#I saw this while reading for my world lit class

[vanteguccir]

You Make Loving Fun | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where the sun inside Matt fell in love with the moon inside Y/N; OR, 4 moments between sunshine Matt and grumpy Y/N.

Warning: Mentions of blood and pain.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N has always been known for her serious expression and sarcastic humor. She had a cynical view of the world and seemed to find fault with almost everything around her. On the other hand, Matt was the complete opposite. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, brightening up any room with his contagious positivity. It was as if he was determined to find the good in everything, no matter how dark it was.

The two were in the same class together at Boston high school, part of the same group of friends, which meant they did a lot of group work together, and it was precisely there where their contrasting personalities often collided. Y/N was meticulous and perfectionist in her work, while Matt preferred to approach topics with a more relaxed and laid-back attitude. This often put them at odds, but it also created an interesting dynamic.

One afternoon, during a school work meeting at the triplets' house, Y/N was particularly grumpy. She had faced a series of setbacks in her home and was on the verge of exploding. Matt, as always, tried to cheer her up with his light humor and unwavering optimism.

"You should relax a little." Matt murmured with a smile as his right hand worked quickly with his computer mouse, putting together the perfect slide for the presentation that would take place the next day, using Nick and Alahna's notes and research. "Not everything has to be so serious all the time."

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the edge of Matt's bed, pushing the notebook that rested on her thighs roughly, feeling frustrated with his persistent attempt to lift her spirits. She knew he was just trying to help, but at that moment, all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

However, something inside her changed when she lifted her gaze to Matt's smiling face, who was still holding the mouse as he watched her from the corner of his eye. In that moment, the girl saw beyond the surface, beyond the facade of constant happiness. She saw the genuine kindness in his eyes, the compassion in his smile. And for the first time, something inside her crumbled, breaking the wall that had held firm for so many years.

A small smile began to form on Y/N's lips, almost imperceptible, but still present. It was a smile that lit up her entire face in a way never seen before and made her eyes shine with an inner light that had long been dormant.

Matt was surprised to see Y/N smiling, abandoning his task instantly and turning his face completely towards her, trying to make sure he was actually seeing that. It was as if he had witnessed something sacred, something few were lucky enough to see - maybe only him. The brunette was speechless, simply admiring the sight before him.

"What?" Y/N asked, noticing the look of shock on Matt's face, her smile fading almost automatically, giving way to her usual frown.

"It's just…" Matt began, struggling to find the right words. "It's the first time I've seen you actually smiling. And it's so pretty."

Y/N felt shy by the compliment but also inexplicably happy. She had never realized how her smile could affect someone so deeply, especially someone like Matt, who radiated joy wherever he went.

"You should smile more-"

"Shut up."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The night was calm when Matt returned from his hockey practice, but the mood inside the triplets' house was far from peaceful. He walked through his bedroom door with his shoulders hunched and his face pale, showing the anguish that consumed him inside and out.

Y/N, who was sitting on his bed reading a book while she waited for him - a habit created between them, and which his parents and brothers adored - looked up when hearing the door open. Upon seeing Matt, she immediately noticed something was wrong. Her heart sank while witnessing the boy's low stance.

"Matt? Hey, what happened?" She asked, setting the book aside and quickly standing up from her previous seat, walking towards him with a frown decorating her face.

Matt didn't respond right away. Instead, he broke down when his ears finally heard the voice he had waited for so many hours, tears flowing freely down his face. He was shaking, struggling to control his emotions as the weight of his feelings enveloped him like a dense fog.

"Hey pretty boy, breathe." Y/N ordered, pulling him into an awkward but loving hug. "It's okay. Just breathe."

Matt sniffed, trying to regain control of himself. He took a few deep breaths, following her instructions, before finally finding the voice to speak.

"It was at hockey practice." The brunette began, his voice wavering with crying and raw emotions. "One of the guys on the team... he said some horrible things to me about my performance, and I-" A sob interrupted his speech, his blue eyes closing tightly in an attempt to hold in the ugly sounds.

Y/N slowly pulled away, snaking her right hand from his bicep to his head, cupping his cheek gently, looking at his face for the first time that afternoon, her movements stopping suddenly.

The girl felt a wave of anger bubbling up inside her as she saw her boyfriend's face swollen and stained with blood in strategic spots, clearly having been punched by someone else. She clenched her left fist tightly, causing her fingers to take in a pale hue, her eyes flashing with contained fury as her chest tightened with the anguish she felt emanating from Matt's body.

"Who was it?" Y/N's firm and determined voice echoed through the room like thunder as her right hand gently turned his face from side to side, her hard eyes running over his injured skin. "Who said those things to you? No, even better. Who did this to you? I'll finish him off, I swear."

Matt's eyes widened instantly, surprised by her reaction. He knew Y/N could be tough when needed - all the time - but seeing her so determined to protect him left him speechless.

His cheeks took on a reddish hue, disguised by the blood and redness caused by crying, his lips pressed together in an attempt to contain a smile while his heart accelerated involuntarily, a small wince escaping his throat with the movement of his mouth.

"I'm fine, baby-"

"You're not, and after I'm done with whoever did this to you, he won't be fine either." Y/N interrupted him rudely, raising her eyebrows in an act of confrontation, as if she was confronting him to continue the lie.

"It's okay, sunshine. Just let it go. Please?" Matt's warm tongue escaped his lips, wetting them, while his blue eyes seemed to beg her to forget about the guy and focus on himself.

"Alright." The girl let out a loud, angry sigh, rolling her eyes as she stroked his blood-stained cheek gently. "Come on, let's take care of this."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was busy that night, with lively conversation and laughter echoing off the walls. Y/N was sitting at a table next to Matt and his brothers, trying to enjoy the meal despite the crowd around them. However, her already dark mood was about to deepen even further.

As Y/N cut into her steak with an air of concentration, she noticed a man at the next table out of the corner of her eyes. He looked arrogant, a smug smile playing on his lips as he said horrible things about a girl to his table-mates. But it was when he looked in Y/N's direction that she felt a chill run down her spine.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Y/N felt a wave of discomfort spread through her. She couldn't explain why, but something about that guy made her nervous, his arrogant and sexist comments causing her body to scream, almost begging for her to do something.

Matt noticed the subtle change in Y/N's expression and followed her gaze to the next table, running his blue eyes over the unknown man's figure. He frowned, confused by the sudden intensity of Y/N's gaze, practically feeling her fury emanating from her body.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Matt asked in an almost imperceptible whisper, leaning towards her and bringing his mouth closer to her ear, keeping his eyes on the table next to them. "Why don't we like him?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by Matt's direct question. She turned her head towards him slowly, frowning and running her eyes over his curious and playful expression, their noses almost touching with their proximity.

"You're so annoying, do you know that?" The girl asked in a cynical tone, raising her right eyebrow as she assessed him with her eyes.

"But you still love me." Matt replied quickly, as if he already had the answer on the tip of his tongue. A smirk grew on his lips as he draped his right arm over the back of the wooden chair his girlfriend sat on, caressing the skin of her exposed shoulder with his fingertips gently.

"Doesn't make you less annoying."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was busy in the kitchen of the large room in her house that she shared with the triplets, preparing a special meal to welcome the boys' parents, Jimmy and Mary Lou, who were about to arrive for a visit in Los Angeles. She was determined to impress them with her cooking skills and make the couple's first day in the bustling city worth it.

While stirring a pan of sauce, Y/N heard footsteps approaching and soon Matt's figure left the small hall that led to their room and entered the kitchen with a beaming smile on his face, his feet taking him closer to his girl almost automatically.

"Hi sunshine, need help?" He asked, stepping forward to grab an apron and approach the stove, his blue eyes darting over all the ingredients laid out as his brain tried to process what she was making.

Y/N looked up at him, her face hardened with concentration as her right hand never stopped moving the spoon.

"No, thank you." The girl responded quickly, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the sauce below her. "I can do this on my own."

Matt frowned, ignoring her answer and rescuing a steak knife from the cutlery drawer, extending his free hand towards the still raw meat, ready to cut it into ideal sizes.

"Matt, I said I can do it myself." Y/N repeated slowly, as if she were speaking to a child, casting a furtive glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"I know you can, petal." The boy murmured softly, putting down the knife and raising his now free hand towards his girl, lightly pressing his warm palm against her still arm, caressing her skin. "But I want to be here with you to help in some way. It doesn't have to be everything or nothing."

Y/N sighed, feeling a little guilty about her own reaction. She didn't want to push Matt away, especially when he was just trying to be caring and helpful.

"Okay... I'm sorry." Her apology escaped in a barely there whisper, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a firm grip.

"What are we having for dinner today?" Chris's loud and excited voice echoed through the living room and kitchen as the boy climbed the stairs that led him from his room, interrupting the moment between the couple, eliciting a laugh from Matt and an eye roll from Y/N.

"None of your business."

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My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

(if you asked to be on the taglist but isn't tagged above, it's because you have set up your account to not be tagged by accounts that don't follow you back/you don't follow)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #x reader #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader fluff #matt sturniolo x yn #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt au #matt fanfic #matt #grumpy x sunshine #grumpy!reader #sunshine!matt

[elliebearart]

"Oh, mighty Love, thine arrows are made of flowers. How can they be so sharp?" -- Kalidasa, Shakuntala

#I saw this while reading for my world lit class #and I was like ah the hopeless romantics are really gonna love this one #literature #shakuntala #eastern literature #sanskrit #bookblr #dark academica #light academia #academia aesthetic #words #text post #dark academia aesthetic #light academia aesthetic #classic academia

[tojifile]

Kibutsuji Muzan: Reincarnation

You're back..

Genre: Romance // Muzan x oiran!reader

⚠️: prostitute!reader, suggestive, kidnapping, not fully consensual

A/N: My first non-bsd fanfic !! I'm super happy about it, I read about an oiran and the differences in social classes at 12AM, it was like reviewing for my history class again. It was a lot of late-night reading so if there's misinformation please inform me immediately !!

INSPO: pinejayy

It was a well-lit and busy night, as it always was in the entertainment district. Little did everybody know the demon king—Kibutsuji Muzan was in their midst, walking along the streets, blending in with the loud crowd.

An procession was about to start, all eyes would be on the oiran—dragging her geta on the ground as she walked. The oiran on this particular night was none other than, you. Your scent was immediately picked up by Muzan. It was the same scent he had grown to love, from the person he had lost to time.

His interest was piqued the moment he picked up your scent. His gaze traveled far, trying to find the source of the scent. His gaze then landed on you, he watched you as you walked with such grace, you were as beautiful as the day he lost you.

Muzan lost you through the inevitable disease called time. You weren't willing to become a demon—instead, you promised him that you would find eachother in each lifetime and it will all end the same, with you in his arms.

You were given the name 'Minori' by the oiran who took you in as a child, starving in the unforgiving world of class and power. As an oiran you were known to be quite finicky. Although an oiran did have the right to choose who they would lay with, you were known for having not slept with anyone ever since you rose to your rank. Many men tried wooing you with their "looks" and "charm" but in the end you deem none of the worthy.

You were intelligent, beautiful, and skilled in various languages and arts. You were also a dear friend of Koinatsu, one of the most revered oiran in the Yoshiwara District. Muzan had heard about Minori before, from mundane gossip to papers of advertisement. He just didn't expect it to actually be you.

After seeing you walk, he spoke to Daki. He had released an order to his demons that you weren't allowed to be killed—instead, you had to be protected. Anyone who had protested against Muzan's order was immediately killed, without another word from their lifeless lips.

You had just gone back from the procession, you were quietly fixing up in your room, filling it with your presence. It was neither sweet nor destructive, it was just you. You were sitting in front of the mirror, fixing your hair until you saw a man appear behind you—you immediately stood up and looked back in fear.

Suddenly the room went dark, you couldn't see a thing. You then felt an eerie presence behind you—it was Muzan. He gently grabbed you from behind, by the waist and pulled you closer to him. "You're back.." he whispered in your ear.

It was strange, the man's touch was cold and his breath wasn't even slightly warm. Your body tensed up, "b- back..?." you nervously asked "Y/N.. I thought I'd never see you again.." he mumbled softly while one hand was secured on your waist, preventing further problems and the other hand lifting your chin to one side, granting him access to your neck.

'Y/N? Who was he talking about? I don't even know anyone named Y/N, maybe this was a new thing with men, maybe roleplay is quite popular nowadays, is this just a drunkard that wandered in my room?!' were the thoughts that ran into your head. You were too afraid to move, you didn't know what wrath would be brought down on you if you disobey.

Chomp he bit your neck, his fangs sunk into your neck, blood trickled down your skin, staining your carefully crafted kimono. You felt a sharp pain in your neck, you felt the blood trickling down your skin as well. He removed his teeth from your skin, letting the blood flow down.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he stopped biting you, he turned you to him and wiped your tears away with his thumbs, a soft smile could be seen on his face. "Oh Y/N.. you used to love my bites.." he spoke with a sweet tone. You reached up for his hands "Who are you.. please stop.." You muttered, your fear was clear, you were trembling slightly as you held the back of his hands tightly. This made him angry, his grasp on you tightened and the soft smile on his face was replaced by an angry scowl.

He wasn't letting you go this time. You were going to live with him forever, he couldn't abide by your wishes. He needed you by his side, he wasn't going to play by the rules set by time and destiny.

You whimpered softly as he tightened his grip. His hands travelled back to your waist, pulling you in. You haven't fully grasped the events of the night. It was all too much.. how could he bite you like that? Who was Y/N? You looked at him through your tear-filled eyes and held onto his chest. "P- please.." you mumbled.

Muzan wasn't going to listen to reason, he let you have some of his blood to ensure that you'd stay with him forever. You were now a demon at his mercy. Although you didn't suffer the same curse the other demons did. Muzan wanted to hear you say his name, after not hearing it for centuries, he needed to hear it now.

You grasped his arms tightly as you felt yourself transform from a human to a demon. You felt your fangs and your desire for blood growing. You were still clearly competent but your body grew weaker due to the high concentration of his blood. Muzan picked you up, making sure you wouldn't be able to escape. "It doesn't matter if you don't remember me, in time you'll learn to love me again." He spoke with a cold tone. He then disappeared into the night sky with you in his arms.

Spontaneous post: 07/03/23 02:25AM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

#kny #kimetsu muzan #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan x you #muzan kibutsuji x you #kibutsuji kny #kibtsuji muzan #muzan #kibutsuji #kny reader insert #kny muzan #kny x y/n #muzan x y/n

[koolades-world]

Hellooo

I really need a fic abt dis rn, my brain is just so 🫨

So, if it's fine, could u do something abt the brothers with an mc who base their worthiness on scores and grades? Like, if mc gets a bad score and grades, they'd constantly feel Worthless and would isolate themselves from everyone. They'd also skip meals and oversleep, feeling like everyone's disappointed at them.

Thank youu!-

hi! yes, of course!

writing this while wearing fake nails that'll hopefully pop off soon haha so if there's spelling mistakes where only one letter missing, that's because i didn't hit the key hard enough with my nail lol

enjoy :)

Mc who bases their worthiness on grades

Lucifer

while he doesn’t pick up immediately, he noticed after you got a bad test score, you’d not be around as much, like meal times

he puts two and two together, and gently confronts you

he offers you help with your work and studying, if that’s what you want, or just his support

either way, you’ve secured exclusive access to his room for peace, quiet, and his encouragement

Mammon

since he spends so much time around you, he catches on quickly

while his bad grades bounce off him, he can see how hard you take it when he tries to joke with you about it to make you feel better

while it’s hard for him to be real with you, he lets you know you’ll forever be the hardest working person he’ll ever know

you’re so resilient and for someone who’s been thrown into a strange world, you’re doing amazing. his late night snack runs always have your favorite in it now

Levi

while you never directly told him, he kind of saw his own self destructive habits in you

at first he’s not sure what to do

does he mention it outright? eventually he got so upset seeing you like that, he blurted it all out

in this, he tells you just how much he cares about you and now he’s a flustered mess

Satan

despite how well he does, he always feels like he's living in the shadow of lucifer and how smart he is. it's part of the reason he picked up reading: to learn and differentiate himself from lucifer

belphie can put him to shame when he just tries and he hates that

he really understands how you feel and is quick to tell you while it’s not abnormal to feel, he understands you

he knows it’s not a healthy habit and he wants to work through it together with you

Asmo

he knows despite outer appearances, not everything can be as it seems

he notices your self care seems to wane around the times you do poorly in class

when this happens, he marches down to your room with a self are lit in hands and demands you relax because he knows you’re so much more than a grade

he just wants you to know to and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you see you how he sees you

Beel

the first time he sees you haven’t eaten in at least a day, he’s quick to offer you something to eat

he’s not sure why you seem to be trying to avoid the question or say no politely

eventually, once he learns, he sweeps you into a giant hug and he lets you know you’re more than just the letter or number attached to your work

he knows you try so hard, and as long as you don’t give up, you’re going to be alright. everyone has their off days and he’s going to do his best to make those days better for you

Belphie

when you begin to join him in progressively getting up later and later in the morning, he knows something is wrong

one morning, after everyone has left, he’ll hop in bed with you and gently talk to you about what’s been going on while hugging you

he offers you help with your work and tells you a grade doesn’t define you in relation to how other see you, especially him

he’s in no place to judge and he knows sometimes all people need is a helping hand from a loved one

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

[bboricha]

eyes up here, darling!

➳ wc: ~600 ➳ pairings: pervert singer friend!venti x afab!reader ➳ cw: spanking, possessive!venti, there's actually no mention of venti being a singer lol, mention of onlyfans, heizou is mentioned briefly, degradation, dacryphylia if u squint, fingering, light bondage (with a belt), pet name (darling), not proofread ➳ kabukicho bad trip: 5wirl edition masterlist

synopsis: you're eating lunch with venti as he talks your ear off about some survival show. he usually wears sunglasses, but on the rare occasion of when he takes them off, you get to see what's really going on in his mind...

you’re eating in the dining hall, zoning out to your friend venti babbling on about some show– guy… planet? boy… world? something about idols and you can’t bring yourself to listen to anymore about him gushing over who gets center uncaffeinated. you’re thinking back to your lit class and kazuha, confused by the whole situation. you’ve seen a lot of things when you read people’s minds, you thought you’ve seen it all! but never in your life did you expect to see someone thinking about railing you while your grandpa of a professor drones on about literature! suddenly, venti gets in your face, the braids of his hair swaying as your thoughts come to a stop.

“hey, are you even listening?” he asks, waving a hand in your face. “mmhm,” you say blankly, clearly not. “ok, then what did I just say about my onlyfans?” “wait—what?” you blink at him, staring at your own reflection on his sunglasses. he catches you off guard and grins mischievously, lowering his sunglasses to look straight at you in the eyes. the thing about venti is that he has a habit of wearing sunglasses, something about how he wants to protect his eyes and what not. so you usually don’t see him without them, and when you do, he happens to be thinking nothing (honestly, you never really thought of him as anything aside from a thoughtless idiot so you were never surprised by this). but right now? you get sent straight into the depths of his mind.

you see yourself bent over on a bed, ass up face down. venti runs a finger up and down your dripping slit, playing with it, teasing you gently just to watch you squirm.

“ven…ti…” you whine needily, swaying your bare ass as he grins, the corners of his mouth lifting up sadistically.

“you’re so,” his hand comes down hard on the left side of your butt, “fucking,” he hits the right side this time, “desperate,” he smacks right in the middle, his finger a breadth away from slapping your pussy, “it’s a bit pathethic, darling…” he finishes, shoving two fingers inside of you without warning as you cry out, moaning loudly. he drinks up all the sounds you make, thrusting his fingers in and out as he marvels the way your ass is changing colors.

“beautiful… i don’t hate it, you know. seeing you out of control like this…” he whispers, pulling out his fingers to gently caress one of your cheeks before landing another slap on it as you let out a whimper. “so pretty…”

he leans down, turning you around so that you’re on your back as he kisses away your sweet, sweet tears. he swipes away what he couldn’t kiss and runs a thumb over your lip. you take it into your mouth and suck on it obediently, making him throb against the confines of his pants.

“you’re so fucking perfect… I almost want to lock you up… for myself…” he says, now hovering over you as he takes off his belt. he gently grabs your wrists, wrapping the leather around him as he secures a knot, pinning your hands above your head. “we’re going to have so much fun…”

“haha! i’m just kidding,” he cackles, bringing you back to reality, “i don’t have an onlyfans, that’s heizou’s thing, not mine.” he’s wiping a tear away from laughing as you stare at him confused. a blush spreads on your face when you process what you just saw, averting your gaze away from him. venti watches your expression change and he thinks you’re blushing at the onlyfans comment. he grins and reaches a hand out to your face, tracing a thumb over your cheek.

“eyes up here, darling. i’d prefer it if you keep your focus on me.”

➳ an: he said it!!! he said the thing!!!!!!

#bboricha*:･ﾟ✧ #bori writes*:･ﾟ✧ #bori genshin*:･ﾟ✧ #bori nsfw*:･ﾟ✧ #kabukicho 5wirl *:･ﾟ✧ #venti x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #venti smut #venti x you #venti x y/n #genshin impact venti #genshin venti

[thewulf]

Echoes of the Past || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Sooo, i have such a 😩😩 Hotch x reader idea. What if they have been to school togheter (you can decide whatever age and school they were in) and they were madly in love with each other perhaps they were even dating!!... Read Rest Here

A/N: Okay, wrote this one a lil different. Let me know if you guys like it or not. Trying to mature/up my writing style! And thank you for the request!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

He was your first and truest love. It was the way his smile lit up the classroom of your first law school class at George Washington University that made you do a double take. The first words he mumbled to you all those years ago are etched into your memory. His eyes held yours for every single second of that very first conversation, making you realize that he was a very special person.

On your very first date with Aaron, you knew you would love him for a very, very long time. When he took your face in his hands and peppered kisses all over your blushing cheeks, it dawned on you that you did indeed love him. You fell for him hard and fast. He was the first man who made you realize that another human could possibly feel the same way you did about him. He was a marvel. An enigma. Aaron Hotchner stole your heart and never gave it back.

With him, it was the first time you could truly let your guard down. You could just be yourself unashamedly. He was the first man who truly saw you in your rawest form. It was the first time you felt loved. So loved, without a second trace of doubt. He loved you, and you loved him for four beautiful years.

But as they say, all beautiful things must come to an end, for isn’t that what makes them truly beautiful? Your last kiss with him was the first time you kissed someone while crying harder than you ever could have imagined. It was the first time you realized the tears would never cease to fall.

It was the first time that you understood that the man who made you the happiest in this world was also the man who brought you the most anguish.

He was your first love. The first time you held the metaphorical bow and let him pull back the arrow aimed square at your chest. Your first love was trusting him not to let go, trusting him to protect your heart.

Your first love was never thinking, nor expecting, him to let it go. But he did.

The loss of your first love was like watching the sunrise fade into the twilight, a gradual dimming of the light that once illuminated your world. It starts with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, a gnawing ache that refuses to be ignored.

At first, it was a distant whisper, a subtle shift in the air that hinted at the impending storm. You felt it in the way his laughter no longer reached your ears with the same warmth, in the way his touch left a hollow echo in your soul.

As the days passed, the void he left behind grew larger, swallowing you whole in its depths. It was a constant battle between holding on and letting go, between clinging to the memories like a lifeline and accepting the harsh reality of their absence.

Everywhere you turned, reminders of him lurked in the shadows, haunting your every thought and action. The places you once frequented together became battlegrounds of nostalgia, each familiar sight a painful reminder of what once was.

And then came the moment of reckoning, the realization that he was truly gone, never to return. It hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you gasping for breath. The tears came freely then, a torrential downpour that washed away the remnants of your shattered heart.

In the aftermath of first love's loss, there was a profound sense of emptiness that permeated every corner of your being. It was as if a part of you had been ripped away, leaving behind a gaping wound that refused to heal.

But amidst the pain and sorrow, there was also a glimmer of hope, a faint whisper of resilience that echoed in the depths of your soul. For in the darkness of loss, there lay the opportunity for growth, for transformation, for the rebirth of a heart that had been broken but not defeated.

And so, you picked up the pieces of your shattered dreams, one by one, and slowly but surely, you began to rebuild. For though first love may be lost, its memory lingered like a bittersweet melody, a testament to the beauty and the pain of loving with all your heart.

The bustling streets of Washington D.C. hummed with the energy of a city in perpetual motion, a constant ebb and flow of life. Amidst the throngs of pedestrians, Aaron Hotchner navigated his way through the crowd, his mind heavy with the weight of his profession. As a seasoned agent with the BAU, his days were filled with the relentless pursuit of justice, often leading him far from the familiar streets of D.C.

It was amidst one such case, miles away from home, that the memories of you began to surface. You had been college sweethearts, your love a beacon of light in a world tinged with uncertainty. But as your careers diverged, your relationship faltered under the strain of distance and time.

The decision to part ways had been a painful one, a choice dictated by circumstance rather than desire. Aaron's commitment to his work with the BAU demanded his presence elsewhere, while you were on the brink of embarking on your career as a lawyer. It was a choice neither of you wanted to make, but one that fate had thrust upon you nonetheless.

And so, you said your goodbyes, your hearts heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfinished dreams. It was a wound that had never truly healed, a scar that lingered as a constant reminder of what could have been.

As Aaron returned to D.C., the memories of your shared past haunted him like ghosts from another lifetime. And then, amidst the chaos of a particularly grueling case, fate intervened, bringing him face to face with you once more.

You stand before him, a vision of grace and beauty amidst the chaos of your surroundings. Your eyes meet on the busy streets of D.C., and for a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still as you take in each other's presence.

"Y/N," Aaron breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, a bittersweet curve of your lips that speaks volumes of the years you have spent apart. "Aaron," you say softly, your voice laced with a mixture of emotions.

The air crackles with tension as you exchange hesitant glances, the weight of your shared history hanging heavy in the air.

"It's been too long," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron nods, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggles to find the right words to say. "I never stopped thinking about you," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion.

And just like that, the floodgates open, words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up emotions and buried truths. You speak of the whispers of your long lost love, of the secrets that tore the two of you apart, of the regrets that haunted your dreams.

Over coffee, you expose your much more complex souls to each other, laying bare the scars of your past in hopes of finding solace in each other's arms once more. You reminisce about your college days, the late-night study sessions and impromptu road trips that had defined your relationship.

But amidst the laughter and shared memories, there is a lingering sadness, a sense of loss that hangs heavy in the air. For you both know that the reunion is bittersweet, a reminder of the years you have spent apart, the moments you can never reclaim. As the conversation progresses, you both find yourselves drawn deeper into the past, unraveling the tangled threads of your shared history.

"I still remember the first time we met," you say, your voice soft with nostalgia. "You walked into that classroom, and I couldn't take my eyes off you."

Aaron's gaze softens, memories flickering behind his eyes. "I was so nervous," he admits with a chuckle. "But the moment I saw you, everything just...clicked."

You share a smile, the weight of years melting away in the warmth of your reminiscence. It's as though time has folded in on itself, bringing you back to that moment when the world was full of endless possibilities.

"Do you ever wonder what might have been?" you ask, the question hanging between you like a fragile thread.

Aaron's expression grows somber, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Every day," he confesses, his voice barely a whisper. "I never stopped thinking about you, wondering if I made the right choice."

You reach across the table, your fingers brushing against his in a silent gesture of understanding. "We were young," you say softly. "We had our whole lives ahead of us, and we made the best choices we could at the time."

There's a heaviness in your words, a weight of regret and longing that threatens to pull you under. But beneath it all, there's also a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that refuses to be extinguished.

"We can't change the past," Aaron murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "But maybe...maybe we can learn from it."

The words hang in the air, pregnant with meaning. It's a fragile hope, born from the ashes of broken dreams and shattered promises. But it's also the only thing you have left to hold onto, the last vestige of a love that refuses to die.

And so, you lean into each other, seeking solace in the warmth of your shared embrace. In that moment, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city, you find a measure of peace, a fleeting glimpse of the happiness that once was and could be again.

The days that follow are a blur of stolen moments and whispered confessions. You walk hand in hand through the familiar streets of D.C., lost in your own little world of memories and dreams.

But among the joy of your reunion, there's also a sense of trepidation, a fear that history will repeat itself, tearing you apart once more. It's a shadow that lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a reminder of the fragility of your newfound happiness.

"I don't know if I can do this again, Aaron," you confess one evening, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

Aaron's gaze softens, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulls you close. "We'll take it one step at a time," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the ache in your heart. "Together."

And in that moment, as you stand together beneath the star-studded sky, you know that you are embarking on a journey far greater than anything you could have imagined. It's a journey filled with twists and turns, highs and lows, but above all, it's a journey you will navigate together, hand in hand, hearts entwined.

For who said first loves can't also turn out to be your forever love? You are determined to prove them wrong, to rewrite the story of your love in a way that defies all expectations. And together, hand in hand, hearts entwined, you know that anything is possible.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y @kreepja

#aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotcher #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner au #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds aaron hotch #criminal minds fic

[always-andromeda]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Professor!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 3268

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + dark academia + “I can see how badly you want this, so I'm going to make sure you get it.”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ I’ve loved this man literally since I was thirteen…so it’s inevitable that I’d be writing something absolutely fucking filthy for him in my twenties…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), gaps in age and power, mutual masturbation, little bit of panty sniffing, a singular use of Y/N (I'm sorry, I hate it too but it was necessary), usage of pet names (sweetheart), general manipulation, slight praise kink, obvious disclaimer: the dynamic in this fic is just that, fictional, and should not be practiced in real life!! let me know if any other warnings are needed!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

You’d rarely had luck receiving any sort of grace from your professors. Sure, there were a select few that only wanted to see you succeed. However, more often than not you seemed to encounter sadists who decided to take their kinks out on exhausted college students. But you were convinced that Professor Winchester wouldn’t be like that.

For starters, he’d always been challenging but never malicious. Despite the fact that you’d registered for his Norse Mythology course with the assumption that it would be easy college credits, you quickly learned that his assignments were difficult. Every week there seemed to be about a hundred pages worth of reading, frequent essays, and an emphasis on class discussion.

Oh, did he love those class discussions. While most were less than enthusiastic to contribute to lengthy examinations of Eddic poetry at eight in the morning, Professor Winchester seemed to be none the wiser of this.

He was always squinting over his thin wire framed glasses, surveying the class. He’d stand at his desk, brushing his long hair behind his ear while looking over papers. When he’d listen he’d purse his lips and tilt his head, expression rife with genuine interest. In all of these moments, he was the most gorgeous. But more than that, you were fascinated with his mind.

Professor Winchester knew this material like the back of his hand; was able to pull references and quotes from various pieces of literature at the drop of a hat. He was the only professor who could ever give notes that were actually helpful on essays and he’d always been generous with handing out extra credit assignments. Which is what you aimed to obtain on this visit to his office.

You looked through the glass of his office door and saw him inside, working diligently at a dark oak wood desk. Taking a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and entered.

The hinges squeezed but Winchester seemed so fixated on whatever was before him that he only raised a finger, indicating for you to wait. So you did. Awkwardly. You rocked slightly on your heels, your stomach starting to twist in time with the movement. God, he looked like a dream lit by the stained glass banker's lamp as he graded papers.

In another world you could see him coming home from a long day, his body warm behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Smelling like black coffee and pencil shavings, you'd adoringly close your eyes, taking in his scent and ask him how his day went. He'd hum in contentment when resting his chin on your head; you're his rock, his soulmate, the reason he stays sane despite dealing with probably hundreds of students and the frustrating dance of academic bureaucracy. 

It's a fantasy that broke the second Winchester glanced up and said with a hint of surprise, "Miss L/N! Come in, have a seat," he nodded towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

Relieved that he can pick you out among the sea of students from his classroom, you move forward until you reach the chair. You set your bag down on the floor and settle into the worn leather of the seat as Winchester eyes you expectantly.

"What can I do for you this afternoon?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Actually, I was hoping that you could help me out with something."

"Oh, what might that be?" he furrowed his brow.

"Um..." you started. "I'm sure you noticed that I didn't do too hot on the last exam."

"Ah, I did," he said simply.

"You did?"

"Yeah, I was surprised, actually." Winchester opened up one of his desk drawers and sorted through some files before pulling out a packet you recognized as the exam you'd taken the week before. "You seem so engaged in class discussion and you've been doing well on everything else. This...this felt rushed. What happened?"

The soft expression of concern on his face only increased your shame. In all honesty, you'd wasted half the exam time away staring at him. He'd worn a red sweater over a cream colored button up that day. Then he'd rolled up the sleeves before handing out the exam papers. It felt stupid to admit that you'd been distracted by his goddamn forearms.

But you had been. You couldn't resist watching him as he'd circled the room, keeping an eye out for cheating. With his arms folded behind his back, you got the best look at the back of him. His long legs clad in khaki. Strong, tanned forearms corded with prominent veins. Shoulder blades pushed back confidently as he walked. Everything about his solid stature had your mind far, far away.

You'd been good at making sure your daydreams wouldn't get the better of you. But this time, before you knew it, Winchester was glancing down at his watch and announcing that you had fifteen minutes left for exam time. You had no choice but to rush through the rest of it, writing down answers that hardly even made sense just to fill in blanks.

Now those answers laid before you, condemning you to a low D– that dragged down your entire grade.

"I honestly couldn't tell you, Professor. I thought I studied enough but I guess not."

Though you'd attempted to laugh off his concern, Winchester obviously wasn't budging. "But these are rookie mistakes. Number fifteen for example. Where do the gods live?"

"Easy. Asgard."

"Right, but here you marked down the answer for Valhalla," he slid the paper around so you could look at the question.

Sure enough, there it was, your frantic pencil marks filling in the bubble for the incorrect answer. Damn.

"And that's just on the multiple choice questions," Winchester continued, flipping through the pages. "You barely followed any of the directions for the long answer questions. Your response to the short essay portion was a paragraph too short. And it was too unfocused."

Unfocused is right, Professor Winchester.

"I hate to say it...but I was a little disappointed."

The sting of tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. So you cleared your throat and blinked them back quickly. Voice trembling, you answered quickly, "I'm sorry, Professor. I wasn't on my game and I thought I'd pay you a visit so I could plead my case. I'm willing to do any kind of extra credit assignment. I don't care how much work it is. I'll do anything to fix my grade because I really want to do well in your class and–"

Winchester raised a hand, urging you to stop. Then he spoke, "Listen, I can see how badly you want this. So I'm going to make sure you get it. Just...let me think."

With that, Winchester rose from his seat and began to gather the papers that littered the surface of his desk. He stacked them neatly before opening a different drawer and laying them inside. After he closed the drawer, he made his way around the desk. You tried not to look at him as he made his way around the room, especially not when you felt his hand brush against the back of your chair. But you couldn't not notice when he drew the shade on his door's window and closed the blinds to his window, leaving the room dim save for the yellow light of his desk lamp.

Once he'd made his round, he returned to his chair and rolled back, leaving a massive gap between himself and the edge of his desk.

Then he did something else you didn't expect.

He patted the wood and said, "Come. Sit on my desk. Let me look at you."

You almost wavered on the direction when he cleared his throat expectantly. That brought you to your feet and compelled you to settle waveringly before him.

With his lips in a tight line, Winchester studied you. He tilted his head every few seconds, letting his eye flicker from your uncertain expression to your body. You sat up a little straighter in an attempt to satisfy his observation of you.

You weren't quite sure what he was doing, but it made you nervous; made you vulnerable in a way you weren't used to.

"I may have one extra credit opportunity that I can offer. Special. Just for you."

"Yeah? What do you want me to do?"

"Well, you can start by spreading your legs."

Your eyes went wide. "Professor Winchester, you're not–"

He cut you off quickly, "First, after office hours, you may call me Sam. Second, I'm not going to touch you. I'm simply asking you to give me a– a presentation," he decided.

"What kind of presentation?" you asked.

Your feigned innocence made the man chuckle softly. "The kind of presentation I'm sure you give in your dormitory bedroom every night."

There wasn't an ounce of jesting on his face, but still you played dumb. "I have no idea what you're referring to, Sam." His name felt foreign yet familiar on your tongue. Probably because you'd whispered it many times before in the exact scenario he'd described.

"I'd hoped you'd tell me the truth about why you were so distracted during your exam. But since you haven't been forthcoming, I guess I have to spell it out for you, haven't I?"

You swallowed hard and blinked nervously.

"You thought I wouldn't notice, did you?" he chuckles again. "It's hard not to notice when one of your students, especially one so beautiful, is practically drooling all over their table."

The scraps of flattery were evidently working on you as Sam smiled when you fiddled with your fingers in your lap as your skin got all warm and tingly. So he kept going.

"Besides, you're too intelligent to do this terribly on something you should've aced. Maybe you wanted to fail it. You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to waste your time, I was just–"

"You weren't wasting my time. Wasting your time is continuing this pointless back and forth when you could instead be proving yourself."

"Proving myself?"

"Yes. Spread those legs...and earn your grade," he ordered.

Breathing in and out slowly, you did what you were asked. The knots in your stomach told you this was wrong. But the smile of approval that slowly grew on Sam's lips said that this was exactly what you both needed. 

You'd never been more embarrassed to be wearing a skirt. One the fabric pooled around your hips, it only framed the damp patch on your underwear. Perhaps part of you had wanted something like this to happen. Because your pussy was already pulsing after simply being observed behind the cotton curtain that soaked up her anticipation.

"Very good," Sam breathed out.

"What do I do now?" you asked.

"Just...play with her. Show me what you like to do to make her happy."

You nodded, then pursed your lips as you thought. If you were going to present to him...you might as well go all out. So you shifted each of your thighs around, pulling down your underwear until your bare ass was planted on the desk and the garment was caught on one of your ankles. You lifted your left and held it out gently, the panty hanging in the air a little below Sam's face.

"Take them," you said. "Visual aid."

He smirked lazily at the offering before pulling them over your shoe, being careful not to actually touch you. Sam balled them up before bringing them to his nose and slowly breathing in the scent. You could tell he enjoyed it thoroughly as he let out a deep sigh from within his chest.

"With how wet these are...it's good to know you were prepared even for a surprise presentation. I knew there was a reason you're my favorite."

His words went straight to your cunt as a few drops of slick leaked from your hole and landed on the dark wood beneath you.

"Go on," Sam urged, gaze flickering to the drops of you on his desk. "She's waiting. And so am I."

You began to treat yourself with the same level of care as you did when you were alone. One of your hands reached up your shirt and you cupped one of your tits. You kneaded the flesh for a few seconds before focusing on the nipple, pinching it until it pebbled and poked through your shirt. The action made your breathing turn ragged. 

You finally let your other hand travel south, bringing warmth to the soft skin of your thighs. Wanting better access to yourself, you pulled your leg up, resting a foot on the desk itself. Then you reclined back and let your fingers roam where they wanted.

Using two fingers, you spread your outer lips, only exposing yourself to Sam’s scrutiny even further. The cool air hitting your most vulnerable part, you shivered as goosebumps erupted across your skin. You looked up at him, gauging his approval of your performance.

“You’re doing so well already, keep going,” he encouraged, hardly concealing the arousal that clung thickly to his tone.

You took the praise with pride. It emboldened you enough to slip your two fingers between your folds to gather up some of the slick. You couldn’t help but feel mortified as you involuntarily gasped when your digits brushed slightly against your clit.

Sam let a quick puff of air out his nose. “Sensitive?”

“Mhmmm,” you whined.

“Bet you can’t even touch that pretty clit directly without crying, huh?”

You nodded.

“Then be gentle. I want you to last for me.”

You took that to mean that he didn’t want you touching yourself there yet. So instead you switched to focusing on your entrance. It wasn’t often that you went straight for penetration. Rarely did it bring the kind of relief you craved.

But you had the feeling that Sam would want to see it; to see your fingers filling yourself up and stretching you out.

With your fingers practically pruning already, you pushed one in ever so slowly. It took a second to adjust to the slight pressure, but still you began to carefully pump. The slick squelch only intensified when you slipped another one in and sped up your movements.

Though the pressure increased and built up tension in your belly, you could already tell it wasn’t going to go anywhere. You bucked your hips pathetically against your own hand, trying to get deep enough to hit your g-spot. But no matter how far you tried to probe, it was useless. Your fingers simply weren’t long enough.

Your eyes went wind, catching sight of something that most likely could reach that spot inside you. While you’d been fucking yourself, your professor had undone the button and the zipper on his pants and slipped himself out. There he sat, your panties in his hand and wrapped around the thick length of his cock. The angry red tip poked up and out of the fabric with each slow thrust. And you could already tell based on how long his strokes were that you’d most likely be able to feel him poking against your belly from inside you. The idea made you moan and throw your head back.

Sam swiftly reprimanded you, “Ah, remember your eye contact. I want you to look at me.”

Shame spread over your body. What the fuck was going on? Were you really fingering yourself on his desk right next to papers that he was surely going to return to students? Was Sam really fisting his own cock with your underwear? And were you actually enjoying this?

“Sweetheart,” Sam’s self control faltered slightly with the name. But it grabbed your attention nonetheless. “I need you to look at me. Let me look into your eyes when you make yourself come on my desk, alright?”

This was about more than fixing your grade. This was about pleasing him…by pleasing yourself. And as you returned his look, you were all in.

Under his watchful, half lidded, hazel eye you allowed yourself to focus on your aching clit which laid in wait like a pearl beneath the hood of skin covering it. Carefully, you pulled that hood back before lightly spreading some of your slick with a finger. You let the skin settle back in place over the sensitive nub before going straight to work.

You began to rub slow circles on the hood and finally properly moaned. It took only a few seconds for the muscle memory of your nightly ritual to kick in as the pleasure started to mount. Finally, all of that pressure in your core had some actual weight to it; a weight that was already beginning to roll in shallow waves over your whole being.

"There you go, sweetheart. Let me hear you loud and clear. Don't wanna miss a single sound from you," Sam groaned and you caught how the grip he had on himself tightened, how his pace quickened.

While rolling your hips against your hand, you pulled up a side of your shirt, exposing even more of yourself to him. Now he could easily see one of your tits rise and fall with your staggered breaths. He could see how the ball of fat dimpled under your fingertips as you squeezed and pulled at your hardened nipple.

Both sources of simulation had you whimpering breathlessly, "Sam, I-I'm so close– Let me come, please?"

Sam glared and asked through gritted teeth, "That's not my name. What do you call me in class?"

"Professor?"

Sam nodded darkly.

You took the cue quickly and begged helplessly, "Please, professor, please let me come–" you were cut off by the sound of your pleasure starting to push you over the edge. 

Sam left you teetering, staring right over the border of this boundary. That boundary being an ethical nightmare that you had no clue how you'd navigate. But you wanted to be good for him; you craved his approval.

And thankfully, Sam gave it as he groaned, "There you go, good girl. You can come, you've got permission."

With that, you arched off the desk and burst with glorious clarity. A thin stream of your arousal drooled from your entrance as you rubbed yourself through the enormous implosions and the small aftershocks that followed. Your head was heavy with the fog of pleasure and you wanted to hang it back, give it a break.

But still, you were determined to keep your eyes on him, even as you pulled your fingers away from your trembling cunt and stuck them in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the wrinkled digits, soaking up every bit of yourself that you could.

Any sort of professionalism Sam had been trying to maintain up until that point shattered completely when he rolled his chair forwards. Closer to you now, you looked down into his soft eyes and watched how his normally objective stare went personal; emotional. He looked at you with the kind of admiration that made your heart flutter with pride.

He took his hand, placed it on your knee, and spread your legs further. His touch was so light, so soft that you could help feeling electricity dance along your spine.

"I thought you said you wouldn't touch me?" you whispered, only a hint of a smug smile tugging at your lips.

Choosing his words as carefully as ever, he explained, "That was before I decided that you needed some of my...guidance."

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚ #hauntedhoedown #haunted hoedown #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic

[jamilelucato]

Unlikely - Emmett Cullen

Summary: Edward Cullen discovers a surprising secret when he inadvertently tunes into the thoughts of a fellow student, [y/n] [y/l/n], revealing her crush on none other than his brother, Emmett. As their unexpected connection unfolds, both face the complexities of love and the challenges of their supernatural existence.

Pairing: [y/n] [y/l/n] x Emmett Cullen

Universe: Twilight

Author's Note: So, I have had this in store for a while, waiting for the right time to post it. I feel like Emmett deserves I do it. Btw, I can't promise a part 2 or something like that. For an unknown reason, it's been hard for me to write characters kissing and stuff. But get them flirting below.

Info: Emmett here is supposedly enroled in the same year as Edward and Bella, because I wanted to keep him in school whereas I wanted Rosalie gone. Love Rosalie, though. I'm telling you this because it's not canon, so... there you go.

### Edward was the first to notice, of course.

He wasn't paying much attention until this girl's thoughts popped louder than the rest of the cafeteria.

Edward already had so much trouble — keeping tabs on Bella Swan — that his most minor concern was the other students at Forks High School.

But her thoughts were loud and clear. I can't believe it! I… I am crushing on him! Gods, embarrassing…

Edward Cullen frowned. He was always around teenagers, and more often than not, they'd find themselves in love. Why was this random girl's mental voice so loud and clear, then?

He's never paid attention to me before. He just borrowed me a pen. Get a grip on yourself, [y/n]! The girl's mind shouted, reprehending herself.

"What is it, Edward?" Bella asked, calling back his attention to her. Edward was curious about the other students, but no one in the world came before Bella Swan to him.

"Someone's called my attention," Edward answered, letting Bella grasp his hand.

"Good or bad?" she asked.

"A student," Edward answered, unsure yet if listening to the random girl's thoughts so clearly was a bad sign. "She's found herself crushing on someone."

Bella looked puzzled. "Oh, well. It happens to all of us," she jested but still looked worried. "Any idea why her voice is louder?"

Even after all those many months apart, Bella quickly understood Edward's gift. But the loud voice had disappeared.

"It was [y/n] [y/l/n]. But I don't know who she's crushing on that can be so bad…" Edward let his sentence trail off, looking around the cafeteria for the human.

Emmett's face lit up, and he chimed in. "[y/n]? I talked to her today in Biology class. She's my lab partner."

Bella moved her neck to face Emmett better. "I did not know that."

Emmett shrugged. "I mean, it's not like we interact. She's been my partner for a while in that class, but you know…" he didn't finish his sentence, embarrassed to tell Bella what he really thought. But Edward read it all in Emmett's mind: but I don't usually bother with humans.

Edward pressed his lips together, reacting to his brother's thought. He also didn't want to tell Bella that he agreed.

"But what was it about [y/n], anyway? Is she in danger?" Emmett asked, not showing his concern. To Bella, it all seemed like curiosity. But to Edward, well, he saw Emmett's thoughts trailing off.

"No, not at all," Edward nodded. "I don't think I've tuned to her thoughts before, that's all. It was just so loud a minute ago."

"Ah," Emmett let out. What was she saying? I know you won't tell me, but you sure as hell told Bella.

"What I said is what I heard," Edward affirmed, answering Emmett's mind. 

"So she has a crush, good for her!" Emmett said, raising his tone just a bit but enough for Bella to notice. 

Before Edward could intrude on his brother's reaction, Emmett left.

***

Emmett sat at his seat, tensed. Being a vampire and all, he had no need for breathing, definitely no need for oxygen. But it was a habit to do so, to get a grasp of scent and also to act more "human". However, that day, he felt like he was hyperventilating.

So Edward had heard [y/n] had a crush on someone. No big deal. Was she one of the funniest girls he ever met? Yes. Did she have such a crooked smile that made her more beautiful? Yes. Did she seem to always understand him, even when he barely spoke to her? Yes. But that meant nothing and would stay meaning nothing, for she was a human, and he was a vampire. 

Emmett concluded it would have been better if Edward had not mentioned any of [y/n]'s thoughts. In fact, since Edward was always so focused on Bella, Emmett thought [y/n] would stay out of his radar. Goddammit.

"Hey, Emm," [y/n] said, catching Emmett by surprise as she sat beside him.

[y/n] was in many other classes Emmett was enrolled in, but Biology was the only course they actively sat together. Well, one time in English class, Emmett was left out of group partners, and [y/n] politely and unexpectedly asked him to join her group. But that had been one time.

He wouldn't admit it to his siblings, but [y/n] had caught him off guard. Emmett had been so distracted thinking about her that her scent passed unnoticed when she was finally there.

"Hi, [y/n]!" he replied, quickly cleaning his throat after noticing his "hi" had sounded a bit too high-pitched. He wished he had a nickname for [y/n] as she had, with time, shortened his name after the forced proximity. He had tried out some possibilities in his mind, but he was a man of his time, and just calling her by her first name and not simply "miss" was too much for his little mind.

"It's snowing today," she prompted, shifting her eyes from his face to the window nearby.

"I noticed," Emmett nodded.

"Do you plan to snow-fight your siblings?" she asked shyly after becoming embarrassed by his gruff reply.

Emmett's face lit up just a bit, and he hoped it was invisible for [y/n]'s human eyes. She's trying to make small talk, he concluded, smiling internally.

"You've noticed I do that, huh," he playfully leaned his head.

[y/n] smiled. "Last year, I saw you trying to hit Alice. She was quick though," she said, moving her shoulders as if to shrug, but not quite. "I just hope you don't plan to have your fight in the cafeteria again."

Emmett's eyebrows were eager to shoot up, but he controlled them just in time. So [y/n] had noticed him and his siblings since the year before. Of course, she had known Emmett since their first high school year — or should he say her first high school year? — and of course, one thing or another, she was bound to catch up about the Cullens. But to have detected him launching Alice a snowball... and to remember it, that was something.

"Be careful then," Emmett joked. "I can't make any promises."

"Oh, please," [y/n] rolled her eyes, shifting the way she sat so she could look to the front of the classroom. She continued without facing Emmett, "As if you would ever hit on me... I mean, on me! No! I mean, hit me! With a snowball."

Her face was so red Emmett thought her head was going to explode. Did humans' heads do that? Did they explode?

[y/n] saw he looked concerned, but she misinterpreted it. Emmett had barely noticed her slip in language use.

"I don't mean you would hit on me at all," she kept shaking her head as if to erase her language mistake. "Not that it matters; both are something you would never do," she whispered now, more to herself than to the boy, but being a vampire, he heard it all. "Forget it, Emmett. I'm so sorry."

Emmett was instantly calmer, but not because he was glad she apologised — why was she apologising again? — but because the redness was slowly disappearing from [y/n]'s face, which definitely meant she was not gonna explode, he felt very relieved, which surprised him. When Edward had mentioned, the year before, how easily humans could die, Emmett had thought his brother was being absurd. But he was worried about this human girl beside him for some reason.

He planned to ask [y/n] if she was indeed all right, but the professor walked in, and all the chances he had to do so seemed to disappear.

***

[y/n] could not, for her life, tell what Mr. Banner was going on and on about. Was it about cells? About nature? She was utterly unfocused, even though her eyes were fixed on the weird teacher. Well, actually, she would fix her gaze at anything and anyone, if that was enough, to avoid looking to her left and eyeing Emmett Cullen.

All her mind could do was blame herself. She had known Emmett since the Cullens came to the town; there was no reason for fuss. The family was undoubtedly the most beautiful of all. All of them could be models, including Dr. Carlisle, whom she met when she unintentionally had to stitch a bruise. Since entering high school and having known them, her gaze was fatally met with Emmett's.

It was not as if he had reacted in any other way, if not with boredom. She grew discouraged after each "incident" but continued to spy on the Cullen family. However, whenever Rosalie and Edward caught her staring, [y/n] felt uneasy and quickly averted her gaze. She knew there was no point in admiring Emmett Cullen when he already had Rosalie Hale by his side. So, who was [y/n] compared to the stunning blonde goddess?

[y/n] was extremely surprised when she witnessed the Cullens' return to Forks.

Seeing Bella Swan go through a "mourning process," [y/n] felt understood because she had felt the same way, although on a much smaller scale. However, she would never have confessed it or let it show. Who was she to miss the Cullens?

She never expected Edward Cullen or Emmett to come back, but one day, there they were. [y/n] arrived late one day and had not noticed the extra car in the parking lot. When it was time for biology class, [y/n] was caught off guard to see that she had a new (old) partner already sitting at the table they were supposed to share.

Letting herself dive into this thread of thought, [y/n] was sure that it was not at that moment, when he returned, that she saw herself surrendered to Emmett. Yes, she had gotten more loose and relaxed when she noticed that Rosalie had not accompanied her siblings or Jasper Hale because they had graduated. But Edward's gaze still haunted her. Something told her that the whole family moved by the boy's fault (even if the rumours said that Dr Carlisle had accepted a better job), so [y/n] was afraid that Edward would make his family move again.

After secretly paying attention, she was surprised to detect that Bella was also afraid of them disappearing again.

Before Biology class ended, [y/n]'s mind replayed a specific, very recent memory. The day before, she was about to write something down when her pen started failing. She thought she wasn't reacting noticeably, but somehow Emmett glimpsed her sudden need.

"Do you want a pen of mine to borrow?" he asked, already holding the thing out to her grasp.

[y/n] raised her eyes from her notebook to meet his golden gaze.

"Oh, thank you," she smiled, borrowing the pen.

Emmett had said nothing more and returned his gaze to Mr Banner. [y/n] thought she ought to do the same and rushed to write down the rest of the speech.

When the class had ended, [y/n] turned to Emmett before he could head out. "Here you go, Emm," she smiled at him, trying her hardest to look polite. "Thank you."

The nickname must have gotten him off guard — even though [y/n] was sure she had called him so before — because his golden eyes widened.

"You can keep it," he said, not a hint of hesitation, even though his expression seemed hesitant.

"Oh," [y/n] gasped. "Thanks again, then," she smiled with her cheeks high, feeling they were reddening.

It was then he surprised her: Emmett smiled.

She did not see it coming at all. [y/n] had talked to the boy before. They had even joked around — when Mr Benner said something sex-related, the duo was really juvenile for that topic, and they would always let a little chuckle out — but that smile was different. It was wide, genuine. Emmett showed all his beautiful white teeth at her, and she was mesmerised by the whole view. He had dimples.

Emmett Cullen had dimples!

[y/n] remembered stumbling in her words, trying to find something to say because she wanted Emmett to keep smiling. But he simply nodded at her and got up, leaving the classroom before [y/n] could form a coherent thought.

She spent the whole day revisiting the memory of his smile and dimples. She was frozen in that Biology class; it was as if she never left. In her mind, she kept the conversation going. She knew he was a clown — she liked him best of all the Cullens for it — and so perhaps, she could have prompted a joke, such as "Do you think we're so poor compared to you, rich Cullens, that I need a pen as a gift?" It could've been funny; maybe he would've kept smiling. Perhaps he would laugh but really laugh and not hold back as usual.

But, in the end, she said nothing, just like today.

When Mr Banner announced they were free, [y/n] instantly turned her gaze to Emmett.

"Oh, sorry there, Emm," she swallowed hard, trying to keep her brave facade as she spoke to him. "It seems there's no longer snow for your fight."

He shrugged, and a light of playfulness hit his face. "No problem there. I can just punch Edward straight up."

She wasn't sure if it had been his innocent way of speaking or if it had been the mention of just the right brother, but [y/n] cracked up in one of her loudest laughs yet. The students who hadn't already run out of the classroom all turned to stare at her.

Emmett seemed to get in a shocked state. He wasn't expecting that reaction.

"I'm sorry," [y/n] said, trying to catch her breath. It was not easy; she still wanted to laugh. "I... I don't know why that was so funny."

"Maybe because Edward has a very punchable face," Emmett suggested, letting go of his restraints and following [y/n] in chuckles.

"I'm sure you've done that many times," [y/n] raised a brow, instigating him to go on.

"Unfortunately," Emmett tilted, "no, I have not."

"Oh," [y/n] did not see that answer coming, "too much of a good brother?"

Emmett snorted a laugh. "Definitely not that. I just never seem to catch him," Emmett knew why that was so, whereas [y/n] would never have a clue: Edward read his mind any time Emmett tried to catch the sibling by surprise with punches or simply trying to give a scare.

As much as [y/n] wanted to continue the conversation, she had the next class to go to. She sighed lowly, but Emmett heard it right away, and he couldn't help smiling at her silly human reaction to leaving.

[y/n] stared at his smile like a child watching Santa come down from the chimney.

"Dimples," she thought aloud, not realising it until it was too late. Hoping Emmett didn't notice, she averted her eyes and started gathering her books, but the Cullen had heard it all too well.

He remained silent, though, allowing her heartbeat to stead again. When she was already up, probably about to nod him goodbye, he said, "You have dimples too."

***

Red is definitely her colour. How have I never noticed before? Besides that cute turtle neck she was wearing, when the red flushed her cheeks, that was...

The image totally got Edward by surprise. He was walking out of one of his classes when, passing the hallway, a mind ahead called his attention to a particular image. Then, the voice! The oh-so-familiar, very annoying mental voice of none other than Emmett Cullen.

In seconds, Edward was beside his sibling. "What was that?"

Shit! Emmett's face was as embarrassed as his mental voice. The sibling quickly started singing some random annoying pop song to pull Edward out of his mind, but it was too late.

"Why were you thinking of [y/n] like that?" Edward asked.

"Like what?" Emmett replied, but Edward's question worked, making Emmett revisit his thoughts, and [y/n]'s face popped up again, with Edward getting a complete view.

The old-school vampire was suddenly repulsed and stepped slightly to the side.

You are the one in my mind! Emmett accused him in thought.

"Not because I want to, believe me!" Edward exclaimed, returning to his spot next to Emmett. "Brother, I better hope you know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything," Emmett said defensively.

Edward raised a brow, wishing Emmett could read his thoughts and see how foolish in love Emmett had thought about [y/n].

"Stay out of my business," Emmett nudged his brother. I can't find anyone pretty anymore? 

"After having Rosalie, I highly doubt you'd think that of a human," Edward answered Emmett's unspoken question.

"Rosalie and I... we're not a couple. We have our fun; that's all," Emmett said. "Besides, we haven't had fun in decades; you know that."

Edward knew because he had read their sex-deprived thoughts before. Still, he had thought Emmett was evolving, for he had stopped picturing Rosalie in a… needy way. But now, it seemed it had a different reason why.

Suddenly, another piece fell into place.

"She has fallen for you," Edward gasped in such a whisper only vampire hearing could catch it.

What? Emmett's mind shouted. "Don't be silly," he said aloud.

"It was definitely you [y/n] mentioned having a crush on yesterday," Edward continued his theory, forcing them both to stop walking and stay in the middle of the hallway. "That's probably why she caught my attention; she must have exclaimed your name! In thought," he added, although it was apparent.

"Are you sure about this?" Emmett asked, out of habit mostly, for he knew that no amount of hoping could make Edward wrong, not when he had a sibling so powerful.

Emmett's mind was racing as he tried to process it all. It was the first time Edward had trouble keeping up with him. Emmett was generally slower, even mentally, than Edward, but that was not the case now as he tried to understand everything about [y/n]. Edward caught up to some images — [y/n] blushing, [y/n] making a joke and laughing alone, and then the terrifying one. It was similar to the ones Edward had regarding Bella, too: [y/n] with eyes so red and skin so pale that there was no denying her heart no longer beat.

But when Edward returned his gaze to his taller brother, Emmett was not sad at the view, not half as much as Edward was when he thought of Bella as a vampire.

"Stop it," Edward begged, noticing Emmett's mind went on; he had started enduring the idea of Bella talking to [y/n] about what it was like to love a monster.

Emmett shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. "Sorry, man. It's just that...I never thought someone like her would fall for me."

Edward's worries shifted topics. "Why would you say that?" Edward had felt like that; he still felt like that with Bella, always thinking of himself as a killer and not deserving of love. But Emmett was most comfortable being a vampire out of all his family members. So, his brother had never thought to see him doubting himself.

Emmett's thoughts were faster than his tongue. Not even Rosalie fell for me, not really, and she was the one that found me, and she's our... species. [y/n] is a human girl with a life ahead of her, a full one at that; I don't see how she'd fallen for me. "Are you sure it's love?" Emmett asked out loud.

"Well, she thought it was a crush," Edward replied, returning to his own memories of [y/n]. But he didn't dwell on them for long. Edward was still trying to process Emmett's confession about Rosalie. He had always seen Emmett as cheerful, never realising that his brother might also feel unloved. They had more in common than Edward had ever thought.

Emmett sighed, and even before Edward could say anything — advice or a comforting word — Emmett lowered his head. "I know, Edward. I understand the risks."

Edward frowned. He couldn't believe Emmett immediately concluded that Edward would be mad at him. Of course, there were risks, not just because the girl involved was human. Even if Emmett didn't think Rosalie loved him (and Edward, being a mind reader and all, agreed), she would also cause some trouble. 

But who was Edward to judge his brother's choices regarding a human?

"Look, if you decide to pursue this relationship, I'll support you."

Emmett smiled, surprised but yet feeling grateful for his brother's support. Thank you, he thought, and Edward nodded.

Edward thought love was a powerful emotion, and he couldn't blame Emmett for feeling like he did. However, he hoped that Emmett would make the right decision, whatever that may be.

#emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen x y/n #emmett cullen #twilight saga #twilight #edward cullen

[ineedmorefanfics2]

CONGRATS on the followers!! It is an amazing milestone. I saw you are doing requests so here is mine for the #followercelebration:

Spencer Reid’s college friend visits the BAU (and is very similar intelligence to Reid and went to college at the same age as him). they are both child geniuses.

She is currently working at Scotland Yard and they realise that their cases match up.

You can choose if there is a love interest (but please can it be female… JJ)

Have a lovely day!

Mutual Friends

Spencer Reid X Female!Reader (Platonic), Jennifer Jareau X Female!Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: You’re a sweetheart honestly, I loved this request and while I’m keeping my celebration open to smaller pieces and drabbles, I did leave this open ended for a potential part two. I hope you like it and I hope YOU have a lovely day! <3

You’ve always been a gifted child, a young genius with the world at their hands. School was child’s play to you. You had surpassed high school by age twelve and went onto Cal Tech, soon becoming an investigator for Scotland Yard. Cal Tech had been your saving grace, because it just so happened to be where you had met your best friend, Spencer Reid.

It was rare for a twelve year old to be in college, but even rarer for two. The pair of you clicked instantly, bonding over the loneliness the two of you were faced with given your impressive intelligence.

It was nice to have a friend just like yourself, someone you could relate to. The two of you did everything together during your four years of college, and even when the two of you went your separate ways you continued to keep in touch.

Spencer was the first person you called when you realized your investigation was connected to the BAU. He had been so excited to see you again, blabbing on about how you’re going to love his team and how hyped he is for you to meet them.

Now you stood outside of the BAU, case file in your bag and a giddy feeling in your chest.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed onto your satchel just a little tighter before making your way into the building.

After going through the procedure of checking your pockets and identification, the security guard sent you to elevator.

You couldn’t help the small pit of anxiety forming in your stomach at the thought of seeing Spencer again. It had been years since you’ve seen each other in person, and you were lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous.

Fixing the lapels of your coat, you left the elevator and made your way to the bullpen.

There was a group of people standing around a bulletin board, covered in pictures similar to the ones sitting in your satchel.

It didn’t tell long to recognize the mop of curly brown hair that belonged to your best friend. “Spencer?” You called.

The entire group turned to you and Spencer’s face lit up. “Y/N!” He bounded over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s been so long!”

You let out a laugh, squeezing him back with just as much enthusiasm. Spencer was never one for hugs, so for him to hold you as tightly as he did washed away the anxiety you’d previously felt. “Too long.” You replied.

Spencer finally let go, turning to his team with his arm around your shoulder.

A man with dark brown hair and tired eyes approached you. “You must be Y/N, I’m Aaron Hotchner. We’ve heard nothing but great things about you and we’re happy to be working with you.” Aaron held out his hand and you were quick to shake it.

He turned towards the rest, pointing them out as he named them. “This is David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Emily Prentiss and Jennifer Jareau.”

You couldn’t help the flutter of your heart when you locked eyes with Jennifer. She was absolutely gorgeous.

“It’s nice to meet you all.” You smiled, avoiding Jennifer’s eyes. “Especially you David, I’ve read all of your books!”

David beamed, “You’ve got class then.” He teased, the group letting out a laugh.

“So you’re the best friend Spencer doesn’t shut up about?” Derek asked causing Spencer to blush. “We’ve heard you’re quite the little genius.”

“I will admit I’ve got some brains, but definitely nothing rivaling Spencer’s.” You nudged your friend.

“It’s hard to rival that eidetic memory.” Jennifer laughed.

“You’ve got that right.” Emily added.

“As nice as this is, maybe it could wait till after. We’ve still got a case.” Hotch reminded, though he smiled gently. You nodded, opening up your satchel and taking out your files.

“All right, let’s get to work.”

You and the BAU got right into it and after a grueling forty eight hours of non stop work, you were finally given a break.

You were sat in Spencer’s chair, chowing on a muffin Penelope had gifted you when you noticed Jennifer, or JJ as she had insisted you call her, and Emily talking in hushed voices. Occasionally they’d look at you, JJ’s cheeks lighting up red.

You couldn’t deny you had the slightest crush on her. Not only is she gorgeous, but she’s also kind and smart. She’s got an aura that makes you feel safe and loved, and you honestly couldn’t get enough of it.

The two of you had shared a bit of an intimate moment earlier and you couldn’t help but think of it.

You were trying to figure out how the coffee machine worked, getting frustrated when it didn’t do what you wanted. You were tired and sore, and all you wanted was caffeine.

After berating the machine you had let out a huff of defeat, and then JJ appeared. She’d asked if you were okay, and when you told her your predicament she told you she’d handle it.

She made your coffee, exactly to your liking without you having to tell her. When you questioned her she let out a small shrug, “I notice things.” She said.

You couldn’t get the moment out of your head. She noticed YOU. You knew you were overthinking it. Hell, you’ve only known each other for two days, but in the back of your mind you couldn’t help but think that maybe that moment meant something.

Over the past two days, you’ve taken into account the way she was always near you. Helping you with research, complimenting your intelligence, she even bought you lunch.

It was hard to tell if she was just being nice or maybe there was something more. You wanted to ask, but you also wanted to save yourself the embarrassment of rejection.

So you continued to keep your distance. Unfortunately for you, it was hard to hide your longing looks and awkward behavior from Spencer. While he teased you about your schoolgirl crush, he also tried convincing you to ask her out. You had adamantly refused, denying your obvious feelings through stuttered sentences.

Maybe you’d try to ask her after the case was over, then if she rejected you, you could just go home and hopefully never see her again. Or maybe you should just leave it alone, maybe-

A voice broke you from your thoughts and you looked up to see the woman of the hour standing in front of you.

“Hey.” She said.

“Hey.” You replied.

“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping,” She started. “but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out to dinner sometime. Maybe when we finish this case?”

You couldn’t help the way your jaw dropped. You spluttered, mouth opening and closing.

“That means yes.” Another voice spoke behind you. The two of you turned to Spencer, who was smiling cheekily.

You sent him a playful glare, cheeks heating before you turned back to JJ. “Yes, I’d love to.”

JJ smiled at you before Hotch began calling everyone back in. The rest of the night you and JJ shared glances back and forth.

You couldn’t wait for this case to be over.

#followercelebration #spencer reid x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jj x reader #aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

[beautifulchris]

frog choir

pairing: yang jeongin x gn!reader

wc: 3,5k

featuring: bang chan, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, nct’s mark and chenle

summary: jeongin joins the frog choir without knowing you’re in it too (he might like you)

genres: hogwarts!au, classmates to lovers!au, gryffindor!jeongin, slytherin!reader, fluff

warnings: i don’t think there is?

notes: moodboard made by me, pictures found on the internet. reposting works from my old blog

order of writing: chan - jisung - minho - hyunjin - jeongin - seungmin - changbin - felix

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @straykidsland @kwritersworld

tag list: @badwithten @soobin-chois @raethethey send ask/dm/comment to be added!

Because of his bloodline and his parents’ friends, Jeongin had only wizard friends during his childhood. Once at Hogwarts, however, they were all sorted into different houses and he ended up alone in Gryffindor. It wasn’t a problem for him and they still spent time together at first. But his friends spent more and more time with their housemates until one day, they finally didn’t have time for each other anymore. By that time, he found someone else too though. He met one of his prefects, Chan, who took him under his wings during the first month he arrived.

Jeongin already knew a lot about Hogwarts and the courses, he knew what facultative courses he would take the second he would have the chance but since his parents didn’t like the Frog Choir, they never talked about it. Therefore, when he first saw the students on his very first day, singing all together with frogs, he was amazed. Will his toad ever croak as beautifully? Cause yeah, he believed his toad had to be part of it to be able to join the Frog Choir and he never dared to ask Chan about it.

He tried for many months to harmonize with Froakie, but all he did was ignoring his owner or after a while, croaking so violently it was like he was telling him to shut up. He realized that, maybe, the problem didn’t come from his toad but from him. And so he exercised his voice to make it sound more pleasant to hear perhaps. He would know if it was enough when his toad would accept to harmonize with him, he figured. Jeongin practised for almost 2 years and during summer before his 3rd year, he was seated in the garden of his house with his toad, enjoying the sun. He mindlessly sang one of his favorite songs and to his surprise, Froakie croaked in rhythm with him. It became one of his happiest moments.

The second day of his 3rd year, he asked his charms teacher if he could pass the audition to join the Frog Choir. He easily passed it and was excited to start. When he found Chan revising in their common room, he directly told him.

“Chan! You’ll never know what I just did.”

The older one lifted his head up from the potions book he was reading with a smile. “Let me guess. You just had your first muggle studies lesson of the year and it’s fascinating?”

He never really knew about the muggle world so he meant to take it since his first year and he knew it would rapidly become one of his favorite classes.

“Well yeah, I did, but that’s not it.”

“What could you be more excited about if not that?” Chan was really curious now while Jeongin nervously played with the hem of his sleeve.

“The Frog Choir.”

Chan was confused because Jeongin never mentioned it before. “What about it?”

“I auditioned and got in.”

Chan’s face lit up. He was genuinely pleased to hear that his friend got to enjoy singing. “No way! I’m so happy for you Jeongin. You know who’s apart of it?”

Jeongin’s eyes widened a bit. “… No?”

Mark, a fellow Gryffindor and Quidditch player that was passing by, took part in the conversation. “There’s my 2nd year friend Chenle, his best friend and Yunho from my year.”

Oh, Chenle’s best friend. You.

“Yeah and Jaehyun too. Thanks, Mark.”

The boy smiled and left the common room. Jeongin grew nervous. As if reading his mind, Chan tried to make him feel better.

“Everything’s going to be okay, I promise!” He wished it would.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

The next day, when he entered the Great Hall filled with older and younger students chatting, seated on the benches or up on the platform, all excited to be in the choir this year as well, he felt great.

You saw him approach the platform hesitantly, he didn’t seem to be friends with anyone in particular.

“Oh, isn’t that Jeongin from Gryffindor?” asked Chenle next to you. You smiled unconsciously.

“Yeah, we should go talk to him.”

“You’re right, he looks kinda lost,” Chenle smiled.

You got up from one of the benches and joined him.

“Hey,” you greeted as you tapped his shoulder, “what are you doing here?”

“I—” he coughed but quickly regained composure. “I passed the audition to be part of the Frog Choir.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” you exclaimed, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, and Chenle looked apologetic for your behavior. When you realized, you nudged him and smiled innocently at Jeongin, who couldn’t stop his cheeks from heating up. 

The professor, who was also the charms and music professor, entered the Great Hall and all the whispers faded away. You turned to watch him get closer.

“Hello dear students. Welcome to the new ones and welcome back to the old ones.” A loud cheer followed his words and Jeongin felt like he knew he would enjoy this class.

He eventually had to present himself, like everyone else and when he did, he spoke in a small voice, showing Froakie, snuggled in his small hands. Everyone had sympathetic smiles and he heard two or three older people saying he was cute. You found him really cute too, but you kept it to yourself.

When you had to present yourself, you were at ease, knowing almost everyone already. “I’m Y/N, third year in the choir, and I got Yggorf with me, like always.”

The professor explained what he explained every year, to teach the rules to the new ones and remind them to those who were there the years before. While he talked, you were humming discreetly and mindlessly. Jeongin wasn’t far from you and it made him happy and relaxed to hear your voice, he found it soothing.

“Hey, can I ask you where Yggorf comes from?” he whispered as he got closer to you.

“Just Froggy backwards. I know, I put so much thought on this,” you laughed quietly.

Jeongin suddenly remembered the first time he saw you, the night all of the first year students were sorted, his first night ever in the castle. When you got called by a tall and intimidating professor to sit on the chair in front of everyone, you were a bit anxious. You were just eleven and you didn’t really know who you were exactly yet nor in which house you would be put. The professor put the Sorting Hat on your head and it took its time but finally, shouted “Slytherin!”. You smiled and joined your housemates. Jeongin, already seated at the Gryffindor table, gently clapped his hands until an older Gryffindor glared at him. He realized the only ones who clapped were the same house students but couldn’t comprehend why he couldn’t be happy for every new student. And so, he kept clapping quietly for everyone else (and kept doing that every year).

You quickly found a friend, though. Chenle was a bit weird but adorable. You went to see him in your common room after your first day because you thought he was funny in class and he offered you to play gobstones with him. Since, you play together at least four times a week.

Jeongin and Froakie enjoyed every practice, Jeongin because he could spend time with his new friends and Froakie because he was hanging with other toads and frogs. You suspected Froakie and your own toad, Yggorf, to be friends as well cause they were almost glued to each other every chance they got.

Jeongin realized Chenle didn’t bring any toads to practice though.

“Hey Chenle, you don’t have a frog?”

“No, I have a rat.”

“Oh, but you’re in the frog choir anyway?” Jeongin’s face screamed confusion.

“Yeah of course, don’t tell me you thought you absolutely needed a frog to join— oh. Is that why you only joined this year?” Jeongin nodded. “Oh.”

“It’s alright, at least Froakie made me work on myself so I don’t regret it.” Maybe, just maybe, if he didn’t work on himself, tried out for the Frog Choir in his first year and didn’t get in, he wouldn’t have tried again and this moment wouldn’t exist.

“I’m glad to hear that, because you have quite the skill.”

“Thanks, you ain’t bad yourself.”

Chenle thanked Jeongin and both smiled at each other before going back to practice.

Jeongin and you had classes together, like care of magical creatures. He was really passionate about it and cared about them a lot. He took the subject so seriously that he knew almost everything there was to know about every creature you learned about. It made him the best in this class and you admired him for that.

Jeongin often talked to you about muggle studies. You didn’t take that course because you were a halfblood and already knew everything you needed to know. Every time Jeongin had a question, he went to you in the halls or after classes to know the answer, not able to wait for the next muggle studies class to ask the professor herself or even ask Chan, a muggleborn. Chenle kept telling you it was because he wouldn’t miss a chance to spend time with you.

Since you started talking, you spent time with each other every chance you got, practice, shared classes, after class, weekends… Jeongin had now found friends he was never going to let go of. You were happy to spend time with him, he was really cute and charming.

Chenle was feeling like third wheeling but he didn’t mind, he just wanted his friends to date and be happy.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“Jeongin, we’ve been friends for months now, and I know I can trust you.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m going to be straightforward. Do you like Y/N?”

Jeongin was out with Chenle, walking on the school grounds while you were at the library, finishing a mortally boring history of magic homework. His cheeks heated up at the mention of your name followed by the word “like”.

“What? Of course I like them, we’re friends,” he tried while nervously playing with his hands.

“I mean more than friends,” he innocently smiled.

“I—” Jeongin gulped. “I don’t know. I could. Or not. I mean, they’re cute. And smart. Passionate too. Also—”

“So, no feelings, huh?” Chenle laughed at his friend’s rambling and gave him a tap on the shoulder.

You joined them soon after and found Jeongin acting weirdly. You didn’t question it, he was definitely adorable.

Obviously, Jeongin wasn’t indifferent to your charm, he liked you since your first year but never dared to talk to you. Still, he needed to understand his feelings better, to at least know if it was friendship or love. He needed to talk about it with Chan. Jeongin went to the Gryffindor common room to find him and he was alone on the couch.

“Chan, I need you.”

“Why that serious tone?”

“It’s about Y/N.”

“Chenle’s best friend? What about them?”

Jeongin sat next to his older friend on the comfortable couch. “They’re more than that, Chan. How do you know you like someone?”

Chan smiled fondly at the thought of his lover. They had been together for around two months now. “Well, you always want to spend time with the person. You’re happy just to see them smile, you look up to them and are whipped for them. Like you could do anything for them in a heartbeat. These kinds of things.”

“I guess I really like them, then.” He looked down, lost in thought —of you, naturally.

“Cool! When are you going to tell them?”

“Wait, I need to know if they feel the same way now,” Jeongin put a hand up, pouting lightly.

Chan smiled. “What if they end up asking you first?”

“I would be relieved, not going to lie. Because it would mean they like me too, and I wouldn’t have to worry about saying the right things,” he explained.

“Our Jeonginnie’s in love~” Chan chanted excitedly.

“Stop!” Jeongin whined.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“Chenle!” you called your friend who was doing his history homework on an armchair in the common room.

“Yes, Y/N??”

“Did Jeongin ever talk to you about me?”

He put down his quill and glared you in the eye as you sat next to him, looking at him questionably. “Did you finally understand you have feelings for him?”

You recoiled in your seat. “What? No—”

“Don’t lie to me Y/N, I’m your best friend.”

“Why would you ask a question you already know the answer of, then?” you pouted.

“To see if you’re ready for that talk.”

You sighed. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he winked, then wrote one last sentence to his parchment before tidying up his stuff. “So. I talked to him about you and let me tell you that boy is WHIPPED. Can’t blame him, you’re cute.”

“Thanks… wait, he likes me too??”

Ignoring you, he went on with his plan. “Now, the question is… will you ask him out?”

“Wait, am I ready for that? I’m only thirteen!”

“True, but we’re not talking about marriage nor kids yet… just a romantic relationship with kisses and hugs.”

“You seem to have thought about all this a lot…”

“I’ve waited for this talk for months now,” he sighed tiredly.

“Shouldn’t we ask Changbin about love? No offense, but he might know more about the subject.”

“Of course, go ask him. He’s by the fireplace.” You turned around and saw Changbin on the couch, seemingly revising a charms spell. You walked up to him.

“Hey Changbin, can I ask you a question?”

He looked up at you with a smile. “Hey, isn’t that my favorite Slytherin? Green really looks good on you, Y/N.” You giggled, Changbin was really nice to the younger students but you knew it was a Changbin trait, not a prefect one.

“You said I was your favorite Slytherin yesterday!” shouted Chenle, pouting. Changbin laughed while you pulled your tongue out in his direction.

“Sit, tell me everything,” he said as he patted the place next to him.

“Well, it’s a matter of love.”

“Oh, love. Aren’t you a bit young to be thinking about that?”

“Maybe, but I just needed your advice. I like Jeongin, and I don’t really know how to tell him.” Actually, he just heard from Minho, who heard it from Jisung, who heard it from Chan that Jeongin liked you.

“Jeongin, you say? He’s one of my friends. My little finger told me he likes you too, you can go and ask him. As for how, why not propose him to go at Madam Puddifoot's tea shop? It's perfect for dates.”

“Thank you so much Changbin, you’re the best!” You hugged him tight and returned to your best friend, a big smile on your face.

“Should I remind you that you told me I was the best this very morning?”

“You’re both the best for different reasons. Like, you’re my best friend and he’s my best prefect.”

“I’ll let it pass,” he said, not without rolling his eyes.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

After charms class, you stopped Jeongin to ask him something while Chenle left in a hurry.

“Would you, maybe, come with me at Madam Pudifoot’s tea shop tomorrow at 4:30pm?”

Jeongin went silent for a few seconds, processing what he had just heard. It sounded like you were asking him on a date, because the tea shop was known for couple dates. He was confused but his face lit up and he agreed vividly. 

“Cool, it’s a date. I have to go to Hogsmeade now but I’ll see you later,” you explained and got out of class, Jeongin behind you. A date? His stomach was doing things he didn’t think were possible.

“Want me to come with you?”

“No! I mean, no need, I’m going with Chenle already. Why don’t you practice the banishing charm we just learned?”

“I—” But you were already out of sight, finding Chenle and going to Hogsmeade together. You didn’t mean to be rude, you just couldn’t take him with you for this.

“I did it. He said yes.” Your smile said it all about how you were feeling and Chenle was pondering what reaction was best, smile or laugh.

“You’re brave, I’m proud of you. As expected, he likes you very much.” Your cheeks burned and you didn’t talk until you were at Hogsmeade.

“I’ll get him cauldron cakes, he said he liked those a few weeks ago,” Chenle said before entering Honeydukes.

“Right. I’ll see what I can find in Gladrags Wizardwear.” You entered the shop as well, searching for accessories. Pretty matching bracelets were disposed of on a shelf and you immediately felt like they were the one. Paying 6 galleons, you asked the owner to wrap one of the bracelets in a lovely gift wrap.

When you found Chenle outside of Honeydukes, he chuckled at the bracelet on your wrist. “You really know how to win a boy’s heart.”

“What’s that supposed to mean??” You looked offended but he just giggled.

Meanwhile, Jeongin went to see Hyunjin for advice. He found him on the pitch and watched the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice.

“Hyunjin!” he called as the older one came out of the changing room.

“Jeongin, hey.”

“Y/N just asked me! On a date!” He excitedly jumped around.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing!” he high fived his friend. “When is it planned?”

“Tomorrow.”

The older raised an eyebrow. “But that’s your birthday?”

“I haven’t told them that… By the way, right after that, they said they had to go to Hogsmeade with Chenle and insisted I don’t tag along,” he pouted, looking down.

“Jeongin, don’t you think that, perhaps, they also need time to prepare?”

“Right, of course. Can you help me with that?”

“Get ready, I won’t repeat myself,” he said with a smile, throwing his arm on Jeongin's shoulders, walking together to the school.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

The big day had arrived, you were waiting at a table next to the window, playing with your new bracelet. Jeongin entered the shop, spotted you and sat in front of you. Madam Puddifoot came taking the order and left just as fast. It was awkward at first, neither of you being totally comfortable with the date thing. Jeongin decided to act as usual, not wanting to be weird and following his older friend’s advice diligently.

It soon was as if you did this your whole life. You chatted like you always did.

Your tea was almost completely drunk. You took the gift you bought the day before out of your pocket and put it on the table, next to Jeongin’s cup of tea.

“What is this?” he asked, surprised.

“Your gift. Happy birthday,” you smiled contently.

He was delighted you would ask him on a date the day of his birthday but receiving a gift from you? He was nearly overwhelmed by happiness. “How did you know?” he enquired while opening it.

You shrugged. “I asked Changbin.”

“Woah, it’s really beautiful!” Jeongin’s eyes were sparkling, examining the bracelet. “So pretty. Thank you so much, Y/N.”

“My pleasure. Let me put it on your wrist.” As you did, his eyes fell on your own wrist and his eyes broadened.

“Did you get us matching bracelets?” You acquiesced shyly. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”

He took your hands in his and you stayed like that for a few minutes, until someone from another table sneezed.

“Regarding us, what I know is that I really like you. I want to hold hands with you, hug you whenever you need and be there for you. If you’re okay with that, then would you be my boyfriend?”

“I’d be the happiest, Y/N. Just spending time with you makes me so happy.”

You kept the heart eyes for each other and the rest of the date went smoothly.

The moment you set foot on the entrance hall, Chenle ran to you and started screaming when he saw your intertwined fingers.

He clapped his hands and congratulated you both. He then wished a happy birthday to Jeongin and gave him his gift.

“Oh Chenle, thank you so much! I adore those.”

Chenle winked at you and smiled brightly.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“Hey Chan, I just saw Jeongin and Y/N passing by, wearing each other’s ties. Isn’t that cute?”

“It really is. I would have loved to try it too but my significant other is also a Gryffindor,” he shrugged, smiling.

“That’s right. My best friend is also a Slytherin, so we can’t do it either,” Changbin sighed.

“You still didn’t make your move?”

“They like someone else…”

“Oh, it sucks. Stay strong, my friend.”

“You’re really good at pep talk,” Changbin said sarcastically. “I can’t believe your house is in first position —for now— for the Quidditch cup.”

“Watch us win it,” he smugly said with a wink.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please let me know <3 and here's the masterlist!

#kflixnet #k-labels #straykidsland #kwritersworldnet #kpop #writing #yang jeongin #stray kids #hogwarts au #fluff #bang chan #hwang hyunjin #seo changbin #nct chenle #nct mark #stray kids hogwarts au #kpop hogwarts au #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #skz x reader

[ahaura]

(Dec. 8) by Mahmoud Alyazji

Article title:

Refaat Alareer taught life

Article text:

The inspiring writer and educator Refaat Alareer has been assassinated by Israel. (Via Instagram) 

I remember how Dr. Refaat Alareer entered the classroom.

He immediately put a few books on the desk. They included Gaza Writes Back – a collection he had edited – and Rifqa by Mohammed El-Kurd.

Dr. Refaat always carried them around. They were a part of his identity, as a reader, writer and storyteller.

He introduced himself, said a few things and told a few jokes. He listened to what we had to say, then took Gaza Writes Back in his hands and started to read aloud.

His face lit up; his eyes opened wide.

He really captured the essence of “Omar X,” a story by Yousef Aljamal.

Dr. Refaat told us that he recently bought a car. The worst part about doing so was that he couldn’t listen to the stories of taxi drivers in Gaza any more.

“I could spend hours just looking at beautiful sentence structures or reading stories,” he said, smiling.

Another favorite hobby of his was making memes. He encouraged us to be similarly creative.

My first impression of Dr. Refaat was that he was different in a good way. His enthusiasm was real.

I had never been able to concentrate properly during a three-hour lecture until I attended one of his.

He taught me creative writing.

He taught me poetry.

He taught me Shakespeare.

He had a profound connection with modern plays and poems and taught them in a funny and interactive way.

Encouragement

When I remember Dr. Refaat Alareer, I don’t just remember him as someone who worked at the university. He was someone who taught life.

He was my friend. Someone I looked up to – like a father.

Even in the darkest of times, he would check on me and other students. He told us that if we needed anything, please let him know.

The last time he texted me via WhatsApp was on 27 November.

He reproached me for not publishing anything since the beginning of Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza. And he encouraged me to write.

On 3 December, The Electronic Intifada published an article I wrote titled “World shrinks for Gaza’s children.” I sent Dr. Refaat a link to it but I wasn’t sure if he saw my message.

I have subsequently learned, though, that he reposted a link to the article on Twitter. When I saw that, I couldn’t help but cry.

You believed in me, Dr. Refaat.

You believed in the strength of words.

You told us, “If I must die, you must live to tell my story.”

You always gave me confidence and strength.

I was over the moon when you asked me to deliver a class when you were sick.

I remember when you edited my first story and said, “I see a writer in you.”

You always paid attention to the details.

You shared my first published story on a WhatsApp group before I had even told you it was published. “Good job, Mahmoud,” you said.

You made me a writer.

You were the best teacher I ever had.

I will always be proud to have been one of your students.

I miss your lectures.

I miss the comments you wrote on the right hand margins of our papers.

My eyes filled with tears while I was writing these words. But I wiped them away and continued writing.

You are not dead, Dr. Refaat.

I promise that I will always write.

I will fight with my pencil and my poems.

I will never forget how much you brought to my life.

You will always be my inspiration.

#refaat alareer #mahmoud alyazji #articles #palestine #📁.zip

[weirdkpopgirl]

Café Love | Jaemin Fic #2

Title: Café Love

Genre: Fluff, Barista AU

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cancer

Word Count: ~2.3k

Author's Note: This is just something I've been working on the past week. I am a part-time barista, so I got a little inspiration for this story. My friend also helped me come up with half of this, so I credit her great ideas. I really hope you guys like this. Thank you for reading ^ - ^

∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘

Ever since freshman year of college started, Kim (Y/n) found herself in three places. The campus building where she attended classes, her apartment where she studied and recharged from social overstimulation, and the part-time job at Cafe 7 she had gotten two summers ago.

(Y/n) honestly enjoyed being a barista. Not so much the interacting-with-customers part. It was more of the soft music that played in the background and the aroma of coffee beans she had grown to like. Having friendly coworkers was also a plus.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Jaemin waved from behind the counter when he saw her coming through the entrance. She smiled and shyly waved back.

Jaemin was one of those friendly coworkers. When they met a few months ago, (Y/n) was a little intimidated by his charismatic personality. But after getting to know him, she came to see that he was a pretty interesting person. 

Early on, she learned he was a college dropout who would be in the year above her if he hadn’t. He loved coffee and drank two to three cups with four extra shots daily. On his off days, he enjoyed photography and often liked to take pictures of his friends.

The two of them exchanged small talk until their other coworker, Hyejin came, allowing Jaemin to get off his shift. He usually worked in the morning on weekdays while (Y/n) took the closing shifts because of school.

Jaemin often noticed the tiredness in her eyes, whether she had stayed up too late studying or was drained from class. Nonetheless, she still came nearly every day, ready to work.

A few minutes after he clocked out, he realized he forgot his phone. Just as he reentered the cafe, he spotted (Y/n) and Hyejin behind the counter. (Y/n) was preparing a customer’s order, while Hyejin was talking to her. 

Not wanting to eavesdrop, he headed to the back and grabbed his phone to leave again. But he stopped in his tracks when he heard his name mentioned.

“Na Jaemin, is kinda cute don’t you think?” He heard Hyejin say. “He seems like your ideal type.”

(Y/n) hated how her cheeks immediately flushed at Hyejin’s comment. What she said wasn’t necessarily wrong. For one thing, Jaemin was one of those rare guys who was genuinely kind. He was introverted, which sparked many conversations about their quiet lifestyles. He also had a lovely smile.

Even though (Y/n) wasn’t too experienced (or at all) in the field of dating, Jaemin was everything she could hope for in a guy. Yet—as much as the thought of him made her heart flutter, a sense of discouragement came with it.

“Yeah he is. But I don’t think it would work out.” (Y/n) shook her head, as she poured steamed milk into a cup with espresso. 

“Why do you say that?”

She reached for a lid and cup holder. “I just…can’t see why a guy would like me. Much less someone like Na Jaemin.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyejin scoffed in disbelief. “There’s so many things to like about you—”

But (Y/n) quickly interrupted and handed Hyejin the drink she just made. “No, there really isn’t. Now, can you deliver this to the girl over there?”

A frown etched on Jaemin’s face, upset by what he heard. (Y/n)’s words stuck with him the rest of the day. Frankly, he’s liked her for quite some time now. In the beginning, she was very reserved and only spoke to him when necessary. But once she warmed up, he thought of (Y/n) as a bundle of everything soft and cute in the world.

He loved the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. He liked the sweet tone she used when telling customers to have a good day before they left. His heart always did flip-flops whenever she hummed to certain songs that played in the cafe.

“You’re so whipped,” Jeno teased, after listening to Jaemin’s rant back at home.

Jaemin’s feet kicked on the bed. “I just don’t understand! Why would she think that I wouldn’t like her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should try showing her you do,” Jeno shrugged.

He let his best friend’s words sink into his head. The suggestion didn’t sound too bad.  If he wanted (Y/n) to know his true feelings, showing was better than telling right?

So following Jeno’s advice, Jaemin became determined to prove (Y/n) wrong. His official plan to pursue her was formed.

He practically had to beg their manager, Johnny, to put him and (Y/n) together for more shifts. It took some convincing, but the tall male eventually gave in.

“(Y/n)-ah!” He called, standing by the espresso machine.

“Yeah?”

He picked up the slip of receipt paper with a customer’s order on it and scratched his head. “I forgot how to make a matcha frappe. Can you show me?”

(Y/n) sighed and shook her head before grabbing the bottle of matcha from the fridge. 

“Haven’t you been working here longer than me? How did you forget?” She lightly scolded.

In response, Jaemin smiled brightly at her. “Luckily, I have a beautiful, smart coworker to help me out.”

He didn’t miss the shade of pink that was dusted across her cheeks. But she tried to play it off and cleared her throat before asking him to hand her a measuring cup. 

After that day, there were several other occurrences where (Y/n) would find herself in a flustered state. Na Jaemin was seriously driving her crazy. Receiving compliments from him wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But recently, (Y/n) felt like he was doing it on a different level.

After closing, Johnny would say “Good job today, guys!” 

Jaemin would then add, “Especially our (Y/n)-i~!”

The days passed and Jaemin’s flirtations continued. 

One day he would be like, “That sweater looks nice on you, (Y/n)-ssi. The color compliments your skin!”

Another time he said, “I like the way you styled your hair today! You should wear it like that more often.”

Every day they worked together, he somehow managed to say something to make her blush profusely. But the more he did it, the more (Y/n) found herself appreciating his kind words. For someone who was constantly overthinking, Jaemin’s encouragement was reassuring.

“(Y/n), try this!” He handed her a glass containing a red-colored beverage. 

Business was slow today, and only two customers were here. So Jaemin was fooling around, making random drinks.

She raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you try it?”

“I don’t like strawberries,” He said plainly.

Convinced by his excuse, (Y/n) reluctantly took a sip of the smoothie. He watched as her eyes widened with delight.

“It’s good!” She gave him a thumbs up in approval.

(Y/n) placed the beverage down and glanced over to the people sitting near the window. Her smile slowly began to fade as she watched the girl feed the guy a piece of cake. They looked at each other with so much endearment. 

“They look cute, don’t you think?” She gestured to their table. “The couple over there.”

  “Why do you sound so sad when saying that?” Jaemin asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know…I kinda wish I had what they had. But I know that could never happen to me.”

He tilted his head in confusion.“What do you mean?”

(Y/n)’s gaze shifted over to Jaemin, looking at him with slight hesitation. She bit her lip, contemplating whether to be truthful. It was Jaemin at the end of the day. He wouldn’t judge her, right?

“I’ve struggled with anxiety all of my life.” Her eyes rested on her folded hands on the counter. It sounded as if she was embarrassed by this confession. Jaemin could tell this was a hard topic for her to talk about. 

“And it stops me from doing a lot of things,” (Y/n) continued, “I’ve never been in a relationship. But if I were, I fear I’d just end up becoming a burden to that person.”

What she said next made Jaemin’s heart hurt. She turned to look at him, wearing a sad smile. “Honestly, I can’t imagine why a person would love me.”

This was probably the most real she’s ever been with someone. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was telling Jaemin all this. It felt scary, after being used to hiding this part of herself.

Jaemin went silent, pondering on what to say. She began to worry, afraid she had overshared.

“I’m sorry for telling you this—”

“A person doesn't need a reason to love, they just do,” Jaemin then said. 

He took a step closer, where the two faced each other. Their shoes almost touched. The compassion pouring from his eyes made her heart beat faster.

“You deserve to be loved, Kim (Y/n),” He spoke softly. “Even if you don’t think so.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

That moment with Jaemin kept replaying in (Y/n)’s head. She couldn’t stop thinking about his words, and it was slowly driving her insane.

“It seems like he likes you,” Hyejin said after hearing what happened.

The idea immediately caused (Y/n) to shake her head in denial. “What? No, it can’t be—”

But Hyejin cut her off. “You seriously don’t know guys, (Y/n)-ah. Giving compliments, making drinks for you, and saying sappy sweet stuff? Those are all signs that he likes you!”

Was she that oblivious? The possibility of Jaemin actually liking her never crossed her mind. This whole time, (Y/n) thought he was just being a nice senior. 

“You really think so?” (Y/n) asked, still a little unsure.

Hyejin nodded, “But the real question is, do you like him too?”

Thinking back to what her coworker said, (Y/n) recalled all the time she experienced this strange feeling whenever she was around Jaemin. He truly was a kindhearted person. She didn’t think she'd ever met a man as sincere as him.

But just as (Y/n) was slowly accepting her feelings for Jaemin, the boy’s sweet acts toward her stopped. He barely talked during shifts and kept to himself. (Y/n) started to think that maybe Hyejin was wrong. Maybe he was just playing with her.

However, (Y/n) suspected that wasn’t it when he started missing days of work. And she began to understand the saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Unable to sleep one night, (Y/n) left her apartment and dropped by the convenience store. Having a drink sounded like a good idea to get her mind off things. She didn’t expect to see the very boy occupying her thoughts, sitting outside downing a shot of soju.

“Jaemin?”

Instantly his head turned to (Y/n) who cautiously approached his table. She noticed his eyes were slightly red. Had he been crying?

“Oh (Y/n) sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He swiped his eyes, pretending as if everything was normal.

But (Y/n) wasn’t fooled by the fake smile he wore. She sat down in the empty chair beside him. He reached for the green bottle to pour another glass for himself. But she placed her hand over his, stopping him.

“Jaemin-ssi…what’s wrong?” She asked gently.

He sucked in a breath and looked down. He didn’t want to bother (Y/n) with his problems. But he had been holding so much in, that he was on the verge of exploding if he didn’t tell someone.

“My mom has stomach cancer, stage four,” Jaemin swallowed.

Her jaw dropped slightly at this. She didn’t know what to say. “Jaemin, I…I’m so sorry.”

“I’m such a bad son,” He lamented, pressing his knuckles against his temple. “I should’ve known something was wrong. I should’ve been taking more care of her.”

Seeing Jaemin look so utterly broken made (Y/n) want to take away all his pain. She could only imagine what he was going through.

“Jaemin, your mom being sick isn’t your fault. It was out of your control,” She said, squeezing his hand.

The boy shook his head. “It’s not just that though.”

He started to tell her about how throughout his childhood, his mom worked as a single parent and had a tteokbokki stand. She spent so many years, earning money to send her only son off to college. But he didn’t even last a week and instead was working a part-time job.

“Gosh, I’m so worthless!” He clenched the shot glass in his hand, as more tears spilled out of his eyes.

(Y/n) frowned and countered, “Na Jaemin, you are not worthless. So many people think you’re lovely and wonderful. Anyone who has you in their lives is lucky and loves you.”

“Do you?” He glanced up at her with teary eyes.

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, thinking about his question.

“Honestly, I was worried when you suddenly disappeared,” She quietly admitted. “I guess I got used to you always cheering me on. When I’m with you, I feel like I can be myself without judgment.”

(Y/n) gathered all the courage to meet his eyes once more. “You’ve become the most precious person in my life. So yes…I think I’m in love with you.”

Those three words that just left her mouth were frightening. But they felt that much real. Her heartbeat sped up uncontrollably, and her face was hot. She searched Jaemin’s eyes for a response, wondering if she made a mistake.

But then he leaned over to pull her into a hug, startling her. “Thank you (Y/n) For being the one person in my life that doesn’t mind my flaws.”

Touched by his words, (Y/n) slowly smiled and hugged him back. By the way, he held her tightly, she knew that her feelings were not one-sided.

“Maybe because I have a lot of flaws myself,” She murmured. 

Jaemin slightly pulled out of the hug and smiled at her brightly. He leaned over to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

“And they are perfect.”

∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘

#nct dream #nct dream imagines #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #jaemin #nana #jaemin fic #nct dream fic #nct dream fluff #barista au #kpop #nctzen #czennie #jaemin fluff #jaemin scenarios #nct dream scenarios #cafe au

[sunuism]

Cigarettes, a poem

Today I bought a pack of cigarettes for the first time With a shaking voice, I asked for a packet of Marlboro Red I know nothing about cigarettes so I had to google the name I went into the kiosk and bought a bottle of water, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter I sat behind the common building of the dormitory, hidden away from passing eyes And then I tried to light one.

I couldn't get the lighter to work There was also wind so the flame kept going out My thumbs were sore when I finally saw smoke at the end of the cigarette I sucked in the smoke And I coughed and coughed I know the smell of cigarettes well The suffocating, bitter smell of burning tobacco I sucked it into my lungs, desperate to feel something I took a puff, coughed, took a sip of water, took another puff But it didn't get better

When I was in secondary school I went for a walk with my friend She had gotten her hands on what she claimed was a joint She lit it, and smoked a little She asked if I wanted to try and I said yes But nothing happened. It was probably just an ordinary cigarette, but at that time I didn't cough. "You have to suck the smoke all the way into your lungs, and then breathe out." I did as instructed and didn't cough.

On such a March afternoon, I was sitting there My nose ran together with my eyes. The smoke was so disgusting But I was determined to get used to it I gradually became more and more dizzy It felt a bit like being drunk and not having control over my body After a few more puffs I was close to falling over The smoke rose into the air and mingled with the gray clouds in the sky I leaned back until I was lying down The whole world spun before my eyes

When I was in high school, I always saw my classmates smoking in the school yard You weren't allowed to, but everyone did it anyway Smoking was a status symbol that said "I am part of the class." No one ever offered me cigarettes I didn't care at the time, there were more important things in life, I was convinced During recess, I sat in the corner of the classroom and read a book

I coughed a little again I was nauseous I sat up again The cigarette long gone, only half burnt down I pulled a tissue out of my tote bag and blew my nose For a while I sat there and stared ahead and thught about how people can stand it Lump in the throat, stomach rumbling, head spinning I picked up my phone, which had been by my side the whole time 18:03 Friday March 31, no new notifications

A year ago I started a new education I watched as they all went out and smoked during the break If only I smoked, then I had an excuse to talk to them "Do you want to go out for a smoke?" "No thank you." They don't all smoke, but those who don't join for fun I can't bring myself to ask if I can join

The taste of smoke stuck in my throat as I trudged slowly, swaying towards my building When I got back up to my room I tried to throw up Even though my stomach was empty I laid down on the bathroom floor, lay there and gasped for air again And wondered how others do this With shaking hands I grabbed my phone that was in front of me 18:36, no new notifications And I stifled a scream

#the title makes it sound so cheesy like #2014 tumblr poetry #which is what i want to subvert #actually im such a genius who wants to publish me #anyways this poem is about loneliness ofc :3 #and its all based on a true story #like i did almsot throw up earlier toda #y #dont try to smoke for the first time at 24 it will actually almost kill you

[seeingteacupsindragons]

I'm late bc life, but I saw those book asks and immediately hoped you'd rb so I can ask you #2

So like. You know you don't need an ask list to just. Ask me questions. Right?

2. Top 5 books of all time?

Oh, Jeez. I'm really bad at picking top favorites and I have very nuanced thoughts on a lot of things, so this is hard to just go, "Favorites. Just Favorites. Generically."

Let's. See what I can do for you here.

The Night Room, probably. I read it at a Formative Age (middle school), and it really stuck with me hard. It's extremely re-readable, accessible but really nuanced and subtle in a lot of ways. Has kind of a Breakfast Club-y cast in a lot of ways, which is fun. Contemporary spec fic (although it's from the 90s, so, uh, don't expect cell phones or too much internet). There's a lot of references to things, and I just really like that in fiction personally. There's a little delight and bonus to me when I can see from a book how well-read the author is. Also it's literally dedicated to "The Crews of the Starships Enterprise." It would be a fun book to mark up for a lit class, I think.

The Goblin Emperor. This one was the runner up for the Hugo the year The Three Body Problem won. I'm a big fan of Sarah Monette/Katherine Addison's writing. She has a doctorate in the English and is very well versed in the Classics ad Renaissance Drama and holy crap can you tell. It's not that she references these things when she's writing, but the nuanced way characters talk and the way the worlds she writes are builds are just so very rich and dense and full of life. I was first introduced to her via the Doctrine of Labyrinths books, which are...extremely, extremely dark, but the character voice shifts make me so so so envious God I wish I could write like that oh My God. The Goblin Emperor, however, is slightly lighter and much more hopeful fare, which is much more my style. It's still dense and rich, but is slightly less about trauma and more about the difficulties of governance.

A Friend for Dragon. This is a picture book. I don't care. It's fucking great. It's about friendship and loneliness and grief.

The Case Files of Jeweler Richard. Look, I like my books as "Applied Queer Theory following two soft, snarky dumbasses." It's great, okay? There's flaws, sure, but it hits me deep in my heart and soul.

Ah, hell. This has gotten very hard. I want to list a go-to Comfort Read, but I don't think I have one. I don't re-read much anymore (I did a lot when I was a kid, just because I didn't have all access to as many books as how fast I read). Also half my books are in boxes right now so I can't just glance at my bookcases. I keep thinking of a lot of books I really liked once upon a time but had an emotional breakup with. And then hemming over, "I thought this book was great, but is it favorite?" But after scrolling through Story Graph for sometime, I think I'll pick Trick of the Light for this one. I really enjoyed Rob Thurman until she vanished into the ether, and while I certainly have some over all criticisms of her writing, I always enjoyed reading it anyway. And Trick of the Light, I don't know, appealed to me in a way some of her other series didn't. Maybe it was Zeke and Griffin (it was almost certainly Zeke and Griffin).

#books #reading #bookblr

[follyglass]

Follyglass : Midnight

The witches at Guilford University thought I was one of them. After all, they said I had been the clear delineation between what was a social club with a garden-clippings-stuffed-cauldron and what became true magic.

Before, they had the books and intention, and some like my roommate George Cabot even claimed lineage. But they had never really considered midnight. Who does? Like, real, true midnight, not the time on everyone’s clock.

It was all kind of an accident, to be honest. I had noticed George was stuffing candles into his pack for a hike up Whetstone, and when I asked what he was up to he said that they were doing a spell at midnight. So, I offhandedly asked “which one? which midnight?” Because when you think about it, there’s a whole stretch of the globe that shares the exact same time and that can’t be right if you’re trying to be precise; it can’t possibly be true midnight in Guilford, Maine and New York city at the same time. You’re either at the fine line that is solar midnight or you’re not.

George narrowed his eyes at me and said “Is there a way to figure it? The exact time?”

In only a few minutes, I had two things: solar midnight time for Whetstone hill, and an invitation to join the Guilford witches that evening.

In the dark and silence of the hilltop, I told them when to start. While I sat on a cold rock with my feet tucked up under to keep warm, they danced and sang. They brewed and lit and eventually quieted in doubt whether it had worked. Nobody would know until the morning. So I followed them as they shrugged on down the hill, cautiously eager to see if it worked.

It did. All of the books in the library had become filled with the truths of Guilford University’s founders. Everyone knew now. And I guess it was then that I became part of the coven. Not that I gathered the yarrow or pretty latin or had to wear a diaphonous dress (I did, though, many times, simply because I liked it, but that’s beside the point). I was the midnight teller. “One of our most important witches,” George said.

Our next magics involved turning bourbon to water, and rearranging the paths of Guilford University to make it easier for some to get to their classes on time. After about a dozen spells, there was as much bickering as there was dried sage, and it was all over what direction the Guilford coven’s magic should take.

There were so many possibilities.

The coven divided.

Both sides wanted me.

Two days ago, half of the coven asked me to accompany them for a secret spell not to be revealed to the other half. The missing half. George told me not to tell them, “It’s a surprise, Ellis,” he said with a flinty glint in his eye. Witches are sometimes odd, and I didn’t think much of it, but he was my roommate.

I had accidentally seen the notes on George’s desk. The secret spell.

I had shown my watch to him, and he grinned when it read only three minutes to midnight.

I didn’t tell him that I my watch was off by one minute. The spell was exceedingly petty and a titch cruel, and so I saw no reason to support George’s ambitions. If this magic didn’t work, I was ready to blame the yarrow or the latin or the eggshells, and others would probably join me.

Most importantly, the other half of the coven would be ok.

I thought that the difference between a coven and a social club was precise midnight, and I was partly right. I didn’t think anything would happen when the spell was off by a minute, when the world was a shade askew. Please believe me when I say that what happened was unintentional, but now you know why I have seven chickadees in my room. I do my best to care for them. The biggest one’s name is George.

He chirps at me at midnight.

#flash fiction #follyglass #witchcraft #writeblr #maine #new england #midnight #dark acamedia

[greatwyrmgold]

A while back, I read this thread about media analysis and media literacy and education and Sailor Moon and all sorts of stuff. And I have my own thoughts, but I didn't want to attach them to that thread.

My thoughts focus specifically on why people get those bad attitudes about media analysis, and why high school literature classes so often fail to teach anything. I'm going to bring up two moments which stand out from my own high school lit classes—one epiphany from a world lit class I took in junior year, and one paper I was assigned for my sophomore American lit class.

When reading Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment, our teacher brought up the Nietzche's philosophical concept of the Übermensch, which was roughly contemporaneous to Dostoevsky. It was pointed out that Raskolnikov and Svidrigailov were both clear takes on that concept, on the idea of people who could create their own value systems within the moral vacuum that is nihilism. Both Raskolnikov and Svidtrgailov tried to be übermenschen, both used this to justify heinous actions, both were overcome by guilt that even self-proclaimed moral superman cannot resist. For the first time, I saw themes in the text itself, rather than feeling like I had to make the text fit the themes.

Speaking of which, that fucking East of Eden paper, herein abbreviated as "that FEEP". I had to write fifteen pages about East of Eden, about one of a list of themes our teacher handed out to the class. And if that wasn't bad enough, just talking about how the shit Steinbeck wrote about that theme wasn't enough; we had to cite a bunch of literary scholars who talked about what Steinbeck meant by the things he wrote. And some of those scholars were absolute dumbasses; I vividly remember reading one who criticized Steinbeck for saying there were things he hadn't been able to learn about Cathy, even though he invented her...almost as if he had framed his narrative using some kind of device?

Fifteen pages of citing goobers like that to prove that East of Eden is about something our teacher told us it was about. Insufferable. I swore never to touch anything Steinbeck wrote out of pure spite at that FEEP—not at the book, at the paper I had to write about the book.

Aside from my lingering teenaged resentment at a really bad assignment, that FEEP is a perfect crystalization of everything wrong with how our education system (or at least my school district's system) teaches literature. There has to be a right and a wrong answer that you can be graded on; understanding why or how a novel says X is less important than parroting that the novel says X. There's no room for independent interpretations of the text, let alone criticisms of how well this Classic Work Of Literature achieved its goals. A lot of the time, it feels like themes are just thing that literary snobs say are in the text, independent of the text itself.

That FEEP made this worse by focusing so much on citing literary snobs who act like they've never heard of a fucking framing device, but it's embedded into the structure of literature classes. What is East of Eden about? A, B, C, or D? Oops, that's not what the answer key says.

@gotgifsandmusings did more to teach me about what themes are and how they work than any of my English classes, despite that one Crime and Punishment epiphany. For the people in back: A couple of people bitching about Game of Thrones's adaptation (particularly the Sexism & Season 5 series) did more to help me understand literature than twelve years of literature classes. Maybe this kind of thing is easier to explain from a bad example than a good example, or if you have a good example to contrast against a bad example, but it still should not be that hard to compress the essence of nine Tumblr posts into multiple years of classes.

It feels like the literature classes I took in middle/high school were less about helping us understand themes and media analysis and stuff, and more about making sure we learned the True Meaning of Classic Works of Literature. That's the only way I can make sense of that FEEP requiring us to cite scholars who also knew the True Meaning of East of Eden. It's not teaching us how to interpret the themes of a story, it's teaching us what other people said FEE is about.

#essay #media analysis #themes #education #fucking east of eden #fucking Cathy Ames #I'm sure there are parts of my tenth-grade lit class I liked but that FEEP has eclipsed them all