#they should hand this to you at the end of semester instead of the grade report or whatever

[lipstickontheglass1985]

college student wrapped:

you skipped 40 lectures!

you spent 12 weekends alone in your room!

you handed in 7 assignments overdue! your most delayed assignment took you 2 weeks after the deadline!

you missed your bus 42 times!

you've consumed a total of 100000 mg of caffeine!

your most common sunday evening moods were: scared, desperate and depressed!

on average, you considered dropping out 1,5 times a week!

#making this post at 4am if anyone cant tell #they should hand this to you at the end of semester instead of the grade report or whatever #thots #wrapped 2022 #<- i think its funny enough to tag it properly but i have zero idea what tags to use. sad!

[mellowwillowy]

"Oh..." Your boyfriend secretly checked your scorecard before you did and was greeted with a line of miserable A until his eyes landed on a B. This would surely take a taxing toll on your mind.

"Hmm..."

He started to hum, what should he do? Hack through the website and change the inputted number for you? What if the scoring system was filed through physical form too?

I really hope you would just shrug it off and say your classic 'It had happened, what more could I do?' instead of stressing yourself with it.

Blue pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squinted shut as he tried to find a solution for this. Your scholarship is at stake, edged to the despairing ending. But there might be chances that your scholarship was only a one-semester thing and this could ease the burden on your mind.

Hacking through the website system is not a problem but ensuring that your score is true to the one inputted online is the real problem here. Bribery would work but should he risk it all? Should he really taint something so pristine, something so you?

Jaw clenched tightly, the urge to throw the mouse across the room is increasing. Why must the professor go through such trouble to give you a ridiculous grade? The unreasonable one here is her and not you.

"God... dammit-!" With a flick of his wrist, the mouse shattered into pieces as it hit the ground. "This fucking pebble-like old hag, why must you trouble me with this bullshit." He cursed under his breath as though he was the one unbenefited from this instance, face darkened while his blue eyes glinted in fury.

Upon a moment of silence, Blue decided to save you from this headache. He started to work on his PC again, this time to hack through the website and change your supposed score into an A.

"Whatever, not a thing that I can't manage. I suppose a visit with a wrapped gun would work or whatever, maybe a wrapped nail-packed lunch... or just poisonous flower..." His mumblings were mostly drowned with the clackings of the keyboard, "or maybe just a branded bag... or something better."

Something of his forte.

"Maybe some fresh blackmail material... or perhaps, debt."

---

"Woahhh~! Look, Blue! Look! I aced it all! A whole A!"

Blue laughed at your excitement as he easily lifted you up and twirled you around, "Guess this call for a celebration? What about a trip to your favorite diner and bust all their menu?"

You urged him to drop you down before you hop excitedly, "Yes! Let's get them now!"

Chuckling to himself, he thought to himself, Today is our good day so I shouldn't bother myself with that old hag just yet. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after. Any day but today.

"Let's fill this tummy with its expected reward, come." He held you by your hand toward the front door.

#Blue the Boyfriend #LIfE Project #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #Yandere Scenarios #Yandere Imagines #Yandere OC #Yandere x You #You bet this is a vent post

[etherealyoungk]

college boyfriend!chan

because i really wanted to write something with these pictures of chan <3

college bf!chan who had a crush on you ever since you joined, and it took him a whole year and a half before he gathered the courage to finally talk to you and (clumsily) ask you out. chan likes you so much and is always waiting for you by your locker or outside of your class so you both can go to lunch together. he's just so enamored by you really.

college bf!chan who would see your schedules for the new semester and see if you had any classes together. but you didn't since you both were doing different courses. you just happened to have one class a week together and he's just complaining about how he's supposed to spend the entire day without out?? that's a crime in his opinion. so the one class he's with you he's gonna flirt with you nonstop, sending you cute smiles and winks and air kisses because he didn't get a seat next to you and ended up sitting at the other end of the lecture hall. he'll def be the type to pass little love notes to you during class if he manages to sit next to you. and he's also gonna hold your hand underneath the table the one class you have together. he's just so enamored by you really.

college bf!chan who would always aks for a goodluck kiss before a test or exam because why not. "they really do help, last time you forgot to kiss me and my grade dropped", he says with the most serious face and how can you even say no to that cute face.

college bf!chan who loves having little library study dates with you and he brings all your favorite snacks. he'll say "okay let's study for 1 hour and then take a break", but he's getting distracted within the first 15 minutes and scooting his chair closer to yours as he leans his head against your shoulder. "one hour isn't over genius", you tell, knowing well what he's trying to do. "hm i think i need a recharge kiss", he says, lifting his head up as he looks at you. "please?", he adds, puckering his lips. you give him a knowing look but give him a peck anyways. he proceeds to feed you some chips and looks at what you're studying.

college bf!chan who convinced you to skip class to watch a movie and you couldn't even say no because he'd already booked the tickets. so that's how you were both in the theater watching a movie instead of being in class. but you didn't really care, seeing chan smiling and eagerly watching the movie he was so excited made your heart full. he'll spoil you with an added dinner date too, which ends up being mcdonalds but who are you to complain, these were the best kind of dates.

college bf!chan who would hate seeing you stressed out and anxious during exams season and complained about how exams are actually stupid and should be banned. he'll make sure you don't overwork yourself by staying up late, pulling all-nighters - because he knows you've done it before and hates seeing you breakdown later.

college bf!chan who attended a class for you when you were down with a nasty cold and took the time to make notes for you so you wouldn't miss out and have to stress out over catching up. the notes he took were cutely messy and scattered but he did mange to get down the important information. he'll even be ready to do the assignment for you, but you tell him it's okay, feeling bad. he cups his cheeks in his hands as he tells you he'd do anything for you and this is the least he can do before he's giving you a warm hug. you did end up getting a decent grade for the assignment because of chan.

college bf!chan who will spoil you after your exam, treating you to a cute lunch and buying you your favortie cake as a little celebration for getting through exam season. expect lots of handholding as you both walk hand in hand.

college bf!chan who would smile and be your biggest hypeman when you're presenting your presentation to the whole class. he'll also be a little goofy, shooting you smiles and winks and you're trying not to smile too hard and laugh at his antics. he'll even write a" y/n is the best" with a little heart on a small piece of paper and hold it up, shooting you a silly smile as you see what he's done and bite your lip, trying not to grin. the moment your presentation is over, you're gathering your stuff back and going back to your seat, whisper yelling at chan. "what were you doing!", you say as you put your stuff on the table and sit down. luckily you both were in the back so no one could hear or pay much attention to you both. "i was supporting my lovely partner who worked so hard on their presentation" "by trying to make me laugh?", you say deadpan. "what no i was being supportive...baby cmon. fine next time i won't be supportive i guess", he says, frowning as he crosses his arms. "you're such an idiot, my idiot", you say, smiling, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "thank you", you add and he finally cracks into a smile and he intertwines his hand in yours.

college bf!chan who's always supportive of whatever you decide to do. he's your little pillar of support and you're so grateful to him for being with you.

taglist: @daisycheols @ylliris-hanniehae @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @joshuaahong @fairyhaos @rubywonu @gam3bo1z @cutiepatutie13 @ibsysbsfunsbs @rksbae @kyeomyun @icyminghao

#chan <3 #skye's writing #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #seventeen soft hours #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt dinosvt #svt soft hours #svt scenarios #svt drabbles #svt reactions #dino imagines #dino fluff #dino scenarios #dino x reader #lee chan imagines #lee chan fluff

[supernovafics]

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐍

pairing: professor!steve harrington x professor!fem!reader

word count: 6.8k words

summary: in which it had been twelve years since you last saw steve harrington. and you never thought about him, mainly because you’d forced yourself not to. but, suddenly, it was hard to avoid thoughts or reminders of him when after all of those years, you finally saw him again. it was an abrupt moment that oh so quickly brought back memories and old feelings that managed to do a number of things; confuse, scare, and worry you. after everything that happened between you two, you fully believed that you would never want to talk to him again. but maybe that was the exact thing that needed to happen.

warnings: explicit language, mentions of cheating, a bit of fluff, implied smut, a shit ton of angst but with a happy ending

author’s note: this took forever and it's insanely long but i love the way it turned out<33 the rest of the trilogy will be out next, so "august" and then "betty" coming (very) soon!! (full "folklore" album series masterlist here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“and when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Fall Semester 1996

You rarely ever thought about your life pre-Rhode Island. Mainly because you never wanted to, but also because it felt so far in the past that there was never any reason to focus on what used to be. 

You segmented your life into two phases. One, before you left your hometown, and, two, the moment you drove past the “Leaving Hawkins” sign and never looked back, refraining to listen to the part of the sign that told you to “Come Again Soon.” 

It had been nearly twelve years since you left the small Indiana town, and there wasn’t one moment where you ran into anyone that you once knew from that “before” life, which, in turn, meant that you never had any reason to think about Hawkins.

Until you did run into someone. And it was probably the worst possible person you could’ve ever run into. 

Steve fucking Harrington.

You would’ve rather seen Simon Gardener— your crush from sixth grade who you’d thrown up in front of when the two of you got paired up on a Science project— than Steve. 

But, now here he was, standing barely twenty feet away from you. You’d nearly dropped the coffee you’d waited almost twenty minutes for from your favorite coffee shop. Instead, you spilled some on your hand and only inwardly winced at the feeling because you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself. 

You almost turned around and walked out of the building you just walked into, but your office was right down the hallway that Steve was currently standing in the middle of along with the head of the English Department, Dan. And now that there was spilled coffee on your hand you really needed to go in there and rummage through the drawer of your desk that contained a bunch of leftover napkins from random nights when you’d order takeout to your office.

Before you could contemplate further about what your next course of action should be, Dan spotted you and called your name, waving you over to where he and Steve were standing. 

“Hi, good morning,” You greeted him, expertly avoiding eye contact with Steve because you didn’t want to see his reaction to seeing you for the first time in what pretty much felt like forever.

“Let me introduce you to the new addition to the History department upstairs,” Dan said and then gestured to Steve, which forced you to finally look at him. “Steve Harrington.” 

You could tell he was surprised to see you, but he hid that surprise by smiling at you, and you hated that even after all of these years, his smile still managed to do something to you. 

Now that you were closer to him, you could see some minor differences about him. His hair was a bit shorter, nothing too crazy or dramatic, but you noticed how his “iconic” hair was a bit more tame compared to how it used to be. And somehow he managed to get a little taller, only a couple of inches, but still you noticed that too. 

He overall looked older, which obviously made sense because twelve years would do that to a person. However, there was still something all too familiar about him. That same boyish presence that you had gotten so used to seeing still lingered on him. Behind his eyes, you saw exactly that boy you fell in love with that one summer. 

The summer that you never really thought about; in fact, you’d forced yourself not to think about it. But, now with him right in front of you, random flashbacks to moments from that July and August, especially August, were the only things circling your mind. 

Your loud laughs and wide smiles as you swam in his pool and let your body wrap around his underneath the water, your drunken talks until the sun came up, the makeout sessions in his car that almost always led to doing other things in his bed since his parents were never home. 

You pushed those memories far away, just as quickly as they resurfaced. 

“Hi,” You said to him and forced a small smile. 

You could tell that he was studying you just as you had been studying him, taking note of what you looked like now and comparing that to the version of you that he used to know. Whatever differences you had, you felt like they were subtle like his were, and just came with the territory of aging twelve years, but maybe he saw something else. He was the only person who you felt was able to actually look inside of you; he had known the ins and outs of who you were.   

“She’s a Professor in the English department,” Dan told Steve, and you were insanely grateful for Dan’s presence at that moment because you knew that it would be hell if you had been alone with Steve right then. “Oh, what happened to your hand?”

You looked down at your hand, somehow you had actually forgotten about the spill that happened only moments ago. 

“Little coffee mishap,” You said with a small, awkward laugh. “I have some napkins in my office, though, so I’m just going to head in there.” You looked at Steve and directed another forced smile at him, you had a feeling you’d be doing that a lot now. “Nice to meet you.” 

You mentioned something to Dan about seeing him at a faculty meeting later and then headed to your office, which was only about ten feet away. 

When it was just you alone behind the shut door of your office, your brain could finally process everything that had just happened. 

Steve was here. Not Hawkins, not Indiana, Rhode Island. And not only was he simply in Rhode Island, but he now worked at the college you had been working at for the past two and a half years. 

The only word you could think of at that moment was “Fuck,” and then you couldn’t help but mutter it under your breath. You took a sip of your coffee and let the familiar sweet and slightly bitter taste soothe your nerves.

Barely thirty minutes later— after trying your hardest to finish up the planning for a lecture you had been working on for the past few days but failing miserably because your mind couldn’t help but wonder why Steve was here of all places— you were stepping out of your office and almost crashed right into him.

“Jesus Christ,” You yelped; once again so surprised to see him. 

“I swear I was about to knock and this is just freakishly weird timing,” He quickly told you. “I wasn’t being a creep and waiting for you to come out.”  

“Okay,” You said with a small nod. Somehow his nervousness at that moment made you feel less nervous. “Um, what’s up?”

“Can we talk, maybe?”

“I have a class in fifteen minutes, so I can’t now,” You told him as you glanced down at the watch on your wrist. “But, um, maybe soon, yeah?” 

You were completely lying, there was no way you were going to talk to him soon; at least not about what you assumed he wanted to talk about. You refused to do that.

Luckily Steve couldn’t see through your lie, or if he did, he didn’t call you out on it. Instead, he nodded at your words before you walked away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“'cause i knew you. steppin' on the last train marked me like a bloodstain. i knew you. tried to change the ending peter losing wendy.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Somehow, and much to your grateful surprise, you rarely ever saw Steve. And when you did, because he was only just upstairs so it was sort of inevitable, there were only quick passing glances shared between you two along with tight-lipped smiles and small waves; both of you too busy to have any kind of actual conversation with one another.  

However, you did manage to learn a few things about him over the past month he’d been there. You heard through the grapevine— said grapevine being various faculty members that seemed to grow a quick liking to Steve— that he was taking over Tamara Wilson’s two Early European History classes for the rest of the Fall semester because she went on maternity leave, and in the Spring he’d be teaching it again along with a U.S. history course. 

None of that information answered the one question constantly running through your mind, though. 

What the hell was he doing here?

Because you had to admit, you were so curious to know about all of it. How he was here, why he was here, how this coincidence could’ve happened. 

But, you also really didn’t want to talk to him because you had the strongest feeling that the conversation would also involve the past, that summer, and how much you didn’t want that to happen outweighed your curiosity.

Therefore, on the night of the college’s annual Winter Gala, the first instance that could actually allow you two to talk to one another, you still tried your hardest to avoid him. 

You had always hated these kinds of events because they were solely used to schmooze alumni and other donors to get them to give the school money, and even though you understood the need for that, you still didn’t enjoy attending. However, you knew that you always had to show face, at least for an hour or two. 

And you made it nearly an hour and a half without having to see Steve and you were almost certain that you actually wouldn’t see him. But, moments before you were about to make your final rounds and say goodbye to people, mainly Dan so you could prove to him that you’d shown up, you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

It was almost too easy to know that it was Steve because it was only his touch that ever managed to send something equivalent to an electric shock through your body. And with the strapless black dress you were wearing, his hand making contact with your bare shoulder immediately made surprised goosebumps rise to your skin. 

“Hi,” He said, offering a small smile. Somehow the first thing you noticed about him was the bow tie he was wearing. He was also wearing a black suit with a white button-up shirt, but the bow tie caught your eye first. You were immediately reminded of a memory of him saying how much he hated bow ties, but you had told him how great he looked in one. In this moment, you hated how right you still were. 

“Hey,” You responded with a smile of your own, and you sincerely hoped he couldn’t see your nervousness through it. He opened his mouth to say something but you jumped in before he could. “How’s your first month here been so far?” 

“Good,” Steve answered with a nod. “A little weird just jumping in at the middle of the semester and trying to go along with what Wilson already set on the syllabus. A weekly quiz was on there, and I immediately told the students that we wouldn’t be doing that anymore.”

“They probably love you for that.”

“Yeah, I got a round of applause on my first day.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that, you were only fifty percent sure that he was joking, but either way, the thought amused you.

You wanted to ask when he got into history and into teaching, but maybe that question would open a can of worms that would lead to other topics of conversation you wanted to stay away from. 

“I can guarantee that at least half of them will want to be in your class next semester,” You said instead of asking what you really wanted. “You’re gonna be doing U.S. History, right?”

“Yeah, and I’ll still be taking over for Wilson, so I’ll have three courses next semester, which should be interesting,” Steve nodded, and then a look crossed his face as if he just remembered something. “But, that probably sounds like nothing to you because I heard that you’re currently doing four American Lit courses and one British Lit course. Oh, and you’re the only person in the English department teaching that many courses, which sounds insane but that’s also pretty cool.” 

You pretended as if now knowing that he had asked about you didn’t affect you at least a tiny bit. And you also pretended that hearing the admiration in his voice didn’t affect you at all either.  

“Yeah, I’ve only been teaching here for a little over two years, so I still get stuck with most of the basic courses. Which isn’t horrible, but it’s pretty boring and easy, so I always do a lot,” You told him with a small shrug. All of the work that had been on your plate for the past few years sounded like a lot— maybe even too much— but in your mind, it actually wasn’t as crazy as it seemed. Because you liked drowning yourself in your job, it made you feel useful, and you’d spent so much time before and right after you left Hawkins feeling the exact opposite that you’d do almost anything to make sure you never felt that way again. “But, next semester I’m doing an advanced Creative Writing course for the first time, in addition to only two American Lit courses, so I’m pretty excited about that.”

Steve smiled at you. “That’s nice.”

This small talk felt okay to you, it was bearable. It was also mundane and a little trivial, but you’d rather that than talk about the past. Apparently, Steve had other plans, though.

“I had no idea you moved here.”

You pulled your eyes away from his and focused on your half-empty flute of champagne that you’d gotten when you arrived at the event and was probably disgustingly warm by now. You contemplated for a few moments whether or not you should avoid Steve’s question or allow the conversation to go in the direction that it was inevitably meant to go in. Maybe it was stupid to think that you’d be able to pretend as if your past, which Steve was quite involved in, never existed. 

“Yeah… I went to college in Massachusetts and then I went to grad school here in Rhode Island but in a different part of the state, a little more north. And I always just stayed here, always finding a reason to stay around, some small internship or job, and then I ended up at this college because a friend who was already working here recommended me. I had never done any teaching before, but I actually like it.”

You didn’t tell him that the main reason why you always found a reason— more so desperately searched for reasons— to stay in Rhode Island was so that you never had to go back to Hawkins. But, maybe that was obvious, at least to him, because he was a huge factor as to why you knew that you needed to leave that town and never look back. 

You silently wondered if he had been gone from Hawkins for a long time too, and then you realized that with the turn the conversation had taken, you could actually ask that question.

“When did you leave Hawkins?” 

“Almost ten years ago now,” Steve said, and you had to admit, you were kind of surprised by that answer. To you, he always seemed like the type of person that would want to stay in the small town. “Decided it was time for a scenery change and my parents, especially my dad, were more than happy to send me anywhere.” He let out a dry and slightly sad chuckle, and you were all too quickly reminded of why you had always despised his parents. “He pulled some strings at this small college in Ohio, so I went there and actually liked it a lot, and I haven’t been back to Hawkins since.”

You two were sitting at an empty table now, somehow silently agreeing to migrate to that spot as you continued your conversation. You placed the glass in your hand on the white tablecloth and turned to look at Steve. 

“When did you get into history?”

“My first semester I had this professor for a World History class and he was really great; Richard James. It was probably the first class ever that I actually cared about what was going on because of how he was teaching everything and I became pretty interested in history. I took a couple more history classes with him and some other professors too, and still really liked it so I changed my major to it. And after I graduated I started TA-ing for some of the advanced classes he was teaching.”

There was a smile on your face that you wanted to get rid of but couldn’t because it was just so nice to hear how happy Steve was as he talked about the past almost ten years of his life. You hated to admit it, and you’d probably never do so out loud, but there was still a part of you that cared about him so much, and you were glad that he was happy. 

“And then I ended up here because last month Richard was supposed to do a talk here, but he got sick last second and asked me to fill in for him. And for some reason, the head of the History department really liked me and offered me a job.”

You had never been the biggest fan of history so it wasn’t that surprising that you had missed the first time that Steve had been here, but your mind couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if your paths had accidentally crossed then.

“I want you to know, though, that if I would’ve known that you also worked here, I wouldn’t have taken the job,” Steve told you, somehow pretty much reading your mind and answering your unasked question. “Because I know you left Hawkins because of me. Because you never wanted to see me again, which I completely understand.”

His words right then surprised you and you had no idea what to say in response to that; your thoughts started running a million miles a second and you could only look down at your hands in your lap. But then you didn’t have to say anything because Steve kept talking. 

“I’m still really sorry about everything that happened.” 

You were so close to telling him to stop talking about it. You were fully ready to make up some lie about how the past was in the past, and how you were over everything that happened twelve years ago. 

But, right then you actually didn’t want to lie and pretend that none of it mattered. You didn’t want to avoid the past like a plague, as you’d been doing for the past decade, and like you especially had been doing for the past month since Steve showed up in Rhode Island. 

However, it couldn’t happen here. In the school’s basketball court that had been transformed for the evening into a ballroom-type of elegant space. No one was paying attention to either of you, but the potential for someone to come up at any moment while you were finally having this conversation with Steve worried you. 

You finally let your eyes meet his again. “Can we talk about this outside?” 

Steve nodded as you stood up and he followed you out the nearest door. 

It was dark outside, the time now nearing on ten o’clock, but the many lamp posts brightened up the emptiness of the quad. You found a bench and sat down, the cool metal against your back calmed your nerves a bit. 

You were suddenly reminded of the last time you and Steve talked to each other before you left Hawkins, which was about a month into Senior year at a random party at Rachel McKenna’s house. It was barely even a conversation because you refused to listen to him and his slew of apologies back then. And then you also refused to talk to him for the entirety of the school year. 

You were still unsure if you had any regrets about that. 

“I really don’t even know where to start,” You said now with a small sigh. “I always forced myself to never think about us; about that summer and the aftermath of it too. For the longest time I pretended as if none of it really mattered. Because I knew that we no longer mattered to each other.”

“You always mattered to me,” Steve told you and it was almost too easy to hear the honesty in his tone. 

Still, you were quick to shake your head at him. “Stop, you can’t say stuff like that.”

“But, it’s the truth.”

You bypassed that softly spoken statement because even though you could hear that he was being honest, you didn’t want to acknowledge it right then. So, instead, you focused on something else that he previously said. 

“You’re right. You were the main reason that I left Hawkins, not the only reason but definitely one of the big ones. But, it’s also funny because you were one of the reasons why I almost wanted to stay.” Your next words sat right on the tip of your tongue, but they were almost too hard to get out. You cleared your throat and took a quick breath before speaking. “Because I loved you, I literally loved you. So much. But, I knew that I couldn’t, or that I shouldn’t, because nothing could actually happen between us. That summer we were living in a dumb fairytale that could never become a reality. And it was so fucking stupid of me to ever think that we could actually be something real.”

“I wanted us to be something real,” Steve said and you had to bite back the scoff you wanted to let out in response. 

“Yeah, weeks after you told me that what we were doing would have to be over because it was the end of summer and Nancy was coming back to town,” You said, trying hard not to let yourself get thrust back into that memory because the exact words he had said to you that day were still etched in your mind. “But, when we abruptly ended, it finally put everything into perspective for me. I felt like such a shitty person because of what we did and how it was a fucked up thing to do. And then immediately having to pretend as if none of it ever happened made it all feel so much worse. I hated you, but I hated myself so much more for everything that happened. That’s why I never wanted to see you or talk to you again, especially at that stupid party.”

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a soft look took over Steve’s face and you suddenly felt the wetness on your cheeks. You haphazardly wiped them away and averted your eyes from his, feeling immensely embarrassed because you hated that talking about all of that, things from years and years ago, still made you cry like you were that seventeen-year-old girl all over again. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry you felt that way,” Steve told you. “But, it was all so much more my fault than it was yours. I was the one that cheated on her.” 

“But, I knew. I knew about Nancy, and I knew that what we were doing was wrong.” But, I still did it because I wanted you so bad, and I loved that you wanted me too. You didn’t say that part because you hated the way it would make you sound. 

“Still, it will always be more my fault. I was such an asshole back then. All of that ‘King Steve’ stuff really got to my head and I did a lot of shitty things,” He said, and you could tell that he wasn’t proud of that part of his past and he really did feel bad about it. “But, I don’t regret you, or us, or that summer, though. And maybe that still makes me somewhat of an asshole, but that’s okay because it’s true. I don’t regret you. Not at all.”

Somehow hearing him say those words made you realize that you didn’t regret any of it either, which was a thought that actually made you want to cry harder. Because even though you should’ve regretted everything because of every single thing that happened after— the hurt and shame you felt so strongly for months after— you knew that you’d let yourself do it all over again. 

You’d still stupidly talk to him for the first time ever outside “Ralph’s Sandwich Shop” after he mocked you on the fact that you liked to put potato chips inside your sandwich and then praised you once he tried it and realized how good it was. And you’d definitely still let him kiss you for the first while swimming in his pool in the middle of the night after whispering to him, “Are you sure?” and his answer being a small nod and his lips pressing against yours that led to the chain of events that brought you both to where you were now.  

You wholeheartedly knew that you’d do it all over again. And because of that, it made you say your next statement.  

“I don’t want to be angry and upset with you anymore, or pretend you don't exist. I want us to be okay with each other.”

“I want that too. I want us to be friends,” Steve said, and although being friends was a lot different from simply being okay with one another, it actually didn’t sound like too crazy of an idea to you. 

You nodded at him. “Okay. Yeah, me too.”

You held out your hand for Steve to take, which he did, and the two of you shook hands to seal this “deal.”

Your gaze broke from his and you glanced down a bit. “Nice bow tie, by the way.”

“I remember someone told me that I looked good in them and I believed her.”

“She’s still right.”

“Good to know.”

You both smiled at each other and then laughed, and it may have taken twelve years, but it finally felt like the past was really in the past.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“but i knew you. dancin' in your levi's, drunk under a streetlight. i knew you. hand under my sweatshirt, baby, kiss it better.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 1997 

It was during the most random of moments that you were startled by how close you were able to become with Steve again, and how almost too easily it was able to happen. 

Joking around with one another actually felt normal to do, and even talking to each other about anything and everything somehow felt like second nature all over again.  

Steve was the one person from your “before” life that you had wholeheartedly believed you never wanted to see again, and now you were glad that he was in your life again. Those stark lines between “before” and “after” that you had drawn twelve years ago were now completely smudged.

Sometimes when the two of you were in your or his office late at night simultaneously working on whatever you needed to while eating takeout from random places, you were hit with the thought, “Holy shit, I can’t believe I’m here with Steve fucking Harrington right now,” and when you would tell him that random thought, he’d laugh a bit and agree that this sudden turn of events did feel at least a little unexpected. 

But, he liked how things changed these past few months, and you really did too.  

Now it was you asking to use the shower in his hotel room that once again made you feel surprised by how comfortable you were with him. 

“Can I use your shower? The one in my room doesn’t get hot for some reason,” You had said and then immediately laughed because of how insane the request was, but of course, Steve didn’t mind. 

“Yeah, sure,” He answered with a nod of his head, opening his door further to fully let you in the room.

“Thank you,” You said, smiling at him as you walked in, a towel from your hotel room next door in hand along with a change of clothes. “I’m gonna tell the front desk about it tomorrow. I would do it now, but after the four-hour drive today, I actually feel disgusting and am in dire need of a shower.”

The two of you along with a handful of other faculty from the English, History, and Theology departments were in upstate New York for a small weekend-long conference. Things like that were definitely one of your favorite parts of your job. Hearing talks from the authors of books that you loved, and then being able to pick their brains afterward. It felt like you were a student all over again, but in a better way because you were only listening to the stuff you cared about. 

It was also pretty endearing seeing how excited Steve was about everything too. He’d gone on and on about a lecture on World War II that was scheduled for tomorrow for at least an hour during your car ride together, and his happy rambling somehow made you want to go to it too.  

“I haven’t taken a shower yet, so I actually don’t know if mine works either,” Steve told you as you headed toward the bathroom. 

“Oh God, please don’t say that,” You responded and went to turn on the shower. You sighed in relief when you felt the water get warm on your hand. “Okay, we’re good!” 

After your shower, you joined Steve where he was sitting at the foot of his bed. It probably would’ve made sense to head back to your room, both of you had to be up fairly early in the morning, but you didn’t necessarily want to leave just yet; even though the two of you had just spent the past four hours holed up in a car together. 

He was clicking through channels on the small television placed atop the dresser, trying to decide on something to put on, before settling on a movie that looked quite familiar to you; Footloose. It was the movie that the two of you watched the first time you went over to his house that summer.

“Do you remember this movie?” He smiled at you and it was hard not to laugh at his question.

You met his gaze. “I definitely remember, but do you? Because you fell asleep during it.”

“I eventually got around to watching it,” He responded and you smiled at that.

“Good,” You told him as you pulled your eyes away from his and turned your attention back toward the television, the movie was close to the end. 

When the credits started rolling ten minutes later, you were about to say goodnight to Steve and finally head back next door to your room, but he started speaking before you said anything. 

“Do you ever wonder how different things would be now if we had ended up together back then?” He asked, and the vulnerability and genuine curiosity laced within the question made your heart constrict. “If I hadn’t been an idiot and gone back to Nancy at the end of the summer. If I realized earlier that I really wanted to be with you.” 

His words actually managed to surprise you because, over the last few months of you and Steve becoming friends again, that part of your deeply intertwined past was something that neither of you talked about. What the two of you used to be to each other, so deeply and utterly in love, hadn’t once come up in your conversations. Maybe it was the elephant in the room that had yet to be addressed. However, a part of you also felt that it was unnecessary to talk about it because, just like everything else, that was also in the past. 

“Things would’ve definitely been different,” You ultimately said, words feeling unsure because you now felt so confused. Your next statements came out rushed as you leaned back on the bed, your back hitting the comforter and your hands covering your face because you were purposefully avoiding eye contact with him. “Sorry, I don’t really know what to say right now. I didn’t expect you to say that, and now my mind is kinda spiraling a bit.” 

The question became a broken record in your mind. 

Do you ever wonder how different things would be now if we had ended up together back then?

You actually had never wondered about that because, for the longest time, you had forced yourself not to think about Steve, or that summer, or even Hawkins in general. But now your brain was spiraling in a thousand different directions with potential answers to the simply stated but insanely loaded question. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was a stupid question. I don’t even know why I asked it, honestly,” Steve responded, words coming out rushed just as yours had. Something about his current sudden nervousness reminded you of the first encounter you two had in the hallway when you learned that he lived in Rhode Island. “Please forget I said anything.” 

You didn’t want to forget, though. 

“It would’ve been good, I think,” You said softly. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you still didn’t want to meet his gaze. “I think we would’ve been really good together. I wouldn’t have spent almost every day working at the library, and instead, I would’ve gone to your basketball games and swim meets, and I’d actually enjoy it all because I was watching you. And we would’ve gotten drunk at parties on the weekends, and then the next morning you’d still drive me to my shift at the library and stay the entire time because there was nothing else that you wanted to spend your Sunday morning and afternoon doing. Maybe after graduating, we would’ve chosen colleges somewhere close to Hawkins, or even somewhere so far away from the small town. Probably someplace far away. But that part of it doesn’t really matter because we would’ve been together, and that’s all that would have mattered.” 

There was really no doubt in your mind that that would’ve happened, or a different but similar version occurring that also included you and Steve simply being happy and in love with one another.

You felt the bed shift a bit after a few moments of your previous words lingering in the air of the hotel room and settling heavily over Steve, and you finally pulled your hands away from your face to look at him. He was now also leaning back against the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

“God, I was such a dumbass,” He muttered, and you could hear the sadness in his voice.

You turned on your side to face him. “We both were. I wish I let myself forgive you at that party.” 

“I didn’t deserve your forgiveness then,” He responded as he turned on his side as well and met your eyes. “Sometimes I feel like I barely deserve it now.” 

There was so much you could’ve said in response to that but words didn’t feel right in that moment. So, instead of saying something along the lines of, “Please stop beating yourself up about it. You’re a good person,” you shimmied yourself closer to him, closing the small gap of space between you two, and pulled him in for a hug. 

The position was awkward, one of your arms was sandwiched underneath him and you knew that it would almost immediately fall asleep and cause some discomfort. However, any and all awkwardness faded away when you felt Steve reciprocate and his arms circled around you. 

“It’s okay, okay? I promise everything is okay between us,” You whispered, almost certain that your words got lost in his neck, but when you felt him squeeze you tighter you knew that he was able to hear you clearly. And not only that, but he believed you. 

And then it felt like almost second nature for you to make a joke to make things feel light again. “Actually, I’m still offended that you fell asleep during Footloose the first time we ever hung out. I don’t forgive you for that.” 

You felt his body shake with laughter which made you smile, and after a few moments, you pulled back from the hug to find him smiling softly at you. 

“I’ll redeem myself when the sequel comes out,” He said. 

“It’s been twelve years, I think the sequel ship has sailed.”

He laughed again. “Okay, yeah, that’s true.”

You should’ve taken the newfound silence as your opportunity to say goodnight to him and head next door to your room. However, you couldn’t find the will to fully pull yourself away from him. His arms were still around you, like yours were, and your faces were dangerously close. But, the current proximity didn’t feel dangerous or worrisome to you. Instead, it simply felt right; which was an abrupt feeling that should’ve confused you, but somehow it didn’t. 

“I really missed you,” He told you, breaking the silence with a statement that only cemented that “rightness” you were feeling at that moment. 

“I missed you too.” Your four words somehow felt so effortlessly honest. Even though you had pretended that he and that summer never mattered by forcing your thoughts away from it all, Steve always still held a place in your heart. Deep down inside of you, something that resembled a yearning for him almost always lingered. “I constantly tried to tell myself that that wasn’t true, but I really did miss you… And I’m so glad we’re here right now.” 

“Me too.” He looked at you so softly that you felt yourself slowly melting under his gaze.

In your mind, which now suddenly felt so clear and the farthest thing from confused, the next thing you wanted to do seemed like the best thing to do. In fact, it was something that you felt like you needed to do. 

Your hand that was resting at the nape of Steve’s neck moved to his cheek as you dipped your head just a tiny bit closer to him. 

Steve closed the small gap some more and his lips ghosted over yours for what felt like a fraction of a second before he pulled back a little and looked at you. “Are you sure?”

“Now that sounds awfully familiar,” You joked, referring to that moment in his pool all those years ago, and although he cracked a smile at your statement, you knew his question was serious. 

You weren’t kids anymore. The two of you couldn’t just kiss and let it mean nothing in the end. 

But, you truly didn’t want it to mean nothing. 

You couldn’t have a good ending back then, but did that mean that you still couldn’t have one now? 

“I’m so sure about this,” You told him and before he could potentially respond with anything, you let your lips find his, and how quickly Steve kissed you back nonverbally told you how he felt about it all too.

You were completely done for, you knew that for certain. There was nothing that could compare to this and there would never be anything that could compare to this— Steve’s lips on yours for the first time in years, but it feeling like the last time it happened was only yesterday. It was all so innate and easy, probably the easiest thing you’d ever done. 

The way his hand found your waist to pull you even closer to him, which made you inwardly smile, and the way you let your fingers settle in his hair and lightly tug on the brown locks, which elicited a soft sigh in contentment from him— you still knew every part of each other so well. 

Two people that had been apart for so long finally coming back together. It was a statement that technically summed up you and Steve, but in your eyes, that felt too simple and didn’t accurately summarize the hurt, pain, and turmoil that had accompanied the past twelve years. And it especially didn’t correctly encompass the current part of it all, the “coming back together” part. 

Because that part felt indescribable. 

A part of it felt similar to watching a movie that ended just the way you wanted it to, or having someone right there to help you get back up and patch up your wounds after you’d fallen off your bike. A feeling that said that even though everything had once felt so uncertain and the complete opposite of perfect, it wasn’t that way anymore. 

Things quickly felt so good and right, and both of you were already making internal promises— promises that you’d later whisper to one another while wrapped up in the sheets of Steve’s bed— to never let each other go so easily again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“​​and i knew you'd come back to me. you’d come back.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

(read “august” here!)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington one shot #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff

[p1err0st4r]

☆ | author's note : hello ! Im so sorry for not posting for so long. :33 I have been feeling bad lately , but now that i spent most of my pocket money on energy drinks ... or vapes ( i have been drinking one per day for 20 days straight ) so it gave me an idea.

★ | warnings : gn!reader ; fluff mostly ; cursing ( from reader mostly ) ; modern!human!alastor ; might be un canon ; can be seen both as planotic and romantic ( no specifics ) ; reader is in university ; alastor and reader are both in their early 20s ; in this AU alastor is not a murderer.

Well it has been a while since you properly slept.

Your grades , for the most part weren't great so you spent hours to days studying without a stop until you were just dizzy from not eating for days on end. And not only that but your grades were still hot shit , which worried you since you didn't want to lose your scholarship. It wad already rare , so you were "blessed".

As you opened the apartment door the sounds of jazz met your ears , Alastor was already home. You didn't want to make your boyfriend upset , mostly about your habits , but you didn't know what to do to keep yourself a bit fresher than you wanted to be. You drifted into your thoughts as you took of your coat and hung it , then stepped into the apartment... well , stumbled. It would be much more fitting.

"Ah , dear , didn't notice you there ! How was your day?"

Alastor said with a smile as he helped you with your bag.

"Shitty , as usual. I think i'll fail geomtery this semester."

You exclaimed. Alastor chuckled as he led you to the kitchen.

"Well i think if you actually were healthy your grades would be much better so i-"

"Al. Babe , you don't have to take care of me , im not a child. It's only a month until the exams so i need to study non stop."

You gave him a gentle kiss on the head. He always cooked for you , every evening so by now your humble little apartment was nearly a food storage. You felt guilty and ungreatful , he worked hard and you just ended up brushing it off.

You went to the fridge and took out another energy drink... for gods sake it was the 3rd one today. Alastor took your wrist before you could open it.

"Darling i insist... and i'd prefer that you stopped drinking those ,it's bad for the heart ! And i don't want you getting more sick. Besides , it's saturday and i think you should give sunday out to take care of yourself."

You stared at him with your tired eyes. It was ... true. Everything he said was true. You barely payed attention to him even , which made you feel worse. You sighed before you brushed off his hand.

"Last one , Al. I swear i'll eat later."

You opened the can and took a gulp.

You realized it barely even helped you at this point , even though you had like a whole stash in your fridge. It was now a mere apitizer for your pathetic little life.

"Ugh , fine."

Alastor calmed down a bit and as you sat down at the table he placed a plate in front of you then sat across you , just watching you.

"You're not gonna eat ?"

"Oh , i already did."

"You know you don't look any better than me."

Alastors expression became annoyed. You looked like a skeleton and could barely lift up your bag, which wasn't that heavy because it was all just notes and papers.

"Fine , fine , im sorry."

You said before a shaky chuckle escaped your lips.

"You better be."

"Oh nooo , im so scared of mister thin tall and bad."

He forced out a laugh.

"Be greatful that mister thin tall and bad keeps you fed."

You couldn't complain about that. Your boyfriend was an absolute charmer. You decided to continue eating in silence.

"Maybe i'll have the honor to sleep with you tonight instead of you sleeping on your desk ?"

You just nodded. The idea was great ... but you'd lose 8 hours of studying.

"What do i get in return?"

"Oho , what do you get ? I think you got enough. Consider it... payment."

You laughed at your boyfriend.

Honestly you sometimes thought how'd you even get him into your arms. He was the one to initiate every move at first. Gifting you various gifts and even helping you with your home task, which you failed... plenty of times. He was such a charmer , and you were a clean paper. It seemed irrational

You snapped out of your thoughts... literally , ad Alastor snapped his fingers in front of your face.

"Eat up. We have to go to bed soon."

"I love you."

Alastor stared at you for a good moment before he slowly chuckled with a sweet voice.

"I love you too... but you still hsve to eat."

His hand lifted up to your face and wiped the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

What a sweet night.

♱   | ok but i would LOVE to live like that. I cry for 2 hours straight when i come back from university or work. ( average adulthood life )

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #has been #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #reader fic #alastor x reader #human!alastor x reader #alastor x gn!reader #gn!reader

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Kiss Me First

masterlist

summary: you keep a student after class to work on their late english homework, but coach teague wants his star quarterback at practice

paring: jason teague x female teacher!reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.9k

warnings: reader’s last name is smith (simply because it looks better than ‘miss.y/l/n’), absolutely no spoilers for smallville so if you haven’t watched it that’s okay

author’s note: just some jason teague fluff because i haven’t seen any on here and that makes me sad

Being the 12th grade English teacher and dating the football coach had quite a few perks - a quiet office to make out in, carpooling to and from the school, and most of all getting to spend so much quality time together. But, you and Jason butted heads when it came to the importance of actual school. Jason insisted that his football players didn’t need great grades, they should focus on the sport instead. Obviously, you disagreed. So, that ended you here; a student of yours, Clark Kent, had four late assignments. Instead of giving him four poor grades, you offered he could make it up by working on the assignments after class. He agreed and was now thirty minutes late to football practice.

“Y/n! You’re the teacher keeping Clark after class?” Jason asked when he walked into the classroom. “He’s the quarterback for fuck’s sake!”

“First off, we’re on school property and there’s a student in the room; watch your language. Second, hello honey, how’s your day going?” You smiled, not looking away from the papers you were grading.

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes, “My day’s going fine,” he grumbled. “Especially lunch, whew! God, the most beautiful woman surprised me in my office and we-”

“Okay!” You turned on your chair and looked at him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I knew that would get your attention,” he replied and walked up to your desk. “Seriously, though, can Clark please come to practice?”

“Jason! C’mon the kid’s gonna fail this class!”

“I’m gonna fail?” Clark exclaimed from the desk he sat at near the back of the room.

“You will if you keep this up!” you replied. “Football is not as important as grades, Mr.Kent.”

“Don’t listen to Miss Smith here.” Jason shook his head. “Football is way more important than any English paper.”

You groaned loudly and put your face in your hands. “You’re an idiot Coach Teague. And I’m not forcing Clark to be here. I’m grading three week’s worth of homework over the weekend, if he doesn’t get these assignments in by the time I leave here, it’s an automatic zero. Shouldn’t take him more than two hours overall.”

“Please?” Jason pouted. He bent down and kissed you. “We’ve got a big game next week, the team needs to practice as a team!”

“Jason, I love you, but I can’t in good conscience let this kid fail my class this semester!”

“I love you more,” he mumbled and kissed you again.

He turned to walk back out but you gripped his hand and stopped him.

“Clark, I’ll give you another extension for these assignments,” you told him, Jason smiled widely.

“Thank you, Miss Smith,” Clark replied before throwing his things in his backpack.

“They’ll be due Monday, okay?” you asked, he nodded and thanked you again before leaving the room.

“Thanks, hun,” Jason said. He once again turned to leave but again you stopped him.

“Oh, don’t think for a second you’re getting off that easy, mister!”

“Sweetheart, I love you but I really gotta go!”

“Kiss me first?” you asked, flashing puppy dog eyes that made it impossible for him to say no. He pulled you to your feet and kissed you; your hands roaming up his chest and resting on the back of his neck as your fingers played with his hair.

“God, I love you so fucking much!” he whispered against your lips. “So goddamn much!” His hands roamed down your back and rested on your ass, squeezing it gently. “You’ve got such a perfect ass, honey, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Yeah this one guy keeps telling me!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s got these beautiful green eyes that turn into a shade of brown when the lighting is dim, an adorable nose, and an array of freckles painting his overall perfect face.”

“Painting? You really are a writer,” he mumbled and kept kissing you so you couldn’t protest his comment.

“God he’s got the most perfect lips, too!” you smiled. “They’re perpetually this gorgeous shade of musty pink-”

“Are you gonna keep talking or can we make-out properly?”

“Don’t even get me started on that voice of his, good fucking lord!” You kissed down his neck then back up to his cheek. “And when he smiles he gets these little eye-wrinkles right here.” You kissed his eye wrinkles as his smile deepened.

“Okay, now you’re making me blush sweetheart.”

“Awe, are you worried all your big, tough athletes out there are gonna see you all smiling and blushing?” You teased him.

“Nah, they all know you make me crazy,” he said quietly and kissed you again. “I really better go before they come looking for me though.”

“Mkay, I love you,” you replied as he broke away.

“I love you too, and I’ll be back here to take you home in,” he checked his watch as he walked toward the door, “one hour and twenty-four minutes.” He smirked and pointed at you as he entered the hallway and said, “I love you!” With that he jogged away.

The realization slowly set in that you really let Clark walk out when he was nearly one month behind on homework.

“God fucking damn it,” you groaned and you slumped back down into your chair; shaking your head with a slight smile.

#jason teague x reader #jason teague #smallville #smallville x reader #smallville fic #jackles character #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[sluttywonwoo]

imagine changkyun rewarding you after your finals ended - being all soft and caring ♡ imagine sitting on his lap as he gives you soft kisses while his hands gently caress the sides of your body before firmly grabbing onto your waist. imagine as you slowly hump his jean-covered buldge while he smirks down at you, cooing softly and giving you crude praises and degradation in his low tone -

"that's my dirty girl, humping me like a bitch in heat hm?"

"such a good baby - studied so hard for your final papers yeah? gonna get such good grades?"

"let me reward my hardworking slut~"

just imagine 😇

first of all this made me cry and scream this is exactly what i needed ty for sending

“baby, baby, let me get my jeans off first—”

“nooo,” you whine, clinging to your boyfriend even tighter as you grind into him.

changkyun just sighs and leans back in the chair he’s sitting in, rearranging the evening in his mind.

he had a whole thing planned for tonight to celebrate the fact that you’d finished all of your finals for the semester— he had already started to cook dinner and everything, but it seemed like his plans would have to wait. he didn’t mind in the slightest, aside from the fact that there was an unsupervised pot of water boiling on the stove. tonight was to celebrate you, after all. if all you wanted him to do was fuck the stress of finals week out of you, then that’s what he’d do.

he should have seen it coming, honestly. you’ve been buried in your studies for the past week and a half. there hasn’t been time for any sort of intimacy, sexual or otherwise. your graduate program usually keeps you pretty swamped but this semester had been particularly brutal, which could only mean that finals week would be much the same. you’ve barely spoken a word to your boyfriend since saturday, brushing off any attempts of affection with no explanation other than “i’m busy.”

changkyun had been understanding, of course… even when you got a bit snippy with him. he was more than happy to take care of himself in the shower, with a hand around his cock and a mind full of thoughts of you. it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the real thing, but it was enough.

you, on the other hand, haven’t been able to get any relief, even though you’d clearly needed it. of course you’d be desperate after going so long without touch— his or your own. it was cute, your frustration… but changkyun would never tell you that.

“you want my fingers first?” he offers as he pulls your pajama shorts to the side so that the only barrier between you and his fingers is your underwear.

“no, just want you.”

“baby, how am i supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me get my dick out of my pants?” he asks, voice edged with exasperation.

“figure it out.”

changkyun groans. the jeans are growing more and more uncomfortable by the second with how hard he’s getting in them. “i’m going to need you to work with me here. c’mon, be a good girl for me and let me undress us.”

the pet name has a different effect than intended. instead of getting you to listen and climb off of his lap, it just makes you grind down on him harder.

you whine and bury your head in his shoulder, taking the seam of his t-shirt in your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re making. changkyun rubs your back soothingly, giving in. he’s much stronger than you. he could overpower you and get you to stop if he really wanted to. he just doesn’t have the heart to.

“close, baby?”

“y- fuck, yeah,” you answer right away.

“gonna cum all over my lap like a slut? my slut? then are you gonna be good and let me fuck you like you wanted?”

“mhm…”

“yeah? good. you’re gonna be full of me all night long, my love. gotta make sure my girl feels good after working so hard.”

#answered #anon #monsta x smut #mx smut #changkyun smut #im changkyun smut #i.m smut

[ilovefakemilitarymen]

Deal with the Devil

~Professor!John Price x Student!Reader (Part Three)

____________________________

Read Part One Here: x - Part Two: x

Word Count: ~3.4K

CW: Minors Do Not Interact, NSFW, Smut, Inappropriate Teacher/Student Relationships, Sexual Tension, Praise Kink, Name Calling (good girl, sweetheart), not really much aftercare, AFAB Reader, She/Her Pronouns, Unsafe Sex

A/N: I thoroughly apologize for making people wait on this, have some good smut to make up for it! As always, if you think I should list something in the warnings please let me know!

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm goes off, and you take your time to just stare at the ceiling. The day before had felt like a dream and, in all honesty, you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t. You can’t get the feeling of his rough hands on you out of your head.

It’s a problem of massive fucking proportions.

A problem so big that, by the end of this, you’re not sure the grade will even matter. You’re not sure if he’ll even have his job by the time the semester ends if this carries on, but, despite everything telling you no, your finger still hovers over his name on your phone.

It’s almost two hours before your first class with him. One hour before you probably should give him a call. You really can’t find it in yourself to care about whether or not he gets an extra hour of sleep.

Fuck it, you press your finger into the button, and the line is ringing. It does so for a couple of moments, and he doesn’t answer right away, but he does answer.

“Good morning, love,” The words roll off of his tongue, the sleep that coated his voice yesterday morning isn’t there but he’s breathing heavily. His words draw you in, letting you know, that yes, yesterday was in fact, real. It wasn’t a dream. “Did you sleep well?” The same question from yesterday, but his voice is dripping honey even through the receiver.

You had fully expected him not to pick up this early, but here he was, heavy breathing on the other side of the phone and calling you ‘love’. You run with it, his breath is sending heat straight to your core.

“I slept pretty well,” You say, and then a sick idea goes through your head and you’re nothing if not impulsive, so you let the extra words out, “Pretty wore out but I slept well.”

The chuckle he sends back to you makes a tingle run up your spine.

“I can imagine…” His voice trails off, and you can hear something in the background. You can’t place exactly what it is, but his breath comes out heavy. “What can I do for you this morning?”

Something sounds like metal clashing, coming through the receiver.

‘I just wanted to hear your voice.’

You don’t let that part slip, instead, you tell him about his schedule, “I just wanted to tell you that you have your morning class at about 10, and then what looks like a lot of free time before your evening class, around 3.”

“Thank you for the reminder, darling, but…” His voice drips from his lips, and he’s not holding back now, he repeats himself, “What can I do for you this morning?”

Your breath nearly catches in your throat, “O-Oh,” You stammer, the meaning of his words loud and clear. He hums, and he’s a smart man, he knows why you called him. Under the guise of telling him his schedule, he knows what you want. He knows what you need.

“Just keep talking…” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “What are you doing?”

You can hear the sound of a door opening, and then, after a couple of moments, can hear a car door shut.

He huffs a small laugh before he speaks and the sound of metal isn’t there anymore, but you get your answer to what it was, “Just at the gym, gorgeous…waiting for you to tell me what plans you have for all that free time that we have after class.”

“I have a couple of ideas…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, trying to steel your nerves.

“Is that so?” He sounds entertained, “What might those be?”

He’s a fucking menace. He wants you to say it. He wants you to tell him exactly what you want, and it sends electricity through your veins.

“Well…” You breathe out, “I was thinking you could bend me over that desk in your office.” The words come out, and you’re trying your best to feign innocence even though the words coming out of your mouth are anything but.

“I do enjoy the sound of that,” His voice comes out too normal across the phone, and it just spurs you on. He’s too in control, and you’re not sure if anything you say could ever get him to break his stoic attitude.

You decide to test him anyway.

“Want you to wrap your hands around my throat and fuck me till I can’t walk back to my dorm...sir…” You add on the last bit breathily, knowing it’ll just get him more excited.

He sends a light groan across the receiver, and you know you’ve got him. It sends your heartbeat to rest between your legs.

“I didn’t take you for such a slut, (y/n).” He seems proud of himself when he speaks, knowing he’s the entire reason for your words.

“Just for you, sir.”

He hums happily across the phone, and you finally let your hand come to rest against the arousal between your legs, but he cuts off the thoughts going through your head, edging you without even realizing it.

“I’ll see you in class,” He starts, and you know your time with him is over, “and then we’ll have some fun, darling.” You can hear his car start before the phone line cuts out and you can’t help but groan and toss your phone to the side.

He’s a menace.

But he’s a deliciously hot menace...

And two can play that game.

You move to get up and get ready, pulling a skirt out of a drawer and sliding it on before a devilish thought crosses your mind.

You slide your underwear off, tossing it to the floor before continuing to get ready.

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

You cross your legs, hiding from him, but his eyes still rake over your form, taking in the expanse of skin on your legs. He turns from you quickly, hiding whatever response you had ignited in him. He’s at the front of the class, and in the middle of his lecture.

He writes on his whiteboard, and you take a moment to watch the muscles of his back, eyes following the curves directly down to his ass, and you take a moment, contemplating, before you finally decide to open your legs, leaning back in your desk chair.

It’s in nobody’s view but his, and you wait for him to finish writing and turn back to the class.

His eyes drop when he finally turns back around, moving exactly where you had wanted them to, and he clears his throat, eyes pulling from your exposure. He has a small smirk on his face when he starts talking again, and he’s nothing if not stoic.

You wanted to break him.

You wanted to watch the lust fill his eyes.

You keep your legs open for a moment, and his eyes dart back to you every so often, taking in every bit of your form. You close your legs while his eyes are on you, pulling your knees together and he turns back to the whiteboard, pointing, and you know there’s no reason for him to do so. He’s just trying to pry his eyes off of you before he snaps.

He finishes the point he’s making, that you have definitely not been paying attention to once again, but you can’t find it in yourself to care this time around.

“Alright,” He finally finishes up the class, “Do the reading.”

It’s all he can get out, waving a hand to the students, dismissing them. You look down at your phone to check the time.

Thirty minutes early.

You stay in your seat, keeping your legs closed and he waits patiently for the last of the students to file out of the room before he makes his way over to you. You try to ignore him, packing your things, but every cell in your body feels like it’s on fire.

“I bet you’re fucking proud of yourself, aren’t you?” His voice comes out low, nearly a growl when he finally speaks up.

Time to sell it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Your eyes find his as you speak, making them as big as possible as you look up at him.

He doesn’t say anything, just presses a foot into yours, kicking slightly so you’ll open your legs up for him again. He drinks you in now, and you let him for a moment before you close them again, moving to get up and bend over to put your things in your bag, giving him a pretty view.

You barely have a chance to grab your bag before he presses his hands into your hips, tugging you in the direction of his office. You let a sly smile grace over your features, following after him towards the back of the classroom.

The door clicks shut and you hear the lock, and you stride over, resting against the front of his desk, and he looks like a man starved.

“We might need to have a talk…” He speaks, walking with an air of confidence that would put you on your ass if you weren’t holding onto the edge of the desk, “About teasing me in class like that.”

He’s in front of you once he finishes his sentence, legs moving to spread yours further apart before he reaches for the edge of your skirt.

“Are you gonna punish me, sir?” You match his energy, words moving like silk when they finally fall out of your mouth. You give him a slight smirk, watching the way his eyebrows raise.

“I’m gonna do more than that,” There are mere inches between the two of you now, and all you want is his lips on yours.

He won’t give it to you just yet, though. His hands move to bring your skirt up, hands gripping your hips and moving to face you towards the desk as he throws the material to rest against your lower back, leaving your ass exposed to him. You brace your hands against the wood, and he pulls your hips up against his, and you feel his bulge for a moment before he pulls you away.

“I didn’t realize you could be such a fucking brat,” His words are dark and you feel his hand come down to smack hard against your ass, a sharp sound pouring into the room around you and you moan, pushing further into his hands. “We’ll fix that.” He speaks, his voice much closer to your ear now, and his breath fans against your neck before he pulls back further from you. His hand hits heavily against your other cheek now, and he rubs the area as it turns red.

His fingers move to barely press against your heat, making you shudder as he lands another smack to your ass with the other hand.

“So wet for me already,” His hand moves over your hip, trailing up until it rests nicely against your throat, “What’s got you so excited?”

His words are torture and everything in you just wants him to go ahead and split you open. Fuck the foreplay, you need him now.

“Y-You do…” Your voice breaks as it comes out, barely above a whisper as his hand gives your throat a gentle squeeze before moving to rest against your ass. He smacks against your ass again, rubbing the abused skin lightly.

“What was that?”

“You do, sir.” Your words come out louder as you try to press back into him, but his hands move to grip your hips in an attempt to keep you from moving.

“Good girl,” His words make a whine push itself out of your throat. It’s ridiculous how quickly he’s reduced you down to nothing.

“Your good girl.” Your words are thick with desire, and he chuckles, letting you push your hips back against him, no doubt making a mess out of the front of his pants.

“Yeah,” His hand lands another smack on your ass and you moan as it starts to tingle, “You’re my good girl.”

Your mind is fully clouded now, lust and pain, the sound of his voice and the feel of his hands are the only thing you can think about. You’re ridiculous. Nothing but a few smacks and your entire confident demeanor reduced to whining just for him.

He loves it.

His hands grip heavy on your hips as he pulls you back into him, raising you up off the desk before moving you to sit down on the top of the desk he moves between your legs, hands running across the expanse of your thighs before he’s picking the edge of your skirt back up.

“Hold it,” he speaks and you move your hands to grip onto the fabric as he drops his hands back onto your thighs. The roughness practically melts the soft skin as he moves to rub his thumbs against your inner thighs, close enough that you clench around nothing.

You’re absolutely dripping for him, and you finally break. “Please…” Your words are barely there, but you can’t help but try.

“Please?” He questions you, thumb barely grazing your clit before both of his hands rest against your exposed thighs, and it pulls a sound out of you that you didn’t realize you could make.

“Please, sir.” You look down at his hands, watching as he rubs the skin of your thighs.

“Tell me what you want…” He watches you, taking in the way your face shifts from pleasure to pain as he pulls his hands away from you. He gives in, moving to your clit as quickly as he had pulled away. He rubs circles into you, breaking you down piece by piece, and you let out a broken moan. You move your hands to the front of his pants, barely getting the button undone before he moves them. “Use your words, gorgeous.”

He holds your hands in his, the other continuing to rub against your clit.

“Fuck me...please,” You’re delirious, drunk on him and all he’s done is tease you, and you buck your hips into his hand.

“Such a good girl for me,” He speaks as he finishes undoing his zipper, pulling himself out of his pants and moving his hands to grip your hips before he pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, forcing you to lay back onto it. You’re spread out for him, legs hanging onto his hips as he presses the head against your clit, rubbing and watching the way your face contorts.

He presses the tip into you, and the stretch of being unprepared for him is drowned out by the sheer pleasure of finally having him, but it’s cut short as he pulls back away from you. You let out a sound that’s somewhere between a sob and a whine as he pulls the one thing that you’ve been craving away from you.

Your hands are moving of their own accord, slipping into his belt loops and pulling his hips flush against yours. It doesn’t put him where you want him, and in reality, makes your cravings for him even worse as the fabric of his pants presses into you.

He lets out a groan around his words, “That’s not how you get what you want, gorgeous.” He breathes out, and your own want is mirrored in his eyes. He’s pushing you, prodding at you until he has you crumbling under him, tearing you apart at your seams.

“Please,” Your words come out heavily, a deep whine pulling out of your chest as you throw your head back against his desk.

As soon as your attention is off of him, he pulls his hips away from yours, lining himself up and sinking into you. The stretch has a growl dragging out of your throat and his following words only push you further into the feral feeling in the pit of your stomach, “Such a greedy cunt...Isn’t that right, baby?”

It nearly has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, and the sound you let out is damn near pornographic, and you can only bring yourself to nod at him eagerly as he pulls his hips back, plunging back into you hard enough to push you further up the desk. His hands move, pulling your legs up and his hands grip onto your thighs and he pulls you back, dragging you back down the desk onto his cock. Your hands grip onto the edge of the desk, keeping yourself still as he thrusts back into you, slowing his pace. His eyes are on you, drinking you in as one of his hands glides down your leg enough to grip onto it and throw it over his shoulder.

His thrusts move into an easy pace, enough to give you both pleasure, but not enough to push you over the edge. Even with his cock pressed into you, completely to the hilt, his main goal is to watch you break.

His hands are on your thighs, his left resting on the inside of your thigh as the other grips the leg that’s thrown over his shoulder. He runs his left hand along the expanse of your body, pressing under your shirt as he pulls it up, exposing you further to him before his thumb presses into your open mouth. The faint taste of your own arousal fills your mouth as you close your lips around it. His pace picks up then, as he’s finally got you where he wants you: a mess under him, begging, pleading with your eyes.

His hips snap into you at a rigid pace, and his thumb in your mouth muffles any sounds that come out of you before it finally pulls out, moving down your body until it rests on your clit, rubbing languid circles that don’t match the tempo of his thrusts but it pushes you further either way. All it takes is a groan from him to push you over the edge, your heat clenching around him as incoherent words and moans fall out of your mouth. He fucks you through it, his hand moving from your clit to grab your chin, forcing your eyes on him.

“That’s it, love… takin’ me so good…” He says in between thrusts, squeezing your cheeks as he takes in the mess he’s made out of you. Your chest heaves, your eyes half-lidded as syllables make their way out of your mouth in a prayer that’s made only for his ears. In your hazy state, you’re not sure when his own release comes, and you can only feel his hips stutter before he’s pressing himself fully into you, filling you up before his lips come down to press against yours. He lets out a growl, nibbling on your bottom lip as everything falls quiet around you. The sound of your moans, the dull thud of his still-clothed hips hitting hard against yours, is replaced by the sound of your shared labored breathing. His kiss turns more tender and you try your best to reciprocate it in your now completely tired state.

“You did so good, baby…” His words fill the silence, “So good for me.” The both of you share breaths along with light kisses as you come down, and his demeanor shifts so quickly that it would give you whiplash if you had more of a mind to think about it. You still feel like mush as he pulls out of you, fixing his clothes before he’s pulling your shirt back down with tender hands.

His arms wrap around you, lifting you off the desk before he’s making his way over to the small futon on the other side of the room and he sits down with you, letting you rest against his chest as you both collect yourselves in the dim light of his office.

Minutes pass, maybe even an hour, but your only focus is on the rise and fall of his chest.

“You okay?” He finally speaks, and it comes out tender, the gravel of his voice caressing you in a way that makes a shiver run up your spine. You nod, not trusting your voice just yet and he presses a kiss against the top of your head as his hand moves to scratch at your scalp to provide some extra comfort.

“Gonna have to come back for more than extra credit…” You mumble out after a couple more minutes, your voice absolutely destroyed, and you nuzzle further into his chest until your breath is bouncing off of his neck. Your words have tugged a light laugh out of him.

“Gonna have to cancel my next class…” He says, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

Fuck his next class.

Fuck the extra credit...

#call of duty fanfic #cod x reader #john price x reader #call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #captain john price #cod x reader smut #fanfic #john price

[sft-chrry]

kagaya

pairing: k. ubuyashiki x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, repeating of words

song: jenny by studio killers (i just replaced jenny with kagaya because yes?😭)

a/n: this has been sitting on my google docs for 5 months now and i just want to post it because it had potential and now its poof.

“i don’t get why you can’t ask him,” ume complained as she had heard (name) overthink way too much. “he’s not going to reject you, well we’re not sure about that but still! if he is going to reject you, he'll do it in a gentle way.”

“you don’t understand, ume, kagaya and i have been friends since first year. if he does like me his friends, especially the one with 3 girlfriends would’ve teased him about it! plus he doesn’t even hangout with me anymore,” her eyes softened when she said that earning an eye roll from ume.

it was true though, he was busy being a student council whilst she was busy having fun with her friends.

an idea sparked on ume’s head.

“why not confess to him with a song? so that if he does reject you, you have a reason. just tell him that you were singing through chat?”

“that's so stupid!”

“and it sounds like you would do it.” ume whispered but it was loud enough for (name) to hear it. she walked out of their shared dorm to attend her class.

(name) pouted for 2 minutes and decided she’ll do it. she huffed and grabbed on her phone to open their conversation. their last chat was 5 days ago when (name) was asking where muzan was.

-

(name)

kagaya, darling, you're my best friend

kagaya

hello, (name)

i think i’m very aware of that.

(name)

but there's a few things that you don't know of

kagaya

?

like?

(name)

why I borrow your lipstick so often

kagaya

whaat?

i don't think i had lipstick.

these are all yours?

(name)

i’m using your shirt as a pillow case

kagaya

so you had my missing shirts?

(name)

i wanna ruin our friendship

we should be lovers instead

seen

-

she started to sweat and tossed her phone on her bed just before she plopped she remembered she had class with him.

she cursed under her breath and changed her clothes. ignoring the text messages that were notifying her.

gasping for air, she sat on her chair and placed her books on the table. she was late but so was the professor.

curiously, she glanced at where kagaya would often sit with his friends and saw him looking at her with his soft eyes. her face flushed and she went to look at her textbook to her luck the professor arrived.

she was a girl in love so she couldn’t help stealing a few glances at kagaya who looked peaceful.

when the class ended the professor asked her to stay behind. he told her that her grades were failing and if doesn't do anything about it she’ll have to take it again next semester. of course, being one of the school's delinquents, she did not listen to a word he said but her heart dropped to his next words.

“i'm afraid you’ll need tutoring. im sure ubuyashiki won't mind tutoring you.”

she choked on her own saliva as her professor gave her a concerned look and asked her if she was ok. y/n gave him a nod and asked him when which he responded

“well im not sure, i’ll remind you if i have talked to ubuyashiki”

(name) walked out of class zoning out, ignoring that someone has been trying to get her attention. she snapped out of her thought when the person tapped her shoulder

when she saw it was ume and behind her was kagaya who was walking towards her, she quickly grabbed ume’s hand and ran to the building of their dorms. ume smacked (names) head and called her an idiot.

“we were supposed to get lunch! now we’re back here so you buy our lunch!” she demanded to her best friend and went to talk about what happened in chemistry. ume noticed that her friend was not interested in a word she was saying so she shut her mouth.

“no, continue your story i was listening” that caused ume to have a smile on her face and talked. she asked her what happened in economics and (name) told everything.

ume smacked her head again and scolded her for “wasting her chance with kagaya” she ignored the girl and poured herself a cup of water and drank it while going to her messages. one message had caught her attention and when she read it she choked on her water causing ume to panic and slap her back.

“jesus you don’t have to slap it that hard,” she coughed out before yelling “holy shit! holy-“ looking at her roommate while her roommate was looking at her all confused.

“he accepted it! my confession!” she twirled around, hugged ume, ran around, before diving on her bed to smack it, stood up to hug ume again to thank her, going outside, giving her roommate some money for food, going inside again and calmed herself which she failed as she continued to act like that for another 5 minutes.

when she calmed down she showed her best friend what he had sent her, causing the two of them to squeal for another 2 minutes.

eventually they both calmed down and ordered something. since (name) had a free period she decided to sleep for 2 hours and when the alarm went off she fixed herself and dressed up.

as she had a date with her long-time crush.

🍒 reblogs and notes are appreciated !

🍒 sft-chrry 2023

#rii’s fic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #fluff #modern au #songfic #kagaya ubuyashiki #kagaya x reader #kagaya ubuyashiki x reader #kagaya fluff

[ruina6471]

Studying historical figures to learn astrology.

When I look at a chart, the first thing I do is identifying which astrological body is the most influential, most powerful. I do not consider myself proficient in astrology, so there’s no elaborate theory behind it. I derived this method from my considerable experience of Tarot card reading—if you trust your cards absolutely wholeheartedly, you can predict the future. I get results that sometimes spook myself and my client.

Let me show you one such case—a client is worried about their final examination, they have only 4 days left to study. The subject is advanced math. They considered asking one of the class tutors to help them.

Issue one- Asking for help from this tutor? Result- Lover/10 of swords—not a good option. The tutor feels no urgency for himself and would stray from the class topic. The client learns nothing at all and is really bad at it.

Issue two- will the client pass this semester? Result- 3 of cups/ the Hierophant. The client IS GOING TO SAFELY PASS THIS CLASS, even though they studies advanced math very poorly. Here, The Hierophant could be identified as the most influential force.

I used Arabian Night Tarot for this client, the 3 of cups shows several women trying to talk an aristocrat into something on a banquet. The Hierophant is a Holy Man who left his body behind as a relic for his disciples.

I tell this client- a handful of people will totally fuck up this exam, as bad as you, you obviously know nothing about math; and this “handful of students” is a big enough number that will make the teacher worried. This group of students will most likely go and negotiate with the teacher for a solution. There will be a group discussion. I advise you pay attention to who fail the test as bad as you, and join this group.

In the end, the teacher will choose to grade the students on class participation, student’s moral value, respect of the teacher and class hard work instead of a number on a final exam—the teacher will try to seek out a kind of “higher moral value”. You will NOT fail this class. You will be safe. Client was still nervous about the exam and incredulous.

A week later, this client came back and tells me what happened- on the final exam date, OVER HALF OF THE STUDENTS simply gave up on math and not show up at all. The tutors and the teacher went into panic mode. They all went away and discuss what to do, and came back with “cancellation of the exam, the grades will be based on class homework and attendance”.

Such is the predictive power of identifying an influential card.

///

Now back to astrology. All in all, identifying the most crucial planet, then focus solely on it, becomes a way I try to learn reading a chart (disclaimer disclaimer, I’m not an astrologer). I attempt to test this method on charts of historic figures.

I’ve been thirsting over this pretty gentleman here for a while now— one disgruntled by Moscow weathers that he let anti-Hitler faction does activities among his staff, but hehehe I should stop now.

Fedor von Bock has a very prominent and identifiable Uranus in his chart, in tight conjunction with his ascendant. The tighter the conjunction, the more powerful it is. The conjunction is within one degree.

Let us remind ourselves the natures of Uranus—extremely sudden, intense, and high strung; as sharp as a stabbing knife; does not appreciate soft and tender aspects of life. Uranus is very unfavorable to forming stable relationships, but will have multiple exciting and bizarre love affairs. It signifies sudden destruction, accidents and defiance. Uranus will stab you, drive the blade in deep, and twist the handle. Dry and high just like some Aquarius are, Uranus is not easy to get along, let alone get close and dear to.

Since Uranus is extremely high strung, its natives have tense nerves and weak stomach- It is likely true that Fedor suffers from stomach ulcers. I suspect indigestion too, as if his body rejects food and drinks and would rather live on breathing air. Uranus affects him so deep that it is probable he chose to make these inconveniences part of his character. He has extremely poor ability to relax and rest.

The following is the account from Hitler's Generals by W.E. Hart.

Traditionally, it is SATURN who gives discipline, not Uranus. Saturn is structure; Uranus is anti-structure and highly individualistic. SATURN nourishes the body and a person's material realities, URANUS doesn't care. It is unlikely that Fedor values cultivating structure and disciplined routine in his soldiers, it is more likely that he's a fucking hammer, and he fucking drives everybody into the ground. It is a very important distinction to make.

His Uranus shines so much you'd have a hard time believing Fedi is Sagittarius, a joyful, benevolent Jupiter sign. I honestly do not believe this chart has a strong Saturn, either. I would contend that Fedi did not purposefully sent his soldiers to die like a sadistic, calculated monster. The truth is, URANUS cannot grasp the physical-materialistic-structural-reality aspects. Fedi could not comprehend soldiers are people, and people have bodies, bodies die and then bodies rot, the whole thing is messy. He sees it as a sudden burst of flames, then you are no more on this earth, and it is beautiful. One of the rare things that would move him to tears.

It is understandable that Fedi by nature could not handle logistics (hopefully his staff can). It is true that war experts attribute Germany's failure in WWII as a huge logistical problem. He is poor at providing food and shelter for his men. The bodily aspect doesn’t occur to him until the harsh Russian conditions hits him like a ton of bricks. He would be so affected by it, his own body would crumble.

///

So it's time to drive a point home- not all the time we learn a person by his stars, but we learn about a star from this person, and it is an incredible and valuable lesson. ASTROLOGY CANNOT REPLACE HONEST AND FACTUAL HISTORICAL STUDIES. Never could.

As mentioned, Fedi's Saturn is weak compared to Uranus. Saturn would return a person to their ancestry and tradition; it reminds you that you are part of a structure, a tiny spec in a cold Universe, a screw in the societal machinery. Its reminder can be ruthless and blunt, but its rewards reliable and long lasting. I do NOT believe Fedi sees himself as a part of the Nazi structure and would like to gain a kind of lasting rewards from it.

Here's an interesting thing- modern astrologers tell you that Uranus natives are innovative, cool, they like new stuff, new ideas, new technologies blah blah blah; but Fedi is a well-known and well documented Prussian aristocrat traditionalist. In my opinion, i is because astrologers forget that the generational outer planets are TIMELESS. if "time" is an idea inherently incongruent with Uranus, how do you define what is OLD and what is NEW, say? That is totally meaningless to Fedi-- Prussian ideal is just an intense timeless light for him to burst into flames to. The rest is not important.

Modern astrologers could get things so hilariously wrong, if they do not respect history, but want history to fit into their "modern and better" astrological interpretations to a point of harmful revisionism. Hopefully not many of them are like that.

All that aside, enjoy more fun facts about Fedi-

#fortune telling #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot #tarot card story time #tarot cards #astrology #astro community #uranus #fedor von bock #horoscope #astro studies

[stuffeddeer]

CONTAINS: mentions of a fictitious car crash, the occasional threat of death, gender neutral reader

While some may disagree, nothing is as painful as boredom.

Now more than ever you believed this, seated in the back corner of your classroom, cheek resting in the palm of your left hand. You didn’t even want to take this class; World Music has nothing to do with your major. However, it fulfilled some stupid university credit that everyone needs in order to graduate. Glancing down towards your empty notebook, you grabbed a pen with your free hand.

big drum = big sound

You scrawled the four words down before lazily looking back up at your professor. He had spent the last 20 minutes explaining the difference between the same two drums, and you weren’t excited to listen to the rest of his lecture… So, you didn’t. Your focus shifted from the tall, orange-haired man in the front of your class to the bickering just outside it, head tilting slightly to the side. The walls in the basement of your university’s Fine Arts building were thin, so even though your seat was situated at the other end of the classroom’s closed door, the pattering of footsteps still made its way through. Along with that, you could hear the tick of the clock that was hung up above the teacher’s desk at the front reading 1:27 pm—you still had 23 minutes left of this horribly boring class. What that also meant is that any student walking through the halls must be from a class that was let out exceedingly early.

Only two pairs of footsteps echoed outside the classroom, a pair of bickering voices accompanying them. If a class got out early, surely there would be more—both in terms of footsteps and voices. Maybe two students were arriving to a class early? This far in the semester, it was safe to say this would be a common occurrence if true, however, you had never heard anyone pass by at this time before today. These two weren’t students arriving early to a class, or leaving early from another. Two people wouldn’t be arriving 30 minutes late, at that point they’d skip the class. You put the tip of your pen between your teeth as you thought.

Maybe the pair had been getting out late? The basement of the fine arts building does house just about all of the campus’ art classes, maybe they had a project coming up and decided to stay and work late. No, all of the art classrooms are situated to the left of the basement, these two were coming from the right. Perhaps they were lost kids, visiting colleges for the following year? Maybe professors, bickering over lazy students and assignments they had yet to grade. Or maybe, piggybacking on your earlier idea, the two had come early to work on a project outside of class…

“Are you still with us?” You realized Mr. Patrick had stopped banging his drums when he called out your name. Oops, you zoned out. Your coworkers always warn you that you tend to zero in on one thing and need to work on being more aware of your surroundings. A small smile pulls at your face. Maybe you should drop out of school: you’re learning more from your current part-time job than your stupid World Music class.

“Yes, sorry. Just listening to the difference in the drums.” I’m listening to the muffled conversation happening in the halls, you thought to yourself. The pen you were chewing on a moment earlier was placed next to your notebook.

Your teacher hummed in response. “Is that so? Then maybe you can explain the difference for the rest of your classmates.” Maybe you can explain the need for this class— you held your tongue, choosing to clear your throat instead of being gifted a lecture from your professor.

“I’m willing to try,” your voice was lighthearted and playful as the hand that was holding your head up dropped to cover your suspicious lack of notes. “While both drums are marketed the same and share the same size, the one on the left has a richer, deeper sound when played,” You almost let an embarrassed smile slip as you improvised your explanation. “I would guess that there was a miscalculation during its production, and the left drum is likely a tiny bit bigger than the right, creating said deeper sound.” By the end of your explanation, your cheeks were slightly tinted. While you had coasted through school by bullshitting answers, you truly had no idea if you could get away with this one. Damn those two outside of the class, this wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t been here.

The longer the teacher didn’t respond, the worse your red cheeks got—and your cruel professor remained silent for what felt like a while after your little speech (which, in reality, had only been a few seconds).

“So you had been listening, glad to hear it. Yes, the difference is…” as Mr. Patrick went back to explaining the drums, you let out a sigh of relief, head dropping ever so slightly as your eyes closed. The confidence you had just shown as you gave your answer was an act, one you weren’t sure you could’ve kept up if he had urged you to continue. You couldn’t afford to zone out again: you had to let the strangers outside go.

With newfound determination, you grasped your pen once more and looked back up to your ginger music professor. Paying attention isn’t that hard, you can do this.

At least, that’s what you hoped, until the same strangers that had helped soothe your boredom for a moment stopped just outside the door to your classroom. You clicked your tongue in disdain—it felt as though they were tempting you, telling you you’re so close, just think a little harder! Those assholes—no way would you do that again. You had a feeling Mr. Patrick wouldn’t be as kind if you were caught zoning out for a second time. Besides, it hadn’t even been five minutes. Whoever was bickering outside your classroom could choke for all you cared, as long as they stopped distracting you.

“Fine, then let’s just ask!” was the first full sentence you could make out from the pair before the cheap wooden door on the back left corner of your small white classroom swung open.

This was definitely distracting you.

Glancing over from your place in the back right corner, you finally got to see the people that caused you to anxiously ramble in front of your whole class even if you’d done so correctly and confidently, the assholes you’d end yourself.

Holy shit.

Your eyes widened when you noticed who had burst into your classroom: a bandaged brunet and a bespectacled blond, two of your coworkers. You wondered if you had ever looked away so quickly before this moment. It suddenly made sense, why the bickering seemed so familiar and why you couldn’t pinpoint the reason for the pair’s appearance. They weren’t supposed to be here, and you made sure to scratch a quick fuck you into your notebook so you’d remember this later. After all, if you forgot, how could you make sure to complain to your boss?

“May I help you?” Mr. Patrick was careful to put down the two drums he had been cradling very delicately as he addressed the two men that had barged in.

Feeling embarrassed, you placed your hand flat against your cheek, turning your head down and hoping your face was hidden. You can’t believe these two would pull such a stunt as this, especially the blond. Wasn’t he a teacher at one point? Shouldn’t he know not to interrupt a class?

“We’re sorry to-“ before the aforementioned blond could properly explain the situation, his brunet partner started talking over him.

“I believe you can help us, you see, we’re looking for a student that goes here,” he punctuated the sentence with your full name. Seeing as the teacher had recently said your name to humiliate ask you a question, every student in the class turned to the back right corner, directly to where you sat—or, rather, where you slouched, as you had curled your body in on itself in an attempt to hide.

“Is that so? May I ask why?” You silently cheered, hoping Mr. Patrick would scare these two morons away so you wouldn’t have to deal with all of your peers’ eyes directed towards the safe back corner you resided in.

But of course, nothing was that simple. The tall brunet you had come to occasionally appreciate at work started tearing up, ready to give the performance of a lifetime.

“It’s hard to vocalize,” he started by stuttering. “You see, we came to tell them that their dear sister has…” the man paused briefly as you peaked through your fingers with an amused smile, ready to see how this would play out. “Their sister got into a car crash,” and he burst into tears. Quite the actor, but it’s a good thing you are, too.

You didn’t really have a choice but to play along. What were you supposed to say? ‘No, he’s lying; Please resume your boring ass lecture?’ So, you contorted your face to make it seem like you were about to cry (fake crying was something you had yet to master) and pulled your hands down your face. “She what?” Spinning from your spot, you looked directly at the two.

“We need you to come with us, so we may escort you to the hospital where she is being held.” The blond did not look comfortable with the brunet’s show, and simply walked out of the classroom as he continued.

You’re the worst, you wanted to say. Instead, you stood up, packed your nearly empty notes into your backpack, and followed your blond coworker into the hall.

“You see, sir, they need to visit their sister. If you can excuse their absence this once…”

“Of course, I won’t take any points off; This is an emergency.” You rolled your eyes as you overheard your teacher’s voice. You were supposed to save me, Mr. Patrick.

The tall brunet slipped into a hallway and immediately his eyes dried, a cocky smirk appearing on his face.

“I hope you get into a car accident,” you whisper, swinging a backpack strap over your shoulder as you start following the blond, who now stood at the end of the hallway. He stood impatiently, as was indicated by the tapping of his foot and him checking his watch repeatedly.

“Not the first time I’ve gotten that.”

“I find that extremely easy to believe.”

The two annoyances in the hall were none other than Kunikida Doppo and Dazai Osamu: employees at your part-time job.

AKA: the only people that could make you miss the torturous boredom.

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd scenarios #kunikida doppo #kunikida x reader #kunikida doppo x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader

[ohmy-venus]

Heyyy… long time no see! I’ve been meaning to finish and post this on ao3 for ages but work and college have gotten very much in the way of me finishing it, I decided I wanted to post this Fic here instead of letting it rot in my Google doc! If anyone wants me to continue it, I’d be more then happy to pick it back up! Anywho, I hope y’all enjoy!!

~This fic uses Y/N heavily but that may change in the future(if I pick it up again) Price is in green and the reader is purple! The professor(s) will all be in orange!!~

~Freshman year: Semester 1~

"Welcome to your first class of the semester students!"

It's 9:00 am, a group of 20-30 students are seated in a beige room alongside me as we listen to our English teacher, Mr. Williams introduce himself and take attendance. I'm seated in the last row in the back of the auditorium room away from the majority of the students. I didn't have many friends at this college since I had decided to attend a community college several cities away from the one I grew up in, not only that I had also taken a gap year to save some money. I looked around at the other students in the class, the majority of them seemed to have come straight from high school and seemed younger than I was. Of course there were a few that seemed around my age, one specifically peaked my attention...

Mr. Williams projected an image up on the screen of our first assignment of the semester, it had paired up names and the thesis topic we each needed to present at the end of the next upcoming week. I could hear the audible groans coming from my fellow classmates, I simply lowered my head and hoped the person I would be paired up with wasn't an asshole.

"Now-now students, don't get so excited about this! I'll be ending class early so you can meet your partners and begin working on your assignment as soon as possible. This will go towards your final grade and will not be curved! Now get to it!" Mr. Williams left the projected image up for us to find our partners and headed to his office to work on his other classroom's paperwork. I walked up to the projector and searched for my name,

"Y/N... L/N..." I softly repeated to myself as I went through the list. Once I finally found my name I saw the name of my assigned partner, 'Jonathan Price'. With this I looked around the now busy and loud room, I scanned the area and searched for my partner. After a few quick scans, I was able to spot a tall guy with mutton chops and a large frame who seemed to be doing the same as I was. Our eyes met, it was brief but it was enough time to acknowledge each other and realize we had found one another, I waved at him and quickly made my way over to him. I walked through the large crowd of students as I made my way to his general location.

I stood in front of him taking in how incredibly tall he actually was, definitely over 6', not only that he was pretty muscular... I snapped out of my slight trance as I extended my hand out to him.

"Hi! I'm going to assume you're Jonathan Price?" I flash a kind smile at him as I hoped I hadn't mistaken him for another person. "Hello! I am in fact him! But please, Call me John. I'll assume you're Y/N? Its nice to finally have a face to the name!” He said as he reached for my hand to shake, his lips curve into a soft and gentle smile. His grip was strong around my hand, It reminded me of my father's handshake in a way or what I imagine it would feel like to get a handshake from Shaq. After a few moments he let go of the grip he had on my hand and stood in front of me awkwardly for a moment, I broke the silence between us by suggesting we head to the library to escape the noisy classroom and start on our thesis assignment. We walked alongside each other and reserved a study room for the two of us.

"I'm glad we got out of there, it felt like I had to yell for you to hear me. Anyways, We should start now so we don't procrastinate about it later!"

#john price #call of duty #cod x reader #jonathan price #cod modern warfare #idk how to tag this #i’m so confused #fanfic #fic writing #alternate universe #strangers to friends #friends to lovers #draft fanfic #fandom #cod fanfic #price x reader #work in process

[lohkeuncensored]

Sometimes ranting about my issues help, but you're not obligated to pay attention

I've never failed anything school related; I was close once, back when I was 15, but I've always pulled through with mediocre to high grades.

The way things are going right now, that might change soon.

I'm on the 5th semester of my bachelors and I am so burnt out. I've gotten through a lot by the help of spite, but this semester (which I started out being so excited and interested) have drained me so much. And I blame all of it on my study group.

We are four in the group. Me, Tamara, Klaus and Martin. The class was split into two special lines at the end of the 4th semester, which made it difficult to create my own group for this semester as we were told to, as all the people I talked to chose the other special line of the education.

Tamara asked me if I wanted to group up, which I agreed to. I was just happy to be asked, you know?

The school wanted us to create 3-man groups, but on the first day after summer vacation it turned out that there was two 2-man groups, so we were combined into one 4-man group. I should have protested that.

Klaus was new to the class, as he'd just gotten back from a year with being sick due to stress, so I don't really blame him for anything; I know things can be hard, and I understand the struggles. Basic empathy, right?

The second time he called out from having a bad day, we all told him that we hoped that he'd feel better soon, as you do. And then the other two started talking about him in class, while he was home: they agreed that mental issues was just a bad excuse, and that you just had pull yourself together get past it. So, it was confirmed that I wouldn't be able to talk with them if I had issue, got it.

I told Klaus, privately, to let me know if there was anything I could do to help and that the others weren't as understanding to mental struggles.

We've been projecting a renovation of a 215 year old hospital/school building, and distributed different parts of the building between us. I got the top floor and the roof, and was to find a solution for getting more natural light.

The building is currently condemned due to mold, so we were geared up like we were in Breaking Bad when we got to go and see it.

Anyway, back to my issue.

I did sketches upon sketches of potential solutions, and we discussed it in the group, as one should with it being a group project, but every time I opened the digital model that we'd started on Martin had been in there and changed things in my work.

"Why is there a glass wall on my floor?" Martin thought that the best way to get natural light in a symmetrical building was to remove the right side of the hipped roof, making the ridge go all the way out the the wall and then put in a glass wall instead of bricks.

"Who moved the gypsum wall on my floor?" Martin thought that I had placed it wrong and moved it without asking.

On the topic of possible solutions for more natural light, I barely managed to suggest a dormer before Martin loudly proclaimed "no" and when asked for a reason, he said "because they're ugly" instead of being constructive.

Besides there being tonnes of more examples like this, he's also said things like "I have a friend who'd siding with Palestine, which is clearly wrong," and it feels like there's been at least one racist or general chauvinist comment on a daily basis, and it's just built up.

When I've complained to the others, they've been understanding and seemingly on my side, until I've tried to confront Martin on his behavior. I understand Klaus not wanting to get into a confrontation; he barely knows us and is still trying to get past his own issues. Tamara on the other hand are "apparently" trying to be neutral and find a middle road, without really noticing that Martin is messing with things that were already approved by the group and ruining several hours of my work without reason. But hey, it's not her work that he's messing with, so it's not that bad, right?

I tried to tell him that if there was things he was unhappy with, he should tell us when it first discussed, instead of bringing it up weeks later, when I'm about to put the finishing touches on my work. He legitimately just dismissed my complaint and ignored me, so yeah, I admit it, I got a bit emotional due to the disrespect. I'm a crier because no one ever taught me how to regulate my emotions, and I don't deal overly well when people won't listen to me.

And then fucking Tamara interfered by, condescendingly, saying "you shouldn't get emotional, Lohke. You're an adult and about to soon enter the workforce and no one wants to hire someone emotional."

Admittedly, I blew a casket.

I stood up and yelled at her "that it just doesn't always work like that, Tamara!" and fucked off to go cry in the bathroom.

I'm the oldest one of the four of us, but honestly Tamara seems to be of the idea that she's the most mature, presumably because she is the only one who has a child.

I can not with people talking down to me like that. I've been in the workforce for close to a freaking decade, and I've never been treated with this level of disrespect from someone who wasn't family before.

The last couple of months since then, I've stopped coming with inputs to the project, because I honestly don't care anymore. Everything has piled up too much and I've fallen into a hole of apathy, that I can't claim out of.

The exam is soon and I'm not overly hopeful.

If you've read this far, please cross your fingers that I'll at least manage a passing grade. Thanks.

#personal #mental struggles #i hate group projects

[the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis]

if you're still doing the fanfic director's cut ask game i'd love to hear you talk about any section/line/fic you want to!

i am ABSOLUTELY still doing this ask game, thank you so much! (sorry it took me forever to answer, I underestimated how much thought it would require.)

i decided to write about "a morning cup of sunshine," my bella/jacob coffee shop au, because it's maybe the fic of mine i had the most fun writing! cheers.

there’s still at least one bizarre new disaster every shift. Today’s, this just in! The to-go cup lids from the new sleeve, despite being the same brand and size they always buy, don’t fit on any of the cups! Stay tuned for that mystery never being resolved.

so, I have never worked in a coffee shop, but I have worked a shitty food service job where we serve drinks, (including occasionally coffee!), and this has happened to me twice now.

“Medium mocha?” she asks, instead of making any stupid comments about his laugh sounding like sunshine. (Which honestly, she’s an English major, she should be able to come up with less cliché lines than that—if she were trying. Which she’s not. Even Jess, who Bella’s witnessed writing love notes to the TAs on her exams without any shame, doesn’t flirt with customers.)

two things here: Jacob's laugh does sound like sunshine, Bella, it's okay. also, Jessica writing love notes to her TAs on exams is based on a real thing that happened to one of my best friends the first time he was a TA...it weirded him out so bad he handed the exam off to someone else to grade, lol

he strides off to wait for his drink, head bobbing adorably the second he pops his earbuds back in.

he's listening to heavy metal, for the record, as Jacob is in everything i write. also this turned into a modern au, so I get to project my music taste onto him and say he's listening to either Heartless by Pallbearer or Transpiration by Ovnev.

It’s all she can do to snatch a glimpse of him while (inexplicably, it’s February and forty degrees out there at best), scooping ice into someone’s americano.

this is a shout-out to my little sister, who only drinks iced coffee, even though we live in a place with actual seasons and cold winters. she's a maniac.

Lauren’s taken over for Mike, which means she’ll definitely get yelled at if she tries to check the text, even covertly.

I fucking LIVE for Lauren&Bella interactions. someday i'll finish my lauren mallory fic and you'll all be sorry. in this case, I just satisfy myself with imagining that Lauren is taking way too many credits and probably studying business because she's a #girlboss, and she's stressed all the time, and definitely well within her rights to tell Bella not to check her phone during a rush but also absolutely doing so way more aggressively than necessary. Bella dropped an espresso shot on Lauren's toe over a year ago when she was training, and they've hated each other ever since. this is unfortunate for Bella's friendship with Jessica, because Jess and Lauren are roommates.

hey its jake :) just wanted 2 say thnks 4 the note, rlly needed to hear that 2day so yea thank YOU 4 bein u

Bella sinks back against the wall. There’s a ridiculously giddy smile stealing across her face, and her fingers fly through a response.

Of course! I was just being honest, after all, you ARE definitely the highlight of my day…and basically the entire semester at this point.

it's very important to me that everyone knows that bella texts like she's writing an essay and has no idea how to use emojis. jacob texts like he has a flip phone, (he doesn't), and is literally indecipherable 98% of the time. he started doing it specifically to annoy his sisters.

and then I guess I have some other random worldbuilding thoughts I wanted to talk about?

this is an au where Bella stayed in Arizona through high school, and then ended up at UW for college with the vague intention of being closer to Charlie, and then did not follow through on that at all. Jacob Black is actually still Bella’s former childhood acquaintance, and the son of Billy Black, Charlie’s current best friend...it’s just been long enough and context is different enough that neither of them realize. (it’s going to be very fun when they get to have an actual conversation and put that together...which is going to take them ridiculously long to do.)

Edward dumped Bella in a deeply traumatic and terrible way, and it absolutely sucked because they were 100% one of those college couples who think moving in together is a good idea, and then she had to move out and find a place to crash very quickly.

the reason Jake disappeared for a couple weeks and then came back very, very sad is that Harry Clearwater died. rip king. sorry you couldn’t survive even in the happy coffee shop au, but the prompt said jacob had to be sad about something

also, i never decided what jacob was studying...i don’t know why, but I’ve never been able to work out what I think he would go for college for

this was very fun, thank you for asking! and if you read all of this...thank you for reading, lol.

#thank you sm for the ask! #i maybe went a little overboard with this answer #but it was surprisingly fun

[gravityups]

Gravity Falls and how it kind of saved me

Even thought it’s a little late, I felt like I should make a post about what Gravity Falls means to me. And how it kind of saved my life.

Last fall, I was in college. Halfway through the semester I got sick and had to drop out. It was kind of the final straw; I was struggling for two years, had low grades in half my classes, and had been so depressed and anxious I was having hallucinations. So, to put it lightly, I felt like nothing mattered anymore.

Now don’t get be wrong, this wasn’t a BOOM OMY GOSH GRAVITY FALLS SAVED MY LIFE kind of deal.

Not really. I put it on when I was bored on day and it just... comforted me.

Mable and Dipper felt like the loving banter I had with my sister. The humor between them was exactly like ours; the cheesy jokes, combining words, playing stupid made up games, arguing for hours and then going outside to find a fairy. God I could talk about them for hours. Grunkle Stan reminded me of my dad (do not take this out of context, I will explain). The tough guy persona, soft on the inside, lovable goofball. I remember being especially impacted by him wanting to ‘toughen dipper up.’ It was exactly what my dad had said to me a million times as a kid. He’s still proud of me like the way Stan is proud of Dipper.

And that’s only one part about the show that I love. The weird creatures, each character’s quirks and unique signature, the captivating mystery, and the childlike but exciting stories. It touched me in a way I haven’t felt since I was in middle school. I felt like I was waking up again. I wanted more. And that’s when I got into fanfiction.

At first it was only to kind of ‘sedate’ the thirst after the shows ending (I cried for a good long while on the final episode). But then after a few fantastic stories, some fanart, and a good amount of daydreaming I realized: holy crap I could do this too.

During my entire childhood I had wanted to be a writer. I had notebooks filled with ideas and years worth of stories on my laptop. Freshman year of high school the hard drive broke and I lost it all. I lost years worth of content that I would never see again. Before I knew it that accident and my depression had killed my love for writing. I hadn’t wrote a single story idea down in five years.

That night, I wrote six thousand words in one sitting. It was like I found a cure, finished a race, won a medal.

I found it easier to write stuff about characters I already understood instead of struggling to make my own. The words flowed like water under my hand. I felt like I could write anything I wanted whenever I wanted. I wasn’t terrified about running out of energy or interest and never coming to it again. I could just DO

Gravity Falls brought my passion back from the dead. It kickstarted what I’ve done ever since I could talk, and I’ve discovered that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. I know it’s sappy but, it made me want to live again

So thank you, Gravity Falls, for a fantastic story that has touched so many people. But also...

Thank you you, community, for being the lifeblood of Gravity Falls. The show wouldn’t be what it is without you.

#gravity falls #gravity falls ten years later #rant #happy birthday gravity falls

[motownfiction]

bad plan

In hindsight, Sadie should have known it was a bad plan.

Actually, it wasn’t much of a plan at all. Just something she had cooked up in her head. More like a fantasy. It’s just that she saw it so clearly.

It’s tenth grade, early into the second semester, and St. Catherine’s is getting ready to put on its annual Sweetheart Dance. Lucy’s trying to convince them to change the name to something less romantic, something that’s more forgiving of people who don’t want to pretend to be married while they’re still teenagers – to no avail. That’s the thing about the Sweetheart Dance. You can’t attend unless you have a date. Boys with girls; girls with boys, no exceptions, nothing in between. Lucy’s not going, despite Will’s bad plan to ask her (and her secret desire, in a perfect world, to go with him, which only Sadie knows about). But Sadie wants to go. Thinks it’s worth a shot to see what it’s all about.

And she’s going to ask Daniel.

She’s not sure what’s gotten into her. Desperation, probably. Here she is, almost sixteen years old, and only been kissed once, by a boy who didn’t pay any attention to her the next day. Sixteen and dateless. Of course.

And she really should have thought about that. The differences between Daniel and herself. While Sadie’s been busy being nearly sixteen and completely dateless, Daniel’s been making time with girls in the sophomore and junior classes since last spring. She knows. First, because they’re friends, and he talks about it. Second, because she went to see him after the night he spent with Melissa Kaminski last May. Third, because she walked in on him with Vicky St. John in the abandoned third-floor bathroom at the mall. Sadie knows all about Daniel’s conquests. Too much, probably.

But she thinks about the first point again. Her palms sweat. She feels like a tired metaphor. They’re friends. Best friends, maybe, if you think about it. Daniel might make time with lots of different girls, but he’s never had one girlfriend. He doesn’t even take girls out on more than one consecutive date. If Sadie asks Daniel to the Sweetheart Dance, just as friends, just so she can say she went and saw what it was all about, he’ll say yes. He has to say yes. They’re friends.

She wipes her hands on her green tartan skirt and walks up to Daniel at his locker at the end of the school day. It’s a Tuesday afternoon, ten days before the dance is supposed to take place. When Daniel asks her what’s going on, she laughs through the question like it means nothing to her. She’s pretty sure he buys it, too. Daniel’s better at perceiving his own feelings than he is at perceiving hers (or so she thinks, after a whole life of less-than-covert pining). As she laughs for the last time, she waits for Daniel’s yes.

But it never comes.

Instead, he just stands there and rubs the back of his neck. He says he’s sorry and that he wishes she would have asked him yesterday. But Kim Campbell asked him the day before. He knew he had to say yes. It hasn’t even been two months since Robby Blair died, and he was her boyfriend. Daniel couldn’t turn down a girl who’d recently lost her boyfriend. He just couldn’t.

And Sadie, always feeling the feelings of the whole world plus two, smiles and nods along with his answers.

Of course, she says. You have to go with Kim. It’s, like, a rule.

Daniel smiles, maybe a little sadly, and thanks her for understanding. So, Sadie shuffles home, her bad plan trailing behind her.

Maybe she can still get her money back on that dress she bought.

(part of @nosebleedclub october challenge -- day xvii!)

#drabble #writeblr #ch: sadie doyle #ch: daniel deluca #ship: still the same #year: 1983