#College au

[nanamis-baker]

Unexpected Blooms

Chapter 1 | Whisper of the Petals

Pairing: philosophy student Geto x art student f!reader (College AU)

Summary: A mystery blooms on your doorstep. A breathtaking bouquet of white flowers, a silent whisper of apology… but it's not for you. Delivered under the name of a man so handsome he takes your breath away, the mix-up sets your heart racing.

Fate seems determined to keep throwing you together, and soon you're caught in a whirlwind of chance encounters and undeniable chemistry. It was almost as if it was trying to bring you together.

Content: Fluff, slow burn, Reader falling for Geto (Kinda), Geto being a gentleman but also an idiot.

Status: Ongoing

Word Count: 10.6k

a/n: Big big thanks to my love @whereflowerswenttodie for putting up with me and beta-reading this. Seriously can't thank her enough!🌷

Series mlist | Next Chapter →

A frown creased your brow as you spotted a bouquet of white roses outside your apartment door. The fresh blooms whispered apologies, but the sentiment felt misplaced. There was no reason anyone would apologise to you, right?

Unlocking the door, you carried the bouquet inside, its beauty undeniable. White, velvety roses, their centres a pale blush in the fading light, stood proudly in the centre. Delicate baby's breath, like a cloud of tiny white stars, surrounded them. A few sprigs of eucalyptus peeked out from the arrangement, their fresh, invigorating scent filling the air with a clean aroma.

The flowers were surrounded with brown paper arranged in a vase, and tied at the base of the clear glass vase was a simple white ribbon, its frayed edges hinting at a vintage charm. The entire bouquet held a quiet elegance that felt at odds with the confusing message of the flowers themselves.

Whoever sent it clearly had an eye for aesthetics. You placed it on the coffee table and searched for a card. Surely, there'd be an explanation nestled among the petals, right? You looked through the delicate flowers, and finally found it! A small white card that was tucked discreetly among the flowers.

Pulling it out, you read it as your frown deepened. The message written across it felt like a riddle:

"I apologise for not being there for you enough. Forgive me, please? -Suguru Geto"

Suguru Geto? The name brushed against the edges of your memory, yet you couldn't quite grasp where you'd heard it. This stranger's apology left you bewildered.

It seemed like there was a mix-up; these flowers weren’t meant for you. So you decided to call the flower company responsible for the delivery- their contact details were printed behind the card- hoping for some clarity.

You dialled the flower company, the phone balanced between your ear and shoulder, as your fingers traced the elegant script of the note. The words were written in cursive, each letter precise and controlled. As you pondered the identity of this apologetic stranger, the line connected.

The call confirmed your suspicions. The flowers were originally meant for Suguru Geto's girlfriend, not you, but because of some mistake, they were delivered to your address. You asked them how to return the flowers, but unfortunately, the company policy prevented them from retrieving the delivered flowers, leaving them in your possession.

The expensive blooms sat accusingly on the table- You had to return then, right? You politely requested Geto's contact information to return them, but their policy prohibited sharing customer details.

Their policy - or lack thereof - felt absurd. First, they deliver the flowers to the wrong address, then leave you holding the beautiful (and expensive) bouquet?

You were about to hang up, feeling disappointed when the person on the other end inquired about your university. You raised an eyebrow at the question. Apparently, this company provides exclusive student discounts to the students of your university, and Suguru Geto also used it for these flowers.

So he was a student at your university.

Disconnecting the call, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You opened Instagram and typed the name into the search bar. A quick search yielded several profiles, and the third one seemed to hold the key as your college name was in the bio. Though the profile was private, a sliver of hope remained. You crafted a message and sent it off:

"Hey! I received some flowers with your name as the sender - I think they were meant for someone else. Please let me know if we can meet so I can return them!"

Without waiting for a reply, you kept your phone aside, your eyes lingering on the growing pile of dishes in the sink. With a sigh, you decided to tackle the growing problem.

The sound of water running and the rhythmic clinking of dishes filled the air as you cleaned them.

Minutes ticked by, measured by the steady rhythm of your cleaning and the nervous flutter in your stomach. Just as you were about to rinse the last plate, your phone vibrated on the counter, a welcome interruption.

A message. It was from Geto. Relief washed over you, quickly followed by a jolt of anticipation. After drying your hands hastily on a dish towel, you grabbed your phone. The message itself was short and to the point:

"Hi. Yes, those flowers were meant for my girlfriend. We can meet here if it’s okay with you."

A small map icon accompanied the text, and you recognised the cafe he was referring to instantly. It was a cosy little place a few blocks from your apartment, with mismatched furniture and a perpetually overflowing basket of croissants and muffins - a familiar and safe space.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Yeah, you were okay with the place. You typed a quick reply, sending it off with a silent hope.

Moments later, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a confirmation. You were meeting Suguru Geto.

And here you were, seated across from Suguru Geto at a small, round table bathed in the warm glow of a nearby lamp.

He was, undeniably, handsome. But it wasn't a flashy, in-your-face kind of handsomeness. It was subtle, a carefully curated blend of features that somehow managed to be both sharp and approachable. His hair, raven black, was pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands escaping to curl around his forehead.

A pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, framing eyes the colour of polished obsidian. They were intelligent eyes, you noted, with a hint of something deeper lurking beneath the surface. He wore a simple outfit – a crisp white button-down shirt peeked out from under a light grey sweater, the sleeves pushed up slightly, revealing strong forearms, marked by a network of bluish-purple veins that ran up like delicate maps.

"I would like to apologise for the flowers," Geto began after the two of you had exchanged some pleasantries. His voice was kind. "I hope they didn't cause you any trouble." A hint of nervousness flickered in his dark eyes.

"Flowers can't cause trouble," you said, a playful lilt in your voice, "but it seems as if apologies are becoming a habit for you." He had apologised on the note accompanying the flowers, he had apologised when you saw him at the cafe first- for causing you the trouble of coming all the way here - and now he was apologising again.

Geto's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, spreading upwards to touch the tips of his ears. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck, a gesture that seemed endearingly awkward.

"Ah, right. My girlfriend... Well, she was upset that I haven't been around much lately. The flowers were supposed to be an apology, but..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment. "Things didn't work out. We broke up this morning, actually." He gestured towards the bouquet with a wry smile. "So, these are a bit… redundant now."

A pang of sympathy stabbed at you, but you masked it with a playful shrug. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as a bustling group entered the cafe, momentarily distracting you.

"Actually," Geto started, bringing your attention back, then hesitated. He leaned forward slightly, the proximity sending shivers down your spine. His voice dropped to a low murmur as he said, "You should keep them. Consider them an apology for the trouble?" His dark eyes held yours for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before he quickly looked away.

There you sat, as a stranger offered you flowers that were meant for his girlfriend, while simultaneously detailing his recent heartbreak. It was undeniably weird, but a strange curiosity gnawed at you. What kind of dynamic existed between him and his ex?

As if sensing your unspoken question, Geto spoke up, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "We weren't together for long, just a couple of months," he explained. "My best friend... well, he's been struggling with health issues lately. I had to be there for him, you see. But my girlfriend took it the wrong way – felt like I was avoiding her. I tried to explain, but..." his voice trailed off, a flicker of frustration crossing his features, as his brows furrowed slightly.

He seemed to catch himself, a touch of self-consciousness creeping into his tone as he looked at you. "I apologise for unloading all this. You probably don't want to hear a stranger rant about his breakup."

"No, no, it's alright," you interjected quickly, wanting to ease the tension that had settled between you. Just then, the waiter approached your table, balancing two steaming cups of coffee- your cappuccino and his espresso- the arrival provided a welcome interruption.

A comfortable silence settled between you as you both reached for your drinks. You stole a glance at Geto as you lifted your coffee mug to your lips.

There was an aura of composure about him, a quiet confidence that drew you in. He sat with his back straight, his gaze fixed on his cup. Perhaps it was the way he held himself, or the faint hint of a smile playing on his lips, but he seemed completely at ease, radiating a sense of being ‘collected’.

Curiosity tugged at you, battling with the comfortable rhythm of the moment. You decided to break the silence, leaning forward slightly.

"So, what are you studying?" you asked, eager to learn more about the man sitting across from you.

Geto met your gaze, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. "I'm majoring in philosophy," he replied. "It's always fascinated me – the questions, the search for meaning..." he trailed off.

"Philosophy, huh?" you said, raising an eyebrow in question. "Interesting choice. What drew you to it?"

Geto offered a grateful smile. The conversation flowed easily from there, bouncing between his major and yours – philosophy and art, a surprising but intriguing combination. Time seemed to melt away as you delved deeper into each other's worlds, the awkward initial encounter fading into a pleasant exchange.

As he spoke, you found yourself captivated not just by his words, but by the way his eyes seemed to flicker with an unspoken curiosity, a constant need to look beyond the surface, to delve deeper.

You noted the intensity in his gaze, a spark that hinted at a mind housing complex ideas and theories. He spoke with a quiet passion, dissecting concepts and questioning assumptions in a way that both challenged and enthralled you. The more he spoke, the more you realised the philosophy major wasn't just an academic pursuit for him; it was a reflection of his very being. It was the key that unlocked his perspective on the world, a perspective that strangely resonated with your own artistic desire to peel back the layers and expose the hidden truths beneath.

You found yourself listening intently to Geto's passionate words. So, when the insistent chirping of your phone sliced through the comfortable bubble of conversation, you were startled. Glancing at the screen, you groaned. "Shoot," you muttered, scrambling to gather your things and finish your coffee- the liquid, once steaming, was almost cold now. With a sigh, you set down the cup and looked up at Geto.

Geto looked back with concern in his eyes, his dark brow furrowing slightly. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just… remembered I have a meeting I absolutely can't miss," you explained apologetically. "This completely slipped my mind…" It was your club meeting, and today you were supposed to propose the club budget for the upcoming semester.

Geto nodded in understanding, although there was something akin to disappointment in his eyes. He was quick to hide it before you could completely decipher it and signalled for the waiter for the check. Just as you reached for your wallet, he held up a hand. "Uh, this is on me. Consider it another apology." He flashed you a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he handed the waiter his metallic card.

You blinked at him, torn between amusement and a touch of bewilderment. Flowers (though originally meant for someone else), coffee, and now even the bill? "Geto, you're apologising a lot," you pointed out, though a teasing smile playing on your lips.

He chuckled, "There just seems to be a lot to apologise for today," he replied, a faint blush creeping up his neck again.

His bashfulness was oddly endearing, and you couldn't help but return his smile. "Maybe save it for the next time, huh?"

Geto held your gaze for a beat longer than necessary, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he chuckled softly. "Next time, huh?" he echoed, mirroring your smile.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you couldn't help but interpret his lingering gaze and repeated ‘next time’ as a hint of… interest, maybe? As you exchanged contact information, a warmth bloomed in your chest. Geto was undeniably intriguing, with his quiet intensity and flashes of awkwardness. Perhaps there will be a next time - a chance to get to know him better. You waved goodbye, a silent hope for a future encounter hanging in the air as you both exited the cafe and stepped into the golden glow of the late afternoon sun.

The rest of the week was a whirlwind. Assignments piled up, deadlines loomed ominously, and sleep became a luxury you barely afforded. The weekend was something you needed badly.

Finally done with your last class for the week, a sigh escaped your lips as you exited the building with Yuta. You waited for Maki to join you as you adjusted the strap of your backpack, feeling the familiar weight of your textbooks pressing down.

Yuta, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder, spotted Maki approaching in the distance. His smile faded as quickly as it appeared, and he nudged you with his elbow. "Uh-oh, looks like someone's not happy.”

You followed his gaze and couldn't help but chuckle. Maki was indeed sporting a scowl that could curdle milk.

As she approached, you noticed a glint of something akin to fury in her eyes. "What are you laughing about?" she demanded, her voice clipped.

"Nothing, nothing," you reassured her, shaking your head. "How were your classes?" you asked, hoping to distract her from the anger, but it turns out the classes were the reason for her displeasure.

Maki crossed her arms, her scowl deepening. "Don't even ask," she muttered. "That idiot professor should be thanking his lucky stars murder is illegal. The man doesn't teach – he rambles! And then expects us to decipher enough from his incoherent ramblings to do well on the assignments."

This piqued your curiosity. Maki wasn't one to get flustered easily. In fact, you'd always admired her calm demeanour, even under pressure. But this professor, whoever it was, had pushed her buttons. You opened your mouth to ask more about it, but Maki abruptly turned to Yuta, her anger seemingly forgotten.

"We're still on for today, right?" she asked, a hint of hope peeking through the remnants of her scowl.

"Absolutely," Yuta confirmed, a small smile playing on his lips.

Maki's scowl vanished completely, replaced by a playful grin. "Can't wait to crush you at bowling again, Yuta."

Honestly? You wouldn't be surprised. Maki was undoubtedly skilled, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Yuta might be throwing off his game a little – just to see that smile light up Maki's face whenever she scored. It was sweet- an unspoken dynamic that warmed your heart.

The afternoon melted away in a flurry of strikes and the sound of the bowling ball hitting the pins. Your shoulders strained with each successful strike, and the dim lighting pulsed a little brighter with each frame completed. You watched with a grin as Maki demolished her final set, securing first place with triumph. Yuta, the gracious competitor, conceded second place with a playful jab at her skills.

By the time Inumaki joined your group mid-game, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting fiery streaks of orange and purple across the sky. Laughter and friendly banter filled the air as you exited the bowling alley, the aroma of french fries and soda pops clinging to your clothes. The four of you stood by the intersection, ready to leave for home.

"Aren't you going home?" Maki called out, noticing you lingering at the intersection.

You shook your head, "No, I was thinking of going to the library. Got an assignment due soon."

"Want some company?" Yuta offered, Inumaki nodded his agreement behind him. Appreciation warmed your chest, but you knew you needed to focus.

"Thanks, but I think I'll be alright. Shouldn't take long anyway."

Finally waving goodbye to your friends, you made your way towards the library, your backpack slung over your shoulder. The semester was about to end, and the weight of the assignments and upcoming exams pressed down on you, but you were determined to conquer those deadlines and do well in your exams.

As you crossed a familiar cafe, a fleeting thought of Geto flickered across your mind. Despite exchanging numbers, there had been no message, no follow-up. A small pang of... what was it exactly? Disappointment? Sadness…?

You shook your head as you entered the elevator, focusing on making it to the library. There was no room for distractions, not right now.

So, you pushed the thought away with a mental shove, a futile attempt to silence the unexpected flutter in your chest. The joy of spending time with your friends had evaporated, replaced by a low hum of disappointment that gnawed at your usual optimism.

Stepping out of the elevator and into the library, you were met with the comforting hush of turning pages, the smell of books and the rhythmic tick-tock of the grandfather clock. You scanned the room, heading straight for your usual table, a worn wooden sanctuary nestled in a quiet corner.

But your sanctuary was no longer yours. Sprawled across the surface were textbooks, and occupying your usual chair was a familiar face. Surprise shot through you- you were thinking about him just moments ago, and here he was, in all his glory.

Geto sat there, his hair styled in a slightly messy half-up, half-down that sent a smile tugging at your lips. His glasses perched low on his nose, and a part of you wanted to reach out and push them back up a little for him. The familiar glint in his dark eyes, a glint that held a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher, sent a wave of unexpected comfort through you. He seemed completely engrossed in his book, oblivious to your presence.

For a moment, you hesitated. You didn't want to disturb him - he seemed so peaceful, lost in the world of his book. But perhaps you were staring for a little too long because Geto looked up as if sensing your presence. Recognition flashed on his face as he raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You smiled at him as a way of greeting. "You seem to be very comfortable in my seat," you said, a hint of amusement dancing in your voice.

His eyes met yours, a mischievous glint mirroring your own. "Your seat? I thought this was a public library," he replied, his long, slender…pretty fingers pushing his glasses up his nose with a smile as he took you in. Did you just find his hands attractive? Internally, you scolded yourself for getting flustered.

“Uh-huh, but I usually sit there,” you said, trying to sound firm, but your smile betrayed you. Seeing Geto here, unexpected as it was, eased a tension you hadn't realised you were carrying.

"Well, too bad I'm here today," he chuckled, gesturing to the seat next to him while efficiently removing some of his belongings. "But you're welcome to take this one." You shook your head in defeat, but a small smile played on your lips. Taking the offered seat, a sigh left your lips at the familiar comfort the wooden chain provided.

"What's so special about this seat, anyway?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"It's like my little corner," you explained, gesturing towards the window. "The view is amazing – a perfect distraction when my studies get overwhelming. Plus, with my back to the rest of the library, it's easier to ignore the world and just… focus."

The city lights shined below, a tapestry of twinkling points gradually emerging against the fading hues of orange and purple that lingered from the recently set sun. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional wail of sirens created a low hum that was strangely comforting. A sense of peace settled over you, the world outside softening into a gentle blur compared to the focused intensity in Geto's eyes as he looked out the window.

"All the reasons why I love this spot," he said with a knowing smile. Something flickered in his dark eyes as he turned to you, but it was gone before you could even name it. His voice softened as he leaned back in his chair. "Assignment due soon?" he asked.

You nodded as you reached into your bag, pulling out a stack of blank sheets and a handful of pencils. "It's for my elective," you explained. "Graphic Designing. I was just hoping to brainstorm a basic structure before diving into the project."

"And you prefer paper for it...?" Geto asked, a hint of curiosity lacing his voice as his brows furrowed, a small ‘v’ forming between his eyebrows. You couldn't blame him, most people preferred using their tablet for such things.

"I prefer planning on sheets of paper," you explained, tapping one pencil against the table in a thoughtful rhythm. "Somehow, it feels less restricting and allows the ideas to flow more freely. There's something about the immediacy of sketching, the scratch of lead on paper, that feels more personal. It's like the idea goes straight from my mind to my hand.”

Geto nodded in understanding. His expression turned thoughtful as he said, "Maybe that's why I prefer physical books over e-readers. There's a different kind of connection you form with the material, wouldn't you agree?” There was a sincerity in his voice that resonated with you, and you nodded in reply, beaming at him.

Maybe you were imagining things, but it felt as if Geto shifted a little towards you, leaning in slightly.

You took in the books in front of him- most of the titles were related to philosophy and ethics, but one particular book caught your eye. You raised an eyebrow, as you looked towards the man beside you. "Business, huh? Unexpected choice, Geto.” You teased him lightly.

Something changed in Geto's expression the moment you mentioned the business book. It became guarded - distant - a mask falling into place. "Yeah, I am expected to join my family's business- a pharmaceutical company, so I was just doing a little reading," he said, his voice clipped.

You wanted to ask more, but something in his tone told you not to do so - that he would tell you when the time was right. So, you didn't push further, instead focusing on creating a structure for your assignment

You grabbed your pencil, and in the corner of your eye, you saw Geto push his AirPods case towards you. You lifted an eyebrow, a silent question. He gave a small smile, a hint of his previous ease returning. "It's just some music," he explained, popping one of the earbuds in his ear. "Might help you concentrate."

"Thanks, Geto," you said, a genuine smile spreading across your face. You took the other earbud, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest at the unexpected gesture.

Every now and then, as you reached for a different pencil or adjusted your sheets, your elbow would brush against Geto's. The contact was brief, just a feather-light graze, yet it sent a little spark through you that you quickly dismissed as waves of concentration.

The soft touches, fleeting as they were, felt strangely intimate in the quiet library. They were a subtle reminder of the presence beside you, a grounding force that anchored you in the moment.

Soon, you found yourself completely absorbed in your design. Ideas flowed from your mind onto the paper, fueled by the calming music and the quiet hum of the library. You lost track of time, the world shrinking to just you, the paper, and the pencil in your hand. Before you knew it, you had created a framework, something that satisfied you with its potential.

You stole a glance at Geto, his brow furrowed in concentration as he took down some notes from his book. Feeling your gaze, he lifted his head, a gentle smile gracing his lips. The soft melody playing through the AirPods had faded out without you noticing, leaving a hush that descended upon the library. You could now hear the faint tick of the clock with each passing second and the distant hum of fluorescent lights.

"You done?" He asked softly, his voice barely a murmur. you nodded, afraid to break the comfortable quietness of the library.

"Can I see?" His question held a genuine curiosity that tugged at a corner of your heart. A wave of self-consciousness washed over you, your cheeks burning as you looked down at your creation. The jumbled mess of lines and shapes sprawled across the page – a chaotic storm of ideas only you could decipher... yet.

"Honestly," you blurted out, your voice barely audible, "it's a bit of a mess right now. Just a tangle of ideas only I can understand. But I promise, once it's finished, I'd love to show it to you."

The flicker of disappointment that crossed Geto's features at your refusal was quickly replaced by a spark of anticipation. His brows lifted slightly, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Sure, I would love that too," Geto said, his eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. It felt like he was searching for something – solving a puzzle you didn't understand.

Soon enough, he looked away, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a familiar guardedness as he started packing his things. "Are you ready to leave? It's getting late," he began, but then he added, "We could stay if you have something else to do."

You shook your head, a wave of accomplishment washing over you. You could feel a satisfied smile tugging at your lips - the day had gone well. You stretched a little, "No, no, I'm done - we can leave now," you said, gathering your things. When you were done, you met Geto's gaze, facing him completely as you stood up.

A flicker of concern marred his expression as he leaned in slightly. "You got something..." His eyes narrowed, fixated on the side of your cheek. Before you could react, his fingers reached up with unexpected tenderness, brushing away something invisible. His touch was light as a feather, his thumb strangely comforting as it grazed your cheek, sending a spark dancing across your skin – a feeling entirely separate from the cool night air that drifted in through the library window.

You froze, surprised by the sudden intimacy of the gesture. It wasn't just the touch – the silence in the library, broken only by the faint ticks of the clock, and the cool night air whispering secrets through the window, all conspired to amplify the feel of his fingers on your face. A stand of his hair fluttered slightly, as his gaze was fixed on the side of your face. He seemed utterly focused, almost like he was performing a delicate operation requiring his full attention.

A warmth bloomed on your cheek, spreading like wildfire as Geto smirked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. His thumb lingered for a beat longer than necessary, almost as if he was afraid to let go – scared this moment wouldn't come back again.

Finally, with a slow reluctance, he pulled away, glancing down at the dark smudge on his thumb. "Graphite," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. You nodded, still a little dazed by the touch.

"Come on, it's getting late. I'll walk you home," Geto said, his voice soothing.

A mixture of surprise and a secret thrill fluttered through you. "You don't have to do that, Geto," you mumbled, as you grabbed your backpack. You were about to sling it over your shoulder, but Geto gently took it from your hand, carrying it for you.

"But I want to," he said firmly, "Unless you don't want me to – then that's a different story." He added with a playful glint in his eyes.

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I mean," you said, trying to sound casual, "I wouldn't mind having a bodyguard for a while." Your gaze, perhaps a little bolder than intended, flickered down his form. The way his loose shirt stretched hinted at the lean muscle beneath. You could tell he had a strong body, despite the baggy clothes he wore.

A throat cleared, snapping your attention back to his face. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realised you'd been caught staring. "Shall we leave now?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze for a moment longer. The walk home promised to be interesting, filled with unspoken words and a newfound awareness simmering between you.

You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled on a pair of comfy jeans and your favourite oversized sweater. The mountain of assignments was conquered, the exams aced (well, mostly aced), and ten glorious days of freedom stretched before you. Sure, you might have unintentionally sacrificed three of those days to blissful hibernation in bed, recovering from the mental marathon, but that was neither here nor there. Today, fueled by a renewed sense of purpose, you were determined to visit one of your favourite places – the little library tucked away about fifteen minutes from your house.

The bus ride was filled with the rhythmic rumble of the engine and the quiet murmur of fellow passengers. As you disembarked at the nearest stop, a wave of cool autumn air washed over you, washing away the warmth of the bus. The crispness hinted at the changing season, with the shadows of clouds lengthening across the sky and a gentle rumble promising a possible afternoon shower. The five-minute walk to the library was a familiar one, your feet almost on autopilot as they navigated the well-worn path.

A smile crept onto your face as the quaint building came into view. You'd stumbled upon it quite by accident one rainy afternoon, seeking refuge from the downpour. Back then, the sight of the small, unassuming structure – shrouded in the twilight and slick with rain – had caused a flicker of hesitation. Who in their right mind would just enter such a place? But then, an inexplicable pull had drawn you closer, urging you to push open the weathered wooden door.

Stepping inside that day had been one of the best decisions of your life. The library, if you could even call it that, was an explosion for the senses. The warm aroma of aged paper and leather books mingled with the earthy scent of potted plants that lined the shelves and window sills. The entire place was a symphony of wood – the floorboards creaked softly under your weight, the bookshelves stretched high towards the ceiling, and carved wooden beams crisscrossed overhead. But the most captivating feature was the large, floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the bustling street outside.

Here's the twist: the window wasn't quite what it seemed. From the outside, it appeared opaque, a carefully crafted illusion that shielded the library's interior from prying eyes. It offered a sense of sanctuary, a hidden haven for true lovers of literature. But step inside, and the window transformed into a crystal-clear portal, offering a glimpse of the outside world while preserving the library's atmosphere.

But there was something else entirely about the place. It felt as if the library itself possessed a subtle sentience. It exuded a quiet, welcoming aura for those it deemed worthy – a gentle tug on the heartstrings, a barely-there whisper that beckoned you closer. Yet, for those who weren't meant to enter, the library remained stubbornly opaque. To them, it was just another unremarkable building on the bustling street, easily overlooked and forgotten. The library held its secrets close, revealing them only to those who held a genuine love for literature.

The real secret of the library, however, wasn't its charming ambience or clever window. Nestled amongst the shelves were rare copies of forgotten texts, first editions of literary masterpieces, and obscure volumes on a variety of topics. Here, within these walls, resided stories waiting to be rediscovered, knowledge waiting to be unearthed.

The library, you mused, operated on an unspoken trust system. Another twist about this hidden place? Everyone returned the books they borrowed, or so the whispers went. No matter how rare and valuable the books were, people always returned them.

You flashed a smile to the small, old man sitting behind the desk by the door. His hair was the colour of moonlight. Age had etched a map of wrinkles across his face, each line seeming to hold a story waiting to be told. You assumed he was the owner – a collector with a love for written words twinkling in his old, experienced eyes. Perhaps he was a custodian of knowledge, eager to share it with those who held a similar reverence.

You made your way through the different sections. Your fingers trailed across the spines of the books, each title a whispered promise of adventure, knowledge, or escape. You paused at a shelf labelled "Forgotten Tales," drawn in by the faded lettering and the air of mystery it exuded. All the titles sparked your imagination- whispering promises of something great - an escape.

One particular book with a faded green leather cover and gold filigree snagged your attention. The title and the description hinted at a fantastical world you yearned to explore. With a satisfied smile, you flipped it open, the scent of aged paper and forgotten stories filled your senses.

As you neared the end of the book, you felt a brush against your fingers. A library card, tucked snugly in the back pocket, threatened to fall out. Curiosity bubbled up, and you carefully retrieved the card, smoothing out the worn edges. Your gaze scanned down the list of previous borrowers.

Then, there it was, nestled at the bottom, the latest entry – the name of the man who occupied a significant space in your thoughts, the name that had been a part of almost all your thoughts lately.

Suguru Geto.

When you first found the bouquet with the apology card, you thought the name sounded familiar. Now, as you held the library card, you realised why. Geto's name had been a recurring presence, etched onto the library card of almost every book you'd borrowed from this place.

Intrigued and a touch bewildered, you clutched the book tighter. Surely, it couldn't be your Suguru. But the name wasn't common, and given the conversations you'd shared and the connection you felt with him, you wouldn't be surprised if this Suguru and your Suguru were the same.

You tried to imagine him reading the book, and the image flowed into your mind with startling clarity. You saw Suguru, brows furrowed in a familiar crease of concentration, his glasses perched low on his nose as he leaned into the text. Completely absorbed, his long, slender fingers would trace the words on the page, lingering on a line that particularly intrigued him before carefully turning the page. A picture of meticulousness, he might even reach for a pen, but you knew it wouldn't be to mar the book itself. Instead, he'd jot down notes on a separate sheet, preserving the book for its future readers.

Yeah, you wouldn't be surprised if this Suguru and your Suguru were the same.

You approached the desk, the book clutched in your hand. The old man looked up from his ledger. His gaze was kind, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling further as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You placed the book on the counter, the worn leather cover whispering its secrets. He asked for your name, picked up a well-inked pen and with practised ease, began inscribing your name on the library card of the book. As he finished, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the list of previous borrowers. Suguru Geto's name still held its prominent place.

The old man met your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, a knowing glint flickered in his pale eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, so you almost dismissed it, attributing it to the play of light filtering through the window. Yet, a shiver danced down your spine, leaving goosebumps prickling your skin.

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely a whisper. The old man simply smiled, a hint of something deeper lurking in his expression. He handed you the book, his fingers accidentally brushing against yours- the touch cold, but not strange.

Leaving the library felt different this time. The autumn air held a sharper tang, the world outside more vibrant. A shy smile played on your lips, a secret bloom hidden amongst the vibrant tapestry of the world. This wasn't just about the book, the library, or even Suguru himself. It was about a feeling, a nascent awareness that had blossomed within you, painting the world in shades you never knew existed. The book in your arms felt like a bridge, another connection to Suguru Geto.

The post-semester break was gone, and a new semester had begun, but the usual thrill of diving into his course was muted. That didn’t mean Geto wasn’t looking forward to it- He had never been this excited about college.

Geto found himself fidgeting in his seat in the class, his mind wandering to the corner table of the cafe where he'd met you just weeks ago. The thirty minutes of conversation with you felt like a lifetime compared to the two, frustrating months he had spent with his ex-girlfriend. There was electricity in your presence, a spark, and Geto felt like a moth, drawn to it. And here he was- checking his phone every few minutes, hoping for a message.

His professor’s words faded into the background as he found himself thinking about your spot in the library, where he last met you. He had a book propped open in front of him then, but the words blurred before his eyes. How could he concentrate anyways, when you were right next to him, offering the best distraction?

There you were, sitting on the chair, brow furrowed in concentration as you drew. The rhythmic scratching of your pencil against the paper accompanied the music flowing in his ear. Your hair cascaded down one side of your face, momentarily obscuring your features.

You were completely absorbed in your work, and Geto was completely mesmerised by you- a captivating scene he couldn't tear his gaze from. He felt as if you were a world away from him, but at the same time, he felt an inexplicable closeness, as if he were witnessing something intimate- a glimpse into your soul.

He dared a few stolen glances at your drawing. The network of lines and shapes didn't quite make sense to him. But a strange sense of contentment washed over him. It was alright- he was willing to wait - wait till he understood you enough to understand those drawings - to unravel the mysteries you presented, one conversation, one shared moment at a time.

The semester break brought a flurry of messages, a stream of random thoughts and experiences. It began with you sending your finished assignment, the same one where you'd been sketching in the library. The framework that had initially puzzled him now held a glimmer of meaning.

Your designs were bold and innovative, and a surge of pride, unexpected and unfamiliar, filled him. You thanked him for his "help," but the sentiment felt misplaced. He hadn't truly helped. However, the thought of being there for you, in whatever way he could, fueled a new kind of excitement, a yearning to be a part of your world, a world that seemed to hold a secret melody waiting to be played.

The shrill bell jerked Geto from his thoughts, marking the end of the period. He shoved his books into his bag with a sigh, enduring the usual barrage of small talk from his classmates, smiling at them and trying to be polite, before making his escape. A familiar mop of white hair came into view just outside the classroom, a grin stretched wide across Satoru's face.

"Seriously, how are you already here?" Geto asked, trying to muster irritation, though he was happy at the sight of his best friend.

The blue-eyed man just shrugged. "Shoko has some extra work, so she won’t be there for lunch today," he said.

Satoru leaned in conspiratorially, his elbow finding Geto's shoulder, resting on them. "Now, tell me, Suguru. Anything exciting happened during your break besides missing your charming best friend?"

Geto couldn't help but chuckle as they made their way towards the cafeteria, the sound of chatter and occasional bursts of laughter filling their ears. The sweet aroma of the campus bakery greeted them, and Geto had to restrain Satoru before he could make his way towards the bakery. He pulled on Satoru's collar, steering him away from the bakery.

The dark-haired man pinched the bridge of his nose, a concerned sigh escaping his lips. "Hold on there, Satoru," Geto said, his voice firm. "You are not buying sweets right now- not before having a proper meal or something."

Satoru hasn’t been well for the past couple of months, which was far different from his usual boundless energy. Geto knew the culprit: Satoru's diet, which, well, consisted of desserts and sweets rather than a balanced meal plan. His best friend treated sugary treats like they were sustenance, and the lack of proper nutrients was taking its toll.

Satoru's eyes widened in mock protest, and he pouted, but a playful glint hinted at his underlying acceptance of Geto's nagging.

After making sure his best friend wouldn’t buy sweets, Geto left Satoru to get them some food, as the blue-eyed man looked for an empty table. He balanced the lunch tray in his hands as he navigated through the bustling cafeteria, spotting Satoru sitting on a corner table. Setting down his and Satoru's lunch on the table, Geto collapsed into the faded plastic seat. As he passed the sandwich to his friend, his head lifted on autopilot, his gaze drawn magnetically towards the cafeteria doors.

There you were, a burst of sunshine amidst the sea of faces. You were laughing, the sound of a melody that washed over him, light and infectious. He couldn't quite catch the joke - something the guy with the black hair or the girl with the green hair said. But it didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was you, head tilted back, the carefree joy radiating from every inch of you.

Suguru couldn't help but smile as he watched you. A lightness, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a while, bubbled up within him. Just then, a voice cut through his thoughts.

"That's her, huh?" Satoru asked, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Geto's head snapped back so fast it almost gave him whiplash. He hadn't confided in Satoru about you yet, the whirlwind of emotions still swirling within him. Satoru must have seen the shocked expression plastered on his face because he leaned back with a smirk.

"Come on, Suguru," he chuckled. "We've been friends since diapers. I don't need a crystal ball to know what's going on."

Geto flushed, realising he was indeed an open book to his best friend. "Great," he muttered, more to himself than Satoru. He was going to be teased endlessly now.

Satoru's grin widened, his dimples deepening. "Oh, and Shoko knows too, I am twenty bucks richer thanks to you. We made a little bet, you know." Satoru winked.

Geto groaned, burying his face in his hands for a dramatic beat. He wasn't hiding anything, not intentionally. He just needed some time to untangle the jumble of emotions you ignited within him. His friends, however, seemed to be a few steps ahead. Stealing a peek through his fingers, he saw you settling down at a table nearby. Relief washed over him – at least he could still admire you from a safe distance.

Across from you sat a girl with vibrant green hair, and next to you was a guy with hair the colour of faded snow, similar to Satoru's. The black-haired guy occupied the seat next to the girl. Geto watched you interact with your friends, a warmth spreading through him as you effortlessly weaved between jokes and stories. Then, you reached into your bag, pulling out something.

It was a book.

A very familiar book.

He could practically feel the worn green leather cover beneath his fingers, and smell the faint scent of aged paper, even though you were the one holding it. This specific edition, with its unique gold filigree and slightly chipped spine, was only available from one library – a place he'd stumbled upon quite by accident.

His gaze darted to Satoru, gauging his friend's reaction. Sure enough, Satoru sported a smug grin, the traitor muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Whipped already." Geto rolled his eyes. College student, whipped? Please.

He turned his gaze back to you, but a jolt of surprise shot through him. Dark pairs of eyes stared back at him - they weren’t your eyes, though.

The girl with the green hair peeled her eyes away from Geto and turned them back to you to say something, her eyebrows raised in amusement. A frown marred your face at your friend’s words before you turned your head enough to face Geto. The frown melted into a surprised smile as your eyes met his. And then, you waved. A small wave, but a wave nonetheless.

Suguru felt his cheeks heat up, a warmth spreading from his neck to his hairline as he waved back. He might be in college, for crying out loud, but at that moment, he felt like a middle schooler again, his stomach churning with a mix of nervousness and exhilaration.

You held his gaze for a moment – or maybe it was a lifetime – before the guy with the greyish-white hair gently nudged your arm, and the four of you got up to leave.

He looked back at Satoru, whose smug grin stretched from ear to ear. "Not now, Satoru," Geto groaned, holding up a hand. "Let me process this first." He knew he wouldn't hear the end of it, but a tiny spark of hope flickered within him.

It hasn’t even been a week into the new semester, and you were already burdened with a new assignment. So, for this perplexing task, one person sprang to mind: the guy with the ebony hair and charcoal eyes. You'd texted him earlier about the assignment, and now, with a mix of anticipation and nervousness, you approached your usual corner of the library.

There he was, perched in your chair, a relaxed vibe emanating from him. A white t-shirt peeked out from under a black zip-up hoodie, paired with comfortable-looking baggy jeans. The absence of his glasses softened his features, likely replaced with a pair of contacts. He was, unsurprisingly, nose-deep in a book, completely absorbed in its world, just like you'd pictured him reading the book tucked away in your bag.

A hesitant smile tugged at your lips as you approached the table. This time, unlike your first encounter, he seemed to sense your arrival, glancing up with a smile that lit up his face and instantly ignited a warmth in your chest.

Your heart did a little skip-a-beat before your mind intervened with a voice of reason. Maybe that smile was a default setting, a friendly courtesy he extended to everyone. Yes, you two had shared conversations before, and there was a connection you had felt building. But was it enough to break through the barrier of a polite smile?

Before you could drown in such thoughts, Geto's voice cut through them. "Hey," he greeted, a smile playing on his lips. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he added, "Planning to do your assignment standing up?"

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "It's a little hard to sit when someone else is occupying my chair," you teased playfully, nudging him gently as you attempted to squeeze into the space beside him.

Geto chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "I thought we talked about this whole 'your chair' thing?" he said, the smile still lingering on his face. You shook your head playfully.

Reaching into your bag, you retrieved your laptop and pencil case, the familiar weight grounding you slightly.

Geto followed your movements with his gaze. "So," he asked, leaning back slightly, "what's this assignment all about?" He seemed genuinely interested, and your heart again did that little thing.

"The assignment is to analyse two artworks through an ethical lens," you explained, laying out the details for Suguru. "We pick any two and dissect them based on moral implications, the artist's intent, and how they might affect the viewer."

It was an important assignment, worth 30 percent marks for the subject - it consisted of a report submission and a presentation. You were willing to work hard for it and complete it.

Geto nodded along, his brows furrowed in concentration. "Sounds intriguing," he murmured. Internally, a spark of excitement ignited. Maybe you could get a glimpse into Geto’s mind - see how it works.

"Actually, I had a couple of ideas in mind," you said, a hopeful note creeping into your voice. "What about 'Guernica' by Picasso and '12 Angry Men' by Sidney Lumet?" You stole a glance at Suguru, gauging his reaction. "But of course, we can discuss other options if you have any preferences." There was no sense of going with these topics if Suguru wasn’t aware of them.

Suguru surprised you. "Oh, no need," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, "I'm familiar with both." Without further ado, the two of you dove into ‘Guernica’.

You took the lead, dissecting the painting's raw portrayal of suffering. You pointed out the distorted figures, the bleak colour palette, and how it all coalesced to evoke a sense of overwhelming despair. Geto readily agreed, analysing the artwork through a utilitarian lens. "Picasso," he observed, "forces us to confront the immense human cost of war."

"But it's not just the humans, is it?" you countered, your gaze lingering on the image of a horse in the centre, its body contorted in agony. "The way Picasso depicts the animals – the terrified horse, the dead dove – broadens the impact of war's devastation. It forces us to consider the suffering inflicted on innocent creatures caught in the crossfire."

Suguru's brows furrowed in thought. "Excellent point," he conceded, a hint of awe colouring his voice. "The horse can be interpreted in several ways – it can be viewed as a symbol of Spain itself, ravaged by war. The dove, traditionally a symbol of peace, lies lifeless, highlighting the destruction of hope brought about by conflict."

The discussion flowed easily, weaving between the artistic elements of the painting and the deeper philosophical questions it raised. The two of you explored the symbolism, the historical context, and how each element contributed to the overall message of the artwork. The more you delved into "Guernica," the more you realised it wasn't just a depiction of war; it was a powerful indictment of its inhumanity, a plea for peace, and a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Next, you shifted gears, tackling Sidney Lumet's "12 Angry Men." You highlighted the film's claustrophobic setting of the jury room, emphasising how it served to intensify the ethical debate and forced character development within the confined space. Suguru built upon your point, drawing a parallel between the jury room and a microcosm of societal justice. He explained how the film, through its close-ups and shifting camera angles, explored the characters' internal struggles with prejudice, reasonable doubt, and the crucial importance of open-mindedness during the deliberation process.

"Lumet's masterful use of camerawork is particularly noteworthy," You elaborated, remembering the lessons from your class. "Notice how he employs wide shots at the beginning, establishing the initial hostility and division within the jury. But as the discussion progresses, the camera zooms in on individual faces, capturing the emotional shifts and the gradual erosion of preconceived notions."

As the discussion flowed, a surprising synergy emerged between you and Suguru. Your artistic background provided a vivid understanding of the emotional core of the works, painting a picture with words that resonated deeply with Suguru's philosophical analysis. He, in turn, added depth to your interpretations, weaving a tapestry of ethical considerations that transcended the canvas and resonated with the complexities of the real world.

The afternoon melted away, fueling discussions about the artworks. Your hands brushed against Geto a few times, as you tried to point at something on the screen or as he reached for a pencil to help with your notes. Warmth crept through you every time, but you ignored the feeling, choosing to focus on your assignment.

Suguru's insights provided a fresh perspective, a new lens through which to view the artworks, and a thrill of discovery shot through you. Gazing at your notes, filled with your combined observations, a contented smile played on your lips. The satisfaction wasn't just from a job well done- you were mesmerised to see how Suguru’s mind worked, and the depth of his knowledge.

The sun dipped below the library windows, casting long shadows across the tables, filling the space in shades of peaches and amethyst. Gathering your notes and laptop, you realised how much time had flown by. "Wow," you remarked, surprised by the lateness of the hour. "This was... a lot of fun."

Suguru mirrored your smile, a hint of amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. "Why, you expected something else?" he countered, a playful lilt to his voice, but beneath it, you detected a flicker of concern. Was he worried you hadn't enjoyed yourselves?

"Of course not," you teased, returning his smile. "It’s hard to be disappointed when it comes to you" A light blush crept up his cheeks at your honesty.

He began stacking his books, a thoughtful pause settling between you. "So," he continued, casually slinging his bag over his shoulder, "how about we grab some coffee before heading back?" His voice held a hint of nervousness.

"Sure, I'd love that," you replied, a genuine smile warming your face. Suguru's smile widened in response, and then, in a move that surprised you both, he extended a hand towards you.

Your gaze flickered up to meet his, the surprise you felt mirroring in his dark eyes. It was as if his hand had acted on its own accord. But the surprise quickly melted away, replaced by a flicker of confidence – and perhaps even a spark of hope.

You accepted his gesture, your hand slipping into his. The touch sent a wave of comfort through you. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to the coolness of the library air. There was a comforting solidity to it, a silent invitation that extended beyond the confines of the assignment. For a blissful moment, you wished you could hold onto that feeling forever.

Together, you exited the library, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. By unspoken agreement, you found yourselves heading towards the familiar cafe where you'd first met. Suguru pulled out the chair for you and helped you settle into the chair before making his way towards his chair. After you placed the order, Suguru surprised you by bringing up the presentation format.

"You still have to work on that, right?" he inquired casually.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "but I think it'll be pretty straightforward after all our work."

"Absolutely," Suguru agreed, offering a reassuring smile. "Still, if you need help finalising it, don't hesitate to let me know." His words were laced with a genuine concern that warmed your heart. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done enough- as if he didn’t just spend his entire afternoon with you to help with your assignment.

"But Geto," you protested, "you've already done so much. The analysis itself was practically a seminar, thanks to you."

Suguru chuckled- a soft sound that sent shivers down your spine. "No worries about that," he reassured you, his dark eyes holding a sincerity that left you speechless. "Honestly, I had a great time too."

The waiter arrived with your order, setting it before the two of you, the smell of coffee and choco-chip muffin filling your nostrils. You grabbed your cup, sipping the warm liquid, when Suguru started, his cup in his hand, “I am curious,” he began, “Why didn’t you choose that book for the assignment?”

He didn’t need to elaborate further - You knew which book he was talking about. “Oh, it didn’t make sense to select that book, though I wanted to.” You took another sip of your coffee as you continued, “Honestly, I don’t think people would be familiar with the work, my professor included, and I didn’t want to risk losing marks,” you explained.

Suguru nodded in reply. Curiosity gnawed at you. “How did you find that library, Geto?”

Suguru met your gaze, and a genuine smile softened his features. "By mistake, of course," he chuckled. "I was supposed to be at a different place near the building, but I ended up wandering into the library instead; I had read the address wrong." He paused, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "Spent hours there before I even realised it. When I finally came out, it was dark."

The memory seemed to bring him amusement, and he let out a light laugh. "What about you?" he asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

You recounted your own experience of that rainy evening. Suguru listened intently as you painted a picture with your words.

Soon, the coffee was gone and the muffins had disappeared, victims of your lively conversation. Suguru reached into his pocket to settle the bill, but this time you were quicker. With a playful smile, you beat him to it, placing some bills on the table before he could protest.

He chuckled, his features softening. "Looks like the roles are reversed today," he conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender, causing you to laugh.

Finally, as the two of you made your way out of the cafe, Suguru surprised you again. "I'd like to walk you home," he offered, his voice sincere. The offer was tempting - it was a chance to prolong the time spent by his side, even if it was just for a moment.

But a part of you hesitated. He'd already done so much, dedicating a significant portion of his afternoon to helping you out.

As if sensing your internal conflict, Suguru spoke again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I want to," he reiterated, his gaze holding a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. "Besides, I live nearby."

A slow smile spread across your face as you gave in, not that you opposed it, to begin with. "Alright," you agreed, "Let's go."

The walk home was filled with unspoken emotions, the comfortable silence punctuated only by the rhythmic tap of your shoes against the pavement. With each step, the streetlights seemed to blur, the world shrinking to the space you shared with Suguru. Every brush of your hands, accidental or not, sent warmth coursing through you, a delicious tingle that left you breathless. His touch, when it happened, was a revelation.

Soon, too soon, you were facing the entrance of your apartment, Suguru standing beside you. You wanted to extend this moment, to make time slow down somehow. You turned to face him, to look into his eyes, hoping to see a glimmer of what you felt in his eyes too.

Before you could meet his eyes, a sudden gust of wind whipped around you, a playful villain stealing your breath and tossing your hair into a frenzy. Instinctively, you reached up to tame the strands, but Suguru's hand appeared beside yours before your fingers could graze a single lock.

Time seemed to slow as his fingers brushed your cheekbone, moving the hair and tucking it behind your ear, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

But that wasn't all. His touch lingered a feather-light caress that sent goosebumps cascading across your skin. Slowly, oh so slowly, his hand travelled down the length of your hair, his fingers gently combing through the stray strand. The sensation was electric, a current that arced from the point of contact, igniting every nerve ending in its path.

His touch lingered at the ends of your hair, a whisper of a promise against your skin. Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs, a drumbeat echoing the turmoil within you. You wanted to pull away, to retreat from the dangerous territory his touch had ignited. But a stronger force, a current far more powerful than reason, held you rooted to the spot.

You met his gaze, your breath catching in your throat. His dark eyes were pools of molten dark chocolate, swirling with unspoken emotions that mirrored your own. A hunger flickered in their depths, a hunger that both terrified and exhilarated you.

The unforgiving wind blew again, causing Suguru to blink, and the moment was gone. The hunger you saw in his eyes was no longer there, and you were questioning yourself- maybe you were imagining it. But then you saw the way his chest rose and fell, the slight flush on top of his cheeks and the way his hands were touching you. 

No, it wasn’t your imagination.

Suguru carefully retracted his hand, “Here we are,” he said, his voice hoarse. He was affected as much as you were.

“Here we are,” you echoed, too lost to think of anything else.

Finally, Suguru cleared his throat, the sound breaking the spell. "Well," he began, his voice hesitant, "I guess I should…"

He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. His gaze flickered to your lips for a fleeting moment, a spark of desire igniting within its depths before it was quickly extinguished.

"Yeah," you whispered, the word catching in your throat. Neither of you wanted the night to end, yet neither of you dared to suggest otherwise.

Suguru offered a ghost of a smile, a bittersweet farewell that mirrored the emotions swirling within you. "See you in college, then?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

See you in college? That’s it? Come on Suguru, say something more than that. Offer something more than that. But you didn’t say what you wanted to say, just repeated his words.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely audible. "See you in college."

“Please let me know whenever you start on the presentation format. I would love to help you with that - whenever that is” he said, voice still low, but it was dripping with sincerity - honesty - as if he wanted it more than you did.

You could only nod, but that was enough for him, it seemed.

With a final, lingering look, Suguru turned and walked away, his retreating figure swallowed by the darkness. As you watched him go, an ache settled in your chest.

a/n: Okay so it's here! The first chapter for my first series! Honestly this idea has been brewing in my head for over a month now and I am so glad to finally share it.

I hope you liked it, please let me know what you thought about it, feedbacks are always welcome! xo

@shiin-ye @whereflowerswenttodie @nakariabnrb

Dividers: @/benkeibear @/cafekitsune @/saradika-graphics

[alovember]

Idiots to lovers speedrun

[alexotls]

college au belated 4/20 special ft. massimo volpe

[barbwillbrb]

doodled some modern Rolan based on a text post by @barbiewritesstuff and a comment from @lemonsrosesandlavender

I agree he's a worn-out PHD student, and as someone who works in higher ed. I felt obligated to sketch this out. So here's Rolan in an "off-to-class" fit, a teaching/lecturer fit, and at-home study/TA grading papers fit (featuring Myshka because of course PHD student Rolan needs a cat). While I think he's normally very put-together at class/work, he's in full-on comfy mode when studying at home so he can curl up somewhere and get work done. Mug inspo from @sensitive-shark

I think he is both a coffee and tea drinker (and even will drink the occasional energy drink if he really, really needs to stay awake, although I am totally projecting from my senior year-- he gives "will forgo sleep for perfection in school/work" vibes).

Posted both glasses/no glasses version. Someday I will evolve beyond flat colors in digital art but for the sake of my sanity that is not this day.

[sungiejpg]

WHO ARE U?; HAECHAN [smau]

chapter 06: sylvanians

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ pairings: haechan x f!reader

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ tags: college au, smau, fake acc

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ synopsis: when renjun asked her to create a fake twitter acc to take revenge on haechan she did not expect to fall in love

𓂃before | 𓂃next

[onlylowercase]

College AU

[emmster]

Reposting my old Dinbo art and Obitine because it’s been a year since this ship became more of a reality

[georgiedoodles]

📚Broppy CollegeAU | "Campus Days"

Part 7: Picnic Lunch

Tuesday, Week 4 of 16

This was a particularly special day for the college. Once a semester, the students who had botany classes or were members of the gardening club hosted a nursery day on campus. In front of the school’s cafeteria was a large quad, accompanied by tall, lush trees that shaded the grass. The event took place on this quad, it was popular for all kinds of affairs, including festivals and college orientations. On this day, the quad held the botany students’ nurseries, where they sold flowers, vegetables, seeds, and fruits that were all grown in the campus garden. It buzzed with life, and of course, Poppy had to be a part of it.

At the beginning of class, the professor was in the process of giving his lecture when his phone rang. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket to mute when he noticed who was calling him.

“Oh- excuse me, everyone, I must take this call. It’s my wife.” He sheepishly said, quietly hushing everyone while he stepped outside the classroom. Immediately, Poppy turns to Branch.

“BRANCH” Her voice boomed, Branch was startled and held his chest to feel his heart race, “YES, Poppy??” His voice cracked; his eyes darted around to see if there was any danger.

“Okay so, outside there is an event and I really want to go. If we have any time after class, can we pleeaasee peek at the booths set up?” She pleaded. Poppy’s hands were clasped under her chin as she pouted, her eyes looked sad as she held her gaze at Branch. All he could do was stare into her eyes and blushed, he couldn’t resist and held eye contact with her. For a moment, Poppy felt butterflies in her stomach, something was aching for more when she kept her eyes on him, almost like she wanted to kiss him again.

Unexpectedly, the professor ran back into the classroom; he was gathering all his belongings when he spoke up again.

“I’m so sorry everyone, I have to dismiss class early, my wife is in labor, and I need to meet her at the hospital!” The professor was frantically resetting the office part of the class for the next professor. When he left, the class cheered for him and congratulated him on his newborn troll.

After the commotion calmed down, all the students gathered their supplies, high-fiving each other for the sudden dismissal. Branch and Poppy had broken their gaze in the beginning, they were startled by the sudden announcement from the professor. Slowly, the two turned back to each other and gave each other a smug smile.

When the pair left their belongings in their locker, they both made their way to the event. Poppy was humming a tune from the movie “In the Heights” and shimmied to the melody. Branch couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, she was swinging her hips in a rhythmic motion, her feet stepped to a familiar choreography. No one else around to see.

“Carnaval del barrio~” She was ahead of Branch, quietly singing the chorus of the song.

“Carnaval del barrio~” She turned around to stop Branch from walking any further, snaked her hands into his, and laced their fingers together. Her singing slowly escalated in volume and sang the acapella.

“Carnaval del barrio~” Poppy swayed her hips side to side with each step. This enticed Branch to join in.

“Carnaval del Barrio~!” Her voice went up a note, she felt him quickly move her left hand on his shoulder and held her by the waist. Branch joined in to sing.

“Alza la bandera la bandera Dominicana~” In unison they sang, Branch mirrored Poppy’s steps and swayed his hips with her, keeping her secure in his grasp.

“Alza la bandera, la bandera Puertorriquena~” He gently spun them both, their bodies were close in contact, and their hips connected.

“Alza la bandera, la bandera Mexicana~” As if the music was playing in real-time, they both continued to sing along. Branch brought Poppy closer to himself, her right leg in between his legs, swaying to the beat. They felt the music in the air.

“Alza la bandera, la bandera-” He dipped her with his right leg once.

“La bandera- “, He dipped her a second time.

“La bandera- “, He dipped her a third time.

“La bandera~”, He dipped her a fourth time, bringing her back up one last time.

“Alza la bandera!” Poppy held Branch’s right hand as she let him spin her, before he tugged her back into his arms, dipping her one last time.

“HEY!” They chanted the last lyric, and the couple stared at each other, out of breath. Poppy was enchanted by this, she never thought that he would join her in the song. Branch took this opportunity and kissed her on her cheek, overlapping the corner of her lips. “I love ‘In the Heights’, it’s one of my favorite musicals.” He grinned, bringing her back up on her feet, and walked away.

Poppy was stunned, Branch had kissed her on the cheek. She felt her cheeks deeply redden and held her hands on her face, feeling the heat radiate off her.

“Are you coming to the event or am I going by myself?” Branch shouted; he was 10 feet away when he realized that she wasn’t moving. This brought Poppy out of her trance, and she faced him.

She smiled and touched the spot he kissed; the feeling of his lips lingered on her skin. “I’m coming~!” In a sing-song voice, she responded, skipping her way next to his side and linked her arm with his, walking together to the quad.

--

Once they were at the quad, they both browsed the booths together. One row had vendors selling all kinds of flowers that ranged from decoration, food, herbs, and spices. On the next row was a lineup of vendors selling makeup and accessories made of dried flowers, one booth caught Poppy’s eyes and she made a B-line to them. When Branch caught up to her, he saw a tent filled with handmade baskets and blankets, they were made using materials on campus, even from the wool of the barn sheep.

Poppy was admiring all the different baskets they made, but Branch had his eyes on a large square blanket. It was a light pink and strawberry color checkered blanket, large enough to sprawl out on if he wished. The texture was dense enough to keep him warm but also keep water from seeping through, the blanket was only half an inch thick.

“I’ll buy this one please.” He waved to the vendor and pulled out his wallet to pay in cash, leaving the leftover to tip. Poppy walked up behind Branch to see what he had bought, only to feel him plop the blanket into her arms, neatly rolled up with a bow to secure it.

“Ohhhh~ This is nice! It feels soft and dense, this would be perfect for a picnic!” She giggled, she rubbed a corner of the blanket in between her fingers to admire the craftmanship.

“It’s for you.” Branch warmly said, he smiled and stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

“Wait what? You bought this for me?” Poppy’s eyes widened at his statement, her heart skipped a beat, and she held the blanket closer to her chest. She seemed unsure and waited for his response.

Branch simply nodded, “Yup, it reminded me of you and your vibrant personality.” A blush crept up on him, his confidence was depleted after that kiss on the cheek he gave her.  

Poppy felt butterflies in her stomach, she was flattered at the gift and now she knew exactly what to do to pay it forward.

She gave him a toothy smile, “Thank you Branch, I know exactly what we can do for lunch!” She excitedly danced in her spot, her feet quickly tapped on the grassy floor of the tent, and she quickly grabbed his hand.

“Thank you!” She beamed at the vendor before she dragged him outside.

 --

Branch was tasked with setting up a spot away from the event. He found a nice, shaded area, it was secluded, and the music could still be heard faintly in the distance. After he laid out the blanket, he sat down in the middle with his shoes off. He listened to the breeze brush the trees and leaned on his hands behind him, he felt relaxed and closed his eyes.

Poppy came to their spot after 10 minutes. She brought chicken katsu bento boxes in a bag, hanging from her left arm, and two sodas in both of her hands. She stopped from a short distance to watch Branch, he was peacefully enjoying the moment, and this was a sight she cherished in her heart. Something about his resting face made her heart beat a bit harder, and the sudden urge to kiss him came up again. Poppy shook her head and mentally kicked herself for thinking of something ridiculous. To keep herself from imagining such scenarios again, she rustled the bag in her arm to bring Branch’s attention to her. Branch opened his eyes and made eye contact with Poppy, he scooted over and patted the spot to his left, it was free from any sun peeking through the leaves.

Quickly, Poppy carefully set down the bag of food and sodas. She sat down to his left, opened the bag to reveal their lunches, and passed his soda to Branch.

“Thank you for the food, you really didn’t have to buy me lunch.” He hummed, slowly opened his bento box, and slipped the chopsticks out of their paper wrapper. Poppy poured her katsu sauce over the meat and opened her canned soda.

“It’s a thank you for the gift, it really means a lot to me that you thought of me Branch.” She smiled and kept her eyes on her food, avoiding eye contact to suppress her urge to kiss the troll again, he just looked so sweet.

Branch looked at her, watching her prepare her food and stuffing the largest piece of chicken in her mouth which made him laugh.

Poppy reacted quickly and stared at Branch, “What’s so funny?” she said with her mouth full, still chewing the meat.

He laughed harder and held his mouth to stop himself. “It’s just- “ He chuckled, “You look like a hamster when they stuff all those seeds in their cheeks!” He stifled his giggle. Poppy rolled her eyes and pouted, she swallowed her food and began, “I do not look like a hamster!! Hmph!” She pouted again, turning her face away from Branch.

His laugh trailed off with a satisfied sigh before he reached over to cup her face. Slowly, Branch brought Poppy to face him again.

“Awe~ It’s just that you looked so cute with your cheeks stuffed with food!” He playfully teased her, squished her face, and smiled at her to cheer her up again. Poppy loosened up quickly and gave him a side smile, she softly pushed his face to hide her flustered cheeks.

Branch giggled and let go of her face, when he looked at her again, he noticed something.

“Hey, wait, you got some sauce on your chin.” Quickly, he used his thumb to wipe the sauce off her face and unintentionally brushed her bottom lip. Poppy froze in her spot, she let him wipe off the sauce and waited for him to turn back to his food. Internally, she was screaming and squealing like a fangirl who saw her bias on stage. She held back the urge to kick her feet and stuffed rice in her mouth again before she squealed externally.

Branch blissfully went back to eat and never saw her reaction.

--

After their lunch, Poppy felt energized and ready to get back to her adventures. On the other hand, Branch felt a food coma kicking in, he was never good at staying awake after a hearty meal. He began to nod off while Poppy went on a rant about the price of paint.

“Hey Poppy, I’m really sorry to cut you off during your rant but-“ He covered his mouth when he yawned, “ I think I’m being hit by a food coma.” Branch patted his stomach and lazily blinked at her. Immediately, Poppy had an idea. She moved further away from Branch and patted her thighs. “You can use me as a pillow if you’re sleepy, I can wake you up before your class starts.” She eagerly said she loved it when her friends slept on her, she felt useful and closer to them, perfect for bonding!

“Thanks, Poppy.” Branch didn’t hesitate and removed his cardigan. Carefully, he laid his head on Poppy’s legs and used his sweater as a blanket. Poppy gently brushed his hair with her fingers, she delicately gave him a head massage and instantly put Branch to sleep.

After 5 minutes, Poppy had gotten lost in thought. She couldn’t help but feel this flame in her heart, she knew that she was developing feelings for her friend. Normally, she would confess right away at the first feeling of affection, but she didn’t want to scare him away. Her fingers traced shapes on his forehead and earned herself a sleepy smile from him.

Her eyes trailed from his hair to his eyes, then to his ears, and finally to his lips. Branch’s mouth was slightly parted. Poppy wondered, ‘What did it feel like to kiss him?’ She remembered the kiss she gave him on the cheek, only she focused on the corner of his lips she ‘accidentally’ felt. She blushed and remembered how soft they felt, she touched her lips and reminisced. Slowly, she leaned down to inch closer to his lips. She hesitated and thought, ‘This is wrong’ Then she moved up to his forehead, gently kissing his temple, letting her lips linger to embrace the feeling.

He smelled amazing, this time he embodied a green apple-like scent, sweet and fresh. She sat back up to enjoy the moment. Time passed and it was finally time to wake up Branch for his next class.

She gently caressed his cheek and softly called his name. He slowly blinked awake and looked up at Poppy, the sunlight made her glow. Butterflies were a constant recurrence to Branch.

“It’s time to wake up sleepy head.”

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[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 31 - The bathroom equation

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 30 -- Part 32

Summary: The guys (and girls) take to the group chats to discuss some serious issues

Warnings: Post contains generalizations. Please don't murder me for that.

Word count: Exactly 3k!!!!

**A/N: **SO! The guys joined me in the shower yesterday (not as sexy as it sounds, unfortunately) and as @geralts-yenn and I had had a discussion about what the house groupchat would look like (including very necessary shadow-group with just the girls, and a group chat with everyone who regularly spends time at that house...) this is what I came up with.

[The guys' chat is 179CS🏡, the girls are 179CS🧠🧠, and the everyone-group is 179CS Full🏡]

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @livisss @sillyrabbit81

@ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos @thelastsock @wa-ni

@proud-aroace-beastie @totalwool

Mike:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Story2cats (@story2cats)

Sherlock: Great, she’s asking me what I’m laughing at.

August: If you value your life, don’t show her.

Sherlock: And if she steals his phone and sees it anyway? Xoxo Elena

Marshall: Paramedics or police?

Charles: Both.

August: Both.

Leon: Both.

Marshall: 👍🏻

Sherlock: They’ll never get here in time 😈

Mike: Nice knowing you, buddy ❤️

Elena: Dani, get your man in line.

Dani: What he do?

Elena: [video]

Ange: I mean…

Sol: He’s not… wrong…

Dani: He sent me that 🙊

Lexi: Is he okay?

Dani: Was he okay to begin with? 😂

Ange: Not that we know of…

Sy: Speaking of showers… We need rules.

Mike: Eh, why?

Sy: Because I was late for my date yesterday.

August: Which is our problem… how?

Leon: It’s not.

Charles: 👆🏻

Sy: In a house shared by eight guys there’s no excuse for a line for the bathroom!

Mike: Some of us have ✨girlfriends✨

Mike: You should try it sometime

Sy: 🦆🫵🏻 ❤️

Mike: Aww ❤️

Charles: He has a point, though.

Charles: Don’t appreciate getting yelled at for taking a shit in my own damn bathroom.

August: Not to mention the hair.

Sherlock: I don’t see the problem there? Just ask them to clean the drain when they’re done?

Leon: Spoken like a man who has never once in his life watched a woman clean a shower drain…

August: Good luck and farewell, Holmes

Sherlock: ?

Mike: Tears will be cried. Drains will be cleaned — by you.

Mike: Murder may be committed.

Sherlock: Surely, it can’t be that bad?

Geralt: No, he pretty much nailed it.

August: As much as I hate to admit it, the man is right.

Sy: So. New rules?

Leon: House meeting?

Mike: Sure. We’re all home, right?

Sy: Nope.

Mike: What? Why?

Sy: … sometimes when a date goes well, you end up staying over.

Sy: Are there other questions you need answered, bud?

Mike: I think I’m good…

Charles: Ladies, enough with the gossip

Leon: Right. Some of us have work to do.

Charles: Exactly

Sherlock: I highly doubt he was referring to you, Brandon.

Mike: Oooh, mad shade!!! xoxo Dani

Charles: Thanks. Sy, the complaint?

Sy: I had to wait in line to take a shower because the bathrooms were overrun by women.

Leon: Noted. The proposal?

Sy: I’m just pointing out the problem. Someone smarter than me can worry about the solution 🤷🏻‍♂️

Sherlock: Am I right to assume asking the girls to just… spend less time in the bathroom would result in murder, as well?

Sherlock: Never mind, Elena is nodding violently next to me right now.

Mike: What do you want us to do? Assign all the girls to one bathroom?

August: That might work, actually.

Leon: Doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.

Charles: Yes?

Mike: Wow, the one time I have a good idea, I don’t even realize it’s a good idea…

Mike: Wait, no.

Mike: I’m not permanently sharing a bathroom with seven of you because we sometimes have girls over.

August: Kid has a point.

Mike: I’m on a roll today! 😎

Sherlock: That leaves us with the question of how many women would have to be present to necessitate giving them their own bathroom, correct?

Marshall: If you desperately want to make it sound like math, then yes.

Sherlock: Not math. Logic.

Sherlock: And I find myself compelled to point out that I understand and enjoy logic.

August: Dealing with women is an aggravating experience, then, isn’t it?

Sherlock: Absolutely mystifying. But I’ve found that thus far the benefits outweigh the costs.

Mike: You know, for you… That’s actually kinda sweet 😂

Marshall: Romantic 👍🏻

Leon: Don’t tell her that…

Charles: Guys, seriously!

August: Right. Sol and Ange together never caused any problems.

Sherlock: Neither have any… liaisons of a fleeting nature

Mike: Hookups. You mean hookups.

Sherlock: You couldn’t pay me to say that.

Charles: Moot point. The average walk of shame happens before the shower.

Leon: It’s not like they stay for breakfast…

Leon: Beat me to it 😂🤜🏻

Charles: 🤛🏻

Geralt: The both of you are unbearable.

Geralt: August is right.

August: But…

Geralt: Sol and Ange don’t cause problems because Sol doesn’t take forever in the shower.

August: Right. But Angel is a nightmare, and so is Elena. Those two alone are enough to cause traffic.

Sherlock: Correct me if I’m wrong, but ‘Elena and Anjelica together, or either of those combined with any two others, or neither of them but a minimum of three others’ sounds like the kind of rule that will ensure we won’t even need it for the foreseeable future.

Sy: It also gives me a headache.

Mike: I don’t think I even understood enough of it to get a headache…

Sherlock: Minimum of 3, then ask me and Angie to not occupy both bathrooms at the same time. 🙄🙄🙄 Problem solved. You’re all still in trouble for even talking about this ❤️❤️❤️

Ange: They’re giving us what now???

Elena: Bathroom rules…

Dani: Tell me you’re kidding 🙃🙃

Elena: Dead fucking serious 🙄

Sol: Why?

Elena: Apparently 🙄🙄🙄🙄

Elena: We caused a traffic jam last night and made Sy late for his date???

Elena: Fairly sure Alicia didn’t mind because he’s still over there 🙄🙄🙄

Ange: What are the rules?

Elena: I don’t know. I’m glaring at Sherlock from a distance now.

Elena: I’m pleased to report he looks terrified every time I do 😈😈

Elena: They’re considering a girls’ bathroom.

Ange: I’m considering permanent occupation of all bathrooms.

Elena: Your boy called us both nightmares, by the way 😇😇

Elena: Apparently we take too long to shower, idk

Sol: You both take your time, sure…

Elena: Okay, fine. But he doesn’t have to point that out 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Ange: Funeral invitations to follow…

Ange: No but seriously

Ange: He thinks I take too long in the shower?

Ange: Fine!

Ange: I’ll take shorter showers!

Dani: He really said that? 💀

Ange: Let’s see how he feels about that in a week or two.

Ange: Enjoy flossing, August 🙃🙄

Dani: 👀👀 [the agonizing scream you just heard was brought to you by me spitting my drink over Mike’s keyboard]

Lexi: 🙊 Mike and keyboard both okay?

Dani: Keyboard fine, Mike hyperventilating. He’ll be alright, back to you Ange.

Ange: I might have to rescind this attitude…

Ange: As much as I want to get back at him for this, I don’t want him to run…

Sol: You really think he’d care? Ange… he loves you…

Ange: Not that much…

Lexi: Girl, please?? Have you seen the way that man looks at you?

Ange: … He’s never seen me, like… untweezed and unshaved and whatever

Dani: Never?

Ange: Never ever ever.

Sol: 👀👀

Sol: But why?? I only shave when I feel like it – which is almost never – and Geralt has never said anything??

Ange: Girl, you’re a blonde 👀👀

Ange: I don’t wax this stache, 2 weeks from now you’ll be confusing me for August. I swear.

Lexi: Okay there’s literally no way that’s true.

Dani: And even if it was, he’d still love you.

Ange: Yeah but I’m not about to find out, thanks.

Lexi: It’s your body, obviously

Elena: Do what feels comfortable

Dani: But if you do ever miss a day and he does say something nasty…

Elena: I’ll grab the shovels 😇😇

Leon: Ladies and gentlemen — mostly ladies. A little PSA regarding an update in the house rules at 179th Crescent Street. It was recently brought to my/our attention that the addition of a number of regular overnight guests has created a somewhat unmanageable situation in the realm of bathroom use. Therefore, the new policy is as follows: When three or more of the girlfriends are staying over, the upstairs bathroom is all yours! Management is currently unavailable for negotiation.

Charles: TLDR: take your long-ass showers on the second floor. Please.

Ange: This message was deleted.

August: I saw that.

Elena: Oh, I’ll say it with my chest

Elena: You all suck.

Sherlock: No…

Mike: Whatever you do, man, don’t finish that thought 😂

Sherlock: I think they got the message regardless.

Ange: Oh, we got it alright…

Dani: You’re lucky you’re cute, Sherlock 🙄

Mike: Hey!

Lexi: I’m so sorry to say this but… Over my cold, dead body am I walking up a flight of stairs in the middle of the night to pee.

Charles: @Leon Told you the ‘not up for negotiation’ thing wasn’t going to work.

Leon: It was worth a try.

Geralt: We’re not banning anyone from the house for using the ‘wrong’ bathroom

Sol: Then why the pointless rule?

Sy: Because yesterday BOTH bathrooms were occupied for well over two hours!!!

Sy: Seriously, what do you do in there?

Mike: Elaborate satanic rituals?

Sol: Occasionally.

Ange: Let’s see… Do we actually enlighten them?

Mike: Please do, I’m curious now…

Charles: I know what happens when I’m also in the shower… 😏

Ange removed Charles

Ange: Any other takers?

August: Angel…

Ange: Don’t tell me I’m overreacting!

August: I didn’t say a word 😑

Ange added Charles

Ange: Behave.

Charles: 🤐

Elena: Good boy.

Leon: Do you say that to Sherlock, too? 😏

Ange removed Leon

Marshall: Jesus, Ange…

Ange: Ugh, fine.

Ange added Leon

Mike: Seriously, girls… Other than summoning the occasional demon — what are you doing in there?

Sol: I’m gonna let Elena and Angie handle this one…

Ange: Alright. So first I check if I have all 4059834 items I’m going to need. Then at some point you’ll have to get naked, unfortunately…

Dani: Look at everything you hate about yourself for a solid 5 minutes until you’re nice and depressed

Elena: Didn’t come here to be called out like this, but thanks 🙄🙄

Sol: Poke your boobs and watch them jiggle because it’s funny until you’re less depressed

Mike: Getting jealous…

Ange: Then you turn on the shower and wait for the water to warm up

Lexi: To those ungodly temperatures from the pits of hell, you know? 👀👀

Mike: I’m not apologizing for that video, just so you know.

Lexi: That’s actually useful time to make sure you find the right playlist ✨✨

Sy: YOU DON’T NEED A PLAYLIST FOR A SHOWER

Lexi: Hard disagree

Elena: Yes, we do.

Sol: … Am I supposed to listen to my own thoughts in the shower?

Ange: I’d never be able to suppress my homicidal tendencies ever again, holy shit…

Dani: Then we actually get in the shower and warm up because the bathroom is cold, just like our souls.

Marshall: I’m genuinely learning more than I’ve ever wanted to know…

Mike: This is already taking longer than my whole entire shower…

Ange: And we’re not even close to being done.

Elena: @Ange Especially us…

Leon: Okay, fine, I’ll bite… Why is it different for the two of you?

Sol: Because they have curls?

Charles: That makes a difference?

Sy: So?

Mike: Why does THAT matter?

Marshall: Is that… important??

Elena: You’re all so clueless, it’s almost cute 🥺

Ange: @Marshall you actually might want to pay attention to this…

Ange: Alright. By the time I’m warm, my hair is usually wet all the way through

Ange: Massively heavy, by the way.

Ange: It’s hair-washing time! Which, idk about @Elena, but I have to do this in at least 4 sections if I don’t want to miss half of it.

Elena: I can get by with 2, but 4 is better.

Elena: Of course, 9/10 times I fucking forgot to section it before getting in the shower.

Ange: Obviously. So now you’re wrangling your wet hair into submission

Elena: Which is damn near impossible.

Ange: Exactly. But when that’s finally done, you can get to washing it.

Elena: And rinsing it until there’s absolutely no way there’s still any shampoo left.

Ange: Which takes a long ass time, BTW.

Ange: Then it’s ✨deep conditioner✨ time!!! Like… it’s always deepco time. I don’t even use regular conditioner anymore because my hair thinks it’s pointless. So like. That.

Elena: Mood.

Ange: And that stuff needs to sit in your hair for like 15-30 minutes

Mike: That’s like… 3 whole showers…

Charles: I don’t even spend this kind of time on my schoolwork 👀

Geralt: That’s not something to be proud of.

Sherlock: Imagine what you could do if you did.

Ange: Either way, it’s okay, because next… We exfoliate.

August: For those who haven’t been keeping count, we’re on step 12 or something. Jesus.

Charles: @Leon what the damn hell does our water bill look like?

Sol: Pay attention! Exfoliate! Then shave. Which, when you’re 6 feet tall in the showers here… damn near impossible, by the way.

Elena: (Cut yourself at least twice no matter how long you’ve been doing it…)

Lexi: Ohh! Cubicle yoga while holding a razor!!!

Dani: And while wet and slippery…

Ange: We’re superhuman 💃🏻

Sy: You’re nuts is what you are. All of you!

Dani: Anyway, when we reach baby dolphin status…

Dani: Which doesn’t happen until we’ve checked at least three times if we haven’t missed any spots…

Dani: I personally squeeze in brushing my teeth and skincare before rinsing my conditioner.

Elena: 👆🏻

Ange: Same! If I’m paying like 30 dollars for a hair mask that’ll barely last me two weeks, I’m gonna at least spend some time with it 👀✨

Sol: So that’s teeth and face wash in the shower. Then rinse that conditioner.

Ange: Which — again — takes a while if you have curly and/or a lot of hair.

Ange: Also, before I rinse my hair, I spend an ungodly amount of time detangling it with my fingers, which I have to do while the mask/conditioner is in. So…

Marshall: And at this point you’re finally nearly done, right?

Sherlock: … please, for the love of God, let it almost be over!

Ange: Oh, my precious little babies ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Lexi: At this point we’re slowly considering getting out of the shower, yes.

Dani: But the rest of the bathroom is cold, so we take our time gathering the courage to get out.

Leon: 🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️

Sherlock: The entire bathroom is hot enough to steam salmon at this point!

Mike: And yet, they manage to emerge from Mordor absolutely freezing…

Sol: When we do finally manage to make it out, we wrap ourselves in the biggest towel we can find…

Ange: By the way, ladies, you can thank me and Sol for the presence of the big towels in this house.

Sol: Oh GOD I remember the first shower I ever took here.

Geralt: The towels were fine.

Sol: …………. Geralt, I love and respect you, but you’re wrong and also stupid. ❤️

Ange: You’ll pay for that…

Sol: Looking forward to it 😈😈

Mike: Please continue…

Dani: We’re left with the rest of our skincare. So; toner, 1-3 serums, moisturizer. Sunscreen or oil, for me, depending on the time of day.

Ange: But the mirror is fogged up from the shower, so you have to deal with that…

Leon: YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR FACE IS, DON’T YOU?

Ange: Yes, but it’s also very pretty so I wanna look at it. Thanks.

Lexi: How can I meticulously study all the imperfections in my skin if I can’t see my face???

Dani: Exactly! (To both of those things, simultaneously)

Dani: So, after that, it’s time to moisturize everything you’ve exfoliated and/or shaved.

Elena: Which is… pretty much everything.

Sol: Cue deep sigh because this is where you find out you actually did miss a spot somewhere.

Ange: And then it’s back to the hair for the curly girls!

Elena: Leave in ❤️❤️❤️

Marshall: What?

Sy: ??

Mike: Wut?

Ange: It’s like conditioner, but you don’t rinse it out.

Sherlock: @Elena the stuff that smells good?

Elena: Yes 😂😂😂

Dani: Which reminds me; @Elena, is that your Quench in the bathroom or mine? I can’t remember…

Elena: Oh, God, me neither…

August: Settle this in the shadow group, ladies.

Lexi: You know about that, huh? 😂

Dani: Shit, they figured it out…

Sol: Not surprised… They’re not completely clueless…

Ange: Just mostly…

August: Thanks. Enough of that.

Ange: Okay daddy 🥺❤️❤️

August: 🙄

Ange: Anyway. After the leave-in and maybe two or three other products, I wrap my hair up in my hair-towel — or hair-tshirt.

Charles: Another towel? Why in the fuck?

Ange: Boys. I understand that you don’t give a fuck about this, but…

Ange: Regular towels are actually not good for your hair.

Elena: 👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻

Lexi: Besides… You can’t dry long hair and your body with 1 towel…

Sol: What she said.

Sol: What they both said, actually.

Leon: Are we finally at the end of all of this?

Leon: I’ve literally never been more glad to not have a girlfriend, jesus fucking christ…

Dani: Yeah, pretty much… You get dressed, dreading the cold of the hallway, and then we quickly go find a boy to snuggle up to who can then tell us we smell nice and are very soft, so we can convince ourselves we didn’t just spend an unholy amount of time doing all of that for absolutely nothing.

August: All of this is… insane.

Ange: Hey! I can stop doing half of this, if you think it’s so unnecessary 🙄🙄

Elena: Now that I think about it… It wouldn’t even save any time, because you still need to let the conditioner sit, so…

Charles: Right, ladies, this was very interesting…

Charles: I’m going to take a shower now.

Charles: Talk to you in about… 10 minutes 🙄

Sy: Remind me to never ask any of you any questions literally ever again…

[alenseress]

I think I peaked with this art specifically

[ikimaru]

VR/college AU part 25!

in which Lance activates the braincell and then gets sad

first | part 24 | part 26

[cheesy-cryptid]

My party cramming for their finals week 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[zeusmachina]

what if karlach was the captain of a volleyball team ?? (i know i'll be sitting in the stands all day just to watch her play)

[atomikats]

i just needed to get this college au out of my head. i’m free now

i didn’t know what to do for brook or jinbe ,, i’ll figure it out. probably.

[mightbebobbie]

college au?!? imagine the parties and after school study sessions and ugh. i imagine sanji studies culinary arts while zoro studies athletics or sports of some kind! zeff n mihawk r their professors… the thousand sunny is what the straw hats call their shared apartment/house…

[to00fu]

i colored it :3