#^if anyone is wondering how my classes are going its this for my actual assignments

[cosmic-abysss]

my max is supposed to be 1600 T-T this is due friday we'll see how it goes...

[luvyeni]

henloo !! can i request for a heeseung fluff where he's a famous campus crush secretly dating f!reader — you can decide the plot for this one, i just honestly went for the trope because it's been on my mind lately <33

CAMPUS SECRETS; LEE HEESEUNG

pairings. campuscrush!heeseung x shy!reader

wc. 966

warnings. one semi suggestive joke (trust me i've written wayyyy worse)

i love this idea its so cute !

heeseung is loved by everyone, but he only has eyes for you...

—

'gorgeous just gorgeous' heeseung thought as he stared at the three girls sitting at the table across the table.

"bro, i know minjeong is hot and all, but you're staring at her like you're about to ask for her hand in marriage." jake slapped the boy. "just ask her out already." he rolled his eyes at his friend who was scarfing down a sandwhich while arguing with sunghoon over something so trivial no doubt.

but heeseung wasn't looking at minjeong, he was staring at you. the way your eyes crinkled up, and your nose scrunched when you laughed at something your friend said.

he could just burst into smiles when he that you were wearing his black sweatshirt that you stole when you came to visit his dorms, you had to sneakily make your way to his room so his roommates wouldn't see you.

he was so in love with you, and he just wanted to show you off to the world, but you were rather shy, and he didn't want his status of "campus crush" to overwhelm you, so you kept it a secret.

you were his cute secret.

"heeseung?" he snapped back into reality, looking at the girl in front of him, she looked at him with stars in her eyes, but he couldn't be intrested, you were all he thought about.

"i was wondering if you'd want to have dinner tonight? i know a really good place." she smiled "shyly", but heeseung knew she was wasn't actually shy, he knew a shy smile when he saw one— it was so cute when you'd hide your face from him when he'd tell you a flirty joke, the way you slap his arm.

"uh bro? she's talking to you, and you keep spacing out." jake nudged him, wondering what the hell was wrong with his friend. "oh uh..."

he was about to decline her offer, when he heard you voice getting closer to his table, you were walking past his table, talking with your friends. you gave him a look, a subtle look that no one would notice, he probably would've missed it, had he been caring about what the girl was saying in front of him had to say, you smiled at him.

he got up so fast, almost knocking the girl over, but she stepped back. "uh...daeyeon, i would love to, but im busy with homework tonight sorry, jake here is free though, right jake?" the australian was confused. "i guess."

"great, have a good time, i have to go talk to the professor about the assignment, i'll see you later." he took off before anyone could question him.

"the professors class is the other way though."

you stood at your locker, listening to your friends talk about something, you weren't paying attention, you were too busy day dreaming about heeseung. although you hated when girls would crowd around him, and bring him gifts and ask on dates, you loved how he only had eyes for you, and he proved it everytime.

"＿＿? are you listening girl." minjeong voice interrupted your inner dialogue to yourself about heeseung. "i said me and yunjin are gonna head to the mall to shop, and then we're gonna get ready at yunjin's and go clubbing, you coming?" you were about to decline, when you seen heeseung turn to corner, stopping when he noticed your friends.

"uh no, i have so much homework to do, so i'm gonna head home, have fun." they nodded, they knew you weren't a outside person, so they didn't even question it. "okay, well i'll see you later back at the dorm." you nodded sending them on their way.

"this wouldn't have to happen if you'd just let us tell people." he approached you once they were gone. "we can't even tell our friends." he pouted. "i know my friends can't keep their mouths shut, and jake hasn't shut up a day in life so." he laughed, pulling into a big hug. "i missed you." he kissed the top of your head.

"we haven't been able to spend anytime together." he pulled away, hovering over you.

"yeah, that's because you've been busy being the campuses boyfriend, what time is your date with daeyeon tonight." you teased, but he frowned, he hated when you said things like that. "babyyy! don't say that, you know i turned her down." you laughed, his doe eyes making feel a bit bad. "i'm sorry, i know you did." you planted a kiss right on his cheek.

"now im sad, how will you pay for it?"

"My dorm will be empty, minjeong will probably spend the night a yunjins, how about you come over later?" you said. "yeah? and do what?" his smirk made your face heat up, turning your head away.

"s...stop t..thinking like that, just to watch movies and eat." you said, ears hot. "that's what i meant baby, what else did you think?" he teased with a smile.

"stop playing- yo heeseung, we've been looking everywhere for you." jake and sunghoon walked over to you guys, him noticing you looking down already, ready to run away already.

"i was talking to ＿＿ about the exams, she was gonna help me tonight, right?" you shook your head, looking at the ground. "s...sure."

"well thanks to you i have a unwanted date to go on, so you're helping me get ready first." heeseung rolled his eyes. "fine." he turned to you. "tonight right?" he confirmed. "yeah." "lets go." his friends dragged him away, but he turned back to you smiling, mouthing a 'i love you'before turning back around as his friends began to fight with him in the middle.

you laughed, shaking your head, closing your locker so you could head home and get everything ready for your date.

©���LUVYENI

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

HLC REACT TO MC HAVING AN OUT OF CHARACTER OUTBURST

Requested by: @ma1egamer

MC had a bad week. The worst week. An awful horrible week. But they still smiled. No one could know what was broiling just beneath the surface. They were the cool popular kid at Hogwarts, they had a reputation. If they just kept up appearances until the end of the day, they could go out after classes and fight a few dark wizards. That would help them de-stress.

They were lost in thought when someone accidentally ran into them, knocking their bag off their arm and causing it to spill its contents all over the floor. One of their ink bottles smashed, staining what was a lengthy essay they had just completed the night before for astronomy.

MC lost their carefully collected shit. "WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING!? IF ITS NOT ONE THING, ITS ANOTHER!! EVERY! SINGLE! DAY! But, if we didn't have bad weeks, the good weeks would be so amazing." It was like someone flipped a switch. MC was entirely calm again while using their wand to clean up their stuff.

The hall was dead silent. The whole crowd of students and faculty watched MC pack themselves up and walk away smiling.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: "Welp, I feel sorry for any dark wizards or goblins that cross MC's path today." This included himself. He steered clear.

OMINIS GAUNT: "What happened? Why did they shout like that? Are they okay?" He needs context. He's worried.

ANNE SALLOW: She avoids eye contact with anyone in the crowd. She doesn't know what's going on, don't look at her.

IMELDA REYES: "What, in the actual fuck, was that?"

NATSAI ONAI: She marches after MC. They clearly aren't okay and she wants to know what's up.

GARRETH WEASLEY: MC's outburst made him drop a jar of pickled slugs. Now he was having a bad day too. The smell was awful.

LEANDER PREWETT: "They're cracking under the pressure. Sad."

AMIT THAKKAR: He has shrunk away from the noise. He doesn't deal with that kind of energy very well and removes himself from the situation.

EVERETT CLOPTON: "Merlin's beard, and here I thought Kogawa had a temper."

POPPY SWEETING: "Yeesh, I knew MC had fangs but I've never seen them take it out on a random student. I wonder what's bothering them."

ELEAZAR FIG: "Oh dear." He shuffles through the crowd and shepherds MC away. "What was that about? Are you alright? Please, don't lie to me."

MATILDA WEASLEY: She bristled at MC's volume. She could take house points for that, but instead ask MC to come to her office. She wants a word.

CHIYO KOGAWA: "Move along, everyone. You all have places to be." She shoos the crowd and stops MC from leaving. "Let's talk. My office."

AESOP SHARP: He gets it. As far as anyone is concerned, he saw nothing.

ABRAHAM RONEN: He's immediately by MC's side, helping them with their books. "Can you spare a moment to chat?" He wants them to be actually okay.

MIRABEL GARLICK: She walks quickly to catch up with MC and hands them a colorful bloom. "Here...it's Worry's Blight. It'll help you feel calm. You seem to need some more than me today."

MUDIWA ONAI: She invites MC up for tea. A special blend and good conversation is what they needed.

BAI HOWIN: Everyone has a bad day. There was no confrontation about the items dropped, so she let it go.

DINAH HECAT: "You shouldn't be shouting the halls, MC. However, instead of taking points, I have an assignment for you." She gave them a small price of paper with a location. "This is an ashwinder camp I heard wind of in the Three Broomsticks. It's a big one. Use this information as you may."

CUTHBERT BINNS: He just ghosted on out of there. He had a lecture to prep.

SATYAVATI SHAH: "No shouting in the halls. That's five points, MC." She didn't notice the vein fit to burst on MC's neck when they just smiled back at her.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: "Children. Always whining about how hard life is. They know nothing of the real troubles life can throw at you."

[k1utzymitry]

rises the moon ₊˚⊹☆

chpt. 2: sun digs it’s heels to taunt you

<prev———next>

series mlist

choso x roommate!reader

you’re finally getting to know your roommate both of your feelings intensify every second you spend around him

wc: 3.3k

cw: language

as the bright summer skies start to darken, the trees outside start to change from a lively green to a mix of reds, oranges and yellows, and when the breeze starts to cool down you realize the school year is closer than expected and summer is coming to an end. you weren’t super excited to start school again. you’d much rather sleep in all day and stay up all night, but everything has to come to an end. it’s back to the normal routine that had you stressing and ripping your hair out. hopefully, the second year of college won’t be as tourtoreous as the first. Hopefully, your professors don’t overload your schedule with assignments, essays, and reports. you genuinely don’t know if you would be able to take it anymore if this year is just as bad as the last. but at least you aren’t alone this year. this year you have a roommate to keep you sane. though the two of you had just met you feel this sort of connection between you two. you feel like you’ve known him your entire life. you feel like if you spilled all your deepest secrets to him he would take it to his grave and never ever tell a soul. you felt this sort of instant comfort with him, maybe it’s because of his nervousness? maybe it’s because he looks like he couldn’t even lay a finger on a fly? maybe it’s because he’s insanely attra-

oh- he’s so attractive. maybe that’s why thoughts of him plague your mind and take over your brain. you’ve only known him a week and he’s taken over every thought in your brain. he’s so intoxicating. maybe it was his face, or maybe it was the way he was so soft spoken? maybe it was the way he looked so focused while he worked and played his guitar? maybe it was all of those things, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. you felt this sort of foreign connection with him that you couldn’t find anywhere else. every time you think about him you find it incredibly hard to stop. to be honest you think it’s quite embarrassing that you could fall in love with someone you hardly know. you don’t even know how old he is for heaven's sake! yes it’s shameful but you just can’t help it. he’s just sooo cuteee!!

you didn’t notice but you’ve been fantasizing and squealing for the past 45 minutes. if anyone were to pass by your room they would think you’re getting kidnapped or something. but you just can’t stop thinking about him. he’s just soooo dreamy!! okay for real stop now. you think that you should lock in, and actually start thinking about school. now that you finished setting up your room it’s time to start setting up your schedule. summers coming to its end and the fall semester is in less than a week! as your thinking about your semester classes you snap to your senses when you hear a knock at your bedroom door. you arise from your bed to crack open the door and see choso. once you see him you realize you have to act like you weren’t just creating fantasies about him. which is hard considering the fact he’s right in front of you.

“hey choso what’s up?” you're surprised you got your words out without completely stumbling over every single word. you give him a smile as you lean against the door frame.

“i was uh wondering if you wanted anything for dinner, since neither of us h-have gone grocery shopping yet.” as he messes with the hem of his hoodie. “i was about to go pick some up if, you wanted anything..” he looks away from you during that last portion and his words fade out.

“oh! yeah lemme put my shoes on and i’ll be right out!” you said then rushed to grab said things. he didn’t expect you to want to come with him but he won’t deny it. if anything, he's excited. since the moment he saw you he knew he was in for a roller coaster.

“okay, ready when you are!” he practically felt like he was melting when you gave him the kindest smile. he couldn’t even believe that you even said yes, he wasn’t expecting you to want to come with him in the first place.

“we can go now” you follow him out the room setting the door behind you. Both of you leave small dorm room and make your way to the elevator. The elevator was silent, but you could feel him staring at you through the mirror conviently placed in the elevator, though you decide to say nothing about it. The elevator came to a slow stop as you reached the ground floor.

“ so what are we getting cho?” You mention as you're both walking to the parking lot. The nickname again makes him flush a bit, it’s not noticeable to the fact it’s dark outside.

“anything you want, i’m not too picky. plus i picked last time.” you then reached choso car. it looks pretty new, sleek, black, probably real expensive, it definitely suits him. he then pulls out his keys and unlock the doors. you step into the passenger side and get settled into his car. the interior is also nice, spacious, black leather seats, a touch screen radio, you really wonder how he could afford such a nice car.

“anything i want? hmm.” you put your mind to work for what you wanted but you genuinely couldn’t think of anything.

“well not anything. some places are probably closed by now because of how late it is. and i’m not made out of money.” but i'd buy you the whole world if i could is what he wanted to say. he doesn’t understand why. he’s never even thought of saying those kinds of things to anyone else so he doesn’t know why all of a sudden he would to you. he’s only known you for about a week and his mind is stuck on thoughts of you.

‘this is going to be a torturous year if i don’t get over this’ he thinks to himself as he spaces out. but is snapped out of it when he hears your voice.

“uhmm i think that one italian place down sunshine street is open 24 hours, it’s a bit far from the university though. if you want to check it out.” your face was hardly illuminated due to the lack of lights but he could tell you were giving him that same sweet smile.

“yeah we can go, i’ll just need to stop for gas first.” he says as he starts pulling out of the parking lot. “you can play music if you want. i’m not picky about what kind.” he glances over at you to see you giggling at him. this made him turn entirely red and put his focus back on the road.

“what’s funny” by his expression you could tell he was confused and embarrassed.

“why are you acting so serious and nonchalant? are you scared to look at me or something? loosen up a bit.” and with that his shoulders dropped and his breathing slowed down you could tell he was tense.

“no, and uh sorry.” his face was still red you could tell by the street lights.

“you don’t have to apologize. i’m not gonna be mad or anything. do you think i’m scary?” he pulled the car into a gas pump by the nearest gas station before putting the car in park.

“no, i just think you’re really pretty.” and with that he was out of the car headed to the inside convenience store leaving you with that statement plaguing your thoughts.

wait what did he say? did he say that i’m pretty? does he actually think i’m pretty? those thoughts were running through your head like a wildfire. you glance through the window again to see choso already walking back to the car. you were frozen you didn’t even know what you were going to say to that. as your stare at him you do think he is cute, and almost exactly your type. he stands on the side of the car by the gas pump and quietly waits as the car fills up with fuel. you never thought someone’s side profile could look so hot but it felt like your heart was stopping and restarting the longer you looked at him. he then finished and got back into the car. it was silent. not another word was exchanged between the two of you. not that it was necessarily awkward, but you still couldn’t wrap your mind around the statement he made. it wasn't like it was anything out of the ordinary or anything you’ve been called pretty a bunch of times but it felt different when it came from him. you couldn’t quite put your finger on why it was only him that made you feel this way. not that you didn’t believe in love at first sight, but there’s no way it could happen this fast and over a simple comment. right?

the drive to the shop took a bit longer than expected, the silence eventually getting to you making you turn up the radio slightly. throughout the rest of the drive you’re mostly just playing with your hair while you look out the window. when he pulls into the drive through at the shop he turns to you before asking do you already know what you want it felt nice to be reassured that he would still talk to you. from the silence he displayed not long ago you were afraid he went non verbal and would never speak again. but it was also bad that you didn’t even think of it. you’ve only been to this place once and you didn’t even think to look up the menu online. you turn to face him before you shake your head. he then pointed at the brightly lit menu by him. you read the menu and tell the drive through worker what you want and so does choso and sooner or later you’re at the first window. you reach into your pocket and pull out your wallet and go for your card. he puts his hand over yours stopping your movements before saying..

“it’s okay i’ll pay.” you look at him sorta shocked. “it’s not that much i’ll pay for myself. plus you paid for both of us last time we got food.” he gave you a dirty glare which you really hoped he didn’t mean but that quickly made you put your wallet up. He then pulled out his own and gave his card to the worker once they went over the order. He then got the receipt and pulled up to the next window. He put the car in park and waited silently. It wasn't as awkward as earlier but it definitely wasn't ideal to be sitting in silence with a guy that's so cute. Some girls and maybe even some guys would be flocking to be you in this situation, you can't say this experience is incredibly terrible though. You are getting free food out of this and it is much better than being cooped up in your small dorm room stressing about the school year that's about to start in a couple of days. The silence is sickeningly loud, and the tension in such a small vehicle was thick enough to cut through. You wanted to say something desperately but you couldn't think of the right words to say. You didn't want him to think of you in some kind of way. It's not like you wanted to stay silent, you just didn't want to say the wrong thing.

Him on the other hand.. he was freaking out mentally. He's glad he didn't start physically shaking, he probably would have if it was anybody else but he doesn't want to seem like some kind of wimp in front of you. Your first impressions with you were already bad enough when he couldn't say a single sentence without stuttering up a storm, and the past week the both of you have been in the dorm together the two of you have hardly said a word to one another. When he came to your room and asked if you wanted food it took him 3 days to muster up the confidence. He thinks he should be ashamed because how does it even take that long?? It's not like he was expecting to share a dorm with a girl, a pretty girl at that. He thought it was gonna be separated by boys and girls, like most places are but he cant say hes mad about the decision to put the two of you in a dorm together. And it's not like you two are sharing a room anyways, you're both on two completely opposite ends of the dorm itself. He realizes he's been spacing out when he feels something tap his right shoulder and he hears his name repeatedly being called by such a sweet voice.

“Choso.. Hey choooo. chosoo. choooooooo…” you kept repeating his name hoping to grab his attention. When you realized simply just saying his name wasn't going to grasp his attention you turned to repeatedly tapping him and calling his name. Which did eventually work when he looked like he saw a ghost or something by the way he practically jumped out of his skin. He averted his eyes to you from the dashboard creating intense eye contact between you and him. his attention was fully on you now. his eyes held a power you couldn’t describe. it was almost hypnotizing the way he was looking at you like he was longing for you. You can't lie, he was pretty handsome and just your type. You had completely forgotten what you were going to say as the two of you just stared at each other. there was a comfortable yet intense silence. Which just had to be ruined by a worker knocking on the glass window. Choso then rolled down the window as fast as it could go, which was still relatively slow.

“Sorry to interrupt you little love birds, but I have your order.�� The elderly woman handed choso a bag with two foam plates in it. And before you or choso could correct the woman she was scurrying off back to work. Choso hands you the bag before putting the car in drive and hurrying out of the store's parking lot. The car ride was silent along with faint rock music playing in the background, the car was at a steady pace as he drove fast down the highway. It was until you realized you were going the direct opposite way of the dorms. It's not that you didn't trust him, more like just confused.

“Choso, where are we going?” you glance at him and ask quietly.

“Do you trust me?” The car slows down some as he comes to a turn. You could say no and he would probably drive you back to the dorm, or you could continue with this and let him take you to god knows where. To say you were curious was an understatement. But to think rationally why would he even take you, you're quite literally roommates. He would obviously be the number one suspect if you went missing. You don't think he's that dumb. Right? Before you can even come up with a decision, curiosity took over you and blurted out ‘yes’. The car then started to step up back to its normal fast and steady pace.

“I promise i wont hurt you.. you seemed hesitant is all.” he glaces at you again before putting his attention back on the road. “that’s something a kidnapper would say..”

“do i look like a kidnapper sweetheart?”

that nickname was all it took for the both of you to practically switch places.. you turned into the timid one and he seemed as confident as ever.

“i mean..” you dragged out the end as he sighed. “well on the bright side you’re not an ugly kidnapper. i would hate to be kidnapped especially by someone who wasn’t my type.” …why did you just say that..? the last part just slipped out, you had meant to say ‘i would hate to be kidnapped by someone who was ugly” but i guess even your own body isn’t on your side tonight.

“i’m your type?” his eyes don’t leave the road, and yours don’t leave the dashboard. you absolutely cannot look at him right now not after your slip up.

“well.. there’s a lot of guys that look like you.. like the emo, punkish,and grungy look. a lot of girls, or guys if you’re into that; like that kind of stuff nowadays.” the quick excuse doesn’t cover up what you said but it’s the first thing that came to mind.

“uh huh…” you can tell he doesn’t believe you completely so you just stay quiet and enjoy the rest of the ride to this mysterious location.

around 15 minutes later, you arrive. the car comes to a stop and his seatbelt comes undone, so you undo yours as well. he then pushes his seat back as far as possible, and you mirror his actions. he reached into the backseat and pulled the two foam plates and handed you one with some plastic utensils and set one on his lap. you then finally look up out the front window and see a thousand stars glimmering and beaming in the sky. it was absolutely beautiful.

“choso… where are we..?”

“we’re only a city over don’t worry. but this is where i go when i go late night driving. it’s isolated.. no one comes around here. real calm over here.” faint music plays in the background as choso starts to eat his food. you also begin to eat. you notice choso keeps looking up at you, but you keep it to yourself. it was until he spoke.

“can i get a bite of your food.. it looks really good.” you giggle at him before picking up a good sized piece and bringing it towards his mouth. he chuckles a bit before opening his mouth and taking a bite out of the food and chewing. his eye light up at the taste. it’s different from his usual flavor palette.

“can i get a bite of yours?” you ask staring at his plate. he picks up his fork and brings it towards your mouth. you take the bite and begin to chew. it’s much different from what you ordered. it’s actually really spicy. you reach over to a bottle of water that mysterious sat in chosos car.

“hold on you’ve gotten something right..” chosos hand grabs your face as you turn to face him once more. he wipes the corner of your lips removing a previous crumbs. yet his hand doesn’t leave, nor do his eyes from yours. he stares deeply into your pupils as you look into his dark ones. you don’t realize it but during this intense staring you both started to lean in before both of your lips collided in a passionate kiss. it wasn’t quick. he held you there as the kids grew longer. soon you melted into it and let yourself go. but even quicker than that you both were out of breath. you both pull back and lock eyes once more, and you’re both rendered completely speechless

-

a/n

please don’t ask me why it took over 2 months.. i don’t wanna talk about it. BUT UM CHAPTER 3 WILL BE OUT SOON I SWEAR.. okay i don’t swear but it is a wip rn meaning it wont be TOO much longer but yk me ;) (if there are any mistakes don’t be afraid to point them out) -dmitry

[friendlyorange]

The weirdest thing about going to college for teaching in the united states is the giant CANYON of disconnect between what we're taught and what we actually do in a classroom.

like we're taught how to diversify methods of instruction in order to most equitably reach the diverse populations of our classrooms and inspire them to do their best writing/reading/speaking (im an English teaching major) but then in reality the students in your classroom are insanely below the level they need to be at in order to engage with age-appropriate lessons for them

we're taught how to take common core standards and transform them into meaningful and deep lessons but we're only given 45-90 mins of planning per day (if we're lucky) and the rest needs to be done outside of school or after hours if you can't do it quickly enough, and teachers are always expected to do research outside of the classroom, as well as collaboration, tweaking of lesson plans, etc.

we're told that students crave learning and they crave fun projects and they crave kinesthetic exercises, but then when I try those things in the classroom everyone complains and halfasses their participation, and im lucky if half of them actually pass something in, whether its an assignment, a test, a project, or an assessment.

we're told that we need to have open communication not only between teachers but between teachers and admin and parents, but then im lucky if one of the ten parents I email about their kid failing emails me back, and im luckier if admin takes a behaviorally disturbed student out of my class for insulting me or other students.

like... i guess my point is that teaching education is so idyllic and utopian, and actual classrooms are a goddamn nightmare of behavioral issues, lack of time/resources, exhausting interactions with students who don't want to be there or participate, and insane expectations from students, parents, and admin alike.

Like... no wonder the teaching field is hemorrhaging teachers right now. How can ANYONE work under the insane conditions we're forced to try and teach in. I'm so tired and I'm not even out of school yet. It's actually psychotic.

[ohdudedhesflirting]

I love you so I let you go, final part.

Part 1. Part 2.

Pairing: Seok matthew x f!reader

Warnings: Therapy, YN is going through a depression (not diagnosticed), vomitting, mention of bullying, anorexia

Tag : @seok02, I hope you will like it Nina, this is the end <3

Genre: University au, Matthew fell first, friends to sweethearts, angst, break-up.

Synopsis: Y/n and Matthew were in a relationship. Y/N get some needed help, before finally meeting Matthew again.

Notes : This is the final part, I hope you will like it <3 English is my second language. Please if anyone is huring you, if you are knowind difficulties, please tell someone, do not stay alone.

Words : 2667

... Under the cut...

A smile barging on your lips, you where looking outside the windows seeing your boyfriend, Seok Matthew, happily passing by with some of his friends.

You still had difficulties to believe that Matthew had chosen you. On your side Matthew had alwyas been the evident choice, he was the perfect man and the most kindest person to ever exist to you.

Excitedly you were working over an assignement which had been assigned to you in one of your classes. You just wanted the time to go by faster and meet with your boyfriend. You had a date later that day at his place and you could not wait one minute even more.

A loud scrape on the floor got you out of your thoughts. Looking at what made the sound you were met with one of the girl from your class. Miranda. She was not the meanest but not the kindest either. Just the type you had to say hello to when passing by in the hall, but not the type one would willingly have a drink with.

« How are you doing Y/N ? »

Startled by her question you replied « good thank you, I trust you are as well »

« Actually I am not »

Questionning her with your eyes you wondered what the sudden urge of honesty came for. You were not especially close and she had lots of friends why would she suddenly rant to you ?

« I dont understand how a girl like you bagged a guy like Matthew.. I really dont get it. »

Your smile that already had gotten smaller got even more smaller, just completely dissapearing from your face. You though all those insults and remarks had gotten away, it had been a while since anyone said something clearly to your face and you did not miss it.

You knew what those remarks were doing to you. You were just spiralling into your own insecurity and sadness every time.

« Look at you. Ugly litlle girl, just fat and no muscles. Nothing particular about you, just a boring plain gril »

Saying so she took your brown hair between her long fingers. With your eyes you followed her do so. You knew that this was only going to be the beginning and wanting to preserve yourself you started to pack your stuff to leave. You did not need to hear any more words, you had heard enough.

"Wake up Y/N, Matthew is just doing charity work you know ? One day he is gonna ditch you and then what ? You are nothing"

Droping your pencil case on the floor, you slowly bend down to take it back before she pushed it over with her shoe and left. Slowly going up again, you left a sigh leave your lips. When was this going to stop ?

--

Hearing your alarm you kept on hitting the button to turn it off.

You just had passed the worst week of your life. The absoulte worst.

After your breakup with Matthew you still pushed yourself to go to class and follow everything. As a scholarship student you couldn’t be absent to class but the effort it was asking you was terrible.

You felt as if every eye was on you, and it was as if they knew about you and Matthew.. The insults and whispered remarks had not died down. Not wanting to eat alone at the cafeteria you had just skipped lunch the whole week week. Its not as if your stomach could handle any food, any time you tried to eat something you just puked it out. The only thing you could tolearate was some yogurt.

Finally it was the weekend and you would be able to be alone without forcing yourself to put on a facade. Trying to be brave.

The light coming for your window had been too much and you just closed everything down, leaving in the dark since a week and the though of not seeing the sun was the greatest of all.

Alone in your bed, curdled up in one of Matthew’s sweatshirt you were wondering if you had comitted a mistake.

Matthew was the greatest thing to have ever happened in your life. He was realiable. Kind. You loved the way his whole face lighted up every time he was smiling, the way he reached stuff for you on high shelves. Enguffling yourself even more in his sweatshirt you started to feel the tears coming in once again.

You missed Matthew terribly but it was the best for him. You kept repeating this to yourself over and over again. Every time he was sending you a message, you did not even dare to open it. Every time he called you, you just turned your face over to not see his contact picture.

You had to do it. All those people were right, you were stopping Matthew from growing, he derserved to be happy and free.

Yes it was the best choice.

And as you kept repeating over and over the sentence in your head your tears just kept on falling down as waterfalls.

A loud knock on your door, stopped you in your cries. Eventually you though that the person would leave but a second knock was heard on your door, before a third. You refused to move, your body could not move anyway.

That person will just leave, thats what you kept thinking.

Not until the key was put inside the lock and unlocking it, letting a person come into your place. You had not even noticed just sobbing on your bed, hidden fully under your covers.

Footstep were resonating in your appartement, before a hand finally placed itself on the doorknob of your bedroom. An impressive silhouette letting himself in and putting down the food he brought on the side.

The hand solwly pulled up a part of the cover, unveiling you, curdled up crying wearing one of Matthew’s sweatshirt, holding another in your hand.

« Seriously YN what the hell »

Lifting up your gaze you where left with Han Bin’s gaze. The older man was just looking at you in disbelief. Or at least the shadow of you,

« Hanbin ? What are you.. ?»

« You and Matthew are exactly in the same state.. Scoot over »  

Slowling pushing yourself on the side, you left a place for your friend. The man just looked at you in disbelief, with your puffy eyes and red nose. But also at your bedroom covered in tissues.

« This place is gross let me tell you »

Looking at him, you didnt understood what he was doing there and how exactly had he gotten the keys

« Before you ask, no I did not break your door, Matthew gave me the keys »  

« Is Matthew alright ? « 

« He is just like you so a mess basically »

Sighing you could feel yourself feeling even more down, the whole basis of this breakup was to free him so he could be happy away from you.

« YN listen, I know about what people are saying, I heard.. I don’t think Matthew knows, are what they are saying the reason you broke up with Matt ? »

Slowling confirming with your head,Han Bin sighed and pulled his hands up to his face.

« Why are you like this ? They are just jealous, seriously, what you and Matthew have is so important and you are just letting yourself have your relationship ruined by them ? »

« They are right Han Bin, Matthew is missing out on college life because of me, he deserves someone that pull him toward the stars not push him down lower than earth »

« You are not. The bond you have is unique and wholesome. People will always talk, behind your back or in front of you, do not let your relationship be ruined by jealous people YN. »

- -

"Why do what they are saying are so important to you ?"

"Well if it had been only one people I would not have cared that much, but so many people think the same and Matthew.. Well"

Slowly your therapist -that you were now seeing since two months-  encouraged you to talk

"Matthew is great. He is everything you could wish in a person and the though of making him unhappy even for one second destroys me, he deserves to be happy and loved and if by being with me he cannot be as happy as he could be, than I should let him be free"

"Correct me if I am wrong, you never told him about what those people told you right ? And you never asked him if he was unhappy with you ? Don’t you think that here it is your own insecurities that you projected into your relationship with Matthew ?"

Speechless you looked over at your therapist, was it what it was ? Did you truly let your own insecurities eat you up whole, you and your relationship ?

Slowly going back from your therapy session to your place, your mind was wandering off everywhere.

The therapy had not been your idea, but Han Bin and Jiwoong that litteraly kidnapped you one day after your classes to introduce you to this therapist. She was great really but every time you left a consultation with her you felt like your whole life was upside down.

Not really looking where you were walking you heard a voice from a distance. It was Matthew.

You had not saw him since over three months, when you broke up with him at his appartment. He never stopped sending you messages, yes they were less frequent but always send some.

In awe you looked at him. He had gotten more muscular, he had let his hair grown and he could now put it behind his ears. You remembered you always told him that it would suit him well and that you would love to see him one day with long hair. And you were right, he truly was looking good.

Looking at him from a distance, you thought about how much he seemed to have changed. His shirt was letting his biceps show, and you could see he got a new tatto,  he seemed to be doing well. His skin was shinig and he seemed to be getting enough sleep. You were relieved to see him this way, happy, healthy. You were suffering but at least seeing him happy was making up for it.

Finally you saw he was accompagnied, you recognized one of the two people walking by his side. The first one was a man named Keita, he was a bit shorter than you and obviously Matthew, you had talked to him a few times and he was really funny and sweet to talk to. A smile escaped your lips happy to see Matthew kept such a good friendship.

And then you saw her, Miranda, laughing with Matthew. Putting her hand on his biceps, curling up her hair. A feeling of knife went into your stomach and suddenly you once again wanted to puke. Running to the closet alley you vomitted everything you had ate. It had been a little while since it did not happen and you did not miss it at all.

A tissue approached your lips and you slowly took it from the hand of the person that was giving it to you.

Meeting with big brown eyes, you saw Matthew.

The man was scrutinzing you with his eyes. You had lost weight, gotten an haircut, you had pack under youe eyes, you looked globally exhausted.

"Are you alright ?"

You slowly confrmed it with your head not able to let any sound escape your lips. You could not belive he was in front of you, hearing his voice again, seeing his sparkling eyes once again, everything felt too good to be real.

Seeing Miranda and Keita slowly approaching you excused yourself before Matthew even had a chance to understand what was happening.

Seeing you run and leave him once agin, he had not even gotten the time to reach for your hand.

« She did not change uh »

Looking over his shoulder, Matthew questionned Miranda with his eyes. He was not especially fond of the girl, he always had found her too nice, too honey like with him and his friends. She was always as the place as he was. Just like today, he was just supposed to meet Keita for a cofee but she somehow was there at the café.

"YN, I can't believe you dated her, I remember how all of us would tell her how shocking it was"

" What ?"

Miranda laughed before pulming her hair behind her ear, Keita on the side was silent. All of Matthew's friend had promised to not say a word about what you had went through, you had asked Han Bin to ask them, and also messaged some of them. Matthew shouldnt and could never know what happened.

"She never told you ? We were always jokingly, of course, telling her how ridiculous itw as you two were together". She paused for a moment before continuing "Well thats what everyone said anyways"

Matthew stepped back for a moment, his mind wandering accross his memories, all the whispers he could sometimes hears, all the time you looked sad, scared in the corridors, all the time you vomitted, all the time you said you were feeling uncomofrtable. Why you never told him you loved him verbally. Everything matched up.

Finally Matthew undertsood why you had left him.

"You bullied her"

Laughing Miranda replied "We played, and see if she didnt told you anything it that it didnt mean anything"

Completely disguted Matthew left her there, followed by Keita, he asked his friend about it and he finally learned the truth. What you had went trough, how you made them promise to not say anything, you had been suffering alone since months and he knew nothing.

Going to your place, Matthew kept banging on your door, for months he had given you space, missing you in silence, but he could not stand it anymore, now that he knew the truth, he wanted to feel you in his arms. The sooner, the better.

Slowly you opened your door for Matthew, seeing your tiny figure, Matthew englobbled you in his arms

« Why didnt you say anyhting ? »

« What ? »

« I just learned, everything or almost everyhtng, why havent you said anything ? »

« I just.. It felt true to me. And well I was scared that if I told you you would leave me, I was gredy and I wanted to keep you  by my side »

Keeping you even closer to his arms, Mattthew brused your hair

« I love you and I won’t let you go, never. Those people they are wrong »

« They were not completely, if I had been secure it would not have happened, it happened because I let them destroy me »

Solwly pulling you aay Matthew took your cheeks between his hands.

« Listen to me, I love you and I deserve you, you deserve me. You are not a burden to me. You never were. Come back to me. »

Slowly breathing in and out, you explained to Matthew that you could not yet, you needed help, you needed to be worth of him, but not away from him this time. You would go back together slowly, just getting back the time you had lost all while seeing your therapist.

Matthew englobbed you in a tight hug and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. He understood, of course he did, but he could not be away from you anymore. You would be getting help and talk about it, but he would be by your side.

Loving each other and always staying at each other side.

[delafiseaseses]

I thought about the NCR Sharecropper Farms and Concluded they should not Exist.

Strong opening line, 'ey? How's ol' Delafiseaseses gonna justify that?

Quite easily, actually. Y'see some people misunderstand the NCR Sharecropper Farms, they think it provides food to the Mojave. Not true. It provides food to the NCR, clues in the name, really. Its a Sharecrop, the NCR gets some of the crop and the sharecroppers get the rest of their crop as payment, the portion the NCR takes goes to NCR Military bases. As Romanowski says 'A lot of the crops grown here support the various NCR camps in the region - McCarran, Golf, and Forlorn Hope, to name a few. We can't have wastelanders popping in here for a free meal, so my squad and I are assigned to keep things from going to hell.' and when Romanowski says 'Wastelanders' he means 'people from the Mojave Wasteland' of course.

Do the sharecroppers sell their crops to Mojave citizens? Possibly, but remember all the sharecroppers are NCR citizens brought over by the 'Thaler Act', nobody from the Mojave directly benefits from this arrangement.

You may think 'Well, not like anyone in the Mojave before was using the land.' possibly wrong. While he's not from the Mojave (and is an unrepentant Enclave fascist, but that's irrelevant) Orion Moreno has this to say 'I came out here to get away from them - didn't work out so well. Next thing I know, I'm squatting in "their" land. Never mind that I'd already been living here for years.', and when he says 'years' he could mean up to over 3 decades. So we've got to wonder... was the land unoccupied? Moreno is a stubborn old Enclave soldier, he wouldn't scare easy, he gets harassed by the NCR, as he says when you first meet him 'Bah. Looks like I forgot to lock the doors again. If you're with the NCR, get out. This place is mine, and I'm not leaving.' or, if you am in NCR faction armour 'Look, trooper, I was living in this house long before your farms got set up. Don't even think about evicting me.' most people would be forced off by these tactics. So it is entirely possible the NCR has displaced Mojave residents to set up their precious farm.

Both quests involving the Sharecropper Farm also include a backdrop of NCR vs Mojave Locals. The most obvious is, of course, The White Wash. The Westside Co-Op, an actual local community farming effort (which does have some New Californians, but they're unaffiliated with the NCR), is only surviving because of the syphoning of water from the Sharecroppers by Tom Anderson. The water from the local water system that the NCR took over, I might add. Why do they get to claim ownership of Lake Mead's water and the Vegas water system?

And the second, Hard Luck Blues is more indirect. The NCR isn't at fault at all for this, the Vault 34 Civil War damaged their reactor and that was entirely on them. But the final choice between saving the Vault 34 Survivors or dealing with the radiation leak caused by the Vault 34 Civil War killing the survivors. So it is literally saving an NCR Asset or saving people who for over 200 years have lived in the Mojave.

Now, I'm not saying the Sharecroppers themselves deserve to suffer lower than needed water rations or radiation in their soil. They didn't set this up, they're just working class NCR citizens trying to survive, but, the thing is, the Sharecroppers can just... leave. And they do if these quests are resolved in ways that hurt the Farms.

After the White Wash siding with Anderson/Westside the affected sharecropper Trent Bascom says he's quitting because 'I wouldn't be able to meet the quota, and the NCR would kick me out of my job, anyway. Nah, it's better I get out on my own terms.' and he's even got a plan for his future 'I hear the Brahmin ranchers out in Redding are looking for some hard workers, so I might try there first. I hate working with Brahmin, though.' so, yeah, that sucks for him, but he's got a future. He may not like that future, but its more of a future than the Westsiders have if they lose their Co-Op.

And after Hard Luck Blues you can find some Sharecroppers out front of the Big Horn Saloon in Boulder City. The named member of this group is a woman named Anne, she has this to say 'We're heading back home. I hope our troops do the same. This land can't be saved. Trying to grow crops in this heat, with so little water, is bad enough, but now we've got radiation seeping into the farmlands east of New Vegas. We're done. Let the people of these hell-hole deal with their problems, I say.' and, y'know, I agree. Maybe the people of the Mojave should deal with their problems and not have a military force from somewhere else claiming their land and water? Especially since the area is still disputed at this time. They're literally fighting a bloody war which they have a 3/4 chance of losing during all of this.

To put this all in a shorter way: The NCR Sharecropper Farm's existence is an example of NCR colonialism.

Like, it's textbook fucking colonialism. They forcefully took over part of a land that's not theirs, brought in their own people to 'settle' the land and violently keep the locals out of it all, who suffer because of it. I've said before that the NCR playacts the USA and they certainly playact it accurately.

So, unless you're doing an NCR playthrough, I'd say its probably best to side against the Sharecropper Farm in every instance because the NCR Sharecropper Farms should not exist. It sucks for the Sharecroppers, but they'd be out of the job when the NCR withdraws anyway. Probably best for everyone if they get out before the NCR Military does.

[darlincollins]

don't go breaking my heart

david/darlin fake dating high school au! inspired by my rewatch of he's all that (a classic)~

content warnings for vague allusion to unsafe home environment!

tag list: @dollscircus @taelonsamada @darlin-collins @romeo-the-homeo @friendlyfaded @angel-shaw

"We need to talk."

David closes his locker to face the newest pack member, impressively scruffy with their choppy, scissored haircut and oversized jacket made up of more stitching than fabric. They look serious and a little uncomfortable; not unusual for them, and of course, the fact they've actually approached him to begin with probably means the world is ending, but still. It doesn't bode well. "About?"

Their eyes flicker around the hallway, suspiciously eyeing the students passing by on their way to classes. "Not here. Lunch. Meet me in the library." They spare a glance at David’s arm, on which Asher had spent most of homeroom doodling cats and skateboards. "Leave the peanut gallery." Before David can object or demand more information, they slink away, vanishing into the crowd. Fuck's sake.

David’s next class seems to crawl by; his mind keeps drifting from their assigned worksheet to whatever his aloof packmate could possibly want to discuss with him. Part of him doesn't even want to go- the fact that they've willingly initiated a conversation with him can't mean anything good. But every time he considers skipping out on the meeting, he hears his dad's voice in the back of his head, reminding him that pack means family, and family means showing up. Besides, the difficulty their new member has had in adjusting to the pack has been a matter of extreme concern to its alpha. He would definitely want David to reciprocate if they are in fact reaching out. Still, he admits he does drag his feet a little bit in putting his books back in his locker, eating his lunch, making excuses to Ash and Milo about why he's leaving the cafeteria early, and heading to the library.

The library is never really packed, but at lunchtime it's completely deserted; even the librarian seems to have abandoned the premises, leaving the place half-lit and hazy with dust. David searches the aisles until he finds his packmate sitting with their back to a bookcase, absorbed in a battered copy of The Monkey Wrench Gang with an untouched lunch tray sitting in front of them. The slightest pang goes through him as he wonders if they eat lunch here every day, but he shoves it down- it's not like they couldn't sit with the pack if they wanted.They jump a little when he clears his throat, but quickly brush off the startle and set the book aside, gesturing for him to sit down.

A long moment passes while they stare at him, completely inscrutable. It's not often that they make eye contact with him or anyone, and David feels a little like a bug pinned to a board under the pressure of their gaze. He resists the urge to squirm or look away first, and finally they speak.

"I need you to go out with me."

David chokes on air. "What the fuck?"

"How flattering."

His mind seems to be lagging; he's heard the sounds that came out of their mouth but surely has not correctly interpreted them into words, possibly is hallucinating, possibly is dreaming. "Wh- I don't understand. Since when- why?"

"Wow, I hope the ends of these sentences are coherent."

He takes a deep breath. Maybe this is a prank. Maybe this is real. Either way, it absolutely is not happening. But how to do this without driving them further away from the pack? He's not cut out for this kind of thing, with the need for tact and gentleness and soothinghurt feelings. Why couldn't this be happening to Asher? Distantly, David recognizes that this is still going on, right now, in the present, and they're staring at him again, waiting for him to speak. Nothing to do but go for it, right? "Look, I think you're great, but-"

They make a face at him. "Ew. Stop talking."

"Ew?" (Should he be offended by that?)

"It's not like that. You know Kyle?"

"That sonal energetic from math class?"

"Yeah, him. The jackass."

"You call everyone a jackass. That's not a clear identifier coming from you."

"Most people are. But him especially."

"What about him?"

"Long story short, if I can keep up a relationship until prom, he'll owe me $500 dollars, plus I get to punch him in the face."

"What?"

They continue like he hasn't spoken. "You will help me win. In exchange, I'll give you half of the profits."

"Why would you-"

Something almost vulnerable flickers in their eyes for a second, but it's gone before he can decipher it. "What can I say, I love money. I wanna be like Scrooge McDuck diving into a swimming pool full of gold. Are you in?"

Is his brain short-circuiting? Is that medically possible? "I- Why me?"

"Because you know how to keep your mouth shut. I can't risk some random blabbing to Kyle and losing me my winnings. Our winnings, if you agree."

"What if I don't agree?"

They shrug. "Then you'll lose out on $250 and I'll find someone else. And if you snitch, I'll make your life a living hell."

"You really know how to woo a guy, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm Casanova over here. So?"

This is crazy. It's stupid. It's completely ridiculous. He shouldn't entertain this for a second, especially not with someone as standoffish and weird as his sullen new packmate who has never once given him or his family the time of day. He thinks about his dad, always stressing the importance of pack and going way over the extra mile for anybody who needs help. What would he do in this situation? David can't even imagine, because this is the kind of thing he never thought happened outside of stupid 90s movies. He did ask David to make an effort to bring the new pack member into the fold and to get to know them. But surely not by participating in some definitely ill-fated scheme involving 500 dollars, right?

He sighs. "How exactly would this work?"

They hum thoughtfully, pulling their lunch tray closer and unwrapping their cafeteria sandwich from its clingfilm before opening it and separating its ingredients into discrete piles at opposite corners of the tray. "I'm thinking we just act like we're into each other at school and pretend we're hanging out on the weekends. We can coordinate our stories in case anyone asks."

"That's it?"

"What? You think it needs more?" they ask, tearing the sandwich bread in half.

It feels... anticlimactic, in a way. But that's probably good. "I guess not."

"Fab," they say, somehow managing to pack that one syllable with more scathing sarcasm than most people could probably manage in multiple sentences. "So are you in?"

David sighs. "I guess I'm in."

"Cool." They wrap half of the bread back up in the clingfilm and put it into their backpack, then fold the other piece on itself a few times and shove it in their mouth. "We're done here."

"Seriously?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't think we have to talk about this more?"

They swallow the bread. "About what?"

David represses the urge to slam his head against a bookshelf. "Well... if we're... pretending to date. Here. There should probably... be some... physical contact."

"If you're gonna hurl, try not to do it on my lunch," they snap, pulling it away from him and picking up the lettuce that used to be in the sandwich before tearing it into shreds. "What about it?"

He decides slamming his head against the bookshelf wouldn't really do it, and briefly considers just walking away and lying on the football field to be punted around and trampled by jocks. "Shouldn't we have... I mean, some kind of... codeword, or something?" He wouldn't by any means claim to know a lot about them or their life, but... he's noticed things. Like how they always sit in places where they can see the whole room and there's no risk of someone walking up behind them. Like how they always look like they're gauging the distance between themself and the person closest to them, shuffling back if that space grows too small. Like how they watch the movement of people's hands more than their faces, and tense just a little bit if voices around them grow loud or heated. Whatever picture those pieces belong to looks pretty fucking unpromising, and if this is happening the last thing he wants to do is make them feel unsafe.

"You want a codeword." Their voice has gone stiff and angry, and shit, somehow he's messed this conversation up in a very short span of time.

"Well, yeah." He can tell he's walking on dangerous ground, but this is too important to drop.

They glare at him. "What, you think I'm gonna jump you? Crawl under your shirt in the middle of English class?"

"What-"

"Sure, fine, let's have a codeword. How about Appalachian? Or 'the spotted owl flies at dawn'? Or-"

"For fuck's sake, I am trying to respect your damn boundaries," David snarls, and they go quiet, looking shocked.

The silence between them thickens to the point of discomfort. "Oh," they say finally. "Well. That's- okay, then."

"Yeah."

They sigh, looking everywhere except at him. "I mean, we only really need to keep this up at school. And maybe pack stuff. So... it's not like we need to do anything, uh- you know. Just... we could... hold hands, I guess? Is that-"

"Fine," David mutters, feeling heat crawl up his neck. "Anything around that level is... fine. But we should still-"

"Okay, alright..." they sigh. "What about... darling?"

David contemplates the lying on the football field thing again. "What?"

They growl, rolling their eyes. "Like a sappy pet name, you know. It's subtle and if either one of us say it then we back off."

"Okay. Makes sense."

"Makes sense," they echo quietly, staring at the ground.

The bell rings and both of them jump up quickly, relieved to be done with this conversation. They pick up their tray and book, then nod at him. "I guess we can start tomorrow?"

"Sure," David says, head starting to spin nervously as the reality of what he's agreed to starts hitting him. He follows them out of the library and walks down the hallway with them in silence until another thought strikes him. "Why'd you say 'ew'?"

"Huh?"

"When I thought you were actually asking me out. You said ew."

"Oh," they smirk, dumping their leftovers into a trash can outside the cafeteria and setting the tray on top. "Yeah."

"Well?"

They shrug. "Nothing personal. You're just... way too tall."

"I'm... tall?"

"Uh-huh."

"You're tall." Still a few inches shorter than he is, of course, but definitely above average height.

"Yeah, but I'm a normal tall. You're, like, aggressively tall. It's like you're shoving my face in it. What are you doing up there, foraging for leafy growth?"

He feels weirdly offended, and then annoyed with himself for being offended by the judgement of his weird pack member who reads environmental terrorism novels alone during lunch. "It's not exactly like I had a choice in the matter."

"I know. That's why it's not personal." They turn to face him so suddenly that he almost trips over his own feet. "So... tomorrow, then."

Apparently they're done with that subject. "Right. How do you want to..."

"I guess we just act like we're together and let them figure it out?"

"Yeah. Okay."

They nod once, businesslike, and start walking to their next class, leaving David thinking about how he's going to pull this off.

"Hey, wait," he calls after them. They stop and wait for him to walk closer. "You should... sit with us. Tomorrow at lunch."

"What?" They almost look... nervous?

"It'll look weird if we don't eat together."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess." Their grip tightens on the strap of their backpack until the color bleeds from their knuckles. "Okay then, I will."

"Okay."

This time, they walk away a little faster, as if they're worried he'll stop them again to say they should also get matching face tattoos or promise rings. David closes his eyes and leans his forehead against a locker, wondering what could possibly have compelled him to agree to this. Tomorrow is going to be... interesting, to say the least.

[boobiespasta]

instead of rambling on twitter in its cramped, claustrophobic threads format i've chosen. just the one time. to ramble here. some of the stuff that's been bouncing around in my head for the past 2 weeks. it's weird being so hyperfixated on life instead of media for a change, which really isn't as sexy and awesome as i think it's cracked up to be because instead of rambling about silly creatures from a fictional universe all i do now is just. ramble about life. the times. and i'm just gloomy about it all the time. extremely long winded ramble about politics under the cut

i absolutely refuse to shut up about palestine for one. a palestinian alumni/fellow of my school, his family, his children, all one of the absolutely fucking unforgivable amount of refugees in the jabalia camp who were killed. obviously he is so, so far from the only life to have been taken in the atrocities, but my fucking school's newspaper has been fucking things up spectacularly when it comes to "coverage" and my school in general just. i get so fucking angry. our alumns are dying and yet my school chooses in its official statements to mostly address israel and the alleged peril our jewish student population... when i've been following on ig every palestinian student org for my school i can find and they've been begging for some publicity or support from the school it's just so fucking vile. it makes me so upset that i got lazy and literally was too busy gaming the day of transfer apps and now i'm stuck at this fucking... state uni, possibly rotting here for my undergrad. at the same time god forbid i follow in my father's ivy league footsteps and shoot for ivy league because fucking COLOMBIA and UPENN are being TARGETTED by the FUCKING c2n@ry or5aniz@ti0n which. i literally cannot fucking express how fucking angry the fact that that exists at all makes me. the future of our generation's activism is cast deep in the shadow of our incompetent fucking predecessors. god forbid we get younger voices in power! god forbid we protest to make a difference, lest we get actual targets put on our heads! and i've listened to the contrary as much as i loathed to, because that's what makes a productive opinion. synthesis. and i have never felt less compelled by a counter stance before. every day videos of parents holding the dismembered limbs of their children, israelis making a tiktok trend out of kidnapping and or mocking palestinians, the sitting head of the UN in new york releasing a letter of resignation because of the anguish he feels watching an organization dedicated to peace fail so miserably at its job... all of it should radicalize everyone. people should be making calls to their representatives, keeping discussions frequent. making sure everyone around you knows that antizionism does NOT equal antisemitism. i will not argue to the contrary; i grew up conservative and with a devil's advocate personality, and i think anyone even considering a neutral stance should genuinely be ashamed of themselves.

in other only slightly less depressing news, taking a class on korean diaspora has made me go through so many different identity shifts in the past few weeks and i feel like it's just made me gloomier. i'm taking an upper classman seminar class about korean diasporic activism through performing arts which was so hilariously specific that i laughed when i realized it was my only option (i tested out of every other korean level) and i was like well i'm korean diaspora this should be so easy but it's genuinely the most challenging class i've ever taken. every week lately i've just cried and cried reading the texts we're assigned to read because i've never felt so seen and so doomed before. i did a presentation on a WONDERFUL text excerpt by professor emerita at uc berkeley elaine h. kim that spoke to all of the racism i endured growing up, the first generation child that "rises above" their immigrant parents and finds success in the model minority mold by exploiting, exoticizing, fetishizing their own identity... i learned in the past few weeks (so genuinely very recently) that, despite my appearance, i'll never be a true korean; a native korean will never understand the extent of the discrimination i faced. being afraid to eat ethnic food in front of peers fear of it being called smelly or stolen altogether, getting slotted into the japanese/chinese binary categories before the rise of kpop, why i get so excited to see ethnic korean faces and food, my struggle to take my diverse interests and fit them into a cookie cutter mold to one of the most violently homogenous societies on earth, why any korean child in america like me would ever want to be white if that meant we wouldn't stick out. nor am i a true american; this being more self explanatory, of course. what does that make me? an imbricate mongrel of the two identities? i learned, in fact, that i am korean-american: something almost entirely independent of both nationalities. i learned that korean-americans have a rich history of finding ourselves in places we don't belong and making establishing loud communities to fight for our own rights. immigrating to hawai'i in the early 1900's, establishing committees and supporting our motherland who ultimately turned around and spat in our faces. our new place was almost just as unwelcoming; and after weaseling our way into black communities without first addressing racism, koreans found ourselves at the apex of black and brown anger across america during the la riots (to be korean-american is to be born with the blood of latasha harlins on your hands). we were desperate to distance ourselves from the japanese, triply in a bout of patriotic self-perceived superiority, rise beyond a race of people who tried to ethnically cleanse us, and in an attempt to prove we were "one of the good ones," but we were still placed in japanese internment camps. we're still expected to prostrate ourselves at the feet of every wrinkly us vet with a korean war badge on their hat. "we saved your gook asses."

but to be asian-american at all is also to be doomed to a life of never rising beyond the model minority ceiling. the model minority "model" as it were promises a life of permanent mediocrity in exchange for some semblance of security (and even then we're a dime a dozen; all competing against each other and evolving like bacteria, we cannibalize ourselves anyway and suddenly our employers' jobs have gotten that much easier). those who try to rise beyond the model and prove themselves to society more often than not, not deemed exemplary, but instead seen as having fulfilled their life cycle or reached their point of maturity in the "life of the species" (chay yew); they're in turn locked into to a life of monotony as they've "found their niche" as analyst hyeon youngbin puts it... "everything one achieves after entering the system is attributed not to the individual’s ability but to the efficacy of model minority status; the more you achieve, the more you justify the model minority." asian-americans in particular will always, no matter what they do, perpetuate the model minority in our attempts to achieve our "ideal labour" (youngbin); those who defy it suffer for it and are seen as asians who failed or weren't smart enough, those who fit comfortably into it perpetuate its abuse and are oftentimes miserable (as one tends to be living a life in servitude of/being a poster child of capitalism despite rarely being rewarded for it), and those who try to challenge and overcome it simply come to realize that the ceiling is both low and infinite, and that they, if anything, are inadvertently the most aggressive contributors to model minority-isms.

anyway. ive been really bothered and gloomier than usual because of this shit. its nice to be able to type it all out without the breaks in concentration between thread tweets

[saltyladynightmare]

Jiliu AU 9.2

Beginning, Previous, Next, Masterlist

A/N:

Ori'Ana : mando'a/basic, a mix of Ori'vod, and Anakin, basically naming him Older Brother Anakin, just as the suffix -'ika makes 'younger Brother' from Vod'ika

/italics/ : thoughts, emphasis

bold : talking though the Force, because why not

Chapter 9 is not completely finished, but chapter 10 is an idea. If anyone has any ideas for scenes in which the Vod'e are learning how to use the Force, please feel free to contact me or leave a comment. So far, all of my ideas involve various troopers launching themselves into walls when they jump/run/do something too fast. It gets monotonous after a while.

Warnings:

Anakin is a lonely string bean. He also has no trust in the Jedi, because I was salty when i started writing this, and must stick to my guns. Mentioned mistreatment of the Coruscant Guard.

~~~~~~

Fox commed at 0003. When Anakin accepted the comm, he was unsurprised to find it was only audio. Fox was using the comm built into his helmet; the one with top tier GAR encryptions, assigned to each Clone Commander. Exactly as careful as Anakin had hoped.

"General Skywalker," Fox greeted.

"Commander Fox," Anakin returned easily. If titles were what Fox wanted to use right then, than Anakin had no problems letting him lead the conversation in a direction that would make him most comfortable. "I'll warn you now; this isn't a social comm."

"Your earlier comm conveyed that, sir," Fox assured gruffly.

Oh, good. "I know you're busy, so I'll do my best to keep this brief," Anakin started. "Due to..." whatever in the name of the Force had happened, "...an incident on my last mission, I'm on medical leave for the foreseeable future."

"What?" Ah, there's Ori'vod Fox, as Anakin knew and adored. Never mind that Anakin was a little under nine years older than him. Elder Sibling was a mindset, not a birth order, even if he and Fox had a weird tendency of tossing that particular title back and forth like a live grenade.

"I'm fine," Anakin stated. "I'm not dying, or even lightly maimed. I'm moving around on my own, and I'm not on bed rest." Anakin inhaled to continue, but hesitated. He cursed himself. This is Fox. Anakin can tell him this kind of thing without being judged for more than being a little bit of an idiot. He was pretty sure. But really, even if he was wrong and Fox did judge him, what dignity did Anakin have left? "I'm currently confined to a heavily shielded room in the Healing Halls, because the Force is suddenly excruciatingly loud and my body responds appropriately, but physically okay."

"Appropri—you're saying that your body is acting like its taking sonic damage?"

Anakin grinned. "Yes. Good news is: there is a possible treatment option, but I'm probably not going to see results for a few days if it does actually work." It'd work. Anakin would make sure of it, even it meant hemorrhaging energy into the Force itself. He would not stay in this room for a moment longer than necessary. "In the mean time, I've been confined to a heavily shielded room with limited access to the outside, and a To Do list longer than a venator-class cruiser. I was wondering if the Guard was able or willing to assist my men in getting some of the things on my list completed."

Fox went quiet for several beats. Anakin bit his lip to force himself to remain silent, giving Fox enough time to process.

It didn't take him long. "You'll want Guide," Fox stated.

"If he's willing," Anakin agreed.

Fox concurred, "If he's willing." The crackle of flimsy shuffling fizzed through the admittedly shoddy speakers of Anakin's make-shift comm. "I can arrange for four Vod'e to be available at oh-six hundred today."

"Excellent." Anakin hauled his aching body up onto the chair behind him, and reached for one of the closer, mostly blank datapads. "If you could comm me with the names of the four, I'll wright up instructions to send them."

"Will do."

Nerves rolled in Anakin's gut, but he shoved them away. Fox is reasonable, and if he turns Anakin away, that's on him, he reminded himself. "While we're talking," he started forcefully casual, "does the Guard need anything? We're aiming mostly for medical supplies and food, but I want to introduce Torrent to little bit of everything."

Fox hummed contemplatingly. Anakin tapped a free finger against the datapad. Fox didn't need to think about what the Guard needed; he knew because he was a good Commander. He was staling because, like most competent people who'd been spurned before, Fox was hesitant to ask for anything like assistance.

"Ten crates of food, and three crates of medical supplies," he said eventually.

"No problem." Anakin typed the requests into the 'pad one-handed, making a note to triple that if at all possible, and maybe see about getting them a quick sweet snack they could stash in their utility belts. It was the least he could do.

While he typed this, and Fox filed his mountains of datawork, something pings softly on Fox's side of the comm. A moment later, Fox told Anakin, "Guide has agreed to act as a guide."

Anakin grinned. "Well, that's one thing off my mind. And the other three?"

"Pending."

"Ok." Anakin thought about ending the conversation there with a reminder to comm him when Fox had confirmation. Something in him rebelled at the idea. It wasn't a big deal to stay on the line with Fox, it had been awhile since they had talked. And, if Anakin was honest with himself, he really didn't want to be alone right then anyway. If Fox wants to end the comm, then he can, Anakin decided. Until then, they could sit in silence.

Absently humming to himself, Anakin pulled his To Do lists toward himself, and woke up the one with his personal long term list to add a note to talk to Rex about supporting the Guard the next time Torrent got leave on Coruscant.

The idea was to not only help the Guard so they could actually get a few eight hour sleep cycles in a row if they so chose, but also to ensure Torrent understood the Guard were not data processors, or flimsy pushers.

Not that Anakin had heard Torrent's opinion on the Guard, or if they even had an opinion. Still.

Anakin had heard more than a few troopers' thoughts of them, and it had not been good. Best nip that at the bud, really. Especially when such opinions came from ignorance and misinformation.

"The other three have gotten in contact with me," Fox stated abruptly. Anakin twitched in surprise, before blinking at the comm in his mech hand. Right. He was still on a comm. "They've agreed to provide assistance. Sending their comm codes now."

The comm vibrated in Anakin's hand, metal against metal, signifying an incoming text comm. A quick check shows the new comm code, all helpfully labeled.

"I have them," Anakin tapped the tiny screen with his thumb to save the codes.

"All four of them are currently available, General," Fox stated.

Ah. Time to get to work, it seemed.

"Understood, Fox. I'll leave you to your datawork," Anakin assured the Commander. "Hopefully, I'll see you before I get shipped out again, should everything conclude as expected."

"Yes, sir."

And Fox is done for the day. Commander Fox will keep going because he must, but Vod Fox needed either his allotted five hours of sleep or several cups of kaf before he could produce anything like social skills. Understandable. In his place Anakin would be a walking corpse all the time instead of only in the last six hours of his thirty-two hour shift.

"K'oyacyi, Fox." Anakin hit the button that'd end the call before the exhausted man could reply, hoping against logic the man would get some rest some time soon. Stay alive, Fox, stay alive.

Anakin breathed deep, held it, then let it out slowly as he set the comm on the table top.

Fox was a grown man, he'd live this long, he'd survive a few more days if he had anything at all to say about it; this Anakin knew.

Trusting this was, as always, more difficult than Anakin could say. He did it anyway. He must.

Anakin sighed, and picked up the comm again.

He tapped the screen a few times, calling up the comm codes Fox had sent him, then selected the one that looked the most familiar.

Hopefully, this would be Guide.

The comm rings once, then clicks to signify it had been answered.

"CT-5155."

Anakin smiled at the crisp acknowledgment. "Good morning, Guide. Eat anything interesting recently?"

Guide perked right up. "Ori'Ana!"

"Upani," Anakin returned warmly. "Fox said you had agreed to assist my men in our endeavors?"

"Torrent, right? Yes, I did," Guide affirmed. "Do you have plan for tomorrow, sir?"

"Less plan, more To Do List. If I give you the comm code of the other three volunteers, could you add them to this call?" Anakin smiled sheepishly. "My...device is a little limited."

"No problem!"

In short order, Guide linked in three other Vod'e.

Immediately, in the manner of siblings everywhere disturbed by another particularly daring sibling, they started complaining.

"What in the name of the Force is this supposed to be?" It wasn't until the unspoken threat crackled through the tiny speakers on his comm that Anakin realized exactly who he had on comm.

"A debriefing!" Anakin chirped.

The comm went silent. Then—

"Commender?"

"Sir?"

"Ori'Ana!"

The three Vod'e try to out speak the others, but it was Guide's near demented giggling that won out in the end. Anakin grinned.

"The one and only! It's good to know you three are still among the living," he greeted. "My understanding is that the four of you have volunteered to act as guides for my men as they run errands?"

"We did, sir, although I hadn't known the Favor Commander Fox mentioned was to you," Ka'ahk stated.

Faze, Guide, and who Anakin could only assume to be Slip, Guide's newest not-so-shiny partner after his last one had learned all he could from Guide about the lower levels of Coruscant, named such for his ability slip out of any sort of sticky situation Guide might fling himself, and thus his partner, into, murmured their agreement.

Heh. "Classic Fox move there," Anakin observed. "Now, as I told Guide earlier, I have a To Do list I both need and want completed before I ship out—"

The next few hours are spent going over what, exactly, the four Guardsmen would be helping his men with over the next few days. When they need to sign off to get their scheduled five hours of sleep—and, oh, did he both await and dread the moment Kix caught wind of that little detail— Anakin began messaging and comming his lower level connections to arrange for a drop of disguises that would make the men less obviously clones by midday.

That done, he messaged the four Guard Vod'e with the coordinates of the drop, and the instructions on how to get them. Then, he messaged his Command Staff with the details of what he had done.

Breathing in deep, Anakin forced himself to set his comm down. He checked his To Do lists, and grumbled at finding there really wasn't much more he could do at—he glanced at the clock and cringed—0347 in the morning.

A quick evaluation of himself revealed he was /way/ too wound up to even consider sleeping right then.

Okay, now what?

He plopped his chin on his palm, eyes wondering around the walls the light from his datapad barely touched. He could work on the mousedroid, or stretch some. Except he didn't really want to do either of those things.

So what else—ah. His eyes land on the neat pile of holocrons in the center of the table.

Rex had left him the list of questions he couldn't answer before, right?

He looked at the clock again.

Yeah, he had time.

With a flex of his fingers the holocron on top lifted up and came to hover before him. A twist in the force here, and a press there, and its seals cracked open, allowing greenish white light to escape. It swirled gently, then twisted up and around into a humanoid figure in armor.

Anakin sat back. "Hello, General."

"Greetings, General."

[sunbeammuhebi]

Bird Of Paradise - Atsuhina

The college life isn’t for everyone. The food, the classes, the stress, the lack of a social life. Being a well regarded assassin makes it even harder for Hinata Shoyo. His next target, assigned to him from an unknown client, Miya Osamu, another student at Rikorisu academy. Shoyo believed this job wouldn’t be too hard for him, he’s had worse jobs than this. There’s just this one thing in his way, Osamu's twin brother, Miya Atsumu. 

dark academia, violence, assassins, friends to enemies to lovers.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43736287

Chapter 1: Carnation

“Could you imagine a world without violence? A world without greed? If you take away the darkest parts of humanity, would you really be left with only the good? There can’t be light without dark. Inside of us all, there’s black and white. It’s impossible to judge people through a lens of good and bad” I take a second to digest what I just read from my anthropology 101 class. Good and bad, black and white, violence, greed. To be honest I can’t imagine a world without these things. There’s good people, yes, but we all do bad things. 

Sigh. I halt my studying and take time to look at the sunset. I have the best view from this rooftop. 

Me Especially. 

My name is Hinata Shoyo, I’m a college sophomore. Honors student here at Rikorisu academy on a full academic scholarship. If you saw me you’d think I was just some basic nerd college student, and that’s exactly what I want. I wouldn’t want you to find out that I’m actually the most wanted assassin in the country. I wouldn’t want you to find out I’ve killed at least 25 people. I wouldn’t want you to find out I’m part of the biggest vigilante association in history, the Birds of Paradise, who’ve been the only family I’ve known. 

If you did find out my identity, then you’d probably ask, “Shoyo, you don’t feel guilty for all of the murder you’ve done?” I would tell you no, but the actual answer is yes, I do feel guilty, although I’ve only killed people whose intentions hurt others. I only kill villains, bad guys, people who’s dark shines brighter than their light. 

I sit on the edge of the roof, and let one leg dangle off. This building, Saisei Hall, has a roof you can’t see from the ground, no one would notice me here. No one would notice if I fell from the top. And no before you think anything, I’m not suicidal, so don’t worry. I just think it’s interesting how the fall can happen so much quicker than the rise. The force of gravity hauls on your wings and suddenly you're plummeting down to a place even shallower from where you started.

And no one would notice. No one would ca-

The rickety sound of the door opening jolts me out of my thoughts. I didn’t expect anyone else to be up here at this time. I hope whoever is here doesn’t notice me, I really don’t feel like coming up with an excuse right now. As I watch from the ledge on the other side of the roof a tall guy with blonde hair. I can tell it’s dyed because his roots are a dark brown. Luckily he stands against the rail on their opposite side of the roof with his back turned to me. His jacket says Rikorisu Red Devils Volleyball. He’s on the volleyball team. I’ve always wanted to play volleyball but I decided not to, I can’t maintain a sport and be an assassin. I decided to stay quiet and not say a word. To be honest I don’t know why I’m staying quiet, it’s not like anything could go wrong if he notices me. But my job here is to stay discrete, I don’t really need friends. 

I hear a phone ring, I don’t feel a buzz in my pocket so it must be his. He finally picks up after a few more rings. 

“Hello.” His voice smooth like butter, not too deep, not too high. 

“Yeah I know captain, it’s just…..So what he’s my brother, what’s wrong with calling a piece of trash a piece of trash.” Damn harsh, I wonder if his brother is actually as bad as he says he is. 

“Why do I have to apologize?! It’s his fault we lost!” Now he’s yelling, its ruining my peace. Granted I can’t hate him for it since he doesn’t know I’m here. I take note of his way of speaking. Kansai dialect? So he’s probably from Hyogo. 

“Fine…fine..I’ll apologize..” He goes quiet for a second, I think the call is over. 

He sighs heavily and looks up. It’s odd he chose that side of the building, it faces towards the campus. The side I’m on has a much better view of the forest and the sky. 

“Damn Samu, he shoulda quit a long time ago if he knew he was gonna play like this.” Why is he talking to himself? Why can’t he just leave?I really hope he doesn't have a temper tantrum up here, if he breaks anything I might get into trouble too. 

I don't know why I feel compelled to speak to him. I’m only the best at reassuring others when it’s in my benefit. It looks like he’s turning to leave and before I can even think my lips move.

“Sounds like a tough match today huh?” I say. I’m such an idiot. 

He turns in my direction and looks for the voice who reached him. 

“Who said that?” he questioned. 

I decide to wave my arm so he can see. 

“I thought I was alone up here, wait…..” He finally finds me and stops in his tracks. 

“Umm….please get away from the ledge…I don’t want you to fall..” Ah he’s worried I’m thinking about jumping. 

“Don't worry, I’m not gonna jump or fall, I actually like my life.I should be the one asking you to stay away from the ledge. You sounded pretty mad over there.” I turn to finally face him, and god I probably shouldn’t have because what the fuck. Why is he so pretty? I show no emotion in my face. I don't want him to assume I think he’s cute or anything. I hate giving people ego boosts. 

“Yeah…about that…”

“You guys lost. You’re mad you lost, it’s okay to be mad. No one likes losing, I get it.” I reassure him. He sits down next to me but not on the ledge. 

“Nah it’s not just that. I got into a fight with my brother about it. It wasn’t the usual fight where we don’t speak to each other and all of a sudden things are fine again. Sigh. I think I actually fucked up this time.” He looks down at the vast forest of trees. It’s easy to get lost in the heat of anger. It’s even harder to amend things after. 

“I’m sure if you talk it out, it’ll be fine. You agreed to apologize anyway.” I say.

“Yeah, I hope your right long orange haired stranger.” he says. Honestly I don’t want to tell him my name and before I say anything he says.

“You don’t have to tell me your name, to be honest I’m gonna forget it.” Well that settles it. 

“If that’s the case then I won’t ask for yours, short piss hair stranger.” I replied. I don’t know where this teasing mood came from.  

“Piss hair?! Haha, okay I’ll admit you have a sense of humor tangerine.” Tangerine? Of course he picked the easiest comparison. 

“What were you reading?” He points at my anthropology 101 book. 

“Anthropology 101: Good vs. Evil. It’s something I have to read for class.”

“You actually read the books? I could never. I just go on sparknotes.” He grabs the book and begins to flip through it.

““It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.” I think I count as charming.” He says. 

“No, I think you're more tedious.” I roll my eyes. I can tell this guy has his annoying parts but so far he’s not so bad to be around. He sits there reading for a bit longer. 

“This actually isn’t a bad read.” He hands the book back to me. “I would stay longer tangerine but I have an early morning tomorrow and I like sleep.” He gets up and starts to walk away. 

“And for what it’s worth, you seem pretty good to me. Don’t stay up here too long. I’ll see you around tangerine” He then waves goodbye and leaves through the rickety roof doors. The silence after the doors close pierces my ears. A quiet reminder of my solitude. 

I look down at the book again. Under the quote he read he left a note. “M.A, I know we agreed to not say our names. But I know you’ll get curious, so there’s a hint :).” Sly just like a fox. When did he have the time to write a note?

I close the book and look out at the forest again. It’s starting to get dark. I should probably go to my dorm to sleep too. My hands feel the roughness of the book cover. M.A huh, it won’t be hard to find out your real name, blonde stranger. 

If I really wanted he would never find out about mine. But that’s the weird thing. 

Why do I want him to know?

[soul-dwelling]

The ask about who the editor of Soul Eater was and nobody knowing it kinda made me realise how surface level a lot of engadgment with manga is, even from super fans - you can see it even from people who are critical - instead making substantial observations it is mostly complaining about power scaling, "plot armor", "asspulls" as if that was the most important thing.

I’m going to push back against this a bit--and I don’t do so out of maliciousness, just to disagree with the question a little bit. 

And that’s based on where I come from in reading, given that I think the assumption people make is that, because I have an advanced degree in literature, that means my interpretation is deeper…

…When, LOL, no, it fucking isn’t: my interpretation is in no way deeper, at least not by education or line of work.

My reading starts the same as anyone else’s, with the evidence on the page, with the first reading--hence, a surface-level reading--before I mull it over more, compare it to similar works and similar authors, the history of when it was written and what it was written about…

…Even as I still will go back to surface-level stuff. 

And that’s because, when you’re talking with people about a text you all read, you always have to (as my teacher told me) “get back to the goddamn text.” That text is the thing we all read, and that’s the thing we have to talk around, regardless what supplemental info we bring in from our own experiences, education, reading, and research. It’d be like coming into class having not read the assigned book and bullshitting about things related to the topic and that assigned book--but you are still bullshitting, because you never actually talked about that book. 

Knowing who the editors of Soul Eater are would be great--but it is no substitution for having read the work yourself, and that means it may seem “surface-level,” but at least we all read the text anyway, and we can talk about what we all read. 

I can’t speak as the average manga fan, but I can’t name very many manga editors, or which manga they edit, and I wonder whether the average manga fan knows either.

That’s why I push back on the idea that this is all surface-level engagement. 

My approach with literature--whether as a reader, a fan, a student, a scholar, a teacher, or a researcher--is to start with the words on the page. Your engagement typically doesn’t start with the history of the moment being represented in that story, or the biography of that work’s author, or anything about yourself and your life and your ethics and feelings--it starts with what is on that page. That is the “surface,” and that is fine, because, ideally, everything you need to know about the text _initially_ is on that page. You can’t make much of a good interpretation of the work if you depend on the author to tell you what it means, if you depend on a teacher telling you what to think of the work, if you need a history lesson. 

All of that stuff is important, but it comes later: you read Soul Eater at the surface level, _then_ you dig into what the author thought, what scholars think, what the history was at the time it was written or the history of what is represented. But if you can’t start with why this story, on its own, if you knew nothing about it, appealed to you, or at least got you asking questions, then it’s not a very good text--it’s just something whose quality is propped up by external resources, like an empty novel that a teacher talks up because other teachers talk it up, or a film that is talked up because it made a lot of box office money. 

This is why I appreciate readers complaining about power scaling, plot armor, and asspulls--this is surface level, this is initial reading, this is the first reaction based on only what you first encounter in that text. What else do you talk about unless your first reactions to the text? Maybe the actual problem is that there isn’t something more beyond that surface that isn’t inviting new readers to find new ideas to that text, so all we’re getting are new readers discovering these older works--and their reactions also are surface level, because they too don’t find something new, so they give up on the text as well? 

Upon re-reading you start to move onto more critical thinking about how the text works or doesn’t work, and you explore what went into the thought process to make the work. But I don’t enjoy the text because I know how much effort went into it: a lot of effort, and a substandard result, doesn’t somehow make the substandard result better once I know the work went into it. Cameron’s Avatar can have a ton of money pumped into it; it doesn’t suddenly make the movie’s plot better. Evangelion was a groundbreaking series; it doesn’t somehow make the story better, when other stories have told better versions within that genre or similar topics. Hunter x Hunter isn’t good because it has taken so long to keep going in-between hiatuses: it is good on its own merits. 

Now, learning who edited Soul Eater would help a lot, similar to learning more about Ohkubo would help a lot, to better understand what went into the story and how it turned out as it did--and which other roads the story may have taken if the author and editors went in other directions they had considered.

[a-vvenger]

hide (eddie version)

pairing: eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

(no pronouns used)

summary: you and eddie munson are in a secret relationship and eddie’s pretty convinced you’re ashamed of him

warnings: ANGST, reader lowkey a bitch

a/n: based on the song hide by leanna firestone! give it a listen! this is extremely short but i got nothing else! go read the steve version lol

my masterlist | steve harrington version

We go out, but always leave early

Make me duck down in your passenger seat

you and eddie had been dating for about six months now. the problem was that no one knew it. it wasn’t eddie’s choice but yours. you told him you had a reputation to uphold as a cheerleader. if you were caught with him then you would be kicked off the squad immediately. he was a loud mouth metal head who jason carver had a problem with almost daily. as jason made fun of him everybody laughed except for you.

when the two of you would go on dates it would always be an early dinner or you would be at your own houses. if you did get dinner you couldn’t be out late and if you saw anyone from school you would push eddie’s head below the dash with a “shit, duck down.”

And I'll never tell you how much it hurts me

But it does

it hurt him deeply, but he would never tell you that. he was too afraid to lose you. the only girl who had ever even looked his way. it was by complete accident that the two of you ended up together. the two of you shared an English class and your teacher assigned you to tutor him so he could keep his grade up and hopefully graduate this year. the rest was history.

You like me, as long as its secret

you liked eddie. a lot. but you only showed it to him in private. you barely even showed it when it was just the two of you at a restaurant. too on edge about other people seeing the two of you.

You'll hold me if no one else sees it

you were very touchy when the two of you were alone. always cuddling in bed. hands running through eddie’s hair. but, in public, you wouldn’t be caught dead within a foot of him.

And I'm starting to think that it's me that's the fool

he was starting to wonder if the relationship is really worth it if this is how it’s gonna be. was he a fool to think that this will change after high school?

Cause I'd love to love you

In the light

he wanted nothing more than to hold your hand in the halls. wanted to walk you to class, a hand on your back guiding you. he didn’t want it to matter that you two were together as long as you loved each other.

And I hate that you make me hide

he hated that you made him hide his love for you.

We live in shadows and silence

you would only kiss him where the light didn’t touch. in your bedrooms with the doors closed and curtains shut.

You'll kiss me as long as I'm quiet

and as long as he didn’t tell anyone about the two of you, you would continue to kiss him as much as he wanted, as long as it’s in the shadows.

But still, I check if your eyelids are closеd

when you fall asleep wrapped in his arms, he always check to see if your eyes are actually closed. he checks that you aren’t still scared that people will find out in the privacy of your rooms. because if he can’t bring that comfort to you then he wasn’t enough.

Cause I'd love to love you

In thе light

he wanted you to feel safe enough to be with him no matter what. if jason carver found out and got you kicked off the squad then he wanted you to know that he would be there always. if he didn’t he was afraid you’d leave him for them.

And I hate that you make me hide

the secrets were crushing him daily. he couldn’t tell his friends at hellfire, his uncle, anybody. you made him promise.

I hate that when you talk to me

It's usually hushed

even in the quiet of his bedroom you spoke in whispers. he doesn’t think he’s ever heard your voice above that of a whisper. the hushed sound of your voice making tears roll down his cheeks as you turn away from him while you sleeps. right after you had whispered good night.

And I always have to guess whether or not

You're in love

yes you had told him you loved him but he had his doubts. if you truly loved him, would you be able to keep it a secret? would you be able to act like he doesn’t exist outside of your bedrooms.

I don't know how much longer

I can hold on

he wasn’t sure how much longer he could deal with the secrets but he had to keep trying.

But I'd rather have you this way, than no way at all

because if he didn’t try to keep the secrets he would lose you for good. if he told anyone you would definitely choose jason and chrissy over him. and yes maybe that is unfair to him but he couldn’t live without you. he loved you too much for that.

Cause I'd love to love you

In the light

so he kept quiet. he sat back and hoped that one day you would love each other openly. with no care or thought about what others thought of the two of you. that he would have friends that would support the two of you wholeheartedly.

And I hate

How easily you can make me cry

but for now, he would continue to suffer in silence. he would cry at night in your arms after you fell asleep. he hated how easily you made him cry. how you didn’t notice the pain in his eyes as you looked into them.

Don't wanna be the [boy]

You only love at night

and maybe one day he’ll stop being that boy that you only love in the darkness of your bedrooms, maybe one day you’ll love him in the light.

How I hate that you make me

Hide

or maybe one day he would slip from your fingers so slowly that you wouldn’t even notice until max mayfield smacked some sense into you, literally.

[hiphop-rap-and-basketball]

Ya lil’ Glasses | LaMelo Ball One Shot

Pairing: LaMelo Ball x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,588

Summary: You and LaMelo Ball both attend UCLA for undergrad. Of course he happens to be that hype kid the class that’s loud with his friends. You both get paired up to do a project together for the class. He’s kind of mean and pokes fun and although he gets on your last nerve, you may or may not find him just a little tiny bit cute. Maybe.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, mentions of sex, female and male anatomy, orgasm control, possibly cliche, M/F.

A/N: damn forgive me it’s been a while since I’ve written smut, butttt I’m on a roll with writing lately soo that’s not stopping me. Let me know what y’all think ;) enjoyyyyy and happy reading

•••

You cannot believe you were paired up with Melo Ball for the most important assignment of this course for the semester. Yeah, it’s UCLA but they really just let any good sports player in and you cared about your education. He did not. All he did was mess around and crack jokes

with his friends in the class. Imagine acting like that in college, couldn’t be you.

When it came down to finally finding a time to work on it together, you could not wait to get it over with.

The first time you met with him for the project was in the common hall. You both settle down in your chairs and you pull out your laptops. As soon as Melo pulled his stuff out, he hopped on his phone.

“Can we just come up with an idea and be done today?” You ask, not really in the mood to ask for his full attention.

He looked at you before clicking his phone off and licking his lips.

“Yeah sorry, sorry, I gotchu.”

You cannot help but roll your eyes. He sits there in silence for a moment and actually starts shooting out ideas. You start writing them down until you finally agree on one.

“I think that’s a pretty good start,” you say, proud you guys at least got something down.

“I think so too. What you doing after this?” He asks, running his hands over his curls.

“Track practice at 4, shower, hopefully dinner after,” you say as you close up your laptop.

“You run track? Running is gross,” he laughs.

“How you gonna say running is gross when all you do is run up and down the court?” You ask, a little too loudly, someone shushes you and you both crouch down and begin whispering.

“Basketball is more than that,” he shot back, “you wouldn’t know.”

“Oh here we go, you all say that,” you respond, flicking your wrist at him.

“You all?? What that mean?” He asks.

“As in all the basketball players,” you laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you let me know when track become a real sport,” he fires back.

“It is!” You slam your fist on the table and he smirks, as if he is happy to get you all riled up.

“Mhmmm,” he replies.

“Over this conversation,” you say, getting up and throwing your backpack over your shoulder.

“When you trying to meet next?” He asks calmly, standing up close in front of you. You were looking up at him now, him being more than a foot taller than you made you feel small.

“I’m free all afternoon Wednesday, my class ends at 12:45p.m.”

“You would know when your class ends, nerd.” He responded.

You cock a brow at his attempt at a roast.

“Shut up,” you responded.

“Wednesday at 2p.m. Your dorm. How’s that sound?” He smiles.

“That works,” you shrug. He smiled at you before walking away. You both go your separate ways.

Wednesday came around quickly. Your head hurts today, so you decided to put your glasses on instead of wearing contacts. Even though you knew that would not help you deal with Melo’s bs. He was extra unfocused today.

“How was your dayyy?” He asked as he walking into your dorm room. He looked huge walking through the door it was kind of funny actually.

“Fine, and yours?” You ask, feeling obligated to do so since he asked you first.

“It was alright, better now that we are here working on our project together bestie,” he jokes, plops himself down on your bed to make himself comfortable. You sat on your desk chair facing him.

You caught up with a couple ideas and worked on some your work, actually getting something done, for now.

You had to show each other your screens, so you awkwardly sat next to him on the bed. He sat up. The two of you now with your backs up against the wall and feet hanging off the bed. You sit in silence for a moment.

“I like ya lil glasses, can I try them on?” He asked, smiled and looking in your direction now.

“N-“ before you could answer, he already swiftly pulled them off your face and put them in his anyway. You roll you eyes.

“Do I look smart?” He asked with the cheesiest smile on his face.

“You look stupid,” you reply coldly, although you secretly kind of liked how they looked on him. They fit his face well.

“I think you’re mad they look better on me,” he replied with a scoff.

“You’re sooo annoying,” you reply. Surprisingly feeling yourself fight a smile. “Can you focus please?”

He does the opposite of focusing, eyes looking around your dorm room for a moment.

“Have you ever had sex with a guy? Are you even straight,” He asked, catching you off guard. You took full offense to his question. Not because of him questioning your sexual orientation, but rather him thinking that was his business.

“That’s a personal question,” you respond quickly.

“Seriously? You have this single dorm all to yourself. You don’t even use it to its full benefits. You know how many girls I’d be bringing over if I lived in a single,” he tossed his pencil up in the air and caught it as he spoke.

“I’m here for my sport and to learn, not everything in college is about seeing how many people you can have sex with, Melo.” You responded, typing away at your computer.

Melo slowly lifted your computer off your lap, placing it on the opposite side of him.

“Hey-“ you reach out your hand to it. The room suddenly feeling a lot smaller than it was now that his face was right next to yours and you had nothing to do to keep your hands busy.

“Have you ever even kissed a guy?” He asked, you loosen up at his tone, which oddly enough seems a bit more sincere now.

“Um, no, no actually I haven’t,” you responded quietly, looking down on your lap.

“I don’t believe that.” He responded. “Stop lyin.”

“It’s true,” you shrug, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiles, making your heart skip a beat or two, but you’re usual chatterbox brain was too nervous to agree.

“Beauty standards have nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t kissed anyone yet. I simply choose not to settle-“

He cuts you off by grabbing the back of your neck with his large hands and pulling you in for a kiss. It lasted for what felt like forever but it was only about 10 seconds. Although you were surprised, you did not want to fight it, and you even found you hands settling on top of his shoulders before he pulled away.

You stared at him for a moment, wondering what in his right mind made him want to do that.

“Anyway, I’m ready to focus now,” he smiled, got up and sat in desk chair you were sitting in first.

You sat there eyes wide, trying to process what just happened.

“Um.. yeah… yeah okay,” you say slowly.

You sat there and decided to not acknowledge what just happened as well. Trying to focus on your work, you could not help by to continue replaying that moment in your head. The kiss on repeat for a while. A couple days even. You saw him in class and he was so nonchalant about it. It started to bother you.

It took everything in you not to ask him about the kiss. Not wanting to seem desperate but at the same time what the fuck. That caught you off guard completely.

The next time you too worked together, you worked in his dorm. His roommate was in there with you guys, engaging in the occasional conversation with the two of you.

This time, you actually cared about how you looked, wearing a little make up and wearing a floral sundress that stopped midway on your thighs.

When you walked up to the door, Melo looked you up and down for a moment before letting you in. He had shorts on with no shirt. His athletic build made your cheeks turn hot and look at the ground quickly.

“Welcome in,” he gestured. You walk in and it looks just as you thought a guys dorm room would look like. A damn mess.

You watched him with his back turned as he stood by his closet of clothes, muscles taut as he pulled a new shirt over his head.

You shuffled to get your stuff of your backpack out before he caught you staring and got to work.

His roommate was cute, and you did not care that you were flirting it up with him right in front of Melo. He kissed you with no explanation. You were determined to figure out why.

“Alright, I’m heading to the gym,” his roomie stated and you smile.

“Have funn,” you reply. You watch him walk out the door, looking down at your lap to flatten your dress then look back up at Melo. His face very clearly annoyed and unamused.

“What?” You smirk, asking in an oh-so innocent tone.

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head in response.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “You sound a little pressed.” You push, big smirk on your face as you spoke.

“I’m good,” he replied coldly.

You confidently put your hand on his shoulder and replied. “Okay,” in a sarcastic tone.

He was not fucking with that. He pulled your arm down from his shoulder and pulled you into a kiss, this being your second time feeling his lips on yours. This one was more intense. You remember thinking of his lips and how they felt from the last kiss. Feeling them again made your heart pound with excitement.

“Shut up and don’t make me admit to jealousy,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

His hands gripping the back of your hair and he spoke, eyes bouncing from your eyes and lips.

“Hmmm, I think you just did,” you nod your head and shrug your shoulder. He was not having your sarcastic tone. He pulled you closer to him, this time he was laying down and you were sitting top of his lap. He refused to break the kiss, hands from down your neck to your lower back.

In your mind, you were strategically making sure you were right on top of his dick. His lips felt so good to feel again. You were so lost in the heat of the moment now, as he began using his tongue in your mouth, you let out a small moan for the first time.

He let go of the kiss for a moment and smirked.

“I wanna hear your beautiful moans,” he admitted, voice deep and full of lust.

He flipped you over and now your body was underneath him on his bed. You lied down flat on your back. He hovered himself over you.

Kissing you a couple times more, before kissing his way down your neck and stopping at your breast.

“You knew what you were doing wearing this shit,” he stated sternly.

You roll your eyes, “shut up.”

“You gon stop giving me that smart mouth,” he replied, smirk on his face before making his way down further. Your heart beating even fast now. He lifted up your dress to find you only in a thong.

He quickly looked up you with a smirk on his face, shook his head and carried on. Yanking your panties off, his lip made their way to your clit like a magnet.

You moaned softly at the pleasure, in fear that someone might hear the two of you.

“What if he comes back?”

“I don’t give a fuck, he could watch,” his voice low and eyes hooded, way too focused at the task at hand to even look at you.

Licking and teasing at your folds, you feel yourself getting closer due to all the tension you had built up since you arrived to his dorm, your mind flashing the sight of him when you walked when he was just no shirt on. His dick print very clear through his shorts.

As you felt yourself getting close to the edge, he stopped, and looked up at you.

“Whyyy,” you groaned put your hands over your face in frustration.

“Because, you was talking all that shit,” he said with one finger in your folds as he rubbed it slowly.

“Please,” you said and his surprised eyes look into yours.

“Nope,” he smirked. Now you were not having it.

You reach down to his shorts and very clearly feel his hard member. You looked up at him with pleading eyes as you began to rub it slowly.

He leaned down and started kissing your neck. You and him both knew he did not want this to stop, and he was fighting with every ounce in his bones not to rip your dress off and fuck you right then and there.

But you knew how to get what you wanted.

“Then it’s my turn,” you smile, pushing him off you and getting down on your knees on the side of his twin sized bed.

Knowing you have never done this before, you were slightly worried you would not be that great at it. You moistened your mouth as you pulled his shorts down, you did not have anything to compare his size to, but you were guessing it was bigger than average.

You admired it for a moment before taking it into your mouth. You heard him suck in his teeth as you took a few licks.

“What’s the matter?” You ask innocently looking up at him through your lashes while you swirled your tongue around the tip.

He bit bottom lip threw his head back, you knew that no answer meant that shit was hitting.

“Keep doing that shit with your tongue,” he groaned quietly.

You keep going at it for a while, and stopped when you felt him starting to thrust into your mouth.

“That’s it,” he groaned as he pulled you on the bed, you watched as he began to slowly push himself inside of you, wincing at the pain, he went slow and you warmed up. He looked so good while he stroked you. You started to feel better and better. He watched you as you took all of him now and proudly.

“I told you to stop talking all that shit,” he groaned.

“I don’t regret it,” you smirk.

“You bout to,” he stated as he began to speed up the pace.

You moaned louder as he continued to thrust into you. You could not believe this moment was actually happening. Him giving into it fed into your pride.

You watching at he admired every ounce of body, gripping and tugging at your soft spots. He held your hips as he picked up the pace.

He pulled out and finished himself off on your stomach. You lay there feeling a mess, he gets a towel and you guys get yourselves together throwing the occasional smirk at each other.

“You look so pretty taking this dick,” he stated, grabbing your neck and kissing you slowly. You smiled into the kiss.

“I’ll do it again,” he confirmed, both hands holding your face as he kissed you hard, tonguing you down.

“Chillll,” you laugh. “Let’s get this damn assignment going already.”

[euryd-ce]

❁ MONSTER

PAIRING: Yan! Lady Thirteen! Michiko x GN! Assassin! Reader

CW: General Yandere Themes, Implied Stalking, Murder, Violence

NOTE: Mildly headcanon-based

Lady Thirteen is a very generous woman - especially when it comes to her underlings, and even more so to her favourite.

You used to accept hits - killing contracts - for virtually any price. Anything to keep food on your family's plates for as long as you needed, and anything to restore whatever honor they had after their encounter with a grevious incident that forced their plummet to rock bottom. But they never knew, and you intended to keep it that way.

You came across the little tea shop in the Chinatown by chance, and there you met the woman in charge in the flesh, Lady Thirteen they called her. She had an offer for you - one that you'd only decline if you were an utter fool. It was a hit against a rich bachelor who also happened to run a tea industry that garnered numerous consumers, or as she described it, "attracted the attention of her potential customers."

Naturally, you accepted the offer without hesitation. Though, it made you raise a brow, the fact that she so casually brought up that offer to you - that she seemed to know just what kind of monster you were.

You were good at your job, made it seem easier than it actually was - she'd give you that. The man she had hired you to kill days ago died no more than three days after you agreed to the task. It helps that the blame was pinned unto a high class restaurant he just so happened to eat at that day, where he was allegedly poisoned by one of their well-trained and accountable chefs. Ever since then, the restaurant had been under fire, which meant two less competitors she had to think about.

Once you were given the payment you were promised, you intended to leave, thinking that with how much you were given, it would be a one-time thing. But she spoke, "It's money that you are after, is it not?" She smiled, looking away from you.

You stopped in your tracks, wondering what she had in mind, "I guess..."

"Hmm... Then how about... you work for me?" She offered - tilting her head. It was as if she had planned this out long before.

You were quiet, not because you wanted to disagree, but because you didn't know how to respond.

"You'll be my bodyguard, for most of the part," she added. "But I'll still have targets for you to eliminate, and of course, you'll be compensated very generously."

You turned around in silent agreement. Why wouldn't you? It's not like anyone else was willing to pay you such an absurd amount nor was it like you had already planned out your next move. You believed it'd be practical - for the time being, if not for the rest of your life.

She liked that. She liked you - the way you were straightforward, so clear, the way you seemed easily let her have so much control over you, but most of all, the way you could potentially be just as ruthless as her.

Even as a bodyguard, she continued to assign you to hits. Likewise, you continued to accomplish said tasks, swiftly yet conscientiously - just the way she liked it. The woman almost wanted to see how far you go out of your pursuit for money, how long it would take until you fall into the cold depths of bloodlust, how much you would do for your little secret.

You were eventually tasked to kill your very own colleagues, two assassins that have long retired from the gruesome career. They now worked as the head waiters in the little teashop of the lady that stood before you, but you doubt that their skills have declined at all.

She gave you a sly smirk in response to the incredulous look that made its way unto your face. "Hmm? Are you unable to do it?"

The lady wasn't wrong, in a way. Compared to you, the two had far more years of experience, and had an advantage in number as they were inseparable - your efforts to take them down would be futile. You could possibly die, but you wanted to take the risk anyway. It's not like you ever found anything else to live for other than your family. You never lived for yourself - your destructive greed was always rooted in the people you cared for. It was never because you wanted to, but always because they needed you to, you believed.

"Why?" You asked the lady instead of giving her the answer she wanted.

"Oh? You're questioning me?" She smiled, and looked directly at you, "well if you insist..."

"They are traitors..." She whispered.

A week later, your plan was put into action. You were slick, but not enough to slip through their perceptiveness. Fan Wujiu and Xie Bi'an were more than aware of your plot, cautiously and subtly watching every move you made. They looked down on you - thought you were a fool for thinking you could possibly outplay them. They almost pitied you, thinking they should give you a swift and merciful execution, but they were bored, they missed the thrill of the game they once played - they played with you, delaying your imminent death.

The three of you were in an alleyway. The two gentlemen - your targets - stood without a scratch, laughing while you were already at your limit, bleeding out on the ground.

"You know, I thought you would at least put up a fight..." Xie Bi'an mocked.

"Oh but they did!" Fan Wujiu added before laughing once again.

"With the Madam's lapdog out of the way, everything is going to be so much easier hah!" Xie Bi'an rejoiced.

'so she was right...' You thought, assuming he meant her murder.

The same man crouched down to your level. "Now, is there anything you want us to know?" He asked, referring to why you did it.

"I..." You started to speak, blood still dripping from your forehead, but you flinched at the sound of a loud gunshot that rang from your left side.

"XIE-" Fan Wujiu let out a horrified gasp, but fell to the ground not even a second after.

You thought you were next, but the loud bang that would indicate your immediate death never came. In front of you, your targets still lay motionless on the ground. It wasn't you, it definitely wasn't you, and you of all people knew that. Using the little strength you had left, you escaped the scene as fast as you could. Surely, there were other civilians that heard the gunshots, and the last thing you wanted was to be caught in the middle of your mess.

You immediately went back to the tea shop, ignoring all the horrified stares you received, and made your way to the lady's office. When she signalled for you to come in, you saw her holding a thick stack of cold, hard cash - your payment. It was if she already knew about your violent confrontation, and how the deed had already been done.

But right when she tried to give it to you, you swatted it away, "It wasn't me."

"I know."

You gave her a questioning look, "you know?"

"I know everything," she said with a smug grin on her face. "I have eyes and ears all around this town, you know that?"

"Well," you huffed. "Then you should also know I won't accept payment for something I didn't do, you know that?"

"Take the cash." She ordered.

"No."

The lady scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous, it isn't for you, isn't it?"

Your eyes widened in shock, but your shock was immediately replaced by a glare, followed by you harshly taking the money from the floor and you walking out of her office.

"That's what I thought," she chuckled.

It had been a year since the incident. The targets she'd assign for you to kill increased with the death of her former hitmen. While many of them were rising stars in the business world that posed a threat to her, you noticed that she often requested for you to kill nobodies who did as much as spare a glance at you. It brought to you some rather... unecessary feelings.

You slowly began to see your targets as human. You've gone so far, earned so much to the point that you could no longer see them as walking piles of cash, but as people who had lives that were just as - if not more - complex as yours, lives that you ended in mere seconds or days whether it be through your blades or through your carefully made poisons. You had gone soft, too soft, and she knew.

It was no surprise to her when you came into her office, telling her that you were going to leave, that she should just find someone else to do her dirty work, that you weren't capable anymore. It was funny - she found it funny - that you thought she'd let you go just like that, even after how much she spent to keep you where you were, but she chose to entertain you anyway.

"And? Where do you think you'll go to?" She questioned, not looking at you but instead at her cup of tea.

"Somewhere... It's none of your business, Michiko," you replied, spitting out her real name.

"They'll know. They'll know what you did, where your money is coming from, (Name)." The porcelain cup was set down, making a light clinking sound.

"Who?" You crossed your arms.

She finally looked at you, "your family, who else?"

"That's funny," you looked down and lied through your teeth. "They're dead."

"Really?" She asked with another smug grin on her face - she saw through you.

You on the other hand had enough of her games, and decided that if you were going to leave, you might as well just leave now. After letting out a disgruntled sigh, you made your way to the door, but you were interrupted by a loud bang that sounded eerily similar to the gunshots that saved you, yet haunted you ever since the death of the targets you failed to kill.

You turned and saw your former employer pointing a gun at the ceiling with her gloved hands, "I didn't say you could leave now. Hmm?"

"It was you..." Your glare darkened as she slowly pointed the smoking weapon towards you.

"I suppose," she said, blowing the smoke out of the revolver. "You'll put that aside, won't you? I saved you."

She had a point, you knew she did, and you couldn't argue otherwise. After all, you wouldn't be standing there at all if she hadn't shot the two men for you. She liked you so much that she got her hands dirty just to save you.

"You're a monster..." You gritted your teeth.

"Then that makes two of us, doesn't it?" She retorted. "Don't tell me you think you're an angel just because you're doing it for them."

"I'm not, I- "

"Imagine the looks on your poor parents' faces when they find out that their only child became... A monster." She let out a fake gasp while she slowly circled you.

"They'll drive you out. They'll say you aren't their little (Name) anymore. You'll have nowhere to go, nowhere but back to me." Her hand rested on her chest.

"And even if you did have somewhere to go, I'd look for you. I'd bring you back to where you belong. Even if it means getting my hands dirty again," She threatened, but her features quickly softened.

"Do you understand?"

You looked at her dead in the eyes, and yelled out "NO!" before pushing her down and making a run for it - at least, trying to.

You were immediately chased by many familiar faces, mostly people who worked for her at the tea shop. Most of which you could easily kill, but most of which you'd hesitate to even point your blades at. You outran most of them, and civilians who were unfortunate enough to block your way were harshly pushed aside with you muttering little sorries that were left unheard.

When you were sure that nobody was after you anymore, you stopped to take a break since you were almost out of breath. You sat by a tree nearby the entrance to the Chinatown, which was far larger than you thought with how long it took for you to escape it.

"How did you get here?" the voice of a young man came from above you, causing your eyes to shoot directly upward. You saw a young man sitting on the branch directly above you. The lion hat he wore made him look familiar, but you couldn't quite point out who he was.

As if he heard your thoughts, he introduced himself, "it's Norton... I often see you with my mother... I'm not sure if you've seen me though..."

"Mother? Do you mean Lady Thirteen?" You asked, almost terrified that he was even near you. It seemed to be evident on your face, as he had to reassure you that he wouldn't alert anyone.

"You won't?" You asked, skeptical of him, while he nodded. "Mhm."

"But... Why?" You asked, doubting that anyone else was willing to disobey Lady Thirteen.

"Because," he pointed at the butterfly that had been fluttering around you the entire time.

"She already knows."

You didn't have time to react when you heard the harsh rustling of the wind and you saw a ghostly white figure with red hair quickly dashing toward you - it was her. You tried to stand, to run away again, but you were so focused on your conversation with the young man that you didn't notice he had passed magnets down to you, effectively keeping you in place.

"You!- " You glared at him, angry at yourself for getting outwitted by him as you frantically tried to remove the multiple magnets on your stomach.

"And you..." A gloomy sigh escaped your lips as the ghostly white figure suddenly transformed into the hauntingly beautiful monster you were trying to escape.

"Have you had your fun?" She asked, using her fan to lightly tap on her palm.

You didn't answer her, but instead grabbed one of your hidden knives and tried to throw it at her. You aimed for her heart, but she swatted the knife away with her fan.

"Trying to kill me now?" She questioned, now with a pout on her face. "That's too bad..."

Before you could throw another knife, she grabbed your dominant hand and twisted your wrist, forcing you to let out a shriek in pain. "For safety measures," she claimed.

"I don't trust you, that's all," she said. "I don't want you to die, but you'll try to kill me again, maybe even with the revolver. I'll have to dislocate your other wrist too, won't I?"

"No... I won't..." You trailed off, but started screaming when she started reaching for your only functioning hand. "I WON'T- " you let out another shriek as she not only twisted your wrist but also your entire arm.

"You can still walk. Follow me," she ordered when Norton finished taking his magnets back, but you didn't move, knowing that she'd lead you back to her tea shop.

She sternly looked at you, and scowled, "That was an order."

You continued glaring at her, but once you thought you were ready to make a run for it, she swifty swung her bladed fan around your legs, forcing you to trip.

"Don't tell me you want me to break your legs too."

"Let me ... go ..." You said in between breaths.

"You're very hardheaded, do you know that?" She sighed, looking down on you.

"I can ... kill you ..."

"You won't," she smiled. "You can't, even if you tried - I won't let you." You tried crawling away while she talked, but you were dragged back by her pulling on your dislocated arm, causing you to hiss.

"You're a monster," she echoed your words. "And only a monster like me is capable of loving a monster like you."

She was a predator - a creature of the night who rejoiced in the thrill of the hunt, and you so unfortunately happened to be her favourite prey.

[sunder-soul]

As requested, a Part II to the prompt from @riddles-wifey​​ about jealous Tom!

PART I HERE! 💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Jealousy

Summary: Reader tries to avoid Tom following their strange confrontation, fails miserable, a very different kind of confrontation ensues.

Word count: 1.5k Content warning: making out, nothing too serious.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Something weird happened,” you say bluntly, falling into the seat next to Margot in Transfiguration the next morning.

She immediately looks up from her textbook.

“With Riddle,” you add quietly, glancing around the classroom to check for onlookers and potential eavesdroppers.

Margot’s brows shoot up and a wide grin splits her face. “Are you serious?” she whispers excitedly, leaning in.

“Yeah,” you mutter, pulling out your Transfiguration textbook and some parchment. “I think he thought that me and Varrowe were dating…”

“And?” Margot says immediately, so focused on you that she doesn’t notice Dumbledore stride into the room (which is rather impressive considering he’s dressed in vibrant lime green robes with glittering gold fastenings.)

“He got all mad last night when he saw us together, but then when I told him that I was Varrowe’s tutor, he…” You trail off, twirling your quill in your fingers, very unsure how to even describe what had happened.

“Yes?” Margot prompts, still grinning.

“He got all up close and… intense,” you mumble with a wave of your hand, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

Margot looks delighted. “And?”

“And nothing,” you shrug, dejectedly writing the date at the top of your parchment. “After that he just… left.”

“Sweet Snidgets above,” Margot says, shaking her head with a wry smile on her face. “You snagged Riddle.”

“I haven’t snagged anyone!” you whisper hastily, glancing around again. “And keep your voice down!”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says theatrically, completely ignoring your panic. “Merlin’s beard, wait until poor Olive Hornby finds out, she’s been planning their wedding since first year –”

“She’s not going to find out anything,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes, “because there’s nothing to find out!”

“Sure, sure,” Margot winks, “so what are you going to do?”

“Dunno,” you mutter, “I guess just avoid him for the rest of time.”

“Avoid him?” she repeats, looking scandalised. “Are you completely stupid? Why would you –”

“My deepest apologies, Miss Droope,” Dumbledore calls from the front of the room, making the both of you jump and wheel around in your seats as the entire class turns to look at you. “I’m afraid I must interrupt your conversation with the minor inconvenience of today’s lesson,” he continues with a sparkle in his eye. “Perhaps you two might find a time outside of class to continue your discussion.”

“Sorry Professor,” you both mutter, hastily bending over your notes.

Dumbledore resumes the class, but the side-eye grin that Margot shoots you assures you that you are most definitely not off the hook yet.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Your plan to avoid Riddle works right up until the exact moment that it doesn’t.

It’s a rainy Monday night about a week after the strange conversation with Riddle and you’re holed up in the library with the most gruelling History of Magic assignment you’ve ever had – a sixty inch dissertation on the contributing factors of the Giant Wars.

You throw your quill down and sigh, staring up at the droplets trickling down the dark window and listening to the relentless thrum of the rain. Your eyes are aching and your brain feels like fuzz – it’s definitely time for a break.

You get up and wander down the nearby shelves, vaguely searching for a particular text and fully intending on taking as long as possible to find it, when just like that you round the corner and see Riddle standing in the middle of the aisle.

You freeze.

He hasn’t seen you yet, peering attentively at a text open in one hand as the other traces down its table of contents. You take a slow step back, and right as you think you might get away without drawing his attention, his head swivels around and his eyes flash to yours.

There’s a very loaded pause in which you must look a lot like a deer caught in headlights.

“Evening,” Riddle says smoothly, snapping his book shut with one hand and sliding it back onto the shelf.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“I haven’t seen you around very much lately,” Riddle says casually, leaning against the bookshelf beside him.

“I’ve been busy,” you mutter, avoiding his even gaze as you scan the shelves for the book you’re looking for.

“Oh I’m sure,” he says softly.

You grit your teeth and squint at the books in front of you, determined to ignore him.

“What are you looking for?” Riddle asks.

“Modern Gigantomachy,” you say reluctantly.

“Which edition?”

You glance around at him. He’s still leaning against the bookshelf, looking annoyingly attractive, the waves of his black hair contrasting with his skin, the fine angles of his brows above his dark eyes, the knowing curl on his lips as he watches you –

“Fourth,” you say quickly before you can get too distracted.

Riddle pushes off the bookshelf and is suddenly mere inches in front of you. Your heart immediately lurches as you take an instinctive step away and your back hits the shelf behind you. Riddle delicately arches a brow at your reaction, his eyes fixed on yours as he slowly reaches up to a shelf far above you and slides a book off of it. He hands it to you and you take it automatically.

“Thanks,” you breathe, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Of course,” Riddle says softly.

There’s another silence. Neither of you have moved an inch, and you begin to wonder exactly how many times you’re going to end a hair’s breadth away Riddle before one of you finally caves –

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmurs, a smirk building on his lips.

Your heart stops for a second. “You were jealous of Varrowe,” you blurt out.

Riddle’s smirk falls. He lifts a hand to rest on the shelf above your head, leaning over you very unnervingly. “Jealous?” he repeats sharply

“Yeah,” you breathe, slightly horrified that you’d actually said it out loud. “You were.”

Something works in Riddle’s jaw as he glares down at you, and you hug the book he gave you closer to your chest.

“And why would I be jealous of Varrowe?” he whispers.

You blink at him. Riddle is close, too close, his eyes raking across your face as he looms over you, something almost possessive about his hand above your head. There’s no mistaking the sudden shift in the air between you.

You’re leaning up onto the balls of your feet without thinking twice.

Your lips brush against his, so softly that the kiss is barely there, but enough to send your heart hammering as you pull back just far enough to check his reaction. Your cheeks are aflame and your lips are tingling, unable to believe what you’ve just done as the silence stretches on and on, as Riddle stares back at you, frozen in place with something you can’t recognise burning in his dark eyes.

The faintest frown appears between Riddle’s brow, and then slowly, very slowly, he’s leaning down towards you. Your breath hitches. His lips meet yours at the exact same moment that he steps in closer, crowding you back against the shelf, soft and warm, kissing you with a smooth, relentless pressure and you’re leaning up into it without even realising what you’re doing, thoughts swirling, heat on your skin, stomach twisting –

Riddle is pulling the book from your hands and carelessly dropping it to the floor, taking you by the waist and lifting you up as he steps in again, pinning you to against the bookshelf without breaking the kiss. Your hands card into the soft waves of his hair and his grip on your waist tightens as you wrap your legs around him. The first touch of his tongue makes you gasp against his lips, and Riddle’s fingers immediately tangle in your hair to pull you harder against him. Riddle’s mouth is moving against yours, hungry and unyielding, and you’re getting dizzy as heat curls in your stomach –

He pulls away very suddenly. You stare at him in surprise, breathing hard. Riddle’s lips are slick and his eyes have gone black, one of his hands still buried in your hair and the other gripping your hip so tightly that you’re sure that you’ll have bruises in the pattern of his fingers tomorrow.

“We are in the middle of the library,” he murmurs against your lips. It takes a lot to resist shivering at the sound of his voice.

“We… could… go somewhere else…” you manage to say, your heart racing so hard that he can surely hear it.

A small smirk builds on his face. “What about your essay?” he says smoothly, so close that your lips start aching to close the scant distance between you –

“I think technically I just had my textbook confiscated by a prefect,” you whisper with a flicker of a smile, “so there’s my alibi.”

Riddle breathes a laugh, and then his lips are on yours once more.

Thanks for asking for a sequel @bluehydrangea-cherry​ and @the-almond-dinger 💖