#This is hands down the worst professor I've ever had in my life this is the guy I've ranted about before who is so fucking pretentious

[hamartia-grander]

My professor took off a point from one of my scripts because I labelled a character as Nonbinary, and he claims I should've left the gender description blank because "it's not necessary for this character", as if "nonbinary" is a placeholder for "I don't care what gender" I am actually going to tear him to shreds

[a66-1]

I am in desperate need of some Simon fluff. My French professor is just about THE worst person I've ever encountered in my life and has entirely put me off wanting to learn a language at all. I'd appreciate it more than you can imagine 🙏🏻

Get that French teacher over here, I have a few words for them 😈😈

I'm so sorry. As my condolences here's some Simon fluff because your teachers suck in this universe

Sickenly sweet! Simon x Absolutely done with class! Reader

"Love? What's with.. The face?" Simon had peaked his head around your door, frowning when he saw such a look of discontentment written all over yours.

You turned your head, daggers ready to be thrown at anyone around you, but Simon's face made it impossible for you to do anything other than drop your resolve and tell him everything. Would you sound whiny for getting upset over a teacher? It's so elementary.

"There's.. No face, I'm just tired." you threw out an excuse, making yourself busy by digging through your bag, searching for that work that's due on Tuesdays lecture, fuck!

"You look minutes away from either A) crying or B) ending the life of someone." Simon snorted, walking into your room. Your desk had all of your French work and textbooks you have, but you can't seem to pick anything up anymore, because of that fucking professeur making learning your least favorite thing in his class.

You scowl, pulling out the work from the last lecture, "I'm.. Stressed, Simon, do you have to dig and nag right now?"

Simon looks up from your desk, before approaching you, his hand sliding into your hair. You leaned instantly, looking up at him. He smiled softly, before dropping to a kneel in front of you. "Of course I do. I can make it all better," he kissed your palm he stole from holding your work.

You smiled wearily, "lovey, I love you but I'm still busy-"

"Busy with what? Trying to learn when your all spent from class? I know how you speak of that professor." He moved your book bag away, hooking his arms around your waist, standing with you. You yelp slightly, hitting his shoulder.

"Put me down, Si-" You counter, and his softly kissed your face until you stopped asking to go back to your work. He brought you to watch the show you guys have been binge watching.

"Once you're all calmed down, you think you could go back to the work to learn?" He mumbled in you ear. You nodded.

"I'll try. Can you sit with me? I know you can't help, but.." Simon nodded anyway, and you snuggled closer.

If you were forced to learn with this man with you, you think you'd learn anything quickly.

Sgsshsshsh phone writing, of mistakes, L me bc I'm not proofreading.

Ilysm! I hope that professor finds me 😈

-a661

[throwaway-yandere]

Worksheets (Yandere!Alhaitham/Reader)

A/n: What's this, Ansy? Planning on two Alhaitham fics??? Are you not loyal to Dain or Ayat– Speak not, my comrade. Don't tell me that the new Archon Quest wasn't delectable lmao. Also, today was the first time I got a tip, and I??? I've never known happiness quite like that. I'm crying. I will remember you forever, "mommy milkers", I'll dedicate this fic to you ;;-;; (I'm pretty sure I know who you are "*chomp* *chomp*" but that name is entertaining lmao.) On another note, kinda loved how this fic turned out and this is prolly the closest thing I'll ever write to a "lime" lmao.

Unreliable Synopsis: (Student!Alhaitham era) Studying 20 languages is quite an exhausting task. It's a great thing Alhaitham is eager to help his "study buddy".

Cw: yandere themes, implied drugging and non/dubcon. Please don't read this if you're sensitive to the content mentioned. Your mental health matters.

—--------

Alhaitham, like you, is not the type to strike up an amusing discussion while he has a book in his hands. So he laid down his book and decided to take yours as well.

As Akademiya students, you are both bound by a single, exhausting clearance requirement: master 20 languages before graduation. So far, you think you're passable at best on writing romanized Inazuman script and laughable at worst on pronouncing proper Liyue intonations. You can already count yourself as one of the many students that won't see the light of employment next year, but Alhaitham won't let you sulk so readily.

"Time's up. You're done, right?"

He slid the textbook off the table and began flipping through your work.

You didn't reply. Instead, you felt the weight of your head on both palms. It's not that you're unable to reply. You just don't want to admit how illiterate you are in foreign linguistics.

"(Y/n), look at me when I'm speaking."

"I accept my fate." You muttered, soundly defeated. And then, you let yourself rest on the table. "Here lies (Y/n) (L/n). May they finally learn how to pronounce 印 properly in the afterlife."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes.

"Should I help send you off to Aaru Village? Want a proper goodbye from your old study buddy?"

"That would be quite nice, yes."

"Sure. I'll be happy to do that." He stopped flipping through the pages and focused all his attention on you. "If you started acting hysterical and destructive. But you're not. You're just miserable and reserved."

"Thanks for that wonderful assessment, Professor Alhaitham. I'm sure studying neurophilosophy helped you come up with that conclusion. Oh, your brilliance never ceases to surprise me!"

Alhaitham chuckled. His chuckles are almost always short-lived and 100% condescending. 

"(Y/n), language is simply not your forte. But you do wonders in mathematics since we are almost on the same level."

You glared, finally meeting his gaze.

"Must you always brag about yourself whenever you try to cheer me up?"

"Hmm?"

"Lord Kusanali– don't tell me you haven't noticed that about yourself…"

He lightly smacked your head with your textbook. You winced, exaggerating your pain.

"Our conversation isn't about me, it's you. Now, enlighten me, how on earth did you manage to mistake Snezhnayan scripts in a Liyue assignment?"

"E-Eh?!"

You snatched your book back.

"Holy shit. You're right."

You may not like beer, the first time you drank one it tasted funny, but at that moment you decided that once exams are over you're going to get completely inebriated.

Alhaitham watched you reread your work and fondly memorized the way your eyebrows knitted and your eyes skimming through the pages. Your fingers gripped that book as if your life depended on it. That might as well be true knowing your passion for your degree, but he simply wished you will spare part of that zeal for him.

He used to study alone until you showed up. Freshman year was brutal and unkind, but when you insisted on becoming his partner the world had taken on a vibrant hue. Alhaitham never asked for a partner, but your proposal was enticing that he had to say yes. He lied and said he merely wanted to see where this would lead him before, but now he is proud to say he did not regret that decision. It's a shame that your persuasive techniques do not work well with complex Liyue scripts, if they did you would've aced these tests.

"Ugghhh... I hope I get buried raw so I wouldn't have to worry about funeral expenses too..."

Alhaitham did not mind that he's helping you work on your quote-unquote "bane of existence." Students at the Akademiya sometimes fear group work, but he's not one of them. He hopes for one in each subject should it entail that you'll be beside him. Should the assignment be on a frost-prickling mountain, he still wouldn't hesitate to tag along if it meant sharing his cloak and warmth with you. Alhaitham doubts he cares about any other factors. As a friend and intellectual collaborator, you've become irreplaceable.

That's why he won't let you fall behind.

"Chin up." He patted your head like you would a cat. 

"H-Huh?"

"I said chin up," Alhaitham spoke, uncharacteristically soft. "I'll be right here beside you until we graduate."

You smiled, not at all comforted but grateful for the gesture. You sat up straight. "Thanks, Haitham."

When given the option to either comfort or critique, Alhaitham doesn't hesitate to choose the latter. This small moment made you happy. Back then, he used to be rather cold and skilled at getting you off his life. You subconsciously began to grin. Your friend Lisa was right, he softens when he's with you–

"Which is why I'll be sending you additional practice sheets for you to work on," Alhaitham added bluntly, his words dropping like a hammer. "I'm not letting you play games until you perfect writing these scripts."

Your eyes stared coldly back at him.

Nevermind. Forget it. He's the same as he had always been.

"Way to ruin the moment, Future Grand Scribe."

—----

Three days have passed and it's the last day of your dreaded linguistics exams.

Well, that sounds more significant than what it is. It's the last day of ALHAITHAM'S MOCK EXAMS, which is what it actually is, but you can't help but feel nervous as you would in a real graded performance. He takes practice exercises and their punishments very seriously. Last time was just a surprise quiz, so the intensity differed greatly.

Alhaitham took a seat at an adjacent table. He was amusingly dressed in a pair of glasses and an Akademiya professor uniform. You'd mock him for believing in you when you claimed you wanted the exam to be as immersive as possible, but his execution is far too effective for your liking. For crying out loud, he even received the alchemy professor's signed permission to borrow his room!

"For your last test, you need to translate this Liyue text back to Sumeru scripts. I'll give you… 30 minutes for this." He said, adjusting his timer. 

Alhaitham cast a sidelong glance at you, pretending not to see your apprehension. His fingers lingered over the reset and split buttons.

"Are you ready?" 

You felt your palms beginning to sweat.

"S-Sure."

He didn't care what your answer was– no professor would ever wait for a student. Alhaitham flipped the test paper to its front page.

"Timer starts now."

Nervously, you picked up your pen and paper and started reading. Alhaitham left the timer on top of the table and went back to drinking his cup.

Alright, here we go.

Decoding it was simple, at first. The start felt like a canned script for a traditional romantic light novel. You translated the messages back to your native tongue. Then, things started to become a bit complicated.

'I've decided to be entirely honest and truthful in this letter, so I'll start from the very beginning. I used to despise you.'

Your nose scrunched, amused. What an introduction. You pointed your pen in his direction.

"Is our friendship over, Haitham?"

He glared. "Quit talking. 29 minutes and 38 seconds–"

"Alright, alright. Geez."

'But you were so relentless that I couldn't help but cave in. Who wouldn't? You're personable and you share my beliefs about research autonomy. It's difficult to find someone who is an expert at both. You'd know that best.'

'It's pitiful that I can't handle the notion of losing you once this is finished.  Many people do not consider me to be empathic and they frequently misinterpret my lack of emotional expression as a lack of empathy. But you've always been so accepting of me.'

'It's a shame that you left me when morning came. I've never felt solitude quite like that wake-up call.'

You grimaced as you continued to read the rest of the paragraphs. Whoever wrote this must be seriously lovelorn and obsessed because they wrote as if they've hopelessly known that their affections will remain unreciprocated beyond half a decade. 

The author went on to describe how they had watched their beloved enjoy their life blissfully ignorant of the misery they had caused him. Given that Alhaitham creates everything by hand, the stark contrast between the material and his precise letterings does nothing to express the writer's frantic confession.

'I can't get the thought of you out of my mind. It's exhilarating. I've never been this stimulated before I met you.'

'I need you, even after our partnership is over.'

You can't get over how, in Alhaitham's fine handwriting, the author gradually spiraled from unrequited love to an obsession that can't be helped.

'You have qualities that no one else possesses. Traits that I want in a lifelong companion. You taught me things I didn't know I wanted for myself. And you are on top of that list.'

'As you're probably aware, you do have a guardian angel. I sometimes answer your assignments for you. Every morning, I pay for your coffee and leave sticky notes in case you overlook your deadlines. These are all unpaid acts of kindness, but they make me feel like I'm laying a better foundation for a relationship with you.'

'I admit, I don't mind following you around like an affectionate dog every now and then. Your schedule is predictable. You even handed me a duplicate with your new phone number on it. It's both pleasant and difficult for me to watch you from a distance, but what else can I do? Everyone knows I'm rather socially inept for this to play out as smoothly as I'd hope so I had to stoop to this method.'

'At least I learned not to break doors this time."

'Once we both graduate, I might not be able to see you again in my life. We will no longer work together as much as we did before. I wouldn't be able to see you laugh or make excuses just to touch you. I like being near you. Even if you consider me as a one-night stand. Even if you consider me as your biggest mistake.'

You looked at Alhaitham with a face that ridiculed his choice of picking this creepy excerpt. He didn't so much as move and continued sitting at the table, staring at you robotically calm.

You hope this Liyue person has already been apprehended by the Millelith.

You resumed deciphering after deciding to trust whatever bizarre letter Alhaitham had assigned to you. You were beginning to feel sorry for the person Alhaitham obtained the love letter from and its intended recipient... You wouldn't be astonished if Alhaitham pulled this letter from the hands of a mad scholar and deemed it a worthy linguistics exercise.

'You're mine and you will learn to love me. I've already decided on that.'

'I'm sure that declaration is bound to scare you, but I genuinely meant it. I can understand if you react violently. I wouldn't hate you if you tried to contact the authorities, but just know that eremites are useless against me.'

You scowled. Perhaps your study companion wanted you to be wholly aware that translating is not an easy task. If so, you're impressed by his dedication. You'd never read a letter like this again.

Then it got worse.

'That's why I need to take control again.'

'I need you to open your eyes– I need you to know that without me, you cannot survive in a world beyond academics.'

'You need me just as much as I need you, too.'

'So when will you invite me back to Dorm 569?'

You stopped reading and you felt the clip of your pen snap. 

Slowly, you turned the paper to its back. Your eyes were glued to the table, unable to look at your study partner's face.

"Alhaitham…" You laughed sheepishly. "Do… Do you have to go above and beyond writing such a… personal sounding example? You know, the Akademiya doesn't allow plagiarism—especially when it's a creepy love letter."

Being batch-mates with Alhaitham, you're well aware of his eccentricities. And being batch-mates with you helps him pretend that there's nothing creepy about knowing a few minor details too.

But this is… is not one of them.

Alhaitham placed his mug down and began to peek through your worksheets behind you.

"Five minutes left, I'm guessing you're on the last paragraph?" He spoke as if your concerns were nonexistent.

"Of course I'm on the damn last paragraph!!!"

You immediately covered your mouth, looking around the room if you had disturbed others, before being staunchly reminded that you are alone. With him.

It's like reading a horror story at home alone on the weekends. The setting is safe, you trust Alhaitham, but your heart is restless.

Dorm 569. 

It's your dorm number but it's not an innocent suggestion if– when it comes from him. The implication was sinister and cruel. There is a historical context that vastly changes the flow of this conversation. A context that you don't want to address plainly.

"This is just a joke, right?" You gulped dryly. Despite your treacherous nerves, you made a joke. "You're not stalking me, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Alhaitham steadily reduced the gap between you two by holding your chair with both hands. Before you could realize it, he had already closed off all means of escape. You felt his breathing brush against you. Every inch of your body begged for a sprint as his green-orange eyes peered through your soul, calculating as they had always been.

You need to leave.

"You're going to brush off the rest of what you've read and focus on such a minor detail? You're not going to ask if I have feelings for you like a normal person?"

His breath smelled like coffee.

"I would if this fucking letter sounded anywhere close to normal!" You yell-whispered.

You combed your hair back with your fingers, feeling your entire body shaken by his implied agreement. 

"Shit, Alhaitham… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell your ears out– I'm just a bit…" You laughed, sinking your weight on the chair's cross rail but he inched closer, maintaining the distance you had before. "Moved? I'm so bad at vocab, is that the word? Yeah, moved by that love letter, I suppose."

"Don't be sarcastic. You're frightened."

You scoffed.

"D-Duh, making jokes is a coping mechanism. Something you wouldn't relate to, I know."

He didn't move from his position.

You breathed in sharply. "What?"

"You still haven't asked."

"Asked what?"

"If I like you romantically."

"W-Well, you still haven't answered me either."

"Answered what?"

"... Is it true? Are you stalking me?"

He did not hesitate to answer. "In a sense, yes."

What…?

Your stomach flipped at his nonchalant reply. He tilted your chin up. The short distance between you two began to diminish as you felt Alhaitham's hair against your cheek.

"How else would I know your dorm number if I didn't, right?"

You slapped his hand away. "You know what I meant. This isn't funny at all. Please answer me seriously."

"I thought you think of me as a guardian angel. You wanted the truth and I gave you my thoughts." Alhaitham pressed. 

You don't want to believe it.

You don't want to acknowledge that it was someone you trusted who forced you to bed.

"I am stalking you. Tell me– who else would've fucked you senseless that night? Go on, tell me, (Y/n)."

But you knew deep down that it was him.

You shoved him off, but he was stronger than you are. You've seen him in action, he did not lie when fighting eremites are child's play to him. You're his study partner, and you, unfortunately, know him best as he stated in that letter.

Dorm 569. That night was a blur and you've changed rooms since then. Another student, Soraya, began living in your old room. You couldn't bear to visit and see how the freshman was doing. 

You never actively seek parties, and Alhaitham was the same. But one night, you both decided to finally experience the infamous "college life" by attending one. Your brain refused to unfold everything that transpired. Pieces of your conversations occasionally resurface, but they're all mundane yet bitter. Retracing your steps had a major discrepancy from drinking beer to waking up in your dorm with a broken door.

Nothing explained why your study partner was naked beside you, lovingly caressing your hair.

"Were you fantasizing about another man? One of our seniors, perhaps? Are you one of those people who get off on unbalanced relationship dynamics?" 

There was no explanation as to why you woke up screaming. 

And there were no words spoken about it the next time you bumped into each other.

He never mentioned it again.

And you foolishly thought that was the end of it.

"S-Stop…"

"If not our old seniors…  Was it our Ethics professor?"

Your heart dropped.

Alhaitham laughed. His usually calm green-orange eyes that soothed you swirled with what you assumed was jealousy and self-loathing. Two emotions you have not seen before, or at least, did not acknowledge.

You both knew you were scared to face reality. But he doesn't want to play these mind games any longer. Alhaitham already decided on it. You will recall everything. 

His grip on your chin tightened. 

"It's him, correct? I won't forget the way you moaned 'Sir' when I pulled your hair. If I wasn't confident, I wouldn't be wearing this stupid pair of glasses and uniform just to woo you."

You could no longer speak. Alhaitham took it as permission to do anything he wants with you. Just like that night.

His lengthy fingers pinched your inner thigh.

"Then again, I don't think I can keep acting like him. Spiking a drink would be in his list of unforgivable actions I'm sure."

You trembled.

"Still won't answer, (Y/n)? Or would you prefer I call you Mx. (L/n)?"

Alhaitham scoffed, grinning.

"You don't have to answer. We have the classroom all to ourselves to test that hypothesis."

[nyrasbloodyclover]

leave it to me (peter maximoff x mutant!reader)

a/n: i forgot i wrote this last summer so here you go! it's literally just flirting + fluff

I layed in my room and watched the fan on my ceiling spin for the last 54 minutes. I wanted to rip my head open and take out my brain. I had so many things to do that i actually didn't know where to start. My room was a fucking mess, piles of clothes were everywhere. I had to sort out my thoughts after getting off the phone call with my mom. (It wasn't pleasant.) I had to get dressed since i was still laying in my underwear and black top. I was exhausted, because I couldn't sleep at all. Oh and i didn't do my homework, so Charles won't be happy about it.

But instead of doing any of that, i counted minutes and stared at the ceiling. Like a fucking genius. My powers were also occupying me— blue stripes sliding down my arms and floating around. They weren't completely useless in this situation—I could use my telekinesis to clean my room, but I was too lazy to even do that. 

Nobody checked on me, which was kind of a relief at first, but now...I wanted somebody to help me. I had so many things to do I was beggining to think it's impossible.

"Open the dooooor," I heard distant voice from the other side. It was Peter. "You've been there for hours, come onnnn!"

Hours? That can't be possible. "I can't get uuuppppp," I returned in the same tone, smile spreading across my face. I loved being in his presence and I wanted nothing more than to open the fucking door, but there was a problem. 

I didn't want him to see this mess.

"Use your powers, stupid." He shouted. 

"Uhhh, I'm naked." I lied unsuccessfully. God, I'm so miserable.

"Now, that was just horrible." And he bursted through the doors. Despite not being fully naked I mentally slapped myself for not at least putting some clothes on. My head was hanging from the bed and i was looking at him upside down.

His eyes were filled with amusement, scanning my current position. I'd probably laugh at myself too.

"What's the problem here?" Then he added, "Besides the obvious..."

I thought I might cry. My eyes were burning. "God, I think I'm the worst student here." I put my hands over my face. "Look at this mess!" I showed around the room.

Worry covered his features ,"Hey, hey, hey! You're not the worst student. Here, I'll help you."

I wanted to hug him so bad. He was the sweetest person I've ever met, truly. But I still felt bad for not doing anything.

I wanted to get up, and help him, but he put his hands on my shoulders, "Leave it to me. Now watch."

Before I even got a chance to protest, he started cleaning everything up.

And for the next 5 seconds I watched him use his super speed, going from one corner to another, putting everything back in it's place. It was really something else.

My room was finally clean. Oh my God I could burst into tears. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I jumped from the bed and threw myself at him, hugging him like my life depended on it. He chuckled and hugged me back. 

He whispered, " Now I wish i could also run through your mind, 'cause I know something's bothering you, but unfortunately, I can't." Even that made me smile. 

"It's okay. My room being normal again is enough." I broke the hug, taking my papers that were due tomorrow. "I should probably get to—"

"Oh and I forgot to mention, while I was walking around, I accidentally heard Professor say something about this specific assignment..." He explained, taking the papers from me. Was he sent here to take care of my problems? I really wanted to know.

"No way. What's in it for you?" I asked suspiciously.

"I am in your room. I am talking to you. And you're asking what's in it for me?" He raised his eyebrows and I felt my neck burning. 

"Well if i'm such a prize, you should come here more often." I meant it in a joking way, but it just sounded...wrong.

He smiled, "Oh, I will, don't worry." 

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chapter 2

round one

2 september 1995

Mattheo's POV

I'm late. Second class of the term and I'm already late. Not that anything important is done in the first lesson of term, just lectures about O.W.L.s and starting to make something of ourselves. Personally, I'll pass.

I move leisurely through the now empty corridors of Hogwarts as I make my way to McGonagall's class room. Some first year runs past me, probably lost, and I sigh. Everyone is always so happy to come back to the castle in the fall. Sure Hogwarts is better than being at home but I'm still counting down the days until I'm completely free. I reach the doors to the Transfiguration classroom and check my watch, 5 minutes late. I shoulder open the door and step into the classroom. At the noise, everyone's heads turn to me.

"Mr. Riddle! You are late. 5 points from Slytherin," McGonagall's voice cuts through the air.

"Apologies, Professor," I say dryly, kicking the door closed behind me and scan the room for empty seats.

"Well come in, let's not delay any further. There is an empty seat up here next to Miss Potter," McGonagall says, turning back to the papers in her hand. My eyes find the empty seat right next to Miss Perfect herself. I sigh and drop into the seat next to her, eyeing her carefully. Her jaw is clenches and her shoulders tight, clearly making an effort to ignore my presence.

Euphemia Potter. Gryffindor Princess and Little Miss Perfect. She and her brother are the most self righteous people I've ever met. When the Potters break rules, they win house points, awards and are called heroes; when Slytherins break the same rules, we lose house points and get our arses thrown in detention. Euphemia spends her free time running around with the Weasley Twins, setting pranks and causing havoc for the rest of the student body, in particular Slytherins. But the princess never gets caught and if she does, she just bats her eyelashes, tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder and is off the hook. Her brother isn't any better. I spent most of last term being blamed for opening the Chamber of Secrets (which I had never heard of in my life) but innocent little Harry Potter just happens to actually find it, kill a basilisk out of pure luck and starts telling everyone he saw the ghost of a young Tom Riddle, my late father. All just in time for the end of term. Two words: Dragon Shit.

I look at Euphemia out of the corner of my eye, watching her studiously listen to whatever McGonagall is droning on about. The worst part of Euphemia? She's drop dead gorgeous. Most of the guys in this school want her and she fucking knows it. And no matter how much I hate her, I can't deny that the curve of her figure, the fullness of her lips, and the way her auburn hair highlights the bright green of her eyes is about as perfect of an appearance as you can get. As she listens to the lecture, she fiddles with the ring on her left pointer finer and I catch a glimpse of the infamous lighting scar on her wrist, the one she shares with her brother. Although I don't understand why his is on his forehead and hers is on my wrist.

Euphemia and I have been at odds since our third year. Before that, she was quiet and more shy; preferring to study in the library and read more than anything else. I didn't like her then, but she was tolerable. She and her friends stayed out of my way and we minded our own business. Third year rolls around, however, and Harry comes to Hogwarts and all anyone can talk about is the Potter siblings. That year, Euphemia went from a quiet and studious person, to the bane of my existence. She'd joined the Quidditch team, quickly becoming an impressive chaser, and come out of her shell over the summer and suddenly guys wanted her and girls wanted to be her. Me? I just wanted to kill her. She got it into her head that I was the one trying to get some magic stone Dumbledore had hidden in the castle to bring back my father, as if I want that, and basically threatened me. 

Yes my father was Voldemort and yes, sometimes I use that fact to my advantage to get my way but I don't buy into any of the shit my father stood for. I may not remember him, but the scars on my mother's back tell me all I need to know about the piece of shit. I don't really care about blood purity or any of that crap but to have any kind of power in Slytherin, you better at least act like you do. Especially if your last name is Riddle.

Euphemia turns her head suddenly, eyes meeting mine as she raises her eyebrow at me. Shit, she caught me staring. I hold her eyes for a moment before turning back to McGonagall. She turns back to front too and sighs slightly, as if me looking at her actually bothers her.

After a very long and dry lecture by McGonagall about her expectations and plan for the year, the period ends. Euphemia stands quickly, moving to stand with her groupies. The Weasley twins-- I couldn't tell them apart if my life depended on it and they are equally irritating so really what's the point--stare daggers at me before they turn to leave the classroom with Potter. I sigh and roll my eyes, turning to my friends, gathered out in the hall. Elladora, Evan, and Theo are out in the hall. I make eye contact with Theo and give him and nod as I approach.

"Oh!" Elladora exclaims as she pretends to faint into Evan's arms. Evan and Ella laugh loudly. Ever since hearing the rumor that both the Potters fainted on the train yesterday began circulating, Ella has been relentless. She despises Euphemia more than anyone. "Salazar! How could anyone be so pathetic?" Ella turns to face Euphemia, whose face is stoic although her eyes are fiery. She levels Ella with a defiant stare and turns away rolling her eyes, seemingly unaffected.

"Aw you hurt the princess' feelings," Evan laughs cruelly, nudging Ella with his shoulder as we start making out way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Good! She's so pathetic. Can you imagine fainting because you're too afraid of a dementor? Big and scary Potter is finally showing her true colors," Ella continues, laughing maniacally.

"Ella, stop! Dementors are horrid no matter how brave you are," Astoria pipes up, joining us in the hall. Astoria, unlike the rest of us, is friends with Potter and often defends her to the rest of us. 

"Still, it is kinda funny," Theo adds as we sit down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.

"You don't even know if its true," Astoria argues.

"So what? As long as it gets under the princess' skin!" Ella laughs with Evan.

"Get's under who's skin?" Lorenzo asks, taking a seat next to me.

"Don't ask," I grumble, not wanting Euphemia Potter to infiltrate my brain anymore than necessary.

"Euphemia Potter," Theo supplies to Enzo before turning his gaze to me as I grab some food from the center of the table. "What's got your wand in a knot? Sitting next to the hottest girl in school messing with your head already?"

I flip Theo off and take a bit of my apple.

"You're sitting next to her now?" Enzo asks, trying to hide his surprise.

"I got to class late. Only desk open."

"Matt, you're already gathering tardies? We've had two classes!" Astoria exclaims, looking at me disappointedly.

"Sorry, Mum," I retort sarcastically.

"So not only are you going to be doing rounds with Potter twice a week, but you're sitting next to her in classes now too?" Evan smirks, probably concocting a little story to entertain himself.

"He's going soft," coos Ella mockingly.

"Fuck off, Ella," I say, my temper starting to rise causing me to grind my teeth.

"They're gonna fuck!" Evan pronounces, causing Enzo and Theo to laugh.

"HA! I'll take that bet," Enzo laughs though a bite of food. I level Enzo with a glare, causing him to raise his hands in mock surrender.

"C'mon Matt, you can't deny you want a piece of that!" Evan outlines the shape of a woman with his hands, making lewd faces as he does.

"She's not a pie and you're disgusting," Astoria deadpans.

"Euphemia Potter is nothing but a spoiled brat. You can have my piece, Ev," I grumble, grabbing my bag and standing. I've had enough tormenting for one day and I still have to deal with prefect rounds tonight. I need some quiet. 

✦                                                                                         ✦                                                                                            ✦

Later that evening, I emerge from my room, needing to meet Euphemia for our first prefect rounds. I ignore someone calling my name as I make my way through the common room and push my way through the Slytherin dorm entrance. Standing, directly on the other side of the corridor, is Euphemia Potter. "Good let's go," I say curtly and continue walking down the hall. The first hour passes agonizingly slow. A part from a few words from Potter and some grunts of acknowledgement, we pass the time in tense silence. I watch the girl from the side of my eye. At some point during the day, she pulled her long auburn hair back from her face and into a ponytail but her uniform is as prim and perfect as it was this morning. 

"Stop staring at me," she says suddenly, not turning to look at me.

"I wasn't," I grumble. 

"Oh good, you can still speak. I was getting worried you had lost your command of the English language," she says, her tone haunty as her eyes flick to me for a moment. 

"Just not willing to share my talents with the likes of you." She rolls her eyes in response and turns away, peering down a dark corridor as we pass by. "Did you really faint?" I say suddenly and, to be honest, I'm not really sure why. She keeps walking but her posture stiffens as if readying for a blow. 

"You've barely made a sound all night and you open with that? What, have you been working up the nerve to ask?" 

"Did you?" I press. While I admit I do enjoy riling Potter up, there's a genuine curiosity there too. 

"Why are you asking?" She asks, stopping to turn to face me, her arms crossed over her chest. She looks up at me, her expression guarded and defiant. 

"Why are are you avoiding the question?" I challenge. Her jaw flexes as her eyes search my face and she takes a measured breath. 

"Yes, I did and I'm not ashamed. And no matter how much you and your friends try to make me feel ashamed I won't." Euphemia speaks quickly. I didn't actually think she'd admit it and I can't hide the smirk forming on my face. 

"Never seen you admit a weakness before, Princess," I chuckle, continuing our walk of the corridors. 

"Don't call me princess!" She snaps after me, trailing along in my wake. "And it is not a weakness." 

"Whatever you have to tell yourself, princess," I retort, enjoying the reaction I'm getting. 

"Did you even see the dementor? I bet it didn't even come close to you," she grumbles, catching up to me. I don't respond. Truthfully, my friends and I didn't see it and didn't even know why the train had stopped until we were almost at the station but I'll be cursed before I tell her that. "You didn't did you?" Euphemia continues to press, chuckling when I don't respond. "Godric, that is so typical of you lot. Making fun of things you know nothing about. Do you ever-" 

"Shut up, Potter. You don't know anything about me!" I snap, grinding my teeth. 

"Oh yes, and you know all about me, right? You know everything. The great Mattheo Riddle, who is smarter and better than everyone else. No one else could possible suffer because you have the monopoly on pain!" She rants, sarcasm and disdain leaking into her tone. 

"Oh like you know pain," I snap, "The Perfect Potters have it so hard! Everyone loves you and lets you do whatever you want." 

"You don't know anything about me or what I've been through!" She yells, turning to face me, anger and fire in her eyes. 

"Please! Don't give me the whole orphan act, I bet you don't even remember any of it!" I yell back. I raise my hand, waving it through the air as if to brush her off, but as I do, the perfect and fearless Euphemia Potter does something I don't expect. She flinches. 

Just a for a second, her shoulders tighten and she stiffens, as if preparing for a blow, and fear flashes in her eyes. But then its gone, hidden back under the mask of anger and loathing. I lower my hand slowly, examining her face. We watch each other for a long moment before she takes a step towards me, glaring up at me defiantly. "I remember plenty." 

She holds my gaze for a long moment before turning away and continuing down the hall. We walk in tense silence for the rest of our shift. As round the last corner, Potter turns to head up the flight of stairs on our left. "Meet me outside Gryffindor Common Room on Thursday," she calls over her shoulder as she stars up the stairs, not sparing a glance back my way as she walks out of sight.  

[anto-pops]

thinking about daddy!seb and some real life stories i've collected through friends, and i know a couple who have *nine kids*. and my bestie (their mom) loves it, her husband? loves it. he's so proud of it, and they've been together since high school-- he was down bad for her even before that, so ofc he's proud but anyways. they had twins after twins; they started out normal having single babies and then the most insane odds hit them and even after that, they kept going at it. our friend group got to a point where a year had passed and we asked if she was still pregnant. to this day she could be.

all that to say, sebastian won't rest until he needs both hands and maybe one of yours to count the kids and every professor and friend alike are gonna be exhausted but also you can't tell me some of them aren't cracking jokes. like your door is a revolving one by the seventh kid. and that's not even my worst story, ask me about the friend who got an infection on christmas, trust me, she's never gonna live it down.

DAMN NINE KIDS ??? DID SHE EVER TAKE A BREAK LMFAOOOO

I can absolutely see Sebastian being the same way though, especially because he's the last Sallow beforehand. He'd take immense pride and get all fuzzy inside knowing his name would live on despite the loss of his Uncle and theoretically Anne. You're just as giddy over the growth of your family— at no point did you expect starting Hogwarts late to lead you to this point in your life 🥹

[grimgoregrimoire]

A Slice Of The Birthday Train-wreck

Characters & story by Izzy Gentz (me!)

Drabble sent in by @stargazer-sims

693 words

Trigger warnings: swearing, family problems, drug use mention, dark humor.

Notes:

Yes, I know a drabble is supposed to be 100 words, but I DO NOT CONTROL THE AMOUNT OF WORDS I WRITE!!!! Also, I know this drabble was supposed to be about "cake," but evidently, this is the story that wanted to be told... I mean, cake, birthday... That's not too much of a stretch, right?

Thank you again to everyone who sent me one of these, and thank you for your patience.

A Slice Of The Birthday Train-wreck

No-where-fucking-good, WA

November 2 2005

14:00

Parker

---------

Conner, I know you opened this 'cause you're always bitching about being the only one who checks the mail so do me a favor and just hand this to Courtney.

Dearest Courtney, YOU ARE A BITCH! I wish I never met you never mind let you talk me into going home for my birthday!!!!

Thanks to you I've had the worst three days of my life, and that's coming from someone who has been legally dead.

You know, shit was actually going okay and I was delusional enough to think this might be the first of twenty-three birthdays that wasn't pure shit.

You know, my dad picked me up from the train station, he didn't once remind me how much easier it would be if I still had my car.

When I got to the house my little brother wanted to draw with me, we watched cartoons for like three hours straight. My sisters didn't just ignore me the entire time we had dinner, my middle sister even said she liked my hair. My mom made a cake that I swear was probably the second best thing that's ever been in my mouth and I didn't wake up with a broken spine from the couch.

Even when I was going to leave this morning, my ice queen of a mother gave me a HUG for Christ's sake! She even packed me a huge slice of this triple chocolate orgasm for the train.

Speaking of, this tall, gorgeous, professor-looking dude sat right next to me at the train station. He started talking to me, I got annoyed 'cause he could clearly see my headphones but he talked smoothly so I got over it.

And when he told me to get up and follow him, I thought "Damn, this week can't get any better!"

He took me into the bathroom and told me to get on my knees, and when I did he slammed and locked the door in my face, and took off with my bag!

I jimmied the lock and found out he was nice enough to leave my ticket and slice of cake of all things.

Luckily the train showed up almost as soon as I came out of the bathroom, but the ride sober and without headphones was going to last an eternity!

At least, that's what I thought before the train broke down three hours into the trip!

Did you know trains could break down? I didn't even know trains could break down!

But all of a sudden the train stopped in the middle of nowhere and the power went out and someone had to come tell us it would be a few hours before we got rescued unless we could call someone to come pick us up but guess who doesn't have a fucking quarter.

So anyway, I'm stuffing my face with the only thing that has survived the Alanis Morissette song that is my life, this beautiful chocolate cake (which is in pieces btw), while I'm writing this, and the reason I'm writing this? 'Cause I'm assuming you'll get this around the same time they call you to come pick up my mangled corpse after I've finally had enough and laid across the tracks, and if not it will be amazing proof for me to NEVER TRUST COURTNEY EVER AGAIN!!!

Should this be the words I ever speak I leave a message to each of you;

Nate, you know the rule we made and you know all the hiding spots, I never made new ones. I know I said I did but I didn't so don't worry about it.

Conner, I know you've been waiting for this day since we met in high school, my only request is that you make the dance on my grave sick as fuck and not just the regular jig.

Aaron, as the baby daddy of our beanie baby, I leave you all twenty-seven dollars and ninety-six cents in my bank account. Make sure Beanie goes to a good college.

Courtney, I WILL SEE YOU IN HELL, YOU BOTTLE BLONDE BITCH!!!!!!

With love,

Parker W.

[demonicintegrity]

Since Welcome Home just had a speedrun record for viral bullshit, lemme key y'all in on what today's creatives think about.

For context, I'm in art school. Everyone around me including myself all have some sort of personal project(s) we wanna publish one day/are working on currently. And those specific projects are meant to make money so it means reaching a wider set of people.

I have several professors touch on what our online portfolio and presence needs, and it's led into class discussions on balancing putting ourselves/our work out there and keeping privacy. On top of learning how to deal with predatory editors and safe pitching practices, my peers are strongly voicing their distaste for any sort of proximity with any fandom they could accomplish because of rampant parasocial behaviors.

I got a roommate who wants to write a graphic novel and part of it is a sorta commentary on tiktok stardom in particular. They explained some of it to us and we all agreed the only way it would ever work is if it never went viral and prayed tiktok never got its hands on it.

Back in my wannabe youtuber days I took a good study at youtubers and realize the best fanbases were on the smaller side and that were encouraged into a specific way of engaging. (Like coming together specifically to do analysis or specifically to discuss smth, etc.) By nature of what people were attracted to what content.

I got book ideas I simply will not go through with if I'm in a peak/going viral because I know people will not handle them well. They will be shelved for another time. I also need to clean out and update my half-abandoned youtube before I start buckling down on my artistic endeavors because I know how the internet is. Never mind the fact that I'm willingly kneecapping myself by refusing to interact with instagram and pulling away from using twitter professionally. I value my tumblr circle so fucking much because it's so not insane and more on the wavelength with my bullshit. And I'm holding onto this more than any How To Market With Social Media advice.

Said roommate who's super passionate about their graphic novel idea exploring fame and what not (which I really can't wait to see happen one day) took inspiration from whatever the fuck tiktok did with Penelope Scott that one time. They explained she had the perfect amount of space away from her presence and an amazing social media balance that couldn't have been better and yet still got drag through the mud. My understanding is that watching that happened made my roommate go "what if" and want to explore some more concepts regarding fame and parasocial relationships.

I'm lucky. I have had minor "popularity" in certain circles on Tumblr (apparently) and yet have never got too dragged into discourse. Especially considering I've been here since I was twelve. The worst I've gotten is from the sociopolitical side of things, some of y'all probably remember how terfs were up my ass that one time.

My point being: Artists who are aware and in the industry and these spheres right now are hyperaware of what their presence can do. Hyperaware that their social media doesn't get to be the luxury of just a fun thing but an extension of their work life. That combined with how even traditionally published authors are more expected to be their own marketing these days, we are much more aware and even prepared than the averaged hobbyist.

And that's partly why all art is such a miserable hobby right now.

Never mind gaming algorithms and playing the luck game to even get seen, never mind the cultural idea that art is just something to be consumed and tossed out like it's a disposable napkin, but the average person is not prepared to handle what happens when lots of people start interacting with you specifically for your work. The masses simply cannot get their act together, especially in a post-covid world.

And the solutions aren't simple. Largely because the only way this is going to get better is if the people consuming learn how to behave. And you and I both can assume how likely that's going to be. Truly, I think meaningful change starts with media literacy. Just learning how to critically think about a piece. But I don't even think that's being taught in public schools, let alone to the focus it needs to have.

If we want the masses to stop harassing people unfortunately we gotta hope they have the reading comprehension to understand what's being put out there. That way they don't come out of left field with a wild accusation.

I remember being in 8th grade reading The Taming of The Shrew and the teacher have exactly zero acknowledgement on the blatant abuse that was taking place. The most we got from the class or her was "dang they didn't like women back then. Wild how she changed after being with this guy for only a short bit. anyways." and move on.

(I remember ranting to my mom borderline horrified how no one else was acknowledging the blatant abuse and horror. And how I just knew some boy my age was gonna sit in that class and read it and not see what was wrong cuz it wasn't explained. No one wanted to put effort understanding Ye Olde Speech. My mom was sorta proud of me in that moment. Said she would've never thought about those sorta things and thought I'd make a good teacher.)

I watched a Ted Ed last quarter in my philosophy class about an after school program teaching porn literacy and sex ed. The person speaking was pleasantly surprised at what was coming from the students once they were interested and encouraged. She (and our class) were horrified realizing porn was the only sex ed most teens were getting.

But my point here being: Teens were not engaging critically, not knowing how to properly get something out of media without being explicitly taught and walked through how to do that. Even though they were actively trying to learn something and intake information, they don't know how. I know my English classes were mostly just "we read this now write a paper about this from the text. Cite your sources and explain yourselves." But even I didn't know what explain yourselves meant and I did great in English.

And now attention spans seem to be on the fritz and the mob mentality is more rabid than ever.

I love making art so much. But trying to put anything out there is gonna suck because now I have to pull out ten different formulas of how do I get a big enough audience to sustain me but also curate and attract people who wont approach this/me in bad faith. All while knowing my social media will immediately become an extension of my work life instead of the stuff I do for funsies.

[surveysand]

eight.

Will you answer these questions as personally as you can? sure.

Why are you happy? i actually don't think i'm in a very happy place right now in general. things that make me happy all the time though are my dog and listening to music.

Who’s the last person you hugged? my partner.

Would you pay someone to kill the person who hurt you a lot? no, even though the person that came to mind deserves every ounce of horrible things coming to him.

Do you like the song ‘Sick Little Games’ by All Time Low? haven't heard it but i hate all time low so i probably wouldn't like it even if i did.

Last night you felt? restless. my partner was taking up a lot of the bed, lol, and my dog was really anxious for some reason.

How are you feeling right now? sleepy.

Are you drifting away from someone you were close with? no.

Is there someone you’d like to fix things with? no, i think anyone i no longer associate with is a relationship that is better not being reconciled. some things are for the better.

Have you ever liked someone that treated you like crap? no. i'm very strong-willed and don't put up with being treated poorly.

What are you listening to? the episode of impractical jokers i'm watching on the side while doing this.

Have you ever stayed in a hotel? many times.

What is in your pocket? i currently am not wearing something with pockets.

What was the worst feeling you last felt? anxiety.

Have a best friend? yes.

Does it bother you when your best friend does stuff without you? no.

Do you keep any secrets from your best friend? not intentionally, unless it's a surprise for her.

What were you doing 60 minutes ago? surveys.

Is there a secret you’ve never told your parents? many.

What’s something that can always make you feel better? listening to music and falling asleep.

What do you want right now? a job.

What would you name your future son? noah.

If you had to eat 1 thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? sushi. there's enough variation that i wouldn't get bored.

How’s your life lately? tough. i'm dealing with a lot of conflicting emotions and am at a pretty significant turning point. i feel really overwhelmed and just want all of the craziness to die down and go away.

Last person to send you a text? my partner.

What were you doing at 8:00 this morning? waking up to feed my dog.

Did you have a good birthday this year? my birthday hasn't happened yet.

Have you done anything embarrassing lately? not that i can think of.

Do you trust easily? no. i've been burned one too many times to be so easily willing to give someone my trust.

Do you like cookies n’ cream ice cream? yes, one of my favorite flavors.

How often do you raise your hand in class and answer a question? when i was in class, it depended on many things: the professor, the subject, etc.

Ever been mistaken for someone else, and took it as an insult? no.

Would you get a mega bag of skittles, or three regular ones? three regular ones. i feel like candies taste better when they're in smaller quantities.

What color shirt are you wearing? navy blue.

Is there a boy that would do absolutely everything for you? yes.

Did you ever think you had the Swine flu? no.

Who was the last person to smoke a cigarette in your presence? no idea. the only people i know who smoke are my partner's parents and they always do it away from people.

Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? my partner.

Are you a mean person? i've been told i can be.

Does anyone hate you? probably.

Do you usually tell people when you’re mad at them? yes. i can't stand when someone is upset with you and just gives you the silent treatment or acts like everything is fine.

This time last year, can you remember who you liked? yes.

Will this weekend be a good one? hopefully.

Have you ever liked someone older than you? yes.

Are you mad at someone right now? no.

[greypetrel]

For the kiss and tell, do I name just the OC(s) or the prompt to go along with it as well?

Just a few (too many) ideas:

Dionysos / Luke: a kiss shared during a game 

Dionysos / Apollo: kissing them to shut them up

Seren's parents (maybe when they first met? It's Ireland after all 😜) sharing a kiss in a heavy downpour of rain

Orestes / Dylan, the OTP: kiss to resolve suppressed romantic/sexual tension

Shahra / Winnie / Mr Darcy (or any combination thereof): a kiss after joining your lover in the shower

Pick the one you wanna do the most 💜

Love, Aimée

Hello! <3

Thank you for the lots of prompts! I did one, may return to do some others… And in writing. I've not been so inspired with TLB, but this may be the way to kick me back in again!

For all the others who don’t know what this is about: These are characters from the webcomic I’ve been writing and drawing (the colours are made by one of my dearest friends, who’s not on Tumblr actively for me to tag) in the last years: @thelastbacchae. It’s Greek Mythology set in the modern day. Seren is a Classic enthusiast who went on a school trip and had a too close encounter with Dionysos, who now lives with her as the house cat. It turned out that Seren’s parents… Already knew Dionysos, and Circe as well.)

I wanted to post a couple, but this was something I had in mind since LONG and… My hand slipped. And I’m wordy.

Seren's parents (maybe when they first met? It's Ireland after all 😜) sharing a kiss in a heavy downpour of rain

There really was no point, then. The refusal stung bitterly at him, as much as one big part of his brain told him he has been overly lucky to get out of that room with just a bloody nose, not broken, a black eye and bruises all over. And two gods walking behind him, quarrelling fiercely amongst them, as they never seemed to stop doing.

The last three weeks had been a blur of events, and he felt his life turned upside down, in the worst possible way. He celebrated his first year in Dublin, his Diploma in Old Irish for his PhD, and acceptance on the second year of Early Irish. The exam session was oncoming, but he wasn’t worried about that. That was, indeed, the least of his problems.

The biggest one, now, was how ever he was going to explain to professor Byrne the poor state of his appearance. He watched himself in the reflection of a car, and he looked like he ran face first against a double decker. Very unbecoming for a Trinner assistant, he knew. He just hoped that Trinity had a more lenient environment than Oxford. Or he was fucked.

The second problem, was the fact that he apparently had made friends with none other than Circe. Sorceress, daughter of Helios, the very same. She was nice company, normal enough or striving to be so. They met when they both were new at university, and he caught on pretty quickly that there was something weird with her. For once, she enrolled in a post-graduate course and had no idea on how universities worked. He had been told many times that he was “Born an old man”, his social life was close to zero, outside books and old ruins, but she beated him in stride. They clicked, he helped her out, she told him who he was. It was as good as it could get, being underdogs together.

And then, her friend came by in town. Her friend who was Dionysos. Her friend who was suddenly VERY interested in him, because a friend of his -Tom didn’t understand if it was a boy or a girl, they called them John and Ariadne interchangeably- had to… Reincarnate. And he was supposed to be the father. Apollo told them so.

What Tom didn’t know, beside the fact that he should really have paid more attention to Plato’s theory, apparently, was that ancient deities are apparently terrible matchmakers.

Because the supposed mother was none other than Johanna Connelly. The most beautiful girl in the camp, a brilliant name in the Microbiology Faculty, so much so that her name was known even in Humanities. And, an activist.

Tom knew her. Tom knew her on sight, and it would be a lie saying that when they told him, his heart didn’t skip a beat at the idea and suddenly fell like the main character of a fairy tale.

Except, gods are real, but fairy tales aren’t, and Johanna and him lived on different planets. She was popular, fashionable, had lots of friends she went out with, she was Irish and could be found on campus distributing fliers and informative leaflets about this and that social cause. Once she tied herself to the doors to protest for equal rights. Tom never saw anything so beautiful, like Queen Medb facing the ire of Conchobar and kicking him out of her palace, powerful and unstoppable. And it was rumoured her brothers were activists up in Belfast, fighting for the reunification. Some said IRA, whispered as a secret. But Tom heard. And he was but an English bookworm, with a penchant for ancient Celtic history that always made him too enthusiast in speaking, a heavy Hampshire accent on his own, socially awkward, knew nothing about fashion, and too shy and timid to enter some social protest.

It was impossible, as three weeks of setting ups showed. And there’s really a long way two gods can go to set you up with another mortal. A long way. But it wasn’t enough if none of them was Aphrodite or Eros, and one of the pair refused to call them, refused to force her into something she may not want. It didn’t feel right.

He tried to talk to her, tried to bring her flowers -but he chose Orchids for their meaning of beauty and charm… And she protested that he spent money on flowers that were imported from so much south, releasing pollution into the air with who knew how many consequences, the planet wouldn’t survive so long if we keep wasting fuel for orchids. She was right, and he was mortified. He should have thought it. Diotima -Circe- had grumbled that there was no need to be so bitchy about it. But he stopped her. They tried again. And again. Going to a party she was at didn’t work, he didn’t find an excuse to greet her and she started dancing with one of her friend. Or was it a girlfriend?. Same pub? He got caught to drink by a group of friendly people, and by the time he could look up she was gone. They had no lesson in common, couldn’t study together.

Desperate, he listened to the rumours. He sought a group of young militants for Ulster Independency. Not the IRA, of course. Baby steps.

Diotima had told him it was a terrible idea. Dionysos scrunched his nose at the methods, grumbled it was his brother’s territory and he could help little… But admitted it could have worked. Just show up, see what they’re talking about, we’ll bring you out if it escalates.

The situation didn’t escalate so quickly. He entered a cell of young people, found by the two gods, and for the first time it was nice. He used his mother’s surname, O’Sullivan, instead of his father’s, told them he was Irish, but his family had to move to England. Gained sympathies. He had brains to him, which was appreciated, he could talk about philosophy and the reunions he attended were just that. Talking.

For a minute, Diotima and his conscience telling him that it was wrong, he should lose them and get out while he still could, it was all right. It was fun, it was nice, he felt part of something bigger and he felt amidst friends.

So much that, this evening, he told them.

Told them his surname was Calvert, just his maternal grandfather was Irish, that he grew up in Southampton, was English, but loved Ireland more than he could say, and felt so welcome.

They didn’t take it well.

By the time Diotima flashed them, becoming incandescent as the sun for a moment, and Dionysos flicked his fingers a purple haze -Dionysos hummed Jimi Hendrix’s song as it did- rose up in the room, rendering everyone too stunned to do much but flop on the ground and laugh in an alcoholic stupor, he was spitting blood, his nose bleed profusely, one of his eyes was so swelled he couldn’t see, and he was so sore that breathing hurt.

The two brought him out, Circe fed him a very bitter plant that made his bleeding stop, and here they were, returning home under a sky that promised rain, dark and cloudy as his mood. He left his umbrella in the flat, and someone took his wallet. He had no money to go back home -gods tend to forget of the practicality of life, at least Circe apologized- and so he was walking, all the way to Rathmines, feeling hopeless and stupid.

“This was the stupidest idea ever! How could you think it would work?”

“Oh sure, because the orchids were so effective!”

“Orchids to an environmentalist! What a great idea!”

“I grew them myself, they didn’t pollute anything!”

“Sure, cow-head, because mortals contemplate the fact that flowers grow when you step!”

“Said the one who made one friend and spat everything out!”

“At least my mortal friend doesn’t hate me! When was the last time you even saw John? Eh? When the Beatles split?”

“You’re insufferable!”

“Said the god of ritual madness!”

Tom couldn’t take it one minute more. He had enough. So, he took the situation in his hands, and for once in his life gave in to anger, turning on his heels and yelling right back.

“Would you please stop it?!”

They did, both snapping their heads toward him, surprised. Tom straightened his eyeglasses on his nose, broken but better than not having them. He could see through the cracks.

“It won’t work, no matter how hard you try. I let myself hope miracles could happen and look at me. I’m hurting all over, I will be kicked out tomorrow because I was stupid about this whole story, and without this PhD, I have nothing! I’ll end up digging some place random, never publish my own research, and for what? For running after a fairy tale?”

He leashed out, clenching his fist at his sides and swallowing some more blood that trickled down his throat from his nose, the agitation opening wounds up again.

“I am sorry I made you lose so much time, it was fun spending time with you and Circe, you’re my best friend and I love you. But sincerely, I’m out. I give up. Find another guy.”

If Circe looked down at the pavement, with real sorrow, Dionysos just glared at him with some threat. Like a panther stalking its prey, golden eyes closing down at him, lips contracting in a thin line.

“There’s a prophecy.” He hissed, gravely.

“I don’t care.” Tom debated, shrugging. “It’ll come true whether I’m trying or not. Or it was another Thomas Calvert, or another Historian. I… I’m sorry. I can’t do this, not anymore.”

Tom was, indeed, sorry. He turned on his heels, leaving them. Remotely, he could hear the noise of a step, some breath taken too quickly, before Circe spoke. “No. Let him go.”. He was grateful for her, really. She was company when he was alone, and he was sad to have disappointed her in helping with her family. He would have bought her some baklava from the place she liked most. If she ever showed up on Campus again.

He turned a corner and he was alone, none following him. That was good. Now if the sky, or Zeus at this point, would just start raining, he would have been satisfied and allowed himself to cry. As childish as it would be, he needed crying. He really like Johanna, he admired her strength, her willingness to fight so fiercely for others, for people she didn’t even know. He wasn’t like that, and would never be. His place was in the back of a library, submerging in another world, another time when things were, apparently, easier. Or at least, certain in their ending. The present had not the certainty of history, if you didn’t know the future. Or if the future you knew clearly didn’t talk about you.

Vaguely he could hear faint steps behind him, of a person who was running. A person with heels, from the concitated click-clack of heels. He couldn’t care less. The streetlight was red anyway, he just stepped on the side to let the runner pass easily.

But, to his surprise, he felt someone grabbing at his elbow, strongly, and try to turn him around.

The panic from the afternoon he just spent rose up again instinctively, and his first reaction was to resist the movement and crouch down again, to protect himself. Not another time, please. Not today.

Nonetheless, the hand of his elbow resisted, and it became two hands, one on the opposite shoulder, clenching down.

“Hey! Hey, it’s me! I’m not gonna hurt you!”

He froze on his spot, not daring to open his eyes. Or well, the one eye that was functional at the moment.

“I’m so sorry, I heard… I came as fast as I could. Did they…” The hands shifted. “Oh, feck, what did they do to you…”

There was a sad rage in the voice that was speaking to him. A feminine voice he knew, even if he never heard them with that tone of voice. It was a voice fit for indignation, for speaking up, for denouncing and for justice. The tenderness was… Weird. In a nice way that poked directly at his heart and at some budding feeling. He opened his eye, tentatively, and…

… And Johanna Connelly was staring at him, frowning in disapproval, but with a weird turn of her lips. Something that, again, spoke of tenderness.

“I-I’m sorry.” He told her, instinctively, trying to retract from her.

“Of what?” She snorted, shaking her head in a wave of loose curls. “I am sorry for you. I was there to pick my brother up… And he told me what happened. He recognised you in that room. I was close by.”

She confessed, calmly. It didn’t seem like she hated him.

“There was…?”

“Yes, Oisin. That idiot. Tall, red leather jacket. Tell me he didn’t…”

He remembered him. So Circe and Dionysos DID got him in the right group after all. He hadn’t bothered to ask for everyone’s surnames.

“He didn’t.”

“He didn’t even stop them tho. Oh, I’m going to punch him.” She groaned, furrow deepening on her face.

Tom could not make out heads from tail about why exactly she was there. Sure, by his many trials to approach her, she must remember him… But running after him after he was beaten?

“I- There’s no need to. I was stupid about it, and… Johanna, right?” He cleared his throat, embarrassed and dying to change the subject.

“Yes. And you’re Thomas. From Celtic Studies.”

“I-… Do you know me?”

“Orchid lad? How could I forget!” She laughs, briefly and clear, patting his shoulder and offering her arm to take. “Genius English that can take every Irishmen on Gaelic and even speaks some Welsh? You’re not so invisible as you think you are.”

The way she said it, with a warm smile on her face, it really seemed like a compliment. He smiled back, taking her arm with his and letting her lead him across the street. They exchanged small talk, topic going to something lighter and less consequential. He told her he was going to Rathmines, and that he forgot his wallet in the jacket back there, with his umbrella. She promises to bring everything back to him, should she kick every one of the idiots in the group herself. She assured him he would not have been fired, no matter what those pompous stuck-ups at Oxford would have said. This was no England anymore, luckily.

She brought him to a bus stop and put some coins in his hand, telling him he would have given them back later, it was not a problem.

“It’s really the least I could do, after my brother just… Watched as a bunch of eejits beated you because you happened to be English.” She snorted.

“It is not a problem, for you? You seem very active and… Well…”

“The rumours?” She sighed, heavily, crossing her arms before her chest. “Don’t tell me you believe them, please. Some people just see anyone standing up for civil rights and shout at the IRA. I hate this situation. I hate this country.”

It broke his heart a little, in compassion. He could relate wanting to get away from a country you don’t like. He already ran from England, after all.

“It’s not so bad. You have no Margaret Thatcher running for PM, at least…”

She laughed at that, turning towards him with a bigger smile.

“But living in London would be so fun.”

“Tell me after you look at the rental prices.”

He laughed as well, joining her. For a minute, they laughed together, and she leaned her hand on his arm again. Tom’s heart beated fast. She wasn’t so difficult to talk to, after all. Quite the contrary. She looked up again, smiling.

“I’m sorry about what happened, really. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Don’t mention it. You shouldn’t have run after me like that. I appreciate it! But I… I must not have made a good impression to you.”

Johanna’s smile faltered, head leaning on the side.

“Why so? You’ve been around for some time, yes, but what did you do wrong?”

“The orchids. And… Well.” He indicates himself.

“You’re pointing at the whole of you.” She noted, amused.

“Bookworm, human disaster, I’ll show up tomorrow with the ugliest pair of extra eyeglasses ever. I actually like tweed.”

She laughed again, loud and boisterously. Very little feminine, but Tom couldn’t care less. She was even more beautiful.

“It’s not that bad, and come on. It could be worse.”

“… It could be raining?” He couldn’t help the quotation, a dope smile creeping on his face. Crooked and ugly, but happy. She didn’t seem to mind that he wass beaten up, and smiled back, the same glint in her eyes.

“Want to dig up some cemeteries? I could do some studies over corpses and skeletons…”

And then, as on clue, a first drop of rain fell down, hitting Johanna’s hand. Big and fat. A second followed, on Tom’s nose. A third, a fourth, a fifth… And suddenly, it was heavily pouring over them, on their own with no umbrella, Tom didn’t even have a jacket to be gallant and cover her up. They laughed, madly and furiously, Tom made a bold move and circled her shoulder under his arm, dragging her against the wall of the closest building for the small repair of the roof up above. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Johanna patted on his chest, clearing her throat.

“Your bus is coming.”

“Oh.”

A pause, both looking at the double decker slowly approaching. With disappointment.

“Would you like to lunch together, tomorrow?” He asked, abruptly, averting his eyes suddenly as he realised that he was still hugging her shoulders and now asking her to lunch together. “Ah… So I can give you back your money, that is.” He corrected.

“I’d like that. Very much. Even if you don’t have the money. 12:30 at the Campanile?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good.”

And with that, and all of a sudden, as the bus was getting closer and closer, she pushed up on her toes, grabbed his pullover on his chest to bring him down and meet his lips in a soft, sweet kiss, slick with rain, but very careful not to hurt him. Delicate, but not casual. He kissed her back, closing his eyes and sighing into it, heart beating a crazy rhythm in his ears.

“Now, Orchid lad, go home and get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He couldn’t but smile at her, at the faint blush on her high cheekbones.

She snorted again, shaking her head and bringing him to the bus again, by his arm. She got assured he had enough for the ticket, and waved a goodbye as he stood to watch her.

“I’m sorry for the orchids. They were pretty.”

“You were right about them. I’d find you better flowers. If you’d like.”

She laughed again. Masculine and unapologetic.

“You’re so English, asking please and thank you even for flowers!”

“Shouldn’t I do it?”

“Stop it! But no. It’s cute.”

Tom couldn’t reply with anything in time, as the doors of the bus closed between them. All that was left was wave each other goodbye with their end, equally blissful smiles on both faces.

Maybe, after all, Tom shouldn’t give up.

He would have brought a double dose of baklava to Circe. And maybe some tartare to Dionysos. He said he favoured raw meat, after all. He would have apologised to both of them. Maybe fairy tales did come true, after all.

[snippychicke]

For the Sake of a Smile --Short 2

Title: For the Sake of a Smile-- Short Two: Kalego's Home Visit

Fandom: Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun!

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen. And the fact your coworker was a child. Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but smiled despite everything.

And you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a demon and signing your life away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Chapter Two | AO3

Kalego saved the worst for last. The Sullivan mansion was lit up against the dark sky, and full of some of the demons he dreaded the most. Well, Iruma wasn't that bad a student, especially compared to how he could be, and the boy was striving hard with his studies, and had even rallied the rest of his class around him. And you weren't terrible either, even if you did invade his office that one time.

Balam seemed to trust you  and that was often enough for Kalego. 

Granted, Balam also trusted Lord Sullivan and Opera, and, well, that was the reason he hesitated at the door. His hand clenched into a fist, raised to knock, but he was having difficulty doing so.

Lord Sullivan. Opera. 

He could get lucky. You could answer, and he could quickly give his assessment of Iruma and then leave before he ever saw the other two demons. 

Alternatively, Opera or Lord Sullivan could answer. And then his nightmare would truly begin. 

Kalego grinded his teeth and slammed his knuckles in quick succession against the door. What was he? A coward? He could face those two, he wouldn't enjoy it, but if he had survived thus far…

The demon king himself had to be smiling on him as you opened the door, looking rather surprised by his presence. "Professor Kalego? What are you doing here?" 

"The Chairdemon had the wonderful idea that I should visit the Misfit class' family before the final exams," he grounded out. "What should have been a relaxing day at home has been.nothing short of torture." 

Thankfully, there was sympathy in your expression. "Or for the love of… I take it that's not typical?" 

"No, this would be the first year I've had to do such a thing." 

"If you want, we can discuss things back at the school come Monday. Or do you want to come in and get it over with? I promise, either way, I won't make you stay long, or drink my attempt at tea." 

A shiver ran down the demon's spine as he recalled your attempt at tea. He wasn't sure how anyone could ruin such an easy drink, but you were now infamous for a drink that could kill a demon where he stood, without a drop of poison. 

"Let's get this over with," he sighed and stepped inside as you opened the door further. He automatically scanned for any sign of red hair, or Sullivan's plum suit. But there was neither as you led him towards an office just off the main hall. Quiet, no chairdemon or his security devil to torment him. 

"I could ask Opera to bring some tea," you offered, back turned so you didn't see Kalego's eyes widen slightly at the perceived threat. 

"No! There's, uh, no need," he coughed when you looked back at him, rather confused. "I would prefer to be quick, so I'd prefer to forgo the pleasantries." 

"As you wish," you submitted, gesturing to the small couch as you sat across on the straight back chair. "So, how has Iruma been doing, truly?" 

Kalego pulled the notebook from his bag, "The first half of the semester, his grades were abysmal, but-!" He froze as he looked back, and somehow Lord Sullivan had appeared beside you, squirming in place like an excited child. 

"Do tell how our little Iruma-kins have been doing!" Sullivan prompted as Kalego froze. “Is he doing well? Eating well? Any bullies?” 

“You know very well the answers to those questions,” Kalego growled, “Considering you’re the chair demon.” 

“Now, be nice, Kalego,” Opera spoke from behind him, nearly spooking him out of his skin. “You know how much Lord Sullivan worries about his grandson.” 

“Where did you come from?” Kalego hissed, scrambling away from the other demon. 

Opera simply smiled as he offered the younger demon a cup of tea. “It would be rude if I didn’t welcome my kohai into my lord’s home.” 

You muttered something under your breath that sounded like a swear, which comforted Kalego a small, tiny bit. At least he wasn’t the only reasonable adult in the room. “Professor, I apologize for the intrusion. Do you want to continue with your observations so you can continue with your evening?” 

“Yes,” Kalego jumped at the chance, though relishing a sip of tea that Opera provided. He may be cautious of the red-haired demon, but their tea was often perfectly brewed and refreshing after the never-ending nightmare of a day.

Thankfully, the rest of the evening went smoothly, with you reigning Lord Sullivan in whenever he started to get too excited. It was actually amusing to see you grab the chairdemon by the ear with a growl when Sullivan reached for the notebook he kept on Iruma. 

Lord Sullivan was a rank nine demon, and you, a demoness who was supposedly unranked and unknown until your mysterious appearance, son in tow, just months before. Rumor had it that you had been raised by your mother in a far-off part of the Netherworld before some kind of tragic accident left you and Iruma in Lord Sullivan’s outstretched arms. 

But Kalego placed little trust in those rumors, mainly because they sounded like a bad plot to one of the novels Momonoki and Raim seemed to enjoy. Yet, also because he had never heard of any place in the realm that would cause you to act with such disregard for rank. Even if Lord Sullivan was your true father, his rank demanded respect no matter how irritating the elder demon could act. Especially since he was also a part of the Three Heroes as well as chairdemon of Babyls. 

Either, you ranked equal to Lord Sullivan, which was hard to believe despite your son quickly climbing the ranks himself, or you truly had no regard for rank, which honestly made you even more dangerous. The rank system is what kept demon society together, otherwise the different clans would continue to be at each other’s throats to prove who was most powerful. 

Something, he felt, was amiss. And he wouldn’t rest until he figured out what. 

Chapter Three

[sunlightandsuffering]

I kinda had this HC for a while about Mikasa already having a bf when she meets Eren in a nightclub. She’s immediately attracted to him, and she ends up fucking him in a bathroom or something. It’s the best sex of her life and the connection she has with this boy is something she never thought was even possible. Mikasa feels guilty for cheating and not regretting it as much as she should, and Eren tries to get her name, her number, anything to see her again, but Mikasa escapes, racked by guilt. She then gets the surprise of her life when the same hot stranger that has been occupying all her thoughts since their tryst waltzes in her college class…

wow i defs love this trope! i think i've seen it before in other fandoms maybe its so fun!!

Mikasa is still dealing with the after-effects of her night out, the guilt, the hangover, the bruised hips from where he'd held her like she was his everything, the hickeys sucked into her neck from where he'd marked her as his.

It was the best night of her young life, the best sex she's ever had, and worst of all is the guilt. Not the guilt of actually fucking a hot stranger in the bathroom at the club for Annie's bachelorette, no the guilt that she's no guilty in the least. She doesn't regret it in the slightest, and if it weren't for that pesky buzzing against the counter, her phone angrily ringing Porco's personalized ringtone, she'd have given in and followed hime home. But it had been a rude awakening and as he'd pulled out, both of them wincing a little at the loss of him, milky white staining her thighs the only evidence left of what they'd just done. Everything had donned on her and she'd shut down. "I'm sorry I can't do this, I have a boyfriend."

"I- I understand," " he says, desolate. For a moment Mikasa thinks it's over, he'll let her go and they'll both live to regret not saying more because she knows she'll enver find this again, it'll never be so easy.

But then his head whips up, eyes lit with determination, "No, you know what, please, take my number, can I have yours? Anything. I don't care if it's a week, a month, a year, when you break up with him please. Just contact me, let me have a chance, what's your name please?" She pulls back, already tugging up her panties, "No, I can't I'm not a cheater." "Please," he whispers, as he lets her go, slipping through from his fingers as she tugs her dress back into place. "I can't."

"At least let me give you mine, the ball is in your court, I just can't let this be, I've never-" he stops himself, a pained smile on his face, "I've never felt like this before, I've been with a lot of girls, in a lot of different clubs, but with us, it's just I don't know it's electric, this connection, I feel like..." He trails off and his hand finds her cheek, large calloused palm cupping it as he tilts her head up, "I fee like it's fate, like I was meant to find you." "I can't."

So she'd left before he could stop her, do any more convinving than he already had, get her to break. And now, all she's left with is the aching reminder of where him, how he'd stretched her full, fucked her good, kissed her like she was the air he breathed, the most intense, passionate sex of her life and she'd given it up for fucking Porco of all people. The douche canoe she's dating that barely spares her a glance when she comes home.

The asshole she's been with since the fifth grade when he'd actually been a nice boy, and now he's just a rich overgrown manchild playing with daddy's money and her on the side. Fuck her morals, she almost wishes she'd taken that number, because now she'll never see him again. She sighs, sinking further into the uncomfortable plastic of the lecture hall seats as her professor finally arrives, more than a few minutes late. Mikasa pulls her laptop out, downloading the slides for the first lecture and finally her professor looks up. She's sitting in the fourth row in the corner so she has a good view, long chestnut hair with honeyed highlights tucked into a knot at the base of his neck, glasses that frame those entrancing green eyes beautifully, and a worst of all that mouth. Those full lips she knows work wonders on her cunt, then back up to her lips as he asks her how she tastes?

Their eyes lock together as he fiddles with his mic and his mouth parts in shock, becuase fate certainly is a crafty bitch. It's the guy from last night, Professor Yeager, hot young doctoral student who's teaching her intro to commerce lecture.

She's so fucked.

[angelhummel]

what’s your take on quinn’s sexuality? do you think she’s gay/bi, or do you think she was just experimenting by sleeping with santana?

For me personally, I see her as a lesbian. That probably isn't what RM was going for, and I don't think it should get full credit as real representation bc it was so half baked, but that is definitely what I see

I think she was 100% a lesbian with one of the worst cases of comphet ever seen on television, but especially this show. We got to see glimpses into her family life and the kind of pressures that were put on her to be this sweet and perfect little All American Girl

She held onto her high school popularity with an iron grip, and I think that goes back to her family as well. She says that status is like currency - when your bank account is full, you can get away with doing anything. And that being popular was all that mattered to her mother since she put it as her main extracurricular activity when applying for college

And if you want to be the most popular queen bee, you need the king to go along with it. Finn was that for her, for a little while. He was the quarterback to her head cheerleader. Obviously that got messed up with the whole pregnancy thing. But come s2 she tries to get back on track with Sam, who is now the hot popular football star that she can hitch her wagon to and gain her popularity back

I've compared Quinn and Rachel in this regard, and it's part of why I so strongly hc them both as lesbians. Because the only interest they ever show in guys is in regards to what said guy can give them. For Rachel, it's always a duet partner. For Quinn, it's status

Finn and Sam for the first few seasons. Even when she is no longer romantically interested in Finn, she still campaigns with him for prom king and queen. With the professor in s4, I don't think she could've flaunted that without the professor getting in trouble. But I could see how it would still give her a smug sense of superiority, even if it was private. And then again with Biff in s5, being the old money high society guy whose parents she's trying to impress and get in with that crowd. Even with Puck after that, they say they're only giving dating a try bc they never did before. And by the time we see them again in s6, they certainly aren't acting like a couple, so we can assume that fell through

I truly do think that Quinn had feelings for/was attracted to Rachel for most of the first half of the show they hardly ever interact past s3 oops. There are some things you just can't explain away with basic high school rivalry, I don't care how hard you try

And her escapades with guys either seem to get shut down immediately (removing Finn or Sam's hands from her whenever they start to get too touchy feely) or end in regret (basically... every other instance of her fooling around with a guy)

I really think the instance with Santana is the only time we see Quinn like happy and having fun in a sexual situation. She's all smiles the whole time, she's even the one that leads Santana down the hall and opens the door for their hotel room. She's taking the initiative for pretty much the first and only time when it comes to something like this. And afterwards, she can admit she had a good time, but I don't think it means she's ready to admit to herself that she needs to look inward and really start figuring things out

So like yes it is experimentation, but as a stepping stone in her journey of realizing she's a lesbian. Bc idk sometimes you don't know what you like until you try it and I don't think we should shame people for taking the steps they need to figure out who they are. That's my two cents

I think if the writers weren't total cowards, they would've made Quinn gay. And then the whole Unholy Trinity would be queer, and then maybe I miiight start to think of them as iconic lol. I mean how perfect would that have been? Quinn and Santana spending their high school years constantly competing with one another. Fighting over status and boys - wanting the hottest boyfriend, wanting to be head Cheerio, wanting to be prom queen, etc. And then they both realize they're lesbians in their own time, and it brings them closer together. And they laugh about how silly they were in high school and how pointless it all seems now, and they go from being like mean girl high school clique friends to creating a genuine friendship and also Brittany is there too i guess

That really could've been fun and interesting, and even more meaningful than just having one girl with a touching coming out story and also brittany is there too i guess. But yeah. Really think that would've made them too powerful and the writers couldn't handle it

TL;DR: Quinn is a lesbian. I think she's gay. I think she was experimenting with Santana and I think the conclusion of that experiment is that she's gay but either is still figuring things out or still can't admit it to herself.

[arminbitchlover]

reincarnated lovers (1)

armin arlert x f!reader

summary: in their past life, reader and armin's love journey is cut short with the tragic death of reader from a deadly plague. now, they are once again reunited, but somehow everything feels wrong between them.

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: death

1349

"Armin... it hurts." You dazed off and felt nothing but sharp pains all over your body.

Your throat was dangerously dry, and your stomach grumbled from the lack of food you couldn't properly digest. You suffered from the feeling of a knife being pushed into your lungs and when you tried to pick up your head, black dots overtook your fuzzy vision. Every time you tried to move a muscle, the pain would exponentially heighten, and experienced your abdomen compress with an exorbitant amount of pressure.

"N-no please don't leave me yet. What about all our plans together? Going to the beautiful forest behind the hills for our anniversary next week, building a house to move in together, getting married, a-and start a family..." Armin's voice cracked as tears cascaded down his cheek and dripped onto your arm.

You sensed a soft warm hand grab yours which caused your heartbeat to quicken as you felt it coarse throughout your body.

This is the end.

You knew this was your last few moments on earth with your soulmate. It was over so fast. Too fast. You couldn't believe you wouldn't be able to fill the promises you made with your lover. This was your only and last chance at this life, and it was over in nineteen years, only four of them being spent with the person you thought you would grow old with

"Stay away... get sick..." You jerked your arm away from Armin unaware that you didn't feel the need to chug a gallon of water to quench your throat and that the nauseating feeling from hunger completely vanished as you kept slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Don't do this shit to me right now, I'm staying by your side no matter what." He lightly caressed your face not caring about the black lumps that engrossed your skin.

He knew he would become infected sooner or later and understood that this would be it for you even though he couldn't find it in himself to believe it.

"I-I-I'm sorry." You felt the back of your throat get knotted up but couldn't produce any tears.

You slowly moved your hand back down to your side, not feeling the aching pain that had taken over your body, as you barely brushed his fingertips.

"Baby, what are you apolo... not your fault." He looked down to your palm and intertwined his fingers with your cold limp hand. He trailed his eyes back up to your face and saw your closed eyes.

"Y/n?" His breathing became shallow and irregular as he gently shook your body in an attempt to bring you back to consciousness.

You lightly squeezed his hand with the last bit of energy you had in you; letting him know that you were still with him.

This isn't the last time... swear to you we'll find each other again... I'll... protect you. I lo..."

And that was it.

The last words you heard.

Passing away was more peaceful than you imagined. It was just like going to sleep, except you knew that you wouldn't wake up with Armin by your side.

...we'll find each other again...

His last words kept replaying in your mind before your brain completely shut off. It made you happy. He made you happy. You died happy knowing that there was a chance to meet him again, but who are you kidding, this was it. It's over now.

Right?

Present Day

"I don't know if going on a date is the best thing to do right now, Sasha. I just got out of a three-year relationship with Jean and that was really rough." You grab a bag of chips and plop yourself onto your bed.

"Comeeee onnnnnn, y/n, I think you would really get along with this guy. I mean he's smart and kind anddddddddd has a pretty face!" She walks up to you and quickly steals a chip from you.

"Hey! Well as tempting as your mystery man sounds, my professors decided to assign a shitload of work, so I have to get busy." You pull out the box of textbooks from under your bed as you mentally prepare yourself for a draining weekend.

"Ugh, you're hopeless. Well, I'm going with Niccolo for a while, so have fun with... that! But if you change your mind, I'll text you his number." She grabs a Twinkie and skips out of your dorm room.

You figure that maybe she's somewhat right, but you know it's too soon to go out with another person. You and Jean had been together since high school and only broke up because you agreed that both of you needed time to find yourselves in college. It's very apparent that you still have some type of feelings for him even if it isn't love and it certainly didn't help that he goes to the same school as you.

But it is college. Even though the love you have towards Jean is still slightly there, maybe going out with another person was what you need to get over him. Even then, you wasted all your high school years getting good grades and being an A+ student that you never got to enjoy yourself and you weren't going to mess it up again. Besides what's the worst thing that could happen?

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

roomie <3

Today 5:12 PM

can you send me his number

AHH I KNEW IT

here ya go ;)

contact sent

ur a pain but thank u

you better tell me how it

goes!!

duhh

love u

love you moreee

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

While gazing at the contact, you can't quite explain the feeling you have in your stomach and could only call it excitement, but why?

You're just going out with a guy you've never even met before and for all you know, he could be some creepy perv who just wants to make you feel extremely uncomfortable for his own liking. You giggle to yourself as you keep on thinking of worst-case scenarios and become very aware of how in need you are of getting out of your dorm.

You sit and stare at your phone, wondering how to text someone who may not even remember his conversation about you with Sasha. But fuck it, it was just a date.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Maybe: Armin Arlert

Today 5:20

hey armin, i'm y/n and i don't

if you recall giving your number

to sasha but she said we would make

a great match so i would love to go

out with you later today !

Hey y/n, I do recall Sasha

talking about you and everything

so I would be honored to take you out! (:

Do you want to go out for

a coffie in about an hour?

yeah, that sounds great !

We can meet at the library.

alright, see you then (:

Read 5:31

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You feel your face warm up, excited to finally do something out of school and maybe have the possibility to meet someone who could be special. You waste no time sitting around, given that you had only an hour to look your best, and got ready.

You have ten minutes to spare after prepping yourself and decide to walk to the library a bit early. You head out of your dorm, still in disbelief that you're going out with someone who was a stranger. It's definitely more of an exhilarating feeling than a nervous one; this would be the second person you've ever gone out with, Jean being your first and only partner and you have to admit that you feel good. You could feel yourself growing as a person even if this was just a silly first date that could potentially mean nothing.

You make your way to the front of the library and right when you were about to open the door you hear your name being softly called out. You turn around and see a blonde boy with a blue-collar shirt and khakis.

Damn, you have no idea who this boy is and you don't care, but why is someone this gorgeous calling out to you? His doll-like skin complexion looks so soft and smooth while his shirt matches his blue eyes perfectly, and his khakis just adding on to his soft persona.

"Are you y/n?" He snaps you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

"Oh, um yes, and you're Armin? How did you know it was me?" You can't keep your eyes off of him. This is the mystery man that Sasha fixed you up with and, fuck, he's more beautiful than you could've pictured.

"Sasha showed me pictures of the two of you and I must say you're more stunning in person." His cheeks turn into a bright pink as he looks down, feeling as if he's embarrassing himself.

"Thank you and you're a lot more attractive than I ever imagined." You give him a friendly smile when he looks back up as he hears your compliment.

"The uh coffee shop is not far off-campus so we can walk if you like." He rubs the back of his neck, unsure how to begin your date.

"Yeah, that sounds great." You both walk together in awkward silence, not knowing how to start a chat with each other.

"So, Armin, what are you majoring in?" You turn your head towards him, but Armin seems to not want to make any eye contact with his hands in his pockets.

"Oceanography."

"That's cool, have you always loved the ocean or are you just experimenting with different fields?" You try to carry on with the conversation, hoping he would open up to your about his studies at the least.

"I've always loved the ocean."

"Are the classes you're taking pretty difficult?" You feel your face heat up as he continues to be difficult about continuing your attempted dialogue.

"No."

You start losing your patience with this boy. It frustrates you that no matter what you did he can't try to at least engage in the conversation. You knew from the beginning that this could've been a disaster, but it hadn't even started, and it's already exasperating.

You start to genuinely think of ideas to bail yourself out before it could get any worse, but no, you're going to finish this date whether it's awful or not and move on with your life. You told yourself you were evolving as a person and to bail would only be taking you a step back from the new you.

"How do you know Sasha," you ask him, making it your last-ditch effort to start a conversation as you arrive at the coffee shop.

"We met through a mutual friend at a party." He opens the door for you and both of you enter the cafe.

You and Armin are kindly greeted by the barista as you walk to to the cashier. Both of you order your drinks and sit at a table that's next to the glass wall.

"So, did you meet Sasha because you're dorm mates?" He finally ignites some type of conversation as he fidgets with his fingers.

"We actually somewhat knew each other through my ex-boyfriend and we randomly got paired to be dorm mates." You grin to yourself, thinking about how close you and Sasha got over the year.

Even if it was a bitter-sweet moment mentioning Jean, that you realize may not have been the best thing to do. You hear you and Armin's name being called, but right when you're about to get up Armin quietly spoke, "Stay here, I got it."

You watch him get up from his seat and walk back over to the cashier. He pulls out his brown leather wallet, pays for both of your drinks, and makes his way back to the table with a cup in each hand.

"Thank you for paying, you really didn't have to do that." You feel your cheeks get hot as you grab your drink, slightly grazing his fingers.

"It was no biggie." He shrugs his shoulder and slumps back to his seat.

Subsequently, the awkward silence is back, but a lot stronger than before. You can't understand why it's so difficult to get along with him if this was the date where you're supposed to get to know each other and have endless topics to discuss. You keep reassuring yourself that this would be over soon anyway and now you know that Armin just isn't the one for you and you're completely fine with that. At this point, you only see Armin as the boy you went on the most awkward date with and didn't even picture him as a friend.

"Sorry about this, I've never done anything like this before," he mumbles while tapping on the side of his cup, not wanting to look at you because he felt ashamed.

"O-oh, don't stress about it too much, it's my first date after getting out of my relationship so we're on the same boat." You both exchange warmhearted smiles, trying to break the tension but nothing seems to work.

"We can go back to campus. I have some assignments I need to finish up anyways," he suggests and you feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders. Even though Armin seems like a great person, both of you assume that your wavelengths couldn't match, and it was just best to end it.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I also need to catch up on schoolwork as well." Both of you grab your drinks and head back to school without trying to strike a conversation, knowing that it would just make the tension even more awkward.

As soon as you make it back to your dorm, you must say that you never feel happier to arrive in your shitty box.

"Well, thank you for the coffee and I hope you have a great weekend."

"Yeah, you too." You both wave bye and you walk into your dorm, feeling displeased.

While you didn't expect your date to be completely perfect and for you and Armin to fall in love, this was by far the last thing you wanted to happen.

It didn't take long for you to forget what had transpired as you change to comfortable clothes and start heavily working on your assignments. While you were finishing up on one of your worksheets, you feel your phone vibrate and see a text from Sasha.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

roomie <3

love you moreee

Today 7:47

you better still have some energy

left in you

??

i'm heading back to get dressed

cause we're going to go PARTYYYY

oh god sasha

i don't do well at parties

pleaseeeeee

i can introduce you to my friends

they're really cool

okayyy sure

so get dolled up

i'll be there soon <3

alright

Read 7:53

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[a-mended-pact]

Unsteady Keys: Chapter 9

A/n: Hey everyone. I hope you're all doing well. I'm pretty proud of this chapter. Please let me know what you think.

Warnings: this chapter does contain flashbacks, mentions of slightly toxic relationships. Mentions of Spencer's mom. Panic attacks. If there are anything more to add let me know

Requests are open

Word count : 3,024

It's been a couple of hours since we've gotten to work. I couldn't find Spencer anywhere. I needed to tell him that there was a lead on Lindsey due to Simmons giving Ethan a cognitive interview. I had called him a handful of times and gotten no answer.  Which is weird but with everything that's happened he has every right to have some alone time. I was still trying to call him when I found him in Morgan's old office. I don't know why I checked the cafeteria and the break room first. I felt myself facepalm as I looked around the room. 

He was in a daze and hadn't even noticed my presence until I moved myself into the floor across from him. I leaned against the desk for support as I looked up at him. He glanced at me and then looked away. The hand he was using to prop his head up seemed to tense. 

'You smell like mint and your cologne.' I said it with a small amount of amusement.  I knew he would change. It didn't bother me if anything. I'm surprised he even went to work with the smell of my essence laced into his skin and his breath. He nodded to acknowledge what I had said. 

'Love? Is everything alright?' He looked at me then and held my gaze. 'I know I said I'd talk to Ethan too but I can't seem to bring myself to. Seeing him for longer than a couple of hours has me remembering things with him so intensely.' 

A soft comforting smile formed on my face as I gently grabbed the hand that rested on his knee and squeezed. 'There's a lead on Lindsey.  I was going to leave with the rest of the team to go check it out. If you wanna stay here I can tell Em. Maybe you can get something more from Ethan. Then Matt did. ' I kissed his forehead gently.

Just like that. I left him to his own devices letting him figure everything out for himself.  I was gonna need to tell Em he wasn't coming.

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

I walked into the interrogation room with Ethan and undid his handcuffs immediately.  I didn't like seeing him like an unsub. So until further evidence came about I wasn't going to treat him as such. 

'You look like you've seen a ghost Reid.  What's wrong?' I looked at him as I stood against the wall. 'Did- did you?- ' I found myself stuttering and searching for words. My hands moved about as if I were trying to grasp each word that flew around my mind until it formed a sentence. How do you speak to someone that you haven't spoken to in years? Not in depth anyway. 

'You're a big hot shot Mr. FBI. Married, professor most likely with a couple books published or at least articles and yet you are still just the same man I adored back then.' He spoke with care and love in his voice as he watched my face blanch at what he said.

If it wasn't for the fact he has seen me this way before I would have been far more embarrassed then I was. My mouth was still opening and closing and my hands had finally stopped. 'Did you? Was it you? I- was it you that hurt me? With the blade?' 

I had finally managed to collect my words and form a complete sentence even if it was laced with fear and sorrow. I was terrified he'd say yes. I was even more petrified if he said no. If he hadn't done it then I'd have nothing to hold against him. 

There was no way I could remain upset about something that happened in college and it wouldn't make me seem like an upset child. I hadn't bothered to meet Ethan's eyes. I was honestly too afraid of what he'd see residing in my own. 

I didn't hear him move and I didn't notice how close he got until he spoke. Making me jump and look out of the two way glass. This was a bad idea. I need to get out of here. I feel like the room is shrinking. 

Ethan cupped my face and forced me to look at him. The fact that this was being recorded made me even more nervous. What if the rest of the team found out what happened between us.

I finally met his gaze. I knew my eyes probably reminded him of the first time he ever hurt me. This time had nothing to do with the kiss I walked in on years ago.

'Spencer.' As he spoke his thumb traced my jaw. 'I would never. I could never hurt you.' I laughed bitterly and flinched when his thumb met the side of my lips. 'This was a mistake. I - I need some fresh air'. I quickly rushed out, locking the door behind me. 

I blew out a breath I didn't realize I was holding within my lungs as I felt my breathing start to quicken. I made my way to the roof of the building that no one really used. I slid down the door as I made it fully outside.  

I watched as the sun began to set. The sky turned different colors until emerging me in full darkness besides for the buildings lights I closed my eyes. Why do I feel like a young adult all over again? Why am I letting him get under my skin? The worst part was that he isn't even trying to make me feel like this.

One minute I was on the rooftop the next I was in the band room of our college laying on the ground with my head resting on Ethan's jacket as he played the piano.

'I could fall asleep to the sound of you playing. You know.' I said as each key played from his fingertips. His cologne was all over me because we may or may not have been making out on the floor before I scolded him that he needed to practice. He had a big concert event coming up. 

'I could think of better things to do in here than you falling asleep.' His voice was teasing, making me blush.  It had only been a few weeks since our first actual time together and in all honesty it made me nervous just thinking about it. Ethan seemed to want to sleep together constantly.  Which is fine. I loved having sex with him but sex was never something I thought I'd experience so I'd much rather be reading or learning something new.

Just the other day we got into an argument because I turned him down. 

I was sitting in a lecture with the man that created the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The BAU for short. At the time, I didn't want to get laid. I wanted to learn more about how learning to understand a serial killer could help catch them. I was deeply intrigued and asked many questions as the lecture hall went on.

'You know you did ditch me for some cop I don't see why now would be a bad time to make up for it?

'A federal Agent is hardly a cop and if you can't remember his job at least remember his name. Jason Gideon.'

Ethan scoffed in small annoyance as he continued to play. Only this time the sound of the piano sounded like chase music. I felt like it should play in Tom and Jerry. 

'You can't seriously be upset with me about that?' I said trying to sound calm and collected in reality I was upset. I originally went to college to learn all the things needed to be someone that taught others. I had been debating on changing my career path for sometime now and I think I finally found it. 

'I think I wanna try to join the BAU. Gideon already told me with how interested I was in the lecture and with how smart I am. I'd make a great addition to the team.'

He smashed his fingers on the piano and groaned. 'Reid we already planned our future together. Do you really wanna give that up to join the FBI?' The way he looked at me was as if I had broken his heart. It's not that I had forgotten our plans after college. The only problem was that I used to be able to see that future and now I couldn't. 

Since the class with Gideon and all the research I've done. Working for the FBI just made sense. It would cover everything for my mother's doctor's and Care facility. Plus being able to keep a great roof over my head and food in my belly. I suppose to Ethan not living life on the edge was boring.

I shook my head to escape the memory.  Out of all the ones to have right now, why did that one resurface? My head fell in my hands as I combed my hair out of my face. My phone went off with a text from Y/n. 

'Hey, so we found her abandoned hideout but it looks like she hasn't been here in a bit. I don't know if you've gone to see him or not but I figured you could maybe get more info? If you're feeling up to it of course. Otherwise he made a bond with Matt. He can try again when we get back.'

I sighed. I wasn't in the mood to see him again. I thought I could separate my feelings towards him from this case and I know I'm not doing it. Perhaps I should step back from this case. I should talk to Emily. I know I'd still have to deal with Cat ever so often but otherwise she was my wife's problem now. I slipped my phone back in my pocket and closed my eyes. Everything just seemed like too much right now. 

'Seriously we are not doing this right now Ethan?' I was putting back on my clothes.  Situating my hair as well. 'You are not going to make me late. I refuse to miss seeing my mother again because you can't not want to sleep with me when we are alone.'

I walked around him as I grabbed my bag to take with me to go see my mom. It held some overnight clothes. I had missed the last time they were going to allow me to stay. All because I gave in to Ethan's advances to make him happy. I loved him and when we weren't bickering things were fabulous. After a year of it though it's exhausting. 

He caught me by my hips and pulled me to him. I swatted his hands away. He may not have wanted anything from me but a proper goodbye but I didn't want to give him the chance. I had already prepared myself mentally for the arguing that was gonna come from me turning him down. Me leaving him alone for long periods of time made me nervous.  

He'd never done anything to make me anxious about leaving him. He'd only go to bars and play and have a couple of drinks with other musicians.  I had accompanied him plenty of times. Nothing ever happened besides musicians talking about anything and everything underneath the shitty neon lights of the bar.

'Tell your mom I said hi and that I hope she's doing well. Also tell her I'm sorry I kept you away last time. I don't know what came over me. ' He cupped my face and went to kiss me but I turned my head slightly.  Again. I'm not taking any chances. I'd happily lose anyone or anything as long as I still had my mom.  He ended up kissing my cheek. 

A sigh escaped him as he let me go. 'I'll see you when you get back. Yeah?' I nodded and smiled at him as I headed toward the door.

'Wait, Reid. I'll be going out tonight to play. I'll message you when I arrive and when I leave. I know how you worry. Tell me when you make it to your mom's.  I love you. ' I smiled as I ran off to see my mom.

A groan escaped me. Why? I'm so sick of these memories coming up. I looked around the roof and let out another sigh. I really need to let what happens next go. Yet before I could stop my brain it quickly wraps me and surrounds me in the memory and as it unfolds like a movie before my very eyes. I kept my vision from blurring from the unleashed tears. 

Time with my mom had gone by well from when I got there until now.  She started having a violent episode one that if I had stayed would have ended in her calling me crash again.  I'd never tell her she'd hit me. I just wanted comfort. So I came home early. Well to a place Ethan and I were renting together. I hadn't told him I was on my way home.  So when I came home to an empty place I wasn't surprised. I quickly dropped off my things and ran to where I figured he'd be.  The bar with his friends. It was rare anyone would be there right now actually drinking; they should just be setting their instruments.

Only when I came in I found Ethan behind stage with a girl's tongue shoved down his throat. There clothes slightly askew He pushed her away when he realized I was there. 'Spencer this isn't what It looks like!' 

I just stood there frozen. I couldn't form a word, I could barely comprehend what I saw.  When he stepped towards me. I turned away and just walked away. I felt like my heart had just been stomped into the ground after being clawed at unintentionally by my mother. I was broken. 

That night I got multiple calls and texts from Ethan. I ignored them all. I ended up sleeping on a campus bench. Comfy truly.  

I never fully spoke to Ethan after that day.  Things with my mom got chaotic and I didn't have the time to focus on anything but getting my PhD and taking care of my mom. As long as I was busy I couldn't blame myself that I was too afraid to face Ethan.  He broke my heart and I didn't even give him the opportunity to even try to explain himself.

That was ages ago though so why am I still thinking about it. Why won't my brain just shut up. I need to get back Inside. Maybe the team is back by now. 

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

Having to find Spencer recently was starting to become a habit. I looked everywhere for him everywhere besides outside. I finally found him walking in from the stairway that led to the roof.

'Hey.' I gave him a small wave and what I hoped was a reassuring smile. This case was getting to him for obvious reasons. He honestly hasn't looked this distraught since after he came back from prison. 

His eyes widened slightly. 'Good you're all back already then?' I nodded. My eyes didn't want to leave him. I knew something had happened. I just didn't know what. Pushing him was never something I had done and I wasn't gonna start now. Maybe I'll just bring it up a little to see if he decides to tell me. If not then it can wait until he sorts out his mind.

'So we didn't find Lindsey.  We did find a couple of things though. Photos of you in Mexico. Photos of you even in the prison yard. Among others of max and you and us together.  Lindsey appears to be stalking us. Maybe it was something Cat asked her to do.  Or maybe Ethan was the one taking some of the photos.' I looked away and was staring at my hands as my brain started putting small pieces together. Theories really.

Spencer grabbed my hand gently and brought it up so I'd follow it with my eyes. 'I am actually debating on taking a step back from this case. I was gonna tell Emily and see what she thought.' The smile he gave me didn't reach his eyes. 

'Let's be honest it's probably for the best that I do. I know too much and I am far too involved, especially with Cat and Ethan both being a part of this. It's just more than I think I can handle. I could be wrong. Maybe I just need a day to breathe. I'll have to figure that out though.'

He placed my hand on his face and all I could do was rub my thumb across his jaw. I let out a small laugh suddenly. Which surprised him. 'I'm sorry it's not funny! I just kept thinking that If I pushed hard enough on your jawline would it cut me?' It was a terrible time for me to not be able to keep things to myself.  He needed me serious, right?

A laugh bellowed out of him and I could see some of the stress and pain he was carrying with him lift a little. I myself smiled too when he pulled me into his chest. 'Oh how I love you and your random thoughts.' He moved his hand to cup my cheek and leaned in as if he were gonna kiss me. 

One of our arrangements when we started dating was no PDA in the workplace if any, keep it always at a minimum. With what he was doing it was making me question if he was about to break that small rule. Not that I minded if he did or not though. 

He stroked my cheek and smiled at me as he pecked the tip of my nose and walked away.

I couldn't help but scrunch up my nose the way a bunny would. It tickled. A smile formed on my face as I watched him leave.

Taglist:

@sassymoon @rainsong01 @onlyhereforthefanfics @itsdars @dreatine

[shinyrockalaska]

Acceptance (or: Charlie's incident)

Summary: Charlie decides to drink Amortentia, just to see if it could affect him, so he could feel the same things everyone else around him seems to feel. Unfortunately, he didn't check who's Amortentia he was drinking...

Word count: 3.3k (my longest fic so far!)

More about the inspiration for this at the end of the post!

Enjoyy <3

--

--

He didn't plan it.

Well, yes, he thought about it a few times before, but only theoretically. He never intended to try and do something so drastic to change himself.

But he was in the sixth year and he was seventeen and everybody already had too many expectations of him.

They all acted as if they knew everything about him, who he was going to be, what he was going to do... he couldn't change it, he couldn't tell them they're wrong because he didn't know what was right. Yes, he's a kind and caring person. Yes, he sucks at school because he just can't focus or stop daydreaming. He's messy and obsessive and is definitely going to work with dragons after graduation. They all knew it, and so did he. But that's it, the rest was a blur.

He should've felt lucky. At least he always knows what he wants to do after graduation. Some of his friends, like Tulip and Ben, still had no clue, and they were all stressed out about it. But they all somehow fitted in. With the outsiders, yes, but most of the time Charlie felt like he's an outsider even to the outsiders.

Some may say it's because no one has ever seen him wearing any short clothes, not even in the summertime. He always walked around hiding in his big green coat. Or maybe because of his weird specific fears, that no one else seemed to share or to be scared of it as much as he did. Not even Ben. Or probably, because he never dated anyone and never talked about it with anyone. Charlie thought it was all of those things, that made him himself, but, weird. He never hated himself and was quite proud of being different. But in the end, it doesn't matter. Even the proudest quirky kids would choose to be normal - to fit in - if they could. So you can see why now, at seventeen, he felt that desire to fit in.

Every dinner with his family, his mum would nag him to try and find a nice girl. More for herself than for him, really. Because most wizards and witches find their partners at school. All of his friends already started to go out with each other and whatever student they liked at the moment. There were couples everywhere. EVERYWHERE. And he still couldn't figure out what's wrong with him and why he's not interested in any of that. Even the religious kids, the anxious kids, the awkward kids- all talked about their crushes non-stop. Not everyone dated, of course, but they all talked about it, and the pressure was high. All he ever heard around him was sex, kissing, dates and love. Whatever that was.

The worst part was that his friends were actually supportive.

At first, they would beg him to tell them who his secret crush is, which student he liked. They wouldn't listen whenever he told them that he doesn't have one. But they all calmed down after a while and he explained that he just doesn't care about this stuff. He just doesn't.. feel the need. And they accepted it. Accepted him. But now he was just being put in another box. They stopped talking about their crushes with him because they knew he wouldn't understand. And that was just not true. But could he argue with him when it's so clear they know him better than he knows himself?

So that was the situation he was in. That's why after a super frustrating Amortentia class, where everyone around him kept blushing and giggling at the smell of their own and everyone else's cauldrons, where his friends all sent him sad smiles and kept telling him how jealous they are that he has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, where he had to lie and tell Snape fake smells because, of course, he smelled nothing, he just couldn't take it anymore. He decided it was time for a change.

So when the class was dismissed, he stayed nearby. And when Snape left the classroom, he scooped some leftover potion into the weird-shaped glass bottle and drunk it without thinking, without hesitating, and without even knowing who's cauldron it was.

It's Amortentia, after all. The strongest love potion. If it increases those love feelings to others, then he might actually feel something, be somewhat normal.

He felt guilty for doing it and had to stop himself from running to professor Snape so he would give him the antidote right away before anything bad will happen. He knew the potion just cause obsession and trouble, but he had to know, at least for a little while, what's it like to be kind of in love.

At first, he didn't feel anything different. Lunch was normal, Care of magical creatures was normal. He felt dizzy at History of magic, but maybe it had more to do with the boring lesson than the potion itself. Charlie was disappointed but somewhat relieved when still nothing had changed by dinner time.

That is, until, Merula has entered the room.

He forgot that tiny, little, important detail that now he was madly in fake love with whoever brewed that potion. Which was, how unlucky for him, Merula. But now he didn't care about it. All he wanted to do was stay with her from now on and forever.

"Charlie, are you okay? You look a little sick," Barnaby commented about his appearance. "And a bit pale," Tonks added, but Charlie preferred to ignore his friends' concerns. "Have you ate something bad?" Rowan questioned, "is it because of potion class?" That question made him nervous, of course. "N-no! I'm just tired.. w-why would it have to do anything with p-potion class?"

"Because you smelled nothing, right? You're not upset about it, right?" They all looked at him with that same sad-apologetic smile as always. He hated it. Just because he's different doesn't mean he needs to be treated differently. "Guys, I'm fine. I don't care. It doesn't matter. Being yourself is the best thing anyone can be! Why would I want to be anything else but myself?" Maybe he was trying too hard to hide it. He sighed, "please just stop giving me those sorry faces. I don't need your pity, I-"

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Merula leaving the room. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said and hurried up after her.

He couldn't pick up the nerves to talk to her so he just followed her around to the Slytherin house in the dungeons. Then, he had to go to sleep, but he couldn't stop staring at the ceiling, smiling, and dreaming about Merula.

"What's up with him?" Ben asked as he entered their dorm. Jae shrugged, "I think he's been drugged." And when Ben's face showed panic he laughed, "just kidding, he's probably thinking about dragons."

--

Normally, Charlie would be tired after sleeping less than six hours, but he had an amazing dream about him and Merula on a date with candles and chocolate and all he wanted was to feel her hand in his own.

"Are you alright, Charlie..? You still look pretty sick," his friends told him at breakfast. "I'm more than fine, I've never felt better," he said with this wide fuzzy exaggerated smile and the fake spark in his eyes. He barely touched his food, he just kept staring at Merula. And his friends noticed.

"Why are you looking at the Slytherin table? Who are you starting at? Awwww did you finally got a crush?" Normally he'd be embarrassed by this question, which always made him feel unease. But this time, he wanted to be with Merula so badly, that he welcomed any help. "It's Merula, can you maybe get her attention? I really want to kiss her! And maybe.. more? I already thought about names for our kids! Human names even! We'll have a perfect life near the dragon reserve!" He babbled.

"What?!?! You can't be serious! That's- that's just- no!!" They were shocked and a bit disgusted. "It doesn't make sense, Charlie.. you hate Merula!" Talbott said, making Charlie angry, "well, maybe you don't know everything about me!" He shouted, and many students' heads turned around to look at him. "Ever thought about it? That maybe I am more than the way you see me? More than the things you see in me?!" He kept shouting, making his friends feel embarrassed, as they lowered their heads. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Charlie frowned. "Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to ask out Merula!" He shouted this sentence too, causing Merula to look at him, disgusted, and run out of the great hall immediately. He shot one last angry look at his friends, before storming out of the room, after Merula.

"As you all know I'm an expert in love and-" Andre started to say quickly but got cut off by Diego. "I think we can all agree I'm the love expert."

"True," Jacob's sibling said, "you promised to get me dates at the third year and you still haven't! Diego's been more helpful than you.."

Andre was irritated, "That.. that doesn't matter!! Can't you see that Charlie is-"

"Poisoned!" Rowan cut him off, "he's drugged on Amortentia!"

"No way! It's too hard to- oh no! He probably drunk it yesterday after class!" Penny was frightened.

"Dang it, Charlie! What do we do now??"

"We'll have to tell a professor. Even if he'll hate us. We have to do it before he does something stupid like actually making a move on Merula!" Rowan stated, horrified.

--

"Merula wait! Please, let's talk!" Charlie shouted, running behind her, and she surprisingly stopped. He caught her a few halls past the great hall, on the way to the dungeons. she almost got away from him. He took her hand and started talking, blushing, stumbling on his words. "I can't imagine my life without you! We will be so perfect together, don't you think? Let's run away and start a family together! Do you like dragons? I was thinking we could live next to the Romanian dragon sanctuary and have at least two kids. Do you like the names Violet and Jade? I think they're perfect! I picked them because it's like your eyes and the Slytherin colour. And also not dragon names! Oh, I feel so safe and happy around you. Can you tell me about yourself and your family and life and beliefs and every little detail possible?" He was now hugging her, clutching to her as close as he can.

"This is unsettling in so many ways, Charlie. Stop it now. I don't know what sick game you're playing but cut it now before I'll have to hex you, or call someo-"

"Game? No, no! This is love, baby! Don't you see it?" Charlie felt heartful, in a way he never felt before. And he liked it, being fearless. Feeling warm and being somehow full of love. "Did someone dared you to do it? Have you been drinking elixir to induce euphoria? Oh no, don't tell me you're-"

"Merula! I'm so sorry for Charlie's behavior." McGonagall called out from the end of the hall, followed by Charlie's friends. "What are you doing here?! Go away! I don't need you! I have my Merula! Don't ruin this for me! I deserve to have love too!" Charlie screamed and clung to Merula even more than before.

"Charles Weasley come with me right now!" McGonagall was furious. No student has ever acted like that.

"No! I'm staying here with the love of my life!" He tried to kiss Merula's hand who just pulled it out of his reach immediately, disgusted and uncomfortable. "Don't talk to me ever again, freak." She said and walked away.

"No! Don't leave me! We can make it work!" Charlie screamed as he hurried up after Merula, who now went from fast walking to running. McGonagall grabbed Charlie's arm and stopped him. "you're coming with me now, I cannot believe you!" she said loudly, disappointed.

"No!!! You can't stop me from being happy and in love! This is me, just go away! I have to get Merula back!" He was hysterical, tears running down his face. He cried so much his head started to ache, but he didn't care. he had to follow Merula. Had to be with her. He'd rather die, give up on dragons even, than not spend every single minute of his life now with Merula.

But McGonagall pulled him away from any hope to fulfill his dreams, all the way to her office. He kept cursing his friends, who looked very ashamed and worried, as he got dragged away from them. None of them laughed at the scene he caused.

"Drink this. NOW." McGonagall ordered, but Charlie refused. "I will not let you drug me and prevent me to have this! Let! Me! Go!" He screamed, caughting McGonagall off guard. But it wasn't the first time something like that happened, it just never got out of hand to be like... Charlie's case.

"Stupify." McGonagall cast the spell on Charlie, with a heavy heart. She hates using magic on students. Still, she poured the love-potion antidote liquid down his mouth and watched as he slowly got back his consciousness. She looked at him, all confused as he tried to remember what happened.

"Who did this to you? Was it Merula? She didn't look quite satisfied with your obsession but that doesn't mean it's not her. So tell me, who drugged you with love potion?" McGonagall asked him in both compassion and anger.

"What? Oh you mean the Amortentia.." he lowered his head, "it was.. me?"

"What?! This is beyond belief, Charlie! Why would you do that to yourself? You know it's a dangerous potion! You know the consequences! I expected better than yo-"

"That's exactly the problem!" He cut her off, rudely, "Everyone always expecting all sorts of things from me! I can't be everyone's version of me! I don't want to! I barely even want to be me! You wouldn't understand but I just had to fit in!!"

Charlie never in his life yelled like that at anyone or anything, especially not a professor. But he didn't care anymore. He was sick of everything. McGonagall was surprised again, it was very unlike him to behave that way.

"I- Charlie, listen." He looked at her a bit worried and ashamed. "You don't need to be fixed. You know that using potions and magic to change yourself is bad, especially if it's illegal.." she gave him an alerting look. "I can't tell you how to feel or who to be, but I want you to know that every person is different than the others and there is absolutely not a thing that is wrong with being yourself. Being different is good-"

"As someone who's been different his entire life, I can assure you it's not. Everyone always says it's wonderful to be extraordinary and different and special and whatever, but even the proudest weirdest kids would choose to be like everyone else and fit in if they could.." Charlie said, focusing on the wall rather than McGonagall's eyes, playing with the zipper of his coat.

"Maybe you need to have more pride, Charlie. You're a very unique person, let those special things about you define you by your choice, instead of being ashamed of them. I encourage you to find that strength to let go of the shame and fear in you and to just.. be yourself."

"Pride is stupid," Charlie murmured quietly, "it's something I had no control over. it's not a drawing I made that I put a lot of effort and time into it, so I'm proud of it. No. It's something I couldn't even choose, something I can't change. There's no pride in having no control."

"Well, could you have chosen to be a Gryffindor?"

"Uh, no, but.." Charlie went quiet, thinking.

"I know, you wanted to be in Gryffindor, but if you happened to be in Hufflepuff, wouldn't you still have some house pride in you?" McGonagall asked him.

"I guess.." Charlie shrugged, still upset.

"We cherish pride in us, based on what we learn from our surroundings as we grow up. But society is not always right. In fact, most of the time it's even wrong. And so, you need to be your own society, sometimes. Be the change you want to see in the world, and even if you're different than the way it seems society tells you to be, it doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. You need to accept yourself just like you would've accepted any of your friends, and just like you would want the world to accept you. Even if you turn out to be completely different than the person you thought you are. understand?"

Charlie nodded. He felt, not for the first time, like McGonagall can read minds. She answered all of his worries and questions and feelings, with her calming words.

McGonagall let him off of his classes for the rest of the day and he decided to write a letter to his family, explaining how he feels. He asked them to be kind and understanding, as he has no control or any choice over his feelings. He wrote down everything that bugged him in the past years. The letter was far too long, and contained seven full written pages. In the end, Charlie decided he won't send it yet. he felt better, but still wasn't ready to face his family's reaction to his incident and different behavior. He felt as if it might disappoint them. it was ridiculous, he knew, they would love him no matter what. Even so, seeing those words, his words, written down in those pages, in his own handwriting, made him smile. It was his choice, to write them, to use them. And he won't let anyone tell him it's wrong.

At dinner, he sat with his friends as usual, worried about what his friends might say. He didn't want them to be worried about him, but he knew they were, after what he did...

"Hey guys, thanks for, uh.. you know... watching out for me.." he said, nervously.

"Sure thing! How are you feeling, Charlie? Better? You're not mad at us for calling McGonagall, right..?" His friends were just as worried as him.

"I'm feeling much better, relieved. I don't know what I would've done if you didn't call McGonagall.. you really saved me.."

He could see Merula sitting next to Ismelda, and glaring at him, furiously.

"You could've chosen a better person to fake fall in love with," Andre joked.

"Yeah, even in this I didn't have a choice or any luck," Charlie laughed, a bit uncomfortable as this subject was still upsetting sometimes.

"How much trouble did you get to from that talk with McGonagall? We haven't seen you all day, so we figured you've got punished real hard.." Ben said, carefully.

"Well, I need to write an apology letter for Merula.. but I got off easy."

"Your mother's not going to like it.." he heard one of them saying, but even that part was okay.

"McGonagall promised not to tell my parents if I'll agree to meet her once a week and talk to her about what's bothering me, instead of bottle it inside me... she wants me to have more pride, and she trust me to choose the right time for me to tell my parents about this incident."

His friends smiled at him, and he smiled at them back.

He tried not to feel nauseous, remembering how foolishly he acted that day, convinced he has to fit in. He still sometimes thought it would be better for him to be like the rest. But he can't. So when he felt that way, he reminded himself of McGonagall's words and named all the good things in his life, and the things he does have control over.

Charlie knew from the moment he drunk the Amortentia, that life might not be easy for him, always having to be the odd one out.

But it was his own life, and he should be proud of what he has.

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Wow! Finally! I had this idea for like a year and I've been trying to write it ever since, so this definitely took time...

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I really like how it turned out, I hope you'll like it too. This is how I see Charlie.

The fic was inspired by another beautiful fanfic (here's a link) where Charlie almost drinks the potion but ends up not doing it.

Even though it's not canon, to me, Charlie is the closest thing we have to an aromantic and asexual representation, and it's just so, so important to have that. It took me years to feel comfortable with me being like this, I'm still working on it, and I think a big part of it is because we don't see anything about it in the media or anywhere else really.

Self-acceptance is harder when it comes to aros and aces because it's just so different than other romantic/sexual orientations, it's hard to define lack of attraction, but it doesn't mean it's bad!

Everyone is valid, and I know knowing this doesn't make it immediately better, but it helps to remember it. I don't want people to be afraid of who they are, to feel like they need to be fixed, to have to hide away.

So now, it's the end of pride month but you and I- we're still here! And we can still shine bright and be proud of ourselves for coming so far! The truth is always right, don't be afraid of it. 💜💚