#i don't suppose i could turn either of those in for a grade could i

[thrassisfras]

Crazy how not wanting to do my final essays for two of my classes has propelled me to write both an entirely separate essay for fun but also to start plotting out a story idea I've had on the backburner for a couple years.

[banjjjangg]

HELLOO i saw that you were taking requests and i was wondering if you could maybe do an enemies to lovers fic with kazuha or wanderer? fluff ofcourse

thankyou and i hope you have a nice day hehehe

Supposed to Hate

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader

— Info: Oneshot + smau, modern au, highschool au, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, forced proximity(?), banter, fluff, crack.

— Sypnosis: It's tough having to constantly fight for the top place with someone as annoying as Scaramouche, your arch nemesis. But bad luck struck the both of you and you're suddenly partnered with him for a project.

Now Playing: Not Another Song About Love by Hollywood Ending. (I had a gacha phase)

Notes: timestamps don't matter, swearing

A/n: first request!! I hope this is what you wanted and have a nice day too anon (^o^)! (p.s. I'm sorry this took so long 😭)

To say that you're just rivals would be an understatement.

You and Scaramouche have always been on eachother's throats since freshman year. Why, you ask? Well you're always neck and neck when it comes to so many things, like grades, debate competitions, leader roles, higher position in the student council, and even popularity amongst students and teachers.

Your feud started when he openly insulted you. You see, competing for the top was one thing, insulting someone that you don't even know that much was another. The moment he started saying stuff like "who? Y/n? Tsk, that girl is only good at academics. In anything outside that, she's nothing." you knew you'll forever hate his guts. I mean, who is he to know what you're good at or not good at? He's barely even your acquaintance! You were just eachother schoolmates yet he has the nerve to say those thing to you? How revolting! You thought.

Oh but isn't this just a silly little competition? Well, not for the two of you. It has come to the point that you'd just openly curse and send middle fingers to eachother (without the teachers noticing of course).

.

This is why you were horrified to hear your teacher say that your partner for a huge project accumulating 20% of your grade would be him. You turned around and glanced at his table in the corner of the room and you can tell that he didn't like what he just heard either.

"But wouldn't pairing the two smartest people in class be unfair?" your seatmate whispered to you. Atleast you and Scaramouche weren't the only ones unhappy with this pairing. But did anyone object the teacher? Of course not. Unfortunately, your science teacher was very strict, and saying just one word wrong would be a one-way ticket to detention.

The class ended and now you were forced to accept the reality that you're supposed to work with Scaramouche for 20% of your grade. You notice him approach you with a small ripped up paper in his hand.

"For the girl who got 79 on math" he said, smirking, while reaching the paper in front of you.

"It's because my calculator broke, nerd." you spat back as you harshly grab the paper in his hand. You immediately went on your way out of the classroom.

What was on the paper? His number.

.

.

Day one.

You made your way to the door as soon as you hear your doorbell ring. You swiftly unlocked and opened it to see Scaramouche standing there with his backpack in hand. Before you could say anything to him, he walked past you and went inside your apartment. He placed his backpack on the couch as he sat on it himself.

"Rude." you whispered, likely to yourself.

"I heard that." he said while glaring at you.

"Good." you added, rolling your eyes as you sat on the small couch right infront of the bigger couch that he's sitting in.

The first day of working on the project was a mess. There were a lot of disagreements and arguments that happened but in the end, the two of you finally got to agree on something to work on involving the project.

.

Day two.

Thankfully, day two of working on the project was a lot more 'calmer' than day one. Yes, there were still disagreements but there were also agreements or at least more than the first day. For the sake of the project the both of you learned to somehow tolerate eachother.

.

Day three.

Once you heard your doorbell ring, you immediately went to unlock and open the door. It was Scaramouche of course, the two of you were still working on a project after all. But something seemed off about him, you can't pinpoint it, maybe it's because of his skin that's paler than usual? Or his expression that seemed tired or exhausted? You decide to shrug it off, it was none of your business.

There was still no greeting and he just went straight into your apartment to the couch where he usually sat on. You didn't comment anything because by now you were used to it.

You sat on the smaller couch right infront of the one he's sitting on. You were grabbing some materials on your backpack when suddenly—

*Cough* *cough* *cough*

You looked up from what you were doing and stared at him. He was covering his mouth with his hands, so this was what felt off.

"What?" he was glaring at you like you did something weird.

"Are you sick?"

"Is it not normal to cough every now and then?"

"It's not just that... You look..pale"

"It's none of your business" His response obviously annoyed you as you roll your eyes and continued what you were doing. He was right, it is none of your business.

But the thing is while you were working on the project he would cough, a lot, and you were getting annoyed and even concerned at what was happening to him. Once you've decided that enough is enough, you stood up and made your way to the cabinet where you keep various over the counter medicine incase you needed them. You grabbed the ones for cough and made your way back to the living room.

You reached your hand with the medicine for him to grab. He looked at it then looked at you with a 'what the fuck is this?' type of look.

"Take it, I'm being nice here." you said, insisting that he grab the medicine in your hands.

"Stop that." he said as he looks at you with suspicion.

"Stop what?"

"Being nice to me."

"Am I not allowed to be a decent human being now?"

"You're supposed to hate me." you scoff at what he just said.

You grabbed his hand and placed the medicine on top of his palm. "Literally just take the medicine." you insisted once again before going back to sit on the couch you were sitting on.

The day continued as it normally would, his coughs thankfully lessened but his annoying antics also lessened, you wouldn't complain though.

.

Day four.

This day is a bit different, because Scaramouche has been oddly nice to you. No, I don't mean that he suddenly turned overly kind, I meant the small things that he normally wouldn't do like instead of telling you to "do it yourself" whenever you ask him to pass you something or do something for you, he actually does it now. You've also noticed that he seemed less annoyed at you or at least lesser than usual.

Overall, it made him less annoying so it made things easier for the both of you. You've also taken it upon yourself to not be as annoyed at him as you usually would. All this lead to the two of you actually having a casual conversation intead of the usual "I'm only talking to you because of this stupid project" type of interactions. It was so odd and fascinating to the extent that at some point the two of you would make genuine jokes instead of sarcastic remarks. But of course it all ended with the "dang I'm supposed to hate you" realization.

But hey, maybe Scaramouche isn't that bad after all.

.

Day five.

The day of the presentation, the two you were sitting on your usual seats in class while waiting for the teacher, meanwhile, all your other classmates were double checking their projects. You heard your phones notification so you grabbed it from your pocket, it was a message from scaramouche, you turned around and glanced at him just to him on his phone while typing something.

.

Navigation

[jesterofcringe]

Detention Teen!James Hook x Reader

★ notes : friends to rivals, unrequited love, absolutely not proof read ★

this is based on the breakfast club, and as such the relationship between Hook and Reader is the same as Bender and Andy's for those who have seen the movie if you haven't seen it- in short, Hook is the rebel character and Reader is the athlete ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

★ "Fucking dumbass!" You groaned, "I can't believe I have to spend my whole afternoon in detention and it's all your fault."

★ "Oh please," James said with a heavy eye roll, "Don't blame me, you're the one who swung first."

★ "Yeah, as if you'd stop talking all that shit on your own. You did that on purpose."

★ It was true, you had swung first. The VKs were being assholes, per-usual, and making sharp comments towards you and your friends. But for whatever reason, James seemed to be completely focused on you. From dissing your clothes to dissing your grades, he made sure to hit you where it hurt. Your hobbies, your classes, your homelife, James barely gave you a moment to breathe. Of course, you wouldn't let that slide. Problem was, you sucked with clap backs. Instead, you punched him square in the nose, causing it to bleed. James wasn't a great fighter, but he didn't want to look bad in front of his friends, so he swung back. He nicked your jaw and before you knew it, a full on fight had broken out in the courtyard between you two.

★ Now here you were, locked away for the next few hours, all because you wanted to get James to shut up.

★ It was uncomfortably stuffy in the library- the AC was broken making the room horribly warm. It didn't help that today was the day you decided to wear your letterman jacket. As soon as you found your seat, you peeled off your jacket and hung it over the side of the chair. You leaned forward, resting your head on the table.

★ James more or less did the same- he took his jacket off and tossed it onto the seat next to him, before settling into his own seat. He leaned back and rested his feat on the table, the back of his chair legs being his only source of balance. You kind of hoped he would lean a little too far and fall backwards.

★ As the time ticked away, your leg subconsciously started to bounce. Less out of anxiety, more out of pure boredom. Barely an hour in and you wanted to claw your eyes out. You could only stare at the clock for so long, and even then the staring almost made it seem as if the clock was moving slower. You twiddled with your thumbs, you used your pens as drumsticks, but it wasn't the boredom quencher you hoped it was. Although you thought you were being inconspicuous, the rhythmic tapping of your foot could only be ignored for so long before James turned to look at you with a sly grin spread across his face.

★ "Awh, getting anxious because it's your first time in detention?"

★ "Keep it up and I'll punch you again."

★ James held up his hands [hand, singular?] defensively and whistled, "Duly noted."

★ The silence was cutting, and obviously James couldn't stand it either. Normally when he was in detention, his friends were stuck with him. This was the first time he was trapped with someone he didn't quite get along with. James absolutely couldn't stand it, and decided witty conversation was better than no conversation.

★ "Somebody's in a mood."

★ "I was supposed to have practice today and now I can't make. Thanks to you."

★ "Do you get kicked off the team for getting into trouble?"

★ "No, but if I miss too much practice I will."

★ James paused for a moment, considering this, "If you ever lose your spot on the team I'm sure I could convince Uliana to let you back in the crew?"

★ To be quite honest, the offer didn't sound half bad. You were apart of the crew way back in middle school- the bunch of you were childhood friends, traveling through school as a team. When you enrolled in Merlin's you decided to take up a sport. While you did spend as much time as you could with the crew, practice and games took up most of your free time. Eventually you had to make a choice, and decided to split off from the crew, finding a new home with the friend group formed from your team.

★ To this day, James was mad at your decision. Back when you were friends, James was closest to you. The two of you were thick as thieves, an undeniably chaotic duo. As you got older, a crush began to blossom in the back of James' heart. While his friends pressured him to confess to you, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was dreadfully scared of ruining the bond you had. When you eventually left the crew, he was shattered. Absolutely crushed that he had lost his chance, feeling completely betrayed at the fact that you had split off from the group as easily as you had.

★ He was still pissed off about it, and decided to take it out by picking on you and generally being a pest. You ignored it to the best of your ability, but eventually enough was enough and you decided to shove back. Well, less shove, more punch. And now you were both locked away, the both of you overly conflicted about your feelings.

★ To be quite honest, you missed him as well. But your sport was important to you. You had a family on your team, and you really felt like you belonged among them. Not to mention, you were pretty damn good at it too. You could make a career out of this, and you were kinda hoping to. You couldn't just throw that all away to bully the nice kids and smoke behind the bleachers with your old crew.

★ So after really taking James' offer into consideration, you sighed, "Yeah right, as if."

★ "I'm being serious-"

★ "So am I."

★ James crossed his arms, and pretended not to feel hurt, "Whatever. Suit yourself."

★ It was almost like there was a wall in between you and James. Despite being so close, you couldn't help but feel so apart. Here you were, being forced to stay in a room with your childhood best friend, and all of your interactions had somehow turned sour. You kind of wished things could go back to the way they were, but you were happy with your life now. You just wished James could've felt the same instead of feeling resentful and making it your problem.

★ When Merlin came in and announced detention was up, you were practically halfway out the door before he had the chance to finish speaking. James on the other hand, chose to linger. He took his sweet time gathering his things before heading out. Right before he could make his exit, he noticed you left your jacket behind in your rush to leave. While he could've just left it, he picked it up and tossed it over his shoulder.

★ He could've done all sorts of things to your jacket just to get under your skin- staining the fabric or tearing it to shreds popped into his head first- but those were decidedly not his idea of a good prank. Instead rather, James decided he'd love to see your face when he showed up to school Monday wearing your letterman and in turn making people assume your time together was something more than just detention.

[justauthoring]

"inumaki-senpai!"

god, did you have to call after him like that?

everything in him twists, a blooming sensation rumbling through him as he feels himself stuck in spot, warmth flooding his cheeks as he tries to push himself to turn. when he finally does, you're standing there with a bright smile, eyes twinkling and laughing as you wave him over.

with wobbly legs, he makes his way over.

"kelp."

"good news," you grin, all wide and giggling. "gojo-sensei assigned us to a mission together."

"mustard leaf?" he calls back, head tilting in confusion. he'd known he had a mission, but last he'd checked it wasn't supposed to be with you.

"maki-senpai got called into another mission," you explain, "i'm the closest to her fighting style so they pulled me in to cover for her." then, pausing at furrow of inumaki's brows, you move to add softly; "i hope that's alright."

panicked at your doubt, inumaki is quick to shake his head; "bonito flakes," he calls, shaking his head. he takes a step towards you, hand held out towards you in worry; "mustard leaf," he expresses, trying to get his meaning across.

the truth was this mission was labeled a grade two, a little below his skill set and probably the same for maki even if she'd been labelled grade four. it wasn't that inumaki didn't have faith in your abilities, it's just that missions rarely ever stayed the grade they were presented as and you'd only recently been recommended for grade three. plus, despite how skilled you may be, you were only a first year and fairly new to missions and fighting curses.

inumaki knew you were skilled. he knew you had talented that had only been touched on the surface. but he also knew you were new, just learning how to use your cursed technique to it's fullest potential and he worried this mission would be too much.

"oh," you mumble in realization. inumaki half expects you to be mad that he's doubting you, something he desperately isn't trying to do or, at the very least, be upset. but you aren't either and instead, you just smile, eyes twinkling with warmth as you send a thumbs up inumaki's way. "don't worry, inumaki-senpai! gojo-sensei briefed me beforehand and assured me to let you take the lead. plus, i trust you."

and honestly, inumaki can't deny the way his heart flutters at those words.

you... trust him?

him who can't even talk to you properly? who can't tell you how he feels in any normal way or express the things he wants in the way he wants to. he's never been able to have a proper conversation with anyone, let alone you, and yet you say the words with such undeniable confidence.

so, with that, he eases, feeling the tension in his shoulders wash away at the assurance that you know he'll keep you safe, and he grins, "salmon!"

-

his throat is burning.

he's coughed more blood then he's sure he's ever coughed.

but he couldn't stop, not now. you were losing energy, and fast, and a single look over his shoulder told him the curse you were fighting was far too strong for you; at least not in the state you were in.

and he still had the curse in front of him to deal with before he could even reach you.

patting his pockets, inumaki curses himself -- why hadn't he brought more throat medicine with him again? oh, that's right, because he'd thought two whole bottles would be enough.

clearly he was wrong.

a cry catches his attention, and with panic striking his whole body, inumaki glances back at you, terror making him freeze when he sees you thrown back, cradling your stomach and coughing as you struggle to stand.

there was no more time to waste. even if it killed him he wouldn't let you die here.

i trust you.

swallowing thickly and ignoring the burn in his throat, inumaki faces the curse in front of him once again, using every bit of his strength to muster the energy and call out; "explode."

he feels the effects of it immediately, his throat swelling with his own blood as his eyes twist in pain. everything hurts so bad. but hearing your whimper is enough to remind him he doesn't have the time, and he forces his legs to move, running to where you are. your eyes widen at the sight of him, and even more at the blood drooling down his chin.

"i-inumaki-senpai--"

"die!"

the words are too much. but he feels the anger at the curse for having hurt you, and the worry he'd felt when he'd first gotten separate from you to this moment that the word just slipped past his lips before he could stop himself and it works, because in a second the curse you'd been fighting is spasming and then crumbling and fading away, dying.

but then his vision is blurring and he's coughing, blood spitting from his mouth in an alarming rate that he realizes he's terrified but he can't say or do anything about it. his body slumps and he distantly hears you crying for him, before he's spun and sees you hovering over him, tears in your eyes, screaming for him.

"inumaki-senpai!"

but his eyes close in the next second.

-

when he opens them next, there's a weight on his lap.

he's confused, not sure where he is, before he recognizes the familiar ceiling of his dorm room and the relief of the fact that he's not dead like he thought he was for a second is all too welcoming.

and that weight--

sitting up, his eyes lower, widening in surprise when he sees you slumped over his bed, head in your arms, directly on his lap.

his cheeks burn red, embarrassment flooding him, until he realizes you're peacefully asleep, unaware of what's happening around you. and you look so cute, so blissfully unaware as you sleep away. he lets his eyes wander, taking you in completely, the guilty realization washing over him that you haven't left his bed what seems like a while.

"kelp."

he sets his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you away (even if he'd like to look at your cute sleeping face longer).

you moan slightly at the sensation, eyes blinking, glancing around before settling on inumaki, awake and sitting up in his bed. it takes a second, a moment of nothing, before you're shooting forward, a gleeful 'inumaki-senpai!' leaving your lips as you wrap your arms firmly around his shoulders, knocking him back with a huff of surprise.

"you're awake!"

his hand falls on your back, still blushing, as you slowly pull away, meeting his eyes. then, as if realizing what you'd done, your eyes widen and you pull back, bright red.

"mustard leaf?"

"i-i'm sorry," you stutter out, waving your hands in your face, "i just... i was just excited to see you awake that i acted without thinking and--"

laughing lightly, inumaki takes your hand in his, halting your rambling and pulling your eyes back on him. you pause at the action, stilling as you meet his gaze, only for him to be smiling softly back at you.

"tuna." he mumbles, letting his eyes drift across you.

you flush under the gaze; "i'm okay," you assure, understanding his meaning. "you're the only one who got hurt... and it was because i wasn't strong enough..."

"bonito flakes," he argues, shaking his head.

i would do anything to protect you, he wants to say.

you just frown; "still... i'm so sorry, inumaki-senpai."

desperate for you to understand, inumaki pulls you forward by you arm gently, tugging you into his lap. you fall rather clumsily into him, awkwardly bent over his bed and inches away from his face, feeling your entire burn in response to suddenly being so close.

but inumaki doesn't let himself waver.

this is my chance.

he leans forward, pressing his lips against yours so... gently. your eyes widen at the action, unsure what to do as he expresses every emotion he's ever wanted to say in that moment, and you feel it. feel it in every way. feel the slight rumble of cursed energy from his lips as he kisses you, feeling yourself swoon at the fact that your crush is actually kissing you.

and when he pulls back, he just grins.

"inumaki-senpai..."

he pauses, looking around himself for a second before his eyes fall on what he needs, grabbing a pen and paper off his night table. he scribbles on it quickly before turning it to face you.

i like you.

and you giggle because how was that not clear from him kissing you?

but still, with warm cheeks and twinkling eyes, you smile;

"i like you too, inumaki-senpai."

[kitorin]

boyfriend headcanons ! itoshi rin

contents. how you met, how you got to know each other, when he realized he liked you, how you started dating, dates, all fluff

warning. rin backstory spoilers, i can't write kiss scenes either, written with all lowercase intended, it's word vomit bc school has screwed me up mentally and i can't think properly atp lmao

a/n. reo, rensuke and yoichi ver coming soon, was supposed to be all four of them but tumblr didn't save some stuff so i lost motivation and i probably wrote too much for rin anyways

how you met

you were invited to hang out with a group of friends, but ended up hating it since you were basically invisible, since everyone else were talking about a common interest you didn't have

you ended up walking away, finding somewhere actually interesting, and found a muji store (minimalist retailer that sells a lot of household items and more), and had your own fun, looking through stationary, skin care, nice clothes, and more.

you were having a great time until you heard someone from the hangout looking for you and calling

rin who notices your panic right next to him, questions what's wrong (not necessarily out of concern, honestly probably because he may have found it slightly irritating)

after you explain your situation briefly, he nods and finds you somewhere to hide, and goes to deal with your friend

he's got perfect control over his facial expressions, he'd easily lie and even if your friend was persistent, he'd still scare him away

"haven't seen them in here, they left a while ago and you better stop yelling,"

"are you sure-?"

"yes. now piss off and stop disturbing everyone here,"

once he's sure your friend's gone, he goes back to where he instructed you to hide, giving you the clear

"i hope that lukewarm asshole wasn't your ex."

you're slightly amused at the word 'lukewarm' it wasn't a typical description you'd hear often. "nope, i'd never date him. thank you so much though. i really appreciate it, please let me do a favor for you"

before he can object, you grab a sample pen, scrawling your number on his hand, "send me a text and i'll do my best to help you with anything okay?" you send him a smile as his eyes widen in shock, "bye kind stranger, have a great day," and before he could respond, you were gone, rushing out the store out of embarrassment for not being able to slip away from your friend uncaught.

how he got to know you

[unknown number] : i really don't need a favor you know?

i hated that idiot anyways, loud and annoying

[you] : don't careeee, i want to make it up to you somehow, please?

i'm y/n, you?

[unknown number] : rin, itoshi rin

after he gave in to your offer, you ended up tutoring him, he didn't care about grades but his high school had a rule of requiring a certain standard of grades to compete in tournaments

turns out he wasn't even a bad student, he's diligent and consistent, he only needed a little bit of guidance and advice, with math being the exception

in between sessions, during breaks and outside of your tuition you'd talk a lot, considering how rin has no friends ("neither do you, your toxic ass friends shouldn't count" he replies when you realize it) and you're patient enough to deal with his personality

even after he has his grades up you still hangout with each other, watching horror movies, playing horror games, reading horror novels / comics (you introduced him to junji ito), and he'd even teach you some soccer when you visit his training. he also tries out all your hobbies and favourite things to do and eat

you two spend so much time together, simply because one has no other friends and the other has no healthy friendships

how he knew he liked you

BRO WAS IN DENIAL. FOR. SO. FUCKING. LONG.

he thought he had a health problem or fever when he felt his face getting hot, or that odd sensation in his stomach, or his heart relentlessly pounding against his chest

he tries to research it, doesn't believe it when he sees all those love related posts, so he literally goes to a doctor

his doctor probably almost instantly realized, and had to deal with rin's denial

"you experience these 'symptoms' with a certain someone, don't you?" the doctor doesn't even bother with noting down anything, he's 100% sure and knows it's perfectly in character for rin to do something like this

"that's not possible- that doesn't make se-," he pauses, and recalls that he only felt that way when it came to you, "... yes," he's sort of bashful, slightly embarrassed but quickly composes himself again. 'i apologise for doubting you, please continue,"

"no worries," with a grin, his doctor prepared leave and meet his next patient, "i diagnose you with love sickness,"

when i tell you, this man fucking asked him what meds to take and what to do as self treatment

his poor doctor mentally face palmed himself, sat himself back down and had a (long) talk with this emotionally repressed boy

rin still insists it's something medically wrong, but he's soon shoo-ed out of the office, while hastily being told to make sure he's honest with his feelings, otherwise it never goes right

back at home, he's lying in bed, revising what his doctor said

"rin you need to learn how to acknowledge your emotions. i understand they're confusing and i'm not a therapist, but you can't keep denying it. it's just as unhealthy to neglect your emotions as it is to ignore an injury,"

...

denial huh?

he thinks of you and his heart once again can't calm down, his face burns and his stomach is doing somersaults. he buries his face in his palm, groaning. he hated anything unfamiliar, anything that he couldn't navigate with confidence, or fully comprehend.

"do you really despise it? or do you refuse to acknowledge your feelings because you've never experienced something like this,"

his doctor's advice comes back to him, and he thinks.

if he truly loathed how you made him feel, why is he still hanging out with you, why is he still investing his time into you, why do you make him so damn happy?

he passed out eventually completely lost in thought

how you ended up dating

some time passes and you finally have the courage to confess to him only to receive a cold "i don't feel the same way," a complete lie

accepting his emotions was one thing, accepting a relationship is another. he could immediately feel regret clawing at his stomach, he wanted to tell you. badly, how much he likes you, your patience, intelligence, your kindness, literally everything

yet nothing comes out. only his stoic and stupid facade's character

you walk away after mumbling out an apology for making things awkward, and rin's left there standing, finger nails digging crescents of frustration into his palm

he's overwhelmed with his thoughts, some insisting for him to give up and accept that he fucked up, others demanding him to move and fix things

what would be worse than losing you, anyways?

and that last thought was the final push, he's basically sprinting towards you, soon his arms are wrapped around you, releasing a gasp of surprise from you.

"ri-?"

"i lied," rin blurts, internally screaming at himself to just say it, "i lied, i know i shouldn't have and i'm sorry. but i like you too much, i can't express or understand my feelings, i don't know anything about relationships or love either, and i wanted to hide how i felt so i wouldn't get hurt,"

"rin-," he doesn't let you finish, ignoring your whisper.

"but i don't care, i like you so much that i'm willing to risk hurting myself, anything's worth it if i can be with you, spend time with you, and love you. if it's for you i'd overcome all my fears of love. i can't afford love, but if it's for you i don't care anymore,"

"you're perfect, you always have been," he concludes his speech, almost breathless from how rushed it was. scarlet was dusted all over his face, teal eyes wide open.

that fact rin, someone who's never been good at communication, went this far to express how he feels for you, warms your heart even more.

"rin?"

"yes?"

"may i kiss you?"

somehow, he blushes even more, and as he nods your lips press together.

dates + other headcanons

MOVIE NIGHTS !! not at cinemas though since he prefers the comfort and privacy of his room, and doesn't like how loud or dirty cinemas can get

doesn't want to force you into anything too scary, but he secretly enjoys it when you end up clinging onto him

since he struggles with articulating his emotions, he likes using playlists and songs to (die for you - weeknd, shinunoga iiwa - fujii kaze, love, maybe - melomance, sweet - cigarettes after sex, COME INSIDE OF MY HEART - IV SPADES SUITS HIM SO WELL)

he's not a fan of pda, yet he wants to show you off to everyone he knows

if you genuinely like soccer and have an interest in it (obviously doesn't want to force you to watch 90 minutes of a sport you don't like) he'd watch his favourite games with you, even books tickets for the both of you if there are any good teams competing nearby

also takes great interest in your sports !! reads a lot about them so he can discuss them with you, and if you also compete in sports he puts together a training routine for you and asks to go to the gym together (say yes dumbass)

SURFINGGGG !! since he grew up in kamakura, he loves the beach and went to swim and surf a lot as a kid and would love to do it again with you, even if he hasn't done it in ten years (same rin, same). same with hiking too (kamakura's also famous for it as well)

visits the store with you where he always bought ice blocks with sae, the same lady who worked there when sae and rin still got around is still there, congratulates him for getting a partner, is proud of him

he's a great listener too, he prefers it over speaking a lot and you can talk to him about anything, whether you're talking shit about someone (he'd join in and start swearing) and or you're hyperfixating on your interests

whenever he gets a question related to his love life he takes a moment to blush when he thinks of you, pauses to compose himself (keeps you a secret for your privacy from the media), then says with a straight face that soccer is a priority, but everyone knows he's lying

©kouyun : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[blitzyn]

holy- the zhongli request is 🥹💝✨✨✨ idk if its possible but hoping for part 2 maybe when reader purposely didn't pass the exam. i love every word you write 😭🫶 have a nice day/night and stay safe!!

a different method pt.2

teacher!zhongli x m!reader

Synopsis: You were not expecting to end up on your knees when you failed the test.

part 1 | part 3

a/n -> HELP I THINK I GOT COVID AGAIN??? anyways super sorry this took an eternity to get out! also thank you all for 600 followers!

wc -> 1.8k

cw -> facefucking, shoe humping, semi-public, not proofread

"What am I going to have to do to make you take this class seriously?"

You blinked owlishly. It would be a lie to say you were completely expecting such an inquiry. Slightly tilting your head, you pondered your teacher's question. There wasn't much, really. But all of those options weren't significant enough to motivate you.

Reaching a quick conclusion, you shrugged your shoulders. "I dunno. A million Mora?"

He was not amused. With a sigh, he turned away from you and held your test. A somewhat large "40/100" was written on the top of the page in red ink. It obviously wasn't enough to improve your current grade, and might have even dropped it even further. If an F- was a thing, you were positive you'd have it. But, hey, at least it wasn't a zero! There was some effort.

"Did you even try?" Zhongli knows he's not supposed to ask questions like this because everyone learns at their own pace. But you made it nearly impossible for him to teach you. It wasn't even a hard test, either. Everyone managed to acquire a passing grade except for you.

"I mean. Kind of," you replied. You answered the questions you knew off the top of your head and left those that needed you to think. You were sure you could've passed if you put in a bit more effort. It truthfully was an easy test, but who actually tries in a class they don't even like? Not you, that's for sure.

"I noticed that the grades for your other classes are higher. Is there something you don't like me doing?" He seemed genuine. It almost made you feel bad.

"No. Everything's just so boring here." You shook your head. Crossing your arms, you looked around the room to curb your growing impatience to leave.

He hummed. "You're fidgeting quite a lot. Are you expecting something?"

You peered at him with a confused expression. But despite your bemused guise, yes, you were. You swallowed nervously. Was it really that obvious?

Maybe he doesn't know, yet.

"No?" you finally spoke. You mentally cursed the uncertain tone in your voice. Fuck.

"Really?" He beckoned you closer to him. As soon as you were within arm's reach, he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pulled you to him. "It seems to me you haven't forgotten about what happened two weeks ago. You purposely failed, didn't you?"

You tried to jerk away from him in a surprised panic. "What? No, I didn't!"

He had such a tight grip on your shirt you were briefly afraid that he might tear it. "Do not deny the blatant truth." His eyes flicked downwards. You followed his shameless gaze, surprised to see yourself hardening within the confines of your pants. You were too caught up trying to defend yourself you hadn't realized the intensifying warmth traveling through your veins.

Your mouth was left agape, mind blank and unable to forge an excuse. "I..."

Zhongli raised an expectant brow, waiting for the waterfall of words to pour out of your mouth in a futile attempt to save your dignity and pride, even when he knew it was unlikely. Perhaps that was your attempt?

He kept you at arm's length as he studied your heated face, which only made you squirm further. You could barely stand to look him in the eyes, locking gazes every so often before it was promptly broken to look elsewhere.

It's pitiful, he thought. But he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy your distress. With yet another hum, he used his free hand to pull you to your knees. You stared at him with a surprised expression as if this wasn't exactly what you wanted.

"Well? Go on," he said, leaning back against his chair. Nodding nervously, you removed his belt and unzipped his pants to pull out his cock. You could feel your mouth involuntarily watering at the sight. You flattened your tongue and gave a lick from base to tip. You gently sucked on the head before moving lower, stopping just before he reached your throat.

You relished in the deep groan he emitted, using it as encouragement to go faster. He was thick and made your jaw slightly ache, but he had yet to completely harden. You used the saliva that leaked through the corners of your mouth as a lubricant to jerk off what you couldn't get.

You softly moaned at the taste of his precum, the vibrations of your voice making his cock twitch. You hollowed your cheeks over the tip to gather more of it, but quickly dipped your head back down. You repeated the cycle a few more times until Zhongli deemed himself wanting more.

You looked up at him through your lashes when you noticed his arm rising toward your hair. The weight of his hand could have been mistaken as comforting if it weren't for the fact that his fingers tightly curled around your hair. You could feel your chest buzzing. It was a mix of anticipation, fear, and excitement.

You gagged when he pushed your head down, forcing you to swallow more of his cock. You instinctively tried to pull away, chest beginning to strain from your gags and the sudden lack of air. No matter how much you seemed to persist, it felt as if your strength was nothing compared to his.

You quickly realized this, and made yourself relax as much as you could. It was exhilarating to let him have his way with you, using your mouth without any regard toward your own comfort. You snaked a hand across your neck and lightly squeezed, cock throbbing within the confines of your pants when he let out a groan.

"This is what you're good at, isn't it?" His voice sounded strained. "Is this your way of raising your other grades? Letting your teachers use your mouth as they see fit?"

Of course not! You made a few sounds (though you mostly choked and gagged) in an attempt to reply. A mildly annoyed expression crossed over his face.

"You still don't know how to be quiet even when you're sucking my cock?" He pushed your head down as far as possible, your nose pressing against his pelvis. He held you there until your chest began to burn, desperate for air. The black spots that collected in the corners of your vision faded with each deep inhale. The tip of his cock rested on your tongue, though you sealed your lips around it every so often to swallow his precum.

You could feel him throb rhythmically when you held him in your hand again to lightly tap the head on your tongue. You peered up at his flushed face with a slight grin, and he had the mind to shove you back down. You began to jerk him off fervently as a heat swelled in his abdomen.

He tightly gripped the armrests of his chair and held himself back from thrusting into your fist. The flame of ecstasy intensified further and further until it finally enveloped him completely, hips lightly jutting upwards as cum spurted from his cock. He let out a long, deep groan as he tossed his head back.

You moved back over him to gather his cum in your mouth, gently using your tongue to help him prolong his orgasm and coax out more of his semen. It wasn't until he began to tug you off of him did you back away, licking cum off of your fingers.

You were briefly aware of the ache in your knees as you stared up at him expectantly, which prompted an eyebrow raise from him.

"What?"

"What about me?" You frowned. You couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together in hopes of stimulation.

"You don't deserve it," he said. He internally smiled at your expression. "Especially not after your test score."

He shifted, trying to stand up to fix his appearance when you held onto his leg. His amber eyes met yours so full of ill-concealed desperation.

"Wait-!" You swallowed hard, surprised by your own need. "I-I'll do good next time. I promise! Just... just please let me cum. I'll take this class seriously."

"Tempting offer," he said, tilting his head in thought. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy treating you like this, but the main reason he was so irritated with you was because you refused to let him help you towards a better grade. He's not one to give up very easily, so he's willing to take your word for it just this once.

"Very well, then." He sat down on his chair and leaned back, pushing one of his legs towards you so his shoe pressed against your throbbing cock. You jolted at the sensation, completely underestimating just how horny you were. Electricity flowed through your body and left your skin feeling tingly and hot.

You felt like you could burst right then and there as you quickly began rubbing your clothed dick against the hard material of his shoe. Oh how pitiful you looked, trying to pull him closer to you as you thrust harder.

"Look at you." He had an amused undertone in his voice. "Grinding against me so desperately. You're just like a mutt in heat, aren't you?"

You had no will to retort, simply focused on reaching your orgasm. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, nearly breaking skin. You were very sensitive from ignoring your own pleasure earlier, and you were sure you weren't going to last much longer.

You let out a strained whimper when he straightened his foot, rubbing you with enough force for it to slightly hurt. You mumbled out curses and pleas towards no-one in particular and steadily grew louder the closer you got to your peak.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..." You cut yourself off with a moan, trembling as the burning sensation of euphoria overcame your senses. Your hips jolted with each pulse of pleasure that ran through you.

With a shaky sigh, you fell back onto your ass and steadily regained your breath. Good lord, that took more out of you than you thought. You grimaced when the patch of your cum slowly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable sticky sensation that you were going to have to walk home with.

You peered up at Zhongli when he spoke, "I expect you to abide by your promise. I do not want to see any more F's in the immediate future."

You wearily nodded. "Yes, sir."

He studied you for a moment longer. "You seem to be driven at the thought of an orgasm."

Now, that caught your attention. You refocused and nearly broke out into an excited smile when he continued.

"Maybe if you pass the next test with a B or higher, I'll reward you."

[meguwumibear]

angsty toge writing warm up

"I'm the only one left you know," Toge tells you, slumping down next to your exhausted form. "From my clan, I mean. The higher ups think the technique is dangerous and have outlawed it. Those who inherit it anyway, well..."

This is the most he's spoken in years. The words don't feel right on his tongue. They take up too much space. He has to think real hard to force them out.

"That's awful," you say, rolling onto your side to get a better look at him.

The two of you were dispatched hours ago to deal with a second grade cursed spirit. The assignment wasn't supposed to take very long, but it seems jujutsu society is struggling to understand curse ranking these days. The curse may have appeared weak, but it's technique was anything but. Somehow, someway, it had nullified your own.

Toge noticed first after his command to explode went unheeded. His purple eyes widened in surprise as the curse continued its attack as if he had said nothing at all.

With no cursed technique to rely on, the exorcism took a few grueling hours. You took turns brawling with the monster while the other attempted to poor their limited cursed energy into a tool. You're both a bloody mess by the time the curse finally fades away.

The curses death did not return either of your techniques to you.

"How long do you think it'll take for our techniques to return?"

There's a nasty gash on Toge's forehead, right above his left eye. The curse was strong and had sharp, pointy claws. Toge wasn't able to dodge all of its attacks in time.

The sorcerer is flat on his back, staring up at the starless sky. The light pollution from the nearby city blocks out even the moon's light.

"Don't know," he shrugs. "Maybe never."

There's a sad little smile on his lips when he replies. He doesn't roll to meet you as if he's worried looking you in the eyes will allow you to see past them into the crevices of his brain.

"Would it be so bad if they never came back?"

"Dunno," you shrug. "I don't feel particularly attached to mine. I think I'd miss the school though. And Yuuta and Maki."

Slim fingers pick anxiously at overgrown blades of grass, "you could probably stay on if you wanted. Used cursed tools like Maki. I'm sure they'd even give you glasses if you needed them."

What goes unsaid is louder than what does.

"You wouldn't stay? Even knowing what you do?"

He doesn't respond right away. It's been some time since he's had to communicate more than a greeting or affirmation. His thoughts have spent so much time stuck in his own head, they aren't sure how to come out.

"It would be hard to leave."

It's getting late. The two of you were due back hours ago. The starless sky is vast but your time on Earth is short.

"Let's go," Toge says and instantly regrets. He hadn't felt his technique return but the way you jolt forward confirms it's back. It isn't one of his usual commands. He didn't even realize he'd put any cursed energy into the words.

How could he be so careless? He knows better.

"Mustard leaf," he manages, turning from you. "Cavier."

"Toge," you try, reaching out to grab him. "I'm not hurt. I know you didn't mean it. It's alright."

He doesn't let you touch him. He doesn't want your comfort or sympathy. There's no point. Your techniques have returned which means you can both go back to your training and exorcising.

Would it be so bad if they never came back?

For society maybe, but not for him.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Mmmm, happy Detrans December everyone! I am so excited I won the latest tag war, sorry Kara, better luck next year.... Or maybe you can join in with me and we can have ourselves another healthy competition? Just dm me if that sounds like fun, or do you just wanna jerk it to me going through male puberty and losing my gorgeous boobies? Either way....

Ever since I first found this tag I was so turned on by the idea. I started transitioning in like the sixth grade and I'm 20 now, so I've had no shortage of people try and detrans me already. Every single time it makes me rock hard. Always a new doctor, or boss, or some coworker that finds out. They start exclusively calling me by male pronouns and tell me how great I'd look if I detransitioned, that I'm already mostly a guy anyway, that I don't pass very well, and they always say me 'moobs' look ridiculous and I have to feel really embarrassed going out looking like this.....

I know it's just people being bigoted creeps, but every time it happens it turns me on so much. I have to run home and jerk off. You wanna know a secret? One of these pervy transphobes was a doctor I had a couple years back who put me on penile growth meds, despite me being on estrogen and progestrone. He said growing a 'fat cock' will make me realize I'm supposed to be male. I..... can't say he was wrong. He kept me on it for six months, and I had to find a new doctor when he outright prescribed me T, but I did fill my first script and have it waiting and ready to go. ❤️ I never post bikini pics or anything tight because my cock is already about a foot long and really thick. My balls are the size of plums! They make it kind of hard to sit sometimes. I bet if I went off my estrogen for just a day my body would be totally flooded with T from these things. Unsurprisingly I jerk off a lot, like a regular guy, I love having such a big fat cock. How could I ever pretend I'm a girl? I'm so silly......

So, as soon as I discovered Detrans December I looked up all the vids and whatnot and got totally addicted to all the pretty girls shooting up T and losing their girly bodies.... So the second I started getting tagged, you legit could not pull me away from my computer, I was scrolling through your tags and comments for hours a day, jerking off like a good boy.... Mmmm, I'm going to love finally taking T, although I love getting fucked too much to say I'll wind up as one of these straight gym dudes you see trans girls turn into.... Hey, Kara, you only live a couple hours away. What if we both became femboys.... dressed all girly, you have a big cock you were forced to grow, to.... I want our cocks so big they're impractical for fucking, they'll be way too fat.... They'll be perfect for our fans and random guys we meet at the club to abuse and smack around, same with our oversized testicles.... Won't that be so much fun? A couple of flat chested boys finally going through male puberty, hung like horses, just begging for our guy parts to be mistreated. I think we'd have loads of fun together, don't you? Oooo, we can even get top surgery together! I can't wait to lose these silly, fat boobs, and I know you can't wait to lose those ridiculous looking JJ-Cup boobs of yours..... I bet you're jerking off watching me say all this, aren't you? Good boy, now cum. ❤️"

[anotheroceanid]

Deleted Scene from Chapter 4

Because I don't think I'll manage to finish chapter five for this weekend, so at least I'll post something. It was meant to take place between one of Percy's interaction with Medea, it's a flashback from when she met Circe in the events of SoM.

I might use it in a different chapter, or rewrite it, btw, enjoy lol

Percy had met her aunt a few years ago… Not, not a few. Thirteen at the time, freshly out of seventh grade. Not much older than her sons, an impressionable child still lost in the new world she had been thrown at, to whom Circe had offered a place. A safe place, far from gods, far from danger.

Circe spoke of things Percy would much later comprehend. More than often, Percy caught herself thinking about each of them.

Percy knew, even at an early age, which being part of the hunt wouldn’t have worked for her. She either would fumble that bad, or someone would fumble it for her. She never felt any call to it, unless she considered the all-consuming terror the war struck her with. However… What would’ve been of her life, and the world, had she accepted to stay in Aeaea with Circe? 

‘You and your friend, ‘The sorceress had said, a voice so soothing that it silenced all the “Danger" alarms beeping inside her head, ‘both of you have a natural inclination for magic. I might be biassed, but there is something about those whose line comes from the sea.’

With the little discernment her brain managed to do against Circe's voice, Percy frowned, ‘Annabeth is a daughter of Athena.’ 

Circe giggled as if she had been delighted by a baby’s first world.

‘She is, indeed.’ Circe agreed, fixing the golden stephane in Percy’s hair, amusedly tilting her head to the side, as if she had seen something curious. ‘My aunt Metis, her grandmother, was rather tricky.’

‘Your aunt?’ Percy echoed, widening her eyes as she turned from the mirror to stare directly at Circe's face, with wonder on her eyes. She scanned through the woman's face, looking for anything that her best friend might've shared with her. ‘You are Annabeth's cousin.’

‘Aren't we all, in a way?’ Circe used her hands to kindly turn Percy toward the mirror again, where she stared at a much more gracious girl than herself. Some pleased entity inside of Percy smiled at the sight; the girl in the mirror was gorgeous. The more Percy looked at that girl, the more she liked her. 

Circe had dressed her in a soft linen dress, embroidered with golden motifs across the blue fabric, making Percy’s thirteen years old self feel like she was in Disneyland having a princess makeover. Just better. She had never worn something so nice, and usually thought herself not made for vanity. 

Percy thought of Silena Beauregard, the Aphrodite girl who was nice to everyone, and who recently decided she wanted to befriend Percy and ever since has been trying to dress her up. Looking at that girl in the mirror, whose lashes fluttered every time she blinked, Percy wondered if it wouldn't be nice to look like that all the time. 

In a spoken lullaby, Circe kept talking, ‘My mother, Perseis, married Helios, her cousin. They had me, my sister Pasiphae, and our younger brothers, Aeetes and Perses. Pasiphae married Zeus’ son, Minos, and I suppose you know how the story went.’

Percy's face got red like a boiled tomato. ‘The Minotaur is your nephew?’ The Minotaur is Annabeth's cousin? Was an equally urgent question hanging on her mind. 

‘We are all cousins.’ Circe repeated, brushing a lock of Percy's hair. ‘I shall not hold it against you, I tend to stand by my fellow females, so I couldn't care less about what you did to him. I did dislike that brother of yours, though. A matter of principles.’ As she spoke, Percy noticed the guinea pigs getting anxious in their cage. Staring at them, she blinked a few times. ‘Don't look at them.’

For some reason, before Percy could rationalise the words, her neck had already moved, and she looked into the mirror again. She smiled at the pretty girl, with the golden skin, liquorice curls and sea green eyes. She was so pretty, like the girls in Aphrodite’s cabin. Percy wanted so much to be that girl; she didn't seem to have any problem at all going on in her life.

Then, she frowned again. ‘But Athena was born from Zeus's head.’

A glimpse of madness crossed Circe's green eyes, and Percy only recognised it because she had seen it before. In herself. A cold ran down her spine. She looked at the girl, straight into her eyes, and suddenly she was afraid of all that beauty. Still, she couldn't stop gazing at her.

‘Indeed.’ Circe hummed as she regained her composure. ‘There was this prophecy, a prophecy that said a son of Metis would do to Zeus what Zeus did to his own father. So, before his son could embrace his prophecy, Zeus embraced the wickedness he inherited from the Crooked One. He swallowed my aunt Metis, who was already pregnant. That's, sweetie, is how Athena came to be.’

Percy remained in silence for a second, not sure about what to think. She wasn't new to the gods being cruel, but…She thought that they were at least above cannibalism. Wasn't that the reason Tantalus got punished in the first place?

‘There is nothing the gods fear more than the possibility of ending up like the titans.’ Circe spoke, rather darkly, sending a cold down Percy's spine. Circe's finger caressed the curve of Percy's cheek, and she couldn't help but notice how inhumanly sharp those were. Like talons. Then, she brought both hands to Percy's uncovered shoulders and almost dug those nails in the flesh. ‘The day will come, it's been promised, that someone will come. The children of Kronos have always been destined to whiter.’

Percy remained silent for a second, then grit her teeth as if that had been a particular offence against her. ‘My father is a child of Kronos.’

‘He is, do you worry?’

‘He’s my dad.’ Percy wanted to scream, but her voice felt so tame and melodic, almost like Circe's. The sorceress smiled and Percy swallowed hard. ‘I think I should go after Annabeth, I…’ Again, that was too sweet to be Percy's voice.

‘Nice try, but not quite enough.’ Circe mumbled, ‘Listed to the wisdom of someone who had parents who'd tear down the world for her: you'd be better off without him. And your friend? I've seen how Athena turns against her favourites. She is the goddess of wisdom, and her greatest wisdom so far is knowing her father will love her much more as a mirror of himself. She bears his pride like a crown. Do you want to become like her? A mirror your father can look into to stroke his ego?’ Percy opened her lips to answer, but Circe was faster than her, ‘In that camp, you're both mere tools. Here, I can bring the better out of two thriving girls. Stay here, with me. You have the two things that wake the worst in the gods. Think of Helen of Sparta, the power she had, all she could've been…’

Percy remained silent and for a moment allowed herself to indulge with the fantasy of living on that island for the rest of her days, feeling as beautiful and special as she did in that moment. However, how could that be correct? 

‘I'm just me…’ She mumbled, ‘And I have my mom, I cannot just abandon her.’

‘Your mom won't live forever, Percy Jackson.’ Circe caressed Percy's curls and then her cheeks, in an almost maternal way. Percy didn't like that; she already had a mom.

Petulant, she snapped, ‘She'll probably live longer than me.’

Circe's eyes turned sad. ‘We, daughters, can’t help but dream about it… Think about it, Percy. Look in the mirror, feel the storm in the tip of your fingers. You're flicking a glimpse of who you'll be. Trust me you don't want to flourish in display for the gods to see, do you?’

The guinea pigs screamed, and Percy turned again to them, trying to remember something that had been hazed by Circe's presence. Something that Chiron had said. Strangely, something extremely specific about pigs. ‘I…’

‘They'll waste all your potential.’ She argued, now rather passionately. ‘Glory is a prize awarded to boys… Hercules, Dionysus, Asclepius. I do not offer you glory; I offer you freedom you'll never know otherwise. Let gods and titans feast on themselves. Don't be their pawn. Live up to your name, Persephone.’

Percy never knew what she would've answered, for a second later Annabeth had stormed into that room and the next thing Percy knows is that she is stealing a pirate's ship.

[waywardangel-wilds]

Prompt Suggestion by @triassictriserratops:

Peeta sees Katniss in a baking apron for the first time and loses his SHIT. 13 year old Peeta is screaming inside him. He has to, like, sit in the walk-in for a bit. Do some breathing exercises. This is BEFORE "so after" so the pining is still PEAK.

"Okay, so I think we still need to do something about the sign, so ignore the logo." Peeta was saying as he unlocked the door. "But other than that, I think this is it. I think I'm happy about the colors."

Katniss smiled at him but didn't say anything, following him into the newly built bakery. His nervous energy took up physical space, like an additional person standing with them in the room. He watched her head towards the front windows, smiling at him with that heart-stopping gaze when she caught his eye.

"It's perfect," she reassured him.

"You really think so?" He scrubbed a hand against his curls. "Because you can tell me, we have time to fix any issues."

She shook her head. "Where do you want me?"

His mind briefly jumped into the gutter before he pushed the thought away, "Uh-- here's fine. The paint is right there." He pointed towards the other side of the room. "Oh! I got you something." He turned, jogging towards the kitchen doors. "So you don't mess up your clothes!"

"Oh, that's okay-" she started, but he'd already returned with an apron in hand. She took it, looking at him with an indulgent light in her eye.

"So what are we doing, boss?" she asked.

"I was thinking we could do the strip of color all along the bottom; the rest we paint white." He bent over to pick up a paint can while Katniss wound up her braid into a bun. "What d'you think?"

"It's your bakery, Peeta."

He looked up at her, a sincere look to him. "But- I mean, it's kind of ours... right?" He yanked at the lid of the paint can a little too roughly with his flathead.

"Um, yeah." Katniss fumbled with her apron strings, and her face suddenly became very warm. "Yeah. Ha. Um, so, is it Mellark's and Everdeen now? Or Mellark's and co.? I don't think your sign is big enough for either."

"Whichever, if you want, I'll make it work." He replied.

Katniss giggled a little strangely. She wasn't the type to giggle. She cleared her throat. "Uh, no, I'm just joking."

"Oh, okay." Peeta poured some of the paint out onto the pan. "Well, it's our bakery, you helped me build it, so." He shrugged. "Free bread for you."

Katniss smiled down at the back of his head. "Even the Danishes?"

"Especially the Danishes." Peeta looked back up at her with a cheeky smile. His eyes rolled downwards, settling somewhere along her waist. "I mean, uh, who else gives me free berries? It's only fair."

Katniss bent at the waist to pick up a paintbrush and Peeta audibly gulped. "If you say so."

"Mmhmm," Peeta said mindlessly, so very grateful Katniss had those stretchy pants. So eternally happy she was wearing them. So worried about the state of his own pants. "Um, would you give me a minute? I think I left something in the kitchen."

Katniss looked at him over her shoulder, her paintbrush dripping blue paint onto the floor. "Okay."

Peeta leaped to his feet, and in four quick strides, he was in the kitchen, leaning against the cool door on the still non-operational walk-in fridge. Deep breaths.

He felt insane. He hadn't been this horny for Katniss since he was thirteen. But lately, everything she did, anything she said, it just got him going. He was back to furiously rubbing one out in the bathroom like he used to when they had gym together in eighth grade. She probably thought he had constant diarrhea or something equally disgusting.

But, God, she was so beautiful. How was he supposed to just behave when she was standing there with that apron tied tight around her waist? Her hair, up in a bun, so he could look down her shirt? Wearing yoga pants so he could see her perfect ass?

He put his face to his hands, lightly slapping himself to calm down. Haymitch, dead puppies, Haymitch, dead puppies. He repeated his non-sexy thoughts mantra to himself, trying to get the image of Katniss's full lips out of his head. She would look so good kneeling in front of him with his--

DEAD PUPPIES!

"Peeta?" Katniss pushed the kitchen door open and looked at him with concern. "Are you okay? Episode?"

The guilt was crazy. He shook his head, "I'm okay."

"You're clearly not." She stepped forward, one of her hands settling on his shoulder, and the other pushing his away from his face. "Hey, what's going on?"

He shook his head. Thank god she hadn't noticed the tent in his pants. "I'm fine. So fine!" his voice sounded strained, even to himself.

Katniss's dark eyebrows came together. She wasn't buying it. Had he mentioned that he loved it when she frowned at him? He had a recurring fantasy of Katniss in a tight skirt suit, frowning at him from a tall desk, and telling him he'd have to do extra credit for his terrible math homework.

"If you say so," she conceded, taking a step away from him. When he didn't start following her, she looked back at him again. "Come. now."

Oh fuck. She was so damn clueless.

[morally-grey-variant]

love is a dagger [loki x oc] [part three]

loki x oc

part three

[master post]

Setting: Agent Grey Forrest can’t quite reconcile her alliance with Loki. After six months of regular hand-to-hand combat and close-weapons training, they’re not quite friends but can’t exactly stay away from each other. Everything changes the day Loki accidentally stabs Grey during a training exercise.

Summary(3): Loki bares his teeth. Grey bears the weight of his guilt. Wolves are not born cruel; they lash out when danger is thrust upon them. All monsters deserve love – even if all they have known is fear. (wc 3.1k)

Warnings: Later episodes feature dark & explicit themes -- Minors DNI. Freshly stitched-up wounds, pain, implied self-harm themes (no descriptions or direct references), general angst, swearing, inferences of past trauma, non-explicit nudity (if I've missed something please let me know!)

Showering is a kind of bliss and torture in and of itself. The stitches pull as I lift my hands above my head to release my ponytail. Scrubbing shampoo into my long, dark hair means I'm forced to curl into myself and tuck my elbows into my sides. This won’t heal quickly, and I'm going to have to learn to work around it. Might as well start now.

Soap slides down my torso and over the puckered seam; I tip my head back in a silent scream, the sharp sting paralyzing my entire body. 

Some tough agent I am. 

But the scalding hot water on my scalp, scrubbing dried blood off my face and hands and everywhere, is enough to make it worth it. When I finally step out of the bathroom, a trail of lilac-scented steam in my wake, Loki is still there. Waiting for me. 

I wish I'd picked cuter pajamas. Comfort eclipsed cuteness, though, and my old gray t-shirt and loose flannel pajama pants are as much as I could manage after the painful effort of shimmying into a loose green bralette. My hair clings to the back of my tee, leaving a big wet patch.

Leaning back in my desk chair, Loki stares deeply into the middle distance. He's somewhere far away, deep in thought as he clenches the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles are white.

“That's my only chair,” I say. “If you break it, I don't think they'll give me another.” 

He eases his grip. His gaze loosens, and those green eyes drift to me, considering each piece of my pajamas. “Did you re-dress your … wound?”

I shake my head. “And I don't suppose you'd know how to wrap hair in a towel.” I sigh, sinking onto the edge of my mattress. Leaning forward, I dab my white bath towel against my dark, wavy locks in dismay. 

Towel bunched up in my lap, I close my eyes and let my head fall into my lap with a small groan. The pain is absolutely killing me now. I shouldn't have gotten the stitches wet in the shower, soap drips notwithstanding, but there's no way I could've gotten into bed without washing up first. Wiping myself down with a wet washcloth wouldn't have worked, either – too much reaching and straining. 

I focus on taking deep, calming breaths, the counselor’s words echoing in my head. Square breathing, just like music class in grade school – breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold. 

Deep breaths stretch out my ribcage. Another involuntary groan slips out. Fuck.

“Grey.”

Loki sounds closer, and I’d like to think I’d forgotten his presence in my self-indulgent suffering, but there’s no way I could ignore the way his presence fills up my tiny bedroom. I hum a noncommittal response. I want to lift my head to look at him, but my head might as well weigh a hundred pounds.

There's a tug against the towel, and Loki pulls it out of my lap. Gingerly, he drapes it over the back of my neck, letting it fall forward over my hair. He gathers it up in front, and with a subtle twist, wraps the towel around my hair and tucks it back behind my head. 

“Woah,” I laugh softly, finally letting my head lift. “How–”

One side of Loki's mouth turns up in a thin-lipped grin of acquiescence. “Thor,” he explains simply, his smirk deepening as some memory floats to the surface. “If you tell anyone, he'll have my head for it.”

I can't help but laugh. Loki is warm and familiar when he wants to be, like a reluctant housecat. I'm overcome with an urge to wrap my arms around him and drink in all that dark warmth. 

The laugh rubs my shirt against the wound, and I flinch. 

Loki's face drops. It cracks me open from the inside. 

“I'm fine, Loki,” I say, forcing myself not to curl an arm around my torso. “Really. It'll probably scar, but it's not that bad. I'm fine.”

He shoves the chair back with a flick of his wrists, suddenly towering over me. “It’s not fine.” Loki's eyes darken, his brow creasing. The chair rattles backwards on an unsteady wheel and bangs against the side of the desk. A chill sweeps over me. “Stop saying you're fine, Grey. I think you've forgotten that I stabbed you today. You're not fucking fine.”

“Don't break my fucking chair if you're having a tantrum,” I frown, though I don't bother standing. I won’t fight with him. “You didn't stab me, idiot. It was a training exercise. I didn't get out of the way fast enough. If you'd stabbed me, I'd be in a drawer underneath the hospital by now.”

His eyes flash knowingly before he whips around, practically stomping away from me. He can't go far in the tiny room, and his march to the window would almost be comical if it didn't fucking kill me to see him this upset. I wouldn't treat the god with kid gloves, though. He could handle my anger.

One arm braces above his head as he leans against the full-length window, staring out at the darkening landscape below. The half-moon reflects onto his pale, brooding face. His hood bunches up around his shoulders, pushing his dark curls forward from where he's tucked them behind his ears. He's trying to calm down, too.

“You're exactly right, you know.”

Something in his tone sends a shard of ice through my chest. He doesn't break his stare, watching the world spread below us, though I know he's not really seeing anything. 

“I'm ending your training.” He continues coldly, his voice flat and businesslike. As if he's ordering coffee. “This has gone far enough.”

“Loki–” I protest, pinching the skin on the back of my arm. “That's not fair. I have a say in this, too. I'm not going off to war. We're sparring in a padded room. No one else will train with me–”

He whips around, face contorted in horrifyingly inhuman fury. His hands ball up into fists at his sides. “Do you know the last agent I fucking stabbed, Grey?” He seethes through clenched teeth. A muscle in his jaw flexes, twitching up through his temple. “I killed Phil Coulson. Stabbed him in the fucking back.” 

His eyes glaze over, the whites now run through with pinkish-red. He spits his admission through his teeth like a snake spitting venom. The things that haunt him in the middle of the night, that he wishes he could bury deep and let them rot in his heart forever. But they forever lurk just beneath the surface. When he looks at me, he sees Coulson.

“I know, Loki. I’m not afraid of you.” 

SHIELD agents learn about Loki the moment they ask to work directly with the Avengers. We learn about all the Avengers, sure – Cap's brave sacrifice, Tony's arrogant but self-sacrificing genius, Thor's god-like might – but they’re obsessed with Loki. The training videos have something of a “keep your enemies closer” vibe that would make you think he's some bloodthirsty supervillain. Loki murdered Agent Coulson in cold blood. Loki tried to conquer Earth to spite his brother. Loki lies and cheats and stabs people in the back.

Well, he only stabbed me in the front.

“I'm not afraid of you.” My voice is even and calm. “Sit down, Loki.”

He doesn't move a muscle. If I didn't know better, I'd think he wanted to slap me. 

“Coulson's alive,” I continue, shrugging with all the nonchalance I can muster. “And you can't end our training. You don't just get to decide things for me.”

“Coulson is alive by chance,” Loki counters quickly. He's lost some of his fire, though. His muscles relax slightly, even if he's still obviously on edge. “And I do get to decide for you when you're putting yourself in danger.”

Now it's my turn to get angry. His words stoke the little ember that ceaselessly burns in my chest. I get to decide for you. 

“Why do you care if I put myself in danger?” I shout, ignoring the way my ragged heart chafes in my chest. 

“Because I care about you, you fumbling imbecile!” Loki shouts back, palms spread wide, face contorted in wretched agony. “I had to sit here and listen to your agony while you did something as simple as shower, knowing I am the cause of that pain. For weeks – likely for months – I will be forced to watch you suffer from afar because of my mistake.” The words pour out of him, uncontrolled and unfiltered. “Day after day, I'm subjected to loathsome glares and rightfully placed suspicion. I know quite well who I am, Grey. The God of Mischief; the Prince of Lies. An arbiter of human misery.

“I found the only soul whose face doesn't contort with hatred when they see me, and I sank a dagger into her chest.”

Loki's chest falls. His entire body slumps forward under the weight of his admission. He tugs his hands through his curls again, twisting away from me. “I must go,” he finishes, his words clipped. He hastens past me.

I snag the loose fabric of his sweatshirt as he tries to walk past me towards the door. “Don't you dare.”

He freezes mid-step. He obeys, though his head is still turned away from mine. My hand curls into the fabric with a tight fist; the weight of such a grip that might bring him to his knees. 

“Don't you dare, Loki,” I repeat, still looking up at him though he won't meet my gaze. “Running away won't fix this.”

His chest shudders with a ragged breath.

“You want to drown in self-pity just because you made a mistake? Learn the difference between accidents and purposeful attacks, you fumbling imbecile.” I can't help but grin a little as I echo his frustrated insult. “If you leave now, not only am I going to have to deal with this on my own, but it's going to fucking hurt when I re-wrap this stupid thing. I earned this, so I get to deal with it on my own terms.”

I earned this. I deserve this.

He finally looks down at me. Red-rimmed green eyes leak small tracks of tears down his cheeks. That shatters the cracked thing inside my chest. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and help take care of me,” I continue, clinging to his shirt and forcing my voice not to crack.

I chose to ally myself with the villain. The man – the god – no one else will even go near.

“Stark will be furious if you forgive me.” Loki smirks down at me through his tears. 

I earned this, because this is exactly what I deserve. Loki doesn’t get to decide who suffers and who grieves. He isn’t the only kicked dog here.

“Good. Maybe some disobedience will humble him.”

Loki rolls his eyes as he finally shifts, taking a step back and lowering himself to sit beside me on the edge of the mattress. “Humility is not a concept he recognizes, I'm afraid.” 

The fallout from this will cause an avalanche. I wince as a mountain of potential consequences piles up in my mind. Faces flash through my mind as I picture just a few people who will need more than a little convincing that this accident was, indeed, an accident. Natasha. Nick Fury. Tony Stark. Thor. Natasha. Agent Coulson. Cap. Natasha. But for now, there are no consequences. As long as I can keep him safe in here with me, tucked away like a secret deep in my heart, we’re a universe of two.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” Loki’s voice is gentler now. He's not crying – I doubt more than a few tears actually fell to begin with – but his demeanor softens considerably, even though he still seems on edge. Loki is more than a mere secret. He’s an earth-shattering whisper passed beneath hastened breaths. Deceptively silent. Taking up far less room than he deserves.

I care about you. 

The words echo again. What exactly does that mean, though? A lingering hand on my thigh during training; his head cupping my face while the doctor stitched me up.

Loki isn't a villain.

“I’m imagining everyone I'm going to have to explain this to when I can't report for duty tomorrow,” I concede, shrugging. The small movement draws out another involuntary hiss of pain.

I deserve this.

“You didn't bandage it after your shower?” 

I shake my head. “Too much… stretching. Getting dressed was hard enough.” I deserve this.

Loki pushes himself off the mattress, reaching to grab the bandages sent home from the medical wing. “Let me help you.” 

My face goes bright red. Fuck. In my proud insistence that Loki stay to atone for his mistake, I forgot that helping me might mean… this again. I tug up the bottom hem of my t-shirt, exposing the wound to the air. Loki furrows his brow, glancing between my face and the stitched-up gash. “You should've let me do this right away.” 

Oh, god. It's redder than ever, the skin puckered and inflamed around the black stitches. The shower and friction against my shirt have irritated it like crazy. I can feel my pulse in the bright red, raw edges.

I deserve this.

Loki gingerly lays gauze over the redness. The tips of his fingers brush against the skin just beneath it. My whole body shivers. He glances up, his face only inches from mine, before returning his diligent attention to his work. “Your hand is freezing,” I say quietly, hiding my embarrassment poorly. His hands are cold, but when his fingers brushed my bare skin...

“Sorry,” he mutters. A dark curl falls over his face as he holds one end of the long bandage roll over the gauze. The hem of my shirt slips from my fingertips, falling over the wound. “Hold still, darling.”

I barely fight the shiver that word sends through me. “Sorry,” I echo, barely breathing.

“Grey, are you… will you be… decent?” He stumbles around “are your tits out” as I nod hurriedly, though I instinctively pull my arms around my chest again. “I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to remove your shirt again.” I swear to God that he's smirking just slightly as he says it, avoiding eye contact with me the whole time.

“Of course,” I answer, painting my pinched voice with as much sarcasm as I can muster. Because this is a joke, right? It has to be a joke. “I managed to get a bra on after the shower… just in case, I guess.”

Loki frowns again. “That explains much of your miserable whimpering.” 

Oh. I didn't realize I'd been that loud.

“Just hold still,” he continues, brushing a hand against my waist. “Hold your arms up like earlier – yes, that's it,” he murmurs, tugging my shirt up and over my head. I'm sure every inch of my body has to be flushed pink by now. Not because I want him taking my clothes off. Absolutely not. No way. 

The little monster in the back of my head grins wickedly. Because you absolutely fucking do.

I tip my head back, unable to keep watching. That only makes it worse. Now I can feel him with alarming clarity, every nerve in my body focused on his tender touches. I'm blindingly aware of my thin, forest-green bralette – some soft cotton thing that I picked because of the color name, and not because I've come to love the color green – as it clings to my skin, delicately cupping my small breasts.

“I'm sorry if I'm hurting you,” Loki continues in a low, clenched voice. “I'll be done in a moment.”

“It doesn't hurt,” I breathe, trying to stay as still as possible. The bandage – and his arm – loop around me, wrapping completely around my torso until he can grip the other side.

He encircles me with his arms. I can’t breathe. 

Two long fingers press into my side, holding the cloth in place; I tip my head back, overwhelmed by the intimacy. His hands brush against my skin with every circle his hands make around my torso. 

Surely he can hear my heart thundering against the inside of my ribs. It threatens to rip through my stitches and burst out through that fresh opening. Loki’s fumbled slice weakened the dam; if I’m not careful, I’ll pour out through the torn seams. A lifetime of painstaking restraint wells up behind a crumbling levee. 

“All right.”

I tilt my head down. He's checking his handiwork, eyes downcast. Dark curls tumble forward as his head leans down, falling loose from their usual careful slicked-back style. I imagine myself brushing those curls back from his forehead, lifting his face to look at me, demanding he tell me exactly what he’s thinking. But nothing about my allyship with Loki has ever been so straightforward.

His impossibly broad left hand lightly rests against my right side, his long fingers stretched wide across my torso.

He lifts his eyes. The slight red remnants of his earlier outburst are fading, and the soulful eyes piercing my heart are so dark and ancient that I’m frozen in place. Some hint of a thought lingers on his slightly parted lips.

His dark eyebrows arch upward slightly; curiously. 

My jaw softens, my comment or quip long forgotten. He notices, and his gaze drops to my jaw. No; to my lips. Oh.

Loki tips his head forward, brushing his lips against mine. He’s soft and hesitant, achingly restrained. Cautious.

I catch his lower lip between my own, pushing into him. He hums contentedly. The sound rumbles deep in his chest. Oh.

He slides his hand down to brace against my back, pulling me forward ever so slightly. Cupping my jaw, his long fingers sliding into my hair and beneath my ear and I’m lighting up at every touch. I relax into him, his cool fingers perfect against my flushed skin. I wrap my arms around his neck and wind my fingers into his curls. They're exactly as soft as I imagined they would be.

I've wanted this for longer than I would admit to myself. I've wanted Loki for months, wondered how his hands would feel and his lips would taste and his hair would twist between my fingers. Every aching hour spent sparring with steel and fists and sharp words and barbed grins, my wolf among the woods, the predator sharpening his prey. 

My broken boy who burns the world just to spite the ashes. 

If Loki is a monster, then let us be monsters together.

[solluve]

luxiem school drabbles!!

I was vv busy due to exams and test huhuu, I still have a upcoming final exam

noctyx ver coming out soon !!!

modern school au but you lowkey have a rivalry in most of them!!!I HATE SCHOOL

warning; kissing/ mentions (belehg) long passage be warned, lowkey bad ass writing lmfao IM EMBARSSED

not proofread (yet) ────────────────────────

vox

You were terribly annoyed, you had every right to be! Once again, the embodiment of the devil had beaten you again for test scores, and he was shoving it right in your face.

"Really? A 85% y/n? Cmon, I seriously thought you could do better." His voice boomed in the hallways, you didn't even know why he had decided to follow you outside the classroom. Whatever goes on in the classroom, is suppose to stay. You had just hoped that the sea of people who block his view of you.

How did he even manage to get a higher grade than you? From what you knew, he'd simply just lean on his chair during class and break the dress code with those hideous flip flops. He wasn't even a teachers favorite! In fact, all teachers hated him, but all students had loved him. He wasn't super athletic, but he was decent at almost any sport the school threw at him. He just probably did it all for the girls and boys to fawn over. Who knows, maybe even a student had given him am extra study lesson in exhange for quality time or sports advice.

His tall stature gave him the advantage in the hallways however, despite your constant twist and turns around students and diffrent hallways, his pursuit continued until you reached your locker.

A loud slam erupted from the impact of hand to metal, and your head had shot to your side. One hand on the locker supported his figure, and he stared at you menacingly with a smirk ingraved into his features. Oh how you'd pay to rip it right off.

"Are you done following me, stalker? You won, whatever." You sighed and started to fumble with the combination code to your locker. You didn't understand why you were even nervous, you had no fear for this man at all, you just wanted him gone.

"Stalker? how hurtful y/n! But Besides, I'm not done celebrating. Don't you think I deserve something for my first ever win?" He boasted, you could still see the crumbled up paper that represented his test score smashed agasint the locker.

"I have nothing to give besides my congratulations. Now shoo." You peered stadight into his crimson hues, he was clearly amused by your defensive behavior.

"Well, I guess I should just claim my victory reward then. Every treasure needs hard work anyways" he sighed, and quickly cupped your face with his hands, smashing his lips onto yours.

Your eyes had sprawled in shock, not once during it did your body relax, but you didn't complain either.

He pulled away playfully, a crescent smile was painted onto him, it looked so much better than that menacing smirk.

"I dont remember that being a part of the war?!"

"You don't even remeber the test answers. 85%."

like he smashed ur lips onto yours, you smashed your leg up his

okok I'll stfu

______

shu (love this mf too)

How could you even compete with this man?! If vox was the devil, he was the angel. He was top of your computer science class, and it didn't even look like he paid attention either. Did he join this class just to show off? Or is this some type of help-failing-students-in-computer-sceince program he was in. Your dear freind had failed that class until they got tutor by the magical man, and all of a sudden they improved gradually! We're all your lectures never enough for them?! You were already a decent student in the class, you turned about an assignment or two late every month, but that was just it! So why did he have to show up and "out do" you in anything with such a nice persona?! There was something up, you just knew it. There had to be something sinister and evil about this oh so perfect shu yamino. And it was your death wish to find out!

And the only way somebody would start such a difficult mission is to be with the man himself.

"Aha, Shu Yamino, may I please discuss something with you?" You had asked right when the bell had rung, Computer science was your last peroid, so you didn't think you'd be bothering him as much. He had given you a nod to continue as he began to shut off his computer and collect his stuff, you had gone completely silent until he fully turned towards you with a questioning look.

Honeslty up front he was better looking than you had thought. You never came to realize his highlights in his hair, or the way his middle part resembled a banana more than you had made it seem to be in your head, longer yet slightly thinning hair as it went down adorned his neck and landed at around his collarbone. A v shaped smile and bright purple orbs had just combined everything together. You need to get YOUR act together too.

With a quick throat clearing and straighting of posture, you had finally spoke to your secretly worse enemy;

"I'm. Having...Trouble..?" Was all you can manage to put out. You could've slapped yourself in that moment, now he probably thinks your having trouble trying to form a simple sentence as well. But in response, a breathy chuckle emitted out of his vocal chords

"Trouble? Sure, on what specific topic?" Aha! He bought it so easily! You didn't ever think the nerd would be so easy to manipulate— no like seriously. It's concerning how easy that was.

"I'm having trouble on Algorithm." You blurted, honestly that was one of the most simplest stuff ever, it was honestly a requirement to know that before you took the class. You just sorta blurted it out. He had bought everything you had said so far, but he'd probably now doubt you. He knew you were smart, and knew that you avoided him like the plague. This was too obvious, it's better to abort the mission by no—

"Sure, when are you free? I can do today if that's sounds well."

oh.

"Aha! Great, I can do it.. at the Cafe nearby Lake ave..does that sound well?" Shit. It took all of your willpower to compose yourself. That was terribly unexpected, so much so that you honestly regretted everything. All you had to do now was wait until your doom.

You even forgot what this was all for.

You waited at the exact spot your proposed the idea too. A nervous wreck. You had to remind yourself half way what you were here for.

'Find the bad side of shu yamino'. All you had to do was act terribly stupid! Surely he would snap at you, and you'd finally find out the truth.

But here you were, shu yamino ever so patient. You had done everything! You asked stupid questions, you have fumbled with your paper. You even had thought about going to far lengths like spilling the mysterious drink he bought. You wonder what it even was, it smelled awful. For some reason however, the man never stopped smiling and holding his calm persona. It was a facade, you knew it! All it would take it a final push to break it down, despite everything you knew your were close.

With one more stupid question of repetition, he sighed and put down his pencil. Fianlly, you had succeed—

"Give it up. I know you."

huh? "Did you really think I'd fall for this? I know that your a good student, I just played along with everything. Right when you came up to me I automatically knee what you were up to! But, I enjoyed this date of ours very much."

Wait, date?

You were bummed and embarssed he had caught you, but maybe it was for good. Maybe your mission was just to get closer to shu.

and maybe you could mark it as successful.

________

mysta

How annyoing,, it was terribly difficult to work with that man! You prided yourself in making sure nobody had broken hallway rules, you were never annyoing when correcting and reminding people, but you were when it came to him.

Mysta Rias was not only one the schools pranksters, but the "make-yn-have-the-worst-day-everinator!" He'd constantly run in the hallways, sometimes even using school property to swing himself around like a parkour course! Like your math teacher isn't going to give you extra points becuase you jumped off the water fountain at a 90° angle. Maybe you can use your poor math skills to find out the damage cost of that same fountain.

And there he went again in the middle of transition blocks, shouts of students in discomfort as he pushed past them in a mocking manner. This time for sure you would catch him, you just...also need to push past the sea of people. In a action of haste you also discarded the murmurs and other children's grunts as you rushed past everyone, and you held a firm grip upon the brunette.

Finally, You had caught the mf! Now at it was left was to drag him to the principles office and stop his stupid antics. However, a kid with green eyes stared back at you with fear.

Wrong fucking kid.

The sea of people had cast out into there classes, you held onto the kid in total shock. This was so embarrassing!! YOU GRABBED THE WRONG KID. YOU HAD ONE JOB OML

You heard a menacing irrating laughter behind you, and you new who it fucking belonged to.

"LMFAOO, you deadass thought I was that mf?! Who do you think I am?!" A fucking idiot tbh..

In a mfing FLASH you had grabbed mysta instead, dragging his ass into the direction of the princapls office. He had chuckled on the way there..until he had relized where your actually taking him.

The cocky,, arrogant persona quickly changed into one of desperation.

"Wait, you can't take me there! That will be like my what, 15th visit?! Hey cmon, I thought we were freinds, in fact, more than that!! You can't just betray me like this!!" He had scrambled out of your grip and stood right back up, quickly grabbing your shoulders and putting you in place.

"How 'bout this, if you don't take me there, I'll reward you with..a kiss!"

you gon be a enemy of the state if he keeps this up

_______

luca

Where do I start with the Jock of the school. Definition of, "Bronze but no Brains." Infact, you were probably his brains. You tutored him a lot, much to the jealousy of practically everyone in the school. It was a pain to tutor him, it was like training a dog on how to play card games. He constantly tried to change the subject, and he constantly had tried to get YOU to work out with him. You were never interested in physical activity, you much had rather secured your diploma using academic skills. You honestly thought it was all pointless, you had to be terribly good at the sport to get a diploma, it was honestly heart wrenching to see kids go through it.

But not Luca, Luca had such a postive attuide, it was like he wasn't educated on how the world and school had worked. He believe everyone could get anything. Which is a good way to think about stuff, but it's not good to apply it to everything you do.

Luca had always told you the same exact thing however. "Try the sport! I'm sure you'll be amazing at it!" And you had always told him the exact thing, "No thank you."

You had repeated the same thing every time until it was his Birthday. The 10 of April, right when the temp began to rise into spring bliss.

"Its fmy birthday wish! That's all I want from you. No presents, gift, cake, nothing!" He shouted from across the study room, in which you angrily placed your finger to your lip in a an act to shut him up, but he still persisted.

You need to also teach him that presents and gift are  basically the same thing.

"Just try one sport, I'll be your coach! We can do it after school when nobody else is here so you won't feel embarrassed to fianlly move your noodle arms around!"

What a backhanded mf.

You had a headache from his nonsense, to the point you mindlessly told him 'fine' just so you could have a moment to yourself to recover. You had completely forgotten about it, until he dragged you onto the field.

You were already out of breath from running there, now you had to actually play the sport?! You didn't even get a pick! He immediately chose football. He chucked a football towards you, in which you immediately ducked for cover.

You both knew this was going to be a terribly long day.

Minutes turned into minutes, hours into hours, you had completely lost track of everything. You laid on the field in exhaustion, as he joined you a couple minutes later— for some reason. You don't remeber inviting him.

"So! That was fun, yeah?" You had groaned in response, but you wouldn't lie to him, it was terribly fun for once.

"Whatever, my body is going to feel terribly sore tomorrow."

"I could kiss it to make it feel better!"

punch him he has cooties

_________

Ike

He was honestly perfect, and honestly the most sane out of everyone. He was at the top of his class, and had his fair share of sports and extra circular activities. He put teachers to shame with his own knowledge. And that'd exactly where it had lead you to.

Somehow you had managed to get into a AP English class. You never knew why, maybe it was becuase they ran out of people and decided to throw in students who they thought they could do well, or maybe they actually thought you were smart! Option 1 sounds more realistic though.

Your class was assigned another essay to write, and honestly you were ar the verge of a breaking point. ANOTHER essay? You could've sworn you just finished one about an historical white man. But hey, who's keeping track? Your not even keeping track of the your cup of coffee that tipped off your desk.

A huge splash echoed through the class, and a damped feeling sunk into your uniform. Shit, did that really just happen? Your gaze turned to the cup of coffee that was fully ruined, and wasted among the floor. That was going to a pain to clean up.

But wait—that's not even the point! You don't care about how tedious it will be the clean up, you care about all the eyes on you and your uniform! This was terribly embarrassing, you didn't even know what to think, your mind simply went blank. The bi haired male started back at your from the other side of the classroom, and the teacher muttered something before going to grab the janitor. Your mind was completely blank, you could hear kids snickering amongst themselves. You didn't even feel like crying, you just prayed you were dreaming.

Amongst your frantic thoughts, a hand decorated in diffrent rings reached out to you. You had peered up to see the same Bi- color haired male, the same bi colored orbs gazing right back. He had a concerned smile, and he urged his hand closer, signaling you to take it. It was almost like he teleported from his seat to you.

"Your clothes, let's stop by the office to get another uniform." He muttered, and you gladly took it. You rather had been anywhere besides that classroom.

It was silent on the walk there, you were questioning a lot of things, but especially him. You could've sworn he didn't talk to anyone else, you saw him with a freind group once, but that was it. None of his freinds were in the same AP English class either, so it was werid why he was the one to offer to take you.

Maybe he pitied you that badly.

If only you recognized how he always stared at you in class, and it wasn't just becuase you spilled coffee everywhere that one day.

You were a nervous wreck, and he was for a completely diffrent reason.

──────────────────────── it's 1am I'm so tired I'll correct grammer in the morning 🫂🫂

[missglittersmiles]

Sound Mind & Heart CH. 1

AOT Various × Fem! Reader

The stars looked exceptionally pretty tonight. The light breeze made the leaves rustle softly. Three people sat on a tree branch closely together. None of them spoke as a melancholic feeling hung over them. They knew this would be their last late-night meeting ever. Graduation was in a few days, and there will be a small celebratory party for the 104th cadets tomorrow night.

It started out with Marco wanting to improve his ODM skills. He knew he'd never touch an ODM gear when he joined the military police. But he wouldn't be given the choice if he didn't improve his usage of it. He'd ask y/n to train him because he saw her sneak into the woods with her ODM gear on after curfew multiple times.

The girl was flattered. "I'll help you train, but you have to agree to marry me." She held Marco's hand like it was made of porcelain. "Don't worry. I'll pay for the rings. Just tell me your ring size, and I'll figure out everything else." He opened his mouth to respond, yet he couldn't find any. The poor boy was too flustered and taken back by her reaction. She let his hand go with a light chuckle. "I'm just partially joking, but you can train with me."

The first few nights were a struggle. y/n couldn't stop babying Marco, like any sudden movement would break him. And using ODM gear in the dark wasn't easy for him. y/n nearly had a heart attack every time he bumped into a tree. Still, Marco was slowly making some progress.

It wasn't long before Jean joined their late-night training. He was moping about Eren getting a better grade than him in their latest test. Marco invited him along to do some extra training with him and y/n. Jean turned down the offer. Explaining that he was good enough to not need extra training, but he'd eventually cave in and join them.

It was supposed to be about improving each other's skills, but it quickly became y/n and Jean teaching Marco the best techniques for using ODM. The two had very different teaching styles. y/n constantly showered him in praise while Jean focused more on the actual training. Leading the two to slightly bicker, though it never got too out of hand. y/n never seemed to take anything seriously.

"Still plan on joining the scouts?" Jean asked. He didn't bother looking at y/n and she didn't look back at him either. They both just looked up at the night sky. Marco stole a glance at y/n, hoping to see her consider her options or hesitate at the very least.

"Yeah. Of course." There was no delay in her response, which saddened the two. Though it seemed to bother Jean more. "You're just going to die out there. Honestly, you're better off joining the garrison. There's no need to play the hero." Marco didn't like Jean's aggressive tone but did agree with him to an extent.

"Aw, are you worried about little old me?" y/n gave him a cheeky smile. Her voice was too light for this important conversation. She swung her legs off the tree branch with a sort of excitement. This seemed to anger Jean more.

"You could have easily been one of the top ten if you didn't sleep through all those lectures. Do you have the same death wish as that dumb suicidal maniac? Or do you really think that there's a future outside the walls?" His irritation hid his concern and fear.

She stopped swinging her legs and looked down for a moment. She stared at the tree branches down below with a sort of thoughtfulness etched into her expression. The two waited for her response, one being more patient than the other. Marco placed his hand over hers and said, "No matter what you do, y/n, I'll support you." She looked at his sincere smile for a moment before returning one herself.

Jean swiftly popped the tender moment. "You're going to support her in getting herself killed?" He pointed out with gritted teeth. Marco looked away, a little abashed. He responded with uncertainty, "No. I didn't mean it like that. You know what I mean."

How the two acted so nonchalant about the whole thing irked Jean. y/n, their friend during these 4 years of training, was marching to their death with a smile. And all Marco would say was essentially measly good luck. Just as Jean was about to spit out venomous words at the two, y/n spoke up.

"There's life outside the walls."

Jean's frustration was calmed for a moment by y/n's statement. The way she said it so confidently made them look at her with curiosity. Waiting for her to explain herself further. "What do you mean?" Marco asked; his eyes were filled with interest. She stared into his eyes as if searching for something. After a moment she'd look back at the sky and said, "I believe." Jean asked her what the hell she meant by that. "I believe there's life outside the walls. That's all." Jean rolled his eyes and Marco thought about the idea.

Marco shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, I guess it's possible." He didn't want to crush y/n's belief because he didn't at least entertain the idea. "The only thing outside the walls are titans and death." Jean snickered at his friends' optimistic naivety. Unsurprisingly, y/n let out a chuckle. Sometimes it felt like y/n couldn't be knocked down, and even if she was, she'd still be laughing to herself. "Yeah, maybe. But how could we know if we don't go out there?" She gave Jean a small smile.

"Don't expect me to cry at your funeral when I hear you got eaten by a titan. That is if you still have remains to be buried." Marco called Jean out for his crass remark. Telling him to apologize for what he said, all while y/n laughed.

She put her arms around both of their shoulders and pulled them close to her. "Jean, Marco…You two have made every day so much better. Honestly, it's going to hurt a lot when we split up, but knowing you two have each other when you become an MP has brought me peace. I think…I think I'd do just about anything for you two." A sniffle came from Marco. y/n could feel his shoulders shake a little; she didn't have to look at him to know that he was crying. She tried to keep up her smile and gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"If you'll do anything for us, then join the garrison." y/n quickly blinked away any tears. She didn't want to show how emotional their final time here was making her. She was upbeat, if not wishy-washy. That's how she wanted them to remember her. Not the girl who broke down in tears because she'd be left alone with people like Eren who were crazy enough to join the scouts.

"I said I think I'd do anything for you. And that's not one of them. Hey, but when you become MPs, how about you send me some candy through a letter or something? I’m sure candy from the interior is heavenly. I asked Annie to send me some when she gets there, but you never know with her. Plus, she's greedy with her sweets." y/n started babbling on. Trying to stray further from that conversation. Marco was too busy wiping away his tears, and it didn't seem like Jean was even listening. Too busy thinking to himself.

Just as y/n was starting to reminisce about their first day here, Jean finally snapped out of it. He pushed her arm off his shoulders and gave her an intense look. "If you join the garrison, then I'll join it too." The two looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

"But the whole reason you're here is to live in the interior." Marco stated. He was completely dumbfounded by Jean's sudden shift. Jean let out a frustrated sigh, "y/n, you shouldn't have to throw your life away. There's so many people that care about you more than you realize. The scouts aren't worth your life."

y/n's heart felt heavier with each word he spoke. She could feel her facade cracking under his gaze. Then Marco spoke up, "I'll join the garrison as well! We'll be together till the end!" His voice was soft but held a bright determination. y/n couldn't take it longer and let out a choked cry. Tears streamed down her face.

She swiftly pushed her arm to her eyes. A poor attempt at hiding her tears. She could feel a hand rubbing her back to provide some type of comfort. Yet it only made her cry harder. They were too good for her. So selfless compared to her. She was a mere insect and they were everything but that. Everyone here was so much better than her in multiple ways. It was almost unfair.

After a moment of weeping, y/n croaked, "Write to me how nice it looks in Sina." Jean looked at her disbelief. He and Marco are willing to throw away their dream of joining the military police so that they could be together. Yet she's still determined to die beyond the walls.

Jean didn't doubt her skill. Again, she could have easily been one of the top ten, but she threw it away. She threw away any good opportunity for herself. There was a difference between training dummies and real titans. The thought of those disgusting things getting near any of them sent a chill down his spine. There were so many ways one could die out there. She'd be considered lucky if her corpse wasn't completely eaten. Or maybe she'd be marked as MIA.

At what point should one give up on someone? Jean can't tell if she's stupid or ignorant for throwing everything away. Jean stood up. "You're fucking worse than that suicidal maniac." With that, he used his ODM gear to zoom through the trees and back to camp. The two were silent for a moment. Watching Jean disappear into the night. "I'd tell you to take care of Jean, but I know I don't have to worry about that." y/n said, appearing to be unbothered by the whole thing.

"Of course. You can always count on me, but..." Marco trailed off for a moment. She waited patiently and took her arm off his shoulder. Swinging her legs as she picked at the tree bark. "But promise me you'll come alive back from every expedition. No matter what it takes." She held herself back from recoiling at his words. She subconsciously started twirling a strand of hair with one of her fingers. "I'll try." She said it without looking at him.

"Promise me. Promise Jean. Promise us that you'll live." His voice was surprisingly stern. 'I wanted this to be a nice night.' y/n thought to herself with a sigh. "I promise you, Marco Bodt, my freckled fiend, and Jean Kirstein, my trusty steed, that I'll try to come back alive." She forced a smile. "y/n," Marco said with a frown.

She was quick to interrupt him. "Just smile for me." She held both sides of his face. "Just between you and me. I think your smile looks prettier than Jean's." He scoffed a laugh before pulling her hands off his face and giving her a smile. "There it is! There's my winning smile! Come on, let's head back before someone notices we're out."

"But you'll try to live, won't you?"

"Yes, my dearest. Now stop worrying about that." She hid her slight annoyance behind a laugh and a dismissive hand wave.

Next Chapter

Sound Mind & Heart Masterlist

[morelikeravenbore]

A comprehensive guide on how to turn the good guys bad.

Sebastian x f!oc, seventh year, post-canon/canon-divergent, idiots in love, mutual pining, eventual romance, suppressed powers, slytherin x ravenclaw pairing, no game-play retelling. [rated mature, no smut.]

[read on ao3, read on wattpad]

🦋 C h a p t e r o n e [2.4k words]

If Aurélie Collins had to choose one word to best describe herself, she supposed it would be, to put it as delicately as she could: "completely and utterly overwhelmed." Granted, that was four words, not one, but as she trudged down yet another unfamiliar corridor, she was simply relieved she could string together a coherent sentence at all; after the last few months of hell she'd endured, Aurélie wasn't her usual eloquent self, to say the least.

She hadn't always been this way: overwhelmed, that is. In fact, if asked only a few months ago to describe herself, she would've said she was dutiful, quick-witted, and, if not brave, then definitely unafraid of facing challenges head-on. She'd been a confident girl once: she got good grades, always did as she was asked and never stepped a toe out of line. Everyone — from her parents and teachers to her friends and peers — knew that Aurélie Collins would go on to achieve whatever she set her mind to.

Now, though? Well, nowadays she was too overwhelmed, too exhausted, too beset by grief to set her mind on much of anything.

— And this new school of hers certainly wasn't doing anything to improve her situation.

Bloody Hogwarts.

Of all places she'd ever imagined herself living, the freezing cold Scottish Highlands was absolutely not one of them. But, then again, she wouldn't have believed she'd be an orphan at seventeen either, yet here she was.

Hogwarts was famous, of course. Heralded as the pinnacle of magical education and arguably the top school in the wizarding world, most witches and wizards were honoured to attend such a prestigious establishment. But Aurélie was of the opinion that every bloody thing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was confusing, unnecessary, or just downright nonsensical. From the ever-changing floorplan to the myriad of talking portraits (all of whom gave her wildly conflicting directions depending on which ones she asked), nothing about Hogwarts made any sense.

She was almost in tears by the time she reached another dead end. It was simply impossible to find one's way around a school like this; there were too many floors to navigate, too many disused classrooms and far too many staircases that led to nowhere. Not to mention, beyond its confusing floorplan and unbearably draughty rooms, the ancient hulking castle was rather ugly — by Aurélie's standards at least; the monolithic Gothic castle was so far removed from the elegance and charm of Beauxbatons that it seemed almost cruel that she should be forced to endure it at all. She could almost hear her best friend Céleste's reaction if she were with her now: 'Ugh, it's so awfully medieval. Stone Gargoyles? And all those uncouth English boys? I don't know which I find more barbaric!'

She almost smiled at the thought. But only almost — for thinking of her best friend only made her sad.

Shaking herself mentally, she shifted the weight of her books from one arm to the other and cast a despairing glance over her gloomy surroundings. She did not like thinking about her old life, least of all while she was lost in a labyrinth of spooky corridors and dingy classrooms on her very first day of school. 

'Which Merlin-forsaken floor is this, anyway?' she muttered to herself in French as a group of first years rounded the corner, giggling obnoxiously. She knew them as Slytherin's not by the green and silver of their robes, but by the way they skittered around her, unwilling to help though she was clearly in need.

Notoriously unfriendly was how her father had described the snakes. Unlike her maman, a Beauxbatons alumna — and later a professor of music — Aurélie's papa had attended Hogwarts in his youth, though he'd been a Hufflepuff: a badger, not a snake.

He'd have helped anyone in need — even a Slytherin.

Her heart gave an awful, sickening lurch at the thought of him. Oh, her wonderful papa: patient and good-humoured and endlessly curious and —

Dead. He's dead, Aurélie. Stop thinking about him.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she trudged on determinedly, taking what felt like the hundredth set of stairs she'd already descended that morning while shame roiled in her stomach; she wasn't used to failing — not at tests, not at taking care of herself, and certainly not at something as simple as getting to class on time. Even the first years knew where they were going, for crying out loud, and they'd been here for just as short a time as she had!

When at last she found herself facing yet another dead end, she finally conceded defeat. Trying very hard not to cry, she adjusted her unflattering black robes (oh, to be dressed in fine blue silk again) and began to seriously consider how much trouble she'd be in if she just went back to bed. Or, more tempting still, how badly she'd be punished if she fled back to France and never returned to Hogwarts again, graduation be damned.

Because what did her education matter when her future was so unsure? What did anything matter when everything she knew had been taken from her?

But no, she couldn't leave Hogwarts; it was the safest place for her since her parents had died, and Professor Weasley, the Deputy Headmistress, had evoked the power of Merlin himself to secure her a place here at such short notice; apparently, it had not been an easy feat convincing Headmaster Black to take on a student with her reputation.

Aurélie sighed and squeezed her eyes closed. 'It's just for one year,' she muttered under her breath, repeating the phrase that had become her mantra. 'Just one year, that's all.'

'Unless you're trying to break into the Slytherin common room,' said an unexpected voice behind her, 'I'm going to assume you're lost.'

Aurélie whirled around so fast she whipped herself in the face with her long auburn braid. She hadn't always been a jumpy sort of person, but losing both parents at the same time had a way of making one rather fearful of unexpected voices in unfamiliar corridors.

The boy who stood before her had his wand held up to her chest; its tip glowed brightly red in front of his face, casting an ominous-looking hue over pale skin and flaxen hair. Almost immediately, Aurélie saw visions of dark shadows and searing red pain, scraps and flashes of fear, the sound of someone crying —

Not again.

For one dreadful, heart-stopping moment, she thought he meant to curse her —

Her palms tingled; a telltale sign that the forbidden magic in her blood was very much alive despite her efforts to suppress it — and very much wanted to be used.

Not again, please.

She stumbled backwards, but the boy made no move to attack. Instead, he simply stared at her. — No, not at her but through her. It was then that she noticed his eyes; milky white and translucent, gleaming like pearlescent orbs in his angular face.

He was blind.

'S-sorry,' Aurélie said a little breathlessly. 'I'm trying to find Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I'm afraid I...' She swallowed hard. 'I have no idea where I am.'

The boy chuckled, and though the sound was pleasant enough, it was undoubtedly more incredulous than amused. 'Oh my, you are lost, aren't you?'

Pinned to the breast pocket of his immaculate robes was a small badge engraved with the words Head Boy; even bathed under the red glow of his wand light, she could clearly make out the tiny snake etched onto its gleaming surface. Another Slytherin.

She'd known very little about the four Hogwarts houses before embarking on her unexpected stint at the school, but when the Sorting Hat had asked her if she'd had a preference, all she could think was that she didn't want to be part of a house whose emblem was a snake.

When Aurélie did not reply, he heaved an impatient sigh.

'You're the new Ravenclaw,' he said matter-of-factly. 'I must say, I didn't expect to find you all the way down here.'

The boy had a distinctly aristocratic air about him: haughty and vaguely displeased as all aristocratic types were loath to be, with fine, blonde hair slicked back from his face, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that screamed of fine magical breeding. Aurélie wondered vaguely which noble family he was from, for she certainly knew a wealthy pureblood when she saw one; half of Beauxbatons was full of old ennobled wizarding families.

As she opened her mouth to ask him how he knew who she was, he cut her off —

'I recognise your accent,' he explained as if he'd read her thoughts. 'There aren't any other French students at Hogwarts.' His sharp, clipped voice was a stark contrast to his delicate features, and yet, there was something strangely unsettling about it that stirred something inside her. Something familiar. Something... unpleasant.

'Half French,' she corrected him, pushing the thought away. 'My father was English, mother was French. But — er, yes, I suppose I do sound different to everyone else.'

Having been bilingual all her life, Aurélie spoke both English and French fluently — but apparently, her French accent wasn't as undetectable as she'd hoped. She smoothed her clammy hands down the front of her awfully drab robes, acutely aware of how the boy's unseeing eyes seemed to pierce her with surprising intensity.

'Yes, well,' he drawled in a tone that suggested that he didn't particularly care about the finer details of her heritage. 'You're absolutely nowhere near the Defence floor. In fact, you're almost in the dungeons. Frankly, I'm baffled you managed to make it here from the Great Hall all by yourself. Why weren't you following your classmates?'

'Oh. I wasn't in the Great Hall. I came straight from my common room.'

Not entirely trusting that anything she ate would stay down for long, she'd opted to skip breakfast in the hall with the other students that morning and head straight to class instead. Though the few Ravenclaw's she'd met so far had seemed friendly enough, their interest in the new foreign transfer student made her uncomfortable. One particularly rambunctuous Ravenclaw boy whose name she couldn't recall had ogled her like she was an exotic beast and told her that Hogwarts never got transfer students — not ever.

'If I'd been made to be sorted in front of the entire school as a seventh year,' he had said, 'I would have died of humiliation.'

Inwardly, Aurélie had agreed with him, for she certainly didn't count the Sorting Ceremony as one of her favourite life experiences. Outwardly though, she'd only smiled politely and told him it hadn't been so bad before excusing herself to a quiet corner of the common room to sit alone.

She had no intention of making friends during her single year at Hogwarts. Given that she planned to head straight back to France the moment she graduated, the thought of making friends only to have to say goodbye to them was an ordeal she wasn't sure she could endure. But beyond that, she feared that should anyone find out the truth about why she'd transferred in the first place, well... It was better to be invisible than a source of gossip and speculation.

As a seventeen-year-old witch who hadn't achieved anything particularly extraordinary, Aurélie didn't think herself interesting by any stretch. But unfortunately, having ones family murdered by dark wizards certainly was — and that was not something she wanted to be known for.

'So you're telling me,' the boy said with an impatient huff, 'that you managed to get yourself from the Ravenclaw common room, one of the highest points in the castle, to the very lowest depths of the dungeons, and didn't at any point stop to think that perhaps you were headed in the wrong direction?' His translucent pupils gleamed red under the glow of his wand light. 'Nor did you think it prudent to eat something before you start studying for your N.E.W.T.s, the most important and difficult exam in a witch's educational career?' He shook his head in exasperation. 'And here I was thinking Ravenclaw's were supposed to be intelligent.'

Aurélie didn't quite know how to react to this outburst, but rather thought she'd been right to not want to be in the snake house. When she made no reply, the boy heaved another heavy sigh, clearly annoyed.

'Very well,' he sniffed. 'As Head Boy, I suppose it is my duty to help you, even though you ought to be old enough by now to look after yourself. Come along, then.'

With a final sneer, the boy turned on his heel and strode purposefully down the empty corridor. Despite her chagrin, Aurélie couldn't help but marvel at the way his wand seemed to act as a proxy for his sight; pulsing like a heartbeat, it lead him effortlessly through the maze of corridors that even she with her perfect vision couldn't seem to navigate. She hurried after him, silently chastising herself for being so useless that she had to be led to class by a blind boy.

'Ominis Gaunt, by the way,' he said once she'd caught up to him; he was rather a fast walker for someone who couldn't see where they were going.

'Oh, er — hello, I'm —'

'Aurélie Collins,' he cut in, pronouncing her first name the correct French way. 'Yes, I know who you are. Now, do pay attention, won't you? Defence Against the Dark Arts is on the third floor, not in the dungeons. Even I can tell this isn't the third floor, and I'm blind.'

Aurélie grimaced. Perhaps the Sorting Hat had made a mistake putting her into a house whose members were valued for being clever.

'So... you're Head Boy?' she asked timidly.

'That is what I said, isn't it?' came his sharp reply. 'And I'll have you know that I've quite enough to be getting on with today without needing to rescue stray Ravenclaws from the dungeons.'

'I didn't need rescuing,' she muttered under her breath, but Ominis only ignored her, and after a very tense silence and several staircases later, they came to a stop outside the correct classroom on the third floor.

'Do try not to get yourself so embarrassingly lost again, won't you?' he said tersely. 'I don't have time to babysit seventh years, I've enough first year drama to deal with as it is.'

And with that, he was away again, muttering darkly about Ravenclaw's and incompetence as he went, leaving Aurélie standing dumbfounded in his wake.

[bluehairlaunch]

Top 7 BEST Dragon Ball Transformations

Honorable mention: Yung King Piccolo

Does this count as a transformation?

Mecha Tao

Yup, the best villain in all of Dragon Ball also did this first. Eat your heart out, Frieza.

Wait, does this not count either??

Muscle Bottom Trunks

This is where Super Saiyan and its myriad iterations (including "SS2" and whatever you nerds call the version Goku and Gohan have when they emerge from the Room of Spirit and Time) would go, but I decided to choose just my favorite one instead.

I think this transformation has over half a dozen names: Super Saiyan Third Grade, Super Saiyan 1.5, Super Super Saiyan, Ultra Super Saiyan, lmao jesus christ, Power-weighted Super Saiyan, Power stressed Super Saiyan Bitch Super Saiyan, and somehow the list just keeps going on. But what I like most about it is that everyone can do it.

Well not the Super Saiyan part, you have to have a little bit of Saiyan in your brainpan to do that, but the getting big. Doing so makes you stronger, but also so much slower that the difference just doesn't matter (for those of you that just watch youtube videos, and don't read the fucking comic). Frieza is such a useless he/they thembo that he also mistook it for a legitimate transformation against Goku on Namek. Y'know, his 100% (this time for real guyz).

Golden Fuuureeeza

I railed against lazy recolors in my worst transformations list, but Frieza is the physical embodiment of sloth and affluenza. He was the strongest being in the universe by far barring an ancient alien prophecy for fucking decades. And what does he do with all that power? Well, ride around on a rascal scooter, of course, while sending endless swathes of Appule's to do his dirty work. Instead of lifting a finger for an hour and then being immortal FOREVER.

And that's why it works for me in all the ways Resurrection F didn't. He's supposed to be stupid and ostentatious. Dragon Ball Super writers, you're NOT.

Janemba

Frankly, this is the biggest glow up in Dragon Ball history. From lazy Buu clone to, well, admittedly a lazy clone of another great character. But he has a sword! And that moveset. And it's an actually good filler movie in which Hitler dies (again).

Just look at him

Legendary Super Saiyan

Why is greenish Super Saiyan soooooo coooool??? Well, I'll tell you why.

It's because it just is. Super Saiyan? Actually so cool. Green? Such a good color Victorian aristocrats were willing to kill themselves using a shade of it that contained arsenic. It was basically their version of Oceangate, but they all did it! We could only be so lucky nowadays. And the lore implications? Mmm, yeah. Yeah!

You see, in canon Goku did a little prophecy, but Toriyama can't help but be a great writer, so instead of just being the generic Chosen One a la every bad shonen we all know and love, he's not. He's just not. Goku, Gohan, Vegeta, Trunks, baby Trunks, baby Goku, they all do it too. Turns out, Super Saiyan is something each and every Saiyan can do. And then filler happens, Broly shows up, and everyone sees that this is because he's the real Chosen Boy.

And he's green! And we all loved it so hard we got a quality version a century later.

Nice. That's history for you.

Great Ape

The OG. Look at this trendsetter. If this isn't the second best, what is? You're wrong.

Perfect Cell

It's perfect...

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time. i'm WAY behind. friday we watched voy's "tattoo," saturday i finally womaned up and agreed to watch ds9's "the visitor" and then we also bravely soldiered on to "hippocratic oath," and last night we did ds9's "indiscretion" and "rejoined."

tattoo (voy):

it's a real shame about (waves vaguely at racefaking "expert" on voy's writing staff) because, due to my own lack of education, i never know which stuff is based in fact and which is just wholesale bullshit. i remember one time i googled something about chakotay's culture because it seemed so obviously fake, and it turned out to be Kind Of True But Not Like That. it sucks because not ONLY was it a huge missed opportunity for Representation And Education (tm) but chakotay is a really interesting guy and i'd like to know more about him and see him get to do more stuff without him getting buried in the like. mysticism and racism of it all. it's no good for him and it's no good to sit through either

bc like. at this episode's core. if you could somehow remove the racist panflute and the whole thing where we portray people from THE SPACE TRAVELING FUTUREEE as primitive savages, you could have had a good story. chakotay struggles with not feeling at home where he lives/in his own culture, goes to space about it, then has an emotional crisis when his dad dies while the two of them are on bad terms. i know that's a good story and i know star trek can make that a good story because do you know who else has that story? SPOCK.

LIKE. IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO EASY. WHAT WERE YOU DOING!

anyway, chakotay naked. i know he was naked for the wrong reasons but that man had his whole ass out. bold moves heretofore only taken by sir patrick stewart himself. GOOD FOR HIM!

oh yeah the b plot of this episode sucked. we have to give the doctor a cold because of his lack of compassion? since When has he ever complained about sick or whiny people? been gruff with them, sure, tough-love kind of guy definitely, but no one would program a doctor who hated serving patients?? i did like that kes gave him an extra hour to be evil though. i love her so much

the visitor (ds9):

i don't want to talk about it.

or, no, i actually already talked about it, and i don't have anything to add, except that 1. christopher nolan can still suck it 2. every episode of ds9's 4th season so far has made me feel like i need to give it a "must see" on the spreadsheet. i almost can't believe i'm watching star trek. i have to start grading the damn things on a curve

hippocratic oath:

THIS IS WHAT I MEAN. stuck with the jem'hadar and julian is like "i can fix them" and o'brien is like "i have been racist my whole life and i'm not about to stop now and also you cannot fix them so i am going to condemn them to a horrible death in order to save your life" because he did at the beginning of the episode say out loud with his mouth that he wished his wife was more like julian bashir and then promptly refused to examine that thought even a little bit

like this had EVERYTHING. gay people. ethical dilemmas. twink with a spine of steel. worf forgetting he's no longer in tng. my best friend odo disguising as an inanimate object. and i'm supposed to just give it a WATCH?

like, i was right there with julian. fix them fix them fix them it's so easy they CAN be weaned off of it this could change everything i was so livid with o'brien for condemning those guys to a painful and undignified ending and for repeatedly ruining julian's attempts to help with all his attempts to escape and then he was like. yeah. i did all that to save YOUR LIFE because i saw that YOU were in danger.

and it obviously doesn't excuse anything and you get the feeling julian COULD have helped them with enough time and the right tools and and and...but he didn't have all that, and obrien KNEW he didn't have all that, and he wasn't willing to risk his friend's life on a gamble when it came to helping enemy soldiers

like, it's his fucking cardassian ptsd. note how he didn't speak when they were captured but bashir did because the gun was on his friend. note how he had to explain why the commander couldn't escape with them. IT MKAES SO MUCH SENSE FOR HIS CHARACTER. who hasn't done horrible things for the people they love? if his wife doesn't get back soon he's going to be asking for julian's hand in marriage by season 5

indiscretion (ds9):

KIRA PULLING THE THORN OUT OF DUKAT'S ASS. sorry i'm good i'm normal

something about dukat...at first he was very boring and flat, and then he was funny but still pretty 2-dimensional, and then he was funny AND gay with sisko but still 2-dimensional, and now he's got all kinds of depth. i completely wrote him off as generic cardassian villain at first but i am genuinely thrilled to see him every time he shows up

like, the bajoran lover and the daughter is such an amazing plot twist, but also, sorry to say this, he and kira have q and picard energy. as in, q wants picard to fuck him so so so bad, and picard has zero interest in doing this, and somehow that interest gets even lower the more q wants it, and the lower his interest gets, the more rabid q is for him, and it's probably the only thing i really enjoyed about either character, a few of sir patrick stewart's better speeches aside. dukat is exactly like that with kira. he is GAGGING for her strap and she finds him vile and rephrensible and the closest they got to fucking was when she pulled the spine out of his ass cheek and laughed at him and he probably is going to put that in the spank bank for the rest of his life. and she will still never fuck him

really fun when she told him to shut up and he shut up <3

i just love episodes that deal with the fallout of the war...it's always such incredible character work. i was worried that with the dominion threat these kinds of episodes would go away and i'm glad that's not the case

also, hi, sisko fumbling things with his gf for the b-plot. dax and julian giving him romantic advice and then mocking him when he leaves. jake being the only one who can talk sense into him. incredible. 10/10

ALSO, not only did capt yates make him work at that apology she did NOT kiss his ass goodbye. and he deserved it.

even quark was funny in this episode, despite the misogyny. he was nice to jake in "the visitor" so i think i've forgiven him because i've made at least two quodo jokes since then. my first love will always be kiraodo (kodo?) though

rejoined (ds9):

LESBIANS IN STAR TREK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

as previously stated about 600 times on this blog i DID NOT KNOW there would be a gay kiss happening. i thought btvs held the honors for the first gay kiss and that this was going to be like an allegory or a metaphor like in tng. and i did like the tng ep for what it was! but holy shit this blows that out of the water.

i think it's so important that this would have been absolutely NO different whatsoever if either half of the couple had been a man. for the time period especially it's very much like. Queers Are Just Like Us which i think is an important step 1 to reel in potential bigots who are still on the fence. i cannot believe my mother is going to watch this episode someday

also, hi, the allies in this episode...? julian sitting through that WHOLE dinner without the first word of complaint. sisko telling dax it's a bad idea but he'll back her tf up. kira bewildered that any of it is any problem at all. sisko's moment was especially nice bc at first you think he's being a dick which is out of character for him and then you realize 1. he's scared for her 2. he loves her 3. he would probably fight the homophobic (recursionphobic...?) trills with his bare hands if he had a good excuse

it's also nice that zero people in this episode were weird about the idea of two women together. it was SO NORMAL. god i can't believe andor let those two women touch hands for a single shot and called it progressive between that and spn my standards are through the FLOOR!!

TONIGHT: ds9's "starship down" and "little green men," and then we're finally back to voyager.