#but id like to think if you see someone with headphones on in public/with a fidget cube

[hella1975]

had a horrible time tonight 😭😭😭 it was "mandatory family dinner" night where I'm forced to go out to a restaurant w my family, I'm autistic (wow guess why "mandatory" became a part of the name) so during those times I can barely talk (best case scenario. Sometimes I'm completely mute) and I have to wear headphones while I keep my head down. My family are ASSHOLES to servers like their motto is "well its their job to get it down exactly how we like" so they're always asking for specifics or stuff like that. I don't like fruit or pulp in my drinks, I got that without knowing but if it's already done then you're just going to make it more of a problem than it is if you try to fix it for me, so I dealt w it, but my family just woULD NOT let it GO. They asked the server for a fruitless drink, a drink meant for fruit in it 😭😭😭 now I can't lie so when my family asked if that was good it was just THE MOST painful and awkward scene of me bluntly saying "I don't know. I don't care." I know I came off so rude and hostile towards the girl like I hadn't meant to so I just put my fidget cube on the table to try to clear things up NFJSJSMSKW people just automatically put it in their heads not to be bothered if I'm strange as soon as I show the fidget cube and honestly it's how I solve all my problems. anyways I'm sharing this because I only made it through that night because I was mentally thinking about how I was gonna tell you this

oh that's so shit that you had a stressful night love and im glad i could help in some way, i actually find myself doing that a lot when i have shit experiences i immediately start going 'okay but how am i gonna tell the cult about this' and it surprisingly really helps lmao. something about actually making you parse through it and communicate it methinks

can i just say that as a waitress and as someone who has worked in the catering industry since i was a mardy sixteen year old, the staff aren't evil. sure you'll get some waitresses that are bitchy and don't want to be there, but most of the time, they're actually very nice. floor work (so what this girl was doing in serving you guys and working a section) is the work every waitress wants to be doing. i know i myself actually - believe it or not - really enjoy working a section. other options are shit like running food or polishing cutlery or clearing tables etc etc, it's much less fun than generally interacting with other people. and if you had a waitress who knew anything about anything, i can guarantee you she wasn't bothered. you get rude customers. it happens. for me, i always have more sympathy for younger people clearly out with their family, MORE SO if their family are the rude kind. you can always always tell when they dont want to be there and are embarrassed by their family's behaviour, and i promise you that girl wouldn't have been cross.

but on the other end, if you did have a shitty waitress or she was just having a bad day and this tipped the scale, one thing about working in the catering industry is you genuinely stop seeing people as people. it sounds awful but a customer is not a person to me; they're their own thing. i will literally spend 5 minutes talking to one guy and turn around without even knowing what colour his hair was. it's actually uncanny how little i remember people's faces and if they came back again another time i would be none the wiser. so at least remember that. it probably wasn't as bad as it felt, and if it was, that waitress has already forgotten what any of you look like anyway lmao

#also this might just be bc my dad's on the spectrum so im more aware of it than a lot of people #but id like to think if you see someone with headphones on in public/with a fidget cube #then you'd understand that they're possibly autistic and this isn't the most fun environment #particularly if you've been working a catering industry job for any extended period of time #like she probably had more sympathy for you from the get-go in that case #idk bestie just trust me when i say waitresses have ALWAYS had worse #im sorry it was so shitty for you just try not to be too hard on yourself for it <3 #ask

[autisticgirliesbracket]

What makes Futaba Sakura from Persona 5 the autistic girlie ever of all time? Here's what the people have to say:

Futaba-related asks/reblogs: x This post will be updated after each round!

Image ID in alt text and under the readmore.

[Image ID. White slide with a screenshot of Futaba in the bottom left corner. She is surrounded by text boxes which read,

"She’s a hikkikomori and a hacker genius. She initially has bad social anxiety due to trauma and does not leave her room."

"She's just like me fr fr (im autistic girlie)"

"Generally described as being incredibly introverted and socially anxious, however having no problem opening up if the conversation is about something that interests her. She also has a deep interest in hacking and computers (if the protagonist claims to have built his own PC, she asks for the specific details on it, such as GPU, CPU, RAM, ect.) There are more details I feel are autistic but I'm not sure how to word them !!"

"Talks in Video Game references and wired expressions. At one point she leaves a conversation because an Anime she wanted to watch was on. Helped me come to terms with my own Autism. Covered her face with a weird mask and a towel (separate events) because she didn't want to show her face in Public. Gets pissed off that someone messes with the her Neo Featherman Figure (basically the Persona equivalent of Power Rangers or Super Sentai). Overall just a massive nerd."

"First of all: The way she sits . little gremlin girl. Second of all. Social awkwardness (she has SO MUCH). Third. She's 15 years old and an international hacker, i mean come on, you cant DO THAt unless youre at least a little autistic. 4. Constantly tries to wear things over her head to avoid being looked at. Five. Her room is the dirtiest place on the planet, filled with snacks and figurines etc. Sixth. Look come on please shes autistic"

"She has social anxiety, doesn't really understand social norms and relates a lot of her real life experiences to video games. She also hyperfixates on the things she's working on and says a lot of strange things without thinking about it."

"Futaba is intensely afraid of social interaction (living in her room for years, unable to exit the house without a meltdown), including her almost constantly wearing headphones (which, to be, read as sensory comfort items). She's only really comfortable around her close friends and family, around who she becomes a lot more excitable and energetic. She has deep and passionate interests in the things she loves, and tends to become hyper focused on whatever shes tasked herself with, even neglecting her own health during which. It's very easy to equate her love of video games to a special interest, as it influences the way she sees the world, to the point where she calls the main character her "key item", since he helps her agoraphobia, saying she needs to "level up" to improve her social skills. To top it all off, her voice actress, Erica Lindbeck, has stated that she played Futaba as if she was autistic."

"Girl had so much autism stored in her body."

"It is very obvious in nearly everything she does that they intended for her to be autistic. Literally just watch almost any cutscene with her and you'll see it (well. Ideally after her palace is taken care of since she's going through stuff and the 'tism is less obvious as a result)"

"she is soooo autism girlswag coded. When you first befriend her and hang out, the characters all have trouble sort of connecting with her, but once they realize they are being way too obnoxiously formal/normal they start asking her about stuff she is interested in, which then she talks very excitedly about. Im sort of passively watching someone play persona 5 so i might have gotten something wrong but eee she is so coded to me <3 and not in a bad way imo ik sometimes things can be TOO stereotypical but yknow yknow"

"Struggles with social interactions, special interest in computers and video games, her English voice actor intentionally played her with the idea that she's autistic."

"She's obsessed with and so good with computers she was a world reknowned hacker before the story even began, she struggles with interacting with people and was bullied through out her entire childhood for being "weird" and being able to memorize books and other things. Her outfits almost always include her wearing headphones (which i personally hc to be to reduce sounds) and there are scenes where she experiences sensory overload that turns into panic attacks. A lot of her character arc is about how after a personal tragedy she completely isolated herself from the outside world and now shes trying to ease back into interacting with people with the support of her family and new friends. When trying to connect with her, the quickest way they got her to relax and open up was when one character got her talking about an in universe sentai show she loves. Also her English voice actor said in interviews that she performed Futaba with her being autistic in mind because everything abt her character just reads as autistic and seeing someone struggle w the same issues I did was super important to me when i got into p5."

"Futaba is incredibly autistic-coded. She couldn’t leave her room or speak to strangers due to trauma, but she also was “quirky” before the trauma. She’s a computer genius and can get so obsessed with her work that she doesn’t hear or acknowledge other people. She wears headphones almost all the time and sits with her knees up (odd posture). Lastly, her mother was known to also be “odd” and was also very absorbed in her work. Autism is often inherited, so my personal read is that both of them are autistic. I’m missing lots of things I’m sure but she’s the best."

"All of her interests are special <3, major social anxiety, partially nonverbal (just like me fr), one of the only people she's constantly jokingly mean to is also very autistic coded which idk if that's a me experience but i can only be joke mean to other autistic people. allistics wouldn't understand. She cannot sit properly!!! Very important she has that autistic ball sitting position"

"She’s a genius hacker nerd who up until certain events in the game never left her room or her house due to trauma. She’s gets nervous and overwhelmed very easily once she starts expanding her comfort zone, but she doesn’t let that stop her. At certain points when she has to interact with people she isn’t comfortable with she puts on a disturbing doll head mask. At one point she has a miniature meltdown in the middle of a crowded store, because she tried pushing her boundaries a little too fast and got overwhelmed until the protagonist was able to find her. She loves anime and collects figurines and gets annoyed when her display of them is messed with. Her personality is socially awkward and kind of bratty when she’s comfortable and I don’t mean that in a negative way at all, she’s great!"

"very bad with people, obsessed with programing and Nerd Shit, i love her and she is very cool"

"she has a massive special interest in technology, her entire character arc is helping her learn to socialize, she sits like a GREMLIN"

"she is a epic hacker gamer girl so we are within the margins for trans and autism, she has a hard time with eye contact, she has intense social anxiety and wahooooooo she has the special interests !! on a side note she has chronic fatigue so damn just like me fr!! and shes so fun!! ack!!!" End ID.]

#autistic girlies bracket #autistic girlie masterpost #persona 5 #futaba sakura

[ghoste-catte]

hi! I'm not sure if this is an odd question but do you ever experience anxiety when it comes to sharing your fics and if so, how do you deal with that? I used to enjoy writing but somehow I got stuck in a loop where I avoid sharing my works out of fear that others will judge what I create but this also keeps me from improving at all. I know content creators are generally told to not worry about making mistakes and that it's also part or the process but I find this is easier said than done.. (this makes me respect any kind of artist so much more tbh. like, I think the worst kind of pressure is the one you put onto yourself and idk how others deal with that?) anyways, thanks for reading, I'm a big fan of yours 🙏🥰

Not an odd question at all!

When I first started writing fic as an adult, I had horrible anxiety about it. I had written maybe 10 "fics" as a teenager, but they were all really short or something stupid I had written with friends. So when I dipped my toes back into fanfic in my 20s, I had to sit in complete isolation in my bedroom, with the door closed, with headphones in. Even though my wife knew I was writing fic, I absolutely could not have her in the room with me. When I first started, I was so mortified that I'd just write G and L if I was handwriting in a notebook, just in case someone inexplicably saw it.

For me, what helped me get over that escalating anxiety and actually post the damn thing was twofold:

I joined an event, where I had assigned prompts and an assigned posting date, so I felt a sense of external pressure and obligation to post.

I had been rolling Hanakotoba around in my head for literal years, and I really did want people to read it.

I do understand the feeling of vulnerability with taking the text and putting it out there for others. There's often, for me at least (still to this day!), a feeling of apprehension about people being able to know things about me based on my work. I overcome this generally by writing for events, prompts, and other people. It both ups the pressure to actually produce and post something and feels a bit less vulnerable: no, see, I wrote this for something; this isn't just my personal id on display.

So if your issue is the mortifying idea of being known, we're lucky to live in a time where you have a few options:

You can post your fic to the Anonymous collection on Ao3, so that no one ties it to you specifically.

You can pick a username that doesn't link to any of your other usernames and not link your socials to the fic, leaving it fully pseudonymous.

You can turn off comments, screen comments, or disallow comments from guest users on Ao3.

You can post the fic and orphan it (though this removes any control you have over the fic like being able to edit or delete it).

You can post the fic with minimal tags (just 'Creator Chose Not to Warn' and a fandom), to reduce the likelihood of it being seen.

Add a disclaimer (even one of those silly tags like 'No beta; we die like Neji') or something in the author's note to let potential readers know how you're feeling. Something like: "Hey, this is my first time posting a fic, so I'm really nervous! Encouragement is very welcome." (The one thing I wouldn't suggest doing is putting something like, "I know this sucks!" - that does genuinely turn people off from reading.)

If your concern is the publication of judgment, I don't think you have much to worry about there. Fandom has largely moved away from a concrit culture (where public posting was automatically assumed to be an invitation for people to critique your work, sometimes harshly). I rarely see people leave critical comments on fic. That's not to say I've never seen them, but they're easy enough to delete and just not respond to.

On the other hand, if you're just worried about internet randos thinking things about you in their head but not saying anything ... I hate to not have very good advice about this, but it really is just something you have to let go. Just like you can't control what anyone thinks of you in real life, you can't control how they think of you or your work online. Your work isn't gonna be for everyone, and that's okay! What matters is that you like it or want to share it.

One last thing: There's no shame in writing for yourself and not publishing. You don't need to publish to improve. If improvement is your goal, check out writing advice blogs, pick apart the stories you like to find the things that make them work for you, and read voraciously. It's practice that leads to improvement, not publication.

Sorry for the essay. I hope this is helpful!!

#answered #Anonymous

[tobiogf]

𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐩𝐭 𝟐)

chemistry first period wasn’t ideal but when was school ever? the teacher was already at the front of the class and you, at the very back where you felt you belonged. restless, you decided to stay standing at the long desk while the teacher marked up the board with today’s objectives.

a boy took a seat beside you and you recognized him as one of issei’s friends, oikawa. “is this place taken?” he asked politely. 

“yes,” you responded and he quirked a brow which prompted you to smile. “by you, of course.” 

“lame,” oikawa chuckled, shaking his head but he returned your smile and you directed your attention back towards the teacher. issei walked in a few minutes late and apologized profusely to the teacher, bowing down 90 degrees too for added effect. you smiled to yourself while the teacher accepted it and let issei into the classroom. he was always the teacher’s favorite.

“have you been paying attention?” issei asked you, tossing his bag to the floor and dropping down onto the seat next to oikawa -- it was your seat but you had favored standing up for the lesson. 

“uh, yeah,” you said.

“good,” issei replied breathlessly, his gaze falling over the shape of your ass over your skirt. “keep paying attention, i want you as my partner for the practical.” you jolted upright completely as one of his cold hands gripped your thigh and squeezed it. 

you scribbled down your notes furiously, trying to ignore the feeling of issei’s hand inching up your thigh and then your heart leaping into your throat when his knuckles brushed up against your underwear. 

“issei,” you said through a clenched jaw. 

“whatttt... i can’t have some fun?” he asked quietly, pulling his hand out of your skirt and reaching up to run it through your hair, fingers curling and tugging lightly. “come on, the teacher’s talking, y/n... be a good girl and listen.”

you bit your lip. “quit playing with me, then...”

“who’s playing...? certainly not me,” issei chuckled, roughly pulling at your hair in his fist and pressed his mouth against your lower back. you choked back a moan and used your free hand to shove him backwards as they teacher gazed skeptically at the two of you while talking. 

“are you fucking serious, mattsun... right now?” asked oikawa with a grimace. you lowered your head into your notebook. 

“what? you want some?” said issei, pushing your skirt up your legs to give his friend a view of your ass. you gasped, yanking your skirt down as issei laughed quietly, heat spreading across your face. 

oikawa sighed, shaking his head as he turned back to teacher. “i fucking hate you.”

          ***

“hey issei, could you please help me with this calculus assignment?” you asked, holding the phone towards you.

“yeah,” came issei’s cracked voice on the speaker. “which question?” you tapped your pen nervously on the paper.

“it’s actually... kind of... the whole thing.”

issei chuckled and you could practically see him shaking his head in amusement. “alright fine, let’s do a video call. but I better get paid 30 bucks for this.” smiling gratefully, you clicked on the camera icon and issei’s face popped up on your screen, a pair of large headphones around his neck.

“oh, sorry. were you doing something?” you asked.

“no, don’t worry— i’m waiting for people to come online,” he assured you and you nodded, flipping the camera to show him your homework. “ahhhh i got stuck here too but it’s actually pretty easy, look...”

with a bit of guidance from issei, your confusion had been cleared and you were pretty confident that you’d be able to complete the rest of the assignment on your own.

“thanks so much,” you said, turning the camera back to your face once again. “i’ll pay you at school, alright?”

“aw babe, i was kidding,” issei laughed, sliding the headphones back over his ears. “i’m happy to help.” your heart fluttered as issei propped the phone up on his table and grabbed his controller before turning back to his computer screen. you decided to continue working on the assignment, scribbling down the answers you were sure of this time but every now and then your gaze would shift to issei — the way his eyes were glued to the screen, his fingers moving briskly on his controller, the way he was slouched on his gaming chair.

you breathed in deeply. “issei, i can’t focus— I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” you said, reaching for your phone.

“no, no, y/n, don’t go,” issei responded, glancing at you every other second as he was trying not to lose. “you’re so pretty, i want to talk to you.”

“issei,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes. he always knew what to say so sweetly to bring you back to him. “it’s not like you’re even talking to me, you’re on your game the whole time.”

“okay, i’ll exit the game,” issei said quickly and then spoke into his mic. “guys, i gotta go, my bitch mom is on my ass.” you raised your brow and watched issei tug his headphones off and toss them to the side before rolling around in his chair to face you. “see, i’m all yours.”

“your ‘bitch mom’?” you said and issei laughed.

“i’m sorry, i had to give them a good excuse.”

you giggled, carrying your phone over to your bed and lying down, holding the phone above your face. “i’m not a good enough excuse?” you asked, aware of the flirtatious tone of your voice.

“mm, you’re the best excuse,” issei rambled with a grin. “i like the view.” you smiled, flattered knowing his gaze had been drawn to the low collar of your shirt almost immediately. you flipped over onto your stomach, giving him a better look into your shirt, your breasts pressed together by your elbows.

“what view?” you teased.

“wowwww, y/n... putting on a nice show for me?”

in hindsight you would’ve been disappointed in yourself for behaving this way. issei wasn’t interested in talking to you on the phone, you knew this. but there was something about him, his face, his voice, the way he acted — you couldn’t quite put your finger on it — that made you crave his validation like no one else. you wanted him to crave you like no one else.

“no, stay like that... just like that,” said issei, teeth clamped over his bottom lip.

“like this?” you asked.

“oh fuck, y/n...”

you blushed, watching his arms move under the table and you were sure he was unbuttoning his pants. he reached for his phone and it shook almost violently.

“a-are you screenshotting?”

“yeahhh... why wouldn’t i? you’re so fuckin’ hot, like” issei breathed, watching you as his arm moved slowly between his legs.

“issei...” you whispered.

“don’t be embarrassed — you’re beautiful,” he said. “i think your body’s perfect — you’d look so good under me — or on top, riding my cock while i watch your cute tits bounce.” there was a sickening flutter in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed hard, staring at issei’s facial expressions and letting the sound of his soft groans shoot right through you, making you squeeze your legs together. 

“are you close?” you asked, completely entranced by his little performance. 

“ah, shit... yeah...” issei mumbled, his head hanging back while his hand sped up. “y/n...”

“hm, issei?”

“l-let me see you, baby.”

you couldn’t help but obey immediately, setting your phone against the bedframe and sitting up on your knees before yanking your shirt off and slowly unclasping your bra. 

“good girl... ah... fuck, i’m coming... oh my goddd...”

you gulped back a surplus of saliva, watching the high dissolve from issei’s eyes as he dropped his chin and looked at you with an expression that made you swallow a whimper. 

“can i see?” you asked, dumbfounded and issei chuckled, cheeks flushed. 

          ***

outside the gym that morning, a few freshman girls had gathered on the grassy field to sell tickets to prom for extra credit. you had joined them on the grass, gushing about how the poster looked amazing. unfortunately, you couldn’t afford a ticket. each one was 50 dollars and you had more essential things to spending that kind of money on. 

“prom?” someone said behind you and you knew it was issei. 

“yeah, are you going to buy a ticket?” asked one of the girls.

“well, why not... sounds fun, huh?” said issei, swinging the lanyard of his student ID in his hand as he sunk to the ground next to you. 

the girl grinned. “thank you, we don’t have enough funds so we’re trying to get enough people to come as possible.” she took the money from issei and you bent forward to grab a ticket for him, almost instantly feeling his hand slip between your legs. you inhaled a sharp breath, giving him the ticket while remaining frozen in your position. 

“wait, aren’t you guys freshmen?” asked issei, blinking in curiosity at the girls. 

“yeah, we’re in this club to organize prom for extra credit,” the girl responded and issei nodded in thought, pressing the corner of his ID card between your folds. you held back a yelp and slapped his hand away while issei conversed with the girls so casually. 

he’d replaced the card with his hand, pushing aside your underwear to dip his fingers into you and your knees aching as you tried to remain composed while simultaneously making sure no one could see what he was doing to you. 

“what the fuck is wrong with you, we’re in public,” you whispered, barely moving your mouth as you stared at the blurry grass beneath you. his fingers felt way too good. 

“nothing, i’m just obsessed with your pussy,” issei murmured back and the words alone caused you to come undone right there.

“issei,” you croaked, fingers curling into the grass. 

“you okay?” asked the girl and you gave her a watery smile. 

“oh, shit, thanks for reminding me, y/n,” said issei, standing up and pulling you to your feet along with him. “i have volleyball practice. thanks for the ticket.” 

before long the two of you were in the empty boys’ locker room. “let me see,” issei had said, tugging on your underwear and glancing inside before grinning proudly at his work. he said you owed him for making you come so easily earlier as he pushed you to your knees and eased himself into your mouth. you’d never seen him this bare before and you hadn’t expected him to be this big but issei guided you with instructions and praises. he held himself back until he physically couldn’t anymore and he was thrusting into your mouth until tears slid down your cheeks. 

“crying already, babe?” he cooed, a hand around your neck as he helped you to your feet and wiped your mouth with his thumb. “was it too big for you, hm? you’re so pretty...” you let him kiss your mouth, stumbling weakly against the wall as issei’s hands ran down your sides. then he was pulling away and pressing a few bills against your tear-stained cheeks. 

“for the blowjob,” he whispered with a smile and you stared at him in confusion. “it’s fifty dollars, come on... get yourself a ticket. i can’t wait to fuck you at prom.” 

i saw all ur guys’ love for this one so i decided to make a part 2 after all. it’s kind of messy, def doesn’t hit the same lol but i listen to the people. sadly, i will not be continuing this with a third part cause i feel like it’d just ruin the vibe of it <3 hope u enjoy this though

#matsukawa issei #matsukawa #matsukawa smut #mattsun #mattsun x reader #anime #anime smut #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader

[kjack89]

E studying late in the library, R as the late-night security guard

The only sound that came from the far corner of the second floor of the library was the steady, and occasionally emphatic, clacking of laptop keys as Enjolras hunched over his laptop. He only paused to grab a sip of coffee or swipe a notification from Twitter off of his phone screen, and as the time crept past midnight, he showed no sign of slowing down.

At least, he showed no sign until, without warning, the lights turned off.

Enjolras looked up, his face lit only by his laptop screen. “Hello?” he called, but no one answered. “Is anyone there?”

Again, there was no answer, and Enjolras glanced at first the time on his phone screen and then at the document he was working on, which was no closer to being done than it had been when he had started working on it some two hours prior, and he groaned. “God damnit,” he sighed, standing up and grabbing his phone and, after only a moment of hesitation, his coffee.

He made his way to the stairs, guided by the dim glow of the exit sign. Luckily, the lights were on in the stairwell, and Enjolras made his way to the ground floor. The lights were also off on the first floor, and Enjolras scowled before catching sight of a light from an office behind the circulation desk.

Enjolras stalked over and rapped his knuckles against the desk. “Hello?” he called, peering into the office. There was a man in there, lounging in his chair, and Enjolras raised his voice. “Excuse me?” The man did not look up and Enjolras scowled in irritation before practically bellowing, “Excuse me!”

The man startled upright, blinking owlishly through the window at Enjolras before standing and making his way to the office door. “Can I help you?” he asked mildly, which caused Enjolras’s blood pressure to skyrocket.

“Someone turned the lights off,” he said stiffly.

The man raised one dark eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “On the second floor,” he said. “Someone turned the lights off.”

Leaning casually against the doorway and crossing his arms in front of his chest – Enjolras tried not to stare at how his t-shirt stretched across his chest as he did – the man then had the audacity to smile at him. “I’m sure they did.”

“Right,” Enjolras said, tearing his eyes away from the tattoo on the man’s bicep. “Only, I’m trying to get some work done and that normally requires, y’know, light.”

The man nodded. “One might think.”

Enjolras counted to five in his head to try and stop from yelling. “Are you going to turn the lights back on?”

The man tugged at the collar of his university t-shirt as he considered it. “No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m not going to turn the lights back on.”

Enjolras stared at him, his mouth hanging open, before drawing himself up to glare at him. “And why the hell not?” he demanded.

The man shrugged. “Library closed at midnight.”

Enjolras blinked. “Since when?”

“Since we’re operating under summer break hours,” the man told him, sounding far too amused, and Enjolras scowled again.

“It’s May.”

The man smiled lazily at him. “Your grasp of the calendar year notwithstanding, the semester’s over, so the library is no longer open 24/7.”

Enjolras tried very hard not to seethe. “So you’re kicking me out.”

The man shrugged again. “I mean, I’m not gonna bodily remove you from the building or something, but yeah, I am gonna ask you nicely to leave, and if you refuse, I’ll probably have to call campus security.”

Enjolras’s brow furrowed. “You’re not campus security?”

“I’m library security,” the man corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?” Enjolras asked sourly.

“Slightly less fascist,” the man said cheerfully, and Enjolras almost smiled. Keyword being almost. “Also I’m a student, and mostly I’m here to make sure folks swipe their IDs when they come in and to stop folks from walking out with books they haven’t checked out.”

Enjolras cocked his head. “And what’s the punishment for that?”

“Normally me escorting them to the checkout counter so that they can check them out.”

Enjolras huffed a dry laugh. “I’m not getting the vibe that you have a lot of authority here.”

The man chuckled. “That’s because I don’t.” He hesitated before adding, “My name’s Grantaire. And you are…?”

“Not sharing my name to prevent you from sharing it with campus security,” Enjolras replied coolly.

Grantaire grinned. “That’s a mouthful, your parents must’ve really hated you.”

Enjolras smiled slightly as well. “I mean, they did, but not for that reason.”

Grantaire took a step towards him. “If I promise not to report you, will you tell me your name?”

“How about you turn the lights on the second floor back on?” Enjolras countered.

“They’re on a timer, and I don’t have the means of overriding it, so unless you want me to stand up there holding my flashlight up for you to read by…”

Enjolras smirked. “Now that is a tempting thought.”

Grantaire gave him what Enjolras imagined he thought of as a pleading look. “C’mon, tell your name. I can go through the records of ID swipes, but I’d really rather not have to take that kind of time.”

“Why do you want to know my name so badly?” Enjolras asked.

“Because I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing a lot of you this summer,” Grantaire said archly. “Besides, I like to know the name of the cute guy I’ve been flirting with for the last fifteen minutes.”

Enjolras opened his mouth to scoff, or to tell him that this wasn’t flirting, or to do any number of things to rebuff the implication, but instead, what came out was, “Enjolras.”

Grantaire blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“My name is Enjolras.”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire repeated, a slow smile crossing his face. “Wow, your parents really did hate you.”

“Almost as much as yours,” Enjolras shot back, “naming you Grantaire.”

Grantaire laughed. “Like you said, mine did too, but not because of the name.” He hesitated. “Why don’t you work down here?”

Enjolras blinked. “What?”

“I can’t turn the lights back on upstairs, and the only lights are going to be in stairwells or around emergency exits, or here, at my desk. As comfortable as I imagine studying in the stairwell would be, I’m pretty sure I can rustle up another chair for you.”

The offer took him by surprise, and Enjolras hesitated, trying to find a good reason not to and coming up short. “Are you going to watch TV all night?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Maybe. But I can put some headphones on if it’ll bother you.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you sort of need to pay attention to the security of the building?”

“Yes, because I’m sure all of the students who have gone home for the summer are planning to break into the library,” Grantaire said dryly.

Enjolras laughed lightly. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Grantaire perked up. “So is that a yes?”

Enjolras hesitated for only a moment more before jerking a nod. “Let me grab my stuff.”

Grantaire grinned. I’ll be here.”

“I’m sure you will,” Enjolras muttered, turning around to grab his things from upstairs. He knew that he should just go home, or maybe move to Starbucks or the student union, both of which he was pretty sure were still open 24/7.

But if he was being honest, he was mostly just working to have something to do while he waited for Combeferre and Courfeyrac to get back to campus. And besides, whether or not it was flirting, if Enjolras was being entirely honest, he hadn’t entirely hated the conversation he’d had with Grantaire.

Even if Grantaire was two steps away from being a fascist cop.

His mind made up, Enjolras gathering his belongings and made his way back to the circulation desk, letting himself behind the desk and joining Grantaire back in the office, where, true to his word, Grantaire had procured another chair. “Voila,” Grantaire said, grinning up at him, and Enjolras set his stuff down on the desk, glancing at the computer screen, which was paused on an advertisement.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

Grantaire glanced at the computer as if he’d completely forgotten he was watching anything. “Oh, uh, Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

“Seriously?” Enjolras demanded.

“Yeah, well, it’s quite popular—”

Enjolras snorted. “Sure, it’s copaganda repackaged into a sitcom, what’s not to love?”

Grantaire whistled lowly. “Wow, you must be fun at parties.”

“I make it my business not to attend too many parties,” Enjolras retorted.

Grantaire looked amused. “I’m not entirely sure that’s the comeback you think it is.”

Enjolras had realized the same thing, and flushed slightly. “Seriously, though, don’t you understand what role shows like Brooklyn Nine-Nine or Law & Order or—”

“Or Chicago PD or NCIS or CSI when it was still airing,” Grantaire continued, nodding officiously.

Enjolras glared at him. “My point,” he said icily, “is that these shows have engendered in the American public a tacit complicity in the ever-expanding and increasing militarization of our police.”

Grantaire nodded. “They sure do.”

“You agree with me?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. “That surprises you?”

Enjolras shrugged. “I mean, I was expecting even boilerplate pushback about how it’s ‘just a show’ or something like that.”

“Entertainment is as much a reflection of society as it is a tool to shape it,” Grantaire said, propping his feet up on the desk. “Only an idiot would argue against that.”

“And I’m meant to believe you’re no idiot,” Enjolras said dryly. “So then are you just...ok with the militarization of our police?”

Grantaire sighed. “Of course not.”

“Ok, so you acknowledge the role shows like this play, and you are against said role, but you’re watching it anyway?”

Grantaire considered it for a moment. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he said cheerfully.

Enjolras stared at him. “But...why?”

“Because I believe you can critically engage with the media you consume while also, y’know, consuming it,” Grantaire said. “Besides, it’s funny.” Enjolras shook his head slowly but Grantaire didn’t let him speak, instead patting the seat next to him invitingly. “Look, you and I can and probably will argue about this all night, but how about you sit for it? I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

“Really?” Grantaire asked mildly. “I would think you of all people would be more in favor of an egalitarian seating arrangement.”

Even though Enjolras glared at him, he nonetheless sat down. “Fine,” he said stiffly. “But don’t think that this conversation is done.”

Grantaire grinned at him. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I’ve got all night. Are you going somewhere?”

This time, Enjolras didn’t hesitate. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#Enjolras #Grantaire #Enjolras x Grantaire #exr #enjoltaire #ask #answered #hey nonny #les miserables #fanfiction #one shot #modern au #developing relationship #prompt fill #Anonymous

[volleyball-dontknowher]

Break up with your girlfriend and date me instead

WOrds: 1.7k 

Warnings: None

Characters, Kenma, Tsukishima and HInata (all seperate and x reader)

Requests are open! 

Kenma 

It had been almost six months since yoou and Kenma started dating and it went exactly how you would expect, you chatted some in the mornings before school and during lunch, but otherwise majority of your time together was after school or on the weekends where you didn’t have to worry about other people bothering the two of you. One of your friends didn’t understand this and continuously asked you if you were going to bring Kenma around or why you weren’t sitting next to him, and when you told her that it was because he needed his space too she always rolled her eyes as you changed the subject. 

This had been happening since the beginning of your relationship and never thought too much of it, until she decided to go talk with Kenma alone. 

*From Kenma’s perspective* 

“Heyyyyyyy Kenma” You recognized the voice, she usually hung out with Y/N so I had to at least be a little nice to her so Y/N doesn’t get mad. 

“Hi” I mumbled not looking up from my game, being nice and caring are two different things. 

“Soooo whatcha doin?” She asks while sitting down right next to me. 

“Playing my game.” “Ohhh what game? It looks really hard, you must be amazing,” 

“It’s animal crossing, I have a five star island,” she was getting annoying and she’d barely said anything. 

“Wow Kenma you’re so talented.” “I guess.” 

“Well I wanted to ask you something?” Crap, she wanted to actually talk and I really don’t want to, before I could respond she was already going off, “so how is your relationship with Y/N going?” 

“Good.” 

“Is it really? I don’t see the two of you hanging out often, like it looks like the two of you aren’t even dating.” 

She's annoying, “We’re dating,” I huff out just wanting to focus on my game but I know that she is going to want to talk more. 

“Why?” 

“What?” I couldn’t help but look up at her to see that she looks serious. 

“I mean come on Kenma, you two don’t work together, I think you should date me instead, I mean I am a lot prettier and I will actually hang out with you and talk to you and cheer for you at all of your games because I care about you so much.” 

“No you don’t,” I respond, she really knows nothing. 

“But Kenma I promise you I do, we would be the best couple ever, we would have so much fun going out together and we look so” 

“No we would not. I like Y/N and we are dating so stop talking.” 

“Kenma listen to me we would be so much better together and she is nothing compared to me.” SHe is practically whining at me and I’m sick of it. 

“I don’t care what you think, you’re annoying” I can’t help but tell her the truth, and I don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s staring at me in shock. 

“Kenma Kozume you are a jerk and I can’t believe that you could say something like that-”

“I can, I don’t like you, I like Y/N so stop wasting your breath and find someone else.” 

She is peeved but I don’t care she is annoying. I get up and leave the bench to go find Y/N so we can walk home together and I can show her how much I’ve done on our shared island. (That he secretly has been working all day on to show you because you only had two stars at the beginning of the day and he just wants you to be proud of him and loves how happy it makes you, like he was really annoyed that he had to stop to tell that girl that he was not interested) 

Tsukishima

 You and Tsukki were the perfect couple, you both complimented each other perfectly, you brought out everything in him that he thought that the public would never see. You were too good to be true and he made a point to constantly remind you. What the world saw was him greeting you by the door, walking you home, and giving you his sweatshirts. What they didn’t see however was how you called him after practice and just let him talk about all of his worries, or how you pack him food for long bus trips because you know that’s the only way that he’ll eat, or how you practically pounce on him when he comes over and give him all of the affection in the world. This is what let your friend decide that she id going to have...an opinion on your relationship. 

*Tsukishima’s perspective*

Morning practice was as brutal as usual this morning, they all voted for sprints this morning and it really couldn’t have been worse. Now it’s over and I’m waiting for Yamaguchi to finish changing so we can walk to class together. It was a little colder out today and I just wanted to get inside. I decided to put my headphones on for a couple of minutes of peace before school, as I grab them out of my bag I see one of Y/N’s friends running towards me. 

“Tsukishima, hey Tsukishima!” She is calling my name, shit. She’s annoying and I really only handle her because she is Y/N’s friend.

Once she gets to me she is out of breath but tries to puff her chest out and smiles at me, “Heyyy so I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me?” 

“What?” Did she really just ask me that? I have a girlfriend and she knows it, she is literally friends with Y/N what the hell. 

“I mean I thought that you would want a girlfriend who actually cares about you ans wants to spend time with you and I would also love to show you a good time,” she says while rubbing her hand up on my chest and I can’t help but brush it off of me. 

“Why would I do that?” Is she really asking me to go out with her? Is she stupid? 

“Because I like you stupid and I would be willing to fufill all of your needs and I’m prettier than Y/N and I would like to do everything for you. Besides you don’t even seem happy with her, like you do all of these things but that’s because she’s spoiled, you deserve better,  duh.” 

“You must be stupid, ugly and stupid.” “What?!?” “Y/N is my girlfriend, not you, do not touch me, do not talk to me and do not assume anything about our relationship. You must be stupid to think that you can come blink at me and expect me to go out with you. I knew you were dumb but that’s rediculous.” She was completely in shock, but that’s fine she doesn’t matter to me. Lucky for me Yamaguchi walked out of the locker room and we left her standing there, staring at me in awe. When I got to the classroom with Y/N I pulled her into a hug and told her that she needed to drop that friend before you got hurt. 

He would actually never ever ever tell you this but you literally make him the happiest person ever and to think that someone would even think about trying to split the two of you up makes him both pissed and super nervous because if he was mean and still got asked things like that what happens to you, his nice and loving girlfriend. He makes sure to be a little closer to you for the next couple weeks because you are his whole world and he just wants you to be by his side. 

Hinata

You and Hinata are literally so cute together and if you don’t know that the two of you are dating then you must be blind, deaf, and stupid. He was constantly shouting your name or is right by your side, HInata is loud but a complete sweet heart and he treats you so well that it makes other girls so jealous. Like no one else gets greeted by their boyfriend with a big hug and goofy smile every single morning. Other girls approach him often but usually you are right by his side. 

Hinata’s POV

After school there is about 5 minutes after I change before someone with a key gets to the gym, so I like to sit on the steps by the gym to be the first one in. Usually Kageyama was there with me but today I was all alone, well until Y/N’s friend came along, she came and sat by me and gave me a really warm smile. 

“Hey Shouyo what’s up?” 

“I’m just waiting for practice to start, you?” 

She sighs and looks at me, “I’m not doing anything, I just wanted to know if you would be interested in hanging out with me?” 

“What were you thinking? Practice starts in fifteen minutes so I guess I could talk with you until then…” 

“No silly, I meant like hang out like go out on a date together,” she looks at me like I should’ve known that but there is no way. 

“Um no… you know that I’m dating Y/N right?” Maybe she forgot or this was a prank, who knows what people are up to. 

“Yeah, I know, but I mean I just thought that I would be more fun to date instead of her, like come on Hinata I play volleyball too, like we could do that together and I would actually be your biggest fan.” 

“I already have a biggest fan and her name is Y/N and she is also my girlfriend so thank you but no thank you.” She’s Y/N’s friend, how you could she say something like that? “NO HINATA I COULD MAKE YOU HAPPY” “I am already happy.” Walking up next to the gym is Tanaka who got a set of keys to the gym and unlocked it for us, he looks at the two of us with a confused look on his face but doesn’t bother asking before he entered the gym. I get up to follow behind him and look back at her one more time, “If you wanted to be friends I would be more than happy to be friends with you, but I am taken and have to go to practice now, so have a good day!” 

Hinata really didn’t understand what happened there, like she meant a date but he was already taken so he kinda just blew it off. When he told you later though you explained it to him and he kinda just laughed but also felt bad for rejecting her like that even though she should have known better than that. 

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu Karasuno #tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x you #kenma #kenma kozume #kenma headcanons #kenma imagine #hinata shouyou #hinata #hinata headcanons #haikyuu hinata #hinata x reader #hinata shouyo x reader #karasuno #nekoma #writing #request

[space-fey]

I am so livid at my teacher right now

Lots and lots of complaining about a privacy-violating and inaccessible exam below the cut.

So, due to current events, some of my classes are online and some are hybrid (one is fully in-person). I’m in my last semester so almost all my classes are upper division and rather specific. Probably in consideration of current events, most teachers are being relatively lax right now: almost all my tests this term are take-home open-book essay exams. I have one lab class that will probably be an online multiple-choice test.

And then there’s the one stupid 100-level lab I never got to before and have to take now even though nearly all the material has been covered in several other classes I’ve had. There’s a lot of busy work, with multiple quizzes and discussions per week, but there’s also a lot of extra credit. And then I just got to the midterm, and it upset and frustrated me so much that after I had to take a moment to just cover my ears and rock. I’ve heard of these awful online proctoring things, but mostly my teachers are too cool (and lazy) to bother.

Instructions include:

not open book (really I think as a rule open book should be allowed, but fair enough)

no notes (see above)

no scratch paper (why? it’s not a math test but still might help some people think, especially with Punnet Squares and inheritance charts)

no restroom breaks (I might be sneaking away during my timed test to...goof off? look something up in the textbook?)

no calculators (again, not a math class but there is some minor math and it might help some people)

no headphones (why?? music might help some people concentrate, or silence. Am I...listening to the answers??)

no hats (.....?)

cannot be in a “public area” (which seems to include any room with another person in it. @great-lakes-selkie​ has their office set up in the same room where I study so I had to go use a lap desk in the non-air conditioned back room)

no background noise (what even counts for this? tv and radio? air conditioner? what if someone had kids at home they had to watch?)

no talking to another person (it’s clearly recording you--which is creepy by the way--so it would know if they were giving you answers or asking what you want for dinner. again, why?)

So you have to add the extension and then start the test, right? Except there are like five more steps.

You have to let it take a picture of you. I looked so angry and grumpy and felt so awkward.

Then you have to let it take a picture of your ID. I had to go get my driver’s license to take a stupid exam for anthropology 121. Because I guess, I might ask someone to take this basic test for me? For some reason?

Then you have to let it take a panorama of your work area (to check for people) and your desk (to check for scrap paper and notes). Featuring me looking very unimpressed. It was probably really jerky, I scowled and may have accidentally stuck my tongue out at the camera, and just turned it upside down to show my lap desk. Not only was it a bit embarrassing--that room has a lot of laundry in it--it feels like something they have no business knowing.

It insists on closing all your browsers, even though it won’t let you switch windows or tabs anyway. I have several open for a research paper and actually switched computers to avoid this.

And, finally, it records your screen. Again, you can’t change windows. You can’t open a calculator or new browser. But it has to watch in case you, a first year college student, have chosen to somehow hack it and cheat on this 100-level exam.

You’re supposed to keep your eyes on the screen and it probably likes you to sit still (because suspicious body language). I did not do these things. I was so uncomfortable at being watched that I kept losing focus and had to read questions again, I did some rocking and played with my necklace, and I kept shifting around.

To make matters WORSE. I’ve had this teacher before, for a higher-level class last spring. Other than insisting on reading her slides verbatim, I thought she was pretty cool. She’s also the teacher working with me to put together a presentation to improve accessibility in a building up for remodeling. Yet this test is not accessible, is a violation of privacy, is paranoid, and is unnecessary. Honestly, who cares if students need to look up a few details? A timed test alone ensures they can’t look up every question, and example problem questions ensure they have to know some concepts. I really don’t ever want to work with her again, but I think I’m going to anyway because this accessibility project is important and if I finish it, it will look good on my CV.

I really want to tell her how upsetting and wrong this is, and I’m not sure if I should wait until the class evaluations or not.

#my life #school #disability #accessibility #ableism #education #October 2 2020

[secretsickficsyo]

Pukeposal

About the time Nathan almost proposed to Elise. This is more from Elise's perspective. I'm not sure how married (badum tss) I am to writing from the perspective of the caretaker (especially her since she's very straight to the point when it comes to her and others' physical comfort) but here goes.

Elise squinted at her boyfriend. Nathan was picking at his food and staring at his wine for the last few minutes. He'd already been to the toilet three times and he was sporting an extra pale complexion.

"Angel?"

He looked up at that and smiled slightly, then broke eye contact again. He used to make fun of her for calling him that, or any other nickname, for that matter. He didn't get the whole English people calling everyone 'love' and 'dear' and 'sweetheart'. She did make sure to refer only to him as 'angel', so it would feel special.

"Nathan," she drew his attention again, "are you alright?"

"Yeah," he immediately said, "I just ate too much, I think."

Elise made a sympathetic, 'aw' sound. "Let's order the check, then."

Nathan nodded and took a long sip of his wine. He stifled a small burp into his fist. "'Scuse me."

She put her hand on his, smiled and scrunched up her nose. "Ew."

He huffed a laugh and signaled to the waiter for the check.

Elise kept her eye on him when they went outside, and while she unchained her scooter and handed Nathan his helmet. She watched him struggle to get the straps ready and huff a sigh of frustration. He had a sheen of sweat coating his face and arms. His cheeks were dusted pink, probably from the wine. He looked like he could barely keep his eyes open and his chin was all wrinkled in that 'I'm forcing my face to do this' kind of way.

"Nathan, are you feeling okay?"

He slipped his jacket on and grabbed the nearest streetlight pole. "I'm fine."

He shut his eyes tight and shivered for a split second. Elise scowled. "Angel, you look like you're going to pass out."

Nathan bent slightly at the waist. "Wait, wait, wait-"

Elise put her own helmet down and quickly removed his. She tried touching his shoulder but he shook her off. "No, no, no." He was almost whining, and bent even further.

"Nathan, please, talk to me. What's wrong?"

He took his jacket off and she grabbed it before he could decide to do anything else with it. He half hugged the streetlight, swallowing profusely. "I'm going to throw up."

Elise's heart dropped. She chained her scooter faster than she ever had before and grabbed Nathan by the shoulders. He tried to shake her off again but he was abnormally weak at the moment. Elise led him to a nearby trash bin. He had a hand on his mouth, a hand on his stomach and was hunched over, blinking away what looked like some fresh tears.

Elise stabilized him over the bin. "Breath, babe. I need you to breath."

Nathan took a deep breath through his nose, then doubled over and grabbed the edges of the bin. Elise rubbed his back, but she stopped when his entire body lurched forward violently. She swore under her breath when she heard the vomit spilling into the plastic bag and the trash. He was bent too far down for her liking so she moved to his side and kept rubbing his back. She watched him carefully, cringing, but making sure he didn't bang his head on the rim. She gave a nasty glare to a couple of staring bystanders and the two left soon after.

"You're okay, baby." She moved thick curls from his sweaty forehead. "Just get it out."

Nathan burped up another torrent and then finally stopped. Elise took hold of his shoulders again and wiped his face with her hand without even thinking. She immediately regretted doing that when she felt the slimey texture of the liquidy mix. She put her arm around Nathan's shoulders and led him to the closest bench she could spot. It had another bin next to it so even if he wasn't done they wouldn't have to travel far. Nathan bent again with his head between his knees. "I-" he burped, "I don't feel goo-"

He rolled with a heave and vomited a small amount of thick, chunky sick.

Elise rubbed his back with her clean hand. "You're okay, baby." She put his jacket by her. "We'll get you home, right?"

He nodded and sniffed and spat into the mess. "I can't get on the scooter." He whined. "I can't breath."

Elise kissed his wet temple and wiped her mouth on her shoulder out of his sight. "I'll get a cab for us." She unlocked her phone. "And I'll come get my scooter once you're in bed."

Nathan nodded again, then spat again, then gagged again. He croaked a groan and rubbed his stomach. "We'll have to pay extra if I puke in it, though."

"That's what windows are for, love. "

He huffed and put his head on her shoulder. "I love you. Sorry for being gross."

She kissed the top of his head. "You can't ever gross me out."

Thankfully, Nathan fell asleep on the ride home. She covered his shaking shoulders with his jacket and pet his hair. The driver looked at them from the rearview mirror. "Is he alright?"

"Yeah," she said, "he's just not feeling well."

The driver half smiled at her. "Hope he gets better."

Elise smiled back. "Thanks."

The driver kindly waited for her to wake Nathan up and help him stumble out of the cab. Elise thanked him and dragged Nathan to the building. They had a close call in the elevator where Nathan had to swallow back some sick and hold some in his hands, but they got into their flat just fine. Nathan immediately bent over the kitchen sink and Elise had never been happier to have washed the dishes ahead of time. She washed her hands and tossed his jacket on a chair.

"Elise." Nathan whined when she came back. "I'mb soring, id was zuppozed tob ee perfegt."

She shushed him and wiped his face with a wet washcloth. "Do you think you're done?"

He nodded and turned the faucet on to wash away whatever atrocities came out of him.

She lead him to the bedroom, where she helped him change into a fresh tshirt and some new boxers. He collapsed into bed and Elise turned on the ceiling fan. She left a glass of water with a note on the nightstand at his side of the bed and went out to get her scooter.

Upon deciding to make the five story descent down the stairs, Elise took this time to check her messages. Her mom sent photos of her little sister and Nathan's sister asked how dinner went. Nothing too urgent. She did update Olive that Nathan wasn't well but didn't elaborate. He'd be embarrassed.

She also decided to turn the trip back to the restaurant into a late evening walk. She plugged her headphones in, leaving one earbud out, for safety.

When Elise got back to the restaurant the hostess was outside, clearly not very happy to see her. Elise scanned the crime scene and realized the sick that should have been by the bench was gone. Someone from the restaurant must have cleaned it up. That sucks.

"Good evening." The hostess said coldly.

Elise smiled sweetly at her, but the way her brows arched made her look like she was up to some shit. "Yes, a swell one, even!"

She unchained her scooter and took off pretty fast after that but she was grateful to avoid confrontation.

Nathan was still out cold when she got back to the flat. She took the quickest of showers and slipped into fresh pajamas. She checked on Nathan one last time before scheduling a doctor's appointment for the next day at noon and switched the telly on, volumelow enough to hear the next door neighbor singing to his baby. Thankfully, it was the middle of October, which means as many horror movies as her twisted little heart could handle. Elise was about to set up on the couch, fluffy blanket and all, when she decided to take Nathan's jacket to the wash since it was all sweaty and whatnot. She was emptying the pockets when she found a green velvet box. Well, shit.

Her heart sank as she fought the urge to crack it open. She put everything back in the jack and hung it on their coat hanger in the entrance. Without thinking twice she just sat on the couch and cuddled deep into the fluff of her blanket. Holy. Fucking. Hell. Was she crying? When did she start crying? She was also half convinced that she might have been having a heart attack. She leaned back on the couch and watched the screen with a slightly mortified look. Was he going to propose? Was he sick from the nerves? Was he going to ask her in a public place? Was she going to say yes? Is he still going to ask her?

"Hey," Elise jumped at the croak.

"Hey!" She stood instantly. "How are you? Any better?"

"A little." He looked deflated, like someone vacuumed his insides. "Are you crying?"

Elise wiped her face frantically. "Yeah, Hatchiku was playing earlier. Still not over it."

Nathan smiled. "He was good boy."

"And a patient one." She interrupted. "Come, sit."

He joined her and cringed when he saw what was on. "Babe, I'm not well enough to watch Texas Chainsaw. I WILL puke on you."

#EliseKetcherOC #NathanWagnerOC #emeto #sickfic

[youarejesting]

BTS Seoul mates: Dream couple.5

[MASTERLIST]

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Rating: A little angst

Warning: None

Summary: You saw him every night in your dreams since you were a child. He was funny, a great dancer, really close with his friends. The only problem was you couldn’t see his face. In dreams, every face you see is one you have seen in real life, so you knew you had never met him. That is until your friend shows you her favourite band.

You had finally done it. Working hard every night and day trying to earn money and finish your degree as quickly as possible. Doubling your course workload, taking up extra shifts at the cafe and working your butt off on the dance floor every night. Reminding yourself that this was what Hoseok must have gone through as a trainee. If your love could do it so could you. And you did. It had taken two and a half months but you were ready to go.

Checking your carry on bag for your headphones for the flight. You hoped you could sleep the flight away. This wasn’t the case as a newborn three aisles ahead was crying. The parents looked exhausted. “Excuse me?”

“We are sorry if we are bothering you, we are really trying?” they said looking very upset.

“No I was, wondering if you would like a break, you both look really tired and I can sit in this empty spot and try to put the baby to sleep if that’s not weird of course” “At this point we are desperate,” the mother said gently handing over the baby, you looked down at the baby in your arms and began humming trying to cause a distraction. The baby settled from your constant gaze their eyes began to droop and close. The parents had both fallen asleep and the attendant brought you some complimentary juice.

Alison and Kwang-sun were visiting relatives in South Korea and were thankful for the help with their boy Cheol. The landing was smooth and you were dying to get off the plane feeling claustrophobic from the number of people in one cabin. Stepping off the plane and passing through the gate you saw a group of people with signs. 

You were told someone from bighit would collect you, you had been in contact with the company, asking Hoseok for the number many weeks ago. A man in a suit was there holding a sign with your name on it. It was spelt wrong, it didn’t seem too easy to mess up, granted they had all the right letters just two out of order.

Your things had been shipped over a few weeks prior and had arrived at ‘The Hill’. Rolling your suitcase behind you approached the man, he introduced himself, showing his ID with Bighit and you showed yours. “Right this way ma’am”

“Of course” “As you know the boys are in America at the moment shooting the new music video, and won’t be back until March, which means you have time to attend your new university and get settled before they come back.

Taking the opportunity to do just that you moved into the Soulmate apartment and set up a spare room you decorated and started attending your classes.

Hoseok was working hard the boys were about to drop their new album and were shooting their music video in America. He hadn’t spoken with her in days. With all the preparation and press for the upcoming album, there was no time to so much as sit, let alone match another time zone for an appropriate time to call his soulmate. 

March came around and Hoseok was in South Korea once more for their comeback in Dongchon-dong on SBS Inkigayo. After that, the boys would be free to relax from interviews and the public whilst still practising gruelling hours until mid-April, when they would go on tour. The Bangtan boys and their soulmates were thrilled to be heading home. Hoseok walked straight into his room and took a nap.

The girls, however, had a sneaking suspicion someone was in their house. They brushed off as there were no obvious signs that anyone had been there except a few dishes. Which they couldn’t guarantee Iris hadn’t used them before they left. It wasn’t until that night that the girls ran into the boy’s apartment spooked.

“What’s going on?”  “Is it a spider?” Jungkook joked earning a slap on the shoulder from Beau who seemed angry from the suggestion. “No you idiot, there is someone in our house?” they said “we heard moving around.”

The boys all looked at one another Hoseok was too tired to deal with strangers trying to take a sneak peeks of their lives.  “You probably just heard something else, the pipes settling or the heating kicking in” Namjoon being ever rational and trying to calm down his friend’s soulmates. “No, we heard footsteps movement in one of the empty room”

“Fine we will go look and if it isn’t you can make dinner?”

You heard footsteps running from the apartment and the front door shut, your heart raced. Someone had been in the apartment with you and you hoped it was the other soulmates and not like a burglar. Looking for a weapon you lifted your textbook and nodded it would definitely cause some damage it had six authors and was a hardcover. 

Standing behind the door textbook raised above your head you waited silently the sound of your heartbeat and breathing seemed to become deafeningly loud. You heard the front door open and a collective number of footsteps travelling down the hall opening doors. You heard whispering but couldn’t make it out.

“Where did you hear this spooky noise?” Seokjin tried to break the tension “That bedroom?” Aster pointed and the door swung open. Seokjin walked in just past the door, the bed wasn’t made. As he walked in deeper starting to think that perhaps someone really had been there. Yet he came up empty. It was probably one of the girls or any of the boys who liked to drink had stumbled into the wrong room and disturbed the sheets.  “There is no one in he-”

“There is no one in heeEEEEEEEEEEEE!” He had turned midsentence and the two of you screamed in unison and you threw the book clipping his shoulder and he fell to the floor clutching his heart. “I just had a heart attack”

“Oh my gosh, Seokjin, I am so sorry, I thought you were a murderer or something?” You spoke leaning down to help him noticing the group looking alarmed from the doorway.

“Imogen!” Hoseok pushed past the others until he engulfed you in a hug. He pulled back only for a moment before crashing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Seokjin frowned pulling himself up off the floor. “We should go they will be busy for a while”

If you want to join the tags just send an ask:@latina-nerd​

#bangtan #bangtan boys #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts x reader #bts sm au #bts x soulmate reader #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts smut #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader fluff #hoseok x reader smut #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jhope x reader smut #jhope x reader fluff #jhope #jhoooooooooooooooope #soulmate au #bts soulmate au

[beautiful-de4mity]

[Alice Nine Fanfiction] ASYLUM (Chapter 2)

Hiroto feels a faint twinge in his chest as he notices the gleam of admiration for the doctor named Amano in Shou’s beautiful eyes. He says nothing more and lets Shou back on scrutinizing the notebooks and journals he has been reading after promising Hiroto to have lunch together. Shou looks so excited despite being exhausted, thought Hiroto, surely Shou really admires that Amano guy.

Chapter 02 [Vulnerable]

Author: beautiful-de4mity

Fandom: Alice Nine

A/n: I’m happy to be this productive and excited on writing again! I actually overdid the research on this theme and one of my readers told me not to put too detailed things since this is only a piece of fanfiction 😂 in the next chapters, I’m trying to focus more on the relationships between characters. Ganbarimasu!

Inspired song: ASYLUM from PLANET NINE Album

Disclaimer: Can we all agree that Alice Nine’s bonds are so wonderful we can literally ship every member with anyone? /I’m talking trash lol

The wall clock in his office points at ‘one’ in the morning but Amano Tora is still enjoying the online game The Last of Us, which he plays with some friends through his customized PC. It was a tiring day in fact as the hospital research team was running a series of tests and monitoring on Saga and the poor boy doesn’t seem to be in a good condition. Saga was being a handful today; kept fighting back and trying to escape from the running procedures. Finally, they had to completely sedate Saga and put him to sleep forcefully after his attempt to strangle one of the doctors. Tora exhales instinctively as the scene flashes through his mind, distracting his focus from the game until his friends’ panic yelp are heard through the headphones.

“Warui, warui,” Tora picks back his focus on the game.

Tora finishes the game thirty minutes later, placing the headphones on the keyboard and taking off his glasses. The young doctor leans back on the chair, massaging the bridge of his nose and exhales for the umpteenth time. The corner of his eye catches Saga’s assessment chart, which is still empty since this afternoon since everything went off plan. Tora somewhat feels relieved for Ohara Shou, the psychology student he was involved in researching Saga’s case, reported that he couldn’t come because of a group assignment today. Tora doesn’t want to scare Shou by seeing Saga went berserk and change his mind. Tora is really fond of Shou’s research proposal, it is very potential and promising.

The hospital corridor in the psychiatric ward is deserted, of course, it is almost dawn. Only a few people from the night shift remaining, chatting in the administration section sipping coffee. Tora smiles when several nurses greet him and giggle, making him shake his head as he enters the toilet. It is a public secret that Amano Tora becomes the idol of the female staffs in the psychiatric ward, even staffs from other departments throughout this hospital know him. Even so, Tora is not interested in dating anyone at all. Currently, work and games are two aspects of his life that he can’t abandon.

Tora pauses for a moment at the turn of the corridor upon returning from the toilet, staring at the door of Saga’s room several meters ahead where the young man is still sleeping under the anesthetic effect. Tora’s wondering if he should check on the poor boy’s condition even though he could just go to the monitor room to look through the CCTV. The young doctor finally walks over to Saga’s room and peeks through the glass window. Tora’s forehead frowned when he finds out Saga is writhing restlessly on his bed as if he is struggling to escape from something. Was he tied up earlier? Tora hurriedly pasts his ID to unlock the door, he then darts next to Saga’s bed and more surprised to find Saga’s shaking drenched in sweat. The young man seemed to be trying hard to fight something in his sleep but could not scream for someone to wake him up.

“Saga,” Tora kneels beside the bed and tries to wake his patient. “Saga, are you okay?” as slowly as possible, Tora shakes Saga’s body so that he won’t be startled or terrified.

Saga is trembling badly that Tora feels the need to grab onto Saga’s thin shoulders to prevent him from falling off the bed. Saga looks like he is trying to fight something terrible in his sleep, Tora can see clearly the expression of fear even though Saga’s eyes are closed. Saga clenches his jaws tightly, holding back the screams while both of his hands groping for the air almost punch Tora’s face. Just when Tora decides to force Saga to wake up, both of Saga’s eyelids opened. In the dark. Tora catch the glint of tears pooling down his dark irises. With a broken breath, Saga jolts up and immediately grabs Tora’s neck, hugging him very tightly as if he intends to break the young doctor’s neck. Tora tries not to make any sudden movements that can trigger Saga to panic even though his neck starts to ache.

Cautiously, Tora got up from his kneeling position and sits on the edge of Saga’s bed while Saga still clinging onto him like a Koala. Tora can feel Saga’s ferocious heartbeat, so fast that it might explode at any moment even though his body gradually stops shaking while his white clothes are soaked with sweat.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Tora pats Saga on the shoulder awkwardly.

Saga buries his face in Tora’s shoulder more deeply, not making a sound.

“You had a nightmare?” asks Tora, followed by a small nod as the answer.

The young doctor fixes his position so that Saga can calm himself faster, while Saga himself feels a little confused about his own reaction: clinging on Tora as if Tora is a magnetic field. Come to think of it since the beginning of his arrival at this hospital’s psychiatric ward, Amano Tora is the only person who makes him feel safe and Saga doesn’t mind at all having any kind of contact with him. Even at this moment, Saga can clearly smell the faint scent of Tora’s perfume mixed with trail of tobacco, oddly helps him to calm down.

“I’ll leave when you can sleep again,” Tora breaks the silence when the sound of their breaths is the only sound heard in the room a few moments later.

Saga quickly shakes his head, gripping the front of Tora’s shirt to indicate the young doctor not to leave him. The response makes Tora’s brows furrowed in surprise. Indeed, all this time Saga has always shown a rather sweet, cooperative-good boy attitude to him, but he does not expect Saga to be this vulnerable with him when Saga usually guarded and distance himself from people. Tora takes notes carefully in his mind about Saga’s current behavior to be written later on the assessment chart he left on his desk.

“Okay, I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” again, Tora strokes Saga on the shoulder awkwardly.

For the first time in three months under his specialist care, Saga shows signs that he is starting to trust Tora. If Saga could tell Tora directly about how the young doctor make him feel safe and at ease whenever Tora is around, maybe Tora wouldn’t have been wondering this much. Saga manages to go back to sleep around three a.m. in the morning. Tora’s body feels so beaten up and he almost gives up temptation to fall asleep beside Saga. But he can’t let people find him sleeping while having his patient on his arms like that afterall.

***

Ogata Hiroto, a petite-built art student with flaming blonde hair, is pacing back and forth with a confused look of a typically lost child in the psychology faculty library building in his search for Shou. For several days, he had gone back and forth to the psychology faculty to find his senior, but the results were always to no avail. Shou didn’t reply to his LINE, didn’t update his YouTube channel, and didn’t update his Instagram for three days in a row, Hiroto was worried. Hiroto’s gaze finds a flash of Shou’s somewhat disheveled brunette hair on the desk next to “Journal Publications” section shelves, appearing star-like sparkling effect in the cute young man’s eyes.

“Shou yaaaaaan!” Hiroto’s excited voice and the sight of him running happily towards Shou, drawing all of the library visitors’ attention. “Ah, sorry, sorry,” Hiroto gives a shy bow as people stare at him with blasphemous looks.

Shou looks up from his notebook and journal print outs that are scattered on the table, he smiles sweetly at Hiroto. Shou’s face is slightly pale with trace of dark circles under his eyes, and overall he looks unusually scruffy. Hiroto is anxious and astonished as he sits next to Shou.

“Shou yan, are you okay? Shou yan sick or something?“ Hiroto’s eyebrows knitted, observing Shou’s unusual appearance from head to toe.

"No, I’m just having bunch of assignments,” Shou replies softly, putting down the pen he is still holding and now focusing on Hiroto completely. “What brings you here?”

Hiroto pouts, “I’ve been looking for you for the past three days, you know! Shou yan didn’t reply to my LINE, didn’t post anything on SNS even though usually you upload something regularly,” the cute young man sulks.

Shou ruffles Hiroto’s blonde hair exasperatedly, “Sorry, I’m really busy lately because the midterm exam right around the corner and Amano sensei has just invited me to join his research team,” explains the beautiful-eyed young man, his face flushes with joy when he mentioned ‘Amano sensei’.

“Who is Amano sensei?” noticing the unusual glow in Shou’s face makes Hiroto feel uneasy.

“Oh, him,” Shou’s face which was slightly pale now beamed. “He’s a neuropsychiatric at the private central hospital in Shibuya. When I was a freshman, the faculty invited him to be one of the speakers and since then I have been interested in doing research in neuropsychiatry. A few days ago I sent my research proposal on mutism and asked him to be the instrument validator. Surprisingly, he then recruited me to the hospital research team that currently is handling a case of mutism,“ Shou explains enthusiastically.

Hiroto feels a faint twinge in his chest as he notices the gleam of admiration for the doctor named Amano in Shou’s beautiful eyes. He says nothing more and lets Shou back on scrutinizing the notebooks and journals he has been reading after promising Hiroto to have lunch together. Shou looks so excited despite being exhausted, thought Hiroto, surely Shou really admires that Amano guy. Without Shou noticing, Hiroto is now watching him closely with his chin rests on his hand. Hiroto plays the memory where they first met inside his head. Shou was his two-year-older senior in high school. Shou is popular, student’s committee president, and also worked as a model for several local magazines. He’s always been so charming and stylish plus having brilliant personality that no one can resist.

It could be said that Shou saved Hiroto’s high school life. Being so shy, Hiroto found it difficult to make friends with other people. He always ate lunch alone in the school grounds until Shou accidentally found him and they have always had lunch together since then. Shou even helped Hiroto joining the photography club because Hiroto was too shy to do it himself and encouraged him to be the student committee. Shou has a huge role in shaping Hiroto’s current personality and Hiroto has always clung to Shou like a stray puppy.

Seeing Shou being highly motivated because of someone else like this, somehow brings up a feeling of reluctance even though Shou’s attitude hasn’t changed towards him at all. Hiroto lets out a sigh.

#alice nine #アリス九號. #alice 9 #alice9 #fanfiction #alice nine fanfiction #A9 #ASYLUM #shou #tora #saga #hiroto #tora x saga #shou x pon #ToSa #ShouPon #boys love

[goodnightallwhites]

Welcome to the Blackworth Family By BlackingPacking

Welcome to the Blackworth Family 

By BlackingPacking 

Submitted: December 9, 2019 Updated: December 10, 2019 

Blackworth Home is one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the country. A boarding school where the students are a family. 

That's not why Ashley went there though. She went there because She's an eager young snowbunny who needs to go to the only school that lets her have all the big black cock she could ever want. 

A discord request. 

Provided by Hentai Foundry.

Chapter 1 - I go to a Blacked school 2 

Chapter 2 - I watch Dorothy get Blacked 8 

1 - I go to a Blacked school 

I spent most of my time at home in my room, behind the tall, artificial wood door that read ‘ASHLEY’ in big letters. The room wasn’t much. It was square with light blue walls, a bed right opposite from the door with a shelf on its left and a chair on its right, and my desk for homework in the corner. Nothing much fun. 

It was just another feature of my family’s plain, boring little suburban home, with a boring life forced onto me. 

I tried to have my fun of course. I kept in touch with as many friends as possible, spent plenty of time online, and even got a boyfriend. My best friend in the world was Dorothy, a girl I loved so much, most people thought we were lesbians. Not that we didn’t have our fun, but I still love dick. Well, at least as a concept. My boyfriend had a 3 inch little shrimp dick, complete with a hentai collection and getting turned on by the Human Centipede. Why I stayed with him I didn’t know. I didn’t even spend much time with him, and he wasn’t my type. What I really needed was someone more... rebellious. I was a bit of a troublemaker. I didn’t behave for teachers or parents and I skipped school often. I’d even watch porn. People said I looked like Riley Reid, but with bigger tits. I even experimented with a few drugs and got all slutty at parties, but that was a secret for only Dorothy and me. 

Dorothy was even more of a slut than I was, despite her smaller tits. I sure loves the occasional sexytime with her. A shame, though, that her ditching school and porn viewing was less safe than mine. She got caught, bad. Now she was at some boarding school, year round. It sounded awful. 

That’s what I thought, at least. 

But then, in the mail one day, I got a letter from her. Well, technically it was a few days late, since neither of my parents bother to get the mail. Still, I was surprised to get the formal letter, reading 

BLACKWORTH HOME FOR TROUBLED STUDENTS 

I opened the letter. To my shock, the first thing I saw inside were... polaroid pictures? 

Yeah, about half a dozen polaroid pictures, all with Dorothy’s tight holes by some of the biggest dicks I’ve ever seen. All the guys were black, with freakishly huge cocks. I thought cocks like that only existed in porn, and that my boyfriend’s penis was just average. But nope, those black cocks were real. Plenty looked way bigger than in porn too. 

I just had to read what she actually sent. The letter read: 

Dear Ashley, 

I’ve missed you here! I’m sorry that I haven’t been writing or texting or calling but it’s been so much fun here! I’ve totally converted to big black cock! And I want you to too. I hope you aren’t dating that 

little loser anymore but if you are you’d better stop RIGHT NOW because I’m about to change your life. 

As a fellow white girl you should really consider what nature intended...let me tell you about how great it is to be a true snowbunny. A snowbunny can help save other white girls from disappointing relationships with white guys, nature truly intended for black men to rule over us. White boys have no place here in the ideal world us girls must forge a path and share our knowledge with other girls and together we can all worship and achieve happiness with our black masters,your body should help breed more black men we need to get rid of gross white boys together. When they are all gone the world will be perfect and we can all feast on black cock. 

I’ve filled out an application for you, so don’t worry about having to bother. You deserve this, I know I did. 

XOXO, 

Dorothy 

Attached to it was an acceptance letter from Blackworth Home. 

I didn’t tell my parents about the letter or the pictures, but I was eager as fuck to tell them about the whole boarding school thing. It seemed like a sort of fantasy, going to a school like that. I fucking hated the idea of being sent a way to a boarding school that wasn’t magical, but I think this one just damn may well have been. 

My parents were thrilled at the idea. The school had great student reviews, and was said to promote a healthy racial environment. I smiled when I heard that, since I knew exactly what that meant. My parents saw it as a good thing too, since my school had a bit of a racism problem. Thankfully, the problem kids weren’t anybody I knew. 

People I know! I forgot all about my boyfriend! Little shrimp dick was small enough to always slip out of my pussy, so he totally slipped my mind too. That day was the last time I ever spoke to him, texting him simply 

I’m sorry, this isn’t working. 

I didn’t need to see him at school because I didn’t go there anymore. I worked hard to talk to the Blackworth admissions team, and managed to get myself an ASAP entry to the school. In just a few weeks, I would be boarding a train and heading to the academy. No boyfriend, no old school, no judgement. And Dorothy too! 

I had never felt so liberated. And I haven’t even left yet! 

The arrangement was that I arrive a few weeks before Winter break, and spend exam time catching up on the material for next semester. I ordered all my books ahead of time, and even began studying. I wanted to spend my time at school doing what Dorothy sent me right away, and I wasn’t going to let a bit of homework get in the way of me sitting on a massive, black cock like she told me filled the school. 

With her letters as a guide, I went shopping too. All brand new clothes that were mostly ripped, low-cut, or sluttier than anything I’d ever worn before. I loved the school uniform too. 

On the ride there, I wore a simple grey hoodie and black leggings on the train, with my black hair tied back. I had never ridden on a train before, but this wouldn’t be the last train run with where I was going. That thought made me grin as a pulled my big suitcase and full backpack into the corner I would ride in. I watched the scenery go by in a big, cushioned chair hidden in the corner. I got it wet through my leggings, I was just so horny. So ready for this. 

I pulled up some porn on my phone, put my headphones in, and listened to the star’s sweet voice narrate how she met up with her tall, muscular, black pool boy, and they fucked like there was no tomorrow. I stealthily took my arm out of my hoodie’s sleeve and snuck it down to my crotch, where I fingered my soaking pussy right there, on the public train. 

Soon, I was there. I got a few looks with how soaking wet the insides of my leggings were, and when I took the headphones out I think the sound kept playing for half a second, but I didn’t even care. I wasn’t ever going to see these people again, now that I was at my new home. Blackworth. 

It was a huge campus, in the middle of the woods on the border of the Carolinas where a massive old slave plantation used to be, before the slaves revolted in the 1830’s. Now it had a few massive, brick and stone buildings, all square, tall, and imposing. I walked in, got my picture taken, and got a photo ID with a room number- 1573. Building one, floor 5, room 73. Right where Dorothy told me her room was. 

I went up there on the old elevator. It felt like the stairs would be quicker, this thing was so old. There were drawings carved into the wooden walls. Most were “girl x boy” and “name was here”, but somewhere hotter. One was a phone number, saying ‘white girls text me’, another was a room number for the boys dorm that just said ‘orgy?’. One was a tiny dick carved next to a huge one saying ‘white vs black’. Fun. The ride took so long that I almost fingered myself right there. The floor was a little sticky, so it wouldn’t be the first time I thought. Gross, but kinda hot. 

The door opened, and there waiting for me was my best friend. 

“Ashley!” Dorothy smiled, jumping up to give me a huge hug. I was shocked to see how she was dressed. She had a peach yellow crop top on that barely went below her nipples (and her tits weren’t even that big!), and hot pink and black short shorts that where basically a small rectangle around her hips. It left nothing to the imagination, and I liked it. 

“Dorothy! You look so good!” I said, hugging her back, squeezing against her perky little tits. 

“Ow-ow!” she mutters, pulling away. 

“What is it?” I ask 

“Nothing,” she grins, “It’s just that I got a tattoo the other day and it’s still kinda sore.” 

“A tattoo? Didn’t you used to say you never wanted to get a tattoo?” 

“Well, that was before I became a snowbunny, silly. Wanna see it?” 

“Sure,” I said. She turned around, pulling up the back of her shirt to show on her back, in big, curly letters, 

SNOW - BUNNY with a little heart in the middle. 

“Like it?” my brown-haired best friend asked. 

“I love it! How do you get a tattoo in a place like this?” 

“This isn’t some stuffy old normal boarding school, you know,” she started walking down the hall, “We’ve got a tattoo parlor, a movie theater, an sex toy store, a hair salon- it’s so great. You’ll love it.” 

As I walked behind her, I noticed she had another tattoo on her thigh. A little queen of spades. It wasn’t there in the polaroids she sent. 

“So how come you can’t use your phone?” 

“Oh- that’s just because of the school’s network. We can use them in class even, but it’s really hard to communicate with people outside of campus without the computers, and I don’t much like email. Sorry about that.” 

“No problem,” I said. Then, in front of us, I saw a tall, skinny white boy turn the corner a walk into a room, looking at Dorothy with pervy eyes. “Wait-” I asked her, “Isn’t this the girl’s dorm?” 

“No, no, this is the white dorm- white boys got really uncomfortable and black guys got really weirded out by having to live in the same dorms, so they changed it. It’s kinda weird, with all these tiny white guys around, but they’re harmless. Flash your tits once a week or so and they’ll do literally anything for you. Besides, you can always just live in the black dorm if you find a guy you like,” she grinned and nudged me in the shoulder, “But I get first dibs at orgies- remember that.” 

“How often are orgies?” I asked. 

“All the time. Ah, here’s our room,” she unlocked the door and pushed it open, showing me our place. It had brown and blue walls with a wooden bunk bed, carved desks for both of us, and a fluffy carpet that Dorothy bought. I recognized it. 

“Is this-” 

“Where the polaroids were taken?” she grinned, “Yeah. I don’t like orgies on the carpet, it’s messy- they cum a lot. The beds are good though, the white boys clean it up.” 

“They do that for you?” 

“For us. If they work really hard, tell ‘em about the fun you’ve had with black guys. The white boys love it.” 

“Really? They’re always so insecure about black guys-” 

“At our old school? I know, Ash, but here they learn fast. Besides, there’s no pretense anymore about them not having little dicks.” 

I laughed. “Haha! So is that, like, more than just a rumor here?” 

She laughed too, “Yeah, it is! They’ve done all sorts of studies on it. We learned about it in Anatomy class. Ask Mrs. McMeekin about it.” 

Just my luck, Mrs. McMeekin, our grade’s science teacher, was my first tutor. Thankfully, I had everything ready from my old school. The curriculum I wasn’t caught up with wasn’t hard to get down, so I got to talk with Mrs. McMeekin. I didn’t like talking to teachers much, but I loved talking to the ones here. 

“So- um, Dorothy told me to ask you about white boys being- um-” 

“Small?” she asked, smiling. She was a beautiful woman with long, brown hair, a long, thin face, and some round but a little aged boobs. In between them was a Queen of Spades necklace. 

“Y-yeah.” I said, looking away from her cleavage, down at her feet. She had a QoS tattoo on her ankle too. Dayum. 

She smiled again. “No need to feel weird. I know Dorothy- one of the most enthusiastic little snowbunnies I’ve ever taught. And yes, white boys are uniquely sexually unsatisfying for us modern women,” she explained. 

“How?” I asked, more confident. 

“It’s about how the nerves work, you see. White males are used to growing up comfortably, as such, evolution has made them lose their defense mechanisms. When they feel something brush up against their penis, it’s usually intentional, so they cum very fast, just getting the sex over with once the stimulation gets to them. Black males come from a more dangerous life- in Africa for thousands of years, then in slavery, they had to adapt to only use their valuable seed when absolutely nescecary. So they are genetically predisposed to needing a long, long time of intense sexual stimulation to achieve ejaculation.” 

“Wow- that makes so much sense!” 

“Well, it’s just my job,” she smiled with happy blue eyes. 

“So- you said you know Dorothy? Has she been a good student?” 

“Well, she’s a lot better at English and History than science, but she’s pretty good, when she’s not with Jason,” she shook her head. Her boobs jiggled. 

“Jason?” I asked. 

“Jason Blackwolf. His family’s been going to this school for generations. You’ll probably know him soon- he’s a year older than you, but he’s huge. Tall, muscled. Big- nnf” she poked her cheek with her tongue and made a grabbing motion at her crotch like she was holding a huge bulge.” 

“And Dorothy- and him?” 

“Well, I know she’s obsessed with him. Really goes into the whole ‘master’ thing with him.” 

“Uh- Master?” 

“Oh! Did you not read the school’s webpage? The heads of houses are called the house Mistress and Master, with some houses preferring Mother and Father, usually a black man and white girl.” I nodded along, “Since that tradition started, girls have been called sisters, black guys masters, and white boys brothers. It fits the whole family thing we try to make this school. It’s called a house, not an academy, for just that reason.” 

“Oh, cool. So I’m Sister Ashley, and she’s Sister Dorothy?��� 

“Yup. And No problem. I don’t blame you for reading everything this school gives you. I didn’t when I was your age, and I’m doing just fine.” 

I smiled. She sure was. Then I looked at my watch. “I- uh, have a meeting with Mr. Bates in like five minutes, so I have to go- but thank you for helping me, Miss McMeekin!” I walked off. 

“It’s Mrs!” she told me, flashing a ring with another smile. “And yes, he’s white. If you need any more help, I’ll be here.” 

2 - I watch Dorothy get Blacked 

Wow. What a first meeting. 

Sadly, none of the other teachers were that fun. They had a diverse faculty, both in sex and race, which was definitely a plus, but I guess it was a school first and foremost. It wasn’t a waste of time though, since I managed to get to know the layout of the school. 

When I went back to the dorm room, I was ready for the fun night Dorothy had promised she had every night. 

Instead, I found her walking around the white student’s common room. “Where is it? Where is it?” She kept asking. 

“What is it?” I walked up to her. 

“I wanna go introduce you to Jason, my favorite black master! But I can’t find the key card to the boy’s dorm he gave me, and I don’t wanna wait to be let in like some horny freshman girl! Help me look!” 

Looking under the couch at my feet, I saw a boy- a white boy! A small guy, looking about my age but barely masculine, with dark brown hair and a smooth face. 

“Uh- who is that?” I asked. 

“Oh- that’s Bill- or, Bob, whatever. He’s a friend of mine! He does my homework. He’s helping me look.” 

“Oh,” I got down to his level. “Hey. I’m Ashely. Nice to meet you.” 

“Hi-” He got up to shake my head, blushing as I looked into his eyes. “Everyone just calls me BP.” 

“Ok, uh, BP. Why do you do Dorothy’s homework? She’s smart. Hell, she even did my homework.” 

“Um- she spends her time outside of class with her black friends. Usually Jason. So I do it for her.” 

“Really? Nice.” 

“Found it!” Dorothy lifted the card up, now come on, I wanna see Jason!” 

I followed her, and BP walked with us to get to his dorm. 

“So,” I asked BP, “Could you do my homework too? Because I’m kinda ass at the things Dorothy’s good at.” 

He nodded. “Of course.” 

“And- could you tutor me too? I’m kinda scared, going to a private boarding school, and you seem smart enough.” 

“R-really?” he asked, looking at me with wide eyes. He’s just a little shorter than me. “T-that’d be nice. Are you going home for Christmas? I’m gonna stay here.” 

“I think I wanna stay here,” I smiled, “What about you, Dorothy?” I asked. 

“Of course I wanna spend Christmas here! Hell, I wanna spend summer here to. You’ll see soon.” We kept walking. “And you better not be flirting with my friend, BP. Trust me, Ash, his dick’s like this big,” she held up her pinky, “Don’t even bother.” 

He turned bright red. “I-I wasn’t.” 

I elbowed him. “Hey, I know. Don’t feel bad. I’m gonna see Jason anyway soon, you know that.” 

He nodded. “Trust me, you’re gonna like him. He’s-” he gulped, “Really big. And you’ll get that big bed all to yourself- the black guys get a whole room with a queen size bed.” 

“Nice,” I said, smiling. 

Dorothy opened the double doors to the boy’s dorm, then going to the black guy’s half. She made sure we quickly closed the door behind us so no freshman girls could get in. That made them mad. 

The black boy’s hallway was as beautiful as the rest of the school. It was brown wood with green carpet and big natural light pouring in with yellow evening light. In the middle of the hallway stood a huge guy, over six feet tall with perfect muscles through his Blackworth fleece and jeans. He looked like a bit of a rebel, with a fade cut with the top left messy. He had diamond stud earrings and a silver chain in his pocket. On his feet were expensive brand sneakers. He smirked possessively. 

“Ayo Dorothy!” he smiled, raising his arm. She ran up and hugged him tightly. 

“Ashley,” she said, “this is Master Jason. We’re gonna have fun tonight, aren’t we babe?” she looked up at him. 

“You know it bitch,” he smiled. “Nice to meetcha Ashley,” he shook my hand. Damn, it was so big and warm. I could already see a bulge in his pants. I wondered how big and warm that was. “Sup BP?” he fistbumped BP too. They clearly knew each other. And damn, Jason’ hand dwarfed the white boy’s. 

I noticed that plenty of white girls were kissing black guys, or getting their asses groped. I even saw some tits being sucked and dicks being choked on. Everyone walked past like it was nothing. It looked like Jason and Dorothy would join them very soon. 

“I’m sorry for not being able to come last night! I had to get the dorm ready for Ashley.” 

“It’s fine, babe. You just gotta make up for it when I cum tonight,” he said. She smiled at his little joke. 

BP walked back and sat on a bench, making himself small while I watched Dorothy feel up Jason. 

“So, how’s your first day been?” he asked me as Dorothy helped him take off his button down uniform shirt and fleece. She opened his room’s door and tossed them in. 

“Um, pretty good. I talked to some of the teachers, I really like what this school’s about. I- um- haven’t been blacked for real yet, but as soon as Dorothy introduced me to it, I broke up with my loser white boyfriend and have only masturbated to porn with black guys. It’s so much better- more real too.” 

“It damn is,” he smiled, grabbing her ass through her shorts. “Dorothy’s the best little slut at this school. Gives me the best blowjobs too- and god damn I’m horny.” I could tell. His bulge snaked down his pants, and it was fucking massive. It’d probably look bigger if Dorothy could take her hands off of it. Not that I could blame her for wanting to touch that thing. 

“Please, my black king,” she kneeled down in front of Jason, “Your snowbunny is ready to serve.” 

“Very well then, babe,” he breathed, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock ou- 

FUCK! That thing was fucking huge! When he pulled it out, the whole thing fell out like it was a waterfall. It was pretty soft, but still flopped around like a bean bag as long as my arm! No wonder Dorothy was drooling and falling to her knees. 

“Thank you master!” she drooled. With the mouth she spent hours talking about black guys with, she sloppily licked up and down his black shaft. 

“Yes baby girl, lick up and down my big rod,” He smiled at her as her mouth made his cock get hard. 

She wrapped her arm and legs around his strong leg. Still drooling, she kissed his balls, his base, and right above his cock. Then, she grabbed his bobbing dick and took it down her throat and back out with ease. I had no idea she could do that. “Stupid white cocks get awawy from me and master!” She yelled at BP and some white boys which walked past. 

“Princess- would you like to continue this more.. Privately?” 

“Y-yes black master! Let’s go!” 

“Nooo,” whined BP, getting his little dick out of his pants. I elbowed him in the ribs, not wanting his whines to stop me from seeing this. 

They entered their room without so much as closing the door. It wasn’t too long until I heard a bunch of loud ‘SLAP SLAP SLAP’. I didn’t want to just sit there next to BP as he pulled down his pants and showed off the full 2 inches he had. Jeez, he was smaller than my ex. I let myself in. 

I exptected them to be fucking already, based on the noises, but instead she was tossed over the bed on her back with his cock ramming down her throat. They were so huge and massive that when they 

slapped against her face, it was loud enough to sound like a girl’s whole ass bouncing on a guys cock. He pulled it out and covered her face with her juicy drool. 

“Yess master, slap my snowbunny face with your huge balls! It’s such an honor!” I wasn’t even sure if she noticed me. 

“How my balls taste, slut?” 

“Like hard working black sweat! Tastes like heaven, my king?” 

BP stepped up behind me with his soft little feet against the tile. “I want sis to taste my balls,” he muttered, stroking off. I told him to shut the fuck up. 

It seemed Dorothy did notice us. “Bye bye white boys I only suck black cock!” She held up two peace signs. 

“B-but she wouldn’t even have to put in an effort” he argued with a wimpy whisper. 

“The answer is no,” boomed Jason. 

“N-not even a good luck kiss?” whimpered BP. 

“No girl would ever want that little dick!” she rolled around onto her stomach. Then she grabbed his cock and deepthroated her master’s cock. 

He lit up with pleasure and began to face fuck his little princess. “Fuck yeah bitch!” The sounds of wet slapping and groaning can be heard throughout the room. She stuck out her tongue while her mouth was pounded to lick his huge balls. 

“RAAGH!” he scared BP with his scream, “FUCK YES!" 

She sucked his shaft, taking it in and out of his throat while she pulled herself in with her arms, wrapped around his legs. 

“Fuckin workin for that nigga nut God DAYUM!” He pulled it out and slapped it against her face. 

She gently kissed his shaft with each time it strongly hit her face. “Yes my black king, please cover me with your godly seed!” 

“Unnnngh SHIT!” He yelled, jacking his wet dick over her face. 

She smothered her face in his soaking wet cock. It was big enough to cover her entire face. No wonder it was so hard for him to get his dick blown well. “Please my king give me seed! Let me taste you master!” BP let out a little moan. Just like Mrs. McCaa said, he came a few dribbles on the floor. They both looked over. “HOW DARE YOU?!” she shrieked at him. I only heard Dorothy yell like that when she heard I was once groped at a party by a senior when I was a freshman. “His divine cock is only for snowbunnies to climb on!” BP was scared, and tried to run off, but slipped on the floor. Not on his cum, 

of course. I’m pretty sure it already evaporated. 

“Get out here, short lil white boy!” yelled Jason, stuffing his dick down her throat to cum down. He filled her whole stomach and esophagus. BP ran out to the hallway and got his little dick laughed at. 

“You know that doesn’t satisfy me,” breathed Dorothy. She turned around to lay on her back and spread her legs. “M-master? Please help..” 

He got on his knee, licking his lips then licking his princess’ pink pussy. “Mmmm- MMM!’ 

“P-please breed with me my kind please! I can’t control myself!” 

“Alright bitch,” he got up and slurped his lips. 

“One step closer to white boy extinction my king!” He slid his rock hard black cock into her pussy. She instantly groaned as his beast penetrates her. “O-ooooo---- my king!” He jammed the rest of his cock in her tight pussy as he cackled happily. She moaned with pure bliss as her mind got hazy. “Being blacked is great!” 

I started to give into temptation and took a seat in the corner. I slipped my hand down my leggings to touch my pussier. It had never been wetter. 

“You love my big black cock in that pussy baby?” 

She arched her back and forced herself on his gargantuan thing, “Yes my King!! A white boy could never please a woman like you can, my king!!” 

“Glad to HEAR IT!” He lifted her whole body up with his huge strength and began to fuck her. He was thorough and clearly knew exactly how to fit the whole thing in her. She wrapped her legs around him as he fucked her. The walls of her pussy squelched out juices and they tightly hugged her cock. “UNG! FUCKING TIGHT PUSSY!” he fucked her faster and harder. 

She moaned as her pussy loosened. “A-AH!” 

“You cummin on this DICK?!” 

“S-soon my king! My pussy loves black cock!” 

“Cum on this big nigga dick!!!” he slammed his cock deeper in her pussy. 

She tightly wrapped her arms and legs around her master and thrashed on his huge cock. She pulled herself up to hug close to his sweaty chest. “Black boys are so gooood!” She started squirting sticky fluids from her pussy and throbbing clit. 

“Uh! Uh! Keep cumming!” 

She groaned and moaned loudly as her pussy convulsed on his cock, “Ughhhhh master feels so 

good!!” “UNNNN! FUCK yes!” She clung to her master and gasped for air. “Oh, it ain’t over yet, bitch!” he tossed her down, forced her legs apart, and looked right into my eyes. Then, just to show off, he took out his cock and shot in incredibly thick load of ropy cum right in her gaped pussy hole. It all went in. 

“U-ughhhhh black cokkkkkk.” I’d be moaning the same thing if I were her. Fuck, I’d love to fuck a black guy half Blackwolf’s size. To shove more fingers into my converted snowbunny pussy. I ripped off my leggings. Plenty of people outside were naked anyways. 

“Damn, bitch! I’m gonna sleep well tonight!” 

I just noticed then that BP and one of his white loser friends were peeking in. The didn’t even look at me, naked and fingering myself juicily. They stared at that huge black cock, enchanted by jealousy and horniness. 

“M-hmm,” she said, closing her eyes and wiggling herself around as she enjoyed the black cum inside her. “H-hey, white boys!” she said deliriously. “You too, Ashley! Only a black man could ever make a white girl like myself have so much pleasure! Think about THAT when you sleep, white loser boys! And my king- thank you for blacking me... I love black cocks forever.” 

“That’s my girl,” he slapped her thigh, letting her legs close. 

“That makes me hard... muttered the other white boy. 

Dorothy blushed at that and put her hands over her eyes. “Be quiet loser, you never will! Go tug your little shrimp dick while thinking of master. Gross little white boys!” Jason got up and walked out of the room. I couldn’t help but laugh as I saw his huge thing swung past his knees. Compared to that, BP and his gooning friend looked like insects. 

“You’re both undeserving to be around master!” his friend opened his mouth, but Dorothy shut him up. “Your little dicks will never be good enough- because you know what? Size does matter.” 

Jason shoved his way back into the dorm, drinking a gatorade. “Spoken like a true size queen.” 

“Thank you for the praise my master.” 

BP stroked his stiff little thing. “I think it can get a little bigger...” 

“HAHAHAHAHA! Oh PLEASE!” laughed Jason. 

“You both disgust me. White dicks mean nothing to me!” She gently rubbed her master’s cock and points it to the whiteboys. “THIS is what a girl wants!” 

The new boy shook and leaked at the BBC. “Yes ma’am I am weak.” 

“D-didn’t Master Jason say he wants more?” asked BP, loyal as he promised he would be. “Master wants more? Good. Let’s mate all night long, my king! My holes will be stuffed with superior 

black seed! White boys exist only to serve their black kings and white queens!” 

“Whitebois like me are weak and pathetic. Let us worship!” moaned BP’s friend. 

“Yes you are.” 

“Worship what? You stupid loser.” 

“I- I wanna worship your ass,” begged BP, “As it’s pounded by BBC.” 

“Pathetic and Horny. Fitting for white trash like you. I bet if I twerked all the white boys here would cum instantly. You know why? Because you are all gross worthless cucks.” 

“Mm- yes I would. I’d shoot my cums all over the floor!” BP blushed, “M-master’s cum is so thick, sis.” 

“Thicker than my thighs.” She smiled at him and turned around, showing off her ass to Jason and twerking with all her might. 

“Awww, I wish I could watch...” whined BP, “I’m sure his cum’s like glue. 

“C’mon babe, spread my ass cheeks wide and cum inside! Your princess’ ass is nothing but a black man’s cum dumpster!” I climbed over onto the bed next to them, not wanting to stay next to those pathetic white boys. 

“W-what do we do when he cums?” 

“Princess? What do you think?” asked Jason, looking at her as he started finger me. His hands were huge! I tossed my head back as he did his magic. 

“Let the whiteboys lick your cum if they want, their cum goes in the trash though! And if any of their white cum touches me, please beat them up!” 

The boys just moaned. 

“SAY THANK YOU! Master’s cum is glorious, not just anyone gets to lick it up!” 

“THANK YOU SISTER DOROTHY!” the white boys yelled. 

“Now go splurt in the trash, sis is about to get pounded.” 

They both started moaning. The new one kept fapping, but BP came in pathetic seconds, before I even got to see his black cock stretch my best friend’s asshole. 

“Dangit... I always cum first!” already soft, BP walked over to grab a tissue, and got down to clean up his load. 

“Your cum is worthless,” huffed Dorothy as her asshole got pounded, “If it touches me I will vomit. And 

don’t get it on the floor! Get it into the trash! Or the toilet!” 

“I- I jerk my little white thing every time I go to the bathroom!” moaned BP as his friend ran to the toilet. TMI, dude. 

Dorothy’s master- no, our master, had enough of it too. He pushed his cockhead deeper in her stretchy asshole and smacked her cheeks. “Twerk more babygirl! Shut the fuck up about them!” 

“Y-yes my king!” She bent over further and twerked for her. Both me and him were enchanted by how she took his cock anally. 

“Unf! Some BOOTY cheeks!” He stroked the lengthy part of his monster cock that wasn’t in her ass yet. 

She bit her lip and twerked faster. He shoved another finger in my horny pussy. “Watch, white boys!” she cheered. They said something, sounding like moaning little girls. I was in too much bliss to hear it. “I’m gonna vomit if you keep talking!” 

He finally stuck the rest of his rod right into her. “UNNGH! GET IN THERE! DEEP IN THAT TIGHT BUBBLE BOOTY!” he shouted. She groaned as he fully entered her ass and she drooled on his bed. 

“M-my ass feels so good!” 

“DAMN this ass!” 

Her ass convulsed, opening up to fit his cock to the hilt as she trained it. “Ugh ughhh ohhhh fuck- mmmmm” 

“Tell daddy how you want it, and beg for it.” 

She bit her lip and twerked as he fucked her, “D-daddy please I want it rough! Show Ashley how you break my snowbunny ass!” I decided then that we would be friends for life then and there. I just closed my eyes and listen to what they said. “Stretch it out daddy please do it... I want it so bad these stupid white boys are so pathetic, show them daddy, show them how a woman should be pleasured!” She sounded delirious. I loved this school. 

“RRrrrr FUCK YEAH!” he pulled me closer with one hand, easily muscling my whole body over so he could better finger me while he fucked Dorothy’s ass. He was just fingering me, and wasn’t even paying much attention to me, but it was already the best sex I’d ever had. “You like the way Daddy FUCKS YOU, BITCH?!” 

“O-oh daddy!! YES!!!” 

For what felt like half an hour, I heard him yell about how tight her butthole was and how tight her ass was and how much he loved her butt shaking and how red he was making it. She screeched about how much she loved his big black cock, and how her asshole was gonna be permanently stretched after tonight. 

The room was filled with sharp moans. Her mind was slowly shattered as she came at least a few times from her asshole being stretched into a gaping hole.. I definitely did. 

“FUCK YES!” he tore his hands from my pussy after I came twice to slap her ass. I missed his warm fingers... “Damn, you’re STRETCHED,” he slapped her ass. She groaned in bliss as her asshole was completely broken by her master. “You want this bitch?” He ripped his hard cock out of her hole and stroked it. 

She collapsed weekly on the bed, eyes rolled back in her head as she groaned, “Black cooooooock.” 

He flipped her over to put it back in. Once again, muscled young man pounded that black ass. Her eyes opened again, then quickly crossed as she moaned as loud as she could. “UNG! FUCK! I’M GONNA NUT IN YOU, BABY GIRL!” 

I could see her stomach stretch as he slammed his cock as deep as it could go. “Cummmmmmmmm,” she moaned, her ass still gaping as she groaned loudly. 

“AAARRRRRRRGH!” he yelled, blasting a fat, huge load deep in her ass. 

Oh, fuck. I came again. I didn’t even notice I was touching myself. 

Dorothy’s tongue came out of her mouth, leaving a trail of drool as it slid off his cock, “Ugggghhhghghgh cockkkkkkkk.” Her ass was left a gaping, filled, cummy mess as she lay on the bed drooling with a soaking wet pussy. Master had broken her. 

“Fuck,” he said, plopping back on his pillows as his huge cock flopped out from between her asscheeks. “God-dayum. That was the best fuck I think I’ve ever had.” 

I got up, my own cum between my thighs. My nose wrinkled as I smelled the sweaty, dirty, cum-covered sheets. In my heart though, I loved it. “C-can I go next? I asked.” 

“Maybe later, babe. I kinda tired. Did you see.. Did you see where those white boys ran off to?” 

I shook my head. 

“Good. Fuck ‘em, right? Or don’t.” He grinned at me. I smiled black, blushing. I couldn’t believe a naked black guy who just fucked my best friend in front of me was flirting with me, and I liked it! 

“So... I’ll just take Dorothy back to her room?” 

“Sounds good, babe.” 

I got up, pulling Dorothy’s sticky body off the bed. Thankfully she was smaller than me. I carried her bridal style out of the room. 

“Hey,” he called back right before I left. He grinned devilishly. “See you tomorrow.” 

I carried my sexy, dripping friend through the halls and to our dorm, plopping her on our bunk bed once we got there. I’d have to get my clothes back tomorrow. 

Steamy black cum leaked from her ass as she groaned in monotone. She looked in pure bliss. The kind of bliss only a black man could give. To that, I sat on the floor and fingered myself again. 

My first night at Blackworth, I didn’t sleep at all. And I fucking loved it. 

#bbc #story #interracial

[fanfic-scribbles]

Lunch Buddy: Chapter Fifteen

Masterlist

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Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers makes a friend. A prickly, generally people-averse friend, but they’ll both take what they can get.

Quick Facts: Friendship (/Eventual Romance) – Steve Rogers & Reader (leading to Steve Rogers/Reader) – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 15: Avoidance

Chapter Summary: The thing about avoiding your problems is that you always have to face them sooner than you think.

Chapter Word Count: 2611

A/N: Slight warnings for a little bit of angsting, and it’s a little light on Steve content (though he eventually appears from afar). Anywho. I wish I could say something cool like ‘enjoy the pining!’ but I have no idea how long I can actually keep them apart considering I have been mushing two dolls together in my head and going ‘now kiss!’ since I started posting. There will be a little pining though. Like, maybe a car air freshener, at least. Enjoy!

    I avoided Steve for the rest of the long weekend. It was easier than it might have been had he not been called in for something. Though we still had texting, he was busy and I didn’t instigate. Even when we did communicate, my responses were short and didn’t leave much for follow up. He probably assumed I needed time to de-socialize, because that was the kind of guy he was, sweet and caring and all good things. Meanwhile, I knew exactly why I was trying not to talk to him, and it stressed me the hell out.

I didn’t want to think about any of it and found my perfect excuse on Monday morning, when a work project made me skip lunch and go into overtime. I immediately texted Steve telling him I’d be busy for a few days and threw myself into work. Unfortunately the project was too time-sensitive and it was done before I even clocked out Tuesday afternoon.

“Okay, this definitely isn’t about money anymore,” my boss said that evening, just when he was packing up. “Do you have a spouse you’re having a fight with?”

“I’m just…looking for stuff to do. To keep me busy.” I didn’t back down when he stared at me. “Just for this week?”

He sighed heavily and rubbed his face. “Okay. Lunches and up to one hour after if you spend it working on organizing the junk drive. Make real progress on cleaning that out and I’ll approve the overtime.”

That was two hours of mindless-but-incredibly-draining work that would put me at a worse commute time and make me crawl into bed at the end of the day, and hopefully completely wipe me out on the weekend.

Perfect.

“Thank you!” I said and started to bound out to get started on the one job everybody in my department passed around like it was a beach ball on fire.

“Seriously,” he said and I stopped. He stood there with his bag over his shoulder and asked, “Are you okay?”

I almost smiled, but remembered that would be out of character. “I’m fine,” I said and shrugged one shoulder. “Holidays, you know?”

It worked. For the most part. I at least had a plausible excuse to keep Steve off my back, and my boss didn’t press any further, and I made progress on the most mind-numbing task ever embarked upon by an actual human with an actual brain.

The only problem was that it wasn’t numbing enough. As much as I tried to avoid thinking about Steve at all, he was still in my phone, as was Sam, and even Clint and Natasha now too. Pepper wasn’t a very social texter, thankfully, but I kept getting pulled back to Steve in other ways. In the course of three days I: saw a tuft of blonde hair that made me do a double-take, heard his recorded laugh as I passed by someone who didn’t understand the concept of using headphones, and had to listen to a few older ladies gossip about ‘what a man’ he was in unfiltered detail. I even had a dream about some of the things they said because the universe hated me, apparently.

And then there was Steve himself, not texting that much, but always taking the time to send me a little photo every day that was obviously meant to make me laugh. He even sent me the ‘Hang in there’ kitten poster (which made me snort way too loudly in public) along with ‘I dare you to use this for your lockscreen for a month.’

I texted back, ‘What do I get for it?’ before I realized I was breaking my own goddamn rules and smashed my face into my desk.

Steve: Something good ;)

Oh god. Did he know what he was doing? If he did I wished he would have just put me out of my fucking misery already.

Steve: How’s work?

Fuck.

Me: Busy. Me: How’s work? Steve: Almost done Steve: I hope your job lets up this weekend Steve: Sam is coming back with me and we’re hoping you can come out with us

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Me: We’ll see

Work did let up. Unfortunately. I made good progress on organizing the long-forgotten junk drive and my boss repaid me and betrayed me in the same breath.

“I’ll approve the overtime,” he said. “But that’s it for now. You look exhausted and I need you to take the weekend to rest up, okay?”

It was the one and only time I had ever wished to have a bastard boss again. But I was tired, and I didn’t have any excuses. “Okay,” I said and left his office feeling miserable. I got home pretty quick for a Friday night, which just left me more time to think about things I really didn’t want to think about. And there was only one cure for that.

The club was busier than I was used to, busier than it had any right to be with the night just really beginning, but as soon as I got in I made a beeline for the bar and snaked in the first opening I could find. It was loud, and too crowded, and I really wasn’t up for this, but I didn’t know what else to do. So I started drinking.

That was a bad idea. Aside from the ‘using alcohol to try and drown your emotions’ being a baseline fucking awful idea, it also didn’t fucking work.

Couples. They were everywhere. Leaning next to each others’ ears, making out along the wall, dancing together like it was foreplay; they were so all over the place that even the fake ID crowd seemed less obnoxious by comparison.

Except for when a gaggle of party girls yelled right next to me for no real reason and reminded me they really weren't. The music thumped and I winced and turned away from watching the floor to sip my drink at the bar like the true lonely miser I was.

And wasn’t that just the thing.

Loneliness, as a thing in my life, had stopped bothering me after a while– or maybe I had just stopped noticing it– either way, it wasn’t generally a thing I dwelled on. I took for granted that I wasn’t the type anyone would settle in with; I was too…whatever. So for the longest time I had just assumed I’d be on my own and I was okay with it. I knew I could handle it, and figured I and everyone else was better off for it. People came and went, and no one ever stuck around before– not that I ever gave them a real reason to. And if I couldn’t make friendships work, I had no business getting into a relationship. It truly didn’t bother me. Most of the time.

So it figured I would fall for the first person I’d had qualify as ‘friend’ in a while. That thought was slightly concerning, but as long as I didn’t make these feelings Steve’s problem, I could sleep easy at night. For the most part. The question was how to deal with it. Did I continue as normal and bottle this up for the rest of time, hoping it would fade out? Did I continue as normal but let him know, and let him decide if he wanted to stick around?

Or did I just…let go. Did I stop putting in the time to keep this friendship going. Did I stop responding, start avoiding him, and just fade out of his life even easier than I had faded in. That seemed like a real option. I was so naturally good at it, had done it so much by accident, he wouldn’t even miss me. After a while I doubt he would remember I existed.

My mouth tasted sour and bitter and I tossed back my drink. It didn’t help.

~

An hour later I was home, sitting at my kitchen counter and hanging my face over a cup of tea that got colder by the minute. My head still pulsed in time with the beat that had driven me out of the club, but it had become less and less over time.

My phone buzzed. “Shh,” I said softly, but it ignored me and I looked over only to hurt my neck when I did a double-take. Steve had sent three texts. Shit. I sat up and opened my phone directly to my messages. If Steve had gotten injured again I was really going to hurt him.

Fortunately the first message was a simple ‘Hey’ sent soon after I had set out on my ill-advised adventure. The next was ‘Are you busy?’ and then simply my name.

I hesitated. I had the terrible thought that here was where I could start ghosting on out of his life. Fade away like the nonentity I was.

I swallowed and sent back, ‘Sry. Went out’

Steve: Oh Steve: Good :) Steve: How are you? Me: Okay Me: You? Steve: I’m okay

The conversation stalled and I realized why I had even considered ghosting– it was easy to not respond when you didn’t know what to say.

Me: Good Steve: Can I ask you Steve: Are you really okay?

His texts came too fast after mine to be responding to the silence. Fuck.

Me: Yes Me: Why?

I shouldn’t have asked, but I had a bad feeling about this. I tapped my fingers on the table while I waited for a response.

Steve: You haven’t been talking to me much lately Steve: I’m just Steve: worried Steve: Was it Thanksgiving? Steve: Was I inappropriate?

Shit, shit, shit. I hit my forehead on the table which, fucking ow, but I deserved it. I had never intended for him to feel bad for something that wasn’t his fault, nor was it ever supposed to be his problem. It wasn’t right for him to be upset because of my bullshit. So I decided to be honest.

Me: No Me: It’s not you Me: It’s very definitely me Me: I’m mis Me: miserable Me: And awful Steve: You’re not Me: Am too Me: It’s not you tho Me: I’m having a hard time Me: That’s all

Honest to a point, at least.

Steve: I’m sorry Steve: Can I help? Me: No Me: Gotta Me: Push through Steve: Okay Steve: I’m your friend though Steve: You can always come to me Steve: And hey Steve: Sam and I are going out tomorrow for dinner Steve: I’ll text you the details just in case you’re up to it Steve: But I won’t expect anything Steve: Is that okay?

Why did he have to be so fucking thoughtful all the time. Why did he have to be someone so out of my league in every single way.

Me: Fine Me: Can’t promise Steve: That’s okay <3

I was going to straight up murder whoever taught him fucking heart symbols. Preferably by taking their heart.

Steve: Have you eaten yet? Me: Don’t wanna Steve: How about dessert?

‘Only if you’re here to share it,’ I thought. The worst part was that it wasn’t even sexual– I just wanted him here. With me. All of the time. Okay, maybe not all of the time, but most of the time. And that was new. That was different. That scared the hell out of me.

Then there was a knock at my door and I froze up. Nobody had buzzed for me and while my building wasn’t exactly Fort Knox, I also didn’t expect company I didn’t explicitly invite over. I gave it a few seconds but kept my connection to Steve in hand (just in case) and went to the peephole.

Me: Someone knocked. If I don’t respond maybe send help Steve: It’s safe :)

I squinted at the message and then peered out again. I didn’t see him at all and it wasn’t like him to hide. I cautiously opened the door and looked around but there was no one– but there was something.

A bakery box sat in front of my door, with a note scrawled on receipt paper that had my name followed with very flowery bubble letters telling me to “Feel Better!” from a hand-scrawled smiling sunflower.

I stared at it, picked up the box, brought it in, set it on the counter, and stared at it some more.

Steve: Okay now you’ve put that thought into my head I’m a little worried Steve: Are you okay? Me: brb Me: crying into cake Steve: Don’t cry Steve: Or cry if you need to I guess Steve: But eat something too Steve: I’ll say good night here Steve: And text you again with dinner info Steve: Again, only if you want to. Sam and I will NOT be slighted Steve: I promise Me: Good night Steve Steve: Good night <3

“Just fucking end me,” I muttered and stared at the screen while I dug into the cake with a fork. (It was small; I felt no shame.) It was also so unbelievably good that I actually stopped and checked out the box.

Me: Wait, how did you get a cake this late??? Steve: Asking the real questions

I laughed. That surprised me, but I couldn’t help it.

Me: It’s really good Me: Thank you Steve: Anytime

I forced myself to think about this whole…situation…while I ate. Phasing out of his life was, apparently, not much of an option if he was just randomly thinking of me like this. And I knew now very firmly that even accidentally hurting him was not an option. Love was an easy word for complicated emotion, but it was the best way I knew how to classify how deeply I cared for him. And I cared, to the point where if anybody was going to get hurt, I’d rather it be me.

The more I thought about it though, the more I had real hope that maybe nobody would get hurt at all. Steve was a really good guy. So even if he accidentally found out (I knocked on wood at the thought) it wouldn’t be the end of everything. He wouldn’t let it be the end of everything; he would be flattered, reject me politely, and we could move on. I hoped.

And for once, the best-case scenario didn’t seem the least likely. I trusted Steve that much. That was something I didn’t want to look into too much, but to be fair, he also trusted…me. He would know I wasn’t infatuated with some aspect of him and we might even work past this together. If not, he would give me the chance to work past it on my own, and I wasn’t about to let him down.

The box topped off my trash so I pulled the bag together and got ready to make the trek to take it out. Coming out the door I almost ran right into my neighbor, Robert, who was apparently doing the same thing.

“Hey,” he said. I was polite like a real human being and asked after his wife and kids. We made some more small talk on the way, and he even waited to hold the chute open for me. When I lifted the bag, his eyes zeroed in on the box stuffed half in the top. “Oh, that place is nice. You celebrating something?”

“No,” I said and shoved it in. “I…wasn’t feeling so great. So a friend sent it to me.”

“That must be a pretty good friend,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, thinking about Steve and finally feeling hopeful. “A really good friend.”

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers & reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert #lunch buddy

[svtskneecaps]

Walls Could Talk Part 12 ~ something i need to tell you

(Seventeen Fic, Superpower! Non-Idol! High school! AU)

You’re just a high school kid trying to survive your senior year. Seems simple enough. Problem is, you landed a major crush on a good looking transfer student, and unfortunately, the both of you are hiding some abilities that are a bit less than normal, and there’s a ghost you thought you buried in your past that’s rearing his ugly head. So… maybe this won’t be as easy as you were hoping.

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warnings: descriptions of anxiety attacks. skip from the marker (2) to the end (you’re not missing much crucial information but i can and will summarize if you're concerned)

feel free to tell me if i need to extend the section, i thought i got the worst of it but as someone with mild issues i have no real experience and want it to be as safe as possible for people; and tell me if i need to add another section (i’ll be out of state when this goes up so i might not be able to get to it right away..... i’m sorry)

“Is there anywhere private we can talk here?”

What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

Faced with Jun’s earnest and almost concerned expression, you stammer out something about outside during lunch. He gives the window an appraising glance. It’s been cooling down quickly, hovering in the low forties most days. He must've seen something he liked, because he turned back to you and said, “Lunch then?”

No really, what the hell are you supposed to say to that?

You drop into your seat as the bell rings, breathless and terrified, your stomach churning like a hurricane as you whip out the math homework due a week ago, the numbers doing little to settle your nerves. That could mean any number of things. Did he notice your none-too-subtle crush? Was he doing this to kindly turn you down? Did he share the sentiment? Or did he--you buried your face behind a tangle of hands and hair, trying to hide the trembling wracking your shoulders--did he find the article from all those years ago and want to confront you about it, forgetting that it was public, that it was immortalized in the online archives? You were joking when you texted 8; no matter how approachable Jun was you had never, never considered telling him. You’d thought it was buried so deep they could never find it.

But it would never really be buried far enough. And, as you dragged yourself out of your protective cocoon for a cursory google of your name, there it was. The first result, since you had long pulled accounts with your name on them off the search results after constant reminders. The unpleasant feeling leaked out of your stomach, lead infecting your veins.

“Last Friday, a local teen was hospitalized after--”

You slammed the computer shut on instinct as it began to read the article aloud to you, like a setting you couldn't shut off. A flush spread across your cheeks as everyone looked back at you. Their gazes lasted only a second, but they tore worse than claws. This whole damn thing was bringing up more memories than you cared to admit, you should've shut down the train before it left the station, should've shut up and sat down and stifled it. He was probably just going to turn your crush down (and in light of the alternatives, it was almost a relief to think that).

You shoved the computer in your backpack as it continued reading, words for your ears alone, muffled and distorted but you’d stared at that damn article for hours after that first day back enough that every word was ingrained in your memory and every rumor rattled in your brain and whispered in your ears when it was quiet, overpowering the comforting chatter of all the objects around you. You put your headphones in and played music as loud as you dared. “Ten minutes,” the clock helpfully reminded you. Ten minutes to the reckoning, for everything to come collapsing down on you. You made a mental note to ask Miss Mendes if you could go to the nurse after lunch; you didn't dare come back here.

Two minutes to Armageddon. You’d asked Miss Mendes. You must've looked sicker than you thought because she didn't hesitate to agree. You'd long finished your math homework, even though you kept breaking your pencil lead and ripping holes in the paper. You fiddled with your pencil, staring at the clock with no small amount of apprehension, trying not to think.

You could hear the class in the background working on a worksheet together, Seokmin’s excited voice rising to the top and making you drowsy, against all logic (not that you particularly minded). Time blurred as your head slumped onto your arms.

The bell broke through your dazed stupor, sending everything crashing back. Your hands started to shake again as you fumbled with your ID, keys jingling against it as you stood. Jun was waiting by the door already, and you lead the way through the halls.

Out by the mascot statue on the side lawn, you’d heard, was the best place to talk privately. From there you could see all angles, and between the mascot’s feet was a small space where one could conceal oneself from all angles. Nobody tended to use it for talking, exactly, but you were banking on Jun not knowing the usual implications of the spot.

“So,” you said, crammed into a spot behind the mascot’s knee, back pressed against the cold statue, speaking in a vain attempt to cover your mounting terror, “what’s up?”

“I--” he started. And then stopped. And then hesitated. And oh no.

Your nerves jangled like your keys, and you had to tear your eyes away, forcing yourself to trace over the graffiti keyed into the statue before you spilled some beans that shouldn't go in the soup. If he didn't know about the article, or your crush, or your-- other thing, then you didn't want to tip him off.

“You-- speak Korean, don't you?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything, that? “That's what we had to talk about?”

“Well, no,” he said (and boy if that didn't send you spiraling back). “I just-- I don't trust my English. And this is important.”

Do you admit it? The secret you’ve held this whole semester? Lay your cards before you? It wasn't really even a question. “Well, my speaking isn't-- I’m not comfortable speaking it,” you said, starting over before you diss yourself because by god you're trying not to. “But if you speak slowly I should understand most things.”

He nodded, and then stared out across the lawn. You went back to tracing the graffiti, hearts with initials from the eighties and the sixties and the twenty tens scratched on the mascot’s heels. An anarchy symbol between the toes. A--

“I’mamindreader,” Jun exploded.

Your head shoots up. “Slower?”

“I--” he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can't think of a delicate way of putting this. I’m a mind reader.”

Oh.

(2)

Should you have guessed? Maybe you should have guessed. But- no, what kind of crazy assumption would that have been?? Yes, you talked to objects that didn't have voices on a daily basis but that didn't mean you were just up and guessing what strange power your friends would have, especially after- no he might be listening don't you dare but your heart jumped into your throat unbidden. He was saying something but you felt miles away, watching his mouth move through a telescope because how much did he know?? With the guilt on his face you were sure it was everything and it was like everything you feared most had collided, the car crash morphing into a t-bone between a gas tanker and a train because he knew about your crush knew about the Bad Place knew about Derek knew knew knew he’d violated the one space you’d thought was sacred you wanted to throw up.

“I need space,” you choked out, hands reaching clumsily to pull yourself out of the alcove, and it wasn't the graceful exit you wanted and you felt like every emotion was plastered on your face and you didn't even hear his response as you all but sprinted across the lawn, running for your car as fast as humanly possible.

You collapsed into the driver’s seat and hid your head behind the steering wheel and your hair and your hands, desperately trying not to cry. You already regretted your harsh exit (he’d bared his soul to you and this was how you repaid it? god, you were just vying for the worst, weren’t you, you ranked up there with Derek) but if you'd stayed longer--

You couldn't. You’d done enough harm just by admitting it in the first place. He was your friend, he’d brought you into the fold, and you were terrified of an aspect of himself he couldn't change? And with your reaction, he probably thought you hated him, would never speak to him again. How was he to know you’d panicked on the spot? (unless he was in your mind again but you didn't want to think about it because that was much much worse than him just seeing hatred; he didn't deserve to be dragged into a panic attack no one did it was the most selfish thing you’d ever done).

You sent Miss Mendes a shakily typed email, wishing you’d thought to grab your stuff before leaving. You just thought you'd feel well enough to grab your stuff, no matter which bomb he dropped on you. She shot back a response immediately, concerned but not prying. She promised to leave your stuff by the door, and honestly the twelve thank yous you typed in your response didn't even cover it (what had a person like you done to deserve an understanding angel of a teacher like her?).

Your car threatened to run them over a couple times before realizing it wasn't helping and subsided. There wasn’t much she could offer, right then. You didn't want to talk (you’d explode if you even dared open your mouth).

The walk back up to the building was excruciating. Every step was a chore. Against all logic you felt eyes on you the whole time, judging, whispering, pitying, The hallways were empty, and the feeling just persisted. Each step echoed off the walls, impossibly loud.

True to her word, Miss Mendes had left your things just inside the door. You avoided eye contact, hiding your face with the door and only opening it wide enough to grab your things (you knew what you’d find if you looked up, hatred and betrayal and just the thought made you nauseous).

You spent the remainder of the day in the counseling center. (they let you alphabetize the files in the back room, with the lights off, once you said you couldn't talk about it and just needed a place to hide calm down)

#seventeen #wen junhui #seventeen au #wen junhui au #junhui #seventeen scenarios #junhui scenario #wen junhui imagines #seventeen imajines #seventeen fluff #wen junhui fluff #seventeen angst #wen junhui angst

[musashi]

sorry for being a bitch about this i just. any alt. fashion folks who spend most of their life on public transport know how it turns us into a fucking art exhibit. it’s so objectifying. people who dress typical, most of them have internalized reasons for why we dress the way we do. a lot of them think it HAS to be for attention, like they can’t think of anything else. they don’t see beauty in the ways we see it, or they’re made uncomfortable by how we express it. a lot of people are genuinely curious, but most are late enough in life to have internalized certain things about certain forms of dress.

the fact of the matter is, most people who wear alternative fashion wear it because it makes them happy. that is it.

i’m wearing 5 in platforms covered in bat-shaped buckles because it makes me happy. i’m wearing seventeen studs and belts because it makes me happy. i’m wearing fishnets on every damn inch of my body because it makes me happy. i’m wearing one shade above vantablack on my lips because it makes me happy. my spikes make me happy, my chains make me happy, my neon pink mohawk makes me happy.

id get my hair done as a teenager--jet black with turquoise streaks--and the stylist would comment that i was ‘such a rebel.’ i was a shut-in of a kid who got straight a’s and cried around authority figures. i just thought black and turquoise was a pretty combination.

i always have my headphones on when im on the bus. recently, a man spent 10 minutes trying to get them off of me, desperate to tell me his opinion on my boots. my music wasn’t on, but i have an excellent poker face, so i sat there dead-eyed pretending it was. he started out telling me how cool he thought they were. when i didn’t respond, he repeated it. he then went on to assure me that he wasn’t hitting on me. he followed it up by telling me that i am not, in fact, attractive to him. he lead this into telling me i was ugly, then that i was an ugly dyke bitch, then that i was an ugly dyke satanist bitch. this is a regular occurrence, one that happens maybe once a week. it always starts with someone with a burning NEED in their heart to voice all their opinions on how i’m dressed.

please just leave us alone. some of us might want to chat. some of us might be okay if you ask us for a picture. most of us, though, are just people trying to commute, not attention-seeking performance art just DESPERATE for someone to notice how ~fun and quirky~ we are and talk to us about it. i’m just trying to get to work, to my home, to hang out with my friends. i’m not an art exhibit. i’m just a person trying to exist. 

if you like my platform boots, buy some platform boots.

#wordy wendy

[kae-karo]

Katie I’m about to fly completely on my own for the first time this Friday and I’m pretty anxious about it. Do you have any advise you could give me about flying/the airport/packing/anything really? Thank you in advance :S x

hi b! ooooookay wow finally the 38 flights i went on last year will come in handy!

packing:

okay traveling by yourself if you’ve never done it before won’t necessarily impact your packing - just be sure that if you have a small carry-on bag that you don’t have any liquids over 2.5oz and remember that like. if you forget something, a lot of hotels (if that’s where you’re staying) will have stuff you can use for free, just ask them. worst case they usually have some stuff you can buy but most places are like really nice. if you’re staying with friends/family, just ask if you forgot something!

most people usually do like a carry-on bag and a checked bag, but just do whatever you normally do, and then make sure your carry-on has your id/passport, your phone, a charger for said phone, your wallet, any meds you have or anything you can’t go for the entire flight without, and then something to do on the plane (book, game, laptop, tablet, etc)

my necessities: phone, wallet, passport if i’m going international, keys cause i usually have to get back in my house after lmao, laptop, chargers for laptop and phone, a portable charger, headphones

here’s the hard tip: acknowledge that you probably will forget something. i literally travel almost every month of the year and i forget one thing every time. but it’s gonna be okay. as long as you have your id/passport/wallet and phone, things will be okay

before you travel:

okay so i have the apps for like all the major airlines and i usually try to check myself in right when i’m allowed to (24hr before). if you’re on southwest, set yourself a reminder so you can check in exactly 24hr before the flight and make sure you get a decent boarding number cause they do it on first come first serve

otherwise, just check in and save a screenshot of your boarding pass to your phone. i usually just do everything with the boarding pass in the app or saved to my photos but you can get a paper copy at the airport as well, and don’t stress if you lose it or w.e once you’re past security cause the gate attendants can print a new one (or you can just use the mobile)

oh the other thing here is you can sometimes choose a different seat whilst checking in? so if you see the one that’s assigned to you and you Don’t Like It, see if any others are available that you might prefer. i always go for the closest aisle seat to the front when traveling alone

and ofc you’ll want to make sure you have some kind of plan for once you arrive at your destination for how you’ll be getting wherever you’re going - taxi, uber, ride from friend/fam, public transport, whatever, just kind of have an idea what you need to do so you’re not stressing once you land

this one is one that doesn’t apply to me, but definitely something to check and look into if needed: if you have any special requirements or needs whilst in the airport or flying, ie wheelchairs or special accommodations or w.e, make sure you know what you have to do when you arrive

leaving for the airport:

okay first and foremost, depending on your airport, you’ll want to be sure you arrive at least 1.5hr early (this is like my personal rule of thumb bc i usually fly in and out of moderately large airports and i have Massive Paranoia about traveling for some reason?? even though i take like 12+ trips a year? but most places require no less than 40ish minutes ahead of time, that’s like super tight though i do Not recommend) - keep in mind like. traffic and stuff, if you’re going to the airport during rush hour or w.e make time for that

if you’re not familiar with your airport and like getting in (bc there’s usually a massive amount of like exits and ‘turn here for this’ sort of things) talk to someone who is familiar with it or like. google maps it ahead of time and street view walk yourself through it, whatever you need to do to feel comfy so if you’re the one driving, you know where to go to park/etc. if you’re ubering or having someone drop you off, just be sure you know which airline you’re on as they’ll drop you off in the right place

checking in:

okay if you’re already checked in and you don’t have a checked bag, you can head straight to security, but if you do need to check your bag, use the kiosks they’re always faster and you don’t have to wait in line. it’s pretty self-explanatory, usually, just enter the identifying info and it’ll probably note that you’re already checked in and just say you have a bag to check. you can also print a physical boarding pass here if you want. the kiosk will print out your luggage tag and just follow the instructions to attach it to the bag. there’ll be like a drop off point (they’re usually p well-labeled) up by the actual people at desks so just head up there and have your id/passport and boarding pass ready cause they’ll want to check them

security:

okay 9 times out of 10 you probably will Not have tsa precheck but if you do, it’ll be somewhere on your boarding pass and you should look for/ask someone about the nearest tsa precheck line. it’s just convenient, cause you don’t have to remove laptops or take your shoes off and it’s usually the shortest line

if you don’t have tsa precheck, just find the nearest (and shortest) security line and have your id and boarding pass ready. if you’re using a mobile boarding pass, lock your screen rotation if you’ll be using the picture you took instead of the app (this is the most annoying thing lmao i’ve done it too many times and usually just try to use the app when i can cause it’ll lock the rotation and go full brightness automatically). then you’ll have to put the phone on the lil scanner and it’ll beep when it’s scanned and done

now, again, if you have any special needs whilst going through security, you’re probably familiar with what you’d have to do if it differs from the standard procedure, but otherwise just go through as you normally would

between security and boarding:

do whatever u want basically. get food, if you need it or if you think you’ll need it whilst on the flight. drinks are usually hella expensive so i try to bring my refillable water bottle (empty!) and then refill once i’m past security

basically how you spend this time is totally up to you. i usually grab food as needed then go chill by my gate, if it’s an airport i’m familiar with and i know how long it’ll take to get wherever i need to go, but you may be more comfy just finding your gate first and then sticking nearby to get anything you need. also i’m a big fan of the charging areas which a lot of airports have now, so if u wanna charge up i recommend

boarding:

every airline is different but there’ll usually be some kind of boarding group or order listed on your boarding pass, so just keep that in mind (ie american has like,,,,6 boarding groups? united has 9, southwest has their whole a/b/c groups, etc etc etc i think one even has like a 2a 2b or something idk that might’ve been in the uk but just look on your boarding pass) if you’re confused or w.e don’t be afraid to ask one of the gate attendants that stand at the front

basically nothing here is all that different if you’re alone, just pay attention when they start boarding and listen for your group, same rule of thumb goes with turning your phone on screen-rotation lock when you go to scan your boarding pass (if it’s the mobile pic you saved)

the goal here with boarding is to go as quickly as you can, but don’t stress if it takes you a second to get in your row! it’s okay, people aren’t as in a rush as they seem. definitely try to fit ur stuff under your seat cause otherwise it’s a pain to get up and get it from the overhead bins

the flight:

honestly just sit back relax and do whatever u normally do! usually there’s no reason this would be any different when traveling alone. aside from sitting near strangers which is annoying sometimes but in my experience if u pop some headphones in everyone leaves u alone

after the flight:

i mean generally just head out into the airport u landed in and look for baggage claim signs - regardless of whether u checked a bag or not, most ground transport out of the airport is near the baggage claim. so just follow signs (and generally the people leaving the plane) and make your way there. if you get lost, again, don’t feel bad abt asking someone to point you in the right direction

if u have a bag, most places have a display board that says which baggage claim you’re at (if they didn’t announce it on the plane when you landed) and you can wait there

once ur done, depending on your mode of transport out, you can follow signs! many of the bigger airports now have designated sections for rideshares like uber and lyft as well 

i hope that helps b! you’ll be fine, don’t stress too much :) i hope you’re traveling for a good/fun reason at least!

#travel #advice #anon #ask #kt

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Chapter 2 - Seed and Spark

I had no idea why Harry had reacted the way he did when he walked in on me and Niall almost kissing. As far as I was concerned, if he couldn’t bother to look at me in the class we had together, he had no right to an opinion regarding who I almost kissed.

Even if it was someone he was friends with.

I bit into the granola bar Millie had handed me--it was that time of night where I was not only drunk, but now I was hungry. It was either a granola bar or a tic tac that Millie found in her coat pocket. Naturally I opted for the granola bar.

“I just don’t understand him,” I complained, the liquor and late night were both getting to my head as I chewed. “Why does he have to say something weird like that? Now I have to overthink it until I die.” I let out a dramatic groan that reverberated against the walls of the classroom buildings we passed.

Campus was quiet this time of night--the only people out and about were either drunk kids heading back to their respective dorms, or the public safety officers patrolling the grounds to ensure that all of the drunk kids heading back to their respective rooms made it there in one piece.

Millie let out a snort. “You do not have to overthink it until you die. I vote you give him a proper word or two in the morning and then pretend it never happened.”

I took another bite of the chocolate chip goodness and thought for a minute. If only Harry would realize how dull and boring Quinn could be.

Sure, the girl was sweet, and she had killer hair and a knockout face. She was skinny and short and pretty much had that body that most girls dreamed of. Minus all of that going on in the looks department, Quinn Markos enjoyed lattes, romantic movies, and doodling her name in a pink gel pen. She was 20 years old.

I didn’t know what Harry saw in her. I didn’t know why he thought that of all the girls he knew, Quinn Markos would be a good recipient of his smirk and his green eyes and his time.

Sure, maybe I was a loud mouth and too outgoing for my own good. Maybe I was opinionated and energetic and maybe I was even a little bit of a show off. There were worse things a girl could be.

Millie followed me up the stairs to our building, swiping her ID card to gain our entry before we parted ways at the elevator. Millie lived on the 3rd floor, ditching me for the stairs as I watched the screen above the elevator count down from the fifth floor and finished the last bite of my granola bar.

When the doors opened, Harry stood inside, his hair somewhat messy and his black t-shirt looked more wrinkly than it had earlier. Perhaps he’d just finished banging my roommate before heading to his own flat.

“Hi,” I said through a full mouth, his eyes meeting mine as he stepped out. For a minute, it almost seemed like he was going to walk away without even speaking a word, but as I stepped into the elevator--my back to him--he spoke.

“Y’know--Niall is kind of a wanker,” he said suddenly, turning on his feet to face me.

I stared at him for a minute and swallowed, completely unsure of how to respond. “What makes you think that?”

He let out a breathy sigh and rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “I just know him, s’all.”

“Well, I’ll be the judge of his character,” I told him, crossing my arms in front of my chest as he stuck a foot in the crack of the elevator to keep the door from closing. Why was Harry Styles not running away from me as quickly as possible? Why was Harry Styles keeping the elevator on the ground floor?

“Are you--like--interested in him?”

He stared at me curiously, his eyes scanning over my face as I did the same to him. Sure--Niall might be attractive and funny--but the answer to his question was no, I’m not. But those weren’t the words that came out of my big mouth.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Maybe.” Did it bother him? If that was the case, I was definitely interested in Niall.

He let out a quiet scoff before shaking his head. “Have a good night, Harper.” He removed his foot from the door and turned, pushing open the main door and stepping into the night air as the elevator beeped it’s loud bell--warning me that if I didn’t press a button it would only become more angry.

I leaned forward and smacked the button for my floor, letting a sigh escape my lips. I didn’t know what bothered more: the fact that Harry seemed to have an opinion on my dating life despite the fact that he couldn’t tolerate me, or the fact that I’d finished the granola bar.

**

When I woke the next morning, Quinn was already awake and doing some form of yoga in the space between our beds. Her mat was rolled out and she had headphones in, presumably listening to some kind of nature sounds bullshit as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth.

She pulled out her headphones when I stretched.

“Morning,” she smiled at me, her hair was pulled back into a perfect ponytail. “Want to head to the dining hall when I’m done?”

I reached for my phone and opened it to a text from Millie, who had asked me the same question. “Sure,” I said. “Millie’s gonna tag along.”

She smiled and leaned over to roll up her mat before grabbing clothes from her closet to change into. Quinn had a passion for athleisure--you know, yoga clothes that you wear out in public so everyone knows you do yoga.

I hopped out of bed after texting Millie and found the baggy sweatshirt that permanently lived on my desk chair--pulling it over my head before I searched for a pair of leggings. After a few minutes of Quinn swiping on another layer of mascara, there was a knock on the door.

Quinn pulled it open, greeting Millie with her straight white teeth as she stepped aside to let her in. “Katie and Preston’s party was pretty good, no?”

“Yeah,” Millie shrugged, leaning against Quinn’s bed as I pulled my hair into a bun. The best thing about Saturdays at London Met was the pancake bar in the North dining hall and the fact that everyone--minus Quinn--looked just as hungover as I was.

We headed out of our room and into the elevator, riding it down before bracing for the fall wind outside.

“So I saw you talking with Niall Horan last night,” Quinn smirked at me as we walked. Despite the fact that Quinn was also wearing leggings and a zip up jacket, she looked much more put together than myself or Millie. “He’s definitely cute!”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “I don’t know, he’s not really my type.”

“That’s rubbish,” Quinn laughed, throwing her head back and letting her ponytail bounce behind her. “He’s cute and smart and he’s on the footy team.”

He’s not Harry, though.

“He’s a player,” Millie defended for me as she walked beside us. “He’s slept with probably half of the girls in our year.”

“Oh come on,” Quinn giggled. “Afraid he’s got more experience than you?”

You see, maybe I had a reputation of being a flirt. Maybe there were guys that thought I’d hook up with them easily--but what Quinn (and the rest of London Met, minus Millie) didn’t know, is that Harper Coleman was still a virgin.

Millie, who’s mind went to the same place as mine, looked up at me with wide eyes. I shot her a look as if pleading for help, but she shook her head, almost as if to say you’re on your own.

“No,” I shook my head, willing to let Quinn believe my reputation. “I just don’t know if I could see us together.”

Because I’m in love with your boyfriend.

She left it at that, sticking her head into her phone as we walked to the dining hall. Once inside, she headed straight for the omelet station. Millie--a carb lover like myself--joined me as we waited in line for pancakes.

“Are you ever gonna tell people that you’re not as experienced as they think?” She mocked Quinn’s words, rolling her eyes at the thought.

I held a plate to my chest as I moved up in line. “Not now, that’s for sure. And who cares? What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Millie groaned. “Remember before Preston and Katie started dating at the party before spring break last year? Preston told us he’d heard that you’d slept with four different guys on the football team!”

I bit my lip. I had no clue how the rumors got spread--I could count on one hand the guys that had gotten past first base here at London Met--and I could count on one hand the guys at home, as well. And the rumor wasn’t exactly that I was sleeping around, it just somehow got spread that I had spent a few nights with a few different guys.

Millie was much more worried than I was--I had long accepted the notion of people thinking things about me that weren’t true. When you grew up in a small town and with a neighbor like Harry Styles--who told everyone in year 3 that I kissed a frog--you just kind of got over that type of stuff.

When it was my turn in line, I got my pancakes, loaded them with butter and syrup (one of the most American meals they served on campus) and headed to find Quinn with Millie in tow. Of course, she was sat near the window with Harry beside her.

He looked up when I set my plate down but didn’t say anything.

“Those look good!” Quinn eyed the pancakes on my plate as she forked a bite of omelet into her mouth. Harry had a pancake and an omelet--but his pancake lacked syrup.

“Good morning, Harold,” Millie greeted with a stern tone.

Millie and Harry’s relationship was an interesting one. Harry definitely found her annoying--I think that just came with the territory of being my best friend. Despite that, however, Harry always seemed more interested in speaking with Millie than he did with me.

I’d gotten used to not taking it personally, but whenever Harry responded pleasantly to my friend, I was left with a pang of jealousy in my stomach.

“Good morning, Mildred,” he smirked.

Millie rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. “I take my back greeting,” she said matter-of-factly.

Quinn decided to fill us in on a paper she had to write this week--informing us that she’d need us all to not distract her. Harry mumbled some kind of sweet reassurance that I tried to block out as I ate--mindful to not chew with my mouth open (an awful habit I’d been trying to break my whole life).

Millie eventually got up for seconds, leaving me alone with the future Mr. and Mrs. Styled as they discussed what they wanted to do for their 8 month anniversary that was coming up in a few weeks.

“Movies and dinner is so typical, Harry!” Quinn cooed, earning a death stare from me as I finished off my breakfast.

“Well then you need to pick something, Quinnie!” Harry smiled at her, causing my insides to knot up.

“You could always go to a heavy metal concert,” I suggested, knowing neither of them would be remotely interested. “I heard Barron’s Landing has a good line up next month.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to his plate as Quinn let out a laugh, clearly missing the lack of entertainment in my voice.

Just then, as if the universe was in need of a good laugh, Niall slid into Millie’s empty seat with a grin on his face. “Well good morning, Harper.”

“Hello,” I bit out slowly, instantly feeling Harry tense across from me. He looked up at his friend and offered a smile before taking another bite of his food.

“Listen,” Niall said. “I know we were interrupted last night by my dear friend Harry, so maybe we could get dinner one night this week?”

I looked up at Harry, shocked by both Niall’s accusation and his proposition. Harry kept his eyes on his plate, and Quinn looked eagerly between me and Niall.

“Uh, sure, Niall,” I smiled and nodded at him, pulling my eyes away from Harry. “That would be great.”

“Perfect!” He smiled, standing from the table. “I’ll text ya and we can set somethin’ up!” He disappeared into the array of tables beside us, finding his way back to where he sat with other members of the football team.

“What was that about?” Millie appeared, her plate restocked with a new pancake as she sat where Niall had been.

“She’s going on a date with Niall,” Quinn chirped, flashing us her perfect teeth as she snaked an arm through Harry’s. “How exciting!”

“What?” Millie looked at me with wide eyes, almost blowing my cover. “I mean, that’s...great,” she shrugged, offering a forced smile as she looked from me and then to Harry. “You’ve been eyeing him for weeks,” she lied, catching on quickly to the scheme that was unfolding in my head.

“Alright, that’s excessive,” I waved a hand at her, urging her to stop talking.

Harry--who seemed completely unphased by the entire situation--pulled out his phone and began scrolling through facebook. In an attempt to gauge his displeasure, I let out a sigh.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date. I’ll have to find a new outfit,” I smiled at Quinn, knowing my words would excite her.

“Oh my gosh,” she clapped her hands together. “We can totally go shopping or you could borrow something from me, of course!”

Millie let out a laugh. “Her ass will never fit in your trousers.”

“Thank you, Mildred,” I said loudly, hoping to let Millie know how unnecessary her remark was. If it wasn’t already clear to the entire world, I had an ass.

Boys in secondary school were always talking about it, even when I would wear a skirt to try to hide the breadth of my bum. While there could be worse things in the world--an exceptionally large ass was not one of the things you wanted everything talking about.

Harry let out a snort at our conversation, a smirk on his mouth as he looked up at me. “We were all thinking it,” he shrugged.

“Fuck you,” I retorted, pointing my fork at him. “I will tell everyone on this campus about the time you pissed your pants when Gemma and Tierney made us watch that horror movie.”

With that, he took another bite of his food and went back to pretending I didn’t exist.

**

I sat on the counter while Millie mopped the floor--it was almost closing time on Wednesday night, and the student center was pretty quiet. Most people were either in the dining hall, in their dorms, or at practice for their sports team.

Millie and I, naturally, were closing up The Counter and hoping that we’d make it to the dining hall in time to get some beef wellington before the entire football team showed up and took the last servings.

“I don’t know if I should go,” I told Millie, watching as she maneuvered the mop back and forth by my feet.

“What do you mean you don’t know if you should go? It’s Niall, he’s been in love with you forever. Just go,” she ordered. “It will be fun.”

“That’s what you think--you’re not the one who’d be going on a date with a friend of the guy she’s pining after.” I used my thumb to scratch at a stain on my apron.

“If it’s bad you don’t have to go on a second date,” she stopped mopping and looked up at me. She adjusted her glasses on her nose and put her hands on her hips. “Just go. I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

“I know,” I sighed, letting my shoulders slump before I slid off the counter. I hopped down onto my feet and sidestepped the wet spot that Millie had been focusing on. I made my way to the register, just about ready to lock it when Millie came up behind me.

“You know,” she said suddenly, clearly deep in thought. She brought a hand up to scratch at her chin. “If you’re right, if Harry really doesn’t want you to date Niall--maybe dating Niall will make Harry realize he loves you.”

I stared at her straight faced, waiting for her to laugh. She held it in for a minute, but eventually she exploded with laughter and bent forward to clutch her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she wheezed. “It’s not funny. Harry should love you.” She said with a nod.

“Yeah, yeah, have your laugh.” I said with an eye roll. “You won’t think it’s so funny when you’re madly in love with someone and they don’t love you back,” I told her confidently, using both hands to gather my curly hair into a low ponytail. The heat in the student center always made my hair much bigger that it was. Tonight was no exception.

“Harper,” Mille said, a tone of seriousness now present in her voice. I smiled slightly at the way she pronounced my name. You’d think--after fourteen years in England--that I’d be used to my name being pronounced as Hahpah, but whenever someone said it seriously, I couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it sounded.

“You’ll never find true love if you keep daydreaming about your neighbor,” she informed.

I pressed a button on the cash register, popping out the tray so I could collect the cash. “Yeah, I know,” I said simply. I was hoping that Millie’s lecture would be short lived. Of course, I was wrong.

“I know he’s dreamy and amazing and all that jazz,” she smiled at me. “But there are plenty of fish in the sea. You just have to go for a swim.”

**

My date with Niall--much to my own dismay--was actually pretty good. He brought me to a burger place where I could get ‘American food’--as he called it--and we headed to walk through a local park afterwards.

Niall was funny--this was no news to me. I’d had a class with Niall during our first year, and despite his being a year older than us, he was always nice and never embarrassed to sit next to me in class.

He had an appetite that matched mine, luckily, because as far as I was concerned, my biggest turn off was I guy I could out eat.

We’d been walking back towards campus when my phone rang. Tierney’s name flashed on my screen, and as much fun as I was having, I told Niall I had to take it.

I stepped away, leaving him standing on the sidewalk, and brought the phone to my ear.

“Bad timing,” I said into the phone, hoping that Tierney realized it was prime date time. Friday night in London? Practically everyone with a heartbeat was out and about trying to score for the night.

“Hello to you too,” Tierney’s voice sounded.

My older sister--who was equally as loud mouthed as I was--worked in London as an editor, I think that’s why she thought she was smarter than everyone. If you think about it, it was actually all Tierney’s fault that I was in this predicament.

If Tierney hadn’t befriended Harry’s older sister, Gemma, I would never be in love with Harry in the first place.

“What’s up?” I asked, kicking at the sidewalk with my brown boot. “I’m kind of on a date.”

“You’re on a date? Did Harry break up with that girl, Quaker?”

“Quinn,” I corrected her, and despite the fact she annoyed me, it was nice to speak with another American. Sometimes my brain got inundated with tea and crumpets and innit? “But no, it’s with someone else.”

“Someone else?” She pried. I looked over to Niall, who was mindlessly on his phone only an earshot away.

“Yes, Tierney. I can’t talk. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she laughed. “I’m sitting here with Gem and we were just wondering what you and Harry were up to this weekend. We figured it’s been a while since a sibling brunch.”

Ah, the infamous Styles-Coleman sibling brunches. Every since Harry and I both moved to London and started Uni, Gemma and Tierney were thrilled to have us all so close together. Gemma and Tierney had also gone to uni together, both earning degrees in journalism. Gemma went the writing route and Tierney for editing.

Luckily--for their own sakes--they decided to not live together after they graduated. I think living with your best friend and doing everything with them qualified you for the ‘crazy cat lady’ title even if you didn’t own any pets. Gemma and Tierney both had two.

“Uh, sure, Sunday?”

“Works for us,” she said into the phone. I agreed to show up, but the deal was that they had to get Harry on board. If I asked Harry he’d say no, if they asked Harry, he’d begrudgingly oblige.

I hung up, thankful for Tierney and Gemma’s neverending support. I was probably fifteen or sixteen when Tierney let the metaphorical cat out of the bag and told Gemma that I’d been lusting after her brother for years. I was embarrassed at first, but when Gemma claimed she’d long known my secret and that Harry and I were a match made in heaven, I wasn’t so mad that she knew afterall.

Nowadays, both Tierney and Gemma were still rooting for us, even though they knew Harry was the farthest thing from interested in me. I think they kept up the charade just to please me.

I shoved my phone in my coat pocket and headed back towards Niall. “Sorry about that,” I said as I fell into step with him. We turned left to enter the lower side of campus. “My sister was just asking about going to brunch with her friend and with Harry.”

“With Harry?” Niall asked, confusion coming over his face as he looked over at me.

“Yeah, his sister and my sister are best friends.”

“Oh right,” he laughed. “I always forget that you lot grew up together.”

I scoffed. “Me too.”

“He’s kind of hard on you, no?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, climbing up the stairs to the main lawn beside him. “Brotherly love, I guess.”

The words felt awkward coming out of my mouth. People often equated Harry and I to the likes of brother and sister, but they had no idea how false I hoped that to be.

Niall let out a laugh, his fingers brushed against mine. He laced them together, smiling at me as we passed by the dining hall. Niall’s flat, flat 819, was located on the far side of campus in the Pembroke complex owned by London Met. I figured he’d walk me to my dorm before saying goodbye.

For once in the history of London Met, there wasn’t a party on a Friday night. The men’s footy team had a game in the morning, meaning they were all keen on getting a good eight hours before heading up to Oxford in the morning.

As we neared the entrance to my dorm, Niall’s hand still laced with mine, Quinn and Harry appeared on the sidewalk. Quinn--bundled in a jacket that seemed a little too puffy for fall--laughed at something Harry said.

“Speak of the devil,” Niall called out to his friend, waving at them with his free hand.

Harry, who looked up at the sound of Niall’s voice, immediately let his gaze fall on our intertwined hands. “Hey, mate.”

Harry brought his eyes back up to mine, and I swear I could see a falter in his straight face. He knew I’d caught him looking at our hands, and therefore, he pulled Quinn in a little closer to his side.

“What are you two up to?” Quinn smiled, shooting me an awkward wink as she looked between us.

“Just getting back from dinner,” I offered, nuzzling my head against Niall’s shoulder.

Niall--who seemed a little surprised by my action--only let his arm drop from my hand to wrap around my shoulder, allowing me to seek shelter from the cool night.

“That’s nice,” Harry offered, eyeing me closely. “Another member of the footy team, huh, Harper?”

My face fell, and it wasn’t that I was hurt. I was used to Harry making jokes about my supposed sleeping around. Quinn smacked his arm and let out a disapproving sound.

“What can I say?” I let out an awkward laugh. “I guess I have a type.”

Quinn cleared her throat and took a sidestep towards the door, pulling at Harry’s arm. “Well, we’re headed inside, we’ll see you upstairs, Harper?”

“Sure,” I saluted in their direction, thankful for the silence outside when it was just me and Niall.

“What was that about?” He asked, his voice more quiet that I’d ever heard. He watched me closely.

“I told you,” I shrugged and forced a laugh. “Brotherly love?”

“Not that,” he shook his head. “His comment about guys on the footy team.”

Wait. You mean to say that Niall Horan hadn’t heard about my glorious (and fake) sexcapades? I figured that everyone on the footy team probably talked about my too big ass and my numerous nights in their beds...whoever they were.

“You haven’t heard the rumors?” I looked at him with wide eyes.

He shook his head.

I let out a quick breath and shrugged. “Somehow, somewhere, a rumor got started that I’ve slept with a bunch of guys on the footy team.”

“Is that true?” he kept his eyes on me.

“Have I slept with you?” I smirked at him.

“No,” he let out a laugh, but I could tell he wasn’t following.

“If I had slept with anyone on the football team it probably would be you.”

Because Harry wasn’t on the football team.

At this Niall laughed, and I was glad he could take a joke. “Oh, Harper,” he said with a smile. “You’re definitely somethin’ else.”

“I know,” I smiled back at him.

When Niall Horan kissed me, I tried my best to be in the moment. I tried to appreciate the fact that a cute guy who was smart and nice was interested in me. But of course, I thought about Harry.

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