#Time-saving chess classes

[chesstrainer24]

Discover 5 reasons why learning chess online is ideal for busy minds. Flexible, engaging, and skill-boosting, it fits your schedule perfectly.

Do Visit: https://chesstrainer.com/5-reasons-why-learning-chess-online-is-perfect-for-busy-minds/

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒.

💞 — in which professor divus crewel is down bad for his spouse.

💞 — divus crewel x reader

💞 — warnings: none really, just fluff and ace and deuce being ace and deuce.

💞 — around 700 words!! not very long, but yk it came to me when i should have been writing my essay (due tomorrow) since that card came out. ive been hella offline, my cousin had a malwi (yemeni bridal party) yesterday, and the wedding is tomorrow, and my other cousin is in the process of having engagement parties all throughout july--hope you enjoy!

“No way you get bitches,” 

“What was that, Trappola?” Crewel shot a glare at his student who was staring at the picture on his desk.

The picture was of him and his spouse, looking very happy. He looked relaxed in the picture, his arm draped around you while you held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. The best part was that you were dressed in one of his designs, looking ever so elegant in the fur shawl over your shoulders.

Ace stiffened up and was sent a concerned glance from Deuce, “Uhm, nothing… sir,” he quickly corrected himself.

He could not help it—all the time he spent in Professor Crewel’s class was filled with a certain strictness that he did not think anyone would find appealing. The redhead glanced at the picture again, before back at his professor.

Deuce was sweating, praying to whatever was in the sky that he would not get caught up in whatever trouble Ace would be in. He almost wanted to shake some sense in his dormmate.

Crewel drew the silence out, just for the sake of intimidating his students a little longer before his brows softened. He would not do anything further wreck his mood, not when the love of his life would come over and share lunch with him. He sighed, raising a red gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’ll let it slide this once, pup.”

The cyan-eyed student visibly slumped in relief.

He handed each of them their corrected worksheets. They both had detailed notes written in the margins on what they could do to improve. He pointed out how Ace could use his skills in Magic Analysis and apply them to Alchemy, and gave Deuce examples that could make more sense to him. He was a strict professor, but that did not mean he was a bad professor. He knew his rowdier dogs could improve—he expected them to. He laid out the resources, they just had to use them.

“Thank you, professor!” exclaimed Deuce, bowing his head in respect as he held the page to his chest. Deep down, he appreciated his professor's willingness to correct his work so thoroughly.

Ace nodded, as if sharing the thanks with Deuce, before following his classmate out.

Things stayed quiet before you burst through the doors, carrying lunch bags with you, wearing that smile he loved so much. Your clothes were a bit of a mess, but when were they not? You were always running about and doing something.

Crewel stood from his seat, a softer grin on his face as he stepped forward, his arms reaching out to adjust your outfit. Gentle hands tugged at the collar and fixed your mixed-up buttons, “Now, I wonder what circus you just returned from,”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, “Just the kitchen, nothing too crazy, Divus. I made raisin butter and homemade bread,” you told him, excitedly.

His thumb brushed over some flour left on your cheek, “I can see that much,” he muttered before he moved to your side and slid his hand down to the small of your back, “Come sit,” he said, guiding you to the seat across from his desk.

“You saved me from another lunch spent playing chess with Mozus,”

“Oh, come on. You act like spending time with him is a chore,” you replied, reaching into the bags to set the food on the desk for you guys to share.

He carefully moved his things out of the way, before taking his seat as elegantly as ever, “It’s only a chore when he spends thirty minutes deciding on his next move.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “One day you’ll be just as old and spending thirty minutes buttoning up your vest. When that happens, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

He let out a little laugh at that. Your joke just affirmed what he always knew, you would be with him forever, even when white became the natural color of his hair, even once his students were visiting him as adults with their own lives, and thanking him for his harshness. He let out a breath of contentment, before carefully cutting the bread you made for him, “How was work, my love?”

[julietsbody]

romeo meets juliet — luke castellan x reader : chess can be played in many different situations. 

tags : 18+!! loser!luke (hes actually such a loser im sorry), college setting, brothers best friend!luke, mutual pining, religious imagery(?), classic literature references, body worship, smut, luke is pathetically in love 

a/n : save me nerdy boy with sad eyes save me

luke didn’t acknowledge your existence at first, he stuck to himself, from his classes, to his dorm, maybe even the lunchroom if his roomate, your brother, convinced him to come rather than just making all of his meals in the dorm. luke and your brother were complete opposites, luke was studying literature, mostly classic,  he didn’t speak to many people unless forced to— and your brother was studying engineering, which also basically required him to join a frat, and he spoke to nearly everyone with cockiness prominent in his tone. 

one thing they did have in common, though, was chess. 

now, your brother could never tell anyone, especially not his frat brothers, that he played chess, let alone was in the university’s chess club— but he felt pity for luke, most of the time luke played by himself, which was somehow equally as frustrating as having to play against someone else. 

the only people that knew about your brother playing chess was luke, the chess club, and you. 

luke remembers the first time you came trotting in to the dorm, complaining to your brother about some argument you had with your parents about how your friends are distracting you from your studies. your brother only rolls his eyes, barely listening to your non - stop whining about how it’s ridiculous, “i mean— you’re the one in a frat! why aren’t they mad at you?” 

“because i actually do my work,” he mumbles, and luke breathes out in a silent laugh, moving a piece on his chess board. 

“you’re in engineering, you don’t even have any actual work,” you frown, and albeit the fact that you’re wrong, you’re still confident in what you said. 

“are you stu— whatever,” your brother waves you off, deciding to change the subject when he motions to luke, the boy in a nirvana t-shirt, currently moving to a different side of the chess board as he plays against himself, “this is luke, my roommate, obviously.” 

luke immediately freezes, fingers curling around the chess piece he was adjusting to move— his eyes are wide, and they’re moving to look at you, only to immediately flicker to some other part of the room when they meet your expectant gaze. since he won’t speak first, you pick up the slack, “hey, luke.” 

your brother notices how luke looks like a scared, lost puppy even by the slightest implication of having to speak to a woman, let alone be perceived by one, so he moves to whisper in your ear, “he’s like, deathly afraid of women, i’ve never seen him speak to one, ever.” 

and you from that you don’t expect a response from luke, until he mumbles a short, “hi.” 

that’s when your head tilts, noticing the way his curls fall over his brows messily, like he doesn’t pay attention to styling it, or maybe it’s on purpose, maybe he pays too much attention to styling it. the way he wore something so simple, yet so telling about himself, the way he awkwardly places the chess piece back on the board on the spot he wanted to. he assumes the conversation is over, so he moves to the opposite side of the board to make a move against his own. 

“are you in the chess club?” you take a step closer, and he perks up, hand ghosting over the piece once more. 

luke doesn’t say anything, his lips twitch around words that don’t come out. your brother speaks in his place, “he’s the president, he’s a fucking grandmaster.”

luke just awkwardly laughs, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes moving from the board to you, then to your brother, “i’m not like— actually the president,” another awkward, short chuckle, “i just— like.. um.. play a lot, i guess.” 

“you are the president, dude,” your brother corrects, being insufferable as he always is. 

but luke puts up with it, then you ask another question, “what do you major in?” 

“literature,” luke responds for himself this time, finally able to move his hand to make a proper move on the chess board, before mumbling, “mostly classic.” 

“you’re kidding, i am too, how have i not seen you before?” 

luke’s eyes finally meet yours, now, pausing on your eyes, then resuming down the shape of your face, memorizing each feature, the curve of your lashes, the shape of your lips— he swallows thickly. 

“i just— sit in the back.. and go to my dorm— as soon as class ends,” there’s that awkward, short chuckle again. 

“have you finished the paper?” 

luke nods, and that’s when your brother finally gets a bright idea. 

“you should help her, luke, with the work.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

that’s how it all started, with a simple suggestion, that’s when you came to the dorm more often, when he began to notice that you were actually in his classes, and when you realized he had an awful staring problem. he thought he was slick with it too, letting his eyes move around the room for a mere.. twenty seconds before they finally snap to you, and from there, they stay, until you finally return the gaze and he’s immediately nervously looking away. 

he hardly speaks to you, unless your brother urges him to, and he’s always avoiding looking at you when he speaks, stumbling over words, pausing in sentences to catch his losing breath. he was a complete and utter loser, terrible when it came to socializing, even worse when it’s with girls. with you, it somehow seemed to worsen. 

“am i the first girl you’ve ever talked to?” you ask once, far too blunt for your own liking, you didn’t mean to really say it, it kind of just came out when seeing how much his leg bounced under the table with nervousness, nearly sweating himself to death under your gaze. 

sweat beads down his temple when his eyes flutter up to meet yours, moving from the romeo and juliet book in his hands. isn’t it so ironic that he had just gotten done reading the scene in which romeo says, “did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! for i ne'er saw true beauty till this night,” when seeing juliet for the first time? truly, it isn’t the first time he saw you, but it’s night, and you are beautiful. truly, utterly, “beautiful.” 

“what?” 

oh, oh my god. saliva bubbles in his mouth, sour saliva, and he gulps it down, hoping it would somehow be a form of poison that would wake him from this nightmare. does he say what he meant? that he was thinking out loud? that he thinks you’re beautiful? or should he deny it? deny. he bursts into awkward laughs, “what— what do you mean— i.. i didn’t even say anything.. ha, haha.” 

“why are you acting like that?” your brows furrow. 

“like what?” 

“like you’re hiding something.” 

his breathing only shakes anymore, “i’m not hiding anything.. that’s like— a wild accusation.” 

“it’s not an accusation, i’m just saying,” you frown at him. 

his adam’s apple bobs with another swallow, “okay but like—“ 

“why are you harassing him?” your brother sighs, tired how much you press luke. 

“i’m not— whatever, i was asking you— am i the first girl you’ve ever spoken to?” 

your brother barks out a laugh, and luke’s eyes fall back down to the book in his hands. did not having proper conversations with women make him any less? romeo grabbed juliet’s hand once, and the first words he uttered to her was a promise to redeem himself if his hand was too unworthy to be touching her holy one. parallels sear in his mind, and he just mumbles a, “not really.” 

he has spoken to women before, sure, small greetings, maybe even the slightest indulgence of conversation— but luke keeps to himself, and to be honest, he was a man used to running from women, as he did from his mother. he grew up being afraid of women, well, afraid isn’t the proper word, intimidated is better, and he just decided to avoid them as much as possible. 

though, no matter how much he tries to avoid you, you’re always there, in his sight, in his mind. maybe it’s a disgrace, like romeo holding juliet’s hand, for him to even be thinking of you, looking at you— you were a goddess that offered a man on his knees the slightest bit of your grace, and now he was hooked. 

it was pathetic, really, how he anticipated every time he suspected you would be over, how his eyes always found their way to you in class, how he made sure to purposefully walk past you in the lunchroom on the days he went, which was oddly more now. 

a man who is still a virgin to adore a girl far too good for him, he is hopeless. 

“it’s okay if i am,” you adjust, okay, there might be a little hope, “anyway, how do you like romeo and juliet?” 

“it’s pretty nice—“ he notices the way your face perks up in shock, “kind of, i don’t know.” 

“i think it’s a bore, i’m sure the movie is much better.” 

“we should watch the movie— um.. together, sometime.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

if luke was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t entirely mean to say it, and as soon as you left the dorm, he nearly doubled over with shock at his own words, and even more shock at the fact that you agreed. not only did you agree, you actually came, and it was just you and him. your brother was off at some frat party, again, and he had left luke completely alone with you, even when luke begged him not to. 

“you’re kidding, dude, i’m like— horrified of her,” luke frowns at your brother. 

“you need exposure therapy, or some shit, call me your therapist.” 

“you’re a shit therapist,” luke sighs, rubbing his temples. 

“and you need to grow some balls.” 

so, your brother left him, and now luke’s awkwardly standing with you at his door - step, staring at him expectantly, his lips twitch around so many possible words, possible sentences, and all that comes out is, “hey.” 

he’s been staring for you for at least a minute, and all he can say is hey. your lips curve to an amused smile, “hi, luke.” 

“um— you can come in, if you.. want, ‘course.” he moves out the way to let you in, watching you step past him so he can close the door. 

“i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to,” you remark as if it’s the obvious, mostly because it is. 

when romeo stood underneath juliet’s balcony, he praised how captivating she was, considers her as glorious as an angel, a winged messenger above his head. in his own words : 

“one who makes mortals fall onto their backs to gaze up in awe as the angel strides across the clouds and sails through the air.”

consider luke on his back now, staring up at the stars in your eyes, the halo that shines above your head, the wings that flap with every stride you make— a goddess, an angel, venus incarnate, right before his eyes, staring at him like he had something deeply wrong with him. wait. he blinks a few times, and his eyes refocus onto your confused face. 

“are you okay, luke?” 

he quickly clears his throat, “yeah, yeah— duh, ‘course i am, uh.. we should,” he moves to the table in which his laptop was on, “watch the movie, yeah? ‘ts on my.. laptop, if you don’t mind.” 

“i don’t, at all,” you move to sit next to him on the couch in front of the table, watching the veins in his hands pulse, palms sweaty when he moves to open his laptop, shifting a few tabs and pressing a few keys until he mumbles a small okay and presses the space button. 

moaning. that’s all you hear, the sound of skin slapping, ah ah— oh fuck mmph you’re so b— luke slams the laptop shut. 

dear god, save him now. 

he can’t even bring himself to look at you, the sweat on his palms only worsens and spreads onto the top of the laptop as he smoothes his hands across it, replaying the scene a million times in his mind. to his surprise, you giggle, “you watch porn?” 

he’s quick to awkwardly scoff out a short laugh, “yeah— i mean, everyone does.. but like.. i don’t watch it— that much.” 

your finger moves to run along the vein on his arm, feeling him shudder under your touch, yet he doesn’t want you to stop, even the slightest touch makes his dick twitch in his pants, “are you a virgin, luke?” 

he inhales sharply, “y-yeah..” 

“do you want to have sex?” you lean the tiniest bit closer. 

he pauses, “yes.. of course—“ 

“with me?” 

“yes.” he responds quick, too fucking quick, it must’ve been at most a second after you said it for him to respond. the truth stings his tongue, to finally be able to say it out loud, how much he had fantasized about you in the late of night, even sneaking off to the bathrooms so his hand can dip underneath his waistband when he thinks about the times you’ve worn a tight shirt that frames your tits far too well. 

but it was wrong, wasn’t it? you were a goddess, on a pedestal, and he was merely just a man, staring up at your statue in the hopes that you would notice him one day. forbidden, possibly, but all those thoughts leave his mind when his eyes move from the finger tracing up his bicep to your neck, then your lips, then your eyes. 

“please tell me you’ve kissed before.” 

“yeah.. yeah— i have,” a playground kiss counts, right?

it seems to when your lips fall against his own, the kiss was so gentle, until he dared to kiss you back, then it got hungry, mostly on his end. he kissed you like a starving man, nearly devouring you but at the same time, being horrified to. your tongue finds it’s way into his mouth, and to your surprise, he whimpers against your lips.

his hands are hesitant, unsure of where to go, does he touch your arm? your shoulder? your waist? he doesn’t want to push anything, so the waist seems far too much, his hands awkwardly place themselves on your arm, in a very weird position. 

“have you touched a girl before?” 

his lips are flushed from the kiss, eyes glazing over the position of his hands, and he quickly moves them off, “sorry— well, i just.. um.. didn’t want to push anything.” 

“you can,” you reassure, but his hands still hesitate, the flesh of a goddess, to be touched by someone so inexperienced. was he really worth it? any of it? to even be in your presence was a blessing, and it was still taking him forever to register the fact that you had actually kissed him, prayers passed through your lips into his. 

“are you sure?” 

“‘course i am.” 

it still took luke some getting used to, having you straddle his lap, you knew so much, it felt like more than just an honor to have you so close to him. his eyes flicked from your own to your lips, then to your tits, the low v - cut showing off your cleavage perfectly. and he looked like a complete deer in headlights, staring at the flesh pushed together between the window of clothing. you smile at his lack of self control, feeling the way his dick throbs underneath his pants, right against your ass, “you can touch them.” 

“wha— nono, ‘ts okay— i just..” he trails off, sweaty palms moving past you to slide across his knees. 

“really, luke, you can— why don’t i just..” you move to take off your shirt, his eyes immediately catching on to the lace of your bra, the way your tits are practically spilling out of it, all until you take off your bra as well and they immediately fall out. 

his hand twitches around nothing, desperately wondering what it must feel like to have your flesh underneath his palm, fingers curling around the plush of it. it seems you must’ve heard his prayers when you move to take his hands, pulling them back to press against your tits. 

soft, that’s his first thought, sweat sticks to your skin when his fingers curve around the flesh, gripping it ever so gently. praises spill from his lips almost immediately, thoughts he had since the day he saw you, finally being spoken, “y’re beautiful— fuck, i’ve always.. always wanted to— do this..” 

you smile so sweet at him, nectar nearly drips off your teeth, “can i ride you, luke?” 

his eyes finally meet yours, brows furrowing for a mere second, “huh— oh, oh.. yeah, ‘course you can.” 

you didn’t expect him to have a big, no matter how cruel that sounds, you had heard rumors of nerds with big dicks, but sought to never believe it until you saw it, and good fucking lord you saw it. as soon as his dick springs out from the pants and boxers you were tugging down, luke’s hands mindlessly moved to your waist, your eyes widen. 

no fucking way. he has to be.. six? seven inches, at least. slightly girthy too, he wasn’t all just length, and precum was beading from his red tip. he immediately inhales sharply when your fingers graze his dick, nervous under your gaze, “is it too small— i.. i’m sorry—“ 

“too small?” you scoff playfully at his scared expression, worried of what you think, “this might be the biggest dick i’ve ever seen, luke.” 

“that’s— a good thing.. right?” 

“obviously, god, it better fit,” this is the first time you’ve ever been concerned about whether or not a dick will fit, luke stiffens when you spit on your palm, pressing it to his dick and wettening it as you jerk him off, his response is immediate, carefully gripping at your skin and pressing his lips together to muffle his whimpers. 

luke had jerked of many, many times, but it never felt as good as this. 

“fuck—“ he grunts out, already far too close from just a simple hand movements. 

you immediately stop, picking up on his nearing orgasm from the way his hips kept bucking up into your hands, pathetic whines slipping past his lips, but it was just so cute. the cutest thing, though, was his face when he got the first look at your vagina, he looked like a man staring at a piece of art he had admired. and this was art, sex was, you were, everything about you, it felt so sacred. 

his lashes flutter when you take his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, allowing him to feel the wetness that was nearly pouring from you. like nectar from a fountain, it coated his fingertips when he touched you, his eyes focused onto your face, making sure that he was doing it right. he notices the way you gasp when his fingertips brush against your clit, so he presses against it again, and again. 

he follows everything he has seen in pornos, spreading your folds, fingers grazing past your entrance, rubbing your clit— but he’s lost when you wave him off before he can finger you to prep you for his dick, wasn’t that something people did? “but don’t you…” 

“it’ll fit,” you mumble back, relying on how wet you are to make it easier. 

he watches the way your jaw falls when you move to press his tip against your entrance, allowing the tip to push into you and it’s already too big. his eyes widen at the feeling of your walls clenching around his tip, unable to hold back the noises that slip from his own lips. 

“you’re like— the.. the girl of my dr— fuck— dreams,” luke hushed out between his mess of moans and grunts, he wondered if romeo ever felt this way when he kissed juliet for the first time, the sort of electric rush that riddled his bones, it felt unreal. you were a dream incarnate, one luke was always haunted with, the woman that would show up when his eyes would close at night, and now you were on his lap, sinking down on his dick. 

“am i? really?” you question, inhaling sharply when you finally reach the base of his cock. for some odd reason, you didn’t believe you were all he was putting you up to be, and that made him sick— how could you think of yourself as any less? you were perfect, a vision, to be fair, luke would adore you even if you were an enemy, just like romeo and juliet. 

he would stand at your balcony, stare at you from across the ballroom, kiss your knuckles, kiss you— he would do it all. he might even drink poison just to spend eternity with you. 

“yes, yes— are you.. kidding? mmph.. fuck— you’re like.. a fuckin’ goddess,” it comes out like a prayer, as if he was on his knees at your altar, kissing your legs, and whispering worshipping words. 

to nobody’s surprise, luke doesn’t last long at all when you’re bouncing on his cock, no matter how much he tried to distract himself from his throbbing cock by pawing at your tits, or moving to kiss you, his orgasm was just too close. “‘m g’na.. please.. g’na cum.. mmphh.. fuck!” 

when he does cum, you had pulled off him, jerking him off, and he’s practically writhing, a whimpering and damn near crying mess. and once he’s helped you to your orgasm as well, you’re falling into his arms, finding a safe - haven in how he smells like old books, mint, and cheap cologne. 

two star crossed lovers, one capulet, one montague. 

“these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder. which, as they kiss, consume.” — romeo and juliet, act two, scene six.

[darkmatilda]

𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which spencer can’t believe he ended up in an art class, you can’t believe you ended up in an art class, and neither of you can believe you both ended up in the same art class

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, banter at its finest <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.2k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request marathon masterlist

Spencer never considered himself particularly talented in the field of art.

His biggest problem was that, while creating, he had trouble switching off and simply focusing on what he wanted to express. When he painted, images of Van Gogh, Picasso, Dalí crossed through his mind—their characteristics and information about the movements they represented—and he would immediately start wondering whether what he was creating truly fit into expressionism, or maybe leaned more toward fauvism. No one should be surprised that he did much better with technical drawing.

He once talked about it with JJ—the topic came up when Henry talked them all into a group drawing session. What he said then somehow stuck in his friend’s mind—enough that for his birthday, she decided to give him…a pass for creative art classes.

He kept postponing going until the very last moment. However, the deadline for using the pass was approaching, and he felt a little guilty about potentially wasting the gift from JJ. So, one Saturday, he physically forced himself to go, even though there were dozens of other things he would have preferred to do in the meantime. In fact, on that particular day, he even had more desire to do laundry than to play at being an artist, but he knew that if he didn’t go then, he wouldn’t get around to it anytime soon—and the pass would expire.

So, he found himself in the painting studio, the entrance of which he could spot even before stepping inside thanks to the glass doors—beige walls, student easels arranged in a circle, a crocheted orange rug on the floor, and plenty of flowers and other props seemingly designed to spark their imagination. Taking in the room with his eyes, Spencer opened the door, allowing a woman who had arrived around the same time to pass in front of him.

Without a thank you, she crossed the threshold confidently, brushing past him—but before she fully entered, Reid widened his eyes…recognizing her.

"What are you doing here?"

His, well... acquaintance from work (the one he'd once ended up in bed with, went on an undercover mission with, and even saved a cat together, but  couldn't spend more than five minutes with each other without at least once threatening each other's throats, so overall, they didn’t get along that well) reacted similarly, though with a more outraged expression on her face.

"What are you doing here?" she put her hands on her hips.

Unconsciously, he glanced at her outfit. The dress code for the class was to wear something you wouldn’t mind getting dirty, so she had veered a bit away from her usual stylish outfits, wearing something much simpler. But that wasn’t why he didn’t recognize her—her attractiveness was unmistakable, no matter what she was wearing, she still looked just as good. It was simply in her.

She sounded outraged, but he didn’t feel guilty, because he felt the same way. The purpose of these classes was relaxation, clearing the mind, releasing stress...which was impossible when they were both within a mile of each other.

"I asked first," he stated.

She sighed in irritation, then quickly forced a wide smile onto her face. It looked terrifying, just so you know.

"I'm spending my free Saturday afternoon," she explained stiffly. "And you, Doctor Genius? Did you get lost on the way to a chess tournament?"

Reid snorted.

"If I had the chance to be at a chess tournament right now, trust me, I wouldn’t be here..."

"You two for the painting class?" A woman who must have been the instructor caught their attention.

She kept her hands clasped in a basket-like gesture, quite friendly, though her expression showed concern. Some random duo had just started arguing at the entrance to her studio. Who knows, they might be some vandals…

"That's right," his acquaintance said, completely changing her tone when she wasn’t talking to him. As if she were making an effort to emphasize the difference. He already felt like rolling his eyes—and they had met, what, maybe... eighty seconds ago?

"Oh, in that case, welcome to the creative art class. My name is Carla, and I’ll be leading it. It’s best if you just take a seat, and I’ll explain more about what we’ll be doing shortly..."

They arrived as two of the last people, so the only available seats...were right next to each other. Their exasperated sighs synchronized almost perfectly, and they exchanged glances that weren’t any more enthusiastic. Maybe later they could switch seats with someone, or maybe they just wouldn’t talk...

He spoke to her a minute after they sat down on adjacent stools.

"Are you here out of a passion for painting, or out of a passion for making my life miserable with your presence?"

She slowly turned her head in his direction.

"You might not be aware of it yet, but my presence is the brightest point of your miserable life."

"Oh, you're right. Bright from radioactive radiation—"

"Excuse me, could you please not talk to me for now?" she said intentionally louder, drawing the attention of everyone present, including Carla, who had just been explaining some introductory topics and what they would be doing. With feigned concern, she continued, "I'm trying to focus to understand the basics."

Spencer pressed his lips together, feeling the weight of so many unfriendly eyes on him.

"We know each other from work," he added, sliding his finger between them.

He didn’t want to be seen as some creep, harassing a random woman!

"This is the first time I see this man in my life," she lied without hesitation.

A bit of sarcasm crept into her voice, confusing everyone around them. Carla ran her fingers through her platinum, short hair and cleared her throat before continuing from where she had been interrupted.

They were kind of being jerks—both of them. The bickering and snide remarks were fine when they stayed between the two of them, not when they involved over a dozen other people. Strangely enough, she seemed to come to the same conclusion—when he caught her gaze again, there was something in it that looked suspiciously like a proposal for a ceasefire. He gave a barely noticeable nod in return.

Carla kept talking for a few more minutes before suggesting they start with a few simple exercises. As she launched into the basics of color theory, Spencer couldn’t help but feel like he’d regressed all the way back to a crib.

“I get explaining the fundamentals, but this is…” he muttered under his breath.

He didn’t expect anyone to hear him.

But of course—she did.

"You don’t get to talk," she replied, just as quietly. "You’d probably say the same thing during a lecture on quantum physics."

"If that lecture started with explaining what an atom is, then yes, I absolutely would—"

“And now that you’re familiar with the basics,” Carla said, shooting Spencer a meaningful look that clearly suggested he should, kindly, shut up. He did.

“I want you to try a little exercise. Mostly for fun—because that’s what we’re here for, right? You’ll be drawing portraits of each other, in pairs. Or at least, you’ll try. A few classes from now, we’ll do the same thing again and compare how much you’ve improved…”

Reid glanced around, hoping to catch the eye of someone willing to team up. But everyone had already paired off—almost instantly, like they were afraid of ending up with either of them. The two of them, constantly hissing at each other like stray cats, radiating more hostility than friendliness. Honestly, he couldn’t blame them.

So they were left with no other choice but to sit across from each other and start drawing.

He actually decided to take the assignment seriously. Better that than the realization he'd wasted his entire afternoon on something completely unproductive.

Glancing at the woman across from him—already hard at work, barely sparing him a glance—he spent a moment just studying her features. Analyzing the proportions, tracing imaginary angles across her face like some kind of invisible protractor.

At first, purely out of spite, he planned to exaggerate that perpetually annoyed look she wore like a second skin. But she kept smiling while she worked—so absentmindedly, so genuinely—that he found himself accidentally transferring that softness onto his sketch without even thinking.

He was only halfway done when a small giggle reached his ears from across the table.

She had set her brush down and was staring at her work, visibly amused.

“You’re done?” he asked, incredulous.

Was he really that easy to draw?

“Almost,” she replied vaguely, leaning over the canvas to add a final touch. Then, biting her lip, she studied it a moment longer—before finally presenting it to him with a proud little flourish. “Voilá. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He was silent for a moment.

“…What is that?”

“It’s you, silly!”

The sound he made was somewhere between a scoff, a snort, and a defeated sigh. He’d actually tried…

“Are you fucking serious…”

Her laughter.

“I swear, you’re the most insufferable—”

More laughter.

“—spiteful, venomous little—”

Her laughter only grew louder with every word, especially as her eyes flicked back and forth between the portrait and his very unamused face.

“How’s it going over here?” Carla materialized beside them, clearly drawn over by their very audible presence.

She glanced at Spencer’s portrait and gave a small nod of approval. Then she turned to look at hers—and her lips parted in stunned silence.

The figure on the canvas bore only a vague resemblance to Spencer. The oversized brown eyes were exaggerated into near cartoonish black holes, like twin collapsing stars. His hair had been rendered into a wild mess of scribbled brown, aggressively unkempt.

Beyond that, his body had been minimized to Lego-figure proportions while his head—a massive balloon-shaped monstrosity—was adorned with stress veins sketched on either temple.

The cherry on top? A single, disproportionately large hand raised with one finger pointed dramatically upward, as if delivering an unsolicited lecture.

A speech bubble floated from his mouth containing just two words:

Um, actually…

“I’ve always had a passion for comic art,” the artist of the masterpiece finally explained after a short silence, nodding with mock seriousness.

Carla tapped her chin thoughtfully, then gave her some kind of critique—though Spencer had stopped listening. His attention drifted back to his own work. The portrait wasn’t finished yet, but it did resemble her—he’d actually tried, unlike some people in the room.

On a sudden impulse, he grabbed his brush and with two swift strokes, added a pair of curly mustaches and a full Viking beard to her face.

Her eyebrows shot up.

Carla wandered off to check on another pair.

“Wow, I’d be such a hot guy,” she said, dramatically sighing as she pointed at the updated painting. “I wouldn’t be able to walk ten feet without getting hit on.”

“And are you now?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Twelve, last time I counted,” she replied nonchalantly.

Honestly, he was inclined to believe her. Before he could rush into a response, however, she suddenly straightened up on the wooden stool, as if struck by some sudden idea. From her pocket, she pulled out an intensely red lipstick, and to his utter bewilderment, began applying it to her lips.

“I’m leaving my signature,” she explained, puckering up and blowing him a kiss. Then, she kissed the corner of her painting, leaving a bright red lipstick print. Without missing a beat, she took it off the easel, practically shoving it into Reid’s hands.

“Here you go. If you ever go bankrupt, you can sell it. I won’t be offended.”

Spencer stared at the lipstick mark on the painting for a moment before shifting his gaze to her face, which still radiated so much self-satisfaction. He sighed, giving in, and a fleeting, amused smile appeared on his lips.

“Do you think it’s worth that much to pull me out of debt?”

“People don’t pay for art. They pay for the artist’s name,” she said, casually folding her hands over her knee in a comfortable pose. “So yes, that’s exactly what I think.”

On Monday, Morgan asked him what he had been up to over the weekend, and Spencer, adding a fifth spoonful of sugar to his coffee, shrugged and replied nothing interesting.

[anyxis]

I just hate how everyone seems to see Leona as less than he actually is. Neji, who was surprised to see his skills in the Bead Brawl. Vil, who was slightly offended when Leona could see trough his act and know he was injured (pretty sure the only other person who could have done that was Rook). Everyone comparing him to Malleus in spelldrive even though Malleus is practically a god with how magically powerful he his (of course he won’t be able to win?!).

Like, give the boy a break, would you?! He is so intelligent and talented. I’m pretty sure he could ace all his classes if he actually gave a damn. And let’s not forget about Vil’s Overblot. Remember when everyone came back to the scene, just to realise that the settings had all suddenly disappeared and there was not enough time to do it all again before the show? First off, Leona was the only one who thought of saving them in the cloud and, second, he obviously knew that something big happened for that to happen. Did he suspect it was an Overblot? I don’t know. But he was clearly suspicious of something.

Also, all the insights he gave Jamil during book 6? Helping him see that he could actually take his place and didn’t have to jump in front of Leona all the time? But also helping him think of how it was for Kalim? That money was power and Kalim was learning to use it?

All the chess references he gave during the new event and his opinion on how to develop his country to avoid having more people live like Ruggie his forced to live.

I don’t know… I just felt really upset about how people looked down on Leona in the new event and I needed to rant. I just feel like, if people stopped treating him this way, saying that they’re surprised of something almost basic or that ‘of course he would do that’, he would start showing that he cares about things and people. Because he does. God knows that boy cares. But what’s the use of putting himself out there if anyway people are going to give him backhanded compliments?

Edit: I forgot something in my rant! What’s up with the way Neji and the guards address Leona? Do they talk so freely with Falena? Will they talk that way too with Cheka when he’ll be older? Or do they just do this with Leona? Because, as far as I’m aware, Jamil didn’t address Leona that way and no one acts like that with Malleus (except us, but we didn’t know, and Lilia and Silver, but they’re his family). So what’s up with the disrespect, uh people??

Also, do we know what caused Leona’s scar when he was a kid..? Because I’d be curious to know which fucker did this to the poor boy!

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Listen the ‘Bruce brought dick in to stop him killing Zucco” is fun

You know what’s more fun

The fact that Dick Grayson is the fundamental opposite of Jokers one bad day

Because he was 9 and insane

Jokers “all it takes is one bad day” meet Dick Grayson also terminally insane but in the opposite direction.

(“I had a bad day not a fan, it’s illegal now”

“Chum murder is already illegal”

“Yeah in the eyes of the law, but who follows that! I’ve decided it’s illegal for people to have bad days”

“You have to follow laws Dick. You have to”

“Says the man getting shot at by the cops bc he dresses as a giant bat monster and fights crime using ancient martial arts”

“Hnnng”

“Anyway it’s illegal now, people suffering I have decided and I’m adorable so what I say goes!”

Bruce pinching bridge of nose “Dick you can’t save everyone and change every person you meets life”

“How about! No!”

“Di-“

“Great talk Bruce! Bye bye now!”)

Like when I say Dick Grayson was the crazy Robin I don’t mean he was aggressive or cruel

No I mean this man would not be out of place in Lewis Carol’s Alice in wonderland.

He’d see all the insane shit in Gotham and go ‘that makes perfect sense’ and continue on his merry way

Like he’s the type of kid who when he’s mad at Bruce for sidelining him on a fight against the joker (and making him fight Harley)

Will pull out a chessboard, grab Harley Quinn and go “I win, you get arkhamed you win we fight”

“Kid-“

“I have a gymnastics competition coming up and I wanna show up this douche in my class- you are not breaking my legs before then. Sit down. Play chess”

“Shit kid why didncha say so”

Why does he wanna fight the Joker who will objectively injure him far more throughly

“Well it’s simple math, I grew up in a circus, I like clowns, he is the biggest disgrace to clownery I’ve ever seen bet he didn’t even go to clown college. Doesn’t even have any iconic makeup, he just has toxic waste skin?? Like not even eye makeup or a red nose?? If you wanna do thematic crime do it right? Anyway it’s my legal obligation to try at any given moment to reck the embarrassment to all things goofy and funs shit.”

—————

Bruce looking for his 9 year old ward who was kidnapped as Robin

Dick hanging upside down on semi sentient vine gesturing wildly at poison Ivy who is nodding empathically

“And the water here is not normal!! Like how do you grow plants! I used to have to take care of plants all the time and now if I water them they rot! Like right in front of me!!? And I feel so bad but?? It’s water?? Please drink it?? Mr plant”

“Oh yeah it’s because of all the toxic ace chemicals in the water, you have to triple filter it. Honestly Robin I’m disappointed, your plants should be drinking the same water as you”

“ they do tho!”

“You…drink… Gotham tap water? Batman lets you drink Gotham tap water?”

“Well no… he always tells me to use the filter but I like the tap water!! Sometimes it’s fun colors and spicy”

“oh… oh that explains so much about you..”

“No he just came like that.”

“Oh HI B I was asking miss Dr.ivy why my plants keep dying”

“Robin don’t consort with villains”

“Miss Dr. Ivy you’re a doctor right”

Poison Ivy who is violently amused “PHD not MD but yeah I am”

“So you’re smart”

“Yeasss”

“Cool!…. What does consort mean?”

————-

Annoys the riddler by going with the most out of pocket technically true answer

Think “a sparrow with a shotgun”

———-

Makes the Jokers goons laugh, louder than the joker. Even while under threats of death by sufficiently wacky murder plot

———-

[lkfarrout]

I need everyone to understand that Stan and Mabel are SMART. Ford and Dipper are often portrayed as the smart ones while Stan and Mabel are the "stupid twins" but here's the thing: Stan and Mabel are just as intelligent as their twins, they just care about different things.

Alex himself, in one of the episode commentaries (Little Dipper, I believe) says that Mabel is just as smart, if not smarter than Dipper, and could beat him at chess if she wanted to. But she cares more about playing pretend with the cute horses instead.

Mabel is also a genuis when it comes to crafting. If you've never done something like knitting before, you have no idea how hard it is and how impressive it is for Mabel to make all the sweaters and things that she does. Maybe not all her sweaters are handmade, but the Waddles sweater and Goodbye Stan sweater are crazy impressive on their own. There's also Wax Stan, all the puppets, and many other examples. Those types of things take a lot of planning, math, practice, and expertise.

Stan is portrayed as being lazy and dumb in high school because he copies off of Ford in class and has a very lame science fair project compared to Ford, but Stan shows ambition in other areas during that time of his life.

For one, he builds what we can assume to be a sea-worthy vessel out of basically scraps of old wood ("Tony Stark was able to build this in a cave! With a box of scraps!"). I personally don't know anyone - much less a teenager - who could do that, especially in a time before youtube. And while Ford definitely did help Stan with the boat, we can tell by their feelings about it that Stan really did put in most of the work and care.

Another example, and a more subtle one, is that Stan was able to save up and purchase a nice, new (7 or 8 years old at the most) convertible catillac by the age of seventeen. He probably spent a lot of time working outside of school to accomplish that, while Ford was more focused on work inside of school. It's highly doubtful that Filbrick would have bought the car for Stan. Stan was highly ambitious during this time in his life, just like Ford was, but in different areas.

In the Land Before Swine commentary, Stan talks about working on the portal and says he had to learn "high school math". He really thought that what he was doing all that time was high school level math when really, it was probably closer to masters-level theoretical physics. This tells me that he probably didn't struggle with the math parts all that much, and because it wasn't super hard for him, he assumed it must have been high school level because he's far too dumb to do anything harder than that. Yes, it still took him 30 years, but that's mostly due to him not having access to all the blueprints that Bill helped Ford create.

All in all, I believe that Stan and Mabel are just as smart as their twins, but it isn't picked up on because the areas that they like to focus on are seen as silly and girly (in Mabel's case) or unprofitable and a waste of time (in Stan's case). In constrast, Dipper's intellectual efforts of solving mysteries, cracking codes, and doing things like converting a CD into a record (impressive!) further the plot of the show and are thus seen as more important. Just like how Ford's academic efforts are seen as profitable and thus more worthy of praise.

I'm of course not saying that Stan and Mabel are better than Dipper and Ford in any way - all the characters have their strengths and weaknesses and I love that about them. I love all four of the Pines Twins so much - they all have so much to offer and are all so smart. I really love this show and they way it creates depth with the characters, and I love analyzing them and writing commentary on them.

[bunnwich]

What kinds of things do people usually do for their birthdays? I don’t really know, will you help me figure it out?

Voicelines:

Summon: I wasn’t expecting everyone to make a big fuss but…I’m happy that you could make it!

Home: Before I go to bed I usually do something with my hair; saves me time in the morning. Grins

Home Transition 1: Hmm, this fancy lounge set showed up at my door the day before my birthday? I wonder who left it? Must be some sort of mistake. 

Home Transition 2: Savanaclaw apparently has no Vice Housewarden I’m staying here in their old dorm room. Got it all to myself! Come to think of it, Savanaclaw's got a lot of rooms that are empty.

Home Transition 3: Leona seemed pretty knowledgeable about this symbol on my sweater. Something, something about the mark of the Night Queen’s guard? He goes on forever about that stuff when we play chess. 

Home Transition - Login: Hey, I heard it’s a full moon tonight. Wanna sneak out and go see? There's a buncha cliffs in here where you can see the stars really well! 

Home Transition - Groovy: Now that I’m required to go to these dumb morning Spelldrive practices, there’s not much time to get ready in the morning... When I manage to roll out of bed, it's just enough to let out my hair and get in my uniform.

Home Tap 1: I may have the ex-Vice Housewarden’s room to myself but...it's a revolving door ‘round here. Sigh All these guys are always getting hurt somehow.

Home Tap 2: Yume gave me some new mini plant pots for my birthday! With the natural lighting in Savanaclaw it's a much easier environment to grow herbs for my potions. Plus...it helps liven up this dusty ass room.

Home Tap 3: Leona’s been acting weirder than usual, He acts like he hates parties but according to Ruggie, he’s never missed one at the dorm. What a weirdo…

Home Tap 4: What’s with the slides you ask? Don’t ask about the slides, okay? …It’s a long story.

Home Tap 5: If I have time, I’ll clean up my appearance in the morning for classes. You know, brush my hair out, maybe a little makeup. Look…mornings are rough for me, okay?

Groovification: Yawn It’s my birthday isn’t it? Thanks but- I’m gonna use it as an excuse to sleep in a little longer…

Home Tap - Groovy: In Savanaclaw it’s tradition for all the guys to come to the room of the “birthday boy's” at midnight. For such rowdy, boneheads the guys here have such soft underbellies…

Duo:

[YUU]: Ugh. What is it now, Leona?

[LEONA]: Hm? Can’t a guy help out his cute underclassmen, Yuu?

Birthday Login Message: Oh, yeah I guess it’s my birthday today. Shh, not so loud! The guys here are already so nosy. Oh, they're already planning something? And they invited you? Okay fine, what did you bring me?

Now that you're here might as well stay for the bonfire tonight. There'll be plenty of grilled meat…Yume’s bringing smores if we're lucky.  Here…the stars are brighter than at any other dorm. Heh, guess being out in the wild has it's perks sometimes.

[milunalupin]

hi!! I would like to request older!reader and older!sirius black where reader ends up saving him from bellatrix’s curse.

ty for requesting !! enjoyyy <3 + ty to my lovie for helping :)

— another one bites the dust (but it's definitely not sirius)

post azkaban!sirius x reader ★ 1.5k words

Lily Evans was your best friend. The two of you had been sorted into Gryffindor as muggleborn witches together and assigned the same dorm. The two of you did everything together, from studying in the library to braiding each others hair down by the Black Lake. Of course being that close meant you had to witness all of James Potter's attempts at winning your best friend over. One time you happened to alone on your way to class when James and the other 'Marauders' had stopped you, begging you for any tips on how to successfully ask Lily out.

"You've gotta let this go. She's way out of your league, you toerag." You had rolled your eyes at him, the boy gaping at your remark as you had always seemed pretty docile. Sirius Black — who you now notice was standing beside the bespectacled boy — barked out a laugh and applauded you, causing a warm feeling in your chest that you would never admit was because of him. Moreover, if James ever asked him to, Sirius wouldn't mind hanging out with you to get information on Lily (and not because he thought you were super cute).

Once James had successfully convinced Lily to date him, you and her had blended in well with the Marauders. When Lily and James would have their couple time, you would play chess with Peter and study with Remus in the common room. Sirius even let you join in on planning and performing their famous pranks (which did not jumpstart a crush on him or anything). The six of you had become your own little family, and when James had proposed to Lily after graduation it was no surprise who the groomsmen and maid of honor would be.

Meanwhile you had also fallen in love with Sirius Black during your time at Hogwarts, and the two of you had become attached at the hip. Sirius would walk with you to class, and you'd spend nights in the astronomy tower talking about the future.

You were each other's safe space, and Sirius loved you so deeply, which led to a lot of heartbreak the the night Lily and James were killed and your boyfriend was sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life for being the one who did it. You spent the next twelve years working under the Department of Magical Law enforcement as an investigator, trying to convince the Ministry that Sirius would never in a million years do anything to hurt his friend, much less kill him and his wife. They ignored you, dismissing your claims as a fit of hysteria, weaponizing your grief against you. You had been nonstop trying to figure out what exactly happened that night, regularly exchanging letters with Remus until he sent his final one, asking you to refrain from sending any more, as he felt too betrayed by Sirius to hear any of your theories.

The moment Peter had been revealed as the true murderer, Remus had come by your flat to apologize in person, the two of you reconciling over tea and teary hugs. When Sirius finally came back things were slow to return to "normal", but the two of you were just as in love with each other as you were back at Hogwarts. Because of his current situation with the Ministry, you moved in with him at 12 Grimmauld Place, then agreeing immediately when Dumbledore had come to the two of you about reassembling the Order of the Phoenix.

"You're a cheater Sirius Black, I don't want to play anymore." You huffed, standing up and throwing the playing cards down on the coffee table. The two of you were playing cards on the couch in Grimmauld place, trying to have a relaxing night amidst the recent chaos. Sirius cooed and pulled you down to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing sweet kisses to your shoulder. "Oh you'll survive, Mrs. Black."

The name alone caused you to melt into him, but the way he was looking at you in that moment made you feel like a teenager again, shy and in love with the boy before you. "Mrs. Black? We're not even engaged, love."

He grabbed your left hand, his thumb running over your ring finger, his voice becoming as soft as his touch. "It's coming, darling, don't you worry."

Your future mother-in-law screeched in horror from her place on the wall. "The most ancient and noble House of Black will not be accepting of a revolting mudblood! Must keep the blood pure, toujous pur!"

"I like to think I've been patient enough." you teased, gesturing to where his mother's portrait hung, the crazy bitch still muttering nonsense to herself.

Sirius sighed and lightly squeezed your hip. "I know m'love, you've been too good to me. Once things blow over a bit, I promise we'll get back to how things used to be, yeah?"

You hummed, brushing the hair out of his face and kissing his forehead. "No need to rush, we've got the rest of our lives, Sirius."

The fireplace suddenly lights up green as Severus comes through, his lip curling on one side as he saw the position you two were in and moved his gaze to somewhere else in the room.

"Severus," Sirius clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side. "to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"The Dark Lord," his eyes met yours, then shifted to settle on Sirius. "seems to have put an idea in Mr. Potter's head that you were being tortured at the Ministry. He's on his way there to look for you, you are to alert the Order."

You and Sirius stood immediately, thanking Severus as he disappeared again and sending your patronus' to the other Order members. They arrive quickly and the six of you head to the Ministry and apparate down to the lower level chambers, wands at the ready.

Kingsley and Alastor moved towards one group of Death Eaters, with Remus and Tonks on the defense. "Harry, where's Harry?" you were frantic looking for your godson, Sirius right beside you. You find him in combat with Dolohov, rushing to his side just as he hit the dark wizard with a Full Body Bind curse.

"Nice one, Haz!" Sirius praised from a few feet away. Harry beamed at you and you smiled and squeezed his shoulder quickly before heading back over to Sirius.

The chamber was complete chaos, the dark walls lighting up with flashes of all colors, all kinds of hexes and jinxes were being thrown around. You had to admit, Harry and the other students were great at duelling and really kept up with the Order members. Out of the corner of your eye you see your beloved's deranged cousin, her wand locked onto Sirius. Her wand glowed green as she shouted out an unforgivable spell.

You turn around to see him just a few feet from the Veil. "Sirius!" you gasp, immediately casting 'Accio' to pull him out of Bellatrix's way, his hands gripping your waist to steady himself, eyes blown out in shock. You both are staring at each other, eyes watery and chests heaving.

"Too fucking good to me, darling."

Your moment was interrupted by a screeching Bellatrix, sending a 'Confringo' your way. You managed to dodge it but the spell caught the sleeve of Sirius' coat.

"Don't you fucking dare!" you growled, shooting multiple stunning spells at her which she annoyingly kept deflecting. She laughed maniacally as you circled each other, casting spells left and right. The dark witch then shot another spell at Sirius, effectively hitting him in the back then grinning madly at you, "Whoopsie!"

Your heartbeat picked up as you realized where she was standing. You quickly scanned the chamber and it seemed that most of the Death Eaters had fled or been taken down. You'd never killed anyone before, but she was one of Voldemort's strongest followers. Not only that, but she tried to attack your Sirius not just once, not twice, but three times. Your eyes widened as you saw her prepare another curse on him.

"Not my boyfriend, you bitch!"

You cast 'Depulso', throwing her back a few feet into the Veil, immediately sending her into the world of the dead. You stood there frozen, your wand still pointed where Bellatrix once stood. Sirius pulled you back into his arms, whispering "thank you"s and "i love you"s into your ear.

Harry had appeared next as the battle ended, joining in your group hug, the three of you holding each other tight. You kissed the top of your godson's head, no longer unable to hold back your tears.

Harry had come home with you and Sirius that night, having some dinner and then going upstairs to stay in one of the spare rooms. Sirius held you close in bed that night, thanking you once again for saving him. You smiled and squeezed his hand, thanking him for coming back to you all those years ago. You fell asleep that night unaware of the sparkling diamond that was hidden in Sirius' nightstand.

[car-o-line]

Hear me out, tpn trio x reader MODERN AU hcs??? Like, dating them as normal teens going to school nd stuff???

oh ur giving me too much free will with this one😼

Modern Tpn trio dating hcs(part2??)

Emma:

She’s such a cutie omg.

Like she’d want to be around you 24/7/365-

And if she’s not there she’ll just call you.

Your contact in her phone is “Sunshine💛” 😭

If you both go to the same school it’d literally be her heaven.

Every class you have together is a field day for her.

She’s a pda person so hugs and kisses all the time, but if you return that affection she’ll die of happiness.

🧍🏼‍♀️=💀���

(Thats her dying btw)

Loads, and I mean loads of stupid pet names.

She’d be that kind of gf to plan y’all’s wedding before you even dated.

If someone would’ve hit on you she would literally agree with them😭

“Hey beautiful how you doin-”

“Awe! You think y/n’s beautiful!? Me too, they’re the best bf/gf in the world!!”

Honestly it almost embarrasses you how much dotting she does to you.

But you love her sm that she does deserve a soul for being ginger<3

Norman:

Very calm, very nice, very smart bf.

If you’re almost at an A in any classes he’ll literally stay up with you the whole night just so you get from a B to an A.

I like to think he has the most trouble using a phone out of the trio(because it’s funny) so he’ll just keep your contact as “y/n” to save him the trouble of nicknaming you.

He’s not as clingy as Emma is but if he hasn’t seen you for like, a day, he’ll stay around you more than normal when he does seen you.

Norman isn’t one to cause a scene so if you get hit on he’d literally just grab your hand and leave.

Definitely more of a private affectionate person so he’ll get flustered just by a simple cheek peck in public.

He’d play chess with you ig😒

But even though he loves you he still won’t let you win.

Real men don’t get distracted during chess.

Ray:

Said this in my last one and I’ll say it again, I hope you like books.

If you don’t then he wants a divorce.

If this boy got a phone I think he’d be able to understand how it works in like 2 seconds.

He’d name you “don’t reply even tho s/he cute” in his contacts😭

You wouldn’t even be able to fail a class if you were with him, he’s studying like all the time when he’s at school.

Forces you to read with him.

If you ever got hit on he’d either give them a death glare or give a tired sigh.

Little dates at the cafe.

Sometimes he just barges into your house and does whatever.

“Ray! You can’t just break into my house!”

“The door was open, and I wanted a cookie.”

He knew he was down bad when you actually listened to his rant about all his complaints.

He doesn’t talk much but when he does he lets out all his thoughts.

Isabella approves of y'all's relationship👍

[ephemerensis]

Sleep on the Floor, Dream About Me // Tim Drake x GN!Reader

happy belated valentines day everyone! i have been sick out of my mind and going only a little bit crazy. i offer you: tim running after a train. HAPPY ENDING. things start looking rough BUT TRUST ME. this is for my emotional pookies that can’t communicate to save their lives. i yapped too much on this one.

—

It'd been awhile since your last conversation, but you remember very clearly how flat it felt. Someone didn't reply to something else and it was never brought up again, any of it. Too bitter to chew on stale bread anymore, the two of you weren't ever so hungry. That was how things moved, you supposed

You thought of him often, especially during wind gusts. The arid weather he hated because his hands would be dry enough to crack, and you didn't know if there was anyone slipping a hand cream into his pocket for the day. Burning and brittle, his hands in biting weather, you could only hope he wasn't hurt and someone cared enough to know.

There probably was someone, he was always good enough to not be alone. And you were always so sure of your future together, you let things sit until they eroded.

It wasn’t so one sided. He’d think of you if weather was vibrant, enough to carry the scent of blue skies on a slow breeze. Temperate days, for you, meant a desire to touch the crisp air and to read your next personality into existence on your open porch. Days he knew very well, because you would always asked for a recommendation; and if he was fortunate, you would even invite him to join you on the occasion.

It was impossible to guess how you picked books now, or if you still read at all. Maybe time got the better of you these days. And it was a shame, because he had a list he kept updating on his phone for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp.

You’d met in the dingy basement of your high school. Two losers in the chess club, violently playing pawn for pawn in a way that invested you more than it should have. He was such a talker you could hardly focus on the pieces.

“Did you know dolphins have no hair? Even though they’re mammals,” he started. He wasn’t even looking at the board, and it was his turn.

If it wasn’t on his time you might’ve asked what that had to do with anything, but the more he talked the more time you had to plot and anyways he sounded nice, sweet in subdued way like iced tea. “Maybe they have like micro hairs, all mammals have hair.”

Tim shook his head, “nope, they’re slick and bald all the way through.”

“I don’t think you’re right, someone would’ve mentioned it. They’re not like platypi.”

“Well you don’t have to believe me.” He made his move, pushing his queen forward on the board. “But I did just beat you.”

It took you a second to process it, but he was right. He won after yapping at you the whole game, like a convoluted psychological strategy. One you were certain you wouldn’t fall for again.

So you asked for his number and a rematch, that he gracefully accepted. When you got distracted again, he threw the game to let you win and you knew from then on you’d never stand a chance against him. It was a sinking burning kind of feeling, a deep admiration with an undertone of never being equals. And you couldn’t tell if it was because he was really better than you or if you were just so deeply charmed it rendered you senseless. But you were certain you really liked that boy.

The more you got to know him, the more ensnared you became. In some sense it felt preordained, how well you got along, enough to kick up delusion to cloud your judgement. You liked to read and he liked to talk about it, telling you his conspiracy theories on intention and metaphor and author choices in between classes. He added every song you sent him to his playlist and he listened enough to learn some on piano for you. Tim’s favorite movie was your favorite movie. Chess was your burden, but in every game he fell short you excelled, like complimentary opposites.

It couldn’t have been one sided. He matched every text you sent, at least enough to have your name pop up in his suggested for as long as you’d known him. If he was out and about he’d tell you, and if he was burdened he’d complain to you. Tim had a way of talking to you that was different than everyone else around him, softer in a sense like you were something to be cradled, even if you were being difficult. And you being yourself could never discern if it was out of pity for him knowing you liked him, or unabashed care because he didn’t.

“I would never watch that again.” You’d dragged him to see Little Women, only because you’d never seen it and he said it was good. But you emerged puffy eyed and emptier inside than when you came.

He laughed at you, pulling out another tissue from his pocket to shove in your direction. “I thought it was really sweet, you didn’t like it?”

“It’s not sweet, it’s devastating. Jo’s okay in the end, but I don’t think I’d be.” You didn’t say much more than that for fear that you’d start crying again.

“You remind me of Amy,” he offered. You scoffed, punching his arm and scooting away on the bench you occupied.

“You’re telling me I’m annoying and dramatic and I have bangs shaped like a barcode?”

“No,” you could hear the smile in his voice like he was teasing you or it was really amusing, “I think you’re passionate, and in touch with your feelings, and pretty. She’s a good character because she’s emotional, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“…I didn’t see all that in the movie.”

“Then maybe we need to watch it again.”

“Just be quiet for now, I need to process everything,” you muttered, dropping your head to his shoulder.

He scoffed, “you’re very brave telling me to shut up.”

“I’m only brave because I know you’ll comply.”

Your companionship was good because it was easy. But it was the same ease that instilled a fear in you, if you were too boisterous or if you misinterpreted things it might ruin the ease you had. Things were comfortable as they were. You could stand everything else, as long as he was happy with you then it was fine.

Cautious but emboldened, you had a habit of testing the waters at first. Starting with the benign, telling him he was lovely or that you liked his haircut to see if he’d react. He was receptive, but you couldn’t tell if he was just friendly. Then came the matter of what he liked about a person, and that was just as vague. Not that you were any better, giving the same broad answers to keep from revealing your hand.

The mistakes probably started rolling when you would seek the underhanded. You never had the courage to say anything, so it was all you knew to do. Provoke him, see what he’d say, and form a conclusion. The tipping point was in spring, after all the heat died down from finals.

“That guy in my calculus classed asked me out the other day.” It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to share tidbits or exchange advice. Really, you were hoping for a reaction of some kind. Something that indicated disgust or at least discomfort at the thought you might consider it.

But he didn’t flinch, serene as ever he tilted his head and hummed. “What did you say?”

You had to be careful not to stare. Whoever said eyes were the window to the soul was a liar. You never learned anything about Tim looking in his, only that you felt like you could drown. Gleaming and calculative blue, he never let anything slip. But he was watching you too, gauging your reaction in his own way.

You shrugged. “I didn’t respond, I haven’t opened the text yet. I hardly know him. Only that he isn’t very good at calculus.”

Inconclusive. That must’ve meant you were at least considering it, and if that was the case, Tim concluded that he knew better. You would’ve been forthright if you liked him, enough to reject some idiot from your calculus class right away. Tim never stood a chance, he decided. “You should say yes if you want to. You’ll never know unless you go. Everyone’s bad at something.”

And then you knew better. He never resigned, even when he was losing, because he believed it eliminated all other possibility. If he cared for you at all, he wouldn’t have encouraged you.

Knowing better is a curse the burdened suffer with. Formed between the leeway of experience and intuition, with a hint of arrogance, the afflicted are slow to find ever if they are wrong.

Knowing better made communication between the two of you sparser over the years. At first you hung out less, and then you spoke less. When college started, you went to different schools and even texts got sparser, until they stopped. You knew better than to bother a busy boy, he was gentle and lovely and the world would caress him without what little you had to offer. He knew better than to speak without being spoken to, you were decisive and assured and would’ve said something if you wanted something.

It'd be better to say anything happened at all, a fight that led the two of you to ruin. But it’s the benign that scars, left to be prodded at instead of ripped off from the source. It would always be benign with Tim, a conceder at his core.

But he thought of you always, especially on windy days when his hands were dry enough to crack. You never told him where you got your hand cream and he never found one that smelled quite the same, mild and sweet like kisses from droplets of rain.

And you missed him so dearly at the bookstore. No amount of reviews on Goodreads compared to his commentary. You hadn’t read anything so soul seeking since his last recommendation, and it was getting discouraging to keep searching.

You’d gotten a job offer in a different city. It was far enough to make a commute unrealistic, practically across the country from Gotham. You would take it, because it’d be stupid not to, and you had nothing left here. It’d be stupid to stay over the leftover feelings you had for a boy that hardly liked you.

However, you’d feel dreadful leaving anyway. Especially without saying anything. You wanted him to know even if he didn’t care to know, and you wanted a last book for the road. One you’d never read, or only pick up if you were very desperate. So you swallowed your inhibitions and asked to meet, just once before you moved; and he agreed.

“So you reached out just because you’re leaving.” You picked the bookstore you met at, he picked the cafe after the trip. To your surprise he still remembered your order. Tim’s had changed, shifting from a cute americano in his early college days to a straight and narrow cold brew.

When you asked him what you should look into next he dragged you straight to the back of the store where they kept the obscurities, thumbing through the french philosophers to find something palpable— and that was the end of that.

“Well when you put it like that, it sounds terrible!” You didn’t know how he managed to sip it with a smile on his face, like it wasn’t bitter and intolerable. But he always had a mild temperament, swallowing tar like it was honey.

“You know what I mean, but congrats! Where are you going?”

“Star City.” Something flickered across his face, but you knew better than to think too hard on it and you didn’t want to. Honestly the whole day had been at least a little painful, because it felt like nothing had happened. Things were just as comfortable and natural as you’d left them, and after this you really would leave them.

“Better crime rate than Gotham,” he offered.

“That’s not hard to do,” you shrugged.

“When do you leave?”

“In two hours actually, I’m going by train.”

Tim’s mouth pressed into an ‘o,’ setting his cup down as if taken aback, before settling back into his easygoing demeanor. “Oh you’re killing me, that’s all I get?”

You laughed, both because it was a little ridiculous and because he was clutching his pearls. “Yeah, it’s not like you really reached out or anything.”

He gave you a nod, pressing his lips together. “Right.”

The short silence that settled after felt jarringly long, and it brought you back to the present. Things weren’t like they were, you’d just forgotten for a moment.

“Well it was—“

“Do you think—“ He started the same time you did, pausing in tandem to laugh it off.

“Sorry, you go ahead,” you offered.

“No, it’s okay, never mind.”

You squinted at him, it was a question you wanted to hear, if only to know what he was thinking. Although you didn’t want to prod either, never one to force his hand. “Okay.”

“Can I see you off at the station?”

“That’d be cool.”

The trip to the train station was faster than you’d anticipated. You weren’t taking much with you, just a suitcase and travel bag that he helped lug up and into your train compartment. Standing by the platform now, it was just about time for you to board before it left.

“You have everything with you?”

“Yup,” you nodded, “thank you carrying my suitcase for me.” Not that you asked, he offered.

“Always,” he smiled, he was looking at you a little longer than he should’ve. Even if you were trying to be oblivious, you couldn’t ignore his gaze. Still, it wasn’t for you to acknowledge or think on. “I guess this is bye then, for a little while.”

Your heart was beating so loudly, it shook your very core. It could’ve been from anything; nerves moving so far, regretting things last minute, fear of leaving for good, being close enough to touch him as you were about to embark far enough to forget.

Shoving the thoughts aside and the sinking feeling in your stomach, you threw your arms around him just to remember his form and how warm he felt against the cold of the winter air. Even if it was better to forget, you didn’t want to, holding tightly for a few breaths before burying your head in his scarf and muttering a small, “thank you for everything. Goodbye.”

Before he had a chance to respond, you let go, briskly making your way to your train car. Although, you weren’t convinced he would’ve said anything, just standing there staring like you said something very shocking. Standing at the doorway, you smiled and waved, hoping the last he’d see of you looked pretty.

To your surprise, he started approaching the train when the doors started shutting. “Wait! I have something to ask you!”

“What?” The doors clanged shut, as you made your way to the nearest window. When he made eye contact with you, he opened his mouth to speak but his words were muffled by the plexiglass.

“I can’t hear you!” you yelled.

Pressing his hands to glass, eyes wide and pleading, he yelled back. “Do you think we would’ve ever worked out?”

“What?” Your heart dropped as the train started to roll forward, making that sick feeling bubble up again. You made your way to the back of the train car, looking for him through the windows as you tried to keep your balance on the shaky floor.

“Would we have worked? Did you like me at all?” Both of you were yelling at the tops of your lungs, turning heads you couldn’t be bothered to perceive.

“Where is this coming from?” If you were in the right state of mind, you’d be mad, or at least annoyed. All these years and a few hours, his timing couldn’t have been worse.

Pressing hard against the back door of the car, you pushed it open to stand on the balcony. He was running after you, somehow keeping up despite the train slowly picking up its pace.

“I liked you! I’ve liked you for as long as I’ve known you,” he screamed between breaths, “and I had to let you know before you go!”

In the distance, someone was yelling at him to get off the tracks as if he’d hear it. Tim nearly tripped on a fence in his way, but he cleared it and recovered in a way that left you concerned and impressed.

You wanted to cry or laugh or throw up, all at once. You didn’t have time to think through any of it, and it was frustrating that he’d never said anything, but it was relieving to know anyway. Gripping the railing to keep steady, you screamed back as loudly as you could, to be heard and to bite back tears. “Your timing is terrible!”

“I know, and my legs hurt and I’m kind of winded, but I needed you to know!” He was sprinting now, loosening the scarf around his neck.

“What did you like about me!”

Despite claiming to be winded, he had enough energy to give you an incredulous look. “You’re on a train!”

“Answer!” you barked. Taking his scarf off, he threw an end in your direction that you managed to catch, holding on as he continued running gripping the other end.

“You are temperamental and irrational and emotional.” All the things you hated about yourself. You lifted the end you were holding, threatening to let go, making Tim shake his head. “And kind, and genuine, and it makes you beautiful! Everything about you aligns to make you the perfect person and I will never meet anyone like you again!”

He let go of the scarf, you were moving faster than he could run now and you knew it. There wasn’t time to think it over or stand stunned, as he got farther away by the inch, the foot, the meter; eyes hopeless and pleading. But when it came to Tim, the answer was very clear. Even if you took the time, you would always choose him in every outcome.

Clutching the fabric to your chest, you screamed. “Will you pick me up at the next stop!”

“I will!” It wasn’t very loud, eaten up by the wind and the engine and the growing distance, but it was no less clear to you; ringing in your ears. Watching as he slowed to a stop, hands on his knees to heave, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face or the tears running down your cheeks.

[chesstrainer24]

5 Reasons Why Learning Chess Online is Perfect for Busy Minds

In today’s fast-paced world, it can be challenging to find time for hobbies or activities that require focus and concentration. Chess, a game that requires strategic thinking and mental agility, is often seen as a pastime for those with plenty of free time. However, with the rise of online chess learning, busy individuals now have the opportunity to sharpen their minds and improve their chess skills without sacrificing their hectic schedules. Whether you’re an experienced player or a beginner, learning chess online offers flexibility, convenience, and a personalized experience that fits into even the busiest of routines. In this blog, we’ll explore the top 5 reasons why learning chess online is perfect for busy minds.

Flexible Chess Learning: Fit Chess into Your Busy Schedule

Why Learn Chess Online: Flexibility is Key

One of the primary benefits of online chess classes is the flexibility they offer. Traditional chess lessons often require students to follow a strict schedule, which can be difficult to maintain if you have a demanding job, family commitments, or other responsibilities. On the other hand, online chess platforms allow you to learn at your own pace, whenever and wherever it suits you.

With online chess for busy people, you have the freedom to choose when to play and study. You can fit in a quick 15-minute lesson during your lunch break, or spend an hour learning new strategies after work. This flexibility allows you to progress in your chess skills without feeling overwhelmed by the demands of a busy life.

Time-Saving Chess Classes

Another advantage of learning chess online is the ability to save time. Time-saving chess classes are designed to be efficient, providing you with concise lessons that maximize learning in minimal time. This way, you don’t have to spend hours commuting to a chess club or classroom – all you need is a device with internet access, and you’re good to go. Whether you’re at home, in a café, or during your commute, online chess lessons can easily fit into your day.

Chess Learning for Busy Minds: Mental Stimulation on Your Terms

Benefits of Online Chess Classes: Engage Your Mind Anytime

Chess learning for busy minds is an ideal way to keep your brain sharp and engaged. Many people struggle to find time for intellectual stimulation outside of their work, and learning chess online provides a way to challenge your mind in a focused and structured manner. The beauty of online chess for busy people is that you can fit it into your schedule without pressure.

Studies show that chess helps improve cognitive abilities such as problem-solving, pattern recognition, and strategic thinking. These skills transfer well to other areas of life, making chess an excellent tool for personal development. By learning chess online, you’re not only improving your game but also exercising your brain and enhancing your mental agility.

Play Chess Online for Beginners: A Perfect Starting Point

If you’re new to chess and have a packed schedule, playing chess online for beginners is an ideal way to get started. Many online chess platforms offer step-by-step tutorials and beginner-friendly lessons, allowing you to gradually build your skills without feeling overwhelmed. You can start with simple puzzles and strategies, then move on to more complex tactics as your understanding of the game deepens. The flexible chess learning process ensures that you can progress at your own pace, no matter how busy your life may be.

Access to the Best Online Chess Programs

Online Chess Coaching Advantages: Learn from the Best

When you choose to learn chess online, you gain access to top-tier chess coaches and resources that might not be available in your local area. Best online chess programs offer coaching from grandmasters, chess masters, and other highly skilled players. This access allows you to learn from the best, no matter where you live.

Moreover, online chess coaching advantages extend beyond just having access to expert teachers. Online programs often include interactive features, such as personalized feedback, video tutorials, and real-time analysis of your games. These resources are designed to give you a comprehensive understanding of chess while accommodating your busy lifestyle.

Why Choose Online Chess: Expert Guidance at Your Fingertips

One of the key reasons why online chess is such a great option for busy people is the availability of expert guidance right at your fingertips. With online chess coaching, you can get personalized lessons that cater to your skill level and learning goals. Whether you’re looking to improve your opening game, master endgames, or develop advanced tactics, online chess programs provide tailored content to help you succeed.

Continue Reading: https://chesstrainer.com/5-reasons-why-learning-chess-online-is-perfect-for-busy-minds/

[wisteria-lodge]

"I think Draco is fun to ship with any of the Golden Trio, because they've all got that martyr streak and Draco is a survivor, so they clash in interesting ways and end up balancing each other out." Could you explain more for Harry and Draco, and Ron and Draco?

Harry's martyr streak runs pretty heavily through the text. Hermione calls it his "saving-people-thing" and absolutely calls him out on the fact that he is very, very willing to put himself at risk or sabotage himself if it's in service of Someone Else or the Greater Good. An entire genre of Drarry fic features Harry-as-Miserable-Auror. The idea is that Harry would end up as an Auror post-war because Saving People is What He's For... and then either doesn't care (or doesn't notice) that he's burning himself out, unfulfilled, unhappy, self-destructive, you name it. But Draco notices, because if you're Draco Malfoy the first and most important rule is Stay Alive.

Hermione's martyr streak manifests in her workaholism, and the fact that she will absolutely burn herself out researching Magical Creature Law for Buckbeak in Book 3 while she's also taking more classes than anyone else, or spend all her free time knitting house elf hats in Book 5 when there's lot of other stuff going on, or do the lion's share of the logistical work in Book 7 even though it's clearly stressing her out. I think that Hermione is inclined to think of her body as not a body that had needs, wants, and limits - but more a case to carry her brain around. Draco's a nice one to throw into the mix because he (and his family) value comfort, and beauty, and work-smarter-not-harder. He's not going to stand for Hermione not decorating her apartment because she "didn't have the time."

Ron is the least martyr-y of the Golden Trio (low key where a lot of the Book 7 conflict between him and the others comes from. Ron's not as willing to sacrifice himself.) But he does still have this low-burn... fear? suspicion? That he's just not as important as his friends. So if it's Harry.... yeah, he'll sacrifice himself for Harry. I'm thinking about the sacrifice play he makes during the chess match in Book 1, "If you're going to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too" in Book 3, the way Ron's the one back-talking Voldemort in Book 7... that's off the top of my head, I'm sure there are more instances. Sadly Ron/Draco (Raco?) (Ronaco?) (Dron?) is not as popular as the other two, because I think there's a lot of creative potential with Ron and Draco unpacking where their mutual fixation on Harry is coming from, or Draco challenging a lot of Ron's very baked-in assumptions about the world and his place in it. Draco has always been important, and special (what Ron wants.) But Ron has Harry's friendship and the world's respect (while Draco does not.) I think it would actually be very healing for Ron to see himself through Draco's eyes.

[sweetbunpura]

Cloudcalling on the Savanna: Checkmate

WC: 1146

Leona Looked up as storm clouds started to roll in, his eyes shifting down towards the arena as Kalim stepped out of it. With Lilia disqualified and Vil out of commission, it all fell on his back up plan.

“Shall I prepare the classes ahead of time?”

Green eyes shifted over to where Kifaji sat with a smirk on his face. Leona glared at him over Cheka’s head and jerked his head down to the arena.

“You haven’t won yet, Bird. If you start celebrating prematurely, then what’s about to happen next, is going to make you eat your words.”

The final team’s opponent stepped into the ring and while Kalim, Vil, and Lilia began to talk among them, Leona’s final chess piece entered the ring as well. The figure tore off their cloak and tied their hair back in a ponytail.

“It’s Auntie!” Cheka beamed and jumped in his seat. “You got Auntie in, Unca!” He tugged on Leona’s sleeve and pointed at the arena.

Yuu rolled her shoulders and jumped in place a few times. Her eyes locked onto Leona’s and she smiled, he returned it before flicking his tail, signaling her to go ahead. The match began just as the rain started to fall.

“You’re the backup plan?” Her opponent teased her. “It should’ve been the fae.”

“You know, they say trash talking is the sign of not being confident in one’s skill.” Yuu smirked and stretched her legs. “So, you must be pretty shit to be trash talking a girl. You that scared or something?”

Leona tried to hide his smirk as his ears caught the stifled laughter from Vil and Lilia. Her opponent snarled and dove at Yuu, who swiftly dodged as she was light on her feet. From there on, the magicless student danced around the arena and never once made a grab for the beads.

“You talk about my trash talk when you dodge everything!” The guy snarled and gestured to Kalim. “You’re no better than he is! So, are you just as weak too!?”

The shift in Yuu was immediate as her playful nature left and she rolled her shoulders. She raised her hand and motioned for him to come at her. The moment he did, the young woman caught his arm and twisted it before throwing him on the ground and snatching the beads only in a matter of seconds. A heavy silence fell over the arena as Yuu signed and spun the beads around her finger.

“Way to ruin it for me.” She grumbled. “The first time out in a while where I don’t have to worry about anyone and you start shit.” Yuu tossed the beads up and down as she stepped over the guy like he was trash.

Lilia couldn’t hold in his laughter and let it loose, filling the air with his shrill giggles. Vil tried to cover his laughter up with coughs to save his image. Leona waited for the murmurs to start up before he threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. Even Kalim’s laughter couldn’t be contained as Yuu stepped off the platform.

“I-how...” Kifaji blinked and adjusted his glasses. “There’s no feasible way she can move that fast.”

“I wanna do that!” Cheka shouted with glee.

“Cheka.” Kifaji muttered and the cub settled down quickly with a pout. “My prince, is this your doing?”

“I don’t have to tell you.” Leona scoffed as he got up. “All you need to see is the outcome. That stunt you pulled with the backup was low, unfortunately for you, Cheka loves his ‘auntie’ and he told her everything.”

“That was...” Kifaji cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “You did all of this at the last minute?”

“Yes and no.” Leona’s tail flicked in irritation. “You twisted the rules to try and one up me, but you didn’t see the Queen I had protected in the back. So, checkmate, bird.”

Leona got up, ruffled Cheka’s hair, and departed from the stands. Kifaji tired to call him back, but the prince ignored him and joined the NRC group. Without hesitation, Leona picked Yuu up and made a dash for his car with the others scrambling behind the couple. Vil barely managed to close the door just as Leona put the vehicle in drive.

They took off down the road with the top down as they laughed about the match. Yuu leaned on her arm and seemed to be nodding off, only to be shaken awake by Lilia.

“Yuu, why didn’t you tell us that you can do that?”

Yuu yawns and rubs her eyes. “All the times you’ve seen me fight and now you ask that?”

“I never stayed for the full fights, dear.”

“Well, my own training for my profession and then Leona personally trained me for this.”

“My, my, Leona spoiled you~” Lilia chuckled.

“Shut up.” Leona huffs as Yuu leans on his shoulder, which he places his hand on her shoulder.

“...How long were you guys training for?” Vil asked.

“Early into the morning.” Leona rubs Yuu’s shoulder. “She only got two hours of sleep.”

“Two hours of- Leona.” The model replied firmly. “Potato needs more than that.”

“Wait, and she still had the energy to do all that?” Kalim spoke up. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” The city had appeared ahead of them. “If the bird starts asking anything, ignore him. He ain’t worth the energy.”

As soon as they reached the city and the hotel, they disembarked from the car and made their way to their rooms. Lilia helped Vil while Leona carried a sleeping Yuu in his arms. The others went to their rooms as Leona made tracks to his. He set Yuu on the bed and tossed off his wet clothes, just as he was putting on a pair of pants, a low whistle sounded from the bed.

“What a thing to wake up to.” Leona snorted and approached the bed, “If I wasn’t so tired, then I would love to celebrate our win.”

He stares down at a very drowsy Yuu who's looking back up at him with a smile on her face. The lion beastman chuckles and places his hands on either side of her head while he leans down. His tail swaps behind him as he stares down his girlfriend.

“Go back to sleep, Herbivore.”

Yuu reaches up and tugs on his braids. “Only if you join me.”

Leona kisses her without a moment of hesitation as he wraps his arms around her and flips them so she’s laying on top of him.

“Best pillows~.” Is the last thing Yuu says before passing out.

He holds her close and gives a low rumbling purr as he buries his face in her hair.

“You have no idea how much I love you.” He muttered and gave a shaky breath. “Thank you for being here.”

[the-maid-of-witchwood]

Drop your headcanons for Pete and his ships, I dare you

*cracks knuckles*

Solo headcanons:

Lives at home but does visit and stay with Ted from time to time

Also is allowed to use Ted’s place for hangouts (usually plans them for when he knows Ted won’t be home though)

Their extended family all live in Poland and they visit every summer, every second Christmas

He knows Polish

Wants to be more in touch with his heritage

Their paternal grandparents live beside a goat farm and Ted always climbs the fence to terrorise them. One of Pete’s earliest memories is one of said goats beating the shit out of Ted for it

In turn, he’s not particularly fond of goats. Not scared per se, but would rather avoid them

His mom put him in a ton of after school activities in the hopes he would make friends: tap, musical theatre, chess, cooking, computing, ballroom and Latin dancing, ice skating, hiking, birdwatching, golf and first aid training

Subsequently, has some really weird skills and knowledge

Hot chocolate is one of the only drinks he’ll have

He isn’t as fussy with his food, but drinks? Yeah

Definitely had one of those at home magic kits as a child

Has been in the school shows but just ensemble or running the sound board

Tries to get Ruth to join him in the ensemble but she always chickens out before sign ups last minute

Has beef with Kevin (Joey’s drama student) for no particular reason, he just thinks Kevin’s an idiot

Did think about becoming a tutor but after one too many horror stories from PJ, he talked himself out of it

He and Alice are childhood friends because of Bill and Ted

They use to be livid if they went into CCRP for something and the other wasn’t there to play/annoy Paul with

Decided he didn’t like Grace after she got 10/10 on a spelling test in first grade and he didn’t. He likes her now but clearly is still a little bitter about it

A huge movie geek

Both he and Richie are aggressively fighting for top marks in their film studies class

Is really good at video games

Ted got him into them and a lot of their brotherly bonding (and rivalry) comes from that

His mom use to cut his hair, it wasn’t good. Ted use to bully him for it

He plays the clarinet and is in the school orchestra because he wasn’t cool enough to be in the marching band

Favourite subject is chemistry

And wants to pursue something in that field

Plans to go to university somewhere outside of the US, probably through a scholarship

Has always been really tall

First crush was Zoey, following her serving him at Beanie’s

Ironically, everyone who works at Beanie’s (save Nora) completely hates him and shit talks him during their breaks

He can sew and makes a lot of his own clothes - matching suspenders, bow ties, jumpers and socks

Is in the school’s debate and chess clubs

Runs a DND night every month for the friend group, he usually ends up as the DM because nobody else can do it. Richie did it once and the game fell to shambles

Told everyone he was watching Bridgerton for the historical aspects as a history buff when he was actually watching for the spicy scenes - he already knew the show was historically inaccurate

Not wanting to be considered a sleaze like Ted, he ended up making himself sound very prudish in middle school and hasn’t been able to live it down

Was in the running for senior class president until Max made him step down because he didn’t want a nerd in power

Ultimately wins valedictorian

Lautski:

Pete fell first, Steph fell harder

Steph was lowkey a little disappointed when he stopped wearing the suspenders because she wanted to flick them again, definitely not as an excuse to get closer

Absolutely puts on Pete’s glasses and clothes (as best she can, probably doesn’t button up) to mock him, seductively

She’s saved as “Persephone” on his phone - similar to Stephanie, the use of “phone” and Steph is a goddess to him

She later uses the name for a DND character

He spends hours working on flirty lines for her but completely stutters through them or they’re really dorky and a little cringey, Steph still appreciates the effort

Makes online flashcards for Steph

Steph has tried and failed to play his clarinet

Do a lot of virtual dates through video call. They like spending time together but obviously can’t see each other in person 24/7, so this is the solution

He’s just there as she puts on her makeup or she’s in the background while he makes dinner

Pete’s definitely fallen asleep with the call still going

They are both night owls but Steph is a lot worse/stays up stupidly late

Pete knows Steph’s favourite makeup products/brands and has every little detail memorised about them. He knows the exact mascara type, the serial number to that red lipstick, the tip of the brush like the back to his hand

They have never had a successful date at Pasqualli’s; something always goes wrong

They also get banned eventually because Steph beat up one of the waiters (Ethan) because he use to bully Pete

Miss Retro’s is their go to

Go to sports games and competitions sarcastically together

They love road trips

Will just drive around Hatchetfield aimlessly for fun

He tries teaching Steph to dance… she stands on his toes a lot

But he loves her and still asks her to dance again and again

Steph can’t kiss Pete without standing on her tiptoes or wearing heels unless he’s bending down

Really want to do karaoke together but their music tastes don’t really overlap so it always ends horribly for someone

After their study dates, Pete always finds lipstick kisses in his notebooks but has never seen or caught Steph doing it, so is always totally thrown and confused. He was with her the entire time, how the fuck did she—

Lautskity:

Pete gets both his girlfriends shoes

More sensible ones for Steph because “you can’t wear heeled boots all the time, you’re gonna break your ankle, Stephanie” and (small) heels for Grace at prom because her parents have never let her wear anything but flats; she deserves nice shoes

She still isn’t tall enough to kiss her partners in them

As much as Pete loves handling Grace’s hair, he’s scared to touch Steph’s - it’s handled by the best, most expensive hairdressers in Hatchetfield or Steph herself, he’s not risking it

Mr Houston and Miss Mulberry go out of their way to fluster them a little about their relationship, not that it works on Steph but the other two? Screwed

They really wanna do group costumes but there are not enough poly ones out there that are well known

Steph goes to the school shows and orchestra performances for them, but doesn’t get the atmosphere at all and treats it like a concert. Has to be told to sit down and put her phone away

All cuddled up together during movie nights

Movie nights, featuring the talk over (historical inaccuracies, problems and opinions) of Pete and Grace, and the unrelated audio from whatever Steph’s watching on her phone

Grace is an early bird, big morning person, and definitely has surprised her partners to breakfast in bed on more than one occasion

They keep meaning to pay her back for it but haven’t managed to wake up before her yet (without waking her in the process, e.g. alarm clock)

Steph has a lot of photos on her phone, half are solely of Pete and Grace. She lets them walk ahead and gets really aesthetic shots without their knowledge - and then are like “wait, where did you get this lockscreen from?”

They don’t really like having their photo taken whereas Steph does

Steph likes being in the middle. She needs them either side. She’s the most physical of the three and, though she won’t admit it, gets a little anxious if they aren’t nearby for long periods of time

She’s also the clingiest

Grace is usually on her right and Pete on the left

(Yes, that’s how they sit in the Summoning, what of it?)

The amount of times Pete and Grace see each other with red marks and think the other has been hurt, only to get closer and realise it’s just Steph’s smeared lipstick is insane

Steph herself has done it at this point

They never really told anyone they were dating, everyone just kinda worked it out or knew about the feelings early on

I already did Pete and Grace, but pretend they are here too

[welivetodream]

Here's my sskk highschool K drama Au:

Atsushi: protagonist; socially awkward, but super friendly, is insecure, grew up in an orphanage and doesn't know what he wants in life. Ends up saving his senior from drowning and get invited to a book club by said senior. He has a bad first encounter with Akutagawa and becomes his enemy (without realising)

Akutagawa: love interest; the cold, calm vice president of the book club. He got adopted by a rich doctor. Gets perfect grades, likes painting and hates being around people. People often avoid him because he acts rude/mean. He takes an interest in Atsushi, thinking of him as a rival but ends up falling for him without realising it.

Dazai: the senior who invited Atsushi to the book club. He's chaotic, trouble maker and sneaky. He likes meddling into people's lives and relationships, often playing matchmaker. Has a long list of ex's. And has a tragic past that no one knows of. He is also suicidal and struggles with depressive episodes.

Kunikida: the president of the book club, takes in Atsushi and becomes his mentor. Dazai plays pranks on him and annoys him a lot. He is always anxious about school, grades and his reputation. He has a hard time maintaining his image as the perfect student.

Chuuya: the new transfer student that has some past connection with Dazai; a bad one. He wants to be a famous singer and has a great voice. Him and Dazai bicker a lot and pretend to hate eachother, while being too close at the same time. He is the second test subject for Dazai's pranks after Kunikida.

Yosano: is the nurse's assistant, she loves gossiping and socializing. Has a caring heart and people often come to her with their problems, whether it be an external injury or internal struggle. She was adopted by the school's headmaster, Fukuzawa, along with her childhood bestie, Ranpo.

Ranpo: is the school's golden child, a prodigy in problem solving and chess. He doesn't attend regular classes, spending most of his time in the library reading detective books. He develops a blossoming bond with the library monitor, Poe.

Poe: is a shy, introverted writer, who likes writing mysteries but Ranpo solves them so easily, making Poe consider him his rival. He admires Ranpo's intelligence and subconsciously simps for him.

Kyouka: is one of Mori's adoptive kids, she is severely bullied in middle school. Atsushi protects her when he sees her getting bullied and starts to take care of her. She starts to open up and takes an interest in learning fencing.

Kenji: came from the countryside, is jolly, nice and helpful to everyone. He becomes Kyouka's first friend in middle school, helping her get out of her shell.

Lucy: is Atsushi's bestfriend from the orphanage, she clashes with Akutagawa when he treats Atsushi badly. She loves debating and fighting, with dreams of becoming a prosecutor. She is very protective over Atsushi because he saved her from becoming a bully when they were kids.

Louisa: is Poe's friend, she also loves reading books and spends most of her time daydreaming in class. Because she is shy, she doesn't have many friends. She admires Lucy's free spirit and plucks of the courage to be friends with her.

Higuchi: is one of Akutagawa's many fangirls whom he constantly rejects, but she misunderstands the rejection as him playing hard to get. Her heart falters when she crosses paths with Akutagawa's quiet and cool younger sister, Gin.

Gin: is Akutagawa's younger sister, she wants to be in the national archery team. She mostly spends her time at practice, just like her older brother has a lot of fans. She feels bad for Higuchi and tries to friends with her, a start of something more.

Kouyou: is Kyouka's older sister, who is a ballet dancer. Eventhough she is incredibly protective over Kyouka, she doesn't know about her having a hard time in school. She doesn't come to school often and has an aura of mystery around her because of that

Junichiro: is Atsushi and Akutagawa's classmate and their class president. He is the first person to reach out to Atsushi and tries to be friends with him. He has a clingy younger sister Naomi. He works a lot of part-time jobs to take care of himself and Naomi. Often sleeps during classes.

Naomi: is Junichiro's sister, who feels very attached to her older brother after their parents died and is extremely afraid of getting abandoned or being alone

Tachihara: is Junichiro's classmate, he is Chuuya's friend and also the basketball captain. He is a delinquent, despite being really good at studies. He often gets into fights and gets saved from punishments because of Junichiro.

Fukuzawa: the headmaster of the highschool. He is quiet and reserved, but adores children and has a secret soft side for them. He is also a cat lover. In university he was close with Dr. Mori but they both fell out because of Mori's terrible medical malpractices

Mori: is the richest doctor in town who has ties with the Mafia. He has a lot of influence and power. He only takes elite, rich patients. He adopted some children to train them into inheriting his many clinics and other businesses. He still tries to reach out to Fukuzawa and work with him in future business venture but keeps getting turned down.

(I wanted to write more, but this was already a lot 😭😭😭. And yes I aged characters up and down to fit them into highschool and different classes. I will think about the Decay of Angles later....maybe they are in a different rival school)