I usually work in computer lab 203, the one on the second floor. It’s crowded and always noisy, a lot of the students from the techier fields frequent it. It’s always filled with the noise of speaking, often conversations, but sometimes you can hear the hushed voices as well, the whispered rumors of the odd behaviour of some students at this place, about the weird rumors running around the other programmes, the “artsier” ones in particular.
They all whisper and scoff, as if they were insane, about how their weird superstitions and habits were unwarranted and nothing was odd or off about the university besides the students themselves. Yet… as much as they laugh and shake their heads at these things, I’ve never seen any of them ever take a step into 502. The computer lab on the 5th floor, the highest floor in the building. I’ve been there. Many times. Any time my code is fighting against me and just not getting done, and I’m about to hit the deadline (admit it, we’ve all been there) I go up there.
That place… it’s like one of those weird corners in a library. Empty. Forgotten by everyone, even time. I’m not sure what it is about it, but I always seem to somehow be able to urge a couple more hours out of the day when I sit there. I like it up there, it’s quiet and calm, it lets me work in peace. I always get to pick my favorite seat, the one rig that’s seated at the window, overlooking the grounds below, and letting me see the sun setting (and more then once: rising) accross the sky. The first time I found it I asked some of my classmates why nobody ever used it. “It’s 3 stories higher than the other one, why bother?” They answer with a shrug.
I talked with some of the others about it, about the same answers from all of them. Until I met one of the english majors. They gave me a look as if I’d gone insane. I was then stuck in a almost hour-long rant about the same things we’d been told when we got here. How I shouldn’t visit “off” places and not go around this place “unprotected”. I didn’t really think too much about it, everyone has a right to think whatever they want and such. But going through all the trouble they insisted I should do? to hang out in a computer lab room? I just couldn’t see why that’d matter.
That attitude changed fast. I learned fast to bring an additional cup of cocoa and ‘smellows when I needed to visit. The cup would always be emptied when I came back, I’d check the login history of every machine. leave small traps in the door and leave clutter around in the room to check if anyone walked in when I wasn’t looking or if a cleaner just took it. It was always the same, only my “gift” was taken, nobody entered or used the room besides me and nobody was there to clean. There was always only me. Well, there were no other students or people at least.
I learned to ignore the brushing feeling that often ran across my shoulders. To put my music up extra loud in my ear, not listen to the other noises and conversations. I made a habit of buying extra salty snacks, let the bags of leftover salt lie around where I moved a lot. I’ve started keeping my backups and more treasured files in a usb drive safely kept around my neck in an iron chain.
I’ve gotten used to it, and to be honest. The price is worth it. I have this entire room to myself now and have networked all the machines. I have more computing power than a lot of the other students could only dream to reach in the cluttered rooms below. And the alone time is honestly pretty nice. Even if it can get pretty difficult to leave the room sometimes… when the rising sun again paints the unused screens in the colors I pretend not to see, ignoring the promises and words they tell me…
Bucky x Reader
Warnings: cheesyness I guess lol
Anon Request: Hello! I was thinking if you can write like the reader and bucky have been dating for a while but the avengers didnt notice until- im not really sure what happens, but when they find out theyre like “I thought you guys were just flirting” (or something, im sorry im not really good at this) but reader and bucky havent been exactly subtle in doing pda? I know its not exactly easy writing fanfics so it will be deeply appreciated if you did write this. Thank you so much in advance
A/N: Yes! First request in forever, I’ll be glad to write this for you love :) <3 I hope it’s what you wanted, feedback would be great! (Ps. Sorry if this sucked!)
I walk in the main room, sitting in my favorite seat. Bucky’s lap. “Hey babe,” I said, kissing his stubbly cheek gently. In my perspective, I see Bucky and I as a cheesy annoying couple. But to others, we were just a pair of flirty assassins.
“Look at those too,” Natasha says from afar, talking to Clint. “I know, all they do is flirt with each other and they won’t admit to each other that they’re in love.” “Like look, (Y/n) is already all up on him.”
I was stroking Buck’s cheek, giggling at his comments. “You look lovely today darling, like always,” he winks. He’s so cheesy but I like it.
Natasha rolled her eyes at the sight of us,“they’re so disgusting.”
I get up to grab a snack from the kitchen, where Nat and Clint were.
“Hey,” I said. “Hey love bird,” Nat smirked, “ask him out already.” “What? What are you talking about?” “We know your secret (Y/n),” Clint says, standing next to Nat. “What secret?” “It’s so obvious, I can’t believe how oblivious you two are!” Nat yells out, causing Bucky to turn our way. He too, gets up from the couch, walking towards us. “What’s going on here?” he says. “Don’t act like you don’t know,” Clint says, narrowing his eyes at Buck. “Know what?” he says, putting his arm around me. “THAT YOU TWO LOVE EACH OTHER!” they yelled in unisons. Bucky and I just laughed, “we know,” I said, “we tell each other that everyday.” The two look at us with a confused expression, “what?” “The only oblivious ones here is you two,” Buck says. “Everyone knows that we’re dating. It’s been a while now.” “What!?” Nat yells out, “since when?!” “I thought you guys were just flirting…”
Theatre is your life. You’ve been in plays since you were able to speak coherent sentences. You started out in small roles in community theatre but have now evolved to lead roles in high school productions.
You were recently cast as Fiona in your school’s production of Shrek. You couldn’t have been happier. You just hoped you could do Sutton Foster justice. The only issue was that Fiona doesn’t wear glasses. That means that you had to purchase contacts because if you didn’t, you couldn’t be able to see a foot in front of you.
Your mom suggested that you wear them a few weeks in advance to musical so you’re used to them when you perform. You really didn’t want to, but you knew she had a point. You didn’t want to be worrying about them while you were singing. You were just worried about what people would say to you. You’ve worn your glasses since the 2nd grade, they’ve become a part of who you are.
For being in theatre, you really didn’t want people to notice you. It was different when you were performing, you weren’t you. You were someone else. You didn’t mind talking to people, not at all. You just weren’t a fan of people whispering about you in the hallway. But, you sucked it up and put in your contacts right before you were leaving for school.
You wanted to stab your eye out! You the entire car ride, you felt like there was an eyelash in your eye. It took every ounce of willpower you had to not rub your eye. Then when you got to school, the one thing you didn’t want to happen, happened.
Jared Kleinman walked right up to you and loudly announced for every surrounding person to hear, “Wow! Y/L/N, you look so weird without your glasses.”
“Thanks, Jared.”, you grumbled at him as you made your way into the school. People were doing exactly what you feared as you walked down the halls, they were pointing and whispering about you. A lot of people knew who you were, you were pretty popular in the theatre community. So, a lot of people took notice of your wardrobe change. You just tried to look down and make it to Evan’s locker. You felt like nothing could hurt you when you were around him.
When you saw him looking in his locker, you smiled to yourself. You knew he was looking at the polaroids of you and some trees that you gave him for his birthday. You had paid Connor $20 to take those for you. You weren’t sure Evan would like them at first. You assumed he would think you were conceited for giving him pictures of yourself to him, but he actually loved them. He put them up in his locker the next school day. He loved to look at them. When he was having a bad day, he’d be able to look at the pictures of his two favorite things and he’d feel better.
“Hey, Evan.”, you said to get his attention.
He turned to you but was visibly taken back by your lack of eyewear. “Hey, Y/N.”, he stumbled out.
You felt your confidence diminish for a second. His tone of voice made you assume that he thought you looked weird. “How did you sleep?”, you said wanting to take his mind off of your lack of glasses. Immediately after you said that you cringed.
“I slept fine…. Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?”, he asked with his head tilted ever so slightly.
You immediately assumed the worst, “Do I look weird? I should have just worn my glasses!”
Evan panicked, “What? No, that’s not what I meant! I meant like why aren’t you wearing them because you always wear them. But like not in a bad way. You look cute, you always look cute. You’re cute, just an all around cute person. Is that weird to say? I don’t think it is because we’re dating but you might. We’ve never talked about that before. Are you okay with me complimenting you all the time because you’re perfect in my eyes? I feel like I should tell you that all the time.”
“Evan, it’s fine. I just feel a little weird and not like myself. Plus, these contacts are the most annoying thing I’ve ever had to deal with. Do you really think I look okay?”, you explained.
He nodded, “Yeah, you look great, with or without your glasses.”
You blushed and smiled, “Thank you, Ev. Let’s go to class, I don’t want to be late for History.”
He closed his locker and held your hand as you walked to 1st period. As you assumed, you didn’t notice the people glancing at you in the hallway. You were just too focused on the lovely boy holding your hand.
But when lunch came around, you noticed them all over again. You were sitting alone at your usual table, waiting for Connor, Jared, and Evan to come distract you from your judgemental peers.
But then Jared had come and still wasn’t over the fact that you weren’t wearing glasses today. He sat down across from you with his signature smirk. “Hey, Y/N. Guess I can’t call you four eyes anymore, huh?”, he teased as he got out his sandwich.
“You have glasses too, you doofus.”, you retorted as you ate your own lunch.
He snickered and started to eat.
Evan and Connor came to sit down soon after. Connor seemed to be the only person who didn’t care that you weren’t wearing your glasses. It was probably because you and Connor had this understanding for the other. If he did care that you weren’t wearing glasses, he wouldn’t say anything about it. He knew you didn’t like unwanted attention drawn to you, so he kept his mouth shut.
Lunch was going great as usual. Evan was trying to be subtly romantic, Jared would tease him, Connor would tell Jared to fuck off, you would tell Connor to watch his language, then repeat. You didn’t think Connor and Jared got along too well, but they sucked it up to be friends with you and Evan.
“Hey, Y/N, why aren’t you wearing your glasses?”, some random person asked while walking past your table.
You awkwardly smiled at them, “For a play.”
They smiled back at you, “Well, ya look good.”
Evan gripped your hand at the compliment, he didn’t like people that weren’t close to you saying things like that. No matter who they were, it made him feel weird. Like that person wanted to be with you, or something.
The person left before you could say thank you.
“Watch out, Hansen. Y/N might leave you for the swooner over there.”, Jared said with a wink.
You rolled your eyes, “One, a ‘swooner’ isn’t a real thing. Two, I wouldn’t leave Evan. Three, if I were to, which I won’t, it wouldn’t be over a friendly comment.”
“A swooner can be a real thing if I want it to be,” Jared retorted like a child.
You chuckled and turned your attention to Evan. “Lunch is almost over. I’m gonna leave a little early to get my favorite seat in English. Love you,” you said getting up and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Okay, love you too,” he responded with a blush.
You went the rest of the day without feeling too bad about not having on your glasses. You were getting used to the feeling of the contacts, doesn’t mean you enjoyed them though. You missed your glasses. You caught yourself going to push them up, even though they weren’t there.
When the end of school bell rang, you rushed to the girl’s bathroom, took of your contacts, and put on your glasses. You sighed in content as you felt like yourself again. You didn’t have rehearsal that day, so you didn’t feel the need to wear them. You were just going to Evan’s house, so you didn’t feel a need to wear them for that also.
At about 5 o’clock, you drove to Evan’s house. When you got there, he greeted you with a soft kiss. You smiled and went to his bedroom to start of your math homework. There was a comfortable silence surrounding you two as you did your assignment. You didn’t notice, but he stopped focusing on his work and now was staring at you.
He took notice that you were wearing your glasses again. He decided to ask you a question, “Do you like your contacts?”
You looked up at him and shook your head, “Not one bit. I just feel like someone else. My glasses are a part of me and taking that part away feels different. But I’ll have to deal with it for the performance. I’ll do anything for my craft!”
He smiled, “I think you look great either way.”
“I know, you told me,” you said mimicking his smile.
“I mean it. You’re beautiful.”
You leaned and gave him a peck on the cheek, “So are you. Now let’s get back to work.”
so I figured I should stop being a slacker and actually write another fic, so I wanted to write something cute for Valentine’s Day, and I love Jinyoung so enjoy :))) also this is in first person because all other pov’s seem nasty in my writing rip
Pairing: Jinyoung x Reader (Y/N)
Words: 3.1k rip it’s a lot longer than I expected
Genre: Fluff/small semi-smut at the end
Prompt: Jinyoung tries to convince you, a skeptic, that Valentine’s day is worthwhile.
Valentine’s Day has always been just a day to me, no importance, no meaning. I mean, to me, it feels like an excuse for people to not fully express their love and just “save it up” for holidays like Valentine’s Day and their anniversary, it’s not for real lovers. I’ve never celebrated the holiday, and I don’t intend to in the future. That is, unless Jinyoung has anything to say about it.
The tavern is packed tonight, every table and barstool full, every bed upstairs reserved. Of course there’s no mystery to that. There had been a new round of quests posted; bounties, missing posters, pleas for help with monsters terrorizing villages and groups of thieves that needed taken care of, and even some things as simple as the blacksmith looking for an apprentice or help with farm work. Most have a reward posted, some don’t, but few of either ever stay up long. The mission postings are across the street, so The Cracked Anvil Tavern is the closest one for people to prepare at, and do they ever.
I pour another round for the folks at the bar: four dwarven lagers, two elven meads, three barley stouts, three Quadiran ciders, two ales, and another absinthe. The last for him tonight, I thought as I handed the glass of vivid green liquid to the tall man at the end of the bar, who had already had enough that his face was flushed the same bright red as his hair. He downed the drink, and almost on cue he fell out of his stool and decided that that was close enough to a bed. The crowd around the bar consisting of those who got here too late to find a seat adjusted around him and continued their various conversations.
Around the tables that take up the rest of the first floor of the tavern, various groups of adventurers eat their meals, drink their beverages, and discuss their plans. Two half orcs with draconic golden eyes, one in heavy armor with the mark of the dragon god Bahamut on the crest, one in scorched leather armor and a cloak with a suspicious amount of pockets on the inside, seem to be settling a sibling argument in their usual way: a drinking contest. A crowd has gathered around their table, and I pour twelve more shots of Dragon’s Piss for one of the waiters to take to them. When it arrives, the crowd starts cheering as the orc twins, who come here frequently enough for this to be somewhat routine, start downing shots.
“Ready to give up yet, Dorn?” the one in the cloak says between their first and second shot, breaking their sober facade with a burp that most likely could have caught fire had there been a match lit.
“Not till you admit that my plan is better, Mihratt.” Dorn is doing… less well. He’s trying his hardest to seem sober, but his eyes seeme to be having trouble focusing, and he’s swaying in his seat. No one could blame him; this is their third round of Dragon’s Piss. Still, he seems determined to get his way. He downs another shot, and cringes.
“Starting on the roof and working our way in is our best bet. We know there’s a roof access, we know it leads into the servant’s staircase, and we know that will take us wherever we need to go throughout that section of the castle.” Mihratt knocks back another shot. “What do you have against this plan?” An elf moves through the crowd, bumping against the members of the audience the two have gathered with their dispute and murmuring apologies as he makes his way through.
“Sentries. Sentry towers. They keep archers posted at all times. We should knock out a couple of guards, take their armor, and blend in until the time is right. We know that there’s a patrol on the hunting grounds scheduled for that night, there will only be two guards posted on that patrol, and we can sneak in and out easy as long as we avoid other guards.” Another shot, and a groan. “Plus, I’m scared of heights.”
“We have wings, Dorn.”
“Didn’t ask for those.”
Mihratt snorts out a laugh, any semblance of sobriety gone. When they sit back up, they say, “I guess that’s fair. If we do it right, we might not even have to fight anyone. Probably won’t, but that’s never stopped us before.” They look at the seven shots remaining on the table, unnecessary now that the dispute had been settled. “Are you gonna drink those?”
“Hells no. It’s a miracle I made it this long.”
Another table gets knocked over, sending bottles flying and shattering to the floor in an array of green and brown glass, and I look at the source of the scuffle to see the elf that made his way through the now-dissipating crowd being lifted a few feet off the ground by his throat by an angry-looking orc woman. “You want to give my pouch back?” she asks with a voice like rusted nails.
“What pouch?” the elf asks unconvincingly in a strained, high-pitched tone. The orc shakes him a little, and an impressive amount of pouches, wallets, and loose gold falls out. Tavern patrons check their pockets, and upon finding their possessions missing, become outraged.
The orc raises the fist that isn’t holding the elf, before looking at me and thinking better of it. She nods and carries him outside by his throat. I see the look of regret on his face as he gulps audibly. A large portion of the patrons follow, some to get their things back, some to watch them.
There’s a silent understanding in taverns like mine, you see. They’re neutral spaces, and that neutrality is enforced by the patrons. Troublemakers don’t stay long here.
Wordlessly, someone rights the table that was knocked over in the fight, levitates the broken glass into a rubbish bin, scoops up the coins the pickpocket left on the floor, and drops them into my tip jar. I smile and reach to pour them a drink, but they step briskly out the door, leaving only a few stragglers in the tavern.
I help the man who once sat at the bar up off the floor and lead him up the stairs to put him to bed, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand. Gods know the poor bastard would need it in the morning.
Walking downstairs, I take a moment to take in the tavern while it’s still quiet inside. The tables have glasses and bottles in various states of emptiness (or fullness, I suppose, depending on who you ask), but every plate is empty. The green wallpaper adorning the walls is peeling in some places, especially near the wooden support beams that line them, but they’re mostly well-maintained. Most of the furniture matches to some degree, in that it’s mostly made of the same birch wood, with the exceptions of a few armchairs and settees that have significantly more padding. Those are arranged around the grey stone fireplace, which contains the remnants of a fire that had been burning bright when I started my shift, but now dwindles to embers. I pile more firewood onto what remains and stoke the flame. Then, once it reaches a satisfying heat, I reach into a pocket on my apron and drop a sprig of cinnamon bark into the fire- an old tavern-keeper’s trick that I learned from my mother in the years before I inherited the Cracked Anvil. It overpowers the scent of alcohol and makes the place smell inviting.
I sink into my favorite seat by the fire, a puffy chair covered in furs and blankets. This the first time I’ve sat in nine hours. Posting days are always the busiest, and today was no exception.
Those that were outside trail back in, with the notable and unsurprising exception of the pickpocket, and upon seeing me in my chair, walk upstairs, some taking their drinks with them. A few pat me on the shoulder as they walk past. Most leave a generous amount of gold somewhere I can see it. I sink further into the chair, the furs soft against me, and rest my eyes for a moment.
This is part of a one-time only guest x character series. - Admin
Guest: *taps Kyoya on the shoulder* Excuse me, but I believe we have an appointment.
Kyoya: Ah, yes! Apologies, I didn’t see you come in. Please, this way to my favorite seat next to the window. *pulls out her chair*
Guest: Oh my! This view is spectacular!
Kyoya: Naturally. Personally I enjoy how the sunlight makes you glow.
Kyoya: Tea? Commoner’s coffee?
Guest: Tea, thank you. *looks over shoulder* I think the rest of the hosts quit listening. Now to discuss business…
Kyoya: *smirk* Well you are forward. Please, continue.
Guest: I think that if we get the correct backers, our business proposal will work! We both will amass massive amounts of profit and notoriety. This is practically a sure-thing! Oh Kyoya-senpai, I can’t wait to see the surprise on our business rivals’ faces!!!
#Repost @bammdds (@get_repost)
Continuation of my fascination with @teddysphotos feet and his #LoopPedal (please excuse the audio) #Bloodstream Part 2 #EdSheeran #Divide #DivideTour #DivideTourCleveland #Teddysphotos #Cleveland 09.09.17 #Sheerios #TheDance
Set while the two were still students, after Chariot got the shiny rod :O Totally inspired by fanart of the two :D
I really want to see more of the young Chariot and Croix dynamic. Particularly after their angst over the Shiny Rod choosing Chariot but before their falling out. Like this fragile relationship tinged with bitterness but the two still love each other, it’s just too good OTL
Croix followed the familiar voice, eyes barely picking out the small hands that waved in the distance for her attention. It was a moonless night; the shrubbery and bushes only made her after-hours trek into the woods that much harder.
Squinting, she batted a stubborn group of bushes with her wand and stepped into a small clearing, where her friend was resting on a fallen, moss-eaten log.