#every discussion post i read and every class i attend where i get to listen to the other people here talk about the course content

[lunarsapphism]

screaming and clawing at the bars of my cage (english 101 class). LET ME OUT OF HEREEE !!

[bigtreefest]

Hi Essie!

I was just reading your post on your application and this is just a thought -- you don't have to respond at all if you don't like this idea!! this idea is purely my CPH4 brain talking I swear I have nothing to do with this lol

So, a young man (okay maybe not so young he was born four years ahead of you according to his page in the uni website ) with some very serious frowning becomes your thesis supervisor at the end of the term. He taught one lesson that you attended and you didn't know him very well besides his name. He rarely speaks, always listening to your presentation/answer, and very occasionally asking "do you have any questions for me?"

Nevertheless, you have impressive GPA and at the end of that term, you decided to apply for a PhD. You already have two letters of recommendation, one from a professor that you have known for two years during your Master's, one from a professor that supervised your Bachelor thesis and teaching a few courses that you attended.

But this damn Graduate School that you want to get in requires THREE. THREE FUCKING RECOMMENDATION LETTERS. And it specifically requires the letter from your dissertation supervisors.

You ask, not with much hope, your current supervisor, the lecturer with a very serious frowning look on his face, whether he could provide you a letter of recommendation.

To which he responded, texting back in a matter of seconds.

-Ofc. When do you need it? Send your transcripts btw.

NOW, the question is: Is he

or

or

----I just thought it'd be hilarious if he's very serious during class and meetings while he's basically any 20-somethings when texting you and discussing things that he shouldn't be sharing with you (like the content of your recommendation letter, or the fact that three recommendation letters is absolutely worthless even though he's providing one for you, or that because another professor is cranky and possibly stealing work from their students, you def shouldn't be choosing him as your doctor supervisor)

Oh I absolutely adore this ask! Thank you so much for sending this in, I unfortunately know the hierarchy of academia too well which is why I honestly think I would be rolling my eyes at these standards, too. I took the prompt and ran with it. 😂

I wanna talk about the other two options before I get to my choice. All below the cut bc it’s long.

Let’s discuss Ari:

Throughout Ari’s undergrad degree, he played football and was greatly interested in world policies, so everyone thought once his sports career and degree was over, he’d be ready to get out there. Nope. He really wasn’t sure where to start, so instead, he decided to keep going with schooling.

His grades were just good enough for him to get into the program you were applying to now. Varsity athletics looked great on the application and his charm was the extra boost. Now that he’s in it though, it’s been almost seven years instead of the usual four to five. Part of it is him going in without much of a plan, wanting to try every avenue, while the other is him just not caring enough to push further and just finish the degree. He’s getting paid just enough to get by and no one has threatened to kick him out, so he enjoys the coasting and the free time it gives for him to look into his actual passions.

Part of the PhD program is all of the grad students sitting in a room grading exams of undergrads every few weeks, and during this, Ari really shows his personality. They have to sit there for hours on end, and it can get boring, so Ari will tell stories to the kid next to him to pass the time, except the room is so quiet that everyone hears. These will range from the various dates with odd girls, to that time he saw a video of someone cooking salmon in the dishwasher, so he tried it out. “It was pretty decent. I swear it’s Kosher! I would do it again if it didn’t take so long.”

Any time he gets trusted to teach, which is rare since his advisor doesn’t really want it in order to guarantee the kids are being taught correct content, questions are not answered very well. It’s either with a “hell if I know. Use google. That’s how they do it in the real world.” Or “wait for the professor to get back. This isn’t my expertise.” Both technically valid, but not what a younger student wants to hear from someone in a position of authority.

Star Student Steve:

Steve was born for upper-level studies. He’s been ready to graduate essentially since getting into the program, knowing exactly what he wanted to research right off the bat. He knows all the content well and is well-liked by students and professors alike. The undergrads have a habit of ogling him and crowding his office hours, so you never even bothered to go. Pending his early graduation, he’s already been offered a job at the university with a full federal research grant, which he could use to travel or gain equipment for his projects. He’s probably considering this, unless one of the prime companies/agencies gives him a better offer. He can’t wait for the opportunity to make new rules and discoveries in the field, just needs to find the best route to get him there. (Talk about a CPH4 brain, haha)

With all of this going on, though, he doesn’t have time for much else. Sure, he’s very kind, but he’s always on the move. Students are not his first priority right now if he wants everything in place to be successful and make history. When it comes to picking an advisor, everyone wants Steve, but after hearing all that, and the standard he might hold you to without giving you the time of day to reach that level, do you really want him?

My wonderful choice Curtis:

(Even before I saw my options, this description was screaming ‘Curtis’ to me.)

He’s definitely the kind of silent student who puts his head down and does his work because it’s difficult stuff. Some may say it’s even more difficult than Steve’s if they knew what Curtis actually did, but he’s so silent and keeps it to himself unless he’s asked. It’s not because he doesn’t want to share, it’s more because when he’s interacting with students, he understands his job is to help them first and foremost. Although Curtis may have been busy, he never rushed and made sure his full attention was on the task or person at hand.

All the Professors know Curtis and really like him for his work ethic and ability to maintain balance and remain a grounded person, except he’s just not a poster boy like Steve. For this reason, his advisor trusts him enough to teach certain classes since Curtis parses out his time well and not only knows the content, but cares about it deeply. At the end of his lectures, though, when he asks for questions, it’s radio silence. Perhaps it’s because he taught the material so well, but even Steve and Ari get the odd question about their research or last Sunday’s football game. Curtis gets disinterested stares until he dismisses everyone. Office hours are pretty quiet, too, until right around exam time when a few students come to him for help since everywhere else was so full. After seeing how helpful he is, yourself included, they keep going back to him, keeping it to themselves, though, keeping him their hidden secret gem.

The lack of recognition Curtis gets is a shame, though, because he’s so nice. Actually, not just nice, but genuinely kind. When you were assigned with him as your advisor, you weren’t really sure what to do. Not many talked about him and the stoic demeanor was a little intimidating, until you actually spoke with each other. He was so sweet and engaged, asking you questions and providing guidance not only on what he thought might work the best, but how to go about it and how to properly convey ideas to the committee panel members at the end. He gave you his phone number, too, in case you needed any help at all, saying he’d pick up anytime.

When you asked him for your letter of recommendation, he was elated. “No one has ever come to me for that before, but ofc. When do you need it? Send your transcripts btw. And your resume.”

Curtis was right, though, he had never had to be the voice of authority vouching on someone’s behalf since up until this point, he was in your exact shoes. “Don’t be nervous to ask questions, but I also don’t want you to think that I’ve got all the answers and you’re not good enough. The only difference between you and me academically is like four classes content-wise. I just have more hands-on experience.” He said it with a soft, reassuring smile that really put you at ease.

He’s aware of the system, and of course he hates it, because he knows what it’s like to be at the bottom. Throughout his time putting together your recommendation, he’s messaging you with updates. “I’m going to add this because they really like to see it specifically highlighted,” or “I’m not even sure what they’re asking here, but it’s fucking stupid if you ask me. Conventions like this are ridiculous. I hate that these decisions are made by people who aren’t even on the ground. If they actually took part in this program, they’d see you’re more than qualified to get into it. But no, for some reason, all important decisions are made by old people so far removed from actual work.”

That second one was in person, though. It wouldn’t look good to have him saying those things in writing. He rolls his eyes before switching back to his reassuring, charming self.

“Anyway, don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s good.”

And then as he sits down to write, he constantly sends you lines from it. “Does this sound too braggy? Am I hyping up your work too much? I feel like it wouldn’t be fair if I was casual about it, but we’re rocking with a lot of enthusiasm right now and idk where the line is where it’ll seem insincere.😅”

You tend to hang around Curtis a lot while you’re working on finishing up. On small work breaks, he tells you about the weird little things the other PhD students have sent to his email. “I’m what, four years older than you? And so are these other guys, but I swear they act like they’re twelve.” It helps you to laugh at his small little complaints in a time of building stress. He lets you into his life and you see he’s a normal person, just a few years older than you. He’s the whole reason you know about Ari and the dishwasher salmon, and he helps to break down the barriers you feel against everyone in his program that seems to know so much. Half of your conversation is weird everyday things about his life you’re sure no one else has given him the space to talk about. “You texted me while I was watching the hockey game, they were losing anyway so I was grateful to do something else.” He was in the city…at the actual hockey game…drinking a beer and scrolling emails…. Or “my apartment has a no pet policy, but my roommate got a cat, so I hope you don’t mind the little guy joining us today. Just while the landlord does some maintenance so we don’t get kicked out.” He’s half shuffling through the papers on his desk, half giving you an amused smile thinking of the whole situation. Of course, it can’t all be personal, though, so he continues to sprinkle advice in here and there.

“Also, if you wanna keep your sanity around here, keep away from Levinson’s advisor. Not only is he just straight-up a ridiculous man, but he won’t push you if he likes you. And if he hates you, you’ll know it a mile away. That’s why I never chose him for my committee meeting.”

As you prepare to defend your thesis, Curtis is sitting with you in the hallway. He’s been prepping you for this presentation for weeks, but for peace of mind, he asks you potential questions as you wait to be called in. He holds a paper copy of your thesis, saying once again “you’ve got this. Just like the rehearsals. No one knows this stuff better than you. Show them that.” As you stand in front of the small crowd, he gives you a thumbs-up and watches with approving nods as your blow it out of the water.

He gives you a big hug when you pass and an even bigger hug when you stop by the small TA office and visit his desk to tell him about your official spot in the PhD program. “I can’t wait to work together more with you. You’re going to do great things, I know it, and I’m proud to be a part of it.”

[seidigardensystem]

Your Words Matter

Dear Therapists,

I had just logged into a Zoom session for my Diagnosing Pathology class and my cohort was in deep discussion with one particular student as we all waited for our professor. This student in particular was already working in some sort of clinical setting, not yet giving therapy, but a new client profile had come across her desk with a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder. She didn’t know much about the diagnosis herself, but she was concerned because her boss said, “Whoa, good luck with that one. Borderlines are very difficult to work with.”

Difficult. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that word. Every time I hear a professional utter the word, “difficult” when referencing a client it stings. Is that how you really see us? As patients/clients that are stuck in a downward spiral whose struggles are too much for you to handle? Don’t you believe in what you do and that there is hope for us?

My heart breaks for whoever this person is that has borderline personality disorder because the cards have been stacked against them before they’ve even gotten started. One of my school assignments required me to write about working with a difficult population and this was my response:

“If we get the idea that a particular diagnosis or population is difficult to work with it feels like we are setting ourselves up for failure. Maybe we will treat them differently or have lower expectations or refuse to work with them because we have a negative perception.”

In 2022, I attended the Healing Together conference hosted by An Infinite Mind in Orlando, Florida. I was sitting in a session where I could hear and learn about lived experiences with dissociation and an excerpt from a book was read aloud as an example of how some clinicians view dissociative identity disorder. The presenter who read the excerpt was sad, the audience was sad, and I felt infuriated. The gist of the excerpt talked about how a clinician should be wary because clients with dissociative identity disorder are difficult to work with and that they bring unsolvable problems to therapy.

Unsolvable problems? Listen, if a client’s problem was easy to solve, they wouldn’t need therapy! Of course we are bringing our unsolvable problems to you. We believe in your ability to help us. We were trusting you enough to share our struggles. When we hear you call us difficult, challenging, resistant, and a myriad of other words, you break our trust and confidence.

My ask of you is that you reframe your perspective of difficult clients. My therapist always says that behavior is communication, so when you find a client’s behavior particularly difficult, ask yourself, “What is my client trying to tell me?” “What does my client need right now?” Seek out peer consultation or supervision without passing judgment on how difficult a client is for you.

I’ve always carried around my own judgment about myself as a client in therapy. I used to tell my therapist, “Thank you for putting up with me” and her response was, “There’s nothing to put up with.” When I had the opportunity to watch her present at a conference once, I went up to her just before it started to tell her she’d do a great job. She just smiled and said, “Everything I’m presenting today, I learned from you.” I thought about that for a long time. Not once, in our years of therapy had she ever shown any indication of frustration, feeling challenged, or felt I was difficult. She simply adapted her interventions as needed.

The NICABM posted back on June 11, 2022 on their Facebook page a quote from Pat Ogden, PhD; “When we call clients resistant or difficult, it’s because our interventions are not working and we feel incompetent.” As clients, we don’t think you’re incompetent. We think there’s something wrong with us and we believe you when we hear you say we’re difficult. So, please, choose carefully. Your words matter.

Sincerely,

A DID Client

References

NICABM. (2022, June 11). What may at first seem like opposition or resistance can often signal a client’s deepest struggles. [Status Update]. [Image attached]. Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/NICABM/photos/10159170676011314

[hoebiirama]

What's "Preganan" ?

✑ Anonymous sent : "Could I have an imagine/a little scenario of Madara explaining to his son that his wife is pregnant again and that he'll have a little sibling soon?"

✑ Anli's useless comment : Listen... I know I said I don't take requests for scenarios and my point still holds but you can't throw dad!Madara at me and expect to get a simple headcanon post, I'm just too weak for this man, it's not even funny ㅠㅠ I however wish to apologize for how short it is I also couldn't stop myself from naming his son Fukuya after my own OC from a fic I'm currently working on, I love this boy so much that it's become the default name I use for any male Uchiha OC at this point lol

Content warning : AFAB!Reader (use of she/her pronouns) // Obvious mention of pregnancy // Madara is awkward af // My writing skills are rusty and it shows

Masterpost | Rules | Send a request | Works in Progress

Fukuya hadn't expected to see his father waiting for him right outside the Academy grounds that evening, and there's a split second where all the little boy can do is stare at the man leaning against the fence gate, frozen in place.

It's not that he isn't excited to see him, not at all. It's very much the opposite, but it's so sudden and unusual that he can't help but wonder, for a moment, if today is meant to be something important, and he worries that he may have forgotten about it. Usually, Madara is too busy to come pick him up after class — not to mention his father typically tends to scare children away, though Fukuya doesn't understand why — so the task was almost always yours to take on. Needless to say both Madara's presence and your absence are enough to unsettle the 5-year-old boy for a short time, until he catches his father frowning in confusion at his strange behavior and is effectively brought out of his stupor.

Madara can't help the little smirk of pride that betrays his normally neutral expression when he sees his son running up to him, and happily welcomes his embrace when Fukuya clings to his hip, even returning it with a one-armed hug. Though the man really isn't fond of public displays of affection as a general rule, it's a different story when it comes to his son, even if he tends to keep it to a minimum; he knows people are staring, and he can't help but feel like it's a breech of privacy.

His possessive tendencies extend even to Fukuya — it took a lot of work and dedication for you to convince him to let your son attend the Academy just like every other kid his age.

Not one to make small talk, or at least to initiate it, Madara remains silent as he uses the arm he has draped around his son's shoulders to gently nudge him forward, guiding him towards the direction of your home, on the other side of the village. Fukuya doesn't protest, and he's too giddy about his father being there to take the time to say goodbye to his friends before he and Madara are on their way.

It doesn't take long for Fukuya to turn nervous, however. The moment the Academy is out of their field of vision, a heaviness settles in the pit of his stomach — he still doesn't have an answer to his question, but he's too hesitant to ask about it. He knows he has nothing to fear, but he feels awkward about the fact that Madara never explained why he was there to begin with. It feels like he should've by now, so Fukuya doesn't understand why his father hasn't said a single word to him this entire time.

Madara, however, doesn't fail to notice Fukuya's unease, and unlike his son, he can read the boy like an open book. He was aware that he would question where his mother was even before he left for the Academy. The problem is that Madara dreads the questions he knows are bound to follow, and he's just not ready to have this discussion with his son, who's still practically a baby in his eyes.

He knows he has to, though, because Fukuya is bound to find out one way or another, and he'd rather have the boy be prepared for it instead of being confronted with the situation and not knowing how to handle it.

Madara sighs, finally resigned. "I know you're wondering where your mother is."

Fukuya turns his head up to look at his father and nods, confirming Madara's assumptions.

"She wasn't feeling well today, so I told her to stay home and rest," he then explains. The neutral tone of his voice does nothing to give Fukuya any clues about the gravity of the situation — if anything, it just serves to confuse him further.

"Is mommy sick ?" Fukuya worries.

Madara frowns. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

Silence.

"I don't understand."

"Your mother is pregnant," Madara simply answers.

Fukuya stares at him, eyebrow raised, as if his father just spoke a completely alien language to him.

"What— what's preganan...?

"Pregnant," Madara corrects him.

This isn't going well, and Madara is so grateful that you aren't there to witness the embarrassment. He's already uncomfortable with the discussion and he hasn't even gotten into the actual subject yet. If it were only for him, he would've dropped the bomb on Fukuya from the beginning, but of course you had to make him promise to be gentle in his approach, and he had to comply because he loves you too much to disappoint you.

You carrying his child is his ultimate weakness, but Gods forbid he'll ever admit it to anyone. He'd rather die than tell the truth, even if you're fully aware of that fact already.

"It means there's a baby growing inside of her."

"Oh."

Fukuya doesn't add anything to this, but Madara decides to let him speak first before continuing. He doesn't want to do this but he gave you his word, and he isn't one to go back on it.

"Wait, does it mean I'm a big brother now ?" Fukuya's sudden excitement at the thought of having a younger sibling he can take care of warms Madara's heart so much more than the man thought it ever could.

"In a few months you will be," Madara nods.

"Yes ! I can't wait !" Fukuya exclaims. Madara doesn't think he's ever seen him so elated before, and he fails to completely hold back his smile.

He's also glad and so incredibly relieved that Fukuya doesn't ask him how babies are made on the rest of the way home. And, in truth, so are you — there are so many reasons you don't want him to be on duty to explain that one to anyone, children or not.

But that in itself is a story for another day. And one Fukuya definitely doesn't need to be aware of.

[julemmaes]

Robyn

Rowaelin Month, Day Ten

A/N: I'd planned on posting them in order, but you get what you get. Idk when the other prompts will come tbf. I hope soon. Anyway, I managed to write over 6k words today and I'm pretty fucking proud.

This is just fluff over fluff, so yep enjoy!!

Word count: 3,047

Rowan was unbelievably late as he sped through the streets of Orynth.

So late that the school had called not only him, but also the front desk of the place where he worked when he hadn't answered the call on his personal phone. Sorscha, his assistant, had entered his office with an embarrassed smile on her lips, as if she didn't want to tell him that he had forgotten for the umpteenth time to pick up his daughter from school.

Lorcan had joined him, for some strange reason, but Rowan had stopped bothering when it came to his best friend. He'd been trying to figure out how he reasoned for years and had come to the conclusion that there was no logical sense in the actions of the man sitting next to him, who was currently singing at the top of his lungs to one of the songs on the Frozen CD - which much to the chagrin of both of them, had gotten stuck in his car radio months before, forcing them into hours of torture.

He would never deny that the songs were all quite catchy, but after the sixteenth time Rowan had had to listen to Let It Go at maximum volume, his positive opinion of the film had begun to waver.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Rowan noticed with deep regret that the only cars still there were those of the teachers and school staff.

They both got out of the car, Rowan walking quickly towards the entrance while Lorcan dragged behind him.

He greeted the caretakers sitting at the entrance, who returned a big smile. A smile that grew even wider when his large, imposing friend entered a few moments later. He stopped to talk to the old ladies and Rowan walked down the corridor he knew led to Robyn's classroom.

He could hear muffled voices from inside the teachers' room on the left and the one he knew belonged to Miss Galathynius coming from the right. He looked out over the classroom, spotting the two people sitting at a desk.

As soon as his daughter saw him, her eyes widened and a huge smile flashed across her face.

No words. No "hello, daddy!" or "I missed you!" from the little girl.

Her teacher turned as she leapt out of her chair and ran towards him, hugging his legs and looking up at him. Rowan smiled at her in turn, running a hand over her hair that was shot in every direction.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured to her. The child's smile widened even more if that was possible.

The woman a few feet away from them pulled herself upright, crossing her arms over her chest and offering a sincere smile to the child, who hid behind his thighs.

Rowan was about to tell her that Robyn was shy with everyone like this, ready to defend his daughter's behaviour as he was used to doing in front of every adult, but he was beaten to the punch.

"It's good to see you, Mr Whitethorn," she said, extending a hand. Rowan shook it without hesitation. "Actually, I just wanted to write you a letter regarding Robyn," she continued, never taking her eyes off the little girl. "Nothing serious," she hastened to reassure him when Rowan grimaced, "quite the contrary. Robyn is remarkably good. One of the best in the class, though I shouldn't offer that information so bluntly."

Miss Galathynius winked at him, but he couldn't process what he'd just been told.

"Sorry, could you-"

The little hands clamped around his trousers tightened a fraction more and Rowan looked down, trying to figure out what was bothering his daughter, but then something happened that he hadn't even dared to dream about in recent times.

"You're here!"

The little girl broke off and ran away from him in less than the blink of an eye.

Rowan turned just in time to see Lorcan grab Robyn in mid-air, spinning her around as he brought her to his chest and showered her with kisses. The loud, incessant laughter that erupted from her seemed too much coming from that fragile little body, but he never tired of hearing it.

"Why hello baby!" said Lorcan laughing in turn, starting to tickle her until she begun to rebel and he was forced to let her slide to the floor. Robyn was still laughing at the top of her lungs and nearly fell to the ground as she squealed left and right, letting herself be pushed around by the closest thing to an uncle she had ever had.

When Rowan turned back to the woman, she was wide-eyed and her lips slightly parted as she watched the massive man dressed completely in black and the menacing face turn into a completely different person the second he had seen Robyn.

He chuckled, "I know, it's not every day you get to see a little girl be so comfortable with a brute like that."

Lorcan, who was listening to everything, looked him straight in the eye and without stopping smiling and playing with the little girl, mouthed to him to fuck off.

"Well, yeah. You caught me a little off guard." she confessed, still shocked to hear how Robyn was having a full conversation with Lorcan. They couldn't hear anything of what she was actually saying, but even just the fact she was talking to someone seemed to have Aelin unsettled.

She returned her attention to Rowan and let out a breath that sounded more like a giggle, "I've never heard her laugh before."

He nodded, blushing a little at the teacher's surprised but relieved tone.

"I'm sure the dean warned you about the problem she has," he said in a low voice. He grimaced at her poor choice of words, "I mean, not problem, but the difficulty she finds in interacting with people she doesn't know."

Liar, he told himself. Robyn hadn't spoken to anyone but him and Lorcan since the day Lyria had died. It wasn't a difficulty, but a response to the trauma that prevented her from speaking to anyone who wasn't part of her immediate family.

"I know, I know. We've been looking for solutions together." she informed him. "I give her a white board every morning. Come on, I'll show you." she turned to the desk they were sitting at earlier and raised the magnetic board, on which a few words were scribbled on. "I'll write here what she might need. Yes. No. I need to go to the bathroom. I'm thirsty. I'm hungry." she read, listing the various options. Rowan gaped. "We've only just started going over the alphabet for a second time, so she can't really read or write yet, as I imagine you know, but the little drawings next to each sentence help her."

She continued talking, but he couldn't quite follow.

The woman in front of him - aside from being breathtakingly beautiful - had done as much as she could to help her child with communication.

"Mr. Whitethorn-"

"Rowan. Please, call me Rowan." he said, clearing his throat once he realized how hoarse it sounded to his ears. Lorcan walked up to them at that point, still holding Robyn in his arms and positioned himself next to him, letting their shoulders touch in a comforting way.

"Call me Aelin, then," she smiled at them both. Then she made a small grimace, turning to Rowan, "I wanted to ask if it bothered you, that I sought a solution like that. Maybe I put her in distress, embarrassed her. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted to solve this on my own. I really wanted to discuss it with you, with your husband too, to avoid misunderstandings. Maybe we could arrange a meeting."

He was about to tell her that she had given him the exact opposite of annoyance, that he had been more than pleased that she had helped Robyn this way, when her words finally registered.

Lorcan, beside him, had opened his mouth wide and his lips were slowly bending into a mischievous smile.

Rowan furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, what?"

Aelin's smile seemed to falter. "A meeting? With you? To talk about how to handle the situation," then she shifted her gaze to Lorcan, "You're more than welcome to join as well. I didn't know Robyn had two dads, I apologise for assuming Robyn had a mum and dad. That was very rude of me-"

"I love this," Lorcan whispered, laughing in shock. He turned to Rowan with eyes that sparkled with amusement, "I would definitely be the top."

Rowan looked at him with an expression of complete shock on his face, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robyn gasped, opening her eyes wide and bringing a hand to her mouth, pointing then to Rowan's.

"Yeah, sorry, love. I shouldn't have said the bad word." he apologised, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned back to Miss Galathynius, "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but we're not married."

"No need to lie, sweetie. I'm sure Aelin," he gave her a knowing look, "doesn't mind at all about our relationship status."

Aelin nodded, "Well, yes. That doesn't change anything. Mr..." she turned to Lorcan, searching for a name.

"Salvaterre."

"Mr. Salvaterre can still attend. The fact that you are not yet married is no reason why you cannot both be present at the meeting. You don't have to worry, we are a very tolerant school and if anyone bothers you, you can come directly to me."

A sound of sheer glee escaped Lorcan.

Aelin continued, "I mean it. I was pleased to see both of you today. I was also pleased to see Robyn smiling so much." she concluded, looking the little one in the face.

Rowan took a deep breath, bracing himself, "No, I meant, we're not a couple. We're not gay. He's her uncle."

The woman's blonde eyebrows shot up and a second later she turned almost as red as the dress Robyn was wearing as Lorcan shook his head muttering something very much like 'you're no fun', which made Robyn giggle.

"Why did you even get off the car?" he asked him exasperated.

Lorcan shrugged, "Because I missed my little bean, you monster." he replied, clutching Robyn to his chest. The little girl clutched Lorcan's shirt in her chubby little hands and Rowan huffed, shaking his head.

Aelin brought her hands to her face, leaning against the desk behind her. She shook her head, her face still hidden, "Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

Lorcan let out a dry laugh, "Don't worry about it. It was fun while it lasted." then he turned to Rowan again, who was still trying to recover from the idea of being involved in a relationship with his friend, "You're really no fun."

"Yeah, no fun dad." repeated Robyn.

Silence fell over the class. Rowan looked at her with wide eyes and blinked once, twice. Robyn was staring at him with a sweet scowl that mimicked so much that of the man who was still holding her, but Rowan couldn't get over the fact that his daughter had spoken while Aelin was still beside them.

He was about to talk, noticing how Robyn had started squirming in Lorcan's arms, when there was a knock at the door.

They both turned, Aelin peering over Rowan's shoulder, and saw the figure of a petite girl with black hair and eyes standing in the doorway, watching them with her head slightly bent to the side. She had a tag on her t-shirt that was too colourful to belong to someone who didn't work in a school with children, so he guessed she was a teacher herself. Besides, Rowan felt like he'd seen her elsewhere. Probably every day when he picked Robyn up from school, he said to himself.

"I know you're not supposed to eavesdrop but I stopped by earlier and heard you were a couple of dads," she said by way of introduction. "I just wanted to reassure you that the school is an extremely safe place. I'm the one who did most of the interviews with the parents," that's where they had met then, "and one of the questions that is asked is just about the tolerance of the people who will be attending the school."

Aelin watched her, remaining silent the whole time and putting on an amused smile, nodded, "That's what I was telling them. How tolerant the school is. They make such a cute couple, don't you think, Elide?"

Rowan turned to her, arching an eyebrow, silently asking her what she was doing. The woman, as if she could truly understand what he was trying to convey to her, nodded her head towards Lorcan, who Rowan only then noticed was standing weirdly, his eyes fixed on the woman in the doorway.

He grinned, deciding to take his revenge right away. "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the reassurance," Rowan began to play along as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorcan turn towards him, dropping Robyn to the floor, who made a disapproving noise at being dumped so suddenly. "We are happy to know that this school is a safe place for our daughter. And for us."

Elide offered him a blinding smile, "Good. I'm happy to hear that you are pleased so far. And I am happy that Aelin is the one who is taking your daughter's class. She's the best one here."

Rowan didn't know her yet, but he knew the thing Elide had just said could only be true.

"Well," she said again, giving them an apologetic smile, "I really must go now, but if you need anything, you can find all my contact details on the website. Have a nice day!"

Aelin and Rowan said their goodbyes, thanking her. Lorcan took a while to recover, but when he realised he was staring into empty space he ran towards the door, almost stepping on little Robyn, who was moved by Aelin.

"We are very much not gay, miss!" he shouted into the hallway. Aelin, now beside him and with a hand on Robyn's shoulder, cackled. With Lorcan's infinite luck, someone walked by just then and gave him a stern look. "Oh, shut up ma'am. I'm an ally. The best ally."

Rowan shook his head as Lorcan launched himself in pursuit of the poor teacher and burst out laughing when he heard him shout, "I'm not homophobic! I'm willing to suck someone's cock if I have to prove it to you!"

Aelin opened her mouth wide before bursting out laughing in turn.

Robyn, seeing both adults so happy, giggled too and Rowan bent down to pick her up. The little girl laid her full head of white-light hair on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

She was tired and Rowan really needed to get her home to sleep.

He glanced at Aelin and reduced his lips to a thin line, "I'm sorry about the commotion, I'll try not to bring him into the building again. Even if it means tying him to the seat."

The soft laugh she gave made something tighten in his chest. He frowned.

Aelin didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, "Don't worry, Elide is crazy about fools like him. If he says the right things, we might start seeing each other outside of school too."

Rowan nodded, now too caught up in the thought of having to take Robyn home to focus on anything else.

They agreed on when to hold the parent-teacher meeting and then he grabbed Robyn's backpack, walking towards the exit.

He was thoughtless as he reached into his pocket for his keys and balanced everything else - including the girl - on his other arm, but when Robyn's hand brushed his cheek, he looked down and his eyes met their twins. Green against green.

"What is it?"

The little girl's voice never stopped making him smile. Each time was like the first time she had said dada.

"I really like her."

Rowan frowned, "Who?"

"Miss Aelin." she whispered, almost as if she was afraid they might hear her.

He smiled at her, "Yeah? You like her?"

"She's nice to me."

Rowan had to put her down as he opened the door and let her get into the back seats by herself.

"I'm glad she's treating you well, love," he let her know, buckling her in.

He hoped she'd tell him more about her new teacher, but like any kid her age, the topic of conversation couldn't last for more than four lines apiece, "Where's Uncle Lorcan?"

Rowan snorted, "No idea, little bird."

Robyn nodded, "Elide is pretty too."

And as if those words had summoned him, Lorcan appeared beside the car, making them both scream. He entered the car in a heartbeat and turned to his daughter, who was still settling into the seat. "Do you know Miss Lochan?"

But before she could answer him, Rowan had entered the car in turn and smacked the back of his head, which made the Robyn giggle, "You're not using my daughter as your wingman. Now stop it and buckle up."

Lorcan gave him a gentle push, before doing as he was told and for once he was happy he'd convinced him to do something.

Or at least, Rowan thought he had convinced him.

"What if I left you a note to deliver to Miss Lochan, Rob? Would you be up for it?"

Rowan knew, even without looking at her, that she was nodding emphatically.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, "Could you stop calling my daughter Rob, please? You'll give her an existential crisis."

Lorcan clicked his tongue against his palate, "Rowan, I'm not giving her a damn thing. We live in this new world, okay? Your daughter could be called Simon and still be a beautiful princess. Grow up and educate yourself before you talk shit."

"Aaaah!" shouted Robyn, "Bad word!"

Rowan sighed and shook his head, but still he was smiling.

This was his life. Had been for the past two years.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

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[system-to-the-madness]

Belonging - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x (fem!)Reader Genre: fluff Summary: You are unhappily spending boring the afternoon, wishing your friends, the Crows would be the ones to keep you company. Luckily they seem to be able to read thoughts. Warning: mention of blood, violence and murder (canon-typical), mention of irresponsible consume of alcohol Word Count: 3 069 A/N: A little treat while we’re waiting for chapter 7 of “By your Side” coming on Friday. Sorry for only posting now. I wanted to be home by 8pm, but then we had a tiny Christmas party at the ballet school, and I lost my keys so I had to walk 4km home. But luckily I found my keys after about ¾ of the way. Someone placed them so I could find them more easily. Thank you, kind soul. Also I thought about this idea yesterday, while people from uni dragged me to an awful brunch in an expensive bakery, and the guy next to me (who found an inglorious place in this story) annoyed me so much, I started writing this story in my head. Sorry, not sorry.

The café you were sitting in was crowded and noisy. Busily people were pushing in and out of the shop, desperate to fetch a snack in their short lunch break. The people at your table were relaxed though. Not that it made you feel much better.

A few days ago a new guy had joined the group of people who called themselves your friends (even though they were rather acquaintances really. You were not close enough to them for you to consider them your friends). You all went to university together, and with the addition of this new guy the whole dynamic of the group had shifted into territory you did not really feel comfortable with.

The girls in the group were talking about fashion, and about what dresses to get, or what study accessories to buy. You would have enjoyed these conversations perhaps, if you had the money to buy things too. But you didn't. All your money went into paying the university tuition fees. How you got the money was an entirely different matter as well, one you thought you preferred not to discuss with these people.

While they got money from their parents, you made your money by… well… stealing. As a member of the most inner circle of the Dregs, you were often involved in all kinds of heists, stealing art and jewels, which then got sold on the black market. And with your part of the earnings, you made a living while paying off your tuition fees as well.

Kaz Brekker, the leader of the Dregs, had often offered to help you out, since the Dregs would profit from the knowledge you gained at university. But you had denied his offer every time. You knew he offered this to you because behind his furrowed brows, and indifferent expressions he actually cared about you, but you preferred your independence. It made you proud being able to take care of yourself. And since nobody at university ever asked where your money came from, you had never gotten close to revealing that you were actually a feared gang member in the most ruthless part of Ketterdam.

The only time you had almost gotten into trouble had been a few weeks ago, when one of the girls, the one on your left, who was being flirted with by one of the guys, had told you, that an expensive painting her father had bought a year ago, had turned out to be a fake. Almost you would have laughed out loud. The painting her father had bought had not been a fake. But just two days after he had acquired it, Kaz and the Crows, including you, had broken into the mansion to steal it. It had been your own hands, assisted by none other than Kaz Brekker himself, which had exchanged the real, valuable painting with a cheap, but convincing fake. In hindsight you considered it payback for the time you had been sick (because you had spent a whole night on a roof top in the rain to listen in on Pekka Rollins), and they had not borrowed you their notes, even though you always made sure to share your notes with them whenever they did not attend classes (which was mostly after long nights out in which they got blackout drunk).

Now your focus drifted away from the girls talking about fashion, to the guys. They were still, or again? talking about an illegal fight club they had visited the other day, and were planning on visiting again. It had been rather tricky, coming up with an excuse as to why you could never join them for these events, since the whole group loved attending these gruesome presentations. But the fight club your colleagues frequented was one of Pekka Rollins’.

You had told them were not able to stand the sight of blood, which had been a lie. You had a lot of blood on your hands, not that any of them knew about that, and did not mind spilling it. But you knew if you as much as stepped foot into that fight club, you would get your throat slit, and you preferred your blood to stay inside your body.

At the end of the day attending university while being a member of a feared gang and close friend of Kaz Brekker was rather tiring. You spend the days studying, sitting in lectures or libraries, or pretended to be just another rich kid, attending university without realising the worth of the knowledge you gained. And the nights were spent on roof tops, planning heists, or breaking into mansions to steal fantastic valuables.

But you would not change your life for anything in the world.

Especially since in the last months Kaz and you had started growing very close. You spent long nights just talking to each other. Kaz often jokingly offered to kill the people at university who annoyed you, and you had a feeling he actually might be planning to go after that professor who always opened the windows wide, even in the middle of winter when you were already freezing cold. You loved the way Kaz’s eyes met yours through the crowded Crow Club, and how he had started handing you his coat whenever he noticed you were shivering from the cold, which was almost always, now that it was the deepest of winter. Indeed it was the winter solstice today, the shortest day of the year, and with a glance out of the window of the café you realised that even though it was barely past noon, outside the sky started growing dark again already.

You got torn out of your thoughts by the hysterical laughter of the new guy in the group, who had annoyed you from the start. Now he flipped his long, blond, greasy hair over his shoulder, hitting you right in the face. You wanted to gag. Maybe you would mention him to Kaz, and ask him to pay this guy a visit. Not actually hurt him, just teach him some much needed manners.

You took a deep breath, and leant a little closer to the girls, who were still gushing about a dress they had seen in the window of a shop yesterday. It was almost laughable how they debated whether they should go into the shop or not, whether they would fit in at all.

It was laughable because if you would have wanted that dress, you would have just walked in, undressed the mannequin, and walked out, and nobody would have noticed. It was a skill you shared with Inej, being invisible when you wanted to be. It was not like you actually disappeared from sight, you just blended into your surroundings, and even when people were looking for you, they would look right past you. But unlike Inej, you often seemed to disappear from people’s memories, too, so they did not remember you until they actually saw your face again.

That was the reason you had started working with Kaz: He needed your skill, and you needed money. Now the Dregs, but the Crows most of all, had grown to be your closest friends, almost like a family. They were where you belonged. Sometimes this skill to be invisible was useful, but especially with the people from university it was rather saddening, because they often did not notice when they left you behind.

With the Crows it was different. The Crows always saw you.

Kaz had noticed you pickpocketing in the Crow Club when nobody else had even taken notice of you at all.

Jesper always perked up when you entered the room, and greeted you. Nina always thought of you when she was cooking, and saved a plate for you.

Wylan loved drawing you, and occasionally slipped you a little sketch of yourself, which he had drawn while you had been studying. He knew that sometimes you felt down because the people from university seemed to forget about you as soon as you were out of sight, and it was his way to cheer you up, to remind you the Crows would not forget you. (Kaz had once caught Wylan drawing you, and, in a surge of jealousy, had taken the drawing away from Wylan. Later he had returned it to him, requesting Wylan to finish it, and shyly asked if Kaz could keep it afterwards. Wylan, admittedly confused, had left the finished drawing on Kaz’s desk, and now it was tucked away, safe in a picture frame, in a drawer of Kaz’s night table, where nobody but him could see it. Neither of the two men had ever told you about the incident.)

Matthias sometimes made tea for you when you were engrossed in your studies, and convinced nobody had noticed you sitting in the corner of the room, and Inej often dropped by your window at night to share the latest gossip.

You loved them all, not just for the attention they were paying you, or how they made you feel, but because they generally cared. They cared a lot more than these people you were sitting at a table with now. Yes, even Kaz with his stone cold exterior cared about all of his Crows, you included.

Oh, how you missed the Crows! You simply did not belong with these people who talked about nothing but fashion and illegal fight clubs and ways to best spend as much money as possible. You belonged with that bunch of misfits, criminals, who bickered and snickered and glared at outsiders instead of putting on a fake-friendly façade. How different your afternoon would be, if it were the Crows, who you were sitting in this café with!

Just in that moment you heard a laugh, and you could have sworn it belonged to Inej. But you did not turn around to seek for the source of the sound. Never would the Wraith turn up in a crowded café in the middle of the day. Well, it was dark outside even though it was barely past three in the afternoon, but there were still too many people around. None of the Crows, except maybe Nina or Jesper on the search for a distraction, would enter such a café. You felt like an imposter between these rich kids you were sitting with. You did not belong with them, you just pretended, faked, the same way you had faked the painting that had hung over this girl’s father’s desk for a year before he realised it was not the original.

All in all, you were cold and miserable right now, even though you were sitting in a decently warm and cosy café. You were always cold these days, unless you were wrapped in Kaz’s coat, or sitting in his office. Maybe it was just his presence generally that somehow warmed you up.

You were about to wonder what kind of excuse you might offer to the group, so you could leave, when suddenly the hair in your neck rose, and a shiver ran down your spine. You did not have to turn around to know who was standing behind you, you did not have to glance down to your shoulder, when a hard object softly landed on it, to know what had just touched you.

“Kaz,” you spoke quietly, before turning around nonetheless.

Behind you stood nobody but the Bastard of the Barrel himself, dressed completely in expensive, black clothes, the beak of his crow-headed cane resting on your shoulder. Others, who knew who he was, would have started sweating in fear, would have quivered under his razor blade sharp gaze, but you just smiled, relishing the feeling of your heart joyously skipping a beat.

Kaz’s eyes left yours for a moment, scanning your company. None of them had noticed his presence. Distaste and condescension flashed over his face before he met your gaze again, and his expression softened immediately.

“Why don’t you come sit with us?”

You looked past him, finding the other five Crows sitting at a table just a few meters away. So it had been Inej’s laugh you had heard just moments ago!

“What are you all doing here,” you asked, surprised, but unable to hide the grin on your face.

Quickly you got up, and grabbed your jacket and bag to join the others.

“Can’t we spend a nice afternoon in a café every once in a while,” Kaz asked, as he followed close behind you, as if he tried to shield you from a possible attack.

“As if you suddenly had the urge to spend a nice afternoon in a café,” you mocked, “Hey, Jesper. What are you guys doing here?”

You knew Jesper would be the one to answer you immediately and truthfully, not because he was thoughtless about the consequences Kaz would threaten him with, but because he knew what you would do to him, if he lied. (You’d hide his guns, that was what you would do.)

“This guy here,” Jesper pointed at Kaz and scooted closer to Wylan to make space for you on the bench, “insisted you were here, and were probably looking for a way out.”

“I didn’t-“

“And then he suggested we all should come here, because it would be weird if he turned up all by himself,” Inej added, earning a surprised glance from you.

“As if seven criminals sitting in a café isn’t weird,” Matthias grumbled, but he did not look all too unhappy, sitting in the café with Nina squeezed to his side.

“This sounds like the beginning of a bad joke,” Nina laughed. “Seven criminals go to a café...”

“What’s the punch line,” you asked, cuddling a little deeper into the pullover you were wearing. You were still cold.

“That blonde guy’s jawline, if he won’t stop annoying you,” Kaz grumbled, throwing a glace over his shoulder at the new guy in the group who had been getting on your nerves since second one.

“How do you know he’s been annoying me?”

“I know you. You looked annoyed,” Kaz shrugged, holding out his coat to you.

Neither of the two of you noticed the meaningful glances the other Crows were giving each other as you wordlessly slipped into the far too big coat, and happily sighed at the warmth that engulfed you.

A waitress suddenly appeared at the table, serving a huge plate of waffles with cream and jam, and several mugs of hot chocolate.

“I took the liberty of ordering,” Matthias shrugged at your surprised expression when a cup got placed in front of you. Nina giggled and gently shoved his side. Of course he had only ordered waffles for everyone so Nina was happy.

You thanked Matthias, and grabbed waffled, taking a bite off the sweet treat, and sunk back against the back rest of the bench you were sitting on. Jesper was pressed against your side in the narrow space, and on your other side Kaz had settled on a chair at the short side of the table. He watched you take another bite of the waffle, and how you were sinking deeper into his coat. You looked so homey and adorable like that, he wished he could have Wylan draw this moment for him.

About half an hour after Kaz had picked you up to sit with the Crows, the people you had sat with before started getting ready to leave. Only then did they seem to notice you were gone. Confused they glanced around the café, and looked even straight at the Crow’s table, but did not seem to see you. You were just sitting there, looking back at them, but their eyes skipped you, not noticing you between the Zemini boy, who had whipped cream stuck to his upper lip, before it got wiped away by a curley haired boy’s thumb, and the dangerous looking boy in black.

The question of where you had wandered off to did not seem to occupy your colleagues’ minds for long, because not even twenty seconds later they had already left the shop, and you could not find it in you to really care about their indifference. Instead you pushed the sleeves of Kaz’s coat back, and reached for the cup with hot chocolate.

You knew Kaz was watching you drink, but ignored him until you had put down the cup again. When you met his gaze with raised eyebrows, he quickly averted his gaze, and reached over to you, slipping his gloved hand into one of the many pockets of his coat, retrieving a handkerchief.

“You got cream on your face,” he mumbled, not meeting your eyes as he was unfolding the fabric.

You held out your hand to take it, but much to your surprise Kaz reached out and dabbed the handkerchief over your lips. The fabric was soft, his touch so subtle it was barely there, and your heart beat in your throat at the gesture. With heated cheek you shyly glanced up at Kaz, his eyes fixed on your lips, and his jaw tightened. He dabbed the fabric, which faintly smelled of cotton, against your lip a last time, before slowly lowering his hand.

“There, ‘s better now,” he spoke softly, only then meeting your eyes.

A faint blush had spread over his cheek and nose, and your heart danced happily at the realisation that it was an interaction with you, which had caused him to blush.

Quickly he folded the handkerchief again, and slipped it into one of his pockets, before a waitress placed a new order of cups with hot chocolate on the table, distracting you momentarily as you grabbed two cups, one for yourself, one for Kaz. When you turned back, you found he had been watching your every movement. You smiled at him, amused how he shortly averted his gaze before immediately searching yours again.

This was how the afternoon continued. All seven of you eating many more waffles than was good for either of you, drinking hot chocolate until you felt slightly sick. But what was most important: you were with the people you knew you belonged with. Of course you also treasured the shy smiles you exchanged with Kaz, his unabashed gazes. And he found at least two more opportunities to dab your lips with his handkerchief, whether there was cream or chocolate on your lips, or not.

Picture Sources: Freddy Carter, Book Backs, Desk, open Books, Windows on the Left, Letters, Bookshop, Croissants

[maria-akira]

how you meet the ahs boys + their reaction while you're having a class - PART 1

—♡—

hey yall im back again 🧍🏻‍♀️ is this what you call a headcanon?? idk BAHAHSHHA. anyways i've had this idea in my mind for a while and i wanted to share it to yall, so i hope you guys like it 😌

these also have a little back story on how you guys meet !!

also, special mention to @tatestripedsweater for helping me give ideas with jimmy's part !! thank you so much mwah 🥺❤

warnings: none! just pure fluff <3

please excuse any errors !

—♡—

~♡ TATE LANGDON:

before the pandemic, you and your family have moved into the murder house.

the house gave your family a very odd vibe, but nonetheless all of you had to bear with it because it was sold for a cheap price.

but when the pandemic arrived the country, you were stuck at home 24/7. thus, classes were online.

you met tate because of your father. tate was one of his patients and the both of you grew close.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

tate would randomly barge in your room while having a class and you would jump out of shock.

"Jesus, Tate. Stop scaring me like that!"

tate would giggle and lay on your bed, observing the lesson that the teacher rambled about.

while you're writing notes, he would stand up and take a chair from some part of your room and sit beside you.

knowing that tate is clingy, you would warn him not to bug you and behave while you listened in class.

of course, he doesn't listen and he would place his head on your shoulder and eventually would cuddle you.

"Taaate, please let me focus."

luckily, you always keep your camera off.

"Mmm, no. I enjoy bugging you."

~♡ KIT WALKER:

one time, you were driving to school on your own and you were almost running out of gas.

luckily, you saw a gas station nearby and decided to get a fill before heading to school. and there, you met kit.

when you first laid your eyes on kit, you thought that he was the prettiest man ever. you couldn't let this chance slip, thus, you exchanged numbers with him.

you talked all day and night, the both of you were so inlove with each other and you finally decided to introduce him to your parents.

your parents loved him and you were so, so happy.

but when the pandemic came, it affected your relationship with kit.

since all schools and unis were closed down, everything went online.

when kit stayed over, he couldn't spend a lot of time with you because you had to attend classes early in the morning, till afternoon.

"Can you stay in bed with me for a little bit, darling?"

unfortunately, you woke up late that day and you missed 10 minutes of your first class. and just like that, you were stuck to your desk until afternoon.

"Kit baby, I'm sorry. I'm late for my first class. Maybe later, okay?"

as much as kit hated this whole online class thing, he would always find a way to cheer you up.

thus, he would cook you breakfast and bring it over to your room.

"C'mere, I'll feed you while you listen and write down notes."

~♡ KYLE SPENCER (PRE DEATH AND POST DEATH) :

PRE DEATH:

madison, your friend, had bugged you all week to go with her to this college frat party near your house.

you weren't the party type. you loved staying at home, watching netflix or reading some sort of fan fiction on wattpad.

but you hated being single. so, this was your chance to actually get a boyfriend.

when you arrived at the party, you immediately hated it. everything was so loud and everyone was drinking, it was definitely a new sight for you.

you were sitting on a couch that was in the balcony, with a red cup that was filled with punch. you loved being away from the commotion.

this is where you met kyle, it was love at first sight. the both of you had so much in common and you thought that he was the man of your dreams.

you exchanged snapchats and from there, you were partners-in-crime.

you and kyle had stopped going to parties ever since the pandemic arrived, which means you got to see each other less.

since the both of you were students, both of your classes went online.

one time, kyle had no classes for a day and he decided to surprise you.

that day, you were having an online presentation. both your camera and microphone were on.

"Rene Descartes was the Father of Modern Philosophy—"

as you were presenting the slide show, you were cut off by kyle's presence infront of your desk.

"I brought you food, baby!"

you would shush him and suddenly turn off your mic.

"I'm so sorry, Miss. My boyfriend arrived and I—"

kyle would go beside you and kiss you on your cheek, your classmates and teacher cooing over it.

"Miss, you better give my girlfriend a good grade."

POST DEATH:

*pretend that he survived the bus accident and had a coma, because we arent involving witchcraft here*

kyle and his fraternity were on a bus that was going to some college event at school.

on the way there, you guys snapped each other and his friends would talk to you as well.

unfortunately, they got in an accident and the bus was flipped over.

a few students, including kyle, survived the accident.

when you heard this news, you cried your heart out and you didnt talk to anyone in your family.

you and your family visited the hospital and you rushed to kyle's room, it broke your heart to see tubes in him, with machines that beeped like there was no tomorrow.

when the doctor said that kyle was in a coma, your heart sank in the deepest part of your body.

this made you stay 24/7 with him until he was discharged.

when he was discharged from the hospital, he was not his usual self. the bubbly, energetic kyle was gone. instead, he was so confused with everything.

kyle's mom made him stay with you until he got his memory back, and you were more than glad to help.

but this took a toll on your studies because your classes were online due to a pandemic.

everyday in class, you would let kyle sit beside you and let him observe what you were doing.

"We're in Science class, Kyle. You were really good in Science, you helped me alot with my homeworks."

most of the time, you would help kyle develop his speech and his writing. but it was difficult for you.

"S-Sci... S-Sci-en.. ce?"

"Yes, Kyle! Good job, now one more time."

~♡ JIMMY DARLING:

ever since you were a kid, you loved going to carnivals, your parents would always bring you there every weekend.

there were carnivals almost everywhere, and your family brought you to all of them.

to you, each carnival was unique. the clowns and magicians in each carnival had different tricks up their sleeve.

but as you grew up, these carnivals slowly went out of business. except for one, which was elsa's cabinet of curiosities.

you decided to visit it one day just for a trip down memory lane, you never really had expectations for this place.

when you arrived there, there were a few people that were seated.

the show started and it instantly made you smile, they reminded you of your younger days. oh how you wished to be a child again.

you watched through a few acts, and the last act was a man named jimmy darling

when he came on stage, you locked eyes with him. there was something about him that really struck you.

after the performance ended, jimmy ran over to you and got your number. from there, you always talked and you would visit him regularly.

the regular visits stopped when the pandemic struck the country, forcing entertainment establishments, schools and unis to close down.

for the mean time, all your classes went online. you told jimmy that he could stay with you until things went back to normal.

on an early tuesday morning, you were in english class. jimmy was with your parents preparing breakfast, and you were falling asleep while your teacher discussed about the odyssey.

unlike tate, jimmy would always knock on your door. as his mom always taught, never enter anyone's room without knocking.

jimmy would giggle at your sleeping sight, your head lowered and your hair messed up.

"Hey, sweetheart, wake up! You're in class."

jimmy's timing was perfect. as he woke you up, you were called by the teacher.

"Miss Y/N, Do you think Odysseus was loyal to his wife?"

obviously, you panicked. but jimmy was there to save you. since jimmy was fond of reading, he finished the book and he whispered the answer to you before you could turn on your mic.

"No, Ma'am. Odysseus had an affair with Calypso and Circe."

once you got your teacher's approval, you turned off your microphone and let out a sigh of relief.

"You're lucky that I'm here to help you."

jimmy would joke and you would jump up to him, tackling him into a hug.

"I'm always lucky to have you, baby."

~♡ DANDY MOTT

at a young age, you were exposed to different types of fabrics. denim, silk, corduroy, neoprene. they name it, you've probably seen it.

your mother worked as a fashion designer. she managed to open a shop in the city and it was a great success for you and your family.

your mother has styled famous models. because of this, the shop was promoted and broadcasted all over the country. one day when you came from school, you saw a long line outside the shop.

that day, the staff count was low. there were only 5 employees instead of 10. you didn't exactly know why, so you decided to help.

after what felt like several hours, the long line finally dissolved into 2 customers, which was a mother and her son. they looked through the shop and the mother instantly loved everything.

her son, on the other hand, was trying on this lilac tux that your mother made.

you assisted her son and when you locked eyes, the both of you smiled. you entertained him throughout his shopping spree and the both of you never broke eye contact.

this was how you met dandy. he made the first move by getting your number, and of course you gave it back.

from there, the both of you talked day and night, even when you were in school.

since dandy's mother, gloria, loved your mother's shop so much, she would invite you and your mother regularly to her mansion.

gloria and your mother got along very well, and it was like gloria was your second mother.

so when your mother went to paris for a fashion show, she let you stay in gloria's mansion until she came back.

but to your dismay, your mother was not able to come back due to a pandemic that was all over the world. flights, establishments, and schools closed down.

of course you were sad, but you didn't worry so much because gloria treated you like her real daughter.

classes were online and you were forced to attend them everyday in the shared room you had with dandy.

since you had to get ready for class early in the morning, you would quietly get out of bed because dandy was sometimes a light sleeper.

it was around 8am and you were in math class. in your school, cameras were required to be turned on at all times. you thought this was a shit rule, but you had no choice to comply.

you were drawing some circles with a compass for an example that was being discussed by your teacher, when all of a sudden dandy was beside you.

"Dandy, sweetie, what are you doing up so early? Go back to sleep.."

dandy would pout at the lack of attention that you were giving him. since he loved holding your hand, you let him hold your other hand that you didn't use for writing.

"You're doing Math instead of cuddling with me!"

—♡—

i'm actually super proud of this omg !! i hope yall enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🥺❤

—♡—

[buckysdimples]

hello my loves! i think it's about time i drop in my two cents on the anthony mackie situation. fair warning, this is a long post and i don't make an effort to keep my language clean in it.

also important for me to note: i use "you" a lot in this post. it is a general you, directed at the group of people who have caused this problem. i am not directing this at all of the fandom. just the racists who caused it to get this bad in the first place. here we go!

i know people have pointed this out, but i want to make it very clear. yes, anthony mackie did word things strangely. you know what that means of him? that he's human. those of you who actively partake in fandom racism will take any white man doing the bare fucking minimum and elevate him to a pedestal that's unattainable by any people of colour in the same fandom, and as soon as a person of colour makes one (evidently dissonant with past actions) slip-up, they're the latest in the "which poc can we get out of the narrative today" game.

what makes the situation worse? a person of colour, in this case a black man who has consistently been activating and publicly lending support to many different and important causes as well as speaking up about his stance on the very issues that are so near and dear to people of colour in fandom, when they make a misstep, are absolutely torn to shreds.

meanwhile, you as a fandom whole will continue to apologise for white actors who continuously display problematic behavior, sometimes deliberately, and you either ignore it completely or make up some bullshit excuse to defend it. i'm not going to name names in this post, it detracts from the whole idea that i'm trying to get across, but these people are some of the biggest names in fandom. it is sometimes repulsive how you will use willful ignorance to apologise for them.

additionally, the full context of the interview with variety lends itself to many flaws, which you can read about in this phenomenal post by @thetransguard. the part of the fandom that attempted to eat mackie alive (which is most of the fandom) completely fucking missed this. it almost seems like you who went after him were searching for yet another reason to "fuck [poc name here], stan [white man 30495834] instead!" which honestly, is absolutely the case.

and that makes me fucking livid. you who are ripping him apart right now, your only concern for mackie and his character, sam wilson, has been sebastian stan and bucky barnes. mackie attends any interview, including interviews that are supposed to celebrate his achievements? he's only asked about sebastian stan. white fans discuss and love on "sambucky"? sam is just whatever trope he needs to be to make bucky cry, or smile, or feel better, or feel safe, and that is the extent of his character. that's disgusting. do you understand that?

stupid question. evidently not. mackie brings up valid points that yall stucky fans and now stucky turned sambucky fans continue to miss, he makes these points in admittedly a convolutedly worded fashion, but he makes them regardless. and you know what the other problem with white fans' reaction to it is? this is exactly what fans of colour in your very own beloved fandom have been trying to tell you. we attempted to make these points during the show. you know, when you lot were throwing steve in every damn chance you got and centering the show around bucky and steve and steve and bucky and who's sam? we don't know sam. all we know is a black guy who got steve's shield, and he won't pick it up, and that makes bucky sad, and bucky's doing his best, okay, he's not ignorant, sam's just mean to him, and--

it's fucking draining. from the beginning, this has been about sebastian stan and bucky barnes. you who are ripping anthony mackie to shreds were never here for him in the first place. you never listened to him. you never saw his character for who sam wilson was. and that's coming to a head in how you are receiving his words. and are you truly missing the point of his words? or is there another reason why you took apart that evidently hate-bait headline and used that specific word choice, when it was fucking clear mackie had a point that was an overtone to the words he chose, to turn mackie into a paragon of homophobia and problematic behavior?

yes, i believe there is. because it's the same fucking reason you will drown out the voices of fans of colour when we call you out for the utter bullshit you spout in regards to the media you are incapable of consuming beyond a shipping lens. it is the reason you take it upon yourselves to slam fans of colour for being selfish, or inserting into the narrative something that to your shallow interpretation wasn't intended, or reminding you that sam wilson, anthony mackie's character, is more than a racist trope prop for your favourite white character(s).

you will bemoan the lack of bisexual bucky in canon. you will throw bucky with any white man he looks once at. you will lament how "rude" poc fans are being when they ask you to focus on sam and his story. you take poc fans, black fans especially, talking and clearing up the commentary on racial and class themes that the show attempts to address, and you will tell all of us that "it's not that deep." you will turn around and shit all over bucky and sarah. sam and bucky to you is a prop to make your newly minted m/m ship canon, because stucky never became canon the way you insist it should have. that's the core of the problem, we say, that wanting the m/m ship to be canon has shifted from wanting representation to wanting two men, generally two white men, to kiss on screen so you can go crazy about it. bucky and zemo will never be canon. bucky and john walker will never be canon. you saw sam and bucky and you said, this is stucky 2.0, and you centered it around bucky and steve as an invisible third party. that is what you are advocating for. that is what mackie fucking addressed.

so the reason? the reason is that you know we're right and we have been right all along, but you're too fucking thickheaded to acknowledge that as a respectful human being. so instead, you turn to whatever the hell you can twist mackie's words into, and attempt to get him out of the fandom picture altogether. that's it, isn't it?

how fucking detestable.

just read the goddamn interview, read mackie's other interviews if you need to, and stop ignoring the truth of the messages he is trying to convey. maybe it'll do you some good to watch and read mackie solo interviews as opposed to sebastian and mackie interviews where all you focus on is the relationship between those two actors, completely ignoring what they, especially and generally mackie, are trying to convey. that's another problem, isn't it?

full circle. stop being fucking tone deaf and listen to poc fans and actors for once in your privileged, entitled lives.

thank you for reading all the way through.

[reidyoulikeabook]

Invisible String

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Spencer Reid don’t know it, but you’ve almost met quite a few times. What happens when you do?

A/N: This is potentially a bit on the wrong side of the cheesy line, but I was listening to invisible string by Taylor Swift and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Pls bare in mind I’m from the UK and my only understanding of the US college system is from Google searches, so pls be forgiving of any misunderstandings about that.

November 6th, 2007

Dr. Spencer Reid. As you sat, thumbing through the article he’d written about the formation of ionic compounds in a chemical whose name you could not for the life of you spell or pronounce, you couldn’t help but resent the man.

Sure, the paper was very well-written and as cohesive as possible given the complex subject matter. But Dr. Spencer Reid, whoever he was, was the current source of your resentment at selecting chemistry to make up your science credit. Highlighting the name of a substance you’d have to look up later, you sighed. It was getting late but you had to hand in a critical summary of the paper on Friday.

It didn’t help that Dr. Reid was: a) a triple doctorate holder by the age of 22, or b) that your chemistry lecturer was none other than his old chemistry lecturer from Caltech and practically glowed with pride whenever he got to bring him up.

You chew on the end of your pen, having now distracted yourself from the notes. Not that you were particularly focused anyway.

In another life, maybe you’d have been a budding chemist who could describe an ionic lattice off rote. In this one, however, you’d just have to settle for slogging through the list of chemical processes and hoping you understood it well enough to please Dr. Reid’s biggest fan.

***

April 16th, 2008

Spencer hated flaking on commitments. It caused him a great deal of anxiety, the feeling of disappointing someone. He didn’t have much choice in this circumstance though.

Diana had taken ill over the last weekend. Nothing serious, some stomach bug or other. She’d become severely dehydated though, and had been hospitalised as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, he might not have gone if she hadn’t caught him on the phone. He was already feeling guilty for not having visited since Christmas. He wrote her letters everyday, yet still felt like he was neglecting his duties as a son. Rubbing his hands over his face, he lets out a deep sigh. Then takes out his laptop, to send another email.

Dear. Dr Abraham

I sincerely apologise again for my last minute cancellation. Excluding any unforeseen circumstances, myself and SSA Hotchner will be available to present the lecture on May 12th.

Yours sincerely,

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

May 12th, 2008

Considering this was your third year on campus, you sure were bad at finding your way around. In your defence, they were doing maintenance in one of the main buildings, meaning that lectures got shuffled around and relocated. You probably had a higher change of attending the right lecture by accident than on purpose.

It doesn’t help that you’re running a little late this morning. You rush into Room 203. A lot of the seats are taken, you have to meander your way past quite a few people until you end up sat almost directly in the middle. Only moments before the lecture starts.

“I’m SSA Hotchner, and this is SSA Reid. We’re members of the BAU which is based at FBI quarters in Quantico. Today, we’ll be talking to you about profiling.”

This is not your forensic linguistics lecture.

Panic hits you, hot in your gut. Scanning the room anxiously, you suddenly become conscious that you’re drawing attention to yourself when you feel the eyes of the man who is not SSA Hotchner on you. Fuck.

There’s no way for you to escape now, not without disturbing half the lecture hall.

So you sit back in your seat, resigning yourself to sit awkwardly in the lecture you’re not supposed to be in and hoping nobody notices.

But then, it’s really interesting, actually. The work that Dr. Reid does sounds similar to work you’ve done in forensic linguistics, analysing patterns of speech and minor phrase formations that can give things away about the perpetrator. By the end of the seminar, you’re sat leaning forward. Enraptured by almost every word coming out of their mouths.

It seems to be the general mood: everyone is enamoured. People are clammering to speak to them at the end. After a brief inner battle, myou decide that you should talk to them too.

What’s the harm?

You’ve decided that you’ll speak to Dr. Reid, since he seems to share more of a field focus. However, as you’re heading down, you spot him. Dr Adams, your chemistry lecturer from last year. Oh shit, it’s that Dr. Reid.

Speaking to SSA Hotchner will just have to do instead.

----

“I’ve been majoring in forensic linguistics and criminal psychology,” You tell him, “Do you think ... I mean, I know it’s a pretty exclusive team to get on to. But is that the kind of thing that could maybe get me there one day?”

Hotchner nods, “Forensic linguistics is something that comes in very useful in the investigative aspects of cases. The FBI is always looking for new angles and perspectives, those are both good subjects to study if you were thinking of signing up to the academy.”

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” You say, suddenly a little bashful as you notice the queue of people lingering behind you, “That was a really interesting lecture. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”

“You should talk to Dr. Reid if you have a particular interest in the linguistic aspect of profiling. He’s more specialised in that area than I am. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to discuss any research you’re conducting at the moment and suggest materials that might be helpful in furthering your understanding of the area.”

“Thank you,” You smile, and he nods at you again.

Stepping away from Agent Hotchner, you look to your right. Dr. Reid is still engaged deeply in conversation with Dr. Adams. You glance at your watch. There was time before your next class, you supposed, so you could wait. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it? It wasn‘t like you were getting your hopes up or anything.

It’s then that you feel a pair of arms around your waist, a familiar scent of cologne.

“Hey!” You whip around to see your boyfriend, grinning widely.

“Hey,” You reply, “How’d you find me?”

“I was walking past when I saw you talking to that FBI agent. Seriously, FBI?” He asks, with a disapproving quirk of his eyebrow, “You want to grab a coffee before Psych?”

You want to say no. But he’s got his hand on the small of your back, leading  you out of the room before you even get a chance to reply. You glance back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Dr. Reid for all of two seconds before you’re swept away.

“Seriously though babe, FBI?”

Unsurpisingly, you don’t mention your potential change in career path to him.

***

March 8th, 2009

“Come in,” Hotch calls. He looks up from the paperwork on his desk to see Spencer entering the room, clutching a report in his hand.

“That last case we were on. I was doing some more research, just for future reference about linguistic patterns. Have you read this?” He asks, sliding a copy of your paper across the desk.

Hotch gives it a cursary look over, nodding, “Yes. It’s interesting. She’s signed up as an NAT. I believe I actually spoke to her at one of our lectures last year.”

"Her work is really impressive for somebody whose only studied this at a master level.”

Hotch almost smiles, “Yes. That’s exactly why I’ve recommended to the bureau that she signs up for profiling classes. Her work shows a lot of promise. They’re sending over a copy of her completed thesis, if you’d like to read it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thank you,” Spencer says, struggling to conceal the smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I’ll email it to you as soon as I receive it.”

Spencer nods, smiling properly to himself as he leaves the room. It wasn’t unusual, exactly, for him to share new research that was relevant to cases. It was important that they all kept themselves fresh and acquainted with new theories about the field. Hotch, however, didn’t miss the excited way Spencer had presented it to him. Talking about how impressive you were, as if to subtly hint. He thinks it’s quite typical, actually, that Spencer could take such an interest in someone he only knew via an essay.

Although Spencer’s response does get Hotch to send a follow-up email, inquiring about whether you’d agreed to the classes. If Spencer was this impressed with your work, it must be good.

***

June 1st, 2009

The Metro that morning is packed. It doesn’t help that you’ve not been living here long, and don’t exactly know the route from your flat to the station off by heart yet.

You'd also had to make a detour to the post office. Your, firmly ex, boyfriend had mailed over the last of your things. Really, it was good riddance. His hounding you about your choice in job had only worsened. The relationship had been hanging on by a thread long before you’d moved away last month. You were more than a little grateful that it was finally over, that you could draw a line under it all and focus on your career.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped you having a little cry to yourself on the way over.

Rushing, you make it onto the Metro just as the doors are about to close, falling against the railing on the left side. You grip onto it for dear life.

On the other side of the carriage, Spencer notices someone hurrying for the train. He had been buried deep in the paper he's reading, but the bustle had pulled his attention. Your back is to him, and there’s a scarf at your feet. He wants to say something, to try and get your attention, but he can’t from where he is.

“Miss, I think you’ve dropped something,” The woman you’re standing in front of says, gesturing to the scarf pooled at your feet.

You meet her eyes, sniffling slightly, “Thank you.”

Spencer watches as you pick it up, back still to him. Crisis averted, he turns his attention back to what he's reading: the published copy of your thesis Hotch had emailed him last week.

***

September 2nd, 2009

"This is SSA ____, the newest member of our team. She’s recently graduated from the academy and has an excellent knowledge of linguistics that the bureau feels will be a great advantage to this team. She’s had her induction and now will be joining the team on a probationary basis. She’ll be spending a little time with each of you in between cases to make sure she forms well-rounded knowledge of all aspects of what we do.”

It’s a little overwhelming, having everybody’s eyes on you.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily is the first over, offering her hand for you to shake.

“You too, it’s really nice to meet all of you,” You say, shaking hands in turn with her, Morgan, Rossi, J.J, and Garcia.

“Hi,” Spencer calls from behind you.

You turn around to face him. You remember what Hotch had mentioned to you about him being a bit of a germaphobe, so you keep your hand by your side.

“Hi,” You say, “Dr. Reid, right?”

“You can call me Spencer,” He says, a little bashful, “I read your thesis, the study about you did about the construction of passive clauses as an indicator of guilt in adolescent offenders. It was fascinating.”

You feel yourself getting a little warm under his gaze, “Thank you. I'm surprised you’re even aware it existed.”

Hotch interrupts then, “Reid, do you want to sit with ____ while she goes over the case file? It’d be useful if you could go over how you’d go about constructing a linguistic profile.”

That’s how you end up spending much of your first day: with Spencer, huddled up over case files as he explains his profile-building process to you. Spencer’s an incredible teacher, you think. He explains his thought process without ever being condescending, leaving little gaps for you to answer.

You’re incredible, Spencer thinks. You seem to grasp exactly what he’s saying, filling in the gaps based on the clues that are actually in front of you, not letting yourself be guided too much by bias.

***

October 29th, 2009

Spencer loves everyone at the BAU. They’re all the family he never had, and he has relatively good friendships with all of them. Just, they aren’t quite the same as they are with you.

He struggles to put his finger on it, exactly. It’s a unique relationship. He shares very familial bonds with a lot of them: he and Morgan are brotherly, Rossi is fatherly, Garcia’s somewhat like an overexcited little sister.

The friendship he has with you is special. You always listen to him, even as he rambles on about inane things that anybody else would tell him to shut up about. In fact, sometimes about the exact things that they do tell him to shut up about. Just last week, he was rambling on about Star Trek when Morgan told him, not altogether unkindly, to “give it a rest, kid.”

“What was that you were saying?” You’d asked, sidling up to him, “I’ve never watched Star Trek but I thought the quote was beam me up Scotty.”

He’d looked at you, considering you for a moment, “You don’t have to-”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know Spence. You think I’d ask for a 15 minute lecture on Star Trek if I wasn’t interested in it?”

A warm feeling flooded his chest. The look on your face was so genuine, and you’d perched on the edge of his desk as he gesticulated, getting deep into the lore and how the misconception had come about. He still didn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, until he got to the end of his spiel. And then you asked him a question. You asked him a question to make sure you understood what he was talking about. You were listening the whole time, and you genuinely cared about the point he was making.

It's then that he realises, it was hard to pinpoint because it wasn’t friendship. He likes you. Shit.

***

November 2nd, 2009

You like everybody at the BAU. They’re all quite patient with you, really, happy to walk you through how they do things. Morgan’s taught you quite a bit about the tactical side of things already, and Rossi has been working with you on your interrogation techniques. Emily’s generally just a great mentor, always happy to listen and support however she can. She’s more experienced, but still relatively new to the team too, so you feel like there’s a certain understanding between you.

However, you’d definitely be lying if you said the person you hadn’t learnt the most from, or spent the most time with, was Spencer.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, either. You seemed to gravitate towards one another, forever sitting side-by-side on the plane. Sharing a line of thinking that usually led to devolved rambling, and scribbling, until you came up with something coherent.

It isn’t until November 2nd that you realise you have feelings for him.

You’re sitting at your desk, filling out a case report that Emily had promised to go over with you before she left for lunch.

“Hey,” Spencer’s familiar soothing voice comes, as he sidles up to you, “I got you something.”

Looking up, you notice the coffee cup in his right hand, “You are my caffeine lifesaver.”

He hands it to you, smiling a little nervously, “It’s actually not that.”

“Oh?”

His other hand is tucked behind his back, and he pulls it foward towards you, brandishing a red sweatshirt.

“I know you uh, left your red sweater behind at the hotel on the last case. And I know it was your favourite one, and I was shopping yesterday and I saw this and...” He trails off, embarassed, “It’s not the exact same, but it’s the same kind. I just thought you might like it.”

You swallow, hard, “Spencer that’s so sweet. C-Can I hug you?”

He nods. Standing up from your desk, you wrap your arms around his frame.

“That was so thoughtful.”

He squeezes you a little, really leaning into the hug, his face pressing against your shoulder. His tousled hair tickles your nose a little and you smile, clinging onto him, relishing in the feeling of safety and warmth.

It hits you then. When you realise you don’t want to let go. When you realise he makes you feel fuzzy. Loved. Cared for in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Eventually, you have to let him go, and it’s in a daze that you return to your desk. You’re so concentrated on your overwhelming realisation, you don’t realise how reluctant he is to let you leave his embrace.

***

December 22nd, 2009

Driving Spencer home from the office was really just an excuse to get some time alone with him. You’d said something about the Metro being busy, one of the services being cancelled. He hadn’t factchecked you on that.

The BAU had tentative plans for boxing day, with the caveat being that no emergent cases arrived in the meantime. It was only really four days you wouldn’t see him, but that was longer than you’d ever gone without seeing him in all the time you’d known him. You worked together everyday, and it was unusual for you to go a full weekend without seeing each other. Recently, you’d got into the habit of going out for Sunday brunch together.

Pulling up outside his house, you hear him sigh.

“I know it’s only four days, but I’ll miss you.”

Smiling, you turn to him, “I’ll miss you too.” 

Something in you changes then. He’s looking at you. You may be relatively new to profiling but you can see something behind his eyes, feel the charge of unsaid words electrifying the air.

“Can I hug you?” He asks.

“You can always hug me,” You reply, undoing your seatbelt and opening your arms for him.

He embraces you the way he always has: tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go, couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. His face nuzzles to the crook of your neck, and then you feel his thumb brush your chin. Tilting your head down.

You exchange a look. His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, and back. You nod your head, just slightly.

He kisses you then. Tender. You melt into one another, lips moving quickly as you drink one another in. Kissing each other breathless, your fingers intertwine in his hair and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Nothing has ever felt so right.

***

June 10th, 2011

Neither of you have ever really believed in fate. It’s hard to - especially in your line of work - to want to interpret the workings of the universe as deliberate. Maybe you’d think a little differently though, if you knew about all the near-misses. All the times you could have met. But fate knew better. She waited until you were ready.

And as you exchange vows, promising each other your forever, you both know you couldn’t possibly deny that this was meant to be.

------

Taglists: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician

(let me know if you would like to be added to/removed from this list!)

[biromanticbooknook]

My Most Ambitious Crossover

I got bored by posting only my second gen Amazon AU, so I’ll get back to that tomorrow, but enjoy this one-shot about Chloe and Marinette creating their own trip instead of their class trip in the meantime. Can’t have you all thinking I’m a one-trick pony, can I?

“-and that’s why we think you shouldn’t go on the trip this year.” Mlle. Bustier tried to look apologetic, but it was as much her idea as the students. Between Marinette refusing to set an example and Chloe associating with her, neither of them deserved to go.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid I would have to get my daddy to donate 30% of the funds like he does every year.”

“I’m just glad I don’t have to take 60% of the trip funds out of my commission profits. That will give me a much bigger budget for fabric and accessories.” Everyone blanched at the statements of the 2 girls. They were saying that they paid for 90% of the trip every year, but that couldn’t be right. They worked so hard on fundraisers every year, they must be lying about how much they contribute.

Marinette just ignored them, turning to her seatmate. “Do you think that our other friends would want to go on a trip with us? Most classes take their trips during May, so we could leave at the beginning of June and take the entire summer.”

“Nice thinking, Maribug. With fewer people, prices go down and we can afford more bang for our buck.” They walk out of the classroom, discussing who to ask and when.

The class just made a big mistake.

-----

By the time the weekend rolled around, Marinette and Chloe had their group list finalized. The people going on their trip were themselves, Luka, Kagami, Aurore, Mireille, and Marc. They got together and started brainstorming fundraisers.

Marinette started. “There are the given examples; you know, car wash, bake sale, raffle. What else?”

“We could host a show.” Luka suggested.

“Like an exhibition?” Marinette asked. “We could have you perform, Kagami do a fencing demonstration, and I could do a small fashion show, using Chloe and Marc as models. Aurore and Mireille could be our MCs.”

“To capitalize on money-making, we could sell tickets, food and drink, and merch for Luka’s solo career as well as commission spots for our resident designer.”

“That’s good.” Marinette starts scribbling in the shared notebook.

“At Le Grande Paris, we could host parties. I know days when the grand ballroom is open. We could host an auction, sell lessons and creations and stuff. We could also host a masquerade ball that we sell tickets for. We could charge for food and drink. The pools are open for private reservation quite often, we could have parties there too.” Chloe takes the notebook and starts writing down her ideas, mapping out all the resources needed while muttering.

“We could also host a carnival or a gaming tournament in the ballroom.” Kagami looked thoughtful. “I’ve never actually been to one.”

Chloe added that to the list. “Should we do anything else?”

“We could start a go-fund-me. Artists and writers do it all the time to get their creations off the ground.” Marc murmured.

“That would be great. What’s our goal for this entire endeavor?”

“Our goal, Maribug, is €45,000. That should cover travel, boarding, tours, food, and souvenirs. Whatever we don’t spend gets redistributed to the group.” Chloe supplies.

“Then that should be it. Nice job, guys!”

“My, what a whirlwind of a planning session. I hope nothing rains on our parade. I wonder weather Mlle. Bustier’s class is doing this well.” Aurore beams at them.

“Mm-hmm.” Mireille agrees with Aurore.

“Probably not. Our classmates couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. They’ll just listen to Lila that the boot will empty by itself through the toe because ‘I worked on patenting this boot’, then they’ll get mad at the boot for not doing it.” Chloe chuckles dryly.

“Be nice.” Marinette reprimands half-heartedly.

-----

Chloe immediately filed the paperwork with the school board so they could go on their trip with no safety or legal concerns. She recruited Mme. Mendeleiev and M. D'Argencourt to be their chaperones, who were more than happy to go on an all-expenses-paid trip to Los Angeles, Star City, Central City, Metropolis, Gotham, New York City, and Tokyo.

They had their first fundraiser at the end of September, a pool party at Le Grande Paris. Even Mlle. Bustier’s class attended, though they didn’t know who had set it up, only that Luka was performing. They hadn’t even started their planning  yet. The group made €3,041.

The next was a car wash in the middle of October. It was cool enough for a car wash to be pleasant while being warm enough that everyone was still out and about. They earned €2,632. Bustier's class was getting ice cream and listening to Lila brag.

They then had an All Hallow’s Eve bake sale, complete with candy decoration reminiscent of the American holiday. They earned €1,800.

During November, they held a carnival, with a full fall theme. It was wildly popular with families from all over Paris, earning them €6,483. It was around this time that Mlle. Bustier’s class held a bake sale, and earned €1,594. They celebrated.

Throughout the holiday season, they took advantage of peoples’ spirit. They held a raffle throughout the 12 Days of Christmas, while also holding a bake sale the day before winter break. Overall, they earned €10,749.

Over winter break, Chloe bought plane tickets and reserved tours and hotels, so all that was left was to get money for the tours and food. They were over halfway to their goal.

During January, they rented a theater, and held their exhibition. They had a crowd of fencing enthusiasts, rock music lovers, and fashion followers. They made €5,830.

They held a date auction and a masquerade to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was amazing, and they earned €7,284.

They had checked their go-fund-me, and had found that €10,000 was there, putting them €2,819 over their goal. They were ecstatic!

They still held the gaming tournament at the end of April, but let it be free for everyone to enjoy as their celebration of reaching their goal.

-----

Mlle. Butsier’s class had made €7,000 over their 3 fundraisers, and they were pretty proud of themselves. No doubt they would be going somewhere much better than whatever Maribrat and Chloe have planned. Once the girls walked into the classroom, the class started to brag.

“We’ve finished fundraising!”

Marinette smiled and decided to be nice to them. “Cool. Where are you going?”

“We are going to New York City.”

Chloe was not as kind. “Oh, so are we! It was so hard to raise the €45,000 needed for our trip, but we did it. It was so euphoric to meet our goal. How much did you guys raise?”

“We made €7,000.” The smiles slowly slipped off the faces of the class. “What do you mean the €45,000 needed?”

“Well, we needed to cover food, travel, boarding, and tours, and that was just for the 7 of us. I can’t imagine what the budget would’ve been like for an entire class.” Her smile got an edge, like a lioness who knew she had cornered her prey.

Her classmates blanched. “What was our budget, Alya?” Rose looked towards their new class representative, hoping that she had an answer.

“We never had one.”

“Well, at least you filed the paperwork right?”

“What paperwork?”

Marinette responded this time. “The paperwork needed to go on a trip. You were supposed to submit it to the school board for approval of safety and legality. It was on page 17 of the packet I gave you at the beginning of the year. Didn’t you read it, Alya?”

“I-I-no. Lila said that was just extra work that you had given me to throw me off my game. She said you didn’t actually need to do all of that.”

“I didn’t know that Lila had more experience being a class representative than me and Marinette, the only 2 people who have ever been class representative here.” Chloe’s voice became as sharp and sweet as her smile. “Well, have fun with your trip. Marinette and I have to do last-minute checks on our arrangements.”

The class looked at the people that had carried them the previous years, and realized how much they relied on the girls. Lila was cursing herself for pushing away the only people who actually did anything in this class.

-----

The class ended up going to Disneyland Paris, and tried their best to look as upbeat as possible on their social medias. Meanwhile, The group was having the time of their lives.

They stayed in LA for 2 weeks, visiting movie sets and meeting actors. They spent another week just going on everything at Disneyland and California Adventure.

They then spent a week in Star City, touring Queen Industries and having a meet and greet with Oliver Queen and his ward, Roy Harper, who seemed to enjoy Aurore’s outgoing personality. They even saw the vigilantes.

They spent another 2 weeks in Central City, touring STAR Labs and watching the rogues try to fight the Flash family. It was the most meta-filled city in the world, and They toured a forensics lab with Bart Allen. Chloe seemed grimly pleased with seeing the bodies. She might’ve been projecting certain people onto them, not that she would ever admit it.

2 weeks in Metropolis was really fun. They toured the Daily Planet with Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Mireille was amazed by what you could do to report without having to be in front of a screen. They made a scavenger hunt of how many Supers they could find, and they found 2 different superboys. Lex Corp also gave them a tour, although it was more professional than the tour of the Daily Planet.

They spent 1 week in Gotham. They toured Wayne Enterprises and stayed out of the Bats’ way. Luka got the phone number of Tim Drake. Marinette enjoyed the inspiration that the gothic architecture brought her. There wasn’t much of a nightlife scene, considering only fools stay out after dark in Gotham.

Their 1 week in New York City was hectic. The Avengers were all at the tower when they were touring with Pepper Potts by Chloe’s request. Chloe might’ve been unofficially adopted by Tony Stark when she stood up to them and made them ‘cease their bullshit’. The Black Widow also took a liking to the girl. They also ran into these weird teens muttering about monsters when they were waiting for the elevator at the Empire State Building.

2 weeks in Tokyo. Their last stop. They visited the prestigious Ouran Academy, the host club getting Marc to come out of their shell by constantly helping boost his self-esteem. Chloe enjoyed talking business and finances with Kyoya Ootori. Kagami led them all in a traditional tea ceremony, before they all stormed the streets to try the unfamiliar street food.

Marinette ended up being unofficially adopted by 3 heroes, 2 rogues, and 5 billionaires. She was happy getting to spend 7 weeks on the road with only her closest friends.

The class was incredibly jealous of the trip their classmates took. They hoped next year they could go on a trip like that as well, but they had missed their shot.

[dooodle-bug]

Headcanon list for my pmtok ocs

uhhh haha not to be Cringe, but I really wanted to be self indulgent and drop some headcanons for my beloved sonas ocs so here ya go!

Explorer Koopa:

-She/her pronouns

-Her actual name is "Jia" apparently nobody calls her that-

-Spawns after Streamer Cleared in every location somewhere doin something chill like walking around or hanging. The only exception to this is Hot Foot Crater and Origami Castle, which she Does Not go to for obvious reasons-

-When you talk to her, she says something like "Oh hey Mario I'm just chillin around btw did you know that [insert fun fact relevant to current location]??" also, like other NPCs, she repeats the messages as NPCs do

-Talking to her is completely optional and something players would probably only do when Backtracking or just to read the funny dialogue, but after talking to her in EVERY location at least once, she is most pleased by your pursuit of knowledge and trivia and rewards you with the "Kurious Koopa" Trophy, which is necessary for 100% game completion.

-But other than that she just doesn't do much but hang around as any other ordinary NPC-

-In terms of backstory, upon first meeting her, she introduces herself by stating how she is a college student travelling about for research and interest in learning more about this funny world, wanting to ramble about fun facts to anyone who's interested in listening and that's about it-

-To be a bit more in depth, she actually goes to the same college that Professor Toad works at! She takes a ton of minors (Prof's class coincidentally being one of them), but I think she'd major in biology or history or something-

-Interestingly, despite being a Koopa, she really doesn't have much affliction with Bowser's army, for no reason in particular other than she just. Wasn't into working for him, choosing to instead Pursue for Knowledge bc why tf not-

-Childhood and junk was. Pretty Normal for a koopa, nothing too wild or wacky-

-Uhh she's roughly in her early to mid 20s and has been attending that college for roughly 2-ish years-

-Now, personality wise, she's quite softspoken and shy, typically keeping to herself and her studies, however, when discussing any of her interests, she immediately gets super-duper excitable and energetic, going on about all this trivia and stuff she knows regarding the topic-

-Despite being rather shy, she is well-meaning, wanting to help out and Educate the world-

Sticky Note

-They/them pronouns

-Guardian of the Peach Streamer, an optional, non canon streamer present as a DLC.

-Referred to as "Sticky Note" instead of "Post-It" due to the fact that post-it is probably a copyrighted label I probably couldn't use legally- Also Sticky Note just works as a Generalized term.

-Is a pretty big cube, being about 14 feet tall.

-While I don't completely have an idea for their zone down, I can imagine it being some sort of mountainous, rocky location. Speaking of which, you gotta Ascend the mountain to the top peak where the streamer resides. Regardless, I'll need to work out the details at a later date.

-Sticky's personality can be summarized as "the kid who hates everyone and does the entire group project out of spite".

-They take on the personality of some sort of Guardian, peace-keeper, or better yet, Detective as they, in their mind, defeand the world by solving problems, cleaning up the messes, and giving those No-Good bad guys what they deserve.

-In reality, they have a backwards way of thinking, actually being the amoral one who is bossy, judgemental, and single minded, blinded by their annoyance of everyone.

-Theyre also quite nitpicky, quickly casting judgement the moment you fuck up, even a little.

-in terms of gimmick and battle strategy, they use their post it's to close you into a lil "prison". They cover the tiles with notes, making them unrecognizable and thus, unusable (however they can be washed away with the water vellumental). Their other moves compose of body slamming, using their post it's to sorta toss you around and all that good stuff.

Aaannndd that's about all I have! Thank you to whomever took time to read the entire thing, I appreciate it! Like usual, feel free to ask any questions!

[serendipitystyles]

Congratulations

Pairing: Baseball!Harry x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: When Harry sees you ‘flirting’ with a guy at one of his games, you have to reassure him that you’re his and only his.

Warning(s): Flashbacks, bias, baseballrry, jealousy, argument, poorly written smut (face fucking) {the characters at the time of the smut are seniors in high school and are 18 years old}

A/N: This is my first completely written smut and it’s not even like, actual sex, but yeah. This is definitely the first one that I’ve ever posted, so please be nice :)). I am aware that it’s definitely awful, but I had an idea and I wrote it :)).

Masterlist

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Make sure to reblog to share with your friends! You can talk to me about any and everything here! And as always, if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all :)))

*

Baseball players were obnoxious. They were loud and over the top in everything that they did. They were the only team at school that actually won anything, so they thought that they were the absolute best, and they would rub that in anyone’s face whenever they got the chance. 

The part that made you hate them the most, however, was the fact that every single one of them is attractive. They were hot and they all knew it. This wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t flaunt themselves and watch all the girls fall to their knees for them.

Well, mostly all the girls. You wouldn’t be caught dead with any of the baseball players. You made that abundantly clear every chance that you got, and most of them seemed to understand. 

Actually, all of them understood except for one. The one you hated the most. The captain of the baseball team, the best looking one of all, Harry Styles. 

He was as egotistical and narcissistic as they come. He watched girls fawn over him and made it into a joke. He would see how far he could string them along before breaking it off, only to see them fall apart. 

He was a dick and you could not stand to even be in the same room as him. You rolled your eyes every time that he looked in your direction and you ignored him every time that he tried to talk to you.

Until the day that the worst thing that could have ever happened in Chemistry class unfolded. 

It was the beginning of the second semester, which meant that everyone got a new lab partner. To everyone in the class, it made absolutely no sense, but Mrs. Madison was always going on and on about the fact that the class needed to make new friends and branch out more, Which, apparently, she thought would be accomplished by making you work with a random person for an hour every day while doing labs in the absolute worst subject in school. 

Every attempt to complain about the changes, however, were completely futile. She didn’t have a single care in the world for the wants of her class, she just did what she wanted.

Which was apparently making your life a living hell.

She went through the roster, randomly assigning partners until she got to your name.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles.” You tried your best to hide the grimace that had etched its way onto your features and the groan of frustration that was fighting to come out.You had looked over at him, hoping that he would complain and she would change partners, seeing as she had always had a soft spot for Harry, but to no avail. He had a wide grin on his face, as if hearing that sentence had made his week.

And so it started, the hour every day that would rarely be spent working, but more so to get to know one another better. At first, it had been him trying to get to know you better, but eventually, you had loosened up, had realized that if you were going to be stuck with him, then you might as well be civil.

“Come on, Y/N, just tell me something about you.” He had whined.

“What do you wanna know, Styles?” You could tell by the look in his eyes that you had caught him off guard. He had thought that he would have to work harder to get you to tell him something.

“Anything, anything at all.” He looked genuinely interested and you couldn't help but shake the feeling that maybe you were wrong about him. But that was absurd, right?

“I like photography and I write sometimes.” You had mumbled, hoping that he wouldn’t hear. Of course, he did hear it, every single word of it. 

But he didn’t make fun of you like you had thought he would, he had just softly smiled at you, mumbled a “thanks” and then continued with the lab.

Weeks passed and every class period was getting easier and easier to attend, until one day, you found yourself actually looking forward to the class. You were absolutely perplexed. Who in their right minds actually looked forward to chemistry? You couldn’t fathom why your attitude had suddenly shifted. That is, until you walked into the classroom and saw him sitting there.

Who would’ve thought? Harry Styles was the reason that you were excited to come to chemistry. It had taken him mere weeks to tear down the walls that you had worked so hard to keep up.

It was like he hadn’t even tried. He had just been nice. And for the first time ever, you didn’t think that he had been doing it to use you. He had been genuinely nice and you had fallen for it. You had become just like every other girl in the school.

You had fallen for the boy with the pretty green eyes. It wasn't like you had just taken one look at him and fallen, though. That’s where you were different. It had taken you weeks. But it still happened nonetheless. He still ended up with you wrapped around his finger.

‘Now it’s just a matter of time before he uses it against me,’ you had thought to yourself before taking your seat next to him.

It had been two years since that day. You were now seniors and he had yet to use it against you. In fact, he had fallen for you before you had fallen for him and he was ecstatic when he found out that you had feelings for him.

He had been the perfect boyfriend for two years and counting. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. 

Everyone thought he was the absolute perfect man, and really, he was. There was only one thing about him that you could ever complain about, and honestly, you couldn’t even call it a flaw. 

Harry just had the tendency to get jealous. Of course, he trusted you. It’s just that he didn’t trust everyone else. 

And that’s the exact reason that you’re in the situation with Harry that you are.

“Why him? You could’ve cheated with anyone, why’d you pick him?” He runs a shaking hand through his unruly curls that were still drenched with sweat. “You know how I feel about that piece of shit.” He stops for a moment, looking you in the eyes, and you can see the anger burning behind the jade irises. “That’s why you did it, isn’t it?” He accuses.

“Harry, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t cheat on you!” You throw your hands up in the air, frustrated by the fact that he won’t listen to you and hurt because he thinks you would actually do such a thing. “Why would I cheat on you? especially with him?”

“I don’t know!” He yells, not being able to contain it any longer. “Everyone fucking warned me, don’t get too attached to someone, you’ll get your heart broken.” He looks in your direction, but you can tell that he’s not actually looking at you. “What they never told me, though, is that I would fall so in love with someone only for them to rip my heart out of my chest and beat it repeatedly with a sledgehammer.” He’s back to pacing around the room, looking everywhere but you. “I told them all, ‘no, it’ll be fine. I love her. She loves me. We’ll be alright. That won’t happen.’ But maybe I was wrong. Maybe they had a point.” 

“Will you please let me explain myself, H?” You try, wanting to get him to see the truth in the situation and not what he wants to see just because he hates Malachi. “Just let me tell you what happened and then we can talk, please.” You beg him. All you need is a few seconds and everything can be fixed. You can cuddle up to your loving boyfriend and put everything behind you. Or maybe you can congratulate him on the fourth win of the season, leaving his team undefeated.

He doesn’t seem to hear your question, though, and he mumbles something. At first, your brain doesn’t register what’s been said, but then you process. It hits you like a train, and you’re speechless for a moment. Everything that had been floating around in your head left the moment that you realized how he was really feeling.

Apparently, you go without saying anything for too long, being completely shell-shocked and all, so he repeats himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him the first time. “Am I not good enough?” He finally stops pacing, looking up at you, and for a second, you wish that you had never faced him. There are tears in his eyes, threatening to spill onto his blotchy cheeks. He looks absolutely disheveled and your heart breaks at the sight. This wasn’t the first time that you had discussed this with him. 

Harry wasn’t the arrogant guy that he pretended to be at school. He was insecure and he doubted himself in everything that he did. The only thing that made him feel like he was enough for anybody was you, and he thought that you were trying to leave him for someone else.

“Harry, baby.” You say, walking over to him and trying to grab his hands. “Listen to me please.”

He pulls away and spits, “Don’t call me baby.” You know he doesn’t mean it, he just pushes everyone away when he gets like this. He’d rather be alone than think he’s burdening anybody. 

You take a deep breath in, trying to force the tears in your eyes to stay there and not spill onto your face. This was about him, not you. You had no right to shift the focus onto yourself by letting the tears fall. Not that he would blame you, he would drop everything to make you feel better, which is why you couldn’t cry right now. It was your turn to make him feel better. 

“Harry, listen.” You say, grabbing his hand. “You’re everything. I could never ask for anyone better.” There’s nothing but truth in your voice, and you hope that he can hear it.

“Then why do you want him?” He asks, no longer sounding hateful, just hurt. He pulls his hand out of your grasp and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s too far into his insecurities for you to fix this with a sentence or two.

“I don’t. Harry, I don’t. I want you. And that’s what I was trying to tell him when you walked over.” You take his hand in yours again, holding tighter than last time, not wanting him to pull away again. To your relief, he doesn’t. He just let’s you guide him to the bed. You sit down at the end and pull him to sit beside you. 

Once he’s settled, you raise a hand to his hair and push it out of his eyes, knowing that he hates when his hair falls into his line of vision. “Yes, he asked me out. Yes, he told me that I should choose him.” he stiffens and you can feel the anger coming back to his body, so you quickly continue, “But I didn’t. I didn’t choose him, because he isn’t you,” you slide into his lap, placing one knee on the bed on each side of him, straddling him. You cup his face in your hands and continue, “and you are the only,” you lean in and give him a quick peck, “one,” you lean in again, “that,” another, “I’ll” your lips linger slightly longer this time, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer, “ever,” you’re back to quick pecks, “want.”

You move your hands from his face, letting them slide down over his neck and come to a rest on his shoulders.

You lean your head down, letting your lips find purchase on the taut skin of his jaw, leaving wet kisses down to the dip of his collar bones. Between every kiss, you murmur a praise to him.

“You’re so handsome, baby.”

“You deserve the world.”

“You’re so good to me.”

“Love you so much.”

“Look so good in that uniform.”

“Such a good baseball player, wanna reward you.”

At the last one, he pulls back slightly, scanning your face, ensuring that you’re not only doing this because you were arguing. “You sure, baby? Don’t have to do anything just because you think I’m mad.” He runs a hand down your back, letting you know that it’s fine if you don’t want to. The action sends shivers throughout your body.

“Wanna show you how proud of you I am, how much I love you. Would you like that baby?” You ask, waiting for him to approve, not wanting to push him if he really doesn’t want you to do anything.

After a moment of consideration, he nods his head, “Please, love.”

Your lips find their way back to his, immediately locking into a kiss. It’s not like the ones that you usually share. It’s not rushed. There’s no teeth knocking against one another’s, there’s no fight for dominance. It’s smooth and soft, tongues gliding together and seamlessly allowing your mouths to mold.

After a moment, you move slightly, allowing your lips to fall in quick succession all around his face, kissing every feature that you adore beyond comparison. Every detail that he seems to hate about himself. 

You let your lips land on the dimples that make your heart flutter, the crinkles by his eyes that make your tummy erupt in butterflies, the freckles that make you want to run your finger over them for hours on end. You kiss every inch of his face, because his face is the most perfect one that you had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Once you’re satisfied that his face has been moved on enough, you move down to his neck, nipping and sucking marks into his skin. He groans when you place an open mouthed kiss on a particularly sensitive spot and you smirk into his skin. 

Usually, you would pay special attention to that spot, but that was never really for him. Sure, it felt good to him, but you just really loved the groans that would fall from his lips. So, you would drag out the time you spent adoring that single spot.

Today, however, was all about his pleasure. And you know that he hates the teasing more than anything. He doesn’t need the foreplay, the kissing and sucking all over his body. All that he needs is to see you on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes.

So, as you move down his neck, you begin to unbutton his baseball jersey. Once the final button is undone, you push it off his shoulders and look at the man in front of you. How you got lucky enough to be with him, you’ll never know. 

You begin to kiss down his chest, paying slight attention to the places that you know make him tick. You know that he doesn’t need it, but you also know that they make him feel good, and that’s all that you want to do, make him feel good.

You continue making your way across his chest, kissing and licking. When you get to his nipples, you let your tongue run over them for a moment. You let your teeth gently graze over the peak, and his body jolts into you.

“Baby, please.” He whimpers. You look up at him, giving him a look of mock innocence as you make your way to his other nipple. You repeat your actions before moving down his torso.

You stop once again at his butterfly tattoo, letting your tongue run along the lines of it. He lets out a choppy breath, and you know he’s putty in your hands. You’ve got him right where you want him.

You make your way lower, yet again stopping at his fern tattoos. As you run your tongue across them, pausing slightly every now and then to nip at his hips, his hands rake through your hair, gripping on to the strands like they’re his tethers to reality.

“Not gonna tease you today baby, is that okay?” You murmur against his hip, knowing that you not having your mouth exactly where he wants you to be is killing him. 

“Yeah, that’s fine baby just please, need your mouth so bad.” He begs, and you have no choice but to give him what he wants. You pop the button on his baseball pants, pulling both them and his boxers down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, red and leaking. It’s not like you’ve never seen him before, he’s just so pretty in every aspect, and it seems to catch you off guard every time.

“You sound so pretty when you beg for me, H.” You all but whimper, letting your mouth move further down as he kicks his pants completely off.

You settle comfortably on your knees in front of him. You let your hands come up to the top of his thigh, scratching your nails down the skin.

He hisses, and you take his moment of distraction to lick the pearl of precum that has settled at the tip of him.

Just this simple action has him bucking his hips and letting out a broken whimper. You can’t help but smile, knowing that you’re the reason that he’s reacting like that.

When you peer up at him and see him looking at you with pure adoration, you take him in your mouth, sucking at the tip before bobbing further down. The hand in your hair clenches, like he’s trying not to push your head down as far as you can go. Like he’s trying not to make you choke on him.

You pull off of him and revel in the whimper that escapes his mouth. “Do you want to fuck my face baby?”

He chokes out a groan, nodding his head slightly. You reach for his other hand, which had been clenched tightly in a fist by his side, and place it in your hair alongside the other one. He shoots you a wary glance that quickly dissipates as you say, “Then do it. Please, H.”

He lets out a light chuckle. “Who’s begging now?” 

He doesn’t give you time to answer. He pushes back into your mouth, and you can’t help but moan. Him having you like this is one of your favorite sexual activities with him.He starts slow, easy. It’s always like this. He uses shallow thrusts to give you time to adjust to the experience.

Little by little, though, he pushes deeper. He can’t help it, really. You’re just so wet and warm. You feel like heaven to him. 

You hollow your cheeks, slowly moving your tongue along the underside of him, feeling the veins running across the muscle. 

“That’s it, baby, feel so good for me.” He groans, pushing your head down further, causing you to slightly choke, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

He pulls your head back, just as he does every single time, and asks, “Are you okay, lovie?”

Your heart swells, but you’re too impatient to dwell on it, you want him back down your throat. “I’m perfect. Now please, please let me make you feel good.” You stick your tongue back out and he places the tip of his dick on your muscle.

The only warning he gives you is a slight nod before he pushes back down your throat, immediately setting a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he pulls your head towards his hips by your hair.

You can feel the ache beginning to settle in your jaw and the burn in the back of your throat. You know that you won’t be able to comfortably talk for the next few days, but it was always worth it.

“Look at you baby, taking me so well.” He groans, praising you. 

The spit was pooling in your mouth, as it always does, and you know that sooner rather than later, you’ll be making an absolute mess of yourself.

He pushes all the way to the back of your throat, and you feel yourself gag, but you know that he won’t let up before he feels like it, so you push your gag reflex down and do your best to breathe through your nose.

“Yeah, baby. That’s it. Taking all of me like a good girl.” He brings his hand down to your throat, squeezing at it gently, just adding a little bit of pressure.

You moan around him, and that’s when the spit begins to fall, covering your chin. He smiles down at you, mumbling something about you being his messy little baby and continues to thrust into your mouth. 

The only thing that you can taste is him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You can feel every vein, every ridge of his cock against your tongue. You can also feel the way that he’s twitching in your mouth, how every thrust is bringing him closer and closer to his end. 

You hollow your cheeks around him and suck a little harder. You hear him groan from above you and his hips stutter.

He’s a lot closer than you thought he was.

You double your efforts, moving your head along with him, holding his cock all the way in your throat for longer than you had been, sucking a little harder on the tip when he pulls back. 

He’s being unapologetically loud, moaning and groaning about how good you are for him, and you can’t help but be proud. You made him that way.

Seconds later, you can feel the first string of his release. He goes to apologize and pull out of your mouth, but you slightly shake your head and grab his thighs. You know how hot he thinks it is when you swallow.

You take everything he has to offer before swallowing every last drop. When you stand back up, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him that there’s nothing left.

He groans and pulls you closer, catching your lips in a heated kiss. This time, it’s complete teeth and tongue. 

“Want me to make you feel as good as you made me feel, love?” He asks.You just shake your head. He looks offended, so you quickly elaborate. “I congratulated you for winning baby, that was a one way thing. Don’t need you to do anything for me, I’m okay.”

“You sure?” You smile at how persistent he is. He’s just as eager to please as you are.

“I’m sure.” He nods, dragging you onto the beg to cuddle with him.

“I’ll just pay you back another time, then.” He promises. You roll your eyes. 

“It’s not something to pay back, H.”

“Fine then, I’ll give you head randomly just because I want to. Or maybe next time you do good on a test. Anytime really.” He chuckles.

“Alright, alright. Can we go to bed? I’m tired.” You whine. He just looks over at you and smiles, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Night, baby.”

“Night night.”

*

Okay so I tried hehe. Thank you for reading!! Come talk to me if you wanna :)))

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[frightfurtabby]

Himikiyo Week 2021 Day 2! Bookstore Ambience

// Likewise with yesterdays entry, amino crossposting to be added later. i feel this one’s pretty damn cute

later edit- all links will be collected later in an individual post that will act as a guide/directory.

Word count: 1837

Link

AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/34138636

Amino- https://aminoapps.com/c/danganronpa/page/blog/himikiyo-week-day-2-bookstore-ambience/d3DX_eE8Sbum1JjvngPBwrwNV6mNR1eD7WR

A first date, depending on who you asked, was either more nerve wracking or less so than you expect. Kiyo wasn’t sure which they’d agree with but nonetheless they were fretting. Pacing back and forth in their office at the university. A cute teacher from another department had ended up inviting them out on a date, like a date date. They’d been on the job for a few years now but hardly socialized much outside the other anthropology staff who were understanding of at least some of their eccentricities.

Then just before the start of the previous semester the college hired a new batch of professors including one taking a spot over in the English department in a room in just the opposite hall. So they would see her often in the mornings downstairs in line at Coffee place, usually she was to the back of the line and they’d cross paths when Kiyo was going up with their usual order. The first sighting was like this, and entirely by chance as the anthropologist had to turn to answer a colleague briefly and eye contact was made with the cute redhead in line just over the other’s shoulder, Himiko Yumeno.  

They soon hit it off, spending time talking to each other in between class periods in one room, the other, or in the previously mentioned cafe. About work, future plans, what they did in their spare time. Kiyo was always busy doing work, research generally and most of their interests revolved around it and there were days in a row just immersing themself in study. It was like that for as long as they could remember, though what in particular they were fascinated by changed over time.

Legends of monsters, legends of heroes, artifacts left behind, Asia, North America, Africa, they’d deep dive into something and come out the other end being aware of enough to teach their students in extreme detail. Little did they know at the time but in a moment of serendipity just before they met Himiko they felt a pull toward researching the history of magic. And then it turned out that she was interested in that as well.

There were very few days they didn’t find a chance to talk. They had a shared routine every day, and now was a step up.

Kiyo adjusted their collar and tie before straightening out the skirt a bit more and wondered if it was all a little too formal and they were overthinking this. They did tend to do that kind of thing after all. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much of an issue, Himiko was definitely understanding of that kind of thing, they knew that much already. There were also the times they’d complained of that trait and she called it “adorable.”

It was to a bookstore with a cafe in it, so they didn’t need to be terribly formal. Kiyo remembered that it was taking place at around 8 tonight and looked over at the clock and realized that it was much sooner than they thought. She would be showing up any moment. Time went somewhere while they were lost in thought so they quickly put on their shoes, grabbed an umbrella just in case and headed out to the bus stop that was only a few blocks away.

The couple met while Himiko was sitting on the bench still, tapping away at her phone to text Kiyo to make sure everything was alright.

She looked up after hearing footsteps and sighed in relief. “You never seemed much like the type to show up late.”

“My apologies.”

“You also never seemed like the type to straight up ditch either, so…” she blushed and looked over down sheepishly. “I was getting a little worried something happened and you couldn’t pick me up as soon.”

“I got a bit distracted. I-” their explanation started as they took a break with her to sit and rest, arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“Was trying to make yourself extra cute for me?” the redhead teased, putting an arm around them right back and leaning in cutely..

“I… yes, I won’t deny that.” It was a cloudy evening and the autumn breeze blew downed leaves past where they had sat and began to cuddle on the bench. “You know how it is sometimes.”

“Yeah, I remember the time you genuinely didn’t grasp that the poetry I had been showing you for your input was, in fact, about you.”

Kiyo chuckled. “Oh god yeah, that took me a few to even have an inkling of it going on. I just might be the most useless lesbian ever.”

“Mmm, you’re useful for warmth sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Hehe, y-you know what I mean. Like right now, it’s a bit chilly but you being here makes it not so bad.” The first date was finally here, after they had planned it to be a day they were both free. So the woman was going to savor every moment of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The couple approached the doors of the date location holding hands, under the umbrella. Skin made cold by the walk over in spite of hands sharing warmth. Small flecks of rain along the top of the umbrella dripped down. Inside, Kiyo instantly felt the warmth of the building. It wasn’t a long trek at all, if it was they would have done this by car. Everything around here was luckily close to the campus, including home.

The umbrella was put back in its holder, so as not to drip all over the place. It would be rude to do so.

Kiyo turns and gives Himiko a peck on the cheeks. “Food and coffee first, darling?”

The shorter woman nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

It was just to the back left corner from the entrance. Rows and rows of enticing books had to be passed by before you could reach it, but who would come and not buy anything? Romance, sci-fi and fantasy, Manga and light novels too were all present.

After ordering, they got one booth to share, and sat down at the same side. Kiyo’s umbrella, bag, and jacket sat on the ground on the very inside corner. Everything they had ordered would be coming up, and luckily there wasn’t that much of a line on evening’s like this. The barista was even a student from university and had recognized them. It was awkward at first but Kiyo joked that it would be interesting to see which class would become fully aware they were dating first.”Let’s turn it into an experiment. Who has more Gossips attending their lectures?”

And they were glad that put her more at ease. It felt nice gently rubbing Himiko’s shoulder with their hand as she leaned in and placed a kiss on their cheek.

“Well, I sure hope it’s not mine. That’d be a pain.” she said to play into the gag a bit more. “Besides, it’d be fitting for your class.”

Kiyo feigned offense, mock gasping “Hey now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just you observant types over in anthropology, always wanting to know everything you can about how people work. I can see that tendency being correlated.”

They had told her previously they thought about doing more research for a paper about something like that after listening to some of their colleagues, ironic though it may be, gossipping about student rumors.

“Point taken.” Kiyo returned her smooch with their own, directly on her forehead.

The coffee and tea arrived first. So the talk continued with the added benefit of drinks. Himiko changed the subject to books on her to-read list. “You know there’s this new book I’ve been thinking of assigning in a future quarter, I’d have to read it first.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s about this girl that finds out that she has magical powers and gets some training, eventually she encounters a strange, beautiful spirit and they fall in love. I always feel like courses need a little more gay love. Oh, and the author is too, so the representation is genuine.”

KIyo nodded and listened. “That’s very good. Perhaps we’ll get a couple copies? I’ll pay. I’ll also be getting a few things that have been on my list for a while.”

They held hands, sat so close. Hans resting between both of their legs. It was such a good time to fit in cuddling any time there was a little lull in the action of the date. Some time to lazily place kisses.

Right on cue the meal arrived. Breakfast for dinner was a classic, from the bacon egg and cheese on croissant to the pie slices as a dessert. Reluctantly, they separated to more easily eat and drink.

“This is as good as it usually is, mmm, actually, it’s even better.” Himiko said, taking their hand again.

“I agree. I don’t know if coming alone will cut it for me any more.” Kiyo leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Shall we move on to the next leg, or savor this moment some more?”

The food was finished or wrapped up for later.

After a few more minutes cuddling in the booth, the couple looked through the aisles closer to the cafe portion first and Kiyo’s stack started, growing through each section until they had to split the load and have Himiko carry some.

“Sheesh, I thought you were only getting a few.” she complained, intending it to be lighthearted.

“My list is quite long.” Kiyo replied with a chuckle.

“Guess this is why you needed the bag then. If this was only a few I have to imagine it’s as long as you are.”

“Oh my~” the tall one replied, complete with suggestive eyebrow wiggling.

“Kiyo! Not like that, I meant your height. Did Iruma from the Engineering department teach you that one?”

As that line of discussion thankfully ceased the couple came to the one Himiko was looking for, it was up front on the display close to the cashier. She picked up one copy and put it on her pile and handed the second over to Kiyo.

“We could have, like, a little book club date. Just the two of us.” If only it weren’t so difficult to nuzzle close due to all these books, she thought.

“I think I’d enjoy that. Your company is always a pleasure darling.” They briefly leaned up close, cutely brushing against her before leading the way to check out.

Himiko blushed. “Yeah this was nice, we should do it more often.”

With a couple of coupons Kiyo kept in their pocket the price was cut down, but still cracked 12,000 yen. They stuffed the back full and carried it over their shoulder. Umbrella similarly along their back for if it would be needed again.

Arms wrapped around each other, the couple walked out and noticed the rain had stopped for now, and it would be dry on the bus trips back home.

[crimson-mage-02]

Spy x Family Mission 2: Honeymoon (Smut/Fluff)

Summary:  Loid wanted to go on a family outing with his daughter and wife until he was asked to go on a mission and had Yor to come along on their new mission to save newly wedded brides on their honeymoon.

A/N: This is my Christmas gift for @kadhis-stuff!! This is for you! I also posted this in Ao3! I had so much fun writing this fanfic of Loid and Yor! I really, really, really, hope you’ll like this! Please forgive me if you spotted any errors. Everyone and @kadhis-stuff, enjoy reading, comment and give feedback! 

Merry Christmas and and stay safe! 

Anya was walking along the path with her adoptive father, Loid was following her on the way home and listened to her talking excitedly about how she’ll spend her time with her uncle Yuri and Franky. He wished they wouldn’t teach her anything that was unnecessary unlike the last time they had taught her how to handle a knife and a gun.

But luckily it was a plastic knife. Much to his relief, he chuckled remembering Yor was teaching her hand to hand combat before attending the Eden academy. He didn’t really say anything much, but right now, he finds it cute. “Papa!”

“Ah, yes, Anya?” Loid looked down at her with a smile.

“Is Mama coming home to cook dinner with us?” Anya asked him as she tugged in his pants.

“Mama will be coming home a bit late and we’ll be cooking dinner together. How does that sound?” Loid asked her.

“Mmm, yeah!” Anya smiled brightly as they walked in hand in hand together on their way home. When they got home, they immediately got started with preparation of making dinner while Yor comes home from work.

It has been months since he and Yor have become an official married couple. He loved spending everyday with her and their daughter Anya. He definitely will not abandon them as he loves them so much. He vowed to protect the two of them. “Anya, get changed and wash your hands.”

“Okie!” Anya saluted with Bond licking her face. She ran into her room to get changed while Loid had changed as well and gave some dog food for Bond in the corner near the new table they had bought. Franky and Anya both had promised they won’t be destroying another table ever again.

He had started some buttered chicken with some sauce while hearing Anya was running towards him and hugged his legs. “Oh, Anya. You ready? Here, you start by stirring the soup.” He gave her a spoon to use to stir while he cuts the meat and then put them into the soup.

At 5pm, when the sun had set and it was dark, Yor came home tired with a worn out look on her face. “Oh no! Mama!” Anya exclaimed worriedly.

“I’m home.” Yor said tiredly as she walked towards the couch and lay down for a bit. Loid turned off the stove and had asked Anya to give them privacy which she complied as she went to study in her room.

He turned to his wife and let her lay on his shoulder. “Tough day at work?”

“Mmm hmm, I have been working so hard. Yet there is so much needed to be done. Oh, how I want a vacation, Loid. It would be very helpful just to relax every once in a while.” Yor said hugging him around his waist.

Loid smiled and then rubbed her back. “I do hope that some dinner would help you relax tonight then maybe I can plan for a trip. Just us three.”

Yor’s eyes brightened and sparkled. “I really do love your cooking. And a think a trip does sound wonderful.”

“Great. I will tell Handler that I will be unavailable for the entire week or month.” Loid smiled at her and stood up with her.

“Oh? Handler is the one who tells you about your missions as a spy?” Yor asked as she helped setting up the table.

“Yes, she’s the one. I think she’ll understand.” Loid chuckled putting the pot in the center of the table. “Plus, she now saw how things had gotten better with us, I think she’ll understand I could have a few days to spend more time with you.”

“I am sure she’ll understand. And I’ll get Anya since dinner is ready.” Yor smiled as she walked towards daughter’s room. “Anya, dinnertime.”

The three of them had dinner together with Bond eating some of the leftovers. They all had discussed what they all had done for the day including Anya showing the art projects she had made in classes.

After dinner, Loid was reading some paper in thinking where he could take Yor and Anya to for their trip. He hummed in deep thought while Yor washed the dishes and Anya was taking a bath. “Loid? Are you searching for a place where we could have a trip?”

“Yes, I am. We went to the aquarium last time. I thought we could go to the beach while renting a beach house to stay in. How does that sound?” Loid asked her.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Yor agreed while clasping her hands together. “I cannot wait!”

The next day…. Loid walked to the agency to request for a few days off with his family. But it wasn’t all he ever had hoped for until Franky had informed he has a new mission on the same day of his vacation with his family. “What? Can’t you find another agent to do this? I really need to spend more time with my family as possible.”

“Sorry, Loid.” Franky apologised to him. “But—But it is a really interesting mission. Just wait until she explains to you.”

Loid sighed and muttered. “This better be good.” They both walked into the office and found Handler was putting some champagne in a basket with red ribbons and some love hearts inside it. Loid gulped softly and cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Oh, good Twilight, you have arrived.” Handler smirked.

Loid’s eyes twitched and gritted his teeth but took a deep breath in and out before speaking up. “Handler, what is it that you want to discuss?”

“Well, I was informed by Franky that you wanted some alone time with your wife and child. Well, I have this mission that involves with kidnapped brides in this honeymoon spot for newly wedded couples.” Handler started explaining the mission for him.

“And…?”

“And you had told your lovely wife that you were a spy and that was not a part of the plan, Twilight. So, I will let this slide and give this chance for you to spend your time with her there to rescue these poor brides.” Handler continued with a grin.

Loid blinked and shook his head. “Wait…wait… are you saying you are granting me permission to bring my wife on a mission with her? Are you testing her abilities as a hitman?”

“Well, yes and no. I can truly see how strong and capable she is, but I need to know that she won’t breathe a word that you are real life spy. Of course, I am granting permission for you to spend time with your wife.” Handler replied as she handed him the basket. “Oh, and I added a few things in the basket just for you as a reward. But before I do let you look into the basket, I am going to let Frankly get you up to speed with the rest of the information of the mission.”

The two boys walked of the office and Franky took out some files for the mission. Loid was really overwhelmed seeing stacked papers on the table, some were categorised and in order. He even looked at the recent kidnappings and the grooms complaints.

“Some papers are growing and growing. There’s a lot of women who are captured. Grooms are getting worried.” Franky said while shaking his head seeing all of the papers.

“Hmm, we’d need to do this quickly. But who will look after Anya?” Loid asked him as he looked through the files.

“I could look after her. I mean, this mission is gonna be for week. You will have time to spend your lovely moments with Yor.” Franky teased him and then sweats nervously seeing his eyes staring at him deadly into his soul. “…Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I am just…. Been so protective of Yor. She has been a center of attention when I had introduced her to everyone here.” Loid said as he remembered every men were trying to get her attention and really wanted to hold her soft hands.

“Maybe I should ban everyone from having contact with her.” Loid continued while clenching his fists with a vein popping.

“What? No! I mean, I am sure she was trying to get settled in. And besides, she had helped us a lot during our other missions.” Franky pointed out.

“True. Alright, I suppose I can let you take care of Anya. But on one condition. Yuri can help out.” Loid said to him.

“What?! Why?!” Franky exclaimed in shock.

“Because it has been months, he had seen her. It would be nice if you two got along well and try to work together to look after Anya while we’re gone.” Loid replied as he got the files in his bags and reluctantly grabbed the basket that Handler gave him. “Alright, I am off and come to eat dinner at 6pm.”

“Good luck, Loid. You may need it.” Franky called out to him as he prepared himself to get to his house and pack up his things for his stay in their apartment. He wished it was just him and Anya, rather than Yuri, him and Anya. He scares him.

(~)

On the way home, Loid arrived early to tell Yor that their trip will be their new honeymoon. And he will tell her about their new mission together. He waited for her at home while packing with Bond watching over him.

“Loid? Are you already home?” Yor called out to him.

“Yes, I am in our room.” Loid replied, putting some clothes on their bed. Yor came in and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Handler was kind enough to give us a week to let us rest up.”

“Oh that is wonderful. I cannot wait to pack everything! Who will tell Anya that we’re going on a trip?” Yor chimed excitedly and then felt his hands grabbing hers.

“Actually, Handler said it was also a trip and a mission.” Loid explained clearly to her as she frowned.

“Mission? What happened?” Yor asked in alarmed, looking into his eyes. Loid offered her to sit on the bed and sat next to her.

“Okay Handler has assigned us to a mission where we have to act like we are on a honeymoon. And our main focus is freeing all of the brides who were captured and reunite them with their grooms.” Loid explained the mission to his wife.

“I see. Then if it is a really urgent mission, then I must pack right away.” Yor understood how important it was and packed all of her clothes including her hitman attire and her weapons. “So, when do we leave?”

“Right after we start packing. I hope you don’t mind, I invited Franky to look after Anya as well.” Loid said to her.

“Oh, sure it’s great to have him accompanying Anya and Yuri.” Yor smiled, getting her clothes folded and placed them on their bed with Loid giving her luggage and heard the bell ringing. “Must be Yuri.”

“I’ll get it.” Loid smiled at her as he walked over to the door and opened it seeing Yuri. “Hello, thank you for coming in.”

“Anything to look after my darling sweet little niece. So, she is still at school?” Yuri asked with Bond licking his shoes.

“Yes, she is on her way with her friend and classmate. Not to worry, she will be here on time for dinner while your sister and I pack.” Loid replied with a smile.

“You two are going on a trip instead of me looking after Bond and your apartment?” Yuri asked in confusion as he rubbed his neck while Loid sighed deeply.

“Well, I am going on a long-awaited deserved honeymoon with your sister.” Loid smiled at him with Yuri’s eyes widened in fear and shock. He knew this day would come! And he never wanted to let Yor be fully attached to this man ever! But he must accept the fact, she loves him very much.

“W-well, I do h-hope you two enjoy it. You really do deserve it.” Yuri smiled while clenching his fist and a vein was popping out while Loid slyly smirked at him. Seeing him crack just for a little bit was so satisfying for him to see.

The door opened with Anya came running inside and hugged her papa on the legs. “Papa, I’m home!”

“Welcome home, Anya!” Loid happily greeted and carried her in his arms. “Look who’s here. It’s your Uncle Yuri.”

“Uncle Yuri!” Anya reached for him with Loid letting him hold her. He let them have a few minutes with each other and went back into his room seeing Yor was putting something in her luggage rapidly as if she doesn’t want him to see.

“Yor? Something the matter?” Loid raised an eyebrow.

“No. No! I am all packed now. Is that my brother?” Yor asked quickly as she left the room to greet her brother. Loid shrugged and then decided to put the luggage’s out in the living room and then saw Franky had brought in a lot of cartoons for them to watch.

“Look, Franky was kind enough to bring in a lot of cartoons for Anya.” Yor smiled at Loid who smiled cheerfully and then looked over at Franky who gave him another file. Loid watched Yuri and Franky were eyeing each other with a glare on their faces.

This is going to be a long week. But all that’s worth, he gets to have some alone time with his lovely and beautiful wife. He also remembered the basket and held it in his hands and placed it on the table. Also putting the secret envelope Handler had given him.

“Anya, I am very sorry that we cannot take you to our trip. But Papa and I are going on a special trip. I want you to be good to your uncles.” Yor said to her daughter with a smile and then gave a stern expression to her brother as he understood that he’ll do whatever he needs to do to take good care of

“Oh, that’s okay, I do understand!” Anya smiled brightly at her parents.

“Also, I left the numbers on the fridge. Be sure to call us if something has happened.” Loid smiled at her as she hugged the both of them. “So behave and listen to your uncles. We will be back soon.”

“Okay! Have fun Papa, Mama!” Anya chimed while Bond barked.

They all had said their goodbyes to Anya, Franky, and Yuri. Both of them went inside the car that will lead to their ‘honeymoon’. It seemed like a quiet place to have a honeymoon. It was nice. Clean air and beautiful sights to see and go to. The beach house looked so beautiful, it has great architecture, wonderful spacious rooms and it is a breathtaking luxury beach house.

“Hmm, I love it Loid, how did you afford this? It must’ve cost a lot.” Yor wondered as she took off her sun hat and put her bags on the floor next to the table.

“Well, Handler handled everything, the money, the activities, the food and everything.” Loid replied as he looked at the papers. “So, tonight, there is a restaurant that is opening on the beach. We should get ready. You have your uh, weapons ready?”

“Of course, but if you don’t mind, I would like to get changed first.” Yor said as she got her dress out.

“Sure, I’ll just wait in the main room.” Loid nodded with a smile. He thought it would be a good chance to go over the mission and look for certain clues where they might be. He had looked through some of the photos but never got the chance to read the rest of the information that Franky had given him.

He also wondered if Yor wanted to go on a real honeymoon. He would love it if he would take her to dancing and take her on a walk down to the beach, then play in the waters. Maybe even kissing her with the sun setting. Sounds like a perfect honeymoon.

“…..Loid? What are you smiling about?” Yor asked him while she fidget with her sunflower dress with her hair down past her waist. Loid blushed seeing her in a beautiful dress and has fallen in love with her all over again.

“Uh… j-just how we are doing this missions together that’s all. Ahem, and that we are on our honeymoon trip.” Loid smiled nervously with a small blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, well, then I am very excited. I also got my weapons ready.” Yor chimed with Loid standing up, smiling at her.

“Alright, we should get going.” Loid smiled back.

They both walked along the footpath, holding hands together and act like they are a real married couple. Yor blushed a little, remembering the moment he had confessed his feelings of love. She was so happy she got to experience in going on a honeymoon.

They had reached to their destination and sat at their table. Loid pulled the chair for Yor shyly which she happily accepted and sat on the chair with him sitting opposite of her. They both had looked into the menu together and had ordered what they would like to eat.

“Hmm, this place does look romantic, don’t you think, Loid?” Yor asked.

“Of course. When we get home, we can go on another date.” Loid smiled lovingly as he held her hand across the table while she blushed bright pink and looked into his eyes until something caught her eye.

“Loid, two men are outside the restaurant. Possibly waiting for a newly wedded couple to come out.” Yor said softly with Loid nodding with a stern expression.

“Appearance?”

“Dressed in black, both in coats with golden and silver watches on their waist.” Yor noted while she play with his hand which Loid blushed yet, he played along until their food has arrived.

“Alright, we have to be on our guard. For now, let’s just be our normal selves.” Loid winked at her while she giggled and began to eat her meal which was absolutely delicious! Yor also fed some of her steak to Loid which he shyly accepted.

“So, do-do you think we could do this some other time? I mean, someplace else?” Loid asked while he rubbed the back of his neck watching her eating her dessert.

“Hmm, I would love to. Oh, I wonder how Franky and Yuri doing.” Yor wondered while Loid whimpered as he was supposed to call them, but they call them now. “You’ve forgotten to call when we got here, didn’t you?” Yor asked, seeing his reaction.

“Yes, I did…Sorry, sweetie.” Loid apologised seeing her arms were crossed and she narrowed her eyes at him then she chuckled softly.

“It is alright, Loid. It’s our first time. So there will be no mistakes next time.” Yor smiled at him while she drank her water. Loid looked on the reflection on the glass, seeing a wedded couple were walking out of the restaurant and heard car wheels screeching from outside.

Loid and Yor both looked outside seeing the bride was being taken away while the groom had called in for the police. The spy and the hitman had paid for their food and disappeared from the restaurant and had ran back to their beach house to get ready.

They were both on a roof top and he had brought in his binoculars to see what they were doing. It looked like there has been multiple missing women inside. He looked to the side seeing Yor taking off her coat seeing her revealing outfit. He blushed deeply seeing her in a halter-style black dress, showing her shoulders. As well as her cleavage. She also wore a rose choker and rose pattern on the inside of her skirt. He also noticed she wore a pair of black thigh-high boots with black fingerless gloves.

And she had changed her headband to a golden coloured with a rose and two spikes coming out each side. “Uh, ahem. Yor?”

“Hmm yes?”

“Is, uh well, you do certainly l-look lovely…. Um, doesn’t make you feel cold?” Loid asked her, trying not so hard looking at her cleavage.

“No. Not at all. I have been trained not to be bothered by the cold.” Yor replied with a smile as she twirled her weapons in her hands. “Shall we?”

Loid nodded as they both jumped off the rooftop down to the warehouse and had heard the men were trying to select a woman which made Yor more furious to hear such crude words that has been side. The spy held her hand tightly to calm her down as he grabbed his guns from his holster.

They successfully went inside the warehouse with Yor swiftly taking down two guards with Loid punched one in the face. Yor gave him another gun to use and she looked over at the women who were whimpering in fear. She desperately wanted to save them badly. She walked around with her husband following her.

If he ever had lost her to these men, he would hunt these men down if they hurt Yor in front of him. His eyes glanced over at the table and he got Yor’s attention as she looked over at the board with her eyes scanning all over the papers.

All of the women who are targeted by these men. It boils her blood inside and she wanted nothing more but to take them down. Loid heard footsteps and then held onto Yor and hid behind a pillar, holding her closely to him.

“Looks like these are all of the women.” Said one of the men.

“Heh, too bad we didn’t get that new bride that came in today at the restaurant. She looked like a real snack boys.” With that comment, it made Loid even more furious. They were thinking of capturing Yor to be one of their……toys to be played with. He cannot allow those men do such a thing to those women or to Yor.

“Loid…. We must get them out of here.” Yor whispered to him.

“Yes, and fast.” Loid nodded and looked at how many men were there in the warehouse. “Okay, here’s what we are going to do. I’ll distract them and then once I got their attention, you take the women out of here. If one man touches one of them…”

“I’ll fight them off.” Yor finished as she went to the other side of the warehouse to try and get to the women. She made sure they all stayed quiet, not to get her caught. She heard some rattling noises and turned to see Loid was the one who was doing it to distract them while he fought off against the men.

“Get him!” shouted one of the men who ran after him outside of the warehouse. But they weren’t prepared on what’s going happen next. Loid side kicked one of them in the face while shot one on the leg with his gun.

Yor quickly got the ropes of the women’s wrists, cutting them free from the restraints and guided them outside until one man grabbed onto him until she twisted his arm and then kicked him in the stomach, sending him into the air with one coming at her with her punching him and swung her golden metal pick and plunged it onto the palm of his hand, making him scream in agony.

“Go!” Yor cried out to the women who were rushing outside while she fought against them. She kicked them hard as she can, sending them back into the boxes unconscious.

Outside of the warehouse, Loid was handling very well fighting against them and saw one man was thrown from the window, he saw Yor was walking towards him while she twirled her weapons in her hands. He looked behind her saw one man was about to attack her from behind. He got out his gun and grazed his arm a bit, screaming in pain. Saving her just in time.

Then they heard the police was coming at their position while they ran into hiding away from the police and watched the men being arrested. Loid was watching how the grooms where reunited with their wives and saw the look on Yor’s face. She was relieved to see them being reunited.

He was glad that the mission was a success. Both of them walked along the beach while Loid watched her playing in the water and laughed when she felt it was so cold. He never knew he would have this type of feeling towards her and…. He was glad that it was her that got him this far to becoming the world’s best spy of all time.

All thanks to her encouragement as well as Anya. He loves both his wife and daughter with all of his heart. “Loid! Look a seashell! And there is a smaller one. I am sure Anya would love this!” Yor beamed with excitement.

“Yes, I am sure she will love it.” Loid smiled lovingly as he caressed her cheek softly with the stars sparkling in the reflection of her eyes. He gently touched a strand of her hair and then kissed it while she blushed deeply red. She was glad that it was night time, so he won’t be able to see it.

Loid’s eyes stared into her red eyes, he was looking at the most beautiful assassin he has ever seen. He leaned in and kissed her passionately as they fought for dominance with Yor reciprocating the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his torso and felt his heartbeat.

They kissed each other underneath the stars as they played with each other’s tongue and Loid felt every bit of her soft curves with her chest pressed against his. He held the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

“L-Loid?”

“Mmm?” Loid moaned into the kiss as they broke away to get some air. He saw her hair was now getting messy.

“W-We should do this at our beach house.” Yor said shyly, looking down at their feet.

“Of course. W-We should.” Loid nodded in agreement, holding her hand. leading her back to their house on the beach. Once they reached towards their beach house, he looked back at Yor who was taking off her boots and took off her shawl and put it on a hangar.

She placed her weapons on the table and looked at Loid who was taking off his jacket and his suit. She bit her lips, thinking back of their kiss on the beach. Slowly, she walked towards him as he noticed she was getting closer to him.

He reached out to her cheek and then they both clashed their lips together and he stumbled against the table with the fake vase falling down. He caressed her cheeks with her undoing the buttons of his suit and shirt, with him throwing it away on the floor while staring into her eyes.

They both breathed in and out heavily and continued making out as they both made their way to their bed room. He gently laid her back on the bed and took her appearance as an assassin and gently took off her headwear. Dropping it on the floor while he rubbed his knee in between her legs, getting the most cute and adorable reaction from her, moaning softly.

Hearing such angelic noise coming out from her mouth has really blessed his ears. He trailed his kisses on her neck while she moaned. She felt every bit of his muscles and kissed his ear softly while placing more kisses on his neck and felt his hands were exploring her curves and her breasts. He massaged them gently.

She arched her body and opened her eyes seeing his blue eyes staring down at her. She covered her face and whimpered. “Yor…are you afraid of me? If you are, then we could stop.” Loid said gently.

“No…I mean…. I am not afraid. Because it’s you. I know you won’t hurt me.” Yor admitted with a single tear rolled down her cheek. She smiled and caressed his cheek, kissing him on the lips, then whispered. “You can keep going.”

Loid nodded slowly while he helped her get out of her attire while kissing her shoulder softly. He laid her back on the pillow as he took her dress off, seeing her naked body while she hugged her chest, blocking the most beautiful view away from him.

“Sorry, this is my first time….” Yor said softly while closing her legs.

Loid didn’t say anything but was staring at her like she was the only woman in the whole wide world. “You…look beautiful, Yor. Do not hide yourself from me. Please, may I continue?”

Yor nodded and put her arms away from her chest, letting him kiss her bare chest and messaged one breast and sucked one nipple, making her moan louder and louder.

“God, Loid, your…your tongue…feels great! Ah!” Yor exclaimed and gasped softly in pleasure, tilting her head back on her pillow and gripped onto the sheets. Loid switched breasts as he bit softly, making her moan even more louder. He massaged them at the same time while watching her reacting to his warm touch.

He felt her hands were squeezing his arms softly and reached up to his strong biceps. His hands caressed her body while she caressed his cheek and she got up on her elbows to kiss him softly on the lips while his hand trailed all the way to her thighs.

He kissed her neck while she played with his blonde locks and then laid her back down again while trailing kisses on her chest, to her belly then went to explore her clitoris. But she covered it with her hands and whimpered.

“Yor…you don’t have to hide away from me. As I said, you are stunningly beautiful. A-and I cannot wait any longer, you are driving the world’s greatest spy crazy.” Loid smirked, licking his lips while she rubbed her thighs together before she lets him take off her underwear and started licking it gently and slowly.

“Ahh! Loid….t-that’s feels so good! More!” Yor moaned as she held onto the sheets in her hands tightly. He licked her more roughly while he squeezed her thighs as she moaned. She watched him getting up and wiped his mouth until he put one finger in her. She screamed and moaned, humping into his hand while he was exploring her folds.

“How does that feel, Yor?” Loid asked softly while he held her hand.

“It feels so…ah!” Yor whimpered, feeling two fingers in her now. She thrusted herself in his hand. She cannot take it anymore as she wanted more of him…him inside of her. “L-Loid?”

“Do you want me to stop?” Loid asked, thinking she doesn’t want to go bit more further.

“No. I do not want you to stop. It’s just did you bring a c-condom? Protection?” Yor asked, looking away from him, covering her mouth.

Loid looked at her in confusion then remembered something. He went to the basket Handler gave him earlier and grabbed the bag filled with little squares, had something in there. Now he gets it now. These are the condoms Yor had mentioned. “These are it…right?” Loid shown her the condom in his hand.

He saw her looking at him lustfully with her eyes shining brightly. She nodded and stood on all fours, watching him taking off his pants and saw his dick with her eyes widening in shock, seeing how big he is. He put the condom aside and he caressed her cheek as she looked at his dick, she gently touched it. She has never done this before but never wanted to disappoint him.

So she took the risk and licked the tip softly hearing him groan softly. She put her hair behind her ear as she sucked all of his dick while he tilted his head back, feeling such a great pleasure. He never felt anything like this. “Ahh, Yor!”

A muffled scream escaped as she pulled away from his dick, seeing more of his juice spilling out while she gulped, taking it all in. She breathe out while looking up at Loid in his eyes. He took a cloth in his hands and wiped it all away.

Loid decided it was time to put on the condom. He put it on and turned to see Yor was opening her legs open for him. Once he was ready, he was rubbing his dick against her, making her whimper and twirl her hair.

Then he thrusted his cock into her as she moaned while he grunted, burying his face onto neck. She held him tightly, both panted heavily. “It…. doesn’t hurt?” Loid asked her quietly.

“No, please do keep going.” Yor replied seductively against his ear as he started to thrust into her, in a perfect rhythm. She loved the sensation she was feeling. She made eye contact with Loid, locking into each other’s eyes before they both kissed each other passionately.

Loid thrusted in her more roughly and held her hands with her legs wrapped around his waist. In no time, he would cum. He stopped while putting one leg up on his shoulder and thrusted slowly into her before doing it roughly.

She moaned louder and louder, holding his arms. How she loved it! She arched her body, feeling something was happening and screamed out loud with Loid holding her body down onto the bed, coming into the condom. He set her leg down and collapsed on her chest, panted heavily while she held him tightly in her arms with a smile.

(~)

Loid and Yor both laid down on their bed with content smiles on their faces, she was leaning on his chest with their legs tangled with each other underneath the sheets. He had his arm around her while staring up at the ceiling with a smile on his face.

He really did it. He made love to the love of his life! But he wondered if she thought he was bad at it and that she would regret it. “Loid?”

“Y-Yes?” Loid saw her getting up and laid on top of his chest.

“Thank you. I mean for this honeymoon, mission, going out for dinner and well… this.” Yor smiled lovingly, creating circles on his chest. “I really enjoyed it. Including the sex part.”

“You’re welcome. I am glad that was successful.” Loid chuckled, brushing her hair out of the way to see her face clearly. “I hope I wasn’t all that bad.”

“Loid, no, no. Y-you were amazing, I must say.” Yor blushed softly while getting up a bit and kissed him softly on the lips. “If we ever do get another chance doing this, we could ask Franky and Yuri to look after Anya again.”

“Of course, I called Franky, she’s asleep now.” Loid smiled at her while she laid her head back down on his chest. “If we are going to do this again…we might need more condoms. I believe we already used them all that Handler gave us.”

Yor giggled, remembering how many times they had done it and it was an amazing night of her life. She got to experience it with the man she truly loves. “I believe so.”

Few Days Later

Loid and Yor came back home to their house with happy and content smiles on their faces and opened their door. “Anya, we are home!” Loid announced until he heard snoring from the living room.

“Aww, how cute, Loid, look!” Yor squealed softly with Loid going in the living room and then gasped softly seeing the big mess right in front of them. But then smiled seeing their daughter sleeping in Yuri’s arms with Franky hugging a pillow in his arms, sucking his thumb.

Loid snickered as he decided to take a photo of them and try to at least tease his brother-in-law and his friend. Maybe show it to the entire agency. “This will be in the history photo albums. I shall show this to everyone in the agency.”

Yor giggled at his antics. It was rather cute to see him all loosened up after doing their missions. She has been blessed to share such a blissful honeymoon with him. It was the best night of her life. She hugged him around his waist with him looking behind to see her smiling.

“Let’s fix up some breakfast and wake them up. We need to report this to Handler.” Loid smiled at her.

“Of course.” Yor smiled brightly while walking towards her daughter and younger brother. Loid could still see she was still a bit sore and wobbly in the legs. But nonetheless, he enjoyed it.

He put the suitcases near the table and watched Anya hugging Yor tightly with Yuri while Franky came hugging Loid tightly. “I am so glad you are back from your honeymoon!”

“Yes, yes, I am glad I am back and what have you done to our house?!” Loid hissed at him grabbing the collar of his shirt. He gulped fearfully and then looked back at the mess in the living room, seeing every packet of candy and chips everywhere, including some crumbs.

“Um… well, that was a very long story.” Franky chuckled nervously at his friend.

“This will be the last time you’ll be babysitting Anya in here. Instead, we are getting her to stay at your place.” Loid whispered.

“Yuri, thank you so much for looking Anya.” Yor smiled at her brother.

“It was no problem. I love my little darling niece with all of my heart.” Yuri smiled warmly at his niece. If anyone has the desire to hurt my niece, I shall shove my gun at their heads and shoot them myself.

Anya was shocked to hear that in her mind and immediately hugged her mother’s leg. “Aw, she missed her parents a lot. I do hope you enjoy your trip.” Yuri hoped as he grabbed his bags. Yor awkwardly looked at Loid who was drinking some water with droplets of sweat falling down from his forehead.

“It was…we have the greatest time of our lives.” Yor chuckled while hugging Yor in her arms.

“Oh, that’s great!” Franky exclaimed, happy for the two. “Now can we go now?”

At the agency, Loid and Yor had left Anya in the care of Franky again while they had talked to Handler. Loid and Yor were standing in front of her desk while she smiled at the two with a grin. This irritated the spy so much he knew how much she was going to tease him.

“Well, well, Twilight, I hope you enjoyed your honeymoon with Yor. I heard the mission was a success. And thank you, Yor for helping us out.” Handler smiled at her.

“Oh, no. thank you. I really do love helping you with your missions. Especially with Loid’s. I am more than happy to work with you again.” Yor blushed bright pink.

“Happy to hear that.” Handler smiled at her. “Loid, you are one lucky guy to have her. Never let her go. You understand?”

Loid smiled at his wife lovingly and held her hand, intertwining their hands together. “I am not planning on letting her go.”

The couple said their goodbyes to Handler and walked back into the hallway to get to Anya with smiles on their faces. Yor saw Anya was running up to them and held out her hands to her with Loid watching with a smile. He got the family has he never thought he would have, and he loves both of his girls and had promised he’ll never leave them.

[oneyanderegirl]

My Personal Experience as a Chinese American

I don’t generally make posts like this, but after the Atlanta shooting, where 6 Asian American women were killed, I wanted to write about my own personal experience with racism as a Chinese American. For years, I have had to deal with several instances where I would be put in situations that made me uncomfortable, annoyed, and angry at the people who decided it would be funny or fun to do so. Almost every time these instances happened, I could only suck it up and play it off as a joke, dismissing my own feelings and forcing myself to accept these situations.

Racism doesn’t just come in form of physical violence. In fact, I feel like for Asians especially, most of it comes from the acts of microaggressions, stereotyping, and general dismissiveness when Asians try to speak up about their experiences. This does not mean that physical violence against Asians does not exist. However, from my own personal experience, I have mostly seen it in its more subtle forms, as mentioned above.

Some people may wonder why didn’t I just speak up then? Why didn’t I just tell them to stop or fuck off with their racism? 

The most simple answer can come down to two reasons. The first reason, and probably biggest reason in my opinion, is the way the media has gaslighted society to accept casual racist remarks and stereotypes made towards Asians. The second reason is because of the way my parents have taught me to stay quiet in these situations because they are afraid of the consequences that could result in speaking up about these issues. 

The media has, for years, stereotyped Asians into being type casted into certain roles; fetishized its women, while mocking its men; and have made the same racist jokes over and over again with no criticism made towards them. Here are some examples: 

1. Characters with ascents being made as a punchline of some joke 

2. The amount of times Asian actors/actresses that have been type casted as martial artists or only selected to act in martial art themed movies 

3. The amount of times Asian actors/actresses that have played the “ lonely, nerdy kid that does nothing but study”  

4. The fetishization of Asian women in porn 

5. Asian men have “smaller dicks”, are “shorter”, and “less manly” compared to other races. 

When you grow up in an environment that constantly portrays Asians as these type of things, it eventually becomes something that you accept, even begrudgingly. To better understand what I mean by this, think about how drug dependence develops. When you constantly use the same drug, for example an opioid, your brain eventually develops a tolerance to it. When this occurs, you require a higher dosage of that same drug in order to feel the same effects that was felt at a lower dosage. Similarly, when the media constantly portrays Asians in this stereotypical manner, you eventually accept it as a part of American culture and require something more drastic to make you feel the same anger, annoyance, and uncomfortableness that caused you to speak up about it in the first place.  

The second reason that I wrote about is my parents. Before I elaborate more about this, I just want whoever is reading this to understand that I do not blame my parents in any way for teaching me to stay quiet about these situations. I hope that you do not either. Rather, I hope after reading this, you will better understand why I and so many other Asian Americans have been taught to stay quiet when dealing with microaggressions and other racial remarks and why it is so difficult to stand up against racism aimed towards us. 

The American dream is something that used to be, and still is, famously discussed and shown off around the world. It is this American ideology, having been passed along to many cultures, that became the reason why so many Asians have tried to immigrate here over the decades and decades of history. When you live in a country with raging war occurring, high poverty, oppressive government or a mix of all three, the people will always end up suffering. Doesn’t the American dream then, sound like the perfect way to escape such a life? 

Escaping such a country isn’t easy. It’s painful because not everyone makes it. Many immigrants end up leaving their entire lives behind. Some have to separate from close friends and family, where they may never see those people again. Others end up leaving their businesses or education behind. It’s not the same as traveling from state to state, they have to travel literally across the ocean, maybe even halfway across the world, to be able to even have a chance to enter this country.  

As if that wasn’t difficult enough, the new difficulties that comes with being an immigrant in a new country adds even more stress. The racism coupled with not being able speak English and having no money, property, or power are all things that many Asian immigrants had to face when they first came to the United States. My parents were no exception. 

For many years, my parents had to suffer working low paying jobs, deal with microaggressions, and being unable to connect with their friends and families, in order to save enough money to buy a home and build a life that could support me enough to allow me to build a stable life for myself. Even now, they are still working hard to make sure that I don’t suffer. 

Why? 

Because that is their American dream.  

That is all they, and many other Asian parents, have always wanted: to see their children live happy, financially stable lives without the suffrage that they were forced to experience in their country during their own life. 

Are they the perfect parents? No. Does this excuse everything? No. However, it does give you insight and understanding as to why they taught us to stay quiet and avoid trouble for all these years. It’s not because they think racism doesn’t exist or that it’s useless to speak up about these issues (though they may say this), it’s because they are afraid. They are afraid for their children. They are afraid of their children getting hurt, being forced under the same circumstances that they had worked so hard to escape from.  So for those parents, racial remarks means nothing to them if it means that they are able to survive and stay alive. It doesn’t mean that they like it, but if you had to choose between starving and living under the fear that the government may one day kill you for war or for going against their ideology versus racial remarks made by ignorant people, wouldn’t the answer be obvious? 

It is because of this, that is why I was always taught to stay quiet or to avoid trouble. That is why over the years, I have tried to push out my own feelings and forced myself to accept these situations. That is why I have always tried to go along with the racial remarks that people try to play off as a “joke” or dismiss these racial remarks as “ no big deal”.  Here are some examples that I have personally experienced over the years: 

1. Being called a “Chink”. 

2. The “ Guess-what-type-of-Asian-am-I game: “ Are you Vietnamese? Japanese?” or “ Where are you from?” or “ What are you?” in a disrespectful manner of speaking. 

3. “ You don’t look Chinese.” followed with “ You’re really dark for a Chinese person.” 

4. Slanted eyes made towards me to show that “ Look, I can be Asian too!!” 

5. “ I heard you eat babies for breakfast.” 

6. “ You’re Asian, you probably just study all day.” 

7. “ I can speak Chinese too: ching chong ling long!” 

8. “ Your eyes are too big to be Chinese,” or “ Your eyes are too small,” 

Nowadays, with the attacks against Asians being higher than ever, when I go out to buy groceries for my family or to go attend my classes, my parents are always afraid. They always tell me to come home as fast as possible. They tell me that they are scared that I am going to get shot by some racist or even worse, murdered. 

For years, we have tried to stay as quiet as possible, to make as little trouble as possible, and to tolerate those racial remarks made against us. Yet we are still being killed for trying to live peacefully amongst ourselves. We are being killed for existing. Worst of all, it is mostly our elderly and immigrant parents who are being targeted. Imagine experiencing so much hardship over the years, going across the continent to a completely new country, working your ass off and suffering for years before finally building a somewhat comfortable life for yourself, and then? You just randomly get killed off by some ignorant, racist murderer who decided they “had a bad day” or some other stupid, insignificant reason and chose you as their target. The American dream that they had worked hard and sought for years and years, all gone now, all because of that stupid, insignificant reason. The Asian Americans who have worked hard to build such a life, won’t ever be able to enjoy its benefits ever again because they are now dead. 

That is why, I have decided to speak up about it. That is why so many Asian Americans have decided to speak up about it. We are tired of staying silent. We are tired of having to keep our suffering quiet. Racism against Asian Americans have always existed. We have always suffered from racism. The myth that Asian Americans are the “ Model Minority” has always been just a way of dismissing our issues. 

So if you are reading this, please listen. Listen to our stories. Learn about our culture. 

Listen to us. 

[storygirl000]

ML Fic: Power Trip

Summary: Lila, in order to keep her sheep in line and punish those who defied her, puts extra time into prepping the class’ end-of-the-year trip.

Unfortunately, she underestimated just how far Marinette would go to upstage her.

Ao3 link here.

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A/N: Something that always bothered me about “Marinette is the best at student council” salt fics was that Lila and/or Alya always have no idea what this position entails. I don’t think that makes sense; assuming Lila tried the same act at previous schools, she’d probably know the ins and outs of working on the student council by now. And Alya wouldn’t just forget her time as Marinette’s class rep assistant just because she hates her now; she’d most likely have a working idea of what that entails, too.

So I chose to make Lila smarter here than she usually is in fics regarding this subject. (No worries – she still gets her karma.)

00000

“I’m so glad you could all come!”

Lila smiled at all of her classmates, who’d gathered with her in Ms. Bustier’s room to discuss some important matters.

She heard Alix mutter something about the gathering being “mandatory” and “another example of Bustier’s favoritism”, but she ignored it.

“Now, as we all know, every year we do an end-of-the-year field trip to some amazing location. As your new Class Representative...”

She paused to shoot a quick smirk at Marinette, who either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“...I propose that this year...we go to Disneyland Paris!”

Naturally, her lackeys cheered for her, and Adrien’s eyes lit up at the idea (she had to thank Gabriel for sheltering the boy as much as he had; it made him so easy to manipulate). The others – the ones that had sided with Marinette – seemed intrigued, but nothing beyond that.

Lila smirked again. This was almost too easy.

She quickly switched to her disappointed role model face. “Unfortunately, Ms. Bustier has ruled that some students will be unable to attend this trip due to all the unacceptable behavior they’ve demonstrated in the past. This includes being discluded from any fundraisers we will have to help fund this trip.”

It took all of five seconds for Marinette and her cronies to realize this meant them.

Naturally, Alya and Chloé protested the loudest, but they were quickly shut down by Adrien, who admonished them for daring to bring their drama into an official class meeting. Upset, they took Marinette and walked out, followed by everyone else who’d supported them.

This left herself, Adrien, Kim, Max (and Markov), Mylene, and Ivan.

Ah, well. She’d worked with less before. She could do this.

With that, they started planning things out.

00000

It didn’t take her long to secure approval from the principal and the school board for the trip. Ms. Bustier had volunteered to be one of their chaperones, and so had Mylene’s father.

With her calculations, she realized that they needed roughly $6000 for the trip. A little flattery (and a promise to keep spying on his son for him) had gotten them a $1500 donation from Gabriel Agreste himself, so that left them to raise $4500 more for the trip. Quickly, they went to work.

The first fundraiser had been a bake sale – Mylene had gotten the idea to theme it after fall, with cute leaf patterns and gourd-shaped cupcakes and the like. And besides, the bake sale was always their first fundraiser of the year. Lila had agreed immediately.

There was only one problem – their main distributor of baked goods was no longer a part of the fundraiser.

Whatever. They didn’t need her anyways.

The group dedicated an entire weekend to baking these treats, and started selling them at school on Monday (after obtaining the permission of the principal and making sure it didn’t collide with any other fundraisers, of course). By the end of the day, they’d raised almost $500.

During her shift, Lila had spotted a pair of boys walk past the table – an older boy in a blue hoodie, and a younger one in a red hoodie. She recognized them as friends of Marinette (Luka and Marc, if she remembered correctly). Listening in on their conversation, she learned that Marinette had apparently hosted a bake sale of her own over the weekend.

She was torn between confusion (why had Marinette done a bake sale?) and confidence (obviously it wasn’t a success). She chose the latter.

By the end of the day, she had Ms. Bustier chewing out Marinette for daring to undermine the class’ fundraiser.

$4000 to go.

00000

Next up was the annual homecoming game and dance. That, like all major school events, had its ticket money split between the various classes and the school overall, with the class that raised the most money getting the lion’s share.

Kim had volunteered to help drum up support for the school team with his girlfriend Ondine (who Lila had promised could come on their class trip after her class had unfairly excluded her for daring to badmouth Marinette). The duo sold tickets fairly fast, their enthusiasm likely playing a part in it.

Lila also noticed that Marinette and her friends were handing out pamphlets for some website – apparently, the former “everyday Ladybug” was trying to launch her own clothing line.

She snorted. Good luck with that – the world of fashion was cruel, fickle, and would probably eat her alive.

The game and dance came and went, and Bustier’s class had sold the second highest amount of tickets after Mendeleiev’s class. The teacher was concerned (they’d always been in the top spot before, for some reason), but Lila didn’t care; they’d gotten $1000 out of the deal, after all.

$3000 to go.

00000

As December came, both Max and Adrien proposed fundraisers for the season.

Max suggested candy cane messages. According to his calculations, these were always successful in previous years.

Adrien suggested that they have girls (and some boys) pay him for a picture of them kissing under the mistletoe.

Max’s idea was the one they went with, but Lila had to say, she was surprised – Adrien had never tried to use his looks to his advantage before. Perhaps her own cunning mind was rubbing off on him.

She could deal with that.

As Max had predicted, the plan was a success, netting them more cash than their previous endeavors. Everyone in school had wanted to send a message to someone else, be it a friend, a crush, or a teacher. Even Lila herself had gotten a few.

Over the course of the fundraiser, she’d overheard a conversation between Marinette (ugh), Juleka, Rose, and two girls from Mendeleiev’s class (Aurore and Mireille, right?) about some trip they were going to go on.

Hmph. So Marinette was going to force another class to accommodate her and her friends, huh? So be it.

She quickly told Ms. Bustier of this new development, and smirked as she watched the teacher chew out Marinette for daring to drag another class into her drama.

$1500 to go.

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Christmas and New Year’s came and went, and Valentine’s Day was coming up. And so was the Valentine’s Day dance.

Ivan was the one who came up with the idea to sell heart-shaped candy and Hershey’s kisses alongside the tickets, and everyone agreed it was a good way to get some extra money if they failed to get enough money to fund the rest of the trip. Lila agreed to it, but warned that she wouldn’t be able to help as much as she had before; after all, she had to start preparing all the necessary paperwork for the trip.

Sure enough, the plan went off without a hitch. The class once again managed to get the top spot, and the candy sales more than made up for what they lacked. They were going to Disneyland Paris.

She then had one last encounter with Marinette’s allies – Luka and Nathaniel were putting up fliers for a Jagged Stone concert. When she bragged to Nathaniel about how her leadership had netted them the trip, he’d given her a cold smile and an odd response.

“Oh, that’s alright. We already have a trip planned that we need to fundraise.”

Privately, Lila celebrated. With Marinette on their side, it was more than likely that Mendeleiev’s class was going to fall short of their goals.

After all, she was completely useless.

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The end of the year came, and so did the class’ (and Ondine’s) three days in Disneyland Paris.

Naturally, the whole trip had been amazing. They had plenty of photos and souvenirs to share with their less fortunate classmates (officially, to make sure they weren’t “entirely left out”; unofficially, to brag). And Lila had finally gotten Adrien to kiss her.

Lila had wanted to gather the entire class together so that she could make Marinette and her cronies feel even worse, but strangely none of them were there when she got back. Neither were several kids from Mendeleiev’s class (Aurore, Mireille, Marc, and Kagami) or Luka, for that matter.

She didn’t know why until her lackeys started sending her urgent texts.

She looked at them...and her stomach dropped.

It was an Instagram post of Marinette, Alya, and Chloé at an airport; Marinette was sitting on a suitcase, Alya was holding the phone, and Chloé pretended to be distracted by doing her makeup.

The caption read “Taking a trip across the states with all of our friends!!! It was originally gonna be the class trip, but that fell through.”

So that was what the brat had been planning.

Lila felt herself go pale.

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Lila spent the rest of the summer checking Marinette, Alya, and Chloé’s Instagrams (and Nino’s, which was likely gotten just to help rub salt in the wound). Each adventure felt more unbelievable than the last.

First was New York City, where Marinette had apparently managed to secure the group a tour of the Avengers Tower. There were photos of Chloé sassing Tony Stark (and Pepper trying her hardest not to laugh and/or give the girl an apprenticeship on the spot in the background). Of Rose and Juleka on Captain America’s shoulders, fangirling over him. Of Alix, who mostly took selfies with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. Of Kagami and Sabrina (of all people) helping Stark’s young interns (Peter, Harley, Shuri, Ned, MJ, and Riri, apparently) play various pranks around the tower.

Alya posted an interview where she asked the heroes questions about Paris’ own heroes on the Ladyblog, and the site’s traffic immediately tripled.

The next location was Miami, Florida. According to Marinette, this destination was meant to be more low-key.

Which meant they just so happened to enter a music shop that international pop star Austin Moon was frequenting at the time. And it just so happened to be the shop run in part by his girlfriend and frequent collaborator Ally Dawson.

Naturally, this lead to photos of Luka and Nino jamming out with the two of them and their friends.

And, apparently, Marinette decided to namedrop Lila. Because the next video on her Instagram was one of Austin’s manager angrily cursing the Italian’s name (and that of Adrien, for some reason) for bullying such an amazing girl and lying to her classmates about it.

Lila wasn’t surprised when she and Adrien were kicked out of the class’ group chat shortly afterwards. She was too numb to be surprised at that point.

Next was Gotham City, which naturally lead to photos with both successful billionaire Bruce Wayne and resident superhero Batman. And all their kids. And the nicer Rogues (often with Nathaniel and Marc loudly sassing their villainous plans in the background).

Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark had apparently gotten into a Twitter war over who was going to adopt the group first. Alya had responded by suggesting they get shared custody.

Next was Hollywood, California. Marinette managed to get photos with Finn Wolfhard and Mckenna Grace on the set of the new Ghostbusters movie (and their numbers, if the captions were to be believed). Chloé, meanwhile, preferred to take photos of all the hunky actors and beautiful actresses walking around.

Their final destination had been Hawaii. That one (much to Lila’s surprise) did not end with the class meeting a celebrity; however, they did get to meet students from a Japanese school that had apparently had the same idea as them.

Alya took photos with some kid named Mishima, claiming they had something in common. Other photos were taken with a pair of blonde kids (Lila didn’t know if they were siblings or not, but given their apparent romantic closeness, the latter was more likely), a brown-haired girl, and a blue-haired boy.

The most photos, however, were those of Marinette with a boy her age, with messy black hair and glasses. Judging from Alya and Chloé’s comments, the two were into each other.

Lila couldn’t take it. She’d thrown her phone against the wall at that.

How was Marinette having so much fun when she’d done her best to ruin her life?

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Finally, school started up again. Predictably, everyone was glaring at Lila when she entered the building – even her former sheep.

She was the first to enter the classroom. As everyone filed in, they shot a glare at her – or at Adrien, who’d apparently been dragged down with her.

Marinette was the last to enter. She stood in front of Lila’s desk, gave her a cold smile, and asked her one thing.

“So, Lila! How was your summer?”

Lila wanted to scream.