#might fuck around and put this on a03 idk

[ladyddanger]

thinking about the events of the dsmp hundreds of years later being just a bunch of stories.

In a village nestled between tall pines children play Manberg Vs Pogtopia, the names of nations and reasons for war long forgotten as they hit each other with sticks and tackle their friends to warm summer grass.

When their mothers tuck them in that night they tell them stories of a snowy wasteland, so ancient it still holds the scars of long wars forgotten. They tell them of the wasteland’s inhabitant, the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. His name is lost to history but warriors still pray to him on the eve of battle and tie ravens feathers in their hair in his honor.

If the children misbehaved that day their mothers tell them a different story, one of a masked man who steals bad children and drowns them in the sea.

There’s a crater a few miles east of the village in the middle of the marshlands up by a glittering ocean. The crater is so deep that you can throw rocks off the edge and never hear them hit the bottom. Legend says that once upon a time the goddess of death had a son who walked this earth and when he died in her rage and grief she tore into the city that once stood there with her bare hands and ripped it from the earth leaving nothing but a crater behind.

On long sunny evenings in the inns that dot the coastline bards tell stories of a cursed city of gold and glass buried in the heart of a desert where it snows. They whisper the city is full of riches but nobody who looks for it ever comes back.

On stormy nights the Bards tell a different story, a story of a town that sits over a slumbering god. Strange things happen there. Red vines sport up over night. If you listen closely, the people say you can hear them talk. Everyone there has red eyes and cold cold hands.

If you start at dawn and ride in the opposite direction of the carter you can reach the vault before nightfall. The locals claim it used to hold a faceless god guarded by a king but time has weathered the vault’s defenses and the towns children dare each other inside its walls, running though the tight passages.

An old fairytale says if you follow a small barely visible path from the doors of a vault beyond you’ll reach a forest full of trees so overgrown they block the sun. The fairytale says if you walk to the heart of the forrest there’s a prince sleeping there, nestled in the flowers and weeds. The fairytale says his true love and his knights are long dead. The fairytale says he dreams the whole world in existence. The fairytale says a lot of things but nobody really believes it.

[cower-before-power]

Slippery When Wet: Part 2

Summary: An untimely accident in the shower leaves you injured and in need of rescue. Lucky for you, the object of your affections is more than willing to help.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, nudity, implied sexual content, description of injury (nothing graphic), unintentional voyeurism? (idk i mean like voyeurism in the name of helping i’m not sure how to say it ha), lots of dick talk, prolly really bad sex jokes

Link to A03 here

PART 1 HERE

A/N: First of all, THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, LIKED, REBLOGGED AND COMMENTED ON PART 1. You are all amazing, I am so glad you are enjoying this silly little venture Gojo has dragged me on. Again, thank you so much to @ghost-party for her beta skills, you da best! I hope Part 2 makes you all happy :) please enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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You shouldn’t look. Not because you don’t want to, but if you do you’ll know what is absolutely not warming your bed at night and then you’ll probably just feel worse. But, you were overwhelmingly curious. Just a quick look couldn’t hurt.

Right?

You peek through your fingers, just at his upper half. The sight makes you curse softly under your breath. Of course he’s absolutely beautiful out of clothes, did you really expect anything less?

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll get dressed,” he says, “just thought this would help you out.”

Help you out? Good grief this is going to be the star of your late night fantasies for months. Because instead of dreaming it up, you now have the real thing to recall.

“No,” you take a deep breath and drop your hands. “I’m fine.”

Are you though? He’s built to perfection, checking off all the boxes on your “Things I find physically attractive” checklist. You marvel at this long column of his throat, sweeping down into a set of collarbones that would make models die of envy. His chest is hairless (did he wax or was it just naturally that way?), miles of smooth skin and muscle that your fingers were just itching to trace.

Your eyes trail down past his stomach, briefly cataloging the very nice set of abs, before settling on what you were the most curious about.

The snort of laughter escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Excuse me, did you just look at my dick and laugh?” He asks accusingly, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you giggle at the disgruntled expression on his face. “It’s just, I’ve always wondered if the carpet matched the drapes since I assumed you dye your hair. Guess I was wrong.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru visibly deflates.

“That’s what you’ve thought about?” His voice is full of frustrated disbelief. “My pubic hair?”

You can’t stop giggling. “You can’t blame a girl for being curious! Are you sure you shouldn’t get rid of it though? Doesn’t the white make people think they’re boning an old man?”

“The utter disrespect,” he gasps, shaking his head. “I can assure you that is the last thing on their minds when I’m working my magic.”

You wonder why you aren’t feeling more flustered. The fun and teasing atmosphere feels almost refreshing after the intense back and forth that was just occurring.

“What, you casting spells for dry weather?”

“Oh, you are evil!” He moans, then looks down at himself. “Don’t listen to her, big guy. You know what you can do.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t talk to it,” you roll your eyes, trying not to grin. “And don’t oversell the merchandise. It’s average, at best.”

(It isn’t. It’s probably the nicest looking one you’ve ever seen. But him and his astronomical ego do not need to know that)

Gojo grabs his chest as if you’ve physically wounded him. “Ouch! Shots fired, target annihilated!”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you sigh. You wonder if he notices the quiet fondness in your voice.

He opens his mouth as if to retaliate, but then suddenly shuts it. A look comes over his face as if he’s just remembered something very interesting and important.

“Hey,” he says, and you watch his mouth spread into a smile. “You said you’d wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. That means you definitely imagined me naked at least once.”

And your blush is back.

“What of it?” You huff, cross your arms and looking away. “It’s only natural. I’ve thought of lots of people naked.”

“Do you ever imagine sleeping with me?”

The question causes you to choke on your breath.

“What-why would you ask that?”

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

You take a look at him, standing naked and unashamed in front of you. His smile is different; there’s a sultry edge to it you’ve never seen before.

“Maybe inquiring minds should stuff it,” you stick out your tongue. Immature, but he’s got you feeling all funny now.

“Well, I’ve thought about it,” he says. “I’ve thought about it quite a lot, actually.”

Your heart misses a beat in your chest.

“You have?” Your voice squeaks as you force the words out.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

You consider the question. You’ve got insecurities, but you know you are a decent looking person. And despite his flightiness about many things, Gojo has actually never given you the impression that he’s shallow in that way.

“I don’t know,” you say truthfully. “I guess I just never considered the possibility that you were interested in me in that way.”

He sighs. “Pumpkin, I’m not blind. You are stupidly attractive. Every time we’re out in Tokyo you’ve got a million guys and gals staring at you.”

“I just always assumed they were staring at your and your stupid blindfold,” you scrub at your cheeks with your palms, trying to rid yourself of some of the perplexing confusion you feel swirling inside you. “How come you’ve never made a move?”

“Would you have wanted me to?”

You want to shout at him, to say of course yes a thousand times yes, but you pause. You realize you’ve never given him any signals, any hint that he was more than just your often annoying friend. Sure, you blushed at his silly flirting, but so did lots of people.

You shift back through your interactions, all the missions, the late night hang outs, the strolls through the city. Nowhere can you find any instant where your ever expanding feelings might have risen to the surface. But still, would your seeming indifference deter him? He was a very self assured man, after all.

“You have confidence coming out your ass, it’s hard to believe you wouldn’t make a move anyways, just to see,” you say instead.

His whole demeanor softens. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up.”

Oh.

OH.

And you know exactly what he means. It’s why you’ve never said anything, why you forced your desires deep down into the pit of your being when in his presence.

It seems even the strongest shaman could be afraid of something.

“It’s not just about fucking, is it?” You ask, feeling your whole body start to tremble.

“It was never just about fucking,” he replies, and it’s like the universe explodes before your very eyes. “Why do you think I spend all my free time with you?”

“To annoy me?” You croak feebly. “To eat all my snacks? To enjoy torturing me by spoiling the end to every movie we watch?”

He chuckles. “Just side bonuses. Being with you is the real prize, pumpkin.”

“Oh,” you whisper, and your brain whirs like an overworked laptop. You’re having trouble processing that this is actually happening, that the man you’ve been pining after for what feels like forever is really standing there, confessing his own feelings.

Buck ass naked.

“You’ve got two options right now,” Gojo takes a step closer to you, and you shiver at the dominant aura that suddenly swirls around him. “Either I get dressed and we put today behind us, or I come over there and kiss you until you can’t remember your own name. Make your choice.”

Was there even a choice? There was only one option. A slow, warm feeling blooms in the middle of your chest and spreads outwards, dousing your whole shaking body in molten yearning. It’s not a new feeling, but the sensations are different. Because now you can give in to it.

“Kiss me,” you blurt out, breathless and giddy. “Get the fuck over here and kiss me.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

A flash of a savage grin, the soft thump of footsteps and then you are numb to everything but him.

He tastes like sugary coffee and chapstick, lips hard and hot against yours as he kisses you like he’ll die if he stops. He’s everywhere at once, in all your senses, drowning you in his onslaught of desirous fervour. It’s not a timid kiss of new sweethearts; it’s a passionate embrace of long overdue lovers.

Your hands run over every inch of him they can reach, mapping the ridges and valleys of his exposed skin. His own slip beneath your shirt to spread across your back, crushing you to him with a grip of iron. It’s not enough; you want them everywhere, you want him everywhere, until he’s branded onto your body. Until you no longer know where you end and he begins. Until he’s sunken himself into your very bones.

You need to breathe- you pull away with a gasp, one gossamer thread of saliva lazily trailing after you.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You pant, digging your nails into his arms. He’s unwilling to keep his mouth off you, now pressing scalding kisses along your jaw.

“Blame it on mutual stupidity,” he sighs into your skin, teeth slightly grazing the spot just below your ear. “Let’s make up for lost time, eh?”

“I’m game,” you say, a soft whine leaving your lips as he works steadily on what is sure to become a bruise.

“Good,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue across the blossoming mark before leaning back to smirk at you. “Have to make you take back all your snarky comments about me and my game.”

You giggle. “Oh, so you’re saying it won’t be as dry as a desert ‘round here?”

“Well let me just check tonight’s weather report,” he laughs, grinning cheekily as he slips a hand down between your legs, brushing gently over the front of your underwear. You bite your lip, grip on his biceps tightening.

“Ladies and gentleman, we’re in for a wet night,” he says in what you assume is his best weatherman voice. “Expect a great deal of precipitation, more so than what’s already accumulated. Perhaps we’ll even see some flooding. We’re talking possibly record setting levels here.”

You snort with laughter, pushing at him slightly. “You are such an idiot. Just shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”

“Oh, I intend to put my mouth in a lot of different places,” he removes his hand, snapping the elastic band of your underwear against your hip as he goes. “I know I just got you into these, but shall I undress you now?”

“Yes please,” you nod eagerly, already wiggling out of your shirt. He quickly helps remove the offending garment, but in all the lust and excitement you’ve forgotten about your shoulder, and you moan in pain when you jostle it.

“Owwwwwwie, stupid shoulder!”

“Shhh, pumpkin,” Gojo coos gently, leaning down to pepper the area with kisses. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

You feel yourself melt at the sudden tender display, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his luscious hair as he continues to smother your bruised shoulder in affection. “You already are, Satoru.”

The first name slips out unexpectedly, but you like the way it rolls off your tongue. He seems to as well, judging by the pleased noise that rumbles from his chest.

“Well, allow me to continue then,” he purrs, and his lips leave your shoulder to capture yours in another toe curling kiss. You press yourself to him, the feel of his bare skin against yours sending a thrill shooting down your spine.

An idea suddenly pops into your head.

“I never got to finish my shower,” you break your kiss to speak, looking up at him under your lashes.

He catches on immediately, his smile once again turning primal. It makes your knees weak and your gut clench in anticipation.

“Maybe you should help me, since I’m injured and all,” you push yourself even closer to him, shivering at the feeling of his not-so-average excitement pressing against your belly.

“Hmmmm, I could do that,” he’s already got his fingers hooked in your underwear, slowly starting to push them down your hips. “But what if you slip again?”

“Well, you’ll just have to catch me then,” you wink at him. “With your dick.”

He roars with laughter, and your heart has never been more full.

“Oh, I’ll do more than just catch you, pumpkin,” he growls playfully, and before you can blink he’s rid you of your bottoms and swept you up into his arms. “I’m going to absolutely wreck you.”

You reach up to kiss him as he pounds towards the bathroom, your blood on fire and only one thought in your head.

Bless that stupid, slippery, wonderful bar of soap.

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Taglist: @satorudicks @sara-nyaa @dixonsbugaboo @fandomtrash100 @oikusa-snow @okemis @kuxredere @mylittleteddybear @the-fandoms-georgie @inaflashimagine @crapimahuman @elenapri0502 @fragments-of-aria @bollywoodghoul @wrdro @kiasnotforever @disregardedbymybias @lavihs @euniartsu @satjsstuff @lycorizzz @fushigurosimp @levisbrat1 @bxstboy-tetsu @one-leaf-grimoire @glxar (sorry i just tagged everyone who asked and commented haha, bold means I couldn’t tag you sorry!)

[e1ana]

leisure writing :)

recently by brain has been all AHHHHHHDHHBSGDVJHS BCHJNNH and its really negatively impacted my writing, especially for my fics :( 

i’ve decided to go on a short hiatus for them for a bit to let my brain catch up. i’ve just been writing random stuff and letting it go in a n y direction to give my brain  break and i think??? this might??? be the best?????? decision ive ever made????? my brain just feels so un-fried. its awesome. 

so far it seems to be taking the shape of a YoI fic? idk. I just finished the show for the second time and i absolutely love it! I guess by brain’s been wired on Yuri!!! for a bit now so i’m not surprised at the direction its headed.

i’m still letting it go in any direction though, and i’m not sure if im going to put it up in a03 (i might if i decide i like it, but im not working on it with the intent of uploading it.)

so yeah. here’s the first bit of that. i though i’d upload it on here just bc i can and idk what else to do with it. hope you enjoy :) rating is teen bc of some cursing but thats it

(korkad means stupid in swedish)

Rain.

It wasn’t a loud sound - just the gentle pitter-patter of it against a window can paint a room in a quiet, soothing blanket of white noise. Viktor Nikiforov buries himself further in his comforter. Mid April drizzles really were something else. 

Begrudgingly, VIktor pulls himself from his bed. He looks out of his beside window to find a sunset that perfectly matched with the serene morning rain. 

He yawns and stretches, a soft grumble coming from his lips. He stands up and walks to his kitchen. Every morning is practically the same - wake up, debate going back to sleep, brush teeth/expensive and extensive skincare, eat, and go straight to the rink. Getting up at 7 am might sound overkill, but the lax speed of Viktor’s early morning routine needs extra breathing room.

He drags a hand full of some kind of sweet smelling lotion down his face, massaging it in with the melting pot of other creams and serums. The concoction is thick on his face, though not totally unpleasant. Viktor feels a bit more invigorated now, the cold water startling him up. Nevertheless, he starts the coffee machine. He swings his legs as he sits atop the counter and scrolls through his instagram. A sharp pinch on the cheek startled him from his trance.

“I told you to stop sitting on the counter, korkad. Nobody wants to cook on your ass juice.”

Ah, the overlooked step to the routine - cope with an insufferable roomate at ‘too early’ am.

“Good morning, Chris. I hope you slept well.”

Maybe insufferable wasn’t the right word for Chris normally, but his unrivalled snark and Viktor’s early morning sluggishness were not a fantastic mix. Chris grabs him by the sweatshirt and nearly yanks him off of the marble tabletop. He makes a show of wiping the area where Viktors butt once was. Finally, the sweet sound of gurgling and spluttering signifies the end of the coffee maker’s cycle. 

Viktor pours in a fairly reasonable amount of sweetened cream, the dark brown going caramel colored and scented. He takes a long gulp, downing half the mug in one go. He looks up at Chris, who is now leaning against counter one on arm and glaring. He offers a smile at the glowering man.

“Okay, now you can be a sassy bitch.”

Chris rolls up the towel and flicks it at Viktor’s butt, drawing an undignified squeak from the slightly shorter man. He snorts a laugh, but thankfully gives Viktor his space for the rest of the morning. 

He finishes the rest of his coffee quickly, the caffeine already buzzing through his brain. He checks his watch - nearly time to leave. He packs a few protein bars and water bottles along with his sweets and shirt. He calls out to Chris before grabbing his keys and locking the door. 

He pulls his sweatshirt hood a little tighter around his face, slipping into his freezing cold car. He clicked on the heat, despising how long it took for the damn thing to heat up. 

The drive to the rink was slow today. He wasn’t in any rush, and the slow rain hitting the metal roof of his car made for a nice serenade. He watched the outside pass by slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel absentmindedly. 

When he pulled up to the rink, he noticed two things. One, it was bustling with activity. Usually, the place looked practically deserted at nine in the morning. The swarms of people and clicking cameras were an odd sight. 

Two, a man stands outside of the rink, wringing his wrists. He bites his lips and looks impossibly nervous. He blinks a couple of times before waving his hands frantically at one of the reporters. Viktor can’t help but laugh out loud in the solitude of his car. He pulls into the driveway, eyeing the dark haired man the whole time.

He’s vaguely familiar - Viktor’s sure he’s seen those blue framed glasses sitting on some side bench at some competition somewhere. He isn’t unattractive either. His black hair and brown eyes contrast with the pale skin of his babyish face. It gives him a look of purity. It’s a nice look. Admittedly, it’s aided by the ample blush on his cheeks and the way he rocks from foot to foot nervously. It’s a very cute habit, Viktor’s always thought.

Victor steps out of his car. Maybe he slams his car door a little louder than normal to make some of the reporters turn their heads, maybe he doesn’t. Regardless, they’re hounding on him in seconds, asking about this jump and that score. He answers all of their questions with a blinding smile, hoping that his glance towards the man goes unnoticed. Well, rather, where the man was. The glass door swings violently and Viktor catches his bag disappearing around a corner.

It takes longer than Viktor would've liked to get rid of the reporters and slip into the rink. His tight routine is now skewed fifteen minutes late. He stretches quickly and laces up his skates as quickly as possible to increase his time on the ice. 

He approaches the entrance gate, one foot already on the ice when something whirrs by him. His gaze is captured by none other than the man who was stood outside. 

Immediately, Viktor becomes enraptured with him. All he's doing is skating around the perimeter of the rink. Somehow, though, the swinging strides of his legs and the way his arms lift ever so slightly from the elbows when he glides paint him in the picture of grace. Viktor can’t help but stare as he completes another circle. Finally, when the man passes him a third time, he turns to look at Viktor. The grey haired man’s cheeks heat up under his unsettled gaze.

“Do you need some-”

Red creeps up the neck of the other man, his eyes widening when he realized who he’s talking to. He spins back around and pushes off even faster than before. 

Viktor steps onto the ice, heart pounding. Fuck. Fuuuck. He internally moans at the increasing awkwardness in the air. Damn his annoying fame and prestige! Here he was, embarrassing himself in front of someone he vaguely remembered who could potentially be important and was definitely attractive. Embarrassing himself just by existing. 

Whatever. He flicks his ankle out, starting a slow circle around the rink. If an onlooker glaneed over, it might look like the other man was chasing him. Though it was practically the other way around, Viktor considered. 

Eventually, Viktor felt warm enough to do some actual exercises. A few combination spins, a few brackets. Nothing obscene. He starts his program once he feels his joints ease into the jumps. 

The feeling isn't the same as the first time he did the program. Victory - it was the theme of his piece. Clearly, it’d gotten him where he wanted the first few times. The thrill of first place was incredible. It inspired him so much, the feeling of winning pushing forth his every movement. It had felt so overwhelmingly good. Now, after his fifth medal, the program didn’t mean much. His publicist had pushed him to do the same program every year, if not with a few major improvements each time.

Regardless of how many new spins or complicated jumps he added, the piece was tired. He was bored of this. There was simply no other way to put it. Even as he landed the perfectly executed triple axle that had been worked into his program, Viktor felt his heart sag.

He ran through the program a few more times, each with decreasing vigor. He didn’t even notice the man skate by him (albeit with a wide berth) and exit the rink. Drenched in sweat and disappointment, Viktor literally laid down on the ice. Maybe it wasn’t the most professional move in the book, but the freezing cold felt good on his hot skin. He hummed and got back to his feet, skating one last cool down lap before exiting and sliding on his blade covers.

He took a cold shower. Unusual, but the weight of the day didn't seem like it could just be melted away. He closed his eyes, letting the freezing water run down his body. It soothes is aching muscles and bones. Technically, the hot alternative would be better at melting away the lactic acid in his muscles. He could have a long soak in the tub when he got home, though - the temporary relief of cold water was more than satisfactory for now. 

He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips. The cool air inside of the building almost felt warm in contrast to Viktor’s cold skin. He pulled on a new shirt and pants.

Viktor was surprised to see the other man slinging his bag over his shoulder. He didn’t appear to see the higher ranking skater, ad he sidled to the door without a second glance. Before he stepped out, though, he turned and froze. 

“I… uh…” he paused and looked up, searching for the right words. “I wanted to thank you for earlier. You know. With the reporters. So, uh. Thanks.”

Before Viktor could pipe back with a cheery ‘no problem’ or ‘the pleasure's all mine, tell me your name and let me take you for a drink in my very expensive sports car,’ the man was gone. Viktor followed suit as fast as he could, but there was no catching the man now. Gone, forever.

[justowrite]

Chances and Opportunities(1)

length: 3000 words

summary: 

Baz and Simon could run away, leap across the ocean and still find a way to share a room(even if they don’t do it on purpose). Because how lucky had they been until now? Had leave everything behind but each other(and Penny).

From the outside though, they caught Cath attention because they just...remind her to someone.

triggers/warning: only swearing, for now,

a/n: me? posting after months of creative death by college? more likely than you think.

that summary though...idk i am not sure i love it. but that’s all I got for now.  i’ve had the idea of this crossover for so long...and it’s been a while so i thought it was a good opportunity. anyway, i hope this is fine, and you enjoy the story! Slow start but it’s just the start.

A03

2d part-->

***

“Cath, sweetheart you can’t stalk people.” Cath turned to Levi, he was laughing softly with a shine over his eyes, sitting next to her under the tree.

She wondered if she had the same shine in her eyes if she looked at him the same way he did at her. It took her at least two months to recognize that. She thought that in Levi’s sight everyone was special, in the way he smiled and the way he talked to everyone. It was weird, now she could see that maybe not. Maybe because Wren kept telling her over and over again during the 6 months they’ve been dating.

“Who are they?” Levi finally asked, reaching for Cath’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” He stared at her confused. “I mean, they are freshman. Reagan and I have seen them in the dining hall.”

“So?” He run his hands through his hair and lay back on to the tree(Levy always look like he was laying on something, even if he wasn’t). “You do that a lot.”

“It just that they called my attention,” Cath didn’t really know what she was trying to describe or say. “It’s not important.” She turned her attention to the smiling boy. “How is your day going?”

And that’s all it took for Levi to smile even bigger, she didn’t quite understand yet how that was possible, it was always a surprise when it did. He started talking about something new and exciting he saw in class. So Cath listened, like she always did because from his mouth it did seem exciting.

***

Simon took a deep breath. He had to have the worse luck in the fucking world. He literally flew over the ocean and he had to deal with this shit again. What had he done in his past life to deserve this?

This had to be the epidemy of his bad luck after been left in an orphanage -or maybe that was the start and his whole life was just an extension of that.

Baz turned around, but Simon followed him inside the building.

He thought about living with Penny, and that would’ve been fine. She hadn’t moved in with Micah right away, she wanted to give herself time. Maybe they could’ve have looked for a place between both of their colleges, adapt to use public transportation. Maybe not ideal but fine, he would’ve been with Penny.

Baz…he was less than fine.

“Would you be so kind as to leave me alone, Snow?” Baz snickered, “It’s already enough punishment to have to sleep in the same room with you…again…” He sounded as tired as Simon felt.

They weren’t walking next to each other -because that would break an imaginary rule. Simon was walking behind him, just far enough to not cross that imaginary line in their head, but close enough to hear each other.  “I would if only I didn’t have to go the same place as you.”

“Again.” They announced in perfect unison. They stared each other almost deadly.

Thank goodness they didn’t have classes together. Baz was studying Economy and Simon was only taking general curses, even if Baz had to take them as well he was sure as hell that even for the universes that would’ve been excessive.

***

His first class was English.

Professor Piper was welcoming and funny. “This semester is going to be a learning experience for all us,” She clapped loudly and smiled excited, “You see kids, this is my first year giving this course.” She walked around the room, making eye contact even with the students in the back. Simon wasn’t an exception, he was in the middle. “I’m excited to see all the potential in this class. And maybe just maybe,” She stop walking and smile almost maliciously, “I might see some of you if that’s the path you wish to take, the next semester in my other class.”

But Simon was no longer listening. He was looking at the window by then. Wondering and pondering on the differences between Watford, of London and here. There were trees where there wasn’t before, paths where there weren’t before, people that weren’t before.

Full places, things and people he didn’t know.

Boom.

A hand landed loudly on his table. Making Simon jump in surprise

He looked up to find curious eyes, Simon jumped. “What’s your name sweetie?”

“Simon.” He gulped nervously even when she didn’t sound angry.

“Simon.” She smiled, and stated his name loud and clear, like she was memorizing it, “I am particularly excited to see what worlds you create.”

Her smile was weirdly intimidating like you don’t want let her down. “Why?”

“If you can entertain yourself with what’s on your head, it must be an interesting place.” And with that, she started talking to the class again.

This time Simon tried to focus on her.

***

Simon threw himself onto the bed. It had been only a week, it didn’t quite feel right to call his just yet.

“Why don’t you ask for a change?” He looked at the bed on the other side of the room.

“I don’t know how Penny,” He thought that maybe she would know.

He sighed, and looked around, away from the computer resting on the edge of his bed.  Baz had already put things into their place; Simon had done it a day before Baz came. Their room back at Watford was similar, smaller in size but it’s not like Simon a lot in the first place and Baz was organized enough to fit everything in place. It almost felt like their room back home. Almost.

He returned his attention to Penny. He looked at her sigh, he couldn’t read her expression in the bad quality of the phone but he assumed it was tired. Everyone was tired. “Maybe in administration? Maybe there you can do something about this.”

He didn’t. He thought maybe Baz would do it. He knew Baz hated the situation as much as he did. But Baz didn’t either.

So nothing changed. They worked around the other schedule to be in the room. Fight because Baz would complain about the window and Simon would complain about the damn light at night. Baz would mock him. Simon’s face would feel hot and his face was red, his fist and teeth would clench. Baz would smirk, looking taller and better.

Maybe it didn’t matter that they were across the ocean. Because at the end of the day, he would return to his room and Baz would be there with a sharp tong and smart eyes.

***

BAZ

Baz had taken all the classes you are supposed to take on the first semester (even though most upper years recommended freshmen against that), his schedule was almost full. If he wasn’t in classes he would be studying in the library or the room if Snow had classes. Baz was taking general curses to courses related to his major, which meant lot’s of reading, lots of numbers.

This particular Thursday, he was on his way back from planning a project for his Statistics class. He had gone to Lincoln to do so since his partner lived there and she insisted on it. Baz suspected she didn’t know for which team he played. He was tired and annoyed when he laid eyes on the Starbucks on the way. He was already inside by the time it was a complete thought.

He didn’t usually like this type of places, used to the tea on the dining hall back at Watford but he wasn’t at Watford. He wasn’t in London anymore. He deserved this.

He was still deciding on what to drink when he reached the cashier. “Good afternoon, what can I do for you?” He turned to the guy talking to him. He was smiling too brightly for his bitter-tired-self. “First week?” Baz just nod in slight confusion, “Do you like sweet things?” Baz nodded again, and he finally tried to open his mouth to order but the guy talked first, “Perfect then, I know what to give you.” He declared, smiling even wider. He took out a cup and a sharpie, “Your name?”

“Baz,” Baz didn’t know what was happening; maybe another day in which he wasn’t on the border of fatigue he would have said something but today wasn’t that day. The guy turned around and started preparing his drink. “You aren’t from here right?”

“No, England actually.” The guy looked over his shoulder for a second.

“Yeah…could’ve guessed that one…” What does that mean? “Do you like here?”

Baz thought for a second, “Yeah, it’s a lot freer.” The guy finally turned around with a finished drink in his hand.

“College does that,” He said with a sincerity in his tone, “2 dollars, 50”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Baz half smiled as he paid.

“Enjoy it!” The guy gave him his drink, but Baz wasn’t sure if he was talking about the drink or the advice.

“Thanks.” He simply said.

***

There was a boy in his room.

The wrong boy.

“Who are you?” He looked down at the boy sitting on his desk.

The boy turned up, he had big honey brown eyes, long black eyelashes batting in confusion. “You must be Simon’s roommate.” The boy said after a second.

“Yes.” Baz hadn’t moved from the door, “Who are you?”

“I’m in Simon’s Calculus class.” The boy stood and smiled at Baz, white bright smile against his dark skin(everyone is too happy when you are not). Baz hadn’t thought that Snow would bring his partners to their room.

For fuck’s sake, he had gone to Lincoln to not work in their room.

“Derek, nice to meet you!” Baz just stared at Derek extended hand, Derek followed and realized his mistake. “Oh, yeah…your hands are…yeah…” He noticed the slight color in Derek’s cheeks, but he recovered quickly. “Simon is going be back soon, he just took a pause from explaining to go the bathroom.”

And he left a complete stranger in their room? “Fine.”

Baz was planning to take a nap before, but he wasn’t feeling that tired and now that he remembered he had some reading to do for his History class. Baz walked to his desk(where Derek was so comfortably sitting before), and left the book he had in his hand, took his laptop and the history book.

“Simon told me you are a freshman too, you are in Economics?” Baz didn’t answer, he took a sip of whatever sugary concoction the guy at Starbucks gave him, “I have a friend there too, what a coincidence don’t you think?”

“Fascinating.” With everything at hand, Baz flew out of the room. When he was closing the room again, he stumbled into someone, almost spilling his coffee. “Careful Snow.” He spat, already knowing who it was.

“You were the one that walked into me.” Snow frowned at him.

“I was coming out from our room.” Baz frowned back, “Which by the way you left with a complete stranger inside.”

“I do know him.”

“Oh really?” Baz push his chest out, “What’s his last name?” He dared. Simon opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

***

SIMON.

“Everything okay?” Derek asked as soon as Simon came through the door. Simon didn’t mention the fact that Derek now sat on his desk, not Baz’s

“Yeah, my roommate is just a prick.” Simon declared, walking to the chair next to him in Baz’s desk. He could deal later with consequences, now he was just imagining how angry it would make Baz.

Derek rested his elbow on the desk, and his chin over his palm, “Don’t you have been roommates for like 6 years or something crazy like that?”

“Yeah…” Simon sat abruptly on the chair, Derek's eyes on him, and sighed. “This is the seventh year of him being a prick.” That made Derek laughed, so Simon laughed too. Because it was just that kind of laugh.

“Wow…”

“I know.” He said as the laughter died.

 ***

CATH

“Do you want to be my teaching assistant?” Professor Piper smiled wide and excited.

Cath didn’t expect it.  She opend her mouth to answer, nothing but ahhs and mmms came out.

Professor Piper softened her smile, something that Cath could manage better, but only barely. “I don’t expect you to say yes right away Cath.”

“Okay,” she answered out of habit(the habit of not being to say no to middle age women)

“But I do want you to think about it during the semester.” She lay back on the chair, “I know you struggled last time with my class but you decided to enroll on my advance curse so you must want to write.”

Cath awkwardly smiled. Cath wasn’t completely sure why she did it.  Maybe it was like birth for moms. Her brain released some hormone so she forgot how awful it was the first time. Was that fact even true? Oxytocin? Ceroticin? Serotonin? How was it called?

“I am telling you, you know, because you need an excellent grade in my class to have that opportunity.” She knew that. Nick had told her about it so many months ago(freshman months are different, Levi would remind her). “It’s a great opportunity.”

“I know.”

“I want you to succeed Cath,” She wished Professor Piper encouragement voice didn’t make her feel as if Cath couldn’t let her down.

“I know.”

***

SIMON

Professor Piper run into the room, leaving her stuff on the desk quickly, “I’m sorry guys, I got entertain talking to a student.” She smiled apologetically. “Well let’s not lose any more of your precious time.” She declared walking up to the front of the class, “I hope all of you are not nervous about last time report.” Only a couple of people didn’t hum in agreement. Simon wasn’t one of them. It had been a simple report about a short story, it was interesting enough Simon didn’t have that much trouble reading it.

It was curious. Simon always had a hard time getting things done during high school. It was so weird. He had spent all summer preparing to avoid exactly that. He had seen all the organization videos, all the ADHD tips videos, and articles and adjusted his doses of meds with his doctor before leaving (they agreed on talking by Skype every month for a checkup). It was overwhelming but it seemed to be paying off. Maybe it was because only a week and a half had passed but it seemed to be working all together or maybe because there wasn’t another option. Penny wasn’t there to help him anymore.  

Whichever was the case he was kind of proud of the report, and it sure helpped than when Professor Piper gave him the paper she was smiling hopeful. Finally, he turned to his paper and there it was a red big A+ and a happy face.

Simon had never gotten a happy face before.

Neither, a teacher congratulating him at the end of class.

***

“That’s great Simon!” He felt like a kid telling his mom that he got a good grade a class…which he kind of was doing.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking down the wood of the desk, instead of Penny’s face, “Thanks Pen.”

“And how are the rest of your classes going?” She asked with a soft smile.

“Good, I think…” Simon looked away from the computer for a moment before coming back to Penny’s eyes. “I mean better than before.”

“Not that it’s a hard standard to surpass” Baz interrupted as he closed the door behind him.

“Thank you for that incredible contribution Baz,” Simon stated, rolling his eyes.

“Your welcome” He makes a slight bow, and stops for a moment as he walks behind Simon, “Bunce.” He waves to the computer, almost robotically. No real input or effort. Before finishing his trip to his bed, and throw himself face forwards to it.

“Basilton.” Penny waves back in the same manner, “Talk to you later then?”

Simons nods at her and gives her a fond smile, “Say hi to Micah for me”

“Yeah, same,” Baz says loudly from his bed, muffled by the fact that his face it’s still on the pillow.

“Love you Simon.” She says in between a laugh.

“Love you too Penn.” Simon smiled softly at her.

“I love you too guys,” Baz said sarcastically before Simon manages to end the call.

Simon turned to chair to him, and leans forward. Baz looked tired. “You seem in need of love”

BAZ

“And you are going to give it to me Snow?” Baz never even dreamed Snow would ever say that to him(yeah it dripped sarcasm but it did come out of his mouth either way), neither that he would’ve reacted the way he did.

“You wished.” Baz finally lifted his head from the pillow and turned to see Simon walking to his closet. He could see the slight pink rising on Simon’s cheek.

Baz’s heart skipped a beat, and his lungs held into the air without letting it go, “I don’t know Snow, that sounded like a proposal to me,” He was trying to keep up the tone, control the situation. Or at the very least himself.

Simon was walking out the door already, he stopped. He looked over his shoulder and gave a smug smile before talking. “I think you’ve been alone too long Baz.” And maybe he was too tired, delusional even because Simon Snow just winked at him.