roist-vaz · 1 year ago
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jenscx · 11 months ago
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BET ON IT — ahn yujin x f!reader
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stereotypical jock ahn yujin is given a bet by her friends; take you, one of the smartest students in school, on a date. too bad you’re aware of the bet.
TAGS — literally all fluff, jock!yujin, yuj gets rejected a lot, popular x kinda nerd trope, ice hockey players r so fine, cursing
WORDCOUNT — 4.3k
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when you first stepped into your new class, the tall brunette girl sitting at the back had caught your eye. she was wearing a varsity jacket and on her face adorned a boyish grin.
your cheeks had heated up when she sent a glance your way, and that’s when you realised, you had just found your newest object of infatuation. ahn yujin was just another hallway crush, blending into the crowd of high schoolers and standing out when she passed by your locker. she was eye candy for you and whenever you would see her, your day got significantly better.
once you were more settled in the school, you found out that yujin was unobtainable. way out of your league. a typical jock with a scholarship to an ivy league school. one that cared for neither studies nor academics. her only passion? playing ice hockey and with people’s hearts.
you had realised the latter when passing by a toilet cubicle. the sobs inside were too emotional and excruciating to ignore. despite your best efforts, your fist ended up knocking on the door and you had asked, “are you okay in there?”
inside of the cubicle was a girl, sobbing her eyes out. apparently, ahn yujin had promised to take her out on a date and even invited her back to her house but ended up ditching her. you had frowned, you could never have imagined the puppy-like girl you saw on the first day doing such a thing.
your infatuation for her slowly disappeared as you heard more and more stories of the atrocious things she would do to people. stomping on flowers, laughing at confessions and spreading rumours about people. ahn yujin was an asshole and a jerk. unfortunately she was an attractive one.
“y/n,” jiwon whispers, “is the answer x equals to negative five?”
you look up from your worksheet, for which you had doodled ahn yujin’s familiar smirk and quickly covered it.
“no. my answer is positive five. i think you made a mistake in the quadratic formula,” you explain, taking a peek at jiwon’s working. jiwon frowns and a shadow appears next to your desk.
the shadow actually startles you slightly. since the end of year examinations were nearing, lessons meant for teaching content were swapped to self-study sessions. normally, not a single person would move around, in fear of jeopardising their grades to fool around with friends.
thus, you were extremely confused as to why ahn yujin stood next to your table, eyes crinkling in a smile.
“hi,” she says, “i wanted to ask, how did you get a positive five for your answer?”
you can only stare at her in shock. due to her scholarship being on the line, you had thought yujin would have the top students tutoring her, as she had to keep an average of 70% for every semester.
so why was she talking to you now? wasn’t jang wonyoung a better option to ask?
“uhm, i think you forgot to…” you stare at her worksheet, “times 2 to the denominator.”
yujin’s eyes widen and you can’t lie that it’s adorable. jiwon shifts next to you nervously and you place a hand over hers, comforting her nerves.
“thanks! i owe you one!”
“oh… there’s no need…”
before you can even complete your sentence, she bounces back to her seat and smiles brightly at you. a quick whip of your head faces you with jiwon.
“did ahn yujin just talk to you?” she mumbles.
you rub the back of your neck, “i guess she did.”
for the first time in three years, you felt your feelings of infatuation resurface. ahn yujin, the girl at the top of your school’s social pyramid, just talked to you? and looked adorable while doing it?
and what does she mean by ‘she owes you’?
you just hoped it wouldn’t interfere with your studies. yujin was an enigma, one that would need countless hours of observation and detailed assessments to figure out her true colours. was her playboy act all a facade? or was this nice and cute classmate that you had actually just another one of her acting personalities to get what she wanted?
there were so many questions in your head that you didn’t even notice the bell ringing.
jiwon pulls you up and links your arms together, flashing a smile which snaps you out of your daydream.
“let’s go meet rei,” she says. you nod in agreement and let yourself be pulled all the way to the cafeteria. only at the table, you realise that you had left your phone back in the classroom.
rei had soon joined the table and you stood up abruptly.
“i left my phone in class, i’ll be back soon!” you inform your friends who wave you off. a quick few steps and you had arrived back at the classroom. notably, it was empty as students had all crammed to the cafeteria for a quick break before going back into revision.
except for the trio that sat at the back.
you raise your eyebrows and instantly recognise the smirk and brown hair of ahn yujin. she had kim gaeul and jang wonyoung sitting beside her, both of which had questioning looks on their face.
without much thought, you were planning to just walk in and take your phone swiftly. yet, the mutter of your name had made you pause in your steps.
“what was that with y/n during class?” wonyoung asks, head tilting in curiosity.
“what was what?”
gaeul scoffs, “you definitely knew how to do that question.”
“hm, did i? didn’t i look more like a stupid jock just needing assistance from one of the top scorers?” yujin laughs.
“you literally have me, the actual top scorer. y/n isn’t so stupid to buy your whole act. she’s actually a challenge,” wonyoung says. despite them discussing your intelligence in the open, you felt pride simmer at wonyoung thinking you were too smart to fall for yujin’s tricks.
“watch me.”
“okay… if she agrees on a date by the end of this month,” gaeul picks at her fingernails, “lunch is on me for the rest of the year.”
yujin chuckles, “it’ll be too easy.”
“and don’t fall for her,” wonyoung adds.
“still easy. this will be the easiest bet of my life.”
you hear the chair scraping against the floor afterwards. still debating on whether to retrieve your phone, you decide to ponder on what the bet entailed for you.
so one, yujin was definitely still a jerk. two, you would have to agree to a date by the end of the month for her to win. and three, she had no idea that you knew of this secret agreement.
huh.
you smile, finally having the upper hand over yujin for once. maybe this bet would teach yujin a lesson and help you live out your young fantasies.
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“y/n!” you almost instinctively start to walk faster at the sound of yujin’s voice. all eyes turned to look at you and jiwon’s grip on your wrist tightened.
“good morning,” you nod. in one hand, a chocolate milk carton and in the other, a chemistry textbook.
yujin smiles sheepishly at you, “i was wondering… were you free this afternoon to tutor me in chemistry? i heard you were the top student of our year—”
“i’m not. wonyoung is,” you reply firmly. yujin falters for a second before bouncing back, “she isn’t free today since she has student council duties. i already tried asking her!”
if you didn’t know about the bet, you genuinely would have believed her convincing act.
“ah, well, i’m not free today.”
“oh? why?”
you gesture to jiwon, “going on a date!”
at that point, you hadn’t realised the impact of your words. those four words changed the trajectory of your life.
“d-date?!” yujin gapes.
you thought she looked like a fish. meanwhile, jiwon was desperately trying to drag you away from the crowd that was forming to witness ahn yujin being rejected.
“yup. so i can’t help you,” you say and wave goodbye to yujin, who stays rooted to the ground, almost jaw-dropped. truly, this was amusing. her reaction was terribly funny, considering that she had never once in her life been rejected before. and for you to be the one to do so? amazing.
yet, jiwon didn’t find it funny and began cursing you for ruining her school year. once word got out that her best friend was the one who rejected yujin, she would not be able to live a peaceful life.
this cycle of rejection only continued despite jiwon’s attempts to hide you from yujin. the requests ranged from, “can you help me with calculus?” to, “there was a new tteokbokki store that opened near school, wanna go together?”
you soon realised that yujin was determined to win this bet. with the countless amount of sweet post-it notes taped to chocolate milk cartons that appeared on your desk every morning… how could you not?
yujin had willpower, you acknowledged that fact. it was just a shame that you had overheard the conversation. maybe she would have actually won the bet by now.
while you were gloating about yujin’s loss, the jock was almost heartbroken with the number of futile attempts.
“she just isn’t falling for it!” yujin exclaims.
wonyoung raises an eyebrow, “i told you she isn’t that stupid. and your methods are so lame.”
“i thought they were cute,” yujin sniffles, pouting. the mere thought of her not being able to persuade a girl was devastating. this would mess up her reputation! she wasn’t the one who chased others!
“you’re not winning this bet,” gaeul states, snickering at yujin’s misfortune.
yujin, despite their claims, was still persistent in trying to get a date. it didn’t matter what she needed to do, she would do it. anything to win this bet.
she couldn’t lose her hard-built reputation as a heartbreaker. that was crazy. if she had to get down on her knees to beg…
well yujin might just consider it.
unbeknownst to the things yujin would do for a date with you, you walk with jiwon peacefully, almost reaching the front gate when your best friend halts.
“ah,” jiwon says out of the blue, “I can’t go home with you today. i need to show the new exchange students around school.” you frown but nodded anyway.
“i’ll see you tomorrow then?” you ask. jiwon sends a smile and quickly walks back to the school doors. you sigh, taking out your airpods when a tap on your shoulder spins you around.
ahn yujin again.
“hi,” she flashes a grin, “mind if i walk with you?”
“don’t you normally go that way?” you point in the opposite direction. yujin turns her head and laughs, “so you’ve been observing me?”
you think for a moment. “no, but your fanclub is waiting there for you.”
like you said, a group of girls and boys alike were standing at the other gate, eyes darting around for yujin. she tilts her head, reminiscent of your puppy back at home, and says, “i’m walking this way so i don’t get bombarded by them.”
“fair enough,” you take out your airpods again and try to drown out yujin’s attempts at conversation.
“hey!” she continuously taps you on the shoulder. you ignore her.
“don’t ignore me!” you do that.
“y/n-ssi..!”
ugh. you think. who the hell said that yujin was like a puppy? (you.) she was more like a parrot that couldn’t shut up.
“yujin-ssi,” you huff, “keep quiet.”
said girl just turns to you with a pout. eyes glistening with hope when you falter ever so slightly. with a sigh, you take out your airpods and raise an eyebrow.
“okay, i won’t ignore you anymore.”
“great! i was wondering,” yujin pauses, a hint of hesitation in her voice that you’ve never heard before, “do you wanna grab lunch together? wonyoung heard from jiwon that you liked the cafe nearby, i’ll pay.”
your voice wavers, “uh, sure.” no one could blame you; your favourite cafe paired with a free meal? anyone would have accepted (regardless of the puppy-like girl who shrieked in excitement).
“great!” yujin discreetly grabs your wrist, pulling you to walk faster. slightly taken aback, you willingly let yourself be pulled away.
on the way there, the typically chirpy yujin doesn’t say a word and instead keeps quiet. it’s only until you both find a seat in the cafe that she speaks up.
“y/n-ssi, do you hate me or something?” you watch as the jock twirls the fork in her hand, eyes gleaming with curiosity. perhaps she’s never experienced being rejected before.
“you’re just too much for me.”
“oh? what do you mean by that?”
you choose your next words wisely, “it’s a bit strange to have someone popular talk to someone so mediocre.”
yujin’s head snaps up, fury in her eyes. you think she’s about to storm out, offended by your words. yet, she grasps your hands into hers, passionately saying, “how could you be mediocre?! y/n-ssi, you’re like the most intelligent person in our grade, and you’re super nice and helpful too!”
you feel relieved. her outburst was just defending you. giggles escape your lips as you reply back, “nice and helpful? after rejecting you so often?”
the sight of yujin’s cheeks being flushed makes you marvel. it’s a rare sight to see the jock so flustered. she’s usually so composed and witty.
“ah… i was a bit insistent and annoying, i understand why y/n-ssi avoided me…” yujin mumbles shyly, letting your hands drop onto the table. your hands feel cold without yujin’s warmth but you quickly diminish that thought.
stop it, yujin is just playing with you.
you straighten up naturally, catching yourself before replying with anything flirty. you had to remember that yujin’s primary reason for talking to you was because of the bet.
unfortunately for you, yujin notices your change in demeanour.
“are you okay?”
“yeah,” you eye her carefully, “i’m just hungry.”
yujin sends you a toothy grin and starts another conversation. you end up talking about her puppy, azzo, her ice hockey training and your art portfolio before the food arrives. you realise even though ahn yujin was a stereotypical jock, she was probably smarter than most.
“y/n-ssi, can i call you unnie?”
you raise your eyebrow, “how do you know my birthday?”
yujin looks startled. frazzled, she quickly replies, “i just asked wonyoung… she’s close friends with jiwon…!”
“doing background checks on me?” you say, stuffing your mouth with the red velvet cake in front of you.
“no… maybe, yes? i was just curious!”
“you just want to talk informally, don’t you, yujin?”
the jock bows her head down, you hate how you find it cute.
“yeah… you caught me.”
you smile, “okay, you can call me unnie.”
it’s like yujin just won the lottery with the way she’s grinning. you would tease her even more but it’s better not to get attached to her.
after this month, she wouldn’t even bat an eye at you.
soon, you finish up your cake and yujin does too. when paying, you sense yujin’s impatience and chalk it off to being her realising that you wouldn’t wield so easily. shrugging it off, you try your best to make a quick exit before yujin drags you to somewhere else again.
after paying, you swiftly leave the cafe, only to be caught in yujin’s grasp again.
“unnie, can we exchange contact info?” her eyes are shining now. you hesitantly nod and hand her your phone.
yujin 🐶 [4.38pm]:
yn unnie! ^^
“there! i sent you a message,” yujin exclaims, “where’s your house? i’ll walk you home!”
“huh?! no… yujin, you should go home, i can walk by myself…”
the puppy-like girl only pouts. you’re mostly helpless to her, unable to really say no to a face like hers.
“unnie, i need to know if you reached home safely! bad guys would obviously kidnap a girl as pretty as you!” yujin scoffs. you try to hide your blush as you finally nod again.
yujin brightens up and takes your hand into hers, “let’s go!”
you feel bad for the younger girl; she was usually the one who played with other people’s feelings and now, she didn’t even realise that she’s the one getting played with. you wonder if yujin has ever seen the aftermath of her entertainment. would she be shocked that she caused someone so much pain? or would she just laugh?
the closer you got to your doorstep, the more you didn’t want to leave yujin. fuck, you think, that’s a bad sign.
how did yujin manage to attract you in only a day?
what the hell type of sorcery was she using?
“thank you for walking me home,” you bow, “send me a text when you get home too.” yujin nods but she stares at you expectantly. maybe she wanted you to invite her into your house?
that wasn’t going to happen though.
“uhm,” you mumble unintelligently. not even giving it a second thought, you quickly plant a kiss on yujin’s cheek and run into your house, slamming the door behind you.
what the fuck! you and yujin both think, your hand covering your mouth, shocked that you even did that. meanwhile, yujin traces the outline of your lips on her cheek with her fingertips, her face resembling a tomato the longer she stands outside your door.
yujin 🐶 [5.02pm]:
unnie…? ㅠㅠ
yn unnie 🤍 [5.03pm]:
IM SINSORYR
I DID IT WITHOUT THINKJNG
yujin 🐶 [5.03pm]:
ure too mean…
kissing me then slamming the door
yn unnie 🤍 [5.03pm]:
im sorry yuj
yujin 🐶 [5.04pm]:
ur lips r so soft tho?
do u use the laniege lip mask? ㅋㅋ
yn unnie 🤍 [5.04pm]:
what are u saying…
go home…
yujin 🐶 [5.04pm]:
yes ma’am!
( ̄^ ̄)ゞ
ah fuck, you flop onto the couch, cheeks aflame, ahn yujin, i think you’re winning that bet.
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it’s an early morning, gaeul hums happily, bathing in the sunlight. sometimes she’s glad that she has the window seat, when the sun rises and sets, she gets to watch it all. other times she’s not so grateful. like when it rains heavily and the raindrops splash at her.
life is great—
“yah, kim gaeul.”
the girl opens her eyes, facing an irritating sight; an ashamed ahn yujin. she only looked like that when her suitors yell at her, or when her mother nags her for her grades.
having known yujin for years, it was probably the former.
“which girl was it now?” gaeul huffs.
“y/n unnie.”
gaeul almost falls off her chair, did yujin win the bet? already worrying about her pocket money for the year, gaeul ignores everything yujin says, not until she hears, “i want to call the bet off.”
“what?!” she shrieks, “she didn’t agree to a date?”
yujin shakes her head, deflated but not for the reasons you’d imagine.
“i didn’t ask her on one,” she explains, “because… it didn’t feel right to do something so reckless.”
gaeul widens her eyes, naturally gesturing for yujin to continue. how could something like asking a girl on a date scare yujin? it was second nature to her at this point!
“asking y/n unnie on a date…” yujin’s gaze feels dreamy now and gaeul thinks she’s staring at a different person, “ah… it feels wrong to do it now..?”
“why? you wanted to win the bet though?”
yujin’s gaze hardens, “the bet isn’t as important as her.”
“y-yujin?! you’re saying that…”
“gaeul unnie, i like y/n.”
there’s no need to further explain. ahn yujin, the typical high school jock, falling for a girl that she only talked to for her own entertainment. how did she even manage to fall for you? yujin doesn’t know it herself. maybe it was after that day at the cafe, when you actually showed interest in her life. maybe it was the many online conversations you had with her, talking about mundane things. maybe it was the first day you locked eyes, yujin subconsciously always kept an eye on you afterwards.
or maybe it was all of that combined.
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you tap your feet nervously on the bench. after you had kissed yujin’s cheek, she always brought it up, genuinely asking why your lips were so soft or even boldly declaring that she wanted another. maybe because it was rare for you to be so affectionate. even with jiwon and rei, skinship wasn’t so common. honestly, you weren’t sure what you were even doing with yujin. after many midnight conversations, you would consider you two friends. or perhaps even close friends.
yujin had forced you to wait for her to finish practice so she could walk you home. it was almost a routine at that point. there was some speculation of you two dating and you could imagine how happy that made yujin feel. yet mysteriously, yujin hadn’t made any super flirtatious advancements on you. the month was ending soon and the bet would end in her loss. so why wasn’t she doing anything? (not that you wanted her to do anything).
“y/n,” you turn your head. why on earth was kim gaeul and jang wonyoung staring at you from behind?
“yes…?”
the two girls glance at each other and rush up to you. you were currently standing outside yujin’s ice rink, watching her play hockey with her teammates. sometimes while playing a game, she would score and send you a wink. even through the helmet, you could see her mouth, ‘this is for you!’ it was embarrassing and cheesy but you still ended up flustered, covering your red face with your hair.
“we have something we need to tell you,” wonyoung starts off.
gaeul nods earnestly, “we’re very sorry but…”
you realise where this is going.
“ah, is this about the bet you guys and yujin made about me?”
wonyoung and gaeul both have their mouths agape, eyebrows furrowed. you almost laugh at their reaction.
“h-how did you know?!”
“i overheard you guys that day, i was going to get my phone but then i heard my name. sorry for eavesdropping.”
“no! we should be sorry for making that bet! but, if you already knew about it, why are you still hanging out with yujin?” wonyoung asks.
you chuckle, “i just wanted to see what she was planning to do. it was plain curiosity.”
“ah! but yujin likes you!” gaeul blurts out.
huh…?
“what?!”
“yeah! she told me a few days ago, that’s why she called the bet off,” the girl says. wonyoung groans, muttering about how gaeul shouldn’t have revealed that.
you absentmindedly say, “i like her too…”
the subject of your conversation immediately butts in, “you like who?”
you instantly clamp your mouth shut, heartbeat in your ears as you turn to face yujin. luckily you weren’t so out of it yet, if you were, you wouldn’t be able to control blurting out how handsome yujin looked in her gear. even brushing the ice off her jersey looked attractive to you.
“gaeul unnie, isn’t it time for us to leave?” wonyoung briskly drags gaeul out of the ice rink, leaving just you and yujin inside.
“aren’t you going to change?” you ask, facing a different direction from the jock before she manages to fluster you.
“i saw my two idiot friends talking to you, so i came here first,” she says, plopping down on the bench too.
“what were you guys even talking about?”
“oh… we were, uhm,” you stare at your lap, on top, your fingers playing with each other.
yujin senses you hesitate and places a hand on top of yours, holding it tightly.
“talking about… the bet you made about me,” you gulp, anticipating a huge, overblown reaction. you close your eyes but you don’t hear anything from yujin.
the silence begins to become worrying and you open your eyes, only to see yujin barely breathing, her eyes blown open and a pale face.
“unnie, i’m so sorr—”
“i’m not mad!” you quickly say, “i sort of had a crush on you on the first day of school, so having you interested in me, regardless of the bet, i mean, it made me feel good.”
“you had a crush on me?” yujin questions.
“yeah? like a hallway crush.”
“you’re seriously not mad about the bet?”
you shrug, “i was at first. but then your friends told me something.”
the girl’s body becomes stiff, more stiff than when you told her about your knowledge of the bet.
“they told me you like me, that’s what we were talking about before you came over,” you turn to her, “yujin-ah, is it true?”
yujin nods shyly.
“they’re so annoying… i wanted to have this cool confession but, ugh, unnie, i really wasn’t expecting myself to like you. is it crazy to say i’m happy that i made that bet? because it let me become closer to you?”
“yujin, before i accept your confession…” her eyes light up again, “can you tell me why you treated all those girls like that?”
“you mean…”
“you played with their hearts, how can i be sure that you won’t play with mine?” you ask.
yujin sighs, “honestly, i don’t know either but unnie, i need you to trust me that i like you a lot. i like you so much that i don’t know how to live through a day without thinking about you. everytime i experience something, i want to share it with you. please let me show my love for you.”
love… you smile, gently removing yujin’s helmet.
“you’re already thinking about love?”
yujin’s hair is unkempt, her bangs are swept messily, blocking her eyes slightly. yet, you can still see the whole galaxy in her eyes.
reaching out for her jaw, you pull her closer.
“ahn yujin, if you ever play with me, you’re dead.”
your lips are almost touching and you can feel her breath. almost panting already, yujin breathes out.
“there’s no point living if you’re not by my side.”
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rubytuby · 3 months ago
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surprise
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patrick zweig x fem!reader 
word count: 3.3k (LOL)
warnings: established relationship with patrick because i'm lazy, art is your best friend, mentions of getting drunk but it's college so like to be expected… also allusions to sex haha but um i just love to write a cutesy plot.
note: i am normal about patrick zweig, i feel so normal about him #needthat. jokes, but i am in love with him its so bad, i wish he was real. also please don't be offended by my tashi erasure, still love her, but she didn't exactly fit in here. obv this is not canon bc you're dating patrick in stanford era instead of tashi, anyways, hope you enjoy <3.
FEBRUARY 23 2007, STANFORD
The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the tennis courts as you and Art wrapped up your practice session. Both of you were drenched in sweat, Art slung his tennis bag over his shoulder and jogged over, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin.
“So uh, want to walk back to the dorms together?” he asked, sounding overly eager.
You squinted at him, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Sure, but I need to shower first. You know, make it seem like I haven’t been pushed to my physical limits,” you said, gesturing to your sweaty attire.
Art laughed. “You have a single, why don't you just wait until you get back to your dorm?”
You groaned, shoving your racket into your bag. “That's the problem. The maintenance guy showed up at 7:30 this morning to tell us they’re shutting off the water from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. only on my floor for some urgent plumbing issue.”
“Damn, that sucks. Are they even allowed to do that without giving anyone notice?”
“That's what I asked, but apparently, giving us 30 minutes notice is considered adequate. So, technically, they can,” you replied, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I’ll be quick, though. Just need to rinse off. If you don’t wanna wait for me to chill, you can walk back to the dorms. I won’t be offended.”
Art shook his head. “I’ve got time, I’ll wait. I’ve gotta call someone anyways,” he said plopping down the bench and pulling out his phone.
“Alright weirdo, if you’re sure,” you said, dropping your tote bag next to him. “I’ll be super quick.” With that, you darted off to the girls' locker room.
As soon as you disappeared, Art pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick’s number. The phone barely rang before Patrick answered, his voice tense with impatience.
“Are you guys on the fucking way yet or am I going to have to wait longer?”
“Hello, sunshine!” Art greeted cheerily. “Your beloved is taking a quick shower. We’ll be there in about 25 to 30 minutes.”
Patrick groaned loudly. “Why didn’t you just tell her to shower in her dorm? I’ll lick the sweat off her if it means not waiting any longer.”
Art grimaced at his best friend’s comment. “The water’s out on her floor. She said she’s literally only rinsing off and changing. Just be patient. I’ll text you when to leave so we can time it perfectly.” A sigh rang out on the other line.
“If this plan doesn’t work and I’ve been hiding from my girlfriend for a couple hours for no reason, I’m going to seriously hurt you,” Patrick grumbled, staring out Art’s dorm window.
“Well she definitely thinks you're in New York visiting your parents,” Art paused, “I just had to talk her down from buying a plane ticket, so I think we’re good.”
“I told her I just got into the city a couple hours ago when I actually got to SFO. She was so upset yesterday when I said it’d be five days until we saw each other. She called me a fucking asshole, so I dont know what to do anymore.” Patrick said as he flopped onto Arts bed.
Art scribbled on his worksheet, humming in response. “Well, at least you know that she definitely misses you.”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure if she misses me or just wants to slap me in the face,” Patrick replied, exasperated.
Just then, Art saw you coming out of the locker room, chatting with one of your friends on the team. “Hopefully not the latter. Anyway she’s out. See you at 15. Don’t be late,” Art said flatly before hanging up, knowing Patrick and his unfortunate untimeliness. 
Art smiled up at you as you approached. “Who was that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.
“Our shared lover,” Art replied with a laugh, haphazardly shoving his worksheet and phone into his bag as he stood up.
“Aww, any exciting updates from Pat? He still stuck with his parents for another five days?” you teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.
“He just got to the city. He mentioned playing on the East River courts and paying someone to hold a spot for him,” Art lied smoothly.
“Sounds about right,” you said, sighing. “Anyway, I was talking to Nathalie over there…” you squinted, linking arms with Art as the two of you started the walk back to your dorm. “She mentioned a frat party happening tonight. Since Patrick’s trapped in New York, I figured why not go?”
“There’s going to be a keg stand, a ton of alcohol, and some shitty DJ or something,” you added, glancing at a group of students touring the campus before turning back to Art.
Art nodded, slightly wincing at the mention of the keg stand. “Wow, sounds like a lot of fun,” he replied sarcastically, earning a nod of agreement from you.
“I was planning on skipping it, but Nathalie really wants me to go. I thought if you came with me, it might actually be fun. Better than wallowing in my room wishing Patrick was here,” you admitted, biting your lip.
"Well, we had fun at that party last Friday, you remember right?" Art asked, smirking.
"Remember is a strong word," you replied, shaking your head with a laugh. "I think I have bits and pieces from that night. I do remember waking up still drunk at noon with my t-shirt on backwards and you snoring next to me in bed. Also like 5 missed calls from Patrick."
Art flashed you a lopsided grin. "Well, your bed's comfy, but I thought I was going to roll off in the middle of the night."
"Well, I stayed in my corner, I was flush against the wall as you were all sprawled out making yourself at home on my bed," you teased, nudging him playfully.
As you approached your dorm building, you noticed Art’s phone buzz. He glanced at it quickly, fumbling to put it away as a smile grew on his face. “What’s with the grin, weirdo?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.
“Oh, nothing. Just a funny text,” Art replied too quickly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”
“Who, me? Who said I’m lying, I’m the picture of innocence,” Art said defensively.
You shook your head. “Sure you are. Anyway, I think I’m gonna drop my stuff on the floor, crawl into bed, and maybe take a nap. Maybe we can think about that party, I can call you at 11 so we can pregame.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Art said with a nod. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
You smiled gratefully as the two of you ascended the stairs to your floor. Art talked animatedly about his plans for the weekend while you half-listened, preoccupied with thoughts of collapsing onto your bed and taking a deserved long nap.
"Yeah anyways, I'm thinking of catching up on some studying, this english class is kicking my ass," Art continued, unaware of your drifting attention. "Maybe I’ll go on a run later though. You could join me if you wanted, if you’re up."
"Maybe," you replied absentmindedly, reaching a hand into your tote bag sifting for your keys.
As you reached your door, frustrated with your bag, you dropped your tennis bag and lifted your whole tote up, practically sticking your face in it to find your keys. "I hate these fucking tote bags, I can’t find shit," you grumbled to Art, feeling a tap on your shoulder.
Startled, you turned around with a scowl— until you saw Patrick standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. "Patrick! What the fuck? What are you doing here-” you exclaimed, letting your tote bag fall to the floor and throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.
Patrick laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "Surprise" he exclaimed, holding you close, smiling at Art over your shoulder.
You pulled back slightly, giving him an incredulous look. "You asshole! Trapped in New York with my parents, my ass!" you shook your head, playfully hitting him on the chest.
Patrick held his chest dramatically and leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "All part of the plan," he murmured. “Plus, I had a little help," he added, nodding towards Art, who was standing nearby with a smug expression.
You turned in Patrick's arms to face Art, scoffing in shock. "Art, you were in on this? You’re such a liar," you exclaimed.
Art shrugged. "Hey, I was just hosting him at my dorm while we were at practice. Technically, I didn’t lie—I just omitted a few details," he explained, grinning.
"How could you do this to me? Traitor!" you said dramatically, though a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.
Patrick wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer against him and resting his head on your shoulder. "Come on. You know it was worth it," he said, his tone teasing.
You sighed playfully, shaking your head at the pair of them. "I guess I can forgive you both this time," you conceded.
Patrick’s hand gently brushed through your hair as he settled his head into the curve of your neck. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me,” he said softly.
As you lingered in Patrick's embrace, you paused. "Wait, where's all your stuff?" you asked, pulling back slightly and turning to look up at him.
Patrick grinned, nodding towards your door. "In your dorm," he replied casually.
“Wow, Breaking and entering," you quipped, crossing your arms squinting at Art.
Art interjected with a laugh, "Actually, perfectly legal entering. You're the one who gave me a spare key."
You shook your head, "That's for emergencies, Art," you retorted, shooting him a mock glare.
Patrick turned you around to face him, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. "Come on, admit it, you're impressed," he teased.
You sighed, "I'm shocked you guys were able to pull this off, honestly," you admitted, shaking your head with amusement. Patrick laughed softly, rubbing your back soothingly.
Reluctantly pulling away from Patrick's arms, you grabbed your tote bag from the floor, turning to face Art and Patrick. "As much as this hallway talk is very exciting, I seriously need to find my keys. I'm exhausted," you declared half-joking.
After a brief search through your bag, you finally located your keys nestled among your belongings. Patrick picked up your tennis bag with a playful grin, indicating his readiness to follow you inside.
"Alright, Art, thank you," Patrick called out over his shoulder as you unlocked the door.
Art waved casually. "Have fun, be safe you two. I'll see you later," he replied as he walked down the hallway.
As the two of you entered your dorm room, you barely had enough time to place your bags on the floor before Patrick closed the gap between you and him and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands pulled you against him as he pressed your back against the door, placing his hands on either side of you almost boxing you in. His kisses were sloppy, teeth colliding as his lips moved against yours, hands desperately roaming your body, as if he couldn't get close enough to you.
You responded eagerly, melting into his embrace, your own hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his tongue tracing your lower lip, hands roaming over your back, then up to cradle your face, pushing strands of hair away as he deepened the kiss.
"Patrick," you managed to gasp between kisses, your chest rising and falling with each breath. "I... I need to put my stuff away," you painted, reluctantly pulling back
Patrick leaned back, a mischievous smirk on his face, moving over to lean against your desk. "Sure," he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you took out some things from your bag. "So, how was practice?" he asked, his voice low, as he looked you up and down.
You scoffed, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as you organized. "Heinous. I keep getting paired with this girl on the team who can't return any of my serves," you replied exasperatedly, glancing over at him.
Patrick raised an eyebrow, "maybe you should just go easy on her."
You shook your head, clicking your tongue in frustration. "I've tried to go easy on her, but she can't even play me when I do that. She acts like it's my fault she can't play for shit," you paused to sigh.
Patrick grinned, tracing a hand up and down your arm. "We both know you're too good for stanford women's tennis," he murmured, moving from the desk to stand behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips and giving them a quick squeeze.
You whipped your head around, rolling your eyes and scoffing at his comment. "Careful," you say firmly.
Patrick put his hands up in mock surrender, his cocky grin never faltering. "Alright, alright. Sorry, my bad," he said. "You're right."
As an unspoken apology, Patrick moved closer, his hands gently moving up to your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck softly. His lips left a warm trail on your skin, "I missed you," he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “So much.”
You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access, closing your eyes briefly to savor the sensation. "I missed you too," you hummed, your voice softening as you turned to face him fully. Your hands came to rest on his chest. "You know, I wish you would’ve just told me you were coming," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.
Patrick's playful demeanor softened as he gazed into your eyes, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Sorry again," he murmured sincerely, his breath mingling with yours. "Do you still love me?" he asked, clearly teasing and testing you.
You couldn't help but smile, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. "I still love you, even with your elaborate lies," you replied, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I have to say I knew something was up. Art was being weirder than normal."
Patrick hummed, his hands gently caressing your sides as he leaned in for another kiss.
"Hey? Are you even listening to me?" you asked, blinking up at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.
Patrick paused, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. "Sorry, what did you say? I was a little distracted," he said, smiling.
You laughed softly, giving him a light shove. “I said Art was acting weirder than normal. I could tell he was hiding something.”
He shook his head and grinned, suddenly, he scooped you up over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised laugh from you as he carried you to the bed. Playfully flopping you down, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.
"So, what's our plan for tonight?" he asked between kisses, his fingers tracing light patterns on your sides.
You sighed softly, your words catching in your throat as his kisses became more fervent. "Well, there's this party my friend invited me to," you managed to say, struggling to speak coherently. "But last time I went out with Art, it was a shit show," you paused, trying to focus as his lips trailed down your collarbone, "but you're here, so we can do… whatever you want," you finally managed to say, your voice breathless with desire.
"Can we?" Patrick teased, his tone dripping with innuendo, his kisses becoming more urgent and needy.
You sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. "You know, you're impossible," you muttered, shaking your head. "But yes, we can."
Patrick grinned triumphantly, his hands roaming over your body as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hunger for you evident in every touch and movement. "Good," he murmured against your lips. "I think I just want you to be myself tonight."
"Freaky," you quipped, biting your tongue to hide a laugh.
With a self-assured grin, Patrick swiftly removed his T-shirt, revealing his lean and tan body. His gaze never left yours as he leaned back in, his lips finding yours with intensity. Your fingers traced lightly over his chest as you meshed together, and through kisses, you opened your eyes for a moment, gaze fixed on the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.
"You've got more freckles," you observed with a playful smile, pulling back slightly, teasingly tracing each tiny mark with your fingertip.
Patrick grinned warmly, his eyes crinkling as he removed his lips from yours pulling you into a tight hug. "You're so cute," he murmured, squeezing you against him. His hands gently moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you closer, lips looking for another kiss with a soft sigh of contentment slipping out. His gaze, filled with adoration and longing, locked onto yours, silently expressing his deep affection.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe. You locked eyes with him, your own expression softening as you smiled, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.
Without breaking eye contact, Patrick's hands moved to the hem of your T-shirt, his touch almost insistent. He lifted the fabric, exposing your skin to the cool air and his heated gaze, with the T-shirt slipped over your head and thrown to the floor, forgotten. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the sight of you, bare-chested in front of him, a cheeky grin began to spread across his face. 
You rolled your eyes, whacking his arm. "Are you 13?" you teased.
Patrick laughed, unfazed as his hands and mouth roamed your newly exposed skin, his lips moving back to your collarbone, placing soft kisses along its length. Your remaining clothes were shed in a flurry, falling to the floor as you both moved with urgency desperately reconnecting.
Finally, as your kisses slowed and the two of you were breathing somewhat heavily, you rolled onto him, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.
"I love you," Patrick murmured softly, placing a lovingly sweet kiss onto your forehead.
You met his gaze with a soft smile. "Is that just because we had incredible reunion sex?" you teased lightly, a playful challenge in your voice. "Or do you love me all the time?"
Patrick laughed, his fingers moving up and down on your back. "Only for the sex, it's usually worth the plane ticket," he teased back, with a smile. "Just kidding. I love you all the time," he replied earnestly, as a grin started forming on his face.
Leaning up from his chest, you pressed a sloppy kiss against his mouth, your hands tangling into his hair as you felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile against yours. "I knew it," you murmured against his lips, a hint of amusement in your voice.
"Say it back," Patrick urged with a playful grin, attempting to deepen the kiss, but you playfully pulled away before he could capture your lips again.
Rolling your eyes theatrically, you feigned annoyance, though your smile betrayed your true feelings. "Fine," you replied, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I love you too, freak."
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genshin-scenarios · 1 month ago
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I NEED spiderverse Lyney to be continued
I was wondering if you would make a part two or ask for your permission to use the idea for a fanfic. Villain x hero is my favourite trope, and I just can't get it out of my head. It's become a hyperfixation, and I feel like I'm going to combust
Hello!! I do plan on doing a part 2 for all the spiderverse headcanons later on, but below is just some additional content for Lyney! 🎩🌹 In terms of using my idea: unfortunately I'm not comfortable with people using my specific writing/AUs to create their own fics! Thank you so much for asking beforehand though - and I will say that while I don't allow the reusing of my specific works/AUs, you're more than welcome to create your own version of a spiderverse AU with Lyney! 🥹 or if this specific AU has a grip on you, feel free to drop in my inbox again and I will do my best to give more brainworms 🙏
callout - spiderverse! lyney x reader
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The Phantom Twins are up to something, and it seems that the only clue you have to what it is, is a photo of yourself.
Not your hero-self, but a polaroid of your civilian form walking on the streets, still in your highschool uniform and tapping away at your phone.
Obviously, panic hits first - did they somehow figure out your secret identity? Or was there something about your civilian self that warranted targeting from the Fatui?
You spend the better half of your school day lost in thought, bouncing the ball of your feet incessantly against the ground, until a shadow looms over you.
The Twins?
Ah, just Lyney.
"Good afternoon, sleepy-head~" He greets, placing your test results against your desk. Your glance up, noticing that he's helping your teachers hand them out. "Perfect marks again! Are you sure you're too busy to tutor me? I'll pay you with the highest-quality dinners." He offers.
"That sounds a bit too much like a date... I wouldn't want people to misunderstand." You smile, not noticing the way Lyney's gaze lingers on your expression a bit longer than it has to. He could move at any time. The pile of papers are tall.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take." He shrugs, leans closer, and fixes your hair so the loose strands are tucked behind your ear. "But of course, there's no pressure. I understand if you're busy after school."
-
Lyney too, is busy after school. But he doesn't need you to know that he's panicking for a different reason while you're lecturing him about mathematical equations and diagrams, looking the most beautiful you have in a while.
It's a sappy thing to say, but Lyney likes you best when you're talking about the things you like. And if said thing is your favourite subject at school, then he'll learn to bear with it. Anything to spend some time with you.
...Almost, anything. On his way back from a mission last week, Lyney realized with jaw-dropping horror that the one picture he took of you during patrol as a Phantom Twin, had printed itself without him realizing and flew into the abyssal darkness of the cityscape. No one knows about it, even if Lynette could tell he wanted to throw himself off the skyscraper they were standing on during their debrief - but god, what rotten luck! He was just testing out a night-vision scanner when the love of his life walked into sight, and without thinking, he'd...
...Taken a photo. And lost said photo in his next breath. To make matters worse, the photo had a watermark from the Fatui's tech company! He can only pray that it was truly lost and is never found by any soul, dead or alive - but then Lyney remembers that you're right in front of him and leaning so close as you check his worksheet answers, and suddenly his heart is racing for a completely different reason.
God, he needs to get a grip.
How the rest of this plays out: Lyney is still adorably charming during your studying session, and treats you to a meal! You learn that he is capable of fumbling and being awkward as much as you are, and for some reason this part of Lyney charms you more than any suave production could
On the other hand, Spiderman (you) soon finds the Phantom Twins again and catches Lyney off-guard by asking them what they're planning with the civilian photo you found. Lyney panics for a split second, allowing him to be temporarily captured by you to be interrogated
He's tied up, hastily, but since you've seen how good the Twins are at escaping things, you decide to just corner him against the wall while holding his wrists in your hands, pinning him in an alleyway
The photo, he eventually says, was just from testing a new weapon. (Not untrue. He isn't about to expose his real identity. But something about the way your voice twisted in confusion and later relief makes him curious. Just what were you so concerned about within the contents of that photo? Could it be...?)
Lyney stalls, waiting for Lynette to free him from this temporary confine and slipping into the shadows like they always do. However, Spiderman's reaction to the photo he accidentally let slip keeps replaying in his mind, and he can't help but wonder if the hero could somehow be associated with you.
Things develop, as they do - Lyney investigates, now looking at you with a different lens and realising that you're just as sharp as him, at certain times. You move like something could attack at any second, and your eyes don't have the same shine as when he first met you a year ago.
You're either related to the hero, or the hero himself. By the time Lyney's seen enough to decide on one possibility, his approach to you was somehow... more genuine, compared to his previous rose-colored lines.
He feels like he sees you now. And somehow, he can't bring himself to feel particularly betrayed.
It's on him for always finding impossible things to love.
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ambrozjas · 9 months ago
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Can you do headcannons for Ponyboy with a popular fem reader who like knows everyone and everything?
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writing on the desk ꨄ︎
sodapop curtis x reader
✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ
omg i just realized that you requested for hcs 😭 i’m so sorry i didnt see but if you do still want hcs, just send me another req and i’ll do it 💕
✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ
mentions of cheating (not you and pony though), and i think that’s it
✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ
401 words, 2256 characters
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
every day at school, there was at least somebody who waved to you everyday. you’d always flash them a smile and a wave back, before hooking your arm around ponyboy’s and walking back to class.
ponyboy wasn’t that popular, only getting some recognition due to being your boyfriend and all, but he kinda liked that. he kinda liked the fact that he stayed in the shadows.
but one thing that you always loved to do with him, is gossip.
“so anyways, i asked her—‘what are you doin?’ and she was all, ‘you don’t get it.’ like.. i do get it.” you said, waving your hand around in an exaggerated motion. ponyboy just listened, watching you retell the story as if you placed yourself back into that moment, occasionally giving an eyebrow raise or a gasp.
“i jus’ don’t understand why she’s gotta be difficult with everything.” you said, crossing your arms and sinking back into your chair.
you guys were in class, you two always sat in the back together in whatever you classes you had together, even when those weren’t your assigned seats. you don’t think the teachers even care to be here considering they’re not even getting paid well enough.
pony hummed, “she seems like a real jerk.” he replied back, his own little way of letting you know he’s still listening. he’s pretty quiet at school, but he still listens even when no one thinks he is.
“exactly!” you said as you sat back up, grabbing a pencil and writing your name on the paper, deciding you should start doing the worksheet, “she jus’ makes everythin’ so much more complicated.” you said, turning over the paper and starting to work on the equations listed.
“y’know, she’s cheatin’ on her boyfriend, right?” ponyboy asked, his eyes still glued on his paper. your mouth dropped open as your head slowly turned over to look at ponyboy.
“what?” you whisper yelled.
“you didn’t know?”
“how do you know, pony?” you asked, pressing him for answers. “i sit in the back of her english class, so i hear everythin’.”
“what else does she say?” you shook his shoulder, pleading for more knowledge to gossip about. “well..” pony started, and you both ended getting nothing in that class done.
even on the walk home, you guys still talked about it. you guys were just two kids, talking shit about everyone else, in love.
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ guys i have like ten requests in my inbox I WILL GET TO THEM IM JUST A LIL SLOW 😭😭
kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
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bubblegyu00 · 8 months ago
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OMG OMG OMG LOSER!ANTON ??!!?!
i'm sorry i just rlly love pathetic men with no self confidence at all idek
AND CAN I BE 🍡 ANON PLS ILYYY
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YESSS THATS JUST HOW I LIKE MY MEN I DONT CARE LIKE SUE MEEE
i like them turning red every time i literally look their way
AND YES YOU CAN BE 🍡 ANON PLS I USED TO BE THAT EMOJI ANON TOO 😭😭🙏🙏
loser!anton who's been silently watching you for a few years now ( not in a creepy way i swear ) and he's had the fattest crush on you since forever
loser!anton who's actually really attractive, but he kinda lurks in the shadows and stays quiet most of the time
loser!anton who freaks out so bad when you were a skirt or a crop top
loser!anton who got sat next to you in biology and can not stop fidgeting with his fingers, and can't make eye contact with you for the life of him
loser!anton who whimpers under his breath when all you did was accidentally touch his hand when you passed him a worksheet
loser!anton who freaks out and stutters when you invite him to work on the project after school at a cafe
loser!anton who basically wants to cry when he realizes that the project is done because he won't have a reason to talk to you anymore
loser!anton who is a blushing, stuttering mess when you ask him on a date !
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haruharuz · 2 years ago
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Self Therapy; A Note
I've been pondering about this concept for quite a while now. Therapy itself is a wonderful tool to pick your broken pieces up and gently glue them back together- as if they were never broken at all.
However, not everyone has the resources to truly indulge in such tools. So I mulled over the idea of doing therapy almost at home. While it won't be as effective, as far as my personal experience goes, therapists typically give out homework to their patients.
I want to make it clear that because you're doing this kind of thing at home, it is vital to remain cautious. This is not medical advice, just something to consider.
If you do not have the resources to go to therapy, doing a self therapy session every single week could be beneficial, I think. I'm making a little guide on how exactly I personally am choosing to do this.
(●��∀`●)
Step One: Choose An App
There are many many free apps specifically geared towards mental health. I've used a few, one of which being "WYSA" which I personally enjoyed. Pick one you think would suit you!
I enjoy these apps primarily because they typically have some free form of help. Like breathing exercises, meditation, etc! You can skip this step if you don't feel comfortable.
Step Two: Find Resources Online
You can easily find a lot of free resources online by looking up "therapy worksheet" "anxiety worksheet" "depression worksheet" etc.
Find a couple that you think would suit you to work on for the first week. The more you find, I recommend stockpiling them into a folder! This way, every new session you can either pre-plan said worksheets or grab a couple quickly.
I also highly recommend looking for journal prompts! Especially shadow work journal prompts that help you release certain emotions. You can do this with pen and a notebook or you can use a laptop/tablet for this! If you don't feel secure, password protect documents or hide your journal in a very safe place.
Step Three: Plan your first Session
Identify what you would like to address/work on during the session. Write it down.
Find the worksheets and exercises you want to do, plan them out. It's easier to go ahead and print/write/type them now and put them in a folder with a clear name. (e.g. ST.session1)
Find a day in the week when you know you will have at least one hour of free time. During this one hour of free time, you will be taking the time to do all of your things ! You can do this before bed, in the middle of the day. Just choose a time you think would be best.
I recommend setting a small goal every 1-2 sessions. Remember, goals should be reasonable, attainable, and measurable. Little steps. (For instance, if you struggle with severe social anxiety like I did, you can make a goal "order a coffee one time", but there's many ways to do this)
You can add more to this if you want! Please remember, you can add a face mask and reading a nice book, or other coping skills/self care to this if you think it might help. I recommend choosing things based off on how much time you have and how effective they are at helping you cope. You can also add them all separately to a "self care" day weekly. Up to you.
Example Setup
I'm sharing my personal set-up and plan with you! Some people need visuals <3
This is my folder set up:
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as you can see, I have three folders inside a "self therapy" folder!
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inside the "journaling" folder, I have three documents that align with the session outline (pictured next) that is in its respective folder. The first one has a journal prompt, the second two are completely blank and only named. They're just sitting there, waiting and ready!
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This is my session outline. It includes what issues I'll be addressing and what exercises I'll be doing. Also, the next goal I'd like to work towards. This includes how I plan to do so. I also put a clear DAY and TIME for this session.
This is the worksheet I'll be doing:
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And that's all! I'll be following this tomorrow and drinking some chocolate milk and relaxing :3 not too shabby, huh! Don't forget, if you are ever thinking about hurting yourself: call a hotline.
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markerslinger · 6 months ago
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Here's a dump of some concepts and art for a TTRPG I'm working on!
The setting is fantasy 1920's in a the independent city state of Beetle's Bauble, a modern magical city heavily influenced by Manila, Singapore, Hong Kong, San Francisco, and Mexico City.
This city, is the coveted jewel of the imperialist eyes of the Old World (fantasy Europe) and the constant target of intrigue and espionage in attempts for them to steal new magical breakthroughs and technology.
The shadow of a looming modern magical war sweeps across the old world, while the New World must contend with a decades long war of attrition off the coast with Krakens. Massive magical beasts emerging in mass off the western coasts of the New World devastating the coastline.
This is all background and context in the game, because you're going to be playing as civic ghost hunters, keeping Beetle's Bauble safe from malicious spirits and a new emerging threat recently discovered by a bungled heist.
I'm constantly working on it and posting more detailed stuff on my Patreon! Please help support me while I work on this and a myriad of other unrelated projects I do for a living now!
You can help by becoming a patron, even at the dollar level it helps! For the cost of a coffee a month, you get access to all my digital goods, zines, worksheets, and printable tokens! Go here if you got the means to that!
If money is tight or you understandably want to use it for essentials, you can help out by following me on all my channels and telling other people! Reblog my stuff and follow my accounts! Followers help as a metric for interest in my projects and shows I go to use it so if there's interest in having me in an artist alley or show!
Follow me on insta @markerslinger and bluesky also @markerslinger!
-M
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theghostkingisdead · 1 year ago
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so i have this au where danny is basically raised by ghosts. even before the portal opened, his parents' constant work with ectoplasm thinned the veil around their house, meaning shades could pass over. And these shades basically take a look at this neglected child and say is anyone else gonna raise this kid and then don't wait for an answer
In this au danny becomes a halfa through constant exposure to ectoplasm, which literally burns through his humanity but doesn't kill him. I haven't decided whether or not he still goes through the portal in this one, so lmk what y'all think.
A potential scene from this AU:
Danny sat at his desk, trying to focus on his homework over the growling in his stomach. It was easy work, really. Just a review worksheet for the upcoming math test. Long division. With fractions. And decimals.
Ok, so if Sally has two thousand dollars, spends 4/5 and puts 3/4 of it in the bank, she’ll have about…how much remaining?
Danny groaned, slamming his head onto the table. His stomach groaned with him. The ache was dull, for the most part, and would have been easy to ignore if not for the sharp way it bit at him whenever he moved.
It had been two and a half, maybe three full days since he’d eaten anything. It wasn’t his parents’ fault, that they forgot to feed him over the weekend. They had their own minifridge in the basement, and rarely remembered to come upstairs except to sleep.
Once upon a time, Jazz had made sure he at least ate something, back when his parents stocked the fridge with non-biohazards. But she was in fourteen and old enough to work, now, and he barely saw her except in the mornings.
Danny frowned back at his page. So, one quarter of two thousand is five hundred, and that leaves 4/5 of one thousand five hundred… no, that’s not right.
Thunk. Something heavy landed next to his head.
Danny flinched back violently, almost tipping over his chair. He flailed his arms, trying to find his balance.
He looked back up. There, sitting on his desk, dripping green juices all over his worksheet, was a piece of what might have once been steak.
It was the right shape, he was sure, but where steak was normally pink, this piece of meat was light green, with nearly-black veins threaded throughout. He leaned forward, face screwing up at the smell; like dead iron and cleaning supplies.
It was gross. It was foul. It was getting raw-meat juices all over his half-finished paper.
It had been three days since he’d last eaten.
Against his will, Danny felt his mouth beginning to water.
He looked towards his door; still closed and locked. The only clue as to where the steak had come from was the room’s dropping temperature, and a shadow in the corner of his room. it disappeared when he looked at it head on, but from the corner of his eye, he could make out a human-like figure with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.
It gestured at him, and Danny knew what it was asking.
The steak was gross. Danny was hungry.
Wouldn’t he get sick from eating raw meat?
A memory tickled at the back of his head, of a steak so rare it was barely cooked, of a night out with Aunt Alicia.
So maybe he’d be fine?
Danny grabbed the steak, grimacing at the way it squished between his fingers. He brought it up to his face, and almost threw up directly on it; the smell was way worse up close.
But Danny was hungry, and he had never been one to waste food. Steeling himself, taking a large breath of blissfully clean air, he leaned forward and bit down.
It tasted worse than it smelled. In his mouth, the sharp iron scent turned bitter, sucking the moisture from his mouth like an underripe persimmon. The meat was chewy, and tough, and somehow still spicy. It burned his throat going down.
It was by far, the worst thing he’d ever eaten. Not that he had much to compare it too.
And besides; Danny was hungry.
The steak went down in quick, desperate bites. The bone was licked clean.
His rest that night was fitful, and Danny awoke with a fever high enough that even his parents took notice, calling him out of school for the next two days.
But the meat stayed down. And Danny was full.
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unidentified-ending · 1 year ago
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"Out of the Shadows"
Part 4
Guys, this might be the last one, if not then part 5 definitely wil be so, stick around for the next one :D
Tw: violence, injuries and (harsh?) transphobia. Not for the easily upset
Aizawa and Class 1a x ftm!bullied!reader
Before we start, I just wanted to say thank you all for the likes and follows, it may not seem like much but I really appreciate it. Thank you for supporting my work
And with that being said, let's do this
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"I think you'll want to see this" It was strange for Katsuki to be quiet so something serious must of happened Aizawa thought so he walked outside and closed the door behind him.
He widened his eyes in shock.
"What...What happened?" He said, looking at your limping form on Izuku's shoulder.
"We're not sure. According to the nerd (Deku) one of Minato's friends, Kyou, called for him and me to go to the locker rooms and we found Y/n lying on the floor, nearly unconscious" Bakugo explained.
"It wasn't even that bad, it was just a little miscommunication that led into a fight. Im literally fine.-" You said but Bakugo shouted
"Well what the hell was all your lunch, stationary and other stuff doing all over the ground huh!!"
"Alright Bakugo and Midoriya, thank you. I would like to talk to him alone. Midoriya could you please hand out the worksheets to everyone? Do what you want just dont cause much trouble. Y/n can you walk?" Aizawa concluded.
"Yes, but I think my foot is injured" You said while Bakugo and Midoriya walked back into class, all your classmates asking them questions before they walked filly into the class.
"Alright, let's go to recovery girls office, she'll heal you." He said as he walked by your slightly limping figure.
Once you guys got to recovery girls office you sat down at one of the beds.
"Alright, please tell me what's going on. I need no lies at this moment forward" He said seriously, looking at your nervous eyes, waiting for some answers.
You sighed shakily but finally gave him the truth
"Well, these kids have been bullying me, since the day I saw them. They've been picking on me and hurting me. I know I've been keeping this a secret. I'm sorry" You say, tears starting to well in your eyes.
"It's ok, let it out I'm here" he said as he stands up to hug you, you grip onto his hero costume like its the last thing on earth and sob in his shirt until you calm down, sniffling and red-eyed.
"It's alright, I've got you. Recovery Girl will heal your foot, get some rest kid. You need it" He said after you calmed down,
"Y/n, we will get these kids expelled. For you. For all the victims"
You nodded and climed into one of the beds, you couldn't resist the cozy comfort of the bed and quickly fell asleep, in a matter of minutes.
You woke up and it was evening, you could see it through the big class windows which were shining through a yellowish orange glow inside.
"Good evening dear, your teacher left a note for you. Its just by your side" recovery Girl said as she noticed your were awake.
Your foot had been healed though you felt very tired, she handed you the note that read
"Hey kid, come to the dorms as soon as you can. Your classmates have something for you"
You sighed and got ready to leave, your bag and your belongings beside the bed you were in. You said your goodbyes to recovery girl and left the room, wondering hat your friends and classmates had done for you.
You were so drifted out of your thoughts that you never noticed Kyou who accidentally pushed passed you. "Sorry dud......" when you saw who it was you froze.
"I'm not gonna do anything to you, I need to go" he said rushing away in a hurry, you had so many questions for him that were unexplained but he just ran off so you saved it for the next time you saw him.
You were so lost in your thoughts, again that you didn't realise you ran into someone else, two people. When you tried to apologise, the only word your mind could conjure up was
"shit"
Minato and Haruki.
As soon as they saw it was you, Minato slammed you right into the wall. You really couldn't catch a break..
"What the fuck did I tell you, you fucking freak" Minato said as he opened the door to an empty classroom and threw you in there.
"You stand guard and get Riku to come with weapons. Im finishing this now" He said, eyes glinting with rage and malice, his true intent was to get rid of you.
Forever.
"Please man, I haven't done anything to you."
"Your existence alone is enough reason to make your life miserable." Minato said and Haruki added on from the side
"Pathetic. Trying to fit in won't change what you really are. A girl, A female. A woman"
Your heart shattered into a million broken pieces as the reality of what they said sank in. It was true, that's all you were. After years and years of trying to fit on and be a real man, just shattered over a few words.
He threw you at a table and desk and you slammed right into it, your body aching with pain. He lifted you up and slammed you back down on the ground, the nerves in your back shooting all the way to your brain.
He then towered over you.
You felt the cracking of bones and the gush of blood as the punches rained down upon you, your face becoming a grotesque battlefield of pain and blood.
The ringing in your ears just wouldn't stop.
Just then Riku, Asahi and Kyou walked in.
Riku's eyes glinted with mischief as he reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a collection of bats, one for each person. With a sly grin at you, he started handing them out, creating an unwatchable atmosphere in the room.
"I want him gone"
Ahhhh, cliff hanger. This is the 4th part.
I kind of got lazy with this one considering it's 3:18 in the morning so forgive me if any silly mistakes were made.
The final part is coming tomorrow, or today so stick around for that
And remember:
Always drink water and eat something, You deserve it :DD
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welcome-home-official · 8 months ago
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The First Day
Original Fiction under the cut
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Labor Day was yesterday, and Edgar could feel the excitable atmosphere long before any of the students had arrived. He could hear them just outside his classroom, the shuffling of shoes and the low hum of conversations that melded into each other into an indistinguishable noise. He could see the shadow of students lingering outside his classroom door through the small windowpane; nobody wanted to go in quite yet, taking the free time to chat with their fellows before the bell. 
The air was a little too warm and humid. It was supposed to be quite hot all week, the remnants of summer refusing to yield to September just yet.  The bell rang, and students started to file into the room, taking their seats wherever. Some of them looked quite gloomy, not ready to be back at school, while others looked excited, some nervous, and a fair handful looked bored of the whole thing. Still, there was one face in particular he was looking for. 
Ah, there he was. 
At the back of the class in the seat near the window, sat the student Edgar had been most excited to see. 
Gemini Hyacinth, 19, unusually tall and willowly with long, sleek black hair. Edgar could see that he had it pulled back for the first day of school in as neat a braid as he could manage. He also was wearing a button-down navy shirt, short-sleeved for the hot weather, and black dress pants. He made an effort to look nice for the first day, unlike most of his peers.
Edgar wasted no time in getting class started. He grabbed the stack of papers he had been sorting, stood in front of his desk, and gave his usual first-day-of-school-speech before passing out the papers to each student. 
When he got to Gemini's desk, he smiled at him, and Gemini gave a soft one in return as he accepted his worksheet.
The homeroom period dragged on for a while, but Edgar didn't mind. He sat at his desk, preparing for his next class, every so often glancing up to watch Gemini. The young man was quite focused on his work, head low, pencil swiftly moving across his paper.  Even on the first day back, Gemini took school quite seriously, intending to do well enough to get a college scholarship. Edgar wished other students were like him. He hoped that Gemini would make it that far. Edgar wasn't quite so sure if the lad would or not.  Not through any fault of his own, of course.
The poor thing had no idea how badly his teacher wanted to sink a blade into his throat.
Edgar made a rule of never going after students; in less than a year though, Gemini would no longer be protected by that rule.  Seems like the older male would have to let the chips fall when they may. Hopefully, for Gemini's sake, the college he gets into would be too far for Edgar to make the effort to track him down.  
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{Author's Note} Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read my work ^u^!  This short story is going to be a part of a collection of works for my passion project, Welcome Home! The main point of these short stories is to act as filler and give information about the characters and explore story ideas that wouldn't have  fit into the main storyline without ruining the pacing.
Feedback is greatly appreciated! It encourages me to both write more and improve my work.  What did you like best about it? Something you didn't like, or didn't get? Theories? Headcanons? Thank you so much!  
-Ollie.
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claranight · 2 years ago
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Guardian Angel||
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Character: Kurapika, kid!oc(Kurta), oc
Warning: Mention of the bad part of past, manipulation
Category: Fluff, slight sexual activities.
‘Where is Neon!’ Kurapika looked around the shops. Somehow, Neon was able slipped out from his team, with her maid and ran off for fun. The team is searching everywhere for her, then Kurapika accidentally bumped on a little kid. “Oh, sorry little one.”
“Ugh…it’s ok! The groceries seem fine too.” The kid got up and dust himself, grabbed his groceries bag and started leaving. “Wait!” he turned to him and looked confuse.
“Have you seen this girl?” Kurapika took out a pic of Neon and show it to him. “Uh…yea?”
“Really?! Do you mind showing me where she is?” the kid nodded and takes his hand to his house.
 _____________________________________________________________
“Pfft! You manage to get out of their gasp and look for my apartment. For FOOD?” you were laughing to on the table, while Neon is eating your homemade sweets. “You never come and work for me. So, my only option is left is using the sneaky techniques that you uses to get away from me to them.” You started to laugh again and bang on the table while holding your stomach.
“Miss Neon, Kurapika is here.” The maid alert. Neon turned and saw him and waved at him with her mouth stuffed with sweets. “Hi, Kurapika!”
“Miss Neon, why are you here? Everyone else is worried about you! You need to notify us, if you are going to your friend’s house!” he busted at her, he was already stress with the worksheets that he was given.
While Kurapika was lecturing Neon, you slipped out their way and walk toward the kid. “Aki, you finish groceries shopping?”
Aki sparkled at his ‘sister’ and nodded his head. “Yep and I brought that guy to Neon-niisan” you took the bag and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, with him. “You shouldn’t bring strangers home.”
“He’s not!”
“Oh?”
“I don’t know how to put this, but I felt some kind of similarity to him.” you looked at Aki and back to the blond man, then back it him. “Are you betraying me?” you gasped dramatically, making Aki panic. “ no, No, NO! Nothing like that!” you snicker when he waves his little arms at you.
You felt shadow hovering over the both of you, you turned and saw the blond boy. “Thank you for taking care of Miss Neon for me! I wasn’t sure, what will happen if no one takes care to her.”
“No big deal! She kinda like one of my cousins who’s spoiled. Also, she’s the one who came to me.” You pointed out.
He stay silent for a while and then chuckled at your statement. “I guess so, but I still thank you for taking care of her.” He bowed at you. You blush a little at his gestion, then you and the other went toward your exit door, once you guys are outside, your apartment. “I have to take Miss Neon back now.”
“Alright…wait.” You ran back to get something, while Neon was escort to the limo. You finally got back with a bottle in your hand. “Take this.” You threw the bottle at him, knowing that he will catch it. “You seem stress, so drink the tea inside the bottle to ease out your headache.”
“No worries, I’ll be-“
“Take it, I’m serious. Geez, you’re almost like my boyfriend.” You claimed. He smiled at you then he felt as if he saw something shine in your apartment. It’s looks like it’s glowing bright red like the scarlet eyes, then it stop glowing, he tried to see what it was but the only thing he could make out is Aki.
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‘Ugh, my head.’ I finally got back to finish my job as a bodyguard for Miss Neon, now I need to do paperwork. I still can’t forget the glow; it seem more like the scarlet eyes. ‘Aki’ the little boy always rings in my head. ‘Is he a Kurta?’ I want to go back there and to confirm if it’s true, but it’ll be rude to intrude their apartment.
I’m almost finished my paperwork, but my headache came back. I saw the bottle that was given to me, so I gave it a try. “It’s warm…” I felt the bottle that is still hot inside and taste it. I felt my whole body was warm and relax, in this cold weather.
“Hmm? My headache is gone.” I touched my head. I guess the tea did ease out my headache.
“Kurapika?” I turned and saw Melody. “You seemed happy.”
I looked at the bottle and smiled at her. “Yea, it does seem so…”
“Was it because of that girl, who was taking care of Miss Neon?” I felt a bit fluster, then I nodded at her. “I can tell when you stare at the bottle that she gave you. You like her, don’t you?” Melody tease a bit.
“I liked her?” I question myself. I felt my face red, but I calm down remembering what she told me “Geez, you’re almost like my boyfriend.”
“She already in a relationship with some else.” I told her. I felt my heart dropped on the ground and shatter, not knowing why. I silted my tea and felt a bit better.
___________________________________________________________
 Six months has gone, you and Kurapika have become closer and almost realising that they have feeling for each other.
Kurapika went back researching to find the Phantom Troupe or look for more for the Kurta eyes. When he finally for another Kurta eyes, in an abandon building far away from town, him and his comrade drive towards the abandon building. They defeat (no killing) many guards that was in their way and find four Kurta eyes in different rooms.
They finally got to the last room. What they didn’t expect to be there is that there is a cage and someone familiar is in there. ‘Aki’ they thought.
“Get me out of here!” his eyes glow red. Kurapika knew it, that he suspect that Aki is Kurta, and he seems to be in trouble. Before could he hear something muffled behind him and saw his comrade being holding down by a bunch of people.
“Kurapika, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” Kurapika turned and saw your boyfriend who is the mastermind of all this operation.
“What’s going on! Is (y/n) here?!” Kurapika demand answers.
“Haha, no she’s not here.” (bf/n) chuckled at him. “You know, how easy to tame a girl’s heart? Give her gifts and pamper her with sweets compliment and they are all over your hands. She is one of those simple and naïve little girls. How boring…”
“You were taking advantage of her!?” a bunch of man started to keep him down on the ground too. He can tell in their eyes that he is using nen manipulation on them.
(bf/n) laughed again, seeing Kurapika’s reaction. He takes Kurapika’s chin to look at him in his eyes, “I can already tell that you are from the kurta clan. Your clan’s eyes are so magnificent, I want my own hands to ripped them off your heads”
Kurapika can fell all the rage piling up his stomach but there is one thing stop him from killing him. ‘(Y/n)’ how would you feel if (bf/n) was dead or never was seen again. Then he saw a figure sitting on the stairs staring at them, leaking a bit of bloodlust. (Bf/n) turned around to see what, Kurapika was looking at, then the saw was you…
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. What a fine night it is today.” You sarcastically asked your audience, showing an innocent smile.
“Hey baby! Looks like you heard everything, didn’t you?” he walked towards you
“Stay away from her!” Kurapika yelled. But (Bf/n) ignore him, still walking towards you, locking his eyes with you. Before he could touch you, his arm as cut off and (element/n) is circle this arm to keep him from bleeding. (Bf/n) looked at his arm before he started to react and screamed in pain, confusion is in head mind. ‘What did you do?’ ‘How do you do it?’ ‘What kind of nen is it?’ ‘Why you never told him, how powerful you were?’ ‘What kind of (element/n) is this.’
“You know that I never liked you right?” you told (bf/n). “I know you were stalking me to make out what my movement was when I’m with Kurapika or with someone else.” You broke Aki’s cage and took down the people who is holding the other’s down. “The more I learned about you the more I see how fake you are.” You brought Aki to Kurapika’s arm, you buried Aki’s head on his chest to cover this seen. “I told myself to quit killing people and I tend to do that.” Everyone heard sirens outside. “Besides no one is killed so it a win~win for me not to loss control and cut you to pieces.”
“What power do you process?” (bf/n) panted still feeling pain on his arm. You turned to him and smiled. “It’s none of your business, don’t worry about it.”
___________________________________________________________
 In the car with Kurapika and his comrade, you were hold a sleepy a little boy, cuddling in your arms.
“(Y/n)?”
“Hmm?” you turned to Kurapika.
“Who are you?” he asked calmly.
“Me? Well, I guess I should tell you, since you and Aki came from the same place.” You looked at him with a sweet smile, no fakes, a real smile. And Kurapika knows. “I was a former assassin or a killing machine, which you could called that.”
“Why did you stop.” Kurapika was nervous if Aki should stay on your arm, but he still remain calm because he trust you.
“Let’s just say. Aki open my eyes a bit.” Everything suddenly felt comfortable, learning that you aren’t a threat to him or Aki. You were just moving on from your past. “How did you meet Aki? Is Aki really his name?”
“The first question, I won’t answer.” You held a bored face. “The second one; Aki is for short for Akimitsu, that’s what his mother told me…that’s when she died.” You mutter the last part, but he can still hear it.
“Thank you…”
“What are you thanking me for?”
“It’s obvious.” Kurapika hugged you and Aki together, you felt embarrassed for what he’s doing. “Taking care of one of the Kurta clans.” Everything was silent and you lead back to his embrace, feeling his warmth. When he was about to let got, he notice you dose off.
“You guys look like a family.” Basho comment and made Kurapika blushed hard.
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 More months came by and your friendship with Kurapika, soon almost turned into a relationship but neither of you confessed. Aki tried many ways to get in Kurapika away from you, but it just draw you guys closer.
“Go away, Kurapika!” Aki throw a bit trauma at him, out on the door. “(Y/n)-niisan is MINE!!!!”
Kurapika’s friend came to help him, trying calm Aki down. “Kid, why are you like this?” Leorio asked. But all he states that you are his.
“Do you hate, Kurapika that much?” Killua question and giving Aki some attitude. “No, but I just don’t want him to take (Y/n)-niisan from me!!!” then he squealed when he felt someone pick him up, he turned and saw that it was you…
“Sorryforthewait. Comeinsideandmakeyourselfathome!” you speed walk inside with a fluster face. You made a fest for everyone to enjoyed. Once you all full, you and Kurapika are left alone while the others are busy playing with each other, you two enjoying each other presents. Outside your balcony, he pulled you closer and place his lips on yours.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” You can see how hot you and Kurapika’s faces. “I liked you for a while now. You are amazing, you’re strong and have confidence on what you are doing. You light up my heart and made me feel relax whenever that is a piece of you. So… will you be my-“ you cut him off by kissing him. He was shocked at first but slowly kissed back, holding your waist and head close to him while you circle your arms around his head.
The kissed soon turned into a make-out. “AHHHHH!!!!!” you and broke apart and saw Aki was the source of that scream, his eyes turned scarlet. He is standing there pointing at us, then he start crying. “Waaaa! Kurapika-niichan took my sister away from me!” he cried out and goes towards him and started hitting Kurapika on his leg (cause he’s small) while he is still crying. “You thief, you thief, you thief!” he repeated while crying, you tried calming him down.
You took Aki into your arms, trying to calm him down, rocking him to not cry and disturb the neighbours. “Hey, it’s ok. What do you mean by thief? Don’t cry!”
“Waaaa! You love me not him! Don’t take my sister away from me!”
“No, I’m not taking your sister away from you.” Kurapika tried to calm him down, but he started trying to hit him while you still holding him. “You love your sister as much as I do. I’ll take better care of her then (bf/n).”
“I know you will, but I still won’t let you take niisan away from me!”
“Hey…” you spoked gently that made Aki stop crying and turned to you. “I won’t leave you, like ever. Your stuck with me ever since you started to become my little brother.” He sniffed at your words and buried himself in your chest.
“Ok, but I still won’t accept him.” Aki pointed at him. “Hehe, you’re so cute but you will eventually.” You rubbed your face against him, he tried to get away but gave in and rubbed back.
Gon and Leorio looked happy for them while Killua looked like he is about to throw up upon this scene.
“Aki! Why don’t we have a sleepover, right now!” Gon yelled out. Aki look at him and nodded, you put him down and he started running out to Gon.
You got closer to Kurapika. “You wanna sleep with me?” you whisper in his ear with a teasing tone. You giggled at his flustered face, and he started to back away. “Just kidding.” And you started to leave.
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You took the kids to the bathroom to get cleaned up for bed. “Are you sure, you don’t want me to join you.” You asked. Killua was fluster at your question, “No!” then he slam the bathroom door leaving a laughing you on your knees. “You’re so cute!”
“Baka, shut up! You old hag!”
“Alright, aright! I’ll go, Haha!”
You went back to your bedroom, and you saw Kurapika sitting on your King size bed. He notice you and close his book having his full attention on you. “Ah, you’re here.”
“Why are you on my bed?”
“You asked if I should sleep with you” he talked serious.
“That was a joke!” you exclaim.
“Well, I don’t think it’s a joke.” He sat up and walk towards you and picked you in a braid-style, which made you startle and held him close. He walked back to the bed, gently sat you down, pull the cover and held you close to his chest.
“Goodnight, my guardian angel!”
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lady-of-the-spirit · 1 month ago
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Talk Shop Tuesday - I'd love to hear more about how you came up with Marianne!!! She's so great and I adore her so much!!!
Meant to answer this earlier forgive me it is no longer tuesday-
tbh the reason I came up with Marianne was... at least half out of spite. Because I was reading a bunch of wattpad XMen OC fics and I was like "Why are all of these ocs in their 20s. where are the older women." not that being in your thirties is old but there were no ocs older than maybe 27 and it was bugging me so I started off there.
Marianne in her earlier stages, before she became Marianne, was actually very different. Instead of telekinesis, she had darkness/shadow powers, and instead of owning a bookstore she worked in a butcher shop, because I liked the visual of Charles and Erik meeting a scary shadow woman with a butcher's knife. But then I was thinking past that initial moment's comedic relief and realized I didn't have much for her after that so I kept working on it. I don't remember exactly how I ended up with her owning a bookstore but I liked it!
I really liked the visual of a woman who was untethered by gravity and just floats, all her hair floating around her as well, just walking in the air like normal, and so landed on telekinesis as her power - and how powerful she could be with it.
The Mom Friend bit came around because I was thinking about a character who actually has something to go back to - because basically no one in the First Class team has a life that's all that great and they'd want to go back to. So I wanted to have a character who DOES and that's why she fights. So that's how she ended up being a mom with a dead husband. And then that ended up becoming her being a mom friend! And that one decision ended up affecting the rest of her character.
Her being Canadian was just because I wanted to have some Canadian rep and to have her do Logan's "I'm Canadian" scene lol
I got her name Marianne from school! In my history class we got a worksheet with different nation's personifications and it had the personification of France, Marianne, and I was like !!! That's her name!!! I got her last name, Ouellet, from a list of French-Canadian surnames, and later on realized that it's also the last name of one of my childhood best friends.
talk shop tuesday
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littlerabbittarot · 5 months ago
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Why I Don’t Read Tarot Every Day
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As a mental health tool, tarot can be pretty powerful. It can break us out of fixed mindsets and take us down paths we didn’t expect. It can surprise us, hurt us, hear us, and heal us. The things it says to us can be a lot to process depending on what we ask it. For how much it can do, you’d think you’d want to whip out the cards every day, no?
I used to do readings like this daily. To get familiar with the cards and their meanings, I would start or end my day with a card, and reflect on it in a journal entry. Mundane questions or ones that don’t hit deep, like ‘What should I keep in mind for today,” can often work out well enough to be done every day to a certain extent. And while learning how to read tarot, simple daily one card readings like this can be nice.
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“What should I be mindful of today?”
The King of Swords encourages you to be confident of your decisions. To take your experience and understanding of things, and be assured that you have the answers already. If there are many choices to make, take a deep breath, and take things one at a time.
Gradually, however, I felt that it started to be a bit much. I had days where I wanted the readings to carry over to the next. Perhaps the King of Swords was nice on a Monday, but then I wanted extra time to practice and reflect on that advice on Tuesday too. And if I were to pull another card for more advice on that same Tuesday to keep up with every day pulls, well, then it gets to be confusing, as my focus and attention get split.
Not only that, but what about days where I do deeper readings? Reflecting on and seeking advice in relation to my shadow, or important decisions? That’s a LOT to deal with, and the results of those readings may need to sit for some time.
While tarot is certainly no replacement for therapy, it does sing a similar tune. There’s a reason you wouldn’t see your therapist every day (perhaps apart from rare exceptions). The mind needs time to digest things, to have concepts sink in and weave their way around in our brain, to be processed consciously and unconsciously. (Ever think about just the right thing to say hours after a conversation? It’s like that!)
I may go weeks without a reading, or I may have weeks of daily readings. It’s all about paying attention to my needs, being mindful of where I’m at, and asking myself if or why I need a reading. Maybe I just want to do one for fun, and not have it be anything more than that? That works too! The important thing is to not pressure myself into feeling like I have to read every day. Instead, I focus on when I want or feel I need to use the cards.
That said, you don’t always have to read for yourself, or even real people! Another good way to practice or explore with the cards is with fake clients. And I have just the resource for that. You can check out my free PDF querent practice worksheets here.
How often do you do tarot card readings? What are your favorite types of questions to ask?
— 
Thank you for reading! I hope to continue to blog about tarot, mental health, and similar topics. Feel free to follow, or support me on Ko-Fi.
-LR🐇
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cdyssey · 2 years ago
Note
The Abbott staff meet up at a bar after work and a guy hits on Melissa and Barbara becomes protective
PROMPT
Ouch, Anon. :') But also, right up my alley.
CW: Alcohol, Unwanted Advances
UPDATE (11/16/22): Uploaded an edited version to AO3! I actually added 300ish words to the edit to help out a few rushed places.
Barbara leans against the threshold of Melissa’s classroom door, arms neatly folded over her chest, and patiently waits for the other woman to look up and notice her. It doesn’t take too awful long—Melissa’s vigilant eyes are constantly flicking towards the door, habitually assessing for potential threats—and when she quickly realizes that she’s not alone (and that no one is going to hurt her), she blinks and smiles tiredly.
There are dark circles etched beneath her pale eyes.
More lines creasing her forehead than usual.
An unsubtle sadness about her.
An utter exhaustion.
Joe got married to Nina Santa Cruz yesterday, and Melissa went to the  wedding for reasons that Barbara doesn’t fully understand, perhaps judging from the safe distance of a high and mighty horse. Her friend stubbornly insisted that she and Joe want to stay on amiable terms—that even though he was awful to her for the last decade of their marriage, that even though he nearly brought them both to the point of bankruptcy with his spending habits, that even though he cheated on her with one of their mutual friends—things are good between them.
Great even.
Melissa’s always sugarcoated the whole sordid affair, made excuses for the bum that Barbara has learned to smile thinly at and nod politely to over time. Anything else has been quickly and viciously shut down.
You don’t know him like I do, she’d snapped when Barbara had called him a manchild for inviting Melissa to the wedding on Facebook Messenger of all places.
He doesn’t mean to hurt me.
It was the same thing one could say of a small child who didn’t know better.
Or a rabid, untrainable dog.
“Hey, Mama,” Melissa yawns, taking the opportunity to stretch her arms over her head before she leans back in her chair again. “Ya heading home for the evening?”
“No, ma’am,” Barbara drawls, shaking her head rather lavishly, “and you aren’t either. Remember? Larry’s birthday party is this evening.”
It is very clear—from the alarmed expression comically stretching her face—that the other woman had not in fact remembered Larry’s birthday party.
“Fuck,” she swears, dragging a tired hand across her puckered mouth. “I forgot that was tonight. Goddammit. I didn’t even get him a present.”
“He’s a seventy-two year old adult, Melissa. He hardly needs a present.”
Nor a birthday party at a bar that was infamous in the eighties for being the premiere place to snort lines in the bathroom, Barbara quietly thinks to herself—but their principal has always been an overgrown child at heart. Both Melissa and Barbara like him well enough, though, and they’ll be sad to see him go next year when he finally retires after putting in forty years at Abbott.
“Yeah, but it’s Larry and it’s fun to watch him get excited over stupid things,” Melissa shrugs, now knuckling her lips thoughtfully. “This bein’ said… I kinda don’t wanna go anymore.”
She gestures to the pile of spelling worksheets on her desk and the open gradebook next to it.
“Got stuff to catch up on,” she continues with a sigh. “And I’m still tired from last night.”
Last night.
The wedding.
Joe.
Being forced to applaud her ex-husband kissing another woman.
Kissing the other woman to be precise.
Barbara watches the shadows beneath her friend’s eyes subtly deepen—watches how her shoulders slump with the incalculable weight of what that specific trauma does to a person—and she hates Joseph Lombardo all over again. 
If Melissa won’t, fine. 
Good. 
Bless her Sicilian soul. 
In her heart of hearts, she’s always been far more of a saint than she presents herself to be. 
Barbara will just hate the man enough for the both of them.
“It was a good ceremony, though,” Melissa adds hurriedly, as though she can read her thoughts. She likely can. Barbara has never been particularly adroit at disciplining her features when it comes to her less-than-warm feelings about Joe.
“Mhmmmm,” she hums noncommittally, smiling thinly and nodding politely.
“No, really,” the younger woman snaps, defensive now, even a little desperate. It’s always been far too important for her to receive Barbara’s uncomplicated and unadulterated approval. “It was fine. I’m fine. Joe and Nina—they’re… fine.”
She only falters at this last part, her brow furrowing lightly over her eyes, and Barbara takes pity on her.
“I believe you, hon,” she tries again, offering a smile that feels plastered on her face, caked like another layer of makeup. It must be a passable effort because Melissa relaxes in her chair again, somewhat placated … and still so visibly defeated at the same time, wearing her sadness like a tender bruise.
“Come out with us tonight,” she adds gently. “It’ll do you some good to get your mind off of”—she bites her lower lip and chooses her next word very carefully, enunciating it as though she’s delivering it to a wounded animal trapped in a corner—“grading.”
Melissa glances down at her pile of unmarked papers for what feels like a long time, clenching her fists in her lap. The seconds trickle down, the silence cloisters them, and Barbara’s already composing another line of persuasion in her mind, anticipating a blunt refusal.
However, when the other teacher finally looks up again—when she purposefully meets Barbara’s gaze—she looks less defiant than she does uncertain.
Almost lamblike in her chair.
Her eyes so wide and bright.
And Barbara nearly staggers backwards at the sight.
Melissa Schemmenti is rarely, if ever, uncertain.
She is not a helpless lamb.
“Could ya pick me up from my house?” She asks, and it’s a coded question, a subtly charged one. Melissa wants to drink to the point of not being able to get herself home anymore without saying those words aloud, and she’s asking for permission from Barbara. 
She’s asking for the safety to do so.
This is also a new one in their relationship—Melissa doesn’t ask for help. Ever. She just suffers alone and seems to think she deserves it.
“Of course, honey,” she quietly replies.
But despite the lack of precedent for the question, there is no other possible answer.
Melissa will always be safe with her.
Larry’s party is very much Larry—loud and raucous and entirely too much fun for the sixty-three year old Barbara, but she carries out her social duties as a party attendee gracefully. She revolves around the crowded space to chat with friends and colleagues, occasionally reminding them, in her instinctively motherly tone, to drink some water after doing tequila shots. (“My goodness, Lorraine, you’re not twenty-two anymore! Enough is enough”) She abstains from drinking herself, taking her role as Melissa’s designated driver quite seriously. (“Oh, not for me tonight—thank you anyway. Do enjoy a Manhattan for me, though, but don’t bother with the wings. Lord knows they come off that grill still clucking!”) She happily videos the principal singing “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” with Mr. Johnson on the karaoke stage in the corner. 
It’s off-key and it’s stupid and it’s entirely lovely all at the same time.
(“We can put this on the You-Tube!”)
As often as she can, she checks up on Melissa, who pretty much settled herself at the corner of the bar from the moment they arrived, steadily working through one Sam Adams after another. Larry tried to wheedle her into singing “Come and Get Your Love” with him, but she’d declined apologetically and told him that her throat was a little worn out from teaching today. A few of the third grade teachers had invited her over to sit with them at their booth, but she’d passed on this offer too with a pinched smile, gesturing to the TV mounted behind the bar and claiming that she was watching the re-run of the Eagles and Dolphins game. Barbara joins her from time-to-time and resists the somewhat inexplicable urge to press a hand on the small of her back and whisper quiet words of comfort in her ear, but Melissa expertly shrugs off her attempts at companionship too. 
“Go on, hon,” she had said the last time Barbara made her rounds, smiling wanely, her eyes nearly black in the low lighting. “Have fun. I’m just not in the mood tonight.”  
And so, Barbara, clearly dismissed, does what she can to run interference between her friend and everyone and their cousins who are starting to wonder what’s wrong with her.
Usually, Melissa is the life of the party, the first to the bartender and the last on the dance floor.
“She’s just not particularly feeling well,” Barbara smiles tightly at their friends and coworkers, all the while knowing that they’ve been gossiping behind Melissa’s back.  They all know Joe. They all know what he did and how he hurt her. Some even get continue to get their haircuts from the new Mrs. Nina Lombardo. “Long day today.”
Larry, a barrel-chested man with a big, jolly belly, works his way over to where Barbara is standing by a tall table, watching Melissa from afar. She’d just been about to go over there herself, alarmed by the sight of a man with a poor combover sidling next to Melissa on the barstool next to hers…
Too close for comfort.
Both her own and her friend’s.
She’d seen the way Melissa reacted to the unexpected intrusion, how she’d nearly jumped out of her skin… she doesn’t do well with surprises.
“Barbara,” Larry barks out, slapping his hands on the table and startling her from her thoughts, “what the hell is Schemmenti’s problem?”
She frowns at the principal, annoyed that he’s blocking her view of the second grade teacher.
“Like you don’t know, Larry Chapman,” she mutters under her breath, craning her head to the left to no avail. “The whole bar is talking about it, and you, dear sir, have never missed a beat.”
“Yeah, but I wanna hear it from you,” Larry shrugs, unbothered by her clipped tone. “You’ve got the hot line to our red haired beauty. The rest is just fiddle-faddle and playground gossip.”
Barbara doesn’t say anything to this for a long moment, thinking about how Melissa would hate to know that she’s the center of attention right now, that despite every effort she’s made to fade into the background unnoticed, her melancholy is as bright as her hair.
“She went to Joe’s wedding,” she finally says, softly, with an air of disbelief, as though she still doesn’t know how Melissa found the strength to do so.
“The SOB had the balls to invite her?” Larry grouses indignantly, his brow forming a vee over his eyes.
“Crude way to put it,” she sighs deeply and wishes she had a Cosmo in her hand, “but yes—he did, in fact, have the audacity to do that to her.”
“Bastard,” the principal simply says before making the Sign of the Cross over his broad chest. 
“Oh, I’m sure the good Lord will forgive you for that since it’s true,” she smiles at him tiredly, easily mollified by the recognition that he’s in the same boat she is in—entirely concerned for Melissa Schemmenti.
He shuffles around to the other side of the table so that he’s standing next to Barbara and—praise, Jesus—clearing up her line of sight to Melissa. To her disdain and confusion, she sees that the man is still there, leaning across the space between the barstools, tomfoolery in his hooded eyes.
Clear and undisguised lust.
And Melissa is leaning backwards as far away as she can from him, visibly uncomfortable.
But to Barbara’s utter and irreconcilable surprise, she doesn’t seem to be doing anything to discourage his advances, hasn’t pulled out her pepper spray or yelled the word stronzo once.
“She doesn’t see the good in herself,” Larry says astutely, quieter than he’s ever been in in his entire life. “Thinks she deserves schmucks like that.”
He points at the man who has now got his grubby hand around Melissa’s waist, pinching her hip. Heat rises to Barbara’s cheeks at the disgusting sight, guttural and speechless fury.
How dare he?
How dare he touch her?
“Want me to handle it?” Larry growls, already rolling up his sleeves. Once a former linebacker back in his day, he could probably snap the offending mongrel like a twig.
“No, Principal Chapman,” Barbara says coldly, placing a staying hand on his forearm. “Allow me.”
Larry will just end up getting arrested for a public safety violation if he gets the chance to go over there. 
Barbara will take the trash out with a touch more delicacy. And so, primping the back of her hair once, she heels over to the bar in a few staccato steps. When she’s within a couple of feet of them, she can finally hear a snatch of their low conversation. She stops just short of them, somewhat reticent now that she’s made it this far and neither of them have noticed her presence.
“We could go back to my place,” he crows, his hand still on her side, “and you can take off that nice leather jacket of yours, and we could fuck.”
“You’re being presumptuous,” Melissa snarls, though she doesn’t slap the man’s hand away from her. “I said fifteen minutes in a car. No frills. No shirts flyin’ off. I got a knife in my boot and I ain’t afraid to use it.”
A short pause. With his free hand, he scratches the back of his neck.
“You want something cheap?” He asks skeptically, giving her a once over as though he’s already undressed her with his eyes. “A quickie in the backseat?”
“I just wanna to feel something,” her friend says distantly, and it is the saddest combination of words in the English language that Barbara has ever heard.
Oh, God, she could almost cry.
But because she’s Barbara Howard, she pulls herself together in a maddening instant, and doesn’t do that. Rather, she closes the space between herself and Melissa and the man who just wants to fuck her, batting down his arm from where it has slid to the younger teacher’s backside.
“Barbara?” Melissa asks, wide-eyed and surprised.
“Grab your purse,” she commands in her teacher voice without looking at her. “We’re leaving.”
“Hey!” The man protests, clearly lacking the sagacity to understand what just happened. He abruptly stands up from his barstool, inches away from Barbara’s face, towering over her significantly. His breath reeks of whiskey, his flannel shirt putrid with cologne. “She’s a grown ass woman—she can speak for herself.”
Our of the corner of her eye, she sees Larry yelling something and waving his fist around, sees that half the bar has stopped to watch them, but Barbara doesn’t flinch.
Doesn’t back down.
Refuses to lose her cool.
“And you, sir, are a grown ass man,” she hisses at him, “who is throwing a tantrum like a child. My friend deserves much better than that—much better than you.”
And even though she knows she shouldn’t,  she jabs a finger into his bony chest, sending him stumbling backwards onto the barstool again, staring up at her dumbfounded.
“Larry, be a dear, and close out our tabs, would you? I’ll pay you back on Monday,” she brightly calls over her shoulder as she puts an arm around a numb, achingly quiet Melissa.
“Come on, sweetheart,” she whispers softly against her head. “Let’s get you home…”
Melissa is silent the entire drive back to her house, staring out of the passenger window, attempting not to cry apparently from the telltale way she is holding herself—all stiffened muscles, her limbs angled away. Barbara, knowing that she requires this space, well aware that Melissa Schemmenti hates to cry in front of others, doesn’t push the issue, knobbing the radio to the Gospel station and allowing the old hymns to fill up the space in the car where words are decidedly absent.
Perhaps there are no words for what happened in the bar.
What more is there to say except that Melissa went to her ex-husband’s wedding, and it cost her something to do it?
Anyone would be just as easily undone.
After twenty minutes of soundless driving, Barbara pulls into Melissa’s driveway and parks perfectly next to the other teacher’s black Civic, turning off her sedan with a click. The sudden absence of music and the gentle thrumming of the engine are felt.
All that is left is an emptiness.
The darkness of the night.
The shadows that stretch in the car.
“Thanks,” Melissa says flatly, reaching across her chest to unbuckle her seatbelt. She does it clumsily, with fumbling fingers.
How many beers had she downed?
How many did she think it would take to drown out the sadness, the pain, the noise?
“I can stay the night with you?” Barbara offers, perhaps a tad too overzealously, heat suddenly rising to her cheeks. “Gerald wouldn’t mind.”
Melissa is just a friend, and there is no marital rule against spending the night with friends. Her stomach lurches, and for a second there, she misidentifies the sensation as a manifestation of guilt.
She has nothing to feel guilty for.
Melissa is a friend.
“I’m not drunk, Barbara.”
“Never said you were.”
(Just privately thought it.)
“And I’m not… I didn’t… I don’t need your help either,” she finally gets out, overpronouncing every word as though each was impossible to say. “I’m not another one of your charity projects, Barbara. You don’t have to fix me.”
It stings. 
Of course it does.
Melissa’s words have a singular way of doing that. 
And a cutting remark almost rises to her tongue, a hearty, “Fine then! Sleep with random losers and boozers for all I care, Philly’s finest bachelors.”
But she stops short because she does care, and the thought of that cretin from the bar being inside of her makes her sick. 
And because of what Melissa said to him.
I just want to feel something.
And because of what Larry said to her.
She doesn’t see the good in herself. Thinks she deserves shmucks like that.
Barbara swallows her hurt and reaches across the console between them.
Places her hand firmly over Melissa’s, feels the spines of her knuckles tense beneath her lined palm.
Feels the other woman immediately recoil beneath the touch.
Feels her halfheartedly try to pull away.
But Barbara is stubborn and she squeezes tight.
She will never let Melissa go.
“And why would I ever have to fix you, Melissa Schemmenti?” She asks softly, with all the tenderness of a first kiss. 
“I can’t mend something that wasn’t broken in the first place.”
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lukascreamsintothevoid · 2 years ago
Text
Blooming Panic High School Teacher Edition
So... Bloomic, but teachers, you know?
Bloombot- Superintendent- works in the shadows, isn’t often seen but keeps things running. Lays down the rules. BUT SHE’S A GOOD SUPERINTENDENT, NOT A SHITTY ONE THAT MAKES HER EMPLOYEES MISERABLE.
Salocin- Principal whose been teaching for years and is beloved by all students and staff. He was formerly a science teacher before moving into admin. He never really wanted to be principal, but he saw the need for someone who could actually connect with staff and students, so he stepped up like the God he is.
Hypebot- the weird ass janitor that everyone knows and everyone loves. You’re not quite sure if he’s actually doing his job at any point, but he’s got a mop and a broom and he pushes them in the cart, and the rooms and halls are always clean, so he must be doing something right. But whenever you see him, he always seems to be doing something just a little absurd and you're not really sure how it relates to his job, but oh well.
June- English/creative writing- June is the English teacher who gets really excited about the stuff she teaches. If she loves the work, she’s so excited and gets all the kids excited. If she hates the work or the author, the class becomes a roast-fest, and the kids are still engaged because watching Ms. June insult dead authors is hilarious. Her creative writing kids would fight someone for her without a second thought.
Onion- Math- Everyone agrees that he’s smart. Really smart. When there’s a quiz in his class, every student panics and starts studying in all of their classes. They will have their History books open, and stuffed inside will be worksheets to help them practice the problems during class. The kids love him as a person. He’s grumpy, but not in a mean way, so kids like to stop by before and after school and say hi and just pester him. But when he starts teaching, most students can’t stand him, just because the class is tough. Most of them pass, though, unless they just refuse to do the work, and most kids will begrudgingly admit that he’s the main reason they passed the math section of the ACT/SAT. He also definitely sponsors the chess club.
Lady- Science- She has class pets that everyone adores. She’s also not afraid to tease the kids if they're doing something dumb. Not if their not doing well in class or anything like that and they’re actually trying, but if a kid is trying to make a basket with some wadded-up trash and misses, she’ll boo and tell him to take another shot. Or if a kid is goofing off in class and throwing pencils in the ceiling rather than paying attention, she’ll banter with them before asking them to stop. Usually gets a pretty good response too. She gets deadly serious when they’re doing a lab. If you’re fucking around while they're dealing with ACTUAL FIRE AND CHEMICALS, you can bet your ass you're out of that class until she can talk with you.
Quest- History- This man as a history teacher would be the death of me. He’s got a really calm voice, so kids listen and settle down in his room. He makes the terrible parts of history seem less scary, and if things are getting a little bleak, he breaks the tension with a silly joke. But he also doesn’t sugarcoat things. If the textbook gets something wrong, or if there’s something in it that historians debate, He’ll stop and discuss why it’s incorrect and give the kids the right information. He opens his class up during some lunches to give the kids who don’t want to be in the lunchroom a safe place. He also always has snacks. If you’re hungry, he’ll open a drawer and just toss you some crackers. I’m just in love with the idea of Quest managing to reach the kids who were a lot like him growing up. He just feels like maybe he can make a difference in one kid's life; maybe he can stop them from making the same mistakes he did.
Toaster- Desktop Publish/ Technology- He’s definitely kinda awkward around the kids, but they warm up to him really fast and he has no idea why. But all the kids love his computer classes. They break down every step when working with the kids, and lets them work on more creative projects than what the book suggests. Another really calming presence for the kids. They're also who all the teachers send the kids to if their Chromebooks stop working. He’s got a magic touch with them, but he swears all he does is tell them to turn it off and back on again. His afterschool programming club is super lively, and definitely has won a lot of awards
Two2- music- It’s two2. They’re just really scattered, all the time. He’s definitely the teacher you find just sprinting down the hallway because he’s five minutes late to class because the sightreading worksheets he prepared jammed up the printer. They walk in, and the kids all chant “If you’d been gone 3 more minutes, legally we could have left.” He laughs it off, but the rest of the class is a little off-kilter for the rest of the day because they’re still flustered. It’s always chaotic, it's always a little messy, and the kids make fun of them, but if they’re gone for any reason, all the music kids are in a bit of a funk for the whole day.
XYX- Gym- GIVE THIS MAN A FUCKING DODGEBALL. He’s always got crazy shit for the kids to do during gym; sometimes it’s basketball, but you can only make a basket from a certain spot on the floor, other times its races and the winner gets to pick what they do the next day. Dodgeball tournaments are insane, the talk of the school. Don’t expect to do anything but review in class when Xyx plans one, because the kids are going to focus on nothing else. But he always finds ways to make sure that the less athletic kids don’t feel terrible in his class. Sometimes he’ll put himself on a particularly unathletic team and watch the other team scatter in fear of him. Sometimes he’ll tweak the rules, but in fun, stupid ways that leave everyone talking and excited about it. He plans the games for school assemblies, and he always has fun picking out the most embarrassing game for the teachers to compete in because he knows the kids get riled up seeing their teachers do something stupid. 
Nightowl- Art- He’s the teacher that sits on the desks. He’ll sit anywhere in the classroom that isn’t a chair. And kids agree that of all the teachers, he’s the one who dresses the least like a teacher. It’s always professional, but there’s a sort of casualness to his outfits that the kids like. On opposite day during spirit week, kids tend to dress like and act like him. He’s also the one that all the other teachers go to if there’s some kind of fad that’s caught on with the kids and no one knows what it’s about. All the crew likes to think that they are the cool teacher, but Nightowl is the undisputed cool teacher to the kids. Also, this works, because people joke about English and Math teachers not getting along, but I have never seen an art teacher who does not have beef with the math teachers. The kids absolutely feed into the drama between Owl and Onion, and they think it’s hilarious. He's also the teacher that said "fuck" in front of the kids one morning when he was still really tired, then looked them all in the eye and told them that if they said a word, he'd fail them all. The whole school was joking about it by lunch, and no one failed the class.
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