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#student bio taken
thistleandthorn-rpg · 5 months
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Name: Forsythe Pendleton “Jughead” Jones III Designation: Switch but Jughead will say he’s a Dom Age: 26 Birthdate: November 26th 1996 Faceclaim: Cole Sprouse Orientation: Pansexual Kinks: He’s fairly open-minded but refuses to touch anything in the anti-kinks Anti-Kinks: Scat, watersports, age play
Key Points: 
Intelligence
Untrusting
Problem with authority, or at least those that demand respect without earning it
Doesn’t let anyone get too close
BIO 
Forsythe Jones, or Jughead as he’ll introduce himself was born into the Jones family to, more or less, a single father. Yes, he had a mother, he knew his mother, but Jughead stopped considering the women who gave birth to him or his sister as anything more than an egg donor by the time he reached doubled digits. At this point, as far as Jug is concerned, the only family he has is his father and his sister.
Growing up, even with an absent mother that only seemed to wander in when she wanted something, Jughead remained decently level-headed, all things concerned. Most likely thanks to the fact he’d escape into books or his writing and his sister, because even though they were only minutes apart they still seemed to settle into their roles with her as the big sister protector and him as the baby of the family and at the end of the day he could trust her to take care of him if he needed her. Which might also explain why there is nobody Jughead trusts more. They might not always see eye-to-eye, but Jug won’t hesitate to protect her regardless of the consequences and he knows that she would do the same for him.
Jughead has mixed feelings about his label as a Switch and is very much determined to keep it to himself as he can. He’ll never admit it out loud but he knows it’s fitting for him and a part of him is aware he could fit into both a Dominant or submissive role if he wanted to. He’s blunt, confident, forward, and determined and he’s aware those are very much traits that scream submissive. At the same time, he also likes to be praised and he takes pride in making people proud of him– especially his father and his sister, and that could definitely lean him in the direction of a submissive.
Unfortunately, after watching his mother come and go and essentially use his father, and Jughead has seen submissives get taken advantage over, he refuses to acknowledge that side of himself. As far as he’s concerned it doesn’t exist and he’ll never submit to anyone, and if he had his way nobody would be aware of his true mark.
He spent some time traveling, wanting to see the world, and even focus on his writing as he dabbled here and there when he found someone that caught his attention, but he’s found himself missing JB and their father and decided that since their birthday was coming up he would surprise her by joining her at Stonewall Prep. There’s also the fact Jug is also aware that as much as he ignores his real mark, the day he turns thirty it won’t matter if he’s been acting as a Dominant or not, he’ll still legally be a Switch and end up at the auction.
BIO QUESTIONS:
What are your feelings about the mark you have received?  - My mark is what it is.  It allows me to decide what I want to do and when I want to do it.
How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it? - The system exists and we all have to deal with it. I feel there’s potential for it to do good but that also means it has potential to become an absolute shit show.
Where do you see yourself after you graduate?   - That’s a great question. I’d hope I would still be writing, maybe even working on a book or having one published.  I’d also hope not to be too far from JB and the old man, but I’m not able to see the future so I guess we’ll find out.
How do you feel about authority? - I mean it exists and has some benefits. If you’re asking me if I respect authority then that’s something completely different. I respect those that earn it and deserve it and right now the only people who qualify for that are my sister and my father.  I don’t care if you’re a Dominant, Switch, submissive or even a slave.  You want my respect? Earn it and don’t be an asshole for no reason. If you bite me, I do bite back.
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rubberbandballqueen · 13 days
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i just think that as a chemistry major i shouldn't be forced to take biology classes that expect me to memorize the everything to pass. i need some kind of "biology for chemistry majors" where they emphasize the techniques a living thing has at its disposal to remain at homeostasis and then look at how all these parts come together to form a complex living organism undergoing constant holistic processes to remain at equilibrium. i don't need to know what a golgi apparatus is called i just need to know how it serves its function in the complex process of transforming A into B
#had to google golgi apparatus just now to know what it does (process lipids n protiens apparently) i haven't been in a bio class since 2016#my classmates in o chem would usually conplain to me abt the bio classes forcing them to memorize a bunch of#species that fall under certain taxonomic classifications bc their specificities Would show up on the exam#n i'm just like. that is a horror show. why do i need to be able to id 36 types of mollusks.#i'm probably Also like this bc i haven't taken a bio class since 2016 unless you count high school physiology then 2018#the worm speaks#my thoughts on academia are pretty much always 'this sucks please let me test into the very specific credentials i want'#bc academia tends to assume that the things i wanna research are the things i wanna teach but that is actually untrue#mostly bc my fave parts of chemistry are the very foundational things n what i like abt teaching it is that you have to balance#accuracy with generality so that new students don't get totally lost in the details of it all or spend too much time focused on a niche#my interest in discussing w/experts mostly extends out to 'okay tell me the new findings. ooo cool i'll incorporate that'#'good luck with your problem tho' no interest in helping out with specifics. only interested in being able to communicate knowledge#the stuff i'd have more interest in discussing and researching lie more in the arts. i do love discussing a good symbolism#probably bc i can also accept that there's never really one exact answer! like what if i do a stem research and then im just Wrong.#art and the human condition on the other hand!! let's go let us gather the Contexts and then Discuss!!!
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myulk · 1 year
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The cerebellum ones didn't come out as pretty as the kidney's but it's okay! Pinky pinky <3
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saym0-0 · 10 months
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okokokokok mermay post attempt 3 :D
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so basically its an erasermic mermaid/quirkless au where eraser (+oboro but he died rip) is human and mic is a siren/merman they 'discovered' as teenagers :D
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look at my tags if u wanna know the Lore™ i ran out of tags rip
still not sure on mic's colours but whatever we vibe
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mainfaggot · 1 year
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im gonna fucking kill myself nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
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victory-cookies · 20 days
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bro I’ll never again be able to do it like I was doing it in high school
#I just read through my final essay for AP lang and the closing statement I wrote for my law class’ mock trial and they’re both such bangers#like genuinely the writing in both is better than what I could do today (to be fair at that time I had just taken a year of ap lang#and that had made me really really good at essays)#and like my valedictory! that shit ruled! I was told it was the best valedictorian speech most of my teachers had heard in a decade!#I was thriving!#Ok I wasn’t fully thriving but still. I had a 96% avg and was consistently churning out stellar work#plus I still had friends lol. uni has not been kind to me in that way#I miss it tbh. Like I defo had my ups and downs but god I was just such a different and better person then#I didn’t skip a single class in high school. Nowadays I skip half my lectures.#I just found out my com class is done with marked attendance so you bet your ass I’m gonna stop going to that!#like high school me could have never. high school me had 100% in bio 97% in physics and 96% in chem#and was looking forward to a career in stem. lol#anyway I’m just reminiscing#when I think about my childhood I get painfully nostalgic. When I think about high school I just feel sad that I’ve fallen so far#I miss being a good student who the teachers all liked who was in clubs and sports and leadership and the arts#and I recognize I could become that again if I really worked at it#but idk. something’s changed#I think I’m burnt out first and foremost. And then I just don’t care as much anymore. and as a result I’ve really stopped trying as hard#and it’s too bad#bro what happened to this post I was just gonna poke fun at myself for writing better in grade 11 than I do now years later#and then I had to get all sad about it
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months
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the murder at evergreen university
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a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡
summary:  just a slutty murder mystery
warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive
word count: 11.100
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist
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Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 
Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 
“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 
“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 
Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”
“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 
Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 
“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”
“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 
“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”
“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”
Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 
“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  
“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 
“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”
“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 
Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”
“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 
“Yeah.”
“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”
Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 
“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.
“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”
“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”
Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 
In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 
“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”
“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”
“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”
“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 
Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.
“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.
“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 
Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 
Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”
After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.
“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”
Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 
“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.
“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 
“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”
“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 
“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”
“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.
Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”
Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 
Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 
“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”
“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”
“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”
Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.
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“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 
“What do you mean?”
Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”
“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 
“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”
“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 
“None of us have.”
“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”
“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”
“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”
“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”
Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 
“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”
“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”
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“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”
As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.
Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”
“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.
Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.
“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”
He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 
“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”
“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 
Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.
You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.
“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”
“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 
“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 
“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.
Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.
“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”
“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”
“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”
“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”
“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 
“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 
“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 
“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”
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Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.
“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 
Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”
“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”
“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 
Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”
Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”
“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”
“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 
“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”
“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 
Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”
“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 
“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”
Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”
“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 
“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”
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Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 
“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”
“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”
“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”
“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”
“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”
Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”
“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  
“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 
Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.
“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.
“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”
“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.
“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.
“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 
Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 
Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 
“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 
His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 
“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 
A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 
“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”
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“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 
“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”
Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”
Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 
“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 
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Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 
Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”
“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 
“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 
“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 
Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 
“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.
“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 
“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”
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“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 
“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 
“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 
He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 
“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 
Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 
“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 
You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”
“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 
“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”
Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”
“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 
Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”
Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 
“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  
Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 
“Yeah.”
Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 
“Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”
“I am.”
Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 
“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 
“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 
“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 
“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 
“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 
“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”
“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.
“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”
“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 
Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  
“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”
“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 
Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 
“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 
Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”
Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 
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It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 
The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  
The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 
“Why don’t you go ask him?” 
“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”
Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 
Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”
“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.
Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”
From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 
“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”
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“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 
“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”
“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”
“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 
“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 
Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”
“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”
“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 
Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”
“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.
“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”
“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”
“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”
“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”
Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”
“So…” he echoed.
“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”
“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”
Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 
“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 
“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 
“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”
“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”
“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 
“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”
“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”
Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”
“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”
“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  
Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 
“Know what?”
“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”
Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 
“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 
“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”
“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”
“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”
“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”
“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 
“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”
Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”
“What?” you blinked. 
“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”
“What? Why?”
Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”
Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”
“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 
But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”
Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”
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You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 
You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 
“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 
Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 
The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 
“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 
“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 
“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 
Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”
“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 
The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 
Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”
Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 
“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.
“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”
“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”
Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”
Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.
Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 
“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”
Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 
Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”
“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.
“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”
“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 
Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”
“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”
Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”
“Yes.”
“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”
“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.
“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”
Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”
“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.
“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”
Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.
Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 
“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 
“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 
“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”
“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 
“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”
“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”
Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”
Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”
The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”
The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 
“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”
“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”
Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”
Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”
“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”
The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.
“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”
Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”
Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”
“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”
“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 
In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 
“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 
“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”
After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 
“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 
Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.
“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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fairykazu · 3 months
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NOT-SUPER-SECRET-CRUSH FT. SCARAMOUCHE contents: fem! reader, friends to lovers, requited love, highschool au, zhongli is ur dad, modern au masterlist | series masterlist | part two | part three
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it was too early for this, the flickering fluorescent lighting overhead, snapping scaramouche's tired eyes awake. it was obvious he didn't get much sleep as his eyes were sunken in as much as he tried to hide it with concealer. putting his head down in his arms, yawning as ms. yae's aggravating voice rang in his ears. "scaramouche, lift your head up. you of all students need to pay attention." scaramouche took a deep breath as he rolled his eyes, what was the point of dissing him in the class when there's a student named itto who regularly skips this class? "scaramouche."
"ok." he lifted his head up, his hair disheveled. miss yae walked closer to the end of the classroom, her heels clicking with each step. "mr. raiden, don't make me call your mother."
scaramouche hissed back, "you would like that wouldn't you."
the silence filled the room as the pink haired teacher looked taken back. "just because of that, i'm calling her."
"whatever." after his last word, the class spilled back to normal as scaramouche felt as if he had to peel his eyelids back just to pay attention. but the noise was overwhelming as the lesson yae is making is coming out of one ear and out the other. trying to fight back the urge, he pinched himself but fell victim of falling asleep in the boring english class.
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school wasn't the greatest for you because you're failing the two requirements to pass. math and science... screw the people who created this topic. if school was solely history and english, you would be flying out of the teyvat with rainbows, and you'd become the nyan cat or something.
when you arrived at your class, slightly late, miss guizhong greeted you with a smile, motioning you to come closer to her. she announced to the class to check their answers for homework as it was on the board. she turned to you, "name, you are not surviving this class."
"i know..."
"im not sure how you're not grasping this concept even if i had given you one of my best students to tutor you."
to be fair, haitham wasn't the greatest. he was the best student in your class, but he spent most of the tutoring with his not-boyfriend, bickering at any chance he could get.
"i know." it's really tiring to hear this even though you know you're failing, and you know you should get better by now. after all you are a junior now. but it's hard after years of getting used to being the bottom of the barrel. you tried to joke with yourself, 'at least, i have english and history!'
"if you know, scaramouche raiden, then you could ask him. he's one of the top students for these subjects." guizhong said, jotting down his name on a post it notes, giving you the yellow-colored paper.
oh wait, you forgot that scaramouche was a student that is soaring in the skies in this subject. maybe he'll help.
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it was break and you spotted the familiar purple haired male from afar. you ran after him, attacking him from behind by pulling back on the lash tab. halting his way to his spot, scaramouche only turned his head to you. he was greeted by your smile, you tugged on the lash tab again, "hey, scara, can i ask you something?"
letting go of the back of the backpack when scaramouche turned fully to you, he rolled his eyes, as his friends walked ahead, assuming he'll catch up, "you did."
"haha, you're so funny." you glanced back at him, his face only told you to "get to the point."
"um, can you help me with ms guizhong's math class and miss nahida's bio class..."
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scaramouche scoffed at the idea you just proposed, helping you? why would he even help you? you noticed how his face is not changing from his resting bitch face. you feared that you had to resort to older measures. "scaramouche, pleasseee! if you don't help me, my dad's going to kill me."
"how would mr. morax kill his favorite kid?" scaramouche raised a brow. "'cause, i'm literally failing like ... some of my classes... especially the class, my auntie is teaching...." you admitted, sheepishly. scaramouche's eyes widened, the daughter of one of the best teachers are failing. either you're really stupid or she sucks at his job. if he's being honest, it's probably the former. miss guizhong was great at her job.
seeing how scaramouche's porcelain poker face break, you took this as a chance to jab him where it hurts. you know that scaramouche isn't particularly good at the subject of english, especially when his teacher was literally his mom's girlfriend. "can you please help me with math and biology?" you began to whisper, "after that, i can help you with english homework from ms yae."
his face scrunched up as you could tell he was breaking resistence to your idea. itching the spot on his neck, he sighed, "fine. i will."
"alright! when do you want to meet up?"
"for?"
"the tutoring stuff."
"i did not agree to tutoring you."
"yes you did." you played a recording of scaramouche saying yes to the convo. just to annoy him, you started at the beginning and played his voice slower, a masculine voice going, "fine. i will." in reverb, basically catching the male red handed.
"you're insufferable."
"i know." you giggled as turning the opposite direction of scaramouche, not even looking back. unbeknownst to you, scaramouche was hiding a small smile.
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there's art to life's distraction | marcus pike x female reader
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Summary: A meet cute on Valentine’s Day? That only happens in the movies, doesn’t it? Word count: 1564 Warnings: mentions of wine and canapes. Otherwise this is just slightly anxious meet cute fluff! Pairing: Marcus Pike x female reader Notes: Hi @burntheedges, here is your gift for the Space Sisters valentine's gift exchange.I hope you don’t mind me trying Marcus P for the first time. I saw him on your prompt list and meet cutes and couldn’t resist. I so hope you love this meet cute which had to be set on Valentine's for the extra vibes 💕 The title is from Hozier's Someone New because I saw some hozier lyrics on your blog bio and wanted to make a little link to that.
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You meet him at an art opening. It was a personal goal to attend the gallery, expanding your cultural knowledge; self-development or something like that. It might have been because more that you hadn’t left the house except for work or groceries in weeks and you were easily seduced by warm white wine and free canapés.
The canapés were actually pretty good.
It feels less cliched than sitting alone in your apartment on Valentine’s once again, or better than some terribly organised ‘singles’ night’. Why shouldn’t you go out and spend some time appreciating art just because it’s Valentine’s Day?  You weren’t meant to be on your own for this, but your friend now is working late, your other friends are all with their partners and so here you are.
You’re okay with this though. You can be cultured and sip your … well, you’re not quite sure it’s legally classifiable as wine.
It’s a mistake, this evening is a mistake.
This isn’t a nice simple introductory art gallery. This is beyond Avant Garde or a modern exhibition. This is highly experimental and bold. Apparently, it has a reputation for this, one you didn’t know about before seeing the flyer. It’s a baptism of fire and you suddenly feel so unprepared.
You’re surrounded by couples, or by art students analysing each work carefully, and your loneliness feels starker than ever. You’re not sure if you’re analysing the works correctly, but it’s all about feeling anyway, right?
You’re here though and this is meant to about broadening your horizons, appreciating art.  Maybe you should have eased into this though - gone to the National Gallery of Art or Portrait Gallery, rather than straight into this.
You can do this. You’ve got this.
 You move to a quieter corner of the gallery and carefully try to analyse what a particularly obtuse modern installation could mean.
Five minutes and you can go home. You’ll even treat yourself to a coffee, you think.
“Interesting,” you mumble to yourself.
“How so?” a low voice asks behind you.
You turn around. The man is good looking, there’s no denying that. He’s all deep, dark eyes and stubble, wearing a smart coat over what looks like his work suit.
There’s a warmth that radiates around him, something that makes you want to answer him, rather than ignore him and move on.
“Uh, well -” Shit, what if he’s the artist? “It’s very blue.”
“Blue?”
“Yuh huh.” You have a fucking postgraduate degree and all you can think is it’s very blue? You curse yourself inwardly. Maybe, just maybe you should have taken that art theory class in college instead of introduction to media.
Or perhaps you shouldn’t be so distracted by the good-looking man beside you.
“I see.” There’s a devilish twinkle in his eye, one that draws you in immediately.
“What’s your take then?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.
“It’s really, really blue,” he replies, deadpan and without meaning to, you feel your mouth twitch, the hint of a laugh or a smile teeters.
He looks cute when he smiles.
“Well, I was onto something there clearly.”
“It’s uh, got some feeling though. Sad but hopeful. That’s my take.”
You look at the painting again. “It’s raw. Very blue, but raw.”
“Exactly.”
“Actually, I think it’s kind of pretentious.”
“Hmm, that too,” he says with a smile.
“Oh no, you’re not the artist, are you?” you ask, horror dawning on you. Why did you have to add that? Of course it’s pretentious, it’s an art gallery in DC.
“No, no, not at all I just - I like art. All art really. I think there’s something special in capturing a moment, or a feeling, or - it’s real.”
“I can understand that. I’m not really I’m much of an art expert but that’s how I feel about music.”
“Exactly.”
You don’t want to let this fleeting moment go. You want to hold on to it just a little longer, a little tight.
It’s Valentines and you’re surrounded by couples and here’s this very attractive, well put together man talking art with you and he’s not being sleazy or weird, but he seems genuinely interested in talking to you. 
“So, what do you think of this one then?” you ask, moving to the next painting.
“Ooof, where do we start?” the stranger jokes.
“You’re not the artist on any of these, are you?”
“Nope, and I don’t know any of the artists, so don’t worry about my feelings. You can tell me just how blue something is. Or pretentious.”
“I think the second thing is almost taken for granted at a gallery like this.”
“How did you hear about this place then?”
“I pass it on my way home and I uh, work -  I like art.”
You haven’t missed his correction and immediately ask, “Collector or historian?”
“Neither.” There’s a twinkle in his eye that implies he’s certain you won’t guess his profession.
“Appraiser?”
“Nope.”
“Critic?” you ask sceptically.
He laughs at that one. “No.”
“Aha? I know, art fraudster.”
“So close, but so far.”
“Oof, mystery man then. So mystery art lover, do you have a name?”
Who are you right now? You never act this bold, never initiate flirting like this, there’s something about him though. He makes you feel at ease, calm and reassured. It’s novel, especially considering he’s a stranger.
“Marcus,” he says softly.
“Hi,” you say before you share your name in response almost automatically, noticing the way it sounds on his lips as he repeats it back.
His smooth voice fills your stomach with butterflies, a tingling hint of desire surfaces on hearing him say your name. You think about what it would sound like outside of the art gallery, outside of this context, with him closer so you can smell that heady cologne more or have him whisper.
“So what bought you here?” he asks.
“I saw the flyer earlier in the week and it seemed like fun, or at least a better way to spend an evening.” You take a sip of the wine and wince slightly.
“That was until you tried the wine, huh?”
“The canapés really implied it would be better wine.”
“That’s how they suck you in.”
You both laugh and are immediately glared at by another patron. Marcus’ smile is magnetic though and you find yourself not feeling embarrassed.
“Would you - would you like to get a cup of coffee? If you’re finished here, of course,” he asks. “There’s a decent coffee shop around the corner and we could uh, finish our conversation? Only if you want.”
“Sure.” You get to hold on to this moment for just a little longer.
The air outside is cool but not overtly . The night has reached that moment where it’s dark but not menacing while the streetlights gleam around you. You walk side by side, your fingers very occasionally brushing as you feel the featherlight hint of his fingers against your own as you turn a corner. You brush against his coat, catch a lingering hint of a woody cologne that immediately entices you closer.
“I want to get more into art,” you admit. “It’s not something I’ve necessarily prioritised before. I mean, we’re in DC and there are amazing galleries and museums.”
“But you dived right into one of the most experimental galleries in DC?” he asks with a smile.
“I believe it’s important to immerse yourself fully,” you lie smoothly.
He coughs, suppressing a chortle. “I can respect that. There are some amazing galleries in this city to explore though. It’s one of the reasons that I like that I moved here.”
“Where were you before?”
“New York.” You don’t need an art or a psychology degree to notice the way his face shifts; how his lips tilt slightly downward, eyes avoid you. There’s a story there.
“I’ve never been,” you admit and then change the subject, sensing his unease. “What are the other reasons?”
“Coffee and we’re here,” he says lightly, indicating a small hole-in-the-wall cafe just ahead of you both. There are no fussy or brash valentine’s decorations and while you notice a couple of couples inside, it doesn’t feel as high pressure as another cafe or restaurant would.
Five minutes later, you’re both perched at a small table with steaming, hot cups in front of you.
“At least we can talk here without any glares,” you say.
“Ooh, yeah, you don’t want to mess with artists or art students. Trust me.”
The conversation flows naturally; music you like, books you’ve read and it feels like you’ve known Marcus so much longer.
There’s no pressure, no impending sense of alarm or panic. It feels right. Sitting here with Marcus feels like where you need to be now and like you’ve known him for years.
It’s shaping up for more than friendship. There’s a fission, a flare of desire and sweet anticipation.
It’s you who suggests a real date, to your own surprise. You love the way he responds, the way his eyes light up and brighten, the crinkle of his brow, the smile that feels so sincere.
“You beat me to it,” he says softly, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to go to the art opening alone on Valentine’s Day, you think. Maybe, just maybe, it was kismet.
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thistleandthorn-rpg · 4 months
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Name: Adelaide Jenkins Designation: Dom Age: 23 Birthdate: January 3rd, 2000 Faceclaim: Abigail Cowen Orientation:Pansexual Kinks: Mommy kink, bombification, etc Anti-Kinks: Scat, bodily fluids, blood
Key Points:
Former student in D/s school in New York
She's always thinking about getting laid.
Her parents’ are lawyers and work for The Torres.
She was studying to be a lawyer too, but then decided to drop everything.
BIO
Adelaide was not born in a wealthy family, even when her parents were lawyers, they at first, were struggling to make ends meet. Then her father, in a confusing situation that Adelaide never totally understood, met the Torres’ family and suddenly, both her parents were working for him. Traveling to Latin America to fix the other businesses, so she met Diego and they became friends instantly.
That's when she decided to follow her parents career and became a lawyer. She started the first year, but one day, he found his father having sex with a girl her own age and everything changed. Even when her father explained to her that as a Dom himself, he had needs, it was too much for Adelaide. Something had broken inside.
BIO QUESTIONS:
What are your feelings about the mark you have received? - I'm a Dom by nature. I don't know what I'd do if I'd been marked differently. I don't go by the rules that easily.
How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it? - To be honest, the system is quite crappy. My parents and everybody I know of is happy with this so-called system. Personally, I found it very… floppy.
Where do you see yourself after you graduate? - Having a sub, or more than one. Having fun and living life at its fullest.
How do you feel about authority? - Authority can suck my waxed pussy.
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apt502-if · 8 months
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Apartment 502 social media series 1/?: Cal/Calliope Dawson
Some things in Cal's IG: a picture of a stray cat they found on their way home from work. they sent a picture to rainn who promptly demanded to know the location of the cat so rainn can adopt him (poor kitty disappeared). a selfie taken to prove they can take selfies (since L doesn't agree).
Calliope: A picture of f!Taren (cal's gender-selectable partner). A photo of them sharing drinks with fellow teachers after work.
Cal: A photo of m!L (black jacket) and Cal who pretended to drink from the river for the sake of the photo. (Cal promptly took a shower the minute they got home).
they keep their instagram private so their students don't follow it, and their bio is a joke from a student who sent it to them through email. Cal found it so funny that they began to use it for everything, even though everyone agrees it's...literally not that funny.
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ventismacchiato · 2 years
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genshin men and their instagram feeds pt.2
heizou, aether, & scaramouche x gender!neutral reader
notes: modern college au
a/n: it’s been months but heizou awakened something within me like LORDDd that man is so fine so don’t mind me for making his headcanon long
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heizou:
✧ he majors in criminology but you both meet because you both rented the same study room
✧ his feed is a lot of reels of him trying skateboarding tricks, game nights with friends, and him using the most obnoxious and weird filters
✧ you had an overdue essay and had rented a private study space in your college’s library bc your roommate was prone to partying
✧ when you’d swiped your ID you were surprised to see another student in there quickly scribbling on the whiteboard
✧ he’d immediately greeted you and apologized for using the room for longer then he’d rented, but it was already late and you were tired so you offered to share it. which, tbh, you only did bc he was really cute
✧ soon after you stalked instagram until you found his handle and followed him and would go to the study room whenever he posted about it and pretended it was a coincidence ^-^
✧ afterwards, usually at 1am, he’d offer to take you to a convenience store for a late night ramen snack
✧ he spams his story with memes and photos of himself in weird filters, but one day he posted a poll
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✧ your heart dropped when you saw it, it was on his close friends story, which you weren’t even aware you were on
✧ your finger hovered over the no option before remembering he would be able to see your choice, so you bit your lip and clicked yes and shut your phone off
✧ heizou already had a crush on someone else, so you distanced yourself and stopped going to the study room at the same time as him,,,but heizou being the sweetheart he was thought you were stressed and offered to hang out with you
✧ he was obsessed with the game clue! but instead of forcing you to play it with him he took you to the football field at night and showed you the constellations
✧ it was oddly…romantic
✧ you asked if he had confessed to his crush yet and he said he was planning on it tonight, and looks at you
✧ you swat his shoulder cus ur an oblivious idiot and told him to get going then since the night was almost over and he only laughed, then slyly confessed as you went into shock
✧ since then you’ve been together <3
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aether
✧ honestly you only knew of his existence because lumine was your roommate and when you were at class he came over to help her move in and she posted about it
✧ the most beautiful man to exist was in your room and you were stuck in algebra !!
✧ after that you followed him on instagram and after a few hours he completed the mutual >_>
✧ his feed was almost entirely mirror selfies and shots of him on family vacation taken by his sister
✧ according to his bio he was an education major, and you could already envision him being a cute school teacher, it fit his vibe
✧ he did attend the same college but you practically never ran into him until lumine was out of town for a concert and she told you to let her brother in since her packages had gone to his dorm by accident
✧ he arrived in the cutest hoodie with boxes stacked up till his face and a bag of groceries, he finally introduced himself to you, apologizing for it taking so long and how you were never around when he was over
✧ after setting the packages in lumine’s room he offered to make dinner and you watched him make sushi for you,,,which was super sexy he was great with a knife
✧ lumine came home to see you both giggling and she joined in on your dinner, making a comment on how she knew you were her brother’s exact type
✧ aether didn’t deny it
✧ later he started coming around to the dorm more often and waved at you in the hallways when he saw you, going out of his way to walk next to you
✧ he was an expert with hair, so if you had hair on the longer side he’d definitely braid it to match his
✧ you and aether were a real slow burn, even though he let you borrow his hoodies and make you dinner whenever you wanted neither of you confessed and lumine was sick of it!
✧ she locked you guys in your dorm and insisted you guys could come out once you were officially dating,,,
✧ he apologized for her and confessed, saying it was okay if you didn’t feel the same and you were like!?! was it not obvious?!?
✧ aether was a dumb blonde fr
✧ an hour later lumine opens the room to find you two making out
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scaramouche
✧ you knew him as the kid in the back of art class since it was the mandatory elective for most of the students and you always saw him there, usually alone
✧ he was too attractive for you to simply walk up to him but since you were also introverted in class the teacher put you two together as partners for the semester project
✧ you didn’t have time in class so he gave you his insta handle, you’d rather have his number but this would have to do smfh
✧ his feed was pictures where you could barely see his face and random ass photos he took, it was oddly attractive to see how inactive he was
✧ he refused to meet in the art studios when everyone else was using them, which you were okay with, so you ended up finishing your project late at night
✧ he was pretty and talented, but also very curt and honest and whenever he didn’t like something you did he’d be brutally honest
✧ he shared his spotify premium account with you bc he was sick of listening to the ads whenever you guys shared earbuds, which was an account he hasn’t even shared with his friends soooo
✧ when you finished your project you thought that would be the sad end of whatever the relationship between you two was, but to your surprise he sat next to you in class the next day…but he didn’t say a word
✧ you knew you’d have to put effort in if you wanted to be friends with him so you did all the talking despite being quite introverted yourself
✧ he’d grace you with a nod or a one-worded answer, which made you think he wasn’t interested,,, but when you stopped talking so much he asked you why you weren’t being as annoying as usual
✧ your art elective was ending in a week and you still hadn’t won the courage over to ask him out or to even hang out, you only saw him out of class at the library or in the halls and he usually had headphones on so you awkwardly shuffled by him
✧ you told yourself this was it, if he rejected you then you’d probably never see him around campus again and you could die in peace
✧ so on the last day of class you waited for him outside the door
✧ if he was surprised to see you, he didn’t show it, since he matched your pace and let you lead him down the hallway
✧ you confessed really quickly and were about to bolt away when he gripped onto your arm, giving you a strange look
✧ he questioned you on why the fuck you were running and you lamely explained because you were nervous
✧ he didn’t let go of your arm and simply shrugged, saying he accepted your feelings as you guys appeared in front of your next class
✧ he offered you a wave before leaving and you were SO CONFUSED and your questions weren’t answered until you found him waiting for you outside your classroom door
✧ you asked him fifty times if he actually liked you back and he rolled his eyes and kissed you to prove it cus he’s a tease
✧ you guys dated soon after that and dates included watching him paint in the studio or sharing a bowl of ramen late at night with a movie playing
✧ he posted photos of you he secretly took during dates, much to your dismay
✧ that’s how your seduced the emo mf !!
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a/n: ty for reading!! this series got a lot of love last time so i thought i’d do it again w more of my fictional boyfriends,, hope u enjoyed <33
read part one here
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godlygreta · 2 months
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god is fair | j. t. kiszka
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title | god is fair
word count | 7.7k
warnings | swearing, mentions of alcohol - nothing too terrible... yet ;)
author's note | i've had this in the chamber for some time now, i just lost the inspo to write, which is why i haven't in a long time. this isn't a promise that i'll post more fics as they come to me, seeing as i'm a senior in college who has a fuck ton of other things to do. there will be a part 2 to this fic, but i couldn't tell you when it's coming :)
also, very much so listening to god is fair, sexy nasty by mac miller while writing this & starting the next part, so take that as you will ;)
unedited as hell so pls excuse any mistakes !
You always had this rivalry since the beginning of freshman year. This guy, Jake, would never show up to any of the classes the two of you had together, but always got the highest grades on every single goddamn exam that your Intro to Bio professor gave out. It infuriated you.
You figured that in the spring semester, you would be freed from the disappearing boy, but you weren’t. While the teacher called roll, everyone shouted out here. She landed upon his name, calling out to the class and looking through the rows of students. He had been there for orientation, sitting in one of the middle rows, slouched in his seat.
You planned to confront him the next day you had class together, on Wednesday, but Jake was nowhere to be found. Your roommate and your friends had heard your exhaustive theories as to why he was never in class. “Babe, you sound insane. Just let it go.”
But you couldn’t.
Competition lived deep within your roots, having an entire competition with the second top student in your graduating class in high school. Though the rage held between each other was never taken far outside of the academic realm, the two of you never thought to be friends and encourage one another. Thankfully, the two of you resolved the competition when the two of you realized you would be going into two very separate fields of study in college. 
Camren, who knew she was going to be a chemist from the time she first learned about chemistry, had told you she loved the competition – made it fun and kept things interesting. And there you were, going to school for Pre-Med with the same feeling. The two of you kept in contact, updating each other on the strive for greatness in college as well.
You kept a close relationship with a lot of your teachers, making sure to get on their good side before classes had really begun. You emailed most of them, especially your Anatomy and Physiology professor, Dr. Sahnya Heinz.
She was incredibly skilled in her field, leaving the active medical field to teach the new and future minds of medicine. It was a cliche line she delivered on the first day, but it encouraged that familiar competitive fire that dwelled within you.
You don’t quite remember how you came to figure out that Jake was ahead of you, but you had found out somehow from your professor, although it was an accident.
It made everything in you burn with anger and frustration. Anytime someone mentioned him, or mentioned the fact that you were second, you clenched your jaw and your teeth gritted together. Your friends had an inside joke that you were only mad because you had a huge crush on him.
“I barely even know what he looks like, Mel! I fucking hate the guy. Don’t start shit.” You’d plead, beer can in your hand in the lounge of some fraternity floor.
Over the next few semesters, you kept trying your hardest, spending most of your free time in the library, reading everything that you could to prepare for every exam. You wrote papers early, having them done at least three weeks in advance. As soon as you would be told about a new one, you’d immediately start finding sources.
You sauntered around campus, thinking that you would be way ahead of him. He still never showed up to any classes, aside from orientation and exam periods. You’d stare at him for a few moments while the teacher passed out the exam, looking over his face as much as you could.
His long hair would obscure your vision on occasion, making it hard to catch any of his features at all. From what you could see though, he had nice, full lips. His nose was something you could have stared at the entire exam period.
You watched him as he licked his lips, whispering a thank you to Heinz before grabbing his pencil from his desk and getting to work. You looked away from him as soon as Heinz put your exam on your desk, offering her a small smile and a quick thank you before getting to work.
It was almost spring break, meaning some of your assignments had been slowing, some of them had been increasing. A group of your friends from different majors told you about one of the lounge parties a fraternity on campus was throwing. “Sigma Tau has the worst lounge parties, Tamia. You know this.”
“They’re joining forces with the Delta’s though, so it’ll be better than normal! You have to come, you’ve always got your nose in a book. You haven’t drank with us in so long, I forget what you’re like when you’re drunk.”
“I don’t know… I need to work on this Midterm paper I have in Kainz’s class, it’s due next week.”
“Babe, it’s been done for weeks! You just keep editing it trying to find mistakes and there are none! I’ve literally read it five times. Please, go out with us, just tonight?”
You looked between Tamia and Mel, knowing in the end you would give into them anyways. “Ugh, fine! Tonight, and tonight only, just this once. If I don’t like it, though, I’m leaving and going to bed early.”
“You’ll have so much fun, I swear!” Mel and Tamia looked between each other, sharing expressions of excitement and happiness on their faces. You rolled your eyes, standing up from your chair.
You let them raid your closet, trying to throw something together quickly. Most of the time, Tamia and Mel never obeyed the dress code for the lounge parties, hating the idea of giving into the male gaze of the fraternity brothers. Tonight, however, was a bit different. The theme was Western, meaning it was cowboy hats and very tiny shorts.
You looked over the outfit that laid out in front of you, straw cowboy hat that Tamia had bought from Amazon (one for each of you), a pair of short shorts that may or may not show your ass a bit, and a red bandana top that Mel let you borrow last semester that you forgot to return. “I don’t know about this. I don’t even have the right shoes.”
“You forget we wear the same size, bitch, you’re going. No backing out.” They joked, tossing you a pair of white boots. “Just put that shit on while we heat up the curling iron, okay?”
“Fine, fine, okay.” You peel off your shirt, throwing on the one they picked out. Next to go were your pajama pants, which were replaced by the shorts. You kept the same socks on, knowing that nobody would see them anyways with the boots going up to the middle of your calf muscle. “I look fucking ridiculous.”
“You look fucking hot, now sit down while we do your hair and makeup,” Mel spoke, pulling out your desk chair while Tamia smiled wickedly with the curling wand in hand. You were nervous, looking at the both of them, but the good kind that settled under your skin and was left hidden behind the smallest smile.
You talked about upcoming exams with them while they did your hair and makeup, much to their dismay. They attempted to fill you in on the various drama situations going on around campus while you had been heavily plugged into your textbooks. You gasped often, finding shock and awe in some of the things they had been telling you about classmates.
They spoke about Jake, letting it slip that he had been planning on attending the party, joined at the hip with one of the girls he had been rumored to have been dating. One of the many. “Ugh, he just sounds like a douche. Gives me even more reason to hate him.”
“We’re not feeding into your delusion that he’s some douchebag. Dropping it.” Tamia spoke, putting her hands up in a surrender. Mel laughed, pulling away from you with an eyeliner pen in hand. “Maybe we’ll get you drunk enough to admit you like him.”
“I don’t like him, and I thought we were dropping the topic.” You looked at Tamia in the mirror, watching her face deadpan as she looked back at you.
“I have something hot in my hands, don’t be rude to me.” The three of you laughed, getting back into the rhythm of getting ready. You let them do their thing to you, curling the last bit of your hair and putting the finishing touches of highlighter on your brow bone.
You looked at yourself in the mirror, marveling at the job they did. You thanked them for getting you all dolled up, watching them change into their outfits. It was mostly just them taking off the sweats they were wearing, throwing them over the back of your desk chair. You took a few pictures with them in your mirror before finally deciding to head out.
The party had started a half an hour ago, walking into the party late like most people did. The three of you got in easily with matching the dress code, immediately looking for the drinks table. The boys in charge handed the three of you a free shot of anything you wanted. Mel chose for you, starting the night out roughly with a shot of Svedka.
You grabbed a Sprite from one of the boys in one hand, the shot of Svedka in the other. The three of you tapped your glasses together before downing the shot. The alcohol burned as it slipped down your throat, trying to soothe it with the taste and coolness of the Sprite. You shook a bit, throwing the cup away in a nearby trash can.
“That was fucking gross, I hate you so much for choosing Svedka.”
“I could’ve chosen something even more nasty, like Jack.” Mel laughed, leading the three of you over to a section in the lounge where you could stand a decent enough distance away from one another, instead of being piled on top of one another.
“I would have rather taken a shot of Jack, Mel.” You spoke, sipping more of your Sprite. Tamia pointed out a few of the people they had talked about earlier, letting you put names to faces.
In the midst, two of the Sigma brothers decided to start a dance battle, capturing the attention of those around them. Everyone joined in, gathering around the two guys. Mel and Tamia joined too, but you had slipped out of their grasp by telling them you had to use the bathroom.
You were happy to escape the party, sneaking out with a bottle of Smirnoff the boys had left unattended. You walked outside, taking a deep breath in. You were thankful to be met with the smell of fresh air, not smelling sweat and booze everywhere. Your peace and tranquility was ruined by someone’s voice, “Well, don’t you look adorable.”
Your head snapped towards the voice, seeing Jake sitting up against the bike rack with a cigarette between his fingers. “Shut up.”
“What? I can’t compliment you?”
“No,” you started, crossing your arms with the bottle still in your hand. “No, you can’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I hate you.” Jake looked at you, up and down, taking a drag of his cigarette. You screwed off the cap of the bottle, taking a pull. You tried your hardest to not make a face, looking away slightly when the familiar sting settled in your throat.
“Why do you hate me? I’ve never spoken to you before.”
“Do I have to have a reason?” You asked, walking closer to him.
“Suppose not. But if I knew why you hated me,” he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping on it with his boot. “Then maybe I could find a way to make you not hate me.”
“Unless you flunk your next exam, I guarantee that won’t happen.”
“Oh, I get it.” He chuckled, standing up from the bike rack he was leaning against. He grabbed his cigarette butt up from the ground, tossing it into the nearest garbage can. He turned towards you, staring at you with his brown eyes. “You’re just mad because I’m smarter than you.”
“You’re never in class. You shouldn’t be ahead of me.” You glared at him, lips moving into a frown.
“Just because I’m never there doesn’t mean I’m not getting the information. I work five, sometimes six days a week. We only have class three days a week. Typically, I gotta work those days. Heinz sends me the powerpoints and the assignment notes so I never miss anything.”
“Oh yeah? Where do you even work then?” You asked.
He chuckled, fingers brushing yours that were wrapped around the bottle. “Now if I told you that, it would ruin all the fun,” he looked you up and down once more, licking his lips slightly. “Well, maybe I’ll see you and your bottle inside.” 
You waited til the doors closed behind him to roll your eyes, and huff outwardly. You took the bottle of Smirnoff, turned on your heels and walked towards your dorm hall. You hated Jake. You really hated Jake.
Your midterms came and went. The stress decreased slightly, but only to be raised again as the end of the semester loomed around. Assignments started piling up, various papers and presentations due all around the same week. Since the end of Spring Break, you had been holed up in your room, left to your mountains of homework.
Your Microbio class had a presentation due that coincided with the research project you had been working on all semester long. Human Anatomy and Physiology (or affectionately known as BIO 312) had a major cumulative exam on the entire semester, which stressed you out more than any other homework assignment or exam you had.
Thankfully, your school held an all day event that attempted to boost the morale of the students on campus. Filled with a bunch of free things, you took advantage of everything offered.
Lined up on tables were various student organizations set up, with their own little games and prizes. A few of them had speakers that played the music they wanted to listen to, all speakers attempting to outman the other. However, the one that ended up winning was a tie dye station located in the lawn, handing out free t-shirts to dye.
One of the guys at the tie dye station had a wide smile on his face while his hands were dripping with dye. Setting your prizes down at a table where Tamia and Mel had put their things, you walked over to him. He welcomed you over with a smile, “Hey! Lookin’ to tie dye?”
“Yeah, I’m a medium.” You smiled at him, blocking the sun with your hand. He called over to Benny, asking him to pull a medium out for you. Benny handed you the shirt with a smile. “I’ve never dyed anything before.”
“Never?! That’s a crime against mankind, darlin’, let’s get this shirt dyed.” He spoke, talking you over the colors in each of the buckets. He explained to you some basic color theory, although you had remembered that from your high school painting class, you didn’t stop him; he was pretty when he spoke.
The curls on his head stuck out from the shaved sides, the gold of his earrings stood out underneath the blistering April sun. He licked his lips often, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. He helped you pick out the style you wanted, making sure the rubber bands were placed exactly where you wanted them. “I’ll dip them in the bucket for you so you don’t get your hands dirty.”
“Thank you. I could’ve managed on my own, but I definitely appreciate it.”
“Of course. What’s your name?” You offer up to him, before he lets out a chuckle. You question him with a pull of your eyebrows. “Jake talks about you.”
“You know Jake?”
“Yeah, he’s my twin.” As soon as the word left his mouth, you could see the resemblance; you almost scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. They were similar, especially in their features and their eyes, although the two of them had very distinct color differences. Josh, as he told you after dropping the bomb on you, had warmer eyes, filled with caramel colored hues of brown in relation to Jake’s colder tones; his eyes were a darker shade of brown, with the occasional gleam of flirtation laced within the reflection.
He spoke quite differently from Jake, mostly just with the sound of his voice. It matched their eyes, their personalities. Josh’s bright, bubbly stature followed in his voice, almost theatrical as he spoke. “I guess that makes sense, you two do kind of look alike. Minus the hair, of course.”
“Well, of course. Mine’s better,” you liked that about him - how kind his tone was. You attempted to grill him about what Jake was saying about you, curiosity flowing violently through your bloodstream as if it lit your body on fire. “He just says that you’re second in the Bio class you have with him, and that it makes you mad.”
“It does, Jake’s never there. I’ve seen him three times, and two of those times were for exams.” Josh wrung out the part that had been soaking in the dye for a bit, watching the water fall back into the bucket.
“Yeah, it’s cause he’s working all the time, if I’m honest. Jake stays home during the week to work at the nursing home in our hometown. We don’t really have a large CNA population, most of the people who work there are highschool kids, so Jake’s really been their guy. Especially since high school, as soon as he graduated he moved to full time. All the old ladies love him.” He snorts, dipping your shirt into the blue dye.
“I didn’t know that.” You thought he was lying about where he was, which is why guilt started to eat away at you. You felt terrible for making assumptions, but you couldn’t take any of that back now.
“Jake doesn’t talk to a lot of people, but we love him anyway.” You chewed at your bottom lip, rethinking your opinion of Jake. “You goin’ to the concert later tonight?”
“Hadn’t decided. Mel and Tamia want to, so I’ll probably end up going. Are you?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll probably go.”
“Do you know who’s playing?”
“Some local band I think? I’ve heard a lot of the girls think the frontman’s pretty handsome.” He spoke with a smirk. You promised him you’d go, just to see if the girls had been right. He handed you your t-shirt to hold while he grabbed you a plastic bag. He also handed you a piece of paper with instructions on how to take care of your new tie dye.
“Make sure when you wash it, you wash it by itself. Otherwise, you’ll dye all of your other clothes and believe me, you don’t want that,” he chuckled, as if he was speaking from experience.
You thanked him with a warm smile, waving to him before returning to your room. As soon as you got back, you opened your window, allowing the air flow to travel inside. It kept you cool, allowing you to walk around comfortably with a t-shirt and shorts on. You put your plastic bag in the closet of your room, writing on your white board to remember to take it out and wash it tomorrow.
You texted Mel and Tamia, knowing that Mel would probably have some smart comeback about why you want to go to the concert. It wasn’t that you didn’t join them on nights out, you just had a lot riding on your academic success. Not only because you were the first one in your family to go to college, but also because of your mass of scholarships that only continued to flow if your GPA was at a suitable level. Anything below a 3.2, and you would lose almost all of them.
To: The 3 Dumb Sluts
Are we going to the concert tonight?
From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Mel
Are you offering to come with us without us needing to beg and plead for you to join?
To: The 3 Dumb Sluts
Don’t make me take it back, Mel
From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Tamia
We’re absolutely going. Come to mine whenever you want to get ready :)
To: The 3 Dumb Sluts
The doors open at 8 right? I’ll be over about 5:30-6ish. Gotta finish up this paper for Heinz real quick
You locked your phone before they could scold you for doing homework on a day that was designated for relaxation and recuperation. You pulled out your Anat and Physio binder, pulling out the sources you printed off in the library. You ran through the last one with a blue highlighter between your teeth. 
You set an alarm on your phone for five o’clock, saving enough time for you to shower.  You were about halfway through the last page when your timer went off. You silenced it, attempting to hurriedly finish highlighting the page. The article was placed onto your desk, highlighter returned to the cup on your desk filled with various writing utensils.
You pulled out your shower caddy, putting it on top of your dresser before pulling out your robe. You laid it over the edge of your bed, removing all of your clothes. You threw them into your hamper and put on your robe. You slipped on your slides, grabbed your caddy and traveled to the bathroom.
Underneath the uneven streams from the showerhead, you thought about Jake.
Maybe your first impressions of him were wrong. When Josh told you about the nursing home back in their hometown, you felt instantaneously bad for assuming that he just never showed up. You knew from what Jake had told you, that he had work, but you figured that was just an excuse.
You bit at the skin of your lips, hands on your shoulders as you soaked the warmth of the water in. You were pulled out of your thoughts very quickly as someone flushed the toilet, making the water fade in from super hot to super fucking cold. You hated the school’s water system.
You finished your shower quickly, drying off with the towel slightly before putting your robe on and throwing your hair up into your towel. You walked back into your room, locking it behind you. You set your caddy back where it originally was.
You threw on a pair of jean shorts that hadn’t seen the light of day since early October, pairing it with a long sleeve shirt that you had gotten back in high school for Christmas. It was plain, brown, but hugged your body well. The sweatshirt debate lasted a few seconds before you remembered how hot it was going to be outside. A record temperature for mid-April, almost 80 degrees outside.
When you checked your phone getting back from the shower, it was just barely five thirty. You texted the groupchat again, asking if it would be cool to come over a half an hour earlier than you had originally said. You knew it was a dumb question, you would always be welcome in their room. You chuckled at Mel’s response of, “Are you fucking dumb? Of course you can come over. Bring wine if you have any left! No carry-in’s allowed at the concert.”
You put your phone down for a second and slipped on a pair of shoes that were comfortable enough for you to stand in for a long time. They used to be white, but had gotten progressively dirty from the years of use. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and slid a few different bottles of wine into your backpack, separated by extra clothing so the bottles didn’t clink together.
You walked down the stairs, out the door and over to the other dorm building across the walkway. You scanned your keycard to get into the building, walking through the hallways waving to the RA on duty, McKenna. She had been in a few of your classes and was always incredibly nice.
Her room this year was actually a few down from where you were living. McKenna was a great RA, knowing exactly how to handle the rowdiness of the floor while still keeping the resident’s respect. She didn’t bother them unless she needed to, and they didn’t bother her unless needed. She kept it underwraps about the underage drinking that would inevitably happen, mostly by telling the floor they could do what they want, as long as they were quiet by quiet hours (which was around ten thirty on the weekdays, and one in the morning on the weekends).
You took the elevator to the second floor of East Sunderland, getting off as soon as the doors opened. The booths that had previously been up had begun to dissipate, bringing the plastic tables back into the buildings they belonged in. You took a last glance at the people cleaning before heading into Mel and Tamia’s dorm building.
You knocked on the door, coming as soon as you announced yourself to Mel and Tamia. The girls laughed as you walked in, looking at a picture of Mel from when they were a kid. The two of them showed it to you as you settled your bag onto Mel’s chair in the corner of their room. “Your buck teeth! Oh my God, you were adorable, Mel.”
“Oh shut up, I bet you didn’t look any better.” Mel spoke to Tamia, making the three of you laugh. “Anyways, what wine did you bring?”
“The Barefoot we didn’t finish the other weekend, and then I still had some Rose, so I brought those over too. I wasn’t sure what we were feeling.” Tamia pulled some glasses from her shelves, passing them out to the two of you. You filled their glasses with the Rose you brought.
The three of you talked specifics on the plans for tonight, hitting up another fraternity party as soon as the concert ended. There were two separate ones going on at the same time, so the two of you weighed your options over which one to go to. “The Sigs are throwing one, but I’d rather die. Delta’s throwing one, too, we’ll go to theirs instead. And maybe see if anyone’s at the Sig party that we like and stop there before heading back to the dorms.”
You walked down with them to the Athletic Department, hoping to have gotten there early enough to get a good spot. As soon as the doors opened, you were filtered through the doors, making sure that you were students with the college. The three of you half ran to the barricade, settling yourselves against it on the right side, although still somewhat in the middle.
The show wouldn’t start for quite some time yet, the three of you talked amongst yourselves about upcoming finals, what you had to do for various classes. You also found a few people around you to chat to while you waited, hearing laughter roaring through various parts of the crowd.
A few students from the Admissions Office had taken the stage, playing a random playlist of music that matched what the band was going to be playing. Rock thundered through the speakers, filling audience members with anticipation. Rochel addressed the student body, “Hello everyone!” welcomed by the sounds of cheers and screaming.
“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the band comes on stage, so help us warm them up to the stage!” Everyone clapped, although some of the girls around you looked unenthused as they stared down at their phones. You checked yours for any text messages from any family members. You had nothing, so you put it back in your pocket.
Around four songs played before Rochel turned the microphone on again. Everyone shouted before she talked. “Well, it’s that time! Please, give a warm welcome to Greta Van Fleet!”
Rochel and the two other students walked off the stage, passing by what you had assumed to be one of the band members. He sat behind the drums, smiling and waving off into the crowd. You cheered for him along with Tamia and Mel, cheering just as loud when their bassist walked onto the stage. Both of their hair was longer, goofy smiles on their faces as they got situated with their instruments.
Your mouth hung open as you watched the last two boys walk on stage, seeing the twins. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. He found you after a moment, sending a smirk your way. You closed your mouth, glaring at him. Mel laughed at you, noticing your demeanor shift. “How we doin’ tonight everyone?”
Everyone cheered. “A lot of you might know me and Jake, seen us on campus and stuff. It’s wonderful to see all of you here, coming to support us as we celebrate the onslaught of spring! It’s been a particularly warm one today, so make sure to drink water! There’s plenty to go around.”
Jake started them off, pick between his fingers as he strummed the beginning chords to one of their songs. Some of the girls had begun to scream, shouting at Jake’s response to Josh’s little speech before he began playing. His signature smirk formed, watching the girls go crazy, eyes scanning the crowd before he found you again.
As Jake continued to play, he looked over to you any time he could. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, enthralled by the way he looked on stage. You tried your hardest, truly, to look at any of the other boys on the stage aside from Jake but you just couldn’t. He fit the stage just right, bringing the attention away from Josh and demanding to be seen by the entirety of the crowd. He belonged up there.
Jake went to the center of the stage during his solo. Josh lingered around the drummer, keeping to himself, drinking whatever was in his cup. They kept on playing as Jake took the spotlight, everyone cheering and screaming for him. You kept silent, wanting to hear him play. His fingers worked against the frets of the guitar, not before sliding down and up it quickly. 
You tried to hide the awe you were in, but your friends knew. They saw it written all over your face. The frustration and annoyance you felt when you first spotted Jake on stage dissipated the second his guitar solo began. You swallowed thickly, watching as his attention turned from his guitar to you, pointing it in your direction. Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs pressed together.
This was going to be a long night.
The second the concert was over, Josh thanked everyone for coming. His smile was wide as he waved goodbye to everyone, walking off next to Jake who had his guitar by the neck before he passed it off to one of the stage hands. Josh put his hands on his shoulders as they walked off stage.
You stuck around mostly waiting for the crowd to die down before trying to leave the building. Mel and Tamia talked about the show, saying that it was fucking dope, commenting on how excellent Jake’s playing was. You didn’t speak about Jake’s playing, mostly praising Josh for his spectacular performance. “I never expected that voice to come out of him, how heavenly.”
“Talking about me?” Jake cuts through your conversation, walking over to you with Josh not far behind. You roll your eyes. Tamia and Mel congratulate him on such an amazing performance, gushing about how sweet his guitar looks. “Why thank you, ladies.”
“Mel! I didn’t think you were going to be able to come.” He gushed, wiping his hands on the sides of his khaki shorts he had changed into.
“Yeah, well, Miss Quiet over here wanted to see her archnemesis, didn’t you?”
“I-I–” You turned your head slightly towards Jake, who had an amused smirk written all over his face. “I did not, Mellie, stop lying.”
“By the redness of your cheeks, sweetheart, I’d say she was telling the truth.” You had barely noticed that Mel, Tamia and Josh had slipped away from the two of you, leaving you alone.
“I didn’t even know you were playing.” You admitted shyly, hiding underneath a guise of innocence.
“Even if you did, you looked pretty hot and bothered by my playing.” You held the back of your arms, trying hard to maintain eye contact with him. You looked into his eyes, they were staring straight at you.
“Yeah, sure. I actually came because Josh said he was going. He neglected to mention that he was going to be singing,” you looked at Josh who wore a smile that read ‘guilty as charged’ before patting you on the shoulder.
“Hey, you didn’t ask. You just asked if I was going.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled slightly. “Anyways, Sam and Danny are gonna spend the night in my room, so I’ll have to find somewhere else to be tonight. Are you guys going to either of the frat parties tonight?”
“We’re going to the Delta party. The Sigs’ reputation is not the best, and I don’t feel like seeing whether or not it’s right.”
“That is completely understandable. I shall see you ladies there then. You coming, Jake? We still have a lot to put away.”
“Yeah, in a second,” he turned towards Josh who had begun to walk away, waving him off before turning back to the three of you. “I hope you guys enjoyed the show, maybe I’ll catch up with you at the party.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, actually, I would.” He smiled at you before joining the other boys cleaning up their amps and cords.
“Jesus Christ, the two of you just need to fuck or something. I don’t think I can handle another interaction like that,” Mel joked, making a gagging face when she finishes her sentence. You pushed at her arm, turning around and walking out of the gym.
Tamia and Mel giggled profusely about your and Jake’s rivalry. The two even started making bets on when the two of you would finally ‘get it on’, as Tamia put it. You just rolled your eyes at the conversation, changing the subject to something different.
The party, though filled with lots of fun and drinking, was a bust. While Josh had shown up with his younger brother and his brother’s friend, as you learned, in tow, Jake was nowhere to be found. You thought to ask Josh why he wasn’t there, but he was too busy dancing with Micah. Through the grapevine, you learned that Micah and Josh had been together since high school.
You stayed around the party for almost two hours before you wanted to go back. A small part of you had wished Jake had actually come. You wondered if maybe the two of you would get along if you put your competitive nature aside. You tried not to dwell on thoughts of Jake’s absence for too long, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night with your girls. But when you had enough of the party, you shouted in Mel’s ear to let her know you wanted to leave.
Mel and Tamia had made sure you got back alright about two hours into the party. Your legs were tired and your feet had begun to hurt. The two of them stumbled with you back to the door of your building, making sure you were inside before leaving to go back. They almost came in with you, until you insisted otherwise.
Laying on your bed with your head pointed towards the ceiling you started thinking about Jake again. What was his reason for not being at the party? Did he just make those comments beforehand just to rile you up? It seemed like the only valid reason your impaired mind could come up with.
You grabbed your phone, almost dropping it on the floor. You sluggishly opened Instagram, and searched for Jake’s profile. You scrolled through, looking at the few photos he did have on his page. Most of the pictures he had were of his guitar, or places he’s traveled. You were sent into a panic when you realized you had accidentally liked an older picture of Jake’s, one from freshman year of college. Hurriedly, you unliked it and immediately locked your phone.
That had been a few days ago.
Now it was Wednesday and your first final exam was here. It was for the class you shared with Jake, BIO 312.  It wasn’t exactly final exam time, but Professor Heinz was going to be away at a conference for a week starting Friday. You didn’t mind, though, since it spaced out your other finals enough to have a decent amount of time to study for them.
You sat at your desk, looking over your notecards one last time before the exam began. A frequent look around the room and you noticed Jake walking in, going to a random seat a couple rows in front of you. He set his bag down next to him, before bending down to grab his laptop. He noticed you watching him and sent a wink your way.
You looked away as you tried to hide the rush of rosy skin that fanned over your cheeks and heated up your ears. You tried to ignore him again until at least when the test started, embarrassed that you got caught looking at him. Your phone pinged and you pulled it out of your bag to look at it, as well as turn it on silent.
jacobtkiszka wants to send you a message.
You swallowed and hit the notification taking you straight to the message.
“Person who turns their test in last pays for coffee?”
Your lips curved into a small smile, feeling your fingers type the first thing that comes to your head.
“Hope you brought your wallet with you, Kiszka.”
You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it back into your bag. The professor walked through the door, setting her things down on the desk in the front of the room. Her coffee mug still had steam coming from it, freshly poured. A quick look of her watch after getting settled and it was time to start the exam. “Okay, everyone. It’s time for class. Take out your laptops and begin your exam. You may leave when you have finished. Thank you for a great semester, and good luck.”
The questions on the exam were all ones that you knew and had studied for for weeks. It was strenuous, trying to remember everything on the cumulative exam. You had hoped it would go quickly and you would answer them faster than Jake could. Occasionally, you turned to look at Jake, seeing if maybe he was trying to look at you too.
With one question left of your exam, you click the answer and press submit after a minute of debate. You had a bad habit of second guessing yourself occasionally; it was actually the bane of your testing experiences. You hated when you felt confident about an answer, until you really sat with the other possible answers it could be.
You put your laptop back into your bag, zipped it up and noticed that Jake had already left. You cursed to yourself, knowing that now you had to buy Jake a coffee. You waved goodbye to your professor with a smile and walked out the doors. Jake sat outside of the classroom at one of the tables they had throughout the building. “Whatcha reading?”
“Josh recommended it to me, but I’m going to be honest, I fucking hate this book.” He laughed, shoving it into his bag. “You know any good coffee shops around here? I’m kind of tired of Starbucks.”
“I just so happen to know the best coffee shop in town, but it is a bit of a walk, if you don’t mind that?” You asked, walking through the door that Jake was holding before muttering a thank you to him. 
“I could also drive, if you’re okay with that.”
“I’m more than okay with that,” you chuckle, letting him know that your dorm building had enough stairs; any chance you could get to use an elevator, or get driven somewhere, you would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.
The drive was short in comparison to the twenty minute walk it would have taken to get to the shop. Jake tried to offer the radio to you, but you let him play what he wanted to listen to. You didn’t know exactly who was playing, but the blues music that played through the speakers was a breath of fresh air.
Your typical shuffle had a plethora of music from differing genres, whether that be rap or old country. You hadn’t known much when it came to blues music, especially the difference between good blues music and bad. Eventually, you got the courage to ask who was playing and Jake answered, letting you know that the song was by Buddy Guy. “It’s called She Suits Me To A T. I tried for weeks to learn this song when I first started playing music more seriously.”
“This is the coffee shop, at the next corner.” You watched his hand as he made a right turn, noticing him steering with just the palm of his hand. Letting the leather steering wheel glide back to its original position in his hand, elbow propped on the door with the window rolled down.
It’s all you thought about on your way into the coffee shop, completely relying on autopilot. Your responses to Jake were almost textbook, one word sentences that could continue the conversation without much effort. “What’re you thinking of getting?”
“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I usually have them surprise me,” you admit, shoving your hands into your jacket. “Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not. That’s the gamble you take.”
“I like that a lot, actually. I think I’ll have them surprise me too, if you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.” You smiled at Jake before he went to order for the two of you. You found a place to sit in the meantime, offering a spot towards the windows so you could watch people come and go, each on their own paths of life.
By the time Jake sat down, both of the coffees were in his hand. After a few questions, Jake set the iced drink down in front of you, and the hot drink in front of himself. “Yours is an iced chai, with brown sugar syrup and vanilla. Mine is some sort of tea, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. I just wanted to remember what she put in yours in case you liked it.”
“Oh,” you spoke, bringing the cup towards you. “Thank you, that’s really sweet. Do you like your drink?”
“You know, it’s really not bad. I wouldn’t have gotten it otherwise, but it’s really not bad.”
“You hate it.”
“I hate it. It’s not good.” The two of you chuckled before you offered him a sip of your drink. “Mhmm,” he moaned. “That’s good, oh my God.”
The two of you continued small talk, whether it was over the classes you had previously taken, memories of parties from past years – anything. You shared previous high school experiences, mostly about the ridiculous things that were considered parties in your teenage years.
Conversation with Jake was surprisingly a lot easier than you thought it would be. Especially since you’ve hated him pretty much your entire college career. You figured he’d be stuck up, aware of his academic achievements and ready to flaunt them in front of anyone who’d listen.
He was the opposite. His sentences were wrapped with kindness, and the reflection in his voice seemed nothing but positive. His voice was like silk, he could’ve talked you into damn near anything as long as his voice sounded like that. It hurt when the conversation slowed, spending a few moments to take in the scene around you two, as well as finally being able to drink more of your drink (which was very delicious, it was almost like crack).
“How long have you been playing guitar?” You asked after the silence became almost uncomfortable to sit with.
“Oh jeez. I’ve been playing since I was… like three? Yeah, three.” You stared at him with eyes slightly wide, mouth agape. “What?”
“N-Nothing, that’s just a really long time. You’re what, 21 now?” He clarified that he was only twenty, his birthday roughly a week away. You poked fun at him, mentioning how you were older, even if it was by less than a year.
“Josh is throwing us a birthday party, if you want to come. Since it’ll be our 21st, we’re having it at our parents cabin on Lake Michigan. You’re welcome to bring Mel and Tamia if you’d like. Sam and Danny are going to be there, even though they’re underage, but we’re gonna pretend like they’re older.” Jake spoke with one last sip of his drink, letting the empty cup echo on the table as he set it down.
“I will let Mel and Mia know. I can’t make any sure decisions without talking to them first, but I’m pretty damn sure that they’ll say they would love to go.”
“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll say no either. They seem pretty adamant that you have a little crush on me or something,” he said, putting your cups inside of a bus tub to be picked up and washed.
“I don’t have a crush on you,” you laughed, walking out of the coffee shop with Jake. “I actually hate you, remember?”
“You may say that you hate me, but you’re not really good at showing it.”
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thehollowwriter · 18 days
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The Official Bio of Cosme Da Costa
Basic Info:
Name: Cosme Da Costa
Homeland: Seas of the Shaftlands
Species: Portuguese Man O'War (jellyfish/bluebottle)
Birthday: March 10th
Age: 32
Height: 190cm in human form, in his mer form he's about... 300cm (most of the length is his tentacles)
Dominant hand: Right
Occupation: NRC's head of discipline, he also teaches astrology, NRC alumnus
Unique magic: No name yet, but the basic idea is that he can paralyse just about anyone until he decides to let them go
Family:
•Unnamed siblings
•Unnamed parents
•Unnamed niece
Possibly dating Crewel??? (This out of place addition was brought to you by Cater Diamond, aka NRC's resident rumour mill)
Preferences:
Hobbies: Playing guitar, stargazing
Likes: Making lanterns, mapping constellations, fashion, Crewel (goddamn it Cater stop it), reading, the stars
Dislikes: Rule breakers, Riddle (ironically enough), cloudy nights, rain
Favourite food: Sushi
Least favourite food: Unagi
Appearance:
Cosme is tall and thin, almost noodle-y, with dark skin and dark blue eyes. His hair is purple, white, and blue and is short and slicked back. He's got fangies :)
In his mer form, he does not have a tail but extremely long tentacles that are blue, white, and purple and do, in fact, paralyse you just like his UM, but the effects are temporary and he does not control them. His skin is dark blue, and his fins are purple. He has claws as well.
What his hair looks like (just pretend it's short, though maybe it was long when he was a student?)
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Personality:
Still in development, but my basic idea is that he's a guy that seems very serious, but he's actually pretty chill (at least he likes to say he is but he has a short temper lol) and he mainly wants what's best for the students of Night Raven, which is why he took his position in the first place. He is very wise and creative and thinks of unusual solutions to problems students come to him with. He's stone cold and vicious when he wants to be (especially of something that's happened puts people in danger) and is very unlikely to feel sorry for the students he punishes.
Some Fun Facts/Extra Info:
•He's Portuguese, I'm not sure what the twst equivalent is, though?
•When he gets really mad or emotional, he starts swearing or just talking in Portuguese
•He finds Riddle incredibly annoying, I'm sorry. He even wanted him to have his position taken away because of how ridiculous he was. Like, yes, it's good that Riddle takes rules seriously, but seven damn it most of the rules Riddle takes so seriously don't even make sense. Wants to yell at him to stop reporting/punishing students for breaking Queen of Hearts rule number who-really-gives-a-
•He takes great interest in Finn's paintings
•Found it amusing when students came to him complaining about Azul's contracts
•He's friends with Sam
•He does not like Vargas
...........................................
A/N: New oc! Tbh I got the idea for him and my other oc while watching Blue Planet 2 in bio lmao
Tagging: @distant-velleity @krenenbaker @cyanide-latte @ramshacklerumble @kitwasnothere @the-banana-0verlord @officialdaydreamer00 @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @jovieinramshackle @boopshoops @oya-oya-okay @whspermy-name @cynthinesia @elysia-nsimp @br3adtoasty @quartztwst @skrimpyskimpy
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awkwardthings6 · 4 months
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i know its been discussed before but ppl trying to go “it’s not transphobia, it’s biology!” is sooooo funny bc as a biology student every biology class i’ve taken is like “so. there are technically two sexes. however that’s also a blatant lie” & it’s to the point where I am more likely to run into transphobic folks in any other discipline/class type. that one blue haired girl in my creative writing class who can’t learn anyone’s pronouns properly has NOTHING on the gym bro in my bio class who has no idea what’s going on ever but reacts to transphobia by going “um. that’s cringe bro” and had this conversation with my bio professor:
professor, about to go into genetic mutations: for simplicity, we consider there to be two sexes-
gym bro, immediately puffing up his chest angrily like a bird, sitting next to the they/he in our class: no, dude, there are like thirty!! you can’t be saying that shit!! professor, after a pause: so you’re technically right but I think you’re thinking of gender
gym bro, instantly going back to golden retriever: oh yeah… carry on! :)
like biology isn’t always perfect as a field but in my experience the closest you come to transphobia in there is a guy who Doesn’t Totally Get It (But Wants To So Bad And Is Genuinely Trying). one of these days I think someone should invite a terf to a bio conference to watch their mind get blown
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14dayswithyou · 2 years
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MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT ! Welcome to the official "14 Days With You" Tumblr! The FAQ, post masterlist, and general rules can be found below! Also, this is a side blog — meaning all replies and follows will come from @cutiesigh! ^^
PLEASE KEEP IN MIND ! 💖 Put your age in your profile, otherwise you will be blocked. 💖 Reblogs and replies are very appreciated and welcomed!! 💖 Read the entire F.A.Q below in order to send asks correctly.
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itch | discord | twitter | main | #14dwy tag
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▋MASTERLIST !
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💖 14DWY Lore updates & blog post retcons (check reblogs for current versions) 💖 Official character sheets + blank template (outdated) 💖 Official character relationship chart 💖 "Understand my ship in 5 minutes" sheet (outdated) 💖 NSFW Alphabet: Ren | [REDACTED] | Teo 💖 All of the 14DWY fics I've written 💖 All of the 14DWY art I've made 💖 Frequently Asked Questions
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▋F.A.Q !
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What is Ren's real name? Try and guess it!
Are Ren and [REDACTED] the same person? Yes, they are the same person. "[REDACTED]" is his real self and "Ren" is a persona he created specifically for Angel.
Will we get to see/learn more about [REDACTED]? You'll learn more about [REDACTED] in Day 7, but getting Ren to remain as his real self will all depend on the choices you make in the game.
How old is Ren? Ren is one year younger than you, but at least 18! However if you are 18, then he’d be one month/day/hour younger than you instead.
What is Ren's ___? Ren is non-binary (AMAB + prefers masculine and gender-neutral titles), uses he/they pronouns, born on February 14th, around ~6'5", half Japanese and American, and pan/demisexual.
Does Ren have a Spotify playlist? Yes! Here's a playlist full of songs that make me think of him, and here's a playlist full of songs that I personally think he'd listen to. Please look at my Spotify profile for the rest of the cast.
What are the cast's sexualities? Pronouns? etc. Here are their birthdays, here are their sexualities, and here are their pronouns.
What does the “canon” / “blog canon” / etc. tag mean? Posts tagged with "canon" means it complies with the official 14DWY universe set for the game, "blog canon" means it only applies to the universe set for this blog, "AU canon" means it's set in an entirely separate universe with its own lore, and "non canon" means the post is just for fun and shouldn't be taken seriously.
When will Day ___ come out? Whenever I feel like it. Please understand that I am a full-time university student who also works a part-time job, so it's difficult for me to make time to work on 14DWY.
Where is the best place to find updates? The 14DWY Discord would be the best place to receive game/development updates (as well as interacting with the community), though I do crosspost major updates on Tumblr and Twitter after a week or so.
Will there be a mobile version? No. My main priority is releasing builds for PC/Mac for now.
How many love interests are there? Just Ren. And although you can get a romantic ending with some of the other cast members, they won't have a dedicated "route" like Ren.
Do you have a Patreon / KoFi / Kickstarter / etc? I have a Ko-Fi now (purely for art commissions), but please continue to keep your money! Just knowing that you enjoy 14DWY is more than enough support for me!
Do you have an F.A.Q tag? Yes! Here's a masterlist of other frequently asked questions, and here's the general #FAQ tag for even more questions I get asked on a regular basis. Please check them out before asking something!
Is there anything you won't write about? I don't write about scat/piss, incest, noncon, self harm/suicide, major character death (Angel, Ren, Violet, etc. to avoid spoilers), pedophilia, or anything else of that nature.
Why haven't you answered my question yet? It probably made me uncomfortable, you didn't put your age in your bio, you didn't read this entire post properly, or I've answered it before.
How do I ask a question? To ensure you've read the rules: please include any of the following phrases in your message. Otherwise, I won't answer it.
Meowdy Saint! ^^
Say hi to renren for me
The 14DWY brainrot is real... >_<
This angel has another question! \o
I'm here to Redeem my kiss from [14DWY character] for reading the pinned post.
hehe >:3... hehesmirk, even 😼
Once you've selected a phrase, you can submit your question here (or use the ask button above!!) I'll occasionally update these phrases, so make sure to check before you send an ask!
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▋TAGLIST !
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Use the tags below for easier navigation!
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