#I think I’m going to start asking questions more on here because I want to interact with everyone more

[cutielando]

we can’t be friends, part 2

a/n: the highly requested part 2 of we can’t be friends is finally here!!! again, this is super rushed because i wanted to post it as soon as possible for you guys, so forgive me 🥲

also, part 3? 👀

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Lando had never before considered himself a “lucky” man. He was always of the belief that things just kind of…happened.

But when he saw you in the paddock on that one particular day, after months of being away from you and only watching you from afar, he thanked his lucky stars.

That was part of the reason why he couldn’t resist coming up to you, introducing himself with only one thought in mind: I need to get her back.

You hadn’t known why the feeling of his hand in yours felt familiar when you shook his hand, why the tone of his voice made tingles arise on your delicate skin, or why his smile and dimple seemed like something you had seen before, seemingly in another life.

Something in your gut was telling you that you had met him sometime before, but you just couldn’t figure out where you knew him from.

Which Lando was grateful for.

He had realized he hadn’t been a good boyfriend to you before, he could see his mistakes and what he should improve now. He knew what he had to do.

After the fateful meeting in the paddock, you started bumping into him more and more. 

At the grocery store in Monaco, at the museum where you were strolling with your sister, at the hair salon, at the nail salon, he seemed to be everywhere.

You didn’t think anything about it at first, telling yourself that Monaco was a very small place and coincidences were bound to happen.

But you gradually began to feel like it was not the case, and you settled for confronting him to get to the bottom of the problem.

“You’re following me” you had caught him yet again, seemingly trailing around the flower shop where you usually spend your mornings.

Lando’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing before he settled for shaking his head.

“Bumping into me once or twice is a normal coincidence, but you’re everywhere I go. I turn around and you’re there, like a ghost. Can you please tell me what’s going on? You’re starting to creep me out” you said, making sure to keep your distance from him.

Lando’s heart began hammering in his chest, panic quickly settling in his body.

This was not how it was supposed to go down. You were meant to find it cute, endearing even, but he couldn’t have you thinking that he was a weirdo, not when he was desperately trying to make you fall in love with him once again.

How was he supposed to win you back if you thought he was a total creep?

“I’m not trying to be creepy, I promise. I just didn’t know how to approach you without being awkward” he tried to explain, realizing he sounded even more like a creep.

You cocked an eyebrow. “And you figured following me around was the solution?” you had to admit that seeing him flustered and trying to explain himself was becoming funny to you, any trace of annoyance long gone.

You couldn’t describe the feelings you had whenever you were around Lando. There was a foreign sense of familiarity every time you would talk to him and whenever you would be near him. Like your body was already used to being around him.

“No, no. God, this is so not how I wanted this to go down” he murmured the last part to himself, but you heard him nonetheless.

“Look, as much as I might find this stalking of yours kinda cute in some twisted way, what’s really going on here?” you asked, crossing your arms one on top of the other.

He sighed, hanging his head low. Should he just be honest about why he was following you? Tell you about everything you had done so much just to forget? Should he just lie and truly start from scratch? 

There were so many questions clouding his judgment, dozens of ideas and excuses floating around in his brain.

But in the end, he decided that wiping the slate clean was his best bet. You would never agree to go out with him if he even mentioned how your previous relationship had ended, that he had hurt you so much that you chose to completely forget everything about him and your relationship.

He didn’t want to risk a new beginning by plaguing it with events from the past.

“Okay. Truth is, I really like you, and I wanted to ask you out but couldn’t seem to find the words to do it. You’re gorgeous and kind and nice and I didn’t think you would want to go out with me, given what the internet has been saying about me” he confessed, scratching the back of his head in fear of what your reaction would be.

Once upon a time, he could read you like the back of his hand, knowing your every little tic and every tell. He knew every single thing there was to know about you, but as you stood there in front of him, he felt like he didn’t know you.

Even while you smiled at him with that same smile he had come to love over time, you were not the person he had left behind. You were someone else entirely, only the memory of you hiding behind your eyes. But was it wrong that it intrigued him? That it made him want to get to know you again so badly?

Maybe. But he didn’t want to resist it any longer.

Finally looking up at your eyes, his heart skipped a beat when he noticed the smile he loved vibrantly shining on your face, a sense of familiarity filling his chest.

“I don’t care what the internet says about you, I want to get to know the real you. People can have their opinions of you, I want to have my own” you said, stepping closer to him.

Lando felt like he couldn’t breathe. Having you so close to him after so much time apart made him want to lose his composure and just kiss the life out of you, but he couldn’t.

No, he wanted to do it right. He couldn’t afford to mess it up again. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t misinterpret anything.

“I’m saying that you should give me your number” you said, trying to suppress the smile that was inching towards your lips.

You didn’t know why you were acting like this. Accepting to go on a date with a guy that basically followed you around, asking him for his number? You were never that irresponsible when it came to dating, so why was he so different right now?

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something deep within you which was screaming at you to trust him. There was that sense of comfort that you felt whenever you were around him ever since the two of you bumped into each other, but you didn’t know where it was coming from. How could you feel so at ease with someone you had just met?

It was weird, definitely worrisome if you were being truthful with yourself. But then again, what harm could it do?

Lando had never taken out his phone as fast as he did in that moment, almost dropping it in the process, which made you laugh a little.

Seeing him so flustered made him blush, almost embarrassed that he couldn’t keep his act together. 

He gave you the phone in the end, and you put in your number and the name y/n💕, giving him the phone back and leaving, kissing his cheek as you passed by him.

Lando felt like he was dreaming as he felt your lips touch his skin, however briefly the contact had been. And unbeknownst to you, you were biting your lip and blushing as you walked away from him, eagerly waiting to get a text from him. 

And thankfully, it was merely an hour later when your phone dinged, and the butterflies started acting up once again.

♡♡♡♡♡

The moment of your first date with Lando had arrived after texting back and forth for a couple of days, and it was safe to say that the both of you were freaking out. 

You, on one hand, were freaking out because it felt like you hadn’t been this excited about going on a date in forever. Lando, on the other hand, was freaking out over wanting to make sure he didn’t screw things up the second time around. 

The nerves that he felt as he waited in front of your apartment building were nothing like he ever felt before. He hadn’t even been this nervous when you two went out the first time all those years back. But as he stood there, flowers in hand and yet another gift in his pocket, he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

That was until you finally appeared, dressed in his favorite dress of yours, sandals and curly hair, smiling from ear to ear when you saw him waiting for you.

“Sorry I’m late, couldn’t decide what to wear. Have you been waiting long?

Lando’s brain froze for a split second. Had he been waiting there so long that he didn’t even notice you had been late? Taking a quick peek at the watch resting on his left wrist, he realized he had been standing in front of your building for more than 20 minutes.

“Um, no. Just got here like 5 minutes ago” he lied, content when he saw the relieved smile you gave him. “These are for you” he said, holding out the flowers towards you. 

You took the bouquet from him, blushing once you noticed that he had bought you your favorite flowers.

“How did you know these are my favorites?” you asked, bringing the flowers up to your nose and inhaling the sweet aroma.

He shrugged, and left it at that. He couldn’t really tell you how he knew they were your favorite, so he figured he shouldn’t say anything else.

The night went by beautifully, the conversation flowing as if you had known each other your whole lives. The laughter you shared was natural, you felt so at ease while talking to him.

As the end of the night grew closer, you were walking hand-in-hand through the quiet streets of Monaco, a comfortable silence between the two of you. You had never felt at ease with anyone else in your entire life, yet here you were, feeling more at home with Lando than any other person in your life besides your family.

“Thank you for tonight” you said, smiling sadly once you arrived in front of your building. 

Lando smiled, stepping closer to you.

“It was my pleasure” he whispered, the distance between the two of you almost non-existent.

He looked you in the eyes as if he was asking for permission, and the second you nodded he leaned in and kissed you with everything that he had, making your knees go weak and almost buckle.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and started playing with the hair at the back of his head, almost accidentally letting out a moan at how good his lips felt on yours. Every inch of your body was on fire, your senses tingling as you got lost in the feeling of Lando.

Lando, on the other hand, felt a mixture of emotions. Even though he had been waiting for this moment for so many months, he felt guilty. There he was, using the fact that you had no memory of your past relationship to win you back. Was he being selfish?

Should he tell you the truth about the past?

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fic #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris one shot #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #mclaren #mclaren f1 #mclaren formula 1

[steddieas-shegoes]

He’s not sure why he even comes to these parties anymore. He used to sell at the frat houses, made his rounds until he was out of product, made more money than any minimum wage job he could find near campus.

But he hasn’t in a while. Months, at this point.

It’s just that every time he came to one of these idiotic showing of riches and popularity, the most beautiful man he’d ever seen was sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Sometimes he stood in a group of people in the living room, but never contributed to the conversation. Once, Eddie saw him swinging his feet back and forth in the water of the hot tub on the back patio with three different couples making out inside it, completely zoned out.

Eddie needs to keep an eye on him. Hence, he attends the stupid parties.

And it’s stupid, to go through so much trouble for a guy he doesn’t even know, who probably doesn’t even notice him back. It’s stupid, but Eddie’s never claimed to be very bright.

Which is probably why he walks up to the guy when he’s about two seconds from punching Tommy Hagan, grabs his wrists, and tugs.

“The fuck are you?” He asks Eddie, reasonably confused and angry at being interrupted by a stranger.

Eddie could feel his pulse against his fingers, swore he could feel a spark of electricity flow between them.

“Eddie. Just leave him. Whatever he did isn’t worth it,” he said through clenched teeth.

His fingers tightened around Steve’s wrists as he considered trying to pick him up, throw him over his shoulder, and walk out of this party entirely.

“How the hell do you know?” Steve wasn’t trying to pull away.

Eddie didn’t let himself think about that too much.

“I just know nothing Hagan does is ever worth trouble for you. C’mon,” Eddie tugged on his wrists again, and this time, it seemed to catch the guy off guard.

“Didn’t know you were into freaks, Harrington,” Tommy said as they took a few steps away from him. “If you’re gonna be gay, you could at least have taste.”

Eddie froze.

The guy, Harrington, tried to pull his wrists loose, but Eddie didn’t let him.

He turned to Tommy, the guy who almost got him arrested for selling at his party only a few months ago, and smirked.

If he was gonna out someone to a stranger, Eddie had no problem doing the same right now.

“And you just sucked my dick because you wanted to add it to your résumé?” Eddie grinned at Tommy, who quickly looked around to make sure no one else heard.

“As if I would-“ he tried to say, but Harrington cut him off.

“You forget you say shit when you’re high. You told me about it already. I think your exact words were, ‘he had the best dick I’ve ever seen, Steve.’ Or am I mixing that up with another dick?” Steve pulled one arm loose from Eddie’s grip, brushed hair from his face, and let it relax at his side.

Eddie could let go now, he was sure if anyone would start something at this point it would be Tommy. But Steve wasn’t trying to pull his other wrist loose and Eddie liked the warmth of him in his hand.

“Whatever man, just go. You don’t even wanna be here,” Tommy turned and left before Steve could respond.

Eddie finally let go, but he didn’t like the immediate sense of loss that filled his chest.

“You always interrupt strangers before they fight?” Steve asked him, hands shoved into his pockets.

Eddie really looked at him, inspected him. He only ever saw him at these parties, so the lighting was shit, but he’d noticed the dark shadows under his eyes a while ago. He noticed that he held himself in a way that showed he was always ready for a fight. Steve’s hair had gone flat over the last month or so, not nearly as voluminous or shiny as it had been at the start of the year.

“Are you okay?” He asked instead of answering the question.

“I’m fine, dude.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t seem okay.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Just seems like something is bothering you,” Eddie wouldn’t push more, not if Steve was actually gonna get mad. But something told him that nobody pushed Steve to talk enough.

Eddie had Wayne back home, and his friends in his band here, and a couple coworkers at the bar he worked at twice a week now that he could joke around with. Steve didn’t even seem to have the people he hung around with.

“Why does it matter to you if something is bothering me?”

That’s a fair question. Why does it matter to him?

“Maybe because I just wanted to help. That’s what people do, right?”

“Not for me, usually.”

Eddie stepped closer, barely leaving space between them. “Well, I am.”

Steve stared back at him, shoulders dropping and eyes losing that angry fire.

“Why?”

Eddie was an idiot sometimes, but he was able to read people pretty well. It’s what kept him safe for most of middle and high school, and made him friends in college.

He knew what it looked like to be lonely and depressed, and Steve had check marks next to both of those.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie asked, once again avoiding his question.

“And go where?”

“I’ll show you my favorite getting high spot.”

“I don’t really smoke with strangers,” Steve seemed nervous.

“You don’t have to smoke. I’m just gonna show you the place.”

He watched Steve think about it, noting the way his brows scrunched together, how he bit his bottom lip, how he looked at the ground instead of at Eddie.

“Fine. But if you murder me in the woods, my mom will have you hanged,” Steve finally said.

“Hanged? Do they even do that anymore?”

Steve giggled. “Probably not. But she’d find a way.”

“Well, I’ve got no interest in murdering you, big boy.”

The blush that filled Steve’s cheeks was stunning. A perfect pink dusting his skin, giving him a healthier glow than what he’d had for a while.

“What do you have interest in?”

Eddie could say any number of things to flirt, make his true intentions clear, maybe even go straight back to his single dorm instead of showing Steve anywhere.

But Eddie figured that’s all Steve was used to, or maybe he was always the one who had to put an effort into things.

Maybe he wasn’t used to getting treated like a human being.

“I’d like to get to know you. Parties like this aren’t really a good place to learn about someone’s favorite song or what they snack on when they wake up in the middle of the night.”

Steve seemed shocked by this answer, but his features quickly melted into a soft smile, one Eddie would want to see every single day.

“Fine. But it’s not a date,” Steve held out his hand, ready to be led.

Instead of lacing his fingers with Steve’s, or even just grabbing his hand in his palm, he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist again.

“We’ll see.”

———

On graduation day, Steve and Eddie found their way back to their spot, one they’d probably never visit again.

Eddie’s fingers were curled around Steve’s wrist as they stood facing each other, close enough to feel each other’s breaths against their lips.

Nearly two years together, nearly 300 trips to this spot, and more than 500 dates that they never called dates.

And it was just the beginning.

Eddie leaned in to press his lips to Steve’s gently, keeping it soft so they wouldn’t get carried away.

They had to meet Wayne at the Italian restaurant in less than an hour and then Steve’s mom expected them back at Steve’s apartment for a wine and dessert celebration.

They wouldn’t be properly alone like this again for at least a couple days, but they didn’t have time to do much about it right now.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered as he rested his forehead against Steve’s.

“I love you, too,” Steve said back.

He didn’t have dark shadows under his eyes anymore, spending more nights sleeping in bed with Eddie than awake at parties he didn’t want to be at. His hair had most of its shine back. He’d put on a few pounds after joining the gym again, using it as an outlet for stress instead of hiding in corners at parties where he would drink just enough to get buzzed four times a week.

He made friends with Eddie’s friends, plus some of his own when he got a part time job at the coffee shop on campus.

Steve never spoke to Tommy again, at least as far as Eddie knew. He didn’t seem interested in being his friend again, and once he told Eddie more about their “friendship”, he couldn’t really blame him.

“You ready to go see Wayne?” Steve asked him, probably more excited than even Eddie was.

Wayne and Steve bonded quickly and they’d probably spend most of the lunch talking about sports and where they would go fishing this summer.

Eddie nodded, but he pulled something from his pocket before Steve could pull away and start walking back to the car they now shared.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, pointing towards the envelope in Eddie’s hand.

“It’s a gift from me to you. Well, I guess both of us, but I really got it for you.”

He handed it to Steve, who opened it quickly.

He pulled out the paper inside and Eddie watched his eyes fly across the words written there.

“Eddie.”

“Stevie.”

“You got us a trip to Italy? How the fuck did you get us a trip to Italy?” Steve was looking at him, eyes wet with tears.

“Doesn’t matter how. Wayne gave us some money for it, so did your mom. I’ve been saving for a year. Want us to have something special before we have to start working.” Eddie kissed his forehead. “Plus I want any excuse to see you in some of those see-through linen shorts.”

Steve’s lips were on his, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him there.

“I’ll wear them every day,” he gasped as he leaned in for another kiss.

Eddie laughed. “You won’t hear any complaints from me, sugar.”

“I can’t believe you did this. All I got you was a t-shirt.”

“You know I love t-shirts. I know you love Italy. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but kissed him again.

His eyes widened. “Oh my god. Are you gonna propose in Italy?”

Eddie snorted. “Why would I answer that question?”

“Because! I have to know!”

“Why?”

“So I can make sure I have a nice outfit for pictures, dumbass.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. You look good in everything,” Eddie kissed the top of his head before he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist and tugged on it once. “Let’s get to Wayne before he sends a search party.”

Eddie smiled to himself as they walked to the car, Steve’s rambling about what he wanted to do in Italy keeping his mind from wandering too far. He couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had stashed away in his guitar case, though.

Italy was the perfect place to propose.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #idk I needed to get this off the notes app #but I just think Eddie taking Steve away from his very sad popular rich kid life is exactly how it goes in every universe #very Aladdin of him actually #drabble

[flemingsfreckles]

Grandkids Part 3

Jessie Fleming (parent) fic

Read the previous parts here!

Warnings: none I don’t think

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this isn’t my favorite thing I’ve written but my motivation on this sort of tanked but I wanted to finish it out at least, I might write more Jessie parent fics in the future or just headcannons for parent Jessie if yall would be interested in that.

“Jessie, please, you can ask the boy questions but there’s no need to interrogate him. All that’ll do is upset Amelia.” You and Jessie are tidying up the kitchen so you can begin cooking dinner. The dinner that you’d be eating as you met your daughter’s boyfriend.

“It’s not interrogating, I just want to get to know him.” You nod at her as you start to pull ingredients from the fridge.

“Just be nice.” It was the least you could do, try and encourage your wife to not ask Nick hundreds of questions, you both wanted to know him but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

The doorbell rings a minute before the proposed dinner time. Not too early but also not late, you thought to yourself, good start to the evening.

“I’ll get it!” Amelia pops up from the couch practically sprinting to the door. You smile as you watch her rush down the hallway. You remember that feeling, being young and the knocking of the door and knowing it was the person who made your heart flutter on the other side. You had that feeling with Jessie, it was sweet to see your daughter experiencing the same feelings.

“I’m going to start the grill.” Jessie says to you and you hear the back door close. Her expression as she walked out the door was blank, she didn’t look upset but she also didn’t look happy, you weren’t sure what she was feeling.

You hear muffled discussions down the hall and shortly your daughter walks back into the kitchen with Nick. He’s carrying a vase with flowers and a small other bag.

“Hi!” You say to both of them, wiping your hands on the kitchen towel and abandoning the chopping you were doing to walk over.

“Mom, this is Nick. Nick, this is my Mom.” You take in the boy’s appearance. He’s taller than your daughter with blonde hair that’s neatly styled, he has on square shaped glasses. His clothes make you feel like you’re underdressed in your own home, he’s wearing a wrinkle free button down that’s tucked into a pair of dress pants. You weren’t sure what your daughter's type was, she’d gushed over celebrities of all appearances but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little surprised by the boy’s nerdier appearance.

“It’s nice to meet you Nick.”

He sets down the bag and the vase and extends his hand to you. “It’s lovely to meet you as well.”

“Where’s Ma?” Your daughter swings her head around looking for Jessie.

“Outside starting the grill. She’ll be in in just a minute or two.”

“Okay.” Your daughter nods and the room falls into a slightly uncomfortable silence. You and Amelia look at each other, silently begging the other to say something. Thankfully you don’t have to because Nick starts talking.

“Is Riley here? I brought him some of those baseball cards you said he’s always making you take him to the store to buy.” He looks between you and Amelia.

“No, he’s at a birthday party but I’ll let him know you brought them for him when he’s back tomorrow.” Amelia says, taking the wrapped gift from Nick’s hands and placing it on the table.

You notice it’s now been about five minutes since Jessie left to get the grill started. Maybe she needed an extra set of hands. “I’m going to go check that your Ma doesn’t need help out there.”

You step outside to see Jessie standing in front of what is clearly a turned on grill, you can see the heat coming off of it.

“Hey, all good out here.?” You call to her from the top steps of the patio. You realize she must’ve been deep in thought as it takes her a moment to look away from the grill and up to you.

“Yeah, yeah it’s, on.” Her thumbs up relaying her message that the grill was in fact on and working.

“Then come inside, it’s got to heat up for a bit.”

“I don’t know if I can.” She looks to you quickly then back to the grill.

You step down off the stairs and move over to Jessie “What’s going on?”

“I’m scared.” She says, still not looking away from the grill.

It takes all of your might to hold in a chuckle. “Of a teenage boy?”

“No, well, sort of.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m scared I’ll be too harsh, or too cold, or rude, or something to him and then he’ll realize he doesn’t want to date someone with a parent like that and then he’ll break up with Amelia and then she’ll hate me because it’ll be all my fault.”

“Jessie, that’s not going to happen.”

“But what if it does? I can’t have my little girl hate me.” The wave in Jessie’s voice tells you she’s truly worried. Her previous argument with Amelia had left her on edge, she still felt like she had to win back your daughter’s affection. Amelia on the other hand had quickly forgotten the whole ordeal.

“She won’t, because you won’t cause him to break up with her. In fact I think you’ll like him.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, let’s just say your daughter picks them like her Mom.” You point to yourself. “He’s nerdy like you.”

“I’m not nerdy.”

“You are, but it’s part of what I love about you. Now come on, you can’t hide out here all day.” You softly link your fingers into hers and pull her away from the grill and up the patio stairs.

You walk back in and are grateful to see the two of them in the kitchen, Amelia sitting at a barstool at the island and Nick standing a couple feet from her. They’re smiling at each other as they make conversation. You’re not sure what Jessie would’ve done had they been sitting together on the couch. They both look over at the sound of the door opening and your daughter stands up from her stool stepping toward both of you.

“Ma, this is Nick, Nick this is my other Mom, I called her Mama when I was little but now they just both get called Mom when they’re not in the same room together.”

“Hi, it’s great to meet you, I really appreciate you having me over.” Nick extends his hand to Jessie just as he did to you. You know your wife probably death gripped his hand as she shook it.

For a minute there’s an awkward silence. The four of you all standing looking at each other. “Nick, would you like something to drink? There’s water or sodas,” you try to get some form of a conversation started up between the four of you.

“Just water would be great, thank you.” You move to get him a glass and your daughter stands up beating you to the cabinet. You move back to begin chopping again and Jessie is quickly behind you. You pick up the knife and she holds her hand out. She stares at you with her best puppy eyes impression, and you give in handing over the knife. You know she just wants a task to occupy herself so she doesn’t have to worry about making small talk.

“So Nick, Amelia said you met in your calculus class?”

“Yes Ma’am, we sat next to each other for a bit at the beginning of the semester, I missed a few days for college tours and Amelia was kind enough to lend me her notes and help me catch back up, we’ve just been studying together since then. Amelia is the smartest one in our class.”

“You don’t have to ‘Ma’am’ me Nick, makes me feel old. Where are you looking into going to school?”

“I’ve looked at a lot of places, a couple in the states, UNC, University of Washington, UCLA,” You notice how Jessie’s posture straightens at the mention of her former school. “I’ve also looked at couple here. I haven’t really made any decisions yet.”

“Jessie went to school at UCLA.”

“That’s what Amelia told me. It’s a beautiful campus, did you enjoy your time these?” Nick now directs his attention to your wife. She stops chopping and turns around.

“I did, the location is perfect, city, beach, mountains all within reach. I really loved it. Good academics too!” You can practically see Jessie’s anxiety ease as she talks with the boy. “What are you planning to study?”

“Biomedical engineering is the plan, I’m considering medical school after my bachelors.”

Jessie smiles as she begins to talk about UCLAs engineering program, the two talk, you and Amelia throwing in comments here and there. It’s not long before you all move to the dining room.

Dinner goes smoothly. You learn about Nick's siblings, he’s the middle child, with an older and younger sister. You learn his hobbies, his interests. He asks you and Jessie about your careers, about how you met. You all talk about traveling, sharing the coolest places you’ve been. It’s an easy dinner. You stand up from the meal feeling like you knew Nick well. You felt a level of ease with him, he seemed like a good kid. You just hoped Jessie felt the same.

She had been relatively quiet over dinner just adding in comments here and there, it was more like you, Nick, and Amelia were having dinner.

You start to clear the dishes as everyone finishes eating. Nick immediately offers to help but you shoot him down stating he was a guest there was no need for him to help.

“Amelia, can you help your mom clean up in the kitchen?” You watch how Jessie slightly raises her eyebrows at her daughter, indicating it was less of a question and more of a request that your daughter leave the room. At the same time you send your wife a pointed look, you don’t know what type of interrogation she has planned for Nick but you hope your stare is enough to tell her to be nice.

“Well there’s the end of my relationship.” Your daughter says as she places dishes into the sink.

“No, it’s not.”

“She’s going to tear him to pieces in there.”

“She won’t.” You keep washing the dishes and handing them to your daughter to dry. She falls quiet and the two of you finish the dishes in silence. There isn’t much noise but the clinking of dishes and the running water in the sink. That is until you hear Jessie’s voice.

“No! There’s no way you can sit here and tell me Roddick is better than Federer.”

“Oh no.” You and Amelia turn to each other.

Amelia rolls her eyes. “I didn’t mention he’s a big tennis fan for this reason.”

“Well now I’d be worried about your relationship, your Ma is a huge fan of that man, she won’t let you be with someone who prefers his rival.” You shrug at your daughter, the panic on her face makes you realize she doesn’t notice the sarcasm. “I’m kidding Amelia.”

“I’m going to ask you first, because I’m a little nervous to ask Ma, can Nick stay after dinner to watch a movie? We can watch it in the basement, or living room, whatever you both are comfortable with, you’re welcome to watch it with us too if you want.”

“I’m fine with that, you still have to get your Ma’s permission though, you can’t just only ask me because you don’t want to hear her answer.”

“Okay.” As if she knew your daughter needed to speak to her Jessie comes out from the dining room.

“I can’t believe you,” she shakes her head at Amelia, “not warning me he was a Roddick fan.” She pulls your daughter into a hug. “He’s a nice kid.”

“Can he stay and watch a movie?” You watch your daughter pull out her best begging look. It’s identical to the one Jessie gave you when she took over the chopping duties earlier in the evening.

“Not in your bedroom.” Jessie shakes her head.

“I know that, I already talked to Mom, I said in the living room or basement.”

“Living room.”

“Thank you.” Your daughter places a kiss on your wife’s cheek before doing the same to you and rushing back into the dining room. She and Nick walk out seconds later and head to the couch. You notice Jessie eying them, watching how they choose to sit. They pick a respectable distance apart, each with a blanket.

They’re in their own little world, it reminds you of you and Jessie cuddled up in hotel rooms watching movies or even cuddled up watching team film together. You were watching the start of young love, it was sweet.

“Want to sit on the patio?” You suggest to Jessie.

“And leave them alone inside?” Jessie whispers.

“They’ll be fine. They deserve a little privacy, they’re adults Jessie, plus we can see the living room from the patio, Amelia knows that.”

Jessie finally agrees and you both head outside. It’s quiet to start, you just hear the sounds of the evening. Birds, the winds, the occasional car that drives by.

“He’s a good kid.” Jessie finally says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he spoke highly of Amelia when I “interrogated” him as she’d say. He seems like he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He accepted the expectations I laid out to him. He promised me no grandchildren anytime soon. You hear him talking about his family, his ambitions, he seems like he was raised right.”

“Wow, look at you.” You take a sip of the glass you brought out. “He changed your opinion quickly.”

“I think he reminds me of myself. You were right, he’s nerdy, I was like him when I was his age. And while that’s somewhat eased my nerves, I still don’t trust him because I know how I was at his age. How we were at their age.” Jessie gives you a knowing look.

“We were all over eachother any time we could be.” You laugh thinking back to your hormonal teenage years and the early days of your relationship with Jessie.

Jessie smiles over at you. “To be fair we didn’t have parental supervision at camps, we had access to hotel rooms, and we barely got to see each other, we also didn’t have the risk of teen pregnancy. It also wasn’t my fault you always got me riled up over text and then I wasn’t able to even kiss you for months at a time. We had a lot of built up tension. At least they don’t have most of those things.” You smile as she rambles on as if she has to defend her teenage actions to you as if you weren’t the one right there with her.

You take a second to look into the living room, you notice they’re sitting closer together on the couch but you’re not about to tell Jessie. “Yeah, I think he’s a good kid.”

“We raised her right, she’s picked a good one.” Jessie comes to sit on the bench with you so now she’s facing the window into the living room. “Were they sitting that close before?” Jessie says pointing at the window where your daughter's shoulder was practically touching Nick’s now. Before you can stop her she’s standing making her way toward the door.

“Jessie, they’re fine.”

“Oh I know.” She tips her glass of water letting it spill onto the ground. “I’m just getting more water, I’m out.” She smiles at you. You shake your head, Jessie may like the boy but she was always going to be protective of her little girl.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

[firehose118]

anyway i started writing a qpr buddie/bucktommy post-s7 fic that i may or may not finish but that's what sparked this meta. here's part of a scene from that fic with the same idea:

“Look, man…” Eddie trails off but Tommy waits as he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t know what this is. I don’t- I don’t think I’m into Buck. Not… the same way you are, anyway. But I really like this. I think I need this. I need him.” Tommy brings a hand up to cup Eddie’s face and shit, that feels nice too. “I know you do. I don’t mind, I promise. You’re not a burden. We’re not just putting up with you. We want you here, okay? We care about you. We both do.” He keeps Eddie in place as he presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “You got that?” Eddie nods. “Thank you.” “Of course,” Tommy says, like this is the most normal situation in the world. Then his eyebrows furrow and he gets serious. “Eddie, real life doesn’t look the way we were brought up to believe it does. It’s not neat and clean and one-size-fits-all. It’s weird and messy, and every attempt to force ourselves to fit the mold we think we’re supposed to just makes us miserable. Trust me: I dated women until I was thirty, even though I knew pretty early on that I couldn’t be happy with them. I kept trying because that’s what I thought I was supposed to want; what I needed to do to be accepted. For so long I felt broken, and I kept hoping I could find a woman who would fix me. Eventually, I had to just be honest with myself.” The and so do you goes unspoken, but Eddie hears it anyway. Tommy doesn’t bullshit and he also doesn’t pull any punches. Eddie feels like he’s been hit in the throat and he can barely breathe.

“Do you think I’m gay?” Eddie asks in a small voice.

For a moment, Tommy just looks at him; sympathetic but not pitying. Steadying, somehow. The look of someone who has been where Eddie is now and knows exactly how difficult the journey forward is going to be.

“That’s not a question I can answer for you,” Tommy says as he strokes his thumb along Eddie’s cheekbone. “But I do think your attempts at unquestioned heterosexuality are making you miserable. I think you need to sit down with yourself, maybe with a therapist, and really think about your own truth. Do you like women? Do you like men? Do you like both? Or neither? When have you experienced genuine attraction? What does that feel like for you? What does a happy life look like to you? Strip away all the notions you have about what you’re supposed to do, what you’re supposed to feel. What do you want, really?”

Eddie doesn’t have an answer to a single one of those questions. Standing in his best friend’s boyfriend’s house, his best friend’s boyfriend—his friend—cupping his face, his body warm and loose from hours of cuddling with both of them, Eddie feels so unrecognizable to himself.

He likes this. It’s comfortable with Buck and Tommy; far more so than the intimacy he’d forced himself to have with his last two girlfriends. Never, ever in his adult life—not since he was fourteen years old and blushing at Shannon for the first time—has he ever considered finding intimacy in anyone other than a mother for his son.

But he likes this.

How well does Eddie know himself, really? Who is Eddie, outside of fatherhood? Who is Eddie, outside of the expectations he was raised with? The expectations he has clung to like a too-small piece of driftwood in the terrifying churning seas of life, because it’s been easier than letting the waves take him. Expectations he doesn’t want to let go of even now.

But he has to. He has to do something because his son is gone. His son left him voluntarily because of a mess that Eddie has no one to blame for but himself; a mess no one can clean up but himself. A mess that Eddie allowed to accumulate because he is in denial about something. He just doesn’t know what.

It would be so easy to lay it all at Shannon’s feet; to say he’s a wreck because Shannon wanted a divorce and died and he never allowed himself to truly accept the first as he grappled with the pain of the second. But if Eddie is honest, he knows there’s more going on than that.

He feels his eyes fill with tears as the driftwood floats away and the saltwater engulfs him.

“I don’t know,” Eddie admits. “I don’t know how to be happy.”

Tommy makes a small noise and folds Eddie into his chest; holds him while he cries. His arms are strong and big around Eddie—safe. It’s not the same way Buck makes him feel safe, not known and understood and loved to the core, but he feels safe nonetheless. Sturdy. Held.

“It’s okay,” Tommy assures him. “You don’t have to know right now. But you do need to stop forcing yourself to date people you don’t want to. You do need to think about what you want. And we’ll be here for you while you do. I wish I could tell you it’s not going to hurt, but it is. Lean on us for anything you need. Trust us to hold you up.”

Despite everything, Eddie does.

#s8 give me more eddie tommy bonding scenes please #911 abc #911 #911 fic #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #mine

[brokenwinebox]

Claire And Marcus: Pushing

this is a meta inspired by @vacationship and @thoughtfulchaos773’s posts on molly’s interview about claire’s disarming moment with getting carmy’s phone number and the topic of pushing with the possible connection in the s3 trailer with sydcarmy. i highly recommend reading those before reading this because it’s based on that!!

vacationship’s meta w/ molly’s interview

thoughtfulchaos773’s meta on the topic

↓ long text below

i didn’t write a direct response to vacationship’s post but i wrote a response in my notes because molly’s interview really nagged on my brain after reading it.

here it is:

some of the things molly says is so strange to me. she will always say something in terms of clairecarmy but it could always be applied to sydcarmy. she even mentioned the whole staring being the way to intimacy for carmy. what does sydcarmy truthers say all the time about that ship??? that has to be intentional on the writers part. now, the pushing between sydney and carmy in s3? everything has felt so deliberate. claire is always in opposition to sydney. all the time. it’s making me think if there is a love confession between sydcarmy, it will happen on the phone that carmy will answer in juxtaposition to claire leaving it on a voicemail in s2.

that post and interview is why i made my first meta about sydcarmy in the first place. because it just seemed so strange that everything that was said about clairecarmy could be applied to sydcarmy.

i did respond to thoughtfulchaos773’s post because it legitimately bothered me. (not the post itself, just the possible ideas of what the writers have in mind when they write relationships.)

here’s my response:

in the car with claire and carmy, she said that he owed her in a jokingly manner to get him to that house party. so, i feel strange with the idea that someone has to do the heavy lifting for the other to barely make an effort. that’s why mutual pushing is appealing because it sounds like it goes BOTH ways. if that’s what the writers idea of a healthy relationship is then ig but with claire, it literally felt like she was dragging him. that’s just not really something i’m interested in with sydcarmy tbh.

when i thought back on this again, i had a overall question that’s still bothering me. is it a coincidence with marcus pushing syd, it lead him to constant rejection. where with claire pushing carmy, it lead her to constant (reluctant) acceptance???

with marcus saying he missed her too, it pushed syd to freeze when it felt like the moment was too intimate (not appropriate, perhaps?) on the phone. another moment, marcus asks her what she’s doing later. it pushed her to start stumbling over her words and try her best to slowly steer away from it. knowing it wasn’t working, she hesitatingly asks him if that was him asking her out. even in (S2E1), marcus lingered on syd after she asks him about his mother as if he needed approval from syd to make a move that could have very well just pushed sydney’s response to be silence. silence is still an answer/potential rejection unless that person (syd) says otherwise.

with claire, i already mentioned in my second response that claire talks about him owing her.

claire: “and i feel like you really owe me”

in response to carmy’s lack of a response to go to the house party. i already talked about how silence is some kind of answer. those words could have very well pushed carmy into going regardless if it was a joke or not.

then we also have him on the phone with claire (after she got his number without his consent) asking/pushing him to say (one more time)

carmy: “i want you to have my number.”

which lead to her asking him if he was busy. carmy stumbles, looks at the white board (thinking of the fridge guy and maybe even his plans with sydney.) then with the lines:

claire: “can you just not make this weird?”

that could ultimately push him to agree.

all of these pushing scenes both happen in pivotal moments for syd and carmy’s relationships with marcus and claire. it caused marcus to respond negatively when syd ignored him during friends and family in the s2 finale. it caused claire to respond positively when carmy kissed her in the restaurant.

is it a coincidence carmy and syd both froze/hesitated in response to whatever was said on the phone between claire and marcus? those phone call parallels has a clear connection there.

why does carmy’s response takes a lot of convincing/hearing what claire has to say while sydney’s response takes no time to immediately shut down whatever marcus says/would say?

now, we have the s3 trailer where we get to the mutual pushing that carmy wants.

carmy: “it is a partnership agreement. so that, you can push me and i can push you.”

is this an unconscious move because of the pushing he felt with claire?

would claire respond well with pushing from carmy’s side? carmy was very much in the passenger seat with claire (literally and figuratively). we already know that marcus responded positively because he believes syd knows him well enough for her to push him.

in molly’s interview, she said that claire pushing carmy was in response to her possibly being pushed in another relationship. but that doesn’t necessarily mean it would end in a positive response from her if carmy did the pushing.

how can the pushing work in the romantic relationships of sydmarcus and clairecarmy if it isn’t mutual? it just doesn’t seem like syd or carmy want to reciprocate in them.

syd has no problem pushing marcus to copenhagen but doesn’t seem to enjoy being pushed to respond to marcus in regards of dating him. carmy has no problem being pushed (or he does but doesn’t mention it) to do tasks with claire but doesn’t bother to push for an actual date or anything sentimental with her.

all of this has be connected to sydcarmy somehow, especially since the s3 trailer gave us that mutual pushing line.

i suppose we just have to wait and see what s3 has in store for us!!

once again, thank you to anyone who read this. this is my second meta ever so if it has a lot of mistakes, sorry!!

feel free to respond or disagree with me!

episodes mentioned: (s2e1) (s2e3) (s2e4) (s2e5) (s2e9) (s2e10)

#sydcarmy #sydcarmy meta #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #chefs kiss #anti clairecarmy #kinda? #anti sydmarcus #if you squint #the bear fx #the bear meta

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me(part 4)- matt sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), dark themes, death, smut (not in this part)

——————————————————————————

“well its three am. i thought your lazy ass would be asleep” matt sighs “but if you want to go now we can, shes definitely up. let me call her and let her know. be ready in ten minutes.” he emphasizes the ten like a father talking to a child that can’t manage time.

i didn’t even get bitter about it though, instead, my heart pangs at the thought of matt being on good enough terms with a girl to be calling at 3 am. “just the mating bond” i mutter to myself as i peel my clothes from the day before off in exchange for new ones. as soon as i walk out the room, matt is right there.

“awww, is someone jealous? don’t lie, i felt it sweetheart. i wanna hear you say it. say you want matt alll to yourself. go on” he teases me relentlessly causing my cheeks to heat up. “shut up” i groan but then decide to tease him back. lets play on this mating bond thing while i still can

i smirk and walk up to matt and place my hands on his chest. his eyes darken and his hands are clamped to his sides, probably to stop himself from touching me too. i sigh at the fact and then make my move.

“im all yours, matt.” i say seductively. “aren’t you mine?” you question looking up at him with doe eyes. matts gaze darkens even further and he can’t stop himself from grabbing my waist and bringing me closer. he dips his head down and i think he’s going to kiss me. instead he brushes his lips against my ear, “what are you doing to me?” he whispers more to himself then to me. i smirk before pulling away “nothing.” i shrug, “didn’t know the mating bond could take away your ability to answer simple questions”, i add nonchalantly. matt rolls his eyes at this. “you are sooo annoying, i can’t wait till im rid of you” he says turning his back on me and walking, a silent way to tell me to follow. i do, laughing at the effect i have on him.

we walk outside to matts van and are met by chris. “your sitting in the back” matt snips, looking in chris’ direction. “y/n your up front with me” he says choosing to not look at me.

“come on man, your still mad about that?? i was just trying to help!” chris practically whines. matt just huffs and grabs me, practically throwing me in the frontseat. chris climbs into the back dejectedly and i ask whats on my mind.

“chris, not that i mind you here, because i don’t, but why ARE you here?” i question. this was a problem strictly between me and matt. my mind reels at the thought that i actually would have preferred it to just be me and matt. a day ago i literally didn’t want to sit next to him in class….

he sighs and i look back and am suprised by the pain on his face. “my mate was already dead when she was given to me.” he whispers. just by being around matt, i can tell how big of an effect the bond can have, and i can’t imagine how sad he must be at the loss. “i’m so sorry, chris” i say softly. even matt looks sorry for him. he looks at his face through the review mirror while starting to reverse out of the driveway. chris just shakes his head, trying to shake the feelings away.

“its okay, i’m sure madi will be able to make everything go away.” chris offers me a half smile. “i hope so” i say giving him a reassuring smile in return before turning to matt. i roll my eyes at his sour face, he’s clearly jealous but he refrained from saying anything because of the nature of the conversation. “are you going to get jealous every time i talk to ANYONE but you?? he’s your brother! and who the fuck is madi?” i say, cringing at the jealous tone in my voice. matt side eyes me before answering my questions. “can’t exactly help the way i feel, i told you that, so stop punishing me for it. i don’t see chris complaining!” he adds looking for support. “yeah no not at all” chris chirps awkardly at being included in the argument. i’m about to say that chris is just trying to get back in his good graces but matt continues. “and madi’s practically our sister, right chris?” chris nodds in agreement and i sigh. “how exactly is she going to help us?” chris eyes matt suspiciously after i asked.

“what? you didn’t tell her?”he questions and i look to matt, whose eyes are set on the road ahead of us. tell me what??

“shes a witch.” matt says matter of factly.

——————————————————————————

we pull into the driveway and a pretty girl with long black hair is standing outside waiting. sister my ass.

chris runs out of the car to greet her. “MADI!!!” he runs and jumps into her arms sending her into a fit of giggles. i couldn’t help but smile at the sight. maybe shes not so bad after all…

“are you going to get out of the car, or are you gonna stare at my brother some more??” matt snips. “oh my god can you stop with that” i say while climbing out the car. in an instant, madi is by my side.

“Hey, y/n, its nice to meet you. you’re super pretty by the way.” she smiles warmly at me and all my weariness about her fades away. “thank you, so are you” i smile back at her. she turns to matt, who is looking off into the distance pretending to not hear about anything we’re saying. “what brings you here, tough guy?” she knew my name but she didn’t know why i was here?

“i’m looking to get rid of the mating bond between us” he gestures to me and him. madi’s eyes widen slightly. “you know that if you get rid of the bond both of you die, right?” she says questioning why he’s even trying. i spin around to matt, hurt coursing through me. “you’d rather die than be with me?”, my voice wavers with hurt and i hate it. quite frankly, i didn’t want to die either, so he didn’t just put me at risk but both of us. matt grabs my shoulders and shakes them. “relax, i’m not dying for your sorry ass.” he scoffs before turning both me and him back towards madi, “i’m just looking for a cheat code, if there is one.” he says. “i think i know what you mean” she replies and turns beckoning us to follow her into her home. we walk in and i can’t help but oggle at how nice it is. she looks back and sees my face. “you like it?” she laughs. i smile and nod, continuing to look around the house. matt places his hand on my back gently to help guide me. his touch grounds me and i suddenly feel apprehensive about losing this feeling. not him, just the feeling, you think to yourself, trying to justify your emotions

“what are you thinking about?” matts eyebrows are furrowed clearly confused on the sudden onslaught of emotions. “the telepathy shit is a real pain in my ass.” you sigh completely avoiding his question. matt chuckles, “you’re telling me.”

me, matt, and madi end up in a office type space. there’s a desk in the middle of the room and it has a large book in the middle of it. madi puts some glasses on and flicks her wrist. the book goes flying open and lands on a certain page. wow, that was so cool, you gush over her abilities. for a while, the room is completely silent as madi reads. matt grabs my hand and i feel his nervousness surge through me. i don’t know why but something in me wants to comfort him and tell him everythings going to be alright. i don’t though, because lets be honest, i have no idea.

“ahhh, okay” madi starts taking the glasses off her face. “i can take away the symptoms of the bond, like the telepathy and the-“ she clears her throat, “sexual urges” she raises her eyebrows. “andd the death by distance” my own eyebrows raise and she sighs.

“he really didn’t tell you anything did he? if you had spent even a week apart both of your bodies would secumb to the bond. without the other, the bond won’t let either exist” she says matter of factly and i note that she is really well versed in the subject. chris comes in to the office and sits awkwardly in one of the chairs, waiting for me and matt to be done so he could talk to madi.

madi isn’t quite finished telling us about her solution though. “but i can’t take away the other thing” matts grip on my hand tightens and i look up at him. “what’s she talking about??” i say softly seeing his nervous face. “if you die, i die. and your human, so your chances of dying are wayy higher.” he breathes out and an uncontrollable shiver goes through me.

“but its okay, matt, i can do a protection spell on her. nothing will harm her after that, trust me.” she says trying to ease him and i feel his nervousness let up a little. she continues, “its an incantation and i can’t do it until sunrise. its not easy but i can manage” she says confidently. “do you want me too?” she ask softly while looking at our conjoined hands. much to my disliking, matt lets go of me.

“do it.”

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut

[nyxshadowhawk]

A Retrospective on Harry Potter

Why did I like it in the first place? What about it worked? Where do I go from here?

I have decided to give up Harry Potter.

J.K. Rowling’s reputation now stinks to high heaven. At this point, she is quite indefensible. And even if that weren’t the case, she is not someone that I would want to associate with anyway. Meanwhile, the internet has not only turned against her, but against Harry Potter itself. An innocent question on Reddit, about which Hogwarts Houses the ATLA characters would be in, got downvoted to oblivion. Innumerable Tumblr threads insist that fantasy fans should get into literally anything else (suggestions include Discworld, Earthsea, The Wheel of Time, and Percy Jackson). And now that Harry Potter is no longer a sacred cow, there has been a recent slew of video essays that rip it to shreds, attacking it for its poor worldbuilding, unoriginality, and the problematic ideas baked into the original books (like the whole SPEW thing), etc. Those criticisms always existed, but now they’re getting thrown into the limelight.

It pains me to see such an ignoble downfall of Harry Potter’s reputation. If Rowling had just kept her damn mouth shut, Harry Potter would have aged gracefully, becoming a beloved children’s classic. I'd still plan to introduce it to my own kids one day (after Rowling dies and the dust settles). It’s not surprising that not all aspects of it have aged well, since it’s been more than twenty years since its original publishing date, and everything starts to show its age after that long. I acknowledge that most of the criticisms of the series that I’ve seen lately are valid, and I’ve read plenty of better books. And yet, when I return to the books themselves, even with the knowledge of who JKR really is inside my head, I still really enjoy reading them! There’s still a lot about them that I think works!

None of the other things I’ve read have had as collossal of an impact upon my identity, my values, and my own writing as Harry Potter. It’s hard to move on from it, not just because it’s something I enjoy, but because I have to literally extract my identity from it. I don’t know who I’d be without Harry Potter. I don’t know what my work would look like without Harry Potter. I don’t know how to carry it with me as just another piece of media that I like, as opposed to a filter for who I am as a person. So, with all that in mind, I have to ask myself why I liked Harry Potter so much in the first place. If I’m going to move on from it, then I have to be able to define and isolate the things about it that I want to keep with me. Something about it obviously worked, on a massive scale. So what was it?

It’s not the worldbuilding. The worldbuilding is objectively quite terrible, especially in comparison to that of other fantasy writers who knew what they were doing. At best, it’s inconsistent and poorly thought-out, and at worst it’s insensitive or even racist. Is it the characters? The characters are, in my opinion, one of the stronger parts of the story. But I felt very called-out by one of the many online commentators, who said that anyone who identifies with Harry is too cowardly to write self-insert fic. (I do not remember who said it or even which site it was on, but I distinctly remember the phrase, “Reject Harry Potter, embrace Y/N.”) The reason why people get so invested in Harry Potter’s characters is because they’re easy to project upon, and it’s possible that my love of Harry comes more from over a decade’s worth of projection than anything else. The incessant arguments over characters like Snape, Dumbledore, and James Potter ultimately stem from the fact that these characters do not always come across the way Rowling wanted them to. As for the writing itself, it’s decent, but not spectacular. Harry Potter is something of a sandbox world, with less substance than it appears to have and a crapton of missed opportunities, making it ripe for fanfic. For more than ten years, I’ve been doing precisely that — using Harry Potter as a jumping-off point to fill in the gaps and develop my own ideas, some of which became my original projects.

So what does Harry Potter actually have that sets it apart? Why are people so desperate to be part of Harry Potter’s world if the worldbuilding is bad? What, specifically, is so compelling about it? I think that there’s one answer, one thing that is at the center of Potter-mania, and that has been the underlying drive of my love of it for the past decade and a half: the vibe.

Harry Potter’s vibe is immaculate.

You know what I mean, right? It’s not actually a product of any specific trope, but rather a series of aesthetic elements: The wizarding school in a grand castle, with its pointed windows and torches and suits of armor, ghosts and talking portraits and moving staircases, its Great Hall with floating candles and a ceiling that looks like the night sky, its hundreds of magically-concealed secret doorways. Dumbledore’s Office, behind the gryphon statue, with armillary spheres in every single shot. Deliberate archaisms that evoke the Middle Ages without going as far as a Ren Faire: characters wearing heavy robes, writing with quills and ink on parchment instead of paper, drinking from goblets, decorating with tapestries. Owls, cats, toads. Cauldrons simmering in a dungeon laboratory. Shelves piled with dusty tomes, scrolls, glass vials, crystal balls, hourglasses. Magical candy shaped like insects and amphibians. A library with a restricted section. A forbidden forest full of unicorns and werewolves. That is the Vibe.

There are five armillary spheres just in this shot. They are unequivocally the most Wizard of tabletop decor.

There’s more to it than just the aesthetic, though. The vibe is present in something that writers call soft worldbuilding.

There’s a phrase that writers use to describe magic systems, coined by Brandon Sanderson: hard magic and soft magic. Sanderson’s first law of magic is, “An author’s ability to solve problems with magic is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.” A hard magic system has clearly-defined rules — you know where magic comes from, how it works and under which conditions, how the characters can use it, and what its limitations are. Examples of really good hard magic systems include Avatar: The Last Airbender and Fullmetal Alchemist. If the audience doesn’t understand the conditions under which magic can work, then using magic to get out of any kind of scrape risks feeling like the writer pulled something out of their ass. It begs the question, “Well, if they could do that, then why didn’t they do that before?”

You may come away from that thinking that having clearly-defined rules is always better worldbuilding than not having them, but this isn’t the case. Soft magic isn’t fully explained to the audience, but that doesn’t matter, because it isn’t trying to solve problems — its purpose is to be evocative. Soft magic enhances the atmosphere of a world by creating a sense of wonder. If your everyman protagonist is constantly running into cool magical shit that they don’t understand, then the world feels like it teems with magic, magic that is greater and more powerful than they know, leaving lots of secrets to uncover. Harry Potter, at least in the early books, excels at this. The soft magic in Harry Potter is what got me hooked, and I think it’s what a lot of other people liked about it, too.

The essence of soft magic is best summed up by this scene in the fourth film, in which Harry enters the Weasleys’ tiny tent at the Quidditch World Cup, only to find that it’s much bigger on the inside. His reaction is to smile and say, “I love magic.”

That’s it. That’s the essence of it. You don’t need to know the exact spell that makes the tent bigger on the inside. You don’t need to know how Dumbledore can make the food appear on the table with a flick of a wand, or how he can make a bunch of poofy sleeping bags appear with another flick. You don’t need to know how and why the portraits or wizard cards move. You don’t need to know how wizards can appear and disappear on a whim, or what the Deluminator is, or where the Sword of Gryffindor came from. You don’t need to know how the Room of Requirement works. Knowing these things defeats the purpose. It kills the vibe, that vibe being that there is a large and wondrous magical world around you that will always have more to discover.

One of the best “soft magic” moments in the books comes early in Philosopher’s Stone, when Harry is trying to navigate Hogwarts for the first time:

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was sure the coats of armor could walk. —Philosopher’s Stone, Chapter 8

Many of these details don’t come back later in the series, which is a shame, because this one paragraph is super evocative! It establishes Hogwarts as an inherently magical place, in which the very architecture doesn’t conform to normal rules. Hogwarts seems like it would be exciting to explore (assuming you weren’t late for class), and it gets even better when you learn about all the secret rooms and passages. The games capitalized on this by building all the secret rooms behind bookcases, mirrors, illusory walls, etc. into the game world, and rewarding you for finding them. The utter fascination that produces is hard to overstate.

Another one of the most evocative moments in the first book is when Harry sees Diagon Alley for the first time, after passing through the magically sealed brick wall (the mechanics of which, again, are never explained). This is your first proper glimpse at the wizarding world and what it has to offer:

Harry wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, “Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad....” A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium — Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand — fastest ever —" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon.... —Philosopher’s Stone, Chapter 5

What works so well here is the magical weirdness of wizardishness juxtaposed against normalcy. Eeylops Owl Emporium is just a pet shop to wizards. A woman makes a very mundane complaint about the price of goods, but the goods happen to be dragon liver. Broomsticks are treated like cars. All of these small moments contribute to the feeling of the wizarding world being alive, inhabited, and also magical. It gets you to ask the question of what your life would be like if you were a wizard. What do wizards wear? What do they eat? What do they haggle over and complain about? What do they do for fun?

In Book 3, Harry enjoys Diagon Alley for a few weeks when he suddenly has free time, and we get to experience the wizarding world in a state of “normalcy,” when he isn’t trying to save the world. He gets free ice creams from Florean Fortescue, gazes longingly at the Firebolt, and engages with delightfully weird people. He’s a wizard, living a (briefly) normal wizard life among other wizards in wizard-land. And that is fun. It’s so fun, that people want that experience for themselves, enough for there to be several theme parks and other immersive experiences dedicated to recreating the world of Harry Potter.

One of the greatest things about Universal was its phenomenal attention to detail. You can hear Moaning Myrtle’s voice in the women’s bathroom, and only the women’s bathroom. The walls of the Three Broomsticks have shadows of a broom sweeping by itself and an owl flying projected against the wall, so convincingly that you’ll do a double take when you see it. Knockturn Alley is down a little secret tunnel off of the main street, and that’s where you have to go to buy Dark Arts-themed stuff. It’s really well done.

Another thing that contributes to the vibe, in my opinion, is that the wizarding world is slightly macabre. They eat candy shaped like frogs, flies, mice, and so forth, and they have gross-tasting jellybeans. In the film’s version of the Diagon Alley sequence above, there’s a random shot of a pet bat available for purchase. In the third film, when Harry is practicing the Patronus Charm with Lupin, the candles are shaped like human spines. In the first book, this is Petunia’s description of Lily’s behavior after she became a witch:

Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that school, and came home every holiday with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! —Philosopher’s Stone, Chapter 4

I remember reading this for the first time, and it just kind of made intuitive sense to me. I suppose it fits into the “eye of newt and toe of frog” association between magical people and gross things, but somehow it works. Unfortunately, this is retconned later with the knowledge that wizards can’t use magic outside school, but before that limitation gets imposed, the idea of Lily amusing herself by turning teacups into rats seems like an inherently witchy thing to do.

That association between magic and the macabre shows up elsewhere, as well. In The Owl House, Luz’s interest in gross things is one of the things that marks her as a “weirdo” in the real world. When she goes to the magical world of the Boiling Isles, weird and gross stuff is absolutely everywhere. That world’s vibe leans more towards the macabre than the whimsical, but it works because you sort of expect the gross stuff to exist alongside the concept of witches, and that they would be an intrinsic part of the world they inhabit. You don’t question it, because it’s part of the vibe.

(The Owl House is one of the few things I’ve encountered that has a similar vibe to Harry Potter, but it’s still not the same vibe. In fact, The Owl House outright mocks the expectation that magical worlds be whimsical, and directly mocks Harry Potter more than once. The overall vibe is much closer to Gravity Falls.)

The Harry Potter films utilize a lot of similar soft worldbuilding with the background details, especially in the early films that were still brightly-colored and whimsical. For example, the scene in Flourish and Blotts in the second film has impossibly-stacked piles of books and old-timey looking signs describing their subjects, which include things like “Celestial Studies” and “Unicorns.” When Harry arrives in the Burrow in the same film, one of the first things he sees is dishes washing themselves and knitting needles working by themselves, taking completely mundane things and instantly establishing them as magical. In that Patronus scene with Harry and Lupin, the spine-candles and a bunch of random orbs (and the obligatory giant armillary sphere) float around in the background. One small detail that I personally appreciate is the designs on the walls above the teacher’s table in the Great Hall, which are from an alchemical manuscript called the Ripley Scroll:

It’s all these little things that add up to produce The Vibe.

Obviously, much of the vibe is expressed very well in John Williams’ score for the first three Harry Potter films. The mystical minor key of the main theme, the tinkly glockenspiel, the strings, the rising and falling notes that mimic the fluttering of an owl, the flight of a broomstick, or the waving of a wand. That initial shot of the castle across the lake as the orchestra swells, as the children arrive at their wizarding school:

If you grew up with Harry Potter, just looking at this image gives you The Vibe. The nostalgia hit is definitely part of it, but The Vibe was already there, back when you were a child and you didn’t have nostalgia yet.

In my opinion, only Williams’ score captures this vibe — the later films, though their scores are very good, do not. But the soundtrack of the first two video games, by Jeremy Soule (the same person who did Skyrim) absolutely nails it. This, right here, is Harry Potter’s vibe, condensed and distilled:

This is why I feel invalidated by the common advice “just read another book.” I have read other books. I’ve read plenty of other books, many of which are wonderfully written and have left an impact on me. But there’s still only one Harry Potter. To date, there’s only other book that has filled me with a similarly intense longing for a fictional place, and that is The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. That book deliberately prioritized atmosphere over everything else in the story, and actually lampshades this in-universe. The Night Circus has a plot and it has characters, but it’s not about its plot or characters. It’s about the setting and its atmosphere. It swallows you up and transports you to a fictional place that is so evocative and so magical that you just have to be part of it or you’ll die. And even then, The Night Circus has a different kind of vibe from Harry Potter. In this particular capacity, there’s nothing else like Harry Potter.

The thing is, I don’t think Rowling was being as deliberate as Erin Morgenstern. (In fact, given many of Rowling’s recent statements, I question how many of her creative choices were deliberated at all.) She was throwing random magical stuff into the background without thinking too hard about it, which works when you’re writing a kids’ story, but stops working when you try to age it up. Actually, scratch that — soft worldbuilding is definitely not just for kids! The Lord of the Rings has a soft magic system, for crying out loud, and Tolkien is the original archmage of worldbuilding. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you that prioritizing atmosphere over meticulousness is bad worldbuilding. That is a valid way to worldbuild! Not everything needs to be clearly explained, not everything needs to make sense. The problem is that Harry Potter doesn’t balance it well. Certain things do have to be explained in order for the magic to play an active role in the story (and the setting of a magic school lends itself to that kind of explanation), but no rules are ever established for the kinds of magic that need rules. When you begin thinking about the rules, you’re no longer just enjoying the magic for what it is. At worst, you begin running up against the Willing Suspension of Disbelief.

It wasn’t actually the “aging up” of the story that did it in, per se, but rather, the introduction of realism. The early books were heavily stylized, and the later books were less so. A heavily stylized story can more easily maintain the Willing Suspension of Disbelief. That’s why, for example, you don’t ask why the characters are singing in a musical — you just sort of accept the story’s outlandish internal logic, and the inherent melodrama of it doesn’t take you out of the story. Stylized stories are more concerned with being emotionally consistent over being logically consistent. The later Harry Potter books changed their emotional tone, but without changing the worldbuilding style to compensate.

In addition to the more mature themes and darker tone, Harry Potter introduced more realism as it went, but Rowling did not have the worldbuilding chops to pull this off. There’s the basic magic system stuff: When you begin thinking about it too hard, something like a Time-Turner stops being a fun magical device, and starts threatening to break the entire story. Then there’s the characters: Dumbledore leaving Harry on the Dursleys’ doorstep in the first book is an age-old fairy tale trope that goes unquestioned, but with the introduction of realism in the later books, it suddenly becomes abandonment of a child to an abusive family. The exaggerated stereotypes of characters like the Dursleys become tone-deaf. The fun school rivalry of the House system is suddenly lacking in nuance. And then there’s the shift in tone: The wizarding world that we were introduced to as a marvellous place is revealed to be dystopian. You start thinking about how impractical things like owl messengers are, you start wondering if Slytherin is being unjustly punished, the bad history appears glaringly obvious, the quaint archaisms become dangerously regressive. Oh, and the grand feasts are made through slave labor! The wizarding world suddenly feels small and backward instead of grand and marvellous. J.K. Rowling’s bigotry throws it all into an even harsher light.

This is why I’ve always preferred the early books and films to the later ones. There’s a lot of things I like about the later ones, but they’re not as stylized — they don’t have The Vibe. Thinking about things too hard is just a necessary condition of adulthood, but it’s still possible to tell a dark, mature story that is highly stylized. I really think JKR could have better pulled off that shift if she was a more competent worldbuilder. But it is painfully obvious that she did not think things through, and probably didn’t understand why she had to. In her defense, she did not know that her story would end up being one of the most scrutinized of all time. As it stands, her strength in worldbuilding was in the softer, smaller, deliberately unexplained moments of magic that were there just to provide atmosphere. And there were less and less of those as the books went along.

Pretty much all the Harry Potter-related content released since the last film — including Cursed Child, Fantastic Beasts, Hogwarts Mystery, Hogwarts Legacy, Magic Awakened, and that short-lived Pokemon Go thing — have been unsuccessful attempts at recreating The Vibe. In fact, the only piece of supplemental Potter content that I think had that Vibe down pat was the original Pottermore, back when it was more of an interactive game. And of course that got axed. That was right around the time things started going downhill.

Some of the art from Pottermore’s original Sorting quiz.

So what now? Well, that’s the question.

I think I can safely say that The Vibe was the reason I liked Harry Potter. It’s the thing I still like the most about it. I’ve spent years chasing it, like an elusive Patronus through a dark wood. If I can capture and distill that Vibe, and use drops of it in my own work, then perhaps I won’t need Harry Potter anymore.

I'm gonna write the story that I wish Harry Potter was, and when I'm a famous author, I won't become a bigot. I'll see you on the other side.

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter analysis #j.k. rowling #jk rowling #anti jkr #fuck jkr #screw jkr #anti jk rowling #fuck jk rowling #writing #worldbuilding #soft worldbuilding #soft magic #magic system #fantasy worldbuilding #fantasy writing #moving on from harry potter #moving past harry potter #long post #wizard #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #wizarding world #vibes #analysis #Youtube

[dyns33]

In the stars and the Book

So people wanted a new Dream of the Endless story for today. I hope you will like it !

It was rare for Destiny to give advice.

For several good reasons, which his family understood well, even if they were sometimes annoyed or disappointed that he did not break the rules to help them in difficult times.

His interventions were never really his doing, but permitted by his Book, if not obligatory.

More than any other member of the Endless, Destiny was fully and entirely his function. He loved his siblings though.

He always showed a small, almost imperceptible smile when he had the opportunity to help his family, who always listened attentively.

This time, Dream was the lucky one who received a call from Destiny's gallery.

Of course he was going to answer, it was part of his responsibilities. He'd had some problems since the Magnus had captured him, freed himself, gotten his tools back, rebuilt his kingdom, and ever since he'd felt a little empty.

His brother's call could be excellent news, or the start of new troubles. But he was going to answer anyway.

As always, Destiny greeted him quickly, not leaving his book and not clearly answering his questions. This was not what was supposed to happen.

Then, when Dream was calmer, he finally looked at him.

“Y/N.”

"The witch ? What about her ?"

“You will know happiness, true happiness, until your end, after she gives you a kiss.”

Morpheus remained stoic as he knew how to do so well, despite the storm that was brewing within him. The people of the Dreaming must have been totally panicked, even if they were used to their creator being quite upset after an encounter with any Endless other than Death.

“Goodbye, little brother.” was the last thing Destiny said, already turning his back on him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His relationship with Y/N ​​had always been complicated. They had almost killed each other the first time they spoke. A real disaster. But she was still young, while he had yet to learn patience and empathy.

No doubt he was also too romantic, since he no longer even remembered the reason for their argument, but only her eyes full of passion, her hand on his cheek when she had the audacity to slap him, her perfume when she had vanished into thin air, vowing never to see him again.

They had seen each other again, several times, without ever doing it on purpose, as if fate was doing everything for them to end up together.

Over time, their exchanges had become more cordial, almost friendly. Dream had to recognize that Lucienne, Hob, his sister, many people had helped him a lot to realize the value of this little witch, who had also helped him on many occasions.

Yet he never thought he would feel love for Y/N. Admiration, affection, a need to protect her, but love ? Dream had often been in love. At least he thought he was.

It was true that each of his relationships had ended like shooting stars, passing very quickly, before burning and disappearing into nothingness.

His big brother had just revealed to him the secret of a certain, infinite happiness, a happiness that he seemed to deserve against all expectations, he who had ended up thinking that he was made to remain alone. There was no reason to hesitate.

Y/N clearly had some hesitations.

Despite his many advances, he still didn't seem to know that it was not proper for mortals to appear in a living room uninvited or unannounced.

First misstep, because it was not by scaring his sweetheart that he was going to succeed in seducing her. The poor thing even asked him what she had done, convinced that he was coming to punish her.

“I’m not here for ill reasons.” he tried to reassure her. "I needed to see you. It's been a long time, I forgot how beautiful you were, χαρα μου."

"… Is everything okay ? You need a spell and you're hoping it'll be for free ? You know, I heard what happened to you. It's not pity at all, but maybe I can lower my prices for you this time."

"Your concern touches me. But I don't need anything except you. I think we could be happy together."

"Wow. Okay, you're dying."

He was going to have to use all his wooing skills to get her to kiss him.

Certainly he could have kissed her, here, right away, but his brother had been clear. It was she who had to give him this liberating kiss.

Even though Dream was now sure of his feelings, Y/N probably needed a little more time. She hadn't received Destiny's advice.

Despite all his many improvements since his release, patience had never been Dream's strong point. Yet he was literally the expectation, the hope, all the ideas, the stories, the fantasies of humanity. Not getting the promised happiness right away shouldn't have bothered him so much.

Plus, beginnings were always the most exciting part. Observe Y/N responding positively to his advances, his compliments, his gifts. However, she remained suspicious, expecting a game or a disguised exchange of good behavior.

The witch set traps for him, to reveal his true intentions. The master of nightmares found this charming and amusing at first. Then Morpheus was a little hurt and exasperated that she didn't seem as infatuated with him as he was with her.

"… You say you love me ?"

"Indeed."

"Since when ? The last time we parted, I stole several of your books and you threatened to hang me. Fortunately your librarian likes me. I returned the books to her by the way. I don't t think we can be together, we'll end up tearing each other's heads off."

"It has to happen though. Destiny said we were meant to be together."

"… What ?"

The news did not please the little witch at all. She was making fun of him, but she wasn't necessarily having a bad time. Their arguments had become like a form of dance, a nuptial ritual.

Why did he always have to ruin everything ? He, the prince of stories, really had a problem with his choice of words.

He tried to hold her back, explaining that what his brother said had to happen, it wasn't his fault.

Seeing the tears in her eyes silenced him. The last thing he wanted to be hurt her, this vision pierced his heart.

"I can't believe I could be so stupid."

"You don't understand… We can be happy, together. Love each other."

"No. I loved you. And I thought maybe you loved me too, finally. But you're here out of obligation, like always. I never want to see you again ! I'm serious this time !"

There was no spell in the world that could hide a being thinking of Dream of the Endless. Those who thought always ended up dreaming, entering his kingdom.

Yet he left her sleep in peace, the rare times Y/N closed her eyes, trembling every night at the idea of ​​finding him in her dreams.

He wondered if she was right. If he only chased after her because his brother had put him on this path, and not by choice. By feeling. It was true that he hadn't asked himself the question before Destiny called him, and he had rushed straight to the front of his happiness.

Now that he was fully taking the time to think about it, knowing that the witch had loved him in silence all this time, that he had hurt her, that she deserved better than that, he thought that he had undoubtedly always loved her more than the others.

He loved her so much that he kept his distance, because everyone he wanted ended up leaving him, suffering, or dying. And he didn't want that for her, never for her. His tender Y/N, brave, intelligent, lively little witch. Who treated him normally, standing up to him without fear, making him see his missteps.

A whole week passed, before he showed up at her place, this time knocking on the door and waiting for it to open.

He raised his hand in a peace sign as soon as their eyes met, making no move to try and enter.

"χαρα μου… I'm sorry. For my behavior, and for my presence here, when you clearly expressed your hatred for me. But I owed you this apology, and as punishment, I agree not to see you again. Thus, I condemn myself to never knowing happiness, which I do not deserve after all. My brother did not say that you could not be happy with another. Just know that I loved every moment spent with you, and I will cherish them until the end. If it wasn't happiness, it looked like it."

"… Is this a ruse to get me to fall under your spell again ?"

"No. I still find it hard to believe that you could have loved a being such as myself. I don't think I would have ever imagined it, even in my wildest creations. My brother must have known, he who knows all."

"Hob says you're a sweet fool, full of pride, but with just as much kindness, fear and humanity deep down."

“I will have to think about visiting my dear friend very soon.” Dream said while keeping a stoic face.

This made Y/N laugh. Her magnificent laugh, accompanied by a smile that she gave him too rarely. He would populate the nights of many dreamers tonight.

But for now, Morpheus wondered if he was awake, seeing her continue to smile at him, placing her hand on his cheek. They had never touched each other like this, not once, since their first meeting.

"Don't sulk, it wasn't a criticism. I knew I could only love you when he assured me that you weren't as terrible as you showed yourself. A facade, necessary because of your status."

“I’m not sulking, I’m not…”

The kiss was quick. Morpheus would remember it until his sister took the whole universe with her. Those lips on his. All this love, for him, all this time, contained in a simple kiss.

He remained as still as a marble statue, which made her smile again. Then Y/N kissed him on the cheek this time, whispering that they could go to the New Inn for a drink, before closing the door.

"… Boss ?"

“Yes Matthew ?”

"You've been here for three hours, people on the street are starting to notice you. Are you going to stay long ?"

“Until my love came out and we went to the New Inn for a drink.”

"Yeah, I don't know if your brother helped you or not, but if the witch finds it cute and not creepy, that will be proof that you two are indeed meant to be together."

Y/N found this both creepy and adorable. The poor raven returned to the Dreaming with a sigh to announce the great news, although the bright sky was not unwelcome.

It was very often a magnificent weather in the future, and until the end.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless fanfiction #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless imagine

[sh3llshiftie]

Hii, I have been shifting since 2019 (I was on toxic shifttok), and have shifted for a small amount of times, 3-5 times, (all 3-5 times, 1 day or less), but I was wondering how I would ditch all of the things i know about shifting, and start fresh?

I don't know how and have been struggling with it, and I haven't shifted in a year since my last shift, so sorry if you already answered this question, I'm fairly new to shifting tumblr and I finally ditched shifttok 🥳😂

(also if you do anons can I claim 🌸?)

🏖️ Q&A🏖️

Okay so basically I literally hate shifttok it’s so toxic and manipulative so congratulations on moving to here!! I can tell you the one creator on there I do trust with my life though is Peter (clickable link there) He is amazing at explaining everything about shifting and he’s funny!🐚🩵

Warning this is going to be long so I’m sorry!😅

Now for ditching everything you know about it and restarting, I’d suggest completely changing how you do your day to day life in this reality! So for example: I used to only try shifting at night and I wouldn’t really affirm anything throughout the day because that’s what dumbass TikTok told me.

What I do now: In the morning immediately as I wake up I start affirming “I’m in my desired reality” and I do tasks that my dr self would do, I also think about things I have to do in my dr like brush my horse or fill my pets food dishes. You want to continue doing this for a couple days and you’ll slowly get into the habit of doing it even when you don’t notice! (fake it till you make it) That will slowly reprogram your mind. I also remind myself throughout the day that.. I DO NOT NEED A ‘METHOD’, AND I DONT NEED TO LISTEN TO SUBLIMINALS!!😤😤 Shifting is as simple as telling yourself “I’m in my *dr name* desired reality” and if you believe you’re there- you will be there!

Also I’d like to say that meditation=shifting. If you meditate, you will shift. As long as you have intention, you know where you want to go and you believe with all your little heart- you’ll shift!

IF YOU NEED ANYMORE HELP FEEL FREE TO ASK MORE QUESTIONS!

Also of course you can claim 🌸 I don’t mind at all! 🩵🩵🩵

#reality shifting #sh3ll talks shifting #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #shifting community #shifting help #shifting realities #shifting tips #shifting to desired reality #shifting script #shifting methods #shifting motivation #shifting diary #desired reality #shifting question

[raccoonface]

“T-Tara?”

______________————————_____________

Warnings- angst or fluff, idk tbh I haven’t decided. Swearing, idk what else

And yes. This is a series.

Summary- Y/n and Tara have a crush on each other and go to great lengths to make sure they have them all to themselves.

————————______________———————-

Masterlist Part One Part Two…(coming soon)

______________————————_____________

Tara was skipping. Again. A habit that became because of her friend Amber. Tara and Amber are best friends, they’ve been since middle school.

Tara was skipping English class because Amber convinced her she already had a good enough grade to pass the last semester of high school. Let’s just say Tara’s a little gullible…

While skipping class Tara and Amber were hiding underneath the bleachers. Amber said she wanted to show Tara something.

“Hey Tara!”

“Hey Amber!”

They were whispering because of an ongoing gym class that was active around them.

“I have something to show you”

“I know we’ve talked about this Amber”

“Yeah but you know”

“Just hurry up and show me”

Tara kept on hurrying because she had never been skipping underneath the bleachers before.

“Alright.”

Amber had brought out her phone from her back pocket to show Tara something.

-WHISTLEEEEEEE-

“HEY WHAT ARE YALL LADIES DOING UNDERNEATH THE BLEACHERS”

“Amber! What do we do?!”

“…. We run”

They both bolted off accidentally leaving Tara’s backpack

———————————————————————

After they bolted off they ended up outside of school in a park.

“A-Amber”

Tara was having a little asthma attack after all of that running

“Yeah? Wait where’s your bag at?!” Amber obviously not focused on the more important subject.

“I-I need… my inhaler”

She was taking big breaths in between the words

“Oh shit right my bad,”

Amber was looking everywhere but couldn’t find her inhaler Tara gave her

“Damn it”

“Hey!”

Some Random person came up to them

“You look a little out of breath… here.”

The polite stranger gave her their inhaler. Tara was taking a puff of the inhaler while Amber was just apologizing and thanking the person

“I am so so so so so so sorry Tara I didn’t mean to not bring your extra inhaler… and thank you you so so so so so much for lending her your inhaler.”

Amber was really hoping Tara didn’t hate her after this but that’s kinda implied.

“Yeah thanks for letting me use it”

“Of course no problem. It’s not even mine I just keep it in case someone needs it” Quite a charm of course

“Huh… that’s handy” As if she had one on her at the time.

“Maybe you should start doing that Amber” And of course Tara has to go at Amber for not remembering her inhaler.

“Tara!”

“Just saying” She could’ve died.

“Alright so I’m gonna go then if you’re Okay.” She started to walk away

“Wait! What’s your name?” A little bit of a weird question to ask when you’re probably never gonna see the person again.

“My names Y/n… what’s yours?” Let’s just say Y/n was a little weirded out.

“Uh.. Tara… Tara Carpenter”

“Nice to meet you Tara” Y/n’s gotta be polite to someone who almost just died… somewhat at least

“Nice to meet you too”

Amber was looking at them and smirking as Y/n left. Tara turned around and saw this then rolled her eyes.

“You’re so weird Amber”

“Maybe but not as weird as you were with Y/n~”

“What are you even talking about?” Tara started to get a little defensive after the statement Amber made.

“I have no idea what you’re saying Amber.”

“You know what I mean” Amber’s always teasing Tara.

“Still have no idea”

“God, you’re really helpless” Tara really is isn’t she?

——————————————————————

Y/ns POV

That was weird. Some random girl was having an asthma attack. I mean I gave her my extra inhaler but she seemed to be a little busy with her friend.

She was kinda cute though… what the hell are you thinking Y/n you’ll probably never see her again anyways.

I mean even if I never do again I’m glad I at least got her name. Tara. Tara Carpenter. Would it be bad if I went searching up her name?

Nah I don’t think so. It doesn’t harm anyone, does it? I put my bets on no…. I dont really know where my phones at though… that’s a little problem.

I should try and find that girl tomorrow. Maybe get her number. I should be worrying about that some time tomorrow and not right now. Because right now I need to find my phone.

Wait a minute… I’m literally using it as a flashlight… I’m a literal dumbass. Ugh. But it is time to go home. I guess I should probably start heading in that direction.

I’m so tired that I’m turning more delusional. I think I might be dying… oh well. I need my bed I wish I could just teleport there ugh.

———————————————————————

Tara’s POV

Jeez getting back into the gym was rough. I gotta get my bag.. hopefully they left it here.

“Aha!” They did! I was so scared they took it to the lost and found or something. I really should get out of here though. It’s getting kinda late.

The way in I took is a little while from the gym but I guess I could just take the way out from the gym… hopefully they don’t see me on the cameras tomorrow.

The gyms behind me now and I can’t stop thinking about that girl, Y/n I think her name was. She was super pretty. I’m just wondering why she was in such a rush. She also gave me a rush… but yet again that could just be from the inhaler she gave me

I still have it actually… I don’t know if I should return it or something. Wait she said to keep it.. she’s so nice. So beautiful. And smart. Well from what I know so far because bringing an extra inhalers pretty smart.

The way to my house is just over this bridge. It’s not too far away. Looking back at where I came from is a little bit farther away then I thou-

“Woah!” And of course I crash into somebody.

“Oh shit. Are you alright?” This person- wait it’s that girl- Y/n I mean.

“Yeah- yeah I’m good”

“You sure? You took a little tumble.. here let me help you up.” Y/n was built to be a goddess i just know it.

“Mhm… I’m sorry I wasn’t really looking where i was going.”

“Please it happens all the time don’t sweat it” Y/n’s perfect. Ughhhh I need to stop…. But I don’t really want to…

“Right.”

“I guess I should get going now. I’m thinking you should too probably” so thoughtful…

“Huh?.. oh yeah I should” my dumbass ‘oh yeah I should’ who the fuck says that ugh.

“Alright… bye”

“Yeah…. Bye I guess” Tara fucking Carpenter you need to stop it.

Time to go home now though. I really need to work on talking to her better. Really surprised I ran into her though… I wonder why that happened.

Probably shouldn’t think about it too much… I gotta get some sleep.

“Home sweet Home!” Finally.

————————______________———————-

A/n-

DANG IT….. IM TWO DAYS BEHIND SCHEDULE….. AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

that’s my bad I’ve been way too busy these past few days to even go on my phone. I just went to Niagara Falls yesterday and the day before that I was busy with a lot of homework.

But it’s here now so ENJOY!!!

There will be a part two within time.. I have a lot planned for this story…

#jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #ghostface!tara #jenna ortega smut #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader

[bestworstcase]

Oh okay, i see your point better now, sorry if the "hating Ozpin" thing looked like a excuse to start a fight btw! One last thing, do you have any opinions on Tyrian?

o7 no worries

tyrian is, imo, so far the least interesting of salem’s inner circle primarily because we don’t yet have any idea of his backstory beyond that he went on a killing spree in mistral and later burst into tears and started worshipping salem on sight, as per his arrest file. whether we ever get more than that remains to be seen—and in and of itself "faunus with dangerous trait growing up in the place notorious for being virulently bigoted" might be enough to make someone crack, if he didn’t have anybody in his life to counterbalance the evil way humans would’ve treated him throughout his life.

but i would ideally like to know a little bit more about his background. not like backstory-episode levels because that’s far out of scope for his degree of importance but like we know a lot more about watts’s history and the background with hazel and gretchen is carrying a lot of narrative weight (and may continue to do so if i’m right about gretchen having been the last spring maiden).

this post is about mercury but it does touch on what currently interests me most about tyrian, which is that he’s a narrative foil to mercury and specifically a twisted ideal form of the (false) nihilistic self mercury projects—a living weapon with no conscience whose purpose in life is to be pointed at the enemy and obey without question. this is what mercury pretends to be and what tyrian gladly chooses to be. also i want to see what happens if jax uses his semblance on tyrian.

his rivalry with qrow could also develop in an interesting direction in vacuo—i’m not 100% convinced it will, because qrow’s big moment of growth in v8 is about letting go of vengeance, but if tyrian crosses his path in vacuo it’s not like he’ll hold back lmao—because what kicked it off back in v4 was that tyrian couldn’t faze him. a lot of tyrian’s power in combat arises from his cackling unhinged behavior, it’s off-putting and strange and unpredictable and that knocks his opponents off their game, except for qrow; when qrow just calmly decks him and kicks him away tyrian stops laughing and cowers because he doesn’t know what to do and his vengeance in v7 involves pushing qrow into an emotional enough state that he loses his focus and tyrian can shock him by stabbing clover in the back. so now (in tyrian’s mind) they’re even. what happens the next time they meet? there’s a lot of narrative curveballs that could be thrown here.

um his allusion to the scorpion is also something i roll around in my head a lot, because he’s long since killed his frog… but there’s an older version of the story where the scorpion asks a turtle for passage across the river, and the turtle of course isn’t harmed by the sting and so drowns the scorpion on purpose out of disgust with its refusal to control itself. and well. the fanatic nature of tyrian’s devotion to salem feels like he’s one shattering disappointment—like say, finding out he’s mistaken about what she wants?—away from snapping and attacking her, or perhaps going for cinder (<- i think this is foreshadowed pretty unsubtly by that scene in 4.11), and then salem. er. flattens him. scorpion, turtle. if he’s killed i expect it’ll either be gillian (whose semblance is the inverse and natural counter to his) or salem (immortal) who does it.

i do sort of expect that he’ll reveal a new layer or two in the vacuo arc simply because he’s one of the very few notable characters who has hitherto not really wavered from being what he says on the tin—watts and hazel both had a bit more depth and with tyrian taking point in vacuo and evidently infiltrating the crown, the narrative opportunity to do the same with him is right there. so…

[heartstopperthoughts]

I’m curious about how you found Heartstopper! Like what’s your Heartstopper origin story?

I first read Heartstopper in Jan 2021. The third volume had just won the Goodreads reader’s choice award for best graphic novel, and I was wanting to read more queer stories and more graphic novels so I thought perfect! Two birds with one stone!

I ended up LOVING it way more than I thought I would, and my timing was perfect because right around the time I got caught up with the most recent updates online, THE SHOW GOT GREEN LIT!!! I remember literally screaming and throwing my phone across the room and dancing with joy.

Flash forward to now and I’ve got brainrot from reading it 20ish times and watching it 5 times, but I have no plans of stopping anytime soon.

#I think I’m going to start asking questions more on here because I want to interact with everyone more #the responses to that post I did asking how many times people had watched Heartstopper MADE MY DAY #also I feel so lucky to have Instagram stalked the cast from the day they were announced #if you only started following them after the show you missed some golden content #does anyone remember the kitconnorswagchallenge where everyone was bullying him by sharing pictures of themselves wearing sunglasses? #or Christmastime when joe had covid and kept doing Instagram q and a’s and complaining about how bored he was #or whenever they went to their first awards show together (I swear it was like February) #and they were taking pictures like Bash and Kit were Joe’s bodyguards 😂 #or just generally the ease they all had joining in with the fandom in the comments sections of everything #it was just a golden era where the cast felt like a secret #Heartstopper #heartstopper tv

[arthur-r]

hi so this started as a life update and then turned into a major vent and i am very sorry so i am putting it under a cut. content warning for medical stuff and surgery and also college and also generally being upset

oh hey arthur update the medical issues i’ve been vaguing about for the past like week are officially not life threatening or anything and will be getting resolved in a surgery this tuesday. so recovering from that will be a super fun way to spend the last three weeks leading into my senior year, which i really badly overbooked with babysitting nearly every day and working my pizza job extra hours, both of which jobs are the kind where just calling in sick for one day causes actual problems for real people in ways that other jobs maybe wouldn’t. so i’m taking off both my jobs on the actual day of the surgery but otherwise i’m just. powering through it all

#starting on monday i’m taking on a whole other family to babysit on top of everything else!! wasn’t planning on a surgery in the midst #on the bright side maybe the money i make from the extra work will maybe possibly kinda sorta make a dent in the fees for all the #surgery and appointment costs even my fifteen minute visit at the cvs pharmacy cost a hundred freaking dollars #so umm let’s hope that the working i’ve been doing this summer amounts to a little more than just. not being in debt #also the family i babysit for hasn’t texted me back after i told them i had to schedule the surgery during a time i was supposed to be #babysitting. and i think they will understand but i feel terrible because they’re supposed to be able to count on me #and i also don’t want them to know i have a surgery because then they will ask me questions and i want my relationship with this family #to start and end with how i do puzzles with their kids. i don’t want to talk to them about scary personal stuff #plus what if they try to send me a care package or something they think i’m a cis girl named ari they wouldn’t know they have to be discreet #and i don’t want people irl to know about the surgery before it happens because then they’ll ask to see it and i don’t want them to see it #because at work i’ve been wearing a mask and nobody knows i’ve had a potentially cancerous growth for a freaking month #and anyway it’s not cancer or anything it’s just my stupid macrophages but i don’t want people to see it or talk to me about it until it’s #gone. in other news my older sister starts college on monday at the local community college that i will probably go to despite my efforts #so. no anxiety here tonight why in the world would i be terrified about anything right now what are you talking about how could there ever #(/s) #i sincerely hope everyone here is doing okay. i am sorry for kind of venting but i have been holding this stuff in a little bit too long #two people total outside from me and my family know what’s going on and i’m not looking to have any more irls find out #but i am bursting at the seams and a little bit terrified. not to mention the stupid college everything piling up on me right now it’s just #a little bit much. anyway the medical world is ridiculous and stupid and if i have to be on hold with one more surgeons office i will cry #and i’m just kind of here. i’ll put a thing at the top so that nobody has to read this. and trigger warnings and everything #and i really hope everyone is okay i am sorry for being a little too much right now #vent tw #medical tw #ask to tag #anyway i’m going to bed really soon i just. really really needed to yell about how much everything is. even if it’s going to get fixed #me. my post. mine. #delete later

[fingertipsmp3]

My brother really messaged me out of the blue after 3 months of no contact then went offline huh

#did you have to do this on this; the last night of my dog’s life #like i’m not in a good headspace for whatever question this man is going to ask me #he led with ‘how are you’ so obviously i couldn’t say ‘i’m absolutely terrible john. thank you for asking’ #there are a few possibilities here. either he genuinely wants to know what’s going on with me and start a conversation #or possibly he wants to meet for the first time. which. sir… sir we live in the north east and it’s about to be november #i mean i’ll get on a train to [redacted] but please don’t make me wander the streets #OR he wants me to tell our other brother about him which… oh god #listen. i know i have to do it sooner or later. but why’s it gotta fall on ME to message my other brother and be like ‘hey btw i did a dna #test and found this whole ass man. by the way our dad cheated on your mom with a 16 year old girl and fathered a whole extra child #who is 8 months older than you. so. talk amongst yourselves’ like whyyyyyyy #if my dad had lived 16 years longer HE could’ve done all of this but no. instead it’s me; his most useless progeny #y’know what maybe for nanowrimo i’ll write down my family history because it is fucking weird. like you think we’ve scratched the surface #here? not even. gather round and i’ll tell you the tale of whoever the FUCK gave my grandma that sweetheart brooch. and more… #personal

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.

Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.

“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.

Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.

He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.

“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.

“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.

“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”

Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.

“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.

“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.

A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.

“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.

“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”

Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.

“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.

Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.

“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”

Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.

“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.

“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”

(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)

#cod mwii #cod x gn!reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #cod mw2 #cod x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley drabble #simon ghost riley x reader

[omgeto]

☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.

summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.

wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)

cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.

an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls

☆ NANAMI

nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.

but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.

“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.

as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.

"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.

“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.” 

you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day. 

he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass. 

“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.

“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg. 

“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”

suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.

you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”

“really?” you question coyly.

“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”

“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.

“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”

“wha—”

“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”

you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you. 

nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy,  “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.

you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.

“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt.  “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”

“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”

“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”

“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.

“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”

“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”

“wha—”

“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”

“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out

“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.

“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.

“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”

“thanks for the live show.” 

☆ TOJI 

“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.

“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further. 

you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.

“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.

“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”

you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”

“am too,” he mutters like a child.

“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.

“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.

“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”

he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.

his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing  your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you. 

he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy. 

“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.

“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”

“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.

“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”

“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”

“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.

“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.

“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”

“ugh you’re so gross.”

“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.

“if you insist.”

he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”

“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.

☆ GETO

you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching. 

“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it. 

“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”

“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.

“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”

he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?” 

"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."

“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”

“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?” 

he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”

“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.

“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?” 

your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto. 

you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”

“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear. 

he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun —  down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.

his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace. 

geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.

but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.

“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.

“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.

“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”

“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.

“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.

“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.

“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.

“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.

“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.

“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”

“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.

☆ GOJO

“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”

“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”

you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy. 

it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever. 

you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’

“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.

“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”

“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”

“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”

“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.

for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him. 

“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it. 

“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.

“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.

“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.

after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”

“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”

“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”

an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS

#stampedwithanE★ #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader