#whatever it was that he wrote was so bad that when the professor saw it it startled him so bad that he was

[tiredg0ds]

i hate living in america lol

[malfoyswand]

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

summary: your best friend, draco malfoy, plans a surprise to ask you to the yule ball.

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff

warnings: none, just soft draco :)

author's note: thank you to the lovely reader who requested this, it's my first request so i really hope i did this justice! also yes, i got a little inspired by that one gilmore girls episode with the 1000 flowers for the proposal lol

➪ masterlist | requests

"Mate, I think you're overthinking this."

Blaise Zabini reported his opinion of the matter, but Draco Malfoy barely comprehended a word he had spoken. The only things on his mind were (Y/N) and of course, the bloody Yule Ball.

If he was honest with himself, Draco was at least partially excited for the dance. He knew it was meant to be one of the greatest nights he may ever experience while at Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure if he would. The dance was only a week away and somehow, Draco found himself without a date.

If anything, the Yule Ball was making him nervous.

"I'm not, Zabini!" He spoke quite loudly, then softened his voice as he realized students had looked their way. "This needs to be perfect, alright? This is (Y/N) we're talking about, you know how I feel about her."

Blaise couldn't help but sigh, with a smile on his lips as the two of them walked to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was quite a feat for Malfoy to tell Blaise that he had romantic feelings for his best friend, (Y/N). Blaise knew that Draco dreaded being seen as anything but tough to the world, the fact that a girl had this much control over his emotions spoke volumes. 

"Exactly my point, Malfoy. She's been your best friend since first year, I doubt she would ever be disappointed or angry with whatever you come up with. Besides, she's just a girl. Just ask her to the ball like how you would ask a girl out on a date."

"Er.. well.." Draco began to speak, the hand that wasn't holding his books scratching the back of his neck. The two of them finally stopped walking besides the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Blaise's eyes widening as he tried to hide his laughter.

"You're telling me that Draco Malfoy has never been on a date before? Merlin!" His laughter echoed down the chamber, earning him a scoff and a playful shove inside the classroom by Draco. "Sorry, sorry. I just thought that with every other girl in this school begging to be your date to the dance, you would've taken at least one of them on a date." His voice was spoken quietly, careful that the other students wouldn't hear their conversation.

Draco shook his head as the two of them sat down in their seats, pulling out their books and parchment. "No. I've turned them all down. They're just not her, know what I mean?"

"You're down bad, mate." Blaise smirked slightly to himself, whispering the only advice he could really offer his friend. "Listen, girls like being asked out in a personal way. You know the kind of things (Y/N) likes, all you have to do is make it special and she'll be swooning."

"Right." Draco mumbled to himself as Professor Moody began to teach his lesson. However, he certainly wasn't thinking about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Instead, Draco glanced over to where you sat across the room. He knew you better than anyone, yet he had no idea how to ask you to the Yule Ball.

That was when the idea struck him. The new bag you bought last week caught his eyes, he noticed the way the bag had intricate floral designs sewn into it. A memory replayed in Draco's mind. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he wrote on a spare piece of parchment, folding it into a paper crane before sending it your way.

Your hands caught the paper crane, grinning as you knew exactly who it was from. You tried to ignore the way your heart seemed to skip a beat each time you saw one fly towards you. On the piece of parchment, it read:

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower tomorrow morning before breakfast? - D.M.

You lifted his gaze to meet his awaiting gray eyes, your head nodding before turning back to the professor's lesson. Draco did the same, but his mind was already running through a mental checklist on all the supplies he had to get to make his idea come to life.

The next morning, you woke up wondering why in Godric's name you decided to meet up with Draco this early in the morning. The sun was just starting to rise outside the window, and none of your other roommates were even awake. You groaned as quietly as you could, practically tiptoeing around the dorm bedroom to avoid waking everyone else.

As you brushed your hair in the girls' lavatory, you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter around again. You cursed yourself under your breath as you tried your best to focus on your breathing.

Lately, being near Draco Malfoy has always made you more excited than you really ought to be. Of course, he was your best friend so you had always been excited. But now, even one glance at him caused a warmth to glow within your chest. The feeling was a foreign one.

As you walked through the castle towards the Astronomy Tower, that warm feeling in your chest arose again as you caught sight of him. He was pacing near the entrance door, mumbling as if he was rehearsing something. You cleared your throat as you walked towards him, Draco stopping in his tracks.

"(Y/N)." He spoke your name, his lips forming into a soft smile. "Thanks for meeting up with me, I know it's a bit early for you." His tone was playful, he knew you were not much of a morning person. 

"About that, why so early in the morning, Malfoy?" You gently shoved his shoulder, he only laughed in response. He opened the Astronomy Tower door entrance, his hand indicating for you to step inside first. 

"You will see."

You walked up the long set of stairs up the tower. You couldn't see the fact that Draco was a nervous wreck behind you, his hands having to wipe themselves on his slacks to remove the sweat from his palms. As much as you hated to wake up this early in the morning, you knew the views up from the tower would be gorgeous. Draco knew that the Astronomy Tower was, quite honestly, your favorite place to admire the landscape.

“Oh my..” Your body stopped in its tracks once the two of you reached the highest level of the tower. Your eyes couldn’t take in your surroundings fast enough it seemed.

It was as if every surface of the tower was covered in red roses. Somehow, someone must have placed hundreds of roses in vases, scattering them around almost every corner of the room. The light shining into the tower only amplified their beauty, it was as if each petal seemed to come alive as the sun continued to rise.

“D-Did you know these flowers were here?” You stuttered as you started to pace around the room slowly, your fingertips grazing upon almost every petal there was. Their beauty took your breath away.

“I did.” Draco bit his bottom slightly as he watched you, desperate to know your reaction. He couldn’t tell if you liked or hated them. “They’re for you, actually.”

Your eyes darted from the roses you were admiring to Draco, your body facing his. Although you were truly flattered, the idea of him doing all of this for you made your head spin with so many questions. You knew Draco Malfoy better than he may ever know himself, you had never seen him do anything this nice or extravagant for anyone before. 

“You said a couple of weeks ago that you wish spring would come along so you can watch the flowers bloom again. Of course, it’s only December, as we can all see.” Draco answered your question, a slight chuckle falling from his lips as he pointed outside of the tower. More snowflakes began to fall, covering the castle with even more snow.

“So, I thought to bring the flowers to you. And I only assumed you liked roses, from your bag.” His eyes went from watching the snowflakes outside to your bag that was decorated with tiny red roses around it. Since when did Draco notice something so mundane, like a new tote bag?

“I just.. don’t know what to say.” Your voice came out as a whisper. Him decorating the entire Astronomy Tower with roses, just because you said you missed the spring and summer flowers, was entirely insane. You couldn’t come up with the words, so all you could do was step forward to hug him tightly.

Within an instant, you felt Draco’s arms wrap around your waist, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He closed his eyes, smiling softly to himself out of relief and joy. He was relieved and happy that you had liked the surprise, but he knew what he must do, even though it terrified him.

“That’s not the end of the surprise.” He said as he slowly pulled away from the hug. All of a sudden, it was as the boy became aware of every heightened emotion he was feeling. “But I must do this properly..”

Your eyebrows raised as you watched him turn around, picking up one of the red roses from their vases. If you weren’t convinced you were dreaming at the moment, you would have sworn you saw a small bit of sweat on Draco’s forehead as he looked towards you.

“I-er..” He took a step forward towards you, any closer and your bodies would have made contact. With a deep breath to calm himself, he handed the rose to you. “Would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me, as more than just a friend?”

Your lips slightly parted as you took the rose from him. You had slowly been falling for your best friend for the past four years, but you had convinced yourself that the Slytherin Prince would never fall for you. For four years, you had thought that he would never settle for you, when every other girl in this school begged for him just to look their way.

Once you realized you had failed to give an answer, you closed your mouth and smiled in his direction. “I would love to, Draco.” You responded, stepping forward once more to close the gap between you two. You pressed your lips softly to his cheek.

When you pulled away, you realized that Draco’s cheeks were slightly pink as his eyes widened. You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the sight. Draco Malfoy was notorious for being the calm, collected one of the two of you. Seeing him as, essentially, a nervous wreck over you caused that warmth to be felt in your chest again.

“Who would have thought I could make Draco Malfoy this nervous?” You joked, attempting to calm his apparent nerves.

“Who said I was nervous?” He scoffed just as playfully, grabbing a few more roses to hand to you. You took them in your hands, smelling their pleasant aroma as you followed him back down the staircase.

“Malfoy, you were just as red as these roses.”

[festivalsofmargot]

Pretty Thoughts {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Sebastian is down bad for you, my dear reader. But a lot of overthinking on your part makes you blind to it. So, his only option is to keep chasing after you. Takes place after MC meets Anne and before Seb’s final mission. Your Hogwarts house is up to you.

Word Count: ~2700

Warnings: Kissing, Teen Angst

Author’s Note: This is an (un)official Part 2 to Pining in Potions Class. I like writing one shots that could go together if you’d like, but you definitely don’t need to read any other stories to know what’s going on. I love the idea of a clingy Sebastian. Teens finding their first love can feel amazing but they also don’t know how to act. All they know is they want to be with that person at all times.

Songs (if interested):

Kill the Director - The Wombats

Whatever You Like - Single Version - Anya Marina Cover

Wallpaper - Matt Watson

How Long - TALK

You had found Sebastian around you a lot more lately, not that you minded. You enjoyed it, actually. But at the same time, it kept you on edge. Though you hadn’t known the Slytherin for long, this behavior seemed very out of the ordinary for him. When you were first getting to know him, he would be brief and to the point with you, then he was off. He was always prioritizing practicing new spells in the undercroft or going over every book he could get his hands on from the restricted section. 

At first, you thought maybe he had a falling out with Ominis, but then you saw them walking into the dining hall seemingly fine with each other. And then, you made yourself paranoid it had something to do with Anne’s health. But to your relief, he updated you on something funny she wrote in her latest letter to him.

Your early conversations mainly consisted of discussing the things he had found in Salazar Slytherin’s spell book, but that was only a small portion of the time these days. More often than not, the two of you weren’t saying anything at all. He was just there with you. Whether it be studying, laying in the grass and basking in the sun, or sitting with you at breakfast going over some last minute homework. 

He was getting dangerously close to you lately too. He might not have thought anything of it. But you on the other hand? Your mind went reeling. Every time you were together, he would do something simple that made your stomach dance with butterflies. He’d brush your fingers with his, lay his head on your lap while you laid in the grass, and touch his shoulder against yours whenever you sat together in the dining hall.

It was your final class of the day, and you were barely paying attention, your mind thinking back on those light touches you and Sebastian shared. Looking up from your notes to sneak a glance at him, you found he was already staring back at you. The both of you quickly averted your eyes.

With Professor Hecat’s dismissal, all the students made their way out of the classroom. Sebastian caught up to your side.

“Have to cancel our library session. I need to meet with Ominis. Can I still try to see you later?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes, as if he needed you to confirm he could, in fact, see you later.

“O-Of course, Sebastian. I’ll probably be in the library for the rest of the night if you need me.”

He gave you a small smile and nod of his head. He took a few steps backwards to leave, keeping his eyes on you a moment longer, then he turned and went on his way.

- 

Rubbing at your eyes, you were relieved to be nearly done with all of your homework. It was the weekend now, you didn’t need to worry about finishing it all that night, but Sebastian hadn’t come to see you yet. So you stayed a bit longer than anticipated. It was getting late and everyone was gone except for you and Madam Scribner at her desk at the library entrance. 

You’d feel bad if Sebastian showed up and you weren’t there to at least tell him you were done and heading to bed. But if you were too tired, you were too tired. Sebastian wouldn’t be crushed if he turned up and you were gone... right?

You shook the thought from your head and rubbed at your blushing cheeks with the back of your hand. Sebastian doesn’t feel that way about you, he needs to focus on helping his sister. If he wants anything more, he’ll tell you. But then you began thinking about all his small touches again, pulling yourself back into the fantasy.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you knew you needed a distraction. You decided to get up from your table and explore the shelves for another book. Nothing education related, there had to be something in this humungous library that was just meant for enjoyment. Some fictional story to take your mind off of everything.

Aha! You believed you found just the book. You couldn’t quite tell from the cover, but the title was “My Beloved”. That sounded like a romance novel, right? Plucking the book from the shelf and running your hands across its bindings, you made your way back to your table. Not wanting to sit thanks to the lingering nerves, you opened up the book to a random page and read it over to see if your prediction on the content was correct.

You found it was a romance that took place in a small village. Before you knew it, you were engrossed in the story, picturing yourself and Sebastian as the main characters who were in love. You slowly placed both of your hands on the table, leaning on them as you kept reading, forgetting you could sit back down. It’d really come to this, you were so head over heels for him you were picturing the two of you in a romance novel. A dreamy sigh escaped your lips.

“What are you reading?” Sebastian asked, coming up to your side. Your attention snapped to him. He chuckled at your startled expression and very red complexion. “Uh oh, catch you reading something interesting, did I?” 

"Um...”, You started, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Your mind was still recovering from the romantic scenarios you were just picturing the two of you in. 

Shaking your head and avoiding his gaze, Sebastian took this to mean you were upset with him. His heart sank. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Ominis and I decided to try a new spell and it took us forever to figure out. I was so focused on getting it right, I lost track of time. You’re not leaving soon, are you?”

You gave a small wave of your hand, dismissing his apology. “It’s alright, Sebastian. I got caught up here and... well, lost track of time myself.” You slid the book away from him, slowly closing it, hoping you didn’t look suspicious.

But, of course, Sebastian thought you looked suspicious. He raised a questioning brow at you and glanced at the book.

“What?” You asked innocently, turning away from him and looking down at the romance novel, firing off ideas in your head of how you’d put it away without him figuring out what it was.

“That book you got there. Why are you acting so secretive? Did I catch you reading something interesting after all?” Sebastian got closer, leaning one hand on the table next to the book and peering at it over your shoulder. His chest pressing up against your back. There he went again, giving you the slightest touch and driving you mad. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, intoxicating you. In that moment, you were tempted to yank him close and bury your face in his neck.

He turned his head to look at you for an answer, but you couldn’t get yourself to look back. He was so close, his lips were so close. You could make out his freckles out of the corner of your eye, feel his breath against your skin. Did he know what kind of effect he had on you? Was he teasing you? Your lips were moving to speak but no words would come out.

He gave you a playful nudge with his shoulder, prodding you to answer him. “Come on, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

And it wasn’t that bad, at most he would tease you for reading a romance novel. What was holding you back at this point was how nervous Sebastian was making you. As if you weren’t tense enough, he took it a step further and placed both of his hands on either side of you on the table, trapping you in. He rested his chin on your shoulder, taking another peek at the book.

“I never realized how much taller I am than you.” He chuckled, chest humming against your back. Keeping you in place, his callused hands grabbed yours to remove them from covering the title of the book. He held your hands in his while he read it over, then he gave a quiet, amused hum.

You turned in his arms and he lifted his head off your shoulder to meet your gaze. He smiled at you, but it faded when he saw your face. 

“What’s wrong?”

Finally facing him, even with how close he was, your desire took over your reason. And, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to be selfish. “You make me nervous, Sebastian.” You told him in a low tone.

He didn’t think you looked nervous at all. Something was written on your features but he certainly wouldn’t call it ‘nervous’. Your eyes were dark and you licked at your lips. It was brief but it caught his eye, seeing a quick glimpse of your tongue made his head race with all sorts of thoughts.

You too glanced at his lips, not caring if it was obvious what was on your mind.

Seeing your eyes shamelessly stare at his mouth, he froze. He was afraid if he made one wrong move, you’d run. He had wanted to kiss you for a while now, and right then it looked like you wanted to kiss him too. 

Then you did, and his heart went rapid. He had been convinced you could feel it when your hands moved up along his chest until one snaked around his shoulders and the other rested on his neck. His hands left their place on the table to grab your waist, pulling you closer, holding you in place. His warmth enveloped you.

You pulled away to kiss at Sebastian’s neck and his knees went weak. You kissed around the area you pictured he sprayed his cologne. You took an inhale and breathed out, “I always loved this scent on you.” You kissed at the area one more time, sending a pleasant tickling sensation up the back of his neck. His fingers dug deeper into your waist.

You go back to kissing his lips, which were softer than you had imagined. The way he earnestly moved his mouth against yours ignited sparks in your chest. You had wanted him so badly, and you finally had him there in your arms, on the tip of your tongue, for the taking. One of your hands moved to his hair and you reveled in the feeling of his locks between your fingers. 

But the abrupt sound of heels walking along a marble floor slowed your kiss to a halt. Madam Scribner. The two of you were so swept up in the moment you completely forgot other people existed (faculty that Sebastian does not have a good reputation with included).

The two of you left each other’s embrace just as Scribner came into view. Sebastian, hair slightly askew, gave a cough and acted like he was looking over some important papers which were actually your homework pages for a class he didn’t have. All the while, you had managed to open up the romance novel, nodding your head as if you were learning some new herbology methods.

Madam Scribner eyed the two of you while she put away a few books. “Getting late, best finish up before curfew.” And then she was gone, returning to her desk.

You and Sebastian looked at each other, cheeks flushed, and grinning from ear to ear. You bit at your lip and he rubbed the back of his neck. Clearing your throat, you started gathering up your homework and books.

Sebastian watched with an ache to pull you back in and keep kissing you senseless.

“I-I’m sorry I did that. That was selfish of me.” You stammered, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asked, returning to your side, thinking through anything he could have done to make you feel this way. You had helped him through so much, if anything he thought he was the selfish one. You came in as a new fifth year with seemingly endless catching up to do and you had to learn how to wield ancient magic on top of that. Yet, he was unabashed in asking for your help countless times, anything to steal you away for himself.

“Well I-I know how busy you are with your research for Anne and I’d hate to be the one who slowed you down just because I-.” You went quiet, unable to finish the sentence, fingers fumbling to organize the papers in your hands.

“Just because you... what?” He urged on.

“Merlin, Sebastian. Do I need to spell it out for you?” You exhaled, leaving to go put away the books you borrowed, him following close in pursuit.

“Please do.”

“As I said,” You sighed. “You make me... nervous.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

Putting the last of the books away, you turned to face him again. “Good, I suppose.” You confessed, barely above a whisper, unable to meet his gaze.

He tried to bite back the giddy smile forming on his lips. “I make you nervous in a good way.” He repeated back, almost sounding proud.

You nodded your head, looking down at your twiddling thumbs, listening out if he would say how he felt about you.

Sebastian glanced over to Madam Scribner, who made it not so subtle she was keeping an eye on the two of you. “We should start heading to our rooms now, I suppose. Curfew and all.”

Your heart dropped, he didn’t say a thing about reciprocating your feelings. Not even a simple “I feel the same.” He must have only been swept up in the moment, enjoying the attention. Perhaps teenage hormones could make kissing enticing no matter who you were with? Embarrassment filled your every limb and you wanted to run and hide. You gathered your things to go.

“Um, yes. You’re right. We should be going.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“No, that’s alright. At this point, I’m asleep on my feet and you must be exhausted too. I’ll just floo and go straight to bed.”

Your rejection took him aback. “Oh. Well, alright then. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Maybe. I’ve got some assignments outside of the castle, might not have time.”

“Well, let me come along to help.” He offered eagerly.

“Don’t worry yourself, just send me an owl if something comes up for Anne. Sleep well, Sebastian.” 

Before he could say anything more, you sped off to the library floo, and then you were gone. He was baffled at your sudden shift, everything was going so well. The two of you kissed and you had confirmed you felt the same as he did. He couldn’t believe he could make someone like you nervous. Hearing you say how you felt about him made him so happy he could burst. But then you were rushing to leave, rejecting his offer to help again. He didn’t think he said anything wrong, he barely said anything at all. Yet off you went, like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

He groaned in frustration as he made his way to his room. He had managed to kiss you and he still felt as distant as ever from you. He had never had the courage to outright tell you how he felt, so he would constantly toe the line with his touches. The brushing fingers, laying his head on your lap, sitting as close as he could to you in the dining hall, and now a kiss, all of which you seemed to welcome.

Sebastian laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, going back and forth in his head what your actions tonight meant. You had waited in the library for him all that time, you initiated the kiss, said you liked - no - loved his cologne, told him he made you nervous in a good way, and then you wanted nothing more to do with him. He replayed the whole night and he couldn’t pin down where he went wrong. 

He’d have to find you first thing in the morning, before you could leave.

[daenysthedreamer101]

TVD - Season 4 Ep 12

"A View to a Kill"

Do I even have to say it? Elena and Jeremy killing Kol was the stupidest, most nonsensical thing I've seen on this show so far and that's saying a lot. There is no way in hell that Kol, an Original, was killed by Jeremy, a 16-year-old human (I know he's a hunter but still), and Elena, a baby vampire who's been a vampire for a couple of months at most. Kol is over a 1000 years old!

How? Like....Ughhhh! He didn't even want to kill Jeremy, just cut his arms off (ok not saying that's good but he said "I'll heal you with my blood" so...). He easily could've killed Elena, but he didn't. When he stabbed her, he stabbed her in the stomach, not the heart.

Also, it just felt OOC for Elena to be so willing to kill someone. Like "Oh yeah let's just kill him and by killing Kol we'll kill thousands of other vampires" ...Wasn't Elena supposed to be this really compassionate person because I don't see her anywhere. 😒😒😒

.....NO! THIS SHOULD NOT BE POSSIBLE! There's no way Elena was able to hold Kol for that long. Also, very convenient for her that she saw that Kol had the white oak stake with him cause his jacket was open (smells like plot convenience to me hmm...). And ofc they put vervain in the water system the day Elena decided to kill Kol...🙄🙄🙄

DAMN IT, I LIKED HIM! I know they bring him and Finn back for TO but that's irrelevant rn. Ever since they introduced him back in s3 they just kept on nerfing tf out of him. He's an Original damn it, he is more powerful than all of them. It shouldn't be possible for Damon to snap his neck and it should definitely not be possible for a human teenager and a baby vampire to kill him!

What tf was the point of making the Originals so powerful when a baby vampire and a human were able to kill one? Like who wrote this nonsense? 💀💀💀

Klaus and the others better take some revenge! Like, there need to be some repercussions for this!!! We saw Bekah cry when Stefan told her but like, that's not enough? I need revenge!

Also, Bonnie is kind of annoying me? Ever since that stupid professor showed her expression or whatever it's called she's been on my nerves idk. Literally, everyone rn on this show is annoying me lol 😭

Why didn't Kol compel Elena to stay put when he stabbed her? Like, don't tell me she was on vervain? There's no way she drank the water or did she? Or he ofc just didn't think of it.

Klaus's reaction to seeing Kol's body on fire and the way Elena flinched when he yelled "He was supposed to suffer on MY TERMS! "...yeah someone pls give my man Joseph an Oscar cause that was acting! Klaus better keep his promise and burn their stupid house down!

Where is Elijah? PLS COME BACK WE NEED YOU SO BAD! 😭😭

RIP MY BABY I'LL MISS YOU! YOU WERE SO CUTE AND SASSY AND CHAOTIC I LOVED YOU! 😟😟💔 (also how do we feel about the bangs lol)

[bella-rose29]

Golden Boy

Nikolai Lantsov x f!reader

They meet at the University of Ketterdam and sparks fly, but he becomes Sturmhond and she stays behind.

Word count: 5.3k (there's a part two as well send help)

Warnings: swearing, angst, i cried when i wrote this and if it was on paper it would be covered in my tears

Tag list: @bubybubsters, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @notoakay, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @el-de-phi, @simbaaas-stuff

Please let me know here if you want to be added or removed from my general Nikolai tag list my lovelies <3

(not my image although i think that's probably obvious)

Y/n was early for her class, which confused her. Normally she was running late, turning up a minimum of five minutes after whatever the event was had started, no matter what, so to be early for once was making her worried. She checked her timetable again, looking at the room number on her paper and the room number on the door, then at the time and date on the paper and the time and date on the huge clock in front of her, all the details matching, and decided she didn't like being early. She also didn't like being late, to be clear; there wasn't much that was more embarrassing than walking in to a room full of people mid-lesson, and having everyone stare at you as you walked to the only available seat that was as far away from the door as humanly possible (which totally wasn't an experience the girl had had before).

Sitting down on one of the chairs outside the classroom, she sighed, hoping the professor would turn up soon. Footsteps started echoing through the corridor immediately after she had the thought, and she was starting to get worried at how lucky she was today.

Maybe I'll go place a bet on something later, she thought. Looking up, however, she saw not the professor but another student, clothes neat and not crumpled at all (the ones she had on were the only clean items she could find on the floor of her room that morning), blond hair perfectly styled (her hair looked like a bird had recently finished nesting in it), and bag slung effortlessly over one shoulder (hers was dumped on the floor, the strap unable to bear more than the weight of a single book most days).

She immediately didn't like him.

When he smiled at her, teeth blindingly white, her dislike grew at this obviously rich posh kid who had never had to ask for a thing in his life, and tried not to physically move away from him when he sat in the seat next to her.

"Are you in 'Languages of the World' too?" he asked.

"No, I just thought I'd sit outside the classroom and wait for the professor of a class I don't attend." His smile faltered slightly, and she felt a little bad. She knew it was harsh, but she had no time for rich kids, and he was obviously one of them. Having grown up on the streets of Ketterdam, working three jobs to pay for her family to stay in a single hotel room, she knew how to suss a person out within five seconds. It wasn't bias, she'd learned how to read body language and facial expressions when she was 9, and it was extremely handy for knowing who to approach and who to avoid in the streets.

"That was sarcasm," she said, even though her voice had been dripping with it just now and there was no way that he had missed it.

"Right..." he trailed off, and thankfully at that moment some other students turned up, giving her an excuse to not talk to him. The professor turned up just as the bell sounded, and Y/n leapt up, desperate to be as far away from Golden Boy as physically possible.

Once inside the classroom, the professor announced a seating plan, and Y/n internally groaned.

Please let me be sat next to someone who has some sort of a grasp on languages, she thought.

In her first week at University while on the hunt for friends, she'd discovered that of all the people in this class, barely anyone spoke something of all the languages taught. Learning other languages had been another skill she'd picked up as a child, since a lot of tourists came to Kerch (although having grown up here, she had no idea why, it was a complete shit hole in her opinion). It had allowed her to get a third job as a translator for some offices, and it paid so well that after only six months working there she was able to drop one of her other jobs.

Finding her name on the sheet of paper the professor had pinned to the board, she went and sat in her seat, taking her books out of her bag. Just as she placed her bag on the floor, she felt someone sit down on her left, and mentally prepared herself for the greeting.

Nothing prepared her for the fact that Golden Boy was her table partner, however, and she choked on her spit. He frowned, concern flashing across his features. "Are you alright? Saints, here, have some water." She took the bottle that he presented, taking a large swig before handing the bottle back to him. Embarrassing that he'd seen that happen, but she had noticed his use of the word 'Saints'. So he was Ravkan. She wasn't sure how she'd missed the slight accent before, but now she knew where he was from, it was obvious.

"I'm alright now, sorry."

"Let me know if you need any more, yeah?" Ghezen's Hand, he even spoke like he'd been raised on caviar and silver platters, despite speaking Kerch.

"I'll be fine, thank you."

Not long after, the register was called, and the professor went round the tables individually. When he got to their table, checking they were there, Y/n almost choked on air again.

"Y/n L/n?"

"Here, sir."

"Nikolai Lantsov?"

What? The professor had made some kind of mistake, surely. There was no way that-

"Here, sir."

What?!

Why the fuck was the second heir to the Ravkan throne in her 'Languages of the World' class? And why was he sat next to her? Although, actually he didn't have much choice in sitting next to her, because of the seating plan, but she chose to ignore that piece of information for the time being. The whole class was tittering, whispers rising as they recognised the name.

"Settle down, students, settle down. Let's get started, shall we?" The professor called, moving to stand behind his desk.

"What. The. Fuck?" she muttered under her breath, although apparently not quietly enough.

"I didn't think he'd do it like that, to be fair. I was hoping I could be a little more incognito, but yes, 'what the fuck' perfectly sums this up I'd say," he whispered, leaning in slightly so that he didn't have to speak so loudly. Y/n refused to turn to look at him, keeping her gaze fixed on the professor at the front of the room and starting to make notes on what he was saying.

The rest of the class passed without too much stress, and luckily Y/n barely had to speak to the prince. No wonder he'd sounded so posh, though. And he probably had been raised on caviar and silver platters. By the time the lesson was over, two hours after it had begun, Y/n couldn't wait to leave. She'd enjoyed learning, but having to sit next to literal royalty wasn't doing wonders for her self-esteem, and her ass hurt from having to sit still on the chair for so long. Packing up her things, she turned to leave, but apparently His Royal Highness Prince Nikolai Lantsov had other ideas.

"I know I haven't made the best impression on you - don't look at me like that, I know I haven't - but did you want to do the homework together? My Fjerdan isn't brilliant, but you seem to be amazing at it, so I was just wondering if you would help?" He looked nervous, hands fidgeting at his sides, pulling at the bottom of his coat. She sighed deeply.

"Fine. Just... try not to be posh or anything. I can't stand it."

"How do I do that?"

"I don't know, do I? If I think you're getting too posh, I'll glare at you and start to leave, alright? Then you know what not to do." She walked off, hoping he'd follow. Sure enough, he did, footsteps echoing as they had earlier. Looking down at his feet she realised that it was because he had fancy shoes on, the kind that she could buy for the price of her house, and scoffed out loud.

"What now? Have I done something posh?"

"No, sorry. It's just that even your shoes are posh."

"Wait," he said, stopping abruptly. She stopped too, half turning back to face him, and frowning when he stuck his hand out. "Hello, I'm Nikolai, but just Nik is fine," he said with a smile, and Y/n's frown turned to an expression of incredulity.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, we got off on the wrong foot, and you don't like me too much, so I figured I should introduce myself the way I should have done before class."

"For the record, this," she waved her hands in his general direction, "is too posh. But fine. I'm Y/n, and don't shorten it, because we're not friends." She took his hand, annoyed when she felt a butterfly take flight in her stomach at how their hands seemed to fit together.

"Yet."

"What?" She pulled her hand back. Enough physical contact for today.

"We're not friends yet. I'm very persistent when I want to be. And I would like to be friends with you."

Y/n snorted. "What for? I've insulted you to your face multiple times the entire time we've known each other, despite the fact that's completely inappropriate."

"That's exactly why I want to be friends with you, because you're not pretending to like me. I could already see everyone else in that class eyeing me up, seeing how they could try and get close to me in a stupid attempt to be able to say that they're friends with royalty. You just ignored me, and to be honest? It felt great."

"Um... you do realise how weird you sound, right?"

"Yeah, I... as soon as I said that I realised. But I mean it, Y/n," he replied, following after her as she started walking again. "It's nice to have to try and make a friend. Wait, that was posh, wasn't it?" At her slow nod he winced, and she felt a pang of sympathy. She supposed that having no idea who your real friends were was something they had in common, and decided she could try being a little nicer to him.

"Look, I'm sorry for being rude and stuff, I just really don't like rich people. I grew up on the streets while I worked 20 hours a day to keep my family in a shitty hotel room and fed and warm and all the rest of it, and when rich people heard about my situation they'd just say 'stop being poor, that'll solve your problems'." He was staring at her, unreadable expression on his face, and it was making her slightly uncomfortable. She'd never not been able to read someone before. "But... I know what it's like to be alone, and honestly Ketterdam is one of the last places you wanna be alone, so if having a real friend is gonna help, then I guess I can let you tag along to my study sessions. This does not mean that we are friends, to be clear. You've still gotta work for that. But I'm giving you extra opportunities, alright?" He nodded, so fast she was worried his head would go flying off, and the smile on his face was so wide and genuine she couldn't help but let a small smile onto her own face.

"You have every right to not like me, especially with a life like that. I'm sorry that that happened, too. But I promise I'll try and convince you to be my friend, and then be the absolute best friend you could ever have asked for."

She rolled her eyes at his words, pushing open the door to the University library. "You are very full of yourself, you know that?"

"I have been told that, yes. Most often by Dominik, actually. But then he's always calling me names, so I feel the need to defend myself by making myself feel important and unstoppable."

Snorting at him she asked "Who's Dominik?", and finding a table in the back of the library and sitting down, she pulled out the homework.

"My best friend, lives in Ravka. He's in the army now, down in the front lines. We grew up together."

"Is he posh like you?"

"Nope. His family lives on a farm. They're better off than they were when we were growing up; I've managed to siphon funds from a noble I don't like to his family so that they don't have to worry too much. The harvest can be rough where they are, so I didn't want them to starve. They always managed to put food on the table when I came over, so this is my way of saying thank you, I guess."

Y/n couldn't help but stare in shock at the prince (who was blissfully unaware as he unpacked his own bag). "Wait. Your best friend is a commoner?"

"Yeah. You'd probably get on, actually. Bond over teasing the shit out of me or something."

"And you're helping his family?"

He paused in his movements, looking at her properly. Seeing the confusion on her face, his own expression softened. "You think it's impossible for a rich person to help someone."

It wasn't a question, but she still nodded. Having grown up expecting the least from everybody, she was used to people with money doing nothing, leaving the poor on the streets. Never, in her life, had she met a rich person that had actively done something useful to help someone else, so to hear Nikolai Lantsov, prince of the Ravkan throne, talk about how he was helping a poor family made her want to hug him.

"You know, usually when people say 'impossible' they actually mean 'improbable'," he said, and she smiled a little.

"That's stupid."

He shrugged. "It's true though. Think about it. You thought it was impossible for a rich person to help someone, but I've just proved to you that it's only improbable, because out of all the ones you've come across, I'm the only rich person you've met that has."

She couldn't deny his logic. "Still stupid. Come on, I heard your Fjerdan earlier, this is gonna take all week."

They spent hours in the library, occasionally getting up and walking around the table to stretch their legs or collect a book, and by the time they were kicked out by the librarian due to closing, Y/n had found herself having fun. He was funny, and actually quite nice, and yes, his Fjerdan was horrific, but he was a fast learner, and by the time they left for the night he had improved significantly.

"How long until I'm fluent, then?"

"Not sure. How long are you here for?"

"Three years, apparently. I might die of boredom before then, there doesn't appear to be much else to do, and my parents want me to do a politics course next year."

"You might die of boredom? What are you, a puppy in need of constant entertainment?"

"Ironically my nickname in court is 'Sobachka', so sort of." Y/n reached her door, pausing outside.

"This is me. This is also not an invitation to be outside my door every opportunity you get, alright?" He nodded. "Good. Night, Nik." She opened her door, stepping inside and closing it again before he had a chance to reply.

~~~

He took every opportunity to be outside her door.

It was infuriating at first, how persistent he was, but after a week of him trailing her heels she figured she should just get used to it.

They spent most evenings in either her or his room (his was significantly more neat and tidy than hers), studying, doing homework, or trying to get Nikolai better at speaking Fjerdan (it really was atrocious, which she couldn't understand since he'd pretty much mastered all the other languages). The rest of the time was spent in lessons, or for Y/n working shifts whenever she had some spare time. Nikolai had offered to help out financially, but Y/n, despite her constant pleadings that rich people would give away more of their money to the people that needed it, refused to take his. It felt too much like she was using him, and given how excited he'd been to have a real friend, she just felt bad thinking about it.

One night they were in her room, Nikolai sprawled on her bed and Y/n picking various things up off the floor and other surfaces in an attempt to tidy. He had an arm flung over his forehead, and a leg dangled off the side of the bed, making him look like one of those ladies in a painting that had fainted onto a fancy sofa.

"You could help me, you know."

"You wouldn't let me. As soon as I touched something you'd tell me not to break it, or that I'm putting it in the wrong place." She groaned at his words, knowing frustratingly that he was right. It was annoying how quickly he'd worked out how to understand her, but then he was a fast learner. That thought made her pause.

"If you're such a fast learner, how come you're shit at speaking Fjerdan?"

"What do you mean?" He removed his arm from his head, opening an eye to squint up at her. "I'm not that bad."

"Uh, yeah you are. I had to teach you the word for 'goodbye' yesterday because you'd forgotten it. Seriously, who is that bad at Fjerdan? I know it's not an easy language to learn, but you've mastered the others." He blushed a light pink, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"I uh, I haven't been entirely honest with you, and when I tell you I need you to not hate me" he started, looking like he was bracing himself for a physical attack.

"What." Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm actually fluent in Fjerdan, I just pretended I couldn't understand it so that we had a legitimate reason to spend time together," he replied, in perfect, unaccented Fjerdan. She froze where she stood, eyes wide, then chucked the decorative pillow she was holding at his head. "Ow!" he cried as it made contact, falling backwards against the covers.

"Well you deserve it, you bastard! You've been lying to me for a week because you were desperate for a friend?! I would have been your friend anyway, you dipshit!"

"You... you would?"

"Yes!" she shouted, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. Her breath came rapidly, chest heaving from shouting.

"Oh..." he paused, looking bashful. "I just... normally I'm good at making friends, I just figured you wouldn't want to spend time with a rich kid unless you had a reason to. And I really wanted to be friends with you, Y/n."

"Well how did you become friends with Dominik? Pretend you were shit at Zemeni?"

"It was a lot more complicated than that, and no I did not. You know that my Zemeni is flawless," he held a hand to his chest in mock hurt, a pout forming on his face.

"Oh, forgive me for not remembering that when you lied to my face about your Fjerdan!"

"You aren't too mad at me, are you?" he questioned, pushing himself up into a sitting position, worry filling his expression.

"No, I'm not. I just... am frustrated that you didn't tell me sooner."

"I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you!"

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"No, I will," he said, leaping up from the bed to stand in front of her and hold her arms. "I will. Are you free tomorrow evening? Actually, don't answer that, I know you are. I'll pick you up at six bells, alright?"

"Pick me up? Nik, what do you mean?"

"I'll feed you, all you have to do is look pretty and bring your appetite, which shouldn't be too difficult for you given how gorgeous you are anyway, because I'm paying and that's that."

Y/n felt her face warm at his words, and the pesky butterflies that had slowly been waking up the last week fluttered in her stomach.

"I don't have anything nice to wear though, so you'll just have to deal with what I've got and not take me anywhere fancy. Seriously, a street vendor would be fine. And don't spend too much, becau-"

"Saints, please stop talking! I will take you where I want to take you and if you don't have anything to wear then tell me, because I refuse to be seen in public with somebody who's naked, alright?" She hit him (gently), and he jumped back, laughing. "I mean it! Imagine how ruinous that could be for my reputation!" She hit him again, smiling along with him as he picked up a pillow to defend himself. Y/n lifted a pillow of her own, and before long they were having an all-out pillow fight on the floor of her bedroom.

~~~

Y/n was panicking.

It wouldn't be long until six bells, and where she was always late, Nikolai was extremely punctual, and she knew for a fact that he would be knocking on her door as soon as the first bell sounded, and here she was, stood in the middle of her room, surrounded by clothes yet not wearing any of them. She was yet to pick an outfit, and although she'd said to Nikolai yesterday that he'd have to deal with whatever she picked out, and she'd never been one for caring what other people thought of her clothes, but for some reason, nothing seemed good enough.

"Ugh, this is ridiculous!"

It was ridiculous, how much time she had spent on finding the perfect outfit. But for some reason she wanted to look nice for their date- wait, what? Since when had she been thinking of this as a date?!

A knock sounded at her door, three sharp raps, and she knew immediately that it was Nikolai.

"Shit!" she whispered, the word leaving her mouth like a hiss. "Uh, one minute!" She heard muffled laughter (the bastard), and hopped around the room, picking up random items and pulling them on as quickly as she could. Running over to the door, she yanked it open, revealing her Golden Boy, hands in his pockets, looking effortlessly handsome in his simple white shirt and black slacks.

"Are you sure you want to wear that? I know I said I wouldn't judge you, but this outfit is really quite something." He was trying to hide his smirk incredibly unsuccessfully, and she slapped him on the arm, sending him a glare.

"Look, I'm struggling, okay? You haven't told me anything about where we're going, and I have no idea what I should wear!"

"Just... okay." He walked around the small room, rummaging through the various piles of clothes, discarding most and throwing them to the side. "Aha! Here, put these on." He shoved the articles he'd gathered into her hands, then pushed her behind the screen she'd put up in the corner of the room. Changing quickly, and definitely not almost falling over multiple times, she emerged five minutes later, dressed in the blouse and long skirt he'd picked out for her.

"Alright, fine. Can we go now?"

"Hmm?" He turned around, then froze, staring at her.

"What? You were the one that chose this outfit, if there's a problem it's your fault!"

"No! No, it's not that, you just... you look... good," he finished quietly, blushing.

"Oh," she replied, her own blush heating up her cheeks. "Well, um... let me just put my shoes on, and then we can go." He nodded, and watched as she laced up her boots. Opening the door for her when she was done, Nikolai offered his other arm up to Y/n, and she took it gladly (partly to be closer to him and partly to stop herself falling over from how nervous she was). "Actually, where are we going?"

"A tiny restaurant I found on my first day here; the food is incredible."

The walk was short, and it startled Y/n to realise that Nikolai's guards had come with them, trailing behind at a distance. When she'd asked him about it, he just said that they'd always been there, just out of sight. She wondered how many of their conversations they'd overheard, or if they'd picked up on how much she liked her Golden Boy now. She didn't have much time to ponder, however, as Nikolai pulled her around a corner into a hidden courtyard that, in her entire life living in Ketterdam, she had never noticed before.

"What? Don't you like it? We can go somewhere else, if you want? I just thought tha-"

"You're rambling, Nik. And I do like it, I'm just annoyed that you found this place before I did and you didn't even grow up here!"

"Oh! Well that's alright then. Come on!" He seemed to ignore everything she'd said past 'like it', dragging her along by the arm to a table out the front of the restaurant. They were greeted a few moments later, presented with menus and the specials, then left to decide what they wanted. Y/n made her mind up quickly (a habit she'd picked up from not liking being rushed), then took the time to look around.

The courtyard was small, boxed in by tiny apartments on all sides, some with little balconies overlooking the square. The walls were lined with plants, flowers blooming despite it being late in the year, and small lights littered the spaces in between the leaves. It was gorgeous, and she wondered how often Nikolai had come here. Speaking of Nikolai, she turned back to study him. He seemed to be taking extra time to decide what he wanted, brow furrowed as he browsed the menu, biting a nail as he did so. A strand of his hair had come away from his perfectly styled locks (seriously, who had time for that?), and before she knew what she was doing, Y/n was reaching over and smoothing it back.

Nikolai had looked up as she moved, and was now sat staring at her, eyes wide, as her hand brushed his forehead.

"What," he cleared his throat, "What are you doing?" His voice was shaky, and filled with nerves, and Y/n thought he was adorable like this.

"You had a hair out of place, and it was annoying me," she shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "Have you chosen yet?" He nodded, still looking at her, a dazed expression on his face.

"Yeah, I have," he replied, voice quiet, and Y/n got the distinct feeling that he wasn't talking about the food.

~~~

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, filled with laughter and talking, and never a dull moment. There were silences, yes, but they were comfortable, and the longer the night went on, the more Y/n found herself thinking of it as a date.

He might not be thinking it's a date, though. I don't want to get my hopes up.

When they came to leave, Nikolai paid just like he said he would (much to Y/n's annoyance, because she could have paid for her own meal), and they left the courtyard arm in arm.

They were almost back to the University when Nikolai spoke.

"I had a nice time tonight, Y/n." She'd been looking up at the stars, barely visible through the clouds and making her neck sore, but now she turned her head to face him.

"Me too." They were quiet again for a bit, but then Nikolai started huffing, apparently wanting to say something but not finding the words or the courage. "Spit it out, Lantsov."

"Was this a date?"

His words shocked her, and her mind went blank for a moment. At her lack of answer he grew worried, concern that he'd messed things up crossing his features, and she quickly went to rectify it.

"I'd like it to be. You know, if you would. Obviously if you don't then no, but if you do then that's-"

"I'd like it to be a date, Y/n/n."

"Oh. Good. Okay then." Y/n was quiet for a minute. "Good." She winced at herself, cringing at how awkward she was making it, but luckily they pulled to a stop outside her door, giving her an escape. He was smiling at her, a soft smile reserved for her, not one of the blinding ones he used to win people over, and her heart fluttered.

"Night then. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Nik." She went to open her door, pausing for a moment as she made a decision. Reaching up, she planted her lips on his cheek, then hurried inside and slammed the door, leaving him standing in the hallway.

~~~

Three weeks later, Y/n was sat at a table in one of the coffee shops littered around the campus, usually filled with students dead on their feet needing the caffeine to get through a class without falling asleep. She had her notes out in front of her, working her way through an essay she had to write, when a book slammed on the table, making her jump. She looked up, immediately finding the perpetrator.

"What the fuck, Nik? Why would you- oh shit. No. Not that face. That's your 'I have an idea that you won't approve of' face, and we both know what happened last time."

He'd fallen off a wall trying to climb it, saying he could sneak into the principal's office from there. He'd ended up concussed.

"That is not a face I have, and anyway, you've only known me for like, a month, Y/n/n, how do you know what my faces are already?"

"I'm good at reading people," she shrugged. "Go on, spit it out."

"Hear me out," he said, excitement creeping into his voice. He lifted the book in front of him.

"Privateering for dummies? Nik, seriously, what are you gonna do?" He frowned, turning the book to read the title.

"Shit, I picked up the wrong one. I know the basics already, just wanted to learn some history really. Must have left in such a hurry I didn't get the right book."

"What do you mean, you know the basics? You're going round attacking enemy ships in your spare time? Wait, is that why you bailed on me the other day?"

"I didn't bail on you, I forgot, and was busy with something else, so can we please move on from that. And no, I'm not a privateer yet, I just..." he sighed, finally sitting down. "I can't stay here, Y/n/n. I'm bored as fuck and while you are amazing, and learning languages with you is great, I need to be doing more. You know what I'm like, always fidgeting. I think this will be good for me."

"One, you need to actually tell me what you were doing to bail on me, and then we can move on. Two, I know I'm amazing, but thank you for the extra validation. Three, why privateering? Why not become a mechanic or something? And four - don't look at me like that! You can't come in here, dump that information on me and then expect me to just smile and go along with it! Four, what about your obligations? Won't people notice that the second prince of Ravka has disappeared, and then not long later a privateer that looks remarkably like Nikolai Lantsov turns up?"

"All valid points. If you must know, I completely forgot we had plans, and I feel really bad about it, but at the same time I was reading this incredible book that I couldn't put down, and then there was a really hot sex scene, and I-""

"Okay! I don't need the details, thank you!"

"Fine, fine," he said, dodging the straw she threw at him. "Privateering because when I was travelling over here, and this is going to sound really cheesy, but I just felt... at home. I felt more like me than I had for a long time, and when you've spent your life cooped up in a palace, although not cooped up, 'cause it's a big space, but you know what I mean," he paused, frowning as he tried to remember his train of thought. "It felt so free out there, nothing but water as far as the eye can see, and I don't know, maybe I could do more for Ravka out there than I ever could as the spare. As for your fourth point, I'll get tailored, change what I look like, keep a low profile for a little while so the timings don't quite match up."

Y/n was silent for a while, contemplating everything he'd said. "When would you leave?"

"We would leave next week, I've already made arrangements for a couple of things, but pretty much everything else will have to be done on the night, because I can't get everything past my guards. What? What's that face for?"

"'We'?" she asked quietly. "What do you mean 'we'?"

"Aren't... you're not coming with me?" He looked confused, and gods bless him he wore his heart on his sleeve, because his expression was so genuine and so lost that she immediately felt bad for what she was about to say.

"No, Nik," she started gently. "I can't go with you, not when I've worked my ass off my whole life to get here. I need this degree to get a proper job, so that I can support my family, and being with you won't help that." She saw hurt flash across his face, which quickly morphed into a neutral expression, attempted boredom covering up any real feelings.

"Being with me?"

"You know, going and being a privateer with you. Obviously I don't mean literally being with you, or we wouldn't be together, but abandoning all of this? I'm sorry, Nik, but I can't do it, not even for you." He nodded, still no sign of any emotion on his face, and even when she tried hard to read him, Y/n got nothing. She felt horrible, knowing that she was the one that had made her sweet Golden Boy look numb inside, but she couldn't take back her words. She'd worked too hard for this life, and no matter what she felt for the man sitting opposite her, she couldn't just give it up. He stood, taking Privateering for Dummies with him, and left the coffee shop without looking back.

~~~

The next few days were excruciating, having to spend all of her classes with him trying to make conversation while he tried to ignore her, or when he had no choice but to speak to her, answering in short sentences. The professor had noticed, and one lesson asked if Y/n wanted to move, but she'd said no, not wanting to give up just yet. She'd be damned if Nikolai left while they were still on bad terms.

After one particularly painful lesson where he'd spent the entire time pretending he couldn't hear her because his ears were blocked from the bath he took that morning (a blatant lie, she was sure), Y/n approached his dorm door, knocking firmly. It swung open not long after, revealing Nikolai, hair mussed and bags under his eyes. Upon realising who was stood at his door, he went to close it, but Y/n snuck in under his arm, moving to stand in the middle of the room. It was a mess, clothes everywhere, bed unmade, books and papers scattered on every surface. Normally he was the picture of tidiness, and seeing his room so chaotic made her heart hurt. "Nik," she began.

"Just go, please." His voice was tired, assumedly from his lack of sleep, and she started walking towards the door. He opened it back up for her, but Y/n threw her arms around him instead, bringing him into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Nik. I'm so so sorry. Why didn't you tell me you were like this?"

"I didn't want you to worry, darling." He was sniffling against her neck as he wrapped his own arms around her. The pet name made her heart skip a beat, and she didn't understand why he wouldn't tell his girlfriend that he'd been in such a state.

"I'll always worry about you, Nik, you're my best friend," she replied. "And also my partner, which makes the worry doubled."

"Please, just go. I'm leaving tonight anyway, and I'd rather I didn't get caught and drag you down with me." He pulled away from her, wiping his eyes and going to pack more things away. Now that she understood that tonight was the night, she realised that his room was a mess because he was leaving.

"I don't want you to go on bad terms, Nik. What if something happens to you before we see each other again and we don't get a chance to work things out?" Desperation had crept into her voice now, but Y/n didn't care. Not when tomorrow she would be alone again. "Please, just talk to me, we'll figure this out."

He shook his head, shoving more things into the bag on his bed. He pulled on a thick jumper, ears popping out as it came over his head and hair somehow more tousled than it had been before. "There isn't anything to figure out. I want to go, and you want to stay. I was just doing damage control so that when I left it hurt less."

"This is hurting more, Nik, can't you see that? I've spent the last however many days thinking that you hate me because you won't even talk to me, let alone look at me! You might think that what you did was better, but it's not, not in the slightest. Because now I'm scared that you'll just keep pushing me away, instead of helping fix this, and I don't want you to push me away!" He flinched as her voice rose, but she couldn't bring herself to care, not when she now had tears streaming down her cheeks and a lump in her throat at the idea that maybe he was just like all the other rich people, and she was just a charity case to him. She'd been stupid to trust him, to think that he was different, and when he didn't say anything, she huffed, suspicions confirmed. "Fine. Fine. But don't come running back to me the next time you're in Ketterdam because you want someone to be your friend, because I won't be there." She pulled her necklace out, chucking it on the bed. "Keep it, so that you can remember how badly you fucked this up every day you're out on the True Sea."

She was being bitter again, just like when they'd first met, but now she had good reason. She wanted him to have a reminder of her, and her necklace would be perfect. Nikolai was still silent, stood by his bed and staring blankly at the object she'd thrown his way, and when she closed the door behind her, the silver of it was glinting cruelly in the light of his lamp.

Part 2

[pascalsbby]

Just You / Joel Miller

I just wrote fluff (kinda). YEAH! ME! It’s really just for my own comfort but thought I’d share it anyways.

Warnings: Joel helps traumatized (mommy & daddy issues, best of both worlds bitches) neurodivergent reader not feel so bad about doing the small things that help her, like smoking a joint here n’ there. Ya know?

You filled up your water bottle and huffed at the ice tray, hating the way it’s burning your touch from lingering fingers. You can’t not have cold water for when your throat dries. Can’t have outside time without it. You had filled the tray up too far, again. Well this was again, again. You’d only used it a few times since Joel stumbled into the kitchen with it last week. “So your water’a be cold when you’re swingin’.” He presented it to you with his crooked grin.

Now, he was looking at you from the back of the couch. “Bring it ‘er baby. It’s been overfilled a little too much. But thats s’okay- now we both know.” It wasn’t a reprimand pointing to you, with a “you weren’t smart enough to know that? ice expands…?” tone. It was a suggestion, just something he happened to notice… something he wanted to help you with.

You were grateful that despite the really shitty past couple of months, he still didn’t shy away from recentering you- guiding you, more so. The facade of your trauma being ‘not that bad these things happen to everyone,” never really faded behind the memories, but in college it fell drastically. Not being to sit through a class in the lecture hall because (Mr.) Professor’s voice was echoing the walls of the lecture hall (your mind) too loudly. Getting out of the four walls of your bedroom forced a lot of realizations towards you. But it wasn’t until your mid-20’s that it just completely collapsed- watching other people’s father’s grow the fuck up (age) and apologize to them, their mothers, their little brothers- maybe sometimes you. But not you- you. Narcissism feels too good in his proud chest.

Mom went to therapy, so she thinks she’s done her part. She did, for herself. Sure. But they were never meant to save you, you knew that.

It wasn’t until you got to know Joel that you saw there were parents who tried to understand, and a safe (even if just inside their own four-walled house) environment really did make the difference. Sarah, for example. He was considerably older, stern, and gentle. He looked like he could take care of you- not just by the thickness of his arms and veined neck, but the width of his grasp upon you- around you, inside of you. You dirty thing, you, shhh.

You hadn’t been able to smoke in a couple weeks and it felt like it was catching up to you. Yeah, yeah, it sounds bad even while I stumble through this validation. But it helped and you were sick and fucking tired of pretending it wasn’t. Finally something was helping. You’d put it off in guilt for years until finally trying it and realizing that your thoughts quitely deduced themselves to leaving your own mind and joining the waves on the back of the singing cicadas. Or the sound of the night sky above your neighbors air-conditioner box. It was 106 degrees today. Don’t think about it too deeply. You begged of yourself, then thought how long you begged for someone to listen to you and magically solve the problem. A diagnosis feels good until it starts being ignored, again. And then the thought passed and that was all. Deep breathes, cool air rising from the ground.

You spent twenty-plus years stuck inside the shell of yourself, pulling on whatever mask needed to be worn. A lot of the time the plastic behind them stuck to each other and creaked like sharp rocks screeching against glass. You wore so many masks all the time. The shoulders of the character were always the same though; staunched upwards and perpetually flexed.

The breeze of wind feels like Texas summers against the back of your neck. The warmth of the breeze furthering the condensation below your eyes and above your cheeks. You’re not in Texas anymore- although sometimes it feels like it with him. These memories were happy. They feel like resurfacing-s of something, someone. You. Little you.

This was your diary, the swing on the back porch of y’alls house, halfway on the concrete and hallway into the world. Big Dipper to the right, always. Joel usually to the left, neck bent backwards laying against the swing as his long legs gently pushed off the warm and resting ground. He had one hand over his stomach, resting, the other pointing in front of both of your eyes towards whichever constellations he’s telling you stories about tonight. Poetry, him.

He noticed your hesitation, holding the water bottle to your chest and quickly drinking it instead of taking the joint out of it’s tube. The fact that something so calming to your psyche should make you feel so guilty? “You know you’re not in trouble, sweet thing. I can go inside if ya’wanna be alone.” He started getting up and you chuckled at him, lovingly.

“I know.”

Unspoken but perfectly clear. He settled back, put one of his fingers around the top of the container and popped it open, taking out the Barbie pink lighter you had hid in there a couple weeks ago, too. He handed it to you, watched your lips as you rested it between them and then the lighter flickered against his warm skin. You breathed in the fire and slowly exhaled all of the bullshit stuck inside of you back out into the world, off to dissipate before your eyes.

“You’re okay here, baby. I got ya, rest some,” he paused, his eyes meeting yours, making sure you’re paying attention to his words of care, “okay?” He nods.

“Okay.” You nod back. Not even followed by an ‘I’m sorry’ on your part. You didn’t have to be sorry around Joel. You just had to be you, and it turns out that she’s still in there somewhere, and she feels like she’s clawing her way out of you. Will be she 9 or 17? Probably anything but 25.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡

This is utterly and completely written for myself. I’m trying to write and get things out so they aren’t sitting in my chest, ya know? (I am so okay! Just growing ((that frontal lobe y’all, they weren’t kidding))). I’m really happy I feel like writing about it, it’s easier to conceptualize my feelings and recognize them as important and real when I write them like this.

It’s Apple Friter btw (flower strain). Hehe.

I did live in Texas for a long time. Sometimes I wonder if my Joel talking in a Texas accent sounds too much like Joel talking in an actual Texas accent/way and it looks obnoxious. Lol. But I’m thinkin’ of how all those old men talk, every time I write his voice HAHA.

Love you. And you. And I hope you sleep so well.

[hipsterteller]

Pen pal

Synposis-Prof. Naoakira decided to have the class do pen pal activity...Aeryn seems to be on tight rope...as she somehow wrote her professor as "Mr.Darcy", how will he react?

tags-age difference, professor x student, slow burn, my oc is like Pomni but different., fluff

“The distance is nothing when one has a motive."

In Linguistic class, professor Naoakira Saimon decided for the class to do a activity, which is pen pal. He gave each of his students a letter and envelope.

Everyone seems to be okay for this, but Aeryn...she seems to be in mied. Due lately, ever since she enter college she met Naoakira Saimon, her homeroom and linguistic professor.

Her emotions began to make her feel funny...and yet familiar...her face would turn red and her heart won't stop as if a locomotive train won't stop until it arrives it's destination.

Right now, she wrote her professor as "Mr. Darcy" as she feels safe doing so...and so far that's the only thing she wrote...she think for a while and decided to write more.

"The reason why I wrote it, is because when you walked around in class. Checking on one of us whenever you do your lecture or whenever we have a pop quiz, you check on us...especially me.."

"Don't get this as a negative way, it's just...whenever you do those things...my heart is beating as if you caught me doing something...not in a bad or naughty way, but rather...as if I am crying all alone..."

Aeryn look back at professor Naoakira who is reading his book as she continue her letter.

"And now, I am in fear...that once I send this letter...I don't know how will you react..."

After writing it down, Aeryn put her pen down and slowly folded the letter and place it on envelope. After class, Aeryn place it on his table as each students had given out each of their letters.

Upon heading back to her place, she felt a bit of panic rises before her. She hug her macaron pillow as she hope he doesn't see it in a bad way...

MEANWHILE AT BAR 4/7

Naoakira had to bring his work after bar close, upon reading the letter he is amuse by each of his students.

But then he saw one that came from Aeryn.

To- Mr. Darcy.

Naoakira read the letter and is intrigued by her observation and even her shyness. As he mark her work with a check...he can't help but to read her letter and the quote.

"Are you going to write her back?"

Naoakira turn to his friend, Yohei as Naoakira chuckle.

"Maybe...but she's my student..."

"Well then write a nickname or whatever you call another thing."

Naoakira smile as he grabs his things and head home, upon there he took a shower and wore his pajama, there he wrote a letter.

Next day...

At class, everyone got a check mark as well note from Naoakira. Everyone is happy but for Aeryn...she was yet again in a mixed.

She had receive letter...

For Elizabeth

As everyone is busy admiring their markings, Aeryn opens the letter and reads it.

"I am well enough acquainted with you, Miss Elizabeth, to know that I can not alarm you, even should I wish it."

"It seems that I somehow caught your attention well, but should I say...you caught me...the moment you enter here, you sat at front row far from others...always or either having your cardigan hoodie on."

"Your auburn hair shines like sun, your eyes shimmers like blue moon, and your freckles...were like stars had landed into you..."

"You...are something..."

Aeryn heart began to beat faster, she looked at Naoakira who is talking to Allen, Anne, and Hajun as she looked back at the letter.

Tagged-@moonartemisia

[grandhotelabyss]

I guess they're about to learn this the hard way on Wikifeet, but the only thing worse than reading philosophy is reading contemporary popular political nonfiction. The past's popular political nonfiction, if it's ripened into a classic, is fine to read—often better than philosophy, in fact, hence my elevation of Emerson and Chesterton over the philosophers. But trying to sift through present-day material for the gems is too much of an opportunity cost. I had the patience for it when I was a kid but not now. I read so many of the Bush-era political books, for example, and what do I have to show for it? When's the last time you heard anybody deploy an insight gleaned from the once painfully au courant Verso volume, Afflicted Powers? Ironically, given how things turned out for all involved, the best of the W. books were probably Mark Crispin Miller's Frankfurt-School-inflected Bush Dyslexicon and Cruel and Unusual.

Anyway, I haven't done an ad on Tumblr in a while, and in another Xeet Anna K advocates "grandiose narcissism," so please let me renew my recommendation to Tumblr's apparently substantial Red Scare contingent of Portraits and Ashes, a novel I wrote in 2013, which foretold the whole Red Scare sensibility. In my later material, though, I have moved on thematically. (A paid subscription to my Substack gets you access to a post containing pdfs of my three prior novels, including Portraits and Ashes, as well as to my serialized novel-in-progress, the occult-themed American epic, Major Arcana.) I wrote my last Red-Scare-ish story, "Sweet Angry God," in 2015, three years before the pod debuted. You can read that story for free here. The opening paragraphs:

Apparently it began with a hate fuck. There was a dirtball café, no doubt collectively owned, a few blocks from the art school. He worked there, and she had been watching him for some months, maybe even her entire sophomore year. The first time she went into the place she noticed him, how hateful and stupid he was. Some kind of percussion-heavy music rumbled over the speakers, hissing with analogue static. She thought she felt the tuba thrum in her throat. Above the music she heard him talk to his co-worker as his face glistened in the espresso machine steam. He didn’t look at her, not even when his dirty fingernails grazed her palm with the change. “No, Romanian. It was a group, yeah, I mean they allied with Hitler. Not saying I’m defending them, but, I mean. They were pissed off that their culture was being violated by the modern west. Yeah, they hacked people’s heads off. Limbs. Like werewolves, man. Okay, it’s fucked up. But today you just push a button. Is that better? This is their marching music.” She kept her eye on him after that. Maybe he was dangerous. She would look over her laptop screen when he came out from behind the counter to wipe down the tables. He stomped around in careless bursts, like a toddler. He had a pervert’s goatee and wore bowling shirts stained at the armpits. When she saw his sneakers, so old they’d become fashionable again, she understood what “down-at-heel” literally meant. His body looked sinewy, a bad cut of meat. Stupid-ass white boy. Sometimes she checked certain books out of the library to read in front of him, anything by or about men ready for violence. Marinetti, Mao, Fanon, whatever. His eyes were always elsewhere. Men ready for violence unmade and remade the world. She just lived in it. She wondered if he didn’t want to just live in it. Her sophomore-year final project she called Men Ready for Violence. Blood-spatter paintings were arrayed around a screen showing various armies on the march. Their choreography contrasted with the chaos of the red paint. She loaded the artist’s statement with jargon, quotations from Klaus Theweleit and Judith Butler, so that her teachers didn’t call a shrink or a cop. Everyone was polite about it, one professor even enthusiastic. Her classmates looked at her strangely. Especially the girls. Then the semester was over. One week left before she had to come home to mamá. She sat in the café reading Ernst Jünger. He wiped down her table while she was still sitting at it, his face vacantly smiling, the dirt-nailed knob-boned fingers sinking in the washcloth’s soft folds. One week. What would a Romanian fascist do? She reached out and grabbed his wrist hard. Her face must have looked like it couldn’t believe what her hand had done. Her nails were red-stained with oil paint. He was looking at her nails and then turned to look into her eyes. He showed smoker’s teeth.

How did I know in 2015 that this type of young woman, then still immersed in pop Jezebel-style feminism, would soon be getting into aesthetic fascism? Because I'm not a philosopher. I can't afford to let logical argument block the truth.

[baby-prophet]

Hello! haven't sent a message in a while, but hope you have been enjoying a nice weekend \^o^/ oh and i saw u mentioned donuts a bit ago and was curious what ur fav kind is (personally i can't resist a good bavarian cream). Also unrelated but have you ever seen the show mushishi? I'd recommend it if you haven't. okay that's all have a good night! ╰(￣ω￣ｏ)

omg hii!! my weekend was ok had a good saturday and a not so great but over all ok sunday 👍 cramps kicked my ass and i stayed in bed all day yesterday but thats ok. i dont feel much better now but i am going to bed early tonight just to get some rest lol

today both my professors complimented my writing tho!!! my art history professor mentioned in class that I had written a really good paper and my writing history professor said he likes how i insert myself into my writing and how i'm not afraid of being candid when writing.. he was like i love when writers are vunerable, you really feel like youre getting to know them ( this was after he had us read out the essays about a city's birth and the indigenous people who lived there before... and I wrote half about that and half about living in richmond and how I teetered on the verge of becoming an alcoholic and how I chainsmoked out my apartment window and was extremely lonely to the point of hanging out at the robert e lee memorial alone in the dew covered grass at 3 am just to see the stars and how it grounded me when I was feeling especially fragile and untethered and how I would adorn my eyelashes in glitter to create my own personal constellations when i didnt feel like walking 30ish minutes to get the the racist statue LOL)

wow i got sidetracked real bad lmao.... as for donuts, lately I've been a plain old glazed girly. theyre basic but idk whatever. I used to hate them because of sensation of extremely sticky fingers make me feel like im get electrocuted but a bunch of tiny nails just underneath my skin... but now i like ok with it bc i love them so much. at the farmers market theres these weird big and skinny ones that are so fucking good. I'm really craving one right now. ....... i love bavarian cream too but I havent had a decent one in a depressingly long time.

ive never seen mushishi but ive added it to my list! ty!!

[souyasbabyy]

• pairing: draken x son!reader, taiju x son!reader, kakucho x son!reader, izana x son!reader

request by @sxgarcude-anon: Hello, love your work! May I request Dad! Taiju, Kakucho, Izana, Draken where they find out their timid/reserved son has been getting treated harshly at school and bullied (EX. Physically, Socially, Verbally). They don't even find out, instead they find out either through their son's friend, the son comes home very injured, or worse the bullying goes to far and they get called from the school saying their son is in the hospital (or just whatever you wanna go with). The crazier part is that the son could actually go off on the bullies if he really wanted, he's a strong kid for his age (with their dads they could be menaces if they really wanted to). But reader is either too nice, it's easier for them to just do nothing (in their words), or/and maybe they just deserve it (or etc whatever reasons you wish). You could add a little extra such as a teacher knowing but saying nothing or etc XD. You don't have to do this is you don't want to.

• genre: fluff, angst

• warning: bullying, violence toward reader

• note: hiiii i'm back lol, i'm sorry i haven't wrote since what felt like an eternity. i've been struggling a lot with many things this days and my mental health is just,,, real bad lmao but yeah i'm back, thank you for your request and sorry it took so much time to come, i really do hope that you'll like it and for anyone that is getting bullied, pls talk to someone close to you or not, you can even call hotlines but pls talk to someone and i've said it before but i'll say it again, if you ever need to vent you can come in my dms, i'll always answer <33 , i know how hard it is but everything gets better with time <3 take care of yourselves, love u all <33

— draken

draken always teached his son that violence wasn't the answer to everything

and he was so happy by how kind and respectful you grew up

but since some weeks his son has been coming back home with bruises and everytime he was asking him where they come from he just shrug

now, draken wasn't worried for you because he knew you could take care of you and even if he teached you that you shouldn't fight all the time you could defend yourself

he was that you were getting into fight because you wanted to

so he called your schooled and your professor told him that he haven't saw anything

yet the day after that the school called him to say you were in the hospiral

he was so mad but he was more worried for you so he just rush to where you were

he saw one of your friend in front of your room and they told him everything, how you were bullied by a group in your class, how your teacher act like he never saw anything, how you refused to defend yourself, thinking you deserved it

draken looked at you, you weren't looking at them and he was so mad at your teacher and whoever sent you there

when he was sure you were okay he drove to your school and he was ready to commit arson, he wanted everyone that bullied fired of the school and when he talked to your teacher he really tried ot keep his calm

he saw he was scared but he didn't care, nobody hurt his son

— taiju

since you were born taiju wasn't the same man

he made it his personal mission to protect him and made him feel safe

he was never refusing anything to you and at some point he even thought you'll grow up to be arrogant but to his surprise you were the kindest soul

today he was in front of your school, waiting for you to go back home when he saw you with a little group of other guys that he assumed was your friends until he saw one pushing you on the ground and the others kicking you

he got out of the car and walked to them, his vein on his forehead showing

he grabbed one by the hoodie and told the other to fuck off which they did once they saw the imposant figure of your father

"you tell your dumb little friends that if they ever touch my son i'll take care of them myself, you heard me?"

the guy he was holding, shakily nod before running away once he let go of him

"you should've told me or do something about it" he tells you once he helped you getting up

you weren't looking at him "i didn't wanted to" you shrug

— kakucho

it wasn't a secret that your father was part of a gang and that it's how you got in a private school

people weren't really talking to you except for your one and only friend

you were eaily picked fun of because your father's money was dirty money and "you didn't deserved to be there"

your friend always defended you as much as they could and you promise you'll never tell a word to your father, scared of what he could say about you for not answering back

but once, the bodyguard he sent heard some kids saying awful things to you and he was obligated to reapeat to kakucho, that's his job

kakucho was so worried for you, he had a talk with you, saying he won't think less of you for not answering thise dumbasses and that he wasn't ashame either

when you told him you thought you deserved it, ngl he almost cried, he felt sad that his son felt like that about himself and he made you sure you knew you deserved the entire world, not to be treated badly

just like draken he would talk to the director of school and even to the parents of the people saying shit about you, telling them that they should feel ashame that their kids was saying such bullshit to someone

— izana

izana accepted that you do a sleepover with your friends

he was coming to ask if you needed something when he heard one of your friend say "and what about that guy that was hitting you the other day?" "yeah, i think he really hate me, today again he was threatening me just bc i looked at him" "you should say it to your dad" "and what he's gonna do? threaten a teen?"

and izana was so mad, he wanted to open the door and know who was the asshole hitting you

he doesn't care if he was a teen, no one touch his family

he waited until one of your friend came down to search for something and he asked them who it was, telling them not to tell you he knew and they told him everything, they were ready to give the adress and everything if it meant you'll be safe

izana then searched info on him and his family and when he got to him he threaten him, saying that if ever hit you, talk to you or look at you he'll know and he won't see the colour of the daylight ever again

after that day everytime he was seeing you in the hallway he was turning back

[gilmore-angel]

your hands are really soft // N.L x reader

Summary: being Neville's best friend since first year means you've picked up on things he does when hes nervous, and this is one of those moments.

Genre: fluff

Warning(s): panic attack, Snape slander (as we should), kiss at the end, I dont think anything else.

A/n: this is for @depressed-barnes 300 writing challenge!!! I used the prompts 8) Squeezing hand for comfort and 20) “Can I hold your hand?”. Heres the link to the original post. I lowkey hate this fic but whatever. Also idk if this is 300 words or not becauseI wrote it on my phone so sorry about that. Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! Hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist | navigation | turn on notifications for @baysfics to know when I post a fic<3

Neville Longbottom is a quiet, shy, nervous young man, being his bestfriend you know this better than anyone. You also know his nervous habits, bouncing his left knee, chewing his bottom lip, rapid blinking, and right now he was doing all of those, and you could understand why. You two were currently in potions with Professor Snape, the greasy haired man scared both of you. It wasn't strange for him to be on edge while in potions, but normally it's not this bad.

You leaned over to Neville, "Nev, you okay?" You whispered.

Instead of getting a verbal answer you got a frantic shake of the head, shaking no. You could see his chest falling up and down rapidly.

"Are you having a panic attack? Do you need to step out?"

"Please, I cant breathe."

"Shhh it's okay, its gonna be okay."

You raised your hand.

"Yes Y/n?" Snape said in his usual flat tone.

"May Neville and I step out for a minute? It's very important sir." Talking to Snape terrified you, but it was worth it for Neville.

"Has anyone died?"

His question shocked you.

"I- no sir."

"Is anyone going to die?"

"No sir."

"Then your fine, now as I was explaining..."

You had never wanted to punch a man more in your entire life. You looked over to Neville, only to see his eyes filled with panic.

"Hey, its okay. Class ends soon okay? Is there anything I can do right now to help?" You tried to sound as calm as possible, though inside you were also freaking out. The thought that he was being forced to just sit there while hes having a panic attack was awful to think about.

"C-can i- never mind, its stupid."

"No Nev, you can tell me."

"C-can I h-hold your h-hand?"

Your cheeks grew warm as you thought about holding hands with him. Although you were completely flustered you gave a nod and a warm smile. Your fingers intertwined, it felt so strangely right. He was warm, soft, perfect. Though you didn't notice, he was redder than a tomato. He'd been dreaming of this since first year. Holding your hand sent a wave of peace through him.

You sat hand in hand for the rest of class. When class did end you both awkwardly removed your hands from each other. As you were walking out of class you felt him tug your arm into a empty classroom. You stood in awkward silence for a minute until you finally spoke.

"Uh, why are we in here?"

"I- do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Well yeah, I do."

"Okay, can I try something? Just close your eyes."

You closed your eyes. After a few moments you felt warm breath on your face, you knew what the was doing.

"Is this okay?" He was worried he would make you uncomfortable.

"Yes, please."

After what felt like forever he softly placed his lips on yours. The kiss was gentle and sweet, just like him. You pulled away with soft smiles on your faces.

"Was that okay?" He asked.

"More than okay."

In the corner of your eye you saw a clock, showing that it was time for your next class.

"O-oh, we better get going." He said still processing the kiss.

"Yeah, your right. Let's go. Oh also."

"What?"

"Your hands are really soft"

[luveline]

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

-

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

[shinescape]

note: look at me procrastinating and wrote something again

Online Class

Imagine sitting at the four seater dining set in your apartment with the sunlight slowly seeping through the worn out blinds warming up your face as you zoned out from the morning lectures.

Occasionally, you looked up to the glass doors behind those old blinds and caught a glimpse of the sky. It was too early to think and use your brain but there you were with your laptop that would die out in twenty three minutes if you didn't get up and get the charger that was in your room.

Honestly, you couldn’t care less at that point, the soft pillows and blanket were the only things lingering in your head at the moment. As you lifted your head up again to stare at the morning sky, an unfamiliar figure stood in your area of sight.

Who is he and why was he stretching so freely in your living space?

Then you remembered. Lee Juyeon. He crashed at your place due to some girlfriend issue and you said okay without much thinking when his friend, who was also your housemate, asked you for permission.

Now you have to face this stranger all of a sudden. It wasn’t a complaint, more of an issue with yourself. He was a sight to see, better than the puffy clouds outside.

Your eyes followed his slim figure as his shirt hiked up every time he stretched his arms up in the air. The moment he turned, you both locked eyes. Your eyes widened at his face while he gave out a smile, the type that made your stomach flipped.

It’s way too early for this so you placed an arm over your front to make it stop, whatever that you were feeling. He walked over to you and peeked at your laptop’s screen. “Morning class?”

It was very obvious but you hummed as a reply. Your laptop made a sound and you grumbled back. Perfect timing. He backed away a bit and watched as you stood up, looking at him.

“Do you mind listening to this for a sec…I need to go grab the charger.” Then you realised, he was not your housemate whom you regularly asked that favour to but a habit was hard to let go and it would be awkward to take it back.

“Sure” With that, he went to sit and started listening to your lectures. You wasted no time and ran to your room trying to locate the charger amongst the piles of books and bags in your study corner.

Thoughts jumbled with what you had said to Juyeon and where you placed that charger. It was just pure mess. Finally locating it, you grabbed it and went out only to spot a confused Juyeon trying to do something on your laptop.

Not only that, you heard voices calling out your name and some other things you couldn't make up. A loud gasp left your lips when you saw the camera was on and everyone could see his face. You disabled the camera and stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

“Your professor, I think, was calling your name and I accidentally switched the camera on instead of the microphone and-” You held up a hand and went to write a short notice in the chat box before turning the laptop to face you and answered the professor as if the whole Juyeon showing his face on accident didn’t happen.

“Make sure this doesn't happen again next time. Your boyfriend must be very confused himself.”

You very much wanted to deny but instead smiled at the camera and nodded. “I’m sorry, this won’t happen again.” With a few clicks, a loud sigh left your lips as you unconsciously sat on him.

Another bad habit.

“Please call me if it happens again.” You said not realising what you were doing. The moment you felt his arm snaked around your waist to make sure you won't fall off was when you realised what you had done.

“There’s a next time?”

[goddess-evelle]

We are here for you

Someone requested this:

Yoo thought of a idea hear me out

Poly dream team x fm y/n

Okay so y/n is having a really bad week like really really bad, and when she gets home to the boys she has like the biggest mental breakdown, she throws things, she shouts a whole load of crap, once she is done shouting and breaking things she hudles in a ball and starts crying.

The boys try to calm her down while also dogging all the things she is throwing they try yelling her name but she can't hear them since she in like her 'own little world'. They leave her for a bit and they have a little talk to try and figure out what happened to her.

By the time she has calmed down she talks to the boys and it turn into a really heartwarming cute ass fluff.

Please can you do this pleaseeee😖

Warnings: Just fluffy

Dream team x fem reader

Okay, so I am not the best at writing fluff, but I gave it a try. <3

Your head banged on the table in front of you. You just got home from college. Your professor had given yet another essay. You were so tired of written essays. You had 5 essays to do, and while you had 2 of them started; they were so much trouble to write. You just wanted to lay in bed for 5 minutes minimum; you just needed to close your eyes for 5 minutes. You had been working so much; barely sleeping so that you could take advantage of the few hours the night provided. Your mind had been too busy thinking of themes to write about. The professor really thought that having a book helped; that only mad you want to slap him. Of course, it’s easier with a book; if he hadn’t given 3 books for 3 of the essays. The problem was that your other 2 professors thought the same thing giving you 2 more books to do the other two essays. You rolled your eyes as you tried to think of how to start the essay. Your eyes lighted up as a thought ran through your mind. Your hands moved quickly on the keyboard as you chased the idea squeezing the juice, and writing as much as you could. Your mind flowed as you wrote for what felt like hours. Your hands becoming numb by the time you finished.

You let out a sigh as you stretched limbs separating as your bones cracked. You looked at the hour 5:45 am you hadn’t even realized it was that early; you started at 11:13 pm working on the essay, so naturally you were a little tired, but you knew better than going to sleep. Thanks to those extra hours you were able to complete two essays which meant you only needed to finish two more, and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. You headed to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. However, when you reached the kitchen; the boys were standing right next to the coffee maker. You try to breathe as a you try to relax; spending many hours in front of the computer had given you a migraine. You close your eyes tightly as you gulped making your way to the coffee maker. Before you could even touch it; George’s hand came to stop you.

“You can’t just drink coffee all day; you have to sleep” George starts, and you can only roll your eyes. You didn’t have time for this; you just wanted to finish your essays you already had 3 done. You just needed an extra cup of coffee to finish the other 2 essays. You did not have time to be talking right now you had to finish your essays.

“I just want a cup of coffee; it’s no big deal. I just need to finish two of my essays” You say trying to keep your voice low; even though your mind rushed with angry thoughts. Why did they have to interfere in your life? It annoyed you; they didn’t even know how it felt to be surrounded by essays and projects.

“You took three cups of coffee yesterday; I saw you. You have to sleep; you’ve been drinking coffee none stop, and you are not even eating properly” Dream spoke up this time only making you angrier.

“I can’t sleep yet!” You yelled out before being able to stop yourself. “I have two more essays to finish; I just need to keep going, and I will be fine. I will eat after I finish them. I just really need to finish it.” You say voice desperate for some coffee your eyes could barely stay opened. The boys knew what a lack of sleep could do to a person that is why they tried to let you be, but it had gone too far. They had tried to make you eat something, but you refused saying that you didn’t have time. They were scared that you would get sick for not taking care of yourself properly.

“Y/n just please take a break. Your other two essays are due Friday, right? It’s Tuesday; I’m sure you have enough time to finish them.” Sapnap tried to help, but you only saw red.

“I have to finish them now! My mind is just working so fast; I finished three essays already. My mind is just flowing with ideas. I need to finish them now.” You said voice getting louder and louder as they didn’t give you what you wanted.

“We will not let you go back to writing unless you sleep for at least 8 hours” Dream started.

“And- you have to eat at least three meals during the day” Sapnap added trying to persuade you into giving in. You didn’t have any of it; eyes seeing red as you throw your coffee mug to the ground. The ceramic breaking instantly.

“I will not go to sleep! I just need coffee, and I will be good to go! Just get out of my fucking way!” You were completely yelling, and you could only think of the coffee. You pushed pass George as you got to the coffee maker only for Dream to snap it from your hold. Strong arm holding the coffee maker so that you couldn’t use it.

“The fuck are you doing?! Give it! I need the coffee” You said as you yanked the coffee maker towards you; Dream however, did not let go. A few seconds passed as you tried to get the coffee maker; only for Dream’s hand to slip as the coffee maker came crashing to the ground. You stared angrily at the shattered coffee maker that was pretty much useless now. Your body had taken too much as you slide to the ground looking at the coffee maker. Your mind rushed with thoughts as you began crying; the stress from college being too much. You cried to your heart’s content; you looked at Dream before standing from your spot on the floor saying:

“Why the fuck would you do that? Are you fucking stupid?” The words leaving your lips without a second thought as you confronted Dream; now coming chest to chest with him as you looked up at him rage taking over your actions. Your mind being too caught up on the stress to even think. Dream talked to you, but you didn’t even hear what he said.

“I’ve had enough of this. You will go to the bedroom, and you will sleep! I do not care what you want you have to sleep” Dream spoke to you his words being rough as he talked to you. He was done with this he could not let you treat yourself this way; you were hurting yourself for some stupid essays. You moved closer to him as your mind is blank; not even a single thought of what he just said. You knew he was talking, but your mind was too tired to pay attention.

“Y/n please, we don’t want you to get hurt. You could get sick” Sapnap tried, but before he could finish George moved towards you putting a hand on your cheek finally gaining your attention as he said “Exactly, what good are you if you get sick now? You won’t even be able to finish the essays. Just take a break; go sleep, and eat something.” Your eyes widened as you realized what they were saying; they were right; you could get sick, and then you wouldn’t be able to finish the essays. You gave George a small nod as he took you to the bedroom to get you to sleep.

“I swear to god. She always does what George tells her to.” Sapnap grunted being slightly jealous of George’s ability to make you obey him. Dream laughed at Sapnap’s words knowing it was true. George knew how to get you to follow his words.

You opened your eyes to find the boys looking at you. Sapnap had a bowl of food in his hand. While Dream had a water bottle. You sat up as Sapnap handed you the food.

“Thank you” you said, but your mind rushed with what happened earlier. “I am sorry about earlier; I didn’t mean to be rude. I just- I’m just stressed” You said trying to explain yourself.

“We know; it’s okay. We are not mad at you; we just want you to take care of yourself. We love you so much; we don’t want anything bad happening to you.” George said while he engulfed you in a hug.

“We are here to help. You can talk to us about whatever you want. We love you so much; we are here for you” Sapnap said holding your hand. Dream bent down to give you a kiss, and the three of you laid in bed as the boys watched you eat some much-needed food. The night ended with you finishing your two essays as the boys cuddled, and kissed you until you all fell asleep.

[insecateur]

saw a prompt yesterday and wrote a 605 words ficlet. i think i might post it on ao3 later but for now here it is. the prompt was “trying not to fall in love.” warning for a brief mention of what i’m fairly sure counts as self-harm though lysandre doesn’t necessarily think of it that way.

btw, i had fun doing this, so if you’d like to send me prompts in my askbox to write short stuff like this, feel free! i like vague/themed prompts better than more specific/detailed stuff but i’ll take anything. keeps the writing brain active but not to the point where i can’t do anything else 🤪

He doesn't know how to dress; it's the second thing Lysandre notices. It's not a bad thing, really, though perhaps it should be. It's a neutral, objective assessment of fact: Professor Augustine Sycamore dresses like he's just grabbed whatever clothes he had available that morning and didn't think about it any further. When he crosses his legs at the table, deep in conversation with one of the waiters, the bottom of his pants slides up to fully reveal bright red socks that completely clash with the rest of his outfit. 

It occurs to Lysandre, too late, that staring at a stranger's ankles is inappropriate. The professor turns toward him, his eyes shining under the overhead lights of the café, and his lips stretch into the lazy grin of someone who's used to being stared at. Lysandre frowns, but instead of looking away the way people do when he glares at them, his smile grows larger, strangely fond.

In the end, it's Lysandre who averts his gaze first. After all, there's nothing wrong with a tactical retreat.

   

The first thing Lysandre notices–

The first thing Lysandre notices doesn't matter.

   

Professor Sycamore likes good food and good coffee. Every time he visits, he eats many pastries that he apparently metabolizes right away, judging by the fact that he looks like he weighs about as much as a leavanny. He talks about his research, about his travels, about the dishes and specialties he's tried in Unova or in Sinnoh, to the waiters, to the other clients, to the friends and colleagues he brings with him, and to Lysandre, when he walks up to his table and asks how he's enjoying his trips to the café.

It stands to reason that he would interact with such a prestigious figure when he's visiting his establishment, of course. There's nothing wrong with sitting beside the professor to listen as he recounts some of his adventures as a young apprentice under Professor Rowan. Lysandre is curious about his research, too; about mega-evolution, about the strays he keeps in the gardens, about the work he does to make Kalos a better place for both humans and pokémons.

There's nothing more to it. He doesn't think about him, later, while he helps his employees with cleaning up, doesn't think about his long, slender fingers fiddling with his wristwatch, doesn't think about the urges he's had to repress to tuck his messy strands of hair back behind his ear, doesn't think about the look in his eyes when he catches him staring. There's nothing to catch, which means there's nothing to the way the professor tilts his head at him, smiling kindly, the silent question that Lysandre knows is on his lips.

He doesn't think about any of that. He doesn't bury his hands in his pyroar's mane until they prickle and burn, so he can focus on something concrete, tangible, like pain, instead of–

His pokémon pulls away before he can really hurt himself. He pets him on the muzzle and murmurs soothing words, though he's not sure who they're aimed at.

 

"You could accompany me to the lab, if you'd like," the professor says, his chin resting on his joint hands, smiling his usual lazy, easy smile. "I could use someone like you to help with some things."

He wants to ask, "What things?" but his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth. The coffee burns his throat, though at least now he can pretend that it's the reason behind his racing heartbeat.

"Of course," Lysandre replies, holding his cup in front of his face. "I'd be honored to assist you."

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.