#this was for a class and I’m actually pleasantly surprised with how it turned out

[thewisestdino]

Metal moth COMPLETE!

[misstycloud]

Isekai’d yandere x f.reader

We’ve all heard about reader getting isekai’d into another universe and bonding with the characters, but what if it was the opposite and the yandere was isekai’d while reader’s just a background character.

————-

You were the mere daughter of a baron. You were pretty, yes, but nothing to gape in awe at. To summarise, you were nothing special. Then how come the heir of a grand duchy followed you around like a puppy seeking its masters attention? Especially since it was only the day earlier that he smitten with another young miss, who he’d declared with his actions was to become his future fiancée.

Yandere! Noble who suddenly approached you out of nowhere one day. You weren’t friends and had hardly ever spoken; to ask directions or work in pairs, perhaps. He was way too cheery speaking to you. It was completely out of character for him. Where did the normally stoic and unphased young man go? He was certainly not to be found here. No, this man chatted your ear off and did not understand that you wished to be left alone. It didn’t feel very safe anymore when all his admirers glared daggers your way. There was one you were especially afraid of. He was head over heels in love with her before. What has changed? You always saw them together and she was the only one he’d smiled at genuinely. Now he didn’t even spare her a glance.

Yandere! Noble who sought you out whenever he had free time. He wanted to accompany you in breaks between your classes at the academy, he wished to escort you to town and he even showed up outside your estate. His change in behaviour was puzzling, but not as much as the shift in his speech. What were these ‘bruh’, ‘sigma’ and ‘I’m cooked’? You didn’t understand any of it, no matter how much he used it around you. You suppose you were thankful he did turn it down a notch when in others company. You already had a hard time with it, you didn’t think it was necessary for others to suffer as well.

Yandere! Noble who had been shocked when they died and woken up in the world of their favourite romance game. They had read a lot of isekai novels but never once thought the thing was actually real. Wait, if this was their favourite game, then wouldn’t that mean that you were there too? Yes! Maybe they should thank Truck-kun for hitting them on their way to work. This was much better than any ordinary life a citizen could have. At first they thought they’d be stuck in the body of a villain or a side character, but they were pleasantly surprised to find themselves being the male lead of the game. He was rich, noble, influential and devilishly handsome. He had everything.

Yandere! Noble who immediately went to the academy to find you. When playing the game, they never found themselves attracted to the female lead, despite the fact she was modelled after the general population’s preferences. It just didn’t work for them. No, they liked you. Loved you even! It didn’t matter that you were nothing more than a simple background character. You were way better and cuter than any other love interest! You kept to yourself and didn’t have many friends, however you were still very kind and modest. On top of that, you were also an animal lover- exactly like them! The two of you also shared one other interest. They wanted to know if you shared more, but unfortunately the information on you was limited(not created because you’re not important).

Yandere! Noble who wrote an email to the game developers about how they should make extra content that should only feature new information and updates on you. They insist it would sell well(no one except them would buy). Sadly they never got a reply back. Rude ass company. Maybe they should’ve claimed mental health damage because the love interests were bad, so they could sue.

Yandere! Noble who couldn’t care less about the female lead. Unfortunately they got isekaid to at the point of the game where you’d have to enter a relationship with the female lead, that you could break off eventually if you wanted to chase after someone else. And sadly for her, you were the only option. The look on her face was laughable as they told her they could give rats ass about her and how they’ve found someone much better than her in all ways.

Yandere! Noble who then realised they were not bound by any rules. In a lot of isekai the person would have to follow some original rules at least in the beginning, but there was no system or points you needed to collect. They could do whatever they wanted. They had the power, the looks, the wealth and what they wanted was you.

There is no way you’d ever say no to a future grand duke, right?

[cookiescribble]

Extracurricular

(gif source)

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts fully written for like a month, i’m so sorry 😅 but i know we all love the professor episode, so I had to write a little something about it 🫶🏻 - mod angel

Pairing: Professor!Reid x Wife!Reader

Summary: Spencer is confused about why so many students are auditing his class. As his wife, you decide to come and investigate.

~~~

You heard the apartment door open, glancing up to see Spencer drop his keys on the table by the door. 

You were reading on the couch, laying down and killing time before it was time for him to come home. You sat up, placing your bookmark on the page you last read before dropping your book on the coffee table. “Welcome home,” you smiled up at him. 

He flashed a little smile, but you could tell something was up. You moved to sit cross-legged, making room for him on the couch. “What’s wrong?” You asked, patting the spot next to you so he could sit. 

He plopped down on the couch, sighing, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into you. 

“You looked so excited this morning,” you ran your fingers through his hair, something that had become routine when he came back from a tough case, or just needed some extra affection for any reason. “What happened?”

He sighed again, turning to look at you, resting his head back on the couch. “I don’t know, I was really excited to teach. I love sharing what I know with people.”

You nodded, fully aware of this. It was something you loved about him, always eager to teach you something new. It was annoying when other people did it, but not when Spencer did it. “Uh-huh. So what’s the problem?”

“I… I was eager to be an actual professor, hoping I could help people with their studies and their grades.” He looked a little frustrated. “But most people are only auditing the class. Only a handful aren’t.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not what you were expecting, huh?”

He shook his head. “I mean, I guess it’s good that people want to learn about this stuff? It’s just not how I pictured it.” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “At least they’re listening to me. And some of them are pretty enthusiastic about participating. There were a few girls who seemed really excited about this stuff.”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes a bit, a little smile on your face. “Wait, so… these people are auditing your class. And girls are participating… you said they listen to you… do you think they’re paying a little too much attention to you?” You inquired, slightly amused.

He gave you a confused look. “What do you mean? I think it’s a normal amount of attention to pay to a class.” He shrugged. “I mean, I always felt like no one was paying enough attention when I was in college, so I was pleasantly surprised that people were actually participating, asking questions, some of them even stayed for a bit after the class let out because they wanted to know more.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. “Uh-huh… so, you got college students to not only stay awake, but alert and attentive… and they wanted to stay after class,” you spoke slowly, wondering if he would get the hint.

He nodded. “Yeah? Why?”

You gave him a pat on the shoulder, smiling and shaking your head. “Yeah, I know exactly why so many people are auditing your class.”

He still looked confused. Very oblivious. It was kind of adorable. “I don’t understand,” he replied, his brows furrowed.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, twirling a finger in his hair. “They must’ve heard that this class has a sexy professor.” You laugh softly, watching the cogs turn in his brain as he processed this.

He scrunched his nose a bit, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think that…” He stopped, his eyes darting around as he became deep in thought. Probably perfectly recalling everything from his class that day. “… You really think that’s it?”

You nodded, kissing his cheek. “It’s adorable you wouldn’t have even considered that if I didn’t say anything.” He was absentmindedly running his thumb over your hand that rested on his shoulder. “I mean, I don’t blame them. I’d definitely audit your class.” You took his hand and started twirling his wedding band around his ring finger. “Did you tell them you’re married?”

He started to blush a little at the attention you were giving him, and at the thought of other people wanting to give him attention. “I’m pretty sure I mentioned it at some point… I think someone asked about it-“ He cut himself off, looking at you again. “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

You laughed, draping your legs over his as you gave him a quick kiss on the lips, which he returned. “Maybe I should visit your class, see what all the fuss is about,” you winked at him.

He smiled, running his fingers through your hair. “I don’t know if I’d be able to concentrate with you there.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead. “But, I admit, it would be nice.”

The conversation eventually fizzled out, as you and Spencer naturally fell into your usual evening routine; mostly just sitting on the couch in each other’s arms, talking, watching TV, and eating dinner. 

You had an idea in your head the whole time, keeping it to yourself. You had a surprise planned out now. 

…

The next day, after Spencer left for his class, you quickly got dressed to head out, throwing on a sweater and modest skirt with some flats. Nothing too fancy, you wanted to fit in with the other students. 

You remembered him telling you the building his class was in, and you were able to slip in like you were supposed to be there. You found the classroom after wandering for a while, quite a few students already sat in the class. Of course; very eager, you thought

You thought about just sitting in the back to blend in with the background, but something possessed you to sit in the middle near the other girls in the class. Not really jealousy; you knew Spencer has never even given anyone else a second glance since you started dating. It was more like… pride. Perhaps a smug feeling. You may be infatuated, but that’s my husband.

You sat down near a group of girls, and they eyed you for a moment. You fidgeted, thinking they were going to start whispering bad things about you. Habit from when you were in school. 

Instead, one of the girls leaned over, speaking to you in a friendly tone. “Hey, are you new to this class?”

You probably should have just admitted that you weren’t actually a student, but part of you just wanted to see what would happen. “Yeah, this is my first time here.”

She leaned in to whisper, “Did you hear about the professor? Is that why you’re here?” She was giving you a genuine look, seemingly just curious. Or maybe happy to talk to someone about this. 

You feigned innocence. “No, I was just interested in the subject. Is there something special about him?” You reply in the same hushed tone as her.

She looked at the other girls around her, and they all giggled. One of the other girls responded. “He’s super hot. Didn’t you hear the rumors?”

You bit back a smile. It felt strange, having people talk about him like this. “No, I didn’t hear anything. Is that really true?” You tried to seem interested, without being conspicuous. 

All the girls nodded. You leaned in a bit to match their enthusiasm. 

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” one of the girls whispered. “He said he’s very happily married.” She all but rolled her eyes at that. 

A little smile appeared on your face, a warm feeling rushing over you. You put your hand under the table, hiding your wedding ring. “Really? Well… maybe I can have better luck with him.” You rested your chin in your other hand, smiling smugly. 

She scoffed, obviously not believing you. “Yeah, sure. He wouldn’t even look at any of us.” She shook her head. “If you want to believe it, go ahead. I’ll be waiting to say I told you so.”

You were cut off by the sound of a door opening and closing. Spencer stepped out in front of everyone, putting some papers down on his desk. The girls immediately stopped their conversation, sitting up straighter in their chairs and facing forwards. You covered your mouth to keep yourself from snickering. 

Spencer greeted the class, who echoed back his greeting. He started to introduce the material he was going to be talking about today, when his eyes settled on you. His expression softened. 

You gave him a little wink and a subtle wave. He looked like he was holding back a smile, looking away from you to concentrate on teaching. 

It was really a sight to behold, he had most of the class twirling their hair, wrapped around his finger without him even realizing. Not like you could blame the students; he was always able to make everything seem fun and exciting. It was something you loved about him. 

The class seemed to fly by. You were honestly glad you came; you could watch him talk for hours. You’re sure he would if you asked, and you were considering it after seeing this. 

When he dismissed the class, the girls started swarming him at his desk. You laughed and rolled your eyes, standing up slowly and hanging back a bit. 

You could see him politely answering questions, ignoring the girls sitting on his desk and quickly packing up his things. 

You walked closer to his desk, and he looked up and smiled. “Hey!” He called out to you, rushing over to wrap you up in a hug. You could feel the stares on you as you settled into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. “I didn’t know you were coming today!”

You smiled up at him. “I thought I’d surprise you.” You reached up to give him a quick peck on the lips, solidifying the jealous eyes that were glaring daggers at you. You couldn’t help it; you felt a pride building up inside you that you were the one he sought out while he was being crowded like this. “Surprise?”

He laughed, tucking you into his side, his arm around your waist. “Yeah, surprise.” He turned to everyone who was still lingering around you, their faces a mix of confusion and jealousy. “Everyone, this is my wife.”

You gave a small wave, everyone greeting you halfheartedly. You locked eyes with the girl who initially approached you earlier. She seemed more embarrassed than angry. 

Spencer gave you one last little hug. “I have a few things to finish up, I’ll meet you home later, okay?”

You nodded, giving him one last little parting kiss before he slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk out of the classroom door. 

Everyone was looking at you again, and you felt a little embarrassed now that Spencer wasn’t there with you. You started to excuse yourself quietly, trying to get out the door quickly without bringing more attention to yourself. 

You heard someone catch the door after it almost closed behind you. “Hey,” they called out as they caught up to you. 

You turned to see the same girl again, and you had to suppress your instinct to run away. Instead, you just nodded at her, giving her your attention since that was obviously what she was asking for. 

“I, uh…” she started, her tone nervous. “What I said earlier, I wasn’t trying to say anything bad about you, I was just…” 

You gave a soft chuckle in response, shaking your head. “It’s alright. I get it.” You gave a little wave of dismissal. “I might’ve done the same if I was in your position.”

That seemed to ease her worries a bit. “Thanks for being cool about this.” She hugged the books she was carrying closer to her chest. She spoke a little softer. “Dr. Reid spoke very highly of you, you know. When we asked about his wedding ring.” She flinched a bit. “Which I guess was kind of a weird thing to ask…”

You smiled, shaking your head a bit. He had people asking about his wedding ring, and he didn’t even have a second thought about it. “It’s alright. He didn’t even think anything of it. He thought you were just really interested in the course material.”

She furrowed her brows. “Really?” She still looked confused when you nodded. “Huh. Well, I guess he really loves you if he doesn’t even notice people flirting with him.”

You shrugged. “No, he’s just a little clueless when it comes to this kind of thing. I had to really spell it out for him that I was interested in him when I asked him out on our first date.” You smiled warmly at the memory, reliving those early days of your relationship, so long ago now.

She let out a soft laugh. “That’s kinda funny, actually.” She stopped walking, looking like she had to start walking a different way. “So… no hard feelings?”

You turned towards her and shook your head. “No, not at all. Maybe try not to come onto him in the future, though.” You smiled slightly, your tone light and casual.

“Of course,” she laughed awkwardly. “Um. I have to go to class now, so…”

You nodded at her. “Go ahead. Hope you have a good day.”

She smiled. “You’re really cool. I see why he likes you. Most people would’ve been really angry if they were in this situation.”

“Well, I’m not insecure about our relationship.” You felt your phone buzz, and you took it out of your pocket to see a text from Spencer, making you smile. “And I don’t fault anyone for being attracted to him.”

“Cool,” she said, starting to step back a little more. “Um. It was nice meeting you.”

You gave her a little wave. “You too. Hope you enjoy the class; Spencer is really happy to be able to teach people, so I hope everyone is actually listening to him and not just staring at him.” 

She laughed lightly, her demeanor a little warmer now. “I’ll try to get the message out.” She waved and said goodbye before turning around and walking away. 

You finally looked at the text Spencer sent you: 

Hey, do you think you could pick up some dessert on your way home? I’m really craving something sweet. Maybe we could make brownies?

You smiled to yourself. Seeing all those people throwing themselves at Spencer really made you appreciate what you had with him. He had people gawking over him, but you were the one who got to go home with him and make dessert, and have all these sweet moments with him. You’d never get over just how lucky you were to be the one he chose to spend his life with. 

[little-diable]

Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by. 

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to. 

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats. 

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest. 

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.” 

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by. 

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs. 

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then. 

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme. 

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church. 

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground. 

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.” 

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him. 

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes. 

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue. 

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by. 

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment. 

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know. 

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind. 

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n). 

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment. 

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n). 

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space. 

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes. 

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap. 

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit. 

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish. 

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.” 

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety. 

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.” 

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls. 

[pawnshopbleus]

Happy Birthday, Miss. President

Professor!Abby Anderson x Fem!Student!Reader

Contains - smut, teacher and student relationship, Reader is 22 and Abby is 32, this isn’t beta read so…

Summary - When an alumni meeting and your birthday fall on the same day, Professor Abby Anderson finds a way to make up for it.

Author's note - I don’t know how college works because I’m a senior in high school. Let’s just pretend that Harvard has class presidents. Let’s also pretend this is in character for Abby.

When you ran for senior class president you knew that there would be certain commitments that you could not break. You promised the entire student body that you would take their concerns into account. You wanted Harvard to become an inclusive school where everyone was welcomed. You weren’t expecting to win considering that you were running against Dina Williams, head cheerleader and every man's dream girl. When you won, you were pleasantly surprised and couldn’t wait to get to work. That was until you found out what it meant to actually be the class president.

You needed to approve new clubs, promote pep rallies, set up the student section for football games, host spirit week, hold outreach meetings, and attend all the club meetings. To say that your life would be busy would be an understatement.

That was three months ago. Now, it is a cold October day. The trees rustled along the windows of lecture room two hundred and eleven. Some heads were settled on the desk in front of them while others quickly scribbled down notes. Professor Anderson, the chemistry professor, and your advisor glided through each slide about molecular structure. You watched as students dropped their pencils and pens to give their poor little hands a break from writing. You enjoyed the show from the comfort of your teacher's assistant's desk.

The clock struck five pm, indicating the end of class. Students rejoiced as they packed up their things and left the lecture room, leaving only you and Professor Anderson in the classroom.

You watched with attentive eyes as she walked over to her desk in the front of the room. It was dimly lit and cold over there, casting an angelic glow over her. Professor Anderson was wearing the forest green button-up blouse that you liked so much. It was made out of cotton meaning that sometimes it gets too hot. When she overheats in her clothes she likes to unbutton the top three buttons of her blouse. If one tries hard enough they can get a small glimpse of the bra she's wearing. You feel like a perv for knowing, but the professor isn’t so innocent either. Sometimes you catch her licking her lips as she stares at you, completely forgetting that she’s in a room with hundreds of other people.

As a chemistry major, you need to take many advanced chemistry classes. Since the first day of class, you found yourself staring at Professor Anderson as she taught. She would often lean on her desk in front of the class while her arms were crossed in front of her. She was the type of woman that you fantasized about. Tall, strong, and smart.

At first, it started out as a simple attraction towards her, then it turned into a crush, and now you were completely infatuated with her. You felt like you struck gold when she was appointed to be your advisor.

You get up from your chair and walk over to Professor Anderson’s desk. She looks up at you through her half-moon glasses. Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly. She prefers to wear her hair in a braid, but on rare occasions, she will wear it down, just the way you like it.

“Come pull up a chair. We have some things to go over,” Professor Anderson said as she pulled out her calendar.

You dragged a chair from the corner and placed it next to her. Now that you were just inches away from her, you could smell the keynotes of her perfume. Black cherry, tonka bean, and almond. You inhaled the scent through your nose and exhaled. She smelled good enough to eat.

Professor Anderson flipped her hair from one shoulder to the other, giving you a good view of her neck. God, how you wished you were a vampire right now so you could sink your teeth into her perfect neck. You wanted to consume her, mind, body, and soul. Maybe that was a little violent, but it was true.

You were sitting so close to her that if you extended your pinky just a little bit you would be touching her.

“So, what is it you wanted to go over?” you squeaked. You hate how pathetic you sound every time you speak with her. Oh, how you wished you could exhibit the confidence some lesbians had in television and movies.

At least your birthday is coming soon. It was next Friday, the perfect day for it to fall on. After two hours of classes, you would return to your shoebox of an apartment and watch a stupid rom-com while you drank boxed wine. Now that sounded like the perfect way to spend your twenty-second birthday.

“You have a very busy week ahead of you. On Monday you have a GSA meeting to go to, the Tuesday there is an event you need to set up for, Wednesday there’s a peer counseling session you need to over see, on Thursday there’s a short film screening that you need to make an appearance at, and on Friday there’s an alumni meeting that you need to attend.” Professor Anderson took a deep breath in to catch her breath after talking for so long.

Your eyes widened with horror. No, you couldn’t spend your birthday in a stupid meeting. “Professor, I don’t think I can make it to the meeting on Friday. It’s my birthday.”

“Friday is your only mandatory day. I’m sorry but you have to go.” Professor Anderson put her hand on your upper thigh and squeezed it. She must have realized what she had done because she quickly took her hand off our thigh and cleared her throat.

You let out a small sigh of frustration and played with the sleeve of the top you were wearing. You weren’t going to complain. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful in front of your professor.

“I’ll be there, Professor,” you assured her.

“Do me a favor. When it’s just the two of us, call me Abby.”

Abby, short for Abigail. A name of Hebrew origin deeply intertwined with a figure of great beauty and intellect.

“That’s a beautiful name,” you gave her a tight-lipped smile that didn’t really reach your eyes. You were still a little disappointed about not having your birthday off, but this is what you get for running for class president.

You dismissed yourself and began the trek from your college campus to your apartment. Leaves were falling and trees that still had their coverings began to change color. The wind rustled and shook the naked branches of trees. The sun was setting, and the streetlights were about to turn on.

You hugged yourself tight as you walked against the wind. You kept licking your lips as you walked, silently cursing yourself for not bringing Vaseline with you.

You reached into your bag to search for the keys to your apartment. You unlocked the door and dropped your things on the floor. You replaced your day clothes with your pajamas and got into bed, but you couldn’t fall asleep. You stayed up all night thinking about a certain blonde-haired professor that looked like a dream.

— — — — — —

The alumni meeting was in full swing. Men and Women in their forties and fifties mixing and mingling with each other. The room smelled of expensive perfume and cologne, no doubt it was from the amount of money most of the alumni went on to make. Most of them are very successful doctors, engineers, scientists, CEOs, tech pioneers, and entertainment executives. The rest of them peaked in college and have thousands of dollars in debt.

You stood at the back of the auditorium smiling once in a while at alumni who caught your eye. So far, you haven’t done anything. The most you did was direct a lost man who needed to use the restroom. When you told him that the restrooms were in the other hall he mumbled something under his breath. It went along the lines of things sure have changed since I went here. You didn’t have it in your heart to tell him that the restrooms have always been down that hall.

You silently cursed Abby for making you attend this meeting. You could have been at home celebrating your birthday, but instead, you had to stand in the back of a stuffy room with people way older than you.

The latest Abby could have done was attend the meeting. Could you even call this a meeting?

A man who looked like he was in his late sixties stepped on the stage in the front of the room. He tapped the mic three times and spoke into it. His voice was raspy, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of the entire Harvard community, I welcome you back to your alma mater.” Everyone in the room began to clap. The sound was overwhelming. The man on stage began speaking again. “Now, I would like to welcome one of our best professors to the stage. She is a Harvard graduate herself and now teaches chemistry in the Department Of Chemistry and Chemical Engineering. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, Professor Abigail Anderson.”

Abby stepped out in a black jumpsuit and red Louboutins. Her hair fell down in beautiful waves and grazed her open back. She looked like a dream up on that stage.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” her eyes began to scan the crowd and once they fell upon yours she smiled and began speaking again, “I am here tonight to reward all of you for your kind and generous donations. All of you will be rewarded with your own monument in the botanical gardens.” The alumni began to clap and cheer.

Is this why you needed to be here? To watch some rich people pay their way to the top?

You pushed your way through the sea of older people and made your way outside. Autumn in Massachusetts was fairly cold, but winter was colder and harsher. You hugged yourself in hopes that your own body heat would warm you up as you began walking in the direction of your apartment. This was your first time as class president leaving a function early. There was no reason for you to be there.

“Where are you going?” Abby asked from the doorway of the auditorium.

You huffed, causing you to see your breath in the cold air, “I’m going home.”

Abby ran up after you, “As senior class president it is your duty to be here. As your advisor, I will not tolerate your attitude.”

You stopped walking, “There’s no reason for me to be there. Either this is a ploy for the room to look packed or you really hate me. There are other ways I would like to spend my twenty-second birthday and being in a room with Harvard alumni is not one of them.”

“Listen to me,” she said your name in a tone that can only be described as stern. You could have melted from how much your skin heated up, but you kept your composure. “I understand that it’s your birthday, but I need you to go back there and mingle with people for a little bit.”

You inhaled the cold autumn air through your nose and exhaled. “Fine,” you said flatly.

“Good,” Abby’s cherry red lips stretched into a smile at your agreement. “By the way, I have a surprise for you in my classroom. You’ll have to wait till later to open it though.” Abby winked before returning to the auditorium.

You followed her back into the auditorium. Not because you wanted to, but because you had to. You returned to your place in the back of the room. You took a sip of the water that was on the refreshment table in the front of the room. You wanted to stay sober enough for whatever Abby had in the classroom.

— — — — — —

The auditorium was mostly empty. The alumni have returned to their accommodations for the night. The only people that were left were you, Abby, and the janitorial staff.

Abby beckoned you to follow her with her hand. The two of you walked side by side to her classroom. You were at a respectable distance so as to not cause suspicion, but you wished you could be closer to her. You wanted to feel her skin on yours.

The two of you reached her classroom a few minutes later. It was cold in her classroom, if not colder than outside.

Abby lit two vanilla-scented candles instead of turning on the lights. The flames bounced off the walls of the classroom causing it to cast an angelic glow over the both of you.

Abby walked over to her desk and grabbed a small box from her drawer. “Happy birthday,” she said as she handed you the box.

Inside was a silver necklace with your first initial. “Oh, Abby. I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Your words were all over the place and all of a sudden you felt bad for the way you treated her earlier.

“It’s no problem. Here, let me help you put it on,” she volunteered. She held the necklace in between her fingers and slid it around your neck. The cold metal kissed your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

You looked at Abby over your shoulder and gave her a soft smile. When your eyes met her, that's when you realized that her eyes were focused on your lips. “Abby?” you whispered. Her eyes flickered up to meet yours, silently asking for permission. You gave her a soft nod and she kissed you. Years worth of pent-up emotions came down to this. Her kissing you in the spur of the moment.

You immediately returned the kiss, your lips meeting hers with the same amount of fervor. Your hands tangled into the long strands of her hair. Abby tasted just like cherries, sweet and a little tart. Now that you’ve had a taste of her you wouldn’t be able to get it out of your mind.

Abby broke the kiss, giving you a few moments to catch your breath. You were high with desire for your professor. “Do you want this?” she asked. Abby wanted to make sure that you were one hundred percent on board with this before you went any further.

You nodded your head and Abby asked. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you breathed. You were surprised at your ability to form words at the present moment.

Once she had your verbal consent she attacked your lips once more. This time she allowed her hands to glide up and down your body. Her hands explored every inch and curve of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Remnants of her red lipstick painted your skin along the way.

You were getting bored of the teasing so you guided her hands under the top you were wearing, giving her permission to take it off. The rest of your clothes are soon to follow. Now, you’re left with nothing on but your necklace as Abby guides you to lie down on her desk. It’s cold and hard, but that’s the least of your worries when you have a naked Abby Anderson hovering on top of you.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do this properly, but I couldn’t wait,” Abby whispers into your skin as she leaves trails of wet kisses on your skin.

Abby’s trail eventually leads to where you need her the most. Your sex is exposed to the cold air of her classroom. Her hands latch onto the fat of your thighs as she trails kisses on the inside of your thighs. It was one of the most erotic sights you’ve ever seen. Abby was down there, her hair grazing her naked skin, the glow of the candles making her look like a goddess.

Abby licks up and down your slit, getting you nice and wet for her fingers. Your thighs twitched, not being used to the feeling of getting eaten out, but Abby kept them apart with her hands. She continued massaging your clit with her tongue. She was using methodical strokes. Up and down and side to side were her favorites.

She inserted one finger in first, getting you used to her size. Her fingers were thick so it took a few thrusts for you to finally feel ready for another. Her fingers slid in and out of your slick hole as she continued sucking your clit.

You were close. You could feel your orgasm pooling in your lower stomach. “Abby,” you breathed, “I’m close.”

“I know, baby. I can feel it.”

And without further warning you came, your juices painting her face Abby helped you through your orgasm, stroking your clit a few times for good measure.

It took both of you a few moments to collect your breath. Abby then got a towel that she had in her desk and cleaned you up. She proceeds to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.

Abby let out a laugh of delight, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

“Really?” Your forehead scrunched up in confusion, “Why?”

Abby then proceeded to compliment you more times than you can count. You bit your lip, trying to hide the smile that was growing on your face. This was the best birthday celebration a girl could ask for.

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

Let's pretend that was good!

[loaksky]

hello! would you consider writing modern avatar stuff? if ur cool w that can i request modern human neteyam relationship headcanons?

wait hold the phone yes i would actually ! wanted to hold off on posting this to include headcanons about what modern!neteyam would be like in a relationship, but i’m so eager to come back ! instead here’s some background about him & reader leading up to the relationship (part 2 pending if you guys want it) ! headcanons under the cut & for all intents + purposes, i picture college-neteyam ! additionally, in my brain, it’s canon that teyam as a human would be poc, hence the reference pictures i included below ! <3

so i definitely see neteyam having a very soft aesthetic, he’s such a sweetheart tbh

fs think that the two of you would have a meetcute in university & then end up being college sweethearts

his major is something specific like environmental engineering or child psychology ? he’s definitely really smart and excels in all of his classes !

which brings me to how the two of you would meet ? perhaps he’s taking an elective course in pottery and your major is in art with a concentration in three dimensional composition

the class is considered a lab, so the professor emails out the syllabus and students come and go as they please during class hours to work on their compositions.

halfway thru the sem, you and teyam stumble upon each other in the storage room between two classrooms, fetching different pieces that need to be glazed + fired.

“sorry, you can—”

“nah, you first—”

you laugh and neteyam’s smiling because WOW you’re really cute + had he known that someone as lovely as you was in the same section as him, he’d probably hang around the classroom more.

from that moment on, neteyam’s always lingering during the class’ meeting time, even if he’s already finished with his projects for the week because he wants to get to know you SO bad, but he’s way too shy.

(probably still canon that he’s phenomenal at literally everything, but i think it’d be so cute if he had 0 legitimate rizz bc he’s so used to kinda just bein’ him and pulling bc he’s a jack of all trades type of guy)

“what are you making?” you ask him one day and he snatches his airpod out of his ear so quickly even though he’s not listening to anything.

“ashtray” he answers quietly, a lil self-conscious because he’s come to find out that you’re absolutely amazing at sculpting and while you do this for your future, he does it is as a pastime / elective to graduate. “but like i don’t smoke or anything yknow, i just thought that i’d be a good thing to–”

you’re staring at him with the corner of your mouth quirked and he shuts up quickly, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he slumps on his stool.

“you should score using a crosshatch,” you tell him simply. “makes the pieces stick together better.”

he looks down at where he’d been scratching the damp clay laterally and your hands hover over his, head tilting to the side.

“can i?”

oh yeah, yeah! sure,” he splutters, leaning back a little to watch you work your magic.

can’t help but watch the way your fingers work over the clay, knuckles smudged with glaze and dust coating the silver of your rings.

he watches your hands, but soon he’s watching your face because you’re concentrated so hard on making sure you’re using your best technique for the little ashtray.

lo and behold, the pieces stick together so perfectly and smoothly, ready to be fired in the kiln, and neteyam’s grateful.

“thanks,” he sighs almost dreamily.

“yeah, of course. glad to help,” you tell him.

when you return to your own project, you slam back the rest of your melting drink and neteyam’s eyes are squinting the get a read on what it is you order.

you’re pleasantly surprised when you turn up to pottery the next session to work on a new project, and neteyam’s there with two coffees, one next to his wheel, another near yours.

“what’s this?” you hum, tying your apron with a messy bow.

“a thank you,” he says shyly. “for helping me last time.”

your eyes widen when you see your favorite; a chai with almondmilk, vanilla, and a shot of espresso.

“how’d you…”

“it’s what you were drinking…” he responds. “last week. i think.

“oh…” you trail off, cheeks hot because he noticed ???

“you don’t have to—”

“NO!” you yelp, a tad loud. some of the other students working on a few last minute projects peer at the two of you and teyam’s grinning like an idiot when he sees the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and reach for the drink. “this is good! it’s great. thank you so much. i actually missed my run this morning.”

“yeah, of course,” he sighs, rolling his lips together as the two of you kinda get off to a clunky start.

the silence between the two of you is a lil awkward, but you decide to break the ice since teyam’s technically played his hand and the ball’s in your court.

“are you an art major ?” you ask.

“uh, nah,” he'd say, rubbing his sweaty palms on the thighs of his baggy jeans because HE SHOWED UP TO CLASS 15 MINUTES EARLY and the agony of not knowing if you’d show up made him so nervous. “environmental engineering.”

your eyebrows raise ever so slightly, lips forming an ‘o’ bc wow that must mean he’s super smart.

“wow, that’s insane,” you say quietly. “what made you take pottery ?”

“only elective that didn’t make me wanna claw my eyes out,” he laughs nervously. “what about you ? what’s your major ?”

you seem to mull over your thoughts for a moment, obviously a little hesitant to answer.

“3d art...nothing special...” you trail off.

neteyam begins working with the slab of clay waiting for him in the center of the wheel, cheeks going hot because the words leave him before he can stop them.

“no, no. i think that’s really cool. art is a really challenging passion to have & i admire people willing to dive in full stop.”

the comment makes you smile, fingers pliant over the wet clay.

neteyam wants to DIE because he can’t read whether or not your smile is genuine or if you’re grimacing because he’s the biggest idiot ever.

he supposes it’s the former when you two are parting ways, signing the attendance log and you decide to bite the bullet and write your instagram handle on the bottom corner of the page and tear it off to hand to him.

he’s barely able to get a ‘thank you’ out before you’re racing out the door with your gifted coffee in hand.

you’re so giddy when you run out of the building and your phone pings in the front pocket of your satchel and you see that teyam.sully has followed you.

after that day, you two become really friendly !

neteyam frequently dms you about class, but eventually, he starts sending you vids and memes, saying that they made him think of you.

it becomes so obvious to both of your friend groups that you’re crushing on each other, but both of you are too painfully shy to say anything despite every green flag.

soon, looking forward to seeing each other during class turns into neteyam subtly asking you to hang out.

you make a comment about one of his hoodies and he mentions that he thrifted it.

“wait really??” you’re pausing your work to look at him. “i love thrifting!”

he smiles wide, word vomiting before he can stop himself.

“yeah? i know a couple of good places if you’re down.”

you say yes, DUH !

looking back at it, maybe that’s your first date because he picks you up from your dorm & bc you guys live in a fairly walkable city, you commute to the thrift and you’re SO giddy because the backs of your hands keep brushing every time some impatient pedestrian pushes by you guys on the narrow sidewalks.

you guys end up spending HOURS and teyam’s internally screaming because you find a shirt that has a peeling heart with the phrase ‘if lost return to wife’ and he happens upon the match to it a couple aisles down that says ‘i'm the wife’.

when you’re not looking, teyam buys the shirts and stuffs them in his canvas bag.

DUDE IS WHIPPED.

he wants you SO bad.

after the thrift, you guys get pizza, and after that, ice cream, and JESUS he doesn’t want the day to end because being with you is so easy.

over the course of the rest of the semester, the two of you make it a routine to hang out at least once a week and you’re always looking forward to it.

dates excursions include; trips to the museum to see recent exhibits, weekly pizza parlor dinners, study sessions at the 24 hr cafe a block from the school (in which he always walks you home after), park days where he reads books on environmental sustainability and you secretly draw portraits of him.

in these times, he learns that you want to become an art teacher, your favorite cereal is froot loops with the marshmallows, your all time show is amazing world of gumball.

almost cries laughing when he finds out that you have a secret pet turtle you hide in your dorm named franklin.

acknowledges that he’s falling, but falls even harder when the florist who owns the flower shop you two always pass hands you the prettiest little bundle of flowers and you spend the entire trek to the park, handing out individual stems to couples, children, and the elderly, telling them to have a beautiful day.

it all comes to a head near the end of the semester when he realizes that he can’t keep dancing around his feelings for you and the feelings he’s almost certain you have for him.

tells you to clear your schedule for the upcoming friday night and dresses a little nicer than usual when he picks you up.

brings you two to the planetarium in the city and, instead of watching the exhibit, he spends the entire time watching how you light up.

he knows in his gut that you could be it for him.

he’s loved getting to know you and spending so much time with you.

he’s so immersed in this feeling throughout the entire night.

probably wipes his sweaty palms over the thighs of his pants before shakily taking your hand as the diagram of the constellations shift.

can’t help but smile when your fingers squeeze his and you seem to shift closer to him as the narrator starts the presentation.

and he’s especially quiet after the exhibit, fingers still twined with yours as the two of you walk down the bustling sidewalks of the city center.

two of you probably stop by a dessert cafe and sit outside on a bench in the spring air, enjoying the buskers as you share a little cake.

you’re talking about home and how you’re excited to see your family again and he can’t help but imagine bringing you home to meet all his siblings and his parents because he knows that they’d absolutely love you and—

you’ve paused your speaking, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth and he’s SHORT CIRCUITING.

“shit, that was weird i’m so—”

his palm cups your jaw, thumb on your cheek, pad of his pinky and ring finger soft against your neck.

“can i?” he whispers.

TRIANGLE METHOD !!

he glances at one eye, gaze dropping to your lips before glancing at the other.

you already know what he’s referring to, could feel the romantic tension between the two of you since the beginning, but only become sure of it in the recent weeks.

”can you what?” you swallow.

he breathes a short laugh because the knowing smile that quirks your lips is a dead give away.

“can i kiss you?” he asks softly, absently setting your abandoned dessert somewhere behind him on the bench.

“yeah,” you’d nod, leaning into him. “please.”

before the two of you go your separate ways for summer holiday, he shows you the shirts he bought at the thrift store the first time around, but insists on keeping the shirt that says ‘i'm the wife’.

neng © 2023

[wisteria-cherry]

in which you meet remus lupin

(marauders drabble)

(sirius x reader if u squint)

(wanted to try it out)

“sorry, um, do you have a partner?” you ask the wizard next to you awkwardly. he totally disregarded you, instead going over to another wizard who promptly punched him in the shoulder in a playful sort of greeting. you sigh. wonderful.

you were in a predicament. it was your first class of the year— history of magic— and professor binns had gratefully allowed partners for your newest research paper. normally, you would’ve partnered with your best friend, but she moved away over the summer and now attended beauxbatons in france. you didn’t have any other friends. you’d never felt the need to make any other friends. but now you were stuck.

you watched, growing increasingly embarrassed by the second, as the each member of your new class found their premeditated partner. you could’ve sworn there was an even number of students, but alas, you were the odd one out.

“pads, come on, it’s for one period. you’ll live.” you turned your attention to the door. everyone did, actually. a tall boy with honey blond hair was entering the room and a slightly shorter (but still quite tall) boy was following dramatically.

“moony, you can’t possibly be okay with this! they separated us, how could they?!” the slightly shorter boy, whose hair was a pretty raven color, whined. the blond looked very tired, and very done with the raven-haired boy’s antics.

“there’s nothing we can do about it now, padfoot.” you squinted. you’ve heard those names before.

those must be the marauders. the famous/infamous foursome of gryffindor boys who were known for two things: 1) playing epic pranks and 2) getting in trouble for playing epic pranks.

“surely there is!” padfoot— sirius black was his real name— insisted.

“padfoot, you’ve got a class right about now, don’t you?” moony— remus lupin— sighed.

“well, yes, but—“

“then go to it.”

“moony, you can’t be serious—“

“you’re right, i’m pretty sure you’re sirius.” remus replied absentmindedly as he looked around the room for an open seat.

“that was so not necessary!” sirius groaned.

“then go to class.”

“ugh, fine!” sirius made a big, dramatic show of leaving the room, declaring his final farewells. “tell my mother i hate her!”

“i’m sorry about that.” remus approached professor binns, handing him what was most likely a tardy pass. “what’d i miss?” professor binns explained the assignment out of your earshot. then they both looked to you and you instantly looked away, caught red-handed (and now red-cheeked). another minute of talking and suddenly he was coming towards you.

“er… professor binns said you need a partner?” remus greeted awkwardly. “i’m remus.”

“yes, that’s right,” you answered hesitantly, maybe somewhat stiffly, as remus clearly spared no expense in calling you out. “i’m (y/n). are you my partner?”

“if that’s alright with you.” remus answered.

“okay. let’s just get started, shall we?” you sit down, pulling the chair next to you out for remus.

“thank you,” remus said, clearly relieved as he sat down and you explained the assignment.

the two of you begin to work, and you were pleasantly surprised by how well you worked together. remus did his fair share of the work, and offered appropriate constructive feedback when you asked, not unprecedented. he’d ask for feedback as well, although you found that remus was doing the project really quite well, so there wasn’t any need for any.

“so… what was that earlier?” you ask, deciding that it small talk was alright at the pace you two were going.

“oh, pads.” remus rolled his eyes somewhat playfully. “sirius, i mean. he’s just very upset that all four of us are separated for an entire period.”

“you mean the marauders,” you clarify.

“yes, the marauders.” remus confirmed. “but that’s all it is. he’s just very dramatic about it is all.”

“i see that.” you crack a smile. the loud, booming bell then rang, marking the end of the class. you and remus both close your books.

“well, i’ll see you, then,” remus stood up.

“right, see you.” you smile. “i’ll probably be in the library working during lunch.”

“oh, i’ll come with you, then.” remus offered.

“are you sure?”

“of course.” he confirmed, giving you a small smile of his own. “i’ll just have to tell the others where i’ll be, i’ll meet you there, yeah?”

“sounds good.” you put your belongings in your bag before waving and heading out.

remus arrived at the library as promised, but so did the other three marauders.

“i’m sorry, i thought…” you trailed off, completely and utterly baffled.

“alright if they stay?” remus asked apologetically. “they’re very clingy, see, and they didn’t like being away for an entire class period. they won’t be much trouble.”

“i… don’t see why not.” you reply, dumbfounded as sirius and james started to shuffle through your notes, with peter going on tiptoe to look over their shoulder.

“very smart stuff.” sirius black said solemnly before turning to you. “so, you’re our dear moony’s partner?

“i— i suppose i am.” you stutter, not expecting him to actually talk to you.

sirius black, the school heartthrob. shiny raven hair that brushed just past his shoulders and framed his face nicely. a face that had sharp but not too angular features— jawline, cheekbones. stormy grey eyes that weren’t quite cloudy but weren’t quite piercing either. he was pretty, and he knew it, always flirting with any girl that would put up with him (they either adored him or hated him) and always having one by his side, that is, when he wasn’t with the other marauders.

“take care of our poor little moony, won’t you.” james potter grinned at you.

james potter, the closest the marauders had to a leader. always at the front. always laughing the loudest. always doing the brunt of the work in their pranks. he was also infamous for his crush on lily evans, who was, to his credit, very beautiful. he was the very definition of gryffindor— brave, loyal, and quite possibly very reckless.

“i’m sorry.” remus apologized again.

“it’s okay. let’s just get started.” you smile encouragingly as remus sits down. you didn’t so much as touch your quill to the parchment when they spoke again.

“hey, you’re cute,” sirius piped up. “fancy a date?”

“erm, no thanks.” you blinked, glancing at sirius confusedly before returning to your work.

“are you sure? promise i’ll make it worth your while.” sirius grinned.

“leave her be, padsy, she’s got smarter things to do.” james punched sirius’ shoulder as he snickered. “just because you haven’t got a brain doesn’t mean you should prevent others from using theirs.”

“i have too got a brain!” sirius insisted, ruffling james’ hair. “i’m smarter than you are, my homework shows it!”

“oi, not the hair!” james protested, trying in vain to slap sirius’ hands away.

“oh, it’s always messy anyway, you oaf.” sirius laughed as you tried desperately to focus on your work. by some miracle, remus was laser focused.

“how are you focusing?” you whispered to remus desperately.

“years of practice.”

“hey, what’re you two up to, anyway?” sirius suddenly came out of nowhere and pulled out the chair next to you, plopping himself down and scooting his chair closer to your hunched over self.

“pardon?” startled, you turned to face sirius.

“lemme see.” sirius repeated. his face was very close to yours, but he didn’t seem to mind. on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it, whereas you were wide-eyed and sure that your cheeks were pink. “you’re blushing, love. sure you don’t want that date?”

“it’s not my fault you’re so close!” you blurt out.

“‘course it’s not.” sirius grinned a lopsided sort of grin that was rather cute. “that doesn’t stop the fact that you’re the one blushing.”

“i am not.” you quickly turn back to your studies.

“padfoot, you said you wouldn’t distract us.” remus glanced at sirius disapprovingly.

“wrong.” sirius corrected. “you said not to distract you. i said no promises. but, being the terrific friend i am, i didn’t distract you.”

“look at what you’re doing, pads.” remus frowned as james and peter snickered madly.

“distracting her. not you.” sirius replied smugly. “i’ll distract her any day.”

[coalswriting]

in the wilderness with you (part i) - shauna shipman

part ii

summary – shauna and (y/n) have a clumsy beginning. (approx. 1.8k words)

a/n – sorry this took so long to get out :’)) i had major burnout, and honestly i still do, but i’m hoping it’ll get better as i start the next chapter since this was mostly a scene setting chapter!! this is gonna have three parts so i hope y’all stick around for all of them!! peace!!

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you had always watched shauna from afar. you were a shy person - you could never get yourself to talk to her. she always seemed to be around jackie, and you personally found jackie to be quite bitchy, so you were always too hesitant to approach.

shauna was brilliant at soccer, smart, beautiful, admirable. you noticed all sorts of things about her; how her eyebrows scrunched when she would be solving a difficult question in physics, the way she sometimes put the cap of her pen in between her lips, how she frowned whenever jackie would mention jeff, and how she always walked a little bit behind her. it’s like jackie was more important than shauna, but to you, shauna shone brighter out of the two. she was like a forest fire; beautiful, destructive, and impossible to avoid. her presence was prominent in your life, but not as a friend. you admired shauna, and you wanted to feel her arms around you – her lips on you, but you knew that simply wasn’t a possibility. after all, you were just you, and she was leagues ahead of that.

as a person, you were very straight to the cut. you went to class, went to soccer practice, and went home every day. sometimes you would hang out with taissa; she was your only friend in soccer, but generally, you kept to yourself until the day that she dragged you to that party.

“c’mon, (y/n), you have to go!”, taissa urged, hand on your arm as you dug through your bag for your hairbrush. you turned to look at your friend, a peeved look on your face.

“you know i’m not a party person, and besides, i want to get a good rest before the flight.”

taissa groaned, ignoring your reasoning, “it’s team bonding!! c’monn! it’ll be worth it.”

“fine”, you sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t let up easily.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

your hands trembled as you walked through jackie’s front door. music was blaring from another room, but it was loud enough to where taissa had to raise her voice to talk to you. you followed her to the kitchen that she had been in many times and watched as she poured some of jackie’s father’s expensive tequila into a shot glass. handing it to you, it didn’t take you long to gain the willpower to take the shot – you knew you wouldn’t be able to socialise without some alcohol in your system. it was salty yet smooth, and you were pleasantly surprised when you didn’t feel a bite. before you knew it, you were through five more of them, and heavily intoxicated.

“tai?”, you called, a cup of water in your hand, as you pushed through the crowds of students. she had left about five minutes prior to go to the bathroom and hadn’t returned yet. you couldn’t find her anywhere. you grumbled as you bumped into somebody, spilling a bit of the water on yourself.

“oh sorry!”

your (e/c) orbs met autumny ones.

“oh, hey (y/n),” jackie, the captain of your soccer team had said, “you look a little frazzled. are you alright?”

you nodded silently with a smile before noticing a familiar pair of innocent chocolate coloured doe eyes next to jackie. shauna. your palms felt sweaty as you simply stared at the beautiful brunette, a blush forming on your cheeks. you hoped that the dull lighting of the room would hide it, but shauna looked at you with a raised eyebrow. she knew. suddenly sobering up a little, you tore your eyes away from the breathtaking girl, meeting jackie’s gaze once again. “actually, uh, i’m looking for taissa.”

“oh,” jackie said with a thin-lipped grin, turning to smirk at shauna, then back to you, “uh, she actually went upstairs with van. it’s best to leave them alone, you know how it is…”

you stared, confused, not connecting one and the other, before shauna grabbed one of your arms, “here, why don’t you stay with us?” she asked with a cool confidence. you jumped at her contact, and for a moment, you swore that she smirked at you.  

after spending a bit of time with jackie and shauna, you had discovered that you were immersed in shauna. she was so, unbelievably alluring  when you saw her at school, but as she was now – in her tight red dress and denim jacket – she was so much more. every word that she spoke was like music to your ears and you were addicted to her presence. you hit it off immediately. you laughed at a sarcastic comment she had made, giving her a gentle shove with your arm. shauna chuckled, wiping her eye before looking at the campfire. “i’m going to grab a drink. do the both of you want something?”

“oohhh, can you get me a drink too?” you asked as jackie just shook her head no towards shauna with a smile.

once shauna left to get your drinks, jackie looped an arm around your shoulders, bringing your face closer to hers. she brought her mouth to the side of your face, whispering hot air into your ear, “do you like shauna?”

you froze up as you felt your blood run cold. it was as if everything in the room moved in slow motion, other than jackie and you. she pulled away, noticing your shock and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “(y/n), are you okay?”

“uh, i..”

“it’s okay if you do,” she finally said, after a small moment, “she likes you too. wait, shoot!! i wasn’t supposed to tell you that!”

the both of you looked into each other’s eyes before bursting out into drunken laughter. jackie wasn’t as bad as you thought she was. eventually, shauna returned, and jackie excused herself, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively. your cheeks grew red as shauna gazed at you; confusion etched on her face.

“what was that?”, she said, a tinge of jealousy in her voice as she handed you your drink.

“oh, nothing, we just had a heart to heart…” you took a sip of your drink, cringing after you swallowed, “damn, is half of this vodka?!”

sauna’s lips contorted from a tight straight line into an amused grin as she looped a hand around your arm, almost possessively, “yeah, it’s more fun that way, don’t you think? lets go for a walk.”

the two of you began talking as you strayed further from the party, and you watched as the moonlight reflected off shauna’s nose. it illuminated her already captivating eyes, making you lose yourself in them.

the conversation, which was about the book shauna was writing, began to become dominated by the graceful brunette as you listened, an essence of want in your eyes. after a few minutes, things grew tense.

“so, yeah, i plan to have the final chapters written before we graduate and then i’ve a publisher hired already… (y/n), what’s wrong?” shauna’s voice trailed off as she caught your intense look. for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other until she rose a hand to twirl some of your hair around your finger.

“you’re stunning, shauna,” you murmured, alcohol hazing the part of your brain responsible for rational thinking (sober you would be ringing every single alarm bell by now).

“oh, yeah?” she smirked, lifting your chin with her hand, “you’re not too bad yourself.”  

you felt a familiar static in the back of your head as your heart began hammering in your chest; it was a storm compared to the serene calmness of the warm night. you swore that you would faint if this continued much longer, so on a whim, you burst out, “can i kiss you? i mean it’s okay if no-“

before you could finish your sentence, shauna crashed her lips onto yours. she kissed with a hunger; like she was an animal starved of food. you were her sustenance, and her hands roamed your body, as if she desired to learn everything about you. you moaned into her lips before she pulled away, a darkness in her eyes.

“let’s get out of here, (l/n).”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you stirred in your sleep, as if you were trying to climb out of a deep hole. you struggled and pulled against the metaphorical walls of your slumber, a loud ringing in your ears. then, your bleary eyes fluttered open. an alarm clock next to you rang violently and you heard a rough growl behind you. an arm tightened around your stomach as another reached to turn off the alarm.  

suddenly, you felt much more awake, unaware of your surroundings, and it seemed like the person behind you woke up too from the realisation that they were not alone. swiftly turning around, you met the shocked eyes of none other than shauna shipman, the girl you had kissed at the party yesterday.

she didn’t seem impressed as she just stared at you. then, coldly, she sat up and walked into the ensuite bathroom in the corner of her room. you heard the shower turn on soon after, and you began to get dressed, cautiously and shakily. your head felt like a torpedo, pulsating in pain and shame. of course, shauna would regret it. you sighed, the back of your throat burning in pain, but you bit back tears.

you didn’t talk on the drive to the airport, and you didn’t talk as you queued up with the other girls, listening to coach scott as he explained the plan for the day. jackie looked questionably at you, then she reached towards shauna to whisper something in her ear. shauna glared at her with a bitter expression, then glanced at you for a moment. your head whirred in thoughts as you began to spiral. had you done something when you were drunk? you didn’t really remember the night. you must’ve fucked up and now it was awkward. shauna hated you, and now jackie would hate you too.

as you hesitantly and wordlessly sat next to taissa on the plane, your eyes wandered to search for shauna. you couldn’t stop thinking about her. she just rested her head atop her hand and looked out the window, walkman blaring music in her ears. your eyes dropped, darting down to your knees.

“you seem down, what’s wrong, (y/n)?” taissa asked, worry evident in every syllable as she placed a hand on your own.

you just shook your tired head, eventually resting it on her shoulder. taissa sighed, looping an arm around your back, pulling you closer.

eventually, you fell asleep, memories of shauna present in your mind.

[emiefluff]

•┈••✦ What We Love About You!✦••┈•

┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓

Fandom- Project Sekai / HATSUNE MIKU: COLORFUL STAGE!

Characters- Rui Kamishiro, Tsukasa Tenma, Emu Otori, Lee!Nene Kusanagi

Ships- Polysho

Summary- Nene comes to the Wonderland SEKAI upset, prompting her beloved partners to attempt a "cheer up operation"

A/N- Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I decided to collaborate with Py (@pink-tk-a-latte) On this little silly goofy fic! I think this actually took us like 5 days LMAO | But it was worth it!!!!111 (it's partially proofread by me and py so)

Tags- @ziniszombie @pink-tk-a-latte @justaposibblytransgirl @nekoma-not-lee

Fic Under The Cut!

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

It was Valentine's Day, a day of love, appreciation, and happiness. Everyone at Kamiyama High School in Class 2-A was tasked with writing a letter to who they loved and appreciated the most, and what they loved or liked about them.

As they were promptly shared with the class, everybody was waiting patiently for their name to be said by the other students. This also included Nene, who had been waiting the entire class to hear her name. Despite her kindness towards the other students, her name was not called by anybody.

Nene listened to the pleasantly embarrassed laughs and appreciative coos from the recipients. They hid their faces in their hands, smiled wobbly smiles, and put their hands on their hearts with tearful faces.

Nene awaited her turn for the burst of surprise, giddiness, gratitude at hearing her name from someone else’s mouth. It never came.

Maybe she shouldn’t have expected anything. She was kind, sure, but she was no one’s best friend. She shouldn’t mind. She understood. Maybe she didn’t want that extra attention anyway.

Still, in her lonely desk in the corner, Nene felt her heart sag.

After the bell rang to mark the end of class, Nene was nowhere to be seen. She had run out of school at the end of the day, not caring who saw her as she waited until the right moment alone to enter the Wonderland SEKAI.

Miku and KAITO, who had been working together on a show idea for Tsukasa and the others, noticed Nene enter. Something, however, was off about the grayish-green haired girl. The two vocaloids realized that Nene wasn't feeling her best, but before they could ask about it, she'd run off to hide.

Nene didn’t know how long she’d spent curled up backstage of the theatre, before she heard a bright and bubbly but concerned voice through the curtain.

“Nene-chan? Nene-chan, please come out!”

Slowly, she peeled her head from the wall.

“NENE! WHERE ARE YOU HIDING!”

Ah, and that earth-quaking volume…

“Perhaps she’s behind the stage?”

And the most familiar voice of all.

Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Nene called pitifully, “I’m here…”

Her sore eyes beheld a ball of pink bouncing into the lightless hollow. She gasped and was at Nene’s side in a flash.

“Nene! What’s wrong? My sadness senses were tingling, and then Miku went ‘Brrrrrrrllllll— brrrrrrrlllll—’ which meant someone was lost in Sekai!!” Emu threw herself around Nene, who could only hiccup in protest.

Nene felt so bad about burdening the others with her bad mood, but nothing could really come out. Finally, in tears, she'd speak in a quavering tone, her voice breaking and cracking. "S-Sorry....I-I'm sorry...I-I didn't mean to w-worry anybody...I-I just..."

"Nene-chan..." Emu held her tightly, rubbing her weeping partner's back gently as she let Nene express her current emotions to the three of them. Nene would sniffle, squeezing her eyes shut when she felt Rui gently stroke her hair with his fingers.

“Nene,” Rui called lowly, voice soothing and gentle as milk. At that one word, a dam broke within Nene’s chest.

Sobbing, Nene buried her face in Emu’s pink sweater. “It’s really not that big of a deal. I-I think… I’m just being dramatic.”

“Nonsense!” Tsukasa, who had been quietly panicking as soon as he saw her crying, nestled into her other side. His star-like warmth was like a plush, constellation-patterned blanket. “You’re never dramatic! Even I would be upset if no one thought of writing for me.”

“You can be honest with us, Nene.” Rui pulled his fingers through her hair again, a massaging tug on her scalp. Emu rubbed her cheek against her head.

Nene let Tsukasa pull her legs into his lap. “Maybe there’s just nothing to say about me… Nothing to-” Nene swallowed. She didn’t want to voice her thoughts, but she’d promised to be honest. “Nothing to love…”

Nene buried her face into Emu's shoulder once more out of shame, scared of what her partners would think. To her surprise, however, they showed her nothing but absolute kindness, Emu leaning her head slightly to kiss Nene's cheeks, Tsukasa rubbing her back, and Rui knelt down to hold her hand and massage her shoulders.

"Nene, you don't have to deal with this alone, y'know that, right?" Rui would ask softly, his fingertips gently tapping and drumming on her shoulders. "Yeah, Nene-chan! You know that whoever said that there wasn't anything to love or write about you is wrong, right? They're just jealous of you!" Emu pouted softly as she planted many tiny kisses all over Nene's forehead, nose, and cheeks.

Nene would reluctantly nod to their questions, still feeling down in the dumps about today. She didn't know what to do in order to feel better, so she'd just listen to her partners soothe her hurting pains, and comfort her.

Rui hummed, sensing that Nene still didn’t quite believe them. “There’s plenty of things to love about you, that we love about you.” Rui leaned over to nuzzle into her cheek.

His feather-like breaths and kisses pushed Nene to squirm away and giggle. As she shoved at Rui’s head, he chuckled.

“For example, your cute little laugh.” Rui grinned like a cat. “And your peculiarly ticklish cheeks.”

“Ruhuhuhihi!” Nene whined, finding refuge in Emu’s shoulder. “Stahahap, you meheheanie!”

“I didn’t know your cheeks were ticklish!” Emu’s eyes sparkled in a truly terrifying way. “I’m gonna getcha~! Let’s see that smile we love-love-love so much!”

Emu peppered noisy smooches all over Nene’s skin, even blowing a small raspberry on her blushing cheeks. Nene squealed and ducked away. “AhaEHEmuhuhu!”

“Oho? You didn’t know, Emu?” Rui raised an amused brow. “It’s her deepest, darkest secret. Oops!”

“RuihiHIHIhiiii! You traHAhaitor!” Nene managed to land a considerable slap on Rui’s face, and he gasped in offense.

Rui sniffled performatively. “Nene! My dearest friend, how could you?”

“Ah! I see my inventive partners have come up with an answer to our sad Nene plight.” announced Tsukasa, who noticed the drying tears on Nene’s well-kissed cheeks. “Look at that radiant smile! A wonderful muse!”

"Nohohohoo i-it's nohohohohohot!" Nene giggled nervously, covering her face in embarrassment as she tried to move away from her partners. This caused Emu to persist and continue her tickly antics, her fingers gently stroking Nene's cheek in a tingly way.

"Awwweeee~ Nene-chan is so cuteee, it's so wonderhoy~!" Emu exclaimed happily, continuing to stroke Nene's cheeks. The grayish-green haired girl would finally manage to turn away completely, hiding her face with her hands.

“Well, we can’t allow that!” Tsukasa took advantage of Nene’s legs in his lap and skittered his nails over her knees. Nene shrieked and jumped but couldn’t escape his hold. Cheering, Emu bound Nene in a hug and squeezed her like a balloon.

“EHEHEMUhuhu! I caHAHA- TsuKAHASA!”

“You’re so fluffy-fluffy toasty-toasty, Neneeee, I just wanna squeesh you forever!” With exuberance, Emu kneaded Nene’s sides, watching her squirm back and forth and try to kick her legs.

“LEHEhehet mehehe goho! You dAHAdohorks!”

Rui muffled a snicker and teased at the back of Nene’s neck; now she was twisting every which way like a faulty folding chair.

Rui simpered. “Go for her iliac crest!”

“Her what?”

"What's an eye-lii-ack crest?" Mused Emu, who was very curious to know what Rui was talking about. Nene knew exactly where this was going as she flailed her arms about in protest. She'd have no choice but to squeak and hiccup as she spoke through giggle-induced words.

"Nohoho-No! R-Ruhuhuhuhuii! D-Don't tehehell thehehehemmm!"

Tsukasa and Emu couldn't help but wonder what was about to happen, both of them listening intently to Rui. They'd wait for an explanation, curious what has Nene giggling so nervously.

Rui shrugged and decided that showing was better than telling. Slowly, his hands descended, curling into claws, as Nene hugged her knees as close as she could to her chest in defense.

“Dohon’t- Rui! D-Don’t! NohoHOHAHA!”

Rui’s thumbs massaged the top of Nene’s hip. She exploded from her ball and grabbed onto the nearest thing — Tsukasa — to stabilize herself against the ticklish shocks traversing her nerves.

“You remembered what it was, Nene! Such a clever pupil. Isn’t she amazing?” Rui sounded tearfully proud. Desperately, Nene shook her head.

“YOUHUHAHAHA nahaHEHERD! RuhuhuHIHIHI!”

With Rui gently but cruelly digging into one of her worst spots, Tsukasa boldly drawing on and under her knees, and Emu pinching sporadically around her middle, Nene’s face began to ache from how wide she was laughing. Her stomach pretzeled, warm from the giddiness of love and fluster.

"Guysss! We should go over more things we love about Nene-chan! I'll start! I love how red your cheeks and nose get! I love how you hide your cute little smile~! Who's next!

"I also love how softspoken you are when you tease, it's so unexpected to me, but I love those moments nonetheless." Tsukasa would chirp in, gently squeezing her calves every now and then. "And as for me, I love it when you giggle so hard that your nose scrunches up and you end up snorting, and I especially love how cute and tiny your dimples are. Such an adorable sight, is it not~?"

"NohoHOHOHOAhahaha! N-NOHOHOHOhohohot adohohoHOHOHOHORAblehehehehe! IHIHIHIhihit tihihiHIHIHI- NAHAhahahahahahaha!" Nene couldn't finish her words out of embarrassment. She hated saying that she was ticklish. But, unfortunately for her, Rui caught onto this, and teased lovingly out loud to catch Nene off guard.

"Oh? It what, Nene? What are you trying to say? What t-word are you referring to?"

Nene completely combusted, trying to prevent this from happening. "NOHOHOHohohoho! D-DohohohoHOHOHON'T YOHOHOHOUHUhuhuhu dahahaHEHEHEHEARE STAHAhahahart thihihihis!"

"Are you saying touchy~? Or teasy~? Or even tastyyyy~?" Rui grinned widely, knowing exactly what his ass was doing. He was trying to trick Nene, and it was clear that Emu and Tsukasa were both in on this.

"DUHUHUhuhumbahahAHAHAHASS! IHIHIHIhihit tihihiHIHIHIHICKLES!"

Nene immediately tried to cover her mouth, realizing what she had gotten herself into. "W-WahahahaHAHAIHIHIHIT NOHOHOhohoho! DohohoHOHOAHAHAHAN'T!"

“Ticklish, you say~?” Rui’s grin was chilling. “Is that so? Well well well… isn’t that just prrrrecious?”

Suddenly, all the tickling stopped. Nene could only feel the phantom tingles of what had just passed and the force of her lungs heaving in air. But she couldn’t trust it. She knew what was about to happen.

Sweet breath fluttered over her ear. “Aww, you should have told us, Nene~,” Emu whispered. Nene muffled a squeak. Rarely was Emu a menacing presence, but this time, Nene’s heart only pounded in dread.

A finger brushed a slick strand of hair behind her other ear. Nene shivered. “She seems nervous. Isn’t the suspense just killing you?” She never thought she’d fear Tsukasa’s quiet voice.

Someone else was pulling her in. Something warm teased at her neck.

“Doho- don’t. Guys! Plehease! Nonono—“

Shrilling in ticklish laughter, Nene wriggled about to try and get away as Rui planted tickly kisses all over her neck. Giggling along, Emu would scribble her nimble fingers under Nene's armpits as the light tickles got to the poor girl.

All Nene could get out was an "EhehehEHEHEEK! NOHOHOHohohoho!" as she squirmed and flailed about. She was so ticklish, but would never admit to it.

Nene squealed, thrashed, blushed, cried for mercy, and slapped aggressively at Rui’s shoulder and elbowed Emu as best she could.

“WaHAhaHAHAIT NAhaHAT ThEEEEREheHAHA! NoooohOOOOO!”

The sounds of Rui’s lips trembled up to her ear in waves and she crushed Emu’s fingers beneath her upper arm. Tears washed over her eyes and her laughter became so screechy that even Tsukasa was concerned.

He rested his chin and a kiss on Emu’s shoulder and pinched Rui’s cheek. Both of them received the memo and slowed their attack. Rui smoothed the sides of Nene’s shirt. Emu fixed her hair and moved aside to let Nene fall into Tsukasa’s lap. Nene hiccuped on a breath and covered her face, giggles interspersed.

“I’m sorry… to get so sappy on you guys,” Nene slurred.

Smiling, Rui purred, “Nene, we love you when you’re happy. We love you when you’re sad too.” He coaxed her hands away to reveal her pink nose and pursed lips.

Tsukasa cupped her face with a grin that was difficult to take seriously, but cute. “Yes! Your crying face is charming!”

“But when you smile, you’re even more charming! Cuz we know you’re happy.” Emu’s chipper face popped in from the side of her vision.

“Forget it. You guys are sappier than the ending theme of a video game.” And together, they laughed.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

A face hidden in her hands, a tearful face, a burst of surprise, giddiness, gratitude.

But mostly embarrassment.

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - seventy-two | she’s a me

You walked into the studio.

“Sorry I’m late. My bus had a thing, and I had to wait for another one, and then there was traffic… What are you two doing?”

Hongjoong and Maddox were surrounded on all sides of the desk by papers.

“We got song submissions and we’re getting ready to listen. Put your stuff down.” Hongjoong said as he got the first cd ready.

You did as he said and pulled out a notebook, maybe you’d have something to make notes about.  Hongjoong put the cd in the computer and pressed Start.

“My name is Yujin. I’m sixteen. Um---”

She sounded so young. Hongjoong frowned and looked at the pile CDs. 

“How’d this get in here?” He asked as he flipped over the case it was in and looked at the back.

“What?” You asked.

“This is supposed to be song submissions from the producers we normally work with. This is from a bunch of kids in a band.”

“Maybe it was an accident?” Maddox offered.

Hongjoong shut it off.

“Wait--” You said.

He turned to you.

“Can we listen to it at least?”

He nodded and started it again.

“My name is Yujin. I’m sixteen. Um… I play bass… okay.” She laughed awkwardly. “Okay, I mean… I just started. But I’ve been practicing really hard and I’ve written a few songs with some friends of mine, and… if Wonderland is looking for a group of teenagers who want to speak their minds and make the world a better place through music… look no further. Are you ready guys?”

“Yeah!” Three other voices joined her.

“One! Two! One, two, three, four!” 

The drummer counted and they all started playing… reasonably well. It wasn’t stellar, you wouldn’t even call it great, but for a bunch of teenagers who hadn’t been playing that long, it was better than okay. The fact that they submitted an original song was what really wowed you; they seemed to understand how to structure a song already and the lyrics weren’t half bad. At the very least they weren’t hackneyed or cliché.

“What is this?” You asked.

“Let me check if they sent any notes or anything…” Hongjoong sorted through the papers on the desk as he looked for it. Maddox also looked and eventually found them, handing them to Hongjoong.

“It says… they’re a band of four called ONIIX? Two boys and two girls.” He read the notes for a moment before handing it to you. “Holy shit, read what she wrote.”

There was a huge paragraph about their concept: how the members were aliens and looking for galactic peace, but that they had been stranded on earth and there was something they had to fight which - really - was just a thinly veiled metaphor for capitalism.

You chuckled.“I get the distinct feeling one of them had to read Ayn Rand during English class at some point and hated it.”

“Why?”

You smiled. “Because who actually likes Ayn Rand?”

He tilted his head in agreement. “You’re not wrong.”

“I’m very right.” 

He chuckled.

You went back to reading the notes. You were pleasantly surprised at how creative someone as young as these kids could be. How creative any kid could be if they were allowed. Something in you was almost jealous; you wished you had the opportunity to make your own decisions about the world at their age. All you had really got as far at that time was, ‘Everything sucks and nothing matters’ but that was just because you were being ground down under your mother’s boot and were under parental house arrest for almost half a year until graduation. Even after that, you had a hard start to your adulthood because all you had was the money in your pocket, a suitcase half-filled with clothes, and your bass. You definitely empathized with their hatred of capitalism because of that.

And who wouldn’t want to make the world a better place?

“They listed a bunch of influences, look at the American bands they picked.” You handed it back to him.

He read: “Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, Rage Against the Machine…”

“Oh, you like them,” Maddox pointed out.

He nodded. “The Cramps, Nirvana, Lunachicks, L7, Bikini Kill…”

“Quite the punk rock appetite.” You said.

He nodded.

“What they’ve submitted doesn’t sound explicitly punk though.”

He nodded again. “Much more rock, but not particularly indie or pop.”

You nodded. “I wonder if that’s a stylistic choice or just their lack of ability.”

He nodded as he looked at you.

You didn’t know what to do, so you nodded again.

Maddox laughed. “Are you two communicating?”

Hongjoong continued to look at you.

You looked at Maddox, who shrugged, and back to Hongjoong, who now had an eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“...Would you want to train a bassist?”

You laughed. He couldn’t be serious.

He continued to look at you passively. He was serious.

 “Would that mean a new job title as well?” You raised an eyebrow.

He smiled. “I think I can finagle another pay line.”

“Ha… You trying to make me indispensable or something?”

He smiled. “I think… if we have a bunch of ‘Fuck the System’ kids who want to make music because they love it… you should be the one to teach the one who plays the same instrument as you.”

“Oh… I’ve never taken classes. I don’t know if I could teach it.”

“I’ve never taken production classes and yet I’m teaching you music production.”

“...Oh.”

Hongjoong smiled.

You looked at all the papers all over the desk as you thought. Could you teach someone to play bass? You’d have to look up lessons online or something to see how other people did it. But also: ‘Should you teach someone?’ was maybe the better question.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Hongjoong said, your eyes snapping to him. “We have to listen to all of the song submissions anyway, but we’ll hold onto this on the side.”

You nodded as he put the CD and its paper in his drawer.

“I’ll ask you again in a week or so.”

You nodded again.

He nodded back at you.

Maddox looked between the two of you and narrowed his eyes. “Are you two sure you aren’t communicating?”

Both of you laughed. 

Hongjoong clapped his hands together. “Okay, let’s listen to the actual song submissions.”

*ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵐᵒⁿᵏˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶦᵈᵉʳ ᶦᵗ ᵗʰᵉ “ᵐᵉᵈᶦᵗᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ”

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[cath-lic]

Hallo! I was pleasantly surprised to open up your profile to find out you're both trans and catholic!! (This might be a long read)

I'm the same! But in recent years due to my transness/queerness + my criticisms of the church I've kind of distanced myself from the church. I still go to mass and receive communion and do what is expected of me (I'm in a very catholic family) but I do it with a hollow feeling in my heart.

Almost paradoxically though, I really like Jesus, I think he's a cool guy, I have unending respect for him + I take bible classes and I find it to be really fun and interesting, esp the gospels and I guess the new testament in general. Studying the characters, the setting and the meaning of the story is always so cool to me and I really really love it.

However, the environment i grew up in and the Catholics I grew up with gave me a really sour feeling and I feel a lot of spite because of the blatant hate they spew towards lgbtq people/ their hypocrisy at times (things like defending isr4el's actions vehemently even though they're contradicting themselves to their face when they preach about love and anti harm and stuff) umm I lost my sentence, basically I feel like lgbtq people would be the last thing Jesus would consider a problem and I'm just soo sick of hypocrisy among catholics and Christians that it's made me almost resentful but I'm not quite there yet

What I wanted to ask was, how are you keeping your faith despite all these things? Despite all the horrible actions people commit each day in the name of Jesus and Christianity (just look at, say, the treatment of trans people in the US, Project 2025, all that, book banning, just... Blatant misuse of the faith, I hope you know what I'm talking about). I feel like the more I hear about stuff like this, the less I want to associate myself with the church. I feel ashamed, I guess. I figure that I've lost myself in all this, but any advice? I'd love to hear your thoughts :)

this ended up being a long answer, so i'll put it under a cut!

hello my sibling, i know exactly how you feel. i was lucky enough to grow up in a non-hostile and fairly liberal environment, but for similar reasons, i am in the closet as well.

seeing the violence and vitriol that so many christians espouse on a daily basis is extremely upsetting to me. i absolutely despise the fact that christianity has become popularly associated with hatred. at the same time, i acknowledge that many christians have wielded our faith in such a way that they are absolutely deserving of that reputation.

what helps me is having catholic friends IRL and online that make me feel sane. building this type of community online honestly helped me in so many ways—i no longer feel like one of the few catholics in the usa that aren’t associated with the alt-right.

another thing that helped me was, ironically, finding a different church. though i am still catholic, i go to an episcopal church. it’s smaller and friendlier, and i felt much more welcomed there as well, and i feel comfortable knowing that these are people who share both my values and (most of) my religious beliefs.

i think i become more gung-ho about the faith when seeing the horrible things that people do in the name of christianity, actually. i tend to post more when i’m riled up about it, because i KNOW they’re wrong! so basically, when i’m feeling down, i turn to the source material. more often than not, they reaffirm my faith and reaffirm that god has sanctioned absolutely none of the shit that republicans are trying to pull.

i want people to know that being catholic does not mean being conservative, so i yell about it in my own space here. i don’t want to, you know, proselytize to people—so i make sure that this is a blog they can block. i would like to attend pride events and bring my own signs, and protect others from protestors at some point.

i’m sorry i don’t have a more succinct answer for you, my sibling. i can only assure you that you are not alone, and that so many of us trans catholics feel the exact same way. sending all my love to you ❤️❤️❤️

[lavalampstealer]

🤝 How would you describe the nature of Phoenix and their Handler’s working relationship? (Bonus: at what point/s do you think this dynamic shifts?)

WOOHOO!!

Phoenix and Handler’s dynamic has been one that’s been a bit.. I don’t know, almost confusing. To me, at least. I see all these different interpretations of the duo and it’s hard to not have them influence my own at times. I’m gonna have to go game-by-game with this one because their working relationship definitely did change over the course of the series. And keep in mind, this is going to have a lot of headcanons/interpretations squeezed in here- I am going to go as close to game accurate as I can, which means it’s WAY too many words to not go under a cut. Also spoilers, of course.

Game 1: Phoenix (or rather, the Agent at this point), is a fresh faced newbie who Handler doesn’t seem to have long-term high hopes for. The beginning of the turning point for him starts as early as the end of Deep Dive, I’d say. He really didn’t expect them to make it out of that one, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see them alive. He’s a little more personable with them during their next mission, Winter Break, and even more so in First Class. He sets up riddles and puzzles in their cabin for them, clearly having fun with it.

By the time of Seat of Power and Death Engine, he’s definitely warmed up to the Agent and isn’t just putting on the show of being enthusiastic- it’s genuine. He’s at least gotten a little attached by now.

So, game 1 summary: from “oh goodie, new agent! I don’t expect them to last long” to “Hey, they’re not bad! I think they might actually stick around a while. We can trust them with a larger assignment.” (That assignment being the Juniper case- had we gone through Stage Fright in game 1, I doubt that the Agent would have been allowed stayed on. Not enough experience + hasn’t proved themselves, it would have been reassigned to someone who had that.)

Game 2: In the beginning, the Agent might just be one of if not his favorite active agents. He shows genuine concern and worry for them after they get reconnected in Jet Set, and he shares/expresses his disappointment with Juniper with them. I mean, just think about it- the last time he was disconnected from them like that was during Death Engine which, assumedly, would have resulted in any other agent at their skill level being killed. Moving on, he’s panicked for them when the guard comes in Eaves Drop (there’s more to talk about with ED but I’ll get to it somewhere else). “When you get back, you should get that eye looked at.” By now, he has confidence in the Agent and knows that they’ll make it back after this mission- seems easy enough, just sneak into John Juniper’s booby-trapped chateau and make it out alive with the briefcase. Piece of cake. Here’s my favorite part- Safe and Sound. Now there’s shift in their dynamic, nothing new there, but this time we feel it on the Agent/player’s end. They hear Handler acting.. off, to say the least, and they only lose trust in him as they become more and more uneasy up until the Juniper reveal. When they do get back in touch with the real Handler, there is a trust that’s been lost. Maybe not in Handler himself, as he scrambles to prove that he is who he says he is, but in whoever happens to be on the other side of their comms. But wait, there’s more! We learn from Handler that he’s apparently been searching for them himself for hours- do I even need to say anything for this? And here comes Rising Phoenix. His plea for the Agent to not do it as he recognizes that they’re going to sacrifice themselves, his cry for them when they fall, his shellshocked debriefing as he has to accept that the Agent Phoenix isn’t coming back this time, that there wasn’t even a body to recover. GODDDD HE CARES. HE CARES SO MUCH, IT HURTS TO LISTEN TO THAT DEBRIEFING.

To add to all of this, he had been (mostly) nearby/in very close proximity to Phoenix this time around, which means that they most definitely saw each other in person at least once. Stage Fright? I mean, it’s possible that they arrived separately and didn’t see each other. Jet Set is a no. Eaves Drop? They absolutely saw each other, Handler was up on the roof when they went down and came back up! Party Crasher? Handler was the getaway driver (“Come back to the van” versus “Get back to the van”). Safe and Sound? More of the same, they were probably driven by him to whatever their next mode of transportation was to get to the island with the Peace Summit. He wasn’t there for Rising Phoenix, but I bet that he would’ve been if he could have. Maybe he could have changed things..

Game 3: Good LORDDDDD his reaction in the tutorial (SOBBING SHAKING CRYING he’s so relieved and dare I say GIDDY upon finding out that Phoenix is alive and relatively safe). Yeah he’s so attached by now, it’s insane. HE WAS READY AND WILLING TO DIVE INTO THE OCEAN TO SAVE PHOENIX. !!! I’d probably have to go back and replay ieytd3 in order to spot more instances like this but tragically, I have not found a good chance to since this was asked + I don’t want to keep this sitting in my drafts for any longer than I already have (sorry asker😓). I was more focused on Roxana’s development than Handler’s when I did go through it, to be honest. He is very open and chatty by the end of this, though, he even tells us a story about his personal life! Even if we didn’t really get to hear about his thing with chickens.. sorry Handler.

I’m running out of steam writing this, but I like to say that this development applies to Cyan and Yellow as well, as even if I want to put my own spin on things with my Phoenix interpretation and such, I also like to have them be relatively on-brand. I don’t think it’d be fit for me to describe their dynamic in any other way than Agent and Handler, whether that be applied to how they were in Squeaky Clean or in Hot Water. It just Is, you know?

Hope you enjoyed the word wall!

[scribespirare]

if you still do requests for House… something Hilson with Wilson’s possessive streak popping up, maybe in public?

oh man i haven't done hilson in a while thank u for requesting them!! hopefully im not too rusty w/ them

“Do you know every waitress in the city?”

House glances up from the menu in front of him, and then back at the retreating figure of their waitress. Sarah, apparently, though he’s always known her as Caramel. She looks a lot different with so much clothing on and no heels.

“Only the ones who moonlight as strippers,” House replies. The look Wilson gives him is unamused at best and House raises an eyebrow at him. “What, it’s not my fault we happen to pick restaurants where my favorites work.”

Turning back to his menu, House ignores Wilson’s stony silence. Honestly, the man gets his panties in such a twist sometimes and not even for a good reason. Caramel barely even recognized him; House is sure he looks a lot different too when not cast in low lighting and considerably drunk. And just because two other waitresses have recognized him in the past month, and he them, doesn’t mean anything.

Caramel, sorry Sarah, comes back a few minutes later for their orders. Wilson’s is clipped and terse, about as rude as he ever manages to be to staff. House’s is friendlier and is followed by a question about how Sarah is doing. She immediately brightens up and launches into a story about how the medical advice he’d given her one night (he can’t remember it but even black out he knows his shit) had helped her pass a class for her nursing degree.

House is just about to remind her that she’s got a job to do actually when Wilson, smiling pleasantly, says, “I’m sorry, something has come up, you can cancel that order.” Then he stands, grabs House by the arm, and very clearly indicates that they should leave.

“Oh,” says a surprised Sarah. “Sure. I’ll see you later I guess?”

“You won’t,” Wilson says with confidence.

And House…well it’s not like Wilson could drag him out of here by force. House could very easily refuse to play this little game of jealousy if he wanted to. But he’s also intrigued and so grabs his cane and stands. Instead of being hauled away immediately like he’s expecting, Wilson instead grabs House by the collar and brings him in for a kiss. More than a peck, but not quite long enough for House to get his bearings and make a show of it, purely to taunt Wilson with later.

With that little public display accomplished, Wilson does indeed tug House out of the restaurant, House giving a little wave to a flustered Sarah as they go.

They pause outside, the air cold enough to fog their breaths, to pull on jackets that were thrown over arms in their haste.

“You’re ridiculous,” House says, shifting his cane from one hand to the other.

“I know,” is Wilson’s clipped response.

“And also you owe me dinner.”

“I know.”

“Did I say you were ridiculous? Because you are. Who the hell gets jealous over a stripper?”

“I do, apparently,” Wilson grinds out. “Especially when they’re flirting with you right in front of me.”

“There was not nearly enough cleavage present for that to be considered flirting,” House says with gravitas. Then, because he’s a dick, “You should give me another kiss, I think she’s still watching.”

It’s meant as a joke but Wilson rounds on him, grabs his face in two hands, and kisses him soundly. This time it’s a real kiss, and it drags on and on until House can’t remember why he’d suggested it in the first place, or even that he’d only suggested it in jest. Christ, but Wilson can kiss.

When they finally part House has to take a moment to regather his thoughts. Wilson looks rather smug about it too, the jealous dick.

“You still owe me dinner,” House says the moment his thoughts clear. Wilson’s smug look fades and is followed by an eye roll.

“I’ll buy you McDonald’s. Get in the damn car.”

[animeloverskylarmoon]

Urahara Kisuke (Bleach) - Oneshot

“T-Thank you for saving me.”

Ichigo rose, sheathing his blade with a nod. Kisuke behind him, lifting his fan.

“Hollows are dangerous. I know you were trying to help that ghost, but you shouldn’t put yourself in danger like that."

“Hai, thank you again!”

You bowed and Kisuke chuckled.

“You should let Rukia know that it was a false alarm. No unusual activity. Just a lost soul.”

Ichigo nods.

“I will. Look after her.”

Kisuke merely waved Ichigo off with a sway of his fan and a grin. In seconds Ichigo was gone and you straightened.

Kisuke turned to you.

“Now that he’s gone, are you ready to tell me who you are?”

You just offer a smile.

“I-I’m not sure what you mean. I was lucky that the reaper showed up.” 

You laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.

Kisuke closed his fan, his emerald gaze trained on you.

“You can drop the act. I’m not as naive as Ichigo. You knew we were close so you ensured that we caught you at just the right moment so you wouldn’t reveal yourself. Quite impressive."

His eyes were probing and the smile finally dropped from your lips as you lowered your hand. Your gaze hardened.

“I’m not a threat.”

“How can I confirm that?”

Gritting your teeth, you glare.

“Are you picking a fight?”

Kisuke didn’t need to be told that you were powerful, he could see it in your eyes.

“I’m not. I actually wanted a favor.”

For a moment you think it’s a joke, but his eyes show sincerity. Your shoulders relax.

“A favor?”

“Yes. Although you’re strong, I can tell it isn’t malicious. You were trying to help that soul. When you felt us approaching you were just trying to protect your identity. I get the feeling that’s because of someone we both are weary of.”

Just the mention has your body tensing.

“Sosuke Aizen.”

Your jaw sets, and Kisuke nods.

“He’s a problem both for this world and theirs. There’s a war coming. When it comes I just need you to protect him.”

“That child, Ichigo?”

Kisuke nodded.

“He might be the only thing that can stop Aizen from tearing the world of the living apart. I get the feeling you like it here as much as I do.”

He’s right. You haven’t survived this long to let Aizen tear away your peace. Especially in such a beautiful world.

“I do. I have people here that mean a lot to me.”

You can’t take the chance of anything ever happening to the family that you’ve built.

“Tell me what you need.”

Kisuke was certain it would take a lot more convincing, but he’s pleasantly surprised. He just smiles, holding out his hand and you take it.

That was how it started.

Your partnership.

When he said protect the kid, you didn’t think he meant literally.

Isshin was seated at Ichigo’s side, and you were at the other.

The war Kisuke spoke of came faster than you expected. A threat to Karakura was a threat to you. That’s why as you and Isshin guarded Ichigo's unconscious body, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts stray. You knew Kisuke had a plan. He hadn’t told you in detail, but from the moment he discovered your strength, you decided that there was nothing that should surprise you about this man.

After Ichigo’s face off and Aizen’s ultimate sealing, you stood at the sidelines watching the injured get attended to. Before you moved to offer your assistance, you caught Kisuke’s eyes and he smiled, sending you a nod. It felt like you hadn’t truly done much. You basically played bodyguard. But you could see he was grateful, so you returned the gesture with a smile.

It had been a few years before you saw him again.

He’d ran into you on your way back from one of your classes.

“So when you said family, I didn’t realize you meant an entire school.”

You nod, playing with the flower petal between your fingertips.

“I never truly understood how important humanity was until I was stranded here without memories. These humans, they took me in, treated me like their own. It’s my duty to repay that debt.”

Kisuke’s earlier assumption was correct.

“You were a soul passed on.”

“Yes. Somehow I was reborn. It caught the interest of some dangerous people.”

Now it makes sense why you’d so eagerly agreed to fight against Aizen.

“He tried to hurt what was precious to me, so I removed his first creations. After the encounter, he was wise to keep his distance.”

Aizen was always better at studying from afar. While he was inquisitive by nature, even he knew when to leave well enough alone.

“That kid, he lost his powers.”

Kisuke shouldn’t be shocked that you picked up on it.

“He did.”

Although he said that, Kisuke didn’t look worried.

You squint.

“You’re planning something aren’t you?”

“Eh? I don’t know what you mean.” He started laughing loudly as he waved his fan around and you smiled.

“You’re still as troublesome as when we first met.”

Not much had changed.

You would see each other a few times in the year.

The battle with the fullbrings caught your attention, and when you felt that surge of power, you knew exactly what it was. You were happy. So the very next day you stopped by the shop. Sure enough, Ichigo was standing there, sword and robes present.

“Hey, it’s you again.”

You gave a small wave.

“It’s good to see you’re a reaper again.”

He looked shocked, and he meant to question it, but Kisuke stepped out. Still rocking those terribly ugly stripes. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of ease. Somehow, as long as Kisuke was there, you knew that this town that you treasured so much would be okay.

Ichigo was off to the soul society and Kisuke had offered to walk you home.

“Life seems very settled now.”

Kisuke smiles at the observation.

“I suppose as settled as it can be. I might be getting too old for these wars.”

You giggle.

“So am I.” You respond.

You both exchange a look, continuing the rest of the trip in a comfortable silence. When you stop at your door, you turn to him.

“Thank you Kisuke.”

Not just for the company, but for helping to protect something that was important to you.

“I suppose I’ll see you around.” You state.

“I was hoping it would be sooner rather than later.”

The statement leaves you a bit puzzled. You tilt your head in question and Kisuke laughs.

“If you haven’t figured it out in all these years it might be naive for me to just expect you’ll put it all together.”

Kisuke takes a step forward, and when he takes your hand in his, your cheeks heat up.

“I would like to see you again.”

This time it clicks, if his gaze is anything to go off. You stumble over your words and his smile just grows wider as he bends over and leaves a kiss at the top of your palm.

“Have a good night (Y/N).”

The smoothness in which he delivers that goodbye has your heart racing. Kisuke releases you, tipping his hat. In a blink, he’s gone and you’re left standing there somewhat gaping.

“He..just asked me out on a date..”

Have you really been that blind?

It’s clear that power sometimes equals obliviousness. 

[batsplat]

what press conference is that and what lies is Valentino telling 😭😭😭

I’m always obsessed w the Case - J Lo - Vale pressers bc I feel like Jorge actively dissociates anytime he’s not asked a question (bc he’s already internally mapping out his answers to the next 20 possible questions he could be asked), Casey simmers n stews n hates every second of being there, and Vale is just always having the time of his life

(side note but rly underrated skill of his!! to be able to pretend you actually enjoy the press element!! maybe he’s not pretending, maybe he really is just able to turn it On that often & that easily…but idk I’ve been a longtime f1 fan too & the way Vale is able to make press conferences ~fun, or at least project that he’s having fun during them, is incredibly rare)

((i recognize “underrated” is probably not the right term generally speaking for the guy who is widely recognized as like the greatest showman the sport’s ever had lol. just that i personally underrate it & then am always pleasantly surprised when i watch almost any press conference of his))

(text posts here) this is from aragon 2011, a point in their relationship where quite honestly casey didn't need much of an excuse to give valentino the stink eye

there's not anything in the presser you'd actively expect casey to want to kill valentino with his mind over (beyond valentino's terminal affinity for yapping at anyone in his vicinity in these things). maybe valentino commenting on how fast casey and ducati had been at aragon the last year somehow attracted casey's ire? maybe valentino reiterating he was going to race in japan (a major talking point throughout that year - valentino and jorge had initially been united in launching a bit of a riders' revolt on that issue, including meeting at jorge's motorhome at a time when relations between them were otherwise... uh, frosty; eventually it had been casey and jorge who were the final holdouts, with casey still not willing to 100% commit at aragon)... generally though, I reckon this is mostly just how casey looked at valentino those days

though that reminds me, there's one specific question where, if I were valentino, honestly I'd be tempted to off myself - but somehow it's casey who manages to look quite awkward while valentino just laughs

Q: Different question for you, Casey - any advice for Valentino this weekend? This is where you turned your season around last year. ... Ride faster? CS: Do something drastic, I don't know... (mumbles) [Same for me?]

absolute all timer dynamic idk, look at casey's little nervous tics while valentino is grinning at him

so self-conscious god bless

anyway, here's the presser photo

expression gets gradually more enthusiastic as you move to the right. not reflective of current competitive situation

and yeah I find their different styles of engagement v interesting!! jorge's also gone on a bit of an arc with this over the years... you've got these very early clips where he still needs a translator in the presser (not at all uncommon, dovi for instance was the same) and he's just deeply awkward but also quite enthusiastic, then you get to his first premier class years where... y'know, he's clearly not a natural at this, but he WANTS to be, he WANTS to engage with the process and be charming and all the rest of it... and then by 2011 he's kind of given up. 2010 was great for his career but less great for his popularity, and it's really when you can feel the disillusionment creeping in. he never quite loses that part of himself, still obviously wants to win hearts and minds... but yeah. he's never been particularly up for listening to his peers in these things, but by this point in time he did clearly want to fast forward through these things. default state is zoning out

casey might be a well-known sceptic of any kind of engagement with the public - but he's actually a self-professed people watcher, he likes sitting around quietly observing people. one of my fave lil autobiography nuggets:

I like to think I can read people very well, especially people I get to study a lot, and when I come in during a session to make changes to the bike that is exactly what I am doing. The mechanics might think that because I have got my visor down I'm just sitting there doing nothing but I'm observing everything and I could see they weren't coping well with the pressure of having the big bosses watching over them.

'my mechanics think I'm doing nothing but actually I'm sitting with my visor down secretly observing them' is such a. a deeply funny line, deeply casey line. not sure I'm convinced the mechanics would prefer to know that this is what casey was doing, but there we are. in any case, obviously casey doesn't SAY this but I don't think it's a massive leap to suggest he was doing the same thing in pressers. ofc I enjoy using these photos in text posts because they kinda tell their own story, but I should note that to some extent this is just casey's resting face. like,, if I'm sufficiently motivated obviously I can also make a 'casey doesn't fw dani' version

now admittedly, there are way fewer photos of casey staring at dani and jorge (or indeed anyone else) than there are of him staring at valentino... arguably even in the years where valentino is very much no longer casey's main on-track rival. but like, there's also relatively less photos of casey making heart eyes at those other two guys. whether this genuinely reflects how much staring casey was doing or is just the result of photographer bias (no criticism, I too would be documenting every look casey sends valentino's way) or a combination of the two... who knows. but I DO think that casey was very much committed to studying valentino, including by doing this little staring act in pressers. slightly clashes with his whole 'oh I don't care about my rivals' schtick, but, well, casey's no stranger to a bit of an internal contradiction. so he's quietly studying and quietly judging and quietly seething... LEARNING from the enemy by documenting every last detail of his side profile. or something

and yeah lol massive props to valentino not getting tired of this week in week out. admittedly in pressers specifically he does also frequently entertain himself by choosing the nearest convenient victim to yap at, which both jorge and casey very obviously found an annoying habit at times. (shout out to misano 2016 where jorge and valentino started bickering in the presser and jorge afterwards went HE NEVER SHUTS UP IN THESE THINGS, which, like, wasn't particularly relevant in that specific situation and clearly had just been something he'd been sitting on for years.) both jorge and casey have also actively turned to valentino on at least one occasion in a presser to indicate that they would like him to shut the fuck up - and both times valentino has complied, so theoretically at least they could have put a stop to this. so, y'know, it probably doesn't hurt if you're the type of guy willing to make your own fun in these pressers, even when it comes at the active cost of the sanity of the people around you. beyond that though, yup. I mean it's probably a good attitude to have if that's literally your whole life. I think it's always done valentino a lot of good that he's fundamentally a curious type of bloke who is curious about other people. journalists DO piss him off a lot of the time, but in theory it's a process he likes engaging with because he likes talking and he likes listening. honestly did miracles for the vibes of these things, like the f1 thing is a good point because I sometimes watch motogp pressers these days and go. man. this place could do with a yapper

[marblemoonstones]

we were in screaming color 🩵

main masterlist

summary: you didn’t want to go back to your hometown, not when your frustrating parents were there. you left that life behind. but who knew that rebuilding your old elementary school would also bring a new romance?

warnings: f reader, curse words, angst, frustrating/toxic parents, car accident (nothing graphic)

word count: ~ 6.7k (longest fic written so far!! 🥳)

a/n: I’m super excited to start this series :) 💗 (song lyrics won’t start until later into the fic bc I had to add background details. most of the lyrics will be used)

song: out of the woods 

album: 1989 (taylor’s version)

trope: small hometown romance

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The year was 1989… 

“Mom, dad, I have something to tell you,” I say, trying not to pace anxiously. 

“Sweetie, is something wrong?” Mom asks, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Dad also looks nervous, as I never usually act in this manner. They’re both sitting on our worn cream couch, slightly sagging from overuse.

“Well…you know how I wanted to go pursue my architecture degree in Seoul?” I ask, remembering their horrified reactions to me having a desire to move out of our small hometown of Tonjung. 

“Yes, I remember. And I also remember us not wanting you to leave,” Dad says, his face solemn and sure. 

That’s funny. They both think I’m staying. 

“I know, but I got into the University of Seoul School of Architecture,” I say, hoping that they’ll be at least a little proud. But knowing deep in my heart that they won’t care.

“Good for you honey, but I thought you were going to stay here and run the family business. You’re the only child we have, y/n. You have to carry on the legacy,” Mom says firmly. 

“That’s what you want,” I sigh, already weary of the conversation, “But I want to go and live my dream.” Every time that I bring architecture up they always dismiss it. I don’t know whether or not it’s because they don’t believe in me or because they want me to follow their perfect vision.

“You and your dreams! Don’t you care about your family at all? Our dream is to be grandparents! Why don’t you settle down here and find a nice boy and-“

“Mom, dad, enough!” I hiss, my anger finally boiling over, “I don’t want to fucking live in your dream, I have a dream of my own. And I’ll be damned if I let this opportunity go to waste. I already paid for everything and set it up, so I just wanted to see if you were going to support me. But I guess not.” 

My parents are now in shock, eyes wide and mouths slightly agape. But I don’t care.

“Goodbye.” 

And with that, I leave, grabbing my suitcases that I had hidden and waiting by the door. The tears prickle at the edge of my eyes. 

“Honey!”

“Wait!”

They shout, but I ignore them. Opening the door, I run straight into a man. Oh, is this another poor soul that they’re trying to set me up with? Too bad for him.

I shove my shit into the car and start it. Turning out of the driveway, I’m off to my new life. 

~

Thirteen years later

~

“Ms. Choi! We need you to sign this, approving the floor plan for the new hospital. We added all the details you requested and-“ 

(I don’t know anything about architecture, so I’m trying to not add details. I’m sorry if I’m inaccurate with anything!)

I sign it quickly and then walk to the meeting room. My assistant has a ‘new project’ that I’ll ‘definitely want to be a part of!’ That means one of two things: either it’s a horrible project and they’re trying to hype it up so I’ll do it, or it’s actually a good investment and I’ll be pleasantly surprised. 

I tend to have a ‘pessimistic’ point of view, but that’s only because I have high standards. After graduating top of my class, I started a job at one of the top architect corporations, Park Designs. Slowly climbing the ranks, I am now one of the top architects at Park. And it only took me five years. Some of my classmates are still low class designers at middle-class businesses. Not to sound cocky of course, but I had to work my ass off in college and during my internships. While my classmates were out partying and drinking, I was working on my designs and making sure they was the best. 

Stepping into the meeting room, I’m not surprised to see my assistant, Jungwoon, but I am surprised to see my boss Seonming. Seonming usually doesn’t come to these meetings, as she’s usually busy helping the CEO, Park Ji-young. 

“Hello y/n, it’s good to see you,” Seonming says shaking my hand. I’ve always admired Seonming, partly because she’s an amazing architect and partly because she’s a high ranking woman in a usually male dominated field. 

“Good morning Seonming, it’s good to see you too,” I say, meaning every word. 

I take a seat in the plush chairs, glad to get the nice meeting room.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m in here. As you know, I don’t usually comes when there’s a new project for you,” Seonming starts, “But this project is especially personal, and I wanted to pitch it to you.”

Personal? What does she mean by that?

Jungwoon hands me the files before bowing and leaving the room. 

“Before you look at it, please know that I specifically selected you for this project because I know that you like designing for the greater good. You have a good heart, y/n, and that’s why I chose you for this. Not for any other reason,” Seonming says, making me wonder what’s so special about this project.

I take a deep breath and open the files. Instantly, I see the location. Tonjung, South Korea. Oh no, oh no no no. 

“Now, before you get all mad, please understand-“

“Seonming. You know why I can’t do this. I left that life behind for a reason,” I say, irritation rising in me. Seonming of all people knows why I can’t go back! I haven’t seen my parents in years, only talking to them at the holidays or our respective birthdays. Our relationship is formal at best.

“I know y/n, but please consider it. You haven’t even looked at the project yet,” Seonming says implored.

I know she’s right, as she always is, so I scan the summary. Building a new school? Did something happen to my elementary school? 

“What happened to Tonjung Elementary?” I ask, thinking about the cozy and warm school I went to.

“There was an earthquake,” Seonming explains, “And it all but destroyed the current school. They need an architect who can rebuild the school, and I recommended you. Not because you used to live there, but because I knew you’d be able to do it justice.”

Damn. Seonming is really good at making someone feel guilty. She knows I’m a sucker for humanitarian projects, whether it be building a new hospital or, in this case, a new school. 

Why didn’t I know that the earthquake happened? Why didn’t my parents tell me? I’m assuming it’s because they think I don’t care, but just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t have an attachment to the town I grew up in.

I sigh, already knowing my answer. 

“Okay…I guess for Tonjung Elementary…” I grumble, trying to ignore the happy look on Seonming’s face. 

“Great! You’ll have to stay there for a while, of course, but the project doesn’t start for another two weeks. That should give you enough time!” Seonming is being surprisingly brief with details. Usually she gives me a full run down and explains every last aspect.

“Okay…how long will this last?” I ask, suspicious. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s supposed to last two to three years. Anyways, I’ll send the rest of the information soon! Have a good day y/n!” Seonming leaves in a rush, clearly trying to avoid me so I can’t back out.

Two to three years? In my hometown? With my parents? Oh boy. What did I just agree to?

~ 

Two weeks fly by and before I know it I’m leaving with a lot of my stuff. Even though I may come back to the city once in a while, it won’t be often because the drive from Seoul to Tonjung is a good seven hours. 

“Goodbye y/n! Have safe travels and try to have a little fun,” Jungwoon says. He’s handling my office while I’m gone. I trust him, and I know he’ll do a good job.

“Thanks, Jungwoon. And don’t forget to text me if there are any problems!” I call, waving as I drive off. 

I put on music and try to enjoy the long drive. It is beautiful by the coast, and if I ignore the awkwardness with my parents, then going back home isn’t too bad. 

I’m just glad that I’m staying at an Air BnB because otherwise I’d have to endure my parents’ constant nagging about how I left them, how I need to settle down, and all that bullshit. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. I have plenty of time to find a partner. I want to keep working towards my goal, becoming a CEO (like Park Ji-young) of my own architectural business. 

The drive passes by quickly, and soon the tall skyscrapers of Seoul turn into quaint houses with chipping paint.

I pull into the Air BnB and get out of my car. Breathing in the salty air, I feel the crisp breeze on my skin. It’s June and the weather is a bit hot at times so the breeze is a nice reprieve. I start yo unload my stuff and place it in the bedroom. This is a nice Air BnB because it has all the essentials (washer, dryer, dishwasher, etc.) for one person. 

I go to the bathroom and freshen up. After changing my clothes, I decide to rip the bandaid off and go to my parents since it’s only about 3 in the afternoon.

Tonjung is small enough to walk place to place, and my parents’ house is only a couple blocks over from the Air BnB. 

I steady myself before knocking on the door. The aqua paint that used to be cheerful and welcoming now feels cheap and tacky. 

The door opens, and my dad’s face appears. He opens the door slightly wider for me to come in, but I can tell he’s not that happy to see me.

“Hi honey, come on in. Your mom’s in the living room.” He shuts the door behind me and I feel as though I’m heading straight to my doom. 

I cautiously step into the room and see my mom.

“Hi mom…it’s good to see you again,” I say, tentative of how this visit will go.

She turns her head.

“Hi sweetie. How are you?” It’s turning into another one of our phone calls. Only this time I can’t make an excuse and hang up.

“I’m fine. It’s good to be back.” I hesitate on what to say next, trying to break the awkwardness that’s lingering in the air like stale perfume. 

“Good to have you back. Maybe this time you’ll stay,” mom says, and I stiffen.

“You know I had to go. And look at me now, I’ve achieved so much.” I always try my hardest to make my parents proud, even if they don’t know it. 

“Yes honey, you have. So why don’t you come back here for good? You can do your building business or whatever it is you do from here.” 

Mom never understands. It’s not just a ‘building business,’ it’s my life. I have big goals, and they’re only going to happen if I keep pursuing them. 

“Mom, you know I can’t move back here. I have to continue in Seoul because that’s where there are better opportunities for me,” I try to explain. Before anyone can say anything else, I hear a knock on the door.

“Oh, that must be Namjoon,” my dad says, going to open the door.

Namjoon? Kim Namjoon?

“Hey Namjoon! Yes yes, come on in. She’s right here.” Dad leads the handsome man over to me. 

“Hey, y/n! Long time no see.” 

Kim Namjoon sure has grown into those long legs and dimples. His eyes have always been beautifully sculpted, but they’re even more gorgeous now. I notice that he’s got some serious muscles in him now too. Seems he’s discovered working out.

“Hey Namjoon. Haven’t seen you in a while,” I say, trying (and failing) not to seem awkward.

“Namjoon here has grown up, hasn’t he y/n? And he even stayed in town,” Mom says pointedly.

I roll my eyes. So small town Namjoon stayed in the small town. Mom and dad probably wish he was their child.

“Okay, mom. I get it. Now, not to break up whatever this-“ I gesture to mom and I- “is, why did you call Namjoon here?”

“Oh! It’s because I’m the principal of Tonjung Elementary. We’ll be working together on the rebuilding a lot,” Namjoon explains.

“Oh that’s fun…” I trail off, not sure what else to say. Yay? Spending two to three years working with someone I haven’t seen in ages?

“Yes it is! Now, why don’t you two mosey on down to the beach and get to know each other after such a long time. I’m sure there’s much to catch up on. And your father and I have to go to the store.” Mom practically forces us out, and before I know it Namjoon and I are standing outside the front door. So much for subtleness. Mom just wants me to find a boyfriend.

“That was quick,” I mumble, “Even for them.” Usually our visits on the phone last at least fifteen minutes, but this one breaks the record with being about five.

Namjoon chuckles. I blush, not knowing that he heard me. 

“Well, it seems that we are supposed to go to the beach. Shall we?” Polite as ever, Namjoon is. 

“Sure. We shall.” 

Traipsing down we make our way to the beach and I immediately take off of my shoes to feel the sand. I find a good spot and sit down and stare at the ocean. The crashing waves do little to smooth my mind. 

“So…” Namjoon starts, sitting down next to me. “You escaped. And you’re very successful now. I’ve seen you in magazines and such.”

Magazines? My name is almost never mentioned but I suppose there were a couple pieces written about my various projects.

“Heh, yeah. I’m lucky to be where I am today,” I affirm as I start drawing hearts in the sand. 

“Yeah…the last time I saw you you weren’t doing the best so I’m glad you made it.” Namjoon has a look in his eyes I don’t recognize. Pity? Sympathy?

“Wait when was the last time I saw you?” I don’t remember seeing him since high school graduation.

“When you were leaving. For college. After,” Namjoon winces, “The fight with your parents.” 

Wait how did he see me then? Unless-

“YOU were the man outside the door! I thought it was another random man my parents were trying to set me up with!” I exclaim.

Namjoon smiles sheepishly. 

“Well…that was me. And I wasn’t just there for fun…” 

“Ohhh so you were another poor suitor sent by my parents,” I side eye him for a second before we both burst into laughter. 

“Ah yes, that’s me. A ‘suitor’ for you! Perhaps you should like to date me madam?” Namjoon says in an accent.

As I laugh, I think, Was he always this funny? I guess he’s more goofy now than in high school.

“Nah, I’m not ready to date anyone. I have to start my own architectural corporation first,” I say wistfully. Someday. 

“Oh yeah, I bet you’ll be able to do that. You always were so driven, even in high school,” Namjoon says, reminiscing. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me! I remember when I missed senior homecoming because I had to study.” 

I wanted to go, but I had a huge AP chem test the next day that I ‘couldn’t afford to fail.’ So, while my other classmates were dancing to ‘Party Rock’ I was at home poring over my textbooks. It paid off, I suppose, because I aced the test, but it wasn’t worth missing homecoming.

“Those dances weren’t that fun anyways,” Namjoon says, breaking my train of thought.

“Oh! Yes I guess they weren’t. I wonder how everyone’s doing nowadays. I haven’t spoken to any of them in ages,” I mused. I’m only friends with some of them on social media, and even then I don’t check it frequently enough to know what’s happening in their lives.

“Remember Cho Eun Jung? Well, now she’s a famous fashion designer. Heard her designs were featured in Paris Fashion Week or something. And little Kim Ha-Joon? He has a family of his own now. They moved to America a while ago,” Namjoon notes, nose crinkling as he thinks. 

“Wow. Seems as if everyone’s out there living their life and I’m stuck in Seoul, single and still pursuing my dream career,” I say, melancholy sinking in. The truth is, what have I done with my life? Sure, I’m a successful architect but I’m not famous and I don’t have a family. I’m not even close with the family that I do have.

“Hey, don’t think of yourself that way. You’re still successful, I mean only five years and now you’re a top architect at one of the top corporations. I’d say that’s impressive,” Namjoon says, making me laugh. 

“Thanks, Namjoon. And look at you, principal on Tonjung Elementary. That’s impressive. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Mr. Han?” Mr. Han was our principal when Namjoon and I went to Tonjung. 

“I don’t mind at all, and he retired. I think he’s living around here somewhere with his wife,” replies Namjoon. I’m glad that Mr. Han retired, he deserves it. That man was an excellent principal. 

“Oh, that’s good. I’m happy for him. I’m also happy for you, and I’m happy that we can catch up. I mean, we are going to be working together for a couple years,” I say sheepishly. 

“That’s true. I’m glad that it’s you who I’m working with,” Namjoon says, flashing me a smile, his dimples prominent. 

I smile back.

“Me too.”

~

(I won’t be adding many details about the new school design because I am not an architect and don’t want to mess up anything about the process :))

The months pass by in a whirlwind with planning and sketching the new school. Namjoon and I try to make it similar to the old one, but there are a few modern adjustments that we add.

Currently, all of the students are having to go to school in a neighboring town. Namjoon and I work as quickly as we can so that they can come back and attend school here. 

~

September arrives and with it cooler weather. The leaves are starting to turn their gorgeous shades and I start wearing my knit sweaters. 

One day I’m heading over to Namjoon’s house because I forgot my laptop charger. I knock on his cerulean door and he answers, smiling that cute grin of his.

“Hey y/n! Come on in. I’m assuming you’re here for your laptop charger?”

I step inside, replying “Yes! I can’t believe I left it here. I’m so forgetful sometimes.” 

I grab it off of the coffee table, and am about to leave when Namjoon clears his throat.

“Would…you like to stay for a bit? I remember you wanting to watch that new k-drama and it just came out. You don’t have to though if you don’t want to! Sorry, I just thought maybe-“

“Namjoon,” I interrupt, smiling internally at his shyness, “It’s fine. I’d love to stay for a while. I’m glad that you remember when the k-drama was coming out because I sure didn’t!” 

After popping popcorn (our second bag as Namjoon burnt the first batch) and grabbing sodas we settle down to watch ‘Business Proposal’ (I know it didn’t come out this early but I love this k-drama okay? 😭). 

We binged the whole season that afternoon. After the last episode my stomach hurt from all the popcorn and soda but my heart was full. 

“The last scene was so pretty! Those cherry blossoms…” I sigh as I lean back into the couch, “I can only dream to have such a perfect proposal someday.”

“I know the right person will come along y/n. Just wait and see,” Namjoon says with such certainty that I look at him. How does he know that I’ll find someone?

“Yeah, I guess so,” I reply, letting my head drop to the couch. If I close my eyes, I can just imagine that this little moment was perfect. Namjoon and I in a perfect bubble. No outsiders or prying parents to belittle me. 

‎♪ looking at it now

it all seems so simple ‎♪

I hear the sound of a flash and open my eyes to see Namjoon holding a Polaroid camera. 

“Hey! Did you just take a picture of me?” I gasp at him as he grins sheepishly.

“Maybe?” 

“Why?” I ask him, trying to grab the camera out of his hand.

“Because! Look,” Namjoon says, showing me the picture.

I look so pensive, eyes closed to the world. The sun beams down through the window and hits my face perfectly like I’m in a movie. My hair is spread on the couch in a surprisingly beautiful way.

‎♪ we were lying on your couch

I remember ‎♪

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such a touch for photography Namjoon!” I praise, seeing the man blush.

“Oh, it’s not that hard when I have a great subject to photograph.” Namjoon waves off the compliment. 

“Can I keep the picture?” I ask, grinning excitedly when he drops it into my hands, “Thanks!”

Namjoon holds the camera out in front of both of us. “Let’s take a selfie together, y/n.” 

“Okay!” I say, getting close and throwing up a peace sign. Flash! 

‎♪ you took a Polaroid of us

then discovered ‎♪

The picture comes out beautifully, the sun hitting the two of us just right and our beaming faces genuine. 

“Aww, we look so cute Namjoon. Why don’t you keep this picture because you let me keep the first one. A memory when we watched Business Proposal!” I cheer, feeling happy for the first time in a while. 

When was the last time I let myself just be with someone? No work, no worrying about parents or expectations. Just me and them. 

‎♪ the rest of the world was black and white

but we were in screaming color ‎♪

I blink, surprised with my sudden desire to cry. Was my life so monotone that simple moments like these made me happy? Did…Namjoon make me happy? No, it was just the fun of hanging out with someone. That’s why, I’m riding the high of having a true friendship. No other reason. 

‎♪ and I remember thinking

are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

~

It’s December and the air is cooler as winter sneaks in. I’m over at his house about a week until Christmas, complaining about my parents (yet again). 

“They want me to go to their annual Christmas party! Which is fine, because, like, my family will be there, but that means a night of suffering as they compare me to my cousins. Half of my cousins are married, some have children, and the others at least live close by. I don’t check any of those boxes so they’ll just use the night to make me feel guilty!” I rant while sitting on Namjoon’s couch. 

‎♪ looking at it now 

last this december ‎♪

Namjoon winces. 

“I’m sorry…do your parents even know how they make you feel?”

“But it’s not just my family! You know my parents, they invite the whole damn town!” I plow on, then stop after realizing Namjoon said something, “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“I said that I’m sorry and asked if your parents know how bad they make you feel. It’s obvious they don’t, but have you tried talking to them about it?” Namjoon repeats. 

“Oh, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault they’re this way. And yeah, I have tried to talk to them. Since high school, actually, when I told them I wanted to pursue being an architect. But they turned it down immediately! They didn’t even listen to me!” I put my head into my hands.

Namjoon puts his arm around me in a half hug.

“I wish there was a way for me to help you, y/n. If it makes you feel any better, I can come to the party with you. Your parents did invite me.”

Of course they did. They want me to find someone so desperately that they probably invited all of the eligible bachelors in Tonjung. 

I lean into Namjoon’s hug, trying to absorb some of his calming aura. 

‎♪ we were built to fall apart

then fall back together ‎♪

The day of the dreaded party arrives and I shove myself into a sparkly red dress that’s itchy and uncomfortable. I feel like a present. 

At precisely 5:20pm my doorbell rings. Grabbing my purse I open the door to see Namjoon. In a suit. Wow, he cleans up nice.

“Joon! You look great. That suit looks great on you,” I babble. Since when have I been nervous around him?

“Same to you! Well, not about the suit but that dress. Looks really good on you,” Namjoon stumbles out. Looks like I’m not the only awkward one. 

I smile. 

“Thank you Namjoon. Shall we?” 

“Oh! Before we leave, I wanted to give you your Christmas gift.” He brings out a small velvet box from behind his back.

I gasp, then say, “Joon! You didn’t have to get me anything. I didn’t get you anything!” 

“It’s okay,” Namjoon says, stepping inside, “I don’t need anything. I’m just glad that we’re friends.”

He hands me the box and I open it. Inside is a simple chain necklace with a gold North Star charm at the end. I look closer at it and realize-

“Namjoon! This is your necklace! I can’t accept this. It’s yours!” I try to give him the box back but he refuses.

“Please accept it. It will look perfect on you,” Namjoon pleads, and after trying again to give it back but failing, I accept it. 

“Okay, Joon, thank you. It’s beautiful. Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course.” 

He takes it out gently and brings it in front of my neck. Fastening it carefully I look down at it. 

It fits perfectly.

‎♪ ooh, your necklace hanging from my neck

the night we couldn’t quite forget ‎♪

The party is dull. My parents compare me to my cousins, introduce me to tasteless men, and force me to talk to their judgmental friends. Luckily, Joon is there to help ease some of the pain. We last about an hour before leaving, saying we have ‘work to do on the design.’ To which my parents ignore. Oh well. Who cares? Not me.

Namjoon and I go to his house after (we always go to his house instead of my Air BnB because I said it feels more cozy). We collapse on the couch and laugh, thinking about our escapades at the party. Counting how many mini quiches my cousin ate, seeing how many chocolates we could sneak into Namjoon’s pocket. 

“Hey! Why don’t we do karaoke? That’ll be fun way to ring in Christmas!” Namjoon says excitedly. And he’s right. It is Christmas Eve after all.

“Okay,” I agree. And we move the coffee table and chairs and then plug in the machine. After a couple rounds we tire out and decide to just listen to the Christmas radio. Jingle Bell Rock comes on and I find myself pulling Namjoon up off the couch.

“C’mon Joon, dance with me!” He’s reluctant at first but eventually we find a rhythm, happy and free.

‎♪ when we decided, we decided

to move the furniture so we could dance ‎♪

White Christmas comes on and Namjoon grabs my hand and we start to slowly ‘waltz’ around the room (it’s mostly swaying). I feel my heart start to beat faster, my face flush.

‎♪ baby, like we stood a chance ‎♪

I can feel Namjoon’s body heat and force myself to look into his eyes. Those, caring, sweet, beautiful eyes. He looks back at me. Our faces are mere inches apart, and I slowly press my lips to his. He doesn’t pull away. 

‎♪ two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying ‎♪

~ 

I spend the night, wearing his clothes and sleeping next to him. We cuddle up and wake up together on Christmas morning. 

“Good morning beautiful,” Namjoon says in his deep morning voice.

I blush. 

“Good morning Joon,” I reply, trying to hide my face.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. 

“Merry Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift,” I say, still thinking of what I could give him.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You are the best gift.”

‎♪ and I remember thinking 

are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

~

December turns to April, four months of dating Namjoon. My parents are overjoyed, but I manage to ignore their suggestive comments and instead focus on the man himself. 

Valentine’s Day is a whole affair, Namjoon giving me the biggest bouquet of wildflowers, handpicked by him. And if that wasn’t enough, he also gifts me a whole bouquet of chocolate-covered strawberries (which he found out are my most favorite food ever). I get him a moon necklace that matches my North Star one, teasing, “Now we can be one of those cheesy couples who have matching necklaces.” 

On a muddy spring day in March we make a spontaneous trip to a neighboring town’s traveling carnival. After buying sugary cotton candy and popcorn, Namjoon and I try our hands at the games. We each win a stuffed animal for each other, me winning him a koala and him winning me a giant panda. Their names are Koya and James respectively. The carousel is fun, us holding hands like lovesick teenagers the entire time and (probably) annoying all the kids riding. At the end of the day Namjoon and I go on the Ferris wheel, kissing sweetly at the top beneath the velvet starry sky.

Namjoon makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever felt. My self esteem has definitely improved and my heart is constantly full. He treats me like a queen and I hope that I treat him like the king that he is. 

We go on cute dates around town. Coffee shop dates on rainy days, reading for hours on end at the library, feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries at the park. Although, I think the best ones are either a simple afternoon at the beach or cuddling on the couch. 

We often dance together in his living room, two souls in their own world. Just like the day of the Polaroid picture (which he has up on his wall), I feel as though I’m in my own bubble of joy. 

‎♪ are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

But not all good things last forever.

Talk of the future rarely come up, but when it does Namjoon is surprisingly avoidant of answering anything. I know that I have my job in the city, and I also know that he loves the beach and being away from crowds of people. How could this work? 

A particularly bad argument leads to me storming out, irritated that Namjoon doesn’t want to discuss our relationship after the school is finished. And with how far it’s progressing, it looks to be done in about a year. 

“Sweetheart, please. I’m not ready to talk about this yet because I don’t want to think about it,” Namjoon implores as I start to gather my things.

“You’re never ready. We have to talk about it someday, and I need to know about the future of us.” I’m so frustrated about this reoccurring disagreement, and this is a sign that it’s time for me to leave. “I’m leaving, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” His hand on my arm only further annoys me. 

“Sweets, please don’t leave. I just…have commitment issues. Forgive me, but thinking that far ahead makes me feel tied down. I just want to live in the moment,” he pleads.

I look into those dark eyes and see something vulnerable and raw in there. There’s a nagging voice in the back of my head that says to stay but I turn and go out the door. 

“Y/n!” 

‎♪ remember when you hit the brakes too soon? 

twenty stitches in a hospital room ‎♪

I get into my car and start driving in the downpour. I don’t know where I’m going,  but I do know that I need to get out of this town.

The rocky cliffs are jagged in the lightning and I angrily pump the gas once more. I see a shape dart out and try to hit the brakes. But I’m too slow. All I see is black as the world fades away.

‎♪ when you started crying, baby, I did too

but when the sun came up, I was looking at you ‎♪

I groggily open my eyes and the first thing I see is a body sitting in a chair. As I come to, I also notice curtains and an IV. I’m in a hospital.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I feel like it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you leave I should’ve made you stay and you could’ve died…” 

Namjoon. 

He’s here.

I turn to look at him and smile weakly. 

“Joon, it’s okay. I’m okay.” 

Those words seem to break him and he comes and holds me close while sobbing.

‎♪ I was looking at you ‎♪

After he’s calmed down he tells me what happened. I hit a deer last night and had a concussion. After finding me and rushing me to the hospital I had to have twenty stitches (this probably isn’t accurate and I apologize). 

Namjoon tells me that my parents have come to visit but I wasn’t awake when they came. It’s now two pm.

“I’m so sorry. So so sorry. It was my fault and I shouldn’t have let you leave-“

“Namjoon.” I cut off his rambling, “You sound like a broken record. It’s okay. I’m okay. Can we talk about what happened before the accident?” I know it’s quick, but I need to know before another horrible happens.

I feel his hand tense before he says, “Sure.”

“Please, Namjoon, tell me why you have commitment issues. I want to know everything about you. Please tell me. I want to be with you, I want to stay with you, but we need to be able to trust each other. Trust me, Namjoon,” I beg, trying to understand.

‎♪ remember when we couldn’t take the heat? 

I walked out, I said “I’m setting you free” ‎♪

Namjoon casts his eyes down. 

“I’m sorry y/n…you deserve to know. I-I’ll do my best to explain it.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “The future used to be something I would obsess over, planned to the very last detail. I had a girlfriend that I dated all through college, and I truly thought that she was the one.” It doesn’t bother me that Namjoon had another girlfriend, but I’m surprised he didn’t tell me about her sooner.

 “She was a part of my future, but I suddenly found out that she’s been cheating. That changed everything. My whole future was thrown askew. It was then that I decided to live freely and not worry about the future because I didn’t know what was in store. To not be tied down and to be spontaneous,” Namjoon finishes.

‎♪ but the monsters turned out to be just trees ‎♪

It makes so much sense, why he wants to live this free life. I understand that his past girlfriend scarred him in many ways, and I don’t blame him for being nervous. But I still wish he would’ve told me all this.

“I understand Namjoon, and I’m sorry that happened to you. Why didn’t you tell me this before? I know we’ve only been dating for a couple months, but I feel that this is something important to share.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve told you all this. Do you think you could forgive me? I promise that I will try to be more open and think a little bit more about my future with you,” Namjoon vows.

“I will forgive you. Eventually. But we need to work on communication if we want this to work.” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Deal.” 

He leans over to kiss my cheek.

‎♪ when the sun came up you were looking at me ‎ ‎♪

And I let him. 

‎♪ you were looking at me ‎♪

~

Two years later

~ 

The beach is hardly crowded today, only a few people set up with their umbrellas. Which is surprising, since it’s the start of summer. I guess the tourist waves hasn’t hit yet. 

Joon carries a picnic basket in one hand and holds mine in his other. He says that he has a surprise date planned, but I don’t see much of a surprise because of the picnic basket. 

We decided that it was best to take things slow, build up trust within one another. While the school was being finished, we took time to relax and get to know each other a bit better. Joon opened up more and I listened and now I better understand him. After the school was done, we had a big talk about our future. 

I decided to quit my job and start my own architecture business in Tonjung, letting me live that CEO life while also being in Namjoon’s life. It’s a pretty successful corporation, as my main goal was to focus on smaller towns and help them. 

I also had a big talking to with my parents. I explained how I felt and tried to get them to listen and understand me. They still want grandchildren, but they’re a little more understanding now of how that may or may not happen.

Joon and I aren’t even married yet, let alone thinking about children. Right now, all I want to do is enjoy this picnic ‘surprise’ date that he’s set up.

“Here’s the perfect spot for the picnic,” Joon says, leading me to a place away from other people while also being shaded. So much for a surprise.

We spread the blanket out then open the basket. I instantly see the chocolate-covered strawberries that I adore so much and grab one to munch on. 

“You and your strawberries,” Joon says fondly, shaking his head at me. 

“Hey, what can I say, I love them,” I mumble with my mouth full. 

Joon laughs and I see those dimples of his pop out. That grin still never fails to make me have butterflies. 

“And I love you.” He kisses the top of my head. 

We enjoy the picnic and as we’re packing up Joon stops me. 

“Wait, y/n, I have the surprise.” 

I look at him questioningly as he pulls out a tiny box. 

Then he gets down on one knee.

I start to go teary-eyed. 

“Choi y/n, I know this isn’t a cherry blossom proposal from Business Proposal-“

I laugh at that, thinking about that evening.

“-but I hope this is just as special. You are the most talented, smart, amazing, and gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. Even in high school you were already surpassing everyone else. I’m so lucky to call you my girlfriend. Thank you for putting up with me and for loving me as I am. You never fail to make me laugh and always make me feel better when I’m having a rough day. I trust you more than anyone and I love you more than you will ever know.”

I let the tears fall as Joon finishes.

“And with that, I ask you, Choi y/n, will you marry me?” 

Blinking, I answer the question.

“Yes.” 

‎♪ are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods? 

are we in the clear yet? 

are we in the clear yet?

are we in the clear yet? 

in the clear yet, good ‎♪

a/n: thanks for reading! 💕