#we talked about that concept in library school

[terrainofheartfelt]

I like to curate my instagram experience by blocking every single account served to me that a) is still making h*rry p*tter content in this the year of our lord 2024 & b) does any gimmick whatsoever with chatgpt

[attapullman]

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

15 and 20 with Eddie Brock/Venom please!

.⋆｡At Last｡⋆.

Eddie Brock/Venom x plus size reader

A quiet weekend in the mountains with your boyfriends is just what you all needed (and totally wasn’t because you’re on the run from the law)

Warnings: reader is a bit of a brat, mentions of getting shot at and abusive parents, past murder, fluff, implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Celebration

Peace to Eddie Brock seemed to be an entirely foreign concept. His whole life was one shit storm after another, there had never been a moment of calm between his abusive father, his struggles in school, the endless fight between him and his bosses, the breakup with Annie, and then discovering Venom. He supposed he chased the chaos, needing that dose of adrenaline and fear in his blood to remind him that he was still alive and fighting.

But the second that you came crashing into his life (quite literally too, you hit Venom with your car), all he had known was that he could finally breathe. You pulled him from the fire countless times and this weekend was yet another one of those times.

Eddie had begun to get lazy in controlling Venom, letting him do what he pleased during nights when Eddie simply couldn’t be bothered to even wake up to go on patrol with him. And as a result of that, Venom accidentally ate the head of the leader of the most powerful gang in San Francisco so the three of you had to lay low for a while. Using the last of your savings, you bought a shitty cabin in the Rocky Mountains and settled there with your boys.

The whole day had been spent in silence but it was far from uncomfortable, for you at least. Venom and Eddie currently weren’t talking to each other though both seemed adamant that they stay close to you as the sun began to set over the mountains and the chill started to creep in through the poor insulation. 

Eddie’s head rested on your chest, his thick arms wrapped around your waist as Venom had nuzzled into your neck, purring happily every time you gave him a small peck between his huge milky eyes. Your nails trailed up and down Eddie’s bare back, tracing every imperfection on his skin, slowly easing the stress from his body.

All he could hear was the steady beat of your heart beneath his ear. Eddie smiled softly, rubbing the tip of his nose between your breasts. You giggled at the feeling and dug your nails into the small pudge of fat at his hips. “What’s got you so affectionate, Brock?”

“Jus happy.” He muttered, squeezing your waist even tighter than before. Venom nodded against your skin in agreement.

He is right nibble, we are very happy. 

“So you guys are finally done with the silent treatment to each other?” 

“No.” No. You raised an eyebrow at your partners to which Venom chose to continue speaking. We just love you, that is all we agree on. You rolled your eyes at them.

“Are you sure you’re both not just sucking up to me because you think I’m mad about having to quit my job and go on the lam?” Venom growled at that, making the entire bed rumble with the force of it as Eddie felt his blood pressure start to rise. Yet, no part of him felt that usual tensing of his muscles or pounding in his ears that usually came with anger, just a buzzing in his veins that only appeared in your presence. 

You said you weren’t mad. Venom pouted, making you coo at him.

“Aww baby, I’m not, I promise. I just like teasing you both.” The chill in the room didn’t stop Eddie from sitting up between your plump legs, the thick duvet that had been covering you both falling away. Your eyes, though they still sparkled with mischief, grew darker as you looked at the half naked man currently towering over you. He smirked when your gaze dropped to the old sweatpants that sat low on his hips.

Venom slid back into Eddie but you knew he was lurking below the surface, waiting to strike. “Do you now?” You captured your bottom lip between your teeth, barely managing to suppress a whine at the deep timbre of his voice.

“Well, I think it’s only fair. We’re in the middle of nowhere and you didn’t let me keep my phone. I have to entertain myself somehow.” Eddie’s muscles rippled as he leaned forwards, pushing your soft body into the mattress, keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted to.

We can smell her. Venom purred in Eddie’s mind. “Yeah buddy we can.” He agreed, taking in a deep breath and letting the thick scent of your arousal wash over them. 

“The last time you two had a secret conversation in front of me, it led to me getting shot at.” You snapped though there was no bite in your tone. Eddie groaned under his breath and rested more of his weight onto you.

He gripped one of your thighs tight enough to bruise as he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. “Oh you’re getting pregnant tonight. Fucking brat.” You shuddered beneath him.

“You’re all talk.” Venom snarled and a black tendril shot out from Eddie’s side, wrapping tightly around your wrists, pinning them to the bed above you. 

“Try us.” Their voices moulded together and you smirked. 

At last, Eddie Brock had his peace.

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Eddie Brock

@getoutofthere

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Turkey Baster Experiment

Summary: Her cousin just had a baby via turkey baster, supposedly. Robin had to find out if it actually works. Based on this.

A continuation of me cleaning out my drafts.

1990, Chicago, Illinois

The Rockie Harrison Apartment (named in combination of all of their names)

It was Robin and Eddie's day off of work, so they were busy lounging in their pajamas watching Scooby-Doo. Their partners hadn't been so lucky. Steve was working as a middle school teacher, so of course, he didn't have a day off during the week. Vickie was working in a library at a different school, unfortunately, while she worked on also publishing her own book. Eddie worked as a mechanic. Robin worked at a bakery while also tutoring kids with their Spanish and French on the side. Some of them were rich kids, so occasionally, she could afford to take a few days off like she was now.

"You're such a Velma," Eddie said with a shake of his curls.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Robin said. "Velma is very cute."

"That would make Vickie Daphne?" Eddie asked.

"Duh, she can be such a Daphne sometimes," Robin grinned fondly.

"Steve is such a Fred," Eddie sighed dreamily.

"You're definitely a Shaggy," she said. "And the kids are definitely all Scooby."

"Robin. . .I'm feeling that empty nest thingy again!" Eddie exclaimed and pouted.

"It has been almost a year since they've graduated, and we moved here. Weeks since they've called us. It's not like we practically raised them or anything," Robin pouted. "Do you think they've forgotten about us?"

After the kids graduated high school, Steve and Robin decided to move to Chicago with their partners, who were happy to move anywhere as long as it wasn't Hawkins. It was in Chicago that they found a lovely abandoned old firehouse. It took some TLC, but it was liveable, and it housed them all perfectly. Plus, Eddie loved the pole that went down to the first floor, specifically when Steve used it as a stripper pole. Vickie and Robin had vowed never to use it once they learned what they did with it.

"Rob, they're in college now. El, Lucas, and Max are starting this new relationship. Will and Mike are still dancing around each other since Will broke up with Gareth. They're probably really busy," Eddie shrugged and then paused to wail, "They have forgotten about us!"

Suddenly, the phone rang, and Robin nearly broke her neck, jumping over the back of the couch to answer it.

"Oh, hey, mom," Robin said.

Eddie sighed and crossed his arms, pouting in his seat.

"Darn kids," Eddie muttered.

He focused on the show as Robin talked with her mother. Occasionally, he lifted his head when he heard Robin gasp about something. When the phone call was done, the episode of Scooby-Doo was finished, and another one was starting.

"What was that about?" Eddie asked Robin.

"My cousin finally had a baby. Although she didn't tell anyone that she was pregnant and it's crazy how she got pregnant in the first place," Robin said.

"Not the normal way?" Eddie asked in surprise.

"Well, she and her husband have been trying to have a baby for a while, but it hasn't happened, so she decided to take matters into her own hands," Robin said.

"She fucked another guy?!" Eddie gasped.

"Nope," she said.

"She fucked another girl?" Eddie asked in confusion.

"Dingus! No! She used a turkey baster and get this: she didn't use her husband's sperm to do it. She used his brother's!" Robin exclaimed.

"There's no fucking way," Eddie scoffed.

"She did. Her husband only found out because he went to the doctor and discovered he couldn't have kids," she said. "She told him the truth when he confronted her."

"No, not that. There's no way she got pregnant using a turkey baster," Eddie said.

"She did!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't!"

"I'll prove it," Robin said.

"Fucking how?" Eddie asked.

"You have a turkey baster of your own. You should be able to understand the concept of how she did it," Robin said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"No, I mean how the fuck are you going to prove it?" Eddie asked.

"Well, we have a turkey baster, and I happen to be ovulating," Robin said.

"Okay, so what happens if you do get pregnant?" Eddie asked.

"Then you get a baby like you and Steve have been talking about," Robin said. "Although Vickie's been kind of broody lately too."

"So, this kid would have two moms and two dads?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah," Robin said.

"This kid is either going to be the queerest kid ever, or we're all so queer that they're going to be the straightest person alive," Eddie snickered.

"Either way, because of us, they'll be the fast talking son in the west," Robin said.

"It could be a girl," Eddie said.

"No, it's play on words for - never mind. Are we doing this or not?" Robin asked.

"Hmm, maybe Steve and Vickie are right. Maybe we shouldn't hang out without them," Eddie said.

"Coward," Robin said.

Eddie and Robin stared at each other for a while. Eddie glared at her.

"Do it," Eddie said.

"You're up first, big guy," Robin said.

"Right."

Robin gave him a cup and shoved him into the bathroom. She waited rather impatiently outside the door. A couple of minutes later, she heard him groan in frustration.

"Problems? Just think about Steve at the beach when he ate that vanilla ice cream cone, and it started dripping into his sweaty, hairy beast of a chest, but instead of you gawking at him like an idiot, you reach over and start licking - "

"Okay, it's up! Stop helping!" Eddie shrieked.

Eddie glared at her when he walked out of the room and handed her the cup. She took it, and the turkey baster into the restroom, her head held high. He leaned against the wall, smirking when he heard Robin complain loudly.

"Well, if I didn't know I was a lesbian before this, this is definitely what would turn me. Disgusting!" Robin exclaimed.

"I've heard no complaints from Steve when he swallows!" Eddie exclaimed cheerfully.

"Gah!" Robin exclaimed as she came out of the bathroom. "It's done."

"Now what?" He asked.

"Now we wait," Robin said.

She threw herself down on the couch, turned herself upside down, and threw her legs over the back of the couch.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asked.

"Helping your little guys find their way," Robin said. "Plus, it's a cool way to watch Scooby-Doo."

Eddie shrugged and copied what she did.

"Now, we wait," Eddie said.

An uncertain amount of weeks later. . .

Eddie was alone in the apartment while Vickie took Robin to a doctor's appointment. Steve was at work. Eddie was working on writing music when the door to the apartment burst open. Vickie stared at Eddie while Robin stood nervously behind her.

"Did you get my girlfriend pregnant?" Vickie asked.

"It was her idea! She seduced me!" Eddie said.

"How?!" Vickie asked.

"She called me a coward!" He exclaimed.

Vickie giggled and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"It's hard to stay mad at the mother and father of my child even if it was reckless of you guys," Vickie laughed again. "Just wait until Steve comes home."

"Oh God, Steve," Eddie realized, his face pale.

Eddie waited around nervously for Steve to come home. When he finally did, he walked in with a smile on his face. Oh good, he had a decent day. . . It was a decent day that Eddie was probably about to ruin. He walked up to Steve, greeting him with a tight hug and a kiss. He snuggled into Steve’s side, his cheek pressed against his. Eddie traced patterns in his chest.

"Hi," Steve said, looking at him in confusion.

"So, how mad would you be at me if I got your platonic soulmate pregnant?" Eddie asked.

"What is this now?" Steve asked with wide eyes.

"Robin's cousin got pregnant by turkey baster, and I called bullshit on that, then Robin wanted to prove it. I jerked off into a cup, and Robin squirted it up her hoo-ha with the turkey baster. Then, several weeks later, here we are," Eddie said and paused. "So, how was your day, sweetheart?"

Steve sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to wrap his head around Eddie's ridiculous description of the situation. He walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and plopped down at the table.

"So, how are you feeling about this?" Steve asked Vickie and Robin.

"Excited," Vickie grinned. "We're all going to be parents."

"So, all four of us, huh?" Steve asked.

"Yes," Robin said.

"We're having a baby," he said softly, and then he grinned. "We're having a baby!"

"Three bisexuals, a lesbian, and a baby!" Eddie exclaimed, and they all looked at him. "What? Spock directed that film."

Steve laughed, pulled him into his lap, and kissed him.

"I'm happy this happened, but maybe next time you want to get Robin pregnant, maybe get all of us involved," Steve grinned.

"Hey, I was just trying to prove Robin wrong," Eddie said and smiled softly. "I'm glad I was the one who was wrong."

"I just realized this baby is going to part Robin and Eddie," Steve said.

"Oh god!" Vickie laughed.

"Hey! You guys are supposed to love us!" Eddie exclaimed.

"This baby is going to kick the shit out of me, aren't they?" Robin asked, holding her stomach.

Several months later. . . after many shenanigans during which Robin discovered that she could use Steve and Eddie as her willing puppets. . .

"Wednesday, huh?" Steve asked as he held the baby in his arms.

"You said we couldn't name her after a Scooby-Doo character," Eddie said defensively.

"Besides, you always said you love Wednesday because she reminds you of Max," Robin said.

"I'm not complaining, I love the name," Steve said grinning.

Wednesday Elizabeth Munson-Buckley had started arriving sometime during the middle of the night, much to Robin's annoyance. She had been busy sleeping. Wednesday had arrived that afternoon, surrounded by doctors and all of her parents. Now, here they were in Robin's hospital room, with Eddie and Vickie cooing over Steve’s shoulder.

"You did great, baby," Vickie said tearfully. "She's beautiful."

Vickie kissed Robin deeply before going back to gazing at the baby.

"You want to go next, don't you?" Robin asked her girlfriend.

"What?" Vickie asked.

"If we ever decide to give Wednesday a sibling, you want to be the one that's pregnant, don't you?" She asked in amusement.

"Ooh, both her and Steve could go next," Eddie said.

"Let's just see how this one goes," Steve said, laughing. "But probably."

"Oh, I called Uncle Wayne. He cried like, well, a baby when I told him I wanted to give her a w name in honor of him. He's going to call everyone else and let them know. So, we're probably going to have a full house sometime in the next few days," Eddie said.

Steve grinned and passed the baby back off to Robin. She smiled and stroked the top of Wednesday's head.

"Oh, I want her to have the whole world," Robin said.

"So, you want her to be an evil super villain hellbent on world domination?" Eddie asked.

"It's what she deserves," she said.

"She'll succeed where men have failed," Eddie said proudly.

"Yeah, that's a no," Steve scoffed.

"We're just keeping her options open, Stevie," Eddie said.

"It's not set in stone," Robin said. "We're just letting her know that we'll love her no matter what."

"I'm not supporting our daughter becoming a super villain," Vickie laughed.

"I guess we know who the fun parents are," Eddie said.

It certainly wasn't an everyday situation, and most people would call it abnormal, but to the four of them and the people they loved, it wasn't so strange. Wednesday would grow up to be well loved with four supportive parents and with an extended family to match. Stranger things have happened than a child growing up loved and isn't that the most important thing of all. . . That the child was loved?

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆

organization: i know it's the most trivial advice in the world, but i swear it works. before doing anything, i take my planner and review everything i have to do, i divide the study by subject, amount of things to study and review spaces for exams. realistically, you can't expect to do it all in one day, but a good plan could almost allow you to sleep at night!

a clean workspace: i can't fucking concentrate if there's a mess aroud me, i get distracted easily, even by dust, so before i start studying i always deep-clean my desk. i know that not everyone can afford a personal and quiet place to study in their houses, so try to find yourself a small angle where you can really focus.

go to study in a library / café: i didn't believe it at first, but it's actually useful. if you have the opportunity to go to a library or a café after school ( or near your house ) do so. being surrounded by people who are studying like you really helps to focus, you'll be less inclined to get distracted and procastinate. i would feel uncomfortable using my phone in a library with other people who are doing their work while i'm sitting there scrolling on tumblr.

breaks: ik ik, not very blair waldrof, hermione granger, spencer hastings, rory gilmore of me, isn't it? but is it worth it. sometimes i end up having really bad headaches from studying and, even if i keep studying, the quality of my work decreases significantly. breaks are fundamental. i would not recommend using social networks for your beak, because they litteraly drain your attention, rather do your skincare, prepare yourself a snack ( eating is important! it's what makes you focus ), read 10 pages of your book, dance a little bit in your room, do stretching, go outside and buy some mint chewingum, something like that.

EAT!: girls, boys and theys, we know. i honestly think that almost every person that craves academic validation ends up developing a sort of eating disorder. it's not even the food, is the fact that you are too busy studying that you forget to eat, ignoring stomach cramps, or the fact that you didn't get that answer right and now you don't feel like you deserve the lunch. i understand bc i AM like this, like you. but think about it: you need to do it in order to survive ( but this is secondary to the grades, right? ) and to keep your brain active. you can't walk around with blurred vision because you haven't eaten or drunk for fourteen continuous hours. i swear that eating like a normal human being helps you to keep going.

sleep: same thing as eating, but with our terrible sleeping schedules. i know that school is toxic so we end up finishing our homeworks at 2 am everyday ( if we're lucky ) but when you have the chance, take a nap and recover.

repeat things as if you were explaining them to someone: this is litterally the fastest way ever to learn fundamental concepts when you're studying. imagine that you're talking to a friend that doesn't know anything about the subject that you're studying and try to explain the topic to them. finding simple words for a difficult topic will help you understand it thoroughly, on this basis you can then build an articulated and more academic speech. repeat things out loud, doesn't matter if you look crazy, you already are <3

check and organize your notes the same day: i never have time to take proper notes in class, so i review them as soon as possible, with the lesson still fresh in mind. it really helps me understand the subject and makes the further study much easier.

watch youtube videos: youtube is my favourite class. sometimes teachers are dumber than students and you, who don't have a degree in that subject and are tackling a topic for the first time, don't understand a damn thing. ofc not!! sometimes professors are terrible at explaining stuff, but fazal from pakistan isn't. i passed my physics class with a 10/10 thanks to an indian guy on youtube. documentaries and yt videos are a simple and nice way to understand better topics and do insights for extra credits.

delete social media: i'm gonna do another post specifically for this.

"STUDY!" wallpaper: last but not least, the dumbest yet the smartest advice, set as lockscreen a white / black / whatever background with a big fat "STUDY!" written on it. everytime you're about to pick up your phone and procastinate the wallpaper will scold you.

hope this was useful or at least fun to read byee

[tainted-liquor]

'Boys blowin' up my phone...ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ ft. 42Miles

...˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

ingredients: salt, tears, and a speck of sugar.

tw's: unrequited love-ish?, cussing, reader has pretty priveledge

a/n: girl's girl reader! She's here for her girls n we love that

Throughout your life, you've always kept a reputation as a pretty girl. From a pretty baby to a girl that looked like she came straight out of Pinterest. Your hair was always flawless, in your natural 4c curls or in some pretty box braids with beads. From the moment you opened your eyes and spoke your mind, you had everyone falling at your pretty little heels. Admittedly you found it partially disgusting, watching boys and men treat you like an ancient beauty and shunning other girls to bring you up. You fucking hated it.

After all, the word 'ugly' is just a bullshit concept invented by white men with an opinion. Nobody is ugly, they just aren't confined to the Euro-centric beauty standard. And who fucking needs approval from them? So your contacts stayed full, and you left almost every boy on read or delivered. To say your phone was an atomic bomb was an understatement, you picked up the habit of just...not coming off of DND!

You spent all your time with your girls, spending all your time giving them the love and care that everyone should be giving them. You cheered them on, held them when they cried, kept them in check when necessary, and doted on them just like a loving sister. Beauty meant nothing to you, and you never wanted someone to hate you based on the false 'pretty girl' title you held. You simply didn't care about the boys in B.V.A, because they all lacked common sense. All except Miles.

Now, the reason you liked him was probably stupid. You knew that good and well. You liked him because he stayed out of your face, and was one of the few who didn't talk about or make comments on any of the girls at your school. In fact, he didn't talk at all, that's why you like him so much. You've had a couple conversations with him here and there, with him nodding briefly and giving short little statements in response to yours.

"Aight, I'm gonna go to my dorm" He nodded, waving bye as he put his hoodie back over his head, walking in the direction opposite of you. And fuck, did it crush your heart. It wasn't like he was ignoring, avoiding, or ducking you. You heard through the grapevine that he just isn't into anyone, and isn't looking for a relationship at the moment. Which was fine.

But sometimes you'd wish he'd walk up to you, start a conversation, and ask to hang out. Just the two of you in the school library, walking through the many bookshelves and talking about whatever came to mind. You had three classes together, watching as he always passed you by and sat at the back of the class to doodle in his sketchbook. He never spared you a second glance, keeping his eyes glued to the ceiling or his sketchbook as you pretended to glance at your friends in the back, watching him through your peripheral. It pushed you to tears every time you returned to your dorm, mascara cascading down your face every time you thought of how he behaved as though you were invisible.

It started to hurt. He was all that plagued your mind as you digested how jaw-droppingly gorgeous he was. When the bell rang and signified it was lunch time, you grabbed your things as quickly as possible as you went to place your bag in your locker. You wanted to grab a little croissant sandwich at a nearby coffee shop to clear your head, but unbeknownst to you, it was raining. You flung open the school's dark oak double doors to see a vicious downpour, immediately feeling somber as you sighed to yourself. Well fuck you can't have shit, can you?

"Fuck." You muttered, getting ready to go back to your dorm and skip lunch. You weren't even hungry anymore as you trudged back to your shared space, plunging your face into your pillow as you sighed deeply. You scrolled through your phone, ignoring the 8+ messages you had on Instagram, viewing Miles' story, and being bombarded by Magnolia by Playboi Carti immediately. He was sitting at a cafe table, looking down at his phone while Ganke kicked his feet up on the table, a comic book resting on his face. You did nothing but like the story before powering off your phone and drifting off to sleep.

You accidentally skipped the rest of your classes for the day, but it was fine considering you only had Jewelry, creative writing, and a free. Your roommate/best friend had been chilling at her desk, doing her pre-calc homework as you heard the faintest bit of bass coming from her AirPods. You assumed she couldn't hear you, so you fell back on your bed and posted new selfies to your story. "Lila, what song should I choose?" You asked as soon as you heard the bass die out. "Uhm...Focus by HER. By the way, where you been girl? I had to go to jewelry alone" Lila asked as she looked up to the top of your shared bunk bed. "My bad, I wasn't feelin' too good so I took a nap!" You chirped as you rubbed your eyes.

"Ah, that's aight. Hope you feelin' better. By the way, I found this in the back of 7th period" She muttered, pulling a crumpled-up piece of paper from off of her desk and extending her arm straight up and back so you could grab the sheet. You held the form, immediately locking eyes with a perfect drawing of yourself. You were sitting on the lockers, knees to chest with your lavender-purple beats. "Damn, who drew this? They're good" You gasped, snapping a picture to post later. "No clue. But girl move over I gotta tell you about what happened with me and Kazir" Lila giggled as she powered off her computer, turning on the salt lamp and climbing up to your bunk.

Taglist

@ashsostrange @chessbox @faeriesoiree333 @janaeby @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv

[the-east-art]

Silly story time! This is my emotional support rock, or my spirit rock, or I can’t remember what my teacher called it.

Back in senior year of high school I took an AP art history class by a teacher who clearly really loved art history (he was a history/social studies teacher by trade and not an artist). We would have one day out of oh every month maybe a little less where we would focus less on memorizing pieces and dates and mediums, and instead discuss more abstract concepts (let’s all do a self portrait, why did you make yours this way? Why do people want portraits? Let’s draw a silhouette of your face - let’s talk about shadows on the wall.) He wanted us to paint the ceiling tiles of his room, but it wasn’t allowed, so on day we came in and he had one of the tiles taken off and instead with paint we put our handprints on the back of the tile, where the admin wouldn’t be able to see it.

Anyway, early on in the class he asked us each to bring in a rock (he technically wanted us to bring in a rock much smaller than mine, but I forgot about his specifications haha). We talked about how people imbue objects with meaning and connection. A rock among a hundred rocks and yet it’s yours. Throughout the rest of the school year we would occasionally get our rocks and sit them next to us while we took practice tests, as kind of an emotional support.

On the day of the AP test, which was taken in the schools library, he lined them all up on one of the shelves where we could see them. The idea was loosely that this rock had been with us through our nine month ordeal of studying, and would reassure us that we could handle the test.

[wave2tyun]

rain and vanilla lattes | ☆

pairing: classpresident!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: highschool!au, mutual pining?? kinda??, fluff, a bit of angst, a bit suggestive (? making out)

summary: kang taehyun, smart, attractive, sweet, class president. the kind of boy that anyone would fall for. he never thought that love could tug at his heartstrings so intensely, until his eyes landed on you

warnings: none!

word count: 4.5k

a/n: because of uni i sadly have not been able to write anything new for tyun's bday, i apologise😖 however!!! i really wanted to repost "rain and vanilla lattes". this was my first ever fic so please don't judge it too harshly asdbdjdsh i personally shudder when i try to reread it but i am very emotionally attached to it + i know that it used to be a big favorite!!! :0 enjoy!!! :D<33 (also i REALLY hope those were the pics i used for it before asdbbhsd)

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

the loud sound of the school bell was more than enough to wake you up from your deep slumber. you only had to push through for one more hour and survive literature class, before you could finally head back home and rest. it’s not that you didn’t like the class, in fact, mr. kim was a lovely teacher, he knew how to explain concepts well and never overwhelmed you with work, it’s just that expressing yourself wasn’t really your forté. mr kim knew that, yet still picked you regularly to answer regardless, not sparing you the embarrassment. this time you really weren’t in the mood for his schemes, so you could only pray that he would leave you alone, just this once. he was punctual, as always, and as soon as he sat down on his chair he made an announcement:

“class, i know you’re not gonna be happy about this, but it’s not long before the end of the semester and i need you all to get started on a project for your final grade.”

groans and complaints erupted throughout the class. nobody was happy about having to start a project so early, and his next statement just made the situation even worse.

“this time, however, you’ll work in pairs. and no, you will not be able to choose your partner. i’ve already prepared the list myself.”

even more complaints could be heard. certain students tried to negociate with the teacher in an attempt to change his mind, but he wouldn’t budge.

“i’ve already made up my mind. you’re not the ones making the rules, i am.”

you let out a sigh and tapped your pencil on your leg nervously as the teacher revealed the project partners. this could either take a turn for the better, or the worse.

“y/n! your partner will be taehyun.”

‘shit-’ you thought, almost dropping your pencil. you glanced over at taehyun, who flashed you a small smile. flustered, you quickly turned your head the other way. shit. you were screwed. you could feel the glares from the other girls in your class, almost drilling holes in your head, but your mind was busy overthinking about the millions of ways that you could possibly embarrass yourself in front of taehyun. after all, kang taehyun wasn’t your ordinary high school boy. he was class president, top of his school, hot, the kind of guy that everyone was head over heels for. love didn’t seem to be a priority to taehyun. girls used all kinds of excuses to talk to him or hang out. however, he would never show any interest back, only letting these interactions happen to a certain extent. you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t attractive, but you knew that he was way out of your league, which is why you never tried to approach him. you were so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice him walking towards your desk.

“y/n, would it be okay for you as well to meet up tomorrow? i think it’s best if we get started early.”

“y-yeah, i think so too. does 2 pm at the library sound good?”

“it’s perfect. see you then y/n!”

you didn’t even realise how fast your heart was beating during your short conversation. why did you even stutter...? you genuinely wanted to slap yourself in the face. you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. 2 pm at the library tomorrow, just you and taehyun, surely you can handle that, right?

───⋆☆─────────────

the next day came by so much faster than you were expecting. it was a saturday, and yet you woke up at 7 am, unable to fall back asleep. giving up, you brushed your teeth and had breakfast...then what? there was still so much time left until your meeting with taehyun. you found yourself pacing back and forth in your room for hours on end. your room became a mess as you kept on trying outfits, struggling to find something that was casual, but not too casual, something that made you look like you’ve put in effort, but not too much effort. there were clothes piled up on the floor and on your chair and your coffee mug was still sitting on your desk. you didn’t want to be late so you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up the terrible mess you’ve made. with that fear in your mind, you decided to leave your house early. you didn’t want to make the boy wait, that wouldn’t leave such a good impression.

you pushed the heavy library door, stepping foot into the quiet room. 1:50 pm. good. looking around for a place to sit until those last 10 minutes passed, you were surprised to see taehyun at a table with a book in his hand, and another stack right in front of him. he was wearing a white button-up shirt, specs on his tall nose and brown eyes shining from the ray of sunshine peeking through the blinds. you couldn’t help but fidget your hands as you were making your way towards him. there was something about his appearance alone that just made you feel nervous.

“y/n, hi! please take a sit” he said once he saw you.

“hii, i’m sorry if you’ve been waiting for long.”

“ah, you’re actually right on time, so no need to worry. i just got here earlier to gather some research material beforehand. here, have a look through this.”

he handed you an exact copy of the book in his hand. a midsummer night’s dream. right...you could vaguely remember mr. kim explaining the project to you. you were supposed to write an essay based on a classic shakespeare play. you completely forgot about it. at the time, you were too busy stressing over your chosen project partner to pay attention to the teacher’s words.

“a midsummer night’s dream has a pretty complex plot...i thought it would be a good pick. i didn’t know how familiar you were with the play, so i brought the copies for us to read.” 

you nodded in agreement. you weren’t very familiar with shakespeare, but you trusted that whatever choice taehyun made was a great one. 

you both started reading in silence. taehyun seemed to be completely immersed in the story, meanwhile you were thirty pages in and felt like you didn’t absorb one single word. taehyun was already far ahead from you, he was reading with such ease that you were embarrassed by how little you could understand from the play. you were peeking at him over your book. you wanted to say something, yet you couldn’t muster up the courage to form any words. taehyun must have sensed your constant glances over his figure, he cleared his throat and broke the silence:

“is there anything i could help you with?” his tone wasn’t irritated though, but rather calm and sincere. he leaned over the table to get a look at your book and you could suddenly sense the sweet scent of his cologne, making your heartbeat raise its pace.

“i’m having trouble understanding, i guess the writing style is much more difficult than i had anticipated” you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you admitted that.

he hummed in agreement and furrowed his brows “you’re right…shakespeare isn’t an easy read, especially if it’s your first time” “say, would you prefer if we go somewhere else where we can talk more freely? i can explain it to you right here as well, but i wouldn’t want to disturb the other students”

you were taken aback by his proposal. you were expecting him to burst out laughing or make a snarky remark, even though you knew taehyun wasn’t the type of person to do that. you just weren’t used to people treating you this nicely in such situations.

“sounds good” you responded with a smile.

───⋆☆─────────────

taehyun led you to a small coffee shop near the library. the place was covered in plants from top to bottom, it had vinyl records hanging on the walls and faint jazz music playing in the background. it was the perfect place for you to continue your work. however, the wide variety of options displayed on the menu made you feel slightly overwhelmed.

“what are you having?” you asked taehyun.

“the vanilla latte here is really good, so i’m going with that.”

“i see…then i’ll have one too”

taehyun was quick to order both drinks and pay for them as well. “here. don’t worry, it’s on me.” your fingers brushed lightly as he handed you the warm drink and you tried to act non-chalantly about it, but your stutter gave away the fact that his actions did have an impact on you “t-thank you.”

settling for a table near the window, you took a few sips from the beverage. the coffee wasn’t too strong, and the vanilla syrup left a pleasant taste on your tongue. taehyun had excellent tastes indeed. he brought out a small black notebook from his backpack, which seemed to have older notes and analysis from the play. he took his time to explain the plot to you, the usage of the words and their modern equivalents. it would be a lie to say that you didn’t get distracted every once in a while, especially when his sharp jawline was revealed whenever he took sips from his own coffee. he only continued his explanations after making sure you truly understood what he was saying, and by the time he finished, you had a much clearer image of the play in your mind.

time passed without either of you realising. just as you were about to leave, you could see a few raindrops starting to fall down from the sky through the window. you hurriedly gathered your things to leave. nonetheless, once you opened the door to step outside the coffee shop, the rain was already heavily pouring.

“what do we do…the bus station isn’t that close to here” you muttered.

“we’ll have to make a run for it”

taehyun grabbed you by the shoulder and placed his jackets on top of your heads to protect you from the rain. you both arrived at the bus station out of breath and giggling.

“i would have stretched a bit if i knew we were gonna run this much” taehyun’s smile revealed his cat-like fangs, which you’ve never noticed before. ‘so cute’ you thought. “are you okay? i hope i at least managed to protect you well.”

“nothing i can’t handle” you replied, but in reality, your lungs felt like they were on fire “thank you, i really appreciate it. i just wish the bus won’t have a delay like it usually does.”

“i wouldn’t mind that actually, that would just mean that i get to spend more time with you.” he responded playfully, flashing you another one of his charming smiles, making you blush for probably the 10th time that day. “do you live far away from here?”

“hmm kinda. i don’t usually take this route but i believe it’s gonna take at least 40 minutes to get back. not that i would mind though, i enjoy longer rides.” you wrapped your arms around your body in an attempt to get a bit warmer. you spent so much time at home overthinking about what you were gonna say and do that you didn’t even bother to look at the weather. taehyun seemed to notice how much you were trembling though, so he put his jacket over your shoulders again. 

“here, this should keep you warm.”

“but then you’re gonna be the one who feels cold…” you argued, almost taking the jacket off completely. taehyun put it back on you in an instant.

“no, please take it. i’ll be fine, that run got me warm enough. i’m the one who suggested coming here, so i wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you catching a cold because of me.”

the bus arrived right as you were about to open your mouth, not giving you the chance to fight back. you hopped on, taehyun following after you. 

the ride was mostly quiet. it wasn’t an awkward kind of silence though. during this time you were finally taking in everything that happened today. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this good with someone. sometimes not even your friends could make you feel so at ease.

“i wish we could do this more often” you muttered.

“do what more often?” taehyun asked. you froze. you didn’t mean to say that out loud. you weren’t the type to act this bold and straight-forward.

“ah, well- i mean this, you know. us meeting together to study and stuff” you blurted out and looked down. you were trying to prepare youself for the rejection. what if he’s gonna think you’re weird? he probably prefers to meet up with someone who matches his own level of intelligence. what if- “i agree, i really enjoyed our time together today.” you looked at him with wide eyes, taken by surprise. “then…are you free tomorrow as well? same hour? for the project of course.” you rambled again. “sounds great.” he responded tenderly.

you looked out the window and notice that the area was starting to become familiar, meaning that you had to get off soon. but oh my, you just wanted to stay there and keep on talking to the gorgeous boy. he was kind enough to wait until the bus stopped at your location, before finally going back to his own house. and once you did get off, you could see him waving at you from his seat. exhausted, you collapsed on your bed, heart still fluttering at his sweet gestures.

───⋆☆─────────────

your regular meetups were something that you were looking forward to. they didn’t stop even after your project was done, instead they became your own litte thing, a safe space. taehyun would always wait for you at the exact same table with a set of books and two vanilla lattes from that same coffee shop that you’ve visited on your first meeting. you adored being around him, it didn’t even feel like you were going for school work anymore. you loved how comfortable he made you feel and how caring he was, how he never looked down on you and how his eyes gleamed whenever you told him you understood his explanations. he always looked forward to the silly doodles you would leave on his notebooks whenever he lent you one. he also loved how you were shorter than him, teasing you whenever you were unable to reach a book. you pretend to be mad at him when he makes jokes about it. in reality, you found it endearing simply because it was him doing it. shit. you were head over heels for kang taehyun, there was no point denying it anymore. the realisation hit you like a truck and you were suddenly nervous to see him today at the library again, even though you’ve been doing that for months now.

taehyun didn’t show up for the first class that day though. it was weird, especially since he’s class president. his attendance is supposed to be mostly perfect. at first, you tried to brush it off, thinking that he might have just overslept. your suspicion was proven wrong, as he didn’t show up for the rest of the day either. after pretty much dragging your feet along the hall, you anxiously opened the library door. however, taehyun wasn’t there either. ‘strange…’ you thought. it was already past 2 pm. your table was completely empty. there was no sign of the boy, nor could you see his notebooks or any vanilla lattes anywhere else. maybe he was somewhere hidden among the shelves? you frantically looked for him, yet you couldn’t see him anywhere in the library. you sat on a chair and tried to calm yourself down. maybe he was just late, after all he’s human too. you sent a message to check:

( tyun :p )

[y/n, 14:24]: hey, i’m at the library :)

[y/n, 14:36]: is everything okay? you didn’t come to classes today either :(

[y/n, 15:05]: tyun...?

you closed your phone with a sigh, nervously playing with your rings. now you were really starting to panic. what if he picked up on your feelings before you even did? have you been so oblivious towards your own actions? you wanted to cry at the thought of accidentally making him feel uncomfortable. god you were so stupid. he had all those other girls in your class chasing after him, prettier, smarter and richer than you. you couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. why would kang taehyun choose you out of everyone who had shown interest in him? he was clearly way out of your league. you hated your heart for even letting you catch feelings for the boy. you left the library with a heavy heart. your mind was overwhelmed by your own thoughts and you didn’t want anyone there to witness your mental breakdown.

───⋆☆─────────────

it was ridiculous how much the situation affected you. you contemplated staying at home the next day, after just barely getting a wink of sleep. in the end, you forced yourself to get out of bed, you already had enough absences for the semester and didn’t want to get more.

you weren’t in the mood for mr. kim’s class either, so you put your head down on your desk ready to doze off for an hour. a familiar voice snapped you out of your daze:

“sorry for being late mr kim.”

you glanced at the door and right there stood taehyun, out of breath and with messy hair. he looked just as tired as you were. you quickly looked away though, not wanting to have eye contact with him. even today your messages were still left on ‘delivered’. you could feel his gaze on you during the entire class, but you chose to ignore it. 

you cursed mr. kim in your mind for making you and taehyun permanent project partners. you still had one more project left for literature class which you and taehyun already started 2 weeks ago. you didn’t want to see taehyun nor did you want to be the one to let down the project and ruin his grade. you somehow managed to successfully avoid him for the rest of the day, sometimes skipping a few classes. you didn’t go to the library like you were supposed to either. 

it hurt, but your brain told you that the only way to escape your feelings was to distance yourself from the boy. all the project work would go down the drain if you didn’t finish it, therefore you chose to go to the library at night one last time, hoping that he wouldn’t be there at such an ungodly hour. the place was quiet and deserted, with only a few people seemingly stressed out being scattered around the tables. you were a bit unsure what you were supposed to be looking for, since you didn’t have taehyun around to guide you anymore. you headed towards a familiar section and scanned the shelves for something that could help you conclude your essay. but while you were busy searching, you didn’t notice that one particular boy you were avoiding searching for you. you were startled when two hands suddenly entered your vision, hanging on to the shelf right above your head, trapping you.

“there you are” he breathed out.

you turned around with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in headlights. taehyun was right in front of you, looking at you with narrow eyes and a slight frown on his face.

“i was worried sick, i’ve been looking for you everywhere” he whispered

“i could say the same thing about yesterday” you replied trying to act coldly. your heart felt warm at the thought of him looking for you.

“yesterday….?”

“you ghosted me yesterday, you didn’t come to meet me nor did you bother to answer any of my messages.” you answered, blinking back your tears.

“i wanted to talk to you all day, but you didn’t even give me a chance to explain-” he furrowed his brows “i had an urgent meeting with the student council yesterday. mr. kim then asked me to retrieve a parcel for him and i left without realising that my phone was still in the meeting room. he took it for me and only returned it to me today after class. i wasn’t ignoring you on purpose. i know it seemed that way and i apologise. i would never do that, especially to you y/n.” he explained. you could tell that he was being sincere and you felt so bad for acting the way you did. why did you let those stupid thoughts push him away? you covered your face with your hands, you wanted to die of embarrassment. “i am so dumb tyun, i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have acted like that, i shouldn’t have been avoiding you i should have talked to you about it then-”

“hey, you’re not dumb.” he interrupted your stammer. he took your hands in his and kissed the inside of your wrist. then, he gently cupped your cheeks, his gaze softening when he noticed that you were holding back tears. “please, just don’t run away from me again.” he enveloped you in his warm embrace, and you accepted it, slowly wrapping your hands against his waist. this time, you were not going to run away.

“come on, let me help you finish this.” but just after he said that, the lights went out, covering you in complete pitch black darkness. you checked your phone. it was almost 1 am, way past the library’s closing time. you didn’t want to know what would happen if somebody were to find you there, so you both sneaked towards the exit. everything seemed to go too well. as you were passing through the hall, you could hear footsteps going down the staircase. without much thinking, taehyun quickly grabbed your hand and sprinted towards the janitor’s closet, shoving you in before the security guard could see you.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t risk him seeing us.” he whispered

once again, there was almost nothing but darkness surrounding you. you could barely make out taehyun’s face in the dim light of the closet, so close next to yours. you ended up in a similar position as earlier, taehyun trapping you between himself and the door, with his arms on each side of your head.

“we should probably stay in here for a bit more until it’s safe to go out. are you okay? you didn’t get hurt or anything, right?” you could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

“i’m good, don’t worry, but…tyun, can i ask you something?” he nodded in response “why did you decide to come looking for me so late?“

“why? why do think i didn’t just go on and act like nothing happened?” you looked down and gulped, unable to answer him. he gently lifted your chin up with his hand.

“do you think i like you?” he said trying to gaze into your eyes, looking for an answer. “that’s right…”, but there was a shift in his demeanour. his usual confident façade crumbled, he chuckled weakly and left his eyes on the ground, shoulders going down. “in fact, i like you so much that i can’t even stand the thought of being away from you. during this time where i haven’t been seeing you, i felt like i was going crazy.” you blushed at the boy’s confession. “oh, well then…that means that we both feel the same way” you whispered. you almost wanted to pinch yourself to see if this wasn’t a dream. kang taehyun, the boy who managed to steal your heart so easily, did actually like you back.

“i’m really glad to hear that” taehyun chuckled lowly. the cramped space didn’t allow for much distance between the two of you. you could feel his hot breath on your neck and the familiar scent of his cologne, warm chest on top of yours making you feel dizzy. without realising it, you were holding your breath. you prayed that he couldn’t hear the loud sound of your rapidly beating heart.

“do i make you nervous?”

you couldn’t see him clearly, but you knew that there was a smirk sneaking its way onto his face as he said that.

you didn’t reply this time. you could barely even handle his intense gaze on you, yet alone talk. he somehow got even closer, his lips sitting just a few centimeters apart from yours.

“can i kiss you...?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, unable to utter a single word. his hand cupped your face, thumb lightly brushing over your cheekbone. he waited for a short moment, as if to reconfirm your permission, then he finally closed the gap between your lips. his kiss was soft, yearning…his other hand grabbed your waist and you moved your hand to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. you found your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair as he kissed you passionately, biting your lip. you pulled away for a second to catch your breath, cheeks burning like they were on fire. taehyun took his glasses off with a swift movement and placed them in his chest pocket before going back to your lips, kissing you more. “we shouldn’t be doing this…” you managed to whisper between the kisses. he rested his forehead on top of yours. “unless we get caught, we’re not breaking any rules”. he started to trail down kisses on your neck, all the way down to your collarbone, not daring to go further and cross any barrier that would make you even in the slightest bit uncomfortable. “but what if we do…you’re class president and i don’t want to get you in trouble-” he pressed his lips against yours in an attempt to stop your ramble. “darling, if you continue talking, then we might actually risk getting caught.” your body was melting against his touch. you were so glad he was holding you because you were afraid your legs might actually give out from the intensity of the situation. he left a few more kisses on your swollen lips.

“as much as i’m enjoying this, we should probably make our move now. come on, let’s get out of here.” taehyun said quietly.

“only if you buy me a vanilla latte.” you replied. taehyun placed a sweet kiss on your forehead and grabbed your hand before making a run towards the exit.

“anything for you, darling.”

taglist: @huekalover3000

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

I’ve been simping over your ‘human’ Nomicon design since it came out in Ninja-November. If you have any headcanons about them, would you please share?

ah, a fellow monster/eldritch horror enjoyer I see! thank you! <3 tbh that Nomicon design was like an one day revelation, because while I love all the human!Nomi designs I've seen over the years (and there are some banger ones, man), it hit me that we as a fandom really underutilize all the uncanny aspects Nomi possesses. So ye. I do have a couple hc.

Nomicon is an entity that doesn't have its own face and voice.

Whenever Nomicon talks to Randy it uses proxies in form of art/images/drawings/scribbles/writings. It gives strangely non-verbal vibes for something so cryptically eloquent! And whenever it does use a voice, its voice of the First Ninja (or more accurately his VA xD) , its first owner/wielder. When it uses a face, its usually the static/unmoving marble-like faces of Art or silly pen scribbles - both of which hold that uncanny valley look of something that looks human but really isn't. Not to mention the fact that it once literally stole Randy's face/body to teach him a lesson.

I like to think that Nomicon has a library of faces/visages/voices it can take on, but all of them are creepily unsettling because - what would a book know about how to be human? It's face moves wrong, the eyes are too wide open, its body is creepily still, the voice uses inflections like its copying someone else (and sometimes voice warbles and changes/overlaps with other voices because it has so many).

All of it gives these fae/cryptid vibes of creatures that steal voices/faces to trick people, but in this case Nomicon collects those faces/voices from its owners along with their memories (which is another messed up thing we collectively forget is very creepy lol).

Nomicon is an entity that doesn't have a body, and most importantly - hands.

The reason I gave Nomicon so many shadow hands is because, well, Nomicon is a book. Hands hold those books, so the hands are very important to Nomi. All those shadow hands? Are memories of all the hands that held it (mostly previous Ninjas, but also the Creep and some others). It remembers everyone who held it.

The fit- the hat and the cape are kind of obvious, it look like center of the cover and the cape looks like covers on either side with pages underneath. The weirdest addition I made - is the spaghetti noodle-doodle 'hair'.

It constantly fascinates me that Nomicon, besides the Greek Key/9 motif, has those sort of concentration circles that are also present during Mask/Suit transformation. It gave me thought of sort of weird halos i guess?? Which adds to creepy vibe, but in this case its biblically accurate angel / holy deity type of vibes.

Nomicon has very basic understanding of humanity.

For all the experiences/memories/personalities it was created from and it absorbed over the years, human things are a rather alien concept for the book. It's the reason Nomicon is so bad at its timing whenever it buzzes Randy. It just doesnt care that you are at school Randy, its trying to teach you how to be a better ninja!!! In some sense, it absorbed the most prevalent quality of First Ninja - the dedication to duty, the whole reason for its existence - to serve Ninjas to be the best they can. So, such human/mortal things as good grades/video games/a good nights sleep are very nebulous concepts to it.

Less of a hc but more of an observation/gripe but-

COME ON ITS NAME??? Ninjanomicon as in Ninjanecronomicon??? Because lets be honest its not just a book/guide for Ninjas its a book full of DEAD NINJAS??? LIKE??? In some sense all previous Ninjas, when they go through Ultimate Lesson, 'die' in the real world (because they are no longer Ninjas) and are preserved in Nomicon. And First is like deadass dead? (Plop plop too lol). So I feel like there should be more creepiness about that.

Anyway thats basically most of it, and sorry for silly doodles but i cant really draw creepy stuff xD

[flusteredmoonn]

timless; remus lupin

summary: "you still would've been mine, we would've been timeless," in which their paths in life were always destined to meet, regardless of circumstance.

tags: (SFW), angsty, fluffy, post hogwarts aspects, fast paced, jumps through various points in time and timelines,, semi au?, canon divergence, she/her pronouns, third person y/n.

words: 1.2k+

speak now tracklist. request.

their shoulders were touching as they sat together in transfiguration, looking over the textbook inbetween them whilst mcgonagall explained some elaborate concept. behind them sat sirius and james, who incessantly threw animated pieces of parchment at the pair, making fun of their relationship.

y/n whipped around at them both, scowling, before turning back round and smiling at remus who laughed at his friends and continued to scrawl notes.

"your friends are ridiculous," she giggled quietly, as not to draw the professor's attention.

"they're your friends too," the boy smirked, reaching his hand up and ruffling the hair at the top of her head, to which she pushed his shoulder gently. "perhaps, but they indoctrinated you first," he expression didn't falter with her quip.

"touché."

before they knew it, the bell in the old clocktower rung out through the school and the class was ordered to gather their belongings. remus and y/n had taken their time, ignoring the hollering of their friends and taking their time in one another's company. both slung their book bags on their shoulders.

joyous gasps of laughter filled the atmosphere as they linked hands, swinging them together whilst walking to their next class. she couldn't help herself from cracking cheesy jokes to the boy about anything she saw. the simplicity of it warmed remus' chest, never imagining to feel so much lust toward one singular person.

the two had met in their third year in the library. remus had rushed there after having a fall out with his friends, their discovery of his condition only angering him as they offered pointless sympathy and offers in search of a solution. he had left to the library to find some quiet, and maybe even try to find one of the upcoming required reading books.

though sanctuary was not found in the library as it appeared nearly every other student at the school had decided to utilise the library at that exact same moment. frustratingly, he couldn't find any of the books he had been in search of either, and so he settled for a fictional book written by a wizard who speculated on the lives of muggles. and after settling for the book, the only available seat had been next to a girl he had recognised from his year, though he couldn't recall her name.

hesitantly, he walked over, asking for the seat. and eventually both their books were discarded and they had gotten to quietly talking as to not disturb madame pince, who despite her youth was a very angry lady. they had come to realise they were both very much alike, and hadn't separated since.

it was unimaginable to see how such a fitted match had found one another in their lifetime.

rain pelted down on the awning above the window of the bookshop. the bell to the shop rung out as remus pushed the door open. he wiped his feet on the bristled mat on the floor and shook out his umbrella before placing it on the rack.

y/n, the owner of the bookshop, peaked her head out from around the corner to greet whoever had entered her shop, a friendly smile on her face. although, upon seeing remus, she hesitated. unsure why, she had recognised him from somewhere. though she quickly shook her curiosity away and greeted the familiar man with her best customer service smile.

"it's miserable out, isn't it?" she said as she moved from the back of the shop to behind the register to organise paperwork.

"hm? oh yeah, its horrid outside," the man smiled at her, before resuming his search amongst the shelves. the shopkeeper smiled to herself before looking back to her paperwork. as she worked, remus glanced back toward her, turning to grab the first book he saw and approaching her.

"hey, whatd'ya think of this one?" he held the text up so she could read the title.

"uhmm, from what i can remember, it was a very intriguing read, though it isn't for everyone i'd say," she smiled, her service voice still in full swing, as a clap of thunder sounded shakily outside, the awning aggressively thumping against the window. smiling at her, remus turned the book over so that he could skim the blurb, though he had already read the book before, he wanted it to seem like the information was new to him from her response.

"would you like some tea...." she prompted for his name.

"remus" he smiled.

"would you like some tea, remus?"

the sound of cars honking along the busy streets of london ricocheted through the office. the clacking of the keyboards blended in with the chatter amongst the space, men in suits leaving meeting rooms as important people to the company made their way in and out of the building.

but, in a quiet corner of the space, remus and y/n sat in adjacent cubicles sending post-it note paper aeroplanes with crude messages on them, looking up from their desks in time to see the reaction has. giggles swarmed the atmosphere as their higher ups walked through the maze of cubicles, passing them both without any idea of what they were doing.

they had seen people be warned in the past, by human resources about what had been labelled as 'office romances' and how it was now considered a case of strictly romeo and juliet. not that either of them were in any sort of position to consider getting into a career jeopardising relationship. they were both in their early twenties, it wasn't a smart move. but they were in their early twenties, so the thrill of having something so hidden was insurmountable.

their dynamic worked. but they were never as secretive as they had thought they were. and naturally everyone in the office knew. at least everyone who didn't have the power to reprimand them.

eventually, remus' lunch break rolled around, being staggered half an hour before y/n and so the girl finally got around to do the work she was being paid to do. her fingers danced across the keys as she typed various statistical sentences and read over reports as footsteps echoing on the carpet approached her.

"y/n!" remus spoke as he adjusted his tie. "hey, rem," she looked up from the screen briefly to smile at the boy, "how was your break?"

"yeah, not bad.... lonely, though," he spoke with a coy smile.

"oh no? was no one else on break at the same time as you?" she questioned, the pause in her work became longer as she looked back to him, resting her chin in her hand.

"they were, but none of them were you," he leant down on the dividers between the offices, a self assured smile now gracing his face. y/n moved her hands to cover her face, "you're so silly, remus," a small laugh left her lips.

"what do you mean?" he stood back up, amusement evident.

"you're just such a flirt, this isn't allowed," she stated plainly, removing her hands from in front of her face and smiling up at him as he just shrugged.

"well, maybe getting in trouble would be worth it,"

[desire-mona]

siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.

(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)

- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.

- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.

- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.

- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.

- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.

- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.

- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!

- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.

- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.

- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.

- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)

- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)

- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.

this is the gender part

never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!

also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.

[phxntomsdusk]

It’s paying off - Tutor!Will x GN!reader

summary: being tutored by your crush finally pays off!

warnings: none<3 (this sucks cause it was so rushed)

tags: @ax-y10 , @joviepog (ask to be added)

word count: 683

Failing wasn’t fun. Especially when you need a tutor.

And that’s exactly where you are right now, getting extra help in the library after school for your classes. It sucked to say the least, but there was one plus side, your tutor was the smartest and possibly cutest guy in school. Will Gold.

You were happy your teacher recommended him to you, after all, you had been crushing on him for months at this point, but you never had the guts to talk to him. This finally gave you the chance!

You entered the library like always, making your way to your usual table and seeing Will. You instantly smiled, waving at him and blushing lightly as he waved back.

“Hey, good to see you.” He spoke softly as you sat down, gesturing for you to pull out the work you needed help with, to which you obeyed. “So, how was your day?” He began to pull out his things but kept glancing at you until you responded. “It was okay, hated lunch though, some kid threw Mac and cheese all over my table.”

He laughed lightly, opening up his laptop and grabbing your notebook, scanning over the notes you previously took. “Was it that Kyle guy? I heard he always does that stuff.” You nodded along, laughing along with him. “He does. This is the fifth time this year.” You rolled your eyes at the thought, trying your best not to stare at him.

The conversation quickly went from normal to school, he began asking questions about your lessons, which you had to answer without getting distracted by his smile.

For some reason there was a different tension in the air, he was acting different somehow. You didn’t know how or why, he just was.

The tutoring session came to an end after an hour as always, with Will helping you pack your things and walking you out to your car. But before you got inside he stopped you to ask a quick question.

“Hey, if you want we can continue back at my house. I live down the block so we could just drive there in your car.” He shrugged awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he waited for your response.

You just got the opportunity to go to his house, the boy you had been obsessing over for months, who would let that go? “Yeah, sure. Sounds good.” He got into the passenger seat of your car with a smile, waiting for you until he began small talk again.

The ride was short of course, the two of you sat at his dining table and continued to work on your assignments. The entire time you caught him staring at you, not in his usual way though, it was a new and different look than the ones you grew used to. “Will, you staring.” You waved your hand in front of his face, watching him simply smile and nod. “I know.” He sighed lightly, looking away and chewing at his bottom lip.

“Would you wanna go on a date?” His words caught you off guard. He was asking you on a date? He simply continued to erase some of the pencil scribbled on his paper, waiting for you to answer still.

It took a few seconds, but of course you agreed. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to.” You watched as his smile widened, looking at you as his hand continued to erase the pencil on the paper. “Movies on Saturday?” He raised a brow, his voice hopeful.

“Yeah, that works. Also, you’re gonna rip the paper if you continue to erase.” You chuckled lightly as he quickly stopped, wiping away the indane amount of shavings into the trashcan nearby. “Sorry, sorry. I got distracted by how pretty you are.” He smiled shyly and put his pencil down, scratching the back of his neck.

“Let’s get back on track!” He smiled and picked up one of your pens, beginning to explain the concept of whatever subject you were on.

Maybe tutoring was better than you thought. It’s finally paying off.

[toulousewayne]

Batfamily Shenanigans Pt: 4

Jason reading in the library with a cup of tea.

Tim: Jason

Jason: Mmm?*Sips Tea*

Tim:—Damian put laxatives in your tea this morning for using his favorite China cup.

Jason: *Sips tea all over the floor*

———

Batman at the Watchtower giving a oral debate discussion.

Flash: Bats what’s in your cape?

Batman: What are talking about? *Large lump in his cape on full display.*

Green Lantern (Hal): The massive lump in your cape!

*Cue a 6’2 over 200 lbs of muscle in a red helmet with two large pistols strapped to his thighs.*

Red Hood: Alfred wanted to know if you wanted Herb Crusted Salmon or Chicken Fingers for dinner?

Batman: Chicken tenders will do.

Red Hood turns to the League and waves: Hi Diana

Wonder Woman (warmly): Hello child.

Red Hood leaves, and Batman returns to his conversation.

Hal: *Internally about to combust*

————

Clark: So this is just normal day in the Wayne Residence?

Dick swinging upside from the chandelier, Tim throwing batarangs at Damian who’s chasing him running full force with a sharpie Katana, Cass braiding Bab’s hair while she’s on a FaceTime with Dinah and Helena, and Stephanie and Duke place stickers and sharpie drawing on Jason’s face as he snores loudly.

Bruce while sipping his coffee: Yes it’s just another Tuesday.

————

Dick serving Damian and Duke warm fluffy pancakes and fresh chopped fruits.

Damian: Grayson?

Dick: Yeah, lil Dee?

Damian: Did Pennyworth prepare this?

Dick (confused): No, I did.

Duke:When?

Dick: Just now. Eat up guys it’ll be time for me to take you guys to school soon. *Leaves kitchen whistling*

Duke (whispering): I thought he couldn’t boil water?

Damian: I was told the same information Thomas,I am just as surprised as you.

*Both begin to eat and surprisingly the food is tasty*

Tim:No way Dick made breakfast?!

Duke and Damian both share a confused look.

Duke: Wait so Dick had known how to cook this whole time, then why did you tell me he couldn’t?

Tim with a mouthful of pancakes:Yes it was a lie,I love when Dick cooks and I wanted be the only one to eat it.

Damian and Duke share another look.

Damian:I curse the day of your conception Drake.

Tim: Mhmm, are you gonna eat those?

Damian gives him the rest of his pancakes.

Dick returns to the kitchen dressed for the day: There’s some left, does anyone want seconds?

Tim with syrup all over his face and with a demonic voice: Gove it to me.

Dick,Duke, and Damian:………

————

Superman and Wonder Woman burst into the Batcave.

Superman: We got your destress call,what wrong?

Bruce turns in his chair to look at them: I didn’t issues a destress call.

Wonder Woman:Like Hera you didn’t, we got here as soon as we could.

Dick drops down from the ceiling.

Dick: I summoned you both here.

All: What for?

Alfred arrives with a smug look on his face: Master Dick thought it would be wise for you both to spend the day with Master Bruce he had been quite grumpy as of late.

Bruce: have not.

Dick: Has too.

Clark (chuckling): If you missed us you could have just called.

Bruce(grumpily): I did not.

Diana holding her Lasso in hand: Shall we test that theory?

Alfred clearing his throat:I have taken the liberty of preparing tea along with finger sandwiches and pastries in the sunroom if you both would follow me.

Bruce turns to Dick blankly: why would you do that.

Dick grinning evily: Payback for the Penguin case.

Bruce:That was two months ago.

Dick: I never forget B, remember that. Save a sandwich for me Alfred!

Bruce staring blankly into the cave before getting up and following: I have raised a monster.

[ya-bug-boy]

Can we get poly submas x DILF reader who has triplets from a previous marriage? Can you also make the triplets identical I just think that would be funny lol.

Poly Submas x Dilf Reader with Triplets

It's pretty obvious that people know who the twins are by this point. They're battle masters, train conductors, and are considered Unova's most sought after bachelors. You know them well actually, considering that they're your boyfriends.

You're a father of identical triplets, all girls. Every year you all dress up as Professor Utonium and the Powerpuff Girls. You always tell the girls that they can ask for a different themed costume but they insist on dressing up as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.

The girls are candy sweet, you love them so much! People often times have their own little nicknames for them. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, or Eenie, Miney, Mo, sort of names.

The girls from oldest to youngest are named: Momoka, Hana, and Akari. The girls are adopted and you all immigrated over to the Unova region after you were able to secure a better job for a life for all four of you.

The girls are a handful at times but you're quite thankful to have the twins as your boyfriends. When you first immigrated, you were showing the girls on how to ride the subways safely. They all attended the same private school. The four of you would ride together in the morning and then the girls would walk over to where you worked at the Nimbasa Library. You'd all get lunch and when you went back to work, the girls would do their homework and play on the computers until it was time to go home.

There was a time though, the girls wanted to go hang out with some classmates. You were obviously very worried about them going on their own so you insisted that they take one of your Pokemons with you. But at some point, the girls got lost in the subway station, at three separate locations, and were crying for your help in the group chat.

You immediately went to look for them, asking for help. You found one of your girls but then when you found Hana and Akari, they were with one of the twins. Hana had found Emmet, and somehow charmed her way into getting him to buy her a lollipop. Akari was with Ingo, the two holding hands together as her other hand held a toy he had given her. You thanked the twins profusely for their assistance.

Since that day forward, the twins became almost an integral part of your life. Somehow the three of you have similar work schedules and train routes. In the morning, you'd see the twins on the same train to Nimbasa from Anville Town. The girls were happy to see the twins, but after learning that Hana got candy, the other two girls often ask when they'd get their share. It was here that you explained to the twins that the girls learned the concept of sharing. On the occasion you don't buy singular treats, you buy them a big candy bar and tell them to share it evenly.

On the train rides back home, the girls are often talking to the twins about their day. Talking about their school subjects and what not. At least until they found out that Ingo and Emmet are among Unova's best trainers and then they get excited and ask many questions, including wanting to see their pokemon.

When you all arrive at the same destination for home, the girls insist that the twins come over for dinner. The twins at first are apprehensive, but the girls insist and beg for you to let them join. Thankfully you have enough food in the fridge to prepare a large meal for them.

What started off as a coincidence, then intentions, easily became domestic. You at first tried to keep your romantic life with the twins a secret from the girls, at least until you gave them an explanation on gay people. When they saw Emmet and Ingo give you a kiss on the cheek, they all screamed in delight.

Birthdays and holidays became bigger with them in your lives. You wouldn't have it any other way.

[awryval]

death of an author, reclamation, and you

"We never are what we intend, or invent 'Cause I make little lies and then I pull them apart Think something dark's living down in my heart And if I wanted to die before I got old I should've started some years ago digging that hole"

Brand New. "At the Bottom." Daisy, 2009.

Brand New was among one of my favorite bands in high school, and I still listen to them today. Their music is important to me and shaped a big part of who I am. Their lyrics about being tortured, burnt-out, and choking on the weight of your own self-perceived flaws are relatable! Their compositions ooze with a level of self-hatred that can only be genuine. It's utterly depressing, and I adore it!

That's not not the full story, though. Jesse Lacey, the vocalist of Brand New, is a sexual predator. This informs everything about how the music of Brand New is. It's self-loathing for a very good reason. I love Brand New. I condemn Jesse Lacey. These two statements coexist. I used to be a part of the /r/brandnew subreddit, and when the allegations against Jesse Lacey came out in 2017, many redditors of that sub were quick to claim "death of the author." After all, the band had broken up immediately after the news broke, and they had also cancelled their tours. Currently, the people using that subreddit mostly talk about buying old BN merchandise and discuss what their favorite concert memories were. Jesse Lacey himself confirmed that the allegations against him were true, so there isn't much debate to be had. The subreddit serves as a monument for fans who still enjoy the music, and as a platform to speak about it with like-minded fans.

In my opinion, claiming "death of an author" is a slippery slope. We can't always claim that Miku is the creator of Minecraft. But often, we see that that is the response people have when a creator is outed to be problematic; "I still like the thing So-and-So made, so I will ignore that the creator exists!" The reason that this worked for Miku Minecraft is because, by the time that Notch was publicly making transphobic comments, he did not own Minecraft anymore. The joke is quite literally that he does not own the thing that people like. He sold it to Microsoft, so he doesn't get royalties from it anymore. You can play Minecraft devoid of supporting its original creator. This joke works so well because it is an actual case of the death of an author! That's great and all for Minecraft, but what about other instances? What happens when we claim "death of the creator" erroneously? And why are we so obsessed with this concept anyway?

So like, back to Brand New... they released their last album, Science Fiction, back in August 2017. The allegations came out later that same year. I own all of Brand New's discography physically, including their last release. I bought most of it off eBay when I was 15. I was not supporting them post-allegations. But that leaves me with a lingering question- what do I do with all these CDs that I still very much enjoy the music of? From how I see it, there are two firm camps on this topic:

Camp 1: You know about Lacey's crimes now and his music cannot be separated from his actions. Solution: Throw your CDs away.

Camp 2: It's something you bought without knowledge of Lacey's crimes, so you should enjoy it anyway. Death of an author! Solution: Continue as usual.

I'm not fond of either of these answers. They come off as too polarized for a situation that is the entire Pantone swatch library of grays. "But, how are there any shades of gray when its clear that Jesse Lacey is in the wrong?" I want to provide some counter questions for you to think about:

What about the other people in the band? You might not be directly supporting the sexual predator anymore, but there are other victims here too- effectively his band mates lost their jobs overnight. (Another example would be LOSTPROPHETS)

Is it feasible to destroy each object you own because it was created under problematic circumstances? When or when isn't this the case? Does it apply to your cup of coffee? Does it apply to the clothes you wear? What about any product with palm oil in it? What about the hardware in your computer? If you look into any company, you're going to find some horrific things you don't like about it. The takeaway here is that it isn't beneficial to treat situations like these as black or white. I don't think that destroying my CDs is going to do anything to take away the abuse that Jesse Lacey caused. Nor do I think ignoring the context of his music will do anyone any favors. The music he made is a product of his crimes. To ignore that fact would be disingenuous to why people enjoy his music and why the music exists in the first place. There's another element here, though. I, and many others, are no longer monetarily supporting Jesse Lacey. You can't even officially support the release of Brand New's music anymore as their record label (Procrastinate! Music Traitors) doesn't even seem to have a functioning website anymore? Regardless, I wouldn't want to support his music in a way that supports him, anyway. Yes, I enjoy the music and the themes of it, but I do not want to be directly supporting abuse that happened BECAUSE he was a vocalist in a band. And I can safely do this with CDs that I bought secondhand, right? This is death of the author. So what's the issue?

I believe there is an issue when people claim “death of the author” far too quickly and scramble to reclaim the media for themselves. It’s an increasingly popular trend these days to pluck characters/concepts from an author deemed to be problematic. "I'll save [Character I like] from this shitty piece of media!", they claim. I don't think people realize how multifaceted in effect that is, though. For instance, if the author is actively making money from their creation, you can't truly "reclaim" a character from them. It's more like you're paying homage to them with fanart.

My best on-going example of this would be Floraverse. There are a multitude of reasons why people do not like the author/s of Floraverse, which I will not go into here. To put it simply, though, since its inception in 2013, many artists and writers involved with Flora either left or were kicked out. These artists either directly contributed to the art and worldbuilding of the webcomic, or were heavily influenced by it. To this day, there are many times someone links me to art on Discord and I’ll say “oh I remember that person, they used to be a Flora fanartist!” and the other person is absolutely floored that that artist was ever linked to Floraverse. Anyway… There have been multiple attempts at people trying to reclaim Floraverse from the author, and this never works out. Like, it really doesn’t work out. Any time that someone tries to reclaim Floraverse characters for themselves whilst condemning the author, that person is dogpiled by the Floraverse community. Which is a weird behavior for a CC BY-SA webcomic, but I digress. Here are some highlights:

In 2019, there was a thread dedicated to Redesigning Floraverse that immediately got taken over by Floraverse itself a month later.

An artist got harassed for multiple years (I think it was 2020-2023) for having an oc based on Beleth, a character in Floraverse.

Just 2 months ago, an artist got harassed for drawing fanart of the characters

Historically, reclaiming Floraverse characters from the author hasn't worked out. And I mean.. why would it? It's an actively running "webcomic" (I'll be charitable) and with an active community that supports the author's current works and views with their wallets. It's one thing to enjoy a piece of media with a problematic author and want to reclaim that media for yourself. It is another for this reclamation to actually be effective. Attempts of "reclaiming" Floraverse get written off as fanworks that the community dislikes. You cannot reclaim Floraverse characters as they do not exist in a vacuum. Listening to secondhand Brand New CDs does work in a vacuum; Jesse Lacey's career is dead in the water. The same cannot be said for reclaiming the art of Glitchedpuppet and co. Floraverse characters and stories are not divorced from the abuses they cause. Characters will be used as strawmen to abuse community members, past or present. Or entire works will be up dedicated to making light of your childhood trauma! These characters were made by an abuser, and will be used to abuse. That is a simple fact about Floraverse. Except... in that statement, I'm not even talking about Glitchedpuppet, the current author of Floraverse. I'm talking about Marlcabinet, the previous author of Floraverse. This statement does however, apply to both of them. Hey, wait a minute, that's weird! I've been talking about "death of the author" for this entire post, and I just said that reclaiming Floraverse characters can't work because the way the characters were used to abuse real people doesn't exist in a vacuum. So like, why does this work within the Floraverse webcomic itself? Marl is the abuser of Glip, but Marl is also the author of the majority of early Floraverse. Isn't the story itself, as it currently stands, an act of reclaiming characters used to abuse community members, minors, and any detractors? Then who is to say that those who contributed to Floraverse and were similarly abused are not also allowed this same privilege? Their real-world suffering is what fuels the comic. When I was 13-16, I adored a Floraverse character named Cayenne. His whole deal was that he was an autistic child slave and was horribly abused by everyone around him. Weird character to connect to, but he’s the character that made me figure out I had autism! I drew a LOT of fanart of this character and I even own a (gifted) life-size plush of him. The authors only ever treated him as a joke and it was a joke even within the Floraverse community that I was the only person who actually liked/cared about him. Sometimes I think about reclaiming him for myself. But I also don’t want to get harassed, and I know I could design much better things, and write better things. Conversely, I also think about how this is the exact character that made me get into contact with Marl when I was 16. It’s a heavy weight to carry knowing that this exact character was the reason I was almost in the clutches of a child predator. Glip personally deferred me to him. Reclaiming Cayenne would hold emotional value for me as a reminder of my triumph over a predator. Would it be wrong for me to reclaim an abused child character from a comic that abused me and many others as children? I've no clue. And I don't think anyone can answer that. I've waffled on it for ~2 years now. Reclaiming Cayenne would give attention to an individual that profits off abusing others, myself included. I'd say that reclaiming Floraverse characters wouldn't be a case of "death of the author", but the original creator of them was a child predator that's no longer on the internet. Floraverse is already practicing death of an author, and it is a shell of its former self. That being said, it is not a story that only has one author. Its other authors are still active, and these authors include every person that it has abused in its wake. After all, it's a comic that relies on you to know about its dramas with and traumas of real people. Tell me: Does a death of the author matter when its being written about you?

[agaypanic]

Okokok so what if the reader is a part of the more popular crowd but is secretly really nerdy and owns like every superhero comic book known to man. And Rory being Rory is like madly in love with her already because she's just really pretty plus she helped him once so now he's like head over heels. But anyways what if the gang are at a comic book shop but see the reader there and like to confront her by asking why she's there and she basically just starts RAMBLING on and on and on about how big of a fan she is of these comic books. And Rory just falls even more in love with her(if that's even possible) and like he just puts his hands on her cheeks to make her shut up and just says "you're the girl of my dreams" and like kisses her BOOM! EVERYONE SHOCKED!! BOOM HAPPY ENDING!!

Girl of My Dreams (Rory Keaner X Reader)

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Summary: Rory Keaner was already heavily infatuated with Whitechapel’s pride and joy, Y/n L/n. But when he finds out she’s a nerd, he falls even harder for her.

A/N: Reader nerds out over scooby doo bc I nerd out over scooby doo, you wouldn’t believe how much I talk about it irl. So yea reader and Rory bond over scooby apocalypse (it’s like the only comic I own) and scooby lore, this fic is kinda just me projecting lmao

***

It was no secret that Rory was head over heels for Y/n L/n, one of the most popular girls in Whitechapel. His friends had tried to get his head out of the clouds because there was no way a popular girl would fall for a nerd. Rory thought that was an outdated concept. Eventually, the gang let him have his delusions because his infatuation seemed to be more than the fleeting crushes he had had on others in the past.

Rory thought he had more of a chance with Y/n than with his past crushes. For one, she actually acknowledged and talked to him without being forced to, like being paired together for a school project. She didn’t push him away when he’d go up to speak to her, despite the looks her friends would give him for just approaching them. Y/n seemed engaged in their conversations, making Rory’s dead heart flutter when she’d add on to something he’d say instead of wondering what he was talking about.

“She’s not just hot, Benny!” Rory argued with his friend as he and the gang walked around an outlet mall. The girls wanted to go shopping, and the boys thought that would be the perfect opportunity to look for things to add to their game and comic collection. “She’s really nice and sweet and funny and hot!”

“I’m just saying that maybe you shouldn’t get your hopes up too high, Rory.” Benny sighed, trying not to crush his spirits. “I mean, have you thought that maybe she’s nice to you because she’s popular and doesn’t wanna seem like a bitch in front of people?”

“Don’t say that about her, Benny! Besides, we’ve talked in private before. And she’s just as nice, maybe even nicer!”

“When have you talked to her in private, Rory?” Ethan asked. He half regretted asking because Rory got even more excited.

“Okay, so I was in the library, right? We had some research project, and I was trying to find a book. Well, Y/n was also in the library, and she came up to me asking if I was looking for something. Turns out, we were looking for the same book, so when we found it, we took notes on it together. Did you know she color codes her notes?”

“I learn something new about her every day,” Benny muttered. Erica decided to butt in.

“Guys, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but stop being so hard on Y/n.” Benny and Ethan looked at her, confused. Erica never passed up an opportunity to rag on somebody. But to be fair, she usually ragged on them. “I remember before I became a vampire, she was like the only popular girl who didn’t treat me like trash or like I was invisible.”

That convinced the group a bit more about Y/n. Rory was very imaginative, while Erica was blunt and didn’t care too much about hurting someone’s feelings if what she was saying was honest. One of the boys was going to say something when Rory gasped.

“Guys, I found the comic store!” He raced to the door as fast as he could without using his vampire speed. The rest ran after him, trying not to get hit by the door he whipped open. Rory sped to the comic section as the rest casually looked around. Ethan was in the games section when Rory came back, running into him.

“She’s here!” Rory whispered in a panic.

“Who’s here?” Ethan asked, startled, looking over Rory to see who he was talking about.

“Y/n!” Rory said sharply, looking back for a moment to see if she had heard her name. “She’s in the comic section; what do I do?”

“Go talk to her?” Ethan was confused. Rory was going on and on about how Y/n was so nice and easy to talk to. He didn’t understand what was stopping him from doing so now.

“It’s not that easy! Yeah, at school, it’s fine. But this is, like, out in the open. This is unexplored territory, E!”

“No, it’s not, Rory.” Ethan put his hands on Rory’s shoulders, trying to get him to focus. “You can do this, man. You’re in a place you’ve been in about a thousand times. You’ve talked to Y/n enough times to the point where you’re comfortable enough to go up to her on your own. This should be like a dream scenario for you.”

Rory stared off, thinking about what Ethan was saying. He was right. Y/n was now in his territory, without any of her judgemental friends around her. Talking to her should be a breeze.

“Come on, Rory, go talk to her.” Rory was startled when Ethan started pushing him. He almost stumbled over his feet as Ethan shoved him toward the comics before walking back to the game he was looking at. Rory looked down the aisle. Y/n was still there, looking at a shelf. He took a deep breath before strolling over to her.

“Hey-” Rory cleared his throat, his voice coming out a bit high out of nervousness. “Hey, Y/n. What are you doing here?”

The girl turned to him, immediately smiling at his presence. Rory felt butterflies rapidly flapping around in his stomach. 

“Hey, Rory! I’m just here looking for some comics that I’m missing from my collection.” Y/n picked a comic off the shelf. “You know, I’m kinda surprised this is our first time running into each other here.”

“Really?” Rory asked, sneaking a peak at the comic Y/n had picked out.

“Yeah, I mean, I come here-”

“No way! You like Scooby Apocalypse too?” Y/n looked down, realizing he was looking at what was in her hand. She grinned at the fact that he recognized it.

“Yeah! I love Scooby Doo, especially when they have a cool concept like this.” She looked back at the shelf and found another comic in the series that she was missing. “Although, I have to say that my favorite Scooby media has got to be the Mystery Incorporated series.”

“I loved that show!” Rory grinned. As if Y/n wasn’t perfect enough in his eyes, he also discovered that she was a bit of a nerd like him.

“The storytelling is so good! Like finding out that the mystery gang was all connected to the previous group that disappeared and Fred finding out he’s the son of two of the members! Oh my gosh, don’t even get me started on finding out that Scooby’s the descendant of creatures from a whole different dimension, and that’s why he can talk.” Y/n didn’t notice Rory looking at her like a lovesick puppy, thoroughly entranced by her rambles. “Did you know that Anunnaki, the creatures, was actually a group of gods in the Mesopotamian pantheon? So like, Scooby could actually be seen as a descendant of gods! I feel like the writers of the show put so much effort into-”

“God, I wanna kiss you so bad right now,” Rory said dreamily. Y/n paused her ramble, looking at him in surprise. Rory soon also became surprised at what he had just said.

“You wanna kiss me?” Rory realized that she didn’t look disgusted or weirded out. She smiled softly at him, waiting for an answer. He took a deep breath to get the courage to speak.

“Yeah.” He nodded, watching her smile get bigger.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.” Y/n shrugged, taking a step closer to him. 

All fear washed away at her words. Rory stepped closer to her until there was barely any space between them. He cupped her cheeks with both hands.

‘She looks even more pretty up close.’ Rory thought as he took one final look at her for confirmation before pressing his lips to hers. One of Y/n’s hands left the comics she was holding to hold the back of his neck, drawing him more to her as their gentle kiss continued. 

One of his hands slid down to rest on the small of her back. He gripped the fabric of her sweater as if none of this was real and she would fade away. But it was happening, and nothing could tear them away from this moment.

Until they heard a ‘whoop!’ and broke apart suddenly as if they had just remembered they were in a public place. Rory’s hand on Y/n’s back pushed her closer to him like he was scared that being found so close to him would scare her away. But instead, she leaned into him as her head whipped toward the source of the noise.

“Go, Rory!” The boy looked like a deer in headlights at his friends, who were crowded at the end of the aisle. They all looked both surprised and proud of him for finally making a move, even more surprised that Y/n reciprocated the kiss.

“Uh, a little privacy?” Rory laughed awkwardly, even though they were in public. The friend group quickly nodded and dispersed, acting like they were focused on other things while secretly listening to Rory start to talk to Y/n.

“If that kiss didn’t show it, I really like you, Y/n.” He smiled nervously. “You’re like the girl of my dreams.” Y/n laughed.

“Well, in case my kissing you back didn’t show it, I really like you too, Rory.” 

“You’re even more perfecter than I thought you were.”

“‘Perfecter’ isn’t a real word in that context, Rory,” Sarah commented, forgetting that she and the gang weren’t supposed to be eavesdropping.

“Hey!” He looked at her offended before being drawn back to Y/n by a hand on his cheek.

“I think you’re just as perfect, Rory.” He giggled when she leaned in to kiss his cheek. From the corner of his eye, he saw the friends look at him expectantly, like he was supposed to do something. He racked his brain on what he should say.

“There’s an arcade nearby,” Rory said suddenly. “I have some money and… If you don’t mind, I really wanna keep hanging out with you.”

“I’d like that a lot.”