#which i borrowed from my library to read last year

[pyrothecary]

hey gamers if you're here from tgp holy SHIT i'm so sorry. i have actually a negative amount of updates i'm currently in the process of replotting it because the story i had before got so unnecessarily complex, there were like 10 subplots and i'll be honest it just sucked ass. so i'm simplifying and starting from scratch

[mariemariemaria]

There are so many books I wanna read and so little time

[kthsbelle]

STRAWBERRY HAIRCLIP 🌸🍓

★ summary: female! reader finds a tattooed stranger asleep on her bed in the middle of her squishmellows at a house party.

★ pairing: college!eren jaeger x soft maths major fem!reader ♡

★ warnings + tags: 18+, college au, tattooed eren, softcore cute reader , eren w a snakebite piercing , thick thigh reader , poetry from eren, smut .

★ wordcount: 3,395

a/n: this is my first fic here ! i read a lot of eren au’s today and this idea suddenly came to mind ! i decided to share . please enjoy !

“ not again…” an exasperated sigh fell heavily from your lips like it weighed a thousand pounds . you were standing in front of your house , a small pile of books you had borrowed from the library squeezed against your chest as you looked at the fluorescent lights peaking out of the windows . the bass from inside your house reverberated throughout the neighborhood , and even from the outside , you could distinguish the faint sound of a pop song .

another college party .

your brother was a heavy partier , but you strongly disliked when he did those at home without even warning you first . you had a throbbing headache from having your nose in books all day , practicing for mid-terms . the last thing you needed were drunk college kids slurring around and music blaring in your ears .

rest , you needed rest .

options - doja cat ft JID

you pushed the front door to your house open and instantly wished you hadn’t . as if it was waiting for a chance to hit you , the sound of music rushed to you and assaulted your ears , making you wince back in surprise . “ im gonna kill this asshole,” you grumbled under your breath as you started pushing past the squeezing bodies that danced in the living room .

you stopped in the kitchen which seemed relatively empty , except for a flury of red hair moving between the fridge doors .

“ sasha ?” you called out over the music . the red-headed girl in question jumped in surprise , her head yanking up to smash directly against the frame of the fridge . the force of the action caused it to shake a little . she yelped out in pain . “ are you okay?” you quickly questioned with your hand slapped over your mouth to hold in a laugh .

“ im good , im good !” she quickly said as she stepped away from the fridge with a bottle of tostios’ spinach dip . “ you’re not here for the party , are you ?” she said , eyeing your outfit with an amused look on her face .

you obviously looked misplaced and you knew it . with your printed , pastel yellow high-waist pleated skirt , yellow oversized ‘ LEMON’ sweatshirt and knee high socks , you rather looked like you belonged browsing an empty aisle in a CD store or at barnes and nobles . – and honestly , you wish you were .

your style has always been the epitome of soft girl core , with small stickers adorning your cheeks and orange blush at the tip of your nose . your requirement was to look like a cute fairy nymph at all times .

you’ve been like this for as long as you could remember and before the trend gave it this name . your brother found it endearing , even though he’d mask it by poking fun at you . you didn’t care though , it gave you comfort .

“ where’s my idiot brother ?” you questioned . watching her prying open the bag of chips and scooping up some of the dip . a lot of it .

“ oh – he’s gone somewhere upstairs with katie “ she paused to swallow, “ you don’t wanna see him now…” she shook her head and you quickly caught on to her suggestion .

“ ew!” you grimaced . the last thing you wanted to think about was your brother…doing it .even though he was two years older and you were relatively close , one thing you didn’t want to know about was...this.

you shuddered softly and stepped forward to make way for the drunk couple that stumbled in with their mouth glued to each other in an intense make-out session . your mouth lifted in an annoyed expression while sasha shielded her face away like she had looked directly into the sun for too long , ‘ gross ! connie i dont wanna see this !’

you laughed softly at these two before deciding that your hunt for your brother was over . you just really wanted to sleep – as much as you could despite the music. “goodnight , sash ! and…connie ?” the last part came out like a question as the man seemed to be too preoccupied by the blonde he was kissing . you smiled at the waving sasha before making your way out again.

you inhaled again before diving back in the crowd , looking to reach the stairs that lead to your room . you got a few stares which you completely ignored , not wanting anything to do with drunk college boys . your eyes stayed focused ahead of you , giving the clear message that you weren’t here to have fun . you balanced the books against your chest as you went up the stairs and into the hallway . the sound of the music was considerably lower , but still bothersome . you walked past a few people making out in the hallway , your eyes focused on your white bedroom door at the end of the hall , holding your breath at the mere idea of finally finding solace – peace in your sanctuary . you lifted your knee to allow one arm to reach for the handle while the books took support against the other arm steadily . you twisted the doorknob and wasted no time to walk in your room , but what you saw nearly made you scream for help .

i was never there – the weeknd

in the middle of all your squishmellows , sprawled out , and in a seemingly deep sleep , laid a complete stranger . he wore black cargo pants , a white shirt and a black bomber . he slept comfortably on his back with a tattooed arm draped over his eyes , glossy lips slightly parted letting air through as his chest rose and fell softly . the shiny metal on his lip caught your attention , and you identified it as a snakebite piercing. the position had allowed his shirt to ride up his hips , the V lines showing a sinful path that curved and dipped down inside his Calvin boxers which were peaking out of his pants . the fairy lights above your headboard shone soft golden orbs on him , painting an ironic picture as he laid against your avocado-patterned comforter . you felt your throat closing , strangely aroused by the scene .

 you couldn’t stop the book avalanche even if you wanted to . the book on top slipped out of your grip , dragging down all the other ones with it and  they subsequently hit the ground with a loud thud . ‘

“shh ! shh !” you tried hushing the book as if they were alive as you knelt on the floor to pick them up . the sleeper immediately froze at the sound before he quickly sat up , his messy bun almost coming undone at the abruptness of his reaction. he stared at you through confused , tired eyes before realization hit him . “ oh shit !” he croaked out , voice deep from his tiredness as he sank on the floor to help you pick them up .

“ w-who are you ?” you questioned while looking down , feeling the tip of your ears go red . why are you even getting shy ? he’s the one in your room .

“ eren. “ the stranger you know as eren held out a small pile of books towards you . you didn’t look at him directly . “you ?”

you mumbled out your name.

his green eyes peeked at one of books he held and a thick eyebrow scrunched in confusion , “ differential …equations…?” the confusion was evident in his tone as his head tilted to decipher the picture on the book cover . a few strands of hair fell above his eyes .

“ applied mathematics major ,” you answered after having swallowed the ball of anxiety that had settled in your throat .

his emerald eyes widened in surprise before a small smirk lifted the corner of his lips , “ for real ? damn . “ you were used to this reaction . most people thought you studied theater or fashion because you always looked like you could be in a winx club live action .

“you ?” you asked back . quickly taking the books from him and dropping them on your lap , the impact causing your thick thighs to jiggle softly . eren did not seem to miss this action , his eyes lasting a minute longer on the sight before looking up at you . you subconsciously thought of the typical college fuckboy majors; business , or music...

“ literature.” it was your turn to show surprise , and the boy chuckled softly at your expression . you couldn’t help but notice how white his teeth were .

“ah…” was your answer . you wanted to slap yourself for losing your social skills for a minute , but you were just too tired to handle so many emotions and words at the same time .the boy only chuckled in response , his hand brushing back the bangs that only managed to fall over his eyes again . “you don’t seem convinced .”

miss you – oliver tree , robin schulz

“i’m not,” you answered honestly , a small smile of your own dancing on your lips , “ you look like you study…”

“ business ? music ?” he took the words right out of your mouth as he stood up , extending his hand down towards you . you were suddenly taken aback by how tall he was and how he seemed to command all the attention in the room . you blushed when you realized how close you were to his thigh and quickly grabbed onto his hand to stand up , except he pulled you up harder than you expected and you crashed against his chest . the smug look on his face told you he did it on purpose . your chin rested against his chest , slowly assessing the height difference between you two .

for a moment , his eyes seemed to have darkened into something more primal before they softened again , a smirk curling his lips upwards , “ and you didn’t strike me as a maths major either . “

you rolled your eyes , feeling slightly offended . you turned around and stepped out of his embrace towards your desk , suddenly feeling chilly. you knew it was your insecurities hitting at you – people always had a hard time believing you were smart and it pissed you off . however , you had long moved passed this – or so you thought . how did eren manage to set you off so easily ? it wasn’t even that bad .

he felt the cold air coming from you and raised his hand in defense , “ hey , hey . not saying there's anything wrong with that , you know ? i wouldn’t be able to half of what they do anyway, “ a small smile drew on your lips at his attempt to reprimand . “ plus,” he added as you arranged your books on your desk in no particular order to distract you from your wild pulse , “ its ‘cause you’re really cute . in a…forest pixie kind of way…”

love lost – mac miller , the temper trap

a small giggle broke from you , “makes sense . thanks. “ you answered , bending forward a bit to work your sneakers out of your feet while holding onto the table . the cold air hit the cheeks of your ass which was unknowingly protruding out of your skirt and you heard a sharp breath being drawn behind you .

when you turned around , eren almost looked like he wanted to pounce on you . you cleared your throat gently , feeling blood rush to your lower stomach like molten lava .

“ what do you do in literature anyway ? analyze Shakespeare’s attachment issues ?” this ripped a laugh out of eren . his laugh was even more attractive than his smile - it chimed pleasantly in your ear , sounding boyish but deep .

“ good point . but we did study him a lot .” 

you arched an eyebrow and smirked , “ what’s your favorite quote by him , then ?” you asked challengingly , not really expecting him to answer . you just wanted to mock how boys challenged you whenever you expressed interest in something unconventional . eren shrugged before lifting his eyes towards the ceiling in a small moment of contemplation.

“ love is not love which alters when it’s alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. it is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on tempests, and is never shaken.” he finished the last part , teal eyes boring into your soul .” my favorite author is bell hooks , though.” he added with a small smile .

to say that you were taken aback was an understatement . the tattooed stranger that broke into your room just spoke the most meaningful words in the softest , yet firm tone you’ve heard. you wanted him to recite poems to you over and over.

the two of you stayed silent before you looked towards your bed and back at him . “ uhm…what are you doing in my room , anyway ?” you decided to address the elephant in the room which you should’ve obviously done a while ago .

“ oh , uh i was looking for a bed to crash and sober up and your room smelled good ... like strawberries .” he explained and looked at your bed and the array of squishmellows decorating it with a look that seemed endearing . “ not gonna lie , it’s the most comfortable sleep i’ve ever had .” he said and you smiled with pride knowing that you had invested a lot of money into making yourself the softest , most comfortable bed ever .

“ but , i can leave if you want...” his voiced trailed off as if hoping you would say no - which you did . “ i mean you can stay a while more...”

“ hell yeah ! “ he cheered and let himself fall back on the bed which allowed him to bounce back a few times before he grabbed one of your blue axolotl squishmallows and pressed it against his face . you laughed softly , oddly proud that someone loved your bed so much . your friends always loved staying in your room when they came over, but it’s the first time a stranger - who seemed so different from you expressed such content from being here .

you plopped down on the bed and brought your knees to your chest , looking up down at your hands while you chipped away at your pastel nail polish . eren pulled the plush down slowly , green eyes peeking over at you. “what ?” you asked feeling your face heat up uncontrollably. “ you’re cute. “ he simply said with a smirk before looking up at the ceiling . 

you bit your lip from stopping your smile from spreading too much . “you’re flattering me .” you replied as you looked down at your thighs which seemed to have been more exposed than you thought . the elastic at the hem of your thigh-highs sank slightly into your skin , squishing it out in a way that seemed more lewd than you intended . you quickly reached to pull your skirt down but ring-covered fingers pressed against your thigh , the cold metals sending chills down your spine as he blocked your action. 

“no.” he said in a semi-commanding tone . “ they look great.” you could see the intensity in his eyes as he looked at you and moved his hand away after letting it slide down a bit leaving a burning path from where he touched you .

your heart was beating inside your ears at this point and you needed a distraction . “where are your friends anyway... or girlfriend ?” you bit your lip .

white tee - summer walker

this was a bait to see if he had any girl in his life , which , why wouldn’t he ?

“they’re all drunk and annoying right now...and don’t have one” he answered the last part with a smirk on his lip as he looked at you teasingly , long and thick eyelashes that curled at the corner giving him a gracious aura . “ why ? wanted to know if position was empty? “ he asked in a teasing tone .

“ you’re such an ass!” you whined , pushing him with soft laugh to mask your embarrassment at the fact that you were, in fact , checking. eren chuckled and reached towards your face , pointing at one of the stickers adorning your eyes . you understood that he wanted it , so you pulled a little star and placed it against his hand .eren looked at it like it was the first time he’s even seen a sticker.

a small silence settled between you two as you played with your fingers . 

“ what about you ?” he suddenly asked after his silent contemplation . 

“ nope !” 

“damn...how ?” he asked , genuinely confused and you shrugged in response , “ they’re not business majors “ you replied teasingly which made him release another amused laugh . the vibration shocks throughout your body .

eren looked at you silently , bangs brushing agains his long lashes which clearly annoyed him . he tried swatting them away but it never worked . you giggled softly and motioned for him to come closer to you , “ come here,”  you told him as you removed one of the hairclips that held your ponytail . 

eren obediently scooted closer to you , resting his cheek against your thigh while his hand palmed at either sides of them . “ is that okay ?” he asked . to have the hottest boy you’ve seen resting on your lap ? 

YES , YES , YES , YES !!!

“ sure “ you answered and he simply closed his eyes with a content smirk on his lips . you were ready to combust as you reached down , brushing the soft strands of his dark hair away from his face and slicked it back into his messy bun before sliding the hairclip over it and securing it . you smiled as you looked at him . what a contrast it was - this edgy , tattooed man with a strawberry hair clip in his hair . he didn’t seem to care either . 

“i’d eat you out real good right now .” the words he let out almost made you choke on air. he opened his eyes looking back at you and he was dead serious.

the man let out a laugh at your expression before closing his eyes again , his lustful expression suddenly gone like it was never here . “ don’t worry , i won’t.”

you probably looked at him like he grew two heads . you didn’t say anything back , your stomach in knots. he was so hot , it hurt . would you really pass up an opportunity like this ? when the last time you even got laid ? this time by the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on .

“what if i want you to...?” you attempted back , voice coming out small but hopeful . 

suddenly the hands that were resting so softly against your thighs tightened their grip and eren smirked at he lifted his head . “good girl”  he praised

you gasped softly as he pushed your back to the bed , your cunt throbbing uncontrollably . he parted your legs and knelt between them , his erection pressing against your thigh . he felt so hard . you bit down your lip , feeling your wetness spill out . “ wanted to eat that pussy the second i saw you on that floor...” he admitted , his voice low and guttural . his fingers pulled your panties down and hooked your legs over his broad shoulders . his fingers separated your puffy folds , exposing your pussy completely to the cold air . you bit down your lip , letting out a needy whine causing your tiny hole to clench around nothing and eren nearly felt his mouth water . “shit...” he breathed before sticking his tongue out , letting fingers collect the saliva on them before rubbing them on your bare folds . you didn’t need any lubrification , but he just wanted his spit on you . he was convinced he’d never seen a pussy like this . he was about to dip his head down and eat you like a caveman when you stopped him mid-action. 

“eren ?” you asked , blushing beet red . he was confused but paused to listen , hoping you didn’t want him to stop already . “ c-can you tell me another poem ?” the man couldn’t help the smile on his face. “ you wanna be talked to while getting your pretty pussy eaten ?” he mused before nodding, “ of course, princess. “

he dipped down between your thighs , his hot tongue sliding down your folds .

“by my soul,”

his hands squeezed your thighs around his head even more , like he wanted be suffocated . you moaned out at the delicious contact of his tongue gliding down to your hole. 

“ i can neither eat”

his lips closed around your clit , his piercing brushing against it making your body jolt on the bed. “eren !”

“drink”

his lips sucked on one of your labia folds before releasing it. “fuck - eren !”

“nor sleep;”

he lifted his head and ran the flat of his tongue against your whole cunt before moving his head sideways to place kisses on your inner thighs , his warm breath fanning soothingly over your skin .

“nor– “ a finger dipped in your hole , slowly thrusting in and out. you screamed his name again, body shaking on the bed, “,what’s still worse , ” he placed another kiss against your pussy ,

“love any woman in the world but her.”

his head dipped down again, and this time, he wouldn’t stop eating you out. you felt pleasure ripple through your body in delicious waves as your eyes closed and you let yourself go . the last thing you saw between your thighs was his dark glossy hair and the strawberry hairclip that held his bangs together .

[girasollake]

Hello

Would you be able to write for Theodore Nott with the trope fake dating and the prompt 50?

Thank youu <3

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x fake dating x "my love language is bullying people." "you bully me. a lot." "..."✧

( this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

❁ i hope this turned out well, happy reading:)

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Pacing around your dorm and chewing on your thumb, you tried to figure out how to get out of the situation you got yourself into. You didn’t mean to answer the question with his name, it just happened. It’s like you weren’t even thinking and your mind made that quick decision for you.

For the last month your ex boyfriend had been harrasing you to get back together. You dumped him after catching him in the act with a girl from a year below yours. You felt anger, sadness and loath, not because of the relationship he decided to end, but because it hurt to see someone you started to trust - pick someone over you.

Over the time he was stalking you and trying various ways to get back, you had found yourself being more and more drawn towards your best friend’s mate.

“ ‘We’re done Patrick! I don’t know what I have to say for it to get through your fucking skull.’ You hissed at your ex.

‘We’re not done.’ He took a step closer. ‘Do you really think someone else will want you besides me?’ A chuckle escaped his lips.

You stood there frozen, the insult burning itself into your mind.

‘My boyfriend.’ You finally replied after a moment of silence.

‘You don’t have one, love.’ He placed his finger under your chin and made you look up at him. ‘But you can have me again.’

‘No.’ You spat and took a step back. ‘I am seeing someone else.’

That’s the moment where you should have stopped talking.

‘Oh, really?’ He cocked his brow, a mocking expression on his face. ‘Who?’

Don’t say it.

Don’t say it.

‘Theo Nott.’ “

You sat down on your bed, the finger slightly covered in your blood from the biting. You had only two options, either admit to your ex that you lied to him and still get harrassed by him, or ask Nott out.

You rubbed your temples slowly, sighed and decided to go to the library to clear your mind, hoping that Patrick won’t be able to talk to Theo until tomorrow.

At this time of the day there was barely anyone inside the library. You were slowly walking between the shelfes, looking at each book and reading the title. After a few minutes of strolling you reached the Romance Novels section, very few books there, but it lured you in. Especially one of them, which you have read a long time ago.

‘Of course.’ You chuckled, holding the book in your hands and tracing the cover with your fingers.

The story was about a woman who was a spy and had to make a deal with a member of an organisation they were infiltrating. She promised to get him the safety he needed to escape his boss and he promised her to give her all the information she needed. They started fake dating.

You should’ve thought of this idea earlier, but you were too stressed to even sit in one spot, let alone think of this good of a plan. You put the book back in it’s place and rushed out of the library. While you were running through the halls, you spotted a familiar figure talking with her friends.

‘Hi, can I borrow Pansy for a moment? Thanks!’

You snatched her by the arm and led her to an empty classroom.

‘This better be an emergency.’ She playfully rolled her eyes.

‘Long story short - Patrick thinks I’m dating Theo and I have to prove him that I am.’

She looked at you dumbfounded and then a loud laugh escaped her lips.

‘Is this a joke?’ She asked, laughter still present in her voice.

It slowly faded as she realised how stoic and serious was the expression on your face.

‘Shut up!’ She exclaimed. ‘Merlin, what have you done?’

She put her palm on her forehead and exhaled all the air she had.

‘You know Theo does NOT date.’

‘I know! I don’t even know why I said his name! It just… It just came out, okay?’ You sighed and closed your eyes while throwing your head back. “But I do have an idea…’ you mumbled and slowly opened your eyes to look at Pansy.

‘Good Lord.. I don’t know if I even want to hear it.’ She sighed. ‘Go on.’ She showed a motion with her hand to tell you to proceed.

‘Fake dating.’

She bursted out in laughter.

‘What?’ She finally managed to get out. ‘How on earth do you want to persuade him into that?’

‘I’ll just… I’ll offer him something if he says no.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know yet, whatever he says he’d like.’

‘So like, you’d give him a b-‘

‘Bloody hell Pans!’ You whisper-yelled. ‘I’ll do anything that does not involve sexual exchange.’

‘Alright, just askin’’ She raised her hands in defence.

‘Where can I find him?’

It was Saturday, so you couldn’t catch him in class. Pansy looked at her watch and made a thinking face.

‘Ummm… If I’m correct…’ She sighed. ‘They should finish their quidditch practice in a few minutes.’

You jumped up and gave her a quick hug before running out.

‘Thanks P, you’re the best!’ You shouted just before disappearing behind the door.

‘Course I am.’ She whispered and smirked to herself.

She looked around the room where she was now alone and shook her head.

‘Fingers crossed’ She muttered and headed outside.

You on the other hand, had reached the quidditch pitch in the right moment. Standing outside the boys locker room, you couldn’t help but listen to their faint voices. Unfortunately it was too quiet for you to make out any words. The door swung open unexpectedly and your head shot up to meet Draco’s eyes.

‘Can I talk to Nott?’ You asked and lifted up your chin higher.

Draco looked you up and down and then turned his head towards the boys.

‘Nott, come and say hi to one of your girls.’ He said and everyone started snickering at Theo.

‘Shut up, Malfoy.’ He glared at him and then your eyes met his.

He came over to you and you almost forgot about why you came here because, well, he was shirtless and his bottom was wrapped in a towel, leaving very little to your imagination. You gulped and quickly straightened up to not get caught checking him out.

‘I really need your help with something. Can we talk after you…’ You motioned towards his outfit, or better - the lack of it.

He cleared his throat and nodded, ‘Wait for me on the pitch?’

‘Sure.’ You gave him a soft smile and headed outside.

Thankfully there was a few benches on the sides of the pitch, they were there during practice, but hidden when there was a match. You sat down and buried your face in your hands.

‘What the fuck am I doing?’ You mumbled.

You started playing with your rings and thinking about what to say when you felt him sit down next to you.

‘So, what do you need?’ He asked while lighting up his cigarette.

‘Just don’t laugh at me, ‘kay?’ You said while closing your eyes.

He furrowed his brows in confusion, ‘Okay?’ He replied.

‘I need you to be my fake boyfriend.’ You quickly stated.

He looked at you dumbfounded and then proceeded to laugh.

‘You said you wouldn’t laugh, you bastard!’ You exclaimed and playfully hit his arm.

‘ ‘M sorry’ He met your eyes. ‘That punch hurt’ he held the place where you hit him.

‘Good.’ You replied. ‘So, will you help me or not?’

‘Why? Is it to make your ex jealous?’ He exhaled the smoke. ‘Never liked him, if I’m bein’ honest.’

‘Actually, the opposite.’ You took the cigarrete from him, took a drag and then placed it between his lips again. ‘He cheated on me and now he keeps stalking me to get back together. I’m so sick of him and I just don’t know what to do.. I just want him to fuck off.’ You looked at Theo for a response.

‘Fine.’

‘Wait, really?’ You asked excitedly.

‘Yeah, fuck that guy.’ He finished his cigarette and threw it on the ground. ‘We need some rules though.’

‘Alright.’ You paused to think about some. ‘How about we often hold hands, you kiss me on the cheek sometimes for the effect, and we can sometimes hang out in each others rooms, so no one would get suspicious. Of course we’d like study or some shit, but..’ You started rambling. ‘You get the idea.’ You added quietly.

‘You forgot about the most important one.’ He stated. ‘Don’t fall in love with me.’

‘Yeah, I think that’ll be easy considering your stupid face.’ You chuckled, but inside of you something twisted.

Don’t fall in love with me? Does he mean that, he knows he would never love you? Maybe that’s why he agreed? Cause he knows he won’t fall for you?

Am I this unlovable?

The next morning you were slowly making your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. On the outside you looked calm, but the inside was burning. With questions you couldn’t answer, with plans for what to do, with your hopes for finding someone good to love you back, with your growing attraction to Theo. You knew it was a bad idea, you knew you had a crush on him, but you’d rather hide that somewhere deep than admit it to yourself. You knew you were going to fall for him doing this, but if that’s what it takes for Patrick to leave you alone - then so be it. You can take the pain of Theo not reciprocating your feelings.

‘Hello, love.’ The voice from your nightmares spoke up next to you.

‘Fuck off, Patrick.’ You replied without even looking at the boy.

‘Oh, come on, can you finally stop playing this game and-‘

‘She told you to fuck off.’ You heard Theo’s voice on your other side and then his hand grabbed your waist to pull you closer.

Patrick’s face in that moment was going to be in your memory forever, he was so shocked, so defeated, so small. He looked between the two of you and scoffed.

‘We’ll see about that.’ He mumbled and walked away.

‘Thank you’ You looked up at Theo.

‘For what? I think that’s what boyfriend’s are supposed to do’ He winked at you and intertwined your hands.

‘You read a book or something to prepare for that role? Didn’t think of you as an academic type.’ You snickered.

‘I beg you pardon?’ He chuckled. ‘Am I that stupid to you?’

You waved your head from side to side and smirked at him.

‘Mm, yeah.’ You whispered to which he shook his head with a smile.

‘Come on, darlin’, we’re gon’ be late for breakfast.’

Darling.

For the next month you and Theo had gotten closer than you anticipated, but he was still too far for your liking. You wanted him closer, you wanted this to be a real relationship, but he wouldn’t want that.

“Theo does NOT date.”

Pansy’s words echoed in your ears every time you caught yourself staring at his messy hair. Or thinking about the way his fingers caressed the pages of a book, or the way his beauty spots were perfectly placed on his face, or the way he always knew what to say to you, or the way he cheerfully reacted to your insults and playful smacks on his arms.

‘When do you want to end this?’ He asked one night when you were studying for potions in his dorm.

The question caught you off guard and the air got stuck in your throat for a second.

‘I actually didn’t think about that part yet.’ You admitted, not taking your eyes off of your notes. ‘There is only a month of school left until holidays, so maybe until then? I’ll have those months for myself without Patrick bothering me and next year we’ll make up some excuse why it didn’t work out between us. Sounds good?’ The lack of emotion in your voice was weird for him.

‘Yeah.’ He whispered, his eyes lingering on your form. ‘Sounds good.’

He didn’t want to admit to himself that he started falling for you either. That’s why he asked about this, he didn’t think he could hold himself back much longer. Hold his feelings back.

‘Earth to Nott!!’ You smacked his arm with your notebook. ‘Do the bloody homework or I’ll feed you to my cat.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

There were moments where you thought he might feel the same. Like when he held your hand tighter than usual, when Patrick was passing by. Or when he kissed your forehead to calm you down when you were stressed before classes. Or the subtle smirks and glances between the two of you, when you weren’t next to each other. At first you thought no one would believe in your ‘relationship’, but surprisingly everyone didn’t have a clue it was fake. Were you both this good at pretending or did they just think you look nice together?

‘Probably the first one.’ You thought.

Soon there was only a week of school left and you didn’t want to think about what the end brings. You felt sadness, but you couldn’t show him that, you knew he didn’t feel the same. This was just temporary, he did what you asked for and now you owe him a favor. So now you had to let him go.

You met up near the Black Lake the day before going home. You were playing with your rings again and he was smoking a cigarette, just like in the beggining.

‘We’re still going to be friends?’ You asked.

‘If that’s what you want, darlin’ ‘ He replied, but deep inside he wanted to say no, to protect himself from whatever it was he felt towards you, it was too strong now.

‘Hmm.. No, not really.’ You muttered and then added, ‘I can’t stand looking at your hideous face much longer, but other than that, you’re fine to be around.’

He chuckled at your response.

‘Why are you always like this?’

‘What do you mean?’ You raised one of your eyebrows.

‘You know exactly what I mean.’

You chuckled to yourself, ‘My love language is bullying people.’

He processed your answer carefully and saw the way you stiffened. You didn’t realise you said that out loud.

‘Well…’ He took a deep breath. ‘You bully me. A lot.’

You didn’t want to meet his eyes so you shrugged and turned away, ‘Yeah, I guess I do.’ You whispered.

You heard Theo toss the cigarette on the ground and press his shoe on top of it. But what he did next, even Professor Trelawney couldn’t predict.

He turned you around and pressed his lips into yours, the taste of smoke and blueberry gum made its way into your mouth. His hands were holding your face on both sides, he didn’t want to take them off, scared you’d disappear if he did.

‘I thought you don’t date.’ You whispered with a smirk when you broke the kiss and pressed your foreheads together.

‘I don’t.’ He smiled. ‘I’m already taken.’

He pressed his lips to yours again and you felt like this moment could last forever.

‘By the way, you broke the rule.’ He mumbled.

‘Fuck your rule and fuck you, Nott.’ You replied making him smile to himself.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

© girasollake 2023

[wqnwoos]

kwon soonyoung is hopeless at subtlety.

when a guy who’s never touched a book that wasn’t absolutely necessary for an exam suddenly starts lingering around the campus library, it becomes noticeable. it becomes more noticeable when it’s soonyoung, as the popular dance captain and renowned party thrower that he is.

hell, even you’ve noticed, and you’re usually miles and miles away, in a world of your own. when you’re not helping students find books or scanning out their required readings, you’re sitting behind the student librarian desk reading your own books, or studying, or, in some of your lesser moments, scrolling through tiktok. you don’t pay too much attention to who comes in and out, but the thing about soonyoung is that he demands attention.

not him himself, that would be obnoxious. but it’s the bleached hair, and handsome features, and just the fact that he seems to know everyone around here. so yeah, his face becomes recognisable with each day he skulks into the library, dithering between shelves that you never would have assumed held his interest.

today, however, is the first day he actually borrows a book. he waltzes up to the counter carrying, surprisingly, a jane austen — persuasion. which is only one of the greatest novels ever written, but you restrain yourself from blurting that out, instead asking for his name and typing it in.

he’s quieter than you’ve seen him be, around campus with his friends. gentle, almost — shy, too, with the way his cheeks pink when you repeat his name, and the way he drums his fingers nervously on the book.

a moment later, your brows are furrowing at the words that pop up. “um. soonyoung? it says here you last borrowed a book… three years ago. and you didn’t return it.”

the boy in front of you practically goes scarlet. “shit,” he curses, quiet but emphatic. “which book?”

you cast another glance to the computer screen. “um, diary of a wimpy kid. cabin fever.”

he passes one hand over his embarrassed face; it seems that a meagre amount of words is enough to reduce him to a fumbling mess. he drops persuasion, picks it up, slides it back over to you, and, with a strained voice, says, “i’ll find it! i’ll bring it tomorrow. cross my heart.”

and, much to your surprise, ten minutes before you shift ends the next day, kwon soonyoung is running breathlessly through the library double doors; he meets your eyes and brandishes a battered looking copy of cabin fever with a triumphant grin and needless declaration;

“i found it!” he drops it with a satisfying thunk, and you can’t help the amused smile that breaks out onto your face. “you won’t believe where it was,” he continues, shaking his head. “it’s probably best if i don’t even tell you — anyway!” he cuts himself off before you can think too deeply about what that means. “do i have to pay a fine?”

“no,” you say, and bring forward the copy of persuasion he’d been eyeing yesterday. “do you still want this, by the way? i kept it to the side in case you came back for it.”

he beams, and it’s like the sun’s in front of you: bright, warm, lovely. “you did? thank you, ___. actually… you finish up in a few minutes, right?”

“i — yes,” you say slowly, squinting at him. “how do you know that?”

“i’ve been coming here every day for two and a half weeks trying to get the courage to talk to you, and i accidentally memorised your schedule doing that,” he admits with a shameless grin. before you can even process that, he’s suddenly looking a lot shyer; but he taps the cover of the book between you, and continues: “so, um, could i… persuade you to get a coffee with me?”

you can’t help it — you laugh, much louder than library regulations allow, but you can’t bring yourself to care when soonyoung is looking at you, half-hopeful, half-sheepish. “did you pick this book just to — ”

“yes,” he interjects, cheeks flushing. “i was desperate!”

you pretend to consider. “so… you’re not an austen fan?”

“i am if you are,” he says instantly.

again, you laugh, but this time you add an answer. “in that case,” you say, lips curving upward. “i’d love to get a coffee with you.”

an / requested by the lovely lovely @etherealyoungk !! hope u like it skye &lt;3

taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

[thomasisaslut]

Headmaster!Severus Snape x F!Reader

Headmaster

Word Count: 2.1k

Includes: Spit as Lube, Hair Pulling, Desk Sex, Oral (M), Riding.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49138675

On Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/348717760-𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬-𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐞-𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

Not my bot but it helped inspire this fic!

C.ai Bot: https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=YH2uNinywjmIoi_8I-8SZoRbZ1k2_LhQ1qg7qUL8Cv4

You reach the office door and knock, you hear a deep voice say "enter" from the other side of the door and slowly push it open, your hands folded behind your back as you fiddle with them anxiously.

Snape's dark eyes flick up from his mound of papers to you.

"What do you want?" He speaks in a sharp and cutting tone.

"I was wondering if I could borrow a restricted book, sir." You state quickly.

His eyes scan you up and down before he sighs and speaks again.

"Which and why."

You inform him which restricted book—it's one for potions so you hope he would understand since he was the old potions master.

"Okay..." He looks back at his paper. "And why do you need it, Ms. [Last Name]?"

"I've been studying potions a lot more recently, I think I want to pursue a career in it when I graduate this year, sir."

He nods, "And why do you need a restricted book? There are other potion books above the 8th year curriculum that are not restricted."

"I know, sir, but I have already read all of those books."

Snape's eyes narrow, clearly skeptical of your answer.

"All of them?" He chuckles dryly, "There are well over 100 books on potions that you 8th years have access to for this exact reason and you're telling me you have already read all them?" He looks you up and down again.

You nod, "Yes, sir. That is exactly what I'm saying." You look nervous but your words don't lie—you have read all of them.

He glares at you, "Fine, but... you may only use the book in my presence, report back here once you retrieve it." He snaps.

Quickly you flee the room and run to the library, once there you inform the librarian about the books approval—they already knew you were asking, plus they might've smuggled it for you if Snape said no—they hand you the book with a smile. You take the book then walk back to the Headmaster's office with the book clutched against your chest closely. 

Snape's eyes look up at you when you return, he motions to a small black leather couch a few feet from his desk. You walk over to it and sit down, a small coffee table was before it and you place the book down before opening it. Opening your bag you pull out a notepad, reading the first page you feel eyes on you but you don't dare to look his way—well—until he spoke.

"You seem prepared." Snape says.

You nod, not daring to say a word to him.

Your work session continues for the next hour—you have never been this determined to work on something before, plus... you want to impress someone nearby.

"Ms. [Last Name" Your eyes dart to the voice, "Come here." Headmaster Snape said.

You stand from your spot on the couch and walk over, "Yes, sir?"

"What is the real reason you needed the restricted book?" He asks, his tone now more curious then aggressive.

"I told you the reason earlier, Headmaster..."

He sighs and nods, "Are you done studying?"

"I was going to read maybe.. two-three more pages?"

"Then do it. I want you to do something for me afterwards." Snape states.

Around 10 minutes pass and you walk back towards him, "What do you need, sir?"

"Organize this." He points to a stack of papers. "I'm not asking."

You look confused but do as told, organizing the papers you read a few—"by accident"—and you spot a newspaper... it was an article based off of a spell? That's odd... you quickly scan the paper—"Laetus" the spell is called. You continue to read the paper and see it's an arousal spell.

"What are you reading." Snape's tone is demanding.

"J-Just one of the newspapers..."

"Well hurry up and finish those." He rolls his eyes and goes back to his work.

Around 10 minutes later you finish the work and then walk back over to Snape's desk.

"Which newspaper did you read." His tone is still a sharp as before.

"There was one about a new spell... L.. Laetus?"

In that moment you feel your wand buzz from your sheath. You quickly look down at it and see.. you cast the spell.

You look back over to Headmaster Snape, his cheeks now have faded from the usual pale color to a deep red, his eyes instead of narrow now open in shock and hazy, his tense lips now slightly parted.

"You idiot!" He shouts but covers his lip with the back of his hand—muffling a whimper.

"Oh my- sir, I'm so sorry!" You say panicked, rushing over by his side—he grabs the collar of your shirt and attempts to glare at you.

"What were you thinking saying that spell aloud while holding your damn wand!" He shouts.

"I-I wasn't-"

"Clearly." He interrupts, he then groans. "Fix the problem you made, what's the reversal."

You quickly scramble to get the newspaper again, when you have the paper your face drops.

"What is it? What is the reversal?" He snaps.

You tense.

"There is none... well- there is but..."

"Well what is it!" Snape exclaims.

"Sex."

His face falls flat, his anger almost vanishing into pure shock.

"Excuse me?"

"That is what the reversal is, headmaster.." You mumble.

He stares at you in shock. You open your mouth to say something when he speaks again.

"So fix your mistake."

You are now the one in shock, your jaw drops slack and your eyes widen.

"What?"

"You're in your 8th year meaning, you're around 19? About to move on into adulthood, you should know to own up to your responsibilities."

"Responsibility? This was a mistake!"

"Then let me rephrase this, consequence." He smirks.

He can't mean..

"Well..." He grunts and stands, walking over to your and cupping your chin, your smaller frame forced to look at his larger one.

"Get to work."

He means it...

You sink to your knees before the man, your eyes looking up at him as you place your hands on his belt—You feel his pants twitch—quickly undoing the buckle, undoing the fly, then sliding his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion.

"Good, now suck."

Your eyes widen at his cock, it's at least 7 whole inches, the pink-tan mushroom head is leaking with pre and even if this is a consequence of your action you have absolutely zero regrets, perhaps casting that spell was on purpose.

You give his cock an experimental stroke, earning a low groan from your headmaster. You smirk and stroke him again, he pulls the back of your hair so you're looking up at him again.

"I said suck, not toy." He glares down at you, the smirk vanishing off your face.

Your hand strokes him once more before you touch your tongue to his tip, you then take in the first inch of his cock. You look up at him, his free hand on his face as he tilts his head back, that only encourages you. You move your mouth further down his dick, three inches now in lodged in your mouth.

"Ah... fuck. Good girl." He murmurs under his breath.

You moan around his cock, your knees aching as you scoot closer to him to take in more of his cock, sliding him into your mouth he hits the back of your throat—but that's only half his cock. He softly moans, the hand in your hair tightening as he pushes his cock further down your mouth, now sliding into your throat. By now 5 inches are in your throat, your hand moves from his hip to the base of his cock, toying and playing with his balls as he fucks your throat at a harsh but pleasureful pace.

Your head continues to bob on his cock—it hits the back of your esophagus each time, you're sure his head will leave a mark when he's done slamming.

"Take it." He says before his load shoots down your throat.

You swallow it, choking on his lengthy cock in the process. He then slides out of your mouth, his cock parting your lips ever so slightly, Snape moves his hand from your scalp and places it on your chin—still smirking.

"I still feel the effects of the spell, Ms. [Last Name]." His eyes dart to his chair before he sits on it, he then pats his lap—his cock bouncing at the vibration.

You stand from your spot on the floor, your knees throbbing from the tiled floor. You wobble over to him, taking your spot on his lap—straddling him.

"Your panties, strip." He demands.

You go to remove your shirt first when he smacks away your hands.

"Panties."

You move awkwardly, your head by his ear as you lift your thighs, sliding off your panties and tossing them to the floor before the chair—Snape makes quick work of your position, grabbing your hips and lining you with his cock.

"W-Wait.. shouldn't we use prepare?"

"You sucked my cock, it's lubed."

"It'll hurt!" You whine.

"Then it's a fitting punishment." He smirks, tightening his grip on your hips then he slams into you—his entire 7 inches now inside of your tight cunt. 

You moan ecstatically, even with the burn of the impact it felt phenomenal. He waits a few seconds before thrusting up his hips, your own meet his rocks—now grinding against him as you ride him.

He sways his hips in the chair, the movement stretching your pussy wider than the original insertion already was.

"You're doing so well." Severus says quietly.

This only makes you grow wetter, you lift your hips and slam back down—a loud moan was drawn from both of you.

Suddenly you feel his hips stop moving, you look at him to see him smirking—your bottom lip pouts and you go to speak when he does.

"Your consequence..." He moans, your movements on his cock not stopping. "Is that you have to do all the work until I cum."

"And what about me?"

He chuckles, "That's the punishment, dear." He smirks then smacks your rear as you continue to move up and down.

You whimper but do as told, your thighs aching along with your knees—but you can't stop yourself, you're greedy and you want to use your headmasters cock as a dildo—and that is just what you are doing.

You move your thighs and hips, slamming your cunt—impaling—it on his cock, your movements becoming sloppy and uncoordinated as you continue. Severus tightens his grip on your hips once more, stabilizing you as you continue to rock on him.

"Please... I need to cum, sir!" You beg, your movements not stopping for a second.

"I'm almost there." He smirks, completely disregarding your satisfaction.

You whine and continue to move on his cock, your own release throbbing—needing to be let out. But it can't. You feel his hips buck as a sign he's close—quickly you bounce on his cock faster, you feel his 7 inch throb and pulse within you—finally, he releases inside you with a loud moan.

"[First Name]!" He shouts, his grip remaining firm on your hips.

"P-Please..." You stutter out, your own release building more and more, you're almost over the edge. When suddenly you feel his hands on your rear, he lifts you up then slams you on the staff desk, now pounding into you—the feeling is surreal. Severus slams into you until your cum squirts out, painting his cock with the fluid.

Headmaster Snape slowly slides out of your now stretched cunt, you whine at the loss of his cock. He slides his hands under your back and lifts you once again, he then gently places you on the seat he was previously in.

"Are you alright?" Severus asks, his hand cupping your cheek.

You nod and he pecks your forehead, he then walks over to a shelf behind the chair when he returns he hands you a small glass vial—you can tell from the bottles shape and the potions color it's an energy potion. You smile and take the potion in one gulp, your legs stop aching and your pants return back to regular breaths.

"Thank you." You smile and then stand from the chair, grabbing your panties and sliding them back on.

You then see Severus smirking.

"Something up?"

A brief silence passes before he speaks.

"What if I told you I knew a reversal spell?"

You smirk right back.

"I would've liked it all the same."

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (8/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 7.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: I hope you enjoy, I will add all the extra links later. Please please please let me know your thoughts you have no idea how much it helps me. Enjoy!

Prev | next

m.list | series m.list | wattpad

10 years ago.

You have circled around Dionysus Lake at least three times, in a failed attempt to calm your nerves. In all honesty you aren’t sure why you’re so nervous, it was a simple tutoring session with your friend's brother. Yet, the hammering in your heart and the pressure around your neck was impossible to ignore.

You know this has nothing to do with you finding him attractive. You can find someone attractive but not be attracted to them. Hence Jungkook. You know it has nothing to do with the fact that his meeting place of choice was the one cafe that was slightly out of the budget you set aside for iced coffees on the weekday.

What you do know is that it has everything to do with the fact that this is something new. A little hiccup in your perfectly curated daily routine. From now on every Tuesday and Thursday you will be meeting up with Kim Namjoon at seven o’clock at Serendipity Cafe. Who by some miracle will hopefully have you understanding the PEMDAS rules that you’re hundred percent sure we’re taught wrong to you. No more will be your days in which you stay at HYBE U’s seven floor library, cranking down on research or polishing essays after math class. No more will be your days that you decide that maybe it was time for some me time, and enjoy a nice long relaxing bath with different bath salts, bath bombs, and candles in an attempt to relax your racing thoughts and aching muscles.

No, now you have to squeeze in a half an hour walk after your algebra class to give yourself a breather. So, you don’t have to face your friend's brother all frazzled and annoyed that you have successfully sat through a math class without understanding a thing. Really, your nerves are really due to the fact that you don’t want to seem incompetent; but is it your fault that you’ve had incompetent math teachers or lack of math teachers throughout your academic year? It’s not your fault they couldn’t explain complex terms in a simple form. Or that they took advantage of the system to get close to younger children. You were cheated out of a decent understanding of math because the academic system simply worked against you.

It’s a thought you have been turning over and over in your head since you woke up this morning. You’ve been trying out every other excuse in the book.

“I’m sorry they had us do flawed computer programs in middle school instead of actually teaching us something.”

“You see I couldn’t really do my math homework growing up because I had ballet class at four until eight.”

“I’m actually really smart I just don’t understand how the fuck I have to apply an exponent when there’s a parenthesis involved.”

All of these excuses were dumb. A mask for the actual truth. Math was uninteresting, impalpable. It stayed constant and lacked excitement because you couldn’t see the puzzles laid out before you. That, and sometimes you sneakily read a book in the back of the class or whispered about the next big boy band with your equally as boy crazed friends Shalimar and Ruth.

Still, after your third wrap around Dionysus lake, you’ve decided that if questioned you’d just come clean.

“I’m stupid and I absolutely have no idea why we have to have letters and numbers mingle with each other.”

Hopefully he'll appreciate your honesty and grow a soft spot for you. At least that’s what you hope for. And you keep hoping for as you steadily approach the large wooden doors of Serendipity. There’s still about ten minutes until seven, but you figured you’d get there a bit early to grab a good seat. One in a section that’s quiet but not too quiet because the last thing you want while you sip on your peppermint tea is to be consumed by your overwhelming thoughts while you wait for your tutor.

You approach the counter, gripping the leather strap of your purse, going over your order in case you stumble upon your words due to pressure.

“Welcome to Serendipity whe—oh hey you’re Kookie’s girl.” The man behind the counter says in awe. While you cringe at the fact that you’re being referred to as Jungkook’s girl. You remember the doe eyed man referring to the man now wearing a button down with what seems to be condoms printed all over it as Hobi. Though his nametag states that his name is Hoseok. You try not to dwell on it for too long because he’s looking at you curiously. Probably wondering why you haven’t greeted him back or placed your order.

You shake your head, circling your moon shaped bag back to the front of your body, attempting to hide your discomfort. “Oh, hi, um, Jungkook’s just a friend.” You swallow, while he smiles in acknowledgement.

“I see, things are complicated. I get that.” He brushes you off before turning to the iPad in front of him. Before you can counteract with a ‘no it’s actually very simple, we share classes and he’s unfortunately picked me to annoy.’ He speaks up and gets right to the point. “What can I get you cutie?” He finishes, looking at you through his bangs.

The heat in your body erupts. No guy has ever been this forward with you but you’re positive this is just part of his customer service training. If he ever had one. Either way he’s talking you up and making you feel seen, which you assume is a specialty of his and probably why the cafe is crowded with many young adults.

With a grin you say. “Just a hot mint chocolate latte.” You nod in assurance before opening up your purse and taking out your wallet. When you fish your card out and go to swipe it across the reader a hand stops you. Startled, you look up to find Hobi or Hoseok smiling wide at you.

“No need, it’s already paid for.” He takes his hand away and gives you a white buzzer instead.

You furrow your brows in confusion. How has your drink already been paid for when you’ve just entered? You aren’t complaining, you did just save some money, but that small amount of happiness doesn’t mean that you aren’t confused.

The cashier seems to read your confusion and he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Namjoon paid for you earlier when he ordered his drink.”

“What?” You glance down at your phone to see the time. Did you get it wrong? The two of you agreed on seven, and you even confirmed it this morning through a quick text just to be sure. So, why does the analog clock on your phone read 6:55, and Namjoon has possibly already been waiting for you.

You curse under your breath and quickly put your wallet in your purse before turning around to look at the almost empty cafe. There’s only a couple of people occupying the circular tables. All of them fully immersed in their books or laptop screens. Namjoon is nowhere in sight. You look back at Hoseok—you’ve decided to refer to him as such since it’s what’s on his nametag—and he laughs at your confusion.

He lifts up a finger signaling up, “he’s on the second floor, got here about an hour ago.”

His statement doesn’t do anything but worsen the panic already coursing through your veins. Maybe you did misinterpret the time, still it wouldn’t make sense because wouldn’t he have texted you by now asking where you were?

“Um thank you…”

“Call me Hobi.” He waves a hand in front of your face. “Any friend or special friend of the boys gets the privilege to call me Hobi. Plus Hoseok—” He points to his nametag with a boney finger. “Sounds too serious.” He shrugs.

You nod your head. “Thank you Hobi.” You rush out the acknowledgement and turn around and speed walk to the industrial style spiral staircase.

It’s a dizzying journey up, but once you make it to the final step you spot the man that has your nerves at an all time high. He’s sitting in the far corner next to a floor to ceiling window. His back is hunched as he types away on his laptop. Today he’s ditched the beanie and you can see his dark brown hair. A few strands of his bangs sneak their way behind the thick rims of his black glasses. He’s wearing a simple gray long sleeve, with black sweatpants. He looks relaxed, the opposite of what you’re feeling because the thing you hate most in the world is keeping people waiting.

With quick steps you approach the table, halting when you get to the front of a chair. “I’m sorry, I thought we agreed on seven.” You rush out instead of a proper greeting. In a quick motion he lifts his head and takes off the earbuds inside his ears, and you feel like more of an idiot than before because of course he would be wearing noise canceling earbuds.

“Hey, you’re here. Did you order something? I told Hobi that I would just pay for what you wanted.” He grins and stands up, extending his hand for you in a handshake.

You put your hand in his and feel a shiver run down your spine when his cold one meets your clammy one. “Am I late?” You tilt your head to the side.

Namjoon shakes his head, and lets go of your hand before sitting down again. “No, you’re right on time. I just got here a bit early to get a head start on an essay due by the end of the week.” He reassures you, and finally you can let out the breath you had been holding in.

You feel calmer now. Relieved. You set down your stuff on an empty chair and take the seat directly in front of him. You place your white buzzer in front of you, tracing the circular ridges. Now, that you’re not in such a panicked state you can finally show your gratitude to his selfless actions. “Thank you for the drink, you didn’t have to pay for it.”

The busy man smiles and waves his hand in front of his face to brush you off. “It’s no big deal, Hobi gives me discounts anyway.”

“So, I’ve heard.” You whisper recalling the first night you met him a week ago. Since then, Jungkook snuck his brother’s phone number to you the next day at the library. He didn’t say anything, he just passed by you with a green drink from the only smoothie place on campus and a sticky note saying:

Text Namjoon, he’s forgetful. -JK

It took the whole day to muster up the courage but finally you sent a simple text regarding your name and the fact that his younger brother had been the one to sneak you his number. In case, he assumed you had gone through multiple deep dives on the internet to retrieve it. Thankfully, Namjoon didn’t question it and just replied with a simple greeting. Then the two of you got into a brief conversation that lasted about two days because you’re also forgetful and forgot to reply to his messages. Basically coordinating a plan further than the one you had discussed the first time you met.

It was strictly business. Yet, a part of you felt a little happy that you were meeting and talking to somebody new.

Just as you’re about to take out your small notebook and pen from your purse your buzzer comes to life, filling the spaces of silence in the air surrounding the two of you. Namjoon’s eyes tear away from his computer screen, and you’re about to stand up when he beats you to it. He quickly grabs a hold of the noisy device saying, “Don’t worry I got it,” and he disappears down the stairs.

You’re now sitting by yourself, wallowing in your over consuming thoughts. Most of them involve the story Jungkook told you about his very eventful weekend while the two of you were walking to your math lecture earlier today. Truly, it was so odd knowing that he had run into Taehyung at a club in the rich part of town. The two of them stayed together the entire night and even brought home two girls to Taehyung’s apartment. Thankfully, he didn’t share further than that, but he did share that he was in love. In which you rolled your eyes so hard it gave you vertigo.

In the few months that you have known the man. He has claimed that he has been in love with every single girl he’s slept with. Which surprisingly, given his flirty nature was not a lot. What was surprising to you was Taehyung being at the club. It’s not out of character for him, but Saturday nights were always spent at Jimin’s one bedroom apartment catching up on life, and binge watching One Piece. When his text message came through on Saturday evening saying that he wasn’t feeling very well and skipping out. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad because you hadn’t seen him in a while.

Taehyung was always out and about, chasing every new adventure he could grasp. He called it inspiration for his art, but you always knew there was another underlying reason. One he never cared to explain because in all honesty it only made sense to him. He was a tough book to get through. Sometimes it keeps you questioning why you even have a soft spot for it. Though, you suppose it is the backstory the two of you share. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt knowing he had chosen to not ditch you but Jimin as well.

The night wasn’t a bust and you managed to finally make a significant breakthrough on the anime. Twenty episodes in one night was something that needed to be awarded. It did feel a bit awkward when it was just the two of you. It was as if there was an invisible ceiling slowly crushing you, because on Saturday for the first time ever the two of you found yourself stuck. Nothing to talk about. No updates on life, only the sound of the anime doing its best to fill the void of Taehyung not being there that the both of you unspokenly felt.

It made you question a lot of things. Like was it maybe time to finally part ways? A chilling thought that sent shivers down your spine and one you pushed so far into the back of your head. One you really don’t want to think about now, especially when you’re about to succumb yourself to a full extra hour of torture. Otherwise known as: College Algebra.

“Hobi says that if you take a picture of his latte art to tag him if you post it.” Namjoon voices, placing a small tray in front of your open notebook. A white mug with a beautiful Jack O'Lantern drawn in white foam decorates the top of your warm decaffeinated latte. It’s impressive, surely puts all those swans and hearts to shame.

“He’s a big fan of Halloween, and he always says that fall time means it's Halloween everyday.” Namjoon finishes with a chuckle, as he takes the seat in front of you again.

You laugh a little, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your jean jacket. “I can get behind that.” You say as you click on the camera app and snap a couple of pictures.

Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon is watching as you rearrange the contents on the table. To get the right aesthetic for your perfect picture. He can’t lie, it's a little endearing, seeing somebody so excited over latte art he has grown accustomed to seeing. It’s something he will definitely spill onto Hoseok before he leaves. His friend was crazy talented in many areas and he hates that instead of sharing all his passions out with the world. He’s stuck running Serendipity because his grandfather wanted the neighborhood's hub to stay in the Jung family. When he should be out in the world sharing his clothing designs with anyone who’s willing to listen.

Namjoon’s thoughts are interrupted by your extended hand, holding out your phone for him. “What’s his instagram?” You grin, and his eyes make their way to the small phone screen. A beautifully taken picture, showing off the spooky pumpkin with a caption reading,

Halloween should be all year round @--

Namjoon lets out an ‘ah’ before taking your phone and quickly typing out his friend's handle. He reads the caption again, double checking to see if he made any mistakes, Halloween should be all year round @uramyhope.

He nods in approval and hands you back your phone. Deep down he feels a surge of something foreign. He can’t necessarily put his finger on it but regarding Hoseok’s statement when he first met you last week, when he asked both his brother and him for your number. He feels a little strange, knowing that he’s basically given the two of you a way to start communicating outside of him and Jungkook. Knowing the aspiring designer, he won’t miss a beat, and that makes him feel a bit odd.

He shrugs it off though, pushes away the churning in his stomach, concluding that it was because he chose to consume caffeine so late in the evening. He looks back at his computer screen, while you type away on your phone. He continues to ignore it, saves the document on his computer two times before closing the lid. He pushes it aside, and clears his throat, catching your attention.

Quickly you lock your phone and stuff it into the pocket of your jacket. You look over at Namjoon, his hands clasped in front of him and a scowl prominent on his face. It resembled the same one he transformed into the first night you met him. When he coldly stated he was done with blind dating thanks to his mother and step brother. Though, this time it does feel less intense, probably due to the fact that he knows you’re just here to be his tutee and not his future wife.

Still, it lets you know that time was ticking and it was finally time to get down to business.

“How have you gone on this long without understanding the basic principles of algebra?”

Namjoon is serious. He means business and you’re about to pull out the hair from your scalp.

“Maybe because I never had a permanent math teacher, they’d all leave in the middle of the year.” You pout, crossing your arms in front of you and slumping down in your seat.

He lets out a sigh before sliding your notebook to his side of the table. The metal spiral scratching against the wooden surface, letting out an unpleasant noise making you cringe.

“That’s a good excuse.” He says, grabbing his red pen and making all sorts of marks along the paper. You don’t need to know what steps you got wrong while solving the math problem. You know exactly where you went wrong. It was the second you signed up for the class even if you didn’t have much of a choice.

You groan, throwing your head back. “It’s not an excuse. My eighth grade teacher left in the middle of the year because she got pregnant, my ninth grade teacher unfortunately was diagnosed with cancer. Then my tenth grade teacher was accused of being a pedophile so he was fired an—“

“Okay,” Namjoon cuts you off, setting down his pen on top of your notebook. “I understand, your school was just shitty at keeping teachers around.” He grins, placing the notebook in front of you again. “But did you ever do your math homework?” He tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

Unfortunately you’ve been caught. “No,” you whisper, dragging your fingernail down the spiral.

The sound he lets out tells you enough. He’s proven his point with the sarcastic hum that escapes his mouth. “In my defense I had dance practice everyday after school from two to four and the ballet from five to eight.” You add but it does little to prove your innocence. Instead, it makes you look guiltier or maybe not you but your parents because who would choose an extracurricular activity over academics. Especially when they knew their daughter was absolute shit at math. They did try though, but even the math tutor they hired back in high school could not get through to you.

“I see,” he puts a pensive hand on his chin leaning back. The look he gives you makes you feel small. You can’t tell if he’s judging your upbringing or the you now who can’t seem to understand the simple PEMDAS rules.

“Your problem isn’t even that bad. It’s easy to fix. You know what each operation does. You just get confused with the order along the way.” He leans forward, picking up the pen and pointing to the problem you just finished doing. “You know to do parenthesis first, but then you forget that parenthesis don’t really go away. That’s your first mistake.”

It’s like a lightbulb has suddenly flicked on inside your head as you watch him solve the problem while thoroughly explaining each step. Writing out every single step even if it was unnecessary, but it helps.

“So the answer should be seventeen and not twenty-two.” He finishes, and the puzzle slowly starts to connect itself before your eyes. The steps are laid out perfectly and neatly. The parenthesis stay until the equation is factored to the lowest it can go. And you’re about to jump across the table to give the man before you the biggest hug. He’s the only one who's been able to point out what you’ve done wrong your whole life and then explain it easily.

You lift your head up, wide eyed and say “oh, that makes sense.”

Namjoon laughs, almost as if he’s relieved but also disbelieved. You start to feel bad because for the past hour he’s been trying to explain to you the basic principles in every way possible. And it was only until he explained it to you in baby terms that you finally understood. You’re about to apologize, but instead you’re left stunned by his next words.

“I’m giving you homework for the next time we see each other on Thursday.” He hums, flipping to the next page. Your eye twitches a little at the thought of math homework. If you never did it while you were in school and getting graded for it, why would you do it now?

“Homework?”

He hums, and begins to write down a bunch of different math problems. He can sense that you’re about to fill him with different complaints, so he speaks up. “Do you want to pass math class?

“Yes, but do you really need to give me homework?”

“How many hours were you in dance class growing up?”

“I don’t remember like five hours, but what does that have to do with you giving me math homework.”

“What were you doing for five hours?” He lifts his head, handing you your notebook. You take it looking down at the ten perfectly curated algebra problems.

You want to throw up.

“Practicing.”

“Exactly, and how are you going to pass math?”

You huff, seeing exactly where his question was heading. Proving a point or whatever. Jungkook did mention his brother was a bit of a smart ass. Now you’re unfortunate enough to be at the receiving end.

With a grunt you close your notebook. “Fine, I'll do the homework.”

Namjoon smirks, tapping his ear, leaning in further into the table. “No, I want to hear you say it please.”

You stuff your small spiral notebook into your purse, snatching your special pink mechanical pencil from his side of the table. You spent too much money on it to let—your stupid math tutor who is now giving you homework to make you suffer—steal it.

“I need to practice math.” You mumble, zipping up your bag, and putting it over your shoulder.

Namjoon laughs, letting his red pen fall against the wooden table with a clank. You roll your eyes before standing up. At least your suffering was amusing to someone.

You cross your arms in front you waiting for his laughter to die down. When it does he looks at you, watery eyes from joy and you feel a slight tug in the inside of your chest. You push it to the side, convince yourself that it’s just the irritation bubbling up inside of you.

“Are you done?”

He nods, shuffles around the table to put his stuff away. “How are you getting home?” He questions, standing up and hoisting his vintage messenger bag over his shoulder.

You shrug, “the bus.” You state, pulling up your phone to check the bus schedule. If you can catch the next bus that comes in ten minutes then you’ll still be able to get home with a couple of seconds left of daylight.

“I’ll go with you then.” He states firmly, standing up abruptly and walking past you. It leaves you no room to argue against him.

You’re quickly starting to realize that once he says something firmly enough to be believed as the truth. There is absolutely no room left for a final say.

And they call you stubborn…as if.

The bus arrived a minute late. A minute that felt longer than what it should’ve felt. The two of you were the only ones standing side by side under the dim light of the bus stop.

It’s one thing to be in the same room as your tutor while the only thing the two of you talk about is math. It’s another thing to have him offer to walk you home. There’s no conversation. There’s no way to start a conversation. The only thing you really know about him is that he’s still studying, he is Jungkook’s step brother and he’s a philosophy major. The only philosophers you knew off were the ones from Ancient Greece. All the readings for your Introduction to Modern Rhetorics course that you were assigned to do were somewhere buried in the back of your mind.

You don’t want to start up a conversation in which you know you won’t be able to keep up. You remember very little about the readings and somehow the things you do remember blend into one another. So you can’t differentiate between what one philosopher said and what the other said.

Instead, Namjoon and you walk in silence. At a safe distance but close enough to still feel the presence of the other. Then you stand in the bus stop. Neither of you sit on the cold metal bench because it’s still not cold enough for them to turn on the bench warmers. And when you see that the bus is a minute late, you start to feel the slightly awkward air around the two of you get thicker.

You’re about to bite the bullet, take the embarrassing moment for some sort of small talk when the bright blue bus turns the corner. You watch it approach the stop fast. At least that’s what it feels like and soon enough the driver opens the double doors to welcome the two of you.

Surprisingly it’s not full. There are a few people occupying the seats, but there’s enough room to not feel like you’re being squished upon one another. Namjoon lets you enter first. Once you click your transit card against the reader you scan the rows for an empty seat. And of course, there’s two left in the far back. You walk to it quickly. Pass the exhausted bystanders and take the seat against the window.

After all, you will be here for the next twenty five minutes. Though, it’s not only occurred to you that you don’t know where Namjoon lives, until he takes up the seat next to yours. You want to ask if he’s going out of his way or if his place is along this route. But you don’t want to pry too much. You’ve only just met him officially. You also don’t know what you would do with yourself if it does turn out that his place is out of the way. Probably, apologize profusely for being such an inconvenience.

To save yourself from the discomfort you sights upon the buildings outside the window. Your daydreaming only lasts a few seconds when you feel a light tap against your shoulder. In a quick motion you turn your head to face the man sitting next to you. You tilt your head in question and he opens his mouth to speak.

“What’s the deal with you and Jungkook?”

The question feels like you’ve been hit by whiplash. It’s not the first time you get asked about it. Your longtime friend Jina has brought it up a few times, but you always reply with the same exact answer. “I guess we’re friends.” You shrug.

Namjoon hums in acknowledgment, nodding his head. He looks ahead for a few minutes before looking back at you. “Are you sure?”

Now, this question takes you aback. Nobody’s ever questioned your honesty. At least until now.

You quirk a brow and nod. “Yes, we share a few classes and sometimes we study together. But it always feels like I’m there to study and he’s just there to talk because he never shuts up.” You rant.

“Ah,” he chuckles, moving his head in confirmation. “That sounds like him, when he was younger he never talked, but then he turned fifteen got a little confident because he found out a few people found him cute and he just never stopped talking then.” Namjoon reveals, making you smile. “He also talks in his sleep.” He adds, smiling when he hears you let out a giggle.

Suddenly, it doesn’t feel as awkward as before. It feels a bit simpler. And you find yourself leaning into his aura a little more.

“I think he likes you though.” He adds, making your eyes grow wide in surprise. Maybe you’re dumb or you just don’t understand flirting thanks to the two very unserious relationships you had between the transition of high school and college. But from what you do know is that Jungkook holds no romantic feelings or a liking towards you. That’s something you’re very confident in.

“I don’t think so.” You scoff. “He would be stupid if he did.” You wave him off, and look out the window. You catch his reflection in the glass. He’s looking down at you, smiling in amusement. It somehow makes your cheeks get a bit hot and you divert your gaze down to the metal border of the window.

“He sat me down on our couch last night and laid down some ground rules.” He speaks up, looking ahead again. He lifts his hand and starts, “I’m not allowed to let you out of my sight, I have to be nice to you, and Hobi is not allowed under any circumstances get your number, which somehow I failed at doing.” He shrugs and counts with his fingers as if that proves his statement.

You stare at his hand before looking up at him again, you’re at a loss for words. Your thoughts are all jumbled up. Somehow you know tonight you won’t be able to sleep. You will now be questioning every single interaction you’ve had with Jungkook in the past few months.

Clearing your throat you say, “that doesn’t mean he like…has feelings for me.”

He lifts his hands up in defense. Your tone is harsh and he finds it amusing. He continues, “don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just relaying information on something I’ve observed.”

You finally turn to look at him. Your eyebrows are drawn together in a scowl. “No offense but your observation is stupid.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting like a child. It makes Namjoon laugh loud enough to turn heads, causing you to look at him alarmed. It only makes him laugh harder and when you’re about to reprimand him, the automatic voice sounds in the speakers of the bus. It announces your stop and you scramble quickly to press the bright red button to stop the bus.

This shuts Namjoon up, he looks around, biting the inside of his cheek before nodding his head in confirmation. “This is your stop,” he voices just as the bus comes to a halt.

You nod, taking out your bus card from your purse and standing up. He copies your movements, makes his way to the card scanner and places his card against it. He doesn’t wait for you to exit he simply does and stands outside on the sidewalk, hands in his pocket. You scan your card and take the leap of faith from the bus stairs to the sidewalk. You land next to him, thanking your lucky stars for catching you and finally you voice out the question that’s been dying in the back of your throat.

“This is not your stop is it?”

“It’s not but, I promised Jungkook you would get home safely.” With that he turns on his heels and escapes the light of the stop, appearing again a few feet ahead underneath the street light. “Are you coming?”

“Do you do everything Jungkook says?” You grumble. The argument in which you state that you’re a big girl who is more than capable of walking home by herself escapes you. Only because when you’re finally standing in front of him. His head towering just a few inches above yours, it finally hits you. The jolt that springs in the pit of your stomach. The tug inside your heart that will have you up all night because it feels like a terrible case of heartburn. And the seed, his soft gaze plants inside of your mind.

It’s a mistake, a big one and you’re now regretting taking up Jungkook’s offer to have his brother tutor you. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen at all. The slow cascade down the wall you’ve built surrounding your emotions. You can feel it crumble already, ready to run down a dead end street, because that’s what it feels like. Whatever you’re feeling inside.

“I don’t.” The soft timbre of his voice brings out, you’re thankful it helps you find your way back down to the ground, but you’re not a fan of the way it paints goosebumps across your arms.

He continues, “I don’t want him to lecture me for not looking out after his friend.” He emphasizes the last part, combining it with a wink. You know what he is implying and you can’t help but feel a bit of the drink you had an hour ago threatening to make its way up your throat.

“You’re not going to give up are you?” You walk past him. It’s best to have him a few feet behind than right next to you. The space gives you time to regain yourself, yet it doesn’t last because in seconds he’s right next to you. His arm is so close. It almost brushes against yours. Thankfully it doesn’t but you can smell his cologne. It’s soft, and warm. Like fresh laundry on a sunday morning. It makes your insides burn and you know that from now on you will be looking for that scent everywhere so you can call it yours.

Namjoon shakes his head. “I’ve never seen him this protective over someone apart from his mom.” He whispers now, and the lower his voice gets the lower it sinks inside of you. “You must be special to him.” He concludes.

“I think I’m just the first girl who's never kissed his toes and finds him annoying.” You halt in front of a street light, and he stops with you. The little man signals red—do not go. You turn your head from side to side questioning your safety. If you run now, you will likely still be alive but most importantly away from the man next to you. Honestly, you’re a bit confused. When he was talking about algebra the only thing you could focus on was how to get from point a to point b while solving the problem.

Now that the moon is dim and the streets are emptying out. The only thing you can think about is how soft and ethereal he looks. Nothing like how when you first met him, but something straight out of a modernized fairy tale. It’s hitting you unexpectedly and you begin to wonder if it’s because your exhaustion is finally settling in, making you delusional.

“That could be true, but I think that you’re here to stay for a long time.” He chuckles. The little man switches to green and he takes the step.

“Why do you say that?” You walk fast to catch up to him. You realize that he is blindly following you and you to him. Sure, you’re almost home, but he’s leading the way as if he knows where he’s going. As if he’s done this before with you and has been doing this with you his entire life. It doesn’t do anything to calm your beating heart.

He stays quiet. He keeps on walking, stealing secret glances your way to see if he’s still at the same pace as you. It stays this way until you stop in front of a cute town house. The door is decorated with an autumn reef. The worlds ‘welcome fall,’ take up the entire circumference. There’s a red bell on the handle, to signal when someone is home since the doorbell has been broken ever since you could remember.

You’re home. But for some reason it had already felt like you were home.

“If it’s not Kook then it’s Hobi. Plus I need to make sure you pass math.” He voices.

You look at him, tilting your head in confusion. Until your mouth widens in a silent ‘oh’ recalling the question he had failed to answer a minute ago.

“I think your brain has been corrupted by reading into things while you do your research.”

He chuckles, “again don’t shoot the messenger, it’s not surprising though.” He shrugs, “My brother never shuts up about you, and Hobi hasn’t stopped asking for your contact information since you first walked into Serendipity a week ago.”

You roll your eyes, turning away from him and pressing your palm against the keypad of your house. It lights up, showing numbers and you quickly enter the code, wait for the little lock to signal it has been unlocked and you turn the knob.

Before you walk in you turn to face him again. “I won’t argue with you against the whole Hobi thing. But I know Jungkook doesn’t have feelings for me. If he did he wouldn’t tell me about all the dates he’s gone on and ask for advice whenever he has relationship or situationship problems. Plus he says he’s in love with someone he met this weekend.” You reason.

Namjoon takes his hands out of his pockets, raising his hands in defeat again. “Fine I’ll drop it, but I do think he finds you special. That’s all.” He states firmly and once again you’re reminded of that tone. He’s gotten the last word and you won’t bring up another one because if not then you’d be walking a tight circle around each other.

“Agree to disagree.” You smile, taking one step inside your house. “I’ll take your word for now. Thank you for walking me home. You didn’t have to even if Jungkook asked you to.”

He buries his hands into his pockets and grins. “I also wanted to.” He takes one step back. “Good night, I’ll see you on Thursday.” And with that he turns around, starts his way down the same path that led the two of you here.

Home.

You’re left astounded. In a rush to feel comfort once again, you hurry through the door, slamming it behind you, pressing your back against it. For a moment you’re scared your parents might find you in this state, wallowing in feelings you can’t begin to understand. Then you remember that they were at dinner with their friends, and you’re thankful that you still have some time to regain yourself.

Namjoon’s words cut deep. Not what he said about Jungkook. You know as well as you know your name that romantic feelings between the two of you are nonexistent. But you also know that he said he wanted to walk you home.

Chivalry might not be dead but the bar is low, because he wanted…he wanted…he wanted to wa—

Beep.

Your phone goes off signaling a message. With all the ditzyness a girl with a school girl crush can have. You fish out your phone with a haste, what if it’s him.

Though, that thought dies as quickly as it was conjured. It’s not him, but it’s a notification that in the same right births a little flame inside of you. Maybe not as bright as the one Namjoon left behind, but it has the potential to grow into something more.

uarmyhope wants to send you a message.

Your smile gets wide when you swipe across the notification. It opens up to your Instagram and it quickly directs you to your DMS.

You open it, and you feel a spark when you read the few choice words that were chosen. They’re simple but they’re enough. And they’re the start of a long night of getting to know someone else.

Your next latte is on me cutie.xx

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA For insisting on not paying past due library fines?

When I (nonbinary) was about 7 or so years old, I had a book report due for school and I needed to borrow some books from the library to do it. My mom took me to borrow some. My mom told me when I was done we could go back and return them before they were due back (which would be the next day). My mom took the books when I was done, put them aside to bring back the next day, and then promptly forgot. I reminded her a few times and she said she'd bring them back after she got out from work while I was at school. I believed her, until a handful of years later when I was looking to borrow one of her novels to read in high school, and I saw them buried at the bottom of a box in her closet. I talked to her about it and she said "well it's too late now, it's fine they won't care because it's been years" and I believed her. I didn't bother again with the library until about last year or so (I was 24) when I wanted to replace my old library card so that my daughter (4 at the time) could borrow some books. I am VERY good at returning the things I borrow from anyone on time because I panic and get paranoid if I don't, so I wasn't worried about making the same mistake my mom did.

The library did not see it that way. Because the books when I was 7 were taken out under my name, those debts were not my mom's- they were mine. They told me I was not allowed to replace or use a library card until I paid off my fines. I owed about $200 apparently. I told them that I was only 7 years old when I borrowed those books and that I had no way of returning them on my own without a parent or guardian, and that my parent had failed to help me return them on time. That shouldn't be on me, because again, I was 7. And I didn't realize they were never returned until nearly 10 years later. They kept saying that I had to pay the debt, and that my daughter would never be allowed to have a library card until I paid my debt or she was an adult, whichever came first.

I'm 25 now, my daughter is 5, and I've still been trying to fight off this debt, because it doesn't seem fair. I especially can't pay it now, I live off of disability and foodstamps and live in a shared shelter agreement with a family member. But my daughter loves reading, and I want her to be able to utilize the library. I also would like to start reading again, and borrowing books is the easiest way for me to do so.

My family keeps saying how I should just either pay it off or let it go, that I'm a "Karen" for bothering the librarians about this so much. I don't like being rude to people, I've been about as polite (and apparently timid according to my partner) as I possibly can be about this, so I'm really worried that me fighting this has been making it harder and stressful for the librarians. Am I the asshole? Should I just stop and let it go?

What are these acronyms?

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Hi. I was wondering if you'd be willing to write an kind of AU where Sihtric can actually hear people's thoughts. Something like telepathy. And he meets Reader and he can hear all her thoughts also about himself. That would be kind of scary 😂 but also I'm sure you'd make it super fun. I don't care if you make it medieval or modern,anything you'd like.

Note: giving u all a break from my Halloween fic as I edit the next chapters. And oh my god, this idea was so cute! I could've made this SUCH a long fic, but I got too much going on already, so I kept it simple. hope you like it!

Warnings: suggestive, lots of curse words...

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: Sihtric noticed a new library employee, and you certainly had loud thoughts about him.

Word count: 1,8k 

Masterlist

'I just can't focus on the words anymore.'

Sihtric worked from home, as it was the only way he could keep a job. And to prevent himself from isolating, he goes to the library every day, when his work was done. He had been going to the library ever since he recently moved, and by now he already knew all the employees by face, and thoughts. But today, as he had to return a book he had borrowed, he saw someone new behind the service desk. Someone seemingly innocent who took his breath away at first glance.

*******************

Sihtric was blessed with a curse. He was one of the very few who was able to hear other people's thoughts. It had driven him insane when he grew up. But as he got older, he learned how to deal with it. He could almost tune it out, so to speak, but it was still always there. He was sick and tired of the people in his hometown, so he had recently moved. He found the library in his new city a lovely place, as it was quiet and with little people around, and those who were around usually had no thoughts going on, because they were reading or writing in peace.

'Hi,' you looked up from your computer, 'how can I help you?' Holy shit, you thought, which Sihtric heard.

'Hey,' Sihtric smiled, 'eh, I'd like to return this book.'

'Sure thing, you got your library card?' what the fuck…

'Of course, hold on, it's somewhere in my backpack,' Sihtric said and started rummaging around in the bag.

Where did this guy come from? Oh my god… what a babe. That jawline, that accent, those arms- wait, are those scars on his face? Oh my… I sure like a bad boy. And that hair! Oh, sweet Jesus, the wild hair. Wait, what book is he returning… you glanced at the book on your desk, damn, A Brief History of Time? Okay… pretty boy got the brains too...

Sihtric smirked as he looked for his library card. He usually didn't enjoy hearing what people thought of him, but you had to be the prettiest lady he had ever seen. And he was happy to hear you thought he wasn't bad himself.

'Here,' he handed you the card and looked into your eyes.

What the fuck, he has two different coloured eyes? IS THAT EYELINER? Oh my fucking god, I am very unwell right now…

'Thanks,' you smiled as you took his card. 

Are those lines tattooed on his fingers? Jesus fucking christ, I'd let this guy rail me in the backroom right now…

Sihtric suddenly coughed and tried to compose himself as you scanned his card and the book he's returning.

'There you go. Anything else?' you pushed his library card back over your desk and smiled. If you need any help… anything… ANYTHING

'It's taken care of?' he asked while putting the card back in his backpack, trying not to smile.

'Yep, you can borrow another book again if you wish.' do you want me to read you anything? At night? In bed perhaps?

'Thanks,' he smiled, 'not to be nosy, but… are you new here? I've been here daily for a few weeks now, ever since I moved, and I haven't seen you before.'

Aha, new guy in town I see… well, hello...

'Oh, no, I've been working here for years,' you said, 'but I was on holiday, only returning last weekend. So back to work it is.' you are hotter than the temperature on that island I was at…

'I see,' Sihtric chuckled, 'a damn shame time flies when you're on holiday, right?'

'A damn shame,' you smiled. A damn shame you're probably not single…

'I am,' Sihtric blurted out.

'W-what?' you froze. What the fuck?! 

'I mean,' Sihtric cleared his throat, 'I… I am Sihtric,' he saved himself, holding his hand out to you.

'S-Sihtric,' you smiled, 'I'm (y/n),' you said and shook his hand. Fuck, I love a guy with a firm handshake. I wonder what else is firm about him…

'Nice to meet you,' Sihtric tried to suppress a grin, 'I'll be seeing you around.' He winked before he turned his back to you, on his way to pick another book to read.

He did not just wink. Did he wink? Oh my god. OH. MY. GOD. I have to text the girls…

Sihtric chuckled to himself as he heard your thoughts. He scanned his eyes over numerous titles until he found something that seemed interesting, before he purposely went to sit close to the service desk. Close to you. 

You looked up as you saw movements in the corner of your eye, and you found Sihtric smiling at you as he sat down. Sir, the whole library is free… why… why must you sit there. A torture.

'Found a new one to read,' Sihtric said, holding up a book.

'Enjoy,' you chuckled. My god, he is cute. He is ridiculously cute. And hot. That's it, I'm calling the cops. This is a whole crime… I better call the fire brigade too. AND the medics, because someone needs to check my pulse…

Sihtric hid his face behind his book and couldn't stop smiling. He thought you were cute, yet not that innocent though. But Sihtric didn't mind that, because if he was honest; he would totally rail you in the backroom too right now. But he was a gentleman, for now, and you were at work. 

******************

Do your job, girl, come on. Stop letting your eyes wander to the insanely hot guy with the strange name- oh, fuck no!

Sihtric looked up from his book.

'Hello, beautiful!' a man said as he walked up to you.

'Shhh! This is a library!' you hissed quietly, 'how many times do I have to tell you?'

'I know, I know,' the man said more quietly now, 'just came here to see you again.'

I know, you fucking creep. You smiled.

'So, you never answered my question the other day… when I was here?' the man said and leaned over the counter, peeking at your legs under your work skirt. I'd make good work of those legs, mhm.

Sihtric grimaced at the unheard interaction. You were clearly creeped out by the guy, and rightfully so, he was old enough to be your grandfather, but he clearly had other ideas than slipping you some money to go and buy an ice cream, you know, the thing grandfathers are supposed to do.

'I'm sorry, but it's a work policy that I cannot go out with customers,' you said politely. This lie better fucking work…

'Oh, come on,' the man said. One night, he thought, that's all I need to ravag-

'Lady?' Sihtric called out to you, 'do you have a moment?'

'Yes!' you rushed away from the old creep. Oh thank god, praise the lord. Wait, better grab that clipboard and hold it behind my back so the creep can't check out my ass…

'Do you need something?' you asked Sihtric.

'Not really,' he whispered, 'but, I couldn't help noticing…' Sihtric cocked his head slightly towards the old man.

Fucking hell, that's how obvious it is? This is so embarrassing…

'Yeah,' you said softly, 'he's been hitting on me for months,' you made a grossed out face, 'I keep telling him no but he keeps coming back.'

'Won't your boss do anything about that?'

'My boss?' you scoffed, 'he doesn't give a shit about the employees.' He only cares about money. He doesn't even care that the creep waits outside until closing time, following me home…

'Can I help you somehow?' Sihtric asked, concerned about the behaviour of the man and the way no one seemed to care.

Oh my god, he's so fucking cute… why can't this guy wait outside for me until closing time...

'No,' you smiled weakly, 'that's…that's really sweet, but there's nothing you can do, I'm afraid.' But you could hold me in those muscular arms…

'Okay,' Sihtric said, 'does he… does he stick around?' he carefully asked.

'Yeah, the creep figured out my shifts… his name is Aethelhelm, by the way, I guess calling "the creep" is a bit rude.'

'No worries,' Sihtric smiled, 'he looks like a creep.'

'He is,' you laughed softly and looked into Sihtric's eyes. Fuck… this guy is so beautiful. Wait, did his eyes just light up?

Sihtric quickly looked away and bit down on his lip.

'Anyway,' you cleared your throat, 'I… I should get back to work. Back to the creep,' you made a face, to which Sihtric smiled. 'But thanks for the distraction.'

'Anytime, lady,' Sihtric said and gave you a small nod. And he couldn't help checking out your ass when you walked back to your desk, and he bit down a smile when he heard your thoughts.

Yeah... I'd totally let him do me in the backroom…

**********************

'You finished that book already?' you asked about an hour later, when you saw Sihtric got up and was on his way to head out of the library. What kind of question is that, you dumbass. Well done being smooth…

'I guess,' you smiled. I hope so…

'No,' Sihtric smiled and shrugged. He had been glancing at you the whole time when you managed to focus on your work again, and his eyes kept trailing back to you. 

'I just can't focus on the words anymore,' Sihtric continued, 'so that's my signal to go home. I'll see you around.'

*******************

'No, no, no,' you sighed when you saw Aethelhelm was waiting for you again as you closed the library. Maybe if I'm really fast he won't be able to catch up with me...

You quickly locked the door and almost sprinted around the corner, where you bumped into someone.

'I'm sorry!' you blurted out. Oh my god… oh no…oh no, I'm feeling myself blush!

'Oh, hey,' Sihtric smiled, 'are you okay? You look a little spooked.'

'Yeah, fine,' you lied and glanced back over your shoulder, 'just eager to get home.' 

And get away from that fucking creep! Oh, no. No he's coming over. Oh for fuck sakes.

You looked back at Sihtric. I hope you will forgive me…

You grabbed Sihtric by his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. It took him a few seconds to adapt to the situation. He already knew you were hiding from Aethelhelm, but didn't quite expect this. Yet he wasn't complaining, and he kissed you back without hesitation.

Fuck he's a good kisser, you thought, and Sihtric smiled against your lips as he pulled you closer. 

Oh my god, you moaned softly against his lips, oh my god, fuck, he's so hot. Wait, what is he doing, you felt Sihtric's hands slide down your lower back, onto your ass. Sihtric knew "the creep" would see it, and he also knew what you had been thinking about earlier that day, so he amusingly squeezed your ass, firmly.

Oh, fuck, those hands… oh dear lord, I will be thinking about him tonight…  

You raked your fingers through his loose hair, kissing him as Sihtric pushed you back towards the library entrance while "the creep" had already turned and left, looking upset. 

Wait… you thought as you were pushed up against the library door, his lips still pressed onto yours, what… what is he doing… the library is closed…

'You wish to be railed in the backroom, lady?' Sihtric grinned

Oh, sweet Jesus, it's like he can read my thoughts, yes, please...

******************

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[socstudies]

Hi, as someone who is going to be in their first year of college this fall, I'm curious about the note taking part

Is physical or digital note taking easier?

Is spending money on a laptop nessesary?

What is something you wish you would've done differently during your first year?

Do you have any advice?

If by any chance you see this, your blog and your aesthetic are amazing!

I'm wishing you a wonderful day/night.

If you do decide to reply, thank you in advance <3

helloo! sorry for the late reply & thank u for the ask! :)

ive tried both and i think i prefer handwritten notes, however they both have their pros and cons:

handwritten pros

proven to be better for retaining information

can't get distracted by other tabs

lighter to carry

costs less than a laptop

i've had some classes where we weren't allowed to use laptops so it's good to already be used to taking notes this way

cons:

much slower. sometimes i find im missing stuff and i have to go back to it at the end

have to print out diagrams etc if u want to include them

could possibly lose them, spill something etc

not enough space on desk for both laptop and notebook so u can't get slides up or google something

digital pros:

much quicker

easier to organise & pull up different notes at any time - u don't need to carry around or find older notebooks to be able to study or refer back to past classes

some people make notes directly onto the slides which u would have to print out if u wanted to do by hand

can also use for research and writing essays which u will need a computer for at some point so might as well do everything in one place

cons:

expensive

more stressful if u lose or break it

if u forget to charge it and u don't have paper .......

this upcoming year, im using a combination. most of the time i'll handwrite my notes, but for classes where they talk too quickly i'll type them (it's not worth the stress & extra time having to go back to recordings after). my notes for readings will be annotated straight onto the pdf. i'll be taking pictures of notes to put them all together.

---

unfortunately, i think it is because you'll need computer access to research and write ur essays, as well as to find course information etc. HOWEVER some universities (most?) have laptops that u can borrow and computers in the library, so if u know that you'll be motivated enough to get up and do all of ur work on campus, you could save this cost - bare in mind when u move off campus after first year it might be even harder. definitely look into this if cost is an issue for you! it doesn't need to be a fancy one if u do buy a laptop though, just remember u'll be carrying it around so don't get a super heavy one!

---

as for something i wish i'd done differently: as a sociology student, none of my classes have exams where i have to memorise things, instead it's all essay based. this led me to not 'study' i guess ??? like the stuff that i wrote my essays on, i knew like the back of my hand, but everything else i couldn't remember well. so if ur taking an essay based subject, remember that u still need to study a little & remember these things !! i was so overwhelmed tbh that i forgot about this oopsie!

---

extra advice:

when people say that after u skip one class, u'll skip the rest THEY. MEAN. IT. literally try so hard not to miss class bc you will never go again if u do. my classes would start off with not enough seats for everybody and end up with just a handful of us by the end of term.....

make time for urself !! it can become all consuming, especially if u live on campus, but pls make some dedicated time away from studying !!

u will find ur friends eventually. pls remember that it won't last or be that fun if u stick with friends who u don't have that much in common with just bc they were the first u met. tell me why i was going to bars and clubs with people in first term bc that;s what they wanted to do ????? it's ok to move onto different people bc u will eventually get tired of doing these things u don't like just to be able to hang out with people !! now i go to bookstores and cafes with my new friends and i love it!! don't settle !!

[misty--nights]

Episode 5, here we go! This episode is a roller coaster. It has some of the funniest gags in the series, but also some of the most heartbreaking scenes. I'm surprised at how many thoughts I had about the characters with this one.

The editing of the recap has me dying! Who decided to cut from Niko asking if Edwin wanted to kiss Monty to that shot of Charles from when Edwin was enraptured by him and then back to Edwin saying "I don't know"? I gasped when I saw that. Fantastic

Charles is leaning in for a kiss when before Crystal says they need to talk. No, my boy, someone give him a hug

I said it before in episode 4, but it's wild to me that there was apparently like no real investigation done into Brad and Hunter's deaths

The envelope with Niko's letter has the same stickers as her envelope with rent from last episode. As someone who also finds every excuse to use cute stickers, I find this amazing

For all of Maxine's glaring problems, she actually makes a pretty good librarian. Love that she greets Niko by asking if she's done with her reading. Also love that apparently Niko borrows at least some of her manga from the library (we love supporting libraries in this house)

Charles looks genuinely intrigued when Niko mentions having her own case. I really wish we had gotten to see more scenes with these two because they'd make an amazing team. Just imagine the chaos and good vibes of the two of them combined

I know the eight ball is supposed to be predicting her imminent death, but the "outlook not so good" fits really well with the outlook of the date. And it shows right after she says she's feeling lucky about her case, so, I think it applies to that as well (in a way, you could say it's predicting Maxine's death in the episode? Maybe?)

When they go to the dragon's den, Brad says people don't go there anymore because they miss him and Hunter too much, which is an interesting way to put it. Like, I understand why he'd interpret it like that, given the kind of people the two of them are, but still. It didn't click until now that that is most likely not what other students think when they imagine going to the dragon's den

Edwin looks so concerned about what a hand job is. Especially after Charles reaction, I'm dying

There is a genuine record scratch after Maxine mentions the nightshirt thing. I rarely pay attention to the background music in shows and music, so this one took me by surprise. It works really well with the scene, though, I like it

I know part of the reason this case affects Charles so much is because he's trying to tell himself he's not this terrible person because of his trauma and anger. But do you also think Brad and Hunter remind him of the guys he used to hang out with when he was alive? The ones who killed him? He looks really hurt when he tells them "you were cruel just for the shits", and I think it would make sense for him to be remembering his own friends' cruelty. Towards that other boy they were kicking and that he tried to defend, and towards Charles himself when they killed him. I think maybe in that moment he's remembering the way they laughed as they hurt him, how they cheered as he froze in the lake and tried to avoid their blows

Did they put eyeliner on Charles just so that his eyes would look all smudged every time he cries? Because it's devastating seeing him like that each time. And that hopeful smile he gets right before hugging Edwin? Ugh, my heart

Also in that scene, the way Charles nuzzles against Edwin's face during the hug, I swear!! Someone needs to give this boy like a thousand hugs right now

"I could smooth everything out again." This line breaks me knowing Crystal's backstory. Can you imagine her, letting David posses her because he promised to dull out all of this rage and hurt that have festered inside of her for years? And he does, he takes all of that and the memories and everything, but she's left trapped inside of herself, unable to do anything but watch him do as he pleases with her body. I think she should also get like a thousand hugs right away

Is Monty's ring a bird skull? Because that's adorable and very on brand

[gghostwriter]

Entangled Strings of Fate

Chapter 1. Lighting stuck (and was caught in a bottle)

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Caltech, Pasadena - Cleo considers herself a woman of logic. With an IQ of 158 and an eidetic memory, how could she not. But meeting Spencer, the boy genius to hers, had her believing in intangible theories like the invisible string and the fates. Now, if only he would notice the depth of her feelings. Set in Caltech, pre-season 1 and will progress from there. previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter

“Luck is not chance, it’s toil; fortune’s expensive smile is earned” - Emily Dickinson

The day started off beat when the alarm for her 8am class didn’t ring and it continued to snowball since then. Rushing out the door with a piece of bread in her mouth, her bag strap broke into two. The vending machine around the corner was out of order. She stepped on gum while brisk walking to her next class. And missed the chance to borrow the last book copy of a pre-requisite read for another class. In retrospect, these could all be the fates and time setting the scene. 

“Excuse me, I was told by the librarian you borrowed the last copy of The Origins of Totalitarianism?”

A pair of eyes looked up at Cleo blankly from his cluttered library desk by the window. He looked young, younger than any university boys she’d seen around the campus. Locks pushed behind his ears, he was pleasing to the eyes. If the academic genius was the type and it was true for her. 

Cleo found herself rambling under his scrutiny. “I know I’m not supposed to know who borrowed which book due to personal privacy and the librarian shouldn’t have have told me anything even with my incessant questioning but I really do need the book for a pre-requisite.” 

“Actually yes, you shouldn’t have been given access to library records or been privy to any of those information. But I do have the copy you’re looking for,” he pointed at the mentioned book from underneath a precarious book pile. 

“Is it possible for me to borrow the copy for a while?” 

Silence.

“At least right now? I can read through it quickly and never have it leave your area of premises,” she pleaded, sitting down at the empty chair in front of him. “Please and I’ll never bother you again after that.” 

He quirked his eyebrow up. “It’s a 579 page book. You can finish it in one sitting and not compromise retention?” 

“Well, I do read fast and have an eidetic memory.”

Cleo blushed and averted her gaze. She knew better than to brag about her skills that would get her labelled as a freak of nature but she was past the point of no return. Flashbacks of the high school teasing and gum in her hair incident whirled in her mind. It could have been worse if not for her older sister, Thalia, by her side. A 5’3” terror of a protector specially when Cleo accelerated from 1st year to 3rd year which was her sister’s grade. 

The young boy slid the battered copy to her view point. “I actually don’t need it back right away. It’s more of a light reading.” 

Her eyebrows rose with intrigue. Any run-of-the-mill university student wouldn’t consider this type of book a leisure read. “I’m Cleo, by the way. Cleo Murphy.” 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid.” 

“Well Spencer, I didn’t think anyone would consider Origins of Totalitarianism a great book to pass time with. None of any college boys I’ve encountered, any way.” She started, looking around the various books on the table—from Chemistry, to Philosophy, to fictional classics in its original language. “Which begs the question, are you a genius?”

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory—like you, and can read 20,000 words per minute,” he rambled on. “Yes, I’m a genius.” 

Cleo couldn’t help but be impressed with his response. It was commonly estimated that one of the greatest theoretical physicist to ever walked the Earth, Albert Einstein, had an IQ of about 160 and here was a modern day genius that beat one of the greats by a mile in numerical value. A proficient reader can read 280-350 words per minute without compromising comprehension and she herself can read 625-950 words per minute, a feat on its own, but here was someone who made that skill seem so ordinary. 

“You’re taking up Political Science as an undergraduate for law school, correct?” His intelligent hazel eyes locking into hers. “And a genius too.”

She smiled. “What made you say that?” 

“Well, you mentioned that this book is a pre-requisite for your class. You also used the term personal privacy, have an idea that library information should not be shared and apologized for it to cover bases. You’ve also hounded the librarian for those details, getting on her nerves similar to how lawyers hound information to get the court hearing outcome that they want,” he paused, tapping his finger on the table like he was in further in thought. “As for the genius commentary, you didn’t seem surprised when I mentioned my IQ. You also mentioned that you read fast, probably not as fast as 20,000 words per minute but faster than the average reader. An eidetic memory and based on your favorite character keychain hanging from your bag it looks to be more popular for a 13-15 year old than a university student so you graduated earlier than average.” 

“Everything was almost right. Except the keychain, it’s not my favorite. It’s my older sister’s,” she looked at the keychain on her bag and chuckled. “I’d like to guess you’re in Caltech for a Ph.D, your interests on reading is too varied to pinpoint what but I’d say you have a BA in Psychology with how you intellectually guessed me.” 

“It’s not an intellectual guess. It’s actually called profiling,” he clarified. “And I graduated with BAs in Psychology and Sociology, recently. Currently acquiring my PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering concurrently.” 

“So you’re a sophophile?”

“I prefer the term polymath,” he stated as he closed the book in front of him, seemingly wanting to focus on the conversation at hand. “Sophophile isn’t really a proper term is it? I don’t think I’ve encountered it in the dictionary.” 

“It’s more of an urban dictionary term, from the Greek origin of Sophia—wisdom and philac—love.” She explained as the 3pm bell rang. “Well then Spencer Reid, I’d leave you to your readings. Do you want to meet up for coffee tomorrow by Cecile’s at 10am? It’s this hole in the wall coffee spot just around the campus block.”

Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly about to disagree.

“As a thank you for lending me the book, I mean,” she rushed out, stuffing the book inside her bag as she stood. “And I’d like to hear more about your eclectic taste of light reading.”

He smiled, a full grin lighting up his baby face. If she thought he was attractive before, it was nothing compared to when he smiled. He was beautiful. 

Heart threatening to jump out of her chest, Cleo felt the times were trying to mark this moment as significant. A moment now engraved in her own mind. A chance meeting that altered the course of her life here on Earth as she knows it.

“I’d like that.” He replied.

And as it were pre-destined, their red strings of fate intertwined. 

———

Cleo was woman of logic, always hated the unknown and where all the impossibilities may lead. That was what attracted her to law, in the first place. Everything is clean cut, written on a piece of legislation with corresponding violations should there be a breach in right or contract. She Also liked her order and structure, clearly seen adapted to her surroundings. Her small personal collection, brought from her home library, of books organized in a Dewy Decimal System. Her number of shoes beside the entryway arranged by type, color, and height. And her  clothing arranged in the same manner. Her roommate, Raina, once jokingly asked if she had ever gone to the doctor to get diagnosed for OCD. It wasn’t that really, it was more of a result to her rigid upbringing as a member of the upper echelons of society.

Meeting Spencer has thrown her life into chaos. Her bed was made, yes, but various pieces of clothing were haphazardly thrown all around it. She was undecided on what to wear, an inconceivable act from someone like Cleo. Was it too casual to wear her favorite jeans or was it too dressy to wear her green maxi skirt. An IQ of 158 and she was unable to answer such a simple problem. Her phone rang underneath all her clutter, a reminder that she had 15 minutes left before the scheduled coffee meet. 

The walk to Cecile’s was an 8 minute walk, 6 minutes if she walked faster than usual. Which gives her a shy of 7 to 9 minutes to decide what to wear and exit her dormitory. She looked at the clock on her bedside table, 1 minute had passed since then. She sighed and reached for her own type of uniform—low rise jeans, long sleeve top, and her trusty black Converse—and she was out the door with 9 minutes to cover the distance. She disliked being late, no matter the setting, and from what she gathered Spencer was the same. 

Rounding the campus block, she spotted Spencer waiting outside Cecile’s. He had his hair, again, pushed behind his ears—possibly gelled slightly to stay in place. A polo tucked in his khaki pants that are slightly rolled to showcase his mismatched socks, scuffed black Converse, a light cardigan hanging on his wiry arms, and a brown satchel to finish the look. 

“Hey Spencer,” she greeted. Peeking at her wrist watch, she noted that she was right on schedule. A small success.

“Hi,” he greeted back with a his awkward smile and half wave of his hand.

As she stepped into the warm shop after him, she was greeted with the enticing smell of newly baked pastries and ground coffee. It was a Saturday, meaning the average university students were all asleep, hung over from Friday parties and booze. The shop was almost empty, sans one table being occupied by a staff. 

“So, what do you like? My treat,” she asked. No longer needing to look at the menu. This was her spot to decompress and people watch. Her order was always the same. She is ,after all, a woman of order and predictability.

“Just plain black coffee, filled only until a fourth of the cup.”

She thought that was an interesting choice of drink and specifications. She’ll have to ask him to explain that later on. She turned to face the cashier, a teenage boy with apparent bags under his eyes. “Hey Adam, one order of plain black coffee filled until a fourth of the cup and my usual, please.” 

“Hey Cleo, sure thing. My mom just baked a fresh tray of croissants, any interest on those?” He asked while ringing up her orders.

She laughed. “Like you’d need to ask, make it two for here and two to go.” 

“You didn’t have to buy me a croissant too, you know,” Spencer stated as they walked to the table by the window with their orders on hand. “The coffee is enough compensation for lending you the book.”

“I want to,” she insisted, sitting in front of each other. “Plus, the croissants here can rival the ones from Paris.” 

“Okay. But why two to go?” He continued to ramble on. “Scientifically speaking, pastries are best eaten after 20 minutes of cooling. They go through a process called starch retrogradation, with moisture from inside the pastry continuing to migrate outward and evaporate, leaving a moist interior and a nice crispy crust.”

“That may be true but those to-go pastries aren’t for me. They’re for my roommate, Raina, and he,” she pointed to Adam. “Is her boyfriend. Where’d you learn that interesting tidbit?” 

“From a pastry cookbook. I was trying to bake myself some pastries for whenever I need a sugar rush.” 

“You know how to bake? That’s charming,” she blushed. This specimen of a teenage boy couldn’t get any more perfect than he already was. “But I have to ask, why the specifics on your coffee order?” 

Spencer proceeded to scoop 7 spoonful of sugar to his coffee, seemingly showing her the answer to her question. 

With an eyebrow raised, she sipped her order—a flat white. That definitely answered her question. That much sugar added to coffee can have bad effects in the future, such as diabetes, when done regularly but she knew Spencer knew that so it was more a taste type of choice, she concluded as she slid the lent book across the table.

“Thank you again for letting me borrow the book,” she said. “It’s not my choice of light reading, per se, but it was a great read still.” 

“Then what would you consider as light reading then?”

She pondered over the question. With the large repertoire of books she has read ever since she was a kid, the inquiry was hard to answer with just one title. “It would depend on what I’m looking for really, definitely fiction, it is a great form of escape after all. If I’d want to stimulate my brain, I’d go for a mystery novel. If it’s for nights when I can’t fall asleep, The Little Prince in it’s original language always does the trick. And if it’s just to pass time, I’d say I gravitate towards contemporary fiction that tackles societal issues.” 

“You read in French?” He asked, clearly intrigued with the workings of her mind. 

“Oui, my family moved to France when I was a little girl due to business and my mother wanted me to learn French from the locals rather than subject me to non-native teachers. Do you also speak French?” It was also her mother who enrolled her to learn Russian, German, Italian and Spanish but she didn’t need to brag more than she already had.

He took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “I can read and understand French, Russian and Spanish but speaking it is a bit difficult. The accent comes off wrong and I’d like to think it’s because I have a lot of things to say so my pronunciation can’t keep up.” 

“I don’t see how that can stop you from speaking the language. If you’d like, we can talk to each other in French for your pronunciation practice,” she suggested. It was a great excuse to not lose connection with him. The boy who tugs at her heartstrings like no other. “Granted I can also communicate in Russian & Spanish but my accent for those two is a bit wonky at best.” 

Staring deeply into her eyes, she felt vulnerable and hoped that he couldn’t hear her heartbeat threatening to jump out of her chest.

“Oui, j’aimerais bien,” he replied. His accent sounding American still but Cleo thought it was cute nonetheless.

“Parfait,” she breathed out, unable to stop her large grin from spreading. 

[dxliqhted]

closer: al haitham

al haitham x fem!reader, mildly suggestive, library date.

his arms were firmly crossed over his chest, his eyes roaming each of the books spine not stopping until he found the one he needed. he swore it was here last time he checked,

"can i borrow this?" his eyes followed your voice, to see you chat with a man on the ladder, you pointed up to the top shelf indicating what you needed it for.

kindly, the guy grabbed his finds and lended her the ladder, leaving you unattended. which was no option for al haitham—not when your two left legs were 10 feet high on a ladder.

abandoning his book search, he slowly approached the ladder, you were already at the top not paying attention to what was down as you read the backs of each book, "no..." you mumbled at a book from what he could see was about the plant poetry. so easily it brought a smile to his lips, he loved watching you—didn't matter doing what he just found you so entertaining, your reactions to things were always priceless.

what he didn't know was why you were here, this library of all others.

you finally picked a book that seemed to interest you, managing to get you on the first page, and with another flip you were hooked, leaning more on the ladder to gain more comfort, as if forgetting one mistep was costly.

"the chairs probably more comfortable than this old ladder," he spoke finally, your attention instantly on him, "haitham?" you look down to see the smilely man, "baby come down," he suggested again, "it's actually comfy up here,"

"[name]."

"fresher air. a nice change from down there." you shrug and he looks at you thoughtfully, he doesn't speak but his eyes do it for him, cat like eyes filled with longing mixed with adoration once he scans my body and my face, but also demanding.

"you're lucky i like you." you still step down towards him, his hands cup your waist lifting you down and against him in a hug,

he waits for you to look down at him before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, distracting you from the hand that was out for your book,

"does my luck still count here?" he snickers, waving the book in front of you teasingly as you finally realized exactly what he's done.

"NO." you shout once you register exactly what he's doing, your cheeks burst with heat as your stomach drops.

not that your embarrassed about your choices in literature...but if he see's he'll never let it go and that'll be it for your book enjoyment.

he presses a finger to your lips asking you to shush, you were in a studying area… "why not? you took an awful amount of time picking it out...it has to be good." he whispered, amusement all over his face.

"it is a good book." you confirmed,

"then why can't i flip through it? his brow rose, and to your unsuccess in getting it back you sighed with a nod, "just don't...be you about it." your frustration was taken with a light laugh, "me about it?"

"tease about it for the next year every chance you get."

he smirked wickedly, and you gave up as he read the cover then slowly looked up at you, wordlessly.

"yes?" you asked but he slowly shook his head like theres no reason to the slow stare, there was because when he flipped the page he immediately gave it back to you.

"too much?" you asked as he slowly turned away from you, "you didn't even read the page.." you open the book and scan the words and then suddenly he huffs, "erotic poetry?"

"smut."

"smut. you read this shamelessly in public?" he asks, turning back to you, seeing you nod, a smile widden on your lips, shameless, "people don't usually notice unless they've read it too...i mean it looks normal." the covers a light shade of green with golden letters in the corner, hand-coverable, and practical.

which is good since you weren't really known for this but more for your innocence, come to think of it you think al haitham likes you more for this.

"are you really that surprised?" i stepped closer to him, he takes a minute but he actually nods,

"i thought it was gonna be something stupid like a travel book."

"travel books aren't stupid.."

strangely, looking embarrassed as he clears his throat, "how about we study the book." he says, pointing to one for the librarys private rooms, this makes you laugh, "study?"

he grabs your wrist pulling you along to the open room, "well your strongly interested aren't you?" he smirks, "and i'm greatly misinformed..." the door clicks shut, and you sure hope the room was sound proof.

©dxliqhted ♡ please do not steal, modify, plagiarize or repost my works

[transbutchblues]

tagged by @cattus-catos :) thanks

last book i read : The Communist Manifesto by Engels and Marx. it was over a month ago but i’ve been feeling weird so i haven’t been able to actually finish a book since then.

a book i recommend : Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, my favorite book. it’s so beautiful. everyone should read it.

a book i couldn’t put down : so many! i’d say Thistlefoot by GennaRose Nethercott, an absolutely amazing book exploring collective and generational trauma through the presence of ghosts while also being sometimes funny and lesbian. it’s so good i read it aloud to my mother then offered it to my grandparents. as well as Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg, which opened entire new paths for me.

a book i’ve read twice : so many books but let’s say Anne Carson’s Antigonick. one of my favourite ancient greek play translations/retellings.

a book on my tbr : Aristophanes’ plays. i don’t like comedies so i keep procrastinating, but i really need to read them at some point.

a book i’ve put down : The Hera of Zeus : Intimate Enemy, Ultimate Spouse even though i absolutely loved it, because i borrowed it at the uni library and then had to give it back before finishing it. and now said library is closed for the summer. but also some other academic books that are interesting but too tiring to read right now.

a book on my wishlist : @nicosraf’s Angels and Man - i absolutely loved the first book, it’s incredible, it’s one of my favorite queer books, but i still haven’t found the time and money to buy the second one.

a favourite book from childhood : a french book collection on ancient greek myths called Saga of [Hero’s name] : greek mythology in 100 episodes. The ones on Odysseus and Theseus are the very first books on greek myths that i remember reading, when i was about 5 or 6.

a book you would give to a friend : Gideon the Ninth from The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir. this is so good. lesbian necromantic science fiction, absolutely hilarious but also tragic. i should probably have put it as the book i reread because i read it exactly 4 times in 6 months (and did the same with the two following books. before writing a analysis document on it.)

a book of poetry/lyrics you own : Anne Carson’s translation of Sappho’s poetry, If not, Winter. and Ocean Vuong’s two poetry books, Time is a Mother and Night Sky With Exit Wounds. as well as Richard Siken’s Crush. or Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal, the first poetry book that i enjoyed. all amazing works!

a non-fiction book you own : Eros the Bittersweet by Anne Carson (lots of Anne Carson here. maybe i have an obsession), an exploration of love in ancient greece. i read mostly pdfs of non fiction books or i borrow them from the library.

currently reading : too many books…. Lucan’s Pharsalia, Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine by Rashid Khalidi, a french translation and commentary of Catullus’ poems, multiple retellings of ancient plays,…

planning on reading next : the Iliad! i really want to reread it, i keep thinking about it. the first time i read it it only took me 3 days but this time i want to annotate it. also, Female Masculinity by J. Jack Halberstam. and multiple academic books about Antigone.

tagging : @hiemihymni @olympianbutch @khaire-traveler but no pressure!

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

“So this is your College,” she says, without turning around. They haven’t spoken in—well, long enough to forget just how solid his presence feels, but not so long that she doesn’t recognize his step. He still stomps like a mammoth and drags his feet. Worse in the snow, always.

He comes to stand beside her, a professional distance from his shoulder to hers. “Impressed?”

It’s certainly meant to be impressive, at least—the stonework polished, gleaming; the towers academically tall. He’s had banners put up in too many places with a symbol she doesn’t doubt he designed himself. Waste of runework to shield that much delicate embroidery from the elements; they’ll be moved indoors well before Frostfall, she thinks to herself. “I noticed the statue.” He preens, the way his chest puffs out visible out the corner of her eye. Twitching a smirk, she says, “Funny you didn’t have it made of yourself, though.”

“Of course it’s—”

“Fellow they got to do it instead is obviously much too handsome.”

He splutters, tugs in irritation on one thick braid of his moustache. “You don’t have anything meaningful to say?”

“Hm.” She feigns deep contemplation. “What did you leave out of this one?”

“I didn’t leave anything out. If you’re here just to insult me, Ulfsild—”

“Someone’s got to remind you that you’re only a man while you’re signing your byline in titles, Archmage,” she says, light as the flakes freezing on her eyelashes. She breathes slow into her palms, curls the warmer air around her face to melt them again. Her fingers twinge. “And no one else seems particularly keen on doing the job. Kitchen?”

“It’s got a kitchen. You don’t like the title?”

“Makes you sound like a pompous ass, which is accurate, but I hadn’t thought you wanted everyone to know. Living quarters?”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Library?” When he doesn’t answer, she barks a laugh, incredulous, and turns to look at him at last. He’s staring very pointedly at the central building and not at her. “Did you not put a goddamned library in your school, Shal?”

“There are plenty of shelves. Why would anyone borrow a book when they can just keep it for future reference—”

“You are going to kill me,” she says cheerfully. “I’ll laugh myself to death one day when you forget something important in your grand old quest to pluck down the stars. Watch, you’ll go to show off how easily you stride from here to Hammerfell in a single step, ready to revolutionize magical travel, and you’ll leave behind your own head because you didn’t think to cast down instead of up.”

“At least I’d have done it. More than some can say.” He’s silent for a moment, snow dusting his beard. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he’d oiled it just recently. He never did it this early in the week, though.

But. Well. Routines change just as well as people do, she supposes. She spells off the ache in her knuckles—comes back quicker than she’d like, these days—and shakes out her hands. Folds her arms and studies him. She needs to see his face for this part. “I read your piece on integrating runework during construction.”

He has the audacity to not so much as twitch a greying whisker at this. “Found it riveting enough to come discuss in person, did you? Nostalgic for old times?”

“I want my notes back.”

“You took,” he says evenly, “all your things already. Thirty years ago, you’ll recall.”

“You just happened, then, to remember exactly how I explicated the energy renewal process in layered stone—”

“Evidently, yes. Believe it or not, Ulfie, you do leave an impression.” His voice is dry. He flicks her an amused look, crosses his arms in perfect mirror of hers. “I’ll make a footnote in the reprint if it’s rankled you so much.”

“Footnote! You used my diagrams, Shal. From—” She shifts her jaw, finding it tight. She still spits sparks when she says the name, and the familiar static tingle in her teeth feels a warning. Instead, she takes a breath. “At least spell indeko right, you old fool. There’s no c.”

“What? Yes there is.”

“There’s not.”

“I’m not having this argument again.” He starts for the iron gate. “Come inside if you’re done and we can talk about anything else.”

She puts out a hand. He stops abruptly at the lock of the gate yanking into place with a horrible metal sound. “That’ll rust if you aren’t careful,” she says with a nod. “You really don’t ever learn, do you?”

He tips his head back, staring bleakly at the sky. “Let go of the gate.”

“Give me—whatever you kept. I told you I don’t want you using my notes. You put it at the wrong stage anyway, and I hope it was only in the paper and not in the construction here—though if you’re just going to give this one away to the first devil to dangle a promise in your face then maybe it doesn’t matter so much whether it stands or falls—”

“Let go of the gate,” he turns; “you’re going to break something.”

“Like you can’t put it together again,” she snaps.

“You know what I meant.”

Her hands are shaking. She doesn’t let go. “Swallow all the stars you want, Shalidor, but don’t pretend you’re here with the rest of us on the ground.”

“You don’t have to be on the ground. If you weren’t so damn myopic—” He cuts himself off, lifts a hand to sever her grip with a twist of his middle finger and his thumb, leaves her hands burning and claw-curled, rigid. The way he’s looking at her has her swallowing sparks again, running her tongue over her teeth. “Come inside. Stay here and do something great instead of theorizing yourself to death. Or at least let someone look at your hands. Is it worse?”

She huffs out a breath at a spasm in her palm. Stands up straighter. “You know we can’t work together.”

“You don’t even want to try?”

“No, Shal.” Shaking out her hands and tucking them into her sleeves, she closes her eyes for a moment. “I hope this one works out, I do. You don’t need me for that.”

He laughs. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t think so.” Gesturing to the gate, he says, “You’re welcome to search my rooms if you like. You won’t find anything in your hand, though, I promise.”

She doesn’t put much stock in his promises. Exhaustion presses at her shoulders: too much, again. She ought to go. Come back when she’s not dragging threads of magicka, fraying at every edge. But that would give him time to rearrange, so she shifts her jaw instead, makes her voice light. “Haven’t even seen the grounds and you’re inviting me up to your rooms.”

His eyebrows lift. “If you like.”

“Is the tall strapping statue model up there?” His face contorts—and despite herself, she feels her mouth pull into a grin.

[repurposedmeatlocker]

Ok, so I've been watching Beavis and Butt-Head lately (I was born in 2001 with a mom who hated it. Give me a break), and while watching it with friends last night there was a part that I can't stop thinking about.

Basically, while watching a music video, Butt-Head exclaims something like: "I wish I could watch this over and over and over again." My gut reaction was "don't they have a VCR?" but then it dawned on me: "No! Of course they wouldn't have a VCR. What am I thinking!" For context, when I was growing up in the early 2000's, one of the cheapest and most cost effective ways of owning video content was by buying VHS' second-hand. I had a huge collection of movies growing up which my parents bought through a local re-seller. Others I would borrow from the library. A majority of homes had them as a part of their setup, often in tandem with a DVD player. This was the default I was familiar with for years before VHS fell completely from relevance. Meanwhile, this show came out in the early 90s and centers on what are clearly two low-income boys. Of course a VCR wouldn't be something just naturally available. You had to just hope something good would pop up on TV or in a movie theatre. If you're lucky you'll catch something you like getting replayed. I find this "dated" little throwaway dialogue so interesting because of the specific image it paints of the decade it came out. The limited accessibility of information and media, and how a large portion of it centered around the home television set. How exciting and invigorating it was seeing anything playing on there, because there was no telling when you will get an opportunity to see it again. I don't know. Maybe that is a little dramatic (especially for any one reading this who actually lived through the 90s), but it resonated with me a bit. It got me thinking about not only how much has changed in media-consumption, but how expansive and fast accessibility is now. How the television has diminished in relevance as a medium, and how little people seem to care about what they are watching.