#and the ending felt rewarding and also honest! like it all made sense

[endlesslycoffee]

y'all love complaining tsats is GOOD

[chainera]

My Thoughts on Vercury + Doodles

To be honest, my relationship with this pairing is literally a love-hate one.

When I first heard about it, I’m not going to lie, I was super turned off. This was during SolarBall’s early episodes, where Mercury was shown constantly being bullied by Venus and I could not imagine being paired with my bully if I was in a similar situation. There was no chemistry between them, and even if there was, it wouldn’t be healthy. Especially during the whole Venus’ name arc, where Mercury constantly mocked him and got an asteroid to the face. Personally, the ship made no sense to me and sounded downright toxic. But of course, the more recent episodes came out. The atmosphere (even though there’s no atmosphere in space lol) between Mercury and Venus seemed… more neutral than hostile or tense. This is mostly because Mercury started to stand up for himself. Two scenes of note is the moment where Mercury laughed at Venus’ comment during the Rocky Planets episode and when Mercury snapped at Venus during the ‘Solar System by Size’ arc. What’s interesting is that after Mercury yells at him, Venus looked regretful, which was definitely new. Mercury didn’t shout at him about the consequences of him siding with the Sun or anything like that either, he simply said that he was fine with Venus hating him ‘for the sake of everyone else’. After that, Venus didn’t immediately change his mind but did try to explain his side of things, which was also new. As of right now I still don’t see anything happening between them, but I definitely do see the appeal in the ship and the potential for it to eventually happen.

From a settings standpoint- the potential is obvious. We don’t know what happened to cause Venus to pick on Mercury so much, we don’t know what their past was like, and with the answers to those questions revealed, Mercury and Venus might reconcile. Venus clearly has a lot of problems with his conditions as being called ‘a literal hell’ by the Earthlings, and Mercury also has his own insecurities and issues with the Sun. Mercury is already learning how to deal with these things, but Venus hasn’t quite figured it out yet. I’m quite interested on how Venus will be developed and how Mercury will play a role in this. I don’t think Venus downright despises Mercury, and vice versa, but they do have a ton of shit to sort out which may lead to a hopefully happy ending. Now, from a character standpoint there’s also a ton of potential. Venus and Mercury are kind of opposites, and yknow the saying… opposites attract. It would be really sweet if Mercury could calm Venus down when he was getting too ticked off, and Venus could treat Mercury nicely in his own way. Their personalities contrast really well. I didn’t like Vercury before because I felt if it actually happened Mercury would just allow Venus to treat him like crap, but now I feel like Mercury would know how to set proper boundaries and they would be equals. In a healthy relationship, there shouldn’t be a power imbalance, so with Mercury’s character development and Venus’ potential to change and be kinder (though not necessarily gentler) power imbalance shouldn’t be a problem. Another aspect is the fact that Venus and Mercury are both quite lonely. Earth and Mars are extremely close friends (or more haha), and while Mercury does have the Sun, he’s kind of forced to walk on eggshells in that relationship. They’re also neighbor planets, so there’s that. In all, I definitely agree with the concept of Vercury, but if it should happen, it should be after Venus and Mercury at least began to try and sort everything out. Here’s some (a bit spicy) doodles as a reward for listening to my rant again :D

As always, I’m open to other people’s opinions- especially on a topic as complex as this one. I just ask that you be respectful. Thank you.

[byebyassociation]

Cahara the Skank (Character analysis)

Tw: The topics of 1500s prostitution, violent rape and suicide ideation

Text version under cut:

Cahara as a protagonist

“Cahara of the South… He originates from the Eastern Sanctuaries. A bastard child left on his own at a very young age. Somehow this poor soul found his way to these dungeons…”

Cahara grew up under unfortunate circumstances, as he was abandoned in Jettiah he had to learn nothing in life came easy or freely

He had three choices to be a pickpocket, burglar, Or lead an honest life

But this choice means little past starting skill/item. No matter what Cahara becomes a mercenary.

“As you grew older you took part in various mercenary armies and learned the dirtiest tricks to stay alive. You were taken in by a notorious veteran highwayman and you joined his little band of criminals and ex-soldiers.”

Instead his first real life choice is if he will stay beside his first real allies or ditch them for his life.

They do not join him in the dungeons if they live

“During one of your many raids, your brigade got ambushed. The odds were seriously against you. You could have just abandoned your comrades and kept you life, or you could have fought to your last breath...”

He didn’t have to take this mission, however his mental narration states as if he does: shoving down fear for the money.

“Something is clearly not right about this mission and you have felt nausea since the the moment you agreed on the job. But you are short on silver and the reward is all that matters in the end.”

Really, he shoved his own feelings down for Celeste

"Celeste, you're still doing this job with the little one on the way and all?!"

Cahara is not opposed to Celeste’s sex work, instead he is opposed to the men who want her due to her pregnancy

"If anything, I feel like there're more gentlemen folks asking for my services these days."

"This isn't right. I don't like it."

"Girl's gotta eat and now I got the little one to feed as well”

"I'm a man. I should take care of you two."

“I’m leaving tomorrow if— no when I get back things will change. You just wait and see!"

He doesn’t tell her what to do, only stating what he himself can do for her

Sadly, he either already had a sense this could be his end or didn’t even let himself think this would be the last time he spoke to or saw Celeste in the flesh

"Just promise you do come back."

He knocked her up in a brothel and contracted syphilis.

“You also get an itch in your groin area...”

Unfortunately a sign of the sorts of people who’d pay for her services without care for her body.

After at least speaking with Celeste he fully made up his mind. He wouldn’t come back without the cash.

“But didn’t he like it?”

Cahara as an NPC

"Oh hey."

"You got me out of here!"

Upon meeting Cahara in the prisons of the dungeons, he is quick to join your party after a short conversation

[You ask him] “What are you doing here?"

[He answers] "Wwell...”

“I do have a mission here, but let's save that story for another day, yeah?"

Regardless of your questioning, he speaks quite anxiously. Stuttering or going silent in an out of character sequence

[You ask him] "Why were you imprisoned here?"

[He answers] "I was caught by one of those malformed prison guards”

“Your conversation took an awkward turn for some reason...”

Prison guards are shown to be sexually violent to those they have access to. Both in their dialogue, their attacks and how defeat by them causes incurable hemorrhaging from sexual injuries.

Cahara does not show signs of this hemorrhaging, however D’arce doesn’t have a concussion either despite nearly having her skull caved in. Both lack status effects for the sake of balance.

When Cahara robs you he has a preference for stealing healing items

This may be his attempt to patch himself up as there is no canon cure for internal bleeding.

[D’arce’s prison dialogue says] "Le'garde... You were supposed to be here…”

When in the prisons most characters bring up your common mission. D’arce, Ragnvaldr and even Enki bring this point up

Cahara breaks this formula

[Cahara’s prison dialogue says] "Tell me... Did the guards ever capture you here?"

He wants to know if he was the only one. He wants to know if there was anything he could’ve done. He’s seeking solidarity. He’s seeking kinship

"Don't let the dungeon have it's way with you. Bye."

"Talk about traumatizing events... Sheesh…”

"This place is starting to get into my head...”

Does this sound like the words of someone unaffected by the dungeons? He is nonchalant but he is not well. In fact that last line is repeated 11 times. He has 18 unique dialogue lines in party talks, none of his dialogue or anyone else’s appears nearly as many times repeatedly.

He’s gone into shutdown, in the upper areas and especially the prisons and areas around it he just cannot hold up. Mentally he cannot juggle his need to keep moving forward and process what happened. 

This leaves his mind to go entirely unfiltered when he is in a space where he can think. Suicide ideation and turning to sex for comfort being his two major callings in this state. Sometimes even mashing together through his willingness to marry a marriage, a very literally dangerous form of sex.

"Hahaha, this is too good"

"Dying down here is most likely the easiest way to go!"

'I'm starting to feel like death would be the easiest option."

“Cahara seems really enthusiastic.”

"Just don't destroy my anus with those big muscles of yours, okay?"

"Ehh, well that's a freaky suggestion, but fine."

[steppingonyourshadow]

Selected excerpts from Marie Claire January 2024

It's difficult to miss Xiao Zhan's strong sense of boundaries. When being interviewed, he will constantly say, "if I may put it that way", either as a question or confirmation for himself. He's also constantly reflecting on himself.

For example, constantly reminding himself not to perform from habit, as becoming too accustomed was a slippery slope to the dreaded state of inertia. Like the way he constantly emphasises that he has no interest in putting on an air of mystery, there were many things he had yet to learn, and he was merely sharing his honest, everyday feelings. And like his response to hearing a crew member say he was tireless in pursuit of excellence - that he had yet to reach "excellence" and was only pursuing "better".

Xiao Zhan doesn't speak rapidly, but with fluid eloquence, not with an explosive, fiery temperament. Like pleasant idle chit-chat, with a bit of the classical air of a learned Confucian gentleman.

And he's not even a little tense. Willing to talk about every topic under the sun, and when he's particularly satisfied, he leans back in the chair, holding his right leg loosely with both hands. The conversation ranges from the always resonant emotion contained in classic songs, to AI, our view of humanity, and his experiences in life and acting.

Xiao Chunsheng of "Where Dreams Begin" was a role that felt fresh, because he was so obviously different from Xiao Zhan's own character.

Xiao Chunsheng is a young man from the 70s, whose environment and upbringing could not be more distinct from Xiao Zhan's own. Military coats, "two-eight" bicycles, the ice rink of Shichahai, growing from a callow youth into a middle-aged leader of industry, none of this was familiar to Xiao Zhan.

Even now, traces of Xiao Chunsheng can still be found in Xiao Zhan. When speaking of one of the characters, Chen Hongjun, he kept using "Hongjun-er". That's the Beijing accent he learned for the role: using "er" at the end, "aiyowei" and "huo" as exclamations - these were once a constant refrain for Xiao Zhan.

Language and the time setting aside, the biggest difference between Xiao Zhan and Xiao Chunsheng is in personality. Xiao Zhan is an introvert who enjoys being alone, and Xiao Chunsheng is the complete opposite - he makes friends everywhere and loves to make things happen. Using today's standards, this kind of enthusiasm often translates to a person with a poor sense of boundaries.

"Times change more and more rapidly; today's youth all live fast-placed lives, and won't casually breach each other's boundaries," Xiao Zhan remarked. "But Xiao Chunsheng is a total busybody, which means he can easily cause offence."

When he first read the script, Xiao Zhan was pretty worried about this and felt that it would be hard to make Xiao Chunsheng likable. But after his initial hesitation, it occurred to him that what we need might well be hidden within the traits we mind to the most.

"Vivid", that's how Xiao Zhan describes Xiao Chunsheng and others of his generation. "Unabashed about what they can't stand, what they like. Don't you think they're especially vivid in all their colours and shades?" he asked. Even now, when he thinks of some of the scenes in Where Dreams Begins, the characters still have a vibrant, brilliant glow to them.

Playing Xiao Chunsheng, whose values were some distance from those of today, was rewarding for Xiao Zhan in another way: he learned not to be afraid of making mistakes. He says, "a truly likable character isn't perfect."

During filming he asked the director whether a busybody like Xiao Chunsheng would come across as really annoying. The director told him that this annoying tendency is what makes Xiao Chunsheng, and what makes him an appealing character.

The director's words made Xiao Zhan recognise the trap of wanting to avoid or correct imperfections in his characters. "When you do this, you rob the character of their appeal," Xiao Zhan says, "So I think when getting to know a character there's no need to be afraid, if they're over-enthusiastic then let them be, if they're a boundary-pusher then go with that. If you get stuck on a character's flaws and what might happen when the audience bashes you for it, that makes it impossible to do the job." Because an actor should be playing a character, not an assigned persona.

Not being afraid of flaws can also mean the courage and ability to seek challenges. Sunshine By My Side was Xiao Zhan's first time performing in an urban profession drama. The reason he took this role was simple: modern dramas are very close to reality, since they're about everyday life. That actually makes it harder to deliver a believable performance. Because he had no assurance of success, he became convinced that if he could do it, it would be a valuable learning experience. That's how Sheng Yang came to be.

In filming Sunshine By My Side, Xiao Zhan learned that urban dramas are really reliant on how well the actors work together. Because they're more down to earth, nothing is set in stone, and both dialogue and performances are subject to adjustment.

"We're all living beings, we don't exist to maintain some persona. What we do, what we say, the emotions we express, it's all natural, logical, fluid. If you change something, my performance will change to match," Xiao Zhan says. This creative coupling meant that the actors could not be pedantic and mechanical, so it became a new and fun experience.

Whether modern or costume, Xiao Zhan has always had a clear-headed perspective on choosing scripts and characters. "Quality is always rare. That's why everyone says you can't look for it, it finds you," he says, based on what he's observed in the last while. "Some scripts, the industry might view them highly, but when the show airs the market response might not be that positive. How are we defining 'good'? Is it popularity, or acclaim? It's hard to say."

So all he can do is fall back on his own understanding and instincts, to choose what he thinks is best. As for what he wants to try, Xiao Zhan says, "I've been saying it for years, a lovable and charming rogue*, if there is an opportunity."

*["lovable and charming rogue" is a Chinese internet meme, originating from a line spoken by Tojiro/James of Team Rocket when introducing himself in the Pokemon anime.]

Xiao Zhan says he's a homebody. If he has free time, other than resting, he'll work out or watch a movie. He's never seen watching movies as a chore and will watch anything regardless of genre, whether it's a blockbuster or arthouse film. Recently, he watched Anatomy of a Fall which won the Palme d'Or at the 2023 Cannes Film Festival.

He often rewatches Love Actually around new year's, about once every three years or so. The reason is simple - the familial and romantic love and friendships are wonderful and heart-warming.

As for his hopes for himself, Xiao Zhan had an even simpler answer: "I did a pretty good job in 2023. Hopefully I can keep that up." After a bit more thought, he added: "in 2024, I'd like to love myself a bit more, and give more space to my own feelings and thoughts. That's not only my own resolution - that's my hope for everyone else too."

For Xiao Zhan, the "him" on screen is distinct from his own life. In private, he doesn't spend a lot of time dolling himself up, or wear any spectacular, eye-catching clothes. In everything he reaches toward what is natural and truthful.

"Like for our conversation, just maintaining this kind of comfortable state. I'm not going to put on another face, play another person," Xiao Zhan says. "That would be exhausting. Exhausting." He says it twice.

Like the poet wrote, "my heart may encompass the entire universe." Outside Xiao Zhan's boundaries, there's the delineation of borders, and the wide expanse of the universe.

[riddle-me-ri]

"I never believed in love at first sight, but now I've looked at you and my perspective has definitely changed." for Farrell!Penguin?

a/n: ohhh this fits so well with him! He's definitely the type to be turned into a believer with the right person hehe I haven’t written for this pengy solo in a minute I hope this is still a decent fic rip

Trigger Warning: none

Word Count: 1k

Reevesverse/Farrell Penguin x Reader - Love at First Sight

It may seem difficult to believe…difficult to comprehend to most.

Despite Falcone finally being out of the picture, having full control of not just the Iceberg Lounge but also 44 Below and the booming Drops business that came with it…

Despite now having absolute control of Gotham's underworld. 

Oswald Cobblepot never felt more alone. 

Which, he figured, was for the best, no loose ends…no weaknesses. 

Besides if he ever got too lonely to bear it he could just bring up a couple of Iceberg girls if need be.

That was until…he saw you. 

Oswald wasn't the type to turn down anyone willing to work at the Iceberg Lounge (and see if they can take the "promotion" to 44 Below) but something came over him that night.

"Look, sweetheart, I understand, money's tight but this just isn't-"

"Please…don't…don't give me that…'this isn't the place for me' schtick. It's Gotham and I'm alive aren't I?" You defended.

Oz leaned back in his cushioned office chair and offered a side nod. "Touche…but my answer is still no. There's plenty of other bars and clubs where you can work." 

"But none that pay as high." 

"High reward comes with high risk, sweetheart and I don't want you taking that risk." 

You huffed frustratedly as you brought your hands to your hips. "And who are you to determine that?" 

Oz sighed as he rubbed his face, leaving his hand to linger on his chin in thought.

It's a gamble, but maybe just maybe if he was honest for once he could prevent you from getting hurt later…

For all the hurt, betrayal, and desperation Oswald had experienced in his life…he still found out somewhere what love was. Even if he learned it by knowing what it wasn't.

He barely knew your name but he couldn't ignore the strong thumping of his weary heart when he first saw you. When your eyes met his…it's like he could see the future..two possible futures. 

One where he's loved unconditionally with you by his side as he continues to rule or…one with him on his knees grasping onto your cold lifeless body begging for you to come back. 

He disliked the latter vision to not even try and seek out the first. 

"To you? I'm nobody, just an employer. But lemme ask you something."

You perked your eyebrow and nodded for him to continue. 

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" 

Your eyes widened. Your mouth opened and closed as your brain tried to make sense of the question and what it could possibly mean in this context. 

You settled on just answering the question honestly in hopes of an explanation. "No…not..particularly…why?" 

Oz hummed in understanding. "Cause I sure as hell don't. Or at least I didn't."

He took your silence as an invitation to continue. "I never believed in love at first sight, but now I've looked at you…and well…my perspective has definitely changed." 

You guffawed. "M-Mr. Cobblepot…you…you can't. I don't like to be made fun of-" 

"I'm not kidding, you see me laughing? I don't want anything happening to you." 

"You don't know me…"

"You're right, but I know this feeling, if you can believe an old bastard like me can know…and as much as I'd love to know you…I don't want to take the risk."

"Because you think you love me? You care about me?" 

He lifted his index finger. "I don't think… I know."

"Mr. Cobblepot-I…I.." You try to find something to say but wind up just choking up on rapid intakes of air. 

There is a beat of silence in the room. 

You think about turning around and leaving. You were clearly being made a fool of…right? 

You've heard rumors that The Penguin was eccentric (I mean…he's dubbed the Penguin) but you weren't expecting this at all. 

Plus as much as you wanted to believe he was messing with you to get you to leave…you still didn't want to. There was a small part of you that genuinely believed what he said and wanted to stick around to find out. 

"Just give me a chance…"

"What's that?"

"Six months…tops. If I don't impress you-you can fire me or I can make a choice that this is or isn't the place for me…" 

You offered out your hand. "Deal?" 

Oz sighed exhaustedly. You were both gorgeous and determined…oof he was in trouble.

Nevertheless, he leaned forward in his chair, and clasped his wide calloused hand in yours. 

Six months…turned into six years and counting

Oswald Cobblepot, The Penguin still reigned Supreme of Gotham City's criminal underbelly. Often having to work with the Bat or the Bat throwing him away to Blackgate a handful of times….

But you were still there. By his side every step of the way. While you didn't exactly fall in love with him at first sight, you did gradually grow to love him. 

You were sitting on his lap one late evening mulling over some papers on his desk when you giggled. 

"Whatcha giggling about?" Oz tightened his arm that was around your waist that pulled you closer to him.

"The first day we met…and what you told me that day…" 

Oz thought about it for a moment and he chuckled. "Told ya I wasn't lying, it was love at first sight, sweetheart." 

"And I told you I was cut out for this line of work." You nudged his side with your shoulder. 

Oz chuckled warmly. "I guess we both proved each other wrong, huh?" 

You smiled at him as you leaned in to kiss his lips. "I guess so…in the best way." 

"Ya got that right, honey." Oswald chased your lips once more until they were reunited again. 

Even though Oswald is Gotham City’s kingpin of the criminal underworld. Even though he is twice as the boss Falcone or Maroni ever was…

The Penguin is more powerful than ever because he finally had someone to share it all with. 

The Penguin was finally not alone anymore. 

[box-dwelling]

Magical turnabout is legitimately great and I'm gonna be honest, from a murder mystery standpoint, might be one of the best cases full stop. There's more aspects to what makes a good AA case than just the mystery in my mind so it's not gonna beat out Farewell my turnabout or anything as my favourite case but in that aspect it is immaculate. Every conclusion felt reasonable. Every piece of evidence added up, even ignoring the stuff that ends up in the court record. (Mr hats capes? Ugh so good) It rewards knowledge of the subject matter. If you know how certain tricks are performed you have an edge on solving it. I know how teleportation tricks are normally performed so that coming into the case made perfect sense. And it manages all this despite being technically very convoluted. Sure the killer was maybe a bit obvious but this is also AA and that's kind of always a thing but they put the mystery far more on figuring out how it happened not who did it which is smart for a series where at this point you kinda know the drill for the killers. Great case. Very much like Farewell in that it's an excellent case preceded by one of the worst in the series

This being said I did not give Trucy the fucking notebook at the end. FUCK that. She does not need to define herself by her shitty bio family. I have her the tape of her own performance because that's what she should be defining herself by.

[randomboo256]

BotW and TotK, Revisited

So it's Tears of the Kingdom's anniversary already.

I ended up replaying the game a few months ago. I'm not sure if I've ever played a game so rife with good ideas and great potential that failed so hard to take advantage of any of it.

This will be long, please stay with me.

Before we talk about TotK, we need to talk about it's predecessor: Breath of the Wild.

I played this game when it came out, and for what it's worth I thought it was decently fun. However it lacks a lot of the design that made previous games work. Before you ask, no I'm not nostalgia blind. I played the entire Zelda series for the first time in 2016, and I played BotW just a year later. If anything, I'm just as nostalgic for old Zelda as I am for BotW itself. This is just an honest critique of the game's design.

BotW is a game that felt like a rough draft of what a modernized 3D Zelda game could be. The idea of making the world larger, more open, and more inspired by the 2D games is a brilliant one. The execution however felt less like 2D Zelda and more like every other open world game.

What BotW mainly suffered from was bloat. The world was too large and less rewarding. Your main reward for exploring a Zelda game are new items and heart pieces. When you relegate all of those to copy/paste shrines, you're removing the main incentive to actually engage with the world.

In old Zelda, you had no idea what you could find! Any random chest could have a heart piece or even a brand new item. Any sidequest could give you an awesome reward. That's what made it so much fun and so compelling to do everything you can! Old Zelda also loved to show you something you wanted, without telling you how to get it. Often you'd have to come back WAY later. It makes you remember that location, and when you can grab it it's so satisfying. Metroidvanias are like entirely built on this principle.

However, BotW's map is simply too large to be constantly engaging like this. The devs can't ensure you'll find the upgrades, important NPCs, and discoveries without just telling you. In old Zelda, the devs can naturally guide you to all of that with level design. To remedy this, BotW tries to give you items and upgrades constantly, but they do so in a way to make sure that it makes no difference if you missed them. That's how we get things like interchangeable swords that break instead a permanent sword upgrades (I'll get back to that).

It doesn't help that BotW pushed it's nonlinearity too hard. It wanted to make everything in the game accessible immediately as well as completely skippable, which ruins most sense of player progress as well as obliterating any form of a difficulty curve. BotW never has that "Oh, I can get that now!" moment. You know, I actually don't mind the weapon system in concept. I love resource management in games. The problem is that enemies are optional, and killing them is rarely ever worth the swords you broke. Other games with resource management don't allow to just effortlessly ignore every enemy. The worst part of BotW's over-nonlinearity is the dungeons. Dungeons have always been the heart of this series, even in the original game. In BotW, they were simplified down to "do these 5 points in any order" and it's just really boring and underwhelming.

On top of all of this, I haven't mentioned the stamina system, which quite literally just exists to waste your fucking time. By stripping out so much of Zelda's game design in favor of interchangeable everything, it just all adds up to a game that's very repetitive, often boring, and not as satisfying to play as the older titles. If BotW had a map half the size, it could let Nintendo actually pack it to the brim with something interesting and engaging to find in every step you take. Combine that with a return of the old item/heart piece system and a bit of linearity, and it could be great. The happy medium between old and new Zelda is basically just giving the game a more Metroidvania-esc game design logic, as I alluded to earlier. It's a simple fix, but I think it would make everyone happy.

However, TotK took a different route....

Finally, the topic of the today's post. I played Tears of the Kingdom right around launch, and again for what's worth I thought it too was decently fun. However while I could be a little forgiving of BotW for its various missteps, this game doubled down on all of BotW's worst issues.

Instead of removing bloat, TotK TRIPLED it. We have a mostly empty and boring sky and a mostly boring and empty depths. What's left is the shamelessly reused map from BotW. So now everything in the game is either something you've already seen or something you don't care about. This choice is baffling, to be frank. Of all Zelda games, BotW especially is all about exploring the map.

Like, it literally didn't have anything else!!! Why would I want to explore this map again?!!! I've seen it already!!! There wasn't that much there the first time!!!

cough cough

Getting back ahold of myself....

TotK's main excuse to explore the map is the introduction of caves (which somehow weren't in BotW). Caves certainly add a ton of life to the world design, but we still run into a problem of them too getting very stale by the end. On top of that, they removed any challenge in the physical effort of exploring the world. While the stamina system in BotW mostly sucks, it's main strength is that you can't just climb to the top of every mountain. You gotta look around and be a bit more clever. In TotK, towers alone shoot you up a million feet, so you can just glide everywhere. It's faster, I guess, but what's the point of having world map if it's smarter to just fly over it? It's like they knew that exploring again would be boring so they just let you skip over it.

Well exploration is mostly a bust, but what else changed?

Well to start out positive, I adore the weapon fusing system. I already enjoy resource management, so adding whole fusing layer on top of it is super fun. However, I still rarely have a reason to actually fight. By far the most fun part of TotK were the Proving Ground shrines. When I walk into one of these shrines, it's like the game comes to life with so much fun and energy. It's like I'm teleported to a world where the combat clicks and is insanely fun and in-depth. It's funny, because all those shrines did was limit my weapons, limit my healing, make enemies more punishing, and forced me to actually beat them.

WHY WASN'T THE WHOLE GAME DESIGNED LIKE THIS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Well we know why. By making the enemies unrelenting, the weapons and healing limited, and forcing you to fight, the game is limiting what you're capable of. Working around and with limitations are the core of what makes, not just video games, ALL games fun. However, the modern Zelda games are so allergic to the idea of limitations in general that they're sabotaging their own carefully designed combat system at pretty much all times. The only way to enjoy it is for the player to decide to place the limit themself, which is a lot to ask of us.

Outside the upgraded combat system, the main difference between BotW and TotK is a new move called Ultrahand, which strangely a reference to an old Nintendo toy. Ultrahand "functions" by letting you grab any physics object, twist it around, and then stick it to other physics objects. If you're thinking "that just sounds like the fucking Psychics Gun from Garry's Mod", then correct! The only difference is that the Physgun actually works properly. For what it's worth, it's pretty impressive technology, however that doesn't mean much when it's not actually fun to play. Moving an object around with Ultrahand feels extremely stiff and awkward. As for the glueing aspect, it's even worse. With the controls alone it's hard to make anything, but what's worse is that you can't detach one item at a time. If you glue one thing on wrong, shaking it loose will probably make it all fall apart. As you might imagine from a system where any two things can be glued in any way, it's all extremely fucking janky.

When the game's systems for Ultrahand are properly flowing and working properly, it can be pretty fun, but for every "pretty fun" Ultrahand moment, there's a thousand annoying moments.

In a way, Ultrahand is basically just an upgraded and reskinned Magnesis, a move from BotW. Magnesis also barely worked, but it wasn't used nearly as much. Ultrahand meanwhile is literally the entire game. I'm not exaggerating. Pretty much every puzzle and a majority of side missions are about Ultrahand. Ultrahand is this game's gimmick. You know, like how Ocarina of Time's gimmick was time periods, Majora's Mask's was a time loop, Wind Waker's was the ocean, Twilight Princess was the wolf, Skyward Sword's was motion controls, and Breath of the Wild's was extreme nonlinearity. Tears of the Kingdom's gimmick is Ultrahand, and wow holy shit is it the worst 3D Zelda gimmick so far.

Honestly what sucks is that Ultrahand could've been a lot better. On occasion, they do have some really fun puzzles with it. However, because these modern Zelda games don't have difficulty curves, the Ultrahand puzzles won't get more challenging over time. The majority are just too easy, and I'm spending more time thinking about how awful the controls are at doing what I want.

As for the dungeons, well don't get your hopes up. They're identical to BotW, except now with Ultrahand gimmicks! Well, that's not totally true. They do have two big changes. Firstly, every dungeon has a long linear segment leading up to it. These sections are genuinely great, and they feel more like Zelda dungeons than the actual dungeons. However they are just short preludes to the lackluster main event. As for the other change, this game reintroduces companions.

Companions are classic aspect of Zelda that BotW sorely missed. They're usually small and out of the way. They exist for three important reasons: For one, player guidance. They'll occasionally chime in with hints on where to go and what to do. For two, they add worldbuilding. You can freely talk to them and sometimes you can learn some interesting details from them. For three, they give Link a voice. Link is barely a character, so having another character follow him around and speak for him in cutscenes is a great way to remedy that. Of course, they could just... let Link talk but HEY HEY let's not get too crazy.

Unfortunately TotK once again dropped the ball on this. This game has four companions that you unlock over the story, and they're not small. They're full human sized NPCs that constantly follow you around and get in your way. Now honestly, I could forgive that. I love Final Fantasy VII Remake, and those games have that issue. I don't really care that my party members get in my way in those games, because they're great characters and they're constantly chiming in with fun dialogue. However TotK somehow didn't think to do that. Your "party" never chimes in at any point. Neither in gameplay OR cutscenes. What a huge missed opportunity! They're just lifeless robots that follow you around.

You might be thinking, "I thought the whole point of Zelda companions was that they'd talk. If they don't talk in TotK, what do they do?" and that's a good question hypothetical-person-I-made-up. For one, they fight in combat with you. That sounds fun, but you can't control them at all. They're completely AI. For two, each one has a special move you can use by walking up to them and pressing A. This means they essentially act like a dungeon item. That's a huge improvement for the quality of the dungeons. But remember, they get in the way constantly. Combine that with the strange controls, and you will be constantly setting off your partners without wanting to. Did nobody playtest this???

Giving Link party members is a fucking amazing idea, but they botched the execution of this so hard that most people just turn the party members off. What a waste of an idea. I hope they revisit this concept. I'll be really sad if they don't.

So all in all, Tears of the Kingdom is a really upsetting video game to me. It didn't do the one thing I was hoping, and that was "make a version of Breath of the Wild that took more advantage of it's concept".

On top of that, it kept piling on new great ideas that they also fucked up. Like adding caves, sky islands, and depths to an open world Zelda. Yes! Great idea! However, they were really fucking boring and repetitive. They gave the game an amazing combat system, and then punished you for using it. They gave the game a complicated physics puzzle gimmick, but it was really fucking janky and overused. The added fun build ups to dungeons, but still skimped out on making the actual dungeon part. They gave Link party members, but they're boring and get in your way.

When I look at Tears of the Kingdom, all I can see is the insane amount of missed potential this game had. They could've done so much. They TRIED to do so much. But they didn't do any well at any of them! I can't help but think this all just comes down to a case of some extreme overambition. They tried to do so many things, on top of having an insanely large open world. BotW's map was way too big. TotK's map is insanely oversized. That's why my number one prayer for the next Zelda is that they SCALE THIS SHIT DOWN!!

Overall, Tears of the Kingdom isn't a bad game. When it works, it works very well. However it works so occasionally that I really wish Nintendo stops doing this new modern formula. It seems like Nintendo just doesn't know how to improve upon BotW. With TotK, they just figured "Well if we take BotW and just shove more shit into it, it'd be good right?". Well, it's not good. It's fucking mid.

As for what I want Nintendo to do instead? Well I hope that the next Zelda is just something that's radically new. You might not have expected me to say that, huh? Well honestly, I don't really care if old Zelda ever returns. If it ever did, I'd be happy for sure, but it's not like those old games are perfect either. The reason we're even in this mess is because Skyward Sword was so hated that Nintendo backpedalled so hard in the opposite direction that they fell off a cliff.

At this point, all I want is a new Zelda game that I can love again, and these modern ones just aren't it.

[scalingsilverlinings]

Go watch a movie

This one turned out really nice - Eden Ness Court and I had a little girls movie night and we went to watch Past Lives at Govindas. I fucked up the pricing so it was $48 so a bit expensive but it was still a good experience. The vegetarian buffet was very nice and all of the food had good flavour and was filling and yummy. I liked the fried cauliflower pakoras best and they had lots of filling things like quinoa and potato and Dahl which I drank in a bowl like soup accidentally instead of dipping my bread in.

The cinema was a lot cosier and cuter than I expected, they had little pillows and bed like recliners. There were no ads too so the movie was over by 08:45 which was perfect. The movie itself was very cute, it wasn’t as sad as Ness said it would be because I felt as if she made the right life choice and I am not sure if they would have made a good couple in the long run anyway, it was just what could have been. Although they clearly had chemistry it would have hurt more if she immigrated later than like when they were 12. It felt very similar to how I felt when I read Normal People, it was a bit too real and therefore uncomfortable and I’m not sure if I liked that feeling.

After we had a little Messina because they’re doing a lemon meringue flavour which is excellent at the moment but it wasn’t quite as good as my memory the second time around.

I’m not sure what is next but this was a very nice little evening and I’m glad that I set up and enacted this goal and that it was a bit of a more special memory than just going to the theatres. Ness Eden and Court are all just very lovely wholesome people and so it was cute to all hang out.

Tomorrow I think I should set some goals so I don’t end up just following people around all day and eating brunch for half the day to be honest. I also really badly need to do Rouble’s litter, shower, clean my sheets, washing and fuel my car so it will be an odd job day as well. It has been hard with all of the assignments but I have been still managing to get into the swing of doing things. I’m starting to be stressed about jobs just in the back of my mind i can sense it. Aiming to continue to do small things for myself so I can live a happy life is difficult but I think I can feel the difference so far and it’s rewarding.

[zoniamaciolek]

CAS update – month 6 – April 2024

week 1 – service: 3,5h of helping candidates during admissions in 2SLO

week 2, 3 and 4 – service: 1,5h of tutoring sessions at Ocalenie Foundation

Reflections:

In April I focused mostly on Service. At the beginning of the month the student that I am tutoring was sick, however, I still managed to do some CA(S) because there were admissions at our school. Our job as students was to guide candidates to the classrooms where the oral exams took place, offer them water and overall help them relax. It was a really interesting experience because I can very well recall how stressed I felt before my admission exams and I definitely would have appreciated if there were some students telling me where to go and reaffirming me that I’m at the right place. Therefore, I felt quite helpful in the role of someone like that; however, it wasn’t easy. Chatting with eight-graders I haven’t met before is not a skill that I’m particularly good at, so at times it was really awkward. We couldn’t really relate to each other so the conversations felt forced, but after a while we settled on a few topics, which seemed interesting to the candidates. We told them about our experiences when going through the admissions process and described life at 2SLO to them. Some students were more chatty than the others, so we tried to adjust to the level of interaction that the candidate was most comfortable with. Overall, it was a very pleasant experience, which also made me feel a sense of community at our school. Throughout the rest of April, I had tutoring sessions with a second-grade student from Chechenia. We mostly studied the multiplication table because he doesn’t remember it well enough yet to do textbook exercises. I tried to turn it into a game, for example, I made a game of memory to help him remember the equations, however, he just kept opening all the cards at the same and asking me if the two matched. I noticed that after a few sessions, he started to feel more comfortable around me and, therefore, started to be more honest with me. It’s quite a difficult position to be in, when you have to convince a kid that studying math for an hour and a half is the most interesting thing he could be doing when he asks how much time is left until the end of the session every 10 minutes. However, being a tutor can also be very rewarding. For example, after a few sessions I finally managed to find the most effective memorisation method for my student. I just keep giving him the same example over and over again until he memorises it and then we add another one and keep going until it is so easy for him that he gets bored. On the last session, he managed to remember 12 different examples (such as 6x8, 3x7), which is an amazing achievement. I’m really hoping that soon he will able to recall the entire multiplication table up to 10x10 from the top of his head.  

Link to my CAS progress table:

https://1drv.ms/x/s!ArOAd-zF8YuhliR3UntpXqQmuxUC

Photos and screenshots for evidence:

[iceddecafcaramel]

Hi.

I’m super high right now and I just wanted to share this thought with you. I feel like I’ll keep wondering how you would’ve reacted if I didn’t. I would have never thought that I would reach out to you this soon but I feel like I don’t take enough risks in life and this could be the one that starts the trend. They do say high risk, high reward. Besides, because I’m stoned, I feel arrogant like I want to be able to prove to myself that being brave is worth it and teach me that it is good practice for me to start choosing to be open to trying new things and trust more when I’m sober. Reaching out to you really scares me and my ego really doesn’t want me to do it but what if those are the things that are holding me back from being more authentic and confident? I mostly confront people when the topic benefits those I care about, especially because I have a sense of protectiveness over my friends. I never do anything for the pure intention of making myself happy without asking for others’ approval first, because to be completely honest with you, I don’t think I’m worth it and I always second guess the choices I make for myself. But I want to change that. So I’m saying fuck it, and I’m taking this chance and hoping it’s worth it. And if not, that’s okay. I’ll learn the hard way that some risks are worth taking and some aren’t. But at least I can say that I tried, and I won’t keep wondering about what would happen if I told you these thoughts.

You’ve started to become a part of my daily routine. Every morning, I used to wake up to hoping that you had texted me. I would get so excited when you told me on the phone that you’re able to fit me in to your schedule. It’s like I couldn’t wait to see you. Or the time I called a friend and asked if my outfit was hot because I wanted you to like me, even just through appearances. I wish that I wasn’t too far off from your preferences and that I could have had a chance to try to adapt to it. I know you don’t want me to change for anyone else but what if I wanted to, because I thought that following them would make me a better person? When you were talking about how you felt like I was being judgmental, I noticed that I should also be careful not to do that when I’m in a similar situation when I’m with those I care about because I don’t want to sound judgmental to them. In all the times that I’ve applied your feedback, I think that it made me a slightly better person each time, and I wish that you would’ve let ME decide if that idea that you talked about yesterday would benefit and improve me as a person. I wouldn’t have changed myself if I didnt think it was good for me. I’m tired of making changes for people that have malicious intentions, and you’re not one of them.

I do also think that while knowing what you’re looking for and being as selective as you are is good, I’m not sure if it’s possible for everyone to find that one person who is 100% perfect for them and checks all of the right boxes. Relationships are never perfect and I believe that it requires compromise from both ends. I never expected or wanted you to be changing for me or anyone for that matter, but I see it as a way to improve myself. For example, why would I want to stay judgmental when one of the few qualities that I’m proud of myself is the way I care for others? I personally thought that the preferences you mentioned were minor things, but I understand if they are intolerable for you and that you put them at the top of your list of dealbreakers. Or, I understand if there are more red flags or preferences that you have about me that you’d prefer not to tell me.

I know this sounds like a desperate attempt to get you back but I think that you’re worth fighting for, and if for whatever reason, it makes you consider changing your mind, I’ll try it once.

[studioahead]

Artist Spotlight: David Wilson

What kept popping up in our conversation with Oakland-based artist David Wilson was ways of seeing: landscapes, futures, memory. His watercolor series Facing the Other Way is a poetic rendering of the familiar (Mount Tam) made unfamiliar—and we encourage everyone with a love of Marin to spend some time with this remarkable piece and David’s equally remarkable comments (below) about how memory constructs these places we think we know so well.

If all of that is a little too conceptual for you, just know we met David at a dance party and that his art and artistic outlook is just as fun and wild as his DJ sets. To say nothing of the mind-meld that was "The Possible," about which: "I think my brain is just about healed, perhaps it’s time to try it again?"

Studio AHEAD: Hi, David! We want to start with a recent show of yours, “Framings.” It featured a large-scale drawing made of smaller drawings, all from the hillside of Wildcat Canyon, that you did daily over the course of several weeks. Tell us a little bit about this project, and maybe the role the parts play in the whole.

David Wilson: Hi! Yes, over the years of slowing growing into my drawing and painting practice, I’ve found it most rewarding to center the physical experience of sitting in the landscape drawing in direct observation, and to try to separate myself, as best I can, from the final results of what the image becomes. The way I do it, as you’ve noted, is by immersing myself in the parts, working on isolated daily pages that I carry out with me, continuing each day’s sitting with a new blank page picking up on the memory of where I left off.

So the piece you mentioned, Facing the Other Way, is a watercolor score of 33 pages, recording 33 days, all made while sitting at the same perch in Wildcat Canyon, gridded together in the end to form a more expansive view looking out towards the Bay and Mount Tam in the distance. The individual pages can stand alone, and I like to resolve each piece to itself as I work, with the particular character of light and weather and focus evidenced page to page. Sometimes this is obvious, like a day when I paint in the rain and the paper is a softly washed space, but usually it is more subtle. These conditions are in the environmental space but also in the mental space, so each day the external and internal are interacting to bring out whatever marks get marked. So these bigger works, containing lots of parts, share a movement across what I’m seeing and also how I’m seeing. I like that there is a tension between continuity and individuality, it feels honest to what it’s like each day; we shift, things shift, we respond as best we can and find paths forward to make some sense.

This particular spot in Wildcat Canyon is significant for me, it’s a place that I have wandered and drawn many times over the years, making some of my first durational works, learning about myself and what I hope to fulfill in making art. So returning to it in making this piece has an even bigger episodic arc of parts. Walking out over and over, both in the particular season of this painting, but also over all these years, has become a loving, devotional act. I believe it’s how a relationship to a place, or a person, becomes more meaningful. As you continue to choose it, you know it more deeply, it becomes more dear. 

Studio AHEAD: Does memory relate to how you imagine landscape? How do you map environments in your mind?

David Wilson: It’s funny, I have always felt extremely un-imaginative when it comes to drawing and painting. The mental image of things is not where I go. For me, seeing is the thing, opening up as clear a channel as I can between my eye and my hand. My favorite marks are ones that are specific because they are a strong response to seeing, those are the ones that can surprise me, and make me happy. The clearer the response, the more purposeful the mark, the more satisfying the result.

I think that’s why I don’t have a studio practice, when I’m home, inside, I don’t know what to make. I have to go out and find some space to work from, that’s what turns it all on. When my kids get excited and ask me to draw things, like a plane or a dog, I draw some really not good things! They look at me like, don’t you draw for your work? 

So I don’t feel like I hold a strong mental image, but I do feel like I have a strong grasp on memory as it relates to seeing. I look hard as I sit and take in a landscape, and then drawing sharpens my attention to all those shapes and forms interacting. So by the time I have spent a day looking, I really remember details that help me pick up when I return for a following sitting. I like to end each session picking one little point in these vast landscapes, and staring at it hard so that I can find it again, even if it’s just one particular tree or gap. So I work hard to hold a particular link, but from there, once I start again, I like letting go and getting into the new day’s space, since again, ideally I’m not misplacing my focus on the finish of the piece, just giving myself some structure and purpose to the sequence of days that leads me to larger work. 

When I start a new piece, I always start in the middle, beginning with what feels like the center of a landscape. It helps me find the scale more naturally than if I tried to begin with an edge and work in based on an idea about the overall composition. There is something about how my brain works that lets me keep things in order, and maintain some relative scale, but I don’t have a clear mental map that I work off of, it’s a little more of a funky process that goes on in there. I think it’s a Virgo thing.

Studio AHEAD: What is your relation to California? How did you come to be here?

David Wilson: I am an east coast person in origin; I grew up in a suburban town near Worcester, MA. My family kept pretty tight orbits around the northeast, we would mostly just go to Queens to visit my grandparents, Cape Cod to go to the beach, and maybe Vermont or New Hampshire to see some trees and a mountain. But mostly we just stayed put. So when a friend from college tossed out her vision of moving to Oakland I was curious to know what that could even be. I had a pretty enchanting first visit, complete with East Bay hills walks, a noise show at the Oakland warehouse called Lobot, the hike down from Mount Tam to Stinson Beach and back up again, a cute house party, and many burritos, as one does. I felt like I could get right in the mix, and so I moved, and I did.  

For me, California is landscape, and it is community, which are the two things that I love most. To move between solitary experiences in big nature and highly connective experiences with people who are excited to be generative is a wonderful mixture. There continue to be days when I find myself way up on a hill, alone, or with a treasured friend, sandwiched between city doings, and I think how lucky it is to live with such a balance.

Studio AHEAD: “California is landscape, and it is community” is our shared mantra! Speaking of community, you received a lot of press for “The Possible” exhibition at BAMPFA. We like how it breaks down the artist/viewer dichotomy by involving the audience, and of course there is an aspect of community building to it as well. What does “The Possible” show is possible? What was impossible about it?

David Wilson: Thanks for the question, it’s always nice to revisit “The Possible,” it was one of those peak life building–and exploding–projects that I will always be unpacking, and hopefully, given the right moment and situation, will get the chance to reenact. For those unfamiliar, “The Possible” was an exhibition that I curated at BAMPFA in 2014 with the support of former director Larry Rinder [whom we interviewed here —SA] . Rather than a traditional presentation of work, the exhibition was a vehicle and a platform that transformed the museum into an experimental school, residency, gathering ground, performance site, and public commons. It was in part inspired by the fact that the museum was about to move out of its inspiring former 1970 Mario Ciampi building, so there was a sense of permission to use the building itself in ways that were formerly not deemed “possible” due to the standard museum protocols around registration, insurance, and just general caution.  

The show was very much alive, which I loved, growing and changing everyday, involving new ideas and people with each step, unfolding itself beyond what I could have imagined just myself. The initial group of roughly 100 artists and contributors that I got involved over the course of a year of preparation quickly swelled to twice that as invitations passed further along, and that’s even before the public got swept up in it. There were teams of artists designing, facilitating, and programming studio-type spaces, a ceramics studio, a textile and dye lab, a print shop, a sound recording studio, an experimental video and performance space, a library, and of course, an outdoor shower, among other things. Each of these platforms and resources were made available to invited guests during the week, and were fully open on weekends to the public. 

Artists often contributed their ideas to the show itself, which was unique, applying their practice to the common shape or need of the whole. For example, one of my primary collaborators on the exhibition, the artist Alexander Kori Girard, designed a giant platform that was a multi-tiered pinwheel display sculpture, which began the show elegantly empty and then we would install works and ephemera from various happenings every week, so that by the end it was fully tangled in its collection of the show. 

“The Possible” was like a festival in that every day for five months something was happening, some things planned but most things unexpectedly unleashed. I like to describe the format of the show as a vessel, like a giant amphora, that was sculpted to hold as much as possible, ideas and people; in the beginning it was empty, and it just kept filling and filling with everyone involved and the public use. The vessel held up pretty well, though I did feel at times like I had fingers plugging holes just barely keeping it from bursting.

I think the show’s most dominant message of possibility was the powerful opportunity of collaboration and cross pollination.  People were intersecting their practices, sharing and supporting each other in trying new things; and I believe this forged meaningful new ideas and relationships that have lasted well beyond the time of the show. 

Much of the question of what is possible sometimes felt like a question of “what is possible within institutions,” since the show itself is not that radical a format when compared to artist-run spaces. But the scale was perhaps what made this radical, and to stretch an institution in a direction that was un-defined, or not preemptively defined, but purposefully open. It’s a little like how I was describing my drawing practice now that I’m describing it again here…trying to design a format that is rigorous enough to trust so that you can let things just happen. 

What was not possible was probably in the sustainability of such a thing. I think a lot of power that drives people into such a spirit heavy, and kind of absurd, communal project like this is the sense of its finite nature. With that all-in spirit came a major force of camaraderie, but there was definitely burn out, and in some cases, darker relationship fall out. I know that for myself, I placed an unrealistic load on my brain to hold things together, and I implicated myself in too many collaborations that didn’t always serve the collaboration or best support the collaborator. So I learned a lot about my capacity, and how I over relied on my capacity to get things done, rather than to take more time to better define certain aspects of relationships, responsibilities, and processes. But it wouldn't have been “The Possible” without a kind of ‘fuck it, let’s go’ attitude. I was just reflecting with artist Drew Bennett, who contributed the outdoor shower zone, on how we are coming up on the ten-year anniversary, I think my brain is just about healed, perhaps it’s time to try it again?

Studio AHEAD: I want to end at the beginning: when we first met at the Truffle Man opening, where you were DJing. Do you view dance parties as an extension of your curatorial work?

David Wilson: I certainly do! Though I like to think of my curatorial work and my work as an artist as pleasantly blurred. At one point during “The Possible,” Larry Rinder asked if I considered the show an exhibition or an artwork, which hit on a nice note for me to think about. So yes, as an artist, organizing gatherings has always been central to what I want to make and what I want to contribute to this place. In the past, I have had more time and energy to explore all the many forms of gatherings and playful reasons to bring people together, but as I have gotten older and operate with perhaps a more streamlined set of needs for my time, I’ve honed in what feels like a truly essential reason to come together, which is dancing. I like to shake it out, and I like to see people shaking it out together.  

For me, finding special spaces that bring sparks to the gathering continues to be a big inspiration, letting the environment and the situation be a major character in how we feel being brought together. So most of the dance parties I have helped organize follow that thread, where the place comes first. As you said, we connected at a chocolate factory, dancing in a courtyard in West Oakland. That was a nice one!

I started DJing when I was around twenty, always with the intent to get people dancing. As a kid, from around second grade and on through high school, I was a big mix tape maker. I loved planning it out on paper, getting the construction and movement of songs just right. I would make these cassettes seasonally, I still have that collection actually. So DJing is that same instinct played out in real time, responding to a crowd, constructing a movement of songs, which if done well enough, builds heat on the dance floor and takes people on a little boogie journey. Planning parties, DJing, all these layers to tune into in teasing out the right mixture of a situation, makes me think of your first question about the parts and the whole, microcosms of small choices contained within a whole situation, which in the end releases it from your hands. I guess I like to set things up to see what happens.

Photos by Ekaterina Izmestieva

[dduane]

i’ve always thought it was really cool how honest you are on this website. i think a lot of the time when writers become established or well known, people who aren’t professional writers, or perhaps are writers but have not published anything or amassed a following tend to think that there’s a point when writing becomes easy. but i think you’ve always been pretty upfront and clear about how that is incredibly not true. writing will still be hard sometimes. i just think that’s neat

Thanks.

I’ve been getting paid for this work for forty years now, and I’m here to tell you that even in previous decades, when there always seemed more than enough energy for whatever needed doing, my work was never something I’d have dared characterize as “easy.” (Not least because I always knew such a description, no matter how jokingly I might have voiced it, would have been tempting fate.) ...And having just turned seventy, while these days I have to manage my energy resources a bit more carefully to get done what needs doing, the work’s still not easy.

Sure, some tasks associated with the Work become less troublesome to manage simply because you’ve met and managed them so many times now. Some problems that you’ve solved repeatedly enough become simpler to untangle... sometimes to the point that you don’t even have to think about how to manage things when they pop up. Some mistakes that you made too many times in previous years have also become easier to avoid over time (the way you learn to avoid riding your bike right at a brick wall after the first few times, no matter how you want to show up the person who dared you to. Pain’s a great teacher...).

But the everlasting search for the perfect word, or exactly the right character voice, or the quintessential viewpoint, or the most satisfying plot twist for this particular story, never gets any easier. Solve one of these challenges, and another will promptly present itself. This work is not meant to get easy, because growth isn’t easy... and the good writer is always growing and learning. The last thing you want to hear is “His/her/their book is just another version of the one before. They’ve gone stagnant. They’ve stopped trying.” And my concern is that the thought or feeling “That was easy” at the end of a project would be a sure sign that something or other was going very wrong.

There’s this, too. When too many things start becoming easy, there’s a risk of losing the one thing about a completed writing project that can’t be taken from you: your (rightful!) sense of accomplishment. At the end of the day, that’s the only prize that really matters. Yeah, you get paid when you turn work in. (Or not, if you’re laboring at the fanfic end of things.) But money (or kudos) cannot replace the intimate personal knowledge of what you did, and how you got it done. Outside rewards are no equal to the memory of how you sized up the task lying before you—the way a mountaineer sizes up a peak—or  the way you plotted out how you were going to tackle it: and how you then, step by step, pitch by pitch and crag by crag, embark on your fic’s or novel’s or screenplay’s conquest. The view from the top, months later, when you’re up there looking down over the way you’ve come, wouldn’t be anything like as satisfying if it had felt easy.

So I’m quite happy to keep a good tight grip on the sense of the Work sometimes being hard. When things fail to go as planned—because of life issues, or executing a batch of material and finding out after the fact that it’s all wrong, or discovering that the emphasis of your project has changed in some way you never expected—then the ways you find to shift and cope and get through to your goal are proof that you’re still growing, still learning new ways to get it done. The sense of difficulty, by this metric, is way more valuable as proof of growing expertise than any sense of things being, or getting, easy.

Anyway: thanks for the kind words. They’re much appreciated.  :)

[marvelouspeterparker]

professor’s sweetheart

pairing: professor!tom holland x student!reader

summary: professor holland teaches british literature at your university. you hadn’t expected much when you signed up for the course, but the experience is everything and more than you could have hoped for. 

word count: 15.1k

warnings: there is smut in here but it’s not the main focus (wild, i know)

notes: uh yeah i’d say just don’t fuck your professor? this is purely fictional. be safe, you know how it is <3

also she wrote a professor!harry styles fic, but if i hadn’t read that (over and over) i probably wouldn’t have been inspired to write this. so check out @songbirdstyles​ !

i listened to this playlist while writing it if ur interested :)

give me feedback please!!

“What class do you have next?” Your friend, and roommate Liz asked. You were both walking out of the cafeteria. It was 1:15, you had just finished lunch and you had fifteen minutes until your next class. You pushed the doors open together and braced yourselves as the cool late September breeze hit you, blowing your jackets open. You put both sides of the jacket together in front of you and crossed your arms to block the cold out. 

“Um,” you thought back for a moment, the cold temporarily knocking your senses right out of you. “British Literature.”

If you were being honest, you had taken this course because it fulfilled one of your requirements, but in the end it felt like one of the most rewarding parts of your college experience so far. The material was interesting, and instead of being bored out of your mind throughout the whole hour and a half of class––it was actually entertaining. You had your professor to thank for that.

“Oooh,” Liz twisted her lips to the side to suppress a knowing smile, but the look in her eyes gave it away. “With Professor Holland?” She asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. 

You rolled your eyes and bit your tongue to hide your smile. “Yes,” you shoved her playfully to the side making her step in a pile of leaves, the crunch under boots loud as ever as it carried through the crisp air. “Shut up.”

You and Liz had been roommates since your first year at university and had now spent four, coming up on five semesters rooming together. Luckily, you really hit it off, and easily fell into a routine together, forming a bond as you ate lunch and dinner together, studied in the library, had dance parties in your dorm, and more. You knew each other inside and out, often having random late night conversations while you procrastinated your work or couldn’t sleep, about literally anything and everything. Bottom line is, you trusted each other, which is why she knew about your sort-of-crush on Professor Holland. 

To be fair everyone had a thing for him, he was just that kind of guy. He was sweet and compassionate and funny. Professor Holland was one of those genuine professors who sincerely cared about their students and their well-beings. He was incredibly understanding. He’d schedule dozens of meetings with his students all in one day just because he wanted to help and make sure they were all alright. He liked to check in every now and then, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

From what you could tell he also seemed like a people person. No matter who he was with, whether it was a student, his teaching assistant Jacob, or his fellow professors––he was always attentive, cracking jokes, enjoying the conversation. Everyone seemed to love him. But you could also tell that a part of him was just a tad bit cocky, but in a joking and love-able way. 

All this goes to show that you spent way too much time thinking about him, and observing him, which could either be seen as really endearing or really creepy. 

“Look I’m just saying,” Liz shrugged, “Enjoy the class.” She nudged you, “I know I would.”

Realizing you were approaching the writing and arts center, and Liz’s next class was in the building across the street, you sent her off. “Yeah yeah, okay. Bye.” You tightened your arms around you and scurried off, skipping a crack in the sidewalk and walking up the steps to the building. You opened the door and were immediately welcomed by a rush of warm air and let out a sigh, rubbing your hands together as you made your way to the lecture hall. 

You pulled your phone out and checked the time, 1:22. You still had 8 minutes to spare. You were still walking and only glanced up from your phone right as you were about to walk into the door and were stopped suddenly when you crashed into a hard chest. You immediately felt two warm hands grasp your arms to steady you and were suddenly enveloped by the smell of tea and mint. 

“Woah! I’m sorry, love, are you alright?”

You froze as you looked up, feeling very much like a deer in headlights as you realized you quite literally crashed into your professor. “Oh––um,” you swallowed, suddenly feeling like the air was escaping you. You cleared your throat trying to save yourself from anymore embarrassment. “I’m fine––I’m sorry, that was my fault. I wasn’t looking––” You paused when you noticed the small smile on his face, his warm eyes making you forget what you were going to say.

“It’s alright, Y/N. It was partially my fault as well, I was too focused on––” he seemed to snap out of some trance, straightening himself up as his hands dropped back down to his sides and into his pockets. “Uh, well that’s not important.” He pulled one hand out of his pocket––he was wearing those blue slacks that you thought made his thighs look great, respectfully, of course. He checked the time on his watch and you had to stop yourself from ogling the veins in his arms as he did so. 

He looked up at you, brows furrowed playfully and you actually had to remind yourself to breathe. “You’re almost ten minutes early. You that eager to see me?” He ended his question with a teasing smirk and your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed to string together a response.

“I––um, I just really like this class and you––you’re my favorite professor.” You blurted out, your cheeks heating up as you realized what you just admitted. You had to force your eyes to go back to their normal size after they practically bulged at the realization of what you said. “And I mean, I just happened to get here early so...I thought I might as well get settled in.”

Your professor cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile as he glanced down at his shoes for a moment then back up at you. “Well then.” He extended his arm, pointing towards the open door of the hall and stepped aside. “Please, after you.” 

You gave him a small smile in return along with a quiet thank you and stepped through the door. But before you could walk over to your seat, you felt him lean over behind you to talk lowly in your ear. He was standing a respectably close distance, but his presence was so overwhelming it was as though you felt him everywhere. His breath caressed the smooth skin of your cheek as he spoke. 

“I’m technically not allowed to have favorites, but I do appreciate that you enjoy having me as your professor, darling.” It shouldn’t have had such an effect on you, really, it shouldn’t have. But something about him referring to himself by his title really did something to you. You took a sharp inhale as you stood up straight, your whole body on high alert as you turned your head towards him, your eyes refusing to look at his and instead finding solace in the fabric of his navy blue button up––which he’d rolled up to his forearms. 

“And if it means anything, I rather do enjoy having you in my class as well.” You snuck a peek at him, lifting your gaze slowly and only caught a glimpse of his soft lips as he smiled before walking over to his desk. 

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you walked up the steps to your usual spot in the middle row, near the aisle. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, and the man hadn’t even touched you––well not in the way you wanted him to, anyway. But enough of that. 

You checked your phone again, trying to calm down your heartbeat as you took in a deep breath, 1:28. People started shuffling into the class, the overlapping sounds of chatter and laughter rupturing the energy the room had when it was just the two of you. At 1:32 Professor Holland started the class, getting everyone’s attention smoother than anyone should be able to. You could almost feel everyone’s eyes focusing on him, some weren’t even listening to him, they were just so entranced by how good he looked and the way he sounded––his accent was just so endearing, you had to admit it. 

The hour and a half went by rather quickly but today you were more aware of yourself, of Professor Holland––even more than usual. It seemed as though his eyes would travel to your direction more often, after he made jokes as if to see your reaction, or while he paused in his speeches. 

At the end of the class, despite there being dozens of other students moving around you, you felt as though your professor was watching you as you made your way out of the room. But it had to be your imagination, there was just no way. 

When you got back to your dorm, Liz still wasn’t back yet so you decided to take a shower and spend some time relaxing. You had already done your work for the next day and your other work for the rest of the week––well, you decided you’d do it later. 

You changed into sweats after your shower and hopped on your bed, deciding to switch between your apps for an hour or so––honestly you’d lost track of time. Liz strolled in soon after, closing the door with a loud groan, throwing her bag on the floor.

You smiled, looking up at her from your lying position on the bed. “Hello to you too.”

She grumbled in response, finally looking at you. When she noticed you were already wearing your pajamas she pointed to you, her brows raised. “Good idea!” She immediately went to her drawers and picked out a random pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, changing with lightning speed for someone who was sluggishly groaning not even a minute before. 

She grabbed her phone and sat on her bed opposite yours, cross-legged, facing you. She looked at your face for a few seconds before squinting her eyes at you. “You have something to say. Spill.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face. 

She looked at you pointedly, “Well go on.” 

So you told her about your encounter with the infamous brit today, how you bumped into him, what he said to you, the glances he sent your way. When you finished recounting everything you took a deep breath, “But––this could all just be in my head you know, just me overreacting.”

She stared at you with a dead expression. “Are you fucking dumb?”

“Hey!”

She ignored you, rolling her eyes while she tried not to laugh. “Dude he totally wants to fuck you.” She said nonchalantly.

Your eyes bulged, “W–What do you––What?” 

“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”

You opened your mouth but when nothing came out, you paused and looked down at the carpet. After a few moments you looked back up at her to find her with a knowing smirk on her face. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am, when am I not?” When you were about to speak, she interrupted you. “Don’t answer that. But look, it seems like he’s into you. I think you should hit that.”

“But we––that’s not allowed!” You paused, “Is it?”

She laughed, “A ha! So you do want to!”

“Oh shut up, you already knew that. Everyone wants to, it’s not a big deal.”

She made a face, “Yes, but you’re the only one who actually has a chance at getting it.” 

You looked at her, a skeptical look on your face. “Even if that was true––he’s still my professor…”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah but it’s not like it’s in the handbook or anything. Plus, you’re both legal adults, so. There you have it. You’re free to bone.”

“You did not just say that.”

“But I did.” She smiled, lying down in her bed. “You really could, though. Just don’t tell anybody.” When you didn’t say anything else, she spoke up. “Okay I’m gonna take a nap now. You have a lot to think about.” 

You ignored the last part and went back to your phone, “Yeah you do that.” 

Throughout the rest of the afternoon and night you couldn’t stop thinking about this whole situation. This was bad...Or was it? It seemed all too complicated, that was for sure. You weren’t even sure he looked at you or thought of you that way. 

You fell asleep playing all the pros and cons of hypothetically getting with him, your mind an endless loop of your professor, his voice, how he sounded when he practically whispered that he liked being your teacher. This was all too much.

❊❊❊❊

All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. The tongue, teeth and lips following and leaving marks everywhere the hands traced. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. Your eyes locked in on the ones staring up at you with pure hunger and awe as you ground yourself down on his cock.

“That’s it darling, just like that. You’re doing so good for me.” His lips curved into that oh so familiar smirk. “I taught you well, didn’t I?”

You woke up sweaty, your shirt sticking to your torso, a wet patch on your panties, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of your dorm room. A sex dream. Of course you had a fucking sex dream about him. Fuck. You were just lucky that your next class with him was on Thursday so you didn’t have to see him today. Because that would not help you at all. 

You checked the time on your phone, squinting at the brightness before turning it all the way down, 10am. You got out of bed with a groan and took your toiletries bag and your towel to the bathroom, deciding to take a shower this morning, instead of later on at night. Lord knows you certainly needed one. A cold one too.

You were frustrated, frustrated with yourself for feeling this way about your professor––sure, he was only a few years older than you, but it was the principle of the matter––frustrated that you were overthinking this entire thing, and most importantly you were annoyed because you were extremely horny. 

When you got into the bathroom, you locked the door and set your stuff down. You put your hands on both sides of the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror. Who are we and what happened? You sighed and grabbed your toothbrush, brushing your teeth quickly and aggressively, since everything seemed to be a hassle this morning. You’d hoped that once you hopped in the shower, you’d calm down. 

When you made your way inside, you sighed contently at the feeling of the warm water pattering against your skin, freshening you up immediately. Your nipples were still hard, between your legs still wet. So you brought a hand down between your thighs, the other to your breast as you stood under the water––almost as though the water was washing away the sinful act and thoughts right at the source. You laughed at the thought, nope, nothing can wash this away. 

You squeezed your breast and tugged at your nipple, rubbing your sensitive bud just the way you liked. You were still sensitive from...your dream, so it didn’t take long for everything to build up. You couldn’t help yourself, your mind brought back the remnants of last night that you remembered, the way his hands gripped you when he steadied you, the way his arms looked, and you came with a whimper that was louder than you would have liked. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and resting your head back on the tiles as the water continued to fall on you. 

When you came back to your dorm, Liz was on her way out but she stopped, raising her brows at you, “So have you come to a conclusion?”

You walked past her into the dorm, “Go to class, Liz.” You heard her cackle down the hallway as you closed the door. 

You got dressed casually, not rushing since there was nowhere for you to go and decided to go to the local cafe near the school. You needed to clear your head and get some work done, and you definitely would not get any of it done in your dorm. Not today, anyway. 

You checked the weather and seeing that it was a little warmer today, you put a sweatshirt on, grabbed your bag along with your phone and your laptop and you were on your way. The breeze felt refreshing this morning as you stepped out of your dorm. Your walk to the cafe was only ten or so minutes but it felt good. 

Stepping into the little shop, you were immediately hit by the aroma of coffee and sweets, surrounded by the sound of light chatter and utensils clattering on the wooden tables. The warm light above you brought a sense of comfort as you made your way over to the counter. The line was rather short so you managed to order your usual drink and snack quickly. As you were waiting for the cashier to hand you your things, your eyes scanned the shop––the ambience was rather nice and the talking almost felt like background noises. You wouldn’t mind staying here to work.

As you gathered your things, you turned around in search of a free table––which would be the deciding factor in whether or not you would stay, you did not want to awkwardly share the small table space with some stranger. You took a few steps into the seating area and almost choked on your breath when you made eye contact with the last person you wanted to see today. 

He smiled charmingly at you, teeth and all and quickly made his way over before you even had a chance to think of escaping. “Y/N!” He stood in front of you, his eyes bright. He was actually happy to see you? He was always happy to see everyone, it didn’t mean anything. 

His voice snapped you out of your annoyingly loud thoughts.  “Fancy seeing you here.” He nudged you playfully, “How are you?” He was wearing a very tight white button up that was unbuttoned until the third, showing a generous amount of his chest, a grey suit and pants, along with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. It took you a few more seconds than it should have to process that there were actual words coming out of his mouth.  

You forced a smile onto your face but the more you looked into his eyes, the more genuine it became, almost impossible to wipe off. “I’m good. Was just grabbing breakfast before I start my work. You?”

He raised his cup, “Same as you. Have a bit of time before my next class.” 

You noticed that you couldn’t tell what exactly was in the cup and your curiosity got the better of you. You pointed to the cup clasped in his fingers, “Is that coffee?”

He furrowed his brows in mock offense, “I only drink tea, darling.” He leaned his upper body forward to whisper to you, his cheek almost touching yours, “I’d think you would know that about your favorite professor.” He tutted playfully as he stood up straight again, watching you, a look that you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his eyes as he watched you over his cup, taking a teasingly long sip. 

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open, not a clue what to respond. When he pulled the cup away from his mouth he looked down at you, his gaze drifting down and you’d never felt more exposed, despite the fact that you were wearing two layers of clothing. “I like your sweatshirt.” He smiled, glancing down at it before looking directly into your eyes, his head lowered slightly.

Your eyes widened in surprise and your head snapped down to see your spiderman sweatshirt looking back at you boldly. Oh––Oh. You lifted your head back up to find him still smiling at you softly, he didn’t seem to be teasing you at all. “Um thanks.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, despite the cool air that swept your legs as someone opened the door to the cafe. “Are you uh–– a marvel fan?” 

He pursed his lips playfully, “Yeah,” his hand came up to rub the back of his neck, “Yeah you could say that.” He licked his lips and took another sip of his drink.

Your eyes, with a mind of their own, trailed down the column of his throat, following the vein on the side of his neck, the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed the warm liquid. The action almost seemed provocative, in both meanings of the term. 

Suddenly you felt very hot and you knew that you had to get out of there before you made a fool of yourself in front of everyone, but most importantly him. You perked up, “I uh––I have to go professor, but it was nice talking with you. See you tomorrow!” With that you quite literally ran off, wincing as you turned around, having noticed the way his lips parted as if to speak, a furrow between his brows appearing out of confusion and concern. You really had to get control of yourself. 

You practically berated yourself as you speed walked away. God, that was so stupid. And not to mention, incredibly rude! He’d probably be upset with you now, or maybe even mad. It’s just––unbelievable what he did to you, without even actually doing anything. It took you the entire walk there to realize that you unconsciously made your way back to your dorm––so much for the library. But you’d had enough social interaction for today, so you decided you’d stay there.

You got in your bed and buried yourself under the covers, deciding you needed the comfort of being hidden in your mattress after the embarrassment you’d just experienced. You lied there just staring at the plain, white ceiling for way too long until you let out a loud huff and sat up, before grabbing your computer to start your work. 

Deciding to check your college email before you started, since they were incessant and it was easy to miss something, you scanned down the list of messages in your inbox. Your eyes skimmed through the boxes on the left of your screen, notifications that your professors left feedback on your assignments, the weekly newsletter, club events, a message from Holland, Tom––

You shut your computer immediately, eyes bulging as you held your breath. You swallowed thickly, as you stared into nothing in front of you, your eyes barely taking in anything, your mind a big ball of fuzz. 

After taking a few deep breaths, and telling your overdramatic brain to calm down, you opened the laptop again. Biting your lip, you hovered your mouse over the message, reading over the small bits of information you could see in the preview.

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, I just wanted to make  …

You could feel your heart beating through your chest. Oh God––Wanted to make sure what?? The sensible part of your brain said to just open it to figure it out for yourself. But the irrational, idiotic part of your brain was yelling at you to not open it under any circumstance. What if he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea? Did he know how you felt about him? Were you that obvious? Maybe he thinks you’re clinically insane and wants to make sure you’re getting the attention you need? You did run off like a crazy person, after all. 

You shut your eyes tight and groaned loudly into your hands. Liz walked in and whistled lowly, taking in everything in front of her. You looked up, confused and looked at the time, realizing it had already been two hours since you first left the dorm, meaning she was done with her classes for the day.

“What’s up?” She took a seat at her desk, propping her legs on the table as she leaned back.

You waved her off, deciding it would be best to let this blow over and ignore it for now. You’d go back when you were in the right state of mind. 

She started telling you about her day and annoyingly, your brain decided today would be the day that it would not shut off. Your brows were furrowed as you tried your best to focus on what your friend was saying, but she wasn’t even looking in your direction, staring up into the air above her as she spoke animated, hands waving around, so she didn’t even notice you struggling to pay attention. 

Your eyes kept flitting back to the screen of your computer, your fingers swiping across the trackpad to turn it back on when the screen’s brightness lowered every now and then. 

Liz looked back at you and stopped her spiel. “Alright what’s up with you?” 

You sighed deeply and looked up at her. “Sorry, sorry. I just––I saw Professor Holland today––”

“Already?” She interrupted you, a goofy smile on her face. “Damn, you work fast.”

You threw the nearest pillow at her, “Shut up! I didn’t fuck him.”

“You should’ve.” She pointed out, holding the pillow to her chest. 

You glared at her until she raised her hands in surrender, then continued, your eyes bouncing from object to object in the room as you babbled. 

“I went to the cafe and I saw him and he came over to me and we started talking––and he whispered in my ear and he was joking around with me and he sipped his tea and he was super close to me and super hot, and I couldn’t handle it so I basically ran off without giving him a chance to say bye.” You took a deep breath, “And then he sent me an email after I saw him and I still haven’t opened it because I’m scared and I don’t know what he said…” You took another breath and looked at your friend, blinking as she just stared at you.

After a moment, she spoke up. “Dude just open the email.”

Your eyes widened almost in offense. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?”

“Yeah you practically fucked in the cafe then you got scared and ran away.” She spoke nonchalantly and you could tell she was fighting off a smile. “Look, eventually you have to open the email anyway, you can’t just ignore it. So just do it and rip the bandaid off.” You were about to speak up when she interrupted you, “I promise it won’t be half as bad as you think. We both know your mind is absolutely filled with the craziest ideas.” 

You huffed and fell back down on the bed, not bothering to argue since you both knew she was right. 

“Shit, I’m starving.” She looked at the time, “Yeah it’s about time for me to eat food.” She stood up, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Can you please get something for me?” She knew you well enough that you didn’t have to tell her what to get. You gave her your best smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“Are you serious.” She looked at you, deadpan, standing like the little emoji of the woman standing in place with her arms at her sides. 

You had to suppress your smile, “What if I see him?” You asked incredulously, lying further in the covers. “I’d rather stay in here and hide, for now.”

“You have class with him tomorrow––”

“That’s why I said for now.”

She cracked a smile, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her things, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you!”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved her hand and walked out the door. 

A few moments passed after Liz left and you sat up yet again, putting your computer on your lap as you swiped the trackpad, making the screen light up again. You checked the time, it had been almost an hour since he sent the email, you really shouldn’t make him wait any longer. Not that he’s waiting at all, he probably didn’t even notice that you hadn’t responded.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, swallowed your nerves and clicked on the email. 

Holland, Tom

Just checking in

Hi Y/N, 

I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. You seemed kind of stressed when you left earlier and I’m hoping it wasn’t because of anything I did. Can we check in tomorrow in my office? Hope everything is going well. 

Warmest Regards,

Professor Holland

He wanted to meet tomorrow after class. In his office. Alone. 

Oh, fuck. You could hear Liz in your head going Yes, fuck. But you quickly shoved her aside. 

You read over the email about five times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting anything, because that would be even more embarrassing. You clicked the reply button and slowly wrote out your response.

Hi Professor Holland,

Everything is fine, but thank you for asking, I appreciate the concern. I’m free tomorrow after class if you’re available then.

Thank you!

Y/N

You hit send and not even two minutes later, you received a response. 

Hi Y/N,

Perfect! I’ll see you then :)

Warmly,

Professor Holland

How on earth were you supposed to focus on your work now? More importantly, how were you going to focus in class tomorrow?

❊❊❊❊

The next day, the butterflies in your stomach would not calm down. When you stepped into the class, he was talking to another student and you tried to sneak past to your seat unnoticed. You thought you’d succeeded but once you sat down and looked up, you made direct eye contact with him and you swear you stopped breathing. You barely even recognized the sound of everyone moving around you, getting ready for class to start. 

He parted his lips and reluctantly turned back to the student still talking to him, snapping out of his daze, but not after glancing back at you. You swallowed and sank down in your seat. This was going to be a long class. 

At 1:35, class started. Professor Holland stood up and clasped his hands, making his way to the middle of the floor in front of everybody, his voice reverberating through the room. 

“Good afternoon everybody. Hope you’re all doing well.” His eyes found yours and you bit your lip nervously. You could see him swallow as he watched you, before moving his gaze elsewhere. Was that because of you? Surely, it had to be a coincidence. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. Oh great––

He went on, seemingly unfazed, eyes darting back to you subtly before continuing. The discussion soon turned to the book you’d just been assigned to read. The book was rather lengthy but there were always so many things to talk about within only a few pages––which you loved, so it was taking you all a while to go through everything together in class. 

The conversations often took up a lot of the class time since Professor Holland simply loved talking and he always found everyone’s interpretations interesting and worth exploring––eager to hear our classmates perspectives. He also often said that he was not good at using technology, so he preferred to just talk and show rather than use his computer. Honestly, you found it endearing.

The conversations were always interesting to listen to, people never failed to give you insight on things you hadn’t even thought of before, but sometimes––some people were just a little stupid.

Someone brought up a slightly sexist point that made absolutely no sense but since you weren’t the one to call someone out in front of a room full of people, you stuck to your facial reactions instead of audibly responding. You turned back to the front of the class to see Professor Holland’s opinion to find that he was watching you, trying and failing to suppress his smile. 

He put both hands in his pockets which you found ironic considering they would jump out any time soon––he loved to talk with his hands. His eyes got serious, the smile on his face a little less friendly as he addressed the sophomore who made the comment. “I don’t know if you’re aware of how ludicrously sexist that comment you just made was, but now you know.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Remember to think before you speak. This isn’t to necessarily call anyone out. It’s a warning. Senseless remarks will not only affect my view of you, but your grades as well.” 

He went on and tried to shape the boy’s comment into something appropriate to discuss and you honestly couldn’t focus on anything else he said, you were just looking at him in awe and in shock. Sure, this was the bare minimum, but since it was so rare to see, it was very noticeable and even impressive when you noticed it.

God, you adored this man.

Near the end of class, he announced the next assignment, a paper you’d have to write about a comparison you made between any point in the story, a character, a theme, a hidden meaning, etc. and something in our modern reality, a social norm, a popular belief, etc. Your essays were always very open ended in this class, giving you room to write about almost anything you wanted to. Your professor knew that the assignments would be more enjoyable if there was some choice involved. He truly was good at his job. 

“Look, reading’s hard sometimes, I get it. I’m dyslexic, so trust me, I understand. But I never let that stop me.” He paused to look around the room and it was so silent you could hear each other’s inhales and exhales. The power he had over a room full of around one hundred people was insane, and in a weird way, also turned you on. “I know the book is massive. Listen to the audio books if you have to, I don’t mind. But get the work done either way. It’s not for me, it’s for you. I want you to get the best grade you can in this class.”

“Bring me interesting material. I don’t want to fall asleep reading your work.” He joked and smiled proudly when laughter filled the room. “The essay is due in two weeks. Good luck.”

There were a few thank you’s and goodbyes scattered around the room as he sent everyone off, people scurrying from all sides to the exits. 

You took your time gathering all your things and took a deep breath when the last few people made their way out, silence soon surrounding the both of you. You put your bag over your shoulder and walked down the carpeted steps, suddenly finding the dark grey pattern to be the most interesting things you’ve ever seen––and also watching your steps so that you don’t fall down them in front of him. You could barely hear the soft patter of your shoes as you walked down. When you finally got the main floor you looked up and saw him waiting for you patiently, things in his hands, a smile on his face. 

“Let’s go then, shall we?” You nodded shyly and he led the way, his office only a hallway away from the lecture hall. You found it slightly odd that he didn’t try to make conversation on your way there, since he always loved to. But you tried not to think too hard about it. Maybe he was just tired. 

When you reached his office, he opened the door and let you walk in first. Your eyes immediately scanned the room out of curiosity as you stepped inside, noticing his desk, the wood a dark mahogany which was covered with stacks of papers, picture frames, pens, and a few marvel funko pops––so he really was a fan. You’d never actually been inside of his office before. It was an intimidating thought for you to be in his office with him, alone. You just didn’t want to embarrass yourself. 

You turned to him and gestured to the chair across from his desk, “Do I just––”

“Please,” he interrupted eagerly. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

You took a seat and he set his things down next to his desk before sitting as well. His hair was coiffed to perfection today, curls sculpted nicely, a dark blue suit on his body with a black shirt underneath. He took off the suit jacket and put it on the back of his chair and you could see his veins and muscles bulging and shifting in his arms as he moved. He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and wow he had nice fingers. You really had to get a grip on yourself––

“How was class today for you? Well, besides that one disappointing comment.”

You smiled, “I always enjoy the class, but yeah that was uh, disappointing as you said.

“I think your interpretations are always very insightful and very interesting. It’s almost a shame that you don’t share them with the whole class but part of me likes it that we keep them between us.” Oh? “Plus, I know how scary it can be talking in front of all those people. I almost shit myself first time I taught that class––”

You let out a surprised laughter and he couldn’t help laugh as well. 

“Shit, sorry! I mean––” He sighed, “Language, sorry. I’m British.” He shrugged, “Can’t help it.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay. Personally I think curse words spice up conversations.” You smiled proudly when he laughed at your joke. 

His smile radiated a more nervous energy after his laughter died off. “When you ran off yesterday, that wasn’t––was that because of me? Because if I did something to make you uncomfortable I’m so sorry.”

You tilted your head, trying to think of a way to explain. “No it wasn’t, well––it kind of was?” You had no idea why you would tell him this, but apparently your mouth was moving without agreeing with your mind first. 

There was almost a pout on his face and you had the sudden urge to reach over the table and smooth it out with your lips. “It’s just, well––You make me just a little bit nervous, to be honest professor.” You looked down at your lap and back up at him timidly.

He raised his brows, “Oh––”

Your smile was strained and you wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by the floor. 

“Well that’s not a bad thing, is it?” He looked at you almost, hopefully?

You laughed, “No trust me, it’s not.” Your eyes widened at the realization of what you’d basically just admitted to him and you didn’t know if you should feel embarrassed or relieved when the smirk appeared on his face.

But the words that he uttered next cleared that up for you. “Well, if I’m honest, you make me nervous too, darling. And definitely not in a bad way.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, almost teasing you with how good he looked.

You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, crossing your legs, your thighs squeezing together, and he definitely noticed, his eyes trailing down your body as he licked his lips as well. 

The tension in the room was so thick but you found that you didn’t want to escape it, if anything you wanted to carve your way through it, stay for as long as you could until it snapped. 

Your professor spread his legs, his hands coming down to rub at his thighs as he watched you and the sound of your heartbeat pounding filled your ears. It was almost as if there was an unseen force pulling the two of you together, but before it could there was a knock at the door. 

The both of your heads snapped to the door to find it opening slowly. Jacob, Tom’s teaching assistant popped his head in. You had talked to him a few times, he was always very nice. He didn’t attend every class, but you guessed that he would be attending the next one. “Hey man.” He turned to you and smiled, “Oh hi Y/N.” You waved and let out a small hi in response. He turned back to the professor. “Your next class is starting like––” He looked at his watch. “Now.” 

“Shit, sorry man. Lost track of time.” He got up and you did too, smiling sheepishly as you grabbed your things, getting up from your seat. “I’ll be right there.” Jacob nodded and closed the door.

You both made your way over to the exit slowly, still reeling from what maybe could have happened and what you both obviously thought of. The silence was loud around you, but it wasn’t scary this time. 

“Let me know if you need any help with the upcoming assignment, alright? Don’t be afraid to stop by if you need to.” His gaze dropped down to your lips for a split second before reaching your eyes again. “For anything.” He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t describe but quickly tried to mask it with a smile as he opened the door for you, his eyes practically holding yours captive. 

“Thank you, professor. I will.” 

You stepped out and he watched you for a few moments before closing the door. You looked back, smiling as you caught his eye and as soon as he stepped back in the office, you practically ran out of the building and to your dorm, a stupid grin on your face. 

“Holy shit.”

❊❊❊❊

When you practically burst into your dorm room, scaring Liz half to death before you told her what happened, let’s just say she wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“I fucking told you!” She flopped onto her bed, still staring at you pointedly as she did so, a smirk on her face. She pointed at you before dropping her hand down dramatically by her side. “You like, owe me a soda now or something.” 

You rolled your eyes but you were so giddy the smile still hadn’t dropped from your face. “Well I do owe you for getting me lunch yesterday, so maybe I will buy you one.”

❊❊❊❊

Over the weekend, you started working on the essay for British Literature and you were already about halfway done since the topic you chose actually interested you. But you found yourself questioning if you were writing it properly as you went on. You weren’t sure if it was because you wanted it to be near perfect since you’d found out he paid extra attention to you, or maybe you just wanted to talk to him again––you’d never know. 

After discussing with Liz, you decided you’d stop by his office on Monday afternoon once you were done with your classes. You knew he liked to stay in his office until late at night sometimes, he always said we could stop by whenever, if we needed something. So you decided to take advantage of that, shoving down your anxious thoughts and doing what you wanted. 

Liz may or may not have convinced you to wear a shirt that was––aesthetically pleasing, to put it, specifically in the chest area so you were more than eager to see your professor’s reaction. You were a little nervous, you didn’t want it to seem like you were trying too hard, but you thought you looked good in this shirt, and you had a right to feel good about yourself. Since it was a little chilly outside, you hid it under a sweatshirt for now.

You got to his office and found yourself staring at the dark wood, hesitating to knock on. After taking a deep breath you rapped your knuckles against the door. 

You heard a faint Come in! And you took a deep breath and opened the door slowly to find him sitting at his desk, “Hi Professor Holland.” He was finishing some notes on a student’s essay but his head snapped up immediately at the sound of your voice.

He dropped his pen and sat up, “Please,” he motioned to the seat across from his desk and you smiled gratefully before settling down. “What can I do for you? Everything alright?”

His eyes looked sincere and concerned and you could feel your insides melting a little bit. 

“I just––I really want to do well on this essay,” He nodded for you to continue, “But I’m just not sure if I’m going in the right direction.”

 He nodded understandingly, “Well let’s have a look, shall we?”

You reached down to grab your things when he stood up and walked past you, your eyes following him in confusion. He gestured to the couch, a somewhat impish smile on his face. “Just thought it would be more comfortable––and easier for us to look together, of course.”

You nodded, a small smile on your face as you picked up your bag and sat next to him on the couch. “Right, of course.” It was a loveseat so there wasn’t much room for either of you to distance yourselves.

You got out your computer and opened up the essay. You had already opened it before you got there, not wanting to have to awkwardly wait for it to load. Yes, you overthought things but––it helped sometimes. “I see you came prepared,” he joked and you couldn’t help but smile. He really did notice everything, didn’t he.

“Well I’m really confident about the topic of my essay, I think it’s interesting. But I feel like I may be adding too much into the paper, and I’m not sure if I’m overthinking things or if I should take some things out.” 

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I meant it when I said I appreciate having you in my class, you know. I always love reading your work. You write well.” 

“Thank you, professor.” Though you saw his eyes darken at the title, he commented on it.

“You can call me Tom when we’re alone, darling. No need for formalities.”

“But I like calling you professor––” Your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you spoke before he could, ignoring his smile, “I mean um. Tom––Okay I can try that.”

His tongue passed under his teeth, a devilish smirk on his face as he watched you squirm under his gaze. “No you know, now I think professor is growing on me.”

You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Prof––Tom.”

He raised his hands in surrender, “Alright alright.” 

“Why don’t you read it to me? It’s easier to see where you can improve when you hear it out loud.”

You swallowed nervously, nodding your head as you brought your laptop closer to you. “O––Okay.”

You started reading your paper out loud, voice becoming slightly steadier as you went on, two fingers scrolling up the trackpad. He made comments as you read, only praise––and with each compliment you felt yourself getting hotter. Very good. Always write so well. Nice point there. Mhm. Good girl, that’s an excellent point. He shifted his way closer to you gradually as you read on and when his thigh touched yours, you had to tell yourself not to jump from the contact.  

He placed his arm on the back of the couch, basically around your shoulder and you had to smush down the urge to throw your computer and climb into his lap. His thighs did look very inviting with the way he was sitting, though. 

He moved closer to you and you could feel his breath cascading down over your shoulder as he brought his hand to the trackpad, his arm over your thigh, fingers scrolling through to where he had a few suggestions. 

When he finished his few remarks, you could hear the proud smile in his voice. “See, I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. You’re a good writer...” He paused and you turned your head slightly to find his lips mere inches from yours, his eyes trained on your mouth. His words were barely a whisper when he spoke up again, “A good student.” You both leaned in slowly and his hand came up to hold your cheek lightly. “Bet you’d be a good girl for me too.” 

You gasped lightly and leaned forward, giving in and finally pressing your lips to his, both your hands grabbing his jaw. He moaned immediately, his body pressing into yours as you twisted to face him, his other hand coming around your waist to pull you in. You felt your laptop slipping off your thighs and squeaked, making the both of you laugh and pull away, flustered. 

“Careful, love.” Tom grabbed the computer and put it down on the floor gently, confirming that you saved your work before pushing the lid closed. 

The air in the room was hot, thanks to Tom in general, but also thanks to what you just did. So you pulled away and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Tom’s pout when he thought you were getting up to leave. Since there wasn’t much space on the couch, you stood up to take your hoodie off and you heard his breath hitch when his eyes fell upon the shirt you were wearing. “Christ-”

“Now what’s this?” Tom said almost to himself, his eyes staring at you in wonder and awe. “Never seen this little number before.” He noticed the clothes you wore? His hands were already aching to feel you again, reaching out for you subconsciously and you bit your lip to calm your smile as you sat back down, letting your sweater fall to the floor softly. 

“What, this old thing?” You joked, looking down at the shirt––yeah, you looked good. “You like it?” You looked up at him, a cheekily innocent look in your eyes.

He put his hands around your waist and pulled you into his lap, enjoying the gasp it elicited from you. You put your hands gingerly on his shoulders and the way he was looking up at you made you never want to leave this position ever again. You tilted your head and licked your lips and Tom couldn’t take it anymore, he kissed you again, hands gripping you firmly, anchoring you to him. He pulled away after a good while, wanting to look at you again, his lips parted, practically panting like an animal. You really had an effect on him, but he did the same to you. 

His eyes were taking you in, basically capturing a mental image for later. “God, you look heavenly, darling.” You squirmed in his lap and bit your lip when you felt a bulge growing underneath you. He leaned forward and left a trail of kisses on the tops of your breasts, leaving a few teasing nips and sucks here and there. You squealed, your hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair. You pulled his head up by his hair and the look in his eyes looked absolutely feral––like he wanted to eat you. 

You were about to lean in and kiss him again when a knock at the door surprised the both of you. You both jumped off of the couch as Tom threw out excuses. “Yeah just a second!” You straightened out your shirt as Tom did the same to his pants and you picked up your things. 

When he saw that you were settled, he took a deep breath and answered the door. His colleague and best friend Professor Osterfield, was standing there, a grin on his face. “You div, are you ever going to be on time for our monthly meetings?––” He stood up straight when he noticed you standing behind Tom. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.” He looked between the two of you and it seemed as though he pieced everything together. Maybe Tom had told him about you? If he did, you wouldn’t be worried Tom didn’t seem like the type to tell unreliable people his business––and they were best friends after all.

You smiled at him in acknowledgement as moved aside to let you pass. “Sorry,” you looked between the both of them, “I’ll let you get to whatever you have to go to.” You looked at Tom once you were out of his office, “Thank you for the feedback, professor.”

You could see him fighting off his smirk before he replied, “Of course.” His stare was impenetrable as he looked at you, “Feel free to come by whenever.” You could see the hidden meaning in his words and let the hint of a smile show, before nodding and walking off.

Harrison looked at him, a pitiful smile on his face. “I hope you know what you’re doing, mate. You should be careful, for the both of you.”

Tom sighed, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know, man. Let’s go.” 

❊❊❊❊

You found yourself missing Tom as soon as you left. God, this was kind of pathetic. But at least your feelings weren’t necessarily one sided––he did say you made him nervous too after all. You doubt he’d say that if he just wanted to fuck you––he was better than most men. And sure you might be a little biased, but at the end of the day he had a good heart and he was educated. So bonus. 

When you stepped into your dorm, your roommate was sitting on her bed, snacks in hand as she looked at you expectantly. “Now these,” she gestured to the food on her bed, “are either for a story time, to rebuild your energy or both.” 

You laughed and changed into your pajamas, starting to tell your best friend about everything that just happened. She often interrupted with her reactions and comments.

Oh. My. God.

Shut. Up.

You’re fucking lying! 

“But we didn’t fuck.”

“Boo––”

“Yes, boo.” You laughed, “Professor Osterfield knocked at the door and dragged him off to a meeting so.” You shrugged.

“Professor Osterfield...is that the hot blond one?” You nodded and she continued expressing her feelings for the man. “I’d let him teach me a few things––”

“Literally bye.”

She laughed, “What? Come on have you seen him––”

“I’m a little preoccupied with another professor to be honest.”

She nodded, handing you a bag of chips as you settled in your bed. “True. And oh how lucky you are.” You smiled in agreement. 

❊❊❊❊

Today was the day the essay was due and though you normally handed it in at the beginning of class, for once, you didn’t and you could feel Tom’s gaze following you as you walked up the steps to your seat without so much as a glance in his direction. You’d stopped by his office a few times over the past two weeks since Harrison interrupted you, but you never did anything more than kissing and grinding. You were both too scared of getting caught, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t thought about doing more in there.  

Tom liked to have physical copies of the essays, just in case technology decides it’s against him (his words), so everyone had until 8pm tonight to drop it off by his office. You were definitely going to use that to your advantage. 

You didn’t wear anything provocative to class, you didn’t really want that kind of attention today, plus you knew that Tom’s interest in you wasn’t solely based on your appearance. So you put the revealing items on under your clothing. And honestly, the thought that no one knew what you were wearing underneath it all only excited you even further. 

You crossed your legs, relieving your tension and biting your lip as class went on, enjoying how flustered Tom would be every time he looked at you. You felt so submissive when you were alone with him, but when you were in public like this? Free to tease him subtly from a distance? That’s where you had all the power. 

You had him blushing and stuttering throughout the whole class, though it wouldn’t have been easy for everyone else to notice, for you it was so obvious. He kept rubbing his hands together, pacing around as his eyes darted to you every few minutes. At one point he went over to sit down at his desk, which he rarely did while teaching––and you were fairly certain it was to hide a bulge in his pants. All thanks to you. 

In the middle of the class, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and pulled it out just to see if it was an emergency. You were pleasantly surprised and could feel your whole body react when you noticed who the message was from.

Tom: Having fun, are you?

Your eyes shot up to the front of the room and you bit your lip to contain your smile when you noticed him glaring at you.

Y/N: I always have fun in this class, professor ;)

You put your phone away afterwards and focused on the class, knowing it was killing Tom that you weren’t giving him more attention. Your heart was racing and your panties had a wet patch by the time class was over. You had a feeling he was going to try to keep you after class, so you hurried up and gathered your things, sighing in relief when a few students went up to his desk to talk to him. 

You smirked to yourself and headed straight for the door, your head high on your shoulders. But just as you were about two feet from the exit, Tom spoke up. 

“I assume I’ll be seeing you later, Miss Y/L/N?”

You turned around, eyes slightly widening as you noticed him, the group of students near him.

He smirked slyly, “To turn in your paper, remember?” His eyes were giving you a knowing look.

You swallowed, nodding as you smiled at him innocently. “Of course, professor.” You enjoyed the way his eyes darkened only slightly, only noticeable to you. “See you then.” With that you walked out.

❊❊❊❊

You practically skipped to his office at around 7:45, before knocking at the door, four knocks in a specific pattern––the code you’d made together. 

“Come in, darling!”

You walked in and quickly shut the door, a chuckle escaping you. “You know someone could hear you from the outside one day, right?”

He shrugged, “I’ll just blame it on my accent. Could call everyone darling, they don’t know any better.”

You laughed. “Okay well––Professor Holland,” you said, loving the way he looked at you when you uttered his title. “I brought this for you.” You took out the printed essay and placed it on his desk.

He pushed his chair out, his eyes following your every move as he spread his legs. “Oh is that right?” 

You took the invitation and took your reserved seat in his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you looked down at him. “Mhm, still want a good grade in this class you know. You are my favorite professor after all.”

He smirked smugly, licking his lips. “And you,” he kissed your lips before pulling away briefly, “Are my favorite girl.” He brought his hands up your back and pulled you into him as he kissed you again. This time, longer and deeper, wanting to feel you as much as possible. “Teased me so much in class today.” You smiled into the kiss and he continued, “Almost wanted to take you over my knee right there in front of everyone.” 

You moaned audibly and he brought his hand up to your neck, gripping you softly but firmly, giving you room to pull away if you didn’t approve. When you leaned further into his grip, he grinned and pulled you closer. You started grinding down on him, basking in the desperate groans and sighs you were coaxing out of him, the way his movements became more frantic as he bucked into you. 

After debating with yourself in your head for a moment––struggling to think properly with his hands all over you, you got off of his lap and smiled at the small whines of protest he let out before reaching for his belt. You made eye contact with him and noticed how wide his eyes were, hopeful, hungry, but hesitant. 

His hands reached for yours, “You don’t have to, darling. If anything I should be doing this first. God knows I’ve thought about it.”

You pouted, trying your best to ignore his words and focus on the task at hand. “But I want to,” you kissed his cheek, “I wanna make you feel good, professor.” He nodded, barely able to speak.

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?” 

You nodded eagerly, licking your lips as he pulled himself out of his trousers. “More than anything. Wanna make up for earlier.” You got down on your knees, mouth practically salivating at the way his member stood tall against his abdomen, his tip leaking with precum. 

Your hand wrapped around him just as a knock sounded at the door. Professor?

The both of your eyes widened, the both of you looking around for some sort of answer before he ushered you under the desk, tucking himself back in hastily, pulling his chair as much as he could and sitting at the edge, hiding his unbuttoned and unbuckled pants. Luckily for the both of you, the back of the desk reached the floor, so whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see you hiding underneath. “Uh––Come in!”

The person walked in and you recognized the sound of her voice, she often spoke up in the lectures. You couldn’t remember her name, though. You do, however, remember that she often spoke up only to get Tom’s attention. You’d heard her gush about him in the halls just outside his class in the hopes of him hearing her. You couldn’t blame her, but the thought still irked you. “I just wanted to give you my paper. I hope it’s not too late.” 

Tom checked the time on his watch, 7:58. “Nope,” he laughed breathlessly, trying to compose himself, “Not too late at all, in fact just in time.” 

She handed her paper to Tom and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying his best not to think about the fact that your hands were trailing up his thighs and that he could feel your warm breath hitting the exposed part of his member––he really hadn’t payed attention when he tucked himself back in. 

Before he could send the girl who’s name you still hadn’t remembered off, she took a seat across from him and he swallowed nervously, a little frustrated since he was so close to getting his cock in his girl’s mouth. 

It seemed that you somehow read his thoughts because as soon as the girl kept talking for another two minutes, you pulled his member out and stroked him, licking up his shaft and he tensed, taking every ounce of self control he had not to look down at you. His hand reached down and held your cheek gently, just wanting to feel you. You nuzzled into his palm and he had to bite his lip to suppress his smile, not wanting the student across from him to think his endearing expression was meant for her. 

You honestly completely tuned out all the words she was saying, your sole focus pleasuring Tom. But you didn’t miss the flirty and falsely innocent tone in her voice. You couldn’t see her but she was no doubt batting her eyelashes at him as well. 

When she made a comment about how good his shirt looked on him, you couldn’t help yourself, you sucked his tip into your mouth with no warning, making him groan unexpectedly. You paused, eyes wide and playful as your mouth stayed around him.

“Are you okay professor?” 

He let out a strained smile, “Yes, Emma, Sorry––” So her name was Emma. “I just uh banged my knee on the desk.”

She hummed a small okay and went on.

He caught your eye, trying his best to keep his expression neutral, but boy was it hard. Especially when you were looking up at him like that, with his cock in your mouth. You licked around his tip and lowered your mouth around him and he had to force himself to focus on the girl who was still talking to him.

You were not playing fair but quite frankly you didn’t care. You were making him feel good and yourself too. Your hand was pumping him, your tongue swirling around him as quietly as you could, while your other hand found its place between your thighs. 

In the middle of Emma’s speech, Tom’s eyes drifted down and widened, his breath getting caught in his throat when he noticed your other hand, moving between your legs. He stuttered out an excuse, unable to tear his eyes away from you for a moment, “Uh, Emma I’m so sorry––I just have so much work to do, but feel free to come back–���” he paused to swallow when you sucked harder around him in reaction to his invitation. “Come back next week if you have any problems or anything else you’d like to discuss.”

She hesitantly but respectfully said goodbye and was on her way, closing the door behind her.

Tom’s hands immediately shot down to hold your head, his mouth dropped open as he watched you, approaching his high. “Shit, that’s it darling that’s it. So fucking good for me.”

“I’m gonna cum––” he warned. You simply hummed around him and sped up your movements, feeling yourself clench as he panted, his hips bucking slightly as he came into your mouth. You unfortunately weren’t able to cum but you were sure there’d be other chances. You popped off of him and swallowed his load before licking up his length teasingly slow. “Fuck, such a good girl.”

He pulled his chair out and brought you up to stand between his legs, tiling his head to look up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs absentmindedly. “Was someone a little jealous?”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but failing to fix your annoyed facial expression. “Maybe.”

He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up, chuckling as he squeezed your cheek. “I’m yours.” He pecked your lips, before looking in your eyes, “And I’m most definitely repaying the favor when we get home. I mean––if you want to, of course.” Home. 

You couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah––Okay.” 

You’d never been to Tom’s house before so this felt like sort of a big deal to you, but you were going to try and calm your racing thoughts and heart. You and Tom agreed that you would go around the corner of the building for him to pick you up in his car, not wanting to risk anyone seeing you.

As soon as you were settled in, seatbelt on, Tom drove off and honestly the thrill of having to hide was exciting to the both of you. His hand was gripping your thigh throughout the whole drive and you could tell it was meant as a reminder that he was there for you, but also that he could barely contain himself. 

Seeing Tom drive you, the flashing street lights illuminating his face, highlighting his jawline, his hand gripping your thigh––this was a sight you knew you wanted to see more. The intimacy of it all made you warm inside and the feeling of Tom’s fingertips digging into your skin only riled you up further.

You leaned over to kiss his cheek and he smiled at the feeling of your soft lips drifting over his skin. “Darling––” His words were cut off by a harsh moan when you trailed your lips down to his sweet spot, the noise almost too loud for the quiet, tense air in the car.

You teased, licked and bit at his skin, not afraid to leave marks. It was Friday now, if anyone saw them on Monday, they would just assume he’d had an eventful weekend. Honestly, the thought that no one would know that you were the one who left those marks excited you––it would be a secret between you and Tom, a thing for the two of you to share on your own.

Tom’s hands were now gripping the wheel and your thigh with force, trying to get his bearings. “You’re being very naughty today, love. Can’t say that I don’t love it though.”

You smiled sinfully into his neck, continuing your actions. Your hand slid over his thigh teasingly slow to rest on his bulge, fingers squeezing ever so softly and he practically jolted in his seat. “Christ––love unless you want me to crash this car I suggest you stop.”

You pulled away, satisfied with how much you’d riled him up. He almost whined at the loss of contact, subconsciously upset that you’d actually stopped. But as your hand reached back down to find its place between your thighs, his tone shifted. 

“Don’t you dare touch what’s mine. That’s my job.”

You actually felt a shiver pass through your body and you squeezed your thighs together at the sound of his dominant voice, excited for what was to come.

When you made it to his apartment, you barely had time to take in the scenery and take off your shoes and jackets before he dragged you to his room. But from what you saw, the decor was simple but elegant, much like Tom. His bedroom was the same, but again, you weren’t too focused on it.

He turned on the dim light in his room, wanting to be able to see you as he pleased you. He stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your waist, looking deep into your eyes. “You still want this?” 

You nodded absolutely certain. “Want you to take me.”

His pupils dilated and he pulled your shirt up and over your head, licking his lips, eyes widening when he noticed what you were wearing and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Christ, were you wearing this all day?” 

You nodded again. “The underwear’s matching too. Wanna see?”

He got down on his knees, a teasing but desperate tone to his voice. “You’re a smart girl, don’t ask stupid questions.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down along with your socks, mouth dropping open as he got to see the full set. 

You ran your hands up and down your body teasingly as he stood up. “Do you like it?”

He shook his head, smiling in disbelief, “Again with the silly questions, love.” He leaned in to kiss you, pulling away to take off his clothes. “You look like a goddess, darling.” You could feel your skin heating up from his words and his stare. He pulled you in for another kiss before bringing you onto the bed.

You lied down in the middle and spread your legs, waiting for him eagerly as he lied down between them. “Can’t fucking wait to taste you, love.” 

He pulled your panties over to the side and licked into you, his tongue softly swiping through your folds. His eyes rolled back as he moaned into you, “Taste just as perfect as you look.” He slid his hands around your thighs and pulled you in closer, smiling at the small squeak you let out.

His tongue was exploring you, finding all the spots and all the tricks that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He was keeping this all to memory, memorizing the way you feel, the way you look. When your breaths quickened and your fingers tugged at his curls, he locked his arm around your stomach, slid one, then two fingers inside of you and sped up his movements, moving his head from side to side as he hummed onto your clit. 

Your body tensed and you held onto him for dear life as the knot in your stomach gave out, the pleasure spreading all throughout your body. Your mouth dropped open in ecstasy, your neck craning back and Tom couldn’t look away from you. You looked like a painting and he wanted to commit it to memory. 

He let go of you and kissed his way up your body, soothing you with his lips. Your legs were still twitching slightly, your stomach clenching and unclenching when his kisses reached your cheek. “Look so pretty when you come for me.” He kissed along your jaw, “Can’t believe you’ve deprived me of such a beautiful sight for so long.” He kissed your lips and tugged your bottom one between his teeth, before looking at you, eyes wide, “You gonna give me the privilege of seeing it again?” 

You smiled, your hands coming up to hold his cheeks. “You can see it whenever you want. As long as you’re the one making it happen.” You pulled him to you and kissed him, the both of you moaning into the small gaps between your mouths. 

He started to pull away but you whined and pulled him back making him smile. “I’ve gotta get a condom, love.”

He tried to get up again but you pulled him back down, “M’on the pill Tommy.” You looked up at him, pouting and he almost gasped––the effect you had on him was insane. “Just fuck me please.”

He didn’t need anymore convincing, grabbing a hold of his cock and swiping it through your folds, groaning out loud at how good your wetness felt. You bucked your hips and realizing you were getting desperate, he finally slid into you and all your senses immediately tuned into him. 

Just like your dream––All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. 

His eyes were watching your face, taking you in as he thrusted into you, making sure you were enjoying everything he was giving you. You felt absolutely amazing and so did he. “So perfect for me, darling. That’s it.” He bit his lip and sped up, making your jaw drop as you stared into his eyes, completely open and vulnerable to him. His touch was tantalizing, even better than your fantasies which only meant you’d become more addicted to him and what he could do to you.

He grunted, angling his hips when he found your spot, hitting it over and over, bringing his hand down to play with your clit. “Told you I wanted to see you cum again, pretty girl. So you’re gonna cum then I’m gonna fill you up. That sound okay?”

You nodded eagerly, eyes watching his every move as your hands gripped his arms, your thighs burning invitingly as they stretched around him with every thrust. Then you uttered that one word that always had him almost inappropriately weak for you. “Want to be full of you, professor.”

His jaw slacked and he paused for a slight moment before picking up his pace, faster than before, hips chasing after both your highs, fingers still rubbing you just the way he learned, just the way you liked. “Fuck-–”

A few more thrusts and flicks of his wrist and you were tensing under him, your pussy clenching around him as he let out broken curses and moans, losing his rhythm and releasing into you with a groan. 

He rested some of his weight on you for a moment, the both of you smiling and laughing breathlessly as you took in the moment. Your hands came up to play with his curls and he sighed, leaning into your touch. He lowered his head into the crook of your neck and left a few soft kisses, coaxing some sighs from you as well.  

After a moment, he rolled over and took you with him, making you nuzzle further into him, his arm wrapped around you, your leg slung over his waist. His hand was rubbing up to your ass and down to your thigh, lulling you to sleep while simultaneously riling you up again. 

He kissed your forehead and you kissed his chest in response. “That was fucking amazing, love.”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, “Even better than my dreams.”

He pulled back to look at you, you could hear his heartbeat quicken and you tried to hide your face in his chest. “You had dreams about this too?”

That made you lift your head up to look at him. You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t joking but you were still slightly shocked. “Too?”

He smiled, licking his lips, “Well maybe we should discuss them, and try them out for ourselves.” His hand found its way between your legs again, making you moan but that didn’t stop you from responding.

You nodded, “For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course.” He grinned, “See, I knew I taught you well.” He leaned in to kiss you deeply, “My girl’s the perfect student.” 

You spent hours exploring each other's bodies as you reenacted your dreams, both exceeding each other's expectations every time. By the time you fell asleep in each other's arms, it was late at night and you were sweaty, and tired, but overwhelmingly pleased.

❊❊❊❊

The next Friday, it was halloween. Liz had somehow convinced you to go to a halloween party with her. On top of that it was a frat party. And even worse, you dressed up as a school girl because it was all last minute and you didn’t have any time to get a costume. 

“Oh come on Y/N, you look hot!”

You turned in the full length mirror to look at your ass that was almost visible in this mini skirt. “You think so?”

“Duh.”

And that’s all the convincing you needed to go out. You needed a little college fun. You hadn’t been to a party in who knows how long because you were always focusing on your work. You deserved this. Also Liz said it was a celebration of your “lay”, yes, she said lay. 

“I’m just saying you cannot let me get with him again.”

“Liz it’s literally his frat house that we’re going to and we both know you have little to no self control.”

“Well damn. You couldn’t have sugar coated it?”

“What, you want me to throw a packet of splenda on you?” You joked.

She shoved you, “Dude shut up,” she laughed.

You looked down at your bare thighs that were only partly covered by your thigh high socks and rubbed your arms, regretting not bringing a jacket when Liz spoke up again. “Oh shit, is that Professor Holland?”

Your eyes shot up and made direct eye contact with him. He was wearing a hoodie and some sweats but he still looked great as usual. His eyes trailed down your body and soon your shivers were no longer because of the cold. 

“I’ll just wait here.” Liz said suggestively and you walked over to Tom. 

“H–Hi.”

He put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch you, he didn’t know who was around. “Well hello to you too.” He looked into your eyes, a smirk on his face. You rubbed your arms quickly for warmth, and Tom had to control himself to not look at your chest, even though he could see your nipples hardening from the weather through your shirt. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and take you home. 

“Any plans?” You asked.

“No, I'm just about to go home. I’m uh guessing you have somewhere to be?” His eyes traced your figure again.

“Yeah um me and Liz are going to a frat party.” You pointed back to your friend and gave him a small smile and shrug. “She convinced me.”

He wanted to kiss you so bad but he had to restrain himself.

“Be safe tonight, yeah?” His eyes were comforting, as they always were, but this felt almost more personal? Almost like he didn’t want you to go. And honestly, after seeing him, you almost didn’t want to either. You never defined your relationship with him, so honestly right now he was like a friend with benefits––professor with benefits, if you will. 

You nodded, licking your lips nervously. “O––Okay. I will. You be safe too!”

His eyes followed you as you walked off, your friend pulling you along, obviously whispering to you, probably about him. You looked so fucking good and everyone else was going to see that too. It’s not like he owned you or anything, but part of him really wished he could claim you, openly care for you and be affectionate. His thoughts were a mix of wholesome and raunchy and he had no idea how to act.

He almost felt wrong but he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind, the way you looked up at him sheepishly, the innocent look in your eyes while you were wearing that mini skirt. His cock was bulging in his boxers ever since he first laid eyes on you. When he got home, he made his way to his bed, undressing almost immediately. Lying down in the middle of the bed, just where you were days before brought a flood of memories into his mind, only making his member throb even more. He tugged at his cock, spitting in his hand to make it slick.

Images of you were flashing in his mind as he sped up his movements, desperate for a release. 

He was dying to get a taste of you again. The memory of the way you felt under his fingertips, the way your muscles clenched when he hit the right spots. The way you tasted when you were dripping onto his tongue. The way you looked at him when you came, your lips parted to release broken moans and whimpers. The way your fingers gripped his curls as your body tensed. It was all enough to make him spill over his hand, his breaths coming out in quick pants as his head dropped back onto the pillow.

“Fuck.” He really had it bad for you. 

❊❊❊❊

Tom had texted you during class on Tuesday to meet him in his office when you were done with classes for the day. When you stepped into the room, he locked the door immediately, bringing you over to his desk, his lips chasing yours. Screw worrying about people hearing you, he wanted you. Now. 

“God, just seeing you in that tight little costume––you have no idea how badly I wanted to ravish you. The thought of all those dumb frat boys seeing you in all your glory like that––I was absolutely beside myself.” So that’s what this was about. His hand came up to hold your cheek, his eyes fiercely staring into yours and you nuzzled into his touch, your hand holding his wrist softly and his eyes softened at the sight of you.

“I’m gonna absolutely devour you.” You gasped and he smiled, pulling your pants along with panties down. He sat you down on his desk and got down on his knees, licking his lips. “As soon as I got a taste of you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go without it ever again.” He kissed your thigh, looking up at you. “You gonna let me have a taste again? Wanna make you feel good, lovie.”

You nodded, swallowing roughly, “Y––Yeah. Yes please.”

He chuckled breathlessly, “Such a polite little thing you are.” He kissed his way from your inner thigh to your center before licking a torturously slow stripe from your hole to your clit. You let out a sigh and gripped the desk, your fingertips becoming lighter at how hard you were already holding it.

His hands held your thighs open, putting them over his shoulders, holding you in place. His tongue was languidly licking you up and down, savoring your taste and your moans, coaxing them out of you one by one, nonstop. He looked up at you and your breath got caught in your throat, the look in his eyes fierce, almost as if he could see your bare soul and he clearly liked what he saw. He brought his lips to close around your heat after every other swipe of his tongue, passionately kissing your heat. 

“So fucking good, angel. Always the best for me.”

You nodded, licking your lips, one of your hands coming to grab at his curls, making him growl into you. “Only for you, Tommy.”

He didn’t stop his tongue or his lips until you came, your back arching, fingers frantically grabbing for whatever you could hold, lip trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans that so desperately wanted to escape into the quiet air of the room. He kept going until you had to pull his head away from you, overwhelmed by all the pleasure and scared that you would scream and alert everyone in the building about what you were up to.

His hands were caressing your thighs, eyes looking at you in awe, almost too innocently for what you’d just done. He stood up between your legs and leaned in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and his lips. 

He pulled away to look at you, hands holding your hips as your legs wrapped around his waist. You brought your arms up to link around his neck, looking up at him appreciatively and absolutely spent. “So do you think I should wear school girl outfits more often?”

He laughed, his hands holding you tighter, “If you do, my head is never leaving between your thighs.”

You smiled cheekily, batting your lashes at him. “Promise?”

He’d never gotten down on his knees quicker in his life. Let’s just say it took you another hour before you left his office.

 ❊❊❊❊

Over the past few weeks it had become a routine for you to go over to Tom’s office to seemingly “work on your assignments and review,” so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to show up unannounced Friday afternoon. Without meaning to, though, it seemed you showed up a little too early, and ended up overhearing part of Tom and Harrison’s conversation. 

“I can tell Y/N means a lot to you, mate. Don’t lie.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you skidded just in front of the door, about to turn the corner inside. You backed up and stayed pressed to the wall. Luckily no one really stopped by this side of the building at this time on a Friday, so no one would find you snooping around in the middle of the hallway. 

“No I just––”

No. He said no––Okay you weren’t going to freak out. This always happens in the movies, and then the main character runs away before hearing the most important part and they overreact. So you decided to just...wait it out. 

So you waited and waited. And the more the silence overwhelmed you, the louder it got. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes because you really thought your feelings were mutual. But just as you inched your foot backwards to walk away, he spoke up again, his voice quiet. 

“She means everything to me, man. I––It scares me, honestly. I just don’t want to mess it up.” 

This time the tears fully formed in your eyes, but for the absolute opposite reason. You smiled and wiped at your eyes, not even bothering to hide anymore as you turned the corner, surprising Tom, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. Harrison turned around to see you and his gaze filled with concern as well. 

“Tom––” your voice was quiet but there was a smile on your face. 

“Darling––” He rushed over to you and grabbed your hands, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs to catch the few tears that escaped. “What’s wrong, are you alright?”

Your hands came up to hold his wrists as you looked into his eyes, “I heard you talking.” 

His face dropped in realization and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. 

Harrison cleared his throat and subtly made his way out, “You guys have some things to discuss.” He put a hand on your shoulder and you both smiled at each other appreciatively before he walked out, shutting the door behind him. 

Tom took your hands and brought you over to the couch. “I hope I didn’t scare you off, love.”

You shook your head immediately, even climbing in his lap to prove him wrong and he smiled gratefully. “No! It’s just that we never really talked, you know, about us.” He nodded and you took that as a sign to continue, enjoying the way his hands subconsciously slipped under your shirt to rub at your skin soothingly. “I like you Tom, obviously. But I like you a lot.” You linked your hands behind his neck. “I think I might be falling for you.”

His eyes started tearing up as well, as he smiled, “Yeah well, I think I’ve already fallen for you, darling.” 

You looked into his eyes and your smile brightened, “Okay maybe I lied––I’ve definitely already fallen for you as well.”

You both laughed lovingly, pulling each other in for a sweet kiss.“Look,” Tom started, licking his lips. “I don’t know what this means for our future, but all I know is I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.” 

You kissed his lips softly, “Well I don’t plan on leaving any time soon either.” 

“Good.” He looked at you and you felt as though your soul was out and open for him to hold and love. “Cause you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N and I don’t ever want to lose you.” 

You could feel your eyes tearing up again. This felt good. This felt like home.

[aminiatureworld]

Interest II

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,020

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometimes emotions can be confusing. In those times it can be easier to shut down. After all, wouldn’t finding the truth out be scarier?

In which the reader assumes their character is disinterested, and pulls away.

Author’s Note: I wrote a lot tonight! It was nice to write for multiple characters again, made me feel like the good old days, or something. 

Hope I’m finally getting back on schedule and hope you enjoy!

Kaeya

If Kaeya flirted with you, he also flirted with all of Mondstadt; or so you kept telling yourself.

You liked the cavalry captain, you liked him a lot. It was easy to like him, as easy as breathing air. The thickets of romance, the awkward looks, the stilted conversations, the dying words. None of those things existed in Kaeya.

If there were roses there were thorns too, and though you tried to convince yourself that this emotion, this easiness was something good, there was a part of you that fought back at the idea. The reason things were so easy with Kaeya was because of one simple reason. He didn’t like you. Or not the way you liked him. Kaeya flirted with all of Mondstadt after all, and you were merely one library assistant in the middle of an entire country. Your existence wasn’t one for the history books. Not compared to the man that you’d managed to fall hopelessly in love with anyways.

At first you tried to ignore those voices, that cynical side of yourself that existed only, it seemed, to make you unhappy. You weren’t necessarily an optimist by nature, but you were a bit of a hopeless romantic, and flirting or not you at least hoped to get your point across. Delivering Kaeya’s library requests first, always going up to him at lunchtime to talk, even giving him a special gift for the Windbloom festival. You really did try, you didn’t think that the opposite could be argued. Still things continued on as relatively normal however, Kaeya’s flirting never seeming to grow particularly towards you. Eventually it became harder and harder to avoid the voice in your head sneering you were wasting your time. Or maybe you were just tired.

Either way the answer seemed to be obvious. You knew when the answer was to count your losses and move on, and surely this was one of those times. Kaeya wasn’t going to see you as a partner, he just wasn’t. That didn’t mean he wasn’t kind, or that your conversations with him weren’t lovely, or even that you weren’t still in love with him. Still, wasn’t it time to move on to kinder winds? You wanted a clean break, wanted an end to your painful waiting; didn’t want to experience that clench in your heart when you watched Kaeya flirting with someone else as the point just drove further and further home. You wanted reprieve, and the only way to do that was to admit the obvious. This wasn’t going to happen.

So you gave up, or did your best attempt at giving up. You still spoke to Kaeya, the gods knew you probably couldn’t stand not speaking to him. You still tried to keep as light as before, tried to retain the dynamic, for something was better than nothing. Yet your days of simply chasing after him were over, and as you settled into you schedule of new normalcy you found, though things weren’t necessarily easier, at least they seemed simpler. Besides, how much had really changed? Kaeya most likely didn’t notice.

“Kaeya, the manuscript you requested on Liyue trade history came in yesterday. There were also a few other things that came in, though Lisa told me they’re classified.”

“Oh Lisa, always a stickler for rules. Would you like to know what I requested?”

“Like you would actually tell me,” you snorted. “No, I’m fine. It’s none of my business.”

“Aw,” Kaeya pouted slightly, crossing his arms in front of him. He seemed to be doing that more often these days, though maybe you were simply imagining it. “Where’s your sense of adventure darling? You seemed to have lost it somewhere.”

“I’m just following rules,” you pointed out.

Something had shifted about the conversation at some point, and you were suddenly feeling an undercurrent that hadn’t been there before. Finding it uncomfortable you quickly removed the space between you and Kaeya, reaching out to place the brown paper wrapped books into his hands. Taking them Kaeya lifted an eyebrow. Turning around he went to put them on his desk.

The momentary reprieve in atmosphere you felt quickly died, as before you had time to turn around the cavalry captain was back, this time leaning closely towards you.

“What is it?” You asked. This was certainly Kaeya behavior, but it still startled you nonetheless.

“You’re acting funny.”

“What? I’m acting completely normal.”

“If you say so.”

But the tone conveyed that Kaeya didn’t agree one bit. A smirk painting his lips he turned around, though something bitter seemed to flash behind his eyes, and for a moment you wondered if he had somehow caught on to the secret you’d been hoping to keep to yourself.

After that things seemed to continue on as normal for a few weeks. If Kaeya’s books were secretly transgressive, they certainly weren’t doing anything actively, and life as an assistant librarian to the Knights of Favonius retained its languid, unhurried pace. Still a part of you had never forgotten about that weird snippet of conversation, one which was doing a surprisingly good job at eating away at you.

You were almost relieved when Kaeya brought the matter up again.

“Is something wrong darling?”

“You asked me that two weeks ago Kaeya.”

“Really? It’s been that long? I must be neglecting my duties,” he let out a careless sort of laugh, before his eyes steadied. “I was hoping that this time I might get a more honest answer.”

“So you think I’m lying to you when I’m saying nothing’s wrong?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not! How could I be lying to both you and myself.”

“I find that doing such a thing is a surprisingly easy task. Nevertheless, even if you aren’t lying, there is something wrong.”

“And what would that thing be, Mr. Expert?” For some reason this conversation was aggravating you. Maybe because you couldn’t decide whether or not he was right.

“I don’t know, I was hoping you could tell me. I can’t say sorry for something I’m not aware of, I don’t know what I did. You do though. So the sooner you tell me what’s wrong the sooner things can go back to normal.”

“What do you mean by normal Kaeya? If anything this is more normal. Not that things have changed that much. I’m sorry I don’t deliver your books first, if that’s what you’re complaining about. But frankly, I don’t see what you’re so upset about? You’ve got plenty of other friends, so why are you complaining to me?”

Maybe it wasn’t your best use of logic, but your ability to circle around the focus of the conversation, the unspoken emotions that still burned through you, was somewhat lacking.

“This is not normal. I’m not talking about library books, I’m talking about friends. Or maybe avoidance. You’ve been avoiding me lately, even if you aren’t doing it completely. It wounds me, you know. My dearest companion, what did I do to earn their ire?”

“You did nothing.”

“That’s obviously a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“It is,” Kaeya voice was clipped, matching your same tone. Even now he was shifting himself to better fit the atmosphere in the room, something you normally valued so deeply.

“It’s not. It’s really not! That’s the problem Kaeya, don’t you see?” Tears that had threated the corners of your eyes were now burning across your vision, as your emotions finally broke through the paltry excuse for a dam you’d been building. “You’ve done nothing, you’ve never done anything. You’re always nice, and flirty, and a bit shameless. And that’s fine! It’s not your fault that you don’t feel like I feel for you. I don’t want to make you feel guilty. You flirt with everyone, and that’s fine. I don’t care! I really don’t. I don’t want to burden you. Still, can’t you just let me feel upset by it? Can’t you just let me give up? Do you know how painful it is not to give up? Why won’t you let me at least do that, but no! Instead you come in here talking about how everything’s different, as if I’ve offended you, or as if you worry would change anything. Of course it won’t! And it shouldn’t! But damn it Kaeya, I just want to be upset!”

By this time Kaeya had closed the space between you two, wrapping his arms around you and running soft, slightly cool, fingers through your hair. You nestled into him, despite yourself. You were so tired and so angry, and right now it didn’t really seem to matter who you cried on as long as you were crying on someone. Letting yourself be carried away by your emotions you let your ragged breathing unleash itself inside the walls of Kaeya’s office.

Eventually you calmed down. Though you expected Kaeya to step away when your breathing evened out, instead he remained there, continuing to run comforting fingers though you hair, his other hand gently cradling your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that was the reason.” It was simple, direct. Undeniably Kaeya.

“What else would be the reason,” you grumbled.

“I don’t know. It’s why I asked. Thank you for answering me.”

“You forced me into it.” There was no true venom behind your words. You were sure Kaeya knew that.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Not yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“That’s alright. Now’s not the best time anyways, since I ought to look my best. Not that I don’t look amazing already, but I should dress up for an occasion such as that. Still, I hope that eventually you’ll allow yourself to live in a way that doesn’t make you unhappy. Sometimes we can’t do that. This time you can.”

“Maybe.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting for you darling, and you know how impatient I am.”

“What if you have to wait for a long time?” You were feeling quite contrary.

“Then I’ll wait. After all, I’ll have quite the reward for my patience.”

You smiled into Kaeya. Despite yourself, you knew it wouldn’t be that long.

 Xiao

With Xiao, the question was always boundaries. How far is too far? How far is not far enough? It was an endless maze, even if it was a maze you would gladly continue to explore, sure that the light at the end must lead to something truly beautiful. Still, you didn’t exactly need your emotions to come in and complicate something already so difficult to navigate.

At first you tired to ignore, to take a page from the book the yaksha you’d so hopelessly fallen for had written. Yet if was much harder than it ought to be, for loving Xiao seemed to come as naturally as breathing, and no amount of looking for faults seemed to be doing much to change that. After all, everyone has faults, and nothing could change the innate goodness you saw in Xiao, the wonder and light that he carried with him, despite his millennia of hardships.

At first you thought to tell him, to cross that border, find that boundary and test it with all the patience it had taken to test and cross those other boundaries.

“Xiao?”

“Mmm.”

“I, I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“I, I made you some Almond Tofu!”

Xiao let his eyes widen with characteristic surprise, before leaping down nimbly from his perch to take the dish you brought out from behind your back. You watched as he ate it happily, warmth running through your veins. Nevertheless a part of you cried in frustration, perhaps even pain, for you knew you had failed to do what you had set out to do.

It wasn’t simply that you feared losing Xiao’s friendship, feared losing his respect. It was the boundaries, those invisible lines you were so careful not to step over. Xiao needed those boundaries, you knew he did. Though he had told you very little about his past, what he had told was horrific, and you hardly doubted that Xiao’s survival, his failure to spin into madness, was because of those walls he’d carefully constructed around himself. You wanted him to shed those walls yes, to slowly emerge from the darkness which he held around himself. But you weren’t ready to push him to do so, or not very much at least. It wasn’t truly in your nature to do so anyways.

So you expressed your feelings as best you could, with tofu and flowers and all the kindness you had to offer. When you weren’t working, spending your time sewing for a high-end Liyue shop, you were with Xiao. A part of you assumed that it would be enough, that if you gave Xiao enough of your time and enough of your attention the barriers would magically break down. One day you’d wake up and they’d be gone and you’d be happy, having never pushed things too far.

As nothing truly seemed to change however you grew slowly discouraged. You weren’t really aware of your flagging hopes, not really. It was more that you were busy, you were so busy. Besides, Xiao hadn’t expressed much sadness over losing your company. Perhaps he was secretly relieved, perhaps you had pushed too far at some point and he hadn’t told you. Maybe it was best that you give his boundaries time, and not push it too far.

Even looking back it was hard not to call the logic sound, or at least sound to you. In some ways you and Xiao were cut of the same cloth, and though that brought with it an understanding, it also brought its own set of issues. Neither of you were willing to walk over the line that the other drew, even if you could not see where they had actually drawn it. Even if not doing so was painful, the fear of what pain might come if you did was too great a discouragement.

So you began to slowly fade away, without being entirely aware that you were indeed doing so. You were busy after all, and Xioa was most likely too. He was still a yaksha after all, a being whose life was almost completely disconnected from your own. Surely it wouldn’t be that surprising if his views were similar? Maybe you truly had crossed a line, and that was why he never seemed to enquire after you. Or maybe it was that you hadn’t mattered all that much in the first place.

It was a wet, cold autumn day. You sighed slightly as you unlocked your door, having gotten drenched by protecting a bold of fabric you were bringing home to cut and pin. Letting out a huff, you opened the door and went to take a nap. You must’ve been tired, for it took a few seconds for the screech of surprise to leave you mouth at the sight of the unexpected intruder waiting for you.

“Xiao! You scared me!”

You stared at the yaksha, very much surprised by the sight of him. Your surprise had very little time to register though, being quickly replaced by concern for the storm so clearly gathering in Xiao’s eyes.

“You were gone for so long.”

“I’m sorry Xiao. It’s just been so busy you know, everyone’s preparing for the change in season. Besides…”

“Besides?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I mean, I know you also have a job, and though I want you to find happiness outside of it, I don’t want to pressure you.”

Xiao’s facial expressions evidently conveyed that he was not impressed. Searching for the right words you let your gaze drift towards the floor. You weren’t sure that you were ever going to be ready for a conversation like this, but certainly not in the state you were now. Still, you owed Xiao some sort of explanation. Of course you did.

“I’m really sorry Xiao. I should have found time for you. It’s completely my fault.”

“That’s not what I want.” Xiao’s tone was gruff, frustrated. You found the frustration mirrored within yourself.

“What do you want?”

“I,” Xiao flushed. “I don’t want you to apologize. I’m not blaming you for anything. You shouldn’t apologize for nothing.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

Xiao shook his head. For a moment he just stood there, eyes stormy. Slowly though he reached out to take your hand. You found the act surprisingly comforting. You had missed Xiao’s hands, delicately built, calloused beyond believe. They felt comforting and warm and safe, and you wished you could never let go of them. Drawing strength from that you slowly raised your gaze slightly.

“What do you want, Xiao?”

At first Xiao said nothing. Perhaps he was staring at a line, contemplating whether to cross it. You had half the mind to apologize again, but managed to stop the words from coming out. You knew that it was just a force of habit. Besides, Xiao hadn’t said anything yet. A small spark of hope burned inside you, the hope that something might go well.

There was a gentle tug on your wrist and suddenly you were in Xiao’s arms, his hair gently tickling your nose.

“This,” he mumbled. “I want this.”

For a moment you felt yourself freeze in shock, but soon enough you found yourself melting into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around him. Xiao was warm like a heater, warm beyond that too. It was as if there was something in his soul. Gentle, flickering, it brought you happiness that you never thought you could imagine. You wanted to bask in it forever, it was worth any twists and turns you might have to take to reach it.

“Don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t.”

“I should have come earlier.”

“It’s alright. Hey, Xiao?”

“What?” Xiao’s arms tightened around you slightly. You didn’t want to talk much more either.

“What do you think of me?”

Xiao let out a soft snort. “I thought that was pretty obvious.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

It was more than you could have ever hoped for.

[malfoysstilinski]

Hello love, I absolutely adore your writing. <3 Could you maybe do a tooth-rotting dracoxreader fluff. It can be anything, I just love soft draco sm haha. Tbh I feel like theres no such thing as too much soft draco asjdkhfask.

thank you so much!! hope this is okay :)) 

post shower | draco malfoy (fluff) 

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: you like picking out draco’s clothes for him and playing with his hair after he’s had a shower. and he’ll never admit it, but he likes it too.

warnings: extremely healthy relationship and soft!draco

word count: 1.9k

a/n: there’s a part where draco plays with your hair and i’m sorry if it’s not inclusive to yours (curly, afro-textured, braided etc.), i generally try to keep my imagines inclusive but this idea was just stuck in my head!! it’s quite brief but i thought i’d acknowledge that i realise some poc readers and others with curly hair just might not be able to relate and i’m really sorry about that!! :( but again, it doesn’t make up the whole imagine! <33

also not proof-read!! 

....

18.00. my dorm. prepare for cuddles.

my mother sent over some more of

those sweets you said you liked.

yours, draco

The ripped piece of parchment in your hand included an inked sketch beneath it; the image of a wrapped sweetie surrounded by some scribbled-out love hearts. Your heart skipped a beat at the message written in Draco’s usual rushed cursive, a small smile threatening to twitch at the corners of your lips. Glancing up towards the direction the charmed crane had come in, you sent the blond boy already watching you a small nod of confirmation.

A wink was your reward before he turned back to face Professor Snape at the front of the classroom. It made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies as you wondered how you’d ended up with a boyfriend as perfect as Draco Malfoy.

Not many would theorise that he was a secret romantic, but then again, not many truly knew Draco for who he actually was. You adored him - the way he looked, the way he smelled, how he loved you, his voice, his laugh, his jokes, and his sarcastic comments. If there was one person on the planet guaranteed to make you smile, it was the Malfoy heir.

You were thrilled to be invited back to his dorm, even if this was quite a regular occurrence that you probably should be more used to by now. The thought of spending the evening after a long day of lessons with Draco cuddled up on his bed eating sweets sent by his mother sounded like a dream come true. There was no other way you’d rather spend your time.

The rest of the day couldn’t have gone by slower, though. You finished your classes and then skipped dinner to shower, knowing you’d be stuffing your face later anyway. By the time you’d slipped on comfier clothes than your school uniform and had dried your hair, it was nearly time for you to head to Draco’s dormitory. He was lucky enough to have his own one as a prefect, with a huge bed and silk green sheets that felt amazing against your skin.

You did some last minute homework for your Herbology class in the morning, though your mind seemed to constantly drag back to your boyfriend. He was like some sort of drug and you clearly had an addiction.

Perhaps the best part was that the love she had for Draco was mirrored back onto her by the boy; their love was a redamancy to be jealous of. Students and teachers alike could see the adoration in their eyes when they looked at each other. They saw the grin on your face and the slight blush on Draco’s cheeks and knew that if what you two had wasn’t love, then love didn’t exist at all.

You had your ups and downs, of course you did. No relationship was ever always perfect. However, it was the way you were constantly able to bounce back and be stronger than before that kept the fire burning between the two of you. It was the way that Draco had worked on his communication, knowing it was the only way he’d be able to keep you, and how you’d worked on being more patient with him that meant the two of you could fall so indescribably in love.

So when you turned up to Draco’s dormitory at exactly 6 pm sharp, you opened the door without knocking, more than certain he wouldn’t mind. He never did. However, Draco was nowhere to be seen in his room. You thought maybe you’d managed to read the note wrong until you heard the running water coming from his bathroom.

You smiled to yourself as you headed towards his bed, dropping on top of the silky sheets you loved so much, your fingers tracing on top of it. Your ears strained to listen out for Draco, a deep hum filling your ears that you knew belonged to him. He had a good singing voice, but he refused to believe it whenever you told him.

You closed your eyes and listened as he hummed in the shower, his voice echoing off the walls in a way that had you wishing you could not only listen but watch him sing it. You weren’t sure when Draco stopped humming or when the water shut off, but the next thing you knew, the bathroom door was opening, steam rolling out as well as the scent of his green apple shampoo.

“Ah, darling,” Draco greeted upon seeing you lying on his bed.

You sat up, beaming at him. A white towel hung around his hips, his platinum hair wet on his head and dripping down his broad shoulders onto his platinum skin. You thought he looked beautiful like this, like some sort of God you’d like to worship. Especially with the smile that he wore upon his face, one that was reserved for you and you only.

“Hi, my love,” you said back, watching as he began to hunt through his drawers for something to wear. “You said six.”

“I must have lost track of time,” Draco admitted, “Cold days are meant for hot showers, you know.”

“No, cold days are meant for cuddles with your girlfriend,” you protested, but nevertheless scooted off the bed to join him by his dresser. “What are you gonna wear?”

“Y’wanna dress me up again, don’t you?” Draco acted as if he was annoyed, but a smile was threatening to tug at his lips.

“It’ll be cosy, ‘promise,” you replied, your hands moving through his dresser, hunting for the pair of black jogging bottoms that you liked on him. “Top or no?”

“No,” Draco replied as he stood in front of his mirror, towel drying his hair.

You found a pair of socks for him too, knowing how he hated if his feet got cold. As Draco cast a charm to dry his blond locks, you settled everything on the end of his bed for him and then began hunting through his drawers once more. You found one of his black tees and pulled your own off, shrugging his on instead.

Arms wrapped around your waist as soon as it went over your head and you shrieked as you were hauled onto his bed. You laughed as Draco suddenly crawled between your legs so he was straddling you a little, his fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Did I say you could wear that, pretty girl?” Draco fauxed a glare.

“Please,” you pouted at him. “It’s comfy and smells so good. Like you.”

Draco rolled his eyes in amusement, smiling again as he kissed your forehead. “You’re lucky you’re so gorgeous. Can’t say no when you pull that face, can I?”

You beamed, feeling your cheeks heat up a little bit. You realised Draco had already pulled the joggers and socks on, his top half naked as he moved to grab his comb off of the dresser.

“Let me do it for you,” you said, holding your hand out.

Draco shot you a look. “Not a doll for you to dress up, you know.”

“‘Just wanna comb your hair for you,” you huffed, sitting on the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over the mattress.

Draco moved to stand in between them, your face level with his body as he began to brush the comb through the back of your own hair. Smiling, you leaned your head against his stomach, wrapping your arms around his middle and enjoying the sensations and tingles that Draco brushing your hair spread through your body.

Your eyes closed and you swore you could fall asleep like it - one of his large palms on your back, his comb brushing through your hair, the warmth of his toned stomach against your cheek and the smell of his aftershave and body wash fresh in your senses.

“You washed your hair, didn’t you?” Draco hummed, his hand moving off your back as he ditched the comb, his fingers playing with it.

“Yeah, had a shower before I came here,” you murmured, not peeling your eyes open, just relishing in the feeling of complete relaxation with your favourite person in the entire world.

“I can tell,” Draco murmured, his fingers gliding effortlessly through your newly-combed hair. “Your hair is really soft after washing it.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling a little against him. “That’s kind of the point of washing your hair, you know.”

“No, it’s to keep it clean,” Draco protested.

“It’s for both,” you compromised, knowing how stubborn he could get quickly. “Now can I comb your hair.”

About a minute later, Draco’s room was playing music quietly and he was slouched between your legs on the bed, the bag of sweets his mother had bought you both on his lap. Your back rested against the headboard behind you, your hands brushing through his silky platinum locks. You put the comb down, beginning to part his hair into tiny sections.

“Sweet?” Draco offered, his mouth full as he lifted his arm behind himself.

He felt you lean forwards and capture the sweet between your teeth from where your hands were occupied in his hair, making him chuckle. Draco knew you were making small plaits with the longer sections of his hair, but he closed his eyes and pretended he had no idea. To be honest, he cherished the feeling of you being so close to him, of your hands in his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp every now and then.

“Feels good?” You hummed, glancing down at him and seeing that his silver eyes had shut.

They flickered back open at your question, smiling when he saw you looking down at him. “A bit,” he admitted, which was an under exaggeration. He loved it.

“‘Nother sweetie, please,” you called as you moved onto your third tiny plait.

Draco’s hand came back over and fed the sweet straight into your mouth. You giggled as you carried on plaiting, humming lightly to yourself. A tug a little harder than the rest caused Draco to dramatically cry out.

“Ow!” Draco hissed, “Watch what you’re doing, woman!”

“Shh, I’m just braiding your hair,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “And if you call me woman like that one more time I will shove this comb so far up your arse-”

“Okay, okay,” Draco winced at the imagery. “By woman I meant ‘my lovely, beautiful, sweet, kind, intelligent girlfriend who I love with my whole heart’.”

“You’re such a kiss arse, Malfoy,” you replied, running your hand over the small plaits you’d created. “They look cute. You should grow your hair out like your father so I can do really good ones-”

“Y/N!” Draco grimaced, “If I ever grow my hair out as long as my fathers, feel free to cut it off for me in the middle of the night.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you cradled his head in your lap, your nails lightly scratching his skin. “Okay, okay. I like you with this haircut anyway. And I like the lack of gel in it. Looks so fluffy and cute.”

“Not what I’m going for, but thanks, darling,” Draco remarked, grabbing another sweet for himself. “You’re comfy, by the way.”

You simply hummed back as you began to undo the plaits, knowing Draco would be annoyed if you forgot and he had little curly bits in the morning. You grazed your fingers back through, watching his eyes flicker back.

“I love you,” Draco murmured sincerely. “So much.”

Your heart swelled. “I love you too, Draco.”

taglist: @lolooo22 @yyoflam @fjorelaant @cpetrova @bby-gxrnet @draysslytherclaw @dawnmalfoy @miarivic @hpotter3390 @justfangirlthingies @fleurwands @hufflepuffsophie @riddleswh0r3crux @dracosathenaeum @weaselbrownie @Dracoscumwh0re @miraclesoflove @wh0re4blaise @ilovemoviekidd826 @drarrysimp @secret-obsessions @writeandtranslate @aetheralist @wholebigboxofyikes @honeyloverogers @icecubewhat @edithreads @abbott27 @Sweetvnlla @skaratjung @dlmmdl @sw33tgirl @ayaosk @acosmis-t @astoria-malfcy 

[leviiattacks]

CASHIER LEVI AND LIKE THE READER IS THE CUSTOMER AND IT’S LIKE THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON EACHTOHER

author note :: honestly not my best at all..... like at all..... this was actually pretty good but the entire draft got deleted and i just lost all my effort but i felt bad for starting it and not completing it for anon so you may take whatever i have managed to salvage. i hope u enjoy it :’( i am extremely sick rn and yeah writing is the only break i am currently getting from anything :-) SO AGAIN I’ M SORRY ANON..... i may write a 10k + word fic on this though so i can redeem myself bc this is just disappointing 😭

word count :: 3.3k

every single thursday you stop by ackermart. maybe it’s because the day is convenient for you or perhaps it’s because of a certain cashier that works the evenings...

HAHA it’s got nothing to do with a cashier why would it have anything to do with a cashier? :-)

today is like any other. you walk through the fresh produce aisle then proceed to make your way towards the bakery section picking up a loaf of bread

it’s stupid, you know it is but... you think you’ve worked up enough courage to speak to him today!!

and who is him you may ask?

levi at till number four. his tired eyes always happen to pierce into yours and his calloused thumbs brush past your skin when you hand him your rewards card

levi is what his bright red name tag says and although he doesn’t look like a levi you’d like to think your crush isn’t stealing someone’s identity so you believe that it’s his real name

anxiously fiddling with your basket you’re beginning to think this was a horrible idea

the girl ahead of you is flirting up a storm with him and although he’s not reciprocating it by any means you still feel deterred

levi bags the last of her groceries and looks up at her when she asks for a way to contact him. he doesn’t look mad... just bored?

“ma’am. this is an ackermart i don’t think it’s appropriate you ask me for my number. the customer service line is listed on our website.”

the woman raises a brow looking completely flabbergasted. okay, if everything before this wasn’t a warning THIS sure was

she stomps off when she realises levi isn’t kidding and you think you’d feel bad for her maybe if she was more respectful about it

“next customer.” levi calls over his shoulder and you shuffle forward pretending to be engrossed in your phone

“cash or card?” he asks plainly.

you hear the BEEP of your groceries being scanned and think on it for a while before replying with “cash”

you’re clearly pretty good at your pretend to be totally into your phone act because levi tries to get your attention but you don’t hear what he has to say till the third time he repeats himself

but even then you’re still unsure what it is he’s said????

looking down you see his hand is stuck out in front of you and now you’re even more confused

faltering for a second you look at his palm and then speak

“um, i guess your hand is nice? it’s pretty big compared to the rest of you actually.”

“i was asking for your cash?” he says and now you look at his palms in mortification

gasping you yANK your hand into your purse as you laugh awkwardly fishing around to find your money

“oh, OH i knew that. just kidding!! i mean- i meant that thing about your hand?? but i thought it was- i funny? yes the joke funny? i’m-”

he leans back into his spinning chair and sighs contently. “you’re not making much sense peaches.”

“pe- peaches??” you repeat. no way you’ve heard that correct

levi lazily points at the abundance of the aforementioned fruit in your grocery bags

“you must love em.”

“i, well yeah i do like peaches but i also like...” um??? what food would make you look sophisticated and professional?

OH YEAH

“FRENCH CUISINE :-)!!!!” you say rather proudly

“...cool. i guess.” levi hands you your grocery bag which is basically an invitation asking for you to get out

he doesn’t seem mad but he’s definitely going to look back at this encounter and laugh his ass off at how stupid you are

hanging your head down low in embarrassment you make your way out towards your car

there’s always next time!! maybe you can practice in the mirror yeah that does sound like it would help!!!

okay so.

it is officially next time.

actually you never got the opportunity to practice in front of the mirror because you chickened out of looking like an idiot even if it was in the privacy of your own home

but!!! you did try to practice some cool pick up lines because who doesn’t like a good pickup line or two??

the two mini milk cartons in your hand and the pack of doughnuts you have tucked under your arm aren’t too heavy so you aren’t too worried about having to wait in the line

for some reason the guy in front of you keeps turning around and glancing at you as if you don’t even exist

you are not casper the ghost

also casper is a little boy and you definitely aren’t a little boy

finally after a good five minutes the man ahead of you is having his stuff scanned but he’s STILL doing it. even levi notices and gives him an odd look which borders annoyance and anger.

“can i pay for your groceries? maybe walk you to your car?” the stranger asks suddenly

so that’s what this is, he’s simply taken an interest in you

my god this is new but it is uncomfortable and you’d rather say no

“oh, i actually walked here and no thanks i can pay for my own. enjoy the rest of your day!!” you hope your white lie is enough to fool the man but instead of agreeing as any other person would he looks majorly deceived

“i saw you in the parking lot.” ok this is getting a bit too uncomfortable for your liking

“c’mon i’m offering to buy your shit too?”

his voice is raising and you’re not sure what exactly you can do but thankfully for you the manager steps in and takes him away before any more threats can be made

the man had taken up so much of your attention you almost forgot levi was even there until you turned back around

“do you want a member of staff to accompany you to your car? it’s getting dark out.” levi’s comment helps ease your nerves and you try to laugh off what just happened

“i’m good :-)” you say shaking a little. you’re unsure if it’s the cold or the fact you still haven’t completely calmed down

“you sure peaches?”

“i haven’t bought any peaches this time.”

“you’re still peaches to me.” your cheeks flush at his confidence

wait, maybe this is your chance. you’re the last person in his line and they’re closing up for the day so...

“could you walk me to my car?”

and to your surprise even before you can take back what you’ve said levi agrees

it stays like that for a while.

every thursday levi walks you to your car by the end of his shift, all the while the two of you exchange a few words together

like last week you asked him what his favourite colour was (he said purple) you’ve learnt about his hobbies (he’s a decent cook), you’ve even found out about some of his own personal problems. he had mentioned suffering with insomnia in passing.

to be honest each and every time he walks you to your car he has to notice that you begin to park further and further away from the front entrance. but if he does notice he doesn’t say a word about it

“is that all you’re checking out?” you ask with a cheeky grin plastered across your face

looking down at your new dress your lopsided grin is far from fading away any time soon. you especially picked this one out after asking levi what his favourite colour was last week

god. this is so embarrassing but never actually have you had a crush this huge

levi who’s sat behind the counter shoots you a look which almost seems to be on the verge of uninterested. he isn’t entertaining this at all or this is just his typical bored face, you can’t really tell

BUT..... you still have a huge crush on him and you aren’t one to give up this easily

for the record you don’t harass him or anything, just the occasional hint is thrown around but he’s either really dense or doesn’t care

his expression does you no favours, you can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time

“you’re always buying energy drinks... might want to cut down on those they’re no good for you.”

warmth blooms in your chest. he’s just saying it to make small talk but the fact he even thinks to bring that up has your heart fluttering

“i- well- yeah i will!! just have a few overdue essays to get over with :-)” twiddling your thumbs together you think that makes your nerves too obvious so you begin to scratch at the back of your neck

if anything is a dead give away it’s your constant neck scratching, thankfully levi hasn’t picked up on it

“so you wore purple today?” his eyes linger on the thin straps of your dress and you feel the goosebumps rise up onto your skin immediately

“oh yeahhhh-”

“did i tell you yellow was my favourite colour last week?” he asks holding up a neon yellow pack of crisps and for the first time you see him smile

he looks so ?!|>\€|^ pretty ?!/)/&

wait?? yellow??

“didn’t you say purple?”

“no?” he crosses his arms playfully over his chest thinking for a bit

“maybe i did but no it’s really yellow.” he says as he hands you your bag

nodding your head you smile “yeahhhh sure it is.”

damn, now you’re going to have to find a yellow dress just to make him revert back to purple because who even likes yellow?? that’s a deal breaker right there??

update

it’s been two weeks!!

and a yellow dress has been found and secured B-)

it’s been a pretty rough day at work and you need to desperately collect a pack of green tea and get going

you don’t know when exactly being a secretary meant you had to babysit your boss’ children but that’s what the last week has entailed

being made to work overtime to this extent has had an effect on you and you’re ready to head home as soon as you swing by ackermart

not seeing levi for a week made you a little :-( because to be honest he’s the highlight of your thursday evening BUT!! you’ll be able to see him today at least

walking in through the entrance you’re met with connie smiling right at you, he holds the door open for you and smile back greeting him

“so you didn’t come last week...?”

it’s weird for him to ask that, after all you don’t really speak to anyone here apart from levi, you’re surprised you’re enough of a regular to be known by name

“oh i didn’t think anyone would notice? but yeah i had to work overtime you know what boss’ are like.” groaning you crouch down and look at the pot noodles on display

“i didn’t notice it. boss man did.”

“boss man?” you ask feeling out of loop

“levi.” connie answers as he hops into the backroom

????

isn’t he just a cashier??

“you still look confused.” connie remarks as he heads back out with a cardboard box full of pringle’s tubes

“levi’s the boss man, this is his store. he literally only ever mans the cash register on thursday evening because of you.”

at that you start laughing because it makes no sense at all to you

there’s no way connie is being serious

“good one.” you say as you stand up with a chicken flavored noodle in your hand

“i’m not kidding?”

turning around you give him a skeptical look

he sighs and shakes his head.

“listen. me and the part timers are tired of making bets on when he’ll give you his number and i bet that it would happen today so if you could confess to each other that would be perfect!!!”

“who said i like-”

“anyone with a brain can tell you both like each other.” he’s rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head you begin to take him a little more seriously now

“i... did i make it that obvious??” you’re directly facing him trying to get out as much information as you can

“yeah. very. at least levi wasn’t as bold.”

“i think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick he definitely doesn’t like me.”

connie gives you an “are you fucking with me?” look and you look away trying to distract yourself with the the canned goods lining the shelves

“he was worried sick when you didn’t come in for the entire week. he even asked me if he scared you away.”

“maybe i’m just his favourite customer?”

“favourite customer my ass he has a crush on YOU. confess.”

playing around with the ends of your sleeves connie sees he’s fighting a losing battle unless he gives you definitive solid proof

“please... i’ll get free barbecue if i win the bet and i’m kinda broke rn :-(” okay, you do want connie to eat well and be treated and maybe this is a good thing. if levi doesn’t like you then you can move on!!

“i’ll think about it.”

before connie can continue talking you make a beeline towards the tea aisle whilst throwing a “see you next time!” over your shoulder.

by the time you’ve gathered all of your groceries your basket is full to the brim. you’ve been lingering as much as you can out of fear but you think you’ve collected just enough courage to ask for his number

looking at the cash register levi is sat there and your shoulders slump. he’s probably going to say no and you’re going to look like a huge loser.

right as you’re about to take a step towards him levi finally spots you and gives you one look before standing up from his seat

“hi!” you wave at him

“...hey!” he smiles wide but he bites it back pretending it was never there in the first place

placing your basket in front of him he eyes what you’ve got

“hm... lots of peaches as per usual peaches.” the nickname that rolls of his tongue makes you tremble a little. will he call you that after you fuck everything up with this stupid confession?

his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek when he gets to the heart shaped box of chocolates

“a gift for a friend? didn’t know you had those?” he teases as he scans the barcode

“gift for a crush!” you reply back enthusiastically as you dig through your wallet looking for your card

levi doesn’t respond for a few seconds and an awkward silence fills the air. you glance up to see him looking at you open mouthed in shock

“good luck.” he murmurs under his breath he’s not even returning your gaze at this point and is hurriedly scanning through your barcodes

“you okay?” you ask worrying about his mood

“yeah, yeah. great.” he’s quieter than usual.

the rest of your encounter is the same, levi silently bags your groceries and you can’t tell if this is a good or bad response.

just as he’s about to place the heart shaped box into your plastic bag you lunge forward holding his wrist to stop him

“no i don’t need those.”

he cocks his eyebrow upwards trying to analyse your expression and gain an understanding of your thoughts

“don’t tell me you’re chickening out. whoever it is will say yes.” he scoffs as he places the chocolates into the bag handing them over to you with a warm smile

there it is again. the fear returns and you swipe your tongue over your slightly dry lips.

no way.

is he telling you to confess to someone now? so he must not like you?

taking the bag away from him you scratch your neck out of habit and huff feeling frustrated

“he keeps giving me mixed signals.” you say hoping he catches your drift

“give him the chocolates and let him put two and two together. don’t even say anything.” his advice would be great if he weren’t the guy you were trying to confess to in real time

nodding you reach into the bag and bring the box back out before gently placing it in front of levi

“are you serious?” he asks and your face drops seeing the possible displeasure in his eyes

great, connie and the part timers just over analysed he doesn’t like you, obviously he doesn’t like you, why would he like you?

without looking back you hurry out, the embarrassment is eating you away now and the thought of ever returning to ackermart isn’t even feasible in your mind

at this point you may as well change your name, identity, dye your hair, have a few children and wear sunglasses the next time you come back so you look like a soccer mum and not the foolish y/n who thought they had a chance with their cute CASHIER???

god, you probably look like a creep

the sound of footsteps can be heard behind you and labored breaths follow before levi calls out for you

“please wait up.” he grumbles. slowing down your pace you let him catch up to you. he grabs at your wrist and sighs in relief

turning you see him savour the air

is this the part where he confesses he likes you too or—

“your receipt you forgot it.” he gasps as he opens your hand for you and places it into your palm

oh.

fingers clasping shut onto the paper you feel the humiliation seep into your pores

this.

is.

the.

worst.

moment.

of.

your.

life.

“open it.” he offer you a boyish smile and your nerves don’t let you find comfort in it

you grimace as you fold it open, you’re imagining he’s charged you an extra £100 for having unwanted feelings for him and if that’s the case you’ll die on the spot

but instead your eyes light up in joy. you’re pleasantly surprised

...

inside of the receipt is his phone number haphazardly sprawled across in black biro - you even double check by comparing it to the number for the customer service helpline

hello??

HELLO.?.!/)£ HIS NUMBER???

“if you just wanted to return the chocolate this is embarrassing.” he’s the one who’s now scratching at his neck and you find that he’s endearing this way

the streetlight from above illuminates him, the shadows cast over his face and his brows aren’t furrowed as they usually are

you open your mouth to reply but connie cuts you off unintentionally. he can be heard YELLING into his phone ecstatic that his plan has worked out

“I WIN!!! HA BBQ’S ON YOU JEAN!! MUST SUCK TO BE YOU.”

you and levi look at each other and laugh, reassuring the other of what has just happened.

well...

you guess this is the start of something new? maybe??

:-)