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#i still have 3 units left and i have practice exams to do
minbinchan · 2 months
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Fighting! I'm trying to cram for an exam tomorrow morning 😭
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My First Time
Working in the ambulance service, you find there are many first times. First day, first dispatch, first patient, first trauma, first baby, first death and first mistake. As a paramedic, your first cardiac arrest will always stick with you. I remember mine like it happened today, where it was, what the patient looked like, staff that was on scene even the weather. It wasn’t what some would say was traumatic and that’s why i remember it so vividly. Before this I had already seen death a couple of times, it wasn’t something that bothered me to be honest. All the cardiac arrest training you do at university, the repeated scenarios and OSCEs (practical exams) lead to this moment, this is what the ambulance service do, and do well (for the most part). An out of hospital cardiac arrest is as a life and death emergency as you can get (state the obvious).
It was a warm overcast day with rain in the air. I was a frist year student on my first front line placement. At this point I had been in the class room for 6 months and completed a patient transport placement where we just spoke to patients on their way to hospitals and home. The MDT goes off, RED1 - 47 year old female cardiac arrest in a mental health facility. We had just cleared at hospital and were ready to go, the blue lights go on the sirens wailing off we go through the streets making the 3 mile run to the patient who needs us. My first cardiac arrest in the ambulance service, my mind running through everything we have been taught, DRABC, defibrillation pads, advanced airways, cannulation, drugs, reversible causes 4H’s 4T’s (below), End-Tidal Carbon Dioxide (ETCO2) readings etc.
As we arrive there is already a FRU/RRV (fast Response Unit/Rapid Response Vehicle) and another DCA (Double Crewed Ambulance) on scene. We entered the hospital, lead by a member of staff and made our way into the lift and up 1 floor. Out of the lift we turn right through a keycard entry door and into a corridor with our patient located second room on the right. As we entered the corridor the rhythmic tones of the defibrillators metronome fill the air, tick tick tick tick ventilate, ventilate tick tick tick……… when we arrived clinically everything had been done, the patient was intubated being bagged with a good ETCO2 reading, cannulation and drugs had been given, reversible causes assessment was just starting to be conducted now that advanced life support was up and running. I got on the chest doing chest compressions on the patients left side, listening to the metronome tick tick tick instructing me on the speed of my compressions. 1,2,3,4,5…..25,26,27,28,29,30 Pause - VENTILATE, VENTILATE and back on the chest for another round. 5 rounds time to reassess the patients cardiac rhythm we all look at the defibrillators screen - sinus rhythm a 3 point pulse check (carotid, Femoral and distal) no pulse, damn PEA (pulseless electrical activity). I have a break and a colleague takes over on the chest. They do 2 minutes time for a rhythm check. Again PEA damn! And I’m back on the chest. As I’m doing chest compressions I look into the patients eyes. It was a strange image, one that’s hard to explain. i could see there was no one there, no light, just emptiness. She had hazel coloured eyes but behind them. Nothing. 20 minutes of ALS (Advanced Life Support) and no changes still PEA. We decide to convey to the nearest hospital with ongoing resuscitation attempts.
I was stood up in the back carrying on chest compressions no on her right side. We go a little to quick around a right hand bend and I loose my balance I fall backward and try to grab the hand rest in the bed I missed and caught the patients arm, as I’m falling my hand move closer to the cannula so I leave go. I smack my head on the side door hand rail. Ouch. Doesn’t matter back to it, back on the chest 1&2&3&4…….. no sense no feeling. We arrive at A&E (Accident & Emergency) and start taking her in. I’m still on the chest as we walking in, trying to keep up with the trolley and keep going with the chest compressions. As we enter the hospital via the ambulance entrance my phone goes off. My ringtone is the men behaving badly theme, as ringtones go in that moment it’s not the worst and not the best, being that we were an all male crew with a female patient. We go into resus and there’s a full team of doctors and nurses waiting for us. A nurse asks if I’m alright on the chest. I’m knackard I reply. Ready brace slide and the patient is over onto the hospital bed and the hospital staff take over. Shortly after arriving and blood tests come back the lead consultant decides any further attempts would be futile and declares the patient life extinct. Throughout, I never did think we would get her heart beating again. Just from looking into her eyes, in that moment I knew there was no coming back, a shame really. As cardiac arrest go, this went quite well, we done everything we could to gain a positive outcome. The background we had was that she had gotten sectioned the day before and started complaining of chest pain. I have no idea what the actual cause of death was, it’s not something we commonly get told unfortunately.
Although I have gone into a lot of detail, all the cardiac arrests I go to I remember vividly. I don’t really know why, I have always had a photographic memory with random things throughout my life, nothing of any use though. In a way it’s good, we meet patients for a short period of time on their lives, often it’s the worst time of their lives. We often find out the patients date of birth, date of death, 01/01/1941-06/07/2022 but what’s the dash in between. What has that person done between those dates that lead to this moment, that’s the important bit, maybe me remembering every cardiac arrest I’ve gone to, is my subconscious way of keeping their memory alive, just like the film Coco. Who knows.
Reversible causes in cardiac arrest
4H’s
Hypo/hyperkalemia
Hypovalemia
Hypoxia
Hypothermia
4T’s
Tamponade (cardiac)
Toxins
Tension pneumothorax
Thrombosis
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gwendolynlerman · 2 years
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1/100 days of productivity
I'm restarting this challenge to keep me accountable throughout the summer vacation, which hasn't actually started yet because I still need to twitch some details in my thesis and present it at the end of July, but I already finished my internship and classes.
My language goals for this summer are the following (in order of importance):
to continue to study for the HSK 3 exam that I'm taking on July 16 (only one unit left from the Standard Course textbook; I'm only doing one unit a week plus 5 minutes a day on SuperTest)
to review and to resume actively learning Russian with some new resources I found (started today, but I've been using Mango Languages everyday since I came back from my semester abroad more than a year ago, so I haven't completely neglected the language and I have actually made quite some progress, because I can now understand almost everything I read and a lot of what I heard in a few YouTube videos I watched recently)
to dabble in Swedish on Duolingo (started a few weeks ago; I learn a new lesson or skip two levels each day)
Today I completed half of a unit from my Mandarin textbook and did some Russian exercises related to physical appearance, nationalities, and adjectives.
How I missed writing in cursive! I normally hate writing in capital letters, but I'd write in all caps in Russian if I could.
I also rewatched the Rubinrot and Saphirblau movies in German and French, respectively, because I couldn't find the second one in German and rather than watching it in plain ol' English, I decided to passively practice my French skills. I was pleasantly surprised that I understood everything in German without needing subtitles.
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realtalk-tj · 1 year
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i have a b+ in bc rn and it's been a real struggle lol (started out with a rlly bad grade lol). any advice on how bring it up to an a- esp since the class is only based on test grades and is ending in march w/ final in april? currently i do all the 30 page packets and textbook true & false)
Response from Padma:
Congrats on bringing up your grade!! I can definitely relate to you because I had a horrible grade in first quarter that made me consider dropping down to AB until I was able to slowly bring it up 😭It seems like you've figured out how to study - from what I've seen, the trick to getting the last couple of points on the tests is just about mindset - it's so easy to make a few silly mistakes on a test and all of a sudden you're down 10 points :( What I've done to help with this is just practicing from a different lens. At a certain point, you know the material well enough that application becomes the tricky point. What I do is I solve through a couple of problems from each lesson and then go back once I'm done with all of them and see common mistakes I've made, and work from there. In addition, I've started writing one-page "cheat sheets" before every test that really help on just the memorization side.
Also, don't worry, we still have 5 tests left! (2 cumulatives + 3 tests and I think there might be another post AP exam unit? not super sure) You definitely have time to bring up your grade, just work with your teacher and you've got this!! Gl anon!
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1kook · 3 years
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ZOOM CALL
⇢ meeting one
jeon jungkook x (f) reader
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⇢ series masterlist
summary: In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: jk is a ditzy lil nerdy sweetheart, college crushes, social distancing -_-, use of the zoom app, 1kook Builds a Healthy Relationship (Version 2.0) ratings: M (18+) wc: 3.2k
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notes: well. here we are. as always i have to thank common sense (coincidentally named rumu @kigurumu​ ) for reading this over and pointing out little details <3 after much deliberation, i have decided to post our beloved zoom jk (see origin story here) in the form of short ‘drabbles’ depicting diff zoom calls with this being The Beginning™️ so please... bare with me </3 ty to all the nice ppl who have been excited for this, luv u very much 🥺
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There are times in human history where words captivate their audience; times when single words or phrases wrap around the listener, melt into their bones and radiate warmth from within. But rarely does one word manage such an impact, rarely is it as revered and as cherished as the word cancelled is to most college students. 
Class is cancelled, group meetings are cancelled, the stupidly big semester final project was cancelled. You could cancel nearly anything, and in most cases, it would be beautiful. Cancelled meant more time to sleep in the morning, an afternoon free of pesky project partners, a pleasant reprieve from having to socialize with anyone. It was a glorious word with heavenly connotations that brought tears of joy to your eyes whenever you saw it appear in an email preview.
Except this one.
Spring Semester 2021: On-Campus Classes CANCELLED — Social Distance Measures as per State Regula…
Your last semester as a student in university… online? You couldn’t believe it. All these years of studying rigorously, cramming for exams, attaining a near perfect GPA— just to sit in your bedroom and stare at your computer screen for the last 15 weeks of classes? Had your friends not been there to mope with you, you’re certain a part of you would have gone on a rampage and cursed every bacteria known to mankind for doing this to you.
It was your last year, you whined in private (never in public; your friends had always considered you the mature one, the studious friend who kept everyone in order), yet here you were, setting up your desk for your last ever first day of classes with quite possibly the biggest pout on your face.
Zoom, your school had raved in an email a few weeks into the break, the desktop application that will keep us united in these trying times! As if, you huffed, giving the stupid application permission to connect to your computer’s camera and audio systems. What even was proper Zoom etiquette? Did you have to enter the meeting and greet every student cheerfully? You had always said hi to your classmates before, but something about saying it over a computer mic felt awkward.
The feeling doubled when you finally entered the meeting, only to be met with a sea of black screens save for your professor, who seemed to be clicking around his computer in a rather confused fashion. This was going to suck, you thought bitterly.
You had entered the room ten minutes earlier because, well, you always showed up to class a few minutes earlier than the scheduled meeting time. But was there any point to doing that here? Usually, the time before class was spent making small talk with said classmates, discussing the readings or the assignments, talking mindlessly about whatever came to mind. But something in your gut said it would be weird to do that now.
So you sit in silence for the next ten minutes, nervously tapping your pen against your desk as you wait for the professor to launch into whatever introductory monologue he had planned. You toy with your phone, scrolling through your twitter feed only to see a brigade of tweets from students all over the nation suffering the same fate as you. It was a trending topic.
Two minutes before the class starts, you hear the tell-tale ping of someone entering the meeting. You wave it off just like you have your other 41 classmates thus far, but then there’s the clearing of a throat, and a sweet, “good morning” filtering through your speakers. Lifting your head from the hunched over position you had assumed while glancing at your phone, you’re startled by the sudden handsome face that appears before you.
In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window.
He’s nothing short of a dreamboat, soft and doughy cheeks that catch the hue of the screen light, highlighting his cheekbones in a faint blue color. Imploring doe eyes blinking widely at the screen as he clicks around, narrating his confusion in a low mumble (mic still on, how cute). Dark hair— was it brown? black? the pixelated screen made it hard to tell —messily pushed away from his face.
And his voice, oh his voice. It matches his gentle appearance perfectly. A soft snort. “Am I the only one here?” he says, thin lips pulled to the side in a bashful grin.
The professor laughs with him. “No, but you are the only one with your camera on,” he responds.
You’re not sure if it’s the professor’s teasing jab at literally everyone else or the need to support the cutie who smiles softly at screen, but suddenly, a handful of windows come to life. Your classmates fill up the screen, dressed in an array of styles with bedrooms (and, on the rare occasion, dorm rooms) to match. You nibble at your bottom lip, finger hovering over the button that will expose your appearance to the rest of your classmates
Eventually, the wordless peer pressure, the need to be a good student, and the supportive face of Jeon Jungkook (he/him) have you inhaling sharply before dutifully clicking the camera on. Your face appears on screen, nearly lost in the now overwhelming sea of faces. You’re one of the last ones to turn your camera on, both pages of your zoom meeting participant windows filled with the contrasting images of your classmates joining from their bedrooms. The professor claps in delight, and finally dives into the mandatory first day of classes spiel.
Syllabuses, group work, asynchronous lectures. You’ve heard these words all before, have practically memorized this class’s syllabus like the back of your hand. The pros of being an overachiever. The cons are, however, that you think every question your classmates ask is stupid. Read the syllabus, you want to scream. But it’s the first day of class. You don’t even know who your assigned study group partners (as mentioned in the syllabus) are and you certainly don’t want them to dislike you so soon. They can do that after the third meeting, but not today.
You’re not entirely surprised when your attention drifts away from the professor and the endless sea of stupid questions he’s left to answer. Even when you realize you’ve stopped paying attention, you don’t bother forcing yourself to tune back in. No, instead your focus drifts across the windows of faces.
Some of your classmates are as bored as you, glaring at the screen with disinterest, or glancing off to the side probably at their phones. So you start looking at their rooms, analyzing their decorations and posters as if you’re a professional critic on some house design show.
Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in a rather plain dorm room. Plain light gray walls— or maybe it’s white —free of decoration. He’s sitting at the provided desk, just like you. The only reason you focus on that is because there’s a multitude of your classmates lazily sprawled across their beds, slumped over a couch. Hardly anyone is sitting at attention like you. Well, except for Jeon Jungkook (he/him). He’s practically exposing the entirety of his living accommodation with the way his camera is set up.
Above eye level, reaching just below his chest, with the room all laid out before you. A neat twin bed, sheets meticulously made. It almost looks like the decorative set at a furniture store with the way the comforter and variety of pillows are placed. He doesn’t seem to be in the crappy dorms you remember, which leaves you wondering where exactly he’s been assigned. You know certain sports clubs get fancier dormitories. Anyway, there’s a door off the side of the bed, a black guitar standing in the corner just behind it. You wonder what’s behind the camera, if maybe his desk is as organized as the rest of his room. Maybe his closet is his weakness, you muse, imagining poor Jeon Jungkook (he/him) with a tornado of a closet. But the thought doesn’t make that much sense, so you discard it quickly.
Anyway, his dorm room. It’s neat and orderly, makes you tilt your head curiously as he swivels from side to side before you. As for himself, he’s dressed in a plain white sweater, hoodie strings perfectly even. His hair has long since fallen over his forehead, but he’s pushed it over this time in a fluffy side part. He was adorably soft.
He’s paying attention to the professor like he genuinely treasures every word that comes off his tongue, nodding along understandingly. He’s even got a pencil in hand, leaning forward every few seconds to scribble something down hurriedly. Not like this is all on the syllabus or anything, you think.
But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s dispelled just as fast. He’s only trying to be a good student, you scold yourself, feeling oddly mean for wanting to make fun of this sweet boy. Especially when he raises his hand a second later and asks the first good question of the day. Something about the grading scale for group projects and how much is determined by the group members themselves. You’re not too sure, the words get a little fuzzy when he starts speaking and his pink lips pull down into an endearing pout.
A couple minutes later and your professor finally wraps up the questions, telling everyone to email him if any other questions arise throughout the semester. Just as you’re sighing in relief, he utters those dreaded words: “Ice-breakers!” he exclaims, and the whole class grimaces, much to his amusement. He says something about feeling the excitement through the screen, but then changes gears. “Since it’s a little hard to talk to your neighbor, I’m going to test out the Breakout Rooms and see how that works, okay guys?”
You frown. Breakout Rooms? What on earth was that? Like most of your classmates, this is pretty much your first rodeo with the Zoom application. He was sending you all into small groups, where? The answer presents itself a few seconds later, a message box appearing on your screen.
The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 4
Your professor is still chattering in the background when you nervously accept the invitation, his voice suddenly cut off as your computer jumps to a new loading screen. It takes a while before you’re suddenly dumped into a new room. And then you’re staring at your own face, blown up on your own screen in a rather uncomfortable way. Jeez, did you really look like this?
As soon as you get to picking at your appearance, your mirrored reflection jumps to the side, once, then twice more to fit the three new guests in your room. Silence fills your bedroom as you and your classmates all stare at each other nervously for a couple seconds, unsure of what to say. This was, after all, your first meeting.
Just as you’ve gathered all your courage to click your microphone on, the screen jumps around once more and suddenly Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in your Breakout Room. Immediately, his surprised face melts into the most reassuring grin you’ve ever seen, and he’s practically jumping forward to turn his mic on.
“Good morning, everyone,” he says, smooth and low. It’s like the awkward tension melts away under the pressure of his pretty smile, your classmates responding back with polite hellos and good mornings to him. You barely get yours in before Jeon Jungkook (he/him) starts talking again. “So… how are you guys?”
His words, sweet and caring as they are, send the five of you into a rather mindless conversation. Talking about nothing really, just whatever comes to mind about the class, about the semester, about the remote learning. Then Jungkook— “just Jungkook is fine!” he tells the other four of you with that same too pure look on his face after someone refers to him by his whole name —starts talking about some movie he had seen on Netflix the other day, something his friend recommended to him. Truthfully, you have zero interest in the type of plot he is describing, and you can tell some of the other people in your group don’t either. But he’s absorbed in his storytelling, features lit up as he details every last plot point of the film like his life depends on it. There’s a wordless agreement to let him ramble on.
By the time Jungkook has finished his novella recapture of whatever movie he was talking about, a green message bubble appears at the top of your screen. It’s a message from your professor, who is telling you the small group meeting will end in a few more minutes.
“Aw, that sucks,” Jungkook laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. And then, “oh! We haven’t answered our icebreaker question yet!”
Ah, yes. The reason for this small group was to get to know each other, not for Jungkook to recount an entire two hour movie for you all. “Oh, right,” you agree, probably the first words you’ve said in the past five minutes. You navigate to the chat box, where your professor had hastily dumped the question before sending you all off. “What’s one thing you miss most about being on campus?” you read aloud, glancing back at the screen.
Your group mates are all in various states of blissful comfort, the gaps of their nervousness smoothed over by Jungkook’s bubbly personality, and the hesitation they’d shown at the beginning is practically gone. Someone steps forward and says something about the campus dining hall. Jungkook laughs, loud and airy, claps his hands all cute too. Someone else says the library because it was a good place to study. There’s a lull and you jump in quickly. “I think I’ll miss the couches by the gym in the student center the most,” you confess, though you doubt anyone knows which ones you mean. They were a set of brightly colored couches tucked into a cranny behind the Starbucks just outside the campus gym, avidly avoided by the gym rats who were determined to ignore the sugary drinks and snacks.
Apparently, the hiding spot isn’t as secretive as you thought. “Oh, the ones by the Starbucks?” Jungkook exclaims, excitedly looking at his screen. You have this fluttery feeling that he’s looking at you for the first time. You nod, and he quite positively beams. “I love those!”
“Yeah, I spend a lot of time there,” you say, though it’s a little stilted because you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to react to Jungkook’s enthusiasm. Though his outgoing personality cloaks you in comfort, his pretty smile has your heartbeat acting a little funny.
Jungkook’s got these huge eyes, blinking owlishly at you. “Really? So do I!” And then you both seem to have the same realization. His head tilts to the side cutely, an amused smile on his face, “I’ve never seen you there.”
“I’ve never seen you there,” you shoot back, a little snarkier than necessary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. His smile turns goofy.
“Woah,” he says in a rather dreamy tone, “isn’t that so cool? We spent so much time in the same place, but never crossed paths before,” he babbles. He’s stopped looking at his computer, leaning back in a sort of dazed manner with this sparkly look to his eyes, much to everyone’s amusement. Except yours, because frankly, it sounds a little bit like he’s describing— “fate!” he says suddenly, like it’s truly an aha! moment. He pauses, taps his finger against his chin. “Or anti-fate? I’m not sure. But it’s like— we could’ve met so many times before and we didn’t.” Doe eyes return to the screen, flickering around until they presumably land on you again. “What do you think, __?”
And he’s just so cute, makes the rigid shield around your chest soften for the slightest moment as you nod meekly. “Uhh, yeah. Fate,” you agree, and then get to hear him laugh and giggle for about three seconds before you’re suddenly thrown back into the larger Zoom meeting.
Weirdly flustered, you hurriedly click your microphone back off, and nearly contemplate the camera too. But then the professor is asking you all to share what you talked about and you’re resigning yourself to a few more minutes of screen time while the class wraps up. By the looks of it, not everyone had as an enjoyable time as you did. Part of you is thankful you didn’t get stuck in an awkward small group. The other part recognizes wholeheartedly that it’s all thanks to one smiley boy at the bottom of your screen.
“And group 4?” the professor asks, and you blink yourself back into attention. Before you can unmute yourself and answer for your group, Jungkook is beating you to it.
“We talked about a lot of things,” Jungkook answers cheerfully. From your view, you get a front row seat to the sheer power of Jungkook’s magnetic personality, watching as all your listless classmates suddenly snap back from their daydreams to zero in on whatever Jungkook is saying. He fills in the professor about what you talked about, from the movies to the couches, and you feel weirdly mushy when his eyes flicker across the screen before settling with a soft smile.
He can’t possibly be looking at me, you tell yourself. Your hand jerks forward to turn the camera off, but in your haste, end up knocking down the water bottle on your desk. You scramble to straighten it, thanking the universe for the fact you actually remembered to screw on the cap. You glance back at the screen, and nearly die when you catch sight of a giggly Jungkook, smile hidden behind an adorable sweater paw as he laughs at something on screen. Oh no, was he looking at me? you panic.
“Alright, everyone,” your professor says in that “I’m about to wrap this class up” voice. Too close to the screen, voice a little too loud. “Good meeting today, I’ll see you all again on Wednesday. Stay safe.”
“Bye!” Jungkook sings sweetly, and everyone else follows as they all bid adieu to the professor. Still a little frazzled from the possibility that Jungkook may have watched you flail around like a total loser, you take a second longer to turn your mic on. Your classmates quickly leave the meeting, leaving only a few stragglers until the very end.
Surprisingly, Jungkook is here too, brown eyes focused on the screen. You unmute yourself. “Um,” you stammer, eyes unwillingly flickering over to Jungkook who smiles at the sound of your voice. “Goodbye. Thank you,” you rush out, and then quickly leave the meeting as well.
With the meeting over, you’re left staring at the home page of the Zoom app, heart beating a little too fast to be normal. Your face feels warm, and your fingers tremble from some unfamiliar, giddy feeling in your chest. You exhale slowly, hand coming up to rub at your chin as if that will somehow explain the weird excitement from your Zoom meeting. Maybe it was just adrenaline, or nervousness, you try to convince yourself. After all, the first day of classes is always nerve-wracking.
Except when you navigate to your class page and begin to mindlessly scroll through the class roster, there’s a weird stutter to your heartbeat when you catch sight of that Jeon Jungkook (he/him) that appears halfway down the list.
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Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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kkusuka · 3 years
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Anatomy lessons <3 
ushijima wakatoshi x reader 
genre: smut 
synopsis: ushijima is helplessly devoted to volleyball, and his grades reflect that. 
cw: anatomically fem reader, vaginal fingering, blowjob (i think that’s it, if anything seems left out let me know!)
a/n: all i could think about is that ushiwaka is canonically stupid and i love that. 
based o this request: Studying anatomy and using your body as a physical map- Ushijima ((smut)) I’ve had this imagine suck in my head about Ushijima but like just picture this, Ushijima and Y/N studying together and they both like each other but Ushi doesn’t know how to act on his emotions and Y/N can’t tell if he likes them so they are just running around in circles pinning for each other, but anyways Ushi is studying for anatomy but he just can’t get the female anatomy to stick into his head and he’s getting a bit frustrated and so Y/N is like well I’m a female, you can practice on me and he’s like well shit. Y/N lays down Ushi is gliding his hands over their body as he names the muscles and whatnot, they both get a bit hot and bothered and when Ushi finishes “studying”he’s got an awkward boner and Y/N is like “now it’s my turn to study your anatomy” and they push ushi down and 🤪🤪🤪 please give this to me I’ve been thinking about it ALL DAY!!! -✨Puppy🤩
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Shiratorizawa’s reputation was built upon intelligence and elegance.
The students are of the highest degree in not only book-smarts but also athletics. Only the most talented and were persons were allowed in the walls of the academy. Hell, the entrance exam resembled an AP college exam.
“I do not understand.”
Of course, there are always loopholes.
The first being an athletic scholarship. One of the more annoying ways to make it into the school, according to the students. You don't mean to sound mean but, it was blatantly obvious when someone is on athletic help.
But that wasn't what you were dealing with right now. No, it was something the students found way worse.  
A recommendation.
Actually, it was an athletic recommendation.
Ushijima Wakatoshi was known before he had even appeared.
You had been the lucky one to sit next to him first, and second, and somehow third year. And through that, you’ve learned more than a few things about him.
Firstly, he was the most amazing volleyball player you have ever seen. He also had so much passion for the sport that it had seemed to rub off on you. By the end of first-year gym class, you knew how to receive a light spike of his.
Second, he was extremely easy to fall in love with. For being constantly aloof and oblivious, he had this pull to him that just roped you in. at first you weren't sure what you felt for the bot, then he had helped you with a project ending the night with a smile and you were done for.
He was also incredibly easy to stay in love with. Once he had your attention he was almost the only person you thought of. Plaguing your mind with fluffy fake dates and worries that he would never like you back.
But he hasn’t said anything for you to believe either of those situations so you sit at a constant stalemate.
And thirdly, he was not only dense but utterly stupid. How was someone so sought after so completely unaware of admiration? Not only his social unawareness, but he was also not the smartest when it came to school.
Then you swooped in, raised his grades a few points, and became his official homework helper. You thought it was a blessing, more time with the man who had your heart, but you underestimated just how much help he needed.
You had no idea how many times you would have to explain the Pythagorean theorem to someone before they understood. (you're sure now that he didn't really understand and he just didn't want to hear it again.)
And anatomy was no exception.
“That’s alright Toshi, do you want to try looking at a different diagram? That might help!”
Opening a new book, you spent another ten minutes staring at the page just looking at it, before staring back up at you. And that's your cue. No more diagrams, he was never going to learn like that.
This was what you called plan visual. somethings, namely science, were better learned but seeing and not memorization.
Letting out a sigh, you closed all of the books and told him to do the same.
“Ok, here’s what’s going to happen.” placing yourself directly in front of the cross-legged man, garnering his full attention, “I'm going to give you an arm and a leg  and, let's start with the skeletal system, so just tell me all the bones you can remember.”
Lending your hand you took it in his and gave you a nod. Going up the length of your arm finishing at your shoulder blade, he moved to run a hand along your un-bending leg. Starting at your ankle he kept a constant hand on the back of your knee, keeping your leg hanging in the air.
A few mixed up bones later you finally moved on to muscles. Not only did it take far longer but you could tell he was getting frustrated, if the hand gripping your thigh as he tried to name all the muscles there was any telling.
On his fifth try, you gave him some help and just decided to move on, seeing that it wasn't needed for him to know blood vessels just yet, there was only one other thing he had to do.
Male and female anatomy.
You had tried to avoid the topic but that seemed almost impossible at the moment.
“Is something wrong Y/n?” As he spoke you became all too aware of his hand still on your thigh and how he was staring right at you like he could tell exactly what you were thinking, “the next topic is the reproductive system correct?”
“Erm, ye-yeah, but we don’t have to-”
“Don't be silly, we have to get through all the material that will be on the test. May I have the textbook to reference from?” he spoke as if he was ordering food, completely nonchalant. As if his hand wasn't reaching into your skirt and sliding your panties to the side.
“This unit does not require the breasts so you can keep your shirt on.” he continued to slide your underwear from your legs flipping your skirt, pushing you onto your back. Maneuvering you to how he wanted, you holding your legs spread open and close to your chest, he got to work.
“The outer lips, formally known as the labia majora,” he spoke as he ran a finger down, spreading them open to e your hole clench around nothing.  He let out a breath and intently stared at your core.
“Labia minora, inner lips.” running another finger along your lips he collected the wetness that had collected on them, bringing it to his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he licked it clean. “A woman creates a natural lubrication to aid in intercourse.”
Deliberately avoiding your clit, he moved to the urethral opening, passing it quickly. Moving to run a hand along your stomach placing where he thought your cervix and womb lay.
“The clitoris, an organ that is completely dedicated to pleasure.” his thumb rubbing small circles around your bud was the final opus for you to let out all the soft whimpers you had so desperately wanted to let out.
Eye’s shooting to meet yours his thumb moved quicker, drawing more pants and wanton moans from your throat.
“Please Toshi, I wanna-”
Your beg must've ripped him away from whatever daydream he lost himself in, roping his thumb away from your clit, a whine escaping you, he moved to his final destination.
“The vaginal hole, where a man enters a woman and makes her his own. It leads straight through the cervix into the womb.” right as he finished two fingers shoved their way into your pussy.
Reattaching his thumb to your clit, he coaxed moan after moan out of you.
Hitting a spot somewhere deep in you, cunt spasming as he rode out you high with slow strokes, “the g-spot, a small area that aids with the female orgasm.”
Taking his fingers to his mouth once more, he watched you let your legs down and close your eyes to help calm your roaring heart. In your bliss, you felt two lips connect to yours, a soft dance between new lovers.
A forehead rested on your hands and ran up and down your sides placing you back into a sitting position.
“y/n?”
“Hmm?”
“We still have one more thing to do.”
Oh right, this lesson was a two-way street.
Crawling to kneel between his crossed legs you palmed his bulge as he leaned back on the chair, bringing his hands behind his head. He watched you take his cock out of its restraints, wrapping your lips around the tip leaning his pre-cum.
He let you pace yourself, don't complain when you came up to explain what you were doing to what.
On the contrary, you could tell all he wanted to do was push your head down and keep it there until his load stuffed your throat. Realizing this was probably the last time you would have control over the boy.
But all seems worth it when he shows you the A+ on the anatomy test.
Maybe Ushijima Wakatoshi is a good student after all.
734 notes · View notes
anyoneseenadam · 3 years
Note
Ahhh can u plz write some fluff with Mor? The fandom is starving AND THANK UUUU 🥰😘😍🤩😛
pairing: Morrigan x reader (acotar)
warnings; kissing and exam stress but asides from that it’s pure fluff :))
a/n: kissing girls man, hits different. this is quite short I’m sorry I have lot’s of study to do but I wanted to get something out! hope you like it <3 (this was also heavily inspired by cmbyn cause I’m re-reading it) 
---------------------------------------------------
“Or are ‘being’ and ‘having’ thoroughly inaccurate verbs in the twisted skein of desire, where having someone’s body to touch and being that someone we’re longing to touch are one and the same, just opposite banks on a river that passes us to them, back to us and over to them again in perpetual circuit.”
“Stop looking at me like that.” You said, not taking your eyes off the page in front of you, the words not quite reaching your brain, and you read the paragraph again. Your neck ached and you could feel the beginning of a headache forming in your temples, the look your girlfriend was giving you from your bed was not helping.
“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ as she stood and walked over to you, slinging her arms over you shoulders and reading the meticulous notes you had been taking, her cheek pressed against your own. “Come to bed baby, you’ve been working all day and you barely slept last night.”
She was correct of course. You had final exams coming up that you had to pass if you wanted to become a qualified teacher but that meant many nights without sleep and without quality time in the arms of your lover. You had stayed up into the early hours of the morning the previous night and were up again to start working at seven. You leaned back into her warm touch, your eyes closing for a second before you forced yourself to concentrate.
“Later, I promise, I just want to finish this chapter,”
“You said that an hour ago,” you laughed and brought her hand to your mouth kissing it before pushing her away, picking up your pen and continuing with your notes. She kissed your forehead before collecting the empty dishes and mugs that were sat next to you, taking them to the kitchen to wash, you zoned out as she left, listening to her move about the kitchen, the domestic sounds soothing your hectic mind. But soon she was back, carrying two steaming mugs and with a bag of your favourite crisps under her arm. She placed everything down, smiling at the pout you had on your face, brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of your notes, your own words confusing you, before walking over to you and closing your book.
“Hey!” you whined as she picked you up, walking you to your bed and placing you down again.
“You’ve been working all day I’m sure you’ll survive,” she muttered, passing you a mug that smelled of chamomile, the relaxing flower making you sigh contentedly as you inhaled it, watching as Mor move around your room, collecting baggy clothes, pillows, and blankets. You loved seeing her like this, she was always beautiful, but when she was only wearing your over sized clothes and with her long hair piled on top of her head, face clean of makeup but glowing, you fell just a bit harder. Her natural beauty was something you almost wished you could frame, something you wanted to keep with you at all times, wishing you could always hold her to your chest tightly, fearful that if you didn’t she may leave.
She wouldn’t though, she was just as enamoured with you as you were with her. You were her sunshine, her angel and since she had first seen you she was filled with a desperate urge to protect that light. You hadn’t even met her family yet, and while she partially felt guilty for that, she simply wanted to keep you as close as she could for as long as she could, her overprotective nature making her want to keep you for herself, like a child with their favourite toy. However the bags under your eyes and your bitten, chapped lips hurt her to see, so she was determined to get her sunshine back, through a practiced method of cuddles and selfcare.
You sipped your tea as she threw an oversized sweater at you followed by your favourite shorts, before moving to the bathroom to do cauldron knows what. You placed your mug on the beaded coaster you kept on your bed side unit and changed into your clothes, before standing and moving to tidy away your books and numerous coloured pens.
“(y/n)!” you heard Mor call in a sing-song voice and you placed your books away, moving to the bathroom where you saw her triumphantly holding the face masks the two of you had impulsively bought from a recent market you went to. You smiled and went to her as she motioned you to sit in the empty bath, you giggled and did as you were told as she followed suit. When you were both sat comfortably, she straddled your waist and tied your hair away from your face gently, with so much love and care you leaned up to press a kiss against her mouth. She reciprocated quickly, lips moving against yours like a well-practiced dance, the two of you working in perfect tandem, tongues moving languidly with one another, neither of you feeling the need to rush. You slid a hand around her the back of her neck as she let a soft whimper into the kiss, making you grinn against her mouth. You had missed this, the feel of her pressed against you, the busy days you had been spending making you forget just how well you worked together, the way your breaths synced, and your limbs never got in the way, both loving the other while simultaneously being the other. Knowing exactly how the other worked. How the other moved, as if you were controlling her and she, you.
Mor pulled away, breathless, cheeks flushed, and you grinned lazily up at her, loving the effect you always had on her.
“I missed this,” she said, kissing your nose gently and gazing at you lovingly, before scooping out the creamy paste, and smearing it over your face.
“I know, I’m sorry but exams are almost over and then I’ll be all yours,” you smiled at her as she finished, wiping her hands on a wet cloth as you took the pot from her hands and massaged it onto her face as well, her sighs music to your ears. When you were finished you both stood and made your way back to your bedroom, curling into each other with your mugs as you asked her about her day.
“Honestly, I don’t know why I put up with them,” she laughed as she told you that her family were all still pestering her to meet you.
“I mean maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing,”
“Spoken like someone who hasn’t met them,” you laughed as she continued, “I mean I only came out a few months ago and I really like having something to myself, I feel like I’ve always had to share with everyone. I don’t know is that selfish?”
“No, I don’t think so. But I’m still going to be yours after I meet them, maybe we should just rip of the plaster. I’m sure none of them are nearly as charming or beautiful as you are anyway.”
“You’re too smart for your own good,”
“Well one of us has to be,” you squealed as her hand’s dugs into your sides, seeking out the points that made you squirm, desperately trying to get out of her grip, empty mugs long forgotten on the floor next to your bed and face masks washed away. You wrestled around as you tried to gain the upper hand, however the highly trained female won with ease, pressing a sloppy kiss on your cheek much to your dismay as she cheered over her victory.
She stared down at you in awe as your eyes sparkled, wondering how she managed to find the most beautiful girl in the world and somehow be lucky enough to be with her. You were in just as much awe, pushing a strand of long, blonde hair behind her ear, huffing a laugh when she nuzzled into your hand before collapsing on top of you, her face nestled in between your breasts, pressing a kiss into the right one and whispering a soft ‘I love you.’
You pulled her hair out of the bun it was in, knowing she would wake up with a headache if it remained up all night and Mor’s heart ached at the subtle display of love, the show of just how much you listened, how well you knew her. You then proceeded to massage her scalp gently as the two of you lay listening to the world moving outside, the distant chatter of people going home on the street below you or the faint music you could hear from a nearby bar lulling you into a trance like state, where the only thing that mattered was your other half, the person you loved and the person you became.
Soon you noticed Mor had fallen asleep and smiled at her cute snores, your hands continued to trail up and down her back as you too slowly drifted into a well-deserved sleep. Your heart easy, and head at peace as you lay with the girl you loved tucked safely in your arms. No one else there to separate your entwined souls. 
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sorryimanon · 4 years
Text
A Bit Stir Crazy: Pt 1
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Summary: You’re bit of a hot head, so is Bakugou. So what happens when the two of you have to quarantine together for 30 days?
Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, sexual tension, inevitable smut, slow burn.
Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader
Spring finally makes it way to the city of Musutafu, which also means spring break is about to commence. There was only two days left of school before the students endure a week break of relaxation and the possibility of illegal drinking. However, the sudden outbreak of a deadly virus isolates you and your best friend of five years , Katsuki Bakugou, to quarantine together. Tensions are high, and so are both of your sex drive.
<<<
It was your second semester here at Hero University, and so far everything was smooth sailing. You’ve been on top of each of your classes, and most of your classmates are pretty much family by now. Of course, no one can replace Kirishima and Katsuki. Those two have been in your life since the second you stepped into Aziwa’s classroom. 5 years of friendship gave them the role of being your protective brothers. Every guy you’ve dated over the past 3 years had to face the wrath of both Kirishima and Katsuki. In most cases, some would find this possessiveness tedious, but you found it quite comforting knowing they are looking out for you. They were also hard on you and your studies, but only because they care for you. Both of them know about your dream of being a combat medic for pro-heroes, considering your energy restoration quirk, so they were extra tough on you.
However, everything came to a halt the day before spring break. You were currently in Advanced Hero History class when the announcement happened. The teacher, mid lecture, put her textbook down and glanced at the speaker above the door.
“Testing...1 2 3... this thing is working right? AHEM, attention students of Hero University, we’ve been told there’s recently been a sudden outbreak of a virus that’s described as deadly as the plaque!” The speakers voice reverberated across the whole academy. He continued,” We want to make sure that everyone is safe and sound and takes precaution of this virus. The board of admissions at HU have decided to cancel classes and all events at the university tomorrow-”
You didn’t get to hear the rest of the announcement. Everyone in the classroom was busy celebrating and screaming at the top of their lungs. Seems like the issue with the deadly virus evaporated immediately. The thought of getting out early for spring break was more important apparently.
Ms.Leech informed the class to still read the assigned chapters and be ready for a test the first day after break.
You quickly shoved everything your messenger bag and made a beeline to the door. The hallways were far from deserted. Usually classes don’t get out at the same time, but today every student occupied the cramped halls in the building.
“Y/N!” Someone yelled amidst the crowd of loud students. You overtly looked around and spotted the all too familiar spiky red hair and angry looking blonde by the exit. You giggled and maneuvered your way over to them.
“Did you hear the announcement! We get an early spring break!” Kirishima giddily said as you guys all walked side by side on the strip to the apartment complex.
“No shit Sherlock, the announcement was broadcasted across the whole school.” Bakugou responded while rolling his eyes.
“I’m so excited though! That means I have more time to study for my exams!” You jumped with excitement.
“Exams? That’s not for awhile you fucking nerd-” Bakugou was cut off when you grabbed a handful of his hair and aggressively pulled it. “YOU SHITTY WOMAN DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!”
-
Spring break flashed by quickly, leaving only a day left before classes begin again. Thankfully, you seem to have checked everything off your list of things  needed to be accomplished during break. The only thing you had left to do was finish your reading for adv.hero history. 
After an endless hour of reading, you decided to make a hot pot of coffee. When you walked into the kitchen of your shared apartment with Kirishima and Katsuki, you noticed a sticky note hanging from the fridge.
It read, 
Went to go pick up Kirishima from the airport. Get take out plz. The usual
-B.
You smiled and immediately dialed the noodle shop to go. Kirishima used his spring break wisely and went to visit an exotic island with his family. He would FaceTime you and Bakugo occasionally telling funny stories about his time on the island. Although the thought never occurred at the time, you now felt like you wasted your spring break doing boring mundane things. Yes you had Katsuki to accompany you, but he was gone most of the time hanging out with his other friends. Which hurt, granted, but you understand that he has other friends besides you. Needless to say, you didn’t do that much “relaxation” during spring break.
Suddenly, your phone started going off on the countertop. Katsuki’s name flashing on the screen. Confused, you answered his call anyway, not thinking much of it.
“Y/N turn on the news now,” His said with urgency.
You didn’t argue back, knowing something is off, and raced to the living room. The tv was already on, so you just changed the channels till it reached the local news station. With the volume at its maximum, you sat still and listened to the news anchor.
“This just in, Japan has issued a nationwide lockdown due to the spread of the deadly virus. We’ve been told to report for all citizens to please stay in your homes till further notice. And as for anyone who has left the country, you’ll be permitted to stay within the country you’ve flown to and wait till further instructions...”
Oh shit
-
“Hey hey guys don’t worry I’ll be fine. I mean, isn’t this great news! We don’t have to go to our scheduled classes till further notice! Plus, I think I can score my shot with the maid here at my hotel for the time being,” Kirishima gloated with pure positivity.
“Baka. You do realize there’s a fucking virus going around right? Not to mention there’s a possibility you could die from it.” Bakugou said, trying to throw some common sense at Kiri.
“Right right right. Yes I do know...but that’s not going to stop me from getting laid bro.”
That was one of the few FaceTime calls you got from Kiri. After the third, he stopped calling all together. You grew worrisome for your best friend. Even though he doesn’t show it, Bakugou was worried sick not hearing from Kiri either.
It’s been 5 days since the initial lockdown. So far, you and Bakugou have been doing each of your usual routines at home. First thing in the morning you always prepared breakfast and read a few chapters from your current book. Bakugo did laundry duty and did the dishes after breakfast. Afternoon was just recreational duties. Both you and Bakugou would reside in your rooms doing whatever to ease off the bordem. Evenings were mainly for eating dinner and watching movies.
However, after 10 days, you couldn’t keep up with the routine anymore. You skipped breakfast and didn’t dare to open up another book. Your bedroom became a reminder on how much you’ve spent cooped up in there. Not to mention how easily angered you’ve become.
One day you got angry at how Bakugou was chewing his food. Usually it never irritated you, but now the sight just made your blood boil.
“Who the fuck taught you how to eat?” You spat abruptly.
“Says the person who forgets to clean the tub after they shave their whole entire jungle of a body,” he retored back.
A faint gasp left your mouth, uaware that you completely forgot to clean the tub last night after your feminine duties.
“Don’t know who you’re trying to look presentable for. It’s not like you got a boyfriend, not with all that hair, tch.” he hit you with one last punch to the gut.
You got up from where you were sitting at and begrudgingly walked to your bedroom, locking it in the process. Not daring to leave your room, you open your laptop and started a movie without Bakugou.
-
Out of all days, day 15 by far was the worst. The air conditioner unit stopped working, causing y’all to wake up with drenched bodies. Your room especially was humid, since you had no access to a window. The colored coordinated folders from your book bag had to suffice, using them as makeshift fans. Eventually your arms grew tired of constantly doing the same motion repeatedly, so you finally left your room in hopes for the living room to be much cooler.
You stopped immediately when you caught a glimpse of Bakugou slumped on the L-shaped couch. Not to mention, he was shirtless as well. Heat flushed to your cheeks, making you glow a crimson red. You couldn’t stop staring at the view in front of you. Yes you’ve seen Bakugou shirtless before. Countless of times in fact. The boys would practically walk naked around the apartment, not caring about how you’d react. You were deemed as one of the guys.
But this time it triggered something within you. Something you haven’t quite felt in a long time. Maybe it was the quarantine getting to your head, but you couldn’t help but to wonder how it would feel to be flushed against his naked chest right now. Or if he was the type to snake his hands around your waist and pull you even closer. The thought excited you for a second, but quickly realized this was Katsuki you were thinking about.
Katsuki shifted uncomfortably in his spot, eliciting a whimper during the process. The noise alone made your lower stomach tense with a warm sensation. This was creepy. Watching Bakugou shirtless while sleeping would surly make him go ballistic, but the sight of sweat glistening on his abdomen made his abs more prominent. An image of you being underneath him kept flashing in your head like picture show. A crude and undeniably satisfying picture show. More explicit thoughts kept trying to barge into your brain. So, you ran back into your room and planted yourself headfirst on the floor. Hopefully these thoughts will go away by tomorrow
The thoughts never went away. In fact, they were the reason you didn’t get any sleep last night. A half naked Bakugou Katsuki kept interrupting your innocent dreams, filling them in with dirty scenarios involving the both of you. You knew you were fucked once you heard the faint sound of Katsukis footsteps in the kitchen. You’ve been up all night, with no pure dream in mind. There’s no saving your sleep schedule now. Maybe if you apologize to Katsuki for acting irrational the other day, the thoughts would go away.
Defeated, you got up from your comfortable bed and treaded into unsafe territory. There sat Bakugo, criss cross on the kitchen island eating cereal. It wasn’t an unusual sight, he was the embodiment of a fucking cat.
“Morning shit head,” you playfully teased.
Bakugou raised his head and looked expectingly at you.
Even just looking him dead in the eye raised the temperature throughout your body. This is going to be a nightmare.
“You alright Y/N? Your whole face is flushed...” He paused, eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re not sick are you? If so, I’m kicking you out. I don’t wanna fucking die because of you”.
How charming.
You scratched the back of your neck. “Uh no Katsuki, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. My behavior towards you was unacceptable. This whole quarantine thing has really made me-”
“Shut up. No need to apologize for some stupid quarrel we got into. Besides, we’ve gotten into worse arguments right?” 
You nodded your head, agreeing to how truthful his statement was. It was true. 5 years of friendship and not one time have you guys stopped being friends because of a heated argument. 
“Exactly, don’t sweat about it. I’m just glad you finally came out of your hole. I missed my movie buddy.” He gave you a lopsided grin, to which on cue, your stomach tied itself into a knot.
“Great, because I found a movie last night on my queue that I think you’d like” You beamed as you started making yourself a bowl cereal. Katsuki grunted as a response and leaped off from the island. 
You were too busy focusing on making the cereal that you didn’t hear the faint thump of footsteps behind you. Then, almost as some sort of harsh punishment, Katsuki rested his head between your right shoulder blade. He hummed once he felt your body tense up. His lips were merely inches away from your outer ear. Any other movement from him and you wouldn’t hesitate to throw the gallon of milk at his head. But what he said next caused your whole face to turn pallid. 
“Also, its kind of rude to watch someone sleeping don't cha think?” he whispered before throwing his bowl into the sink beside you. 
At that moment you knew, you were completely fucked. 
281 notes · View notes
brittledame · 4 years
Text
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Pairing: Shirabu Kenjirou/Reader
Warnings: Explicit, Cursing, Hair-pulling, Name-Calling, Hate Sex, Spanking, Slight degradation, Panty stealing, Table sex
Word Count: 7.6K
Summary: A school project brings together two academic rivals, where their dislike for one another reaches a whole new level. You and Shirabu constantly duke it out for the top grade, where it becomes an everyday occurrence to see the two scowling at and insulting one another. The tension between you two finally reaches a boiling point one afternoon when an argument breaks out.
Series: Part 1 of 3 (Part 2 & Part 3)
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Shiratorizawa was a private school full to the brim of prestige and practically screams ‘money’. Inside of the sleek modern exterior, each extracurricular club ranging from calligraphy to kyūdō possessed state-of-the-art facilities. Basically, you name it and there was most likely already a club for it, with each one allocated a ridiculous amount of funding. It did help that a lot of old and new money sent their kids to the school, which unfortunately leads to uppity pricks with uptight attitudes flaunting their wealth at the drop of a hat festering the hallways.
One such uppity prick went by the name of Shirabu Kenjirou and he was the bane of your existence. He came from an affluent background, old money resulting from smart trades in property stock way back before the global telecommunications were even conceptualised. You could smell the money oozing from his pores in the form of some ridiculously over-priced Giorgio Armani cologne, topped off with his neatly pressed uniform and copper-toned hair perfectly sleek.
The part that pissed you off the most about the male, and has led to your open dislike for the asshole, was the fact that he got into Shiratorizawa solely by his phenomenal grades, never once relying on daddy’s money to get in, like most of your cohort. Meanwhile, you made every single second count when studying, not a moment wasted between school and sleep, just to hope to qualify for the academic scholarship. For a while your parents fretted that you were studying too much just to pass some school’s entrance exams, where their platitudes of ‘you’re already plenty intelligent enough, honey’ and ‘you could ace it this very moment’ weren’t enough to soothe your stressed mind.
Not even three months later, you sat the exam and low and behold, you did ace it, much to your amazement. It was a beautiful moment, witnessing your name on their admittance board not even a month later, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. The only thing that ruined your moment was the name that ranked just above yours, taking in first place: Shirabu Kenjirou. So, your well-known rivalry with the copper-tinged blonde asshole started one-sided and quickly evolved into something much greater than you could’ve ever imagined.
For both your first and second year, you shared the same class as Shirabu. It was to be expected since you were both in the same grade average bracket, but still a girl could dream, right? Much to your ever-growing annoyance you were placed in the same third year class as well. Evidently you were unable to escape his prickly attitude.
Every task, assignment and exam became a silent challenge between the two of you. Each and every time, you’d throw yourself into your studies just to wipe the smug look he gives you every time he pulls through with the top mark.
The worst part of all this was the fact that he consistently pulled high marks while balancing a sport on top of his studies. You’d have to give it to him, you honestly don’t know when he manages to fit in eating and sleeping in that hectic schedule of his.
Now to place two head-strong individuals together was just begging for trouble, especially when your little competition has reached infamy around the sprawling campus. Turn out trouble is exactly what your science teacher was looking for when she placed the two of you together for the physic unit’s partner research report about their topic of choice. You looked at her like she’d lost her goddamn mind, not sparing the equally shocked Shirabu a glance. You didn’t even bother to argue with her, knowing it would’ve ended up worse somehow if you did.
“Fuck.” You muttered, hoping four the next six weeks to pass quickly
As soon as the Ms. Nakamura dismissed the class, you marched over to his desk. Stopping directly in front of him, you perched your hands on your hips and gave him a disdainful look.
“Look, for the course of this project I am willing to be civil with you.” You place a genial hand over your chest to complete your saintly sacrifice. Looking up, Shirabu gives you a blank look, before returning to annotating his textbook with bright sticky notes.
‘What a fucking dick,’ You silently seethe.
“Whatever. Just pick a topic and I’ll start on it.” His monotone voice serves to piss you off more. You curl your hands into tight fists, resisting the glorious thought of punching his pretty face.
“Um, I think not. We’ll pick the topic out together and we’ll equally distribute the work. I don’t want to hear you bitching to your hot teammates that I’m slacking.”
Grabbing a vacant chair near his desk, you spin it around and sit on it backwards, ignoring his disgruntled look. Tapping on your phone, you open a new contact and start filling it out.
“What’s your number, dickhead?” Shirabu’s head shot up at the insult and you grin at him, shaking your phone in front of his face.
“None of your fucking business, bitch.” He bites out, forehead creasing as he glares at you, completing his signature expression.
“Well, asshole, if you somehow managed to forget already, let me remind you. We need to collaborate on this and to do that, we need a line of communication. Texting is the easiest option.” You reason. You weren’t fond of the idea of Shirabu having your number either, the ass will probably write it in the boy’s changeroom as retribution for some misdeed you’ve done.
Deliberating, Shirabu’s pen stops its furious scribbling. Heaving a great sigh, he concludes that unfortunately you were correct, but that didn’t mean he had to explicitly admit that.
Snatching your phone, he ignores your indignant shout as he taps out his phone number and tosses the phone back at you.
“Great, thanks for being a team player, sport.” You say, as you clean the screen off on the bottom of your uniform top.
As you get up and return the chair to its correct place, you trudge over to your desk whilst starting to conjuring up some topic ideas to suggest.
Peeking from under his uneven fringe, Shirabu watches your skirt sway as you walk. He loves it whenever you walk away from him, leaving him to both think in peace and admire the way your hypnotising hips move as you walk. The short purple plaid Shiratorizawa skirt left little to his imagination whenever you bent over, or a strong breeze came through. Shirabu briefly wondered how the hell you evaded the school’s disciplinary committee’s strict uniform coding monitors in the hallway because he’s sure that you’re breaking at least two of them on any given day.
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The next day, you texted Shirabu the list of thesis concepts you wrote up. You were surprised when your phone vibrated in your hand, delivering his speedy reply.
Shithead: Sure.
What the fuck were you meant to do with that dry ass reply?
Now angry that he wasn’t taking you seriously, you texted him back to pick a god damn topic before you went over to his practice and caused a scene. And just like that he stopped being obstinate and picked the one you were secretly hoping he would choose; it was the one focusing on Einstein’s thought experiments how his process was adapted into modern-day quantum research.
After a few back and forth texts by that afternoon you had both scheduled a few meetups over the next few weeks for the more challenging components, such as devising a solid thesis and finding some credible academic papers to back-up your statements.
A week later found you waiting in the library, going through your homework as you wait for Shirabu’s team practice to end, hoping to make good use of some of your free time.
By the time Shirabu swept into the room, you had already gotten a good head start in the assignment. Dressed in his neatly pressed uniform and not a hair out of place, you almost suspected that he made up the excuse of volleyball practice to get out of spending anymore time than necessary with you. The asshole breezes past you, not even offering an apology or reason as to why he was late, but you could at least deduct that practice was at fault – that is if he even went.
“Well since you decided to keep me waiting for –“ You glance down at your phone, “forty-five minutes, I already started it. I’ve written both the study’s aim and objective and began devising the outline for what needs to be addressed in the introduction.” You say shortly, not waiting for him to seat himself and set up before you push your laptop across the desk and into his personal space.
Shirabu rolls his eyes at your accusing tone and started to read what you’ve written up in the shared word document. Kenjirou was mildly impressed at how much you accomplished in such a short amount of time, but he tried not to show that outwardly though, afraid your already inflated ego would grow. Grunting in agreement, Shirabu slid the laptop back over to you.
“That’s fine. I’ll start pulling some sources for the statements you outlined and start writing them up. Why don’t you start researching any recent projects detailing new discoveries and start collecting data to include?”
That last part was less of a question and more of a demand, but his usual flat tone made it hard to distinguish between the two. The lack of inflection in his voice could just about put anyone to sleep, and after sitting here for almost an hour in the calming atmosphere of the library, you were ready to start dozing off.
A sharp kick to your shin ripped you out of your thoughts, causing to to yelp and rub at the sore spot. A quick look at Shirabu’s smug face illuminated by his screen was enough to rid the last of your daze, begrudgingly returning to your work.
Two hours had passed, filled by the tap-tapping abuse of your keyboards and the occasional groan released by you at another paywall obstructing an article containing some nice data. Other than that, Shirabu was a quiet as a graveyard. You’d assume he had spontaneously passed away if not for the typing and blinking, the fucker didn’t even look like he was breathing.
What a completely boring guy with a nasty attitude. The most interesting thing about him was his unfortunate fringe, looking like he got mugged in an alleyway by a guy with no fine motor skills wielding a pair of scissors.
Plainly coloured hair, irises almost an identical shade of almost blonde but not quite there. He was of average stature, maybe a little below for the volleyball team. He was completely normal, nothing you would normally give a second glance while passing by, and yet…
You mentally shake away the unwanted thoughts conjured by the sight of his hands, or the slight flexing of his arm under the thin fabric of the uniform shirt.
Dirty little fantasies of Shirabu just snapping one day after one too many insults, throwing you over his lap and just going to town on your ass with the same hand that scored so many serving points for the elite team filled your head incessantly. The force would jostle you forward, tears in your eyes as you beg him – for what you don’t know, but you would beg and he’d wrap his strong hand around your throat, the threat of cutting off your blood flow to your brain was enough to stop your breathless begs.
Wrapped up in your raunchy thoughts, your typing ceases and your eyebrows furrow as you’re faced with the horrible realisation that you actually have feelings other than hate for the up-tight prick. The feelings were far from romantic, more likely resting somewhere between hate and dislike, but it was still the principle of the matter. Acknowledging those feelings alone felt like you ceded your part in a game that you two had unofficially started.
Fuck.
The next few weeks were going to be hell. You internally groaned at the thought.
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You had no idea just how right you were, as the next few Friday sessions were almost unbearable for you since that day. After that dreadful meet up, one could slice the tension that brewed between the two of you with their bare hand, even though it was solely emanating from you.
As most horrific diseases start, it was all innocuous at the beginning. The session all started the same: witty quips and digging barbs swapped at the beginning of your sessions before silently coming to the unanimous agreement to not speak another word to one another unless it was absolutely necessary. Even then, you could feel the migraine pulsating threateningly behind your eyes at how effortlessly hot he was. The headache was quite literally the physical manifestation of the vexation you felt towards the irritating copper-haired male.
It turned out that your exasperation was mutual, Kenjirou thought if he had to sit through another session with your loud breathing or deafening clacking of your keyboard, he was going to start ripping out hair. He was at his wit’s end and he had no reason as to why you set him off so easily. Not even the over-exuberant Goshiki could elicit such a nasty comment so quickly from him, even on his worst days.
The tension mounting between you two from previous sessions hung heavy in the air, but neither of you were willing to acknowledge the elephant stampeding through the small and rarely used study room.
The irritating sound of your long, trimmed nails typing, no more like smashing, on your keyboard cut through the tension. It was enough to put Kenjirou on edge faster than any other assignment meet up. He’s had a hell of a week and while he didn’t have grueling practice today, spending it alone with you was the cherry on top.
Usually the silent and calming ambiance of the library never failed to soothe him when he’s tense and anxious, but his irritation was hitting a whole new level he’s never experienced before.
“I swear if you keep smashing at your keyboard like that, I’ll rip them off and shove them up your ass.” He seethes, hands curling into fists where they rested on the table.
Looking up, you give him an incredulous look before opening your mouth. God what Shirabu wouldn’t give to get that stupid mouth of yours to not ever open again. He’d be saving the world from one less idiot spreading their stupidity.
“That’s kinky Shirabu. This is a library, keep it in your pants and save it for the bedroom.” You tease, fluttering your long eyelashes at him paired with a plastic grin.
At the murderous look his gives you, you throw back your head and laugh quietly. You weren’t willing to face the librarian’s wrath if you broke the rules, even if you were situated on the deserted top floor in a room furthest from her station at the entrance.
Conversation stalls from there on out, with only the clacking of your keyboard’s once again filling the air, although you do take greater care when typing now, not that the asshole thanked you for your consideration.
Kenjirou watches you from his periphery as you brush your glossy hair over you your shoulder, ponytail bouncing with added weight. That stupid ass hair style that made Kenjirou want to reach over and yank –
“I know you lost a couple of brain cells playing volleyball but come on, are you really that slow?” You raised your eyebrow at him, glancing at the unfinished excel charts Kenjirou had elected to do.
Giving you an unimpressed look, he chooses not to bite, thinking he’s already wasted enough time acknowledging your existence. Kenjirou hadn’t even noticed you talking to him, he was just that used to tuning you out and hearing your annoying voice as background noise.
“Can you add a trendline to the data, so that the upward trend we mention in the discussion is clearly evident in the chart?” You carefully enunciate each word to him.
Your demeaning tone and slow talking really pissed Shirabu off this time, he clenches his jaw and expels an exasperated breath through his nose.
“I’d appreciate it if you don't address me like that ever again. A trendline on the data we collected is pointless, just a pretty line. If we generated the data ourselves, then maybe, but the studies these numbers are sourced off of don’t even have trendlines.” His reasoning is rock-solid, but he was a prick about it, so you rolled your eyes and moved on to the next section of the paper that needed sorting.
“Fine, I acquiesce. A trendline here would be rather inappropriate.” He scoffs at your formal language. This was coming from the same girl that he heard on many occasions say obscenities so vulgar it’d make a seasoned soldier blush.
Tense silence fills the void between you both. You brushed of the strange sensation of being on edge. It is true that Shirabu seems even more pissy than usual, but you’ve been dealing with his shit for weeks now, you could put up with two more sessions with the unbearable prick. Hopefully.
Focusing back on the shared document open before you, you stare blankly as you try to decipher his nonsense tables. Concerned, you quickly scroll through the rest of the discussion he had begrudgingly volunteered to complete. To your absolute horror, you noticed that your format of your portion of the discussion was utterly incongruous with his formatting.
Well shit.
While grammar mistakes and sentence structure could be tweaked and fixed within a day’s work, it would take you both at least a good day's to make the report’s content flow freely and have a singular format. Thankfully, you guys have the time to fix up his – and maybe some of your – mistakes.
“Could you not?” You say shortly, tacking on a sharp glare aimed at the bane of your existence.
“Could I not what? Use your big girl words.” He bites back, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore.
“Could you please stop fucking up our assignment. I don’t know about you, daddy’s money, but I’d really like to get full marks for this.” You shoot back, angry that he had the gall to be annoyed at you when he was the one fucking up the format of the assignment.
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m doing everything that we outlined in our past sessions.” Kenjirou fumed. He swears to fucking god, if he has to argue with you over the (lack of) importance of a trend line for this data set again he’s going to scream.
Crossing your arms over your chest, you miss the way his eyes quickly flit down. Kenjirou hates himself for the way his dick twitched at the sight of you inadvertently pressing your breasts together. Licking his lips, he allows you to stew over his words and watches as you reluctantly accept his logic.
It was true, you guys didn’t really decide on a true format in the initial planning phases, it seemed like a far-off issue to worry about at that moment. Well the future is now and that issue was just going to compound by the day if it didn’t get sorted out soon. It didn’t help that you hated editing papers with a passion.
At your silence, he rolled his eyes so hard you were scared they may get stuck – although he deserves at least that much for all the shit he’s given you over the past three years. He turned back to his work and went back to ignoring you.
Oh well, two can play at that game. You didn’t want, nor need, to talk to the prick anyway.
Shifting your restless legs under the table, you accidentally kick Shirabu in the shin, earning you a dirty look. Enjoying the ugly look of his face, you give him a sickly-sweet smile.
“Oops, my bad, Shirabu. I’ll sure to be more cautious next time!” Topping off your act with some obnoxious batting of your eyelashes.
“Do it again and I’ll wipe that look off your face real fast.” He sneered back at you.
Ignoring all common sense, you played with the idea of what exactly he meant by his threat. Most likely nothing sexual and most definitely involving a punch. But that doesn’t stop you from briefly entertaining a short sexual fantasy involving the two of you fucking in his chair.
Damn, these thoughts have been getting more frequent and out-of-hand recently. If they became anymore of an issue, you may just have to see the on-campus therapist about your obvious undiagnosed nymphomania.
True to your nature, you decide to grab the metaphorical bull by the horn to see how hard he bucks. Adjusting your posture again, you lean your elbows on the table as you uncross your legs and again hit his leg stretched out under the table.
You could practically hear Shirabu’s restraint snap, a dark expression taking over his face. He jerks up and out of his chair and proceeds stalks towards you, a dangerous glint in his ochre eyes.
‘Oh shit, I might have actually overdone it this time. He’s going to fucking kill me.’ You were frozen in place, not even breathing as he towers over your seated form. You mentally said your goodbye’s to family and friends. They wouldn’t be shocked to find out that you met your end due to pure pettiness.
You were expecting at least a slap, maybe even a gut punch, so when he grabbed your arms and hoisted you onto your feet, you assumed the absolute worst. Unexpectedly, he backed your body against the table, his hips pinning yours against the hard edge, making it dig harshly into your back.
You gasp as a calloused hand grabs the back of your exposed neck, the other moving to your waist. He pulls himself incredibly close to you. You're sure there isn’t an atom of space left between the two of you now, feeling every inch of his body pressed up against yours.
He bends down and breathes softly into your ear words that set off a blaze within you.
“I warned you not to try me today and yet you kept on pushing me.” His low tone sent shivers down your spine.
Hands flat on the table, you shove yourself up against his hard chest even more, meeting his dark expression head-on.
“I figured you were all bark and no bite, so what’s the harm?” Ignoring the sharp edge of his previous words, you kept making digs at him. You already made peace with the fact that you may die at the hands of the unfairly attractive man before you.
Snapping, Shirabu grabs you by your tie, pulling you upwards and meeting your lips in a fierce kiss. It honestly was more teeth than lips, but you’d take whatever he would give you. Lust quickly replaced shock as you reciprocated the kiss, giving back as much as he gave you.
Never one to be one-upped, you both furiously made out against the table. Eventually you reluctantly conceded to him, pulling away gasping for breath to fill your aching lungs. While he didn't look as effected as you, he still panted as he caught his breath.
Lips kiss-swollen from the hard kiss he gave you, he gulped at the mussed up look of your uniform from the short make-out session. The sight alone was enough to spur him back into action. You met his lips half-way, hands flying up to bury themselves into surprisingly soft hair.
The kiss was more than just that, it was a battle of wills. It was another challenge set before you both, another one added to the extensive list of trials. It tested who had the guts to resolve the unresolved sexual tension building between you both.
Fingers digging into your soft flesh, he easily hoisted you up onto the table, slotting himself between the space made between your open legs. The kiss picks up intensity as he throws in a few nips at your bottom lip, while you lightly bite at his tongue invading your mouth.
You gasp at a particularly harsh bite at your bottom lip, drawing back to give the self-satisified male a scowl.
“Oh? Is this the reason why you’ve always been so short with me. It’s cute that you don’t know how to act around your crush.” Your teasing words make the male between your legs tense up.
“I’d rather bite off my own tongue than date you, bitch.” He goes to kiss you again. It was the only thing that got you to shut up, which he very enjoyed.
“Who said anything about dating, dearest? My, my, so you have been thinking of me.” You laughed and gave him a belittling look.
“The only thoughts I’ve had about you involve either shutting you up or fucking you senseless, so make of that what you will.” He grits out between clenched teeth, not willing to give you that inch he threw out to you like a lifeline.
If he was going to go through with this, he at least wanted you to know exactly what he wanted to get out of it. Nothing more, nothing less.
You consider him under hooded eyelids, gaze sweeping up and down his clothed torso. Well at least he wanted the same thing that’s been haunting your waking thoughts for the past month. You weren’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth that's for sure.
“Sure, I mean you could try, but I doubt that you could even a moan out of me.” You said languidly, setting up another challenge. Now all he had to do was pick up the gauntlet.
Words igniting a fire within him, his lips tipped into a lopsided smirk. You had no idea what you just started and he was more than happy to show you the consequences of your bold actions.
“Oh, I assure you, I’m not going to stop until I hear you screaming.”
The room you occupied was situated on the top floor, at the end of a long corridor of empty study rooms exactly like this one. It was highly unlikely that the elderly librarian at the entrance would hear what was about to go down. It was also unlikely any snooping students would come across your study room on the neglected floor.
You fully expected him to pull you into another bruising kiss before fucking you but it seemed that the stupidly hot bastard was just full of surprises today. Instead, he pulled you off the table and turned you to face the chair he had previously occupied. With the hand placed at the nape of your neck, the other moving to your opposite side of your waist, he pushed you down to lie against the cold tabletop. Though definitely not for your benefit, he pushed aside any stray bits of paper out of your way to prevent them from creasing.
You gasp as the pressure he applies onto you forces the breath out of your lungs, pressing you hard against the unforgiving surface. Hands scrabbling for a purchase to help you establish a counter force to push up against him, he bends down and breathes softly into your ear.
“Look at you so pliant for me, I could get used to this.” His smug tone made your blood boil. That bastard was going to milk this situation for all it has and you have no ground to stand on to refute him when you were planning on doing the exact same.
“You know, your nasty attitude destroys that pretty boy stereotype you have going on.” You retort. You weren’t going to take his bullshit laying down – metaphorically speaking.
Fed up with you running your mouth, always talking but never saying anything of substance, he hastily loosens his tie. Without warning, he shoves a bundle of fabric into your mouth, quickly moving his fingers away from teeth that would gladly bite down onto his precious setting tools.
Trying to voice your anger, you squirm in his grasp with muffled nonsensical words leaving your mouth.
Kenjirou marvels at the sight of your stuffed mouth, words finally muted and wide eyes that were angry at his action. If he knew this is all he had to do to get you to shut up for more than two seconds then he’d gladly do it again.
Kenjirou couldn’t help but wonder if your cheeks would also look like that if he’s shoved his dick between your plush pink lips but he saves that thought for another day. After all, he had at least half a year left to put up with your bullshit.
Pressing his hips against your ass, he revels at the feeling of finally having you under him, squirming and all. Deciding not to draw this out anymore than he already has, he smoothly grinds his slowly growing erection into the cleft of your ass obscured by ugly purple plaid.
Unsatisfied with the lack of friction, he flips up your skirt to reveal lacy panties. He thought it was a bit risqué to wear them at school but who was he to complain about the lovely gift.
You gave a muffled shout when he snapped against the waist band against your hip. Tempted, you considered trying to kick him in the shin again somehow in your position. The thought dissolved into nothing as he lightly smacks your ass, causing you to jolt forward more in surprise than in pain.
With the absence of any complaints or irritating whinging, Kenjirou weighed the plump flesh in his hand, grinning to himself when he hears you moan at his curious squeezing. He wondered what other delicious noises you’ll make under him.
Well there was only way to find out.
Winding his hand back, his hand came down with a loud ringing smack, hard enough to leave his hand pleasantly tingling. The pink imprint of his hand on your ass was going to be burned into his mind for a long time, a wave a heat rolling through him and coalescing in his groin.
Again, you jolt forward at the impact, nails scratching at the acrylic lacquer of the tabletop, unable to find purchase. While you could feel the poor skin pulse dully with pain, pure arousal flashed hot and bright within you. If you had ever thought spanking would be something you were into, you’re pretty sure Shirabu was one of the worst people to discover along with, always the one to abuse any situation.
The next time his hand came down on your ass, you mistakenly tensed, causing the pain to shoot through you ten-fold. You wince at the sensation of him hitting the exact same spot over and over again. You were sure the spot would be rouge red by this point, but the pain didn’t take away from the pleasure you derived from his rough treatment.
Mixing things up, Kenjirou bites his lip as he aims a smack right at the apex of your thighs, close enough to your core that the vibrations of the hit ripped a lewd moan from your lips, much louder than the rest. Blood rushing down to his already engorged cock at your noises, he knows that he could easily get addicted to your bent form. You enjoying the spanking was just a fun bonus for him.
“I should’ve guessed you were into spanking. It fits the ‘good school girl’ façade you’ve got going on,” Shirabu hums, throwing the words back into your face. Leaning down, he breathes into your ear, “I could really get used to you like this beneath me. I have such big plans for you.”
Shivering at his low tone, your mind whirled chaotically with half-baked ideas of what exactly he had in plan for you. Honestly, as long as it ended up with his dick inside of you, you don’t care about the rest. You were always opposed to the saying ‘It’s not the destination, it’s all about the journey.’ And this situation was no different to you.
Kenjirou slides your panties over your ass and down your legs, half tempted to chuck them across the room just to see you panicking over locating them after this. On second thought… He shoves the offending piece of lace into his back pocket, as a present for himself putting up with you.
His hands bracket you bottoms of your ass and smooths his thumbs over the soft pink flesh. Kenjirou watching them slightly jiggle in the palms of his hand, admiring the rosy tinge he painted them. Kenjirou firmly decided that the flesh looked much prettier painted pink by the very hand that slammed balls over the side of the net with shocking force.
Fingers gliding over the cheeks and trailing downward, he makes contact with your wet lips. Mildly surprised, he runs a slender finer between them, gathering your juices.
“Look at how wet you are for me. I bet I won't even have to prep you, your greedy hole will probably just suck me in.” He states, rubbing his finger slowly -torturously - over the entrance of your hole.
You whine through your makeshift gag and buck your hips against his fingertips, hoping for them to dip in deeper. The pad of his crooked index finger dipped shallowly into you a few times from your efforts. Kenjirou was greatly amused at your efforts, deciding to hold his fingers in place for you to try and fail to fuck into yourself.
“Look at how desperate you are, it’s honestly pathetic. I expected so much more from you.” He tutted.
The flash of anger fizzled and died before it took root, much too distracted by him inserting his entire index finger in without warning. While you had explored yourself on more than a few occasions, mapping out sensitive flesh with your fingers, the feeling of his much longer and slightly thicker finger inside of you was incredible.
You whimper at the slick feeling of him moving his finger in and out of you, occasionally curling against the spongy tissue, seeking for the bundle of nerves that will make you scream. Slotting in another finger and him twisting them simultaneously had you panting and clenching your eyes at the full feeling from just the two.
Feeling your walls tighten and quiver around his finger as he crooked them a few times, he doubled down to find your erogenous zone before he fucks you. It only took another finger and few moments of scissoring them deep inside of you, indicated by your abrupt gasping jerk.
Licking his lips, he rubs his fingers harshly against the soft area, committing to memory the muffled breathy moans and whimpers that dropped from your panting mouth. Dick twitching, hard and painful within his tight slacks draws him out of his mind. He withdraws his saturated fingers from your sopping hole, briefly abandoning the sensitive spot for now.
Slumping, you simultaneously miss and despise his fingers fucking into you, hating that he found your G-spot quicker than you’d anticipated. The prick was too smart for his own good, the asshole probably knew more about female anatomy and orgasms than you did with biology being his best class.
The rustle of his pants being undone pulls you back to reality. Oh god this is really happening. Your breath picks up, anticipating the next move the bitter setter will make next.
The sensation of something long, hot and rigid, his dick you assumed, rests between your still stinging cheeks. His fingers dip back between your lips and gather more liquid arousal. Kenjirou ignores your groan at the odd feeling, preoccupied with smearing your slick over his dick, taking his sweet time.
One hand on his cock, guiding the tip to sit at your entrance, with the other placed for support on your hip. Tense, you waited for him to just slam on in, not anticipating him to draw out the moment. You hated the way that you squirmed at the thought of his dick being so close but so far away from where you wanted it most.
“You better hold onto the desk. Once I start, I’m not going to stop until I hear you screaming.” He said, smug tone and all ringing loud and clear.
You huff indignantly at his statement, as if to say: ‘Sure, whatever you say, asshole.’
Rolling his eyes, he tightens his grip as he starts to insert himself inside of you. Obviously taking pity on you, he graciously chooses to glide in at a decent pace. The breath was punched out of your lungs as he completely sheathed himself inside you, hot and throbbing. You try not to violently shiver around him because you couldn’t bare the thought of inflating his already unhealthily enlarged ego.
Dropping the niceties, as if there were any with Shirabu involved, he slid out not a moment later and slammed back on in, loving the sound of his skin smacking against yours. Sloppy sounds of your fucking fill the air and frankly you’d be pretty grossed right now if your brain didn’t reside in your pussy that very moment.
Fucking you from behind, Kenjirou grabs a fistful of shiny hair and harshly rips back your head, hot breath cascading over perspiring skin.
“You take me so well, like you were made for me. Maybe I should fuck this hole of yours again sometime.”
In retribution, you clench down as hard as feasibly possible, hoping to knock him off of that high horse of his. The grunt that rings in your ears pacifies your ire, but the unexpected resistance doesn't stop him from trying to fuck up into you even harder.
Pardoning his attitude, you loosen up for him, more so for your own pleasure than his. He doesn’t hesitate to pick up his unforgiving pace, pumping in and out of you like a sex-crazed mad-man. Eyes rolling into your head, you felt the tip of his thick dick kiss the entrance of your cervix, which paired fantastically with the friction his thick cock made against your quivering walls.
Moaning around the tie as he furiously fucks you from behind, you can feel the piece of fabric become saturated with your drool. He seemed to appreciate the sounds you made, hands tightening around your hips and starts to seek out the highly sensitive spot hidden somewhere inside of you.
Every time he slid out, he’d readjust his angle with only the tip still in before slamming back on into, waiting for the moment he found his target. The pain of the table cutting into your stomach is buried underneath the pleasure Kenjirou relentlessly delivered to you.
An idea flashed in Kenjirou’s mind, a cruel one, but not too cruel as revenge for all the shit you’ve put him through. Unknowing of the feral grin on his face, you continued to moan as his dick fills you so perfectly, suddenly jolting when you feel his warm lips against your throat. You let out a squeal and clenched down hard around his length when you feel his teeth bury into the soft skin. Manicured nails scratching small divots into the desk as he sucks the bruise deep into your skin.
You grit your teeth when you feel him release your skin, the spot already feeling sore at the rough treatment. You could tell from the position that it was too high for the uniform’s collar to hide and wearing a scarf in this summer weather was way too suspicious. That motherfucker probably planned that; you silently fume as he smirks against your perspiring flesh.
The worst part though was when all conspiring thoughts of retribution were wiped clean from you mind as your entire nervous system is struck by lightning. You cry out loudly at the sensation, to which Kenjirou huffed under his breath, muttering out a quiet ‘Thank fuck’ that went unacknowledged by you as you tried to recuperate from him hitting your G-spot with the force of a tank.
Kenjirou greedily ate up each cry leaving your lips as he continued to hit the sensitive nerves with deadly precision. The sight of you writhing underneath him was enough payment for the annoyance he’d suffered through at your hands the past month. But it was the feel of your walls clutching at him tightly and your delicious moans that was the true reward for all his patience.
The wet squelching noises of your furious fucking was enough to make you blush, which was hilarious thinking about it. Not even four weeks ago you were ready to jump the table and non-sexually choke him out with your tie – and now he was railing you with his tie as a makeshift gag.
Ah, fate truly was a bitch.
Thrusts becoming frantic, you knew that Kenjirou was nearing his end and you would swear bloody vengeance if he finished and left you high and dry. It turns that promise would be for naught. Shirabu reaches around you with his still slick covered fingers and rubs furiously at your clit, giving it a few good squeezes, rightfully assuming you loved the rough treatment. And that you did, you bucked wildly in his grasp, moans hitting a whole new pitch as you unravel quickly under his dual ministrations.
The arousal that had been sitting hot inside of you, seemed to snap and unleashed upon you an orgasm that had stars sear into your eyelids, eyes clenched tightly as the sensation threatened to drown you in it. What felt like pure electricity coursed through your veins, feeling as if Shirabu’s dick had just sent you to a new dimension, brain liquefying inside of your skull.
Behind you, Kenjirou seizes up as he feels you tighten up considerably around him, delivering him to his peak as well. His pace slows as his hips stutter, unleashing his load within you. Even completely incoherent, you shivered at the feeling of him feeling at you, not able to muster up and ounce of disgust at the feeling. That should’ve been the moment that you knew that you were truly fucked; you were completely wrapped around Shirabu’s long pretty fingers.
Limbs trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you laid there limply as he pulled out. You felt a bead of sweat drop down your brow as you weakly collect yourself together, drawing yourself up on shaky arms. The sensation of thick globules of Shirabu’s cum slipping out of you was enough of a distraction to brush of the intense stare Shirabu aimed at your leaking hole.
Leaning back, Kenjirou fights down the flush on his cheeks from watching his cum slowly dripping out of you, feeling hot under the collar from both the sight and  from the mind-blowing orgasm. Shuffling back, he cleans himself off with a clean tissue in his shirt pocket before tucking himself back into his boxer briefs and pulling up his pants.
Slumped against the table, you felt like a wreck, both inside and out. Dick rearranging your insides aside, you were happy that Shirabu deigned for you to orgasm instead of leaving you a begging mess, which was a very likely move for the bastard.
Your jaw felt sore from how full your mouth was with his tie crammed in. Pulling out the wet article, you tossed it onto the table in his general direction. Kenjirou looks at the crumpled fabric with disgust. Weirdly, he doesn't complain as he gathers some tissues from his bag to wrap the article in until he can get it cleaned.
Choosing not to question his sudden pacified attitude towards you, you pushed yourself up on weak arms. Kenjirou laughs at your struggle, not at all intimidated by your nasty glare.
“Asshole.” You mumble under your breath.
You make quick work of cleaning yourself up too, feeling weirdly exposed bent over and naked from the waist down whilst a fully clothed Shirabu almost looked bored, acting as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out.
Your skirt slides back into place as you stand upright, shortly followed by more of his load trickling out of you. Pinned underneath his burning stare, you refused to give him an inch and fought back the tremble that threatened to overtake your body at the odd sensation.
“Alright, now sit down. Let’s finish this project before I leave and you have to finish fixing up the format by yourself.”
You blink at him. “Really?”
It seems the bastard wouldn’t even let you properly clean up first before diving back into the assignment.
“Really. Now get your lazy ass up, you’re creasing our data sets.”
Not willing to reveal how flustered you were, you downplay your disgust at the feeling his cum drying on your thighs and stiffly walk over to your chair, trying to spy your panties somewhere on the ground, but ultimately found nothing. You could have sworn that Shirabu smirked at your searching looks, but a second glance showed you his normal bored expression.
Sticking your nose up in the air, you start discussing your plan on how to fix the minor issue of formatting. Shirabu gave lackluster nods at your prodding, clearly wanting nothing more than to leave. You did your best to push through the sensation of the sticky mess drying between your legs, internally fretting as to where your panties may lie. You're pretty sure that you'd perish on the spot if a staff member found them.
Thankfully, it took only half an hour before Shirabu beat a hasty retreat, quickly placing all his stuff neatly into his bag and intent on walking out of the room without another word. The fucker wasn’t even going to say goodbye to you.
Shifting in your seat, you start packing up. Eyes wildly darting around, you didn’t notice him pausing in the open doorway.
Glancing over his shoulder, shooting you a dastardly smirk, Kenjirou savours your infuriated expression before turning away and walking off. Slightly confused, you squint as you try to make out an odd-looking lump in his back pocket. At the sight of familiar lace peeking out of his slacks, your eyes widen in shock and indignant rage.
“That bastard.”
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Edit: I fixed an incongruity with a bit in the end scene, sorry to anyone that picked it up!!
Notes: We need more Shirabu content so here I am delivering some extremely self-indulgent content. I made Shirabu a dick but I made reader a bitch towards him and he strikes me as the type to hate stuck up people. Hope you all enjoyed!
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chocojjk · 4 years
Text
Hyunjin’s Playlist
summary: college student! hyunjin x college! student reader; strangers to lovers?
words: 5.2k
a/n: Hi, I meant to upload this a lot earlier however I was met with tons of writers block along the way. I wrote this without having an actual plot prepared lmao. But anyways, its done so I hope someone enjoys reading this :)
all songs used are songs that hyunjin has played on vlive but please keep in mind that the way the songs are portrayed are based off of my own interpretations. i am in no way speaking for hyunjin :) 
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one.
we are often attracted to instruments that mirror our own identity. we find comfort in knowing that we aren’t alone, that somewhere out there, someone is feeling the same exact way. they say a person can tell a lot about another based on their playlist. songs become a portrayal of one’s feelings and experiences. through someone’s music, you can tell what kind of person they are.
“Let me see your playlist.”
“What?” the boy responded, curious as to why you chose that as your conversation starter. nonetheless, he unlocks his phone and opens his spotify app, showing you the songs that have definitely left a mark on his heart. 
Places We Won’t Walk - Bruno Major 
A blissful song with a hint of sadness. The boy in front of you treasures the small things in life, yet is saddened by the things that he cannot reach. 
When The Party’s Over - Billie Eilish 
He’s put up a wall. He’s not easily understood. He’s aware that he can hurt others so he has made himself believe that he’d rather be alone. That he’s better off alone. 
Instagram - Dean
He’s lonely. He often compares himself to those around him, wondering why he isn’t living the same luxurious life with all the same cheerful smiles that he sees on his feed. 
Please Love Me - Colde
He wants to be loved. “I like you,” you smiled, handing him back his phone, taking the seat next to him. 
-
“The weirdest thing happened to me today.”
Hyunjin started telling his friends about the girl he encountered on his first day of university. It’s been hours since it happened yet he couldn’t shake it out of his head.
“That’s it? She just asked to see your playlist?” Jisung exclaims, one eyebrow going up and a pout making its way on his face as he wore the same confused expression Hyunjin sported earlier that day. Hyunjin nods, answering the question that his friend had laid out for him. 
“Hmm, that is weird,” Felix agreed
“Maybe she’s actually a psychology major and it’s a project?” Seungmin suggested, trying to find the answers to the situation that has left them all clueless. 
“Orrr, maybe...just maybe...she thought you were cute?” Jeongin chuckled sarcastically
“But that’s literally all she said to me, she didn’t look at me after that anymore...when the class was over, she was gone without saying goodbye… s-she didn’t even tell me her name!” Hyunjin whines, sinking into his chair. 
“Why don’t you just ask her when you see her again?” their youngest retorts, tired of how his older friends were always overanalyzing things that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.
You frustrated the boy. The way you didn’t even know his name yet somehow you came to the conclusion that you liked him. The way that you spoke exactly 8 words to him but made it seem like you know every story he has to tell. You made him feel vulnerable and he did not like that. 
Not one bit. 
-
“What's your name?” Hyunjin plops his backpack down as he takes the seat next to yours, the same ones as last week. 
“Why does that matter?” you ask, clearly teasing the boy. 
Hyunjin plasters on the fakest smile he could muster up, not really having the patience for your mind games, “well, if you’re gonna continue to sit next to me then the least you could do is tell me your name.”
You bite back a smile, his music gave too much of him away. He was good at hiding his feelings though which is something you’ll give him credit for later on. Honestly, if you weren’t paying attention, you might have missed the sour expression that was laced within the boy's tone of voice nor would you have noticed how he’s trying to show you that he’s unbothered by your words. 
Unluckily for the boy, your attention was focused solely on him. And so, you push his buttons some more, “technically, you were the one that sat next to me.”
Hyunjin stares at you, trying to read what was going on in your mind but all he could feel was the annoyance that was seeping through his body. 
God, you were annoying. 
“Slowly, hair will turn to gray,” you mumbled, a smirk forming its way on your lips. “What?” Hyunjin replied, a word he seems to be saying a lot ever since he met you. “If you keep thinking so hard, your hair might  turn to gray soon,” you joked yet it was clear to the both of you that it was only funny to you, the boy not catching on to the fact that you were phrasing a lyric from one of his songs.
“...my name is y/n,” you say, finally deciding to give the boy a break. 
“Alright class, I want to talk about your partner project, please find someone in the classroom to work with. This will be done throughout the semester and will be 30% of your overall grade so take it seriously,” the Professor informed, capturing both yours and Hyunjins attention.
“This project will be simple - it’s all about observing. Since this is a PSYCH class, I want you and your partner to pick 3 spots and just simply observe the people around you. For example, if you are at the cafe, what could the person in the corner with her eyebrows furrowed be wondering? Is she studying for an exam? Is she worried about a friend? There are tons of possibilities but I want you and your partner to jot down what you see and explain what you have observed.”
“That’s all for today, I’ll release you guys early so you can all have a head start,” she explained. 
You turn to the boy at your side, “so…you want to be partners?” 
-
Hyunjin doesn’t really know why he said yes, seeming he wasn’t comfortable with your presence at all. He convinces himself that he just didn’t want to go through the extra hassle of finding a partner when you were already available. Besides he could honestly care less, the only reason why he’s taking this class was for the extra units. After all, he was a music major. 
“How about here?” you suggested the grassy area in the middle of the campus. This part of the school was peaceful however it wasn’t quiet. Laughter and chatter from all the different kinds of groups filled up the morning air while the birds chirped along and occasionally, a squirrel or two would cause a bit of a ruckus. 
“We could grab some food and just sit down on the grass,” but the puzzled expression on the boy's face lead you to assume that he didn’t quite like the idea, “just so we would blend in more,” you added, hoping that it would be enough for the boy to say yes. 
“We don’t need to get food. We can just sit here and pretend we're talking, a lot of people around here are doing just that.” He was right. All you could do was nod and let out a sigh as the two of you sat next to each other, observing the scene ahead. You were hoping you could grab a quick bite during this since you still had classes for the rest of the day but that obviously wasn’t the case so you chose to just cover up your rumbling stomach with a cough or two here and there. 
“What do you think about him?” Hyunjin pointed at the boy that was sitting on the bench, flowers in his hand as he types away on his phone. 
“Hmm, I noticed his smile first, he’s practically beaming. He’s probably going to surprise his significant other. His legs bouncing up and down from excitement,” you chuckle, finding the anonymous boys’ action cute, “he’s probably texting them right now so they could meet up,” you concluded. You turn to Hyunjin, noticing his eyes slightly widen at your response. “What do you think?” you ask, slightly nudging him out of his trance.
“well... I think you’re right that he’s waiting for someone. But for me, he’s probably gonna confess to that person...uhmm, his ears are pink so he’s nervous… probably afraid of rejection. Because of this he’s probably texting a friend for advice,” he observed.
His answer didn’t surprise you, after all, you’ve already seen some of the deepest parts of him - even if he was unaware. On the other hand, he was in awe. Your guys’ answers were so different from the other. The way you viewed the scene ahead as something positive while his was more on the negative side. This sparked interest in him. But he breaks out of his thoughts as he hears your failed attempt to hide your growling stomach for the umpteenth time. 
He stands to his feet, grabbing you along with him. “Uhm, where are we going?”
He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs your hand and drags you along until you’ve arrived at the university’s main food court. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your stomach rumbling for the past twenty minutes,” he teases as you try to hide the blush that was making its way upon your cheeks. Now you were left speechless, nothing in the boy’s music has suggested that he had this sweet side to him. The side that would easily let someone in. 
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” you admitted as Hyunjin handed you the sandwich he had ordered, one for you and one for him. 
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry that I came off strong on the first day,” you apologized, aware of the way that you’ve been pushing his buttons and leaving him uncomfortable. 
“Why did you ask for my playlist?” He was finally going to get an answer to the event that has left him stunned for the past week. 
“It’s just a thing I do,” you confess nonchalantly, “I check to see if  we have similar taste in music and from there, I come to a conclusion on whether or not you’re cool enough for me to talk to,” you lied. You weren’t going to admit to him that the reason you do it was to analyze him. I mean, what kind of person assumes a person’s whole character through their songs, right? 
He wouldn’t understand. 
Honestly, you don’t even really understand yourself why you do it. Maybe because you liked having the upper hand - that way, no one can hurt you. 
Hyunjin lets out a laugh and you feel a little guilty. “So, if my songs were bad, you wouldn’t talk to me?” he chuckles. 
“Yeah, no… not in a million years,” you joked, laughing along with him. 
“So what would be a bad song to you?” he questions, a small smile playing on his lips. 
“I don't know, uhh-despacito?” you snicker
Honestly, there were no such things as bad songs. When it comes to songs, everyone is entitled to their own opinions but you had to play along with the little lie that you’ve already started.
“Hey! I like that song!” Hyunjin retorts, playfully throwing a crumpled up tissue paper along your direction, the two of you sharing a laugh as the small guilt you felt a while ago diminishes. It’s not like it’s going to hurt him anyways. You only see each other once a week and it was for class. Otherwise, you never see the brown haired boy on campus. You didn’t even know of his existence until you startled him with your question. 
The only reason he became your target was because the only empty seat was the one next to him. 
two. 
Second location. A frat party at the famous 3RACHA unit, who you’ve learned were good friends of Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin’s idea, convincing you that you guys will probably get a higher grade if you’ve incorporated various kinds of scenes. Plus, it was his first frat party and he didn’t want to miss it. You on the other hand was dreading this night ever since he brought it up in class last week. Parties weren’t your thing, you would much rather stay at home binging netflix shows, reading fanfictions, or watching compilations of your favorite kpop idols. But here you are now, rummaging the kitchen for something that didn’t contain alcohol as you’ve given up searching for the boy himself.  
“y/n!, heyy,” Hyunjin stumbles in, a red solo cup in his hand. 
“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Can we please get this over with so I can leave,” you huffed, annoyed at the boy in front of you and the situation that you’ve found yourself in. 
“No.” He pouts before letting out a laugh, his eyes turning into little moons. 
“No? What do you mean, no?”
“Let’s have some fun first!” he beamed, dragging your hand out of the kitchen and into the party, ignoring your many protests. “Hyunjin, I didn’t come here for fun!” you sigh, arms crossing as you finally put a halt to the boys actions. 
“C’mon y/n, loosen up a little bit… you’re in the first party of the most popular frat in town, enjoy it while you can.” This time he holds his hand out, though his eyes had a tinge of red from the alcohol that was playing in his system, the sincerity in them couldn’t be missed. 
And so you do.
 You take his hand in yours as he shoots you one of his signature smiles. You party the night away with the boy at your side. He introduced you to a handful of new people but you forgot their names as soon as it came out of their mouths. 
-
You had way too much to drink but somehow you find yourself stumbling towards the park nearby, the boy's hand still in yours as he shares the story of how his best friend Jisung got chased by a duck and you couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh. Nothing about your laugh was pretty and if you weren’t so drunk, the embarrassment would’ve probably creeped up by now but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care - not when Hyunjins laugh would mix in with yours and you guys would have to literally cling to each other for strength. 
“Tag, you’re it!” he breaks you out of your thoughts as he starts running away, his laughter still ringing in the air as you chase him. After a while, you give up, you were in no way, shape, or form, fast enough to catch the boy - especially with all the liquor bouncing around your stomach. 
You sit down on the grass, catching your breath, your laughter dying down as your back hits the grass, eyes focusing on the twinkling orbs above. A few seconds later, warmth fills up beside you, Hyunjin taking his place next to you, mirroring your actions. 
“We never observed a person,” you say chuckling, breaking the silence that quickly hung over the two of you. 
“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, turning to you. Hyunjin takes this time to fully take in your appearance. No doubt in his mind, you are one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. 
“Why don’t we, umm -,” he pauses, wondering to himself if this was going to be a good idea for him. 
“Why don’t we, what?” you reply quickly, curiosity getting the best of you as you turn to your side coming face to face with the boy himself. Your guys’ face were millimeters apart and the sudden feeling of his breathing being so close to you felt intoxicating. You dart your eyes down to his lips, thinking what it was like to feel them upon yours. 
Hyunjin lets out an awkward cough, breaking the tension in the air as he stares back up at the stars. “Why don’t we observe each other?” he suggests after his heartbeat finally calmed down. 
“Oh uhmm, o-okay,” you say, your voice faltering, pushing back your desire to kiss him. “You first,” you whisper, keeping your eyes locked into his features. 
“uhh, I think you’re wondering what the hell you’re doing with a boy you barely know at 3 in the morning. You don’t want me to notice that you’re actually really pissed at me for dragging you into this party and not getting any of our work done,”
The boy takes a pause as soon as he hears you giggle ‘hyunjin, you are so wrong,’ you think to yourself. 
“You’re the type to always get your shit done and you’ve probably already figured out everything you want in your life ever since you learned how to walk. You… you shouldn’t be wasting your time with someone like me,” he muttered, slowly turning to face you, this time a sad smile placed upon his lips. You sympathize with him, feeling sad with the way that he viewed himself. 
“Okay, uhm…you're anxious right now because you don’t know how i’ll react to your confessions. You’re the type of boy who doesn’t want to let anyone in but at the same time wants to know how it feels to be loved,” you sigh, the guilt you were feeling creeping in once again, slowly eating you up. Hyunjin grew tense under your observations. He hated how easily it is for you to read him when he thought that he was doing a decent job at keeping up with his facade. 
“You don’t notice the way others look at you because you’re too busy nitpicking your flaws. You didn’t notice how you were literally the life of the party back there. You didn’t notice the amount of girls practically begging for your attention…” you hesitate saying the last thing in your mind but as soon as you turned to him and saw the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t help but let the words stumble out of your mouth, “you don’t notice how much I want to kiss you right now,” and with those words out in the open, he brings his hands up to your cheek, slowly placing a light kiss upon your rosy lips and you swear you’ve never tasted anything better. It was a quick kiss, leaving as soon as it came, but the mix of his cherry chapstick and the alcohol created a combination that left you wanting more. Leaning up, you kiss him again, his mouth moving perfectly in sync with yours, deepening the kiss that you find yourself getting more and more addicted to with every second that passes. 
Hyunjin pulls away first, his thoughts finally all coming together as the alcohol was starting to slowly leave his system. He looks at you, the fear evident in his eyes. He fucked up and he knows it. He shouldn’t have kissed you. You guys were friends and frankly, he liked your company. He can never be that guy who starts a relationship with someone. He was sure that he was incapable of love and could never give you what you wanted. You knew this, of course. You knew this from day one. 
“I’m no good for you,” he sighed, mumbling several apologies for the actions that he took. And you realize how truly scared he was. That the tough image he’s keeping up isn’t because he had to but because he truly believed that it was the right thing to do. 
“That’s okay Hyunjin, we can blame it on the alcohol,” you wished you didn’t have to but you knew yourself that you couldn’t let this get deeper than what it was now.
Hyunjin walks you back to your dorm room, making sure you were safe inside before he headed back to his own place. 
-quiet when I’m coming home, i’m all alone. 
three. 
Hyunjin saw too many relationships around him fail, starting from his own parents. For him, love was merely an illusion. A desire that people get caught up with not because they are in love but because they lust the idea of love. The idea of having someone there to hold, to laugh with, to share stories with - it was all bullshit to him because at the end of the story, someone always leaves. Someone always says goodbye. It wasn’t worth it. 
Not for him. 
But sometimes he’ll see a picture on instagram and wonder to himself, could those smiles be permanent? 
“Are you just gonna keep stalking her social media or are you gonna actually talk to her?” Jeongin breaks the boy out of his thoughts. 
“I’m not stalking her!” Hyunjin replies defensively, hiding the pink that was creeping upon his cheeks. 
“I’ve literally been here for the past 3 mins just looking at you scroll through her feed and you didn’t even notice,” the younger boy points out, teasing him. Ever since the night at the park, Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. He knew that the both of you agreed to just forget it but could he really forget something like that? You made him feel what he was scared of the most. You made him feel like he wanted to fall in love. The memory of your lips against his keeps him up at night, your laughter ringing in his ear while the warmth from your fingertips makes him feel like he’s completely losing it. 
How can he still feel you when you were nowhere near him? 
How did you get past his wall so quickly? 
And why, fuck, why does he want you in it? 
-
You, on the other hand, haven't made any effort to reach out either. He was right about you. You were a know-it-all. Ever since you were younger you knew that you wanted to help the people around you. You enjoyed listening to others’, letting them know that they are never alone and that they could always turn to you for advice or simply just if they needed someone to listen to them. You liked the idea of being someone’s safe haven - that’s why you want to be a psychologist. 
But this - the way the boy made you feel, the way he cluttered your every waking thought - this was something you didn’t plan. This was something you didn’t have the answers to. Grabbing your phone, you finally gain the courage to send the boy a text 
Hey, we still have one scenario left, any ideas? - y/n
Hyunjin reads the text, his heart suddenly doing somersaults in the air. ‘Hyunjin, stop.’ he warns himself. He knows that he wasn’t ready to see you and so he ignored it. Grabbing his backpack he shouts a quick, “I'm gonna go practice,” before heading out to the dance rooms to try and clear his head. 
-
umm, what do you think about going to the diner across town? - y/n 
You did it. You double texted. After several hours, the boy still hasn’t responded to your text so you decided to take manners in your own hands. But as soon as you pressed send, you felt pathetic. He’s most likely just busy and that’s why he hasn’t replied but you like to make yourself believe that you had more of an effect on him. 
You were about to scream into your pillow, feeling frustrated at the situation until your phone let out a small ding, indicating that you’ve received a new message. 
sure - hyunjin 
how does tomorrow at 6pm sound ? - y/n 
good - hyunjin
These one word answers were killing you. For someone who usually knows and can assume what’s about to happen beforehand, you were left clueless and that annoyed you.  
-
“Hey, am i late?” hyunjin takes the seat across from you. no, he wasn’t late. you just arrived way earlier than the time planned hoping to calm your nerves before having to face the boy who has settled himself into your mind. 
“What do you think of that girl over there?” you point at the girl who was sitting, laughing along with her group of friends.
“geez y/n, can’t we order something to eat first,” hyunjin jokes. He barely got there and you were already on top of it. typical, he thinks to himself. You let out a small smile, happy at the fact that the boy was teasing you. Honestly, you were afraid that his responses were going to be as bland as his text messages and it has been killing your thoughts the whole night. 
“ok ok,, my bad… let’s order first,” when your food arrived, you fell into a comfortable conversation. like the thoughts that the both of you have been struggling with never existed. but in the middle of the conversation, something clicked within you. 
You can‘t read him anymore and that scared you. 
“honestly i think this whole project is stupid,” hyunjin blurts out, capturing your attention. 
“hmm, why do you say that?”
“i just find it absolutely ridiculous to just judge someone based on one scenario, you know? like i bet all our guesses have been wrong so far,” he confesses and once again the guilt rushes to your heart and you were left speechless. 
“Like I really hate it when people judge others without getting to know them like who do you think you are? Do people who do that actually think they’re better or mightier?” Hyunjin continues and suddenly the space around you feels tight, your lungs struggling to find air. You were the type of person that Hyunjin would hate and that leaves an unsettling feeling in your stomach. 
Hyunjin notices this after a while of you not responding to him and just picking at your food. “y/n, you okay?” he says, eyes filled with worry and you can't help but let out a tear, quickly brushing it off as soon as it hit your cheek. You don’t deserve the way he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone that comes to hurt you. 
“Hyunjin...i’m sorry,” you let out quietly as you tried to stop the rest of your tears from water falling. Grabbing your bag, you ran out of the diner, leaving a very confused Hyunjin behind to wonder what you were apologizing for. 
four.
7 missed calls 
you don’t dare try to answer any of it. 
the thought of having to face the boy and explain the reasons for your apology hurts you knowing that he wouldn’t want anything to do with you afterwards. how do you even explain it to him? there is literally no plausible excuse: 
“hey yeah i’m the jerk that you hate because i judged your whole personality based off of five songs,”
“i only did it because i like superiority”
“it also helps me feel better about myself”
yeah. he’ll definitely hate you afterwards. and so you sulk in your room, letting out your frustrated cries, your blanket comforting you as the sound of your phone ringing filled the air. after the 12th call, the ringing finally stops and you feel like you can finally think until a knock on your dorm room brings you back to reality. 
“hey,” he sighs, your eyes immediately widening as you shut the door as quickly as you opened it. 
“y/n, come on!” hyunjin whines
“how did you know this was my room?” you yell through the door. 
“I asked around,” he shouts back “now can you let me in??”
You were frozen in place, hands gripped on your doorknob to make sure that he can’t come in. “Look, we don’t have to talk about what happened okay,” he starts, “but we do have a project due in 2 days and i would like to finish it...so please just ….. just let me in.” He finishes, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth once he comes face to face with the girl that has always been a puzzle to him. 
Entering your dorm room, you notice that the boy's hair is a bit disheveled and you wonder how many times he has let his hands run through them due to frustration. He’s doing his best to hide his furrowed eyebrows and keep a calm expression but you see through all of it. 
you’re doing it again. you think to yourself.  
“okay let’s just make up a scenario since we didn’t get one at the diner,” you suggest, finally breaking the silence that hung above the two of you. 
“why did you apologize?” hyunjin quietly asks, his gaze fixed strongly on you and you find yourself having to sit down due to the impact of his stare. 
“hyunjin…. you said we didn’t have to talk about it,” you responded, trying to change the subject. 
“I lied. I need to know the answers y/n. I need to know why you seem to see through my walls. I need to know how you dug a hole in my mind and stayed in it because I want you out. I don’t know what I’m feeling when it comes to you and I don’t like it.”
“How??? How can you see right through me?!”He frustratedly confesses, his voice getting louder with every question that leaves his mouth. 
“What?? are you a stalker??? Is that why you know?? have you been following me around ??”
“No!” you responded quickly, shutting down the assumptions that the boy has managed to come up with. 
“It’s your music.” you finally confess, your heart tightening as the words left your mouth, afraid of what’s to come next. 
Hyunjin stares at you, his mind finally connecting all the dots. The reason you asked for his playlist. The reason why you knew his stories and insecurities. All of it was because he gave you access to his music. And suddenly he felt bare. All his hiding, all the walls he put up, it was all useless when it came to you. 
“The last song in that playlist…” he starts but you finish the sentence for him, “please love me by colde,” your glassy eyes staring back up at him. 
“so, will you?” hyunjin asked, worry laced within his voice. 
“y-you’re not mad at me?” you stuttered, the boy's actions leaving your mind in a maze. he shakes his head. oddly enough, he didn’t feel any anger towards you. noticing that you were left in your thoughts to make sense of the situation at hand, he offers you a soft smile, “after knowing how troubled my mind was, you still stayed.”  
“i think i already do…” you confess, eyes fixated on him, “love you, that is,” you say mirroring the small smile that was on the boy’s face. 
At your confession, Hyunjin let’s out a shaky breath. 
“will you let me love you?” you ask him, a gentle tone laced within your voice, afraid of the answer to come. 
your eyes never breaking contact with his, you moved closer to him. hyunjins eyes darts down to your lips and suddenly the answer seemed so clear. 
love. 
the word that terrifies him the most. the thing that the boy has been swearing off ever since he was little. love was something hyunjin never understood but every time he looks at your eyes, every time he feels your warmth next to him, and now as your lips move in perfect sync with his, it all seems to make sense.
(a/n): this ending is so rushed and im not sure if im entirely happy with it but i really did not know what to do for the longest time. i was thinking of just scrapping the whole thing tbh but anyways....
feedback is always welcomed and my ask is always open :) 
thank you for reading! 
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pl-panda · 4 years
Text
Damienette arranged marriage: part 5
Yet again two chapters in one day... I must stop spoiling you.
Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Damienette arranged marriage: part 5
NEXT
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“Yes. Our little grown up girl.” Marinette smiled and was about to run, but she heard her mother continue speaking. “But you are still grounded for two weeks.”
“Mom!” She shouted, but smiled and went back to her room.
Next two weeks were disastrous. Lila used Marinette’s absence to spread some nasty rumors and lies about her. Two days. That was more than enough for the whole class to turn against her. The previous incident and Lila’s supposed ‘disability’ was never revealed to the public, so they had no reason to mistrust her. But Marinette was still suddenly ostracized. But the most painful of this was Alya. She suddenly started to despise Marinette. It was like some kind of coping mechanism. Apparently, learning she would never become Rena Rogue again was hard on her too, and then learning that Marinette run away from home (a blatant lie, but Alya did believe) was enough for the aspiring reporter to change. Abandoned by Ladybug, abandoned by best friend, she clinged to what she had left. Alya now followed Lila, who she believed would never just leave her like that. Her and Nino became even more inseparable.
Marinette wanted to give the same explanation, but Lila was faster. ‘ Oh! So even madame Bourgeois doesn’t want you now so you came back with your tail between your legs?’ This sole comment killed any credibility to anything Marinette would say. The rumors that started to spread were awful. Some just outright refused to talk with her, others went as far as to mock the girl or use some inappropriate names toward her. From a popular girl Marinette became a loner. Even her internet boutique was not safe. Dozens of negative reviews spawned out of nowhere. There were more reviews than she ever done commissions. In the end, she had to take the page down to keep at least some of her reputation.
She still had Luka and Kagami, who stayed firmly by her side. But they could not really do anything to help her at school. And then there was Adrien. He was constantly trying to stop Marinette from going against Lila and convince her to just make peace with the girl. She wanted to strangle him. He was nothing like the charming boy who offered her an umbrella on the first day. Something has changed in this forty-eight hours. There was this… weight on his shoulders that was not here before. 
Another matter was Chat Noir. When she first met him during a patrol, he threw a hissy-fit that she disappeared for several days. After she (truthfully) explained that she got married, the cat frowned and ran away. Since then, he was not seen. Ladybug had to manage on her own, with occasional help from Viperion and Ryuko. She had to manage. Red Robin would not help in the field, but he kept a steady eye on the city, working day and night trying to figure out who was Hawkmoth. Marinette was actually worried about Tim after she witnessed him drink coffee straight from an ancient jug. He said something about ‘needing inspiration from his ancestors’ which was quite hilarious since the vase was a cheap knock-off bough in one-euro store the previous day.
After a month of this kind of incredible hardship, Marinette had enough. She wanted this school-year to finally be over, but she still had seven more months to go. It pained her that school instead of offering her some help decided to instead follow up on Lila, making it seem like they forgot about her ‘disease’. Madame Bustier constantly demanded of Marinette to be the bigger person and ignore the taunts and headmaster few times threatened to expel her after Lila or the others reported her for bullying.
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Right now she was sitting in the back of the class when Madame Bustier walked with a boy in tow. Marinette instantly recognized him. Damian. He was wearing a dark-gray turtleneck jumper, dark-blue jeans and had his hair gelled back into spikes, revealing his forehead. Strange thing was that he carried a sword with him in addition to school bag.
“Students. Meet Damian Grayson. He is a member of exchange student from United States. Our school was chosen to participate in special program with Gotham Academy. Damian will be learning with us for this semester, and in exchange we will be able to all spend whole next semester in Gotham Academy to see how education differs between countries.”
Immediately, several hands shot up. Teacher chose Alix first, much to Lila’s anger. “It seems strange that just one student comes to us and in exchange we are all going there. Why are you alone?”
Caline was about to speak, but Damian was faster. He answered in perfect French. “Because only I volunteered to leave for half a year. Others were scared when headmaster announced that participants would at the end of semester have to take qualification exams.” His voice was cold and he made it clear he didn’t want more discussion.
“Don’t worry kids, on our side there is no such requirement, but you will have to still take the final exams to graduate into Lycee. Next question? Adrien.” She pointed to the blond boy.
“Why do you carry a sword with you?” He asked, pointing at the long weapon attached to his backpack. It was sheathed, but it was clear it was some eastern sword.
“Because I practice swordfighting.” Was the sole answer.
Marinette could hear some whispers. ‘ Whoa. He is almost as mean as Marinette’. She noticed he also picked this up and growled.
“What can you tell us about yourself?” Nino asked, not waiting for teacher to choose him.
“I am your age. I will be staying with my brother who works in Paris. I like art. I hate physical contact. If you try to touch me, I will throw you out of the window.” He said in completely emotionless voice, almost like this was casual speech he heard every day. 
“Wow. You are almost as mean as this bully Marinette.” Alya commented. Damian gritted his teeth. He knew that Marinette was anything but a bully. He checked the files Tim pulled and it only strengthened his opinion on the girl. She was dealing with being bullied by a spoiled brat since she was six, yet she chose not to retaliate and instead try to make friends with the gil. She was class representative, took care of all the trips, volunteered at every possible action. She won several amateur fashion contests and most likely had at least a dozen famous people at speed dial. And yet, no one knew that. She worked under pseudonym to avoid attracting attention. And she was Paris greatest superhero. That was no bully material. 
“Alya! Don’t say such things.” Lila scolded her friend. “Just because he is a bit harsh does not mean you should compare him to Marinette.”
There were still several hands in the air and teacher was about to choose next person, but Damian ignored them and walked to the back of the classroom and sat next to Marinette. There were several menacing stares in their direction and Damian held back the urge to scowl. So just because he took the only free place that just happened to be next to this girl, he was now their enemy? His hand kept twitching toward the blade, but he felt Marinette’s hand grab his under the table. She looked him in the eyes like she was trying to tell him that they are not worth it. And to his surprise, it worked. They silently turned back to the teacher who kept explaining the details of the exchange program.
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After the lessons were over, Damian started to pack his bag. His tracer rolled under the desk and he leaned to get it. There were steps rapidly approaching the desk.
“Listen here, Marinette. If you think just because this guy is new you will get him to be your friend, don’t even think about it. Either you stay away of him or I will make both your lives insufferable. I am the queen of this school and you will not oppose me.” The double-faced harlot tried to intimidate his wife. Damian, still under the table grabbed the sword, but from his place he could see Marinette’s face. She was giving him a side-glare telling him that it’s not worth it.
“I don’t control him Lila. Even if I wanted, I think he will do as he please.” Marinette was holding back a smile.
“Face it. I won the war. You have no friends, no name, no business, not even a boyfriend. I took everything from you. And if you continue, I will take your parents’ bakery next. You…” At this moment, Lila saw a silver blur and suddenly she had a blade pressed to her neck. Damian got out from under the table, drew his sword and pinned the girl to the wall in a matter of seconds. 
“I think that’s enough. You will leave Marinette’s parents alone and you will not speak to her like this again. Otherwise, you will learn just how proficient I am with the sword. Did I make myself clear?” While Damian was ready to spill some Italian blood, one look at Marinette told him that she would’ve not forgiven him. 
Lila eagerly nodded. When he let go of her and sheathed his sword, she scowled at the couple. “Ugh! The two of you are worth one another. It is not over. I will get back at you for this!” And with that, she run away as fast as humanly possible wearing stilettos. 
Damian turned to see frowning Marinette. “I had it under control Damian. And what are you even doing here?”
“Sorry I protected you.” He snarled, but then he calmed and his face took more friendly look. At least by his standards, but to most it was still the ‘get the heck away from me if you value your health’ face. Luckily, Marinette wasn’t like the most. “I… I wanted to meet you. As a person I mean.” He said. The french girl looked at him, but said nothing. He decided that it would be best to get this done with. The classroom was a place as good as any. “Look. I know we met in… unusual circumstances. For better or worse, we are now married. But… I wish to try and actually build this relationship.” He spat it out of himself and looked at Marinette.
For a moment, she was confused at what he said, but then it clicked. “Wait. Are you… asking me out?” She said in disbelief
“um… Yes?” Damian said timidly. Why does it have to be so hard?!
“Then okay.” Marinette smiled. This took him by surprise. He half-expected her to reject him, to hate him for this, or to just run screaming like his brothers kept telling him all girls would. 
“Really? Just like that?” It was now his turn to ask in disbelief.
“Yeah. I don’t really see why not.” She said smiling. “But I am paying. I don’t want anyone to think I am using you.” She stated firmly. This newfound confidence was a pleasant surprise for Damian. He noticed that while a bit shy and withdrawn, there was a heart of gold and nerves of steel underneath this. Happily, he took her hand and led her to the streets of Paris. Neither of them noticed a teenager in catsuit following them on the rooftops.
“I already lost my Lady. Nobody will take away my princess!”
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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn 
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holeyweasel · 3 years
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༄ daniel padilla, cismale, he/him + the color orange, impressive explosions, fireworks in the night sky, trolley carts ignited into flames, graffiti on stop signs, and quivering palms concealed by a nifty hand-buzzer. – is that george weasley ? their ministry records say that they are twenty-five , a pureblood , and went to hogwarts . currently they are the owner of weasley’s wizard wheezes . whenever i see them saintlike by jakey starts playing in my head. i think this may be because they’re astute & whimsical , but they also happen to be deviant & reticent . (       BIOGRAPHY. | PINTEREST. | PLAYLIST.     )
TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL & SUBSTANCE ABUSE / ALLUSIONS TO ALCOHOLISM.
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basics .
name & origin : george felix weasley ; based on the Greek word georgos; meaning farmer. the word georgos is a combo of two Greek words, ge (γῆ), meaning earth, soil, and ergon (ἔργον), meaning work. && george doesn't apply much of a personal meaning to his name; perhaps molly was following the trend of her late, twin brothers, gideon & fabian, or maybe it'd just been a coincidence. george doesn't know; it's possible he never will, since molly doesn't talk about her brothers that have passed too often. nicknames : forge, fred, georgie, gred, twin #2, & weasel. preferred name : george is fine. age & birthdate : twenty-five ; april first. gender & pronouns : cis male ; he/him. orientation : straight ; heteroflexible ; questioning. ethnicity & nationality : filipino ; english. hometown : ottery st. catchpole, devon, england. current residence : the loft above number ninty-three diagon alley. occupation : owner & operator of weasley’s wizard wheezes. hogwarts house / school graduated from : gryffindor.
miscellaneous .
phobias : he can’t be alone, because when he is, that’s when he gets into more compromising situations. he excessively relies on others to fulfill his own emotional needs (eg. fred, specifically) his codependency to fred ran, and continues to run, so deep that even his level of confidence changes without his brother around. he needs fred around to feel okay with himself. he fears being rejected and abandoned as lone unit; rather than the one collective unit he was with fred. quirks : when disinterested in something, doesn’t put the effort in; rarely expresses his true emotions unless it’s through anger; jokes so much it’s hard to tell when he’s being serious; sometimes doesn’t realize when a joke has gone too far & unintentionally hurts people’s feelings. when his emotions are too much to handle, can act rashly, and do something stupid; he often winds up in trouble since he couldn’t careless what others think. also he’s not great at overly complicated math. fred was better at math, while george is better at reading/writing/words in general. basic addition and subtraction is fine, but once you get to double digits? oof. he uses his fingers to count. hobbies : comforting others & giving advice anonymously, creating his own spells & potion recipes, dueling, inventing things, quidditch beating, quick-wit, speed reading, stand-up comedy; there’s never a dull moment with him; he’s always able to entertain an audience and make people laugh. likes : adventures, biscuits, breaking things, causing chaos & confusion, conjuring up ideas & schemes, creating inventions, discovering new things, explosions, fireworks, flashing lights, freedom, friendly debates, hippos, irony, jokes, laughter, memes, mum’s home-cooked meals, parkour, philosophy, petty arson, punching things, puns, quidditch, quotes, rebellion, rioting, sweaters, & unlimited knowledge. dislikes : being alone, being controlled, boredom, commitment, conformists, copycats, cucumbers, disloyalty, early mornings, feelings that aren’t joy, grapefruits, hypocrites (ironically), instant tea, judgmental people, ordinary living, pocket watches, purists, restrictions, school, sellouts, silence, sitting still, spinach, the government, the rich, the status quo, & unnecessary rules. wand :  10 ¾ inches ; dogwood ; dragon heartstring core. patronus : previously, his was a magpie; along with fred’s. since fred’s death, he struggled to conjure one for many years, but eventually was able to - and it’s now a peacock.  boggart : him, completely and utterly alone. without fred or just without anyone in general? the world may never know. reverse amortentia : burning cedar, broom polish, firewhiskey, freshly baked biscuits, & roasted chestnuts.
history .
➵ the fifth son born to arthur & molly weasley right after his twin brother, fred, george was practically born a prankster & inventor. after graduation, he planned to become a successful entrepreneur. from birth, both him & fred were attached at the hip; getting into all sorts of shenanigans together. not much has really changed regarding that. growing up, they successfully set off a dungbomb during christmas dinner, turned ron’s teddy bear into a spider after he broke fred’s toy broomstick, gave ron an acid pop that burnt a hole in his tongue, and nearly tricked ron into taking an unbreakable vow. ➵ during his first year, him and fred swiped the marauder’s map from filch’s desk; this aided more in their mischief. ➵ george, while not being a hat stall, could definitely have been a fair candidate for slytherin with his ambitious & cunning nature — if only he wasn’t a red-headed, reckless weasley. ➵ this curious boi might have a teeny, tiny case of undiagnosed ADHD. he definitely exhibits all of the symptoms; he’s never gotten officially checked out, though.  ➵ second year, he joined the quidditch team as beater. at one point, ron informed harry that george received ”really good marks” for his first few years. ➵ the summer before his fourth year, he stole arthur’s ford anglia with fred and ron. this was in order to rescue harry from the dursley’s and bring him to the burrow. ➵ the summer after fourth year, george went on a trip with his family to visit bill in egypt. with fred, of course, he tried to push percy into a pyramid. ➵ fifth year, he & fred graciously gifted harry the marauder’s map since they’d already memorized it. ➵ sixth year, he attended the quidditch world cup with his family, harry, & hermione. he and fred gambled on the outcome & won a great deal of money from ludo bagman. however, they were never paid, and harassed bagman all year. fred wanted to inform the ministry; george was against it since that’s considered blackmail. after harry won the triwizard tournament, he gifted fred & george his winnings to make up for their lost bet. they put this money away with the intention to invest it into their future joke shop. this is also the year they began selling their inventions and he took his ordinary wizarding level exams; received 3 OWLs in, what’s assumed, charms, defense against the dark arts, & transfiguration. ➵ seventh year, he spent the summer before school at 12 grimmauld place. after being given harry’s winnings, george had no interest in returning to school, but did anyway. he spent most of the year selling his and fred’s products. he also joined dumbledore’s army; not being a huge fan of umbridge. ➵ later that year, umbridge kicked him, harry, and fred off the quidditch team after george & harry got into a fight with draco malfoy. once the DA was discovered, george decided with fred, that he didn’t care about getting in trouble, and they began an all-out rebellion. they shoved an inquisitorial squad member into a vanishing cabinet, set off an array of fireworks that they made themselves, & created a portable swamp in the corridor. after the vandalism & chaos, george flew away from hogwarts with his brother; encouraging others, and peeves, to follow their example. ➵ after fleeing the castle, george worked with fred to establish a weasley’s wizard wheezes storefront. the summer before the golden trio set off for their sixth year, they had their grand opening. they remained open in diagon alley even while growing tensions of the war ensued. draco malfoy even purchased peruvian instant darkness powder from their shop, which assisted him during the battle of the astronomy tower. in theory, the twins unknowingly helped the death eaters twice, but we don’t have to unpack all that right now. ➵ him & fred lived in a loft above their shop. ➵ sometime after turning of age, george joined the order and assisted them during the battle of the seven potters. he was paired with remus lupin, and sometime during this mission, snape hit him with sectumsepra. he lost his ear and it was unable to be healed due to being cut off with dark magic. ➵ the burrow operated as a new headquarters for the order until they were ambushed by death eaters and they had to flee. ➵ george & fred were frequent guests on lee jordan’s radio show: potterwatch. ➵ george was hit with snape’s sectumsepmra curse and ended up losing his left ear. since it was dark magic, his injury wasn’t able to be repaired. he has permanent hearing loss and a scar where his ear used to be. he’s picked up BSL (british sign language) since the incident.  ➵ he split up from the rest of his family after the death eater ambush, but remained with fred. him & fred were apart of lee jordan’s radio broadcast, potterwatch, so it’s assumed they were with lee in some way. ➵ there was an incident where george, alone, was taken in front of the wizengamot while fred had stepped out for the afternoon. he was brought on charges of aiding and abetting the mass breakout of muggleborn criminals. supposedly, they had items sold at weasley’s wizard wheezes that’d aided in their ultimate escape. ➵ questioned & tortured at the hand of umbridge, they almost sent him off to azkaban… but the department of magical law enforcement requested time to gather more evidence to build a stronger case of george’s involvement. his blood status wasn’t in question, and therefore, he was free to go. ➵ during the battle of hogwarts, george lost his twin brother, fred, in an explosion orchestrated by augustus rookwood. the years that followed were absolutely the hardest thing he’d ever gone through.  ➵ upon fred’s demise, george might have taken up a biiit of a drinking problem. while it hasn’t entirely taken over his life, some would definitely consider him a “functioning alcoholic.”  ➵ depending on a potential charlie mun, after fred’s funeral, george followed charlie to romania in order to “travel” and “find himself” without fred able to stand by his side anymore.  he eventually stole a dragon from charlie and took it across the world. goooo georgie! he returned about a year after fred’s funeral initially took place. ➵ for quite some time, george struggled to conjure a patronus. with all of his “happy memories” linked to fred, the charm became quite difficult for him to perform. of course, george is a determined individual; he continued to try anyways.  ➵ eventually, two years after fred’s passing, george was able to cast a patronus. although, instead of a cheery magpie revealing itself, a peacock took its place. this was significant because, slowly but surely, george was beginning to detach his identity from fred. ➵ george continued to build the business he’d started with his late brother. these days, he fills his time with work; occupying his mind with weasley’s wizard wheezes instead of the void fred’s passing left within him.
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animesavior · 3 years
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“Greetings, residence of Kyokusei Dorm. We'll, from what I can see from here, you've all still got pitiful looks on your faces. At this point the end result is obvious, even without the Advancement Exam. Perhaps it would be easier if you all just left the academy right now. Only a brief time has passed since I came to stay with you, and while I have been staying here at the dorm, I've had many. let's just say, opportunities to sample all of your dishes. The flavors were often erratic and sometimes a complete mess. I've lost count of the number of times I've delivered my criticism. However, I can say with certainty, every dish of yours shared the quality of freedom. Now look, you'll never live up to your true potential if you continuing staying down in the dumps and just allow yourself to flunk out now. It's Pathetic! Are you going to roll over like this? It's not a question of getting through it. You must simply forge your own path with your cooking. If all of you have the will to fight on and wish to continue staying here, I shall use my God Tongue and support you in realizing your potential. Those of you without the will to fight should leave right now. I will only face this exam with those of you who have the strength needed to forge on. Now, if you believe you are truly honorable chefs, then step up to the plate and follow my lead!”
-          Erina Nakari, Food Wars: The Third Plate (Ep. 13)
The Toonami Trending Rundown for May 22-23, 2021.
On Twitter, #Toonami would successfully trend in the United States alongside My Hero Academia, Dr. Stone, Food Wars, The Promised Neverland, and Black Clover. Food Wars’ buzz would also produce a character trend in Erina, as Soma proves to her that he can be a great cook as his father. Meanwhile on Tumblr, #Toonami would also trend. The full list, including statistics and tweet counts from the Twitter app, can be seen below.
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This week’s feature was a video game review of Ghosts 'n Goblins Resurrection, the eight installment in Capcom’s Ghosts 'n Goblins series. It received an 8.0 out of 10 score.
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2021 marks the 50th anniversary of the Lupin the Third anime series, and to commemorate the occasion, TMS Entertainment has announced that Part 6 is in production, scheduled to begin broadcast in Japan this coming October 2021.
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TMS has released a trailer alongside a key visual drawn by character designer Hirotaka Marufuji. The text in the left-hand side says: “Lupin, Villain or Hero?”
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With COVID-19 relegating Anime Expo to a virtual event for the second year in a row, Aniplex USA will be bringing back their separate virtual event on YouTube this coming July 3rd, titled Aniplex Online Fest 2021. Demon Slayer will be a hot topic following the theatrical success of the Mugen Train film, and we could see potential news regarding the upcoming second season scheduled for next year, the Entertainment District Arc. Meanwhile, we’ll be seeing new information regarding Sword Art Online’s upcoming movie, -Progressive- Aria of a Starless Night, which is slated to premiere in Japanese theaters in the Fall.
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Finally, a reminder that tomorrow’s edition of Toonami (May 29) will include a schedule change. Current reruns of Dragon Ball Super will be moving down the lineup from midnight to end the block at 3:30 a.m. Eastern. The rest of the lineup will move up the schedule by 30 minutes respectively. The full schedule is as follows:
12:00 A.M. – My Hero Academia
12:30 A.M. –  Stone
01:00 A.M. – Food Wars
01:30 A.M. – The Promised Neverland
02:00 A.M. – Black Clover
02:30 A.M. – Naruto: Shippuden
03:00 A.M. – Attack on Titan
03:30 A.M. – Dragon Ball Super
Until next time, stay safe, be sure to visit blacklivesmatters.carrd.co and anti-asianviolenceresources.carrd.co to see what you can do to help the fight against racial inequality, and continue to do your part to stop the spread of COVID-19 and protect others by following your local health advisories. Stay at home unless essential purposes require you to go out, practice social distancing by staying six feet/two meters away from one another if possible, get your vaccine shots when you get the opportunity, and wash your hands thoroughly for at least 20 seconds.
Legend: The shows listed are ordered based on their appearance on the schedule. Show trends are listed in bold. The number next to the listed trend represents the highest it trended on the list (not counting the promoted trend), judging only by the images placed in the rundown. For the Twitter tweet counts, the listed number of tweets are also sorely based on the highest number shown based on the images on the rundown.
United States Trends:
#Toonami [Trended with #DrStone, #FoodWars and #ThePromisedNeverland]
#MyHeroAcademia [Trended with #DrStone]
#DrStone [#29]
#FoodWars [#6]
Erina (From Food Wars!) [#18]
#ThePromisedNeverland [#5]
#BlackClover [#30]
Tweet Counts:
#Toonami [5,769 tweets]
#MyHeroAcademia [9,721tweets]
#FoodWars [2,441 tweets]
Erina (From Food Wars!) [5,796 tweets]
#BlackClover [3,739 tweets]
Tumblr Trends:
#Toonami
Notes and Other Statistics:
#Toonami: @WhoTrendedIT reported that @BrittanyLaudaVO and @blumspew were responsible for the hashtag trending in the United States.
#ThePromisedNeverland: @WhoTrendedIT reported that @rightstufanime was responsible for the hashtag trending in the United States.
Special thanks to @BerMEWdez728, @Journeyman15, @sdurso5 and others I forgot to mention for spotting some of the trends on this list.
The Past Never Dies. Only Toonami on [adult swim] on Cartoon Network.
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fertility-journey · 3 years
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Birth Story
We tried many natural labour inductions methods to support our due date of Wednesday 24 March including; x3 acupuncture, x2 shiatsu massage, sex, long walks, raspberry leaf tea, dates, prune juice, and spicy food.
We gave birth to a beautiful healthy boy at 7:29pm Saturday 3 April 2021 (Easter weekend) weighing 3.27kg and measuring 51cm.
Our hospital offered us a debrief session with the head nurse and potentially obstetrician.
Short version
Having done a stretch and sweep earlier in the week on Monday at 1cm dilated, we were admitted to hospital on Friday evening to commence induction with prostaglandin gel. On Saturday morning in the birthing suite my waters were broken and oxytocin commenced an hour later since I hadn’t progressed beyond 1cm dilation. I was administered an epidural so I wouldn’t feel the contractions but knew they were happening via being hooked up to an Electric Fetal Monitoring (EFM) machine. I progressed to 4cm dilation and later 8cm dilation however each vaginal exam caused baby’s heart rate to drop. This called for an emergency caesarean as it was later found baby’s head was swollen and in malposition slightly transverse. The operation caused a postpartum hemorrhage (PPH) on my uterus where I lost over 1L blood. After being wheeled into recovery, I was then able to have baby placed on me for skin to skin. Once back in the room, drugs had worn off and I could feel one slow contraction for approximately 1.5 hours which was the worst pain of my life. The days following the birth was all about recovery and breastfeeding. I had two units of blood transfusion and iron infusion to try restore my hemoglobin levels which were halved. I had managed to stand up in the shower, do a poo and by the end of the week, walk down the hallway. Breastfeeding is a challenge with no milk supply so there were many discussions about progress each day and using donor milk and formula through supplemental devices to avoid bottle feeding. We were ready to head home Thursday morning after being in the hospital for almost a week. I cannot appreciate enough having flowers in my room since I didn’t leave it for days!
Long version
On Monday 29 March being 40w5d we went into the birthing suite to do a stretch and sweep. This was very uncomfortable as I squeezed my partner’s hand and looked into his eyes. One of the midwives was helpful in reminding me about hypnobirthing breath. Our obstetrician advised that I was 1cm dilated so hopefully baby would arrive soon. The midwife showed us a stretch to help relax my pelvis.
Our obstetrician wanted us back for induction on Wednesday or Thursday because of Easter weekend however we asked to push it out until Saturday.
On Friday 2 April being 41w2d we were admitted to hospital at 4pm to be given prostaglandin induction gel at 6pm. An electrical fetal monitoring (EFM) machine is used before/during/after. This was done in our private hospital room by a midwife and was once again very uncomfortable/painful. I was still only 1cm dilated. A different midwife returned at midnight for another treatment.
The following morning, Saturday 3 April being 41w3d we went to the birthing suite to receive a final treatment of prostaglandin induction gel by the midwife at 6:30am. This time I used a small amount of gas to ease the pain. There had been no change in my dilation.
Later, around 11:30am our obstetrician came in and broke my waters. I used the gas at a higher dose to ease the pain where I saw psychedelic colours for a brief moment. We thought we’d have time from here to continue waiting for labour to occur but was informed we’d start oxytocin within the next hour. It was suggested we go walk up and down some steps outside but was influenced to get an epidural. We had written in our plan that we don’t want this suggested and if we wanted it, we’d ask for it. So since they did suggest it, I thought I mustn’t be handling the pain well from the other procedures. I also thought that this was maybe a call to surrender and go with the flow. We had no time to go do stairs since the anesthetist was already in the hospital nearby and everything had to be set up ready to go on me for him to perform. We later found out that we shouldn’t have been rushed into this decision because the anesthetist is on call and could’ve simply come back.
The anesthetist ended up coming in later so there would’ve been time to walk a few stairs. He gave me the epidural which hurt and the midwife attached a catheter. This now meant I could not get up and leave the bed and would have the EFM constantly on. One of the side affects was feeling itchy across my chest.
The oxytocin could then commence to try start contractions. I couldn’t feel contractions since I’d had the epidural but the EFM showed I was. I was getting very shakey as a side effect but because of the calm environment, I could use my breath to suppress the shakes and try send baby downwards.
A different midwife started the next shift who was caring. She did a vaginal examination which I didn’t feel because of the epidural and said I was 4cm dilated. Moving into the evening, I had reached 8cm dilation with our obstetrician performing another two vaginal exams. Each time, baby’s heart rate would lower from having his head touched.
The song ‘Waiting’ by Kian started playing from my labour playlist. I said to my partner ‘how about the name, Kian?’. A quick google showed this meant ‘grace of god’ in Sanskrit, ‘ancient’ in Irish, and ‘king’ in Persian. All beautiful meanings which were discussed under fake candlelight in our calm birthing suite.
Now at approximately 7pm, our obstetrician made the call to do an emergency caesarean due to baby’s erratic heart rate and the fact I hadn’t progress from 8cm dilation. Everything changed quickly from here as a few extra people entered the room and I was maneuvered onto a different operation bed.
I was being wheeled to theatre and when arriving on the floor, met by a different anesthetist who was saying lots of disclaimers including that this operation could result in death - just what you want to hear. I required some further drugs for the operation so she was testing that I couldn’t feel the cold ice packs being placed on my body. She commended me on how calm I was or doing a good job at faking it! I was very conscious about remaining as calm as possible to ensure things could go as smoothly as possible.
It was exceptionally cold in the theater with many people in the room since everyone has an assistant. My partner was getting changed into scrubs and allowed to enter seated beside me once everything was set up. Coldplay was being played on someone’s phone.
Though probably only 15 minutes, it felt like a long time having the operation to retrieve baby. He came out safely and my partner got to announce he’s a boy. When I saw him I just said ‘oh my god’. He arrived at 7:29pm weighing 3.27kg and 51cm long. He had a swollen head which has been in malposition slightly transverse and had tiny cut on his eyebrow from the surgery tools. I had the opportunity to give baby a kiss.
From there things changed further, the cold had caused my shaking to dramatically increase and I couldn’t control it with the same breath I’d been practicing for hours in the birth suite prior. I was given some drugs to suppress the shaking and then the side effects of this was that I started vomiting. Because all this was happening, I didn’t have the opportunity to engage with baby as I needed to focus on myself. Warm towels were placed around my head.
My partner was able to look at the placenta which had a short umbilical cord which could also be a reason why baby wasn’t coming out.
I also started to experience some blood loss where my partner and baby left the room so staff could focus on me. I had a postpartum hemorrhage (PPH) on my uterus and lost 1.2L of blood. Essentially, once the placenta is delivered, the uterus should stop pumping blood to it and contract but for some reason it didn’t do this. Because I was a low risk pregnancy, there were no previous indications this could have happened. We read later that PPH has an incidence in Australia of between 5-15% and is one of the leading causes of maternal mortality.
Because there are numerous layers to the uterus, I was injected with drugs into four corners of my uterus to stop the bleeding as it was unknown where exactly the bleeding was coming from. This gave me a throbbing headache so I think I received some other drugs to counteract that which again made me vomit. If the drugs didn’t work things would have got more surgical and escalated quickly.
Once things had settled I was wheeled into the recovery room. Someone gave me water and I couldn’t believe how good it tasted. My partner entered the area and was shirtless having done skin to skin with baby. Baby was placed on my chest and I’m sad to say it’s the last thing I wanted but logic came in knowing it was so important for us to bond and physically connect. I got upset seeing the photo of baby on me with my head turned the other way. I was exhausted.
Following this, we were wheeled back to our hospital room and pain kicked in. My uterus needed to contract to its smaller size. Rather than periods of seconds/minutes or ‘waves’, I experienced a ‘tsunami’ of a long contraction with the most pain I’ve experienced in my life. I kept yelling “Omm” and then started profusely tapping my third eye trying to stimulate my parasympathetic nervous system. My partner was concerned asking me what I was doing. I knew I had to tell him so he wouldn’t worry. It was so hard to speak that I yelled “to deal with the fucking pain” - sorry babe. My partner reckons this lasted 1.5 hours. It took a while to get the anesthetist back to administer me with morphine and then for it to kick in.
By the time everything had settled and my partner was ready to get into the bed beside me (now that I have my own hospital bed in our room) he thinks it was about 4am.
A doctor had come to put a canula in my forearm since the nurses couldn’t do it since I was too pail. This is so I could receive some kind of rehydration liquids. I also had compression socks on which were plugged into a intermittent pneumatic compression (IPC) device to keep blood flowing and ensure I didn’t get a blood clot. Some nurses tried to freshen me up with wipe cleaning on my body since I’d sweat so much from the contractions.
After a couple of hours of sleep I could eat some breakfast and then shower. I couldn’t believe that I couldn’t sit up or get myself out of bed. I was put onto a wheely chair to go to the loo where I was bleeding and be showered by a nurse. The nurse encouraged me to stand to leave the shower but I then said “I feel fainty” and fainted. The emergency button was pressed so a team of nurses came in to get me back onto the bed.
Shortly after, blood test results showed that my hemoglobin had dropped 50% from 120 pre labour to 60 now which explained why I was so pale and fainted. Apparently the minimum is 80. My obstetrician said she rarely recommends blood transfusions but believes I needed two bags which we proceeded to do that night. Later in the week I also received an iron infusion.
Overall what happened was the opposite of our birth preferences/ plan. We knew previously that an induction would lead to a cascade of intervention which is why we tried to hold off as much as we could. The hospital policy is to be induced at 41w3d. I just can’t believe that what we knew would happen, did happen. In the moment when you’re in the hospital’s care, you think it must be there right thing to do... because they know what your preferences are, so why would the recommend or suggest a practice if it wasn’t necessary or there wasn’t a problem?
The need for my body to recover has impacted my ability and confidence to produce my own breast milk which was just a constant pressure during the hospital stay. There was an overwhelming amount of professionals and nurses always entering the room to check on something or give advice on something. We relied on them to provide us with donor breast milk or formula which wasn’t always timely and was surprised to see that the meals provided weren’t postpartum nourishing. Though we weren’t allowed family or friends to visit because of Covid-19 guidelines we only just managed one hour of spare time to FaceTime family and a few friends to share the news of baby’s arrival on the Monday. Wednesday was the first time
I left the hospital room to walk up and down the corridor. Though heavily supported in the hospital (we particularly appreciate a few nurses and the head nurse), we were so ready to be discharged at 10am Thursday 8 April to get home. It had been almost one week since I’d had fresh air and been outside.
The following day Friday 9 April we announced on social media the arrival of our baby.
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soranihimawari · 4 years
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West Coast kind of Love
 Summary: There were certain things you know off the top of your head. One, the fact that popcorn and M&Ms should not be sold separately at the local movies is a crime; two, every other Monday of the month, the neighborhood film club would host dollar monster movies (where one of your neighbors in your apartment complex would frequently attend); and three, you might have to pinch yourself when he asks you to take a photo with you as a proof of “how things are going abroad” to his friend in Argentina...
Word count: 4.685K
Taglist: @m0nstergeneration20xx 📷 (google docs proof reader), @oitoorus​, @tkags & her ⛅ (anon fam) , @oikawalovely [open still]
“Do what you love and the rest will follow”-proverb
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--September XX--Thursday, 23:13 (11:23pm)
“Oh come on Yukihira,” you knocked on the closed bathroom door of your apartment.”You know I called dibs to the bathroom after we ditched those jerks at the dancehall.”
Every month you and your roommate took turns in choosing public places to go out for a night on the town. With midterms coming up for what would be the junior year of your undergrad studies, your roommate decided giving a double date a try. Unfortunately for her, those jerks were thinking of doing the deed way too early for either of your liking. You decide that spilling your peach Bellini on your friend’s outfit during the middle of the date was the perfect excuse to end the night early. More often than not, you mostly came along these dates with her as an enforcer. You two might be as different as night and day (yukihira studies medicine all hours of the day whereas your focus was the visual arts). Tonight was just one of those nights where you being there was beneficial.
“Ugh, fine,” she said opening the door revealing her freshly brushed grin. “I can’t believe you had the gall to ruin that outfit y/n.”
“Hey, whatever helps you throw it out like you did your ex then I was doing the Lord’s work for you, Yuks.” You rolled your eyes at her when she stuck out her tongue when you slithered into the ivory tiled washroom. This earned a laugh from the other member of your household.
“But because this was a bad date and I didn’t think things through this time again, that means I get to set you up on a blind date.” Her singsong voice reached your ears as you turned on the faucet to drown out her mocking tone. You paused for a brief moment while waiting for the make up remover serium to bubble up on your face before wiping it off effectively.
“With who?” you asked after you patted your skin dry post-makeup removal ritual complete. Your hair was undone from the hair elastic you pulled out of your inherited islander curls.
“I don’t know. Hmm...Maybe the guy in unit 23C? He’s awfully cute,” Yukihira mused as you leaned in her doorway. Her brows wiggled in delight when she noticed how you stared at your neighbor on move in day during your freshman move in day three years prior.
“Iwazumi? You can’t be serious,” you said. Your voice betrayed you because your eyes shined like the gods of furtune finally found their way to you.
“Do you want to or not? He’s focused, witty, determined; I have my physiology study group with him tomorrow. Why don’t you come with, best friend of mine?”
You really hated when she pulled the puppy eyes on you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to refuse (not by a long shot).
“Ask him if he prefers coffee or tea.”
A few days later, you came home from your department’s masters class with your portfolio sling over your shoulder. Your hands were covered in literal ink stains from your latest mural macro-micro project.
“Hey, Yukihira! Have you seen where I kept my lacquer thinner?” You raise your voice slightly as you kick off your shoes by the entrance hallway. It was only then you realize there were a couple of other pairs of shoes that did not belong to either of you. That’s when you remembered your friend’s warning about her study group coming over. All color drained from your face when you rounded the corner to your living room area converted into a mini lecture hall. You clear your throat to announce your presence which went unnoticed (with the exception of your roommate). Without even looking at the board, you chose to mess with the med students’ practice case.
“And I’m telling you this is a bilateral cut to the optic nerve, Josefina.”
“The microabraisons on the left thoracic cavity allowed the victim to bleed out on the table due to the elevated use of blood thinners, ” your voice quiets the pre-med students and you smile in a nonchalant manner. You have read this problem with Yukihira so many times prior at the start of the semester that you were able to recall the prognosis off the top of you head. Being friends with a pre-med major does have its redeeming qualities although you were seen mostly honing your crafts in the art department and this was just the prime time of their study week. 
“Oh! You’re back early,” Yukihira says in a warm tone. She stands at the end of the table in between you Her eyes glazed over as if to communicate that you were about to be formally introduced. You bite your tongue prior to allowing your roommate to clap her hands together as she went naming every member starting with the person on her left who was the aforementioned Josefina. When she had come full circle, her voice trailed off with a small apologetic smile.
“Aaaand this here is my roommate, y/n. To answer your question about the lacquer thinner, I put the bottle on your desk when it arrived last time,” Yukihira made sure to watch everyone’s response. She was more interested in seeing how the third member of her study group (the aforementioned neighbor in 23C) would react. His minuscule smirk was doubly noted, prompting you to fill the few seconds of silence with your own voice. After a brief trip down memory lane, spear headed by your best friend as they took a break from studying for a moment, Yukihira explained after years of being friends you learned about the medical cases for exams via osmosis. You were an unofficial member of the study group since the medical arts building was located near the visual arts department offices on campus. You chose to not let them be pushed back any further especially since their content exam was coming up later that month, so you bid them good luck.
“Don’t mind me,” your brass tone conveyed an even temper at the time. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to head to my room. You guys aren’t the only ones with an exam this week.” You raised your portfolio canister so they could see the poster sized dyed cylinder. Reams of paper filled with sketches made from ink and graphite poked through under the flourescent lights of the kitchen dining room table. The med students along with Yukihira waved and said it was lovely to meet your acquaintance.
With that you made a beeline route to your room, opened the door, and promptly shut the door. You dropped your portfolio canister next to your desk, turned up the volume of the lo-fi radio station playlist on your sound system, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a muffled shriek to expel the remaining bits of embarrassment your friend threw you in. You were good at smaller group studies, but to be fair, given the fact that your friend was a social butterfly, you mostly seemed to rub off the “talented-artsy, yet focused,” type of woman. That night you cleaned up your outline for your stencil art piece of a fox and a hound for your take on minimalism class which had its peer critique at the end of the week.
You didn’t physically speak to Yukihira for the rest of the week. With both of you burning the midnight oil within the last few days before the exam, you noticed that the number of study group being held in your apartment had become the norm every other day (causing you focus more on a certain individual). Funny thing was he was also doing the same thing...
『from Yukihira: how many times do i have to apologize? You know I didn’t plan on having an emergency study session with iwazumi. He just showed up & wanted to chat. Besides the TA & professor chose to move up the exam date...』
『from y/n: you should of told me earlier before I came home. You know I forgive you... only if you buy me the latest ice cream along with the new Jun Ito novel. I’ll be out there in a minute till make some coffee for us.』
『from Yukihira: Mmkay & thanks. Coffee sounds good right about now anyways.』
--October XX-- Friday, 15:55 (3:55p.m.)
The weekend came through soon enough and on a Friday afternoon with no where to go, you were chilling at the comfort of your own living room. You were quick to thank the test gods for the exam being moved up once you had a proper conversation with Yukihira that morning. She mentioned she was going be out all day making sure she was able to finesse her study guide with her fellow medical study group. Since it was the end of the week, Josefina opted to have a free for all study day at the book store for those who wanted to go over last minute things according to the note yukihira left on your door that morning.
At the time of the day, you were expecting to be alone, curled up with your favorite cup of English Earl Grey Tea and a Lovecraft radio program you downloaded via the student Spotify network. Your phone vibrated and pinged with a notification from the bookstore where Yukihira placed the order for your horror novel to arrive sooner than the estimated timeframe. Because life finds it funny to pull another prank on your clown assery with your little cynical attitude, you were startled when the formal knocker was used.
“Shit!” you said when you clutched your heart as you placed your cup of tea down on the coffee table. As your put two fingers on your neck’s pulse point, you waited a few minutes for your heart rate to calm back down; you stood up and began to make your way down the hallway. Lo and behold, you were greeted by a casually dressed man who was clutching your new novel in his sunkissed hands. 
It takes your brain a few synapses to register that it was Iwazumi who has been taking a liking to coming over for extra study hours with your roommate, but if anyone asked him to reply honestly, he wanted to know more about you. The human body has more than 240 bones, yet the more frequent his visits become, the more he felt himself become accustomed to befriending you both. There were instances where you joined them at the kitchen table glancing at their open notebooks and case studies; you often made tea or coffee depending on the hour of the day. On the days you had come home from the art department, Yukihira was quick to notice how Iwazumi’s usually tense face seemed to visibly relax when you came to prepare your favorite snack (m&ms and buttered popcorn). Your friend was quick to relay a text to his phone, which caused her study partner at the table to become more flustered than he already was. 
Regardless of the various near misses over the next couple of weeks between you and Iwazumi (sometimes it was Yukihira’s fault other times, it was coincidental juxtopostional humour: it has happened twice on Iwazumi’s side when his friends back home noticed he was not at his usual place. [Yukihira called for a mini-study break] However, that didn’t stop you from asking him if he preferred sugar or honey for his tea & all hell broke loose (Hanamaki & Mattsun were cheering him on while Oikawa.exe has dropped the call).
All this back and forth for the past five weeks caused this moment to occur:
“I-Iwa-chan?” your voice went up several octaves before clearing your throat with a cough. “If you’re looking for Yukihira, she’s actually not here at the moment...” 
“To the scientist there is the joy in pursuing truth which nearly counteracts the depressing revelations of truth.”
The audio from your radio program was keeping you company. The disembodied voice coming from the main sound system you helped set up when you first moved into the building with Yukihira quoted Lovecraft as the program continued to serve in the role of filling the silence between you and Iwazumi. The gods really did that, didn’t they? your thoughts were running away with you again, chasing a reality that would be yours--or so you think. 
During that thought hurricane you conjured up, you decided to pause the train of thought for a few minutes. You released your hold on your front door knob as you pulled the door a little wider in order for you to lean against the frame of the front door. Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun (on your days off, you were typically clad in tapered mint green pants and a spare white button down blouse due to laundry day), but it was enough to see the usual semi-talkative and stoic demi-god of a neighbor wear such an embarrassed expression. You pretended to not hear the barely audible, “woah,” that escaped his mouth prior to him holding up the book to you. 
“Did the mail carrier drop it off to your box again?” you ask taking the book in your hands. “Sorry about that. You can come in if you want.” 
You were quick to notice that something caught your arm in an attempt to stop you from walking. When you chose to not try to pry yourself away from Iwazumi’s hold, he took it as a sign to bend himself to your ear and say the following in a powerfully low tone: “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t looking for her?” 
“Yes,” you say in a timid manner, yet it was paired with a curt nod. You both had the tenacity to swat away any lingering negative thoughts.
Iwazumi took this moment to turn you around to face him by the arm he held you with. His smile disappeared when he let your arm go and instead moved his hand to hold yours with his opposite hand, he pulled the door shut behind him. You were probably too proud to admit this aloud, nonetheless, you liked the way Iwazumi’s firm grip felt in your hand; his were rough and calloused as much as yours were from years of honing your independent crafts. You gave him a kind smile before your neighbor decided to take advantage of the fact that the other person in your apartment wasn’t home; you squeezed his hand slightly and he let your hand go. 
You placed the Jun Ito novel on the kitchen counter motioning for Iwazumi to meet you there. Your kettle was still warm, however you made a cheeky joke to your newly acquired friend. (Perhaps this was Yukihira’s plan, you think). You reached into the dishwasher and was about to pour him a cup of tea, yet you couldn’t help but make a small joke at his expense for holding your hand so intently. 
“For the record, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could have done so earlier,” you mention stifling a laugh, pouring the steaming water into the mug. Iwazumi mumbled something about how he liked the way your hand fit, yet you chose to throw caution to the wind and quickly planted short kiss on his cheek when you extended the cup toward him after placing the tea strainer in it. 
With one hand on yours and the other was wrapped around the ceramic mug,. Your kindness was always something Iwazumi found alluring. You might not have been in the same course of study as him or Yukinira, yet you were good finding the beauty in the mundane. A few of your pieces of work were hung around the apartment and from his line of sight, your dedication to your craft was something to be admired.With every sip he took a sip to deflect from the way his thoughts were heading into uncharted territories; OIkawa, Mattsun, and even Makki were the ones more verbose on love & conquest during the days of their you:
“You’re always over at your neighbors’ place, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teased. 
“I wonder what his reason is,” Makki muses. “Mattsun thinks it’s a girl. Typical.”
Makki also noticed one of your sophomore symposium art pieces hanging behind the place where Iwazumi was sitting at the time of their weekly video call. Your avant-garde view of  viewing the world was enough to set the sky amethyst hues. California does have it’s moments of striking beauty and somehow Iwazumi found it hard to keep to a straight face around his friends. His expression was usually hardened or bold, but today you sat across from him at the beginning of the call, reading up on the use of gold leaf detail work for your art restoration classes. Across the myriad of scattered medical books and various notes that were pertaining to another medical case were a tell that their friend was clearly not alone. You glance up at him quietly, a minute smile formed between you two; you write on a spare piece of paper the word, “friends” to which he nodded. 
“Aww, is our little ace growing soft on us?” Oikawa’s whining was something you often heard Yukihira describe after nights like these.(She usually hung out in your room as you were placing the final touches of your latest art assignment. This month was dedicated to historic downtown with a twist of horror: modern mania & the ruiner of man. Right now, you didn’t mind the shared space of the dining room while Yukihira was out on a grocery run at the time the call was initiated.)
“Shut your mouth Shittykawa,” Iwazumi barks. His dark eyes hardened like stone and that was when Makki let out a wicked grin. 
“I owe Mattsun 500 yen,” Makki chuckled. 
“Holy shit,” Oikawa’s eyes bounced between his best friends and let out a low whistle. “if this woman is capable of such an amazing feat, ask her if she has a friend [for me].”
Iwazumi ended the call right then and there. He didn’t expect his heart to be beating so irratically when you walked room in your house attire for a moment to make yourself a cup of the same Earl Grey Tea. The hazy lights emitting from your room blended effortlessly with the flourescent ones in the kitchen; each beam clung to your body in such away Iwazumi was glad neither of his friends witnessed the moment he fell in love with California and all that came with it. 
This afternoon was a different story as you liked the way Iwazumi allowed his natural blush to bubble to the surface of his cheeks and you could swear you saw a fraction of the high school volleyball ace shine through. The sunlight danced around the stainless steel details of the kitchen where you shared secrets, recipes, and drinks with your best friend. His free hand chose to move away from the counter finding its resting place under your chin. The cup of tea Iwazumi held earlier was placed next to the stove on the coaster by the sink. 
You steady your breathing right before you felt Iwazumi’s breath on your cupid’s bow; his lips pressed against yours gingerly as though he felt his brain light up and catch a fire he needed to not run away from; everything he wanted to know about you was answered as soon as your hands cup his face. I think I like this, your conscience is egging you on to pursue his touch for a while longer. It was a silent acknowledgement of the other’s presence in the present moment. 
“Hm,” you hear him hum in mutual amusement when you return his kiss. The pads of his fingers trace the highest points of your face teasingly. He wanted answers to the questions your lips asked. When you two separate for a moment, you realize you might have been too forward, but when you move your hands away from his face only to hug him in a loose embrace, you couldn’t help the next words from posing a question.
“Do you want to kiss me again?” your coquettish tone made Iwazumi’s answer very apparent as you suddenly took into account the last couple of weeks and the way both of you came to enjoy each other’s company during study group hours at either your place as the primary location or the cafe down the road from the apartment complex. (Iwazumi’s frequent visits weren’t for tutoring necessarily, about a majority of the time it was to see you as an added bonus). 
Iwazumi did not have to be told twice; he enveloped you in his strong arms, he hoisted you up from under your knees and placed you a top the counter with gentle assertive force. Your legs wrapped around his fit waist as you gripped his biceps for leverage prior to letting the old ace prove his strength by placing you on top of the graphite counter like a doll. 
“Comfortable?” Iwazumi’s expression was more seductive than profound.
“Very,” you reply as you unwind your legs from his body. “Where were we?”
Your hands wrapped around his neck before pulling him close to you again. A smug smile cut across both of your faces for a brief moment until your lips hovered over his for the second time. This time, you let him kiss you the way you knew he had been meaning to since he showed up at your door less than fifteen minutes prior book in hand. When Iwazumi kissed you at the current moment, the world crumbled and fell away; it was somehow comforting in a way that words would not compare to. His actions listened to the way you were setting the pace with the same tenacity as he showed you. The scent of his sandalwood conditioner mixed well with your ocean scented dry shampoo. 
Your eyes were still closed when you felt your hands card through his ever-present spiky hair. His right hand rested below your ear, using the pad of his thumb and forefinger to caress your cheek and jawline again. You feel him smile against your own lips when you nipped the corner of his mouth playfully. You break apart long enough for your partner in the kitchen to began to sneakily undoing your top two buttons of your blouse to press his lips against your exposed skin. You let out a whimper in the heat of the moment the second his lips began to leave a trail of reverberating echoes in the simplest of ways securing his hold on your soul that very day.
“Beautiful girl,” Iwazumi murmurs as his eyes met yours when he was done having his fun. His voice was cautious, but when his arms began to hover over your own, you felt your heart rate speed up right as he told you this: “Tell me, what other sounds can you make for me?” 
“Is that a challenge?” you retort, your hands disappearing under his hoodie to feel the fabric of his undershirt. Your hand stopped roaming atop of his chest; he was liking this. You could tell by the way he was taunting you with his smirk. “Because I was wondering the same thing. Do you want me to remove my hand?”
“No.”
Your hands could have been made of branding tools and Iwazumi wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. He chuckled at your question before you brought him down to your level and your lips met again. The sound he made upon impact was as though you broke him yet healed him at the same time; time was on your side for this one and you proved he wasn’t the only monster in the kitchen. There was a hunger there behind every kiss you let him have; you were smiling in the between long enough to feel his heart beat faster through the fabric of his undershirt.
Your hands automatically removed themselves from his shirt and were found holding on to the aglet of the drawstrings from the hoodie he was wearing. Iwazumi kissed your fingers before proceeding with posing a question to you.
“Just so we’re clear,” your voice was bold and daring. It was one of the many things he liked about you both in and out of campus grounds. The small details was what Iwazumi liked the most and the subtle tells of how you, Yukihira, and even the other members of the study group didn’t make him feel so alone like when he first arrived to California to study.
“Whatever this is between you and I, does it mean we’re...together?” 
You make a sign in the air with your palms up and point between you and him. Iwazumi clears his throat as he taps his lips to tease you and that was when he saw it: a younger version of you covered in sidewalk chalk in your neighborhood (much the same as you saw reflections of the former ace/vice captain).
“If you’ll let me take you to the Monster Movie marathon on Monday,” he answered when he linked his right hand digits with your left and you capture his lips again on your own volition. Your ears perked up at this, you drop the string you played with and patted his chest with a light rapt. 
“Eager to make me your girlfriend aren’t you?” You laugh and Iwazumi furrowed his brows, but you silence his worries in one swift and simple move: you kiss him with the intent of either being his salvation or his torment, either way Iwazumi was not complaining. The girl who loves to read about Lovecraftian monsters and the boy who was a monster chaser shared a love as unique as themselves: like a secret they each wanted to keep  behind closed doors.
His only vice was the fact that his social call was coming to an end and every ounce of his well being was fighting to stay here with you. You back down for a moment only to showcase your best attempt at a flattering smile to match his own. Iwazumi would never let you know this at the time, but seeing that smile on your face made his list of top three things he found most precious in the world. This wasn’t a crush anymore was the proper conclusion you both concluded. 
“Meet at your place at 7:30,” you suggest. Iwazumi released your hand from his to step back as you hopped down from the kitchen counter you made a seat of. 
“I’ll see you then ‘Ms. Lovecraft’.” The nickname he bestowed upon you was one that made the butterflies come back in a flurry; this was the start of something special, but you didn’t know it at this point in time that the name will be used to describe your affinity for Iwazumi’s unyielding devotion to you (the seeds were planted in both of your hearts and the two of you waited for them to bloom).
Iwazumi made his way back toward the hallway and faced your apartment’s front door again. You refastened both buttons he undid prior to reaching for the door knob. 
“For what it’s worth,” your not-so-innocent tone in your voice begins to come through. His darkened eyes observe you undo your top knot and shook your shoulder-length hair to reveal the fullness of your wavy locks. You place your hand on his wrist and the other was on the door knob. He stopped you from opening the door with a softened glance; pressing his lips lightly on your brow bone. 
“I really like it when you come over Iwazumi. Thank you for dropping off the book.” You tap your fingers thoughtfully on your lips as a silent form of thanking him for the other part outside of the tangible order.
“Hajime, y/n,” he whispers his given name in your ear in order to get one last rile out of you before kissing your temple, and you could swear you could hear your heart beat in your ears. “Call me that from now on, ok?”
“Ok,” you swiftly reply. “Only if you continue to call me Lovecraft, haha.”
Iwazumi takes his leave when he thinksof how the next time he sees you, it’ll be filled with magic, mayhem, and the movie playing in his heart was one he would like to share with you for as long as it takes.
You rush to your room to retrieve your cell phone and immediately text Yukihira who was in the middle of her break between classes:
『from y/n: i have a date on monday night. the book came btw. thanks yukihira』
『from Yukihira: iwazumi asked you to go out with him, didn’t he? have fun and remember to not do anything i wouldn’t do. ;) 』
『from y/n: of course. and even if we did, i wouldn’t even hear the end of it from you. you’d might have an easier time talking to iwazumi than me, let’s be honest.』
『from Yukihira: (n˘v˘•)¬ oh you know me so well. see you later tonight.』
—November XX, 14:43 (2:43pm): 
First dates & a glimpse into their social medias (ft. Iwazumi, Babs (y/n), & Yukihira)
Iwazumi credit
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Suffice to say that Mondays became your favorite day after this kiss...😌
Bonus:
Instagram posts from our UCIrvine trio ft. Iwazumi, Yukihira, & Y/N-san
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187days · 3 years
Text
Day One Hundred Thirteen
My GOV students had their first test today. It’s a shrunken version of the AP exam, basically: 35 MCQs and 3 FRQs based on the first two units of the course. They’ve done lots of practice questions, we had a test review session yesterday, and I was sure they were going to do fine. They were less sure, though. One girl walked into class and immediately asked, “How we feeling about this? Anyone else feeling questionable?” 
Pretty much everyone else felt questionable.
But I’m hoping that when they see their grades, all of which are passing, they’ll gain some confidence in their test-taking skills.
I know there are a couple students who will want to do retakes to do a little bit better- like bring their 3s to 4s, maybe- and that’s fine. These are students who are taking their first social studies AP course, so there’s a bit of a steep learning curve for them, but they’re still at a good starting point (something I will reiterate to them if they’re feeling disappointed). Everyone else straight up crushed it. 
Seniors are allowed to leave early at the end of the day, and since I wasn’t doing anything else with my class time today, all of my Block 2 students left as soon as they finished the test, which meant my classroom was empty by 12:30. So I had a nice, long prep block today! I used it to grade, and chat with Mr. W, and get ready to teach World on Monday. I had to post materials in Classroom, set up my boards, make photocopies, all that jazz. 
I also might be getting a new student- a transfer- so I’ll have to figure out where they’re at in terms of content knowledge and skills, but that’s for next week. For now? It’s the weekend!
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