#me and my friend would pass notes in class using this code

[42uneatenwatermelon]

infodump about something I made a while ago incoming read it if u have time to lose

hi hello Im a random person with a special interest in codes and ciphers and a few years ago I got so damn bored in class I started making up stories, that I've now completely given up on, about a secret society that used drawings and motifs to comunicate to their members that lived amongst humans

called it the Tree code but honestly if anyone has better idea give them to me I suck at naming shit

this code works by drawing trees, one tree being a word and the branches the letters

these are very simple way to draw these branches but they are very customizable what maters is the number of points

as you can see there are left letters and right letters the point of which is to reduce the number of branches by combining left and right letters that are next to each other (even if they are in the wrong order u just switch them)

YOU CANNOT COMBINE TWO LETTERS THAT AREN'T NEXT TO EACH ONTHER ORIGINALY

as an exemple have the watermark I put on most of my art

now a big thing about this code is decoys in order to throw off anyone trying to decode these messages

for words it's simple enough, real words have 3 distinct roots, decoys have any other number

speaking of numbers, in the original lore the society also had a bunch of scientist and mathematicians that would also code their work so numbers and math symbols also needed coding

math and numbers, unlike the trees and punctuation that mostly stay on the ground, are designed to be drawn in a sky setting with constelations as symbols

these also have decoys

now there are 3 ways of using this code: quick, casual, formal

so like the trees, clouds need to have 3 distinct bumps to be a number (exept for the square root thingy which can be any number)

quick is very simple, no real sentences, just key words, no use of punctuations and shorten words as much as possible

basically just was is needed to convey the message and nothing more

for exemple a message hidden as a street mural

first you find the decoys

than u decode

or perhaps on a more sinister note

what a happy picture

what joy

now casual uses more proper sentences, still shorten words when u can

these are more for general messages that requires more details

for exemple messages hidden as a motif on a magazine/journal

or for everyday use within the society space because what was once just a way of hidding messags became an important part of their culture, now most place within the society's homes uses both code and english

the last use, formal, is mostly used for long ass texts such as history texts and research (not making an exemple of this one)

these tend to not bother with decoys and use proper wording and punctuation which leads to havins to use long word trees

which, yes, do look a bit weird but these texts are important and already well hidden so there isn't much use to make it not look like code

anyway this was a breakdown of the code I made in high school hope u enjoyed this infodump I really needed to put this all down into one place

[psformybss]

could you please write something about secret fiancé! reader and Drew and how they met and their love story? I see them being high school sweethearts

Folded Notes & History

series masterlist

warnings: fluff, high school slowburn

an: i also see them as high school sweethearts! i tried my best to keep it kinda vague because if i got into details this would have been over 10k words but if anyone wants to see anything specific ab high school or college lmk and i will definitely write it

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Junior year U.S. History smelled like old carpet, burnt coffee, and dry-erase markers that hadn’t been replaced since the Bush administration. The windows barely opened, the chairs squeaked every time someone moved, and the only working clock on the wall ticked just a little too loud.

Y/N sat in the second-to-last row, back straight, notes neat, her pen gliding across the lined paper in even strokes. She didn’t talk much in class—kept to herself mostly—but her notebooks were always full, color-coded, and annoyingly precise.

The seat behind her was usually occupied by Drew Starkey.

Basketball team starter. The kid who always had one earbud in until the teacher told him to take it out. Somehow managed to look both effortlessly tired and infuriatingly good in a wrinkled hoodie and scuffed-up Nikes. He wasn’t loud like the others. He laughed with his head tilted back and his whole chest, but he talked in this low, lazy voice that made people lean in.

He wasn’t in class that day.

Or the next.

By Friday, he slid into the desk behind her like he hadn’t missed a thing.

“Hey,” he said, a little raspy.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. Strep,” he said, tugging his hoodie up over his head and ruffling his hair. “Felt like swallowing knives.”

She winced. “Sounds awful.”

When the bell rang, everyone shuffled out—some slower than others, hoping to stall their way into lunch. Y/N was stuffing her folders into her bag when Drew tapped her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said again, a little more unsure this time. “You, uh… take good notes?”

She blinked. “What kind of question is that?”

He grinned. “The kind where I’m hoping you’ll let me borrow them.”

She stared for a second, weighing her options, then flipped open her binder and gently tore out three pages.

“Here,” she said. “Don’t crumple them.”

Drew took the pages like they were made of gold leaf. “Whoa. Color-coded and everything.”

“I like things to make sense,” she said with a small smile.

He gave her a look—just a flicker of something amused and genuine, like he hadn’t expected her to be funny. “Thanks. Seriously. I owe you.”

“You can pay me back by actually listening in class,” she teased.

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

From then on, something shifted.

It started subtly. He started saying hey every morning, even when he didn’t need notes. He started tossing her pens when hers ran out mid-lecture. When they got assigned group work, he pulled his desk up to hers before the teacher even finished talking.

They weren’t friends yet. But they were circling something.

One Wednesday in early February, she caught him doodling in the margins of his quiz while they waited for the bell. He passed her the paper before handing it in—Mr. Klein drawn as a Cold War dictator, complete with sunglasses and an absurdly large cigar. She snorted, smacked him lightly with her pen, and nearly got detention for “disrupting the learning environment.”

That afternoon, Drew waited by her locker.

She blinked in surprise. “Did you get lost?”

“Nah.” He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay…”

“You busy Friday?”

She tilted her head. “Why?”

“I was thinking… coffee. And maybe you could quiz me for the test. But mostly coffee.”

She raised a brow. “You’re using school as a cover to ask me out?”

“I’m multi-talented.”

She smiled. “I’m free after six.”

That Friday afternoon, the sky was overcast, and the wind had a bite to it—the kind that made you hunch your shoulders and tuck your hands deeper into your pockets. The coffee shop sat on the edge of downtown, nestled between a dusty used bookstore and a florist whose windows fogged from the heat inside. It smelled like cinnamon and espresso the second you walked through the door, the kind of scent that made you want to stay a little longer than you meant to.

Y/N slid into the corner booth first, the red vinyl cool beneath her jeans. Drew followed, his backpack thumping softly against the seat as he dropped it beside him. The table between them was scratched and slightly wobbly, and one of the overhead bulbs flickered every few seconds, casting them in and out of soft, golden light.

Drew’s hands dwarfed the paper coffee cup he held. He turned it in slow circles, fingers twitching around the lid. His foot tapped under the table in a restless rhythm—quick, uneven, like he couldn’t decide if he was cold or just anxious.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, tilting her head slightly, eyes flicking down toward the motion.

He offered a quick smile, almost sheepish. “Yeah. Just… too much energy, maybe. I had practice this morning, but I guess it didn’t wear me out enough.”

“You’re practically vibrating.”

“Could be the caffeine. Or nerves.” He met her gaze for a second and then looked away, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’d made a joke he wasn’t sure she’d laugh at.

She gave him a small smile. “Nervous about what?”

He shrugged, eyes on the lid of his cup. “I don’t know. Talking, maybe.”

“But you talk to everyone,” she said, brow raised.

“Yeah, but not like this.”

Her smile faltered slightly, not because his words were bad—but because they felt… honest. Real.

They had both said they needed to study. Finals were creeping up fast, and the stress was starting to hang over the school like storm clouds, thick and heavy. But neither of them had even unzipped their backpacks.

Instead, they talked.

About everything and nothing at all.

He told her about late nights after football practice—how the field looked different when it was empty and quiet, the stadium lights buzzing above him, casting long shadows. Sometimes he stayed behind after everyone left, just to sit in the silence. He told her how his shoulder clicked every time he threw too hard, and how he’d ice it without telling the coach because he didn’t want to be benched.

“I hate calculus more than I hate losing a game,” he confessed, resting his forehead against the heel of his hand. “And that’s saying something.”

“That bad?” Y/N asked, hiding a smile behind her cup.

Drew groaned. “It’s like a foreign language I was never supposed to learn. And the teacher… he acts like we’re just lazy, not confused.”

She nodded. “I get that. It’s the worst when they make you feel dumb for asking questions.”

“Exactly,” he said, lifting his head. “Like, I already feel stupid. No need to pile on.”

She traced the rim of her cup with one finger, letting the steam rise into her face. “That’s why I always study with music on. I can’t do silence—it makes everything feel heavier.”

Drew looked at her, curious. “Music helps?”

“It’s like… noise that doesn’t expect anything from me,” she said. “Just fills the space so my brain doesn’t spiral.”

He nodded slowly, like he was filing that away for later. “What kind of music?”

“Depends. If it’s math, it has to be instrumental. If it’s history, I can do lyrics. English? Full-on sad playlists.” She smiled at that. “Like tragic heartbreak anthems while I write essays.”

Drew laughed, the sound warm and low. “You’re way more strategic than I am.”

“I just can’t sit in a quiet room and focus. It makes me feel like I’m waiting to mess up.”

He was quiet for a second, watching her with a softness in his expression that hadn’t been there earlier. “I didn’t know that.”

She shrugged. “Not something I really talk about.”

He leaned back, stretching one arm over the booth. “Well, for the record, if you ever need study music, I make a mean playlist.”

“Oh yeah?” she teased. “Do you specialize in tragic heartbreak anthems too?”

“Only the best,” he grinned. “I’ve got taste, Y/N.”

They laughed, and the tension that had been buzzing low between them since they sat down seemed to lift, just a little.

Outside, the sky had faded into a dull blue-gray, and the streetlamps were flickering to life. Inside the café, the lights over the counter glowed golden, making everything feel softer, smaller—like they were the only ones in the world for a little while.

“I like this,” Drew said after a beat, his voice quieter now. “Just… talking.”

Y/N met his eyes. “Me too.”

His foot had finally stopped tapping. His hand rested on the table now, not far from hers.

“You make it easy,” he added.

Her heart jumped at that, but she kept her voice steady. “Easy to what?”

He shrugged, almost shy. “To be myself.”

There was a silence after that—not the kind that felt heavy or awkward, but the kind that settled between them like something gentle. Like understanding. Like maybe they were both just starting to see something they hadn’t quite realized before.

The following week, students spilled out of the building in slow waves, some lingering in clumps by the flagpole, others heading straight for their cars with earbuds in and heads down. Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, juggling her water bottle and a loose folder full of notes.

“Hey,” Drew’s voice cut through the low hum of chatter as he caught up to her just outside the double doors, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.

She turned, surprised. “Hey.”

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking unsure. “You headed out?”

“Yeah. Long day.”

“Wanna walk together?” he asked, his voice almost too casual. “I mean—I’ll walk you to your car. If that’s cool.”

It was.

They fell into step beside each other, his steps a little slower than usual to match hers. The air smelled like cut grass and something sweet from the vending machines by the gym. Neither of them said much, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a quiet ease in it. Just the occasional brush of his arm against hers and the low hum of his voice when he pointed out a sticker on someone’s bumper that made him laugh.

When they reached her car, she turned to unlock the door, but paused.

“Thanks,” she said softly, glancing up at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to say something more but didn’t.

Instead, he smiled. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Tomorrow.”

And he waited until she pulled out of the parking space before turning to leave.

A couple of weeks later, it was Thursday, right after seventh period. The bell had just rung, and the halls were buzzing with bodies and noise—slammed lockers, overlapping conversations, the occasional squeak of sneakers on linoleum.

Y/N was heading toward the front stairwell when she felt someone catch her hand gently from behind.

She turned, and there he was.

Drew.

Still wearing his practice jersey from PE, cheeks a little flushed, eyes scanning hers like he was trying to read something written just beneath the surface.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless, like maybe he’d jogged to catch up.

She smiled. “Hey. What’s up?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he stepped a little closer, checking over his shoulder. The hallway was mostly clear now, just a few stragglers around the far corner. His fingers laced through hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he murmured.

And then he leaned in.

His lips met hers in a kiss that was quick but warm, like a spark that caught and lit something deeper. It wasn’t showy, or practiced, or perfect—but it was real. He pulled back just enough to look at her, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face.

Her heart was racing, but she smiled back.

He tapped her knuckles gently. “See you eighth period.”

And just like that, he disappeared around the corner, leaving her standing in the middle of the hallway with a stunned grin and the taste of cinnamon gum still on her lips.

By the time spring bloomed and the world smelled like fresh grass and impending finals, they were inseparable. The kind of inseparable that made other people tease them in passing.

Afternoons were for shared iced coffees and laying in the sun behind the bleachers. Evenings were late-night phone calls that started with “I should probably study” and ended with whispered laughter and one of them falling asleep mid-sentence.

And that’s when she started writing him notes.

Little ones. Folded into triangles with sharp creases, sometimes stickers stuck to the outside—smiling suns or tiny frogs with glittery eyes. The messages varied. Sometimes it was a quote from a book she liked. Sometimes a joke from class. Sometimes just: good luck today or don’t fall asleep in history again or I’ll steal your hoodie.

She slipped them into the vents of his locker when no one was watching—between fourth and fifth period, right before his lit class. He never said much about them, but she’d catch glimpses: Drew standing at his locker, one shoulder pressed to the metal like he was shielding the moment from the world, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he read her words.

He kept them all.

She found that out months later, on a quiet Saturday afternoon in his room. The window was open, and the curtains moved with the breeze. She sat cross-legged on the floor, picking through a shoebox of old ticket stubs and tangled friendship bracelets, when she found them—flattened out notes stacked neatly under a band of ribbon.

“You kept them?” she asked, holding one up between two fingers, her voice caught somewhere between laughing and blushing.

Drew looked up from where he was sprawled on the bed, arms tucked behind his head. He didn’t even pretend to be embarrassed.

“They were the best part of my day,” he said simply.

She blinked at him, heart stuttering, and looked down at the mess of her handwriting, all those tiny things she’d never really expected him to remember—much less treasure.

“You’re such a sap,” she teased, but her voice was soft. Adoring.

He sat up then, barefoot and slightly rumpled, his t-shirt creased from the way he’d been lying. He rubbed the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous, and she tilted her head.

“What?”

“I was gonna wait,” he said, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. “Like… I had this idea to ask you at prom or something cheesy like that.”

She grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, still fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “But then you found the box, and you smiled like that, and—God, I really don’t wanna wait.”

Her smile softened. “Wait for what?”

He looked up at her then, finally, and she could see it in his eyes—the mix of hope and nerves, like the way he looked right before a big game.

“To call you my girlfriend,” he said. “Like, officially. If you want.”

She didn’t answer right away.

She leaned forward, one hand on the edge of the bed, the other still holding one of her notes, and kissed him—light and warm, like the breeze drifting through the open window. His hand found hers, fingers curling around her palm.

When she pulled back, she was still smiling.

“Of course I want to.”

And for a second, neither of them said anything else. The world felt small and soft and safe, like maybe everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

Then senior year came. So did prom, late-night drives, college decisions, and the terrifying realization that not everything lasted forever.

But somehow, they did.

Even when school ended.

Even when dorms and deadlines tried to pull them in opposite directions.

And now, years later, he still has that shoebox.

She still folds her notes into triangles.

And he still grins like a boy with a secret every time he finds one.

[boxofbadaddiction]

Something from Nothing

George Weasley x She/Her!Reader

Summary: George and Y/n are complete opposites. After striking up an unlikely friendship they refuse to admit their true feelings for one another... until tonight.

Warnings: Kissing. Don't go rolling around on cliff edges. That's it.

Prompts: 1 & 22

How you doin' // Why don’t you stop worrying about trying to sound smart all the time and just be yourself?

A/N: This is my first fic back from a 4 year-long hiatus, so please be kind.

Due to extremely stressful personal issues these past years, I haven't had the urge or passion to write like I did. I'm still not doing well but I'm hoping fanfic could be an escape again like it used to be. I'm going to start small, with some prompts from when I had only just started writing. See if we can't work our way up 🤞

Also, don't ask me how they got there idk I just wanted a different location.

This is a request from my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Prompt-list circa 2020-ish

George had a talent for trouble. Not the serious kind but just enough to make the teachers sigh and his classmates laugh. He was the guy who could talk his way out of detention and into the good books, who could turn a pop quiz into a game show. If there was a shortcut, he’d find it. If there was a risk, he’d take it. And if there was Y/n in the room, he’d make sure he was there to torment her.

Y/n was his opposite in just about every way. The girl had a planner for her planner. She colour-coded her notes. She studied for tests that weren’t even announced yet. She expected nothing less than perfection from herself — because anything less, to her, was failure.

And yet, somehow, George was her favorite person. And Y/n? She was his.

They’d been best friends since fifth year, when he’d “accidentally” tripped over her meticulously stacked pile of books and sent them flying down the hallway.

She, in return, sent George soaring to fetch them by use of a silent and precise casting of ‘Stupify’.

She’d marched up to his spread-out body on the hard stone floor. Shouting at him as he attempted to peel himself into an upright position. She called him a “walking disaster with a god complex,” and he’d responded with a sore but ever cocky smile, “You look good from this angle.”

Now, years later, they were still at it.

“George, have you ever actually tried at anything?” Y/n asked, flipping through her perfectly highlighted notes while he balanced his wand on his upper lip and rocked on the back legs of his library chair.

“Sure I have", he grinned, dropping himself heavily back on all four chair legs and scooting impossibly close to her side. “I try very hard to annoy you.”

“And yet, it seems to come so naturally,” she deadpanned.

He clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me, Y/n.”

“If only.” Y/n rolled her eyes.

It was always like that. The teasing, the insults wrapped in laughter. But underneath it, something unspoken wove itself delicately between them. Something soft… something real. Like a sweet perfume that lingers in the air from a passerby.

Neither acknowledged it.

George, for all his recklessness, never let Y/n push herself too far. When she stayed up studying until her eyes burned red, he’d show up with comfort foods from the kitchen elves and force her to take a break. When she got so caught up in her own expectations that she forgot how to breathe, he’d drag her outside and remind her that life wasn’t all a test.

Y/n, too, for all her self-doubt, never let George believe he was just the class clown. She saw through his jokes, past the playful smirks, into the boy who wanted to be enough but never felt like he was. When he got quiet, when he doubted himself, she was the one who reminded him, commonly with a sarcastic quip, but sometimes just by showing up. Reassuring he was worth more than just a cheap laugh.

They never talked about it. The pull between them. The way his hand would linger a second too long when he passed her an inkwell. The way she’d say his name like it meant something more to her than anyone else. The way their eyes would meet across a crowded room, and it felt like a secret only they understood.

And then, one night, nothing became something.

It was late. Too late. She was exhausted, her brain fried from studying, her nerves frayed from trying so hard. George had dragged her out to clear her head, "a public service,” he called it, “for the sake of your rapidly declining sanity.”

They ended up on the cliffside of the Castle, above the First Year entrance. Legs dangling over the edge, the Lake stretched out below them. Alive in the breeze, a mirror for the stars.

Y/n let out a breath, hands fiddling with the delicate vines of ivy beneath them. “Sometimes I wish I could be like you,” she confessed to the comfortable silence between them.

George looked at her, into her. “And sometimes I wish I could be like you.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, right. You’d die if you had to study as much as I do.”

“And you’d die if you had to wing it like I do!” He nudged her shoulder, eliciting the sweet melody of her subtle laughter. “Maybe that’s why we work.” He contemplated.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Do we?”

George’s usual smirk softened into something else. Something serious. An unfamiliar expression to the girl. “Y/n/n... why don’t you stop worrying about trying to sound smart all the time and just be yourself?” He’d meant it genuinely, though it came across as taunting.

She turned to him, her brows furrowing. “Wow, thanks! That’s a really poetic way of calling me stupid.”

He grinned. “No, I mean it. You’re good enough as you are, you know that, right?”

Y/n opened her mouth then closed it. ‘He always does this’ she thought. Always followed up something genuine within a joke, so it didn’t feel quite as heavy. Only this time she didn't fancy hearing whatever joke he had lined up next.

So she did what she always did. She deflected.

“Well, if you like me so much, why don’t you just date me?” She threw herself back to lay amongst the thick carpet of ivy. She phrased it like it was a joke, but the way her voice wavered gave her away.

George didn’t miss it. His grin turned softer, eyes warm in her glow.

“Maybe I would,” he murmured, resting his weight on his palm by her shoulder and tilting his head over her. “If you asked me properly” he crooned.

Y/n swallowed. Her heart thundering in her chest. He was too close. Or maybe not close enough.

“George…”

His grin was back, wickedly so, but there was something softer beneath his stare. A temptation he'd toyed with submitting to.

She inclined her chin, a quiet request he hadn't dare let himself dream of, laid and waiting before him. He gave in.

Their lips met in a tentative embrace. Both nervous, not knowing where this road may lead. The feeling of her so intimately against him made George melt, desperate for more he pressed down into her further. His wanting for her clear. With each pass of their lips across the others the kiss deepened, each taste more ravenous and wanton than the last. Soon they were pulled tight to each other, chest to chest, encased in one another's arms as tight as possible though somehow still not close enough.

George, reluctantly, broke the kiss. Forehead pressed to hers as they gasped for breath. Y/n whined at the loss, and he crashed into her again, not strong enough to resist her. This was years of hopeless pining in the making and it was worth it.

Minutes passed and the heat between them calmed. Gentile touches and sweet broken kisses remained. Smiles seemingly permanently etched to their faces. George pushed back from her, only slightly. Enough to see her face.

“Hey” he spoke softly. And she echoed, "Hey."

“How you doin’?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

She groaned, shoving his shoulder and sitting up. “Unbelievable.”

“Youuu love it!”

And she did. She really, really did.

They sat there for a moment, both of them hovering on the edge of something more.

Y/n sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

She bit her lip. “Fine. George… will you go out with me?”

George grinned, leaning back on his hands. “Oh, I dunno, I’m a very busy guy. Gotta schedule to keep you know. School, Quidditch, my daily attempts to ruin your life... and it's just so sudden! We barely know each other...”

She smacked his arm. He caught her hand before she could pull it away, holding it to his chest.

“Yeah,” he said finally, quieter this time. His free hand sweeping a stray hair from her face. “Yeah, I will.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

For once, perfection wasn’t something she had to chase. With George, it had already found her.

[sunnie-angel]

Part 8: The New Normal

part 7 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x fem!reader

summary: both you and jason struggle with defining your new normal in the wake of your changed friendship

tags: angst, mentions of offscreen violence

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k

a/n: with this chapter we officially cross 20k words (whoops). i dropped quite a few hints about future developments in this chapter, i wonder if you'll find them all.

Jason’s never felt so bitter about successfully achieving something. The taste of it curdles in his mouth, sour and heavy. He’d known that amputating his heart would hurt but this? This was worse. It was bloodless and toothless and the worst thing he’s ever done to himself. To you. You’re friends now. Friends! No lasting repercussions to having what he wanted. Shockingly, no lasting repercussions for fucking up his secret identity either. He’s gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? 

He’d known, in that half-abstract kind of way that Talia had taught him, that if he had been earnest enough and insistent enough on the idea of friendship he’d be able to end the conversation there. No questions about why he had kissed you a second time. No scathing comments about how desperate he had been to know what you tasted like. He wouldn’t have to explain himself, or all of his messy inconvenient feelings, to you. Friends. Easy as that. 

Or at least that’s what he tells himself, walking in to face you. He’d know your footsteps anywhere and the just sound of them sets his senses on edge. All of his focus narrows down to you, hyperawareness kicking in. Jason doesn’t take any notes in class, can barely hear the sound of the professor speaking over you fidgeting next to him. To think his biggest worry a few months back had been if he would pass his courses. He can’t shake this fog, but he’s terrified of letting on just how gone he already is. Leaves a respectful three inches of space between the two of you through lunch that he obsessively maintains through Will telling some story about actually getting hit by a car over the weekend that Jason could care less about. He doesn’t breathe fully until the two of you are walking out of your last joined class of the day, cold air burning with every breath. He can do this.

“Can I– may I walk you home?” he asks uncertainly.

“Oh so you finally ask permission, huh?” you tease, and it’s the first thing he’s heard properly all day. Maybe it comes out sharper edged than he’s used to you directing at him, but it’s so close to resembling the easy camaraderie of the early days that he will take it.

“I was actually listening to your lecture on privacy,” Jason somehow finds the strength to sass back. 

“You can take the bus with me and walk me to my building door but that’s it. I already talked to the super about changing the door code.” Jason knows. He watched the super change it yesterday. 

“Just to the building. Scouts honour,” he says, drawing an x over his heart. 

When it comes to normal, Jason Todd sucks at pretending to be it. Or maybe you’ve just learned to read him too well. A space – not just literal but physical – exists between you now. He doesn’t sit right anymore, shoulders tensing up when you sit down next to him an only relaxing when you make no move to lean into him. He walks a full foot away now, no more arms accidentally brushing. He still keeps you fed – let it never be said that a friend of Jason’s goes hungry – but your fingers never brush as he hands containers over. Messages dwindle, text threads drying up. You can bear all of that, you can. It’s almost like the distant but friendly relationship you have with Will or half of your fellow interns. No, it’s the part where almost a week later, Jason still won’t look you in the eye. 

It would be so easy to dismiss everything else as growing pains, the both of you testing and reassessing where the new lines have been drawn. This isn’t that. Jason has drawn a line and it’s one that feels like a cut every time you brush up against it. These days there’s a tension in your jaw that you didn’t carry  before. Magically it appears whenever Jason chooses a particularly interesting patch of paint on the wall behind you to stare at instead of meeting your gaze. You think you hide the way your hands clench in your lap pretty well. You laugh and joke, exclaiming over Lina’s one liners, asking Rei about his next swim meet, and gasping in all the right places over Will’s sprained wrist. Keeping up the appearance of normalcy is tiring in a way that it hadn’t been before.  So your smiles are a little more forced than they were before, so what? The two of you are still friends and no one else is any wiser. 

There’s a Rogue attack, close enough to campus that it goes into lock down for the first time this semester. One second you’re following Jason’s broad back cutting a swathe through the frightened crowd of students to the muster location and then suddenly he’s gone. It doesn’t matter how quickly you crank your head to the side, he’s just vanished. Again. You spend the whole two hours huddled up in the auditorium glued to your phone as you watch the Red Hood fight Black Mask over a shitty news helicopter live stream. You’ve lived in Gotham your whole life, have practically become numb to the sirens and the drills for the worst that the city has to offer, but not today. Today your heart is in your mouth as you watch Jason take a blow to the head and go reeling across your phone screen. Breathing shakily, you realize that if he were to die – now – you’d never get to tell him just how fully he’s made a home for himself in your life, in your chest.

Obligingly, Jason doesn’t die today. Instead he pops up in the auditorium just as the all clear to evacuate has been sounded, ruefully explaining the mark on his cheek to your friends as the result of a panicking freshman’s fist. He’s a good liar you notice, through the hazy adrenaline rush of he’s alive, he’s alive pounding through your skull. 

Later that night lying in bed, you stretch your hand up, observing the way the light from passing cars cuts across your palm. You should probably do something about the shutters that don’t close right onto the fire escape but there’s always a thousand other things clamouring for attention. Besides, on nights like this when your thoughts turn in on themselves and sleep is a distant memory, the glow of the world outside provides a kind of comfort to you. No matter how bad things seem, life rumbles ever onwards. So what if every time you struggle with the keys to the front door it’s because you get lost in the memory of the one bright moment when it seemed like you could finally keep Jason? He’s not here now. The sheets have been washed – twice – but sometimes in that hazy place between sleeping and waking you swear you can still smell him. You think about the last time Jason had smiled at you, real and true and so sweetly uncomplicated. Your hand balls up into a fist and you cradle it to your chest. Maybe you suck at pretending everything is normal too.  

You must, because two weeks later, Danika corners you at one of your Wednesday study sessions. The student union is busy, tables full of students finally starting to realize exams are fast approaching with all the unwavering care of a freight train. 

“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?” she asks, just as you’re getting up.

“D’you mind if we talk and walk? I’m dying for caffeine and my stamp card says the next cup is free at The Grind,” you reply distractedly, digging your wallet out of your bag. 

“Oh you know I’m always down for a little snack,” she says, but there’s a note to her intonation that you can’t parse. 

The line for the coffee shop is long, but moving fast. You don’t notice anything off until you look up from struggling to extricate your membership card from your wallet, soft card stock folding under you nails. Danika is tugging at her hair as she stands next to you, twirling the strands tight around her finger until the circulation cuts off, the way she only does when she’s nervous and building up to something. 

She takes a deep breath and asks, “Are you and Jason, like, okay?” ripping the bandaid off.  

“I– why would you ask me that?” you deflect, scrambling to figure out where, exactly, your performance had faltered. The line surges forward, carrying the two of you along with it.

“Just, the last week or so something’s been off between you two. You know how you’re so obviously his favourite and he forgets the meaning of ‘personal space’ but only around you and he’s always–”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you struggle to cut her off. “It can’t be that bad, he’s good friends with all of us.”

“I’m pretty sure that whenever you start speaking the rest of us turn invisible or something,” Danika says wryly. “But the last week or so the vibes have just been off. He’s even less talkative than usual and I have been this–” she pinches her fingers together, pink nails catching the light “–close to recommending you a better concealer. So did you guys fight or something? Because you can tell me, you know.” She looks at you with wide, earnest eyes. “Because it doesn’t matter what it’s about, I’m on your side. If you wanna drop him as a friend, we’ll all do it no questions asked.”

“No, we uh, we didn’t fight but hold that thought okay?” you reassure her, before hurrying through your order as quickly as you can. Danika’s already standing by the pickup counter, finger still twisting in her hair.

“Or like, if you need a body buried the two of us could definitely take him,” she offers.

“We didn’t fight, okay? I’m serious. And while I’m happy that you’d hide a body for me, it’s really, honestly, not necessary. Me and Jason are fine,” you reassure her. The high neck of your sweater feels too tight.

“Alright so we don’t go all Gone Girl on him but whatever happened hurt you and I don’t like it when my best friend is hurting. Whatever it is I’m not gonna tell anyone, not if you don’t want me to,” she says, suddenly turning earnest again. 

“Jesus, it was nothing okay? It’s just, do you remember that night we all went out after Thanksgiving?” you offer up.

“The night where we were all taking bets on if Jason would make a move before or after the club?” she chimes in. 

“You were what?!” you hiss, heart stuttering and palms suddenly damp. 

“I’m kidding! Kidding!” she says with a laugh. “Sorry, you were just getting so wound up, I wanted to bring the mood up a bit. We didn’t actually bet on it. We did talk about though, before you both got there.”

You bite your lips, weigh up how much truth you want to tell. The barista calls out your order and you’re thankful for the extra moment to gather yourself.

“I was drunk and I tried to kiss him, okay?” She gasps. “And then he shut that shit down. He made it really, really clear that we were only ever gonna be friends,” you finish, gulping down your tea to cover for your embarrassment and immediately burning your tongue. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s close enough without having to debride the festering wound you still haven’t made peace with. 

“Wait you’re sure that’s what he said? Absolutely no chance of anything?” Danika seems stunned. “I could swear there’s no way whatever you two have going on is platonic.” 

“Kinda hard to misinterpret the whole ‘that was a bad idea let’s just stay friends speech’. I wasn’t drunk enough to forget that.” You study your drink with false interest. 

“Oh. Oh I’m sorry,” she says, the kind of soft that she almost never is. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t realising exactly what he’s missing out on.” Danika reaches out and rubs your shoulder. “We’ll find you someone else that’s way, way hotter and makes better life choices. Until then, he’s on thin fucking ice.”

“This is all my shit, yeah? Leave him be, we’ll figure it out and this’ll all blow over,” you warn her. There’s a certainty to your words that you definitely don’t feel. But Jason shouldn’t be punished for the crime of not returning your affection and so you’ll just have to learn how to fake normalcy better. “Plenty of more fish in the sea or whatever. I’ll get over him.”

“Fine, but I’m gonna trust you to tell me if you don’t,” she says, linking your arm through hers. The two of you head back to the group, weaving your way through outstretched legs and scattered bags littering the space between tables. There’s a kind of comfort in having your charade seen through by someone that cares enough to ask. It won’t do in the long run, but this stutter step with Jason won’t last forever. 

“Hey you’re still living in the Alley right?” Danika asks offhandedly, sliding back into the booth.

“Haven’t moved since first year, Dani.”

“Just be careful, then, okay? I saw on the news that there’s been more muggings in that area.” 

You almost choke on your tea. “Yeah okay, I’ll avoid any muggers,” you croak. Jason’s eyes burn a hole into the side of your head.

part 9

[s-4pphics]

dial. 4 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 5.5K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst, SMUT MDNI!!!!!, finger sucking!!!, voyeurism, dirty talk, lil assplay, squirting, spit, a lil breeding kink, sextape, masturbation, more porn mentions, bussing untouched, weed, dubcon bc alcohol, pov switches bc im experimenting :p

You returned to campus surprisingly high-spirited. 

You were arriving to class fifteen minutes early, color-coding your notes, smiling and laughing with your friends even more than you used to before shit hit the fan! It scared the shit out of all of them since the last time they saw you, snot was coming out of your nose while you sobbed your eyes out. 

Dina knocked on you and Niah’s front door the night before class with tears in her eyes, whimpering out about how terrible she felt and how she should’ve tried harder to steer you away from her best friend. Nothing was her fault; She did what anyone would, and you ignored it. She slept in your arms that night. 

When you joyfully volunteered to pay for you and Niah’s fancy dinner upon returning to campus, she grilled you, demanding to know where this change of heart came from. As if you weren’t screaming about how much you hated these hoes on FaceTime a couple of weeks ago. All you could do is shrug and laugh some more, confirming that everything would be fine. She seemed a bit skeptical when she peered at you over her glass of wine. 

Niah even volunteered to be angry with you. I’ll still beat her ass! I don’t care if you’re feeling better; I’m not! But you didn’t even want that. You developed a crush on somebody that’s a bad person, who just so happened to have amazing dick! Shit happens, and you’re over it. Sort of. 

You still have something that you need to take care of before you close this chapter of your college career. And there’s only one person who’d be willing to help you out!

“… You want me to what.” 

Your feet tapped nervously on Abby’s hardwood floor as she gawked at you, her body lax on her couch as smoke left her mouth in a large, pale cloud. 

After Ellie exposed her and Abby’s history, you decided to pry. Abby seemed a bit confused at your eagerness to know about their relationship, but she provided some insight. They’re apparently not as close as you thought: they’ve been screwing on and off since freshman year after Abby’s partner cheated on her with someone dressed in a panda costume. What the fuck.

Abby is actually Riley’s best friend, who’s also Ellie and Dina’s really good friend whose also friends with someone named Kayla and your brain is fucking fried and you’re not even high! You don’t know any of these people!

Since when did snooping become this fucking confusing! 

Your hands fiddled nervously, “Um… well, I mean— “

“Listen,” she snickered. “You seem nice, like really fuckin’ nice, but I dunno about this. Ellie’n I aren’t… best friends or anything but—”

“I know it sounds fucking crazy! I know!” Your arms flailed, “This is really outta character for me, but… she…” 

Tears immediately jerked in your eyes as you recalled Ellie’s harsh words. This is the first time you’ve cried since you’ve been back, “She really hurt my fucking feelings. Don’t tell anyone I told you that, by the way! I just wanna…” 

“Use me to get her back?” Abby concluded, leaning over to ash her joint. 

You pouted, “… You make it sound so awful— “

“Well, I mean,” she snorted, offering you the remainder of the joint. You took it gratefully. 

You spoke around your toke, “I dunno what else to do. I don’t know anything about her. The only time I saw her slightly out of character was at the fucking party!”

Abby hummed as she listened when you exhaled. She didn’t seem… entirely off put by your suggestion, but she hasn’t said much this entire conversation. She probably thought you came here for another reason based on her appearance. Ellie and Abby were surprisingly alike. They loved themselves some fucking grey sweatpants!

Moments of silence passed as she stared at the floor with her lip between her teeth, and you knew it was over. She was thinking of a way to kick you out politely. Not only was your one chance at karma destroyed, but you might’ve cost yourself a potential friendship with Abby! You’re bound to be walking out of here without the dignity you attempted to salvage in the next five seconds. Is it hot in here or is the bud getting to you quicker than expected—

“Run the plan by me one more time?” 

You looked up at her, meeting the mischievous glint in her eyes. You choked on your last puff of the blunt and your brows raised in shock. Her index finger tapped on the back of the couch while you went through the run-down for the weekend. 

She still hasn't said anything after your second explanation, and your body flushed hot in mortification. You threw in the towel with a heavy sigh.

“Abby, I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “I shouldn’t have thrown this on you. Apparently, I’m not good with strangers, either!” 

You tried to mask your incoming breakdown with an awkward chuckle as you stood to leave, “Um… yeah. I’m sorry— “

“Alright.” 

Your heart jerked in your chest.

“I’ll do it.” 

“R-Really?” 

“Mhm. Ellie never discounted when I picked up, anyway,” she spoke around her bite of a peach ring.  

You leaped from the longue chair to the couch, squealing out thank you’s and throwing your arms around her neck. You felt her hand squeeze the plush on your hip, and you shuddered above her. 

She grinned like a Cheshire and offered you her pinky. 

“Our little secret?” 

You smiled like a fox and laced yours with hers. 

You don’t know when or how your balls dropped, but they were dangling and fucking huge. 

Did you purposefully wear your Sunday best to the Starbucks that Ellie works at? Yes! Were your titties freezing on the way over here from the cut in your sweater dress? Abso—fucking—lutely! You received so many compliments from your peers during your sociology course, though! 

Your heeled boots clanked on the tile with every step you took in the fast-paced line. You hoped Ellie could see you from the register!

It only took two minutes for you to be standing in front of the service counter, finally face-to-face with the first person you’ve ever plotted on. 

“Morning…” you gazed down at her nametag, “Ellie.” 

“… Mornin’,” Her eyes shifted, “Chai latte, extra mi—? “

You ignored the fluttering of your heart as she recited your order. 

“Actually,” your tone was honey-sweet and your smile stretched across your cheeks, “I’d like a Java Chip Frap. Extra chocolate syrup… aaand…” 

You pretended to study the menu board behind her, “A pack of Madeleines!”

She swallowed at the mention of her favorite munchie. You recall catching glimpses of her sneaking some into her pocket before her shift ended every other day. 

She cleared her throat and stared at the screen in front of her, “Anything else?” 

“No, that’s all!” 

You scanned your student card while she wrote your name on your cup. You threw the most darling, pageant-ready have an amazing day, Ellie you could muster over your shoulder. You didn’t bother to wait for her reply before strolling to the pick-up line with a newfound pep in your step. 

That was the best cold drink you’ve ever had!

Saturday came like a freight train. Today was the day. 

Today was the fucking day! 

You were absolutely terrified; You woke up with anxiety pooled in your gut, your mind racing with hundreds of questions. 

What if something bad happens and all this plotting was for naught? What if Abby doesn’t show tonight? What if Ellie chose to just not attend the soccer house party for once? All this pent-up aggression inside you would never get released. 

You rolled your black back seam stockings while Niah curled her hair. 

“Is there a reason we're doing all this extra shit for a stingy party?” Niah asked as she removed her elastic band. 

The second you returned home from Starbucks, you dragged Niah from her bed and into the mall. This would count as your monthly splurge (auntie slid you a few extra coins)! It was vital that you looked as sexy as possible, even if it meant putting a dent in your allowance. 

“Can I not do the most for once?” Your brow arched, twiddling your fingers like an evil villain. 

“You always do the fucking most,” Niah stared blankly as she curled her ends. You giggled and skipped over to where she sat at her desk. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You cheesed. 

She rolled her eyes, “Get out my face with that gay shit, bruh— “

“I wanna kiss!”

“I dunno why you’re so excited. You know damn well that girl is gonna be there.” 

Your smile widened. She looked up at your silence with a glare, her sharp liner slicing through you as she studied your face. 

“Did y’all fucking make up?” 

“Not at all,” you hummed. 

She didn’t let up, her eyes squinting at you before they doubled in size. 

“Oh my god…” 

“What.” 

“YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEBODY ELSE!” She sprung out of her desk seat, almost dropping her curling iron. “No wonder you’ve been acting so fucking weird— “

“What’s weird about being happ— “

She squealed in excitement, “Shut up! Who is it! Who’s tearing them organs up— “ 

“NIAH! Nobody’s tearing anythi— “

“CALL FROM: ABBY SMILING FACE WITH HEARTS SMILING FACE— “

Siri, followed by your ringtone, blared through your speaker. 

Niah slowly peered over at your desk before looking back at you.

“… And who the fuck is Abby?” 

By the look in her eye, she must’ve already known. 

Oh fuck. 

“U-Uh— “

Niah sprinted towards your desk before you could stop her, snatching your device and answering despite your anxious protests and grabs for it. 

“Yes, hello. Are you smashing my— “

“NIAH! STOP!” You were able to wrangle your phone out of Niah’s grasp, speaking over her shouts of just two whores fornicating!

You could hear Abby snickering, “So much for a secret.” 

“I’m sorry! I can't beat her intuition. Or Siri!”

“You’re cute,” Her voice was like butter, “Just checkin’ to see if we’re still on.” 

Whores! Whores, I tell you! Boutta sweat my wig off! Niah hollered, finally resigning and leaning against your desk. 

“Yeah, we are. Unless you don’t wanna— “

“Shut it. I want to.” 

A shudder wracked through you at the drawl of her tone. Niah shook her head, and you bucked at her with a threatening stare. 

“Okay. I’ll see you soon?” 

“See you soon.” 

The two of you gently farewelled and hung up. You turned to see Niah shamefully shaking her head at you. 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit in my lifetime,” she started, “I’ve never, in all my years, seen anyone fuck their side piece’s side piece.” 

… Were you really the only one who didn’t know that Ellie and Abby canoodled? 

Your eyes rolled, “You’re so fucking dramatic.” 

She reached behind her and grabbed two nips of 1800, tossing one in your direction, almost cracking you in the face with the plastic bottle. 

“You’re gonna need that shit. Harlot.” 

The soccer house was on one; They knew how to fucking throw a not-Christmas party! 

You prayed with every fiber of your drunk being that the feds wouldn’t show up as you threw it back on Niah as Dina grabbed your titties. Tequila’s the devil and coaxes sluttery! 

Drake always sounds more talented when you’re fucked up. Good on him! 

Eyes were burning through your body and you showed out for them. 

Until you felt your phone vibrate in your fucking bra you can’t have shit in this house! —

You irritatingly pulled it out of your bra, leaning on Dina’s shoulder to read your message from… Abby, oh fuck fuck fuck—

You smirked and searched the dark room for your new pretty friend. A moan almost left your throat when you saw her standing by the counter packed with liquor… in a muscle tee that read DO MILFS, NOT DRUGS. And a lollipop stick in her mouth. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion when you locked eyes with Abby. She nodded behind you with a grin. 

You peered over your shoulder and instantly regretted it. 

Ellie was standing against the wall in a flannel and beanie, yet another girl pressed up against her while she smoked. And stared at you. Stared hard at you. Were those the eyes you felt seconds ago? Pride exploded in your chest at the thought. 

… But how long has she fucking been standing there, and why didn’t you fucking notice? You’re never touching Tequila again! 

You shot another text to Abby before shutting your phone off, watching her squeeze through the crowd to get over to your little group. 

“Okay, baby?” Dina shouted in your ear over the music as she rubbed your back. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the blonde girl. 

Abby popped up behind Dina, tapping her shoulder to greet the girl that was propping you up. Abby whispered something to her, and Dina’s grip loosened around your waist. You smiled when Abby presented in front of you, throwing your arms around her neck to keep yourself steady. 

You barely heard Niah’s shouts of whore alert before Abby leaned down to connect your lips. The shots she had mixed with her cherry-flavored chapstick and apple lollipop as her mouth caressed yours, calls of oh shit from partygoers around you drowning your head. The attention made you kiss her deeper, your tongue easing into her mouth as people hooted around you. 

Abby’s strong arms wrapped around your waist to hold you to her strong chest, her sneaky hands crawling down to grab your ass through your dress. You moaned into the kiss, lacing your fingers through her curled locks. 

She tightened her hold on your hips and spun you, a thin line of drool connecting your lips before your back met her chest. You held onto a shocked Dina’s hips while you threw it on Abby, your back arched while she thrusted into your ass. 

Niah, ever the sweetheart, slapped it encouragingly, your hips pushing further onto Abby until she grabbed your shoulder and hauled you back up, her large arm enclosing around your throat. You felt her messily kissing your neck and up your ear, and your eyes fluttered open. 

Don’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllie—

You did everything in your power to ignore her harsh stare, pulling Niah’s hips back on yours, exposing more space on your neck for Abby to suck, anything anything anything! Don’t fucking look at her!

“Ready?” Abby shouted in your ear. 

Thank god for Abby; You were this close to looking at her. 

You nodded, and she whisked you upstairs after you blew your friends' kisses. 

Why the fuck was Ellie fuming in this dark corner? 

Not only did you blow the fuck out of her high, but you decided to do it with someone she considered a… she doesn’t fucking know. Someone close enough for it to feel like a betrayal!

And you looked so fucking sexy in the act. 

The person chewing on her neck must think that the squirms she’s trying to cover are because of them. They weren’t, not when you’re around dancing like money is getting thrown all over you. 

How did you manage to get her so fucking horny with absolutely no interaction? You looked at her once since you’ve arrived. She could bet every cent in her bank account that you’re a witch! The sluttiest, sex-obsessed witch with good pussy. Not to mention, you’re so fucking sweet. 

Well, you used to be.

Ellie’s never seen this wild side of you. You’re always structured and organized and sweet like fucking honey. Somebody will get a cavity if they get too close to you. She can attest. 

All she could do was watch you and Abby trek upstairs with interlocked hands, something nasty stabbing in her gut at the sight. She knows she’s a hypocrite. A disgusting, vile hypocrite with the audacity to feel negatively about you seeing someone else. She’s fucked up and she’s horny and she wants you. Fuck, you have such good pussy. 

And the prettiest brown eyes. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck—

She hasn’t seen eyes that gorgeous since she fucking moved away for school. Since the last time she saw her. 

Seconds, minutes, it felt like hours went by as she replayed every interaction the two of you have had since you met. Sex, sex, sex, you trying to get closer, her getting upset at you trying, sex. More good— great sex. You're pulling the leash you have on her with your cunt, for fucks sake. 

She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing off to the side, but the person that fucked up her neck disappeared. Probably took too long to fucking react because she’s too busy thinking about how tight your cunt chokes her dick. 

What the fuck were you and Abby doing? Ellie knows she’s a fucking hypocrite. 

She pulls her device out of her pocket to ease her stress, but her stomach plummets when she sees a message from Abby. 

Ellie’s such a fucking, goddamn hypocrite. 

She forces herself through the crowd and scurries up the stairs like the floors on fire, ducking and dodging drunk students that were in her path until she stood at the top of the steps.

She instantly hears you over the booming bass. A choked scoff leaves her before anything, your pleased cries ringing through her eardrums like a church bell, and she almost loses it in the middle of the hallway. She’s getting so wet and your moans are getting higher in pitch and she knows you're about to cum. Why’s she out of breath and pissed and drenched to hell?

The door’s right there. 

She takes a couple steps until she’s facing it, her hand resting on the knob. You always asked her to keep all entries open when she fucked you outside. You’re just as gross as she is. 

One twist and it’s over. 

She’s such a fucking hypocrite. 

Whoever owns this bed is going to need a new mattress. You’ve never been this wet in your life. 

Is it gross that staring into Ellie’s shocked, glossy eyes are making your pussy squeeze down on Abby’s dick? Even after all the bullshit she’s done, she still makes you drip like a faucet. Shame on you and your cunt. 

S—it down, you whimpered, and Abby chuckled. 

Abby’s harsh thrusts slowed when you cracked out your command, a harsh slap landing on your ass, and the arch in your back deepened. Ellie exhaled a harsh breath and shut the door behind her, her body falling against the wood due to her wobbling legs. The more you inspected her bruised chest, the angrier you became. Who was she trying to fuck now? A nasty smile grew on your face at the sight of her in complete disbelief. 

Abby pulled out until just the tip was inside before slamming her entire length back into you, your jaw slackening when an oh, fuck escape you and Ellie. You hardly recognized your own voice. 

Her eyes left yours and stared behind you, your core squeezing when her fists clenched at her sides and eyes darkened. 

S-Sit down. Be a good girl’n sit d-down, you whimpered, your walls squeezing on the silicone. 

She looked down at you again, her cheeks tinting a darker shade of red whenever you addressed her. Your glare hardened when she didn’t listen, and her body cowered, eyes sparkling before pushing herself off the wall and onto the small lounge chair at the front of the room so she was facing you. 

Ellie’s hands were fiddling in her lap as she took the scene of you: liner and glitter running down your cheeks in a heap of tears, bruised neck and tits pressed against her friend’s ruffled sheets, your ass bruised to hell. She could see your slick and cum glistening on Abby’s cock under the dim lamp of the room. Her boxers were a mess. 

Such a sexy little pornstar, isn’t she, El?

Ellie wanted to cry when you and Abby laughed lightly. This is the first time she’s been speechless when it came to anything related to fucking. She loves sex, but she’s always, always, in control no matter what. The lack of ability she had over the situation made her throat dry and clit throb. She’d never admit it, though. 

W-Wanted t’make me a pornstar so bad? You spat shakily. You’re gonna sit there’n record Abby f-fucking me. 

Ellie’s breathing increased at the demand. You always looked so fucking sexy on camera. A natural vixen, you are. She’s never been this wet. Fuck, fuck, please—

Take your phone out, El, Abby encouraged with a sly smirk, You know how wet this pussy gets on cam. 

Ellie’s body didn’t feel like hers, like her soul was floating above her physical form. She heard the soft platplatplat of your ass clapping on Abby’s hips before she realized the two of you were fucking again, your loud cries chiming through the spacious area. Your pussy sounded so fucking wet. 

Atta fuckin’ girl, tha’s my girl, c’mon, Abby groaned while she watched your cunt milk her dick. She would give anything to cum in you. See her cum flow out of you like water. Breed you fucking full. 

She couldn’t take her eyes away from your ass. The movement of it was hypnotizing and it was bruising beautifully. She almost retrieved her own phone from her jean pocket to take a picture for herself. Almost. 

Ellie’s arm moved on autopilot, her fingers digging in her pocket for her device. You caught a glimpse of the flashlight she accidentally turned on in your haze, and smiled, fucking back onto Abby to meet her thrusts. You kept your eyes on Ellie as she held her phone up, the quiet blip indicating that she was recording. 

Your eyes flickered from Ellie’s heaving chest to the two small lenses in the corner of her phone, your back arching deeper so that she could get a good look at your ass rippling from each thrust. Your nails dug into the duvet every time Abby brushed against your cervix, her dick plunging into your squishy cunt. 

S-She’s fucking me s’good, Ellie, fuuuck—

Your babbles were sloppy and nearly intelligible, mumbled together in a fast, wet muss of your tongue. You couldn’t think about anything except Abby’s dick and Ellie’s fucking camera. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back every time your eyes passed over the lens. Ellie was right; Maybe you were meant for porn. 

Ellie… ugh, shit! C’merecomehere—

Ellie looked like a newborn deer trying to walk when she got up and stood directly in front of your sweaty, fucked out form. Her camera was right in front of your face, and a hazy, drooly smile made its way onto your face. You could feel your impending orgasm sizzling all the way down to your toes. 

M’gonna squirt, fuck, thinkI’mgonnasquirt!—

Both girls moaned aloud at your squealed warning, Ellie’s thighs squeezing right in front of your face. Her hands were shaking around her phone and… her fucking hands are so sexy—

Your pussy was in agreement; The squelching sounds of your wet walls got louder with your moans, your screams flying off the walls with Abby’s, your eyes glued on Ellie’s long fucking fingers and the veins in her hands—

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and licked over all four of the digits clenched over her device. She squealed in shock but you didn’t care, pulling away with your tongue out like a dog, eyes begging for her to fuck your throat with them. 

Ellie held her phone with her dominant hand and dragged two wet fingers over the flat of your tongue, angling her phone so that the way your throat closed around them was captured. Ellie was whimpering to herself and desperate to fucking cum. Was she crazy or was she about to nut from you gagging and drooling all over your hand? She’s crazy; She has to be fucking crazy—

Her walls were squeezing so hard in her jeans; She might actually fucking cum. She’s a goner, fuck fuck fuck—

Milk her fingers like you're milking this dick, baby, that’s it, Abby moaned out before releasing a line of drool on your ass and rubbing it in with her thumb. You choked around Ellie’s thrusting fingers, eyes crossing in your head while your pussy cried. And squeezed so hard, Abby almost couldn’t move. You felt your juices leave you in a light spray as Abby announced her orgasm, squealing about how swollen you’re going to be with her cum. You’re cumming, you’re cumming so fucking hard—

Your head dropped onto the edge of the mattress, Ellie’s spit coated fingers ripping from your mouth and you screamed, your cum drenching the bed and Abby’s dick and waist, your clit jumping with every pulse of your walls. You couldn’t keep yourself upright any longer, falling completely flat onto the bed as your body thrashed from pleasure you could hardly bear. Abby’s body laid flat on top of yours so she could force her dick deeper into you, fuck more cum out of you and milk the last bit of her orgasm.

You sobbed from the intensity, but Abby didn’t stop until your hand flew back to push her off you. She planted one wet kiss on the back of your neck before gently pulling out. Your thighs were still shaking and your clit was twitchy, but you felt so good. 

And so much better. 

It took a minute for your teary eyes to peel open. Ellie was crouched down on the floor with her knees to her chest, heavy breaths and light whines leaving her mouth while her lashes fluttered. 

Abby chuckled behind you, landing one playful smack on your ass before leaning over your form to whisper in your ear. 

Think she came when you did, She snickered.

A breathy giggle left you. Ellie couldn’t meet your eyes, hers glued to the hardwood. 

Your auntie was right; Maybe revenge was the way to go. 

You shut the bathroom door and made your way back to the bedroom, where a dazed Ellie was sitting on the bed. 

Abby left with a see you soon and a kiss on the cheek, leaving you and Ellie alone to suffocate in silence. She looked lost in thought as her finger tapped on her thigh, her teeth digging into the dry skin of her lip. You breathed heavily before walking to tower over her. 

“I want you to send me the video,” you spoke stoically, nothing bothering to wait for her to speak.

She nervously met your eyes for the first time since you orgasmed, eyes glossy like a puppy getting scolded, before grabbing her phone from where she tossed it on the bed. She shakily tapped a few times before your device vibrated in your hand. 

“Now delete it. Delete everything. Every video, every Snap. All of it,” your voice was sharper than a blade. 

You loomed over her as she scrolled through all of your memories together, your cheeks warming at the sound of your moans and cries of her name, watching closely as she trashed all the footage of the two of you fucking since you met. 

Whenever you were confident that no evidence remained, you ensured she would never hit your line again. 

“Block me, Ellie. On everything.”

She exhaled shakily before doing so on every platform and line of communication. You spun on your heel when she finished without another word, heart heavy, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you to retreat back to the lively environment downstairs. 

You deleted Ellie’s contact information when you reached the bottom of the steps. 

Ellie was absolutely distraught. And the horniest she’s ever been in her fucking life. 

She refused to move from her spot on the bed until a couple shoved into her friend’s room, eager to rip each other’s clothes off. She had too little and enough sex for tonight. She cringed when she got up and felt her cum squishing in her boxers. 

… She can’t believe she busted from just your tongue on her hand like a fucking loser. 

She didn’t bother to wait for Jesse and the rest of the soccer team like normal, opting to walk home and regain some peace of mind. The cold shocked her body when she stepped outside of the packed house, the melting ice crunching under her sneakers. 

Much to her dismay, she thought about you the entire stroll. Her mind raced, flooding with images of you getting absolutely destroyed by Abby. And looking up at her while you sucked the life out of her fingers. And your sparkly fucking eyes whenever you laughed at something stupid and unfunny she said. 

She fucked up, she fucked up so bad. 

Anxiety was stirring in her gut all the way up to her and Jesse’s apartment. 

Ellie hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at her when everyone returned to campus, but she felt vicious, unfiltered rage radiating off your body when you loomed over her. The disappointment she was so used to seeing after turning you down was replaced by disdain, and it made bile rise in her throat. Your composure used to impress her, but now she was terrified of it. 

You actually fucking hated her. 

Dina mentioned how she might’ve awakened something that you tried to keep hidden, but she didn’t care enough to listen. 

Ellie didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, but she did want to keep you at a distance. You were caught in a crossfire you never needed to be in, and she didn’t do enough to stop you from getting hit. 

She sees so much of her past in you. The moments of eagerness and joy and elation she felt in her younger years, it all crashed into her the second she stared into your eyes for too long. She almost saw roses blooming in them. She grew to despise your optimism very quickly. 

Ellie shoved her key so hard into their door she thought she bent it, ripping it open and slamming it shut. All her weight fell against the wall and she sighed. Her head was pounding and so was her clit. 

You’re so fucking hot. What the fuck. 

Her hands ran down her face in exasperation before she kicked her shoes off, unbuttoning and removing her jeans and soaked boxers. 

She slid down the door and squatted, her fingers instantly finding her twitching clit. She sighed at the sensation before dipping her digits lower, pushing past her entrance and collecting her juices to bring back to her rosy bud. She alternated between rubbing and fucking into herself, moaning into the dark space of the living room. 

She couldn’t unsee… you. Everything about you. Your scars, the dark hairs of your furrowed brows, your plump, wet lips slobbering all the way down her wrists. The deeper she reached, the hotter she became, her sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead. 

A-Abby, fuck me h-harder, please? 

Am I a good girl? M’your good girl?

M’so wet, oh god!

You fuck me t-the best! Yeah, yes yeah—

Your voice was the only thing ringing through her empty brain. Anyone would’ve been embarrassed, disgusted, traumatized by what you and Abby did. The two of you shattered her completely, breaking down every barrier she built for herself for so long. Distance was no longer her priority; She wanted to be in between the two of you so fucking bad. 

She was already so close, so close to tipping over, to wetting her fucking floor, all because of you. Fuck, she fucked up; Was it too late to tell her you were the best— one of the best she’s ever had? She has to protect her pride somehow, even if it’s pointless. 

She dug into her cunt harder, grinding her fingers into the spot that made her see stars, sent her to fucking heaven. Your name left her mouth in an almost manic cry, whimpering the syllables over and over again until she crashed, legs closing around her wrist when her pleasure shook her form. She shoved three unoccupied fingers into her mouth and swallowed around them, fucking her throat and her cunt at the same time, trying to replicate the feeling of your tongue on her again.

She almost cried when the sensation wasn’t the same. Nothing felt like your mouth, your tongue, and it sent a painful jolt in her heart. 

She came down and finally allowed her tears to fall, barely having the strength to ride out the last bits of her pleasure before she slumped onto the floor. Sobs escaped her in choked gasps. She’s a fucking idiot to be crying over you. Over the little twinkles in your eyes whenever you’re excited. 

Ellie’s a heartless, ungrateful hypocrite, and she ruined her billionth chance at redemption. 

ellie got bitched LMMMFAOOOOO

this is not a love triangle!!! or is it

jk its not lol

taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka @aouiaa @lastofvenus

teaser, one, two, three, five

[potchi-fics]

Sundo | part two of 8 ball

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

sundô. imagine being so tired from studying, from using your brain so much that you just feel like collapsing. but you remember that at the end of the day, someone's waiting-- waiting for you. a simple gesture yet it makes you feel so many things all at once: happiness, excitement, comfort... and wonder.

NOTE: sundo means to fetch someone from somewhere.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n leans back on the chair she has been sitting on for hours now. she checks her phone and she sees that it's 5:59 pm. she got too busy with academic work, she always wants to finish her projects as soon as possible because she doesn't like procrastinating.

she sighs through her nose, holding the bridge of her nose, she's so tired. even her ears hurt from the hours of wearing her headphones.

and of course, her friends are studying alongside with her... but they all fell asleep. thankfully, though, they got their work done.

"wake up," she gently shakes Aiki, who whined and shooed her away. she moved on to Monika who woke up with just a nudge. "Noze, it's almost time to go home."

"god," Noze cracks her back, "my whole body hurts. good thing we don't have any classes for two days."

"you're goddamn right about that. somebody wake Aiki up." Monika groans out in defeat.

Y/n tries again, "Aiks, c'mon, it's time to go home."

the three struggled to contain their laughter once they see Aiki's state: drool all over her cheek and table, and the thousand-yard stare.

"aw gross, wipe your face, Aiks." Noze hands her wet wipes.

Y/n struggled even more when Monika showed her the picture she took of Aiki when she woke her up. she looks like a toddler who just woke up.

"is it time to go home? what time is it?" Aiki groggily asks.

she was about to tell her when something caught her eye; a text message from Bada. it read:

"what time's ur dismissal?"

it was sent four minutes ago. she texts back:

"6:30, whyy?"

she didn't get to put down her phone because it buzzed. it's a reply from her:

"i'll come and fetch u. where r u?"

Y/n's weirdly excited about this? and also a tiny bit nervous? nevertheless, she replied:

"library with my friendsss."

and she waits. she can't even stay still, and the other notice it.

"jesus, can you stop with the pen clicking?" Monika complains.

Y/n mutters out a soft sorry.

Noze looks at her with a funny expression, "who were you texting?"

a beat passes before she says Bada's name.

the trio have their what-the-hell faces on. before she could defend herself, they already started teasing her relentlessly; saying things like she's excited to see Bada, or that they were gonna go on a date.

"guys," she starts, "it's not a date and why would i be nervous? it's Bada." she rolls her eyes. "i could squeeze that punk easily."

but she is nervous. she doesn't know why. is it because of what happened at that billiards place? why did she even do that in the first place.

time seems to really pass by because six-thirty comes and they start tidying their place. making silent conversation. they come out of the library and see someone squatted down.

it's her.

Y/n thinks-- god, she's so handsome and pretty, she's not even doing anything. she malfunctions because she did not just think that? that is so not Y/n coded of her, she adds.

her friend's loud voice caught their attention, "hey, Bada!"

"yo," Bada stands up, looking at Y/n. "are you guys done? can i steal her away from you now?"

Y/n could only roll her eyes, "what do you mean by steal me away? as if i would let myself be taken."

"so grumpy," Bada tease, "careful now, you look like that one angry bird."

"well, in that case, i'm a pretty angry bird." she retaliates.

her enemy pats her head, "sure, sure.. let's go. bye guys!"

the trio shakes their head, even walking, the two seems to fight. they witness how Bada tries to carry Y/n's things but she wouldn't let her. however, eventually, Y/n gives in and gives Bada her things.

bada opens her car door for Y/n, receiving a soft thank you from the girl. she puts the things in the backseat and finally enters the drivers seat.

"you hungry?" she asks.

Y/n nods, too tired to talk. she closes her eyes and feel the car start up, she assumes that Bada knows a place.

during the car ride, comfortable silence envelops the pair. it continues that way not until she feels a hand on her thigh. Y/n opens her eyes and her gaze fell on the hand that is on her thigh.

Bada couldn't resist-- she caresses her thigh, rubbing circles on it, even slightly moving it up. she notices that the girl's breath is uneven. she thinks about removing it when a hand stops her.

the tension, even before what happened at the pool table, got so much thicker. it's so thick that they feel like suffocating.

sadly, they arrive at the place they're gonna eat at.

"c'mon, we're here." Bada parks the car.

they both thought the same thing: pussy blocker.

they go in the restaurant and order, wherein Bada insists that she treats her. of course, Y/n tries to pay for her own food but Bada is stubborn gal.

they take a sit once they get their order and start eating. surprisingly, their conversation is easy-going.

"so, what made you fetch me today? missed me that much?" Y/n asks with her mouth full of food.

Bada chuckles at the cute sight, "you're delusional. i just wanted to annoy you."

"oh, trust me," she answers in a grumble, "you're annoying me so much."

"is that why we're enemies?" Bada cackles out. "'cus i'm annoying? you didn't find me annoying back in middle school, though."

yes. they're childhood friends- err, childhood enemies. they're one of those typical rivals where they grew up together. they just haven't told anyone, but not because they don't want to, but because it wasn't just brought up until now.

she pouts out, "i wouldn't say enemies.. but yeah."

a loud laughs emits from the person in front of her again, can't believe the reason.

"stop laughing," Y/n gigges, "it's not funny. i'm just glad i don't have any classes, i'm so tired. and hungry."

Bada watches her with a smile, even though the girl in front of her is stuffing her face with food-- Bada still thinks that she's beautiful.

"stop ogling at me, i know i'm pretty and all," she flutters her eyelashes at her, "are you falling in love with me?"

"you sound so stupid." this time, it was Bada's turn to roll her eyes. "say, you wanna come over to my house after this?"

Y/n makes a playful shock face, "oh my? and you say you're not falling in love with me? but yes."

Bada feels like she's on cloud nine. what is wrong with her?

they finish their meal and she checks the time. it's seven-forty. they exit the place and Y/n complains about being so bloated now. to which Bada teased her by saying that she's always bloated.

banter ensues, even all the way to Bada's house, they're still bickering like children.

time check: eight-twenty-three.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

should i make the next part smut? or continue with fluff

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

[onekindredspirit]

This photo is the last remaining evidence that I once stood before the mystic portal of the O.K. Corral. Everything else except memory has been taken with time, and so I deposit this remnant here in salt and light and code. The O.K. Corral was a crumbling, condemned 5 bedroom Victorian villa that featured in my life when I was young. I rented it with a friend for, initially, $40 per week. That price was later negotiated down to 'rent free'. Mr. Fox, our landlord, was seen only once more, and on that occasion he tried to sell the place to us for $10,000. The current market value is around $1.5 million ... but money isn't everything. The O.K. Corral was a 'Dude Ranch' and the definition of that is "... an all-inclusive immersive vacation that includes lodgings, meals, horseback riding, fishing and hiking and more." Okay, there was no horseback riding, fishing or hiking but there were other things going on ... and more. Interestingly, the word 'dude' has changed meaning over the last 140 years. Today 'dude' means something like 'bro' but back in the 1880's, when 'Dude Ranches' first began, it was slang for an urbanite. As I write, things continue to fall into place.

I had known my friend since I was 6 years old. I don't think I liked him much back then. He was an extrovert and pushy when getting the painting resources at school. I didn't sit with him anyway because I was a 'foreigner' and I had to sit next to the only other foreigner in the class, Elizabeth Federinko, a Ukrainian girl who couldn't speak English and drew horses all day. I think it was the horse drawing that eventually drove me crazy or maybe it was something else ... possibly bad blood. Anyway, I'll call my friend 'Bukowski'. By the time we were 20 years old I quite liked the guy. Sure there were other arenas of male competition but I found myself better equipped to deal with those. The cool thing about pushy people is that they make thing happen and 'Bukowski' was no exception. For example, he could cook. We had a litany of weirdos and 'freaks' pass through the O.K. Corral. A note to the sensitive - to be called a freak back then was the highest form of compliment in our subculture. It was all a little crazy and you would be disappointed in me if I told you about life at the O.K. Corral, so I won't. Let's talk about something else. One day 'Bukowski' decided to move to another region of New Zealand, some place warmer that would better suit a boho gentleman with alcohol thinned blood. I have rarely lived alone but for a week I did until one morning I was woken at 1am by someone sitting on the end of my bed and talking to me. I wasn't clear as to what she was saying but I wasn't at all concerned as this was probably 'normal' when you don't lock your doors. Realising I was now awake she turned on the light.

I didn't know her but I knew who she was. I'd seen her riding around the city on a Norton Commando motorcycle which had impressed me because of her small size and once she had smiled at me as we passed each other on a city street. I remember that smile, it was powerful enough to stop and turn me around. It was a beautiful smile. The following morning she returned with her possessions and we shared my bed. I feel I had been looking for this person most of my life but when you dream someone into your life there's a danger that the results may be "... reductive and diminutive and I think basically misogynistic ..." as the writer Zoe Kazan once said in an interview when discussing the 'Manic Pixie Dream Girl' trope. Clementine, in the movie 'The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' warns Joel - "Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours". One thing though, I was never quite sure if she was my projection or if I was, in fact, the projection of her own desires. But I'm comfortable with that. We lived together. She taught me a lot. I gave her love in return. 'Clementine' eventually moved to Australia, a place better suited to her large personality. Years later I was sitting having an espresso at Fidel's Cafe on Cuba Street when 'Clementine' walked past the large plate-glass window. I had only a glimpse of her face but from that brief moment I sensed that she was not happy and that her health was not good. I didn't get up and rush out to catch up with her. I didn't run after her seeking some meaningful reunion. I let her go ... and watched as she disappeared into the crowd. Sometime in the not too distant past I had discovered that the person I had been looking for all through my youth and into later life was myself. I let 'Clementine' go. But the night I wrote this I dreamed of 'Clementine' and it was a beautiful dream.

- One Kindred Spirit

[pocket-watcher]

Quick! Think of the least hypnotic thing and make a hypno fic about it! Go! First thing that comes to mind!

Aaaaaa uhhh cherry milkshake!

I don’t know why I said that. Is cherry even a flavour of milkshake? Probably. I don’t even drink milkshakes so how should I know.

Right! Here’s a hypnofic about cherry milkshakes, apparently! Enjoy 🍒

The class beauty had asked Enid Schwartz to tutor her.

If a God exits they’re laughing down at her.

Enid had been cornered. Like an injured pup, stalked and set upon by a grizzly.

“Hey! Enid, right?”

Bouncing box-colour blonde curls and a skirt illegally short, even for a university where there wasn’t exactly a strict dress code.

Enid couldn’t even muster a “yes” or a “that’s me” or a “Chelsea, we went to the same kindergarten, elementary, high school, and university and you still have to question if that’s my name or not?!”

She decided on a simple nod.

“Sweet! Your grades are like so good. I heard Dr. Channing saying you’re like top of the class?” Chelsea batted her eyelashes.

Why was everything she said with a sickly sweet lilt at the end, making everything a question? She was the one heard it? So why was she asking Enid to confirm?

Ugh. So annoying.

Enid once again pushed her glasses up her nose and nodded.

“You have to tutor me!” She giggled and bounced once more.

Enid was mesmerised by the way her whole body moved up and down.

Okay, maybe she was just mesmerised by Chelsea’s chest.

Enid must’ve nodded a third time without fully listening, for fear of being caught gawking at her classmate.

And that’s how she ended up waiting in the diner for Chelsea to show up for their “study date” (Chelsea’s words, not Enid’s).

Enid sat in the booth twiddling her thumbs, rearranging her notes, and checking the time.

Chelsea was 20 minutes late when she finally arrived, sliding effortlessly into the booth. Bubblegum tank top, sunglasses pushing her hair out of her eyes, and a bedazzled “C” necklace.

“Hey! So sorry I’m late. But I’m here now! Have you ordered yet?” She asked.

Enid shook her head, before realising she should probably get used to speaking to Chelsea sooner rather than later.

“…I wasn’t going to order anything…” she said quietly.

“Well that’s no fun!” She flagged down a waitress. “Yeah, can we get some fries to share and two cherry milkshakes? Thanks!”

Chelsea turned back to Enid.

“So… which chapters did you want to go over? Because I-“

“Oh, no, none of that yet! Let’s get to know each other first, silly! Like. How are you? How’s life with Enid?”

Life with Enid? Let’s see. She lived in a room smaller than most walk-in closets. She had exactly zero friends. She earned money tutoring and yet here she was sitting here about to tutor her classmate for free just because she experienced some gay panic.

“It’s… good. I’m good.”

The waitress returned with the milkshakes. “Fries are just coming.”

“Thanks!” Chelsea mixed hers with her straw. “So, any guys you like? Are they in our Psych class?!”

Enid, who had just been about to take a sip choked on air.

“Sorry, sorry… or girls…?” Chelsea lifted her straw out of the glass and licked the milkshake off of it. Snaking her tongue around it.

Enid gulped.

“Yeah! No, I mean. Err.. I’m not… dating… at the moment.” She stammered out.

Chelsea dipped her straw once more and proceeded to suck the excess milkshake off.

The sight was mesmerising.

“That sucks! But I get it. Dating can be like such a commitment, right?” Dip. Lick. Suck.

Down into the glass.

Back up again.

Into her mouth.

“Uh… yeah!”

Enid looked around, feigning to be looking for when the fries would arrive.

“I mean. I’m barely passing whilst single! I can’t imagine what would happen if I was, like, distracted.”

She gestured with her straw and milkshake dropped onto her chest.

She made a little squeak of surprise, and before Enid realised it, Chelsea was wiping it up with her fingers and licking them clean.

Enid stared into her milkshake to try and ignore what was happening.

“Hey, if we’re reviewing your notes I should probably like sit round there right? So it’s easier for you to show me?”

Before Enid could answer she was pinned in the corner once more.

No route of escape from the booth.

“I think I want to start with Chapter 3, is that okay?”

Chelsea asked the question with little awareness or care for the effect she had on Enid. Their arms brushing against each other. The smell of Chelsea’s perfume. The way she played with her milkshake.

“Chapter 3. Sure. Yep. Let me find it.” Enid focused on the book in front of her as if it were the only thing keeping her breathing.

“Ugh, Enid, you’re just so good for me! Helping me out like this. You’re the best! Always so nice. You’d be up for helping me throughout the rest of the semester, right?”

Dip. Lick. Suck.

“Uhh… sure, yeah. I could. I guess.” Enid blushed, still stuck staring between Chelsea’s half-empty milkshake and her own untouched one.

“Oh great! Thank you so much!” She put a hand on Enid’s thigh as she said this. But only for a split second.

“Here are your fries. Enjoy!” The waitress said, placing it down in-front of them.

Enid opened her book and began to explain the processes and case studies but every so often Chelsea would touch her thigh again. Lick her straw. Bite her lip. And suddenly Enid found her brain short-circuiting.

“So then you just… uh… you apply…”

Dip.

Lick.

Suck.

“Sorry! You seemed a little lost there. Let me see if I understand it.” She pointed to the book with the straw she had just cleaned. “So I look at this bit, and then, I like, apply that second case study you just went over?”

“…yep. That’s how you do it.”

“This is so great! Oops, looks like this place is closing soon. How about we finish this off back at my place yeah?”

Dip, lick, suck.

“…sure. Okay.”

“Great! Come on, we’re going to have so much fun!”

[qonphuceingey]

What does chatgpt and similars provide? Especially as a tool for easing our cognitive load.

I think it can provide a lot. It really depends what you’re trying to achieve with it. Let me explain how I’ve used it as a comp sci student to give you examples.

Firstly, when writing some code like a class to hold some data and adjust them in a programming language, it’s a very well known pattern. You write the class, the constructors, some getters and some setters. Even if I’m able to use inheritance and one big abstract class to get the gist for the main pattern, I’m still going to be essentially copy and pasting (but from my brain) a pretty decent chunk of code. However, since it’s so common, an AI knows it extremely well too. The AIs have been embedded into the IDEs (apps we code in) for a while now, so I can just write the start of the class and it will fill in these basics for me if I so desire. That’s a few minutes saved. Over the course of a long project, you could save massive amounts of time doing the boring easy bits! This applies to many parts of code, called boiler plate code. It frees you up to think about the actual interesting and complex parts of the code architecture and design.

Secondly, when doing exams. I do not get provided with mark schemes, just questions, so when revising and practising a paper, I have no idea whether what I’m writing is correct or not, assuming I’m not fully familiar with the module. Typically, the LLM isn’t fully familiar either. What I can do it write my answer to a question, feed the question to an AI to see what it says, and then pass it my answer and see what it says about that. We essentially both answer the question, swap answers, and critique the other, same way you might revise with a friend. This gives me a lot more depth and understanding than just hoping I’m right and moving on. I can then take the new information it’s giving and reject it if it seems wrong or compare it to my notes.

Thirdly, I find often I want to try to google something but I don’t know the exact words that will result in the correct response. For instance, let’s say I have a couple examples of a topic but I don’t know what topic they’re all collected under, and I want to find more. Perhaps this could be Haskell, Scala and Lisp programming languages. Googling them might give me information about them each, but if I ask chat gpt what they all share in common, it can tell me they are all functional programming languages, and then I can google that term and learn more about it. I don’t know if this example specifically would work or not, it’s more to give you the idea of what I mean by this.

There’s likely far more you can use it for too, but I feel like these are what I do most with it. I’d like to emphasise that I’m not using it to cut myself out of the loop and misunderstand what’s going on, but to help me with work that I could do anyway but slower. The same way I *could* manually go to a library and search for a source, but Googling it is way faster and easier and probably more accurate. Chatgpt is not more accurate and might not be easier, but it is faster. It’s a productivity improving tool.

[itisaterriblelove]

TYLER ISABELLA MCCLAIN. She was wearing some jeans that made her ass look perfect and an oversized hoodie that screamed she didn’t really care whether she looked hot or not. This girl was my walking wet dream—From the way she moved, to the sound of her voice, the shape of her body, the taste of her lips. Everything about her was coming up perfect and it was really throwing me off my game. 

Usually at this state in a relationship, I was finding those little imperfections that spoke to me about why being single was better. Which made me seem like a complete asshole, I fucking realize, but the truth was that I had never had a bad break-up in my entire life. So that had to count for something. 

Every single one of my exes was still my friend, at least on some level, and it wasn’t even weird. I sure as shit wasn’t spending my Friday nights with them, but hey, I wouldn’t duck and run if we ran into each other on the street either. 

Still, though, Tyler outclassed my exes by about a thousand miles. There was just something about her that left me a little bit breathless. And, yeah, okay, that worried the shit out of me. But I was trying to take it in stride.

I plopped down into the chair beside her and rested my elbows on the round table in front of us with a sigh. “Please tell me you come bearing Government notes?” I shot a pleading grin at her, then leaned over to drop a quick kiss on her lips. It was stupid—that kiss part—not because it was weird to kiss my girlfriend. But because I’d done it just to send a message, and I knew it.

Tyler had walked in to the tail-end of a dress rehearsal for the band, and there was some niggling cave-man part of me that wanted Dade and the other guys to know that Tyler was my girl. It became stupider once you knew that Dade was still in high-school and definitely not any competition for Tyler’s affection, and worse because everyone already knew we were dating. But I had seen the way that the drummer could sometimes look at her. And, hell, I couldn’t say I blamed him. But still.

I had never been the jealous, territorial type in my entire fucking life. For some reason being with Tyler was starting to bring it out in me.

Or maybe there was some merit to the idea that people got crazier as they aged. Who fucking knew.

“Like I would leave you stranded.” She shot a smile at me that practically made me feel lightheaded. Damn but this girl was beautiful.

Tyler pulled up her messenger bag and flipped it open, searching through for her notes. They were color-coded and easy to follow, which made understanding what the hell was going on a hundred times easier than the textbook.

“You’re my lifesaver! You know that, right?” I almost kissed her again, but I reigned in the urge at the last second. I really did need those damn Government notes. I’d skipped the lecture to make rehearsal, and I already wasn’t doing so hot in that class.

It was the only class that Tyler and I shared, because she was an underclassman and I was an underachiever. It was also how we’d met. I’d sat next to her—for obvious reasons—and she’d taken pity on me once she saw how much I seemed to hate it; after that we became study partners.

Okay, maybe I had ulterior motives from the beginning but she doesn’t have to know that. She really was helping me pass the class. And that was something I definitely needed if my parents were going to continue to float my ass through college and pay my rent for me.

I recognized I was living a spoiled kid’s dream life, and I embraced it for what it was. One day R!OT would have a record deal and I’d be a famous guitarist, living off of a tour bus, and seeing the world. Shit, every asshole who could strum a guitar in the world probably thought the exact same thing. But this band was the real deal and, honestly, it was only a matter of time with us. We all knew that.

A matter of time and my baby brother finishing his business degree so he could properly manage us. Adam was only about a year out from that goal and making it all happen, and then my life could really begin. I was counting down the days on my calendar.

Until then I planned to milk this college thing for all it was worth with my General Education major and my mediocre grades. I was only mildly fucking ashamed of this, and only sometimes. Every other day of the week it was just something that I shrugged at. Garrett and Amy—my parents—had tolerated my rock-star ambitions only so far, and then they’d made me promise to try the college thing before making up my mind. 

I loved them, but they just didn’t fucking understand.

Tyler grinned at me as I flipped through the two pages of her handwritten notes, skimming over her neat handwriting. “Thank you, Ty.” I shook my head at her to emphasize how much I meant it, and she shrugged like it was no big deal. “How was your day?”

She grabbed her coffee and sipped from the cup, hesitating before she answered. Which told me more about her day than anything else. “It was fine.” She tried to smile but it didn’t quite meet her eyes, so I knew something was up.

“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t really one to press a point, especially if someone seemed not to want to talk about something. But I’d had more than enough girlfriends in my lifetime to know that wasn’t always the right move. Most of the girls I’d dated in the past liked to have information pried from them, with a lot of questions and prodding and shit. Tyler wasn’t one of those girls, though. She wasn’t anything like that. So I deliberated for a moment before deciding that I genuinely wanted to know.

If something was bothering her then I wanted to hear about it.

“What does fine mean? Looks like you’ve got something on your mind.”

She smiled again, but this one was better. A lot less forced. “Yeah.” She put her coffee on the table and leaned back in her chair, stretching. “I got partnered with this asshole for a Biology project. So I’m not too thrilled about that.”

I wasn’t a rescuing damsels, macho kind-of guy… So it took me by surprise when my first instinct was to feel a little ruffled on her behalf. But, shit, honestly I’d never heard Tyler complaining about anyone before. She was so easy-going, so completely uncomplicated. Very live and let live. So this was new.

I must have had some kind of expression on my face because she quickly amended. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” And then she shrugged, so I figured she probably didn’t want to delve into details about it.

“That sucks, baby.” I commiserated, because one of my exes—Jamie Lynn—had told me that sometimes a girl just wanted to be heard. Whatever the fuck that meant. “So did you hear any of the set?” I tactfully changed the subject. “How’d we sound?” 

“Yeah, I did,” she grinned, adjusting her messenger bag and dropping it back to the floor at her feet. “You guys sound amazing. I’ll be the first in line to get my CD signed, knocking fangirls out of the way so I can get to Aidan.” She chuckled and I shot her a glare, my mouth dropping open at her teasing.

“Hey, now.” I clutched at my chest in mock-pain. Aidan was the lead guitarist, my roommate Clay was bass, and I filled in the gaps. “That hurts, girl.” 

Tyler chuckled. “I meant Cressida. You know, since she’s got the best hair and all.”

It was a running argument in the band over who had the best hair… One that Tyler damn well knew about. And it was definitely me, by the fucking way. My hair was this awesome sandy blonde storm that curled when it was long and waved when it was short, and was fucking softer than a teddy bear’s. So fuck you. But yeah…

I shook my head at Tyler and blew out a slow breath. “We might have to break up.” 

Cressida’s hair was always dyed a new color every time I looked at her, and it was all right, but it wasn’t as cool as mine. She liked to roll tape on her microphone that matched her hair color, and I thought that was just showing the fuck off. But whatever.

Tyler laughed harder and leaned over to wrap her arms around my neck. She tried to kiss me but I dodged, fighting back a smile, so she just peppered my face instead.

Damn but this girl was cute, and I could not stop noticing it for the fucking life of me.

[turtlemagnum]

so, i should probably preface this with the fact that i'm whiter than most literal crackers and as such my thoughts should be taken in deference to other groups that are more educated on and affected by these issues. that being said, as somebody who's put hundreds of hours in morrowind, i feel like there's something of a problem with orientalism insofar as how the dunmer are portrayed? here's my evidence:

morrowind is an eastern province of the empire and there's a lot of attention drawn to its easternness, particularly in comparison to the distinctly western empire. the dunmer are socially conservative and deeply bigoted against foreigners, comparatively the empire are more socially egalitarian and are generally open to all comers despite the fact that they've literally colonized morrowind against its inhabitants will. dunmer typically have slanted eyes, and their province is the exclusive home we see in the series of katanas and shurikens. this isn't canon but i think it's indicative of the mindset that the dunmer were approached with by the writers that in c0da, which is again a work i have a deep love and appreciation for, the morag tong are referred to as "dark elf ninjas"; not even mentioning how the main character is said to be wearing a kimono at one point. there's a lot of east asian and particularly japanese coding given to the dunmer, and i think it's kinda fucked up that this explicitly backwards, inhuman race of people have very blatant parallels to real world groups of human people y'know? and don't get me wrong, i love using a daedric katana as much as the next red blooded weeaboo, but it's definitely a bit fucked up that they're most prominently featured in morrowind y'know

now, i'm gonna be honest and say that i don't think bethesda are intentionally racist here. given how ghouls and synths in bethesda fallout are both very unsubtle and heavyhanded allegories for real world racism as well as their unapologetic anti-nazi stance when discussing the wolfenstein games they publish, they do strike me as a group of developers who, on some level, understand that racism is bad. it's just that they're also predominantly a group of white, middle class new englanders who're rather isolated from real world racism and as such probably couldn't tell you why racism is bad on any thoughtful level, and probably just didnt think that hard about it in the first place. if they're racist, i firmly believe there's no active malice behind it, and maybe this is an exceptionally white sentiment but i do believe that certain kinds of racism are less harmful than others. like i don't think the folks over at bethesda would, say, commit a hate crime, and would think something like that happening would be abhorrent. perhaps this is a bit generous to them, but to put it in a way that i am actually qualified to speak on, i'd much rather have a straight person say "well as long as you dont hit on ME..." and get on with whatever interaction we were having if they found out i'm queer rather than hate criming me, y'know? it can be insufferable at times, but personally speaking i think bigotry out of non-malicious ignorance is preferable to bigotry out of actively malicious hatred; the practical difference is that one tends to lead to mild mutual discomfort and the other tends to lead to potentially life altering violence. but again, i am not an authority on racism, and i'll have to defer to the judgement of anybody who could be considered as such

one final note is a bit of a conversation i had that's stuck with me for years, well after the parting between me and the person i spoke with has passed. she was a chinese trans woman whom i was friends with for quite a long time, and we were talking about racism and how i can better educate myself on it. i'm unsure if i'm gonna be able to get this quote exactly right, but she told me something to the effect of "all you need to be not racist is an open heart and an open mind :)". now, maybe that's a bit idealistic, maybe a tad simplistic, i dunno. but i'd like to think that if you sat down and talked to the writers over at bethesda about at least this, they'd come away with a better understanding of the world. and to be fair, maybe they've already gotten better about it! i dunno, the last elder scrolls game that came out was over a decade ago, and morrowind was over 20. i definitely feel like in the past few years specifically, more and more normal people have been becoming educated to one degree or another about racism, and while admittedly that's coincided with a global rise in fascism i feel like there's still a lot of good, decent people who know better. i dunno, maybe that's naive of me. hell if i know

[dcpbybia2024]

DCP day 1-2

March 18-19

arrived yesterday morning, my check in was supposed to be 0815 but I was late and didn't end up getting to check in until like 0900 but that wasn't a big deal at all.

met a girl in line, she was nice and we exchanged instas so I hope i get to keep in touch. Check in was basically:

a form that I filled in off a QR code from the housing company

then they put us (~100ish of us?) in a room to watch the housing policies/intro video.

getting my picture taken for my account

received my welcome ticket for the parks

received my room keycard and parking pass (I registered/paid for the parking pass in advance when I registered for housing)

the next thing on my agenda was the background check, which was super quick they just scanned my ID and took my fingerprints.

then i began to move in, i was by myself so it took a few trips to get my stuff from my car to my apartment, but it wasn't too difficult. I brought a folding beach cart thing which was a lifesaver and I would recommend.

i got to my apt and there was nobody there, so i just moved my stuff into my space (I have a 2x2) and found my roomie had left me a sweet little note and some candy/snacks for me, which i really appreciated.

i was free to move in until 4, when i was scheduled to go to Making the Most of YOUR Program, which was pretty much what it says on the label, about 40 mins of tips and guidelines alongside some inspirational/curated videos on how to use the resources in the program.

afterwards I met my roommate, and she showed me around the apartment and gave me the low down on how things work with the program.

my mom arrived later in the evening and i grabbed dinner with her and we went for groceries and stuff at the target and tjmaxx nearby.

last night my roommate invited me to meet her friend group at the hot tub so i hung out with them for a while, then took a shower and went to bed to get up for my swim test the next morning.

DAY 2

this morning i got up around 0645, made some eggs and ham for brekky (yum) and went down to the buses to go to Mickey's Retreat for my lifeguard swim test. i met some people on the bus but didn't exchange info but i hope i can catch up with them :/

the test was pretty straightforward and consistent with other coaching/lifeguarding assessments i've done prior. the deep water test was as follows:

200yd continuous swim

10lb brick retrieval from 8ft depth

2min tread no hands

hearing test (they blew a whistle)

vision test (read from an eye chart)(you can keep your glasses/contacts on)

they said we will test again on location, and i got my training schedule for the next couple weeks which includes a 3 day lifeguard course back at Mickey's Retreat which i suspect will align with the standard guard classes i am familiar with. the schedule has some costuming info included, but i'm not sure if i should be wearing a guard suit underneath or what bc its a shirt/shorts combo. it includes shoes tho so that's cool.

after i got back i checked out the gym in the community center and it looks really nice! i went on the treadmill for a little before coming back to the apartment and putting up the rest of my decorations.

I meal prepped some greek salad/rice and then accidentally knocked out and napped for like the entire afternoon (oops)

after I woke up I came back to the community center to putz around on my computer and that brings us up to now and I'm about to go back to the hot tub with my roommate's friends and hang out :)

[fictionalwhores]

Marauders with a Deaf Reader

Summary: How the marauders would be with a deaf friend (platonic!)

A/N: I am writing this based off of my own experiences. I wear hearing aids and my hearing loss sits at about 95 decibels, I mostly use verbal language and lip reading to communicate but sign language helps me sooo much if the person does know it. This is platonic but I kinda wanna write romantic versions too... 

Masterlist

~~~~

-James is the first person to learn sign language for you, without a doubt. He doesn’t ever really understand the grammar but he’ll sign the basics of what he’s saying to you to help you keep up 

-It’s a good thing that James learns sign language because he speaks so fast and kinda slurs his words together so its hard to read his lips even though he’ll repeat anything as many times as you need 

-Remus has the easiest lips to read and you can’t convince me otherwise

-His signing is wonky and it takes him a while to pick up on it and he’s still pretty slow when he does get it down, but he loves passing notes with you even though your hearing aids allow you to hear him talking 

-Remus is also definitely the person who understands the “I can hear you but can’t understand you” and has to explain it to Sirius who gets confused as to why you heard him speaking but not what he specifically said 

-Sirius likes yelling to get your attention and one of the boys always slap him upside the head 

-Sirius has so many deaf jokes but if someone makes a comment about you he will throw hands 

-he also loves signing to you from across the classroom, he compares it to talking in code and demands to have sign names relating to their marauder names 

-Remus helps you jinx your quill to be able to pick up on things you cant hear the professors say during class, and he’ll share his notes with you if you still feel like you missed something 

-James is the one who translates the most for you, he won’t even be actively listening to your conversation but if you give him a look that says “help me” he’ll join in to help you understand what’s going on 

-Sirius is the best at spell pronunciation so when you're struggling to properly hear something he will help you

"Wingardium leviosa"

"That's what I said!"

"No, love, you're saying levioSA, it's the emphasis on the 'O'"

-You all refer to your hearing aids as your “ears,” and first years are always confused to hear

“do you have your ears in?”

“Yes”

“Excellent, so guess what happened-” 

-James charming your hearing aid molds to change to the color of what house you’re rooting for during each match 

-Sometimes its hard to keep up when all of the boys go on a tangent but James will repeat everything you need and reminds Sirius that he needs to face you when he talks to you because he forgets that the most often 

-The boys making sure the music at parties are amplified to create vibrations for you to better bop along too

[kimpossibly]

[001] BEING THE YOUNGEST IN THE STUDY GROUP (nbc community headcanons)

Because I am talking about a big group, I made a little color-coded list so there should be no confusion as to who is speaking! Also, this is set about halfway through season one, so that explains the timeline.

Reader = Purple Jeff = Blue Britta = Orange Annie = Yellow Abed = Green Troy = Red Shirley = Pink

pairing: fem!reader x platonic!community warnings: none

The choice to go to community college hadn't exactly been an ideal one

You had accidentally filled out all your actual college applications wrong and didn't realize they never went through until all the application dates had passed.

So, weighing your options, you decided that Greendale was your best option.

By then you had to enroll in all the leftover classes that still had spots open

You had taken French all throughout high school and barely retained a word of it. You'd hoped to jump into some French classes for an easy A, but all of the French classes had already filled up.

The solution? Spanish 101.

You showed up to the first day of class determined to make the best of the awful hand you had been dealt.

And surprise, surprise! Spanish was nothing like French.

The teacher was a little kooky and he severely overestimated how much work his students could do before the next class.

Before you knew it, you were drowning in work that you didn't know how to do and suddenly your grade started to drop.

When your next door neighbor took a liking to blasting loud music while you were trying to study, you decided to head to one of the study rooms to try and be productive.

But when you got there, you found the table was already full of people.

"Oh! My bad, sorry-"

You tried to leave, but, due to your immense surprise, one of the girls at the table recognized you.

"Hey, wait - aren't you in our Spanish class?"

Before you could confirm, someone answered for you.

"Yeah. She sits in the third row and color codes all her notes."

You looked at him in confusion.

"I'm Abed."

And then another woman in the room smiled at you.

"You color code your notes?"

You nodded and took them out to show her, but a douchey looking guy in a leather jacket scoffed.

"The only people who color code notes are horse girls and psychopaths."

Four years of going to public school has made you immune to assholes...and excellent at shutting them down.

So you slapped down your color coded notes and took the chair beside him.

"I bet this psychopath's color coded notes can teach you more Spanish in five minutes than an entire semester of whatever blow-off class you're taking."

And again, to your surprise, he almost looked impressed.

"I'm Jeff Winger."

"Y/n L/n."

And just like that, you were in.

You met with the group every day after class to work on the Spanish homework and study for upcoming tests and quizzes

But, to be honest, you guys weren't always great at staying on task.

"Okay, um... yo nací en mil novecientos noventa y dos."

"Hang on, that can't be right. You just said you were born in 1992."

"No, that's right."

"Y/n, that would make you seventeen."

"...Yeah?"

Needless to say, they kinda lost it.

"You're even younger than me! Wait, I'm not the youngest anymore? Ha! Suck it, Y/n!"

"I started school a year early and I have a late birthday! I don't know what the big deal is."

"No big deal, I just didn't know that there was a child in our midst."

"I am not a child."

"Aw, look at them pouting! They're so little and adorable."

Thus began your long journey of trying to prove to your friends that you were not a child.

Your first step? Changing up your look.

And boy did you turn some heads when you walked into the study room in a leather jacket and thick eyeliner

"Okay Wednesday Addams, give us our Y/n back and no one gets hurt."

"Jeff, I'm trying to prove a point."

"Is the point that you lost a bet with the cosmetology class?"

So...yeah. That didn't go as well as you were hoping.

Even so, they stuck by you through all of your erratic, split second decisions that you made without really considering the consequences

Like when you walked into the first day of second semester with bangs you had cut yourself over the break.

Surprisingly, Abed seemed to be the one most enthusiastic about them.

“It’s likely that we’ve just began a new season, so one of the main characters changed up their look to provide a jumping off point and to keep viewers interested.”

Silence followed…

“I like them.”

“Aw, thanks Abed!”

But, obviously, you endured some teasing—mostly from Jeff.

“Okay, remind me not to let Mia Wallace near a pair of scissors ever again.”

“Did you just Google ‘female characters with bangs’ and use the first one on the list?”

"…No.” (Jeff said as he slyly put his phone back in his pocket.)

The group became like a family to you, but sometimes you missed your family

Especially when they called and said that they couldn't make it to Family Day. You had had the sneaking suspicion that they were disappointed that you ended up at Greendale, but this seemed to confirm it.

You did your best not to let on how upset you were by brushing it off when you were asked.

"Y/n, how worried should I be about interacting with your parents on a scale of Helicopter Mom to Cougar?"

"Actually, my parents aren't coming to Family Day."

"Oh no, why not?"

"They were just busy. It's fine, I saw them a couple weeks ago. No big deal."

Family day approached and you were actually feeling pretty okay about the situation. Acting like you didn't care had actually made you not care, which you thought at the time was a good thing.

But as you sat in the quad and watched everyone walk around with their relatives, talking and touring, you realized just how upset you really were.

So you left.

You found yourself hunched over your Spanish textbook in the empty study room reading the same sentence over and over and mindlessly writing unhelpful notes that you'd never actually study.

You weren't sure how long you'd been there before you noticed someone looking over your shoulder.

"That's odd, these Spanish notes are in black and white."

"I wasn't in the mood to color code. Plus Abed stole all my pens to make mini lightsabers."

Jeff sat next to you, taking your textbook and notebook and placing them on the other side of the table.

"Look, I know that I spend a lot of time trying to act like I'm older than I am, but I'm still a kid. Know how I know? Because I miss my mom and dad. I was always a little afraid to leave home, so when I had to come here for school, I had to admit that I felt a little relieved to be only an hour away from where I grew up. I felt safer knowing my parents would only be a short car ride away. But now it just feels like they might as well be on the other side of the country. I know they're disappointed I didn't go to an Ivy League or get to go out of state for college, but I wish they'd just get over it and accept it. I have. Why can't they?"

Jeff never considered himself particularly good at the advice thing. Sure, he could talk until hell froze over and manipulate anyone into doing his bidding, but he could never figure out how to make sad people be less sad. You may have been young, but you weren't naive - he knew that.

He saw you now like a younger sibling rather than a jury member or someone he was trying to con. So he decided to speak accordingly.

"People are stupid. Parents are stupid. Greendale may not be Ivy League, but it's something. You could've blown off college and stayed at home where it's safe, but you didn't. You cared enough to pack your stuff, drive sixty minutes away, rob an entire Office Depot, and enroll in the last classes they had available. You did all that because you care. And if they can't see that, then that's on them. I may not know a whole lot about warm, fuzzy, familial relationships, but I do know this: you have a family here at Greendale. A weird, messed up, occasionally problematic family. So screw Family Day. We're a study group. And I wouldn't trade that for the world."

You hadn't expected to tear up, but you did anyway. You said nothing and hugged Jeff, who reluctantly returned it.

"I'll steal your pens back from Abed."

"Thanks."

The rest of the year progressed smoothly. Sure, you guys had your ups and downs of course, but you always found yourselves back in the group study room after class

But that, you supposed, was what a family did.

Author's Note: Can you tell I'm obsessed with Community??? Ugh this was so fun to write, I genuinely love the headcanon format because it's how my brain just functions, so this was really good for me to write to get out of my head for a bit. It's also funny bc this is how it is with my friend group, all of which are in college except for me, so it was fun to draw from some real life experiences. I hope you guys had a lovely week and I hope this makes you smile! Much love 💗🖤

[ghostdrinkssoup]

hi everyone here’s the next hannibal notes/reactions (s1 ep8 aka the notorious romcom episode and also the finale of the crush arc) except it’s just the silly goofy ones:

FROMAGE <333 this one is lowkey one of my favourites

“did you think it was a date?” “honestly it never crossed my mind” - will cringe fail era ngl 😭

“JUST KIDDING” PLEASE that’s like hannibal with his cannibal jokes 💀

“shake it off, keep on looking” will,, no,,,

I hate to say it but this is the most homoerotic murder we’ve seen so far like okayyy

“I want to be supportive of you” HANNIBAL STFU

“had to open you up to get a decent sound out of you” okayyyy

^^ THE WAY ZELLER LOOKS AT WILL AFTER HE SAYS THAT LMAOOO he’s like 😟

“he’s a poet and a psychopath 😳”

hannibal: omg he was serenading me… 🥹🔪

“I believe he wants to show someone how well he plays” maybe I giggled. maybe just a little

poor franklyn tbh 😭😭 get outta there king

“because he knows I’d tell you” the love letter has been passed in class now hannibal is meeting tobias behind the bleachers

“I didn’t want you to stop playing” now why was that kinda romantic

it’s both flirtatious and threatening, freaks </33

“what kind of animal was it?” will sitting there like oh it was me 🤭

“you have to stop thinking so much” says you will *throws plate at his head*

IT STARTED OUT WITH A KISS HOW DID IT END UP LIKE THIS

so true alana get outta there, do it for franklyn who never could </3

anyway next up is hannibal and tobias’ date. *announcer voice* will hannibal fare any better with his romantic pursuits? stay tuned after the break to find out

tobias is UNHINGED

“don’t kill franklyn 🥺” SHUT UP

hannibal: “ofc you want to kill me I’m hot and sexy 🙄”

“I could use a friend” friend is code for boy best friend 🤭💖

“I don’t want to be your friend” LITERALLY GET OWNED

NOT WILL INTERRUPTING THE DATE ?? TEA ?? this show is a romcom

“I kissed alana bloom” what is wrong with you

that is such a long drive like will 😭😭 please

“you have a guest? 🤨” literally GO AWAY

^^ WILL LOOKS SO UPSET

he’s like wtf… why would you be hanging out with anyone but me. what the hell. wine glasses too ?? you drink wine with other people ?? I’m about to break the table and eat the plates

“I don’t disagree” HANNIBAL LMAO he’s like this is the worst dynamic 🙄🙄 wbk

“I’m wondering then why you kissed her, and felt compelled to drive an hour in the snow just to tell me about it” HE SOUNDS SO ANGRY ?? like it’s subtle the way he always is but he’s internally rolling his eyes and clicking his tongue 😭

why is this literally like everybody talks “IT STARTED WITH A WHISPER AND THAT WAS WHEN I KISSED HER”

me and hannibal are both psychoanalysing the hell out of will rn

“it’s our song” - now why was that romantic

NOT HANNIBAL SENDING WILL TO TOBIAS AFTER TOBIAS SAID HE’D KILL THE MEN WHO CAME TO INVESTIGATE HIM ??? he’s feeling a little silly

^^ he’s literally self destructive and is the cause of all his problems I hate him 🫶

hannibal: *sends will to his likely death*

also hannibal literally next scene: *laments to bedelia about his will obsession and want for connection*

he’s so stupid 😩 I hate gay people

“is there someone new in your life?” “I met a man :D” why is he acting cute 😭

not hannibal confessing his crush on will to bedelia, he’s literally twirling his hair and kicking his legs AGAIN like a FOOL

“he can assume my point of view” bedelia is immediately like 🚩

NOTHING GOOD EVER HAPPENS IN A BASEMENT

NOT TOBIAS SHOWING UP AT HANNIBAL’S OFFICE WHEN FRANKLYN IS THERE WHAT IS THIS A SOAP OPERA

I like how hannibal willingly sent will to tobias (and his likely death) and then is SURPRISED when tobias said he killed the police who came to investigate him LIKE HE SAID HE WOULD

^^ clown behaviour

the girls are fighting 😳

this bitch fight was so needed 💅

hannibal tearing up when he sees will what if I cried too huh? what then? but no at this point hannibal has totally fallen for him jeez 😭

“I was worried you were dead” SHUT UP

also we were so robbed of will wiping the blood from hannibal’s face in that scene why would they take that from us </3

“I can’t help feeling responsible for what happened to franklyn” SHUT UP I HATE HIM

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Forbidden

Kinktober 2022 - Day 31

Pairing: Uni-Student!Bucky Barnes x Professor!Fem!Reader

Kink: Age Difference 

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Bucky is one of your students but he somehow was able to become a part of your life. 

Warnings: explicit language, age-gap (Bucky is in his early 20s and Reader is in her late 30s), explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, soft sex, oral sex (f! receiving), vaginal fingering), sexual tension, student/professor relationship (do not recommend!), a lot of fluff, two dorks being in love

a/n: Here is Day 31! Sorry for being late but I hope you enjoy this word vomit! I kinda got carried away! Hope you enjoy!

Banner by @vase-of-lilies​ 

You smiled at the students as they filed into the classroom and you walked to the front classroom and introduced yourself and did attendance before passing out the course break down then going over it and starting the first unit of the semester. You were a neurobiology professor at the university, which you were the only person who taught it, so your classes were pretty empty but it made it easier to help struggling students. You explained that the first unit would mainly be a review of the things they learned in biology, so you handed out the review packets that they would start today. You started the lesson by using slides representing the pages of the packet and explained the pages in sections so as to not overwhelm them. 

At the end of the class, all the students left except for one who walked up to your desk. You looked up at the student and smiled at him. He looked to be about 22 and a little nervous as he looked down at you. “Hi, you’re James right?” You asked with a warm smile and he nodded a bit before clearing his throat.

“Y-yeah, I was wondering when your office hours are?” Bucky asked with a soft smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“My office hours are from 2pm-6pm on weekdays, I’m not in on the weekends unfortunately but I am here after school.” You smiled at him as you adjusted the reading glasses on your nose. He nodded before he checked the time that read 2:15. 

“Are you free right now?” He asked with a sly smile. 

You chuckled as you checked the time and nodded before standing up and gathering your things. “I am. Follow me to my office.”

And that started a routine. Every Wednesday and Friday after class, Bucky would come knocking on your door to have you help him with some notes or assignments. The truth was that he didn’t need help, he understood the material perfectly but he couldn’t get you off his mind. Since the first day, you were caring and helpful and humored him and his antics. He was always making jokes in class but also he answered questions correctly and added facts to the material you were working with that day. So, that’s why you didn’t understand why he needed the help and yet the routine continued. 

Until one day, Bucky didn’t come to your office on Wednesday and it left you confused. It was routine for you and you always liked helping him even though it led to just talking and joking (way out of the teacher code of conduct) and it was nice to have someone to talk to after school. You were new to the university and hadn’t really made any teacher friends so talking with Bucky was nice. 

The next day, you walked into school and made your way to your classroom when you saw Bucky walking with a girl and she had her arm linked through his. You felt a small pang of something… that almost felt like jealousy… but that was crazy, right? He was your student. He was allowed to have friends or girlfriends, so why did you feel like this? You sighed as you walked past and into the classroom which was empty due to it being so early. 

You sipped on your coffee as you scrolled on your laptop, looking up new topics to introduce into the unit that the class was in. You heard a knock on the door and you looked at the open door to see Bucky standing in the doorway and you put on a smile for him. “Good morning, James.” You smiled as you sipped your coffee. 

“Good morning, Miss Y/l/n. I just wanted to stop by and apologize for yesterday. I was going out with some friends.” He said as he placed his hands in his pockets. 

“It’s perfectly fine. I understand.” You smiled as you set down your cup and leaned into the chair. “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you crossed your arms and he nodded, “Why do you come to me for help? You’re a very smart man, so why do you ask for my help?” You questioned and Bucky shrugged as his cheeks tinted pink. 

“I guess… Well, can I tell you a secret?” He asked as he closed the door and walked over to the seat in front of your desk. 

You smiled warmly and nodded, “Of course.” 

“At the beginning it was because I had a small crush on you but then I realized that you were really nice and it was fun to talk to you and joke with you. So, I guess I ask for “help” because I enjoy your company.” He shrugged and you swore your heart swelled with affection for the young man. 

“That’s really sweet, James, but you do know that I am your professor.” You sighed as you leaned on your hands. 

He nodded with a small pout, “I know but I can’t help it, you’re just so pretty and kind-” 

“James, we can’t. You know that.” You whispered as you leaned on your desk. 

“Why not? We’re both adults-” 

“I could get fired-”

“I won’t tell anyone. I swear.” He whispered as he leaned on your desk, closer to you and you sighed before you leaned on the desk to face him. 

He cupped your one cheek with his hand and you muttered a “screw it” before you kissed him softly. He kissed back deeply as he pulled you closer to him before you pulled away to cup his face, “This is wrong.” You whispered and Bucky smirked and kissed you again.

“But it feels good doesn’t it?” He asked with a hint of cockiness to his tone and you rolled your eyes. 

“Meet me in my office after school, okay? We’ll continue this conversation later.” You said as you patted his cheek and he sighed dramatically as he pulled away and you giggled softly before you stood up and walked around the desk. You sat on the edge and you cupped his face softly. “It’s only a few hours. You can wait.” 

At the end of the day, Bucky rushed down the hall to your office and he knocked on the wooden door. You called to him and he walked in and you sat at your office with your computer and you typed away at it. Bucky walked up to the chair in front of your desk and he set his bag down on the carpet next to him. You took off your glasses as you looked up at him.

“Hello, James.” You smiled at him as you took a sip of your sweet tea. “Are you ready to continue our conversation?” You asked as you stood up and moved to lean on the edge of the desk. Bucky smirked up at you and he moved his hands onto your thighs and you were quick to push them off. “Slow down. First I have some questions.” You started as you leaned on your hands as you leaned on the desk. 

“What are they?” He asked, looking like a lost puppy and you smiled at him. 

“Well, first, who was that girl you were walking with earlier? I don’t want to get involved with you if you have a girlfriend.” You said as you looked down at him with a soft sigh. 

He quickly shook his head, “No, no. She’s my sister. She just transferred here and I was helping her around. I promise I wouldn’t have started this if I wasn’t single.” He explained and you smiled as you listened to him. 

“Also, if we are going to start this, it can only be after school or on the weekends. We cannot risk getting caught during school hours.” You sighed as Bucky scooted up to sit in between your legs and you ran your fingers through his soft hair. 

“I understand.” He agreed and practically purred as you scratched his scalp softly. You cupped his cheek softly and he nuzzled into your palm and you smiled as you leaned down and kissed him passionately. He groaned quietly against his lips as he pulled you into his lap and you placed your hands on his shoulders. 

His hands trailed up your back and pulled you against his chest and kissed you deeply. You moaned quietly against his lips as his hands moved down to squeeze your ass. You pulled away and started unbuttoning your blouse as he yanked off his t-shirt and he kissed you again. 

“W-we- mh- have to be- mm- quick.” You mumbled against his lips as his hands moved down to unzip your pencil skirt. 

He pulled back with a smirk, “No we don’t. I made sure everyone was gone before I came here.” He winked and you giggled as you rolled your eyes. 

“At least you’re being careful.” You smiled as you kissed his lips softly before he picked you up and you squealed before he brushed off some things from your desk onto the floor. “You better not have broken anything.” You scold as you looked up at him and he smirked. 

“I’ll get you new things.” He shrugged before he sat you on the wood of the table and he kneeled in between your spread thighs and he pushed them open. He kissed your inner thighs as he hiked your skirt up and his nimble fingers hooked in your panties before tugging them down your thighs. He sucked on the insides of your thighs and he gripped your thighs and pushed them up on the desk. He growled softly at the sight of your soaked cunt and he leaned down to trace your folds with his thumb.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart. So soaked, all ready for me.” He smirked as he slid his thumb between your folds and rubbed your clit softly. You moaned softly as your hips bucked up into his hand as you threaded your fingers through his hair. 

“Don’t be a tease, handsome.” You sighed as you tugged him closer and he winked before he dove into your pussy. He lapped at your cunt with vigor and he slid his tongue deep into your pussy and you moaned as you threw your head back. He held you against his face and you threw your legs over his shoulders and you moaned as he licked deeper into you. “O-oh, James!” You cried softly as you arched against him and he curled his tongue up to rub against your g-spot. He pulled away and licked his lips before he brought his hand up and slid two thick fingers into your tight cunt. 

“God, you’re tight. When was the last you got laid?” He asked with a cocky smirk and you rolled your eyes as you tugged him up to your lips. 

“It’s been a while, would you like to change that?” You asked with a smirk as you kissed him passionately and he smirked before he pulled his fingers out of you. He brought them up to his lips and he sucked and licked them clean and you smirked wider as you ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned at your taste before he kissed you again. “Strip down, handsome. Wanna see you.” You purred as you cupped his cheek with one hand and he nuzzled into your hand. 

He pulled away with a smirk as he started stripping down out of his jeans and shirt. You quickly stripped out of your own clothes, making you bare for him. He growled at the sight and his cock stood proudly against his belly and you bit your lip as you looked him up and down. His chest was toned with muscles but his body had a young roundness to it and you sighed as you leaned on the desk. He walked over to you and scooped you up in his arms and you giggled as he walked over to the wall and pressed you against it. 

You kissed him passionately as his hand moved down to grab his cock and he lined it up to your entrance. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asked quietly as he rested his head against yours and you smiled softly at his concern. 

“I am. I’m so ready for you.” You whispered as you kissed him deeply and he slowly slid into your tight and soaked cunt. You moaned loudly as he filled you up but you bit your lip to try and muffle your moans but Bucky shook his head. 

“No, no. Wanna hear you. We’re all alone, just me and you.” He whispered as he kissed you again and he slowly started thrusting in and out of you. You whined and moaned as you felt him deep in you and you tangled your fingers through his hair. He was so big, so deep in you, he was at least eight inches and two inches thick and it felt like he was splitting you open. The pain of the stretch passed as he continued to thrust in and out of your clenching cunt and you keened against his lips. 

You pulled away to rest your forehead against his and you watched him a flicker of love in your eyes. He looked at you with the same look in his eyes as his hands caressed your hips and his hips moved in a slow and deep pace, in and out of you making you keen and moan. You knew this was wrong, you could get fired, but at this moment you couldn’t care. He was forbidden but it made this so much better.