#and deans just like. idk there’s something about his face. like he wants to agree cause this is what he’s always saying but he Cant.

[sammygender]

thinking about how one of the last things john ever tells dean is an admittance that the way he treated him was fucked. & of course this destroys dean and makes it so much harder for him to come to terms w his death right after and with his childhood in general bc he’s spent his entire life chasing after johns approval. he’s spent his entire life telling himself that the way he was treated was okay and justified and that their childhood was good because he could handle it and he was strong enough and that was how it had to be. he’s worshipped john as a hero and seen nothing wrong with any of it. because he’s had to. his entire life is built around this idea there’s nothing else. he’s his dads perfect soldier and punching bag and wife-replacement and suddenly his dads gone & he said he’s sorry and that he shouldn’t have treated dean that way. what the hell is he supposed to do now.

#augh. i don’t know i haven’t seen enough of this show yet but. #thinking about that episode with the abused kid who has psychic powers like sams and sam sees himslef in the kid a lot #but is horrified by the extent of the abuse and keeps saying like. Dean i never thought i’d say this but you’re right dad was pretty good i #guess we were really lucky to have him. it could’ve turned out a very different way. #and deans just like. idk there’s something about his face. like he wants to agree cause this is what he’s always saying but he Cant. #because. well. sams thinking about this kid with circumstances so similar to him who ended up entirely victimised by his father and #thinking Wow i had something that kid didn’t. i had MY dad who was so much better after all (despite kicking me out of the house and #always refusing to support me but wtv) #but really the thing sam had was DEAN. #dean as sam’s protector and john’s golden child and the adult of the family. dean as the person #john winchester comes home to after a hunt the person who tells him it’s okay #dean playing the part of his dead mom and still shielding sammy from the worst of their father and as a result internalising that this was #fine. #what the hell is he going to do now that his fathers dead? after his fathers dead and wrong and theoretically morally weak and admitted hed #raised dean badly? #IDK!!! i’m sure excited to see him continue to break down though #(have just finished s2e2 for future me ref) #supernatural #<- Sorry guys i’m batshit obsessed. #father by the front bottoms dean song of all time #spn #oliver talks

[franklespine]

One of my favourite and most devastating moments in supernatural is the scene in s03e07 Fresh Blood:

There is just something so deeply devastating about it that struck me harder than a lot of other emotional moments in this show. For all of Sam's badgering for Dean to drop the tough guy act in not giving a crap if he goes to hell - this is what does it. Sam's confession of following around his big brother Dean for as long as he can remember, trying to be just like him in true little sibling fashion, and so knows him better than anyone else. And Dean is left speechless for a moment because I think he had never once considered himself as something someone else would aspire to be. So much of his life as a kid and young adult was spent trying to impress his father, trying to prove himself and somehow just falling short of the mark every time, that I don't think he realised that to Sam, Dean was his heroic protector that he relied on and put his faith in, not their father.

Sam begging him to let go of the tough soldier role that their father put him in because he can see how much more tortured Dean is because of it right now. Sam begging him to let go of this role and be his brother - because their time to be just brothers could be running out and that's what Sam wants more than anything else. The inevitable loss of Dean as the reason why he should just drop the act and be his brother looms over Sam as, tears in his eyes, he tries desperately to explain why they both need this. And in the end its something he can't even articulate. But Dean seems to understand him anyway and agrees to give up his 'kamikazi' mission (as Sam calls it) of the episode and to just stay inside and protect themselves.

Idk, maybe it's because I'm an older sibling, but if my younger sister ever said something like this to be - I would be destroyed. And this is exactly how younger siblings are growing up too, like I remember my little sister always ordering the same things at cafe's as me, dressing like me, wanting to hang out with my friends and do the same things I did. Of course it annoyed the hell out of me when I was younger, but I also was not made into some kind of child soldier against creatures of the night and come face to face with the horrors to protect my younger sibling's innocence every day, unknowingly feeding into their intense need to belong in this messed up whacko dysfunctional dynamic set up by my father where both me and my younger sibling lose no matter what we do. So what do you know.

But all in all, I love this scene. I think it's one of the first time we really get to hear how Sam sees and cares about Dean as his brother. I mean we see it in many other scenes in his actions and his expressions but this is him truly baring his soul, asking Dean to do the same.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #s3 #spn s03e07 #me when sibling dynamics #sorry families in media always get me #be it found family or otherwise it will always get me

[0-r-a-y-0]

Hair Play— Romantic #12

In which: Nick admires Jasper as he does his hair and plays with it later

Idk if I made it obvious but Jasper has curly hair!!!

Also I can’t tell if I like this or not but this was the most voted for my next oneshot (it was a tie between this and another one) and I’ve been planning on posting again.

It was late at night with both boys hauled in Nick’s bathroom. The house was silent aside from music playing in the bedroom and the boys’ talking.

“I don’t understand why you need like three different products if they all do the same.” Nick said.

“You don’t understand because you got straight hair.” Jasper laughed, taking his hairbrush and running it through his wet hair. “They all do different things. Like this one defines the curls, a little bit of oil is good for your hair, you should use it too, and this keeps my hair from being frizzy and it makes my hair smell good.”

“What happens if you don’t use any of it?” Nick wondered.

“Then I’d kill myself.” He stated.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t joke like that.” The redhead said.

“Who says I’m joking?”

“Jasper.” Nick says sternly.

“You’re right.” He replies, turning to face him. “I’m sorry.” Jasper kisses Nick and he kisses back gently. “Okay, but I have to do my hair like now or it’ll look horrible.” He claimed, pulling away.

“So, what do you do first?” He asked.

“Well, besides brushing my hair and getting all the tangles out, I use this product first. So, I just put some on my hand, rub it then just run it through.” Jasper demonstrates.

“That’s a lot of product…” Nick commented, trailing off.

“You have to use a lot or else it won’t do anything.” He confirmed, taking the teal bottle and taking the cap off before pumping a few squirts of product into his hand. “I use this on next, I put it mostly in my fingers so if gets my curls more individually. It’ll make my hair curl better.”

“Does your hair just naturally curl or do you need to take some strands and curl it with your fingers?” Nick questioned.

“It naturally curls, obviously, but the products just make it look better. And sometimes if my hair won’t curl like I want it to, I just take my two pointer fingers and curl it.” Jasper explained, taking a piece and rolling the strand up between his fingers, he holds it for a moment before carefully sliding his fingers out of his hair. “Then wala, look at that.”

“When do you use the oil?” He quizzed.

“So curious.” Jasper teased. “I use it after a scrunch my hair or use my diffuser.” He answers, taking both his hands and scrunch the hair in his hands. “If it makes that sound then you know it’s good.” He adds.

After he scrunches his hair enough, he takes the oil and puts some on his hands. With his hair mostly dry, he runs it through his scalp. “You want to make sure your hair is mostly dry though.”

He takes more of the oil and puts some in Nick’s hair, ruffling his hair afterwards. “That’s so much work.” Nick claimed.

“Tell me about it.” Jasper sarcastically rolled his eyes. “Let’s go lay down now, and watch a movie or something?” He suggested.

“Yeah, maybe we can watch Rudolph?” The redhead requested with a smirk.

“You just want to watch it so you can thirst over his dad.” Jasper giggled.

“Whaaaat? Never…” Nick said. Jasper raised a brow at him, crossing his arms as he sat in the bed. “Okay, fine. But not my fault he’s fine as fuck. And besides, it’s almost Christmas!”

“I’m still not over Halloween.” The curly haired boy stated. “We can watch a Christmas movie after if we watch “My Bloody Valentine” first.”

“Why do you keep mentioning that movie?” Nick wondered.

“Because Jensen Ackles is in it and I love Jensen Ackles and he’s hot as fuckkkk!” Jasper exclaimed.

“Who’s Jensen Ackles?” The other asked.

“He plays Dean in Supernatural.” He responded as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Ohhhh yeah, we still gotta watch that.” Nick muttered.

“No, you and your brothers gotta watch it, I have to rewatch it.” Jasper said.

“Okay, fine. We can watch that movie. But we have to watch Rudolph after.” The redhead agreed.

They get the movie on and get comfortable on the bed. Jasper lays his head on Nick’s lap and the movie begins. He feels Nick’s fingers tangle around his slightly damp curls. He hums in satisfaction, relaxing as he kept his eyes on the tv.

“You’re so pretty.” Nick says.

“Thanks.” Jasper smiled.

“Your hair is gorgeous. I love it so much.”

“You don’t have to go on this whole banter of compliments now.” He grinned, chuckling.

“I won’t, I won’t. I just want to tell you that I love your hair.” Nick claimed, twisting strands of his hair around his fingers.

“I love it when you play with my hair.” Jasper said.

“Good, cause I’m never gonna stop.” He replied, only continuing his movements.

“Okay shush now, I wanna watch this.” The tan skinned boy scolded.

Throughout the movie, Nick ran his fingers in his hair or around Jasper’s body. Until he just stopped, but he was too sucked into the movie to notice. Nick’s fingers still laid tangled in his curls as he laid on his lap. And by the time the movie was over, Nick was asleep.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader

[inkedmyths]

S2: E3 "Bloodlust"

Brought to you by I PROMISED Kayla yesterday I would watch more when I finished my essay so here I am

This episode featuring: Yet another member of the hunting community, veganism in a fashion, deep discussion on Dean and cowboys, and great fuckin music

Oh whats this song I think I know it

Is that Journey

Is that. Wheel in the Sky?

IT IS FUCK YEAAAA

Jammin I fuckin love this song. Great start

Oh look a scared woman in the woods. Seems standard

Is that the Benadryl Hat Man

Crepe: The What Kayla: probably

Why are you moving around the tree like that

OFF WITH HER HEAD!

OHHHH YEAH FUCK YEAH I LOVE THE SOUNDTRACK ON THIS EP! BACK IN BLACK AC/DC!!

[ Kayla reiterates that the SPN soundtrack is good. I like 70's ans 80's rock so I agree so far. ]

Dean: Woo car! Decapitated heads! Helllll yea!

Kayla: man's two true loves

Lmaoooo

I love them being terrible fake journalists

The cop: SATANISTS? LMAOOOO

Crepe: Everyone loves a Satanist Kayla: title of a black sabbath song Crepe: Really? Kayla: no just a joke Crepe: Oh

Wooo funky impersonations we're goin fast this episode

"Open it" "You open it" Lmaoooo

EWWW TOOTH? FANG???

VAMPIRE??

Whats goin on heeeere are the cowboy vampires back

[ Crepe replies saying it's worse, but at least has the kindness to spoiler hide the rest of the message. It just hid the word Vegan though. ]

[ Then Melon pops in, stating the time in his zone and expressing a worry for my sleep schedule. I told her it's fine, and that I actually am the furthest behind in terms of timezones amongst the group, as it was only a quarter til 9 pm at the time of that message. Not that xey shouldn't worry about my sleep schedule, because it is horrendous, but that's besides the point. ]

"So we're lookin for some people" "Sure it's hard to be lonely"

Ok so that guys gone. Watching them for sure

Yep

They're waiting for him?

Whshshs ok ok whats he want anyways

[ It is about this point where Melon, Crepe, and Kayla digress into some conversation regarding cowboys, vampires, and the resulting combination being a dilemma for Dean and his sexuality. Fascinating stuff, but I wasn't really paying attention as I was engrossed in whatever the Winchesters were doing onscreen. I will, however, transcribe it as well, because I think it's funnier that way. ]

Melon: Do you think cowboy vampires act as a paradox for deans concept of reality. One is something he desperately craves to be, and the other he hates some of the time. It’s like, the taping a piece of toast with jam to a shoe and throwing it. Which overrides the other? Crepe: That would be a very interesting take to explore Kayla: one of them is a kink and the other is vampiress

OHHH yeah hes a hunter?

Ok. Ok he's a little. Seems neat but. Idk. Brushes them off pretty fast. Hm.

Sure of himself? Or something else?

Ok garage guy. You gonna get murked orrrr

Crepe: Why is Dean into cowboys tho? Kayla: have you seen him interact with one heterosexually ever

What are you even looking for

Oh its a bird

Melon: But if faced with something you’re technically supposed to kill but is literally every kink you could ever want besides that one thing, what would dean do Kayla: fuck and kill probably. thats how they seem to usually operate Melon: Ok yeah you’re right Crepe: Monsterfucker and Monsterhunter

OOHHG FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

Why is a vampire working a garage

[ Kayla says its a capitalist hellscape, even vampires need the money. Which. Fair. Gotta pay for those replacement clothes when you get blood on them I guess. ]

AAAAAAAA

Oh hey theres the Winchesters

Ewwwww chainsaw blood spatter. Kinda a look for Dean tho

[ Kayla and Melon both agree with this statement. ]

Sam whats up with that look. Problem that your brother chainsawed a vampire's head off

Melon: Dean at peak is covered in blood, holding a shotgun chainsaw, and in full cowboy outfit Kayla: sharknado 6 Melon: I mean we were all thinking it Crepe: I wasn't

Cmon Sam. Its about the murder and blood spatters. Get down with it

Kayla: sharknado but everything is the same except dean is fin Melon: That really changes nothing besides that the wife would be a dude instead Kayla: cas Melon: That’s what I said

[ They then discuss something about Cas that I apparently won't understand for like 8 and a half more seasons. C'mon guys, I haven't even met the guy yet. ]

What is going on over drinks here

Oh. So a vampire killed this guy's sister. :(

Right makes sense as hunter backstory

Dean finally admitting somethin abt how he feels abt their dad passing. And its to some guy they JUST MET INSTEAD OF HIS BROTHER

[ Melon says it's because it's easier to admit to a stranger than someone you know. Kayla adds that he has to be strong for Sam. Ah, yes, the constipated older brother syndrome. I get it. ]

I don't think this hunter guy is handling his emotions well gonna say

Gordon Walker? That's his name? K

Oh ok so this guy's just fuckin nuts. Got it.

[ They now discuss telling strangers about trauma with no warning. They come to the conclusion that this is just Tumblr. ]

"Yknow what I love about this life? It's all black and white." Hmmmmmmmm

Yeah this guy's more than a bit off his rocker and you both should leave!

Uh oh Sammy

Why does Sam keep getting stalked and/or jumped by shit huh

Don't breathe a sufg of relief you idiot

[ I meant to type "sigh", not whatever happened there. Add that to the list of Ink typos. ]

Oh look! Vampire! Of course

??

VEGAN VAMPIRES?

[ Crepe goes on a tangent about said Vegan Vampires, of which I follow maybe half of. ]

Ohhhh cattle blood. Funky

Vegan Vampires just living their lives I guess. Good for them! Unfortunately Sam and Gordon won't listen to him probably

Dean is too murder happy and Sam is not quite murder happy enough and they yell at each other about it

[ Apparently, they say, this is the plot of season 10. What the hell does that mean. ]

HE STOLE THE CAR!! THEY HAVE TO HOTWIRE THEIR OWN CAR!!!

*keys not the car

Somethin about this chick's delivery. Weird. Not like in a suspicious way just in a What is this Acting way

Sam and his sad, sad eyebrow scrunch

Eww stabby

Gordon u got issues homie

Weird fuckin guy. Weeeird fuckin guy.

Shes trying her best leave her alone

Hunter fight! Hunter fight! Get his ass Dean!

WHSHSHSH screaming. Dean telling Sam to punch him. Bc he was a dick.

[ Kayla and Crepe both say they're going to bed, not even waiting 3 minutes for me to finish the episode. Rude. ]

DEAN ADMITTED THEIR DAD WASN'T PERFECT!!! HOLY SHIT!!!

Man now they have to deal with more Moral Quandries. Have fun with that boys!

And away they go. Into the sunrise.

---

I cannot emphasize enough how much I was not paying attention to whatever the hell my friends were talking about in the moment. Absolutely wild to go back and read all that. What the fuck are they on about

Anyways. Vegan Vampires I guess! That's a thing! Wild.

#on the highway to superhell #supernatural #spn #i hope you guys enjoy the comedy of whatever the hell my friends are talking about #continuing to mess with formatting as i go #i hope to get in at least one more ep tomorrow

[casgod]

My take on the destiel confession scene, it's gonna be long, you've been warned.

So, everyone praises misha for his performance and also cas' declaration. I do agree misha did the best he could and did a good job on his part, however I have to admit, I don't like that scene at all.

First of all, the cinematography is orrible, I'm sorry, all those cuts and shit (I'm not an expert by any means so this is just my personal opinion). We've been fed iconic destiel eye-effing and too long stares for 12 years and during a freaking love confession we get zero of that and an awkward back and forth between dean and cas..... why??? Also I'm having a problem with the part where cas pushes dean out of the way, maybe I'm the stupid one but it seems very off, like cas pushes him to the right but he falls to the left?? Idk this might be me being dumb.

Also, I hated the bangs on the door interrupting the moment, we know Billie is after them, you don't need to remind us.

Let's now talk about the actual content.

So, I don't like at all the way cas explains the empty deal to dean, it seems unprompted and an awkward "previously on". Imo it is also a bit out of character, since we know cas acts without really caring to explain to others what his plans are, as long as he believes he's doing the right thing. So why confess the empty deal? I believe they just put it there for the audience, knowing many might be watching the last episodes of the show without having watched it consistently. And I get it, but I personally believe it was badly executed.

Moreover, I believe it would have been more in character and even more heartbreaking if cas just confessed without mentioning the deal. At that point, dean would have believed cas was just saying his last words since both of them would be dead soon. That way we could have had the same wordless reaction by dean, but for different reasons, focusing on cas' love confession rather than the deal.

Also, they could have cut the "happiness is just in being it .. just in saying it" bcs honestly thats bullshit and everyone knows that. They needed to find a way to justify making the confession the least gay possible. Like I don't get why they tried to explain what's going on, just let him confess and once he's taken we can figure out ourselves what happened!!

I personally believe it should've gone a bit like this: confession part all the same (no mentioning of the deal), still "why does this sound like a goodbye" "because it is" bcs dean understands something's going on BUT doesn't know what it is (also still teary dean because I liked that part)! Then cas says "i love you" and reaches for dean's face/hand and in that moment billie enters and he instead pushes dean away (we keep the beloved handprint) and he's taken by the empty, with Billie. That would have been a real plot twist! Bcs we didn't know it was coming from the start (which we did in the actual scene).

They didn't even have to make them touch romantically but at least the intention from cas should have been there imo. Idk I'm not a writer so there are probably so many better ways to rewrite the scene, but you get my point I hope.

Lastly, without mentioning the deal during the confession, dean would've been forced to talk about it later with the others to figure out what happened. Then Jack could've explained the deal, and Dean would have been hit with the realisation that the "I love you" was cas' true moment of happiness (imagine the doubled shock value!). That way, we would've had an actual conversation about cas after his death (which we deserved) without it being dean having to open up about the "love" part, but making it as trying to figure out why the empty took cas.

After that realisation, we could've had dean shut down and never mention it again (and the crying scene again bcs why not), but at least it wouldve been somewhat justified! Bcs let's be real, the reason we got little to no mention of cas after 15x18 is because they didn't want to confront dean's feelings for cas (didn't want to deny or confirm reciprocity, also the reason I believed they killed dean off in the end).

Anyways, if you actually read my whole rant, thank you! I would love to hear other opinions about it/ how the confession should have gone according to you.

#destiel #spn #supernatural #castiel #deancas #dean winchester #cas #spn finale #spn 15x18 #15x18 #15x18 despair #supernatural 15x18 #dean x castiel #cas and dean #dean #dean and cas #deanxcas #cas x dean #casdean #castiel winchester

[castielmacleod]

I was reading that post about the 12x23 Crowley conundrum and. It’s not that I necessarily disagree with the actor man on his own character but……. lol I kind of do actually. I feel a bit insane over how he doesn’t seem aware of how. Soft? He actually played Crowley sometimes. I mean Crowley definitely likes winning, but idk you can’t convince me that it’s ALL he cared about, especially toward the end. And I think that the growth of the character from just wanting to win, along with the instances where he actually does care about other things are actually very important?

Like I actually do genuinely believe he cared about Rowena. Not on a personal level, maybe, but on a deep traumatised level where he is still desperate for her affection and approval despite everything. I do think that he felt so incredibly, painfully lonely and unloved that he formed a genuine romantic attachment to Dean that haunted him right up to his suicide. I don’t think he ever actually hated Cas at any point, and past season 8 he is actually an surprisingly reliable ally to Cas whenever Cas needs his help. And I truly believe that Crowley actually did on some level want to better himself, to be different. In 10x23 he says he thought that by doing better and making changes to himself then maybe he’d feel something again. He doses himself with human blood throughout season 9, also presumably to feel something—feel things more deeply, at least, than he’s able to as a demon. And of course 8x23 is where we learn that underpinning all of Crowley’s actions is actually an overwhelming desire to be loved. It’s actually kind of notable that it ISN’T the desire to win that comes up in that scene, because he could have had the same break down, cried about how he deserves to win, he just wants to win. It still would have been kind of sad, at least to me. But instead that scene was about love and it instantly added so much more dimension to him. And I think “ultimately just wants to be loved” is a way more deep and compelling thesis for Crowley than “literally does not care and only wants to win” could ever be.

Mark seems to have a very divided view of where Fergus ends and Crowley begins, and in some ways I agree—Fergus is not Crowley. But I think Crowley is Fergus. To me Crowley is, when it comes down to it, still the 8 year old boy who was abandoned by his mother all those centuries ago. You can literally see that little boy on his face when Rowena is talking to him sometimes. That’s why it’s like… even if Crowley thinks he doesn’t care about Rowena, even if he tries to compartmentalise her as Fergus’ mother, not his—he very much actually does care. Visibly. It’s weird to me that of all the people to not really recognise that, it’s the guy actually standing in front of the camera making it so that Crowley visibly cares. Not just about Rowena, but about Cas, and Dean. All people he can’t get over.

And I mean Crowley’s plotlines definitely started getting worse in his last few seasons. By which I mean just fucking awful and unbelievably stupid. They really did strip him completely of his cleverness and charisma and temper and it is a brutal defanging honestly. It’s hard to believe smug permasmile unblinking sits-in-chairs-backwards blatantly gay “under a frigging spotlight” clean-shaven Crowley is even the same physical person as later seasons Crowley and I don’t mean that in a “wow character development” way but in a “oh they literally just stopped writing him” way. And like I’m a very melancholy person so I actually don’t even hate the whole depressive spiral Crowley ends up in, it breaks my heart in just the right way and it’s part of the reason I am so especially attached to Crowley as it is (like I always loved him but as soon as they started making me THAT fucking sad about him. Whew.) I think his depression is something that could have been meaningful to his character development and actually done well if 1. it hadn’t come at the cost of at LEAST his smarts (and I know very well how depression can wipe the floor with you and hollow you out into a shell of your former self, but they literally could have at least let him keep his bloody wits about him if nothing else) and 2. it had actually been acknowledged by the show that yes, he is depressed, and 3. it had led into a real proper resolution to the redemption arc they literally put him on instead of letting it putter out into nothing by making the Winchesters continuously refuse to give him the time of day despite everything he kept doing and giving up for them. If the writers had kept ACTUALLY writing him then the depression would have felt purposeful and not this anticlimatic wasting away until Crowley just kills himself.

(Furthermore not a single one of his interactions with Lucifer should have happened and I mean not a SINGLE one. Just throw all of that out. At a minimum though if Lucifer were to end up in Crowley’s captivity then he would have hacked the bloody hell out of him like he did to Samandriel and Gadreel and that’s that.)

And…. please forgive me for saying this but I actually. God I’m sorry. I actually agree with removing the “even when I lose I win” line in the canon context of Crowley’s death. If Crowley had been better written in s12 I would have no issues but I cannot stress enough that there was literally no winning for him at any point in that season, and ESPECIALLY in his death. I very strongly read his suicide as due to him being miserable and repeatedly rejected by the people he cares about and I think that spell was a convenient excuse for him to get it over with. If that’s just my take then okay, but that is really how it comes off to me. And I mean the spell doesn’t even work right away—Lucifer still has time to come out through the portal and murder Cas before Mary pushes him back in but he literally could have escaped! (And later does escape, when the Winchesters reopen🫣 the portal 🫣🫣🫣 to rescue Mary). And ultimately it all makes Crowley’s entire sacrifice kind of pointless. I’m sorry to say that when he lost he lost. And I will never not be bitter about it

#Crowley spn #Tw suicide mention #My posts #This is not like a well composed essay or anything just Thoughts

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 09x15 #thinman

“Duck face” “Is that a Chihuahua on her shirt?” Probably back when the Taco Bell dog was popular

“Oh I forgot about that” “You’re going to fkn die” “Ope. We’re calling 911 now.” “Close the one side but not the other!” “just stay on the line; it’ll be fine. The cops will save you” “to protect and to serve…donuts” “what a bitchy thing to say” “might want to get those rear bushings looked at” “Is this some Ghostfacers shit?” pounding his fist in the air

“Son of a bitch. Such a dean thing to say” “what’s the dickens?” it’s a saying “I know” “Who the fuck names their kid Tray? One of my cousins named their kid Tray” “Are they dead?” They didn’t just hire them back for the episode

“Oh” laughter

“The web design is hilariously Hollywood” “Is there a specific band of EMF they’re looking for? They mention power lines but wifi is still a thing. Bluetooth and fkn cell phones. Goddamn everything has a radio in it, even my cock has a SIM card installed” “What is this fkn carving? He’s got like a jock strap. Is this Paul Bunyan and Babe the blue ox?” “Need to talk to his tailor. Those pants fit real good” “Why do people like to stalk other people that they don’t like on the internet? It’s just dumb and complicated. Just get over it” “See! He agrees with me!!” “Are the bereaved parents home for this? They’re just making a film about how the girl died in the closet. Idk if the family would be ok with it” “It’s probably just your pits bro” “That’s just creepy” “pussy” “What do you think about that backsplash?” “All you gotta do is take a pano shot on an iPhone and you’ve got thinman” “Talking about a case here. Why are we mixing that with whatever” “I believe this is our Mr. Tray again” “At least he drives a wagon. Brings him up a few notches” “autistic boy’s goldfish? Or the goldfish is autistic? I think it’s the boy’s goldfish” “Are they leaving because they’re scared or something?” “really?” “The woods is where trees hang out” “Wouldn’t you blind yourself in oncoming traffic?” “I was going to say the same thing - good times man” “so the park bench is deep in the woods?” “oopsie” “Is he trying to say that they’re the guys without the cream filling?” “Pile shapes. That’s good” “Might want to charge that camera battery too” “How can you say it’s not real when he just got stabbed by it?” “Did he staple his gut together?” “some space bitch” “It went” “the fuck?” “Do they not have enough money to put a roof on this set?” “Just fkn swallows every time Sam is trying to be serious” “Is that a Jaegermeister fridge thing?” “My parents let me have a blimp in my room when I was a kid. I’d fill it up and hang it off the ceiling. Wanna know what it said? Jaegermeister” “Doesn’t even have a bolt. You didn’t need to pick it in the first place” “huh” “what the fuck is that?” “what the fuck” “That’s not adhered very well” “Good reason to have a beard. Can’t tape your mouth down properly” “really?” “that whole meme thing did not age” “Thanks Dean. Oh never mind” “sound design is good” “that hollow reverb like they’re outside near a bunch of metal things. Old shipping yard or something. It’s nice” “Kinda fucked your friend over there bud” “He doesn’t look too happy” “Isn’t the show usually over by now?” “Why would you be in a rocking chair when you’re old with your old college roommate?”

#beautifulspouserewatchesspn #supernatural rewatch #supernatural #supernatural s9

[glitter-dean-rights]

So, what do ya reckon Orville's SPNsona is(/spn kin)..?

part2: "like who from spn he kins? maybe he's self-inserting into the fic.., does that make sense? Im so serious about this, btw, love ur desktop theme <3"

OKAY FIRST OF ALL this is so far up my alley i cant even begin to process it!!! also hiiiiii thank you this is very sweet i keep fucking up the colors and it needs some emotional support but tyyyyyy <33

i hope ur ready for me to take this SO seriously !!!

i think the question is fair but orville peck like kinda isnt a person? hes the concept of a person like he doesnt exist like he ~does~ and you can figure out stuff from his songs but like also what is he doing what does he want ya know hes kinda like a straw man of audience projections which is ALSO what dean is basically

like they both sorta exist as vessels (lol) for people to like understand or interpret their art where like orville is very much like all about mystery man focus on the emotions and the music and dean is much more like the lens of the story of supernatural like everything (esp in later seasons) is like filtered through how HE feels (a lot of people have said this a lot better than i but they are correct and i am agreeing) so i think there's an obvious parallel there. Also dean would be so horny for cowboy orville sorry not related but its simply true

ok so like i guess the question becomes kinda like two parts for me like 1: what songs lyrics make me go bananasinsanecrazy when applied to supernatural and 2: which aspects of orvilles fake person outlines would different characters of supernatural apply themselves to WHICH is a very fun question to answer so hi gonna answer them both in a way that makes no sense

i think like the like obvious is like hes hot he gets kicked out of bars hes sad he wants to have a home he misses a home that doesnt exist nobody ever sees his real face he knows his way around a truck stop hes lonely hes gay he believes in the imagery of taillights in the distance and like slow dancing in a dusty bar on the side of the road he just wants someone to stay hes full of emotion but you cant tell he wants to be a cowboy he wants to not be attached hes so full of emotion hes gonna burst (also im sorry but "buddy we've got major blues/another suitcase in your hand" like hello "wouldnt it be nice if i could sleep in my own bed/wouldnt it be nice if i could let the dead stay dead/wouldnt it be swell if i could get things off my chest" HELLO sorry im adding question 1 into my answer also if u think too hard about fancy u might get a brain anneurism so dont do that i know its a cover miss reba really did something with that also winds change dead of night god dont even get me started sorry i keep adding to this but listen to blush sometime and think dean thoughts "fishermans son my dad liked to run/cant picture ur face but i know it was pretty" theres SO MANY) very deancoded it must be said

BUT ALSO if u think too hard about castiel and drive me crazy u will get brain worms confirmed also kalahari down "on your daddys farm/you say your afraid, tell me not to frown" unwell BUT THE KICKER if you ever want to lose all ur braincells listen up buddy lets go heres the thing "back on the run/back to the blue/winning is fun/losing is too" roses are falling guaranteed breakdown "the ache inside/the hate/i found a way/to sit and wait/and now i cant/your voice/your face/without a trace/ill wait for you" LIKE HELLO going insane does anyone want anything

idk im sure sam has like feelings and stuff too but ill be honest i dont care asdkjfhsdk (no not really like i love sam my weird little 'maybe theres something fundamentally wrong with me' boy but i have no lyrics that make me want to gnaw on glass like they do with some other people but like turn to hate maybe if u wanna go a little insane "take me back to the time i was yours you were mine/take me back to the world i know" he said i just want to be normal i miss the love of my life im undone "i hope to die" like hello trials arc im trying not to let the sorrow turn to hate i see it) ((could this also be applied to dean yes but we're gonna let sammy keep some personality traits)) (((also must be noted that maybe orville is not the man for sam)))

#im gonna make one of those lyric comparison posts #but listening to this mans tunes and thinking has rendered me unable to do stuff or think #wow crazy #also hiii im so touched that someone wanted to hear my silly little brain throughts #answered #anon im in love with you #mwah #also theres more to say but im posting this #are there other characters in supernatural #maybe #oh wait curse of the blackened eye could also be samcoded

[lxngbottom]

HEADCANONS!

when the reader and her three best friends (dean, neville, & seamus) all go into a haunted house/maze at a hogwarts fall festival!

warnings: swearing!!!! but that’s it!

i randomly thought of this while watching an old chris klemens vlog idk (btw im still doing your guys’s requests! don’t worry!)

okay so obviously all four of you are really excited for the festival

but then

seamus mentions the haunted house 😳

& ofc dean and you are automatically on board

but neville.......

not so much

of course he’s a bit more afraid of things like that

seamus starts teasing him

“you scared, longbottom? i can’t wait to hear you scream like a girl!”

you tell him that if he really doesn’t want to then he doesn’t have to

dean agrees with you of course

but seamus is still trying to push him

but neville finally just decides to do it because he feels stupid for being so scared

and plus

you’re doing it...

so why should he be scared??

you’re a FRICKEN GIRL YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID AND BEGGING NOT TO GO NOT HIM

you guys get halloween treats beforehand

and neville keeps on looking at his watch because you guys said you would go at a certain time

and as you guys are finally heading to it you run into harry, hermione, and ron

they start telling you guys how scary it is

and that makes neville even more scared

but dean and seamus just wanna go even more

you guys are about to get in line and neville just steps away

but you catch him and talk to him

“if you really don’t want to go... you don’t have to. i just don’t want you to feel left out, nev.”

“no, no... i-it’s fine...”

you sigh and hug him before walking off to get in line with dean and seamus

but neville sees you guys laughing and being all excited as you guys are joining harry and ron

cause of course ron and harry are going again

he just huffs and literally says, “fuck it” out loud

he joins you guys and you get super happy

seamus makes some snarky comment:

“finally, longbottom! you’re not being a pussy anymore!”

he doesn’t mean it in a bad way

but you end up slapping seamus on the back of the head

but dean is just as excited as you over neville coming

you guys are all talking as you wait in line

and of course seamus says he has to pee as you guys are just about to go in

“scared, finnigan?” dean asks him with a grin on his face

“no! i’m not scared!”

you guys finally get in

and oh my god

the screams that leave your mouth are ungodly

“OH MY GOD, Y/N! SOMETHING TOUCHED ME!”

“Y/N PLEASE HOLD MY HAND!”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!?!”

neville of course is holding your hand the whole time

excuse me

CLINGING onto your hand for dear life

“DEAN GRAB SEAMUS BEFORE HE HITS SOMEONE!”

“NEVILLE OW YOU’RE HOLDING ONTO MY HAND WAY TOO TIGHT!”

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK?!”

but the whole time all of you are just laughing

“I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR ANYTHING TO TOUCH ME!”

by the time you guys get out

neville is still holding your hand and seamus is holding onto your arm as tight as he possibly can

neville lets go of your hand and just stares at you guys....

“that was—“

you guys stare back at him

“that was bloody amazing! can we go again! can we, y/n?!”

you laugh and see the pure excitement on neville’s face as he tries to drag you back to the line

“oh no! i am not doing that again!” seamus screams, still clutching onto your arm

you and dean start teasing him because now he’s the pussy

of course the three boys start arguing about what to do

and you can’t take it anymore

“okay! okay! how about this... seamus can go and pee, we can get some ice cream, and then if you guys are still up for it, we can get back in line!”

they all agree to it

seamus goes and pees

you guys get some ice cream

and dean convinces seamus to go again

you guys go again and neville is super excited

you guys still scream like the first time around

and afterwards you guys play some games

neville wins you a little pumpkin head plushie :,)

and then you guys get some butter beer

overall you wouldn’t trade these type of experiences for the world cause you just love those boys with your whole heart!!

#harry potter #harry potter headcanons #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville x reader #neville x you #neville x y/n #neville longbottom headcanons #dean thomas imagine #dean thomas imagines #dean thomas x reader #dean thomas x y/n #dean thomas headcanons #seamus finnigan imagine #seamus finnigan imagines #seamus finnigan x reader #seamus finnigan x y/n #seamus finnigan headcanons

[salazarslytherin]

belong (h.p x y/n)

requested : yes!!! my very first :D [So I don’t know if your up for request but if you are would you mind to do a dom Harry x fem reader and him using different toys on you. You can ignore this if you want ! Anyhow have a nice day !! :)] send in your own request here!

🃛 masterlist!

cw / tw : smut!!!!, name-calling, slight degradation, dom!harry, references like sir etc., bondage, slight exhibitionism, sex toys, anal play, edging, overstimulation, jealousy, possessiveness

word count: 2780 my goodness i just ran with this request huh..

a/n: slight au in this one, basically voldy doesn't exist, like he died or wtv idk . just normal hogwarts with high-school dynamics. hope you enjoy!

"Who do you belong to darling?"

The answer was muffled through the cries that escaped your lips, but Harry gently hit your bum, letting out a harsh 'speak' as he thrust into you, eliciting a soft mewl from your lips as you gasped.

"You, Harry, only you. No one else could make me feel as good as you do!"

⚔︎

It was the party of the year. The Slytherin common-room was in full swing as all four houses meshed together to simply wind down after exams and have a good time. You'd gone to the party with a few girl friends from your dorm, Harry promising to meet you there after he was done with quidditch practice.

"Hey y/l/n! Want a drink?"

Zabini approached you sitting on the couch, two red solo cups in hand as he passed one to you, flopping down on the green satin couch and wrapping an arm around you. The two of you weren't exactly friends, but also weren't exactly strangers. You shared flirty comments in potions, but both of you knew nothing serious would come from it. He was just fun to be around, and you knew he felt the same about you.

Oh, and there was something else about him.

Seeing you talk to Blaise drove Harry absolutely insane.

It wasn't that Harry didn't trust you, he definitely did. He just was an incredibly possessive guy, and you found it really, really hot. But also, you found yourself enjoying Blaise's company, so you grew closer to the Slytherin. Playing with fire more and more as the days passed. ⚔︎ Harry stepped into the Slytherin Common Room laughing, the door closing behind him as he slapped Ron on the back. Scanning the room, the laughter dissipated and his jaw clenched, unconsciously gripping Ron's shirt which had the ginger wincing, looking to see what had pissed his best friend off. Ron's eyes landed on you, clad in a tight-fitting dress, sitting with Zabini's arm wrapped around your shoulders. The pair of you were laughing at something as you leaned in a little too close to the Slytherin. The seeker's eyes narrows behind his glasses, stalking over to the couch and stood in front of you. "Oh hey Haz! I didn't know you'd come already. D'you wanna top me off?" Shoving your cup into your boyfriend's hands, Harry took a whiff of the container which reeked of firewhiskey. He could tell you were tipsy, and pulled you up off the couch, whispering into your ear. "No, but I'd like to fill you up." You swallowed slightly, your throat suddenly feeling dry despite all that you'd been drinking that night. Harry threw Blaise a weak smile as he leaned away from your ear, a smile that definitely did not match the dark look in his eyes. "Zabini I'm going to take her back to my dorm for a bit. She's clearly out of it." The aforementioned Slytherin shrugged and got up off the sofa, not before turning back to throw you a wink. "Until next time, Y/N." ⚔︎ The door to Harry's dorm was thrown open with just a wave of his hand, an impressive feat of wandless magic that you were not in the proper headspace to admire. "Did you forget who you belonged to, y/n, hmm? Because it sure as hell seemed like it." The boy all but growled at you, making you shiver slightly, dampness pooling in your underwear. "W-what do you mean Harry?" The boy let out a humourless laugh, his eyes dark with lust and determination, before pushing you down onto the bed nearest to the door, pinning your arms above you. "It seems my little slut needs to be taught a lesson." A moan elicited from your throat as Harry leaned down to kiss you, his tongue slipping into your mouth as your hands shot to your usual position – lost in his mess of curls. But he moved away as soon as you did so. "No can do baby doll, bad girls don't get to touch. In fact, I think that in itself deserves a punishment. Come, get up, strip, then lay yourself over my lap." You slipped off your dress and shoes, standing in front of Harry in just the green lace underwear that you'd worn for the night. The sight of the underwear made Harry's cock swell slightly, but a bitter taste formed in his mouth. "You little slut. Wore that for Zabini didn't you? Your pretty little tits covered in Slytherin colours. Now we can't have that, can we?" He grabbed you harshly, basically throwing you over his lap as he grabbed your left tit over the thin lace of your bra, his other calloused hand rubbing your ass. He took the bra off, letting your tits free, throwing the bra somewhere across the room, summoning a paddle from a secret trunk under his bed. "Now my little whore, I want you to count, and thank me with each one. Let's start with twenty, and we'll see how it goes." You whined in response, but did not object. Slap. "One, thank you sir." Slap. ⚔︎ Twenty-eight spanks later – Harry said you answered too late for some, and squealed a little too loud for the others, and you were on the verge of tears. Wiping the tears that had spilled away, Harry flipped you onto the bed, a dangerous smile on his face. "Very good baby. But don't think it's over yet. You still haven't answered for your actions. You know how I feel about Zabini. Now, I'll make you feel the same." Waving his hand yet again, ribbons, crimson ones of course, flew to bind your hands and legs to the posts of the 4-poster bed. A gag followed

a few moments later, covering your mouth. Leaving you for a second, Harry returned with an array of his favourite toys, making you whimper at the sight of them. He switched on his favourite one, a purple curved vibrator, and pressed it to your clothed clit, a moan ripping from your throat as he toyed with your nipple simultaneously. "Now, because you've been so bad, I don't think you deserve to cum until I've been inside you. Don't you agree darling?" Shaking your head vigorously, your body too sensitive for you to produce any noise, you pleaded with your eyes, but Harry only smirked. "Oh you do! Fantastic. Now, since my little slut is so enthusiastic, why don't we try something new?" Harry ripped the green thong right off of your body, making you groan slightly, narrowing your eyes at him as he smiled innocently back at you. His fingers traced your slit making you moan, gathering the moisture that you had produced on two of his fingers, before leaning forward to give your cunt a soft lick. His slickened hand slowly started to trace your asshole, pushing one finger in as he pushed his tongue into your hole, thrusting in and out of both holes with the same pace. "You like that? You good? Remember to click." The words caused vibrations to travel up your body, moaning into the gag, nodding. Harry's concern for you turning you on further, the knowledge that you could get out of the restraints at any second making you remember how much Harry cared for you. The aforementioned boy hastened the pace at your encouragement, adding a second finger into your asshole. Just as your moans started getting louder and your cunt began fluttering, Harry stopped, moving away from you and off the bed, making you shriek in protest of your lost orgasm. "I told you darling, not yet." With that, he picked up the vibrator he'd abandoned just now, as well as a set of anal beads that he'd newly acquired, and gently put them into you, leaning back and admiring his work. "Well, I'm going back to the party. See you in a bit!" Harry plucked his wand from his back pocket, casting disillusionment and muffliato charms over you, ignoring the screams of protest that came from behind the gag. "Oh by the way, the muffliato is only for the vibrator. Not for you. Don't be too loud! And don't forget. No cumming. Love you!" ⚔︎ Harry was back at the party, sipping his firewhiskey and not even slightly listening to what Dean was saying to him. All he could think about was Y/N. Naked. Tied up. Shaking. Moaning his name. The thought alone made him so hard he was certain you could see every vein of his dick through his pants. "Anyways, I'm going to go back to the dorm real quick. I promised Nott to get him a...Muggle treat. Be right back." Only after the slight slap on the bicep and the closing of the massive wood doors did Harry register what Dean had said. "Oh shit." ⚔︎ You couldn't help yourself as the vibrations kept thrumming through you, trying to keep yourself quiet had become almost useless as you knew that everyone in your grade was at the party, but the fear and adrenaline of being caught turned you on more and more. You and Harry had discussed doing something like this multiple times, but you'd never expected it to be tonight. Torn from your thoughts, you were forced to remember why this toy was Harry's favourite as the vibrations changed in intensity once in a while – Harry could control it with his wand, and Merlin was he doing it. It was like the boy had memorised the way you orgasmed, knew exactly how much it would take to get you to the edge, and then knew exactly how to get you off of it. Lost in your thoughts, you nearly missed the thundering of someone coming up the stairs, and you immediately shut your mouth. Struggling against the restraints you remembered the disillusionment charm, and bit on the gag, hoping whoever came in would go straight back out. "Now where's that bloody mag?" Dean had slipped into the room, tripping over his feet slightly, causing him to have to steady himself on the bed nearest to the door, the

bed you were currently tied to, which nearly made you squeal in fear and shock, suddenly thankful for the gag that had been making your jaw ache. "Merlin, who's–" "Ay mate." Harry walked into the room, a cup barely hanging from his hands as he nodded at Dean, casting a sly glance towards the bed he knew you were on. "Hey Harry. Why're you up here?" The small smile that appeared on Harry's face made you shudder as he subtly turned up the vibrations on his wand. That boy was going to be the death of you... "Nothing much. Kinda tired, and I came here to find something for y/n. I'll head back down in a bit." A hum came from Dean's shadow, who was stood at a bed that was far too close to yours for your liking, as a triumphant sound emerged from the boy. "Finally found the mag! Right, I'm headed back down, see you in a bit Potts." ⚔︎ As the disillusionment charm lifted, Harry was greeted by a very, very, red y/n, with every crevice of your body twitching. An intense moan ripped from your throat as you watched him approach you, caressing your body softly, feeling the callouses on his hands on your soft skin. "You've been so good for me baby. So good. Are you ready for your reward?" You nodded vigorously, tears spilling from your eyes as he switched off the vibrator, removing it from your hole. He began stripping, the slow pop of each button on his dress shirt revealing more and more of his quidditch toned body, making you cry out as the seeker pulled down his pants, allowing his cock out of the tight restraints of his jeans. He removed the gag, placing a soft kiss on your lips as whimpers and moans erupted. "Please. I need you inside me so bad. Want you so bad. Please sir." He attached his lips to your neck, smiling against it as he pumped himself softly, prepping himself to enter you. "Now I can't deny my pretty little slut what she wants, can I?" He sank into you, both of you moaning out simultaneously as he felt your wet warmth tighten around him, reaching behind you to pull the silver anal beads out. "Oh, Haz, please. I'm going – to cum already." Harry began thrusting in and out of you, loud moans rumbling against your collarbone as he kissed and sucked on it, leaving a dark hickey on the bone. "Fuck, yes, cum around my cock. Let me feel your tight little cunt cum baby." A scream ripped from your throat, your voice almost hoarse from the sound you'd just emitted, your entire body shuddering as you released the most intense orgasm of your life – having been kept on edge for almost two hours now. "Fuck, Harry!" As you came, Harry clicked his fingers as quickly as he thrusted into you, the binds falling away from your appendages. Basking in a post-orgasmic bliss for a brief moment, you were brought back into reality by Harry continuing his thrusts into you. "Oh, you're so tight. And this pretty little pussy is all mine." You wrapped your hands around his neck, pressing your lips close to Harry's, moaning against his lips as the thrusts hastened. His hand reached down to your clit, rubbing in vigorous circles, while yours gripped onto his shoulders, leaving nail marks – a reminder of tonight. "Tell me. Who do you belong to darling?" The answer was muffled through the cries that escaped your lips, but Harry gently hit your bum, letting out a harsh 'speak' as he thrust into you, eliciting a soft mewl from your lips as you gasped. "You, Harry, only you. No one else could make me feel as good as you do!" Content with the answer, Harry began kissing down your neck, before reaching your tits, sucking and kissing the two nipples, never stopping the furious attack on your clit. "Come on y/n. Cum for me again baby. Cum with me." His cock twitched inside of you, and the stimulus of everything came down upon you as you came for the second time, and Harry the first, releasing his seed into you, moaning into your breast as you scratched down Harry's back, no doubt leaving marks for everyone to see during tomorrow's practice. He pulled out of you slowly, watching as the aftermath of your time together spilled out of your hole, then placed tender kisses on your ankles and wrists. "You did so well for me darling. So, so well." You hummed, caught in a daze, uncertain of how to keep your head from spinning at the moment. "How are you baby? Give me a colour y/n." The colours were a measure of your well-being: green was good, orange was uncertain but alright, red, well red doubled as your safe word. But you'd never had to use it once with Harry. "Orange, because my head won't stop spinning and my body won't stop thrumming. But I'm fine Haz." He smiled worriedly down at you, his glasses fogged slightly from the sweat that dripped down his face. "I love you so much. Now let's get you cleaned up." ⚔︎ After Harry cleaned you up and about fifteen minutes lounging on, well, whoever's bed this was, you slipped on your dress, without any underwear on, because Harry had literally ripped your thong apart, and got ready to head back down to the party.

"You're so beautiful. I love you so much."

Harry pinched your ass through the dress, giving you a kiss as you two stood at the top of the stairs, meeting Ron who was on his way up.

"Hey mate. Going to bed?"

The ginger nodded, yawning slightly.

"Yeah, hard practice today. See you tomorrow mate. You too y/n. Looks like you had fun."

He wiggled his eyebrows at the hickeys that covered your neck and collarbones, causing you to blush as Harry pushed his friend towards the room.

"Alright alright. Get outta here. Good night!"

The ginger gave a reply, which then turned into a shriek.

"Harry! Why's there a bra on my bed! And a – AHHH. Wait, why's Seamus' bed a mess? He made it this morning! Harry! For fuck's sake! We made a promise not to EVER DO THIS!"

The sound of footsteps came towards the large oak doors, as Harry ushered you down the stairs, the two of you laughing.

"Run. Run. RUN!"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! Just you wait!"

#mine #writing #smut #harry potter smut #hp smut #harry potter x you #hp imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter angst #harry potter fluff #harry potter #harry potter fic #hp angst #hp fluff #hp fic #harry james potter

[cooloddball]

JIB9 (JIBCON 2018) ANALYSIS PART 2

Go read part 1 of jib9 analysis if you haven’t read it already.

Continuing from where we left off...

Misha says no, he doesn’t think that Cas feels like part of the family and Jensen smirks and looks down while Jared smiles

Jensen helps Misha along with his answer 

Jensen defends Sam and Dean after Misha says they don’t show emotion saying things like “I love you so much”

Jens: “There are a few scenes where you know,”

Jared: “Didn’t you see the one with the whole if we die we will do that together too?”

Jens: “Yeah that was emotional”

This is getting serious people. Remember this is season 13 they are talking about.

Jens keeps going on “you know there was embracing, and then there was a lot-I mean…” This whole time Jensen is looking at Misha

Misha is like “All I’m saying…”

And Jensen cuts Misha  off and says, “Did you miss that?”

Look at Jared’s face here though. He’s like are you guys having a lovers’ quarrel? Am I missing something?

Misha tries to talk again but Jensen is adamant, unrelenting to give up on that there was an emotional scene between Dean and Cas. 13x05???  “Were you not there?”

Misha being who he is and not backing down either he says, “NO” rather defiantly. 

Jared’s face here though. He stopped talking and is watching these two lovers go at it. (No, not the sexy kind)

Jensen doesn’t look too thrilled about what Misha said. Jared laughs Jensen is basically done at this point. Look at his face.

Misha continues “That was Castiel”

And Jensen just looks appalled, he raises his eyebrows looks down at his hands [0.43 insert Jensen’s face atm] and since Misha is looking at him and he sees that Jensen is unhappy he adds “I’m very method.”

Jensen goes to say something but stops himself, Jared senses the tension, Misha is still looking at Jensen and Jensen hasn’t looked at Misha since he asked him “were you not there?”

IDK what is going on here but it fees like more than just about Dean and Cas and more like it’s about Jensen and Misha. I mean Jared and Misha are having fun with it and Jensen just seems adamant to prove they care A LOT about Cas which is weird considering the fact that the moment Misha was asked that question Jensen agreed with Jared that they are not as pleased that Cas was back (this was a joke) . So what has changed since then? Only a few seconds have passed.

Jensen presses on, “I mean was Cas there? I know he was there physically but was he there emotionally? Because it doesn’t sound like it.”

The way Misha is holding his microphone he looks scared. Jensen can’t take his eyes off Misha.

Misha says, “see this is what I’m talking about” I think he realizes Jensen is getting too emotional and personal on stage and he decides to guide the conversation to the funny side.

Jensen laughs .

Misha says “ I don’t think he [Cas] lets himself feel worthy or wanted” and Jensen keeps looking at a fixed spot on the floor and I don’t know what’s so interesting there. Jared says “smart” in reference to Misha’s statement and Jensen nods.

Jared tries to make fun but Misha is not having it, he [Misha]  looks at an imaginary watch and says  “That said-uh…that said I think this season he’s felt more part of the team and the family…probably *looks at Jensen* more than ever before” Now I talked about that moment here but I have to reiterate, something is off here tbh. I don’t know what was going on with Jensen but something was definitely off.

I have been thinking about what the causation of Jensen’ s behaviour could be and I have come to a very weird and maybe kind of controversial conclusion, IDK. But  here’s what I think. Maybe Misha finally told Jensen that he didn’t feel like he was part of the family because of the way they treated him and talked shit about him at J2 panels? Like how he pretended to gag when he saw Misha on screen during the jib9 j2 panel the previous day. Or the extreme pranks Jared played on him and Jensen just stood aside? The way some  j2 fans send hate to him and that it gets to him. Maybe he finally opened up. Because if that is the case then,  Jensen blamed himself for making Misha feel like that when he didn’t have any intention to? I hope I’m making sense. Or maybe it could be something else entirely but I feel like since 2017 Jensen had stopped going along with Jared’s attempts to make fun of Misha at their panes. So maybe this was him feeling bad that he ever played a part in that??? Okay my head hurts I have to move on. 

Since that moment Jensen doesn’t look okay, even when Mishalecki are bantering with the next fan, Jensen just seems sad? Sad is not the right word but he seems kind of upset 

So the fan makes a small mistake in what she’s asking and Misha laughs  then Jensen turns to look at him for a brief second, it’s literally for a second and Misha looks at him with his big blue eyes but Jensen looks away rather quickly. I think they can both feel the weight of the previous answer Misha gave simmering beneath the surface but they can’t talk about it atm. 

Now Jared says something rather weird to me, “A man who goes to sleep with an itchy butt wakes up with a smelly hand.”   (I know it’s a saying or whatever but it’s just a strange thing to say or maybe it’s just me) Jensen is nodding along to that but Misha doesn’t look amused. I think it’s an interesting thing to say when two of your best friends who play with each other’s butts are seated on stage with you. I’m not sorry I said that because it had to be said.

For a literal microsecond, Misha looks at Jensen but Jensen is looking at a fixed spot on the floor as has become norm in the last 2 minutes. Mish suppresses a smile because he knows Jensen still feels bad about earlier.

Jared says that’s why he thinks the brother’s and Cas have to die in order for the show to end and Jensen’s face is just stoic. Dude wtf?? 

Jensen joins in the banter and makes a joke about a man who stands on a toilet while high on pot he’s not crazy he’s just high? J2 make another joke about a man going backwards to Bangkok or something. Misha manages to laugh at those jokes.

Jared asks Misha  if he has anything to add and Jensen looks at Misha smiling look at the way he’s looking at Misha. It’s like he wants to stuff him in his pocket and take him home with him.

Jensen is laughing so hard now because Misha says that the only sayings that come to mind are the only ones he doesn’t want to say.

They try to pronounce the German word and it’s hilarious AF.

So Jared makes a joke of a sound that the fan is helping them pronounce and Jensen is just done. Completely done because he looks away and scratches his beard like he wants to be anywhere but there. JFC What is going on? He was happy again.

OMG husbands whispering at each other while Jared is engaged with a fan. Gossipy Jensen. Also I’m glad whatever tension was there after the Cas question is finally gone and they are back on track again.

They are in there own little world because IDK what Misha whispered to Jensen but Jensen is unicorn laughing. Aww J

 “We just said some really bad shit” I like it when Jensen curses. Now I want to know what they said because when Misha whispers it to Jared, he laughs really hard as well. Oh to be a tiny ant crawling around, listening to their whispered secrets. A girl can dream am I right?

7.33 Jared asks the fan what her “that German/Austrian word” was that morning and I am inclined to think whatever the husbands were whispering to each other had something to do with a sex-related orifice because of the way Jensen reacts.

The fan puts Jared in his place. Look at Jensen’s reaction.

He’s like you go girl.

Jensen wants to whisper something to Misha so bad but he stops himself.

Okay so Jensen says he did bicycle touring and he did take part in some of the quests. Is he talking about GISHWES because he never can pronounce that word. LOL.

So Jared interrupts Jensen starts telling his story and Jensen just shuts down just look at his face the entire time Jared is telling it.

Misha and Jared are talking about how it’s so hot on stage and Jensen is just miming to the fans how it’s not hot. I love when he does that. Naughty boy.

Misha moans and he and Jared just rush off to point the fan in their direction while Jensen just stands over the fan on his side of the stage and cools his balls off.

OMG!!!! Misha is doing the mating dance while making fiery eye contact with Jensen and sips from the bottle. Jensen heeds his husband’s call to mate and walks briskly in long manly steps to wards him and he takes the drink off his hand while looking at him like he wants to eat him [it’s called a mating dance for a reason] and inhales the drink whatever it is and it must be really strong because he looks away and says something to Jared. Misha walks away says something to Jared and goes to sit down.  Jensen starts twerking his booty. Misha your man wants to mate on stage do something. Anyway Jensen pours the drink that Misha had sipped directly from the bottle in a shot glass  and does the rck on sign and sips it. The entire time Mishalecki are just looking at Nesnej and laughing not understanding what is going on.

Jared sniffs the drink and says “poker face” and Jensen says “thanks Lady Gaga” IDK if this was a snide comment or just banter but now we know Jensen listens to Lady Gaga and Katy Perry (re: jib8).

This part is really funny when the fan thanks Misha for sending a recovery message to her friend but Misha says that  he had no choice but to do it because the fan just held out the phone to Misha and Misha was like “oooh, heeey”

I think Jared asks Misha what happened and Misha explains because Jared folds over laughing.

Jared starts talking before Jensen can answer the question and again Jensen doesn’t look too amused. This guy keeps stealing his thunder.

Jensen manages a smile when he hears that Misha did a German accent 

Misha asks Jensen if he wants some tips on accents and Jensen smiles and says no. Ouch. Sorry Mish, your man doesn’t want your help. He’d rather wing it.

Misha is not backing down and compliments Jensen by listing all the accents that Jensen can do. We love a supportive husband. Hype your man Mish.

Jensen says that he speaks French and he has a little have a  tête-à-tête in français. I find it funny how Misha pretends not to know Jensen speaks French yet he just listed all the accents Jensen can do. Sure Jan.  And after the French interaction which Misha adds a flair of a French accent when he talk as and , Jensen tries really hard  not to smile. Someone’s excited. #accent kink ;)

Jensen says he doesn’t think Michael is going to need an accent and Misha says yes he will in French accent and Jensen is just trying really really hard not to smile.

Look at Jared’s face though he’s like dude are you seriously turned on by Misha’s weird accent right now? It’s not even funny and Jensen can’t stop smiling.

Jensen is done with Misha’s shenanigans so he just cuts him off and Misha is exasperated and Jensen proceeds to ask his question.

Fan says she would improve on Misha’s German accent and Misha gasps scandalized and  even Jensen is not happy about that but he takes this moment to make fun of Misha so the comment doesn’t seem as harsh 

Look at Misha’s face

and here is Jensen’s face  he can’t believe someone was mean to his baby.

Anyway, in an attempt to make it less painful for his man he tries to make and joke and says, “I didn’t send that out with the insult in mind but I’m really glad that happened.” 

The joke makes it worse and Misha  doesn’t seem to feel better. Poor Misha.

It’s over.

Time for the closing ceremony

Jensen and Briana singing.

 Misha and Adam

I love their friendship, makes me think of the possibilities that could’ve been between Cas and Mick on the show.

OMG Jensen you naught boy, yeah I see you have experience humping and spanking. Go on Rockstar we love to see it.

Even Jason Mann’s sees Jensen humping the air and Misha and Jensen turn to look at Jason. Jensen is  smirking at him after what he just did. OMG.

The way Jensen is looking at Rob when Rob tries to sing the remaining verses of carry on my wayward son. Jensen you need apple juice. Jensen is me. He is insane and he is me and I love him. JENSENKIN!!!!

Why are Jensen and Misha gravitating towards each other unconsciously? Do their hearts have magnets that pull towards each other?

Speaking of them why does Jensen seem extremely tall here and Misha looks so tiny.

Am I the only one who doesn’t like the guy who played Ketch? OMG he just rubs me off the wrong way.

 OMG is Jared trying to touch Jensen’s hand? Eww He touched Jensen’s arm and Jensen didn’t even look at him. This is embarrassing. Jensen hasn’t looked at him once/ HELP.

Misha and Jensen are standing the same way at the exact same time and they aren’t even looking at each other. OMG!! This is insanity.

Jensen turns to smile at Misha. Aww J

Jensen looks at Misha with a smile on his face when Daniela says they’ll be back the next year the year that gave us straddle gate and boners.

It’s over guys. 

So I have come to the conclusion that something was going on between Jensen and Jared at jib 9.

See you on the next one.

Part 1

#cockles #jib9 #jibcon 2018 #jib9 cockles panel analysis #j2m

[let-me-write-shit]

You writing is soo cool, you're amazing! I don't know if you are taking requests, but what about a famous Y/N and meets professor Harry and he is like "I don't want to teach you, you are famous" and she is like "you are going to teach me and fall in love with me😏" and well, idk the idea just came to my mind and I thought of you to write it hahaha. Love your writing, keep doing it 'cause you are great!

 Word Count: 9,443 LONG AS SHIIIIT

WARNING: FILTHY SMUT!!!!!!!! (I put ******** before and after the smut so you can skip if you’d like

A/N: Thank you SOO much to @mylittleangel9403 for this request and I’m SOOOO sorry it took so long. Turned out a lot longer than I anticipated. Not sure if you wanted this to be smutty, but I just couldn’t help myself. Also, shoutout to @gwenlovesharrystyles for the help on this imagine! Much appreciated!!Enjoy!

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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Professor Styles

“Ma’am, respectfully, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Harry leaned forward in his chair, fingertips pressed together, aware of the large presence that sat beside him, his voice almost a whisper. “We’re already several classes deep, and as you know, my class is very difficult. She’ll be at a disadvantage going in, not to mention the students already in my class. The distraction isn’t fair for them.”

“Professor Styles, I don’t need to tell you how much this means to our University. I understand your concern, and I have every faith in you to help miss Y/L/N catch up to speed and keep your students in-check.”

He could feel the eyes of the famous singer on him as she uncrossed her legs and sat straighter in her chair. In his peripheral, he could see her burly manager, who stood in the back against a wall, take a step closer behind them like a bodyguard waiting to pounce. But for some reason, Harry had the distinct impression that Y/N could do without protection. He thought she was tough enough.

“Sir,” Y/N spoke softly and respectfully. Harry turned, seeing a reflection of yellow in her eyes as the sun shone through the window onto them, and he couldn’t help but think she was putting on an act for the Dean. “I know that the circumstances are...unusual. But, I promise I will do everything in my power to not cause any distraction in your class. I’ll sit in the back if that helps. Whatever it takes.”

The young professor took a deep breath, taking in her words. He looked around the room in thought, feeling everyone’s attention on him all the while. Some of the rumors about her seemed to ring true. Y/N had this energy about her that made it difficult to focus or think straight. She hardly took her eyes off of him throughout this entire meeting.

Harry sighed in defeat and nodded, “Alright. I trust she’ll be given the syllabus and information on everything she’ll need for my class?” he asked the Dean.

But before the Dean could respond, Y/N chirped, “I’ve already gotten it and I’m prepared to start next week.”

“Well, that’s settled, then,” the Dean grinned, victoriously, “Welcome to our school, Miss Y/L/N. Unless you have any more questions, you are free to go.”

Y/N stood up with a smile, followed by the Dean and professor. She stuck out a hand and shook them, saying, “Thank you so much. I look forward to starting on Tuesday.”

Her burly manager opened the door for her and she began to make her way out. And as Harry collected his things to leave, the Dean quipped, “Oh, Professor Styles. Before you head to your next class, I’d like to speak to you for a moment.”

Harry watched as Y/N closed the door behind her, almost certain he saw a wink, before setting his things back down and taking a seat once more. He listened as the Dean encouraged him to do all that he can to ensure Y/N had a good experience here, explaining how big of a deal this was and how Y/N taking his class might encourage more students to enroll.

Harry listened, respectfully, but wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes. It annoyed him that he was expected to baby Y/N and bend to her will solely because she was a rich and famous singer, and he refused to play a part in that. If she wanted success in his class, she would need to earn it just like the rest of his students.

When they finished their conversation, he was already running late for his next class. Again, he collected his things and made his way out of the office. As he speed-walked through the administration, he was surprised to see Y/N still there, sat on a chair beside her burly manager, talking. When she noticed him, she instantly jumped to her feet and raced up to him.

“Hey,” she said, simply, keeping his pace as they continued out of the administration building and into the main campus.

“I’m running late to my next class, Miss Y/L/N. Did you have a question, or can this wait?”

Her voice was so flippant that it bordered arrogance, “Just wanted to thank you again for letting me join your class this late into the semester.”

“It’s not me you should thank. I don’t agree with it and I won’t baby you. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I suggest you start reading your books so you’re not lost in my next class. Your classmates have worked hard to get to where they are and I’d hate for you to be the reason for a halt in their progress.”

“I think you’ll find that not to be the case.”

She was so smug that it caught him off guard. The looming of her large manager two paces behind him as they hustled down the walkway was even more noticeable now, along with the many whispers and stares as they continued. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, perplexed.

He debated whether to ask, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness or that he’d entertain her malarky. But his curiosity got the better of him.

“Miss Y/L/N, why are you taking my class?”

“Why not?” she smirked in response.

He sighed, annoyed that he was even going along with this, “We both know you don’t need to go to school, especially for Advanced Musical Theory. Why are you only taking my class?”

Her voice was softer and more sincere this time as she spoke, “I’ve always been interested in Music Theory and wanted to take it before my career kicked off. And I heard you were one of the best teachers in your field.”

For a split second, in that moment of sincerity, he thought he might have just seen her, the real her, behind all the fame and money and act. But her innocence faltered as she quickly shuffled in front of him, making Harry fumble to a stop.

Her eyes were more seductive now as she hushed, “Besides, I heard about how hot you were and I needed to see it for myself. And I’m not disappointed,” she looked at him through her eyelashes.

Harry could feel the warmth rise to his cheeks, extremely aware of her manager’s presence behind him and the few students nearby, staring. He was sure his face was bright red right now as Y/N’s smirk only seemed to grow.

Harry was aware of his reputation around campus for being the ‘hot teacher’. He wasn’t a stranger to the gossip or the occasional student trying to make a pass at him. And, honestly, his ego enjoyed it. But he’d never crossed that line with a student before and she would be no exception.

He did his best to compose himself and continued past her, Y/N following behind, “I’ll ignore that and just give you fair warning,” he started, “My class is hard and you will not be given special treatment just because you’re famous. I promised the dean I’d get you caught up, and I will. Your class is every Tuesday, and you can meet me in my office after each lesson for an hour for the next few weeks until we get you up-to-date on what you’ve missed. I will not play into your games.”

“Yes, Sir,” she pouted, teasingly, and again, jumped in front of him, holding a hand out and smiling, “Looking forward to next Tuesday.”

Harry looked at her suspiciously, pausing for a moment before ultimately giving in and taking her hand in his. But before he could respond, she pulled herself closer to him. So close that she was practically whispering in his ear.

“But just to warn you, not only will I ace your class, but by the end of the semester, I’ll make you call in love with me.”

Her breath was so hot and her words were so unexpected that he stood there, stunned, while she pulled away, winked, and walked back towards her bodyguard, heading back from where they just came from. She waved to a few students that recognized her, and she looked back once to blow a discreet kiss before she rounded a corner and was out of sight.

Harry watched after her, stunned at her assertiveness while people were watching. But he shook it off and continued to his class, mentally preparing himself to break the news to his students.

The anxiety in the week leading up to the start of Y/N’s first official day in Professor Styles’ class was becoming more frequently accompanied by the Dean’s constant checking in on him to make sure everything was ready, more students visiting or showing up to class, and even more excited whispers. Harry, on the other hand, did his best to push it aside, not getting what all the fuss was about.

He had done his best to prepare his students for their newly joined classmate, even sending out mass reminder emails to those in his class to please be courteous and warning them to avoid distraction. But when he pulled up to the school that day, he noticed more students than normal just hanging around, scanning all over campus like they were scouting for something.

Harry quickly realized that they were waiting to catch a glimpse at the famous singer and he snorted, rolling his eyes. Kids were so predictable. He slipped his lanyard with his ID around his neck, grabbed hold of his coffee and briefcase, and got out of his car, heading towards his classroom.

The Professor smiled and nodded at the students that greeted him in the hallway, proud that he knew each of them by name, continuing to his class. He knew his students would already be there, by now. Harry was usually always a few minutes late and he assumed that it gave his students more than enough time to ogle their new addition to the class.

But, when Harry rounded the corner and saw Y/N leaning up against the wall, arms crossed and alone, his nerves increased.

“Harry,” Y/N beamed when she spotted him, practically skipping over to him.

Harry raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat, “It’s Professor Styles,” he warned, earning a sarcastic nod while he continued, “Why are you not in class?”

“I thought we could go in together since I’m new.”

“I’m your professor, not your babysitter. Go on in next time,” he said as they approached the door. Before turning the knob, he paused and faced her, “While you’re here, I’ll explain to you what I explained to them on the first day. I’m a pretty easy-going teacher because I know how hard this class can be. You can eat in my class, you can have your phones out, you can come in wearing pajamas, I don’t care. However, the biggest rule in my class is that you treat people with kindness. We do not judge in this class. We don’t interrupt people or talk over others, we don’t make others feel inferior. My class is a safe space for people to be their authentic selves and we respect that. Can you do that?”

Y/N’s stance softened and she grinned, nodding, “Yes. I can do that.”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “I’d like you to take a seat towards the back of the class for today if you don’t mind. I’d rather they pay attention to me than the back of your head.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” Y/N exaggerated his title, her lips twitching up in a lopsided smile.

He looked down at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes, trying to size her up, before he gave in and turned the knob to his class. The buzz from his students loudly chattering amongst each other instantly stopped when he walked in, closely followed by the singer. Harry vaguely noticed that not only was every single one of his students present, but they all looked slightly more put-together than normal. He snorted under his breath, dropping his briefcase on his desk, taking a sip from his coffee cup, and placing that down, as well.

“Morning!” He called out, earning a chorus of greetings in return. He gestured towards Y/N who was making her way up the steps towards the back of the class, “I’m sure you all know who this is. We are incredibly lucky to welcome Y/N in joining us this year.”

Y/N stopped climbing the steps to smile brightly and wave obscurely at everyone, “Hi!”

Harry nodded towards her to keep moving. She rolled her eyes, playfully, and continued while he explained, “I know we’re all excited to have her here, but I want to remind everyone that while we’re in the room, we’re all students, and that includes Y/N. Let’s all focus on what we’re here for, so we don’t get lost when mid-terms get here, yeah?”

After another muttering of agreeance, Harry noticed Y/N getting settled in the back and he nodded, starting the lecture, “Okay, what I’d like to do is a one-minute warm-up on today’s exploration on duple and triple meter. So, I need everyone to stand up.”

The rustling of chairs echoed and screeched as students got to their feet. Soon, they were marching along to Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles, everyone laughing and feet stomping on the ground. He felt proud, seeing all the smiling, attentive faces in his direction and happy that throughout the lesson, nearly everyone had seemed to grasp everything that he was saying.

But, each time he glanced up in Y/N’s direction, he noticed that not only had she not even so much as picked up a pencil or opened her laptop, she had not looked away from him even once. He made a mental note to reprimand her after class and continued on.

When the lesson came to an end, Harry thanked the class for their cooperation and the students began to pack up their belongings. He watched as Y/N was met by a group of kids who were considered to be more ‘popular’ around campus. He saw her friendly smiles, but could barely hear her over the noise.

Once Harry managed to gather his things and toss his now-empty coffee cup in the trash, he approached the group, earning a pleasant round of hello’s by the students. One of the girls, Jesse, made sure to bat her eyelashes a little more and lean closer than necessary as she spoke.

“Great lesson today, Professor Styles. I did have a few questions about musical texture and was wondering if we could meet privately so I could get some more clarity on that?” she asked, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers.

Harry was used to Jesse’s incessant attempts at flirting with him and getting him alone, but he never took the bait, “I’m sorry, Jesse, I have no free office hours available, right now. But please shoot me an email with all of your questions and I’ll gladly help you out.” He heard sniggering from her friends as her face shifted into disappointment and he turned to Y/N, “Miss Y/L/N, when you’re done here, please meet me in my office so I can get you caught up.”

“Yes, Professor, I’ll be right there.”

He waited twenty minutes before he finally heard a knock on the door. He had half a mind to ignore it and let her stand out there, annoyed that he was wasting time trying to help an entitled celebrity who clearly had no interest in his class. What was the point? But, he thought back to the Dean, and reluctantly made his way to the door.

“Your students seem to really like you,” she confidently walked in, taking a seat on top of his desk and tossing her bag on one of the chairs, crossing her legs. “Especially that girl, what’s her name? Jesse?”

Harry blinked and slightly shook her head back before closing the door and rounding the desk she sat on towards his chair, not bothering to give the statement a response. But that didn’t stop her from continuing, “She’s like, in love with you. Well, maybe not in love. But you definitely make her horny.”

“Y/N!” You shoot back at the brassiness.

“She’s hot, I’ll give her that. But she’s definitely got that ‘daddy money’ vibe to her. She and her friends invited me to a party next weekend. And that kid, Mark, gave me his number. He’s pretty hot, too. Looks like some kind of jock.”

Harry nodded, shuffling his papers, “He’s here on a full-ride soccer scholarship.”

“Damn, I’m good,” Y/N leaned back, pressing her palms flat against the top of his desk, impressed with herself.

Harry looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. He wished he could say that her confidence astounded him, but honestly, he wasn’t that surprised. He could hazard a guess that her success was probably all handed to her. She joked about another student being given ‘daddy’s money’, but if he had to guess, she was probably the same.

He set the stack of papers down beside where she sat on his desk and looked up at her with a sigh, “Miss Y/L/N, my desk is not a chair. Please have a seat.”

She slithered down off the desk and plopped in a chair opposite him, scooting it closer and crossing her arms on the top, waiting for him to speak.

He relaxed his shoulders and continued, “You didn’t participate much in class today.”

“Well, you told me not to be a distraction.”

“Yes, but you’re still a part of the class. I expect more participation from you in the next class. And that includes note-taking. You won’t pass my class from memory. For now, I need to get you caught up.

Harry spent the next hour trying to get her caught up on the very first day of his class, which she interrupted every ten minutes, or so, going off-topic or asking very personal questions like ‘do you have a girlfriend?’ or ‘how many students have you been with?’ None of which he answered. When there were about ten minutes left in their time together, Y/N interrupted for the eighth time that hour and Harry groaned, unsure that she had retained any of the information he had provided her so far.

“What made you want to do this? Teach Musical Theory?”

He looked up at her and paused for a moment and she stared at him, her head cocked to the side. She looked genuinely interested, and it wasn’t often that he got asked these questions. He decided he’d entertain her, just this once.

Harry slid the paperwork away from him and sat back in his seat, “I’ve just always been interested in music since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, so have I. That’s why I became a musician. There are so many jobs in the musical field, why music theory?”

“Well, I am a musician. Not as big as you, obviously, but I have a small band and we play gigs around town. But the more I deep dove into music and the history behind it, the more I got into musical theory. It was a hobby and a passion before it was a career. And I guess I just wanted to show people how fun and interesting it could be.”

Y/N nodded, seeming content with his answer before saying, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good teacher.”

“You’ve only been in one class,” he chuckled, sitting up again and straightening out his papers once more.

She giggled, “Yes, but it doesn’t take long to know when a teacher is good or not. I see the way you interact with your students and hear the way they talk about you. Everyone seems to love you. It’s part of the reason why I chose to come here.”

“My reputation precedes me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Something like that,” she grinned, before softly speaking, “You know, we’re not all that different, you and I. I’ve been passionate about music for as long as I remember,” she laughed and said, “I remember when I was seven years old my mom took me to the library and I must have read at least six books, cover to cover, about Chopin. I knew everything about him and even named my pet rabbit after him. Everyone thought I was crazy.”

“Classical music?” Harry questioned, surprised.

She nodded, sitting up, “I’ve played piano since I was two.”

Harry pursed his lips, nodding his head, “Never judge a book by its cover.”

They stared at each other for a moment, silence filling the room. She looked more innocuous now; harmless as she sat with one leg crossed over the other. By this small conversation she had, she could see bits of himself in her eyes and it made him bring his guard down. For a moment, he was fascinated.

But her expression changed, more curious, as she asked, “So, how many lucky girls get the chance to have this one-on-one time with hottie Professor Styles?”

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples, “You exhaust me.”

“Or guys, I’m not judging,” she shrugged, “Though that would totally suck for Jesse. She’s really crushing.”

“I’ve never dated a student and I never will,” he said blandly.

“Never say never,” she smirked, “Why not?”

“Because they’re kids and it’s inappropriate.”

“Kids?” she snorted, “You’re barely four years older than most of your students. And everyone is of legal age.”

“I am not having this conversation with you,” he said, packing his things, “Our time is up. I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you in class next week.”

She grinned, gathering her things together and following him towards the door. As he reached for the door handle, she quickly put a hand on top of his, stopping him from turning it and making him look down at her as she said, “Don’t forget, Professor. Never say never.”

He watched as she opened the door and slipped out, turning her head once to wink back at him before she rounded a corner.

Harry found himself nervous and somehow anxious for the following week to arrive. It was the first time for years he had gotten there before any of his students. Every time the door opened and a student arrived, surprised by his early presence, he noticed he would jump and whip his head in the direction of the door. He tried to tell himself that he was just jittery or had too much coffee this morning, but he knew that wasn’t the reason.

When Y/N walked through the door, he felt his heart start to race.

“Good morning, Professor,” she smirked at him as she made her way up the steps towards the back of the class.

He nodded but didn’t respond. He felt stupid for not knowing what to say. There were so many options; hi, hello, how are you? Nothing. Harry watched out of the corner of her eye as she made a dramatic show of pulling out a notebook and a pen, sitting back in her chair and propping her legs up on the desk, making her short skirt slip up her thigh even more, waiting while she tapped her pen on the paper while the other arm was crossed over her stomach and her thumb grazed against her mouth.

He shook his head, pretending to search his briefcase for something as more students started to arrive, annoyed at himself for letting her get to him. In his four years of teaching, this had never been a problem before. How was she doing it?

Y/N waved as the group of kids she was seen talking to at the end of the last class squeezed in and they all excitedly waved back, making their way back to the seats in the row in front of her, spinning in their seats to talk. He wondered what they were talking about each time he saw her laugh or look down at him and hold eye contact.

The lecture started smoothly. He had them do another goofy exercise to get them ready for the class and was able to keep everyone’s attention as he explained notes and scales. Harry noticed the singer scribbling down in her notebook and was relieved to see she was taking notes this time. But what shocked him, even more, was her participation. The Professor, although known to make teaching and learning fun, was also known to ask a lot of hard questions throughout the class. Most, of which, the students rarely knew the answers to. That’s why he was surprised to see Y/N’s hand raised after nearly every question he asked, and even more taken back when her answers were right. Every single time.

Students began to become amused, automatically looking in between the two when a question would arise, and giggling at the incredulous expression on his face when she had, yet again, gotten the answer right. If he didn’t know any better, he would bet that by next week the class would turn it into some kind of a drinking game. He could have sworn he saw Y/N giggle under her breath and even blow a kiss.

After class, once again, Y/N was grouped on the steps by the rows of desks with Jesse, Mark, and their other friends. Y/N would twirl her hair and smile towards Mark and seemed to have him wrapped around her finger, but Harry also noticed how she’d look over Mark’s shoulder at him and bite her lip. She knew he’d be watching, and he hated himself for it.

Quickly, he packed his things and left the room, heading to his office to wait for her there, wondering what they were talking about. He closed the office door behind him, tossed his briefcase on the floor beside the paper shredder, and decided against turning the lights on. He blamed it on a splitting migraine, but it was really because there were too many intrusive thoughts running through his mind that he was doing everything he could to ease it, including pacing the room.

The attempts, however futile, were short lived. Minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and Y/N emerged, closing the door behind her, strutting right past him, and plopping on top of his desk again.

“How was that for participation, Harry?” she asked, propping a foot on the arm of his chair which made her skirt shimmy up her thigh just enough that if he were to look, he was sure he’d be able to see what she was wearing underneath.

He took a gulp and fought hard not to look down, lightly pushing her leg off of the arm of his chair so that both of her legs now hung down, taking a seat and crossing his arms, “It’s Professor Styles, and you did very well in class today, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Told you that I’d be a good student,” but her smile turned devilish as she spread her legs apart further and bent down closer to him, “But I can be bad if you’d like.”

“Please get off my desk and take a seat, Y/N. We’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” she exaggerated, slowly slipping off of his desk and rounding to the other side.

Again, Harry tried his best to catch her up on lessons she missed, but it hardly seemed to get anywhere with Y/N’s constant interruption of inconsequential questions and arbitrary thoughts that seemed to almost pour out of her mouth without thought. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath a few times. She wasn’t boring, he’ll give her that much.

The more she fought against his attempts at teaching her, the more he realized that they weren’t going to get anywhere unless he gave her a little of what she wanted. So when she asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” he sighed and ran his finger through his hair, giving in.

“No, I don’t. And why do you insist on coming to these meetings if you aren’t going to pay attention?”

“I am paying attention. You were talking about themes and motives of the piano and violin in Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony,” she said, confidently, crossing her arms, “I just think that it would be easier to come to class and learn if I knew my teacher a little better.”

He rolled his eyes at this attempt, but a smile crept on his face anyway, “What do you want to know?”

She smiled, sitting up, eagerly, “Well, it’s good to know you’re single. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

He sighed, uncertain why he was even taking part in this conversation, “A little over a year.”

“And you haven’t tried again since?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been busy.”

“Or you were heartbroken.”

The response stung a little. She was right. And that annoyed him even more. How did she do this? Get under his skin so easily? Instead of answering that, he retorted with, “Well, what about you? You’re obviously single, otherwise, you wouldn’t be flirting so much with your professor or the soccer star.”

Her smirk stretched wider, “Oh, are we jealous of Mike?”

He scoffed, grabbing the few pieces of paper off of his desk and attempting to organize it in the side filing cabinet, “No, I’m not jealous of a student.”

“Mhmm. Well, for your information we were just talking about the party they’re having this weekend.”

He tried his best to look confused, although he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that party since she mentioned it last week, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, it’s on Saturday. Not sure if I’m going yet. I’m sure my manager and PR would have my head if I was caught getting sloppy at a college party. Not good for the image,” she whispered, rolling her eyes.

He shrugged, “College parties aren’t all that great, anyway.”

“I’m sure,” she said sarcastically, “Anyway, I have a concert the night before, so I’m usually exhausted by the next day. You should come.”

“To your concert?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow, skeptically, “Unless you don’t like my music?”

Harry shrugged, “I haven’t really heard much of it,” he lied, “but my sister’s a big fan.”

“Well, I’ll put you down for a plus-one. As long as it’s just your sister.”

Harry felt a lump beginning to form in his throat and he shook his head, “I already have plans for Friday. But thanks, anyway.”

She shook her head, nonchalantly, “Well, offer still stands if your plans fall through.”

He tried his best to reroute the conversation back on topic and was thankful that she seemed to finally go along with it. But as it neared the end of the hour, he felt her eyes on his face more and more. He looked up in the middle of his sentence and froze when he saw her eyes on his. She seemed entranced and almost out of it. And something seemed to pull him into the same trance as her.

It was the first good look at her that he had gotten since their first meeting. Her skin looked soft and her eyes sparkled when the sun’s rays shone on them at just the right angle. He hadn’t noticed until now that the bridge of her nose was slightly elongated and somehow endearing. And her lips. Those lips.

Y/N shook her head and stood up. It was the first time that she seemed to be caught off guard, and that stroked his ego a bit. He glanced down at his watch and noticed that they had run overtime and he gasped. She seemed to realize, too. Hurriedly, they both began to collect their things, but in the frenzy, she accidentally flicked her pen off the desk and it ricocheted on his side, landing on the floor near his briefcase.

“Oh!” he heard her mutter, rounding the desk where they both hastily attempted to grab it.

Harry was the first to grab it and as they both stood up, they were face to face with each other, inches away. They froze, again, unable to move. He saw something in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before; nervousness. Y/N was always such a confident force, and to see her any less than that admittedly made him gratified, like he had obtained a victory. But he, himself, was losing the battle. She was breaking him down one wink at a time, and he had never felt so weak in his life.

He could feel the strain of his desire pulling him closer towards her, the gloss on her lips looked enticing. If no one stopped him soon, he wasn’t sure if he could hold off much longer. He saw her eyes begin to flutter shut as the gap between them closed. Her sweet, minty breath swirled in front of his lips, he could almost taste it. And then a loud knock on the door echoed around his office.

Y/N flew against the wall while Harry awkwardly knocked his elbow against the back filing cabinet just as Jesse haughtily belted into the room. Her wide smile slowly screwed up into trepidation at the awkward tension that filled the room as the professor and singer avoided eye contact with each other.

“Jesse!” Harry quickly spoke, “What can I help you with?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be finished. I just had a few questions about the essay, but I can just email you.”

“No, no, it’s fine, come in. Y/N was just on her way out.”

“Okay, cool,” Jesse smiled, stepping in further and placing her things on the chair opposite his desk.

Harry watched as the two girls exchanged friendly smiles, but he could see the slight embarrassment behind Y/N’s as she made her way towards the door.

“Don’t forget about this weekend!” Jesse called out after her, “I’ve never seen Mark so excited for a party before.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Y/N faked a laugh, sharing one last concerned look with Harry before closing the door behind her on the way out.

All week he found himself analyzing all of the occurrences that led up to him and Y/N almost kissing. He debated his sentiments, trying to logic every feeling of vulnerability and affection away with a simple explanation. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to pay attention to his work, constantly stumbling over his words of forgetting what he was talking about. When his class ended early on Friday afternoon and he sat in silence in his apartment, he stared at the blank television screen, contemplating whether or not he should take up her offer to attend her concert.

He paced the floor, opened and closed the fridge, tried to scroll through his social media apps, or read a book, anything to keep her mind off of her. He picked his phone up and stared at the home screen for a few minutes, constantly unlocking it when it got dark. With a final sigh, he opened it once more and dialed a number, putting it up to her ear.

“Hello, ya nimrod. What’s going on?” He heard his sister’s voice ring through the other end.

“How do you feel about going to a Y/N Y/L/N concert tonight?”

“You serious? Tonight? Bloody hell, yeah, I’ll go!”

“I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

Time only seemed to drag for Harry, left with nothing but his thoughts. It was enough time to go back and forth on whether or not he was making the right decision. Ultimately, he decided to go. He had already invited Gemma and he would feel guilty for bailing after getting her hopes up.

The sun was beginning to set and Gemma was singing loudly to Y/N’s lyrics in the passenger seat beside him. His palms were sweaty, gripped tight against the steering wheel. As the song ended, Gemma turned the volume down and turned to her younger brother.

“How did you get Y/N Y/L/N tickets, anyway? I didn’t know you listened to her like that.”

“I don’t, really. I mean, I’ve heard a few songs. But she’s my student and invited us to come.”

“She’s your student?” Gemma laughed, amused, “Cut the shit, Harry. How? Did you win them on the radio or something?”

“I’m serious. She’s taking my class.”

“What?” Gemma gasped, “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think to.”

“You didn’t think to tell me that one of my favorite singers is a student of yours?” Gemma clarified. Eyebrows furrowed, she sat back and huffed, “Some brother you are.”

“Hey, now! I’m bringing you to her concert, aren’t I?”

The walk up to the ticket booth was one of the most humiliating things he had ever experienced as he uncomfortably explained who he was and that he was invited by the singer, herself. It took two people and a member of her staff to vouch for him before he and his sister were escorted through the venue and entered the pain event area through a private entrance that led them towards a VIP barricade towards the front of the stage. Thousands of screaming fans surrounded them, and Gemma looked around, shocked at the scene.

“This is insane!” Gemma shouted in his ear, bouncing on the balls of her toes.

Harry had to admit, it was pretty cool to see all of these people here for Y/N. He felt a sort of pride for her that he wasn’t quite expecting. And it didn’t take long for the lights to dim and the music to start.

He heard her before he saw her, and he felt his heart start to race again. He tried to play it off by the screams and the thumping bass, but when she finally came into view, he felt like he had been bolted to the floor, unable to move or talk or even smile. He was just stunned. Seeing her on stage was surreal. He knew of her, first, but it was hard for him to dissociate ‘student’ Y/N from ‘famous’ Y/N.

When they caught eyes and she realized he had come, a smile stretched across her face behind the microphone. He couldn’t help but mirror her, his shoulders relaxing as he managed a gentle wave. She walked closer to them on the stage, singing down at them, and he could hear his sister repeating ‘Oh my god, oh my god’ beside him as Y/N waved back in their direction.

Y/N was talented, there was no denying it. And the way that she interacted with her fans, you could tell that she was grateful for every second of it. It was touching. She was knocking down his assumptions about her little bit by little bit. He always thought that she’d be a spoiled, ungrateful celebrity, but that seemed to be completely false.

By the end of the concert, he had eased up and began to jump around, goofily, with his sister while Y/N watched, dancing around on stage, laughing and singing. Finally, the burly manager he had seen on the first day of their meeting with the Dean had approached him and his sister, informing them that they were invited backstage and to follow him.

His nerves began to rise in his chest again as they wove down several corridors until eventually, they stood before a door with Y/N’s name taped on it. The manager knocked loudly and waited a moment before they heard her voice on the other side call out, “Come in!”

With a turn of the knob, Y/N was now seen. She was in a new, more casual change of clothes and her hair was now up, but with visible beads of sweat lining her forehead and neck, she took a long swig of water.

“Hi!” she called, capping her drink and beckoning the two in, “Come in, come in! I’m so glad you came!”

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” Gemma tip-toed closer to her, smiling coyly as the door was closed behind them.

“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Y/N grinned, giving Gemma a much-wanted hug, “Please tell me you’re Harry’s sister.”

“Yes, I’m Gemma, his older sister.”

“Oh, thank god. I was worried he’d bring a date,” Y/N said, boldly, “He’s been playing hard-to-get.”

“You’re interested in my brother?” Gemma asked, astounded, “You’re way out of his league.”

Harry’s mouth fell open as Y/N laughed, “Yeah, and you’d think that’d be enough for him, wouldn’t you? But apparently he’s got standards,” she hyperbolized, rolling her eyes.

For an hour, Harry watched and laughed as Y/N and his sister talked and got to know each other more. They made jokes at his expense, and exchanged stories from their childhoods, shocked by how similar they seemed.

“You grew up around here, right?” Gemma asked the singer, taking a sip from her second beer of the night.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, about fifteen minutes from here.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing the only residential area in a fifteen-mile radius wasn’t exactly known to be the best neighborhood. Y/N seemed to gather his thoughts, further explaining, “It wasn’t always easy. My siblings and I were cramped in a two bedroom apartment and we didn’t have our own phones until well into our teens. I missed out on a lot growing up, but my parents did their best. We had everything we needed. I was lucky to be able to get all this and get them out of that apartment. My parents deserved a big house and a yard. I owed them that much.”

“How did you do it? How did you get to this point?” Harry asked, astounded.

Y/N shrugged, “Right place, right time. I was found singing at the mall for a small gig at a Christmas event. The rest is hard work and history.”

Harry shook his head, speechless. He felt guilty for passing judgment on her before, assuming that it was all handed to her and that she had got her start because of her parents' connections. She was self-made, smart, and deserving of every bit of success that came her way.

After one more round of beers, it was getting time for them to leave. Harry could see the excitement in her sister’s eyes start to be replaced by fatigue, and as much as he wanted to stay and talk some more, he knew he had to get a jump start on grading papers.

He set his empty bottle of beer down and Y/N frowned, “Time to go?”

“Yeah, should probably head out,” Harry nodded, pausing for a moment and taking in the frown on her face. He didn’t have time to think before he blurted out, “Want to join us for the ride?”

Her eyebrows raised and her lips twitched up into a smile, “Yeah, sure.”

Gemma let Y/N take the passenger seat and Harry felt tense as he drove, hand shifting the gears right beside her leg. He smiled every time he heard her laugh, though he couldn’t quite pay attention to what the girls were talking about. He was able to gather that they exchanged phone numbers before he reached Gemma’s house. His sister gave them both kisses on the cheek before bounding up the steps to her home.

The silence was deafening and Harry was certain she could hear him gulp as he turned to her and asked, “Where to?”

He knew what she was going to say. He didn’t need to ask. But to hear it come out of her mouth was something almost too much to handle, “Your place.”

He reversed out of the driveway, barely croaking out, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” she asked, turning towards him.

“You’re still my student.”

“So? We can just talk.”

Harry turned and looked at her, giving her a knowing look, “You know it’s not to just talk.”

“Why can’t it be? You don’t have any self-restraint? Is it because you like me?”

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he fumbled out a, “No.”

“Well then, what’s the problem?”

“......Fine.”

There wasn’t another word uttered for the rest of the journey to his place and he began to overthink. Was his apartment clean? Had he done the dishes? How messy was his room? Did it smell? He knew he should have gotten that diffuser from the store last week.

His nerves rose as he led her up to his apartment complex, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights, breathing a sigh of relief to see that it was, for the most part, fairly tidy. Y/N walked past him, scanning the scene, and as he locked the door he also held his breath, waiting for her to say something.

“Nice view,” she noted, briefly looking out of the window before turning to face him.

He tossed his keys on the entry table and motioned towards the kitchen to his left, “Drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“Water’s fine,” she said, making her way towards his living room.

He took the moment to catch his breath, trying to regain control of his thoughts before joining Y/N on his couch, handing her the drink. They both took a swig and he felt her eyes bearing holes into him, again.

When he set his drink down, he turned to her, “You’re very intense, you know.”

She smirked, leaning into the couch some more, “Yeah. I just know what I want.”

“And what’s that.”

“You.”

The immediate response caught him off-guard, but he wasn’t surprised by the answer. At this point, he knew exactly what she wanted, and was only feeding his ego more. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by her and hadn’t thought about the same, but a part of him liked the chase.

He chuckled, sitting back, “You’re my student.”

She moved closer to him, more energetic this time, “I just happen to be into Musical Theory, that’s all.”

“You’re still my student,” he grinned, amused, patting her leg.

“So, what if I drop out? Would that change anything?”

Harry’s grin faded and his hand stayed where it was, resting on her thigh. He stared into her shining eyes again, seeing the seriousness behind them, and he froze, unsure of what to say. Would it change anything if she dropped out of his class? He wasn’t sure it would even need to come to that if she kept looking at him like that any longer.

His eyes flickered from her eyes, to her lips, and back up to her eyes as she waited for a response. He debated whether or not to just give in and kiss her right there. She wanted it, he wanted it, why keep fighting it? There weren’t any rules against relationships with students at his University, not like they’d even fight him on this one; they’re the ones that basically told him to give her everything she wanted.

But when he didn’t respond, Y/N pulled back away. He slumped, kicking himself for not pulling a move sooner. And after a moment of silence, she asked, “Hey, is it okay if I use your shower, real quick? I’m still sweaty from the show and I feel gross. I can take an uber home afterward.”

A million thoughts ran through his mind. Was that a move? Or an invite? Should he ask to join her? Why did she have to leave? He could drive her home, she didn’t need to take an Uber. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “Uh, yeah, sure.”

He showed her to the bathroom and went to grab her a towel from the linen closet as she adjusted the knobs and stuck her hand under the flow of water, gauging the temperature. By the time he got back in, she seemed happy with the warmth of the flow and took her hair out of its bun, placing the hair tie on the edge of his sink. He hung the grey towel on the rack beside the shower.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he muttered.

She smiled, “Thanks,” and before he was fully out of the room, she began to pull at the ends of her shirt. Quickly, he scurried out of the bathroom and closed the door to give her privacy.

Once out, his hands shot up to his forehead and he crouched, mumbling to himself a frustrated, “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you? Idiot!”

He sat impatiently on his couch, waiting for her to finish. When he heard the screech of the knobs turning and the pressure from the water fade, he shifted his position and quickly forced his attention elsewhere, trying to act casual. But when he heard the creak of the door opening, he turned his attention to see Y/N standing in the doorway, bathroom light glowing behind her, hair rang out and damp, clutching the towel around her body.

His eyes widened a bit as she spoke, “Do you have clothes I can borrow? Mine are still covered in sweat.”

“Uh, yeah, probably. In my room,” he stammered, getting to his feet and leading the way to his bedroom.

She followed, her feet lightly padding the wood floors. He felt almost embarrassed to have her in his bedroom. He wasn’t sure why, it’s not like it was dirty and he didn’t have anything oddities displayed, still, it was an intimate space, and to have her there felt personal.

He opened the bottom drawer of his dresser where he kept his pajamas and motioned towards it, standing up straight, “You can borrow anything from here.”

She bent down in front of him to rummage through, giving him a better look at her back. It looked clean, soft, and supple as droplets of water still lined her back and dripped from the ends of her hair, getting absorbed by the thin white towel she had wrapped around her. When she stood up, he took a step back and she turned, holding one of his oversized white t-shirts and a pair of his plaid pajama pants.

He stood there, unable to move as she stared at him, raising an eyebrow. And still, as she tossed the clothes on the bed behind him, he found himself, once again, rooted to the spot. A smirk started to form on her face and her voice was soft and playful as she spoke.

“How’s that self-restraint going?” she teased.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just looked at her. And when her playful smile began to shift into something more alluring, he held his breath, watching as she untucked the towel around her chest and let it fall to the ground. His eyes instantly dropped to her exposed chest and he felt his heartbeat pounding rapidly in his chest as she stepped closer to him, barely twelve inches, refusing to take her eyes off of his.

“I know you want to,” she whispered, stroking his arms before taking hold of his hands, lifting them and placing them on her chest, “Touch me.”

He felt his erection becoming uncomfortable as he ran out of room in his pants for growth, massaging her chest. His attention roamed back up, locking eyes with her again. There was no stopping it.

************************************************** In a bout of passion, they threw themselves at each other, hungrily attaching their lips to one another, tongues circling and roaming the other’s mouth. Y/N tore fabric after fabric off of him as they spun, grabbing at each other roughly and without deliberation. Soon, they were both naked and knocking into walls and tripping over clothes.

Harry pushed her up against the dresser as she grabbed hold of his dick, pumping her hands up and down his shaft as he moaned into her mouth.

“Does that feel good, Professor?” she bit his lip with a smile.

“Ungh,” he grunted, pulling away. He spun her around so that her back was to his chest, and forced her down to bend over his dresser, propping one of her legs up on the top of it before he got to his knees, burying his face in her muff.

She cried out, “Yes! Teach me, Professor!”

He flicked his tongue inside of her, lapping up all of her juices while he rubbed himself. He could have kept going for hours, but he could feel her legs start to tremble. When he stood up, he slapped his cock on her ass a couple of times, swiping his tip against her entrance enough to get it lubricated before slipping right into her.

Y/N threw her head back, breathing, “Oh my god, you feel so good, Harry.”

He wrapped an arm around her neck while his other hand clasped over her mouth as he grunted, “Professor Styles,” before sucking on her shoulder blade.

When he loosened his hand from her mouth to take hold of her hip, she whined, “I’m so sorry, Professor Styles. I’m not always bad.”

“No, Y/N,” he pulled out of her, spinning her to face him, tempting her as he walked backwards towards his bed, “You’re my good girl.”

The back of his legs hit his bed and he scooched himself back, letting her climb over top of him, straddling his hips. She bent down, biting his lip again as she lowered herself onto him, gasping as her cunt swallowed him up.

She leaned back, letting him get a better look at her, breasts jumping up and down along with her. He ran a hand from her cleavage down to her navel, grazing her soft skin and watching as her mouth formed an ‘o’, scrunching up her eyebrows in pleasure as she called out his name.

“That’s a good girl,” he breathed, an arm behind his head as he watched, “Make me cum.”

She rode him faster, breathing heavier as he continued to grunt, propping himself up now and suckling on her skin. Her breaths became more shallow and her movements more rigid as she wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing herself onto him even harder. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her down onto him, even more, to go deeper. He could feel her throbbing around him, which only made him more aroused.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he breathed, “Cum on my dick.”

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, and with three more pumps she let out a scream as she said, “Pro-fessor Styles!”

He smirked, quickly flipping her on her back and pumping harder and faster into her as her legs wrapped around his waist. She panted, squeaking as he grunted into her. He looked into her eyes which were full of lust as she stared back into him and he could feel himself start to build up. Even faster now, knowing he was about to finish, he smashed his lips down on her quickly before pulling out and squirting his jizz on her stomach, letting her rub out every last drop.

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

He collapsed on the bed beside her as they panted, trying to catch their breath before he got the strength to reach down and grab his shirt for them to clean up the mess.

When he turned to face her, she smirked, “Do I need to drop your class? Or can we fuck in your office next time?”

He let out a breathy laugh and mumbled, “That depends. Are you going to the party with Mark tomorrow?”

“Do you want me to?” she retorted.

With a deep breath, Harry shimmied closer to her, nuzzling his head into her chest which made her wrap her arms around him, running her fingers through her hair as he whimpered, “No.”

She laughed, kissing his curly brown locks, “Told you I’d make you fall in love with me.”

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

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#Harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #Professor! Harry #Harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction smut

[daydreamstew]

If you’re still doing prompts !!! #80  “I didn’t drive all this way to say ‘hey’.” :)

Hello!! 💕 Thanks for the prompt! I wrote this today instead of thinking about the fact the finale is tonight! 😩

Idk how I feel about this, but it’s a booty call fic set in season 1 if Beth had kicked Dean out and he had stayed out...you can read it on AO3 here or on here if you want :)

80. “I didn’t drive all this way to say ‘hey’.”

Rio is in her kitchen.

That’s not really a shock because she did invite him here. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. But still. Rio is in her kitchen. Groaning out a pleased sound while eating one of the cinnamon cookies leftover from when she had baked them in a frenzy to send with the kids when they went to Judith’s with Dean earlier.

The cinnamon cookies that she’d eaten about six of that evening. When the door shut behind Danny, the last straggler, she ate a cookie. When she went to straighten up the kids’ rooms and found them empty. Another cookie. When she flipped through the channels and found nothing to watch. Time for a cookie! When Dean called to fill her in on how the kids were settling in and to try to guilt-trip her into letting him move back in. TWO cookies.

She’d needed to get a hold of herself before she ate any more. She’d needed a distraction. And a bourbon.

So she’d gone on Netflix and flipped on some early Grey’s Anatomy. She wanted something juicy so she picked the episode where Izzie cuts the LVAD wire because she always loved Denny, but then all of a sudden Meredith and Derek were having passionate, adulterous sex in an exam room. And Beth got swept up in the tension of the argument about the way McDreamy looks at her and how he’d pulled her panties down and the way they had just wanted to devour each other.

And, well, it had gotten to her. And then she had been hungry for something other than cookies and she’d had a couple of bourbons and so what if she’d texted the one person in her phone that had come close to looking at her that way?

B: Hey

R: Yeah?

B: Can you stop by? It’s urgent.

R: 15 min

And, true to his word, he’d been there fifteen minutes and one bourbon later. And now he was in her kitchen, standing on the other side of her island while she leaned against the sink, finishing up the cookie. Licking the crumbs off his pink lips and looking at her expectantly.

“Ain’t you got some urgent business you gotta tell me about?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

And, oh god, she had not thought this through. He has no idea why she summoned him here tonight. What was she thinking? She doesn’t know how to follow through on a--a booty call. And that’s what this is, isn’t it? She’s never done this before. She’s a booty-call virgin!

And she’s wearing leggings and an old tank top! Aren’t you supposed to get all dolled up to try to seduce the person? She only has on the mascara and lip gloss she’d swiped on to go to the grocery store earlier to grab some more flour for the cookies. And then she looks down and realizes that there’s evidence of her stress-baking left behind on her shirt, flour coating her beat-up tank top like a big sign that says “I’m an unsexy mess.”

She puts on her best prim smile, pushing through her doubts.

“Yes of course. Very urgent,” she chirps, lying out of her ass.

He grunts something out, seemingly not convinced of its importance.

“Um, did you want another first?” she asks, pointing to the plate of cookies and trying to buy some time. “I could make you some coffee!”

She turns towards the coffee machine and starts to fiddle with it, but, shit, she hadn’t thrown out the grounds that morning. She’s about to hastily rectify that when she hears movement and turns to find Rio circling the island to stand across from her.

He’s looking at her with his head tilted, face neutral.

“Hey,” she breathes out.

And, god, what is she doing? Greeting him like he hasn’t been here for 5 minutes already. But he’s so much closer now and she can smell his cologne, see some stray lint on his peacoat.

He breathes out a chuckle, looks down, and smiles before looking back up.

“Yeah, I didn’t drive all this way to say ‘hey’ and have snack time, darlin’, so I’m gonna need you to spit it out,” he says, impatient and sneering.

And, okay, that’s dramatic. It only took him 15 minutes to get here.

“Spit what out?” she squeaks.

She really should’ve come up with an actual excuse for him to be here. But she’s just intoxicated enough by the combination of the bourbon and his scent that coherent lies have become inconceivable.

He takes another step forward, and she has to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He seems so unaffected by her presence. Oh god, what if she had made it up in her head? What if all the teasing flirting was manipulation? What if he never looked at her the way she thought he did?

“What it is that you need,” he answers, voice low and husky and delicious.

She’s about to call it off—maybe fake getting an emergency text from Annie as an excuse—not wanting to risk the rejection. But then. Then his hooded eyes dip down from her eyes to her neck and down to where her cleavage peeks above the neck of her tank.

Her heart rate picks up as she watches him lick and bite at his bottom lip as his gaze drifts down the rest of her curves the way she always thought it did.

She hadn’t made it up. 

She swallows and pushes her chest out a little more, lets her glossy lips fall open in a subtle pout.

His eyes return to hers and he rasps out, “Ain’t seen you in something like this before.”

He reaches out and tugs at the hem of her shirt. He’s looking at her in a ratty tank top like she’d put on her best lingerie for him. She shivers and lets out a breath from her mouth.

His eyes glance down to her pouting lips and that’s all the encouragement she needs.

She tentatively leans forward and up slightly onto her tiptoes and captures his lower lip between hers, kissing him softly.

He feels him stiffen for a second before he melts into it and grips onto her hips, pulling her toward him, deepening the kiss.

And his hands. His big hands that she touches herself to. Thinking about them touching her. Those hands are all over her, kneading at her ass, and tangled in her hair and gently feeling up her breasts like he if he’s too eager, it may all stop.

And his mouth. His lips and his teeth and his tongue that she always imagines licking and nipping all over her body and down between her thighs. They’re battling with her lips and teeth and tongue.

It occurs to her that she hasn’t kissed someone other than Dean in more than 20 years. It occurs to her that it had never once felt like this. She feels like she’s on fire. Feels the heat everywhere. But especially low in her gut. Wetness pooling between her legs. 

He’s groaning into her mouth, a pleased sound. Not unlike the one he had released when he was eating the cookie that she can taste on his tongue.

And she could kiss him for hours, days, years of her life, but she needs to breathe. So she pulls back and gasps in air while he does the same, hands gliding under her tank top to feel at the soft skin of her waist.

“Damn,” he breathes out.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“This the urgent business you called me over here for?” he asks, breathless and teasing her, pinching at her waist.

“Shut up,” she responds, lurching forward to kiss him again.

She nibbles on his lower lip and slips her tongue in his mouth and pulls a moan out of him while she drags her nails over his head. She drifts her hand down from his black t-shirt covered stomach to his groin to discover the hard line of his erection. He grunts into her mouth as the length of him twitches against her hand.

She wasn’t the only one that was hungry.

#look i know the finale is in an hour and a half #but here’s this #my writing #brio prompts #prompts #angst/fluff prompts #brio #brio fanfic #brio fic #brio fanfiction #nbc good girls #asks #lilliloves

[baobaojng]

when icarus falls (jung jaehyun) - act one

when icarus falls - act one, half time interval, act two

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - college athlete!au , crush!au

themes: angst, fluff

warnings: idk how to write timelines.

note: i accidentally deleted the first published version of this when I edited the text, but here’s the slightly different edited version i guess

summary: some tragic story of you sharing one class with your long time college crush jaehyun who never notices you until he accidentally reads your work and he gets curious— oh, and he uses lame excuses to get to talk to you.

wordcount: 13,342

>

If you were being very honest, Jung Jaehyun was all that. No exaggerations or extra praise; it was something that everybody knew.

Jaehyun was the poster-child for what every student athlete in college should be like: he had a full paid basketball scholarship that was offered to him in high school, myths say he was scouted as early as middle school but declined the offers more than twice (which meant that he was just that good.) To no surprise at all he was chosen as team captain during his sophomore year, and ever since, there was no basketball game ever lost. Now, it was fairly easy to assume that sports-heads like him flunked out of all their units and failed classes, but he didn’t. He took up an (extremely difficult) economics major and always kept his GPA high enough to be consistent on the Dean’s List. On occasion, the Dance club on campus would ask him to join some of their routines— and rarely, all the musical clubs would successfully get him to sing for formals. And the cherry on top of all that? He looked like he was personally sculpted by each of the gods, and don’t get fooled by that statement because he did get modeled by the art club once before.

So how was it that you took the same advanced Literature class? You didn’t know either, but you did share some of the same classes over the years. It’s just that you didn’t understand why he even took this class in particular; taking it up implied that your course probably really needed it, and by the looks of it he did not need this one at all.

It wasn’t like you were complaining at all though, Jung Jaehyun was - unsurprisingly - your (now) long time crush. He was a year older school-wise, but because you were a merit scholar that took up higher level units you tended to run in the same places and college just happened to work like that anyway. Except you just weren’t really the kind to try and be as boisterously popular as he was. Around college, you played safe: having a particularly small circle of friends and keeping to focusing on your academics; it was hard enough to get here and you thought that you had to work much harder to stay. It wasn’t like you hated mankind, you were willing to talk to people to say the least, but you wouldn’t go out your way to try so hard and aim to become popular. Life wasn’t particularly kind to you over all the years so you decided to stick to a routine and stay there until college was over. That seemed much much better in order for you to keep yourself in check and make sure you landed in good graces after you graduated. Stability was the goal, after all.

The only real form of indulgence in a much simpler, much emotional side of your life was the little crush you developed on Jaehyun. Despite having boyfriends when you were in your teen years and having dates and flings here and there during college, you found that having this constant admiration for him was a way of getting out of the systematic funk you imprisoned yourself in. For the most part, it was an advantage that he was very popular and very much out of your league - it kept you away from biting at the forbidden fruit.

Besides, even if you did want to try and indulge in your feelings, you knew that you were always destined for normalcy, unlike he was. It was ironic how your feelings for him made you feel awfully different, but you didn’t dare want to act upon them.

Sad and disappointing, but it was the music you had to face.

That perfectly explains why you are seated a little bit at the back of the lecture room,  somehow closely aligned with where Jaehyun and his friends sat (near the front), your knees weak at the sight of him smiling— even from a distance— while he was having a casual conversation with Johnny Seo (who was taking up law, choosing to take this class as a prerequisite for something else) and Chittaphon (whom you knew very well because he was just a friendly guy, and you had some mutual friends.)

You were carefully dotting out bullet points down on your notebook when the professor to your class arrived, a little more lively and a little kinder than all the other professors you’ve encountered for such an advanced class. Miss Kim assigned another reading assignment essay but now about the story of Atlas since greek mythology was the bulk of this semester. The formatting was different though, it was to make reverse (sometimes, when you were fed up with having to do the paperwork, you called them ‘perversions’) of already popular analyses of the literary texts she selected.

“Y/N, Jaehyun, and Chittaphon..” A little pause was added by your professor in order to be able to look at the three names she called out for, “please stay behind after class.” And when the lecture was over, you sat still in your seat. Just your feet impatiently tapping at the wooden platform that made up the large seating of the lecture hall. There was an unnerving gap from you to the three other humans in the room, and it didn’t surprise you when your professor asked you to sit next to Jaehyun where Johnny vacated his seat.

With wobbly feeling legs, you decided not to protest— not like Jung Jaehyun would notice if you had any apprehensions, he was probably too popular and got all kinds of reactions all the time— but you were convinced that any sign of the stupid teenage crush you had on him was a sign too much and it could really give you away.

It was an internal agreement to yourself that you would not engage in any form of embarrassing yourself, and the only honest way that could happen is if you risked anything by letting anyone else know of your schoolgirl feelings. The thought crossed you multiple times: the idea of Jaehyun somehow finding out that his junior liked him, and you cringed at the possibility. 

For as long as you can remember, Jaehyun had a stream of admirers at his feet. You’d have thought that being in college would put a little bit of restrain toward all the girls and boys that flocked at games only to cheer him on - and the multiple times that one or two of them would run up to him and confess after he won a championship. You heard that all these stories ended up in the same way, just Jaehyun being kind enough to give them his number and having conversations with them until he broke the news that he simply wasn’t interested— fucker was kind enough to gracefully let them down. His admirers would visibly show their sadness around campus, going far enough to even praise Jaehyun for being the charitable guy he was by allowing them any opportunity at all. 

Meanwhile, you always opted to sit somewhere a little farther away for a better view when you watched his games, actually interested in the sport, but also just so you could be as far away as you could so no one would really notice how your brows furrowed and creased just a little deeper when the ball was passed to him - and each time he scored. You tucked yourself behind desks like you would nervously tuck the hair behind your ear when you were nervous being in the same environment as him. It was early on when you decided that you were just heavily drawn to him despite only hearing things of him and passing him by, and you agreed to be your own grinch and restrict yourself from getting hurt. That only meant you’d be kept off track of the routine you established. It was early on when you decided you didn’t want to be like everyone else who liked him, and it was mostly because you did not possess half the balls they did when they presented their feelings to him head on, but also because he was probably the only real physical metric you could use for basing the metric on ‘what was out of your own comfort zone.’ Being reduced to a kindness he would reject honestly scared you, and for four years it always seemed to leave a sizzling trace of constant doubt in yourself. You were never, in any way, meant to swim in the same seas he floated.

Taking the seat beside him, you angled your body away from him steering clear from his gaze, it kind of looked like you were creating some perpendicular angle but then you shifted to stop when you noticed that Chittaphon was about to laugh at how uncomfortable you looked; he knew you always had a difficulty blending in with people you were unfamiliar with since he tried multiple times to set you up with guys. He also had some slight idea that you thought Jaehyun was rather attractive, but he always assumed you acted the way you did because you were close to what he called “a college recluse.” Sitting up a little straighter, you decided to try and fake any form of confidence and pretend like he just didn’t exist. It was not possible for you to have any interaction anyway, despite the fact that he was maybe less than a foot away from you. His arm was loosely scrambled along the table, like it was meant to adorn it and make it look more attractive. Hairs were standing from behind your neck. God, was this uncomfortable but in some way making you bubble up inside with the fluffiest idea that he was so close.

“The three of you were the only ones to sign up for the year end trip to Thessaloniki for the advanced studies program. I’m sure you know this means that your grades have to be exceptional for these last few papers I’m letting you turn in for class.” Oh? Jaehyun also signed up for the trip to Greece? This prompted you into an internal scramble. He already did enough as it was and now he was also annoyingly interested in the extracurriculars you were interested in? This was brutal; there wasn’t getting away from this guy was there? Guess who was going to die in Greece? Yep, you.

You carefully nodded in your seat but you had to ask, “wait, I’m confused? Does this mean there’s some sort of screening process? You didn’t specify the amount of slots in the sign up sheet.” Chittaphon and Jaehyun were looking at you, but you got through and just avoided their gaze altogether. The sweat between your thighs made themselves unbearably known already, couldn’t he look away?

“No, no screening process. This is performance based, since you’re getting paid to go there and you are getting extra credit on the job.” You nodded, exhaling through your half opened mouth. It seemed fair enough, and you weren’t intimidated at all at the challenge. “You can pass your entries on Medusa on my desk while I fix up, you’re dismissed.” She instructed, and you were the first one to act upon this; wanting to get out of the room as quickly as possible. Your hands unstably flinging inside your bag to search for the paper in the portfolio you always kept neat. Unluckily for you, you didn’t notice this morning you placed the thing upside down, and your write-up on Medusa fell out. The only real skillful reflex you did have was realizing that your two all-nighters worth of discussion was going to flop somewhere unsanitary on the floor, and with that you never reached for something so quickly in your life.

It came to mind that you must have looked like a clown. As you tried your best to manage out of not completely looking like a fool in front of Jaehyun, you softly slammed the paper on the desk and sprinted out the lecture hall.

Jung Jaehyun, who was calmly standing behind you was sort of worried at the large stockpile of paperwork he saw you whip out from your bag. He never imagined any girl carrying that much stuff in what looked like a purse. It was an adorable quip, how he noticed you were always around just keeping your head plopped down in some book or the latest reading assignment, and a few moments ago you were making a mess out of skimming through a portfolio trying to look for your paper amongst the multitude of them. That was how he got his hands on a paper you decided not to pass in your social sciences class about the things you wanted to do before the semester ended, he wanted to give it back but you were too fast for him to catch up on.

-

Kim Doyoung had been pestering you all period just because you briefly mentioned that you finished the short essay for this social sciences class but decided to scrap it altogether and start fresh to write an entirely different one. He would have let it slide, but when you said you had (accidentally) printed it, he definitely wanted to read the initial one. The two of you were kind of close; the History major sharing relatively the same schedule (except for your Literature class and Creative Writing class.) Some unspoken rule between the two of you was to be seat mates for all the same subjects, but outside the lecture halls you two only passed each other in greeting. Coincidentally, he was on the basketball team as Jaehyun, which was more why you were too shy to really converse with Doyoung around campus: their little group stuck together like glue.

So it was a little odd, that he accompanied you walking out of class, adamant at reading this paper. The two of you settling on a shaded bench by the quad when you exited the languages building. “Okay, okay. Fine. But only this one time Doyoung, you aren’t allowed to read anything else of mine from now on.” You said in defeat, slinging your bag up front to be able to take out the painfully faithful portfolio you had.

“That’s a lie,” he rolled his eyes in such ‘Doyoung’ fashion unimpressed, he was trying to make it look like you were in the losing end but he actually enjoyed your work, “you actually enjoy my constructive criticism.”

You slapped him very quickly by the arm, “but that’s when we actually have to pass the papers I let you read!”

He rubbed at the spot, “ouch?”

Scrambling through the different colored sticky notes you used to organize each subject you took, it made your heart jump a little bit; you couldn’t find the fucking paper.

For some reason the first reason you could muster up in your head that this was some terrible joke that Doyoung had planned, trying to get you to look for this mysterious paper when actually he had it the entire time. It was because it couldn’t have been lost in your portfolio; the damn thing was always organized to a t, it wasn’t possible. “Doyoung, I swear if you had the paper this entire time and this is some joke—“

Someone towered over the sort of peace that you and Doyoung established, clearing their throat to make an entrance. Upon seeing who it was, your throat ran dry. You were a little bit used to being graced by Jung Jaehyun’s presence up close, but now that he most likely heard you throw a bitch fit to his friend, you were extremely flustered. Could it be possible to desiccate into nothing?

Knowing that he had probably approached you to steal away Doyoung, you found yourself running away from Jaehyun once again. Awkwardly offering a little bow, you went to any opposite direction that your body threw itself at.

Today was really your lucky day wasn’t it?

-

Two days later on a late Friday afternoon, you found yourself in the middle of a sea of people, only your friend Lisa accompanying you. There was a friendly game of basketball between your university and the neighboring one that was three blocks over, but a friendly game never meant that anyone would miss a chance at viewing probably one of the most attractive and (arguably) most skilled college basketball team ever— which meant that eighty percent of the population that was also watching were in it because Jaehyun’s team was hot, and the other twenty were here because they were interested because they knew it was going to be a good fight.

“Did you hear?” Lisa was basically shouting at you through all the mixed voices in the bleachers, “apparently the big leagues got word about our basketball team, the guys have been training harder than ever because they could just get a surprise visit from scouts of the big leagues.” She gossiped, and you were sure that this information probably came from Chittaphon because they were in the performing arts sector together - they both danced, and they were both Thai. Their friendship was cut out for them. Chittaphon did not play basketball, but he was part of -that- friend group.

“Good for them.” You tried to act like you cared about the information, but even if you did you knew they had it in the bag; they won every single championship every single year. (That you watched, of course.) The possibility of them landing far better spots as players in the future was undoubtable. Besides, you couldn’t show the teensy bit amount of concern you had for it— you never told Lisa about your little crush on Jung Jaehyun because after years and years of trying to get you to commit into serious feelings she ultimately failed. And this time around you couldn’t come into terms with telling her; you feared you wanted to just keep her believing that you were incapable of being interested with someone long term. Knowing her, she’d try to pull strings to put your feelings into action and that just made you uncomfortable.

The gap between the score of Jaehyun’s team and the neighboring university was impossible for the other team to catch up on. You noticed that there was really no match here, the boys from your university being kind enough to pretend and slip up to give grace points to the other team - you remember Doyoung telling some story about Jaehyun saying this to them during prep. If they knew the team had no match against them, they’d still allow them points in games, it was a form of respect to the game.

With the last few seconds in for the fourth quarter, Jaehyun was able to score another two-pointer. It was like theatre for him, and you noticed he did this all the time during games. In some sense, there was a flare of drama about having the crowd go wild for the final time until Jaehyun would we swept off the floor by his teammates. Johnny and Mark struggling to keep their team captain balanced because their heights didn’t correlate, Taeyong and Doyoung ending up just laughing.

That was what called it though, when everybody around you stood up to cheer Jung Jaehyun on and the buzzer went off. Then all the boys carried him up to put him down on the ground again. People seated on the bleachers made their way to walk to the court and give their congratulations, and some exiting the hot and sweaty court. Lisa knew that you’d prefer to wait it out a little bit because you disliked being lodged between so many bodies all at once. Of course, your eyes drifting toward your crush, a typical scene unfolding before your eyes.

Brianna Chang and her, very popular, group of sorority girls went up to Jaehyun. Brianna holding up a gigantic banner with his name on it; she was about to confess, like one of the many who have attempted to. You could visibly see Mark and Johnny hollering at the back— and this was mostly because Brianna was a very gorgeous girl and she got a lot of good credit. She was talking to Jaehyun, and when he gave her his dimply smile you simply snapped out of narrowing your gaze to get out of here. Why did you even care, right?

Throughout the years you’ve heard boys’ talk about who liked who and who liked what. Curiosity got the best of a lot of you, inevitably hurting yourself over the idea of Jaehyun’s apparent ideal type, and you were very true to yourself in knowing that you were extremely far from it. You weren’t the sporty type, of course you watched and were interested but never the type to actively play. You weren’t one of those model types either, always being a little more unnoticed and always sticking to your own style. It really was not the case that you minded not being as beautiful as everyone else was. Sure, your self-esteem deflated whenever you compared yourself (or in some cases got compared) to most of the prettier girls in campus, but it’s just that you did not at all feel the need to be competitive anyway. You tried blanketing your insecurities with unstable apathy where you thought that maybe ignoring it meant that you never really had to deal with it, and for some part it was true.

Cold air hit both you and Lisa as you exited, some burst of temperature making you feel a little melancholy inside. Being in the court bleachers in the humid atmosphere with your heart beat getting quicker and quicker with the sight of Jaehyun then going out to the sudden cold felt like a parallel at how you felt about him. You liked him, it wasn’t complicated. If it were a comparison at with how you felt for boys before, it was a difficult one to make. Liking Jaehyun from a distance meant that you just liked him, no perfect explanation, it was just that he made you feel warm inside - and it seemed that every single time you got close enough, your stomach churned and cried a time out. Either way, it was easily identifiable to say it was difficult to like somebody and not really understand why, you could give a million reasons why he was outwardly perfect, but you didn’t know enough about why he made you feel so deep. Especially since the person you liked was Jung Jaehyun.

“Let’s to grab a drink.” Lisa gave you puppy eyes as she grabbed at your forearm with both her hands, she knew you wouldn’t easily budge.

Pretending that you were actually thinking about it, she stomped at the ground. You actually had nothing coming up for you for the weekend, and it was a Friday night after all. Perhaps you would allow her this one time. After all, you seldom went out. And right now you wanted to erase the pit burying itself into you, seeing Jaehyun being confessed to by such a great girl - you wanted to drown yourself in liquid sorries to try and remind yourself that you had no right at all to feel this way. “Okay.” Your friend emitted a high pitched squeal, the rare occurrence surprising her.

It was decided that you’d go to one of the quieter bars on campus that served artisan beer; as there was only the two of you, there wasn’t a need to really party. This bar was a ‘safe zone’ as you’d label it; having gone here a couple times and never seeing the guy you admired, you knew you didn’t have to be nervous at the possibility of him busting through those doors. For the past two days, you noticed that he always seemed to call for Doyoung; Jaehyun entering the lecture hall for your social sciences class to which your response was to go away as quickly and discretely as you could. Failing at the ‘discrete’ part, always.

Picking at the fries you ordered, Lisa began to shoot some questions at you, “so how are things?”

You shrugged, mental capacity a little wary at the moment. “The usual, worrying about the extra credit things I signed up for. I’m not so intimidated about the Greece trip, but I want to be exceptional.”

Your relaxed state of sitting lazily on the barstools with your jackets hanging from them was disturbed when Chittaphon practically appeared from nowhere, wrapping him arms between both of you and Lisa - trying to occupy the very little space there was between the stools.

“Still fretting about academics, Y/N? Isn’t it like a Friday night? Aren’t you supposed to be drinking?” He teased, obviously overhearing what you had said.

“Am I not allowed to be passionate?” You retorted.

“That, yes. But overworked? No, I don’t think you should be.” You gave him a sour face, and he laughed. “I’m just kidding, booky.”

“What are you doing here anyway?” Lisa asked him.

“Just out, I was hoping to run into people I knew.” There was a hint of sarcasm somewhere there, but as far as you could see he was alone. “You guys should join me, sitting on the bar counter isn’t fun! It’s all cramped up.” He offered, and you weren’t in the slightest inclined to say no to Chittaphon. After all, you had a lot of fun moments with him and Lisa was here too.

So the three of you transferred to a table that gave some sort of night view, and you could see the appeal that he was trying to get at. A stable conversation about their next performance came up, Chittaphon trying to explain to you how delicate interpretative dance was— and how one of his juniors, Sicheng, was very skilled at the traditional Chinese dance.

Hollering noise distracted you for a split second, your eyes drifting to the bar entrance because you were honestly a little bit annoyed at being interrupted; you enjoyed listening to Chittaphon’s stories because you didn’t really get the opportunity to go out and talk.

Your lucky streak was apparently still alive, because you knew what it meant that Johnny Seo was loudly leading a pack of sweaty boys into the establishment— that Jung Jaehyun was really most likely there with them.

You knew you loved being creative, but you swore it was cinematic the way Jaehyun entered beside Nakamoto Yuta, the tips of his hair just a teensy bit damp and his hands finding themselves running through them to shake the strands off.

Guess who was royally fucked when Chittaphon waved at his group of his friends to come over?

So much for ‘hoping to run into people he knew.’

-

The possibility of comfortability was really thrown out the window when Doyoung forced you to switch seats with Taeyong so that he could sit next to you, but Taeyong wanted to be in a ‘talking vicinity’ with Doyoung, leaving the other seat next to you vacant. Some of the other boys went straight to the bar to see what expensive liquor bottle was available, Yukhei shouting “victory party” ten times over.

Good for you, that you were left with your two original companions with the addition of Doyoung and Taeyong. Even better, you were probably six or seven shots of whiskey in enough to have your nerves loosen up a bit.

“Can I sit here?” Never did you imagine he’d ever speak more than an ‘excuse me’ to you, and you were pretty sure it was you he was talking to. Doyoung and Taeyong were engaged in a conversation, and Jung Jaehyun was looking directly at you.

Were you drunk enough to hallucinate? It was time to find out.

You swallowed at nothing; nervous to the point where your mouth ran dry, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.” Overthinking as to why he decided to sit next to you when there were practically ten more chairs that were vacant. He sat down, his hands intertwined at the fingers as he lay them down cooly on the surface of the table. Jaehyun was glancing at you, his adam’s apple bobbing once but really obviously.

“Thank you.” He murmured, and you hoped he would admit that he found this awkward too. His lips were settled on a thin line, and his eyes were just a little bit more wide than you thought fit normal. It was way easier if he decided to sit somewhere else and for you to not sit through potential awkward small talk. It felts as if this was as awkward for him as it was for you.

“Congratulations on the win by the way.” You and your bloody mouth, “but it wasn’t like it weren’t an obvious one.” Your habit of babbling your way out of not actually not wanting him to leave the seat and vacate.

He chuckled a bit, and those dimples and the wrinkles that followed. God, your heart was crippling in your chest, he just looked so surreal. “You don’t have to flatter me, you know.”

It was your turn to give a little laugh. “I think I’m considerate enough not to lie, especially when I’m actually trying to compliment you.” Okay, maybe you had enough to drink to not be threatened by the idea that this was the first real conversation you’ve ever had with Jaehyun.

“Well then, congratulations on being you then, Y/N.”

Your heart thumped hard at that, and you didn’t even know what that meant. So your brows curled into some sort of confusion as you took a quick shot of the alcohol Lisa asked to be presented to you.

“I honestly don’t know what that means Jung Jaehyun, but I’ll accept it like you should mine.” Your cheeks felt warmer, as blood rushed to the skin on your face you hoped he thought it was because of the whiskey. You were definitely turning into a tomato head.

He opened his mouth to speak, a clicking sound being made by his tongue on contact to the roof of his mouth. “I find it weird how I never talked to you like this.” He coughed. “You know, since we have so many mutual friends.” He used his index finger to point at the array of rowdy boys who finally decided to settle down and take seats.

Oh god, he was the one to point that out.

“Well, I mean, these guys only talk to me when it’s class-related.” You joked and Doyoung sort of overheard his forehead crumpling in a fit of disagreement, but then he did not intervene.

Jaehyun found this entertaining and smiled, close to some degree of laughter. “We’ve taken the same classes for years though.”

You pouted, trying to come up with a very good reason in your head. “That’s beside the point, it is quite difficult to try and be casual with just because we have shared the same subjects.” Trying to take a proper look at him, he simply stared back at you. Any shy, logical human being with a proper conscience and responsibility of dignity would stop there. Carry on, and try to convince the other boys to join your conversation. Except that right now in the state you were in, you were not at all a shy logical human being. “Wait are you, perhaps, guilt tripping me?”

“Yes, maybe a little.” He beamed, a smile appearing on his face as he sipped on a beer concoction that looked monstrous. You’ve caught him.

“What do you want me to talk to you about then?” You almost whispered.

He took his hands and laid his elbows down so he could balance his head on his hands, the angle tilted. You never really understood what it meant to have your heart clogged up at the base of your throat, but with this proximity and the kindness of the closeness of Jung Jaehyun— maybe it was what it meant. How was it easy to believe that we were all created in fair and in equal likeness when the warm lights hit the angles of his face perfectly. No awkward shadowed crevice, he was just glowing. “You write, right? Talk to me about writing, Creative Writing major.”

“Why would I need to talk to you about that, aren’t you in my 502 for Literature?” You took your hands and flattened them on top of the table, feeling what was left of the cold where all the iced up glasses were placed.

“How else can I be friends with you?” With squished cheeks, Jaehyun sounded like he was mumbling.

Raising your eyebrows to show your confusion, you wondered. “Why would you want to be my friend?”

It never registered to you, this possibility. Ever. You knew for the longest time that this was a hopeless admiration that probably wouldn’t get anywhere aside from the encounters in class and the distant viewing at games, no more than normal words that strangers would say when they would pass each other. But maybe because you always denied yourself hope because you looked at Jaehyun in Literature and thought that he was so much different: he wasn’t as loud as Yukhei that you could mess around and jab jokes at, wasn’t as easy going as Johnny who complimented the outfits you wore (to which you complimented him back), wasn’t as flamboyant as Chittaphon who was obviously close to you, wasn’t as shameless as Doyoung who constantly bugged you in your major class, and definitely wasn’t as ‘bro’ as Mark— whatever he meant by that. Jaehyun was always just there, perfect, and at times one could say godly. He was too good to touch, too good to have any courage for you to pick up on and even start anything.

Perplexing, how you were even in this fiasco in the first place when moments ago you were practically steaming at Brianna Chang.

“Does it sound unfair if I told you it’s kind of because I feel left out?” He sat up straight to cup at the nape of his neck.

How were you to respond if his words were dripping honesty and your cheeks were burning at every small shift in his actions?

You were a little drunk, a lot bit, maybe drunk - maybe it meant that you could be casual, or you were now overthinking. You were going to vomit words. “Dummy, you aren’t left out at all?” His version of a reaction was to raise both his eyebrows, willing to listen to the rest of what you had to say. “Anyway, you’re popular, Jaehyun. There are probably hundreds of people who’d want to be your friend just off the bat, you’re remotely everywhere. I think I should be the one to feel left out in this table.” The coordination between your speech and your head slowed down a bit, the words slurring between pauses. Jaehyun would correctly assume that you were intoxicated, but you wouldn’t forget how intent he looked at you and how he seemed to carefully process the things you had said.

“It doesn’t mean that I want to be friends with any of them. Most of them only like me for being Jaehyun, the team captain of a basketball team of a game they don’t really pay attention to. Some of them even have the nerve to talk shit about me and how I do in court but say all the nicest things when I’m in front of them. I’m like a clout bag everybody’s trying to break bank with, and I hate to sound this narcissistic, but I’d rather not be friends with any of them.”

Back stiffening at his response you nod, “I think I get it, I wouldn’t either.” But then you decided to make an entire spin at what you were saying. “Really though, me? I don’t think there’s anything striking about me. To say you want to be friends with somebody implies that, and there is nothing to imply.”

He hummed as he tried to think of something. “I mean, you’re different.” His face was messed up in a contortion of sourness, and he was very good at masking it up as confusion to answer. Jaehyun tried to open his mouth to say more but you shushed him. You thought you could never be more embarrassed, but the fact that he had nothing else to give you but a sour face and a vague answer made you want to disappear from here like you have from him for the past two days.

“You really don’t have to say anything else.”

Jaehyun completely switches the awkward part. “Back to what you were saying earlier, I’ll make you feel less left out then if you agree that we’re a little bit closer at being friends?”

“I can’t stop you if you really want to.” With this, he beamed and it physically hurt you to see him smile as brightly as he did.

To save you from yourself, but eventually not really, Wong Yukhei pulled you away to test your strength as beer pong. He asked the bar to pull out their game table and you already knew you were going to die tonight.

-

There was no recollection of ever getting to bed last night, or rather, ever getting home. The car sounds outside kind of beat you to it though, and the smell of the familiar dust that streamed through the windows. You got home last night, and it confused you enough to scramble up and look for any trace of clues that would explain why you were safe the very next morning. The last sure memory you had was puking on some random sidewalk outside the bar, and that was pretty much it.

A notification bell sound from your phone came in perfect timing, you received a text from a contact name you don’t ever remember saving.

Friend: Are you awake? (7:32am)

Friend: Oh, nevermind you must be asleep you were practically destroyed last night (7:33am)

Friend: I’ll stop texting now in case that woke you up, go back to sleep (7:35am)

Doyoung, Lisa, and Chittaphon definitely had their numbers saved on your phone, so this could be someone you were with last night. Yukhei probably? No, the two of you were as far away from touching phones last night since you crushed the guy in beer pong - but it definitely saved him the chance of being a little more sober than you were. It couldn’t be Mark or Johnny because they definitely were puzzled in their own dumb arguments about the creation of the Nintendo for the entire night. On the off chance that this was Jaehyun, why was he texting you?

Landing your palm to your forehead, you just remembered. ‘Friend,’ he thought he could be sly and have that as his name on your phone.

You: friend? really? are you? (7:41am)

Friend: Caught up on that huh? 😏 (7:42am)

You: it’s the only non formal name on my phone 😒 besides we aren’t friends yet (7:45am)

Were you actually teasing Jung Jaehyun?

Jaehyun ‘Friend’: Okay then, I’ll have to work for that title ☹️ (7:47am)

Jaehyun ‘Friend’: How’s your hangover? (7:47am)

You: terrible (7:48am)

You: i meant to ask,, how’d we exchange numbers? and how did i get home (7:50am)

You: assuming you weren’t as drunk (7:50am)

Jaehyun ‘Friend’: You said you were scared of Night Crawlers chasing us so you asked me to bring you to your apartment, and I told you to give me your phone to put my number in and get yours (7:53am)

It felt embarrassing now, but you were relieved that you didn’t profess your love for Jaehyun on the way home and that you didn’t make a gigantic mess of yourself. It was nice of him to bring you back home even if you were practically just acquaintances.

You: oh. thanks n sorry (7:54am)

Jaehyun ‘Friend’: That’s the goal (7:55am)

Admittedly, it stung a little bit to only be ‘friends’ with Jaehyun. For what it was worth, it did matter that you were at least able to have this kind of interaction with him now anyway. What was there to complain about when the impossible was happening.

-

When Monday rolled around two days later, you were sure that there wasn’t any trace of alcohol left in your system but somehow you still felt and looked like shit. Thanks to the prolonged suffering you experienced, you promised yourself never to drink that much again. And never allow Yukhei to challenge you in a drinking sport; you were just far too competitive to prove him wrong. But you still had electrolyte water placed on the desk of your table in your Literature class, thankful that your choice of wearing sunglasses indoors was not super distracting because you sat at the back. You were typing away for another class requirement through sweater paws of your large sweater, waiting for your professor to come around to try to be efficient with the time.

“You still look like a mess.” You didn’t expect Jaehyun to walk up to your seat, but there he was anyway. The insides of your cheeks would really raw out if he didn’t stop approaching you like this, because you kept on chewing them when you had no idea what to say. After he texted you, you two briefly talked about your recovery to sobriety and all the papers you were worried about. Now, it was hard to act like you did not mind everybody else in class who noticed that he made it out his way to go to where he didn’t normally go to.

“So many doses of Tylenol later.” You huffed, looking at the cursor of your laptop and not coming up with anything. You kept your eyes glued on the screen, the mere presence of Jaehyun bothered you. “I think this is alcohol poisoning.”

“Well, that’s what you get for not eating much over the weekend.” He remembered the details of your texts, always seeming to answer no when he asked you if you had a real proper meal.

You reeled your lips in to make a thin line, “you should know by now that attending to basic needs in this college environment is a sin, Jaehyun. I really would rather not fail.”

He looked unimpressed at the analysis. “Don’t you have one of the highest grades for your course level already?”

“You could say, but I want to push myself more.”

A ‘tsk’ left his mouth, “what’s it worth when you won’t take care of yourself?”

“Starving.” You shot back.

“Tell you what,” he didn’t challenge your tone, but kept it quieter and gentler, “there’s this good chinese restaurant I go to when I want to get rid of terrible hangovers. Let’s grab dinner later. After this class maybe?” You wanted to spit out all the electrolyte water onto his perfectly baby blue shirt. It was one thing to go out and coincidentally catch up on a conversation with Jaehyun, and another when he was practically asking you out to be alone over dinner.

You had to breathe; his goal was to be just friends. “I have Social Sciences after this class,” was a way to try and shoot his offer down as kindly as you could, you were sure you would fuck up if you gave him a definite yes. You didn’t want to sound too desperate.

“I can wait by the quad until you’re done. I have your number.” As if he already knew you were going to say something else to get out of having dinner with him, he ran down the steps to sit back up front where he usually would. Your professor had arrived now.

After your last class Doyoung walked out with you again, complaining about the workload you had just received after passing a ten page essay analysis on a random country’s culture.

“It’s just honestly so annoying!” He complained, lips turning to an upset curve.

From a distance you could see Jaehyun standing by one of the big trees, his hands halfway through each of his pockets. He was looking at you, and you had to slow down when you were nearing him.

“Hello.” You whispered to Jaehyun, taking a step closer to him.

Doyoung, a little alarmed, stepped back. “Am I interrupting something?” He asked, and you laughed.

“Just dinner,” you tried to explain, “Jaehyun and I are having dinner.” The phrase felt odd when it left your tongue.

“Just dinner, huh?” Doyoung was on to something, and it was pretty obvious what he was trying to assume. You could only wish that his assumption was the case.

“Just dinner.” Jaehyun said, nodding. He looked at you and looped his arm around your own, “and then we’re getting married.” That made your brain do an entire backflip, Doyoung didn’t laugh either - he found this weird. But Jaehyun wanted to make his joke obvious. “Doyoung, you psycho.”

“Have fun on your date then.” Doyoung skipped away.

A tiny cough left Jaehyun’s throat, the sudden realization that the two of you were now alone made it awfully warm all over your face. Your arms were still looped, and neither one of you bothered to awkwardly untangle limbs.

“Shall we?” Using his free hand, he pointed toward the other exit and you nodded.

Much like what happened when Jaehyun approached you, everybody was staring. Of course, some people could care less in a situation like this - but it felt as if everyone was intent on knowing why you were arm in arm with Jung Jaehyun, intent on dissecting you with their eyes and picking at how you were in the wrong for a simple action. The boy you were tangled in with of course, did not seem to care at all. Even in the most awkward fashion of walking, he seemed to glow with the way the sunset colored him a warm tone. He was used to all the eyes eating him alive, and you couldn’t understand how he did so.

The last time Jung Jaehyun had a girlfriend was when you were in your third year of college, which was a year ago. To say that you didn’t care at the time, was a lie. You basically drowned yourself in 1800’s classical symphonies to the tune of your unreasonable sobbing, ice cream staining the dog ears of your review materials for a few weeks. Advantageous in some sense, the few of your friends thought you were a wreck because of midterms. You promised to yourself that you would get the highest marks and get over the pent up three years you kept in your breast pocket, just a little above your heart. Until you realized, your crush couldn’t go away even if you couldn’t compete with girlfriend - somehow your heart couldn’t surrender. Kristen Sy was the student body president, in her fifth year she managed to finally be the girlfriend of the team captain of the school’s basketball team. For years, and every single school occasion that required the gathering of the student body, people always paired the two together. Intramural awards, department representatives— even when people were going on nonstop confessing to Jung Jaehyun— it was the most perfect idea to put the most perfect guy and the most ideal girl into a couple. On the last semester of the year, you clearly remember during an assembly, Jaehyun making it official by unusually standing by her side during announcements. When asked kindly by some of the hopeful girls in the campus paper, they both confirmed they were really seeing each other. Did it really surprise you? No; perfect people were meant for other perfect people.

Even when they broke up, everyone started to speculate the worst or the mildest reason why they did. But Jaehyun looked like he was doing well, and in every single situation he was in he seemed to be.

The restaurant was cozy, a little bit spacious, enough to make it feel intimate. You were pouring yourself black tea when you realized it was far too quiet between the two of you.

“Progress report for Thessaloniki?” Jaehyun asked you.

“Oh yeah, you signed up for that too.” It came in late realization. Your fingertips played a game of fake piano as the ceramic acted as the only barrier between you poking through the warmth of the drink. “Why did you sign up for it?”

“There’s a little back story to it. I actually just took the class for extra credit purposes, it would look good on paper to have finished Literature. You kind of have to study culture and understand it in Economics, and this is surprisingly an easy way to understand it. I liked the idea of going somewhere to get to learn it better.”

“Why not stick to the more technical social sciences then, I mean, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

He shook his head. “I won’t fall in love with it that way,” some time to gain some thought, “I can connect to it better through passages like the ones we do in class.”

“I get it.” There wasn’t more to say than that, it was a pretty obvious difference you could grasp with his comparison. “For the trip to Greece, I think I’ve been passing really mediocre papers so my performance isn’t quite well as what I want.”

“Mediocre,” he pulled at the word, prolonging his syllables, “that’s how you described the paper you wrote on Anna Karenina. The same one that got called out in class for rejecting the suggested format, but still got an almost perfect mark.”

“It was mediocre though, anyone could have thought of what I wrote of.” You tried to say it as if it were the most obvious flaw.

“On the contrary, when I read it, I thought it was very good. You completely changed the way I looked at the entire plot.” He pondered upon it deeply. “I never looked at love that way.”

“How did you get your hands on that thing anyway?” You were trying to make the conversation a little less tense.

“Well you gave Chittaphon a copy of it after he had asked you to, and a printed copy was laying around in his dance studio when he asked me to practice with him after class. I couldn’t help but want to know what the fuss was about with the winning paper.”

“You talk about it like it’s a contest entry for the state fair.” You laughed.

He only smiled back though, “I want to talk about it like it’s a critically acclaimed piece.”

Through dying laughter you exhaled deeper breaths. “Well if you enjoy it that much then thank you.”

“You’re something else, really.” He said and your heart swole.

After dinner, the two of you were just walking through the semi-busy streets, no one declaring the want to go home. It was significantly colder than you would like; the year just started and the January breeze was gliding by, the days of snow were gone. Dressed not quite appropriately not expecting to have dinner tonight, you were quite cold.

“It’s so cold.” You commented just when he called for a time out to walk to the park.

Leaves on the trees were dancing in their place among the branches, and you could barely hear the bustle of the cars now. Only dark blue light contrasting itself through where you were, they were probably going to turn the park lights on soon. The night felt magical through the shivers of your legs, it was cold but the company of Jaehyun was enough to make you patient.

Placing one of his jackets on your shoulders, you could feel it droop down from the weight. “Here.” He said gently. It was warm warm warm, with hints of lavender and vanilla. Scents you could never imagine being together were even harmonious when he wore it. A petty argument would be brought up if you opposed his kind offer at lending his jacket, and you knew the most normal instinct of a ‘friend’ would be to tell him that you were fine and you didn’t need it, but Jaehyun always claimed that he cared about your welfare to the most minuscule problem he seemed to notice you fretted about. So you wrap it closer around your body and whisper a silent thank you to him.

The only way you were falling was deeper, and deeper.

“Aren’t the trees fascinating?” You ask him, and he looks a little confused as he looks at the strange arrangement of the branches - twisting turning, straight rigid, everywhere all at once. He listens, enough to know when to wait to utter words - this you’ve learned so far. It hurts you somewhere, how he can be so drawn to your words and how he can grant you the gift of lending his ears. “They go through cycles, and they grow and they grow and they grow, all that and they only have life to give.”

To that he still doesn’t respond, you could see the formation of clouds from his mouth - all from the contrast of the heart of his breath to the cold of the night.

“I wrote a piece about trees when I was five, all the lines were in different stupid colors. ‘The trees will grow the trees will die, the trees go bald but they never cry.’” Jaehyun laughs at your sampling.

“Why won’t you come up with things like that again? Challenge the open mic for the poetry club?” He humorously suggests.

“And risk my head at the mercy of Taeil’s wrath?” The poetry club president. “I wouldn’t dare. Plus, I haven’t stopped writing like that anyway.”

He raised a brow. “Oh really?” You dig your hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, squeezing through.

“Yeah, only now I have the means to make it sound more— how do I put this?”

“Real? Feeling?” He guesses, and you nod.

“Bingo.” You give him finger guns, and he gives one back. You really couldn’t be any less of an idiotic fuck of a nerd when he was around, but you were relieved he just went with it.

“I want to read more of what you write.” He expresses out of nowhere when the park lights became brighter, illuminating one of the main exit points.

“Odd choice of what to read, but okay.” You don’t want to question it. “I have a lot of my stuff compiled in my apartment, I could hand some over to you if you’d like.”

He smiles, beams almost, like he’s a child you’ve gotten the largest gift for the holidays. “Really?” It’s unbelievable how he looks like he doesn’t believe you at all. “Won’t that be too much of a hassle to take out of all your files?” He was doing that thing of refusal you forced yourself not to do when he gave you his jacket.

Realizing you wanted to pay back the same amount of kindness, you hatch up the most stupid idea you have probably ever come up with for a long time. “You could come over when you want to.”

“Now then? What about going there now?” He acted like a puppy, you knew you had a somewhat good sense of control but it seemed that in the presence of Jaehyun you just couldn’t say no.

“Only if you promise not to tell me how dirty my place is.” You pleaded.

-

It was Thursday night when you heard knocking on your door. Coffee was spilt all over your kitchen counter, you were in the middle of cleaning it up from accidentally knocking your cup over earlier. “Just a minute!” Huffing over the coffee staining your notes, you gave up and decided the surface was probably dry enough for you to continue studying anyway.

You were surprised when Jung Jaehyun was standing in your doorway when you opened the door. He held up two boxes of takeout and gave his dimply smile, “good evening.”

A little bit puzzled, you asked. “I thought I told you I’d be studying tonight.”

“And you did say you couldn’t go out to have dinner. So I thought that you wouldn’t be having dinner too anyway.” He explained as he let himself in and you were left to wonder.

Yes, you still very much like Jung Jaehyun, but the level of comfortability he’s built up over the past two weeks after he asked you to have Chinese food with him has gone too quickly for you to even process. Even now when he was setting his shoes just by your ‘welcome’ mat and placing his things in the usual places. The first time he entered your small living space of an apartment, he didn’t say much. Only noticing how many pieces of paper were stacked up in piles, haphazard wastelands of literary texts and worn out books were neatly but messily put down in any surface you could utilize.  He could only say so little when you gave him early pieces you wrote down with angry pens in high school, some works you used to perform at local poetry events, and some works you had just been finished with. It meant something when his forehead creased in concentration, his eyes following every line as his hands gripped on the gritty pieces of paper - you took a mental note when he told you that this meant he was focusing on something and he was probably trying his hardest to understand whatever he was focused on. However, you only noticed that it was the same kind of face he wore in the critical moments of his own games: when the timer would be a few minutes into closing a quarter, or when the other team would catch up on points. The same face he used when he came up with a plan.

For the past two weeks that took Jung Jaehyun to officially become your friend, he persistently asked you to go out for dinner— and in instances that you declined, he ended up in your small apartment after practice and would insist on getting food delivered - wanting to watch one of the vintage tapes you kept of old films. Some of your friends couldn’t fathom the idea of just how casual your friendship with Jaehyun became; one day you two didn’t even bat an eyelash at each other around them and the other they just couldn’t relate in conversation when you and Jaehyun spoke. Doyoung had jabbed at the idea that there was something romantic going on between the two of you, to which you had immediately denied out of the sheer possibility that you were going to expose the little crush you had on Jaehyun.

“I’m convinced you’re going to lose a ton of money buying me dinner all the time.” You sighed at him as he set up the boxes of food he bought for the two of you, bundling up the free chopsticks in the drawer you had for utensils— now it was an overflowing collection, reminding you how often he came by just to buy you takeout.

“I get dinner allowances from my scholarship, it’s really no big deal.” He reasoned out, getting himself a glass of water. “Besides, I enjoy buying you dinner.” You blushed but not enough for him to notice, hopefully.

Chinese food was a tradition now, you’ve slowly accepted the idea that this was now your form of comfort food. More like, it was your new form of comfort food because the company was comforting. Even when silence swallowed you when there was nothing to say, there was this wringing feeling you felt whenever he was around to laugh with half a mouthful of food.

You shrugged, an immediate bodily response. “Well, if you insist.” Sitting down on your chair to get back to reading your notes, Jaehyun gently slid your box over to you.

This goes on for a while, he sits across you from where you sit by the kitchen counter. He asks you how your day was even if you did see each other in class earlier, and then he proceeds to ask you about what you were going on a storm about. Your words are always quiet, perfectly pronounced around the teething sounds— it’s some way to act upon the strange feeling of nervousness that climbs upon you whenever you’re around him; afraid to say something wrong or uninteresting. Sometimes, you think Jaehyun is too kind for his own good. There’s always been some sort of suspicion to how interested he seems when he listens, sometimes you think he is too charitable. Anyone who smiled like Jaehyun, and made people feel they way they did when Jaehyun smiled would probably think the same.

When you finish your dinner in defeat, stomach full and patting at your tummy Jaehyun’s expression deflates.

“Are you busy tomorrow after your classes?” It is not like this is a new question, when it comes out of his mouth to ask you of your availability.

Tomorrow would be a Friday? “If this is an alcohol related question, then I’ll have to pass.” It was a recurring joke. The two of you agreed you could take on an extensive amount of alcohol, but when you did you couldn’t handle the hang overs. Jaehyun joked that you drank like an alcoholic teen but suffered like a middle-aged man, and you couldn’t stop laughing when he made the comparison.

He chuckled to this response too, “no, I’m not asking you to drink.” He said as he folded the paper food box. “Well, at least not for a long time... I meant to ask you if you wanted to watch our practice tomorrow?” He scratched at the back of his neck, and you were sure that he was unsure of what he was asking.

“You mean basketball practice, right?” You were confused, but more on the idea that he was asking you to go and watch him and his team practice - no real thing to actually do there but sit on the benches. Did this mean anything though? It felt that the friendship you agreed on was a little bit more domestic if it made sense that way. Dinner, conversations, and now this was thrown into the table.

“You can ask Lisa to come, I’m sure Ten will tag along if you ask nicely too.” Oh, so maybe there it was. When Jaehyun sounded much clearer it probably meant that he just wanted you to tag your friends along. It made sense though, maybe Lisa was his type, or maybe he felt more comfortable with you when you were with your friends.

You still couldn’t understand, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to act shy and not tackle your assumptions head on. “Do you want me to ask them to come with you? Is this like a group thing?” The pitch in your voice going up as you finished asking.

“Oh. I didn’t mean it like that.” He said hurriedly.

You could only reply with your eyebrows knitting together. For someone who over analyzed plot and text and author intentions, with Jaehyun you could never put two and two together.

“Only if you feel like you’re going to be uncomfortable with being alone, that’s what I meant.” He eased his way to speech.

“I’ll be fine even without company,” you said with a tiny hint of a smile, “but that’s only if you make sure you impress me.”

-

Things worked out according to Jaehyun’s favor.

That is, when you walked in the school gym, the same one you had gone to to watch most of Jaehyun’s games, you were alone. The other boys did not seem too shocked to see you there, they were probably informed you were coming.

“Hey Y/N.” Yukhei greeted as you ran into him on the way inside, he was wearing the hood of his jacket up and he had his hands in his pockets. He didn’t look as mangy and as wild as he would if you saw him anywhere else aside from the court. You received the same greeting more or less from the rest of the boys, Doyoung going the extra mile and rubbing on the hair of your head with his knuckles. Jaehyun wasn’t here yet, apparently. The person who invited you was late to their own practice game. Just when you thought that he’d be late for longer, you could hear the squeaking sounds of running across the gym floor - the friction creating the shrill sound of Jaehyun’s arrival.

He runs to you, placing both his gym bag and his school bag by your feet. “Sorry I’m late.” Jaehyun mutters.

“It’s not me you’ve kept waiting.” You pointed at the rest of the boys who were doing warm up shoots by the ring. On the contrary, if you meant what you said in a deeper context, you were lying. Sometimes when he skipped over you before Literature class would start or when he’d text you to ask if you were free in the evening (you still didn’t understand why he’d repeatedly ask you, he knew that you weren’t the busy type and you always said that it was okay for him to come over or for you to catch up on dinner— except yesterday when you said you needed to study) - you felt time consume at all the possible opportunities. If you were being very honest, you’ve waited for him for about four years now. Even when you two were friends, it’s like you were waiting for him to figure you out like the way he’d figure out those fucking annoying equations he solved for his finance class. You wondered why he was terrible at the rhetoric of deciphering emotion when you knew on your own that you were terribly obvious.

He only smiles, his eyes a little wider, he was hopeful you’d come and you did. Running to the court, you only watched feeling your heart sink. Another thing about Jaehyun was that he kept his promises. You already knew for sure that Jaehyun was a really good athlete, but when you had challenged him to impress you there he was: continuously making dunks at the ring as if it was nothing, while the rest of the boys were already tired. It’s been about an hour and a half of you quietly observing in the background, tempted to snag a book from your bag and read a couple of chapters, but Jaehyun was taking glances once in a while so you had to really play the part of paying attention to every little detail of their warm up game.

Johnny Seo was bending his back down his palms on his knees as he breathed heavily, “time out dude.”

Mark who was jogging across to grab a water bottle might as well look the same as Johnny. “Yeah, I’m like, about to collapse.”

A smile was still sitting on Jung Jaehyun’s face, sweat collecting at his forehead. Then you realized you’ve never seen him not smile, he’s always been an epiphany of happiness. And it radiated, all the damn time. Except, something about witnessing him now made it look like he was just a little extra happier than normal. Jaehyun made a final three pointer, then he came running to you. He took a hoodie out of his gym bag to wear, the hood covering his head just for a few seconds.

“Could you pass me my bottle?” He pointed at the poor, fallen down thing by your feet. To which you picked it up and handed over to him, hands only brushing for a brief second. Skin-ship was never really established between you and Jaehyun, always just brief glances of eyes, whispered distances of awkwardness— two feet spaces your kitchen counter provided, a table apart in restaurants. You were lying if you’d say that you never wanted to actually do something about the palpitating distance you always laid out, it was an obnoxious obstacle that reminded you that you could only do so little. In your head it felt right if you were the cool and laidback female friend that would only casually talk to Jaehyun, a tinge of iciness to sequester yourself as that.

“You should work a little bit more on your wrist, it kinda loses aim when you swing.” He could see you through the weird angle as he took gulps of his water.

Surprised when his chin retracted back down he asks. “Oh? You noticed? Thing has been bothering me since the last game.” He swung his arm around.

You teased. “Yeah it was a little obvious during the second quarter, maybe you should try using a wrist curler.”

“Since when did you get into sports?” He plopped down next to you, you could practically feel how the heat radiated off of him.

Doyoung intervened, placing a foot by one of the benches. “She’s actually really into sports, but she can’t play for shit.” Taking ballpoint pen from your pocket, you threw it at your friend. “Ow!” Jaehyun was laughing beside you, clutching at his stomach against the loose grey hoodie he wore over his jersey.

“Actually, I think that basketball is very interesting.” You commented. “That’s the only real reason why I ever attend your games.” Lie, it was also because you wanted to see him.

“Oh, you do? I don’t think any of us have actually ever noticed you attend though?” Johnny swept in to be part of the conversation as well, a quizzical look on his face as he dried his hair off with a little face towel.

“I notice her,” Jaehyun answered, and you wanted to choke on air if it were remotely possible at all, “she waits for the crowd to subside before she leaves. Always sits at the back.” So he really does notice you.

Johnny shoots a funny look at you, “always the back sitter, Y/N.”

“At least I don’t block the entire row, you ten foot monster.” Johnny deflates but everyone else laughs at your come back.

After everybody decided that it was getting late and that they were tired, you found walking out into the cold with Jaehyun when the other boys split ways.

“Let’s get dinner.” It was thrown around as a reminder that you weren’t left alone during your evenings anymore because he was always with you. Though, it was a little late into the evening now and you were sure the regular places you went to were closed at this time.

“Where?” You wondered aloud.

Jaehyun hummed, “we’ll find a place.”

This time around, you were actually in his car’s passenger seat. Normally you would have walked somewhere, but apparently when they had basketball practices he would bring his car to school because he’d be too tired to think about walking or commuting back home. Surprisingly, his car smelt like generic air freshener - it wasn’t how you would picture it like. You imagined an array of extra clothing be piled in the backseat, or maybe stray CD cases on the floor. Instead it was neat, like he just bought the thing. He was a good driver too, so far getting out of campus wasn’t a problem. But now you were in a significantly cramped up space inside a vehicle with your crush, the silent atmosphere was a whole lot awkward than usual. Even with his eyes on the road he managed to fish is aux cord out to play music through his phone.

The guy had a Friday night Spotify playlist, how much more could you like him?

Lauv was playing in the background, you passed by streets where there were only neon signs and streetlights - stores already closed down. The perfect setting for you to drown in all the thoughts in your head.

Usually, two short weeks would have passed you by in your mind’s fragments of seconds. Somehow, Jaehyun made your two weeks feel like whole years: some uncharacteristic closeness kept these short moments interesting. You could be comfortable in the silence with Jaehyun, and he made it very easy for you to be comfortable to tell him all you could. It was different with him at times, when you reminded yourself you had to keep all of your heart locked up in order to preserve the mess you’ve made of attachment.

He stops at a food place that opens 24/7, but orders you to stay inside the car. So you do, like any other time that he tells you he is up to something - or he has plans he wants to spend with you. You wonder what it is like to be in Jaehyun’s life forever, where you are the one he loves, and you can spend time over eating Kung Pao Chicken with him and he’d look at you like he had seen a star for the first time in his life. But you remember that you can only go as far as trying to make up moments you would never have spent with him anyway; your mind was a dangerous thing when it came to trying to put puzzle pieces together.

A few minutes later, Jaehyun comes back with takeout food. “Can we eat these somewhere else? I want to drive somewhere.” You only nod, you can only nod. And it barely takes a forth of his playlist, but soon enough you find yourselves by the faux concrete bay built by the edges of the river - Jaehyun haphazardly parking enough to see the view of the city lights.

One of the most confused expressions came across your face when Jung Jaehyun told you he’d just get the blankets from his trunk compartment  and that he wanted you to lay on the hood of his car.

“I swear Jaehyun, if I take any part in breaking this car the blame is all on you for ever letting me lay here.” You said in fear as Jaehyun was the one climbing up the empty spot to your left, food in his hands and then you see that he just got a box of pizza and what it seemed like beers.

He only laughs, as you then open the canned beers. Taking a slice and eventually a bite of his pizza, he speaks with his mouth a little full. “I heard news before I came into practice a while ago.” He shrinks with the words, he only whispered them.

“News?” You take a sip at the drink in your hands.

“I got word from coach that the SM League has a lawyer to sign us up for their league after we graduate this semester.” He beams.

You almost just tip your beer over, but quickly get a good grip on it as you try and wrap one arm around Jaehyun in surprise. “Oh my god! Jaehyun, that’s amazing!” It isn’t something you expect when he hugs you back, and gets rid of the half full can of beer in your hands and throws it away for him to get a good grip on you and for you to get a good grip on him.

Touching Jaehyun like this, you think, burns pain into you like you never ever understood before.

“I just can’t believe it.” He mumbles into your shoulder and you shiver. It takes more than a lot of self control to stop yourself from wanting to hold his hair or to pull him in tighter, but Jaehyun is already crumpling you up by the seams and he seems to have no reservations in finding comfort in you like this.

For a while, you cannot breathe. Not when Jaehyun is holding you the way he does. You feel that you cannot breathe for the next month. When Jaehyun is almost always by your side now: taking a seat next to you in Literature class and always annoyingly asks you for correctional tape because he uses pens for his drafts when you’ve told him for the millionth time that he can borrow one of your (many) mechanical pens. When Jaehyun still always asks you out to eat dinner with him after school, and more when he wipes sweet and sour sauce off your chin with a napkin. When Jaehyun explicitly asks you to wear the outfit he’d buy for you (even if you’d constantly ask him not to spend any money on you) when he’d warn you for a ‘messy’ night out. When Jaehyun asks you to read him seventeenth century as he lay on your lap after hours and hours of coming over to study in your apartment, and eventually asking you to go to the theme park to take a ride on the gigantic rollercoasters you hated going on. You swear he’s gone familiar with you each time he catches you off guard with his arms around your shoulders and his hands grazing your arms, even when there are people around who are obviously questioning the whole ordeal. When Jaehyun begs you to watch practice even if it meant that you wouldn’t really watch practice, but instead do your paperwork on the side and look whenever he would score a hoop. More importantly, when Jaehyun is only a few inches scraped away from the surface of your body when you drive to nowhere to look at the stars on the hood of his car— and he tells you he is more than excited for all the opportunities the world has for him.

You learn that your lungs get squeezed in all its awkward positions when he admits to you all his fears, the odd things he wants. How he brings you along in malls to shop for the most useless things he thinks he needs, but you don’t bother telling him ‘no’ because you can never say that to him. When he cries when he’s just a little bit more than drunk, and he tells you he regretted ever getting a bowl cut as a child. When he brings you around his friends all the time because he tells you that you need to go out more. When he tells you that he wants you to write words of him, and only for him. When he feels the difficulty of responsibility - that he carries the burden of taking one for the team. When he tells you he honestly doesn’t care about what other people think. When Jaehyun tells you he’s so good at economics and makes a joke about taking advantage of the capitalist system when he becomes a star. You learn your windpipe is busted when you look at Jung Jaehyun and you think, in the minuscule voice in your head that tries its best not to tell him that you love him so, that he already is a star— and that he’s the brightest you have ever seen.

To no surprise, you also learn that you have fallen deeper and that you are scared. It seems, you will never admit your feelings to him. Not when he tells you that you are one of the most important friends he’s ever made, and it breaks your heart that he’s even closer to graduating. This could be a good thing, right? You could either clear all the awkward air out and tell him that you’ve always liked him, get inevitably rejected, and quickly move on as you won’t see him when he’d be off to play professional basketball. Or, you could preserve the bond you developed with him and remain friends.

Only friends.

-

next: half time interval

#jung yoonoh #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #nct 127 #nct #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #jung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun fic #jung jaehyun fan fic #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun imagines

[drawlfoy]

Detention, Retention, and Draco Being a Lying Shit (halloweek day 1!)

masterlist 

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope!

summary: y/n’s two month detention sentence goes from being the bane of her existence to harry potter’s last hope to bringing down malfoy.

a/n: hiiiiiii everyone so i’m starting new classes today and idk how much time im gonna have to write consistently until i’m home for break but i just want to thank all of you! this week is my tribute to everyone who takes time out of their day to continue reading my content. i have so much appreciation for you.

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, mentions of drugging someone (in jest)

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast

word count: 1.1k

no music recs for today i b tired fdjskfdsja

For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.

Her life was ending for sure.

“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”

“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”

Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”

“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”

“How very analytic of you.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”

“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”

“Have fun.”

~ 

Detention.

Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.

Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.

At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.

“Malfoy?” she spat.

The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”

She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from THAT foul git and reaching for her satchel.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”

With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy. 

“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”

His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently so. What’re you in for?”

He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”

“No promises, but maybe.”

“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”

She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”

“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”

~

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Slytherin--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.

“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re ALL on the brink of war...he’s not special!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”

“Wait! That’s it!”

“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”

“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”

“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”

“Ick!”

“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”

“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”

“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”

“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”

“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”

“Love potion?” offered Ron.

“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”

“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”

“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”

A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter imagines

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 01x08

Bugs

“I feel like they could have monetized this differently instead of being social outcasts.”

Reminded Spouse of HunterCorps! SalmonDean

“This is the Native American land disturbance one, right? I remember this one.”

“I love how they show how there’s bugs there by showing a can of bug spray.”

“As if there isn’t a whole ass crew of people - there’s just these 2 dudes.”

“It’s ok - he’s just going to be bones. Not quite. Still dead though. Nice”

“HELP COME HERE NOW. But the guy is in his car saying he’ll be right there.”

Look at that stupid face with that stupid smile

“It was JACKED yo”

“Isn’t that the first time that Sam mentions their childhood was fucked and Dean brushed it off. Does it take longer for Dean to accept it?”

I think Dean knows they had a shitty childhood but what is he going to do about it right now? It’s easier for early seasons Dean just to ignore shit.

“This looks like the same housing complex they fucked up in Tokyo Drift”

“I 100% agree with that but idk if I’d want to blow my brains out.”

“Think of all the HOA fees”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Forgot about that shit. That’s sooooo bad.” Then laughed

“Did the guy look embarrassed? Way to assume everything. How white of you.” “Oh my god.” 

“Who is that kid again? Oh yeah. Letterkenny. I remember you talked about it.”

“I’m going to assume you’re gay then going to punish my child now.”

“Bow hunting is pretty awesome though. Idk about killing animals but shooting things is fun.”

“Oh I gotta good song for this. You can link it once I find it.”

“I don’t quite understand insect people.”

“Oh that’s fake as shit. I’d be screaming because the FX are so bad.”

“It got the salesman first.”

“Let’s just walk over all the blood that hasn’t completed dried yet. Let’s move all the evidence. That’s fine.”

“Drive on the curb; no big deal”

🎶gonna go smoke weed in the woods🎶

“He’s playing with sticks in the woods.”

“Walking in the woods”

Laughed “how does that make any sense? If they were serial killers, would they actually say yes?”

“I feel like Larry also has a lot of money invested in this project, too.”

“College? Fuck College. You’ll be 18; you can do whatever you want.”

“Sam is part of the problem telling everyone to go to college; what a shitter”

“In a different time, the letterkenny kid would have made a better Sam. They look similar enough”

Told Spouse that Misha auditioned to play Dean

“It’s a skull probably. That’s probably not something you want to hold with your hands but ok. It’s not going to hurt you I guess”

“I dug up a cow skull once; it was weird. It was in the middle of the woods. I brought it home and Dad put it in the front yard. It was Weird.”

🎶bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave. Masssss murder🎶

“I don’t understand the Munsters reference”

“Dean has rosier glasses about their dad. It’s not a bad thing, but I think he’s more of an optimist. He’s choosing to remember to the better things over the others. I can understand that.”

“This actor looks familiar. Idk who he is.”

“Why are we eating a dog eat trash? Then pan over to the Native guy.”

“Don’t forget we’re in a bad part of town since the dog is eating trash and there’s a Native guy standing around.”

“Jared’s dynamic acting at best. Every time I watch the show, it just gets worse to me.”

“What night would that be? Is that the summer solstice? What’s the opposite of the solstice?” Dean’s stupid lips.

“For what it’s worth, they gave him some dynamic dialogue and more of a part instead of just reading out of a book”

🎶you don’t break a curse - the curse breaks you🎶

“Way to be a douche Dean. You just caused all those rocks to hit the other cars in the parking lot. You know better Dean”

“Doesn’t this just fall through and there’s a million bugs or something?”

“Where do you get a million roaches for props? Those are real roaches. If you’re the props guy, do you just call the roach guy?”

“The dad thing points to how Dean learned how to deal with John”

Look how big Dean’s eyes are in this scene when they hear the bugs

“Idk if a bug can eat through the power lines but ok.”

Laughed at the bugs at the window “I remember laughing at that. I still find it funny, because bugs don’t usually suicide themselves like that.”

“A little bug spray will help I’m sure. You’ll be fine.”

“Is he doing the bug spray and lighter trick?”

“Might want to hold the flue down.” ‘Yeah ok.” “I think just spraying the bug spray would be more effective.” laughing at the whole situation 

“Look how effective that flame is. Oh so effective”

“And that roof was new. Look how shitty that is. Someone fire their builder. Oh my god. I know we’re dealing with a biblical plague/Native American curse, but come on.”

“That sunrise came up quick. Wasn’t it just midnight?”

“Just a few thousand bees and maybe 2 bee stings. 3 or 4 on their faces and necks.”

“Hey he didn’t drive on the curb this time. Imagine that.”

“This doesn’t make any sense - DIY mover. Wouldn’t you rent it and move shit yourself? But next to the logo it says National Moving Experts. So are you hiring movers or moving everything yourself? Pick one.”

“Somehow…I think insurance will cover your white ass. It’ll be fine.”

“Way to throw away the terrarium kid.”

“Way to agree with him, Sam. You’re supposed to encourage the kid and not tell him to fuck off.”

“How many daddy bonding moments before we see John? We’re having like 2-3 every episode.” “We ain’t in Kansas anymore.”

#beautifulspouserewatchesspn #supernatural #supernatural s1 #supernatural rewatch #Spotify