

“shut up, my English is good.” you say in English with a thick accent — and changbin shakes is head.

“No, not like that, like this; I'm hungry!” he yells out and you playfully use him as a platform to get up and you push him backwards and he just lays there, feigning death.

“I'll go get us some snacks, I'll be right back.” you say as you enter the hallway, only to bump into a broad chest and you let out a squeak of pain, eyes squinting, hand immidiately hovering to your forehead. you open your eyes to see that it's your brother and he puts a finger to his lips, gesturing behind himself and you can sense his urgency—

“Hey, I'm going to need you to be quiet to mom and dad about this...” he whispers and you squint your eyebrows in confusion, holding your forehead in pain; his chest is really hard, it's like bumping your head on a concrete wall, you think, and he probably didn't feel anything. Yeonjun flicks his fingers to gain your attention. “Soobin got wasted at a bar, I don't know why.” and you let out an audible, dramatic gasp, covering your mouth dramatically.

“Is it stress?” Yeonjun mutters, tilting his head as he sticks his thumbs on the belt holes of his jeans. “Anyway, I had to go pick him up and these thugs in the alleyway were staring me down so I had to— uh, yeah anyways I know his parents are home and I didn't want them to see him like this and I'm sure he doesn't want them to see him like this, so...” he leads on, seeing if you understand, and you just nod along, eyes squinting.

“Don't worry, I get it.” you tap your brothers shoulder and walk past him to get to the kitchen, you're a man with a mission — you have your priorities straight. make food for hungry changbin.

“I have to take a shower. Those thugs were greasy,” he sniffs himself and scrunches his nose. “take care of soobin for me!” yeonjun says in a normal tone and you just hum in response.

as you make your way to the kitchen, you immidiately open the fridge and grab a carton of milk — you have been craving for cereal since you were in class. as you peek deeper inside the refrigerator, you see some left over tonkatsu and decide to heat it up for your guest. as you close the fridge, you hear a groan coming from the living room.

you knew it was soobin so you turned to satisfy your curious eye. you hadn't seen him in such a state and you would be lying to say you weren't interested. you grab a bucket from the sink cabinet and fill a glass with water, making your way to the living room, putting the glass on the table next to you, bucket still in hand you stop to examine him.

his forehead is sweaty, mouth slightly ajar as his breathing is heavy, chest heaving up and down as if he's running a fever and his eyebrows are furrowed as if he's having a nightmare, slight mumbles leaving his mouth every now and then. you certainly didn't enjoy seeing him like this... your mouth forms into a slight pout as you lightly slam the bucket on soobin's lap. “ya... you're really irresponsible you know that.” you mumble, even though he's half-conscious right now. you tut and turn around to go back to the kitchen.

but before you do, you give soobin one last look and sigh as make your way back.

“yeonjun-ah...” you hear him mumble.

“what? what.” you turn around in anger... you know you shouldn't take it out on him but you can't help it, plus, he's not in his right mind now anyways. you wish he wouldn't do it again... you wish you could conk his head right then and there but it would probably worsen his condition.

“m' head hurts...” he mumbles as he shifts on the couch, the bucket falling off and making a loud clatter and you rub your own forehead in frustration, hand on your waist before going to the kitchen to prepare a cold towel for his headache, coffee and hangover soup your father had taught you and your brother to make a few months prior, even though at the moment the two of you were doubting everything and telling your father that it wouldn't be convenient since the both of you swore if you were ever going to drink, you would do it responsibly... well, boy did you think wrong that it wouldn't be convenient.

as the soup is in preparation, you slowly walk to the living room with a coffee mug and cold compress in your hands, soobin seems to be fast asleep and in less pain than earlier, but he's burning up as you place a hand on his neck and forehead. you sit next to him and gently wipe his sweat with the cold towel, you lean in closely closely take in all of his features as you wipe every curve and detail of his face. you've never been this close to him in your entire life, and you couldn't help it.

his cheeks are so... squishy... and... his lips are so soft, you wipe the towel repeatedly over his lips and it takes everything in your spirit not to squish his entire face with your bare hands, you swear he's a living squeaky toy... but you don't. you abruptly stand up, sigh and nudge soobin's leg to wake him up. “hey... i made you coffee.” you say quietly and he looks around, a little confused... he nods with a low hum. you can tell he's a little embarrassed... i mean, who wouldn't be in this situation? you hand him the cold towel. “put this on the back of your head. it'll help.” and soobin reluctantly takes it from you.

“y/n-ah!” you hear changbins loud voice down the hall and you immidiately go to the hallway in a gremlin pose, placing a finger to your lips, your other hand pointing toward the living room.

“shhhhhhhhhhhh!”

changbin just squints and nods as he also places a finger to his mouth, playing along before staring into the living room to see soobin drinking the coffee, and he walks into the kitchen staring at your messy work. “what's all this? and what happened to soobin?” he says in a more soft-spoken voice.

“It's a hangover soup.” you state matter-of-factly as you grab the ladle. “oh yeah, i reheated you tonkatsu if you want.” you say as you grab the bowl of cereal you had set aside, eyes flicking over to his. “ya, did you check my work? is it good?” you ask.

“Uh-huh,” he grabs the bowl of tonkatsu and stares at you. “You're an English pro.” he says with the most American accent and you just scowl and do a motion like your about to hit him with your ladle hand.

“y/n...” you hear soobin's soft voice call out as he enters his tall figure into the kitchen, both you and changbin fling your heads toward his direction so quickly you swear you got whiplash, and he just stares at the two of you, a little dumbfounded a red blush plastered on his sweet cheeks... an innocent look on his face as if he didn't just — “ah... changbin...” he mumbles, a little surprised to see his classmate. he knew he was tutoring you, he just didn't know he was tutoring you tonight. tonight of all nights.

he turns to look at you, wide innocent eyes “I just wanted to say thank you for the coffee, and... can you please tell yeonjun that I'm going to head home now...?” he mumbles shyly. and you just stare at him, dumbfounded— the audacity???

“what do you mean?” you ask, a little annoyed. “I'm making you hangover soup right now, can you at least wait?” you ask as kindly as you could and changbin just stands there, hands together, an awkward stance.

“ah, well... i don't want to be a bother... anymore...” he says as he rubs his eye and looks anywhere but you. it's as if he's talking to an abusive authority figure, and you just shake your head. what's the use of being ashamed now? you let out a disappointed sigh and turn back to the stove.

“it would be a bigger bother if you left now, I'd have to store it in the fridge and my parents will wonder why i made it... also, i already started so just... wait for it. please.” you explain and he just nods along. whatever made you happy would make him... well, less sad.

“oh... sure.” he nodded

“y/n-ah!” you hear yeonjun walking down the hall toward the kitchen. “is soobin doing alright— geez! you all scared me!” he looks around the room before walking inside with a strut, standing in front of soobin, a little amused at the collection of people. “is this a surprise intervention? what's going on?” wiping his hair with a small towel, making eyes at all of you.

“ah, well...” soobin looks around the group awkwardly before suddenly doing a 90 degree bow, eyes clenched. “I am very... I deeply apologize...! I promise it won't happen again!” he yells out with a stutter at the beginning of his apology, he's practiced it in his head prior but it didn't come out as he'd intended. wincing as his own loud voice had hurt his senses. eyes remaining closed in hopes that he could stop time then and there as to not await any unexpected reaction to his shameful behaviour of underage drinking.

“What is this?” yeonjun snickers as he walks past soobin toward the refrigerator behind him, slapping his butt with the towel he had around his neck. “don't be like that. we've had our up's and down's, yeah? this is nothing compared to what we'll go through as idols.” he said as he opened the fridge and grabbed an energy drink, looking at you and changbin and he lets out a hum.

“don't worry, y/n and changbin will keep quiet as long as you don't make enemies with them. isn't that right, my brethren?” he asked a little condescendingly as he took a sip, you and changbin reluctantly agree with his arrogant statement and soobin still lightly chuckles along as to not be a mood spoiler — or maybe yeonjun was just a mood maker.

ever so, soobin remains unable to make eye contact with anyone in the room as he scratches the back of his head, honestly, he assumed everyone in the room would take him for some sort of failure by now. “I'm still very ashamed, I... can't face any of you right now...” he admits and yeonjun just pats his back.

“don't think too much about it, yeah?” he wipes his hand up and down as he takes another sip. “it already happened. as long as you know what you did wrong and won't do it again, yeah? if it happens again, that's ain't a mistake, that's a choice.” soobin just nods because he didn't want to be scolded any longer... even though he knows it's what he deserves. “what do you say? wanna go for round two?” yeonjun shakes his energy drink bottle with a cheeky smile and soobin just stares at him, eyes wide and mouth pouting.

“p-pardon?”

“I'm kidding.” yeonjun states firmly, his cheeky smile fading. and soobin nods in acknowledgement. “too soon?” yeonjun asks you and changbin who blankly stare at him in pure, agonizing silence and he just nods with a flat mouth. “okay.” he whispers. “come on, let's go watch ginny and georgia to feel better about ourselves as teenagers.” he wraps an arm around soobin's shoulder who reluctantly nods along and they go to the living room, his shame continuing to devour him and yeonjun trying his mighty best to stop it.

you and changbin exchange bombastic side-eyes before smiling a bit — yeonjun was always good at making light of a situation, whenever your parents would scold you two he would always try to cheer you up with silly jokes and funny expressions, and whenever your parents would scold him you'd be the one crying for him, yet he'd laugh and tell you it's alright. he was always like that, there's no changing him.

“this is probably gonna eat soobin up for a few weeks.” changbin says. “it's normal for senior high schoolers to drink. but he blacked out,” he adds, really expressing his intrigue as he leans on the counter. “but I guess it's different for him... he wants to be an idol... i mean, sure, it's not going to spread as long as we stay silent about it, you and i, but it's all in conscience. he wants to be a good example, an idol not just for future fans, but for his current juniors...” he turns to make eye contact with you.

“and mostly you.”

[fairy-tale-writer]

Rewards & Punishments

Divus Crewel x Fem! Reader

Prompt: Reader is caught goofing off in Crewel’s class and finds out the hard way how to be a good girl

Note: Teacher-student relationship, semi-public sex, spanking, bdsm themes, gagging, puppy play?, praise kink, cunnilingus, fingering, safe sex rough sex

Cheers!

You couldn't help it-Mr. Crewel was teaching a really boring lesson that day and that group chat you were in was blowing up your phone.

You had made sure to make it look like you were writing down notes when in all actuality you were typing. The chat was lit sending chaotic Kermit the Frog memes.

You had been distracted by digging into your meme file to notice Mr. Crewel's icy silver eyes had settled onto you. Your pencil wasn't moving and he watched you seemingly stare at your paperwork for a while.

He narrowed his eyes and strolled around the classroom until he stood right in front of you. Still you had yet to notice as you sent your share of Kermit.

"Are you texting during my class period, puppy?"

You let out a shriek of fright and accidentally tossed your phone onto the table. It buzzed as more "KERMIT" "KERMIT" "KERMIT" was spammed by everyone.

"N-No." You lied.

His eyes narrowed further, "Oh? Then why is your group chat open?"

"Because my friends were spamming me. So I had to reply back or my phone would be a distraction." You lied much more smoothly this time.

"Why not just shut it off?"

"No one in my generation shuts off their phones unless it's absolutely necessary to save power." You scoffed rudley.

"Place your phone onto my desk and then continue on with the lesson." He ordered.

"But...it's my phone so therefore it's my property." You defended holding it close to your chest.

"Or perhaps a trip to see Headmaster Crowley would be more fitting?"

Fuck.

You grit your teeth knowing you would be in hot water if you went to Crowley after that broken chandiler incident. You bit your lip with worry.

"Now or never puppy, make your decision."

You gave him a firm glare before you decided not having your phone for the rest of the class period was better than being sent to the Headmaster's office. The walk to the desk and back felt like a walk of shame. Like you were walking naked in a crowd as others shouted insults at you.

"Power off your phone, pup." Crewel ordered when you arrived.

You held back the insults you so badly wanted to spew at him and turned off your phone before gently placing it on the desk.

"Do not worry puppy, I will make sure it will not be stolen from you."

"Bastard." You hissed under your breath.

You knew he probably heard you but he didn't say anything, thankfully. Although it was a bit childish you didn't work on your lesson and instead sulked well doodling on your note book margins. It wouldn't benefit you and it certainly didn't benefit Crewel, but in some way it was satisfying.

To see him eyeing you as he walked by and find you doodling instead of actually doing work. He didn't say anything, but he did send disapproving glares your way.

Thankfully the class ended rather soon and you raced down to get your phone. Just as you were about to pick it up Crewel snatched it.

"Not quite yet, why would I reward a misbehaving mutt after they didn't finish their work?"

"Because that's unfair!" You snapped.

"Come directly after school if you want to get your phone back. You have to have a lesson with me as well since you spent your class time pouting and whining."

You reached out for your phone to grab it from him but he held it high out of your reach.

"Dammit! Give me back my phone you asshole!"

In an instant Crewel squeezed your jaw in a painful grip.

"It seems we also may need to have a lesson on properly addressing your teachers," He clicked his tongue as he shook his head.

You growled and ripped yourself away from him grip.

"Do have a good day now puppy."

You wanted to spit a rather dirty line of insults at him but held back and stormed out before you could get in more trouble, phoneless...

Determinations shined in your eyes as you snuck into Mr. Crewel's empty classroom.

It was the last class of the day and then you would be heading back to your dorms. You were supposed to be at class but you decided to skip it-just for a few minutes during the chaoticness of dodgeball-in order to get your phone.

You were crouched low as you wandered the classroom keeping an eye out for any signs of Mr. Crewel. If you knew the man right he was probably in the teachers lounge being bored out of his mind with Mr. Trein ranting away but you could never be certain.

You ran over to his desk and scanned the top first for any signs of your phone being there.

No, the bastard must've put it in a drawer. You raided his drawers becoming careless the more time passed.

Mr. Crewel could walk out any moment and see you clearly not where your supposed to be, skipping class, and messing up his drawers. Surely he would send you to Crowley if he caught you now.

"What are you doing?" Before you could react a gloved hand roughly grabbed your elbow pulling you to your feet.

You shrieked and turned to see it was the man himself.

Crewel.

"Shit!"

"That's right, you are in deep trouble now you misbehaving pup!" He spat.

You shuddered as his silver eyes blazed with fury.

"Why aren't you at your class?" He spat, his grip on your elbow tightening.

"I wanted to see my favorite teacher early." You said sarcastically giving him a smirk.

"Get back to class immeadiately. I will report this to your final period teacher." Crewel lat last let go of your elbow.

Before you could retort the bell rang signalling the end of the school day.

"I'm here. No I'd like my phone please." You held out your hand and Crewel grit his sharp teeth.

"Pup, you are making it very hard to control my temper. Sit!"

You glared but obeyed and sat down in one of the front row seats.

"Start working on the classwork you missed."

"Seriously?!"

"Dogs do not talk." That was basically Crewel's way of saying shut up and work.

You wanted to spit something back at him but you instead settled for giving him the finger behind his back.

"Oh and pup-if you do want your phone back you have to do actual work. If you pout and glare the entire time you won't get your treat."

Reluctantly, you obeyed and got to work on the potions. You should be top of the class-your tests and quizzes were immaculate-if only you actually did your work.

"Done!" You announced curtley slapping your notebook on his desk.

Crewel looked up from his phone to give you a harsh look before gazing down at it. With a red pen he checked to see if everything was correct leaving little tick marks behind.

"Hmph. It seems you did a rather good job, pup."

"Now can I have my phone back?" You huffed.

He frowned, "You still have yet to learn your lesson."

"My lesson?"

"In respecting your elders."

"Tt, you are certainly elderly." You snickered.

"Your detention has been extended."

"What the hell?!" You shrieked.

"Pup-"

"Just give me back my phone or I'll report you to the Headmaster for abusing your position!"

Crewel laughed and your face flushed with anger.

"And tell him what? You are behaving like a brat-a puppy that nips and bites the hand that feeds-Crowley would instead punish you."

"You jerk!" You screamed with anger, your fists curled tight, "You! you fucking bastard! You're an asshole who fucks animals and then skin them!"

Further harsh words slipped past your lips uncensored and unbridled. Words that should never be thrown as insults towards another being.

Crewel suddenly stood from his chair and all that overconfidence dissolved into nothingness. You took several steps back from his terrifying gaze. Your breathing became heavy and your chest rose and fell with gasping breaths.

"Mr. Crewel...I didn't-I wasn't thinking-" You raised your wrists to protect your chest.

The teacher suddenly snatched your wrist and you shrieked. He leaned close and you blushed seeing his handsome face up close.

"Clearly I have to show my pup how to respect their owner." He said lowly.

Before you could react he pulled you over to his desk and guided you to lay across it so your butt was left up in the air. You quickly realized what position in you were in and tried to struggle.

Crewel grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and pushed you back down.

"Stay!" He ordered.

"This is wrong!" You blurted.

"Would you prefer I send you to Crowley?"

You hissed but knew that if you were to go to the Headmaster you would be expelled. Your skirt did nothing to protect you from the humility of this situation.

"You are done barking, pup?"

"Fuck you."

WHAP!

You shrieked out of surprise more than pain and shot up to stand. Something hard and thin had just slapped your butt. You dared to turn your head and saw Crewel was using his pointer stick to spank you.

"You bastard!"

He shoved you down onto the desk and whipped you again. Your skirt was thin and short and being bent over so low left your upper thighs very vulnerable.

"Enough pup or I will muzzle you!" He grinned and your face blushed.

"No witty comments?"

"You suck at teaching." You snapped.

Crewel whipped you harder and you cried out. He chuckled and gave you three strikes in a row. You dug your nails into the desk and bit down on your tongue.

He swatted again and you felt something deep within you start to warm.

NO!

No, no, no no!

You were NOT getting turned on by being spanked by Mr. Crewel-your teacher!

After a few more painful blows you felt your core start to grow warm and wet.

Fuck! No! You needed to stop this before you could expose yourself. When he lifted his arm you grabbed the back of your skirt and tugged down covering your burning rear.

"Move your hands, now." He ordered.

You looked over and bit your lip shaking your head defiantly. Mr. Crewel sighed and shook his head. He grabbed your wrists but you struggled. He took his pointer stick and slapped the palm of your hands a dozen times.

Tear drops sparkled in your eyes and you couldn't help but wail in pain. The man stopped when he was satisfied when he saw they were bright red-he did not want to injure you.

"Now put your hands back pup." He ordered.

You obeyed and he continued to whip your backside. Your rear was becoming very warm and the spring in your belly was curling tighter and tighter.

Tears started to freely flow down your cheeks at the regret. You shouldn't have been such a brat to him-you were just really upset by Crewel taking your phone away.

Revenge was the only thing on your mind and this is where it got you too.

Being spanked by him with his teaching stick over his desk.

How could you ever look at him the same? See that stick the same knowing it was used to beat your backside.

WHAP!

You whimpered at that one.

"Please...Mr.Crewel. Please stop!" You begged.

"I do not feel you have learned your lesson, pup."

"Please! I've learned!" You felt so dirty begging but you desperately wanted him to stop before he could notice the slick traveling down your thigh.

"Please!"

The next spank was harder than before interlacing with another recent one.

"For fucks sake stop!" You shrieked.

He did indeed stop allowing you a second to breathe. Your lungs were burning trying to hold back sobs.

"I warned you."

He slid his tie between your teeth and tied it behind your hair. You tried to lift your arms up to get it but he grabbed your arms and gave your palms three swats each. You wailed behind the gag and he shoved your hands beside your face again.

"You dare touch your muzzle and I will not hesitate to make your palms bleed. Understood?"

You nodded and he smirked petting your head.

"We are almost done." He reminded.

The next dozens of swats were painful. You were wailing your lungs, tears freely streaming down your face at the beautiful pain. Slick started to drool from your soaked panties down to your inner thighs rubbing together.

He aimed well for your sit spots and curves making sure you understood just how bad of a pup you were. You were going to cum if he didn't stop soon. As hard as you were trying to hold it back you were on the verge.

At last with a sigh he stopped and you heard the stick placed down beside you.

He gently hooked his hands around your upper arms and guided you to stand. Crewel gave you a smirk seeing your flushed tear stained face, drool leaking from the gag.

He undid the tie allowing your lips to be free to speak. A sob escaped your lips and he smiled stroking your cheek.

"Such a well behaved puppy when you are thoroughly punished. Such a good girl," He cooed.

You shuddered under his touch, but you couldn't deny you craved it. Crewel was a very handsome man and you couldn't deny you had a huge crush on him.

He sat down in his chair and guided you to sit on his knee. You whimpered feeling your well tanned rear burn against his hard thigh. Your hot core was no doubt noticable but you couldn't look him in the eyes.

He rested his hand on the back of your neck and guided you to rest your head against his shoulder. You sobbed into his warm fur coat as he pulled you into a hug.

Crewel guided your hands into his and turned them around to examine your palms.

He brought them to his lips and softly kissed the reddened, sore skin. You whimpered feeling his tongue slip out to lick at a certain spot that had a cut.

"My poor puppy," He cooed, "So close to coming undone but I stopped before you could now didn't I?"

You stiffened and he chuckled brushing his thumb to wipe some drool off your chin.

"You don't think that I can't feel the wet spot on my pants?" He chuckled.

You blushed and looked away feeling absolutely embarrassed. He took a hold of your hips and bounced his thigh. Without any control a loud moan escaped your lips.

"Such beautiful noises. I should give you a treat for being such a good pup, shouldn't I?"

You whimpered biting your lip.

"Shouldn't I, puppy?"

You nodded frantically, "Please..."

"Please what?"

"Please... Master..."

Crewel grinned and took a hold of your chin causing you to look him in the eye. His silver eyes gleamed with lust and confidence, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.

It was a gentle kiss, you could tell he was being soft since he was already so rough with you. His tongue softly slipped in and you allowed him to taste your tongue.

He has this oddly dark chocolate taste. At last he pulled away and licked a tear stain on your cheek.

"Go sit on the desk pup." He whispered in your ear.

You did as he ordered and sat on the edge of the desk. Your head was down and your hands were tucked between your knees.

Crewel smirked and pulled off his leather gloves gently placing them down on the desk.

"Don't be shy, pup." He said kneeling down in front of you.

You blushed as you allowed him to spread open your legs. He pushed up your skirt to reveal your cute panties that were absolutely drenched.

The man chuckled and grabbed onto the sides to slowly pull them down your legs. Your honey pot was deliciously wet and appetizing to Crewel's eyes.

He licked his lips and leaned forward to gently lap at the slick coating your inner thighs.

"M-Master... please..." You moaned.

He grinned and bit on your thigh.

"Yes, my pup?"

"Please don't tease me Master, I desperately need to cum." You whined.

Crewel purred and brought up one of his hands to feel just how slick you were. He inserted two fingers and your pussy eagerly sucked them in. With a smirk he popped them in his mouth and made a display of sucking them with his teeth.

"You taste divine." He purred.

You blushed about to say something when he placed his lips on your clit. A moan slipped from your lips as he seemed an expert with his tongue and lips. His tongue eagerly lapped you your juices well his lips stimulated and sucked.

His hands were gripped tight on your thighs as he ate you out well your hands gripped onto his hair. He moaned against your lips whenever you accidentally tugged. You couldn't stop the moans and whimpers escaping your lips.

"Master...I'm gunna cum...please lemme cum!" You whined.

He smirked, "Such beautiful begging. Cum for me, pup. Let me taste your nectar."

He suckled on your clit.

With a keen of pure pleasure you came, your legs trembling hard. You sobbed as Crewel licked up all you gave extending your orgasm further.

He finally pulled away and reached into his desk pulling out a condom and lube.

"You do this often?" You snarked despite being blissed out.

Crewel chuckled and gave you a soft kiss that only lasted a few seconds. You could taste yourself on his lips.

He released his cock that had been trapped in his pants for oh so long. It was bright red and dripping heavy globs of pre cum. It was just slightly above average and looked just as sexy as the man it was attached to. With a wicked smirk he peeled his jacket off and laid it on the chair.

He grabbed the condom and tore it open before sliding the rubber over his member before lubing himself up.

"Are you ready pup?" He questioned.

You nodded and he slid right in. You moaned feeling your walls spread for him. To help he rubbed your clit with his thumb as he pushed in deeper and deeper.

"Is this your first time darling?" He breathed hotly into your ear.

"No." You whimpered.

"Then I'll have to make sure the previous lovers pale in comparison to me."

He grabbed onto your hips and started thrusting. You wrapped your arms around his neck feeling his thrusts deep inside you. Crewel could feel your core clutching him tight, begging for him.

"You are so desperate aren't you?" He moaned, "Like a bitch in heat?"

"Yes... please..." You moaned.

"So eager, your tail wagging at the thought of my cock deep into your pussy cat?" He nipped at your shoulder leaving hickies and kisses.

"I should put my favorite collar on you... torture you with orgasms until you are tugging on the leash, begging for me to stop." He dirty talked.

You were melting in his grasp. One of his thrusts suddenly hit an area that made you see stars. Crewel moaned as you clenched down tight and sped up his thrusts nailing deep inside you.

You sobbed and clutched at his vest wishing you two were naked. You wanted to feel his soft skin underneath your palms. To feel your nails claw down his back.

The pressure in your belly was growing too high.

"M-Master I'm going to-" You keened feeling his thumb rub your clit.

He pulled away from suckling your collarbone, "Then cum, my little spoiled pup."

With a wail of pure pleasure-thst oddly sounded alot like Crewel's nane-the spring snapped and release washed over you.

Your nerves were on fire and your core was clenching hard on the man's cock that was brutally pounding into you. Your back fell against the desk sobs mixing with your moans feeling him in so deep, extending your bliss.

At last he came and you shuddered feeling his cock twitch violently inside you. Crewel slammed his palms beside you to prevent himself from falling onto you.

He was sweating and panting but he couldn't deny that was one of his top sessions. When he peeled off the condom so much cum had been stored in there. Maybe another time you can give him a blow job and feel that cum rain on your lips and face.

Your honey pot tingled at the thought but was too exhausted to make anything out of it. You wiped your cheeks with your sleeve at least trying to look presentable.

You saw him reach into his jacket pocket and pulled out a phone.

"Here's your phone," Crewel held out the device and you eagerly took it back.

"Thank you Ma-Mr. Crewel." You blushed in embarsment remembering you were the one who gave him the title.

He didn't exactly ask for that specific title.

"You can only call me Master during our...study sessions." He grinned.

"You mean...this isn't a one time thing?" A soft smile came to your lips.

"Hmph. You are lacking stamina and I'll have to see just how good your rebound is...but yes, indeed my dear pup."

You nodded and he leaned down to gently kiss your cheek.

"Go on now, pup. Go have fun."

"What about my...?"

"These?" He held them up and you blushed at the ruined condition they were in.

"These are staying with me."

"What?!"

"And it's rather windy today pup. Do be cautious on your way back." He purred.

You wanted to spew insults but you knew it wasn't worth it. With a sigh you wished your teacher a good day and walked off.

Once you arrived back to the Ramshackle dorm your poor honey pot was once again dripping. The wind blowing past your sensitive skin and the brutal fact that if you weren't careful the boys of the school would have a good look at it.

"That damn Mr. Crewel!"....

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Stu Macher HCs

This is a birthday present to my pal, @xxcatnissxx! Glad you've had a lovely birthday, my dear. You've earned it!

For context, I'll specifically be aiming this toward you and your personality :) I only do one shots and not HCs, though, so don't request them. This is just a special occasion. Do enjoy <3

You met Stu the final year of high school; perhaps you moved to town, or you simply changed schools. Either way, this peaked Stu's interest from the beginning. We all know how extroverted he is, so there's nothing more exciting than meeting a new person.

Stu boldly strolled over to your locker one morning and invited you to a party. You accepted, since it would be a good chance to make some new friends.

At said party, you accomplish just that. You meet Sydney, Tatum, and Billy. You especially get on with the girls. And because of that instant platonic chemistry, you become further introduced to Stu.

The following Monday, Tatum and Stu invite you to sit with them at lunch. You figured Tatum convinced him to induce you into the friend group, but it was, in fact, the other way around.

By the time August has gone by, you're completely indoctrinated in the friend group. You're definitely closest to Randy, though, since you're just as horror-obsessed. Sydney has Tatum and Stu has Billy, so naturally, you were drawn the most to Randy.

In fact, the group tends to tease you and Randy about dating. However, you appreciated that Stu was always the one to refute such claims. You appreciated it, although something irked you about it.

But that wasn't the only thing that irked you about Stu. You knew not to trust the popular class clowns, as charismatic as they could be. Stu was nice, you didn't mean to say that he wasn't, but you questioned his moral. Either that, or his and Tatum's relationship isn't chalked up to all that it seemed to be.

You didn't call it out, but you noticed how he told you good morning first. How he visited you at your locker during class breaks. How he sent paper notes your way during shared classes. How he always asked to have the little doodles in your notebooks when you tore out a page. And, most of all, how he called you after school several times a week just for the hell of it.

But he was just a nice guy. That's all. Right?

All of your worries were quickly overshadowed when Casey Becker, a classmate of yours, was found dead with her guts spilled out in the mailbox.

You only found out when Stu visited your locker that morning to walk you to class. You were still confused as to why the hell there were police officers and reporters scampering around , but Stu crudely filled you in. If Stu was this careless about the subject, you were thrilled to hear randy's take on it.

You were a bit shaken up by the murder; after being talked to by the cops, you quickly realized the murderer was a student at the school. It was blatantly obvious.

At lunch time, you noticed how shaken up Sydney was. Tatum had told you a while ago what happened to Sydney's mother, so she was taking it the hardest. but Tatum had that covered.

You were more focused on taming Randy, who was having an absolute field day. But you noticed how defensive Stu was at his accusations. 

The entire day, Stu was acting off. he was more withdrawn, which is abnormal. For a guy who only dated Casey 'for a minute,' he was caring a lot. It's understandable to be shaken, and maybe it was a blessing that he wasn't as clingy, but in the depths of your mind you wondered if he had something to do with it.

But the following morning, when you heard Billy had been taken in as a suspect, those thoughts vanished. Instead, you realized that Stu might be having a hard time since all the attention was on Sydney. Sure, she was having a hard time, But Stu probably was, too.

So, you spent your morning and afternoon hanging out with Stu. He was just as withdrawn, but not from you. He must've felt left out without his best bud to be there for him.

You were surprised when school was cut short. But you weren't surprised by Stu's immediate instinct to throw a party. You reluctantly agreed, despite having a dreadful suit feeling about it.

You arrived at the party early. You helped Stu set up everything. People eventually started showing up, and you were ecstatic when Sydney and Tatum arrived.

Stu stuck to you the whole night; at least, until he went off to chat with Tatum. When the pair returned, though, Tatum wasn't looking too good. In fact, she stormed off in the direction of the garage. Stu, on the other hand, was on cloud nine.

You went to follow poor Tatum, inferring that they'd broken up. However, Stu caught you first, asking to talk to you.

You agreed and let him lead you up to his parents' bedroom. He was quick to tell you that he and Tatum broke it off. And that connected all the dots.

And then your mind went blank; he kissed you. You were so stunned, you were only vaguely aware of how he was eagerly fishing through his pockets for something.

Before you knew it, a cloth was pressed to your mouth and you were pushed back onto the bed. Your instincts kicked in and you struggled, but it was too late. Stu was maniacally drugging you, and your energy was being drained.

...

When you came to, you were being shook vigorously while cries echoed in your ears. You were still groggy as Sydney pulled you off the bed.

You tried to steel yourself to the best of your abilities, though. The serial killer, in his scary stature, was in the midst of a chase. His knife was dyed red, which motivated you to keep running.

You two made it up into an attic. However, Ghostface was hot on your trail. You two climbed out onto the roof, but quickly lost footing, and you both tumbled to the ground.

It was a vicious game of cat and mouse. And all you could wonder is why Stu was doing this. But, when Stu was locked out front, some of the panic dissolved. but you weren't prepared for the betrayal Billy served.

The moment Billy shot Randy, you booked it. Your escape was cut short, though, when you ran right into Stu's arms.

You had never been so heartbroken. Two of your good friends were serial killers, and you were about to die.

But, while Billy was giving his villain speech, Stu was focused on you. you dreaded what would come next when he whispered in your ear :

"Don't sweat, babe. Nothing's gonna happen to you."

And you questioned that. Until Stu shot Sydney and Billy.

And from thenceforth, you and him were on the run. Or, rather, he was. You were a captive. And even with all of the sweet nothing's he'd whisper, you dreaded the day he was bored of you.

[xiaosmoon]

the boys as your classmate

pairings: albedo, childe, xiao, kaeya, kazuha, & thoma x gn!reader

warnings/content: fluff

a/n: in honor of my first week back on campus. wrote this while i was sick so yeah.

-> albedo

the put together guy with the most aesthetically pleasing notes. he is definitely the guy you want in your group if you're looking for an A+

albedo is the perfect student. turns in his work on time, is the president of the science club, & goes to country clubs on his off time. what more could you ask for?

all of the teachers love him no doubt, as does the rest of your student body. albedo truly doesn't recognize how popular he is. he gets gushed over all the time but just doesn't pay any mind to it.

he has the nicest clothes. sweater vests, plaid paints, necklaces, rings, and sometimes even wears glasses. not to mention he smells like freshly picked flowers.

if you ever miss a day of class, albedo has pictures of notes sent to you already with a breakdown on each lesson. he even offers to tutor you after school!

if you're looking for the perfect study buddy, albedo is your man.

-> childe

class clown, 100%

he never really takes class seriously and the teachers often yell at him. does that stop him though? absolutely not.

childe is popular and he knows it. he isn't afraid to flash a smile or two to get what he wants. might as well use all of his recourses, right?

he isn't in any clubs, although he plays tons of sports year round. basketball, football, you name it!

he tried lacrosse once but quit in less than a week because it wasn't "competitive enough."

more than likely, you're his tutor. you didn't exactly sign up to be his tutor because he's intimidating, but your teacher promised you extra credit.

childe was surprisingly easy to tutor. he listened to your advice and even took notes. (granted it was the worst note taking you've ever seen but hey, at least it's something.)

he teases you a lot on purpose during tutoring sessions. brushing his hand against yours, flicking paper at you, doodling on your hand, but it's all because he secretly has a crush on you.

-> xiao

half the time he's not even there?? it'll be a miracle if he even stays the whole class period. but he somehow manages to have perfect grades which baffles you every time.

xiao is usually quite. he never raises his hand in class yet he always has the answer. every time a teacher is convinced xiao isn't paying attention, they'll call on him purposefully yet he'll give them the correct answer every. single. time.

you noticed he doesn't talk to many people so once you complimented his hair with the most genuine smile on your face. he uttered a bored thanks which made you feel embarrassed. what you didn't know was that xiao's heart was beating 100 miles per hour.

he's always thought you were cute. he once sketched you in the middle of class but crumpled it up straight away because he thought it was creepy.

he isn't in any clubs, but he does hang around near school and skates with his friends.

whenever he works up the courage, he'll be the one to greet you first next time.

-> kaeya

the class smooth talker. flirts with everyone just for the fun of it. it's not like he intends anyone to actually get attached to him, it's just his idea of fun.

unfortunately for him, many, many people have crushes on him. he's had so many love confessions that he's a pro at rejection.

on valentine's day, his locker was stuffed with cards & flowers, so many that they just poured out onto the floor when he opened it. he didn't read any of them.

when he tries smooth talking you for the first time to get the homework answers, it was a punch to his ego. you didn't give in. everyone always gives in.

that caused kaeya's attention to be averted to you. why didn't you fall at his feet like everyone else at this school? naturally he tried to befriend you.

even when you showed no interest he kept pushing, determined to figure out why. were you not attracted to him? impossible.

but that only made his will to find out stronger. he would never upright as you why, of course not. but while searching for the answer, spending all of this time with you, the feelings that bubbled in his chest began to came to life.

all of the words that came out of your mouth began to sound like the sweetest melody. when your body accidentally brushed against his, kaeya's skin felt on fire. had he actually fallen for someone?

-> kazuha

the poetical one, obviously. no one knows it, but he writes all of the school play scripts. his english teacher was at tears with his work and begged him to help out with theater.

kazuha is usually by himself, not that he minds it. he's always quite in class and usually never talks. you always catch him doodling in his notebook though.

when you finally get the courage to speak to kazuha, you learn that he's actually very friendly! kazuha shared a few of his literature works with you in hopes that he can draw some more inspiration.

when you learn that he was the one who writes the school plays, you were in absolute shock. no wonder everyone was overly emotion at this year's beauty and the beast.

kazuha once encouraged you to try out for the lead role. you declined immediately, knowing you could never act in front of hundreds of watching eyes. he secretly signs you up anyway.

-> thoma

the nice boy. always helping out teachers, having great grades, & is the president of the animal rescue club. what's not to love?

he's definitely won homecoming court. and on top of everything else he's on the basketball team.

totally the type you wanna bring home to your parents. underneath his perfect appearance, people failed to realize how much of a softie this man is.

he doesn't realize when girls are hitting on him and it's the funniest thing ever to you. you always tease him for it but thoma brushes it off as "they were just being friendly."

he would never tell you, but you've been his crush for a while. you guys have been best friends since forever, so why hasn't he made a move?

mostly because he's afraid of putting the friendship at risk. he doesn't want to lose you because of something as dumb as feelings. so he'll keep quite about it.

[writingsbychlo]

mistletoe magic | stiles stilinski

word count; 10,490

summary; stiles learns that his cute neighbour might be a witch after accidentally getting her spellbooks delivered to him instead.

notes; I know a witch!au isn’t a huge au for stiles, because he’s had evident races of magic throughout the series anyway, but just enjoy it!

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, use of magic

It had been a pretty regular Monday morning for Stiles.

At six sharp, he’d been up and awake, barely functional but stumbling through his apartment and clicking on the coffee machine, before hopping into the shower for a quick wash. When he’d emerged, the machine had just finished grinding, as always, his routine functioning like a well-oiled machine now, and he’d moved it all across into a to-go cup and left it on the counter before going to get dressed.

He’d stumbled around to find his school books and shove them into a bag, eaten two cinnamon pop tarts that had burned the tips of his fingers when he’d grabbed them straight from the toaster, and had still been chewing as he shoved his keys in his pocket and sipped at his coffee, straight into the elevator at twenty to seven.

It was a fifteen-minute walk across campus to his early morning lecture on a Monday, leaving him with a few minutes to spare, in case he saw the sweet older lady from two floors down and wanted to say ‘hi’, or the cute neighbour who lived across the hall that always made him fall over his own feet, or maybe even the kid who delivers newspapers and is always falling off of his bike. He made it on time, took some great notes, and was feeling a little more alive and welcome into his day.

At exactly ten past one, he’d been home, having gone to the library to get some study in and find his new books, and get lunch at the diner he always ate at after classes, a cheeseburger and curly fries, and grabbed his letters and a parcel from the mail slot with his housing number printed on, tucking the package under his arm and heading upstairs and back to his flat, ready to flick through his bills.

All according to plan. One year and four months away at university and he knew every day like he’d been doing it for a decade, so he was only half-way to the kitchen when he remembered the package he was clutching under his arm, coming to a complete halt, throwing the usual assortment of envelopes away to the counter, and producing the neatly wrapped bundle.

He didn’t question it, not even bothering to look at the front, figuring it was just an early delivery on the textbooks that he wasn’t expecting to get here for another three weeks, finger slipping under the folds of the brown paper and tearing it away, fingers dancing over the covers of the books, before his brows were furrowing once again.

These were definitely not his ‘intro to psychological profiling’ textbooks.

Beautiful swirls in gold, carved into dark leather across the front, Latin words he didn’t understand before he was opening the cover, brushing off a layer of dust and letting one brow arch up. The text inside was English - though, no modern - and paper that he was cautious to take care of, simply from what appeared to be the age of it, stained and worn, finger marks clear on the corner from being passed down through generations. It was handwritten, drawings in old ink that had leaked onto the paper a little, rough and coarse, and labelled doodles with names he had never heard of before.

At a glance, he would assume it to be some kind of witchcraft.

He felt on edge, suddenly. He’d left Beacon Hills to come to somewhere that no supernatural would follow, where things like werewolves were still a myth, something to be laughed at, and he swallowed thickly, looking around his apartment as though someone was going to jump out. He loved his friends, he really did, and he didn’t so much mind the supernatural when he was with them all because they protected him, but alone out here, he and his bat didn’t stand a chance.

Now, it was Christmas, he knew this from the poor excuse of a tree up in his living room, and the snow outside, and the fact that for the last six weeks, his usual mochas had been a gingerbread-spiced mocha, on the insistence of the barista who served him whenever he ventured into the little coffee shop joint, and he was growing find of it. So, he tried to be optimistic, in the spirit of festivities and all that, and texted the group chat, waiting to see if any of them had sent him the books as a present, maybe even his father or Melissa. He even texted Parrish.

Except, they all said no, and now, he was stumped. Then, as he was being extra nosey and flicking through the book, he came across a page marked with a small slip of card, the item falling out, and he cursed, having no idea which page it came from, but as he picked up the piece of paper, one of the questions in his puzzle finally gained another piece towards the jigsaw.

‘(Y/N), the spell you’re looking for is here, but be careful, it’s a strong one.’

So, the books are for his hot neighbour, the next number up from his, and it now made sense as to why he had these books - they were a mistake. It opened a new question, however, as to why you would be getting them.

He had absolutely no patience, barley remembering to flick the catch on his door so that he’d be able to get back inside, before he was striding across the hall in one, two steps, and knocking on the wood. He could hear you shuffling around inside, the soft and muffled notes of the classic rock music you’d been listening to getting turned right down to low. It only took you a further few seconds until you were opening the door, but it felt like years to him with his impatience, fingers tapping against the books agitatedly, biting the nail of the other thumb, and his foot was tapping against the floor.

When you opened the door, though, he felt like it was too soon, like he wasn’t prepared for what to say, his breath hitching in his throat as his heart leapt in his chest, eyes sweeping down along your body and widening at your bare legs, only a t-shirt hanging on your frame, rising up to reveal the edge of a pair of white lace panties as you opened the door, and he forced his eyes back up to yours, wincing as he bit down a little too harshly on his nail, and pulled it from his mouth, shaking it as his dropped to his side.

“Hey, neighbour.”

“H-Hi. Hello. Yes, hi.” He already wanted to die a little bit, he hadn't stuttered this much in front of a pretty girl since junior year in high school, even Lydia had lost this effect on him, and college really had been a growing experience for him. He’d had a fair few hook-ups, and experimented, and he wasn’t shy about flirting when he wanted to, but you always through hi right back through loops, like he was still that kid with a buzzcut.

“What can I do for you, four-A?”

“Stiles. My name is Stiles.” He waited for the usual reaction, the cringe, the eyebrows shooting up, the scowl, something to indicate that you had actually heard the pronunciation, but you only smiled a little wider.

“I know. After I introduced myself and you fell over and didn’t give me your name, I checked the mail in your post-slot. I was curious. There was a lot addressed to Mieczysłav, but then one with a handwritten address to Stiles.” You shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, and crossing your arms, and while you might seem casual, at least his degree was coming in useful for something, as your body language read an entirely different reaction, insecurity and worry rolling off of you in invisible waves of tells.

He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, laughing slightly. “That sounds like something I would do.”

Silence fell between you both for a second, and he couldn't help but stare, taking in every detail of your face, the way your lower lip was a little reddened, and he figured you must have been nibbling on it while working, and your hair was messy, an attempt to pin it back that seemed to have come loose and entirely ineffective, presumably from dancing, because you looked a little flushed. When you raised your brows at him a little, he realised you were waiting for him to explain himself, why he was on your doorstep, and he flushed with embarrassment shaking his head clear.

“I got your spellbooks by mistake.” He held them out, eyes widening even more, before his jaw was dropping open. “Book. Regular books. Not spell books, because that would imply magic, right? And, that’s dumb. Just regular books. I didn’t look at them, at all, not even a little bit, I promise.”

“You don’t believe in magic, then?” You took them from him, a coy smile on your lips, and you placed them down on the counter beside the door, pushing a bowl of potpourri getting pushed aside, along with your car keys and what looked like an incense burner.

“Do you?”

He was testing the water, seeing where your mind was at, and as a whistling came from your kitchen, you glanced back over to the kettle on the hob, and he thought this conversation might be about to come to an end. “Well, I think there’s always a little magic in life, even if people don’t notice it. You have to believe in magic to be able to see it. It’s like the supernatural that way.”

“And, you believe in the supernatural, huh?” He felt bad for the way he said it, because it was mocking, but he had to be sure that you weren’t messing with him, or spying on him, he had to try and find out who you were, but you only looked away as the whistling got louder, opening the door a little more and waving him inside as you walked away, and he stumbled after you and closed the door before his mind had even caught up with the movement of his feet.

Your apartment was littered with plants. The windowsills were lined with them, all brought green and blooming, even though he was sure it wasn’t the right season, and there was even a set of cactuses along a shelf near the corridor. There was a homey feel to your place, almost earthy, neutral tones and soft accents, a smell that was so calming he felt his own muscles begin to relax, and the music had changed from classic rock to some country song he was sure he’d heard in a movie somewhere but couldn't quite place it, and he followed you to the kitchen.

Rows of cookbooks and recipe folders stacked up on top of a lower cupboard, and he swallowed thickly, averting his gaze from the way your lace panties hugged your ass deliciously as you reached up for a mug, bringing back two, and pouring them both full of the herbal concoction you’d been making. On a mismatching saucer, you offered it to him, and he sniffed it carefully, but remembered his manners, mumbling a ‘thank you’, because his mother raised his right, even if he was a little suspicious of you.

“Relax, Stiles, if I was going to poison you, I wouldn’t be giving you tea made of Valerian and Lemon Balm. Do you want any honey, honey?” You grinned a little at your joke, but he shook his head, watching as you stirred a spoonful of the sticky sweetener into your own, and taking a tentative sip after blowing on the surface. It wasn’t all that bad, he had to admit, and he found his tensions slipping away a little. “It’s for relaxing, and helping with sleep.”

“It’s good.” You smiled, blowing lightly on your own, and he decided that he could busy himself by checking out your posters. An interesting arrangement, one was a band poster, the other was a chart with the phases of the moon, a third with diagrams of plants and little facts underneath, and the fourth, with symbols and drawing he didn’t quite understand. “So, you’re really embracing that whole witch thing, then?”

“Well, seeing as I am a witch, I would think it’s only appropriate.” He tried to hide his grin behind his mug, shaking his head a little, not believing that they really existed, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes, clearly, because there was a playful kind of offence flashing across your face. “You can’t tell me you think I’m insane, not when there’s so much of the supernatural all over you, Stiles.”

“The supernatural? Really?”

“So, you’re not the emissary to a pack of werewolves?” You challenged, his jaw dropping at the accuracy of it, and it was your turn to laugh at him. “It’s literally stitched into your aura, I sensed another supernatural the second you walked into the building.”

“I just associate with a lot of ‘em, but I’m not supernatural myself.”

“You sure about that?” He stilled, memories flashing behind his eyes of a time when he once was, and you seemed to pick up on the slightly sour mood he’d taken on, then again, he wasn’t really sure where your abilities lay, being that Scott or Derek would have simply sniffed it out on him. Your hand on his arm snapped him back to the moment, fingers squeezing lightly at his bicep. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“There was a possibility, once, but it’s gone. There’s a dark chapter in my past, and the spark I was told I once had disappeared when I got through it.”

It went quiet again after that, your fingers slipping down from his arm to take his, and you placed your cup down, the steaming brew barely touched, but he followed suit, letting himself be pulled along as you directed him back to the living room. You were distracting him, it was an obvious ploy, but he was excited to learn, and he let the sadness of remembering his possession fade away as the thrill of new knowledge took over. “I can tell you have a lot of questions, so, what do you want to know first?”

He rubbed at his chin, settling down onto the couch at the edge of the room, finding it surprisingly comfortable, and you were busying yourself around him, a little water jug in your hand as you nurtured the abundance of houseplants you owned. “How did you know about my pack? And how much do you know about them?”

“It’s in your aura, I suppose. I can just pick up hints of different things when you’re around. The wolves are obvious, I’ve been around a lot of wolves. I also get death, and I've never met a banshee, but I assume that’s what it is. I knew you were the emissary because you’re the only magic in there, I would sense other traces on you, and there’s something else I can’t quite place.” Your face screwed up a little bit as you thought about it, nose wrinkling adorably before shrugging. “Like a werewolf, but not quite. I can’t get it.”

“She’s a werecoyote.”

You paused your pouring, turning to look at him, eyes flicking lightly around his being, before smiling slightly to yourself, and going back to your task. “Huh. Interesting.”

“Have you been a witch your whole life?”

“Since the day I was born, but I didn’t know or start practising until I was older. It just kinda’ happens, comes out of nowhere at a certain age, you start to realise you have abilities.” You had moved onto using a dropper to give little drips of water to cacti and succulents, standing on a small step stool as you did.

“Do you have to go to a school, like Harry Potter? Do you have a wand?”

You laughed at that, a genuine and hearty laugh, and you finished up your tasks, legs folding underneath yourself and you smirked a little at him as you sat down and got comfortable. “You wish, Stilinski. It’s not like that, it's more of an earthly connection than magic. It’s why my plants are so healthy. I can brew stuff, make little potions-” You motioned a hand over the jars lining the shelves on the walls, his eyes scanning over each one, picking out the neatly written titles across the fronts. “-I can cast very light spells, but it’s not the sort of thing where you can curse people, or teleport.”

“So, you can’t curse people to turn into frogs?”

“No, unfortunately not.” He was sure your giggle was the sweetest he’d ever heard, and he dared to twist himself around a little more, inching slightly closer to you across the couch. “I can do some stuff, like make your skin break out or give you a rash that won’t go away until I let it, and I can even give you headaches and such, but I don’t like to dabble in that sort of stuff. I much prefer protection charms.”

“Protection charms?” His heart skipped a little beat at the way your face lit up as you nodded, and he was intrigued, interest piqued. “I could use one of those, y’know, I’m incredibly clumsy and often get into supernatural trouble when I’m home. Hasn’t been so bad since I got here. Will you make me one?”

Your eyes left him, bottom lip nibbled between your teeth, and for a second he had worried he’d messed up, unsure on how witch spellcasting etiquette worked, but then you were moving across the room, opening up the cabinet on the other side of the room, and inside the doors and wooden frame hung what must be close to a thirty different decorative charms. Some were dreamcatchers or garlands hanging on the inside of the door, others were handcrafted little ornaments sitting on the shelves and filling them up, and your fingers were flittering over them all.

When you found what you were looking for, you lifted it out, a dream catcher that was bright and colourful and a little odd-looking, before bringing it back over to him, and presenting him with it cautiously. “You already made me one?”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t let the cute guy from across the hall get any more injuries. I watched you fall over five times in your first week living here. You’re really clumsy.”

He felt heat rush to his cheeks, and yet he couldn't help the goofy grin that travelled across his features, not mentioning the fact that he noticed you sitting considerably closer to home when you took your seat once again. He was embarrassed for two reasons, the first being that you had noticed his innate penchant for ridiculous injuries, but more overwhelmingly, the second being that you still thought he was cute. College might have helped him bloom a little, but when he had a crush, he was still a bumbling mess, and he didn’t know quite how to respond.

He busied himself with taking in the details of the dreamcatcher. Somehow, despite this being the first real conversation that the two of you had ever had, passing and fleeting chats in the halls and elevator not counting, you had managed to capture his entire essence, he could already tell. The strings were made of wool, chunky and all different colours, a mix of yellows and blues, woven in together and tangled in strange patterns, but beautiful nonetheless, and the little accents were what made it complete.

A button that had fallen off of one of his flannels, he recognised the distinctive wooden piece, and it was woven into the design, along with a blue ribbon in the same colour of the jeep that was tied in a bow, and a wooden twig tangled in it. Dangling on more pieces of wool from the bottom was a keyring he was sure he’d lost after leaving it downstairs overnight, the Yoda on it looking cleaner than he remembered, and you must've cleaned it. There was also a black feather, and a sprig of some kind of dried herb that he didn't recognise, but enjoyed the smell anyway.

It was intricate and personal, and he felt chuffed just to know that you’d made one for him, a little security and peace washing over him to know that someone was out here looking after him, completely unmaliciously, simply because you wanted to.

“This is incredible.” You let out a breath of relief, he recognised it in the way your body slumped a little, and he placed it down carefully on the coffee table beside you both, reaching out to take your hand in his, and daring to lace your fingers together and squeeze in gratitude, and you held onto him yourself, gaze dropping down to your connected hands. In a bold move of your own, you lifted your other hand, holding onto his with both of yours, and his thumb lifted out to brush lightly over your skin. “You’re the reason I don’t get papercuts and splinters anymore.”

“And you are very welcome for that.” You teased him back, and an easy kind of harmony fell between you both, your presence being more comfortable simply having only just really begun to meet you than he ever had been with someone new. It was strange, to feel so relaxed and at home with you, the way you put his fears at ease and soothed every worry without even trying, making him feel welcome and accepted, like he’d known you for years, not just shy of an hour. “Will you tell me about your pack?”

“You really want to know?” He couldn’t mask his surprise, and you nodded, excitement gleaming in your eyes, and he felt a surge of pride swell up in his system at the idea of getting to boast about his friends completely honestly for the first time in his life. There was no threat, he wasn’t showing off their skills as a way to try and ward off a threat or intimidate someone, but he simply wanted everyone else to be as awed by them as he was, and he didn’t have to hide any supernatural secrets from you. “Shall I start at the beginning?”

“Is it a long story?”

“Very long.” He confirmed, a shy laugh leaving you, before you were shifting again.

“How about I go and make us some fresh tea, then?” You were on your feet, wandering away to the kitchen as soon as he’d offered his affirmations of the idea, and he decided to follow after you, already beginning to blather about Peter Hale.

Hours seemed to pass by, as he spoke to you, two more pots of tea being made, and you’d broken out your snack-store for him, before the two of you had ordered pizza. He’d made himself at home, too, keys and phone sitting abandoned on the table, shoes kicked off on the floor, and feet stretched out along the couch. You were sitting at the opposite end, your legs stretched out in his direction, and one of his hands was sitting on your ankle, fingers drawing patterns on the soft skin there absentmindedly as his other hand was used to gesture wildly around himself.

He told you it all, confessing right from the beginning as he encountered Derek Hale, who liked to lurk in the woods, which had made you crack up as he told you about how the man was basically now the alpha, even if Scott was officially the alpha, and he’d told you about Jackson’s kanima phase, which had made you crack up even more as you claimed he deserved it.

You’d been shocked by his homicidal English teacher, and comforted him when he spilled his heart to you over the nogitsune incident he hated to think about, accepting your hush happily, and revelling in the smell of your hair when you’d pressed in close to him, before retreating to your seat.

He told you all about the benefactor and the dread doctors, and about Allison’s death, which he still blamed himself for when he was on a low day, and you’d used your thumb to clear away the tear that had fallen from his cheek, leaving him blushing and breathless for a second when you’d pressed a light kiss to his cheekbone just after.

You had scooted closer to him and stayed there near the end of his tales, tucked under his arm, playing with his fingers over your shoulders as he rambled about how alone he’d felt while taken by the Wild Hunt, thoughts that he’d always kept locked up in his own mind, never having shared with another person before.

“You really got the short end of the ‘supernatural encounters’ stick then, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that is the understatement of the century.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, your feet nudging together on the coffee table, the reindeer themed fluffy socks on your feet playing with the patchy and worn door knitted socks he’d had for years, worn to keep warm during the winter, even though your apartment was nice and toasty, the heaters running and the radiators on, and it was much cosier than his place had ever been.

The Christmas lights on a timer had come on, flickering around the place once the light had started fading, hours flashing by in the blink of an eye, a hazy glow cast over the apartment and creating a whole new range of shadows. “Do you want me to make charms for your friends?”

He watched you for a moment longer, trying to discern whether you were serious, and when he caught no gesture of ill-will, or hesitation, or hidden-motives, he smiled. “You’d do that?”

“Seems like you all need it.”

He shrugged a little, smiling when you rested your forehead against his, fingers playing together still, but feet stilling in their game of footsie. “I can’t believe I waited this long to get to know you. You’re, like, the coolest chick I’ve ever met.”

His eyes fluttered closed, he couldn't’ help it, noses bumping together as you both simply drowned in the moment, in what the moment was leading up to, where you both knew this was going but were revelling in the simple but exhilarating tension that was crackling with electricity in the millimetres of space between your lips and his. You were so close to him that he could feel it more than hear it when you whispered some words he didn’t quite understand, your breath fanning over his face in a dreamy sigh, and it took his hazed brain a second to catch up, before he was pulling back just enough to catch your eyes, one hand coming up to rest over your cheek as he turned to face you fully.

“Oh, my God. Did you just cast a spell?”

“Look up.” He was hesitant to pull back much further, but did so anyway, and he chuckled slightly as he spotted the little green plant beginning to sprout from the ceiling. Vines were still strengthening along the beam, and the leaves were beginning to form right before his eyes, white berries hanging between the green stems, and Stiles shook his head, in complete awe as he looked at it.

You were staring up to, eyes focused on the plant as it bloomed and he assumed you were concentrating on its development, but he couldn't hold back anymore, two hands on your cheeks, pulling your face back to his, and your lips barely parted to speak before his mouth was colliding with your own. A squeak left you, and he wanted to grin at being able illicit such a sound from you, but the temptation to kiss was just enough for him to contain himself. When your mind finally caught up, you were kissing him back just as eagerly, a soft sigh leaving you. “You are fucking adorable.”

The words were whispered into your mouth, he felt you shake with a soft laugh under his hold, before you were holding onto him just as tightly in return. One of your hands wrapped around his wrists, the other sliding over his bicep to his shoulder, before slipping down underneath, and smoothing over the front of his chest. He puffed out a little under your touch, pulling away for a quick breath, groaning slightly at the way your nails dug into his skin as he did, and then, he was diving right back into you.

Your hand slipped down to rest over his heart, the organ thudding under your hand, and he felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest, but as he pressed a little further into you, a shock like an electrocution was racing right through his body, a kind of jolt that was thoroughly exhilarating, and he pulled away, eyes wide as he stared at you.

You looked just as shocked as he expected he did too, his hands dropped down as he watched sparks and electricity crackle between your fingers and his, your brows raising at him. “Thought you said you had no magic left after.. y’know..”

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it, your fingers weaving with his, a loud snapping sounding as a particularly bright flare went off, and he flinched a little, jaw dropping and a whine slipping from him as you contained it all the sight disappeared before his eyes. “So, there really are sparks flying between us, huh?”

He regretted the words the moment he’d said them, expecting to see on your face the same kind he’d always gotten from Malia or Lydia when he made those kinds of cheesy puns that only he enjoyed, even Scott daring to fix him with a bored or blank look, and Derek would simply glare, but much to his surprise, you laughed. It was fond, with a roll of your eyes and a huff to preempt it, but you laughed nonetheless, and he felt himself somehow manage to brighten even further. “That was cheesy.”

“I know.” He beamed, shifting a little, hands sinking down to your hips to pull you closer to himself as he settled back into the couch, and your hand pressed to the cushions beside his head, the other one coming up to weave into his hair lightly.

“I loved it. I am quite a fan of puns.”

“That’s good, because I usually have a lot of them.” He leaned up, daring himself to be bold enough to close that gap once again, and he could feel your lashes tickling his cheeks as you nuzzled into him a little more. “If I kiss you again, will those sparks happen this time, too?”

“If I stop controlling it, they will.”

“Stop controlling it, sweetheart.” He felt you move to nod your affirmations, but dipped his head in time, proud of his own reflexes as he caught your lips, feeling the hand in his hair tighten, and he was so glad he’d decided to grow it out all those years ago, because right now, he was losing all sense of himself in the way your nails would scratch across his scalp, or the delicious burning that flared over his skin for a split second when you pulled on his hair, before you were rubbing it softly, fingers working in tandem timing with your lips, teasing over his own.

That same feeling took up, a sparking that felt like fireworks, like energy surging through him, escaping at his fingertips in every place that he touched you, one palm smoothing along your back to somewhere that was definitely too lose to be respectable, as the other held onto your cheek still. You were taking control, your tongue darting out to trace over his lower lip, bribing him to part them but he needed no convincing, letting your tongue meet his own only a second after you’d made the request, equally breathy and needy noises escaping you both at the slow and wet drag of the muscles over one another.

His lungs were burning, lips beginning to sting as his assault on your mouth continued, his neck straining to hold this angle, and yet the more you kissed him, the more that the hazy feeling of getting to be with you like this raced through his body was the more he became addicted to needing more, chasing a high that he didn’t even know he wanted until now, like an addict finding his next hit.

You seemed to pick up on it all, as though you’d read all of his thoughts, because the second he’d had the lingering thoughts, you were settling yourself across his lap, a leg on either side of his own as you seated yourself down, and he couldn't help the way his hips bucked up a little to meet you, or the way his hand slid down fully to rest on your ass.

After all, as much as he’d gone through the make him grow up emotionally, physically he was still a horny-teen college boy, and you were one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, sitting half-naked in his lap and sucking on his lower lap while doing something with your tongue that was making him feel like he couldn't even breathe properly for how aroused he was.

Maybe you could feel the growing erection underneath of you, maybe you couldn't, but he’d stopped caring about being embarrassed around you about three hours ago when he’d had to tell you all about the time he’d once dropped a condom in Coach’s class in front of the entire classroom, and you’d laughed so much your face had gone red and you’d hidden it form him by pressing into his shoulder.

You were something he felt like he was dreaming up, like any moment now he’d wake up in a small puddle of his own drool with his face pressed into the desk of his lecture hall, the lights turned out and another note left by his kind professor to get more sleep at home, and to lock up when he left, before you were giggling a little at him, pulling away and stealing a few more pecks as you did, and he wondered if you really could read his mind, heat flushing his cheeks.

“Are you reading my mind or something?”

He felt stupid even as he mumbled te words, especially when it only seemed to heighten your entertainment, but you shook your head. “I can’t read your mind, I can just kinda’ sense your mood, I guess. It’s the connection, you were clearly thinking something funny, and I don’t know what it was, but I got a sudden rush of amusement.”

“That’s pretty fucking incredible.” He whispered, letting you peck his mouth a few more times, simply sitting there with puckered lips as he tried not to smile too much, before he was tucking hair away behind your ears and finally you were opening your eyes, and at this point, he really should learn to stop being surprised by new developments with you. “Holy shit, your eyes are glowing!”

“So are yours.” You winked, the bright purple being a shade that was so captivating and beautiful on you that he couldn’t look away, even when you leaned away from him to grab his phone, raising it up to snap a picture for him, and forcing his gaze down to it. Much like you’d said, his eyes were beginning to hint in with a faint purple, the neon shading beginning to drip into his irises and take over from the usual golden-brown that resided there. “You never made out with another witch before?”

He pinched at your ass for your cheeky comment, taking his phone and throwing it away to the side, grinning when you yelped at his painless attack. “I didn’t even know witches really existed before today. Besides, what makes you think I'm one? I had a spark once, but as I said, that died out. Nothing truly magical.”

“I don’t know, you’re having a pretty strong connection with me right now, aren’t you?” Your arms looped around his neck, snuggling in a little closer to him, and he bit back a groan as you shuffled in his lap. “I think you’re underestimating yourself, you just don’t know how to tap into your magic, you have to believe in it to see it.”

“You really think so?”

He was vulnerable and he knew it showed, he’d gone his entire life being unsure as to where all his energy and twitching came from, as to why he’d always felt a draw to the earth; the preserve and the woods, and justice and balance, and why he’d somehow fit into a supernatural world with far more elegance and ease than he ever had the normal one, and maybe this was the explanation. “I really do, Stiles.”

“Will you teach me?”

“I would love to.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and then to the spot below your ear, before flicking his tongue out a little to drag over the sensitive patch that lay there, before moving down your neck. He didn’t want to mark you without your consent, he wasn’t sure what was going to come of all of this and where it would go, but he was more than happy to lick and bite lightly at your skin, finding the sweet spot that made your hips roll down into his own and a sound of need and desperation to leave you that was like music to his ears, before his hips were bucking up to meet you once again.

“Y’know when you said that you could feel what I was feeling?”

“Uh-huh?” You were distracted, your reply seeming somewhat faded and distant, and he chuckled lightly, before making his way back up to your mouth now that you’d both had a chance to catch your breaths once again.

“Does that mean everything?”

“Are you asking if I know just how much you want to fuck me right now? Because yes, I do know.” He choked a little on his breath, your hand in his hair pulling his head back so that you could meet his gaze, your lower lip held between you teeth, flesh going a darker pink, and he longed to be the one biting that lip for you. “Trust me, the sentiment is returned.”

“It is?”

“Oh, yeah.” He wasn’t used to women being so confident with wanting him, being so unashamed of it, or of even wanting him at all. Most of his hook-ups had been slightly drunk make-outs and sloppy grinding, or booty calls and meetings in closets at parties. He got more action than he ever did in high school, he’d finally grown into his limbs and his looks, but that didn’t take away the surprise that still happened every time someone as pretty as you even offered him the time of day.

“Like, right here? Right now?”

“Been thinking about how much I want to ride you on my couch for like an hour and a half, now.” Stiles couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, lips parting as you ran a finger over his swollen lips, a cheeky glint flashing over purple eyes as you looked at him.

“You might just be perfect for me.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A toothy smile was offered to you, before he was pulling you back in towards him, hands slipping down to lay resting on your thighs as soon as your lips had found his once again. The heat seemed to have passed, and while the kiss was still completely intoxicating, there was something a little more tender about it, too. It wasn’t nearly as rushed and frantic, the sloppy kisses you’d shared as you learned one another’s ticks had passed, and as your lips worked slowly with his own, Stiles found that he much preferred this kind of kiss.

This was the kind of kiss that he could picture himself sharing with you in many settings. A sleepy, early morning kiss, when you were still between the land of consciousness and the realm of unconsciousness. Or, late nights, when he’d fall asleep while studying, and he would let you drag him to his feet and to bed. Or, simply when he would finish a lecture, or get you coffee, or meet you for dinner. The point was, Stiles already knew he wanted to kiss you at all times of the day, and to hold onto you, and to watch you brew little spells at the stove while holding onto you from behind.

Your lips were wet when you pulled away, eyes sparkling as you looked at him, a bright shade of royal purple, like silk and rich violet on flower petals, and you looked utterly ethereal. “Do you have any idea just how beautiful you are?”

“You’re sweet-talking me.” You teased, bumping the tip of your nose against his, and he shook his head.

“No, I’m not, I’m just being honest with you. I’ve been into you for a long time, even if I didn’t quite have my mind in the right place to actually say it.” You huffed out a little laugh, your eyes averting from his own so that you could try and hide your bashful little expression, but he didn’t miss it.

“Well, I’ve been admiring you a little, too. I should’ve had my deliveries sent to you sooner, if I knew it was going to end like this.” As if to punctuate your words, you rolled your hips down into his, reminding him of the solid erection pressing into his jeans, his fingers digging a little firmer into your skin, and he pushed your shirt up higher, the soft cotton of your panties revealed to him.

“These are just fucking sinful. Do you normally wander around your house in underwear and band-tees?” He tugged at it a little, before daring to tuck his hand underneath the fabric, trailing up, and a poorly-concealed groan left him as he found no further obstructions, fingers closing over one of your breasts, squeezing lightly as he palmed at your chest. “Well, clearly not all of your underwear.”

“I tend to, I keep it warm in here, for all the plants.” Your back arched up into his hand, one of your own closing over his outside of your shirt, as your other held onto his shoulder, fingers leaving crescent-moon shaped marks he was sure, and the rocking of your hips into his own only seemed to increase.

“I’d love to see you in one of my flannels sometime, just like this.”

“Give me your shirt and you’ll see it sooner than you think.” You teased, his brows raising, before he was pulling his hands back just long enough to lean into you, stripping the garment off as best as he could, leaving him in a thin black t-shirt as you took the item from him. He wanted to whine out as you stood up, choosing instead to replace the pressure of your core over his with his hand instead, palming at his cock through the thick denim, and you grinned as you watched him, yet he didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed.

You stood before him, draping his shirt across his spread knees as he slumped further into the cushions, getting himself comfortable and popping the button on his jeans, swollen lower lip being nibbled as you played with the hem of your shirt. Your hips were swinging to the beat of the song, and then, you raised the garment up and over your head, letting it drop away to the carpet, his jaw dropping as he looked at you.

You picked up his flannel, pulling it up your arms, and leaving it open at the front, just barely covering your tits. You were an angel and also the devil, tempting him to do so many wrong things. Stretching his hands out toward you, he beckoned you back into his lap, an act you were more than happy to take as you bounded over to him, a pep on your few short steps, before you were settling back into his lap.

“Perfect.”

He let his hands find the flaps of the flannel, pulling it open wide enough to be able to admire your tits fully, letting you push your hair back away from your shoulders for his unobstructed view. Sealing one hand around your waist, he dragged you up closer, until you were almost pressed to him fully, before dipping his head down. His tongue dragged over a hardened nipple, taking the taut peak into his mouth and sucking harshly, as your hand wound into his hair. You tugged, roughly, a groan that vibrated along your entire body leaving him and making you shiver, and you made the prettiest little noises above him.

He switches sides, making sure to give the other half of your chest that same kind of attention, leaving wet marks and stinging watches along your skin that would become bright purple marks in the morning to match the colour of your eyes, and he just hoped you kept him around long enough to see them when they did become beautiful and prominent. He wanted to see his good work, he wanted to see the way he got to mark you up and leave his touch all over your body.

“Stiles..”

“I do love how you sound moaning my name, princess, but I’m not sure how much longer I can last when you're making noises like that and grinding yourself all over my cock like this.” You grinned, letting him kiss his way back up your chest and throat until he was taking your lips with his own. Your hands were moving down, tugging at his zipper as far as it would go, hid hips bucking up into his hand as he felt you drag a nail along his covered erection, breathy sounds between you both when you pulled away.

He only had to lift himself up for a moment, before you were tugging at his jeans, helping him to get them just far enough down his thighs for his boxers to be able to follow. His cock was throbbing, painfully hard and desperate for you, leaking precum along his skin, and he gave himself some form of relief. You were watching him, eyes wide as he pumped his length in one hand, the other dipping under your skirt rubbing over your core, and you bundled up your shirt for him.

“Y’know, all those times I thought about us, a quick fuck on your couch wasn’t how I had wanted our first time to be, but then again, I didn’t expect the cute chick across the hall to be a witch, wither, so..”

He used his thumb to drag your panties to the side, your sodden folds revealed to him, and he slipped two fingers into your dripping core with ease. “I’ll let you take it slow next time, I swear, but right now, I’d really like it if you’d fuck me.”

He could only nod, heart skipping a beat at the promise of another time. Your legs shifted, muscles clenching as he forced himself to take his touch away from your core and bringing his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your sweet essence from the thin digits. As you leaned over him, he was sure to line himself up, and then, you were sinking down onto him, your forehead flailing to his as your mouth fell open, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispered the words, a little breathless and hanging on the edge of his orgasm already, and you seemed just as close, because as you finally sank all the way down and settled into his lap again, he could feel every pulse within your walls as you hugged around him.

It took him a moment, staving off his climax so that he didn’t come just from getting to feel you like this, and you looped your arms around his neck gently to find your purchase. Your nails were scratching lightly at the hairs at the base of his neck, his flannel once again flapping around you, panties pushed to the side to let him have access to your centre, and it was deliciously filthy.

Once you were settled, you circled your hips, a test movement, pleasure spiking in both of your systems and it felt like the temperature in the room was shooting upwards. Stiles could already feel sweat beginning to bead along his skin in a thin layer, and you pressed yourself in closer to him. Each time you shifted your hips you were moving a little more, every rock of your body into his, you were pulling yourself up just a little higher to be able to drop yourself back down onto his cock, stretching and squeezing around him.

You felt like velvet, slick and warm as you sheathed around him. You were precise and deliberate, and he couldn't help the wonton sounds that were leaving you with every drop down onto his cock, before you were taking him up to see stars every time, leaving the both of you resting in the clouds. Panted breaths, a scream in the back of your throat that tried to break out each time as you gave him broken moans of his name, picking up your pace further and further each time.

Once you were stable above him, you were moving with purpose, fast and quick as you rode him, gaining more confidence each time, and he was gripping you so tightly that there would be fingerprints all over your hips in the morning. He helped you go, lifting you up each time, only to pull you back down into his lap, thrusting up with a weak effort to meet you, but feeling you go wild each time. That same energy was back, crackling with more force, surging through him like nothing he had ever felt.

Stiles was in college, he was away from home and the weight of being the Sheriff’s kid for the first time, and he had experimented. He’d gotten drunk, and high, and hungover, but this was a whole new kind of thrill; it was like lighting up with fireworks and adrenaline all at once, like creating a bond with another person, and a tingling spread throughout his entire body as your magic bonded with his own. He hadn't felt this kind of singing in his blood since the day he’d managed to finish the circle with the mountain ash back when he was only sixteen, or breaking through the wild hunt barrier at almost eighteen.

These kind of thrills were rare for him, but they’d never been this strong, and as the two of you moved as one in the most intimate way that two people could, your mouth coming up to claim his as you silenced yourself and him, growing louder and more desperate as you went, he felt that final high beginning to build.

“‘M so close, honey.” His voice had taken on that same kind of scratchy rasp that he had in the mornings before he even broke into his day, “Oh, God, keep goin’.”

He knew his words were beginning to grow slurred, and he could barely buck his hips up into you. As everything within his body began to light up, he felt like all of his muscles were going lifeless, his body going boneless, because the heat was consuming him. He couldn't hold it back, he’d been waiting for so long to feel you this way, and his lips could barely even move back against your own as he went slack-jawed, exploding within your tight heat.

The send that he was shooting over the edge, you were following right after him, crying out his name into his mouth as you kept going against him, until you couldn't clumping down into his body as you trembled, and Stiles felt as though you’d milked absolutely everything from him that he had to offer. There was a crackling along his skin from everywhere that your fingertips smoothed over, sliding down from his shoulders so that you could press your cheek to the spot instead, fanning breaths rushing over his neck as you tried to catch your breath, racing heart just like his was.

You didn’t even bother to move from him, letting him throb within your walls with each flutter you made and each shift, and if you kept it up, he was sure he’d be ready for a second round, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he had that in him. Resting his head back against the edge of the couch, he let you lift yourself up and off of him finally, your legs shaking as you stood, offering him a weak smile as he took in your through fucked out state, before taking wobbly steps away from him, and disappearing down the hall.

He heard a door close, assuming you’d gone to the bathroom, and he leaned over to the coffee table to snatch up a few tissues, to clean himself up with, before sorting himself out too. He did the bare minimum, not even bothering to do up his jeans once he had them pulled back up, but he stretched out along the length of the couch to lay down, an arm popped under his head, and a little laugh on his lips as he did.

He took a moment to glance around, not missing the way that the plants all seemed to be blooming particularly beautifully, seeming more alive than ever. As he lifted up a hand before his face, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together, a spark travelled between the tips, and he felt a little in awe just at the sight of it.

“It's pretty incredible, right?”

He startled, jumping a little, before turning to look at you and propping himself up on his elbows as you lingered in the doorway. You had changed, your hair pulled back and out of your face, missing a few odd strands and you’d buttoned up his flannel along your body, mismatched and hanging unevenly, but still adorable. You took slower steps over to him, waiting for a second as you stood beside him, before he was lifting his arms and making it clear to you that you could lay with him, a smile gracing both of your faces as you flattened yourself along him, cheek pressed over his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“You like feeling your magic, then?”

He lifted his palm, holding it to yours and admiring the final dying flares he saw, as the energy began to dissipate and absorb into his body and yours fully. “I’m not used to feeling special myself. I’ve always been a behind the scenes, research, kinda’ guy. I’m not used to being one of the main players.”

“Oh, hush. You told me your story, you were most definitely a key player, Stiles.” He shrugged under you, letting you cross your arms over his chest and prop your chin on them.

“Yeah, but I never really felt that way, and now I feel like I have something to offer.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips over his jaw with a sweet kiss, and he felt like he could most definitely get used to this feeling. Can I meet them?”

“My pack?”

You nodded, seeming a little shy now, and joy raced through him at the fact that you saw enough of a future with him to want to meet his friends an get to know them, and to once again be able to be completely open and honest with everyone, never having to hide anything from anyone, and being able to let you fully and wholly into his life. It was a surprise, because the more he’d thought about his future late at night when lying alone in his bed, he was so sure he’d never be able to really settle down, because he could never let someone in on his life in every single way, but with you, that wasn’t a problem.

“I would absolutely love that.”

“Really?” You were studying him carefully, trying to ensure that he was telling the truth, and he gave you the most honey look that he possibly could, before lifting his head to meet your lips as he leaned in.

Soft and delicate, like a kiss that was shared between deep romance and longtime lovers, and he rested a hand on your cheek, holding you to him, and rolling you to the side, to sandwich you between the couch and his body Your thigh came up to rest over his legs, his palm slipping from your face to rest on your leg, drawing patterns on the skin until you pulled away to breathe, lips detaching from his as you whined a little. You stayed close, though, a soft look etched onto your features;

“I just want to meet a few more supernatural people, and get to know others who I don’t have to hide from.”

“Well, you definitely don’t have to hide from them, and you’ll love them, just as much as they’ll love you. We’re a pretty odd group, you’ll fit right in.”

“You’re right about that ‘odd bunch’ thing. I’ve never met a banshee, or a - what did you call it? - werecoyote.” That was an undeniable truth, your head coming back down to rest on his chest as he shrugged, unable to deny that you were right. “Your wolves sound nice, too. All the other wolves I’ve met have been overly territorial and closed off.”

“Well, Derek used to be like that, but we’ve pulled him around a little. He is still broody, though.” You laughed at his joke, a sound that made his heart burst open slightly and bleed with affection, all for you, as you continued to take more and more pieces of his heart with every act, and he was falling in love with you faster than he’d ever known was possible. “Don’t take notice of any of his lurking, by the way, it’s his twisted way of showing concern and care.”

“I’ll remember that, and if I ever catch him hiding behind a tree, I’ll know that it’s real friendship.”

“He does that, I’m serious, don’t underestimate him. I think my dad arrested him for stalking, once.”

“I think your dad would be who I am most scared to meet.” A fond tone in your voice, before he was pressing a kiss to your forehead, humming under his breath.

“He’ll love you the most, don’t worry.”

Silence fell between you both then, and he busied himself with tracing illegible drawings into your skin, simply enjoying feeling so close to you. It was irrationally domestic, and you were the final piece in his college life and college experience that was missing. Despite not being a  wolf, he was unequivocally part of a wolf pack, and being surrounded so closely by such a tight-knit group of friends for those years had made him dependent on company and reliability, and he had been feeling so alone since leaving for college.

Scott had Malia, Lydia had rekindled things with Jordan, and even Derek had been (begrudgingly, to begin) hooked up with a deputy by his father, and they’d been on a few dates.

The last time he’d been home, he’d felt like a fifth, seventh, or was it ninth wheel, when Liam and Hayden were taken into account? He had been feeling awfully lonely lately, and he was glad to finally find someone that fit him perfectly, matching him like a glove.

“When I do introduce you to my friends, my pack, y’know, and my dad..”

You lifted your head, a little crease across your cheek from the fold in his shirt, and he rubbed the spot with his thumb gently, an attempt to remove the mark. “Yeah?”

“What should I introduce you as?”

“A witch.” You deadpanned, and he knew immediately that you’d clearly know exactly what he meant, but were playing with him, and he pouted, fixing you with a mock glare, before you were laughing to yourself over your joke, something so undeniably cute that he couldn't even pretend to be mad about it. “What do you want to introduce me as?”

Nudging your jaw a little with his, he puckered his lips, tempting you down to kiss him, and you were more than happy to press a series of sweet and short kisses to his lips. “I’d really like to formally claim you to be my girlfriend?”

He mumbled the words into your mouth, feeling your lips flick up at the edges in a smile as you gave him a kiss that was a little more firm, a little more loving and powerful, before whispering your reply; “Then we’re on the same page, because I’d like to introduce you to my coven back home as my boyfriend.”

“You have a coven?” He pulled back, a gasp of shock, and you giggled at him.

“That I do. Maybe I should tell you about them?”

“You absolutely should.” He insisted, his craving for knowledge taking over, and he couldn't have been more glad to whatever deity was watching over benevolently that he’d taken the choice to stay the first time knowledge had been offered, because it had led him to where he was now.

“It might take all night, maybe you should go and get a change of clothes. Get comfortable.”

“Is that an invitation to stay the night?” You only nodded, letting him roll you back over onto your back as he kissed at your neck. “I’ll buy you take out if you cuddle me later?”

“Cuddling and dinner? Glad I get to call you my boyfriend, now.”

“Not nearly as glad as I am to call you my girlfriend. My little witch.” His lips sealed over yours, silencing your laughs against his mouth as you teased him for the nickname, and he pinched a little at your sides. The mistletoe overhead grew a little more, a few of the berries dropping away and bouncing off of his back as the plant became bolder, just like the rest, that energy beginning to grow once again, as you got lost in each other’s touch.

[meiparkers]

◟♡ sketchy.

sharing soft glances across the room with todd anderson.

pairing: todd anderson x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, todd overthinking probably

request: Heyy, so I read you were talking requests and I was wondering if you could do something fluffy and cute for Todd. Thank you <3 - @inlovewithdrreid

a/n: first request first request >:) ask and i shall deliver !! this one was a little self indulgent ,, but i enjoyed writing it a lot !! thank you for requesting <3

physics couldn’t have been more boring.

you were certain you’d need this information for the quiz later — but you couldn’t care enough to pay attention. surely, you could pester your friends for notes or something along those lines after.

welton academy had never been your first choice. or your choice to begin with for that matter. with extremely well off parents, they only wanted the best for their child, even if it meant basically sending them to prison to rot (not that they saw it as such anyways, they just wanted you to get into an ivy league college and this was the easiest way for them to do so.) though, you couldn’t entirely hate it.

you’d been a close friend to charlie dalton, a boy who’d been your next door neighbour and a fellow welton attendee since birth. he’d practically adopted you into his friend group upon your transfer, and they accepted you with open arms. they’d even done the same for neil’s new roommate, todd anderson. though timid at first, he quickly became one of the group as well.

though you hadn’t voiced it aloud, you knew he’d make a fine addition to the group. the two of you talked enough, having been paired up for a math assignment together one time. from then on, a bond had been established between both of you.

you weren’t sure what exactly your relationship was with todd, but over the past few months, talking during class flourished into conversations outside of school — whether it be about how boring the lectures were, or the most recent piece of art you’d sneakily put into a portfolio you were going to submit behind your parents’ back. subtle brushes of hands against one another as you two walked side by side, and the flustered expressions on both your faces when anyone pointed it out.

in short, your feelings of adoration and affection towards one another hadn’t gone unnoticed.

you knew you should’ve been listening to the professor explain how velocity worked, but any prolonged listening would’ve sent you into a nap. so, as you had your notebook out — seemingly to take notes of course, you sketched. you sketched the boy sitting across from you.

the sun seeped through the window over todd, the lighting making it seem like a halo had been crowned upon his head, accentuating his features with a sort of heavenly glow. his gaze was pointed downwards, looking at the textbook with a look of boredom and disdain. you did your best to capture the expression with the limited amount of time you had in class.

though, just as you went to look up to catch another glimpse at todd for reference, blue eyes had caught your gaze in their own.

it took you a minute to realize that you and todd had been making an “unnecessary” amount of eye contact. any attempts to look away first had been immediately foiled when todd had averted his gaze, his face flushed red. you too could feel your face heat up. now that was embarrassing. you quickly finished up your sketch, closing the notebook and tucking it under your arm as the bell tolled, signalling the end of class.

-

todd couldn’t focus. no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but train his gaze towards you, hunched over your desk, writing or doodling. whatever it was, he thought you looked stunning where you sat.

he didn’t mean to stare. not at all. it just so happened you’d turn to look at him just as he looked at you. that’s all. a simple coincidence. one that didn’t go unnoticed by charlie, who was seated behind him. he gave todd a sympathetic pat on the back, as he buried his face into his hands.

stupid, stupid, stupid. he’d made a fool of himself in front of his crush. certainly there was a reasonable explanation for it. if the topic came up, he’d blame it on a bug he saw on the wall or something.

hastily making his way out of class, todd must have failed to check his surroundings before leaving, when he suddenly bumped into another figure, causing both their books to tumble to the floor.

tossing out a string of apologies, todd had meant to grab at his stuff, when he’d noticed the open page. it was him, well— a sketch of him. it was a little messy, but well done and detailed all the same

“is… is this me?” it was a dumb question, of course it was him. anyone with eyes could see it was him. but.. he couldn’t help but look at it with fondness and disbelief. of all the people you could’ve chosen to draw during physics, you picked him. he was honoured.

you didn’t know what to say. if making eye contact with todd in class was embarrassing, than whatever this was — it was beyond that. there was no use in lying to him, he’d already seen it. “i— i mean, ah, yeah?” you weren’t sure why your response had come out more like a question, but it did.

“it’s weird, i’m sorry— i just—“ you began to backtrack, but you stopped yourself when todd spoke, just above a whisper. his eyes glimmered with admiration, and despite people trying to get through the halls, the two of you remained where you were. nobody else existed in that moment.

“i love it. i— i really do.”

i really don’t know how to end things i’m so sorry,, but i really hoped you liked it !! feedback and reblogs are appreciated <3

[bushdivingbushranger]

What was going to an all girls school like, if you don't mind me asking? :)

OK anon im so sorry this is so long and so convuluted I actually got so carried away jdbKJBGKSDBGH. i'm not even sure i properly answered your question i just got overwhelmed with Love for my same-sex schooling DHGKJSDFBHG anyway, if there's anything more you want to know lmk and I will try to be concise next time 💀

Essentially, my own experience at a single-sex secondary school was fantastic—however, I know my experience isn’t universal, especially since my school was a little bit different to most, I think.

That being said, I still think that sending your daughters to female-only secondary schools is something every parent should strive to do if they can. No other learning environment will ever be as good for girls as a same-sex school.

In terms of school staff, mine was about 95% female, and 5% male. The few male teachers we had were genuinely competent men and decent teachers, they were also watched like hawks. Our principal was female, all leadership positions in the school (such as House Leaders, Year Level Co-Ordinators, Department Heads, even the chaplain) were held by women. Our school psychologists, our nurses, our library technicians, our café ladies, our career advisors, our tutors—all were women. Our school houses (think like Harry Potter houses) were named after important women in our country’s history.

I went to a co-ed primary school. And whilst at twelve you might not have the words to describe it, graduating from a co-ed space, into an all-female space is really a giant weight off of your shoulders. You don’t realise how suffocating co-education is until you’re no longer having to bear it. It feels so much more natural, so much more free! You are welcomed as you are. You can be loud and unashamed of it. We joked frequently with each other and our teachers, laughed loudly and cared not whether our laughs were ‘ugly’. I found that teachers were far more supportive than they were in my co-ed school. For example, in a co-ed school I had been told frequently to ‘pipe down’ or to ‘reel it in’ from teachers, and more vexingly to ‘shut up’ from boys due to my boisterous personality. In high school? My teachers encouraged me to audition for the play because I had ‘great projection’. In every school programme (more on those later) that I was involved in, I was the one asked to give speeches about them at assembly. I was asked to be the lead of our house chants during our sports festivals. I was asked to join the debate team because of my passionate nature, which in primary school, had me known as ‘difficult’.

Likewise, I had a friend who was by nature quiet, and loved to draw. In primary school she’d doodled on the back of a work booklet, and when her teacher returned it, she’d taken off two points and had written a comment saying something about teachers in high school not accepting work that was drawn on.

Do you know what happened when she got to high school? Our English teacher had seen the eye she’d drawn on the back of our Romeo and Juliet test and had written, ‘beautiful!’ above it. The next test, she drew a two-headed cat with witches’ hats on both heads (I remember the left head was called Turpentine and the right head was called Esmeralda). Our teacher wrote, ‘wonderful!’ above it, with a smiley face.

The next day she got an email from our art teacher that had a PDF flyer of information on both in-school and local art competitions.

Anyway, she had questions and that teacher answered every single one of them. She also personally helped her select the works she wanted to submit. She ended up having two pieces shown in the school gallery, along forty pieces made by other girls. About five years later for our final year, on that art teacher’s recommendation (and tutelage!) she took all of the visual art subjects on offer. When she graduated, her final piece was shown at a public exhibition in our state’s capital city, that honoured the best pieces done by select graduating students in the state.

So yeah. Our teachers were pretty amazing. Of course, there was the odd teacher or two you would butt heads with but that’s just a universal school experience. Our humanities classes, like history, for example, often had a unit that would focus on the female experience of a certain time period. For example, when learning about WW2, we did projects on female resistance fighters et cetera.

We had health classes that were actually focused on female health. We learnt about female anatomy (even the clitoris! Though we were all about thirteen/fourteen at this time so we found it incredibly awkward to talk about), as well as symptoms of PCOS during our menstrual unit. We learnt about contraceptive methods and devices (however, as a Catholic school they did have to tell us that whilst these methods are available, the church-sanctioned method is of course, abstinence).

Whilst the majority of the girls shaved their legs and wore makeup, as someone who did neither of those things I rarely felt judgement about it (albeit, I think there was a little for my lack of makeup, but this only lasted the first two years). A good portion of our staff also did not wear makeup, I don’t recall this ever being commented on. And, by the time we’d reached about our third year, a good portion of my year level and the ones above did not wear makeup on a daily basis. Leg hair was not looked down upon by any of us I don’t think by this year either. In fact, if you were particularly hairy often your hairless friends asked to rub your legs!

We were never short of female role-models, our staff made sure of that. We had multiple days per year when guest speakers would come and talk to us, mostly these were women who were experts in their fields—whether that be neuroscience or computer science, linguistics and literature or mathematics, politics, et cetera. The only times we really had male guest speakers was when police officers (one male one female) came to give us an assembly about sexual peer-pressure and laws around sharing nudes that was basically, “these are common (male) manipulation tactics used to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, don’t fall for them”.

We were encouraged to take STEM subjects, and those of us that had taken interest in computer programming were sent to coding programmes in the city during school hours! That’s how keen our teachers were to get more women into the field! This was the same with the girls interested in politics, who got to go to Model UN events, as well as mock parliaments in the country’s capitol.

We had a lot of programmes generally. A few overseas ones for girls who were in LOTE (languages other than English) classes. A few interstate ones, too. And of course, local programmes and excursions. Most of them (aside from the LOTE ones which focused on immersion) were volunteer programmes aimed at helping women and girls. The rest were about furthering our own skills or learning new ones. Majority of these were year-level based, but a few depended on the clubs/groups/classes you were in. For example, I was part of the Writer’s Club, and we took an excursion to the state Writer’s Festival and listened to female writers as well as feminist panels. We also had self-defence programmes every year.

In terms of peers I generally found everyone to be quite amiable by the time we’d reached our third/fourth year. There’s a common myth about all girls schools being filled with ‘catty’ girls who are constantly bitching about one another, but I really did not find that to ring true. There were a few fights and arguments in the earlier years, I was part of quite a lot lol but that’s honestly… just something that happens at school, at any school. Largely, we were good to each other. If someone was crying there was always someone who’d ask her what was wrong. If you missed the notes on the slide, there was always a girl willing to share her notes with you.

I think going to an all-girl’s school, and not having that much interaction with the opposite sex generally for that six-year period truly does something, I think, to your psyche. We are socialised to look down on our fellow woman, socialised to look down upon ourselves. But actually being constantly surrounded by women, and almost ONLY women, really helps to undo that. Even now I could not describe the fierce love I have for all those women and girls I came in contact with during my time there—even the ones I bickered with. Each and every single woman I met there enriched my life in some way or another. I think that is the effect of consistently spending time in any female-only space: developing a true appreciation for women. It is the only reasonable conclusion to come to.

I have been out of high school for two years, and in university for one. Among the many men I have met since, none of them have even been able to hold a candle to the any women and girls I know.

Anyway. TLDR: it slapped, send your daughters to same-sex schools!!

[thatslikely]

lined-paper confessions - s.s.

lined-paper confessions - stiles stilinski x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of fighting (scott and jackson predictably), strict teachers

word count: 1.5k

a/n: head full of stiles rn... requests for our favorite sarcastic boy are open right now so send some in!

Why is every teacher at Beacon Hills High the absolute worst?

Mr. Harris had just rapidly climbed your (highly opinionated) mental ranks to number one: your new least favorite educator. Giving you after-school detention, for doing nothing but watching with horror plastered on your face as Scott McCall, Stiles’ best friend, threw punches left and right at a topless, water-drenched Jackson, who reciprocated every strike as if he were nothing but a reflection. Seriously?

Previously, you had simply been sauntering down the locker-lined hall, Stiles on your right, passionately ranting about some unnamed problem that had him on edge for the past few weeks. You two turned down the empty, cinder-block-walled athletics corridor as he continued to agitatedly let off steam; the setting was decidedly unromantic given the unshakeable scent of overly pungent deodorant and mildew that was all too familiar. 

You clung to every word emitted from his mouth with an almost comical frown like it was a mug of steamy hot chocolate on a bone-chilling winter day. To your disgruntlement, however, his ramblings were stopped mid-sentence when Scott and his wealthy rival Jackson tumbled out from the dingy boys’ locker room, hands clenched in fists and eyes flaming with fury.

Stiles bent down in a rush, poorly attempting to conclude the boisterous brawl with furrowed, concerned brows, but he looked not dissimilar to a toothpick compared to the two burly teammates. 

“Detention for all of you!” Mr. Harris spat venomously as he dashed to the scene, his voice ringing above the grunts and slams that came from the fighting co-captains of the lacrosse team. “Detention now, Stilinski, McCall, Whittemore, Argent, and Y/L/N! Come on!”

You were dragged by the ear to the vacant library, a place which you often resided in whenever you studied with Stiles (often about mythical creatures, to your confusion). Posters that looked commonplace in an elementary school lined the walls, vibrantly encouraging students to pick up a book, or pen works for a writing contest of some sort.

Golden strips of fleeting sunlight peeked through the slatted blinds, and three gum wad-dotted tables were beckoning for the group of you to sit for the next two hours, or until Mr. Harris would finally decide that your soul had rotted away enough to release you.

You were sternly directed to the uncomfortably stiff chair opposite Allison’s, whose eyes shot daggers wherever they glanced. You flashed her an almost unregistrable smile, as if to say ‘hello.’ Slinging the loose straps of your backpack over your seat, your gaze flickering through the pin-drop silent room immediately locked on Stiles’ figure.

Boy, was he perfect.

The unbuttoned flannel over his shoulders speckled with mud from some vaguely mentioned adventure, his soft, tousled hair, that always had a lock out of place, his freckled face, that always bore some goofy expression, all of it. You couldn’t get enough; nothing would satiate your innermost desire for your lips to meld with his’, for your hands to intertwine through the hallways before class, after class, whenever, wherever. 

One eyebrow-cocked, knowing look from Scott in your direction sent Stiles’ umber eyes to meet yours’, an almost confused look swimming through them. He opened his mouth curiously, surely to ask a question, most likely something along the lines of, ‘is there a stain on my shirt?’, but before he could, Mr. Harris seethed, “Take your seats, now.”

Stiles whipped around, not wanting to anger Mr. Harris any further, and he took his seat. The room was quickly conquered with suffocating silence, which the snotty chemistry teacher was bent on ensuring.

You unsheathed a doodled notebook from your backpack, eventually indenting its pages with inky black strokes of various weights and thicknesses. Your habit of penning loose sketches, vague outlines, began one day in math when the clock seemed to tick aggravatingly slow, and every word from the teacher became drawled further and further until they dissolved into the hum of the air conditioning and the chewing of gum: the rhythm of the classroom.

The unconscious lines eventually formed to a familiar portrait: Stiles. Some would be tempted to call him your muse, your kindling of an elegant flame of creativity. You’d always nod your head in complicity more than agreement, for the smart, albeit rebellious boy meant eons more than that to you.  

You had just hit your stride, your wrist’s movements thoughtless and easy, when someone- rather something, hit the back of your head lightly with a small crunch. It was a small, scrunched piece of loose-leaf paper, ripped at the edge. 

You turned your head to the direction that the projectile was tossed at, but both Scott and Stiles appeared to be very, very engrossed in a hushed conversation, neither of their postures attempting to suggest anything suspicious.

You smoothed out the paper of the angular fruitwood table in front of you, attempting to read the almost unintelligible handwriting.

Hey :)

(this is from stiles, by the way)

Your mood lightened a smidge, a grin bubbling onto your face. You tore a piece of paper out of your notebook along the perforation.

Before you threw it in an arch in Stiles’ direction, you penned a response to his note.

Hey ;) how’s detention treating you?

(This is from y/n, by the way)

Crunch.

not great, as expected. I think I saw harris pick his nose. do you have any bleach to douse my eyes in by any chance?

You chuckled a little, a small smirk glimmering on your face for the first time this excruciatingly long afternoon.

Sorry, I’m all out. used it all after I saw Jackson shirtless. how do you survive in the locker room every day?

A smile lifted on Stiles’ face, one so inflated with abundant excitement (and hormones), he might have burst at the seams.

“Man, you’re down bad,” Scott simpered, nudging his best friend’s forearm.

“Shut up,” Stiles hissed with an eye roll.

just keep your head down and you should be fine. one time, Greenberg looked at him a little too long and he nearly turned to stone, like jackson’s abs were medusa or something.

“Passing notes, are we?” Mr. Harris queried with a malicious scowl, his knuckles white from asphyxiating a helpless ballpoint pen. He slinked over to the tables you and Stiles rested uncomfortably in, raising his brow in heavy suspicion. 

Stiles’ deep, dark chocolate-colored eyes widened in worry. “No, sir.”

“I’m keeping my eye on you, Stilinski. You too, Y/L/N.” 

As soon as Harris was out of sight, perched back at the desk and typing furiously, another wad of paper tapped your occiput. 

hey, y/n, there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you for a while.

The note, while its contents wouldn’t usually spark too much concern, was subtly unlike the few ones you had previously received. The lines of each letter were neater, more methodical. The small blots of ink resting at the conclusion of every stroke were larger, deeper, as if the nib of his pen had rested in the liquidly black pool for a second too long.

Your face scrunched with confusion, and upon noticing your shift in emotion, Allison nimbly tapped your wrist and mouthed, ‘Is everything okay?’

You nodded with wrinkled brows while shakily scratching a reply.

what is it?

Your knee bounced up and down reflexively, clicking from your rapidly retracting pen echoed through the idle shelves and arrays of desktops. It felt like years, centuries even, before a reply finally tumbled at your feet.

do you like me?

(circle one)

yes? or yes? 

Your jaw nearly fell to the carpeted floor in shock as if gravity had been multiplied; your speedily thrumming heart was doing flip after flip in the cavity of your chest. Without a second thought, you quickly circled both of the ‘yes’es as if there were no friction under the ink-dispersing tip of your pen. Before cupping the piece of paper, you scribbled out an additional little note.

wanna go out this saturday?

Stiles’ anxious gaze bore into your hunched-over figure as you giddily wrote your reply. What if you rejected him (even though the page lacked a ‘no’ option, meaning that you would have to add one, which was even worse)? Was it possible for him to ask to go to the bathroom and just never return? Are there any secret werewolf abilities that Scott could use to make him disintegrate on the spot? 

But his overthinking was soon alleviated when he received your response, this time neatly folded into a paper heart instead of a crunchy ball. Each crease was crisp and thoughtful; he didn’t have to unfold your expert origami to know which option you circled (or lack thereof).

He grinned goofily like an idiot as his chocolate eyes glazed your response a million times over, taking in every letter, every stroke, the dot in your ‘i’ or the question mark ending your simple but heart-rate-escalating proposal.

Crunch.

stiles stilinski/teen wolf taglist:

it’s a date then. i’ll pick you up at 6? passenger seat’s already reserved for you ;)

@loulouloueh @when-you-wish-upon-a-starrynight @ronbrokemyheart @dylobilysmomg

if your name is crossed out, that means I couldn't take you! check your visibility settings so I can @ you next time!

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[kpoppwriter]

Soulmate!ATEEZ Headcanons - Meeting their Soulmate

 ❧ Anon asked: Heyy! I was wondering if you would like to write an Ateez soulmate!au headcanon? like what type of soulmate bond would they have (tatoos, colourblind untill they meet their soulmate, feeling pain when soulmate feels pain...) and how they will meet their soulmate very briefly. I hope is okay for you and i explained it well. Love the blog💞

❧ Anon asked: Hii can i request a fluff non idol soulmate au scenario of yunho? This is specific but can u include it where both of u are able to sense and feel each other's emotions and feelings? I love ur writing. Thank you 🥺🥺💕💕🥰🥰

❧ A/N: so I looked up a bunch of different soulmate aus so no one would have the same one and oml there are a lot of soulmate aus. Some of these are non idol!au as well this took me so fucking long to write omg each one is like the size of a drabble

~※ Main Masterlist ※~

Hongjoong - You can hear whatever song your soulmate is listening to

That familiar sound of singing echoed in your head. You were practically hypnotized by it. You were so entranced that you didn’t realize you had been zoning out while standing in front of the recording studio. You shook your head and headed into the studio. The group you were going to work with for the day stood up and greeted you. You noticed they were practicing for the recording. One of the boys got up and went into the booth to record. You put on your headphones, as did he. You started recording then started the track. Your mouth went slightly agape when you heard that familiar voice but this time in the headphones. You pulled yourself out of your thoughts when you heard the man asking for your opinion on how the recording sounded.

“I think...here, try it like this.”

You sang the last part, the part he had just recorded, changing a few of the notes to fit the track better. Now the man in the booth was the one with his mouth open. He blinked a couple times before looking back at the lyrics in front of him. He’d definitely have to say something when the two of you had a moment. 

Seonghwa -  The outline of your shadow is your soulmate

You stood with your back against the sun, your shadow hitting the pavement in front of you. You stared at the shadow trying to engrave the outline into your memory. You were so curious about the shadow that you saw whenever the sun was bright- What were they like? Did you know them already? What did they look like? Who were they? 

While you were lost in thought, your friend Seonghwa walked up beside you. He called out your name bringing you back to reality. You looked over at him, sending him a smile. You looked down at his shadow. The shape felt familiar to you. Too familiar... 

Yunho - Feel each other's emotions

You sighed as you leaned back in your desk chair. You were far too stressed out from your homework. You really just wanted to stop worrying about your homework but you had to get it done for class the next day. You ran a hand through your hair, deciding maybe you should take a bit of a break. You made your way to the kitchen to grab a snack and some water. When you returned to your desk, you heard your phone ringing. 

“Hey Yunho,” you said answering the phone

“Hey Y/N. You feeling okay?”

“I’m just a little stressed out right now. How’d you know?”

“I guess I just have a sixth sense,” he chuckled, “You wanna hear what Mingi did today?”

You let him tell you the funny story of his adventures with Mingi, making you feel a lot better. He was always right there the moment you started feeling bad, even if you didn’t tell him. Maybe he did have a sixth sense...

Yeosang - A red string tied around your pinky is connected to your soulmate’s pinky

You’ve never seen your red string. You knew it was there, everyone had one, but you were never close enough to your soulmate to actually see it. That is, you didn’t see it until you moved to Seoul. 

You were out at a local coffee shop just relaxing on your day off. You sipped on your drink, a book in your other hand. You looked up briefly when a small group of boys dressed in athletic wear wandered into the coffee shop. They were chatting among themselves as they got in line to order their drinks. You didn’t think much of them until you went to take another sip of your coffee. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a bright red string tied in a bow around your pinky. You followed the string with your eyes until you were met with one of the boys. He noticed you staring between him and your pinky, his eyes glancing down at his own pinky. He quickly muttered something to his friends before coming over to you.

“Hi, I’m Yeosang.” 

San - Timer for when they’ll first meet

“You have to stop obsessing over your timer,” Wooyoung peaked over at San’s wrist

“It’s almost hit 0 though! I’m going to meet them any minute!” 

San and Wooyoung continued to walk through the halls of the KQ building towards the practice rooms. They didn’t notice you also walking down the hall. You were looking down at your phone when you bumped into something- or rather, someone. You apologized profusely, a dark pink blush appearing on your cheeks. The blush was mostly from the embarrassment of running into someone but also because the person you ran into was rather attractive. You quickly scurried away down the hall. San and Wooyoung just looked at each other in confusion and surprise. Wooyoung’s eyes glanced down at San’s wrist. 

“Hey, look!” 

He pointed at the counter on San’s wrist. There was a large zero where the numbers counting down used to be. San looked up at Wooyoung then back down the hall where you went. 

“Wait, were they...?”

Mingi - Write something on your own skin, appears on the other’s skin as well

You were too young to know. The two of you just thought you both had magic powers or something. No one told you about how soulmates could draw and write on each other. You wish someone had. 

You rushed into your kindergarten class and sat down at your table. You pulled out a piece of paper and your crayons. You started drawing, your eyes constantly glancing up at the door to the classroom. 

“Y/N!” 

In came your best friend Mingi, a large smile on his face. He sat down beside you and looked over at your paper.

“That’s a pretty rainbow,” he smiled

“Thank you,” you giggled, “You wanna draw too?”

You dug around for another piece of paper but you didn’t notice Mingi had already pulled out a pen and began drawing on his arms. You giggled when you started seeing the flowers and stars appearing on your own arms. You took out your own pen and doodled on the free skin on your arms. The two of you happily laughed and doodled together completely oblivious that you were sitting beside your soulmate.  

Wooyoung - Get the same injuries as your soulmate does

“My soulmate needs to chill out. This is the third bruise this week,” you groaned while putting some ice on your leg

You left the nurse’s office and headed towards the entrance of your school. Just as you were about to leave, your friend sent you a text. You mentally slapped yourself. You had promised your friend that you’d come with them to the school’s dance club meeting. You really wanted to reschedule due to your bruised leg but knew they’d scold the hell out of you for rescheduling on them for the third time. You sent a text saying you’d be there in a second before limping down the hall towards the music room. 

You arrived at the music room a few minutes later, your friend standing outside the door looking impatient. 

“There you are!” they looked down at your leg, “Did you get hurt?”

“I didn’t,” you huffed, “My soulmate did.”

“Ah, well at least Wooyoung won’t be alone then.”

“What?”

“He hurt himself and can’t really participate today so the two of you can hang out.”

The two of you walked into the room, the other members of the club greeting you. Your friend introduced you to Wooyoung before going off with the other club members. You tried to strike up a conversation with him, asking him about his injury.

“I bruised my leg trying out a new dance move,” he said pulling up his pant leg to show you the purple bruise that looked similar to yours, “What about you?”

You said nothing, only showing him your own bruise. He looked between your leg and his, his eyes going wide in surprise. His eyes wordlessly said what you were both thinking.

Jongho - Each other’s initials on their wrist

“Just come with us, Y/N!” Wooyoung whined, “It’ll be a lot of fun!”

“Will you shut up if I say yes?” you looked over at the boy

You rolled your eyes playfully when Wooyoung promised to leave you alone if you came out with the members of Ateez to karaoke. You hadn’t met all the boys yet so you were a bit apprehensive at first but after Wooyoung’s relentless pestering, you finally broke down and agreed. 

You and Wooyoung walked into the karaoke room, the loud sounds of singing and yelling coming from the room. Everyone, well almost everyone, were on their feet singing along with the song being played through the speakers. Wooyoung quickly joined in on the fun but you decided to sit with one of the boys- one you didn’t know. You introduced yourself, leaning in close to hear him tell you his name- Jongho. You talked for a bit before the boys were pulling Jongho up and shoving a microphone in his hands.You peeked at the initials on Jongho’s wrist. Your eyes went wide when you saw your initials on his skin. Was it just a coincidence or...

[eyeofthedrgn]

A Heavy Battle Symphony - Chapter 4

New chapter! This chapter is slightly fluffy, still angsty, but much less than previous chapters.

Catch up here: Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

TW: language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut

Word count: 1685

Chapter 4 - Forgotten

A little piece of paper with a picture drawn

Floats on down the street 'til the wind is gone

And the memory now is like the picture was then

When the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again

It was Monday, and he was healed enough that Maeve let him go to school. After a normal morning routine, Lorcan made sure he wore a hoodie that would do a decent job covering his neck. Hood up, hands in his hoodie pocket, head down, he headed to school.

He missed a lot of schoolwork. It was going to be a late night. Luckily, most of the teachers gave him until the end of the week to turn it in.

When P.E. came around, he went straight to the gym rather than the locker room. He found his teacher and handed him his doctor's note. Mr. Brullo sent Lorcan to the library to study. Lorcan was happy about that. He was able to catch up on some of his homework.

Lorcan's handwriting, luckily, wasn't hindered by his cast. Perrington at least broke his right arm, his non-dominant arm. That he was thankful for, if he could be thankful for anything that happened to him.

He was getting a headache from his pre-calc homework. Lorcan rubbed his face with his hand and sighed.

"Lorcan?"

Lorcan grunted and slowly turned to see Elide, who looked relieved to see him. That was interesting. "Oh, uh, hi."

"Aren't you supposed to be in gym?" Lorcan lifted his casted arm. Elide's eyes widened and her lips parted. "Oh." She swallowed. Fuck, here comes the pity. "How-" she closed her mouth. "How'd that happen? We thought you were sick." Why were they concerned?

He told the same story Maeve told the doctor. Something about getting in a fight and falling down stairs, and "you should see the other guy". She didn't seem to believe him, neither did the doctor.

"Can I sit with you?" Lorcan shrugged. She sat down and then proceeded to talk to him about what he missed in creative writing. He didn't realize her voice was so soothing.

"Has anyone signed your cast yet?" She was eyeing the black cast. "I have a silver Sharpie!" She pulled it out of her bag and held it up with a smile.

Lorcan huffed a small laugh. Not being able to say no to that smile, knowing he was going to get in trouble, well, what could really do to him anyway? So, Lorcan carefully pushed up his hoodie sleeve. She smiled brightly at him. He propped his head up on his hand, eyes closed and listened to her hum as she put ink to the black cast.

++++

It was hard to keep from asking Lorcan questions. Elide saw the handprint bruise on his neck, the exhaustion lining his body, and of course, the full arm cast. She thought about how his injuries were formed. Obviously, someone put their hands on him, but who?

She didn't know who he lived with besides his aunt. It was doubtful that a woman had done this sort of damage, but one never knows for sure.

As she put pen to plaster, she kept looking up at his face between strokes of ink. He had drifted off to sleep. His face was slack, a slight snore every time he breathed out. Lorcan looked so innocent like that and dare she say, gorgeous.

Having finished her artwork, she just watched him until the bell rang. She gently brushed a lock of hair off his forehead, delicately tucking it behind his ear. He didn't stir.

Elide wished there was something she could do to get him away from his more than shitty situation. Calling the police was probably out of the question, but that was really the only thing she could think of.

The bell rang.

---

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he felt his textbook being pulled from under his elbow. "Oh, shit. Sorry," Lorcan furrowed his brow as he started cleaning up his stuff.

"You looked tired, I didn't want to wake you, but it is lunch time." Elide smiled, "and you have to look at your cast!" She seemed so excited about it.

Expecting some nonsense, he was pleasantly surprised to find a nice line drawing from his elbow to his wrist. It was a row of detailed trees with her name under it. Lorcan looked at it with awe. He looked back at Elide, "You did that?" Obviously, she did that. Don't be stupid, Lorcan, he thought to himself.

She giggled. He thought her laugh was adorable. "Obviously." Lorcan's cheeks flushed while he finished packing up before they walked together to lunch in a comfortable silence.

---

He followed Elide through the lunch line, the lunch lady gave him an extra serving. He was probably looking a little gaunt these days having barely eaten for the past week. Lorcan started towards the empty table in the corner.

Apparently, Elide wasn't having any of that as she pulled him to the group table before he could go be alone. Everyone seemed excited to see him. His name was shouted amongst several other greetings. Lorcan felt a tug in his chest as he looked around at the friendly faces. Why were they always trying to be nice to him? And then his eyes fell on the silver haired boy, he instantly forgot what he was thinking. He stared at the green eyed beauty a fraction longer than he should have as he sat down.

Elide introduced everyone. Aelin, Lysandra, Manon, Dorian, Chaol, Fenrys, Connall, Rowan - the silver haired boy - and then Vaughn, who was the last one to join the table.

He was sitting between Elide and Fenrys. Lorcan kept his head down while he ate, feeling very out of place. Everyone was chatting around him, over him, leaning around him. It was a lot. He wished he was alone at the table in the corner.

Rowan spoke up, "Can I sign your cast?" Lorcan jerked his head up. The sleeve of Lorcan's hoodie was still pushed up, he had forgotten to pull it back down which was unusual, but under the current circumstances, it made sense.

Lorcan's heart sped and he suddenly felt warmth spread up his neck. It drove him crazy how much his body reacted of its own accord around Rowan. He wished it would stop.

There was no reason to deny him when the punishment was coming now anyway since Elide's Sharpie touched the cast in the library, so he just shrugged and moved his arm towards the center of the table, towards Rowan.

"Elide, can I borrow your Sharpie?" She handed it over with a nod and went back to animatedly talking to the other girls about something.

Lorcan was careful not to press into the edge of the table, as he adjusted his arm. "I don't think mine will be as pretty as Elide's. Sorry in advance." Lorcan just shrugged a shoulder. He watched Rowan do his little doodle.

Then Rowan grabbed Lorcan's hand to carefully twist his arm to get to a different part of the cast easier causing electricity to shoot through his skin. His breath hitched. The soft fingers lingering on his skin, he never wanted the other boy's hand to move. Lorcan's eyes darted to Rowan's face to see if he noticed anything weird. All he saw was intense concentration, the way his tongue stuck out just a tad and his brows stitched together. Suddenly he was too warm, chest tight, heart pounding. Hellas below.

"There!" Rowan smiled at his silly nonsensical line doodle signed with his name. "All done." That smile did weird things to his stomach and the absence of those warm fingers made all the heat he had just been feeling disappear. A shiver ran down his spine.

Rowan capped the Sharpie and went to hand it back to Elide when Fenrys grabbed it.

"Can I?"

"Yeah." He was screwed anyway.

By the end of lunch, his cast was covered in names and doodles by his... Friends? They couldn't be friends, could they?

As he walked to his next class, he started panicking. His chest tightening for a whole other reason than being in close proximity to a certain boy. A tightness that was only reminiscent of growing anxiety. He shouldn't have let anyone sign it. What was he thinking?

Fuck.

++++

"Lorcan," Rowan breathed as he saw the dark haired boy basically being dragged by Elide to their table. Everyone perked up at that and welcomed him back.

Rowan saw his pained expression. Then, he saw the cast and the light purples, greens, and yellows on his neck that Lorcan was obviously trying to hide with the hood of his hoodie. It looked like a handprint. A fucking handprint. His gut roiled at the thought.

But then Lorcan looked at him, and oh boy, those eyes were going to be the end of him. They were an amazing onyx, almost like pools of night. His cheeks heated and he hoped no one noticed.

He finally got the courage to ask to sign his cast. And when Lorcan leaned over to get his arm closer to Rowan, he noted the stiffness and slight discomfort that flitted over his face. There was so much damage to Lorcan's body that they couldn't see. It made him unbearably sad thinking about it.

For the rest of lunch, while everyone signed Lorcan's cast, Rowan just sat there silently, observing the beautiful dark haired boy. He'd catch his eye every now and then give him a small smile, which was never returned. His eyes just quickly flitted away. Lorcan, he learned was very hard to read.

Rowan wished they could hang out, just the two of them. He wanted to get to know him and help him. And know what those lips felt like, tasted like. How it would feel to thread his fingers through his long dark hair that was usually in a messy bun. Or just to hold his hand. Fuck, he had it bad.

____

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be tagged.

@thenerdandfandoms @starlightorstarfire

[everandevermcre]

⌠ dominic fike. 26, pansexual, nonbinary, he/they. ⌡ wait a minute, is gerald banks name still in town? i thought i saw a flash of (dangerous pure - boy gaze, lazy arrogance, perked interest)! last i heard they were working as odd jobs nearby. when it’s the (aquarius)’s birthday on 02/14 i forget that they’re moody and celebrate that they’re corny. i hear vampire by dominic fike every time i think of them. @liminalintro​

scheming father, taken advantage of mother who leaves his father and their family when banks is around eleven

this is where his attachment problems begin and end

gerald grew up comfortable. his dad did what he had to do to keep him and his little brother in a nice, white suburb so that he could still attend good schools. his dad was of the mind that if he sent gerald to the right places, it would make up for his parenting and still give him a chance at succeeding in the world.  

his dad was too attached to the money and the status. ultimately, it kills him. but not before telling banks he had a lot coming to him.

gerald believes that all of this is due to his dad’s affiliation with drugs, but a trail soon shows him that his dad had ties to national security of ufo and other paranormal information.

banks is low key trying to investigate what happened to his dad.

to honor his family name, gerald begins going by the name of his father. whether he was a man of questionable morals or not, he provided for gerald and his brother, and never left. so ‘   banks junior   ’ it was. and it sounded pretty good. eventually he dropped it to just ‘   banks  ’ himself. he always hated the name gerald anyway.

he was en route to graduating on top of his class at faircrest prep until his dad, the original ‘ banks ’ got killed in a car accident. banks thinks it was a target more than an accident, but can’t prove it.

when he drops out, banks disappears on his pals without so much as a note because he’s bad with goodbyes. he still feels guilty about it

music is his escape. it gets him out of his head. his life was often kept secret from his peers, not even allowing his group of friends to know what life was really like for him. music is where he turned to cope

the details…

passionate™

introverted, mood swings, RDF (resting disappointment face)

holds grudges like nothing else

likes to act tough

he doesn’t get close to people often but when he does he’d die for them

he uses his anger management issues to the benefit of his friends, always defending and sticking up for them

indecisive but not picky

says he only wears vintage, but it’s only because 90% of his closet is his dad’s old wardrobe

he’s sexually fluid, though he doesn’t feel the need to flaunt it or let everyone know

doesn’t know how to show affection other than to a few select people

always dressing in layers and always yawning

hand-poked tattoos and ripped jeans

tattoos look like dark doodles on their arms

mystery scars that they never talk about

living on gas station slushies

fish > literally every other animal

they know exact dates in history but not of like important things

looks tired all the time (because they are)

could disconnect from society at any moment

they either eat everything or forget to eat

early bird

no pillow necessary™

bad jokes that are somehow comforting™

grass stains on his knees

will smell every single candle in a store if you walk by the candle section

he smiles at you under lamplight and plays the car radio so loud you can’t hear yourselves sing

too many playlists. has twenty different ones and is always making more

have you ever see them in the daylight? probably not

neutral face makes them look like a murderer

comes off as a cocky jerk at first impression but is actually nice

laughs at corny jokes

prefers small towns to big cities

ripped jeans and old vans

bruised up knuckles

wears black in the summer

cat naps that lead to sleepless nights

washed out black box dye aesthetic

fast food at three am and wal-mart after dark

will fight you

[omigiry]

“𝗡𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝘆, 𝗔𝘄𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗹𝘆”

synopsis: reader and Tsukishima likes each other but is too nervous and awkward to even talk to each other.

POV: Third Person (she/her)

notes: 

mutual pinning

Yachi and Yamaguchi enjoys teasing Tsukishima

Pure fluff.

ry’s notes: I feel like Tsukishima is shy towards the person he likes, but that doesn’t stop him from being snarky towards his friends. I hope you enjooyy ~~ thank you for reading!  ♥ ♥ ♥

Students hurry off to take their seats as the professor enters the room. While the professor prepares his materials, (y/n) glanced towards the other side of the room where Tsukishima is sitting. He was scrolling through his phone. She would always steal glances at him during the subjects they shared together. At first she really doesn’t care about other people from her class aside from her friends who take it with her. Then she started noticing him as time passed by. He would always sit at the same spot and before students started filling the classroom, he was already there. She thought that he doesn’t have any friends for this class, but it seems like he was just early.

The more she notices him, the more she starts catching feelings.

Sometimes she would find herself looking for him in the hallways of the campus too. Hoping that she would catch a glance at him during the days when they don’t share a subject together. There are moments that they would meet eyes but she would quickly avert her gaze, pretending that she’s looking elsewhere. She wonders if he noticed that she was looking at him for a while now.

She’s usually fine when someone approaches her, but when he does, it’s like her brain short circuited.

There was one time that he was asking if he could borrow some notes from the lecture to take a picture of it, she looked normal on the outside but she was a mess inside her head. When they get paired up for an activity she would always ramble her ideas about it and couldn’t stop talking about the said activity, just to avoid the awkward silence she was feeling, to the point Tsukishima would stop her. She would internally facepalm herself for being such a talker.

They never exchanged other conversations aside from school related works.

Tsukishima would always give her side glances. Sometimes he forgets about the time and he would miss a slide their professor was discussing. He had observed how she easily gets distracted and starts doodling on the side of her notebook or would start playing with her pen. When the lecture would really get boring, he would see her scrolling through her phone discreetly. It amuses him to see those habits she had during lectures.

After class ends, he approaches her and asks for notes on the topic he missed because he ends up looking at her. It was the only way he could think of to talk to her, even if it’s only a minute. He would purposely scan through the notes and take pictures in a slow manner just to stay with her for a little longer.

He didn’t know when it started, but he was growing fond of her. He would hide his blush whenever she catches his eyes. He wasn’t one to tell someone about a girl that he likes, but his friends catch on quickly. Especially when his eyes wander in the hallways to look for a certain someone.

“Who are you looking for?” Yamaguchi asked and was also scanning the crowd to see if there’s someone they know among them. When he looked at Tsukishima, he wasn’t even paying attention to the question he asked. “Tsukki?” He tried again, and this time Tsukishima’s head whipped in his direction.

“Did you say something?”

“I said, who are you looking for?”

Tsukishima cleared his throat. “It’s nothing.”

Yamaguchi wasn’t satisfied with his response, he knew that there’s something was up with Tsukishima and he wanted to find out about it. He let it slide this time, but he was going to tell this to Yachi.

When Tsukishima was in class, Yachi and Yamaguchi were at the cafeteria.

“There’s something odd with Tsukki.” Yamaguchi started. “He keeps searching for someone when we’re in the hallways.”

Yachi was quick to catch on, and she speculated that their friend likes someone. Knowing Tsukki, he usually just looks at where he is going and not for someone. “Maybe, he likes someone?” She added a little bit of uncertainty since there was still no supporting evidence for her claim.

“Maybe.” Yamaguchi gave some thought to it, Tsukishima has always been so secretive with his emotions. Rarely showing any of it, he would always keep his cool and would stay composed most of the time. “Wanna spy on him?” He suggested.

“How? Some of our schedules overlap with each other.”

“Dang it.” Yamaguchi slightly frowned at his failed plan. “Then, let’s just ask him until he tells us something.”

“That’s better.” Yachi agreed and suggested a place to meet and they have agreed to meet at the coming weekend.

-

“What’s the occasion this time?” Tsukishima asked, eyeing suspiciously and the two who dragged him out during the weekend.

“What? We couldn’t hang out during the weekends, like normal college students? Besides it’s the holiday, so we don’t have any classes.” Yamaguchi said.

“Normal college students would rather stay at home and sleep.” They ignored his comment, and they proceeded to enter the cafe.

After they ordered and found a place to sit, Yamaguchi immediately said, “So, who is it?”

“Who is what?” Tsukishima asked.

“Don’t give us that reply, Tsukki. Who’s the girl?”

“There is no girl.” He firmly claimed and as he said that as if everything was against him when a certain someone entered the cafe as well. He rested his chin on his palm to try and hide his expression.

“Oohh?” Yachi said in a teasing tone. “Are we suddenly flustered? Tadashi, why are we suddenly flustered?” They didn’t see (y/n) enter the cafe, and Tsuki couldn’t be more thankful. He wished that they wouldn’t sit near them, or approach them, or even notice them.

Of course not everything will go to what he wanted.

“Yachi?” (y/n)’s friend said, they were by the counter waiting for their drinks, and where they were sitting was near the counter.

Yachi turned around and greeted (y/n)’s friend. They were in the same department and the same year, they shared a lot of class together and became friends.

“By the way, this is (name).” Tsukishima avoided her gaze and just pretended that he was typing on his phone and hopefully no one of them notices that his phone was turned off.

“Tsukishima?” (y/n) said when she finally noticed him. She didn’t notice him at first since he was quiet and was bowing his head. When she realized who it was, there were certainly knots on her stomach.

He lifted his head and said a hello to her, he wasn’t prepared for this.

Yamaguchi mouthed an ‘ooohh’ and as if a light bulb had lit on the top of his head, he realized what was the reason behind Tsukishima’s flustered expression. He nudged Yachi and sent a message with his eyes expecting that she would catch on quickly.

“You could sit with us, if you don’t have anything else to do.” Yachi invited them, they were sitting at a table good for six after all.

Tsukishima glared at the two and that was the biggest hint for them.

“So, (y/n), how’d you know our friend Tsukki here?” Yamaguchi started. An amused smile forming on his lips.

“We share a class together, he would borrow notes from me at the end of classes.”

This was new information for Yachi and Yamaguchi. The Tsukishima they know, never borrowed any notes from someone and would always be the one who had complete notes even though it wasn’t organized.

“Really?” Yachi feigned innocence and sarcasm lacing on her voice as she turned towards Tsukishima.

“What? The professor’s voice was basically a lullaby and I would distract myself to stay awake.” He gave an excuse. Distracted by the girl sitting cross from me right now.

“What are your plans for today by the way?” Yachi asked. She changed the subject now that she has enough proof as of the moment.

“We’re gonna catch a movie. There’s still about 20 more minutes before it begins.”

Yachi and Yamaguchi were the one who kept the conversation going. Asking questions towards (y/n) from time to time, and Tsukishima would just listen. Noting the important things about (y/n) that they have talked about. Like what her major was, her schedule (because Yachi wanted to spend more time with her and they both have mutual friends), the place she usually hangs during vacant or free periods. Sometimes Tsukishima would join the conversation when he was being mentioned.

(y/n) was thankful towards Yachi to ease up some of her nervousness she was feeling, she was hoping that she would get the chance to talk to Tsukishima, but he would only nod or agree at some things. He would only say a few words in their conversations. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, thinking that maybe Tsukishima wasn’t really interested at all.

When (y/n) and her friend said goodbye and went to the cinema, Yachi and Yamaguchi turned towards Tsukishima with a grin so wide it could reach their ears.

“Soooo… (y/n) huh.”

“Shut up, Tadashi.”

“Oh no no, Tsukki. This is certainly entertaining to see.”

Knowing that they wouldn’t give this up any time soon, Tsukishima sighed in defeat and admitted that he likes her.

“Could you repeat that again?”

“I like her, okay?”

After being truthful about his feelings to his friends, they would occasionally invite (y/n) to hang out along with (y/n)’s friend. Tsukishima was internally dying, but it did help him get closer to her.

Then he noticed another side of her. He noticed that she was more energetic if he wasn’t around, when he is she’s timid. Is she uncomfortable around me? When that thought came to mind, he felt like all hope was lost. If she is, then there’s absolutely no chance for a relationship to happen.

They didn’t hang-out without their newly formed friend group. As they got to be with each other more, his feelings for her had grown deeper and she has settled in his heart.

Yamaguchi and Yachi notice that Tsukishima and (y/n) mutually like each other. Yachi notices how (y/n) would always avoid eye contact with Tsukishima and the way a light blush forms on her cheek. Everytime that they would hang out, (y/n) was always timid and nervous around Tsukishima.

Yachi decides to ask her. If her speculations are true once again, Yamaguchi and Yachi will play cupid for their friends. Because they couldn’t do it without a little push.

“So, do you like Tsukishima?” Yachi asks when they were having an all girls hang-out. (y/n) choked on her milk tea at the sudden question, she was having a coughing fit for being flustered.

“You do!” Yachi clasped her hands together at the reaction she received.

“I don’t” (y/n) defended.

“You can’t fool me. The blush on your face says so otherwise!” (y/n)’s face got even more heated. She’s now aware that she couldn’t make up an excuse.

“You’re not saying no.” Yachi teased more. (y/n)’s friend was also teasing her and asking what she liked about Tsukishima and when did it start.

“A few months ago.” (y/n) mumbled under her breath as she avoided making eye contact.

“Oh, honey. You got it bad, just talking about him makes you shy and nervous that you can’t even look us in the eye.” (y/n)’s friend said.

Now that Yachi has confirmed it, she moves to her next plan. She messaged Yamaguchi that they would plan to watch a movie together and would ditch Tsukishima and (y/n) so they could have their moment. “Our shy little babies need to take a step further. Or else I would be the one to tell them to their face that they like each other.” Was Yachi’s last message to Yamaguchi.

-

“Why aren’t they here yet?” (y/n) asked Tsukishima, they have been waiting for about 10 minutes in front of the cinema. Tsukishima was calling Yamaguchi but he wasn’t answering and (y/n) messaged their group chat. After a minute, they all replied that they suddenly couldn’t make it.

“Uhh, Tsukishima?” (y/n) called out and tapped him so he could turn in her direction.

Tsukishima turned to her with his phone still in his ear as he still tries to call Yamaguchi. (y/n) showed their replies in the group chat and Tsukishima’s eyebrows raised then furrowed. “Give me a minute.” He said to her.

Tsukishima: If you don’t pick up your phone, you’re going to regret it.

Yamaguchi: Sorry, Tsukki. Enjoy your date! Don’t mess up!

“If you don’t want to, we could just go home.” (y/n) suggested. Though this was unplanned, Tsukishima still had the opportunity to be with her alone like how he wanted to for so long.

“We’re already here. I don’t mind, it would be a waste if we went home.”

In the end they decided to watch the movie. The air around them was really awkward and no one was saying anything. Tsukishima offered to buy them some drinks. (y/n) waited for him as she had an internal battle with herself. You got to say something, he might think you don’t want to be with him.

Tsukishima handed her drink, she took a sip as her throat felt dry due to their close proximity. You’re a college student now, why are you suddenly acting up like a high schooler? She scolded herself. “Thanks, by the way.” She said.

“It’s no problem.” There was still a few minutes left before they could enter the cinema, but they couldn’t think of any topic to talk about. “So.” Tsukishima tried to break the silence. (y/n) fiddles with her straw and she turns in his direction but still couldn’t look at him. Tsukishima felt uneasy about how she acts around him. “Are you uncomfortable being with me?” He asked her directly, he didn’t mean to but he wanted to know.

At his question her eyes widened in surprise and she trips over her words. “No, it’s not like that, I just. I’m just not used to us being alone. But I’m not uncomfortable being with you.”

“That’s good then.” Tsukishima quietly said, which she didn’t hear. “I’m also not used to things like this, but I enjoy being with you.” He said, trying to ease up the awkwardness surrounding them.

They both gradually got accustomed to each other and were exchanging a few conversations. After watching the movie, (name) couldn’t help but voice her thought process about the movie, the parts she liked and the parts she didn’t. Tsukishima was looking at her amusedly as she rambled on.

“Sorry, I rambled on.”

“It’s okay, your point of view is really interesting.”

Tsukishima asked if she wanted to grab something to eat, he wanted her to enjoy the day. It’s not yet an official date, but now he was certain that he wanted more of this. They ate at a fast food joint and they were now talking comfortably with each other.

“Thank you for taking me home.”

“You’re welcome. I really enjoyed today.”

“Me too.”

“If you would like to, we can do this again. Just the two of us.” With his reply, (y/n) was a blushing mess again.

“Like a date?” She fidgets with her fingers and her heart is hammering in her chest as she waits for his response.

“Yes, a date.”

(y/n) smiled shyly and said, “I would love to.” Tsukishima smiled in return.

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

⚠️ CW !! THIS SONA ENTRY REVOLVES A LOT AROUND A FICTIONAL MILITARY + HAS A LOT OF GUN MENTIONS !! PLS LOOK AWAY OR SKIP OVER THIS POST IF YOU LIKE NEITHER OF THESE THINGS OR THEY SQUICK YOU OUT ! ⚠️

Remember when I said I had a Keroro Gunso/Sgt Frog self insert who was Giroro’s boyfriend ???

yea well here he is in all of his glory!

(PRONOUNS ARE HE/HIM, THEY/THEM, IT/ITS, 🔫/🔫S AND BULLET/BULLETS)

ANYWAYS MEET CORPORAL CAPAPA OF THE PRINTER INK PLATOON (which is an ACTUAL MILITARY PLATOON, that consists of at least 44 “keronians”, at least 6 of whom are not actual Keronians but other alien species’ like robot axolotians, salamandians (keronian mimic species) or other wacked up artificial keronians! i’ll let you do the math on that 💛) !!! He’s a weapons/explosives specialist just like Giroro (which honestly??? i didnt intend for them to be the exact rank and specialty, that just HAPPENED /gen /pos) and he’s rivals with Private 2nd Class Tamama ! ( dont ask me how that happened, Capapa just thought he was rude and an ingrateful little bastard 💛)

PERSONALITY

Capapa is easily excitable and very trigger happy, and he’s always willing to motivate his team to invade Pekopon ! He’s always wanting to lend a helping hand and do what’s right for both his platoon and Keroro’s >:] He’s very friend-oriented and likes making new friends, often giving new platoon members old guns he no longer uses as gifts !

BACKGROUND

Capapa comes from the species of Salamandians, which are the evolutionary predecessors to Axolotians and an imitation species to Keronians! More often than not, Salamandians imitate Keronian and Axolotian forms for the purpose of infiltration and hunting, in the case of Keronians. Capapa is a special case, as he is one of the few who actively do not hunt Keronians, and instead eats other meats such as pekoponian frogs, beef, etc.

Capapa grew up on Keron, participating in their military school system alongside perfecting their disguise, and grew a love for guns and explosives over time, eventually being granted the role of Corporal, directly under 1st Class Sgt. Lunana (an oc made by my pal @papermarioorigamikin !! ) as her second-in-command! Capapa, along with the rest of the Printer Ink Platoon, was sent to Pekopon to help Keroro’s platoon with the in-progress invasion.

BONUS INFO

- Bullet’s favourite foods are salmon and mac n cheese with ground beef, with pizza being a close second ! He also tends to enjoy energy drinks like Monster and also really likes lemonade.

- 🔫’s perception of Keroro is...mixed to say the least. On one hand, he sees that Keroro has the GREAT potential to be a wonderful sergeant, capable of anything he puts his mind to, but his incompetence and lack of drive to do anything that would be considered of great skill (aside from building his massive gunpla/gundum collection) frustrates them, as well as his general narcissism. It tends to talk to mainly Giroro and Dororo about such feelings, since Dororo, Giroro and Keroro were close, which are indeed resonated and returned amongst all three of them.

- As i mentioned before, Tamama and Capapa do not have a good friendship. At all. Capapa sees Tamama as a bit of a nuisance and even a spoiled brat at times, finding his attitude when he doesn’t get his way very...unprofessional, to say the least, for a Private 2nd Class, and Tamama often gets upset when Capapa either brushes him off or tells him he doesnt get special treatment for being the youngest/“cutest” of the group.

- Capapa is fully capable of switching between having the standard two eyes or the singular cycloptic look of their true form while in their keronian disguise, often doing such when surprised/flustered. [pictured below!]

———————-

BONUS DOODLES:

to the left are some random misc. doodles of Capapa, including some Capagiro and Capapa with the singular eyeball !! I’m not gonna show much else but note that since I DO selfship with Giroro you all are going to have to be forced thru watching me flood the sgt frog giroro tag with Capagiro and THERE IS NOTHING YOU IDIOTS CAN DO TO STOP ME !!!!! [does a little evil gremlin laugh that makes u wanna hit me with ur car XD]

Anyways, now that i finished writing all of this, y’all know the rules!

(WRITERS NOTE: I’m gonna be a lil rude here and just say it to completely clarify: While I don’t have any grudges towards ppl who ship Giroro with anyone in Keroro’s or Garuru’s platoon itself [GiroDoro, GiroKuru, etc], if you ship GiroNatsu or GiroGaru or anything along that line that is REMOTELY fucking suspicious [KeroFuyu, MomoFuyu, etc], I’m going to immediately label you as someone who I’m going to hardblock on my account cuz we don’t do that here <3 most of the ships I listed are under pro-ship criteria and MomoFuyu makes me generally uncomfy.)

[cauliflowercounty]

Meet Me in the Middle Pt. I (Fred Weasley x fem!Reader)

House: Ilvermorny, your choice

Blood Status: You Choose

Warning: A swear :)

A/N: You’re from the US in this fic!

I/H = Ilvermorny house

-----

“Settle down, students!” Professor McGonagall calls out to the group of 7th years in front of her. She glares over at the twins and Lee who are busy sticking their noses up and imitating her. Once they notice her intense glare, they quiet down, trying to stifle their laughter, still giddy from the start of school energy and being reunited after a long summer apart. 

“This year,” McGonagall begins “we’re initiating a new program in partnership with Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the United States.”

A chorus of murmurs floods through the group.

“For those interested, we are starting a pen friends program. Because of the success of last year in fostering international relationships with the Triwizard tournament, we thought it would be beneficial for both the student body here at Hogwarts and Ilvermorny’s to participate in this new program,” McGonagall explains to the group. All of the seventh years start to whisper to each other excitedly. Many of them comment on how this hadn’t been a possibility before or how they wonder what the wizarding world is like across the pond.

“You’ll receive one pen friend and if you sign up, I expect you to represent Hogwarts well, and remember this is a commitment. Don’t send the person one letter and then never again or there will be consequences,” McGonagall warns everyone. Despite her severe words, people grin with excitement. Fred Weasley thinks about it to himself as all his classmates clamor with excitement. He’d like to have a pen friend from the U.S., but he’s busy wondering if he’ll have the money to send them letters. He and George hadn’t actually sold many of their products yet and he only had just enough money to send letters to his parents back home and the occasional Honeydukes sweet or Zonko’s product. “Postage to the US must cost a lot since owls can’t go that far,” Fred thinks to himself. Maybe giving up the occasional Hogsmeade indulgence would be worth it.

“Cedric would have loved this,” one Hufflepuff near Fred murmurs and everyone falls silent, knowing what the Hufflepuff just said is absolutely true. Everyone in this year definitely felt Cedric’s absence in their year, but in this moment, the air felt heavy with guilt. McGonagall nods in agreement and sets out a paper for sign ups, adding postage will be paid for by Hogwarts and Ilvermorny. Hogwarts students will also write the first letter. Fred smiles in relief. He won’t have to spend all his savings.

“Oi, Freddie,” George nudges him.  “Are you going to sign up?”

Fred nods and rushes up to the paper that his classmates are crowding around. He takes out one of his quills and scratches his signature onto the parchment with a flourish. Returning to his best friends, Lee looks surprised. 

“I didn’t take you for a pen friend sort of guy, mate,” lee comments.

“What can I say, I’m spontaneous,” Fred replies, sure of himself this was the right choice. Leaving the room with George and Lee, Fred heads to his dorm room to start writing his first letter.

When he arrives in his room, he gets out a piece of parchment and sets up a small workspace on his desk.  Just as he sits down, he stops and starts fiddling with his quill. After a few seconds of hesitation, Fred decided to suck it up and start writing.

Hello,

I’m Fred Weasley. I apologise if this letter is a little awkward. It’s my first time ever writing to someone I don’t know at all. I’m in 7th year and I’m a Gryffindor, which values courage and bravery, if you don’t know.  

I have a twin brother. His name is George. We’re like the school pranksters. We currently are developing a line of sweets that make you sick so you can get out of class and other products that people would want like little objects that go off to cause a diversion, We’re also thinking about fireworks, but our main specialty is sweets. It all shows promise.

Georgie and I have never been academics, we’re more pranksters at heart if I’m honest. We’re quite good at charms and enchantments, though. I’m rubbish at potions, though. I hate to be boring, but what’s your favorite subject? I can’t think of anything other than that to ask you, but maybe in a future letter, we can talk about more interesting topics other than school.

Hope to hear from you,

Fred Weasley

Satisfied with his work, Fred folds his letter up and seals it tightly with a wax seal. The next day, he turns it in to McGonagall, who informs him it will be sent within the week. Walking away from McGonagall, Fred starts wondering who his pen friend is.

~

As the following Tuesday rolls around, an unfamiliar owl swoops into the 7th year Gryffindor boys dorms. Attached to its leg is a neatly closed, pristine envelope with “Fred Weasley” written in unfamiliar handwriting.  It hoots loudly at Fred, who scrambles off his bed, knocking a few prototype sweets onto the floor he was just working on with George. 

“Oi! Watch it, Fred!” George protests, but Fed’s already at the window, trying to pry the letter off the owl’s leg. As Fred gets a better look at the letter, he finds the front has been stamped with a MACUSA red stamp reading “INTERNATIONAL” complete with an eagle beside it. Excited, Fred rips open the letter and sits down on his bed, ignoring George who’s trying to get his attention back on the products. Once he’s comfortable, Fred opens up the letter and starts to read.

Hello, Fred Weasley.

I’m y/n. There’s no reason to be sorry that your letter is a bit awkward. Letters like this are out of my comfort zone as well. If it makes you feel any better, your letter felt perfectly natural.

I’m a 6th year in I/H. It’s honestly the best house of all of them. Thunderbird is for adventurers, Pukwudgie is for healers, Wampus is for warriors, and Horned Serpent is for scholars. Fun Fact: Ilvermorny was actually founded by a descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a No-Maj!  

You and your brother must be quite the dynamic duo. Starting a business is no easy feat, but it sounds amazingly interesting. I can’t believe you two were the first to think of sweets that make you sick to get out of class, but I’m glad you two got to the idea first. Please keep me posted on how your other products are coming along! They all sound amazing!

I also like charms and enchantments. My Charms teacher is really awesome. I honestly can’t decide what my favorite subject is. All of them have their ups and downs.

What’s it like at Hogwarts? I hear it’s a castle, but what’s the inside like?

- y/n y/l/n

George looks over at his brother and notices how widely he’s grinning. George notices the “international” stamp on the envelope and realizes what it is and now he’s no longer mad at Fred for knocking the prototypes on the floor as Fred scrambles to grab some parchment to write back.

~

A two and a half months later, you and Fred have exchanged many letters; you’ve exchanges so many you’ve both forgotten what round you’re on. A week ago, Fred sent along some of his products after you told him about the two Wampus bullies in your year, James and Martin, who enjoy tormenting you about your looks, smarts, and everything else under the sun. The package included a box of sparklers and then some sickness-inducing sweets. Alongside the box of charmed sweets, he also sent a box of real chocolates and a note.

The red box with the “W” has the charmed sweets in it! DO NOT EAT UNLESS YOU WANT TO BREAK OUT IN BOILS! The other box has some of my mom’s English toffee for you to try.

Giggling a little from his warning note, you wrote back and thanked him profusely for the gifts and promptly used the sickness sweets on both Wampus lugs, who ran off to the infirmary with large puss-filled growths protruding from their face in embarrassment.  When your dorm mates asked who the real chocolates were from, you feel your heartbeat in your chest as a light blush flushes over your cheeks, thinking of Fred.

Getting out of Potions, you take a walk outside to study as an owl swoops down. You take the letter, recognizing Fred’s handwriting.  

Y/n,

I’m glad the sweets worked. The two of them absolutely deserved it and now we know the boils can last for over 48 hours. That’s valuable information for Georgie and me.

Listen, I don’t want to overstep, but I was wondering if I could know what you look like? We’ve been mailing each other for such a long time and It’s been on my mind. I usually have a face I can put to a name. I’ve enclosed a picture of me in this letter and If you’re comfortable, I was wondering if you’d send one back? No pressure.

F.W.

P.S. The canary creams are a hit!

You look behind the letter and pull out the enclosed picture. You see a tall pale boy with flaming ginger hair. He’s smirking along with someone who looks exactly like him in the background messing with a familiar orange and purple Weasley box. In the picture, Fred has circled the twin in the foreground and labeled it “Fred” and the one in the background “my less handsome brother, George.” You let out a little chuckle. This is exactly what you expected from Fred.

~

A week and a half have passed since Fred sent the letter with the picture in it. With each passing day, Fred worries he’s driven you off with being too forward. He’s considering writing a letter to apologize and beg things can go back to the way it was. he misses writing to you and having to enchant the parchment so it looks scrambles so Umbridge doesn’t read his mail to you about the D.A. and then getting back mail you’ve charmed to look like doodles in a notebook. It was like your own code that you’d both have to undo to read.  

He missed hearing about ilvermorny and your classes. He longed for the day he could hear about the plan you’d set up with Fred’s help for revenge on James and Martin where you’d charm fireworks to go off and chase them around the Ilvermorny grounds until they admitted they were assholes.

George and Lee assured him that he had nothing to worry about, that you probably got busy with school work and will write back soon. Lee also suggested your letter might have gotten lost in the mail, but that thought only made Fred worry. Maybe you had sent a message long ago and you weren’t getting a response because he hadn’t gotten one yet, and maybe he shouldn’t send a letter now because it might pop up once he sends his own letter and he’ll look like an idiot. he can only hope a letter from you is on its way now.

As Fred begins to descend into another pit of worry the next day, an owl comes to land at his side. Fred grabs the letter with fervor, nearly knocking the poor owl off its feet in excitement. The owl hoots angrily in protest at Fred’s sudden movement and flies away after pouting and ruffling its feathers. He rips the envelope open, almost damaging the letter itself. Taking out his wand, he rushes to a bathroom so no member of the inquisitorial squad or Umbridge herself can see him take the charm off the paper that currently has a drawing of a sloth on it.

Dear Freddie,

I’m sorry for not getting back to you in the last week or so. I had a midterm and I didn’t want to let you down by only sending you a scrap of paper saying I had a test. I hope it went well.

Thanks for sharing that picture with me. You and your brother are very cute together. I didn’t expect your hair to be so bright, but then again, I’m not around many people with red hair. I’ve also sent you a picture of me. It was taken during Care of Magical Creatures. The niffler unit was my favorite. They’re like magical platypuses!

I hope it’s what you expected? I don’t know what to say (haha).

Wow! The Canary Creams are working finally? That’s awesome! Did feathers get everywhere? Who was the poor test subject?

I’m glad everything is working out, Freddie.  

- Y/n

Fred smiles down at the paper from within the stall. You’ve always been supportive of the business. You were almost as excited about it as he and George were. He looks down at the picture you’ve sent along with your letter and his heart skips a little bit. 

You’re smiling at the camera with a niffler in your arms. As the picture moves, you laugh as the niffler squirms and tries to reach for the shiny watch on your wrist. As he observes the picture more, he sees there’s a warm twinkling in your eye. you look so happy. Returning to his dorm room, Fred opens his trunk and tucks the photograph into the corner of his trunk next to some logo designs and a family picture with a pair of horns and a monocle drawn on Percy. He smiles. That’s where that picture will stay.

~

Time has passed, yet you and Fred have kept in touch. Fred’s now living above the shop in Diagon Alley with George after their grand escape from Hogwarts, which you supported him through one hundred percent despite never ever meeting.  

Throughout the months, you’ve both been mailing and you’ve helped him develop new products, acting as a remote filter and outside perspective for the twins, which you enjoyed the process of.  

All the while Fred has supported you through your last year at Ilvermorny since you’re a year younger than he is. Even though he didn’t finish school doesn’t mean he can’t support and help you at all.  

Through your letters, you’ve started calling him “your special Freddie,” making Fred’s heart swoop and swoon as he imagines what your voice sounds like saying it to him.  Time goes on and he’s falling, but Fred doesn’t resist it.  You’ve always been there for him and he knows he’ll be there for you through think and thin.  As he realizes he’s in love, he starts to worry that you won’t return his feelings, but even if you don’t he still wants you in his life.  You make him happy.  It’s as simple as that.

After getting up one morning, Fred heads down to the shop to do inventory downstairs. He notices that it’s darker outside today, even more so today than usual. Both he and Georgie have noticed things have been darkening lately with Voldemort and his followers running around Britain, but today is especially dark.  

Fred hears a knock at the door of the shop. The shop was closed today and most of the regulars knew that this wasn’t a time they’d be open. Cautiously, Fred draws his wand and approaches the door, careful to not step into view in case it wasn’t a welcomed guest. Fred peeks around the corner and notices it’s his father. Wand still drawn, he cautiously approaches the door.

“Which twin said ‘honestly woman, you call yourself our mother?’ at the station before my third year?” Fred asks through the glass at the man he thinks is his father, knowing his dad wants to abide by Ministry guidance about identification.

“Fred did,” Mr. Weasley answers but notices how Fred’s face sinks a bit at his response.  “You did. Sorry, Fred.”

Fred cautiously lets him in, not putting his wand away,

“Fred, Dumbledore is dead,” Mr. Weasley explains.  “Snape was the one who carried it out.”

“That tr-” Fred starts, but Mr. Weasley holds his hand up.

“I know, Fred. I just wanted to come by and tell you before you get it from the Prophet. I also wanted to tell you... We’re not safe anymore. The ministry has most likely been infiltrated or will be infiltrated in the next few days. Keep your guard up. With Dumbledore gone, this fight just got much more difficult,” Arthur explains, sighing deeply and rubbing his face.  “I trust you’ll tell George?”

Fred nods as his dad says goodbye and gives him a “see you soon” before apparating away. Fred locks the door and puts down the shutters with his wand. He rushes up the stairs and scribbles on a piece of parchment his last letter to you before the war, explaining what’s happening, that the mail is probably going to be tracked and opened, that things are getting dangerous. He insists that you shouldn’t write back even if it’s tempting and that he’ll write to you once the war is over.  Fred considers signing it “Love, Fred” because this might be the last time he ever writes to you, but doesn’t; he just writes:

See you on the other side of the war, y/n. Stay safe. 

Yours truly, Fred Weasley

-----

Read Part 2 Here!