#'i guess all those games of professor and student really paid off'

[hiddenst0rms]

Sick Stein - Soul Eater

For Christmas and your birthday, @onetrickponi 

I know that we haven’t really spoken much before, but I really hope you enjoy! ❤️

Fandom: Soul Eater

Stein/Marie

1.3k words

Stein loved his job. Not many people got to immerse themselves in their passion all day every day and get paid to do so. It was quite simple, really. He taught expert soul resonance techniques, graded exams, and spent the rest of his time on experiments. Aside from occasionally having to put an unruly student in their place (read: Black Star), the rest of his students were wonderful to watch improve and grow into their fullest potential.

The best part of the job? - the students.

“HH’RFFMSCHHHH!” 

The worst part of his job? - the students. 

He looked up with bleary eyes after burying his face into the sleeve of his lab coat. Ah, oh well. He had tons just like it. Gah. He used to never get sick. He was a fighter, he was strong; he could stitch up even the toughest of battle injuries on himself. That was until he had to spend eight hours a day trapped indoors with grubby gremlins that handed him hand written essays that belonged in a biohazard bin.

But he had gone to medical school, so he was much too knowledgeable to deny the telltale signs of waking up with a headache and scratchy throat yesterday that a few handfuls of aspirin hadn’t cured (who needed a stomach lining anyway). Those soon turned into sneezing, stuffiness, achiness, and as of tonight, a cough. It quickly crept into his voice and speaking all day at work certainly hadn’t done him any favors. By his last lecture, he was struggling to get his voice to carry throughout the classroom. He finally gave in and released class a few minutes early under vague orders to “go practice with your partner.” It was as if he had hit a second puberty.

“Heh’KGSCHh!!” A series of chesty coughs followed. At this rate, he would never finish his grading. He’d been hunched over the neverending stack of ungraded exams for hours and still wasn’t finished. The other professors at the academy wondered why Stein insisted on all open-ended questions instead of multiple choice. Multiple choice would have been a hell of a lot easier to grade, but Stein insisted that open-ended was the only way. Multiple choice was way too easy, a guessing game rather than true reflection of knowledge.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms. It was late, almost one am. Marie had gone to bed a long time ago, leaving him alone at his desk illuminated by the lonely desk lamp. It wasn’t like Stein wasn’t used to late nights. That was the one thing that caught Marie by surprise when she first moved in with Stein. Despite having dated before, she had never realized just how messed up Stein’s sleep habits were. He seldomly went to bed before midnight, opting instead to research on the computer or experiment until he crashed, often at his desk, until work. 

“Stein?”

Great. Another distraction. Her presence wasn’t a surprise. He could sense her wavelength. But that didn’t stop him from giving a dramatic eye roll and a dismissive hand wave. He absolutely despised being interrupted, regardless of what he was doing.

“The place better be burning down right now.” 

“You’re still up?” Marie flipped on the light, not missing the way he winced. 

“You say that like you’re surprised. Ahh, turn the light off. It’s messing with my muse.”

Marie did so, that only confirming her suspicions. He’d come home from work sounding pretty rough and putting an unusual amount of effort into avoiding her. His aloofness was hardly out of character, but the coughing certainly was. “It’s not so much the time that I’m concerned about. It’s your health. You woke me up with your coughing.”

Stein lazily dug through his desk drawer and held out a container, eyes never leaving the paper in front of him. “Here are some earplugs. Now go back to bed and leave me alone. It is late, after all.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You sound awful. Do you have a cold?”

Stein finally lifted his head to acknowledge her. He really wasn’t in the mood for this kind of interrogation. His mood had been low all day due to not feeling well, and he already wasn’t keen on admitting things that ailed him. He sniffled as quietly as he could muster. Now would have been a good time for him to blow his nose, but he couldn’t possibly do that with her standing over his shoulder.

“I prefer the term rhinovirus, but sure. You can call it whatever you want.”

“I don't know what that is - hey! What do you think you’re doing right now?

There was one trick he (literally) had up his sleeve to get someone out of his personal space with the added benefit of relaxation too. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, leading to a horrible coughing fit.

“Oh my God! Yeah, that’s what I mean - gah, you shouldn’t even be smoking right now! Give that to me!”

His glare was every emotion under the sun - annoyed, slightly amused, cocky. As if that would actually work. Her features slumped in defeat. It was worth a try.

“What I mean is,” She said, exasperated. “Is that you sound like you’ve been smoking a pack a day for the last 40 years. So perhaps it’s not in your best interest to smoke right now.”

Stein removed his cigarette, carelessly blowing the smoke around. An offended expression crossed his face. “Mathematically impossible. I’m 31, thank you very much. I certainly can’t sound that bad.”

He sniffled again, this time much thicker. His nose was starting to itch again too, but he wouldn’t have such a display with her standing right there. So he opted to breathe through his mouth, hoping that it would go unnoticed.

“I wasn’t being literal! Just, you’re so impossible sometimes. Go to bed. You’ll work so much more efficiently tomorrow after a good night’s sleep, which I know you don’t get often.”

Her speech was static to his brain. All that Stein could think about was how much he was trying to not make a mess of himself, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore such a blatant need. Another liquid sniffle, which only blossomed the tickle.

“Stein! Are you even listening to me right - “

“Hihhh…. hih’nkxt! h’nxgt! Xngt!” He tried to even out his breathing, but - “Nxgtshyuu! Het’shiuuu! Edtshuuu! Igxtshyuuu!” As much as he didn’t want to, he reached for the tissues, a blush creeping across his cheeks. He refused to turn around, to give Marie any sort of satisfaction. 

“Bless you. That’s why you need to stop working and go to bed, like I was saying.” She said, a hint of amusement in her voice. 

“That won’t be necessary. It’s very minor, a simple fluke in the human genome. Not worth causing a fuss over.”

“You’d really think that they would have figured out the cure to the common cold by now, huh.”

“Cure? Cure!?” Stein whipped around in his stool, newfound fire in his dead eyes. “How can you possibly expect to cure something that’s caused by over 200 viruses? Don’t you think we’ve tried? Well, it’s impossible! I’ll tell you - “

Woah. Now that Marie could actually fully see his face, she saw how pale and tired looked. Not to mention his absurd outburst. Stein always had a way of making everything so scientific. She couldn’t help but wonder - was this the madness taking over or a brewing fever?

Probably the latter.

Marie cut off his rambling with a hand to his forehead.

He stopped. Blinked owlishly. Flinched. Not used to being touched after living alone for so many years.

“You’re warm.”

Figures. 

That was the first time that Marie had touched him since their break up from years ago. If anyone was allowed to overstep boundaries and personal space, it was her. Their split had been amicable enough, but Stein had vowed that nothing more would come from their temporary living situation. But she certainly wasn’t helping right then and there. 

Stein smiled. He could only pretend to be annoyed for so long.

“Fine. I’ll come to bed.”

[tennessoui]

The divorced fic was so cute i want to scream. Does Obi have any time to be sad or are Anakin and his little demons always there to distract him from his infinite sadness

so i know most everyone wants to know what anakin does about The Kiss but here's a bit of light hearted angst a year before that (because humanity is inherently whatever but i am inherently evil)

aka

the immediate aftermath of the Router Incident (1.4k)

The night of the day of what will come to be known as The Router Incident starts off with a bang.

Obi-Wan gets home a bit later than normal. Not because his work drags on longer than usual, but because he is, on the subject of all things even passably related to his personal life, a coward.

It’s been at least ten hours since he left the house with the goddamn wifi router tucked under his arm because Anakin had said something about finding a new place.

As if this isn’t the twenty-first century. As if Anakin doesn’t have a phone with unlimited data. As if Anakin isn’t the sort of person to walk five miles to the nearest coffeeshop with his kids in their stroller, just to use their wifi to email Obi-Wan a series of italicized question marks.

Obi-Wan’s been practicing his apology ever since he got that email. I’m really sorry, I promise I’m not a controlling megalomaniac. I just panicked because I’m not that good at letting go of things. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but apparently I only know how to dig my heels in whenever I think people are starting to pull away. Apologies again, life is not a game of tug-of-war, and I promise I do know that.

He practices his apology, of course, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also try to put it off until the last possible moment. When he leaves the building, his car is the only one still in the lot.

I’m really sorry. Here’s the router back. I support your decision. Your kids will be great. I know you probably won’t let them see me, because that’s a bit weird if we don’t all live together, and you also don’t use social media, which is great because I also don’t use social media, but I would have made a Facebook account just to keep up with your family. It’s meant more than I can say to have something to come home to this past year, and I understand that you can’t put your life on hold for a lonely old man like me, and I will endeavor from now on to not impede your search for a new place to live.

No, too needy, he thinks at a red light, dragging his hand over his beard in defeat. He won’t beg Anakin to stay.

He would very much like to beg Anakin to stay, but he hadn’t even begged Satine to stay, and he had been in love with her.

He just enjoys Anakin’s company. His presence. Unwinding next to Anakin after a difficult day teaching is one of the things he looks forward to the most.

And this past holiday season, they’d had a big dinner at his house, filled to the brim with Anakin’s friends and his friends and some people from the local grocery store they’d met when out shopping together, and it had been so loud and so amazing. Nothing had been left untouched, there had been food on the ceiling (Obi-Wan suspects Leia to this day, but Luke had confessed), there had been leftovers for days.

You can’t just give me holidays like that and then take them away, Obi-Wan thinks angrily as he turns into his neighborhood. What will I do next winter, then?

He has to sit in his car for a second after parking, just to calm down. He’s the one in the wrong, he reminds himself. Anakin has all the right in the world to want to leave. It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

It was never Obi-Wan’s family to begin with.

When he opens the door, he’s met with the sound of children screaming and crying.

Luke rushes at him and jumps on him with enough force that he reels backwards, almost out of the house. He drops his bag on the floor in order to steady the child.

Luke is bawling his head off right next to Obi-Wan’s ear so it’s very, very difficult to hear what a red-faced Anakin is trying to say.

And then Leia runs up to him, tugs at his free hand until he looks down at her, and then stomps her little foot with a scowl. “I hate you!” she declares just as loudly as Luke is crying, before her tiny face breaks into tears and she runs off.

“Oh, for the love of--” Anakin shouts, throwing his hands up in the air and chasing after his daughter.

Obi-Wan, ridiculously hurt beyond measure and without a clue about what’s happening, goes to sit down on the couch, still gently cradling Luke’s body to his as the boy continues to weep.

“Hush,” he says soothingly. “And, ah. Please tell me what’s gotten into the Skywalkers now.”

Luke only sniffles and rubs his snotty nose all over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Well. It’s laundry day tomorrow anyway.

“Daddy says you hate us,” Luke mumbles, just as Anakin comes back into the living room, notably sans Leia.

Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open in shock. “Daddy says what?” he asks, very slowly, making dangerous eye contact with Anakin over the top of Luke’s blond head.

Anakin flushes an even darker shade of red and looks around the room, as if that’ll save him.

“Daddy says we gotta go because this is your house and we don’t wanna stay over our, um. Welcome. We can’t reproach on your space, which means you hate us.”

“Encroach,” Anakin corrects, which Obi-Wan does not think is the thing that really needs to be corrected. When he tries to communicate this with his eyes, Anakin gulps and says quite quickly, “I’m gonna go check on Leia actually.”

Coward.

“Luke,” Obi-Wan says gently. “Your daddy is just being very, very dumb, a trait I pray with all my heart skips a generation.”

Luke blinks at him, his little eyebrows furrowed and his button nose bright red from all of his crying.

“I don’t hate you at all,” Obi-Wan says. “I love both you and your sister very much.”

“Then why do we gotta leave?” Luke complains. “I don’t want to go, we could never play Space Pirates and Lava Dragons at the old place, it was way too small.”

Obi-Wan thinks privately that his house, while certainly big enough, is by no means the proper size for how rambunctious the twins get when they’re playing Space Pirates and Lava Dragons.

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums consideringly. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“You don’t?” Luke asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I really don’t. But it’s not my decision to make, Luke.”

“It’s Daddy’s,” Luke concludes, head hanging low. “And Daddy wants to go.”

Obi-Wan ignores the way that sentence drives what feels like a knife straight through his heart. “Yes, well,” he coughs. “Your daddy won’t do anything he knows you and your sister really don’t want.”

Luke looks contemplative. Obi-Wan wonders if he should feel really bad or downright awful for manipulating a child in this way. But needs must.

“And he won’t listen to me,” he continues gently, smoothing down the front ends of the boy’s soft hair. “Because your daddy can be very stubborn when he thinks he’s doing something right.”

“He’ll listen to me and Leia though?” Luke asks, head cocked and eyes bright.

Obi-Wan nods very seriously. “I think he would if you both asked very nicely and thought about a lot of good reasons why you should stay here.”

“I can think of loads! And Leia can think of a ton more probably!” Luke exclaims with renewed energy, launching himself off of Obi-Wan’s lap and up the stairs, ostensibly to their shared bedroom.

Obi-Wan leans back against the couch, equal parts amused, exhausted, and hurt. He’ll need to have a serious talk with Anakin soon. He’d thought the man knew that his home was his as well. Yes, Anakin still paid rent, an unfortunate but necessary sort of system, but they’ve never been normal roommates. And Anakin isn’t a guest who could overstay his welcome.

He’s. Well.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know exactly what Anakin is to him, but he had hoped it was obvious to Anakin at least that Obi-Wan would not ever grow tired of his presence in his life.

So they do have some things to talk about.

But hopefully this means that Obi-Wan won’t actually have to apologize for the router incident, seeing as Anakin’s fuck-up caused much larger waves.

[dulce-pjm]

caffeine crush

word count: 4.3k 

genre: fluff, coffee shop!au

summary: all it took was one trip to the cafe to cement a friendship you never wanted. but it’s high time you fess up and call it all off. 

Yes, you’d picked up the habit last August, you’re certain. 

Classes had yet to start but, growing tired of your overbearing family, you decided to head back to campus a week or two early and get a head start while the university was still mostly empty. 

You didn’t exactly get a ton of work done, but those few weeks were relaxing. Cleansing, even. You spent your mornings wandering around campus and the surrounding area, soaking in the summer sun. Your afternoons were spent curled up in a comfy chair in the corner of the library, nose deep in a romance novel. You found yourself eating better, exploring the city and finding new activities and niche locations. At this point, you thought you would make an excellent tour guide if someone hired you. You knew nearly every corner of the blocks surrounding the university. You’d made it a game to leave no stone unturned, memorizing the storefronts and seeing what hole-in-the-wall restaurants and shops you would find next. 

You were playing just this game when you met Seokjin.

It’s not like you particularly liked coffee. It’s always been much too bitter for your taste. No amount of sugar or cream or pumpkin syrup made the drink worth it to you. 

But you set your personal preferences aside for the mission. How could you give coffee shop recommendations to your imaginary tour group if you’d never tried them out yourself?

And it was with that mentality that you tentatively stepped inside the near-hidden cafe, door chiming as you made your entrance. 

The minute you walked in, you fell in love with the atmosphere. The place was well ventilated and cool, perfect for someone like you who preferred to keep the thermostat at ‘obscenely low temperatures,’ as your sister would say. The walls were coated with muted mints and greens. Draping plants decorated the wooden shelves scattered across the far wall and the soft jazz playing over the speakers made you feel relaxed. A large chalkboard menu hung behind the counter, fresh flowers sat by the cash register. The smell of coffee grounds was undeniably comforting and potent, despite your general dislike for the drink. 

This place was perfect. You could imagine your friends applauding your efforts now, praising you for managing to stumble on such an amazing hideout, tucked away from the chaos of university campus yet still within easy walking distance. 

The cafe was almost completely empty, save for a couple about your age camped out at a corner table. You barely paid them any attention except to be jealous of their closeness as they giggled over something on the girl’s phone. 

You approached the counter, curiously vacant of any employees. You looked left, you looked right. But no one appeared. 

The couple, too absorbed in their own world, did nothing to aid you as you stood helpless in the middle of the abandoned store. You gave it a good ten seconds before you felt much too awkward standing here all alone and gave up, turning to leave. 

And just as you did, you heard a collection of scuffles coming from the back and a door swing open with a creak. 

“Oh, I am so sorry. One of our frothers broke and made a huge mess.” You spun around. And your jaw dropped. 

Before you stood the most godly man you’d ever seen. 

The first thing that caught your eye was tufts of soft lavender hair, shining under the cool vintage lights. His eyes were wide and dark and warm, making you shift on your feet when they focused on you. His shoulders were broad and wrapped in a thin, cream turtleneck despite the warm weather. You practically drooled when you caught sight of his lips, full and soft pink.

He looked just like every male romantic lead you’d read about in your spare time. A purple-haired prince charming. A knight in his shining, corporate-regulated apron. 

“Were you waiting long?” His friendly voice snapped you from your daze before your thoughts could roam further to his muscles and chest and-

“No, not at all.” Could he tell you’d just been ogling? You really hoped not. 

“Good, good.” He shoots you a relieved smile that has your knees shaking. “Well, what can I get for you?” 

Shit, he was pretty. The slope of his nose and jaw and the swell of his cheekbones looked like they’d been crafted by god himself. Not that you were particularly religious, but after this encounter, you mused that maybe one day you could be. 

You were already fantasizing about the future the two of you could forge together. Stolen kisses, cuddles by the tv, a cozy house full of little purple-haired kids. His pillowy soft lips looked awfully inviting. You wondered what it’d be like to lean onto the tips of your toes and press your lips on his, to run your fingers through his hair, to-

“Uh, is there something I can get for you?” 

Shit. You’d been caught red-handed. 

“Oh! Um... uh...” You couldn’t focus. The words on the menu were suddenly too blurry as your tunnel vision zoomed in on him and only him. “A latte! A latte is fine.”

Seokjin smiled sweetly, making your stomach flutter. 

“You got it! Just a sec.” He spun away, running back and forth between the different contraptions that look more like convoluted machines from a sci-fi movie than coffee-related appliances. 

You were still trying to collect yourself when his hand brushed yours as he passed your drink across the counter. A shiver ran unwelcomed down your spine. You barely managed to fork over a few bills when the man shook his head adamantly.

“I made you wait. This one’s on the house.”

God, he was hot and nice? How?

“Oh, thanks...” Your eyes found the small name tag pinned to his blue apron. “Seokjin.” He grinned, his eyes crinkling adorably. 

“Not a problem. See you around.” He said it like the two of you were friends and not strangers. Like he was going to miss you when you walked out the door. 

You felt his gaze on your back as you left the tiny shop, bells chiming as went. 

You knew you’d be coming back. 

And come back you did. 

You’d reasoned that it wasn’t because of Seokjin, no, of course not! You liked the cafe, it was quiet and there was plenty of room to study. 

Oh, who were you kidding? It was totally because of Seokjin. The cafe was nice, you guess, but you don’t even like coffee! Rather, you used your time spent in the shop half actually doing your work and half staring at Seokjin and letting your mind wander. It was a stress reliever, really. A guilty pleasure, to bask in his glory. 

It was a harmless habit. You got your work done and got to stare at an angel sent from heaven, and Seokjin had extra business bolstering his paycheck when you dragged your friends with you to camp out at the cafe. 

It was harmless. 

Until you’d spent the better part of four months somewhat stalking him and now he knew your face. 

So when a certain someone tapped you on the shoulder in January as you settled down for the first day of class, you really should have known this would happen. 

“Hi!” he’d exclaimed, taking the seat next to you before you could protest, not that you wanted to. “I didn’t know you were a student here.” 

It was Seokjin. Hot barista from the coffee shop, Seokjin. In your class. Talking directly to you. Except now, he’d traded his purple locks for warm brunette ones. It didn’t take away from his appeal at all though. It made him seem boyish and younger, suiting him well. 

“Oh, hi...” You were at a loss for words. Never in your life did you think that Seokjin attended your university, let alone would be taking the same classes as you. Wouldn’t you have seen him by now? How did this slip under your radar?

“Y/N, right?” His smile widened when you nodded, confirming his suspicions. 

The professor walked in a moment later, informing you all that the person next to you would be your partner for all projects for the rest of the semester. Your stomach dropped to the floor

And from then on, Seokjin was your friend. 

You’d done your best to fight it, to resist him but you were only pulled deeper and deeper. 

Before then, the line of acquaintanceship was defined, set in stone. You knew his name, sure, but only because of the context of the situation. You had no reason to talk to him, to know him. And he had no reason to remember you. 

But once he confirmed your name, claimed the seat next to you, expressed excitement at being your partner (because he’d seen how studious you were at the shop, he said- and what a lie that was), the line had been crossed and blurred. He made a point to smile at you every time you arrived to class, to ask you how your day was going and if you were planning on stopping by the cafe any time soon.

It didn’t take long, however, for fantasy Seokjin to crumble before your eyes. Your dashing prince charming turned out to actually be a gluttonous man-child. Long gone were the days of your innocent crush on him. No longer could you sit and daydream about his perfect self when you were watching him pig out on take-out dumplings and listening to the most cringe-worthy jokes you’d heard in your life. 

“So I was at this vegetarian restaurant, right?” You nodded, only half paying attention as you made final edits to your presentation on Nordic traditions. “And this girl comes up to me and starts to tell me how I’d done her so wrong and she was finally standing up for herself.” 

At that point you were interested, allowing yourself to watch his dramatics rather than your laptop screen. Was Seokjin secretly an asshole? A heart breaker? God, this couldn’t be farther from how you’d imagined him months ago. 

“But the thing is-” He paused, meeting your eyes to make sure you were fully paying attention, which you were. “I’d never even seen herbivore!”

A fully offended sound left your throat as Seokjin burst into squeaky, boisterous laughter at the disgusted expression on your face. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to fake laugh. That joke was absolutely dreadful. 

See, this is normally when relationships- dating and friendship alike- started to go downhill for you. You were much too idealistic. You set certain expectations for anyone and everyone before you ever laid eyes on them. And when they didn’t meet those expectations, it was easy for you to lose interest. Once you realized that they weren’t the person you’d hoped they’d be, you realized you’d never really liked them at all. You’d just gotten too caught up in your head, too captivated by your own imagination to recognize that you were walking into something you didn’t want.  

Seokjin, though, was different. He’d been drastically far from your expectations, absolutely. But instead of that eventual feeling of self-directed bitterness and regret for setting yourself up for failure, you felt guilty. Overwhelmed with guilt and shame, actually. Even if he had an awful sense of humor, Seokjin was great. He was kind and charming and teasing and thoughtful and earnest. He was genuine. 

Yes, if there was one word to describe Seokjin, it was genuine. But if you had to add a few more words, they would be ‘too fucking nice.’

When you were about to be keeled over in the school’s bathroom, puking your brains out with the flu, it was Seokjin that had noticed you were feeling off and chased you down after class. He’d been the one to see how sick you were, to hold your hair while you were bent over the toilet, to take you to the doctor and bring you homemade soup for dinner. 

While you panicked about the project due in the next few days, Seokjin adamantly insisted that you rest and promised that he could take care of it for you. He was unwavering in his resolve and despite the guilt brewing in your stomach alongside the nausea, you almost let yourself think he was doing this just because he wanted to, not because it was his personality. 

You didn’t deserve him. Not his friendship, not his love, not his time. He’s out of your league. Hell, he’s playing a different sport entirely. What you were doing wasn’t fair. This friendship didn’t happen because you were genuinely nice like Seokjin. It happened because you were lonely and, frankly, thirsty.

So, while you’re taking your final exam for your class with Jin, you reach the conclusion that it’s time to fess up. To admit who you really are, what your motives were, the reason you kept coming back for coffee you didn’t like. And then you’d cut it off. Not that you think you’d have to. Seokjin would see just how crazy you were and then never speak to you again. Things would be right with the universe and you’d be guilt-free, if a little embarrassed. 

Your pencil hovers over the scantron and you consider that you probably should have spent all this time focusing on the exam and not your friendship’s impending doom. 

But this class had been nothing short of an easy A, so you decide to have a little faith in yourself that even you could choose the correct answers while your mind wandered elsewhere. 

Yes, this was the best option. It’s not like you were in love with Seokjin, missing his presence and smile the minute he walked out the door and admiring the way his laugh lit up a room. Seokjin wasn’t some unreachable fantasy. You wouldn’t be retreating to your room sobbing if he was suddenly gone. He was just a person. He was just Seokjin. You could let him go. He could realize what you really were.

Easy peasy. Right? 

When you shoulder your bag and trudge out of the exam room, Seokjin is waiting for you, despite finishing a few minutes earlier. He was much too nice to other people like that. He hasn’t quite noticed you yet, too absorbed in a conversation with a fellow classmate. You indulge in his objectively perfect features for what will likely be the last time, but you don’t let your imagination wander. You just take the moment to appreciate what is in front of you. 

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m pretty tired...” You note the awkward, apologetic smile on his face and wonder what they’d been talking about. In that moment, his eyes flicker to yours, immediately lighting up. “Oh, Y/N!” He shifts towards you, leaving the poor girl to flounder. While he smiles enthusiastically your way, your expression is almost completely neutral. The abandoned classmate looks back and forth between the two of you, trying to decipher your relationship. You sigh, internally scolding him for wasting his attention on you. 

“Hey, Jin.” You address him by the nickname you’ve heard his friends call him. He’d never explicitly told you to call him that, but when it accidentally slipped out one day, he smiled to himself and you added the name to your vocabulary.

“Well, how do you feel? It’s over!” You shrug, shifting the backpack you always carry to the other shoulder. 

“Not as good as you do, I’m sure.” Seokjin’s brows furrow curiously and cutely, not understanding where you’re going. “You’re graduating? I’m still stuck here another year.”

“Ahh, at least the semester’s over. You are coming to my graduation, right?” You shoot him a look saying something akin to, ‘are you stupid?’

“Of course I am. You’d never let me live it down if I didn’t.” Seokjin laughs but doesn’t argue. You realize the classmate from before is long gone. You’re not sure when she left. Good, now you can tell Seokjin what you’ve been meaning to. “Can I talk to you?”

“Aren’t we talking now?” You sigh, loosely crossing your arms. 

“You know what I mean, Seokjin.” Sensing your serious demeanor, Seokjin immediately drops his teasing smile, switching his expression to one laced with concern. 

“Yes, of course. My shift starts in half an hour, though. Can we talk on the way to the shop?” 

“Sure.” Perfect, actually. Walking side by side, you wouldn’t have to watch that soft smile turn into an expression of disgust when you admitted what you were about to. 

As the two of you walk across campus and into the city, you tell him everything. You tell him how the minute you saw him, you’d thought he was the hottest person you’d ever laid eyes upon. You tell him how you came back almost thrice a week just to stare and think about him. You tell him how you don’t even like coffee, but your frequent visits to the shop have made you dependent on caffeine. You tell him how you’d had a bit of a crush on him, no, on your fantasy version of him for months. You tell him you don’t feel like that now, that you just feel guilty that this friendship existed when it was all born from a lie, from a terrible habit you couldn’t seem to break. You tell him how fake you are.

“And you deserve better than that, than me. I’m sorry I dragged you along for so long. I shouldn’t have.” You haven’t looked at him once this whole time, too ashamed to clue yourself in to what he’s thinking. “I think that’s everything.” Seokjin stays silent for a few agonizing minutes as the scenery morphs from tall, brick lecture buildings and trees into a more urban environment filled with bustling streets and colorful displays in the store windows. 

“Can I ask a question?” You jump at his voice. You’re almost surprised he’s still here. 

“Yeah.” You nervously fidget with your backpack straps, still refusing to even glance his way. 

“When you actually got to know me better, were you disappointed?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded nervous. Heat rises to your cheeks. Shit, you’d hurt his feelings, hadn’t you? Why couldn’t he just get mad or storm off to leave you in the dust? Did he think that you hated him? That you were tired of him and that’s why you were doing this? You had to make him understand. You are the problem, not him. God, why was this idiot so nice?

“What? No!” You’re frantic with worry. Maybe you were being too egotistical to think that your confession had hurt his self-image, but you were willing to take the risk. “You’re great, Seokjin. You’re sweet and thoughtful and funny- well, actually your humor could use some work -and perfect. You’re a great friend. It’s me who’s disappointing. You’ve never disappointed me, not once.”

If you could just tear your eyes from the sidewalk, you’d see that Seokjin was grinning from ear to ear, over-the-moon ecstatic your compliments. Neither of you has ever been great with words, so you hope your pep talk was enough and that his silence is a good sign. 

The skies have begun shifting away from bright and sunny to grey and cloudy. The air is thick and heavy, like it’s about to rain. Just your luck. You should have checked the weather channel this morning. 

“We have caffeinated drinks other than coffee on the menu, you know.” 

Really? You’d just confessed your most embarrassing secret and that’s all he had to say? You stumble over your words, not sure whether to be flustered (because you definitely didn’t know that) or frustrated at his unwavering good nature. 

“Oh.” You grow sheepish and pretend to find the dirt under your fingernails interesting. “I guess I had a hard time focusing back then.” Those days had long faded away. You didn’t crumble under his gaze anymore or struggle to form coherent sentences around him. He’d long lost his mystery. 

Then, Seokjin laughs. He laughs and he chuckles and giggles and you cringe. You want to crawl into a hole and never come back out. When other times you could find humor in the rambunctious sounds spilling from his lips, now it only felt jarring, like a smack in the face. He was laughing at you, at how much of a hopeless idiot you are. You suppose that was better than him feeling betrayed and never wanting to see you again. Though he hasn’t exactly ruled out the latter. 

This is what you wanted, this is what you wanted. 

You say nothing, consumed by your own bitterness, as Seokjin calms down. 

“You’re pretty stupid, Y/N.” Your face falls. 

You knew that. He didn’t have to tell you. 

You were stupid to keep showing up at the coffee shop like a lovestruck teenager. You were stupid to believe Seokjin was your friend or that he might have even enjoyed your presence. He was just too goddamn nice and you were too goddamn stupid.

As the two of you get within a few blocks of the cafe, Seokjin’s hand brushes against yours. 

“Oh, sorry.” You’re quick to yank it away, almost burned by his touch, but to your surprise, Seokjin chases after it, fastening his palm against yours and intertwining your fingers. 

What was he doing?

“What are you doing?” For the first time since you started your rambling, you look at Seokjin, gape at him. But the timing is poor and now he’s staring straight ahead, not giving you a passing glance. 

“Do you really think I would have given you free drinks and sat next to you in class and talked to you every day if I didn’t at least like you a little bit?” You’re rendered speechless, eyes bugging out of your head.  

“I- um...”

“For being an accounting major, you really are the densest person I know.” His tone is light despite his blatant insults. “Don’t you realize I had a little crush on you, too? I was so excited when I realized we were going to share a class, but you never gave me the time of day.”

Your mouth opens and closes but no words leave it, not unlike a fish. 

“I've nearly asked you out at least three times now, but I kept chickening out.” 

The entire world feels like it’s flipped upside down. It’s like gravity’s stopped working and your head is spinning and you’re dizzy and your heart as burst and Seokjin’s hand enveloping yours is the only thing keeping you from floating away into the sky. 

The revelation smacks you in the face. 

Seokjin’s a liar. Not as genuine as you’d thought, after all. 

While you spent a semester pretending you liked coffee when really you just thought Seokjin was hot, he’d spent the next pretending he was only interested in your friendship when he’d been harboring a crush on you. 

You struggle to contain the small smile on your face. Seokjin’s hand gently squeezes yours and lightning shoots up your skin and spine. 

Seokjin’s eyes finally meet yours as the two of you stare sheepishly at each other. His gaze flickers to your lips a few times and you openly ogle at his, but he doesn’t lean in. He simply lifts your entwined hands and smiles, a short breath leaving his nostrils in place of a chuckle. It’s content and peaceful. There’s no need for love declarations or romantic kisses. You think you could be happy here forever knowing Seokjin wants you by his side. 

The moment ends when a raindrop hits your nose, startling the hell out of you. 

While you’re disoriented, Seokjin laughs and tugs you into the shop, now only a few steps away. The place is rather busy for it being lunchtime, but Seokjin weaves the two of you through the throng, stopping by the staff door. 

He looks at you with slight mischief. 

“You know, since it’s raining, you should probably just stay in here. Don’t wanna catch a cold.” You want to scoff, tell him that’s ridiculous and that your dorm is only a few minutes away. But you swallow your retort and let him have his moment. 

“Good idea,” you agree solemnly with a nod. 

“Actually, you should probably just stay until I’m off my shift. You never know when the rain might pick up again.” This time, you can’t help but quirk a brow. 

“Because you’re planning to protect me from the rain? You don’t have a jacket either.” Seokjin gives an offended look, like you’d just insulted his pride. 

“No, it’s so we can get sick together. It’d be romantic.” You scrunch your nose. Having fevers and runny noses and gross coughs together? Doesn’t seem like an ideal first date. 

“Sounds romantic.”

“I’m glad you agree.” 

You’re staring at each other again, in your own little bubble, until a customer brushes against your shoulder and you’re reminded that Seokjin is technically on payroll right now. He has a similar realization and reluctantly releases your hand, blowing a kiss over his shoulder as he steps through the staff door. You roll your eyes, feigning embarrassment, but on the inside, you’re melting. 

You plop down in your self-assigned seat in the most well-ventilated part of the cafe that also has a very convenient view of your favorite barista. The semester’s over and you have no work to do, but you don’t mind, content to watch Seokjin work while mindlessly giggling when he shoots you winks in between orders. 

You don’t fantasize or wonder where this might go. You don’t think your imagination could come up with anything better than what’s in front of you. 

You do predict, however, that you’ll be spending many more hours cooped up in this little cafe. 

Old habits die hard, you suppose. 

[wondersbeyondcompare]

More Majid Stuff

I post once in a blue moon b/c I work in random bursts and get tired easily, but here are some rambles about Majid that I’ve saved in my Notes app and probably haven’t mentioned before!

There are some rumors circulating around Majid regarding his wealth

More specifically: how he got his wealth

All these rumors range from him being a secret son of a noble family to taking shady underground jobs that paid ridiculously well

His name had been searched up more than once, but the only thing that pops up is a bakery business w/ a small branch located in the Land of Hot Sands... not too far from where Majid grew up...

Majid’s a quick learner; he just lacks the motivation lol 

Tends to overthink too often, tho, coming up with detailed plans to get out of doing the most mundane stuff

Funny to watch but a pain in the ass to comprehend 😔

Although Majid tries to get out of doing most stuff, there are some things he can’t let slide

He can get picky over how some tasks are done; honestly??? this might be a good tactic on getting him to work (“Hey, Majid. Can you help set up the decorations for tonight’s party?” “No.” “Aaaa, okay, guess we’ll just have Mark do it-“ “Mark? You want to leave decorating to him? Do you want the lounge looking like a highlighter projectile vomited over the walls and ceiling? Give me those streamers. I’ll do it myself-“)

Definitely a quality over quantity kind of person; his room may be a mess of different things, but, rest assured, it’s only the best of the best of stuff that stay for long like lava lamps

I want to say that Majid is picky about a lot of things in general, but he does have his exceptions; for example: food, napping locations, job opportunities, ummm (･_･;) That’s most of what I can think of right now, dang

This pickiness is kiiind of 👉👈 referencing a trait that the Cave of Wonders has; like the whole “only a diamond in the rough shall enter here“ business that was going on idk I’m trying my best

As you can see, I went ham when it came to the “Who disturbs my slumber” line the tiger head had lol 😅(sorry that had become your defining trait, m’boi)

And the mass of riches he’s accumulated over the years was another obvious reference to the inside of the cave as well; can also act as a loose metaphor of what’s stopping him from getting the help he needs; as the treasures in the cave were put there w/ the intent of distracting a person from the ultimate goal of the magic lamp, so does his own treasures serve as a temporary distraction from moving forward in his life

But if that’s too much of a stretch, then plz slap the inner English teacher in me and then myself

Majid’s good at looking through people’s facades and judging a person’s true character, but it’s not like he does much w/ this info

Unless they try confronting him or something, he just avoids/shuts down people he gets bad vibes from

Doesn’t make tactless comments; figured out that dealing with pissed off people was more work than it’s worth

Boi tends to ask a lot of questions when speaking to other people; partly b/c of trust issues; partly b/c he might be lowkey judging you (can’t use his unique magic all the time after all :/)

He’s the type of person who acts like he knows everything, but he really doesn’t; just hates getting looked down upon in general; will bluff his way through situations by being as vague as possible

He leans towards how his mother used to speak; that is: beating around the bush

He won’t lie to you, but it might take some time until he’ll give you the whole truth; and when I say it’ll take some time, IT REALLY WILL TAKE SOME TIME B/C THIS BOY IS UNBELIEVABLY STUBBORN 

Is casual to whoever he speaks to, no matter the age; if he gets extremely annoyed with someone, especially if they’re older than him, he’ll use this over exaggerated polite tone that makes it real obvious he’s fed up with them

Gets ticked off whenever anyone advises him to do anything, but he’ll still take that advice to heart

Majid’s probably tired all the time b/c of all the jewelry he’s carrying around smh

Majid sounds/looks like he’s angry all the time, but that’s just his resting face 😔; I mean, he’s always a little irritated, but it’s mostly b/c he’s stuck in that state of being forced awake from a deep afternoon nap (b/c... that’s usually what happens to him)

Plus, have you met his upperclassmen? Have you seen what was going on in Scarabia during Chapter 4?????? Have you met the headmaster of this school????????  (; ω ; )

He doesn’t like people touching stuff that’s his; same thing goes for people touching stuff in general that aren’t theirs; doesn’t like thieves (he’s stolen stuff when he was younger, but he justifies that he only did so to survive; and he’s not entirely wrong)

Ironic b/c his mom was a thief 🤭 

He’s also a pretty obedient student save for the whole “trying to sleep in class w/o getting caught” thing that he’s still trying to accomplish; doesn’t like it when the professors get strict with him but will grit his teeth and bear with it

Prefers magic carpets to magic broomsticks; there’s just a lot more surface area when it comes to carpets plus he’s more familiar with the former

Spends a lot of his time in the Scarabia storage room b/c it reminds him of his bedroom back home; probably became buddies w/ Kalim’s magic carpet while he was there too

But if we’re talking about the type of people Majid could tolerate befriending uummm... maybe those with good hearts?? Idk, like those who are genuinely trying to be a good person no matter what kind of obstacles they run into (referencing how the cave of wonders only let a diamond in the rough enter)

They don’t have to be all nice or sweet, but as long as Majid can tell they have kind intentions, he won’t immediately leave them

Has a “haaah... these guys are hopeless... might as well keep an eye on them so they don’t screw up any more than they already have” attitude towards these people

Other type of person Majid would unintentionally befriend are those who are also annoyed of being told what to do by upperclassmen/authority figures; ☺️🙏  vent out your frustrations together wooo

Has some squabbles with Leona when it comes to napping locations

It’s actually pretty funny to watch b/c they both don’t want to give up their spot but also they don’t want to bother getting up 

Leona wins most of the time, tho

Majid may have had a lot of energy when he was younger but now he’s a g e d

I rarely mention Majid’s lava illusion magic thing, but yeah that’s a thing; he probably won’t be able to use it to its full extent until his last year of high school and maybe a little bit later; it takes up a ton of energy; I keep on imagining him using it and joking that “aaaa the floor is lava lol”, but then I remember the psychological effects this ability has on the victim and 😬 yikes scratch that

Majid has a loud clear voice when he speaks; often startles whoever’s walking by when he naps in the shadows

 As a result of spending most of his time w/o a stable support system and no one static to guide his beliefs, Majid doesn’t follow any particular religion; he does have coworkers back at the curio/appraisal/pawn shop who do, tho, and while he doesn’t entirely understand it, he respects them as much as he can

I’ve said before that Majid selfishly keeps all his wealth to himself for fear of losing his self worth, but there are some exceptions (such as to anyone he passes who’s begging in the streets, a coworker who’s struggling to make ends meet, etc.)

He’s fine with giving away some money, but not in huge amounts 

 And if he’s giving money to anyone, it’s done in a round about way; usually w/ a dismissive excuse 

If this boi had a route, depending on how the MC acts around him, the majority of it will be spent breaking down those walls and befriending him; generally going like this: shovel all trust issues into incinerator one by one —>Get him to tolerate you —> Get him to trust you —> Befriend (?) Him —> Deal w/ his other deep seated issues —-> Romance (if we’re going for that otome game kinda thing i guess???))

I can just imagine Majid temporarily visiting the Land of Hot Sands w/ MC after befriending him and finding out the truth about his parents through his boss at the curio shop; MC encourages him to travel north to pay a visit at some facility b/c it’s rumored that at least his father is still alive 

(No idea what happened to Lara; probably suffered worse consequences due to making several prison breaks; had decently powerful magical abilities, so that would probably explain the whole forced amnesia thing that happened after their disappearance) 

Majid is torn b/w wanting to go alone b/c this is a personal matter (And he wants MC to be safe) and being scared of losing MC if something horrible happens to him on his journey north; he knows what it’s like to be suddenly abandoned, and he doesn’t want that for anybody, especially for someone he cares about 

He doesn’t want to repeat his father’s mistakes, regardless if it was accidental or not 

Majid decides to go on his own; probably had some touching parting w/ MC; maybe we’ll go full otome and have a hugging CG where he swears that he will be back for MC

And MC is just like “Aight;;; cool;;; good luck;;”; something sentimental like that 

Couple of days passed; we’re worried about him 

He returns with a worried look on his face before breaking into a relieved smile when he sees MC; power walks to hug them even tighter than before

Majid thanks them for all they’ve done; he then spends the rest of the day and well into the night describing all he’s experienced and his visit with his dad

 They go back to NRC and Majid is less bratty than before, much to the surprise of Jamil and to the delight of Kalim; actually starts to make an effort to not push people away at every opportunity (b/c he originally felt like they all had their own hidden agenda and were just using him for their own gain, y’know)

Boi becomes even more clingy towards MC; by that, I don’t mean he’s overly attached to them (he’s afraid of making the same mistake he did in the past), but rather he shows it through light casual touches here and there (a brush of the fingers when exchanging papers, patting MC’s head when they do something well, gently tugging at their sleeve when he needs their attention) and constantly checking up on them to see how they’re doing

Awkward levels in Majid increase as he constantly wonders if he’s crossing a line when it comes to him showing any kind of affection; he doesn’t want to come off as creepy and make MC hate him

Might also resist being given love and affection at first; but once he gets used to it, he absolutely m e l t s

Cuddles are ����; might give teary eyes if MC tries to leave early during a cuddling session, but he won’t pressure them to stay; a touch starved boi

Doesn’t think much of PDA, giving or receiving; full on making out and anything further is kind of a no-go, tho;  hugging is nice and so are short and sweet kisses; will glare at anybody who says anything about it

If his s/o was clingier than he is, he might get a little embarrassed; same thing goes if his s/o was really cute

Definitely the type of boyfriend to buy random gifts for his s/o b/c these things reminded him of them

Younger Majid was in full on puppy mode all the time, or at least when he was around people he liked; also a huge people pleaser too, since he was afraid of them leaving him 

He was probably reckless too in order to entertain his friends

Was really polite, especially when it came to adults; always calling them Mister and Miss(us)

He was also just loud 

Future Majid (if he came to terms with most of his problems) would be more mellow than his teenage self; still anti-social but he’s less angry at the world now; would go on to own the curio shop after the previous owner passed on; reverted it into both a jewelry/appraisal shop in order to honor his father plus respect the previous owner’s memory as well

Sells and repairs jewelry and appraises supposedly rare items that come through his store; still does odd jobs for the people in the neighborhood but his prices aren’t as outrageously high as he made them when he was younger

He names the new store after his mother, at the request of his father (plus I only recently heard the song “House of Gold” by Twenty One Pilots and hnnnmmg it fits well with this golden boy)

Majid is interested in most things related to jewelry, probably subconsciously influenced by his father; this includes repairing bits of jewelry; he moves delicately when it comes to these kinds of tasks

He’s a night owl; it’s much quieter at night

Has bad posture from sleeping in different weird places

His body is prone to heating up easily; the fact that he lives in the Land of Hot Sands and was also sorted into Scarabia is just unfortunate luck

Sneaks off to cooler areas on campus in his free time to chill; one of his favorite spots is the Octavinelle lounge since it’s air conditioned and dark, and he can get away with taking a nap before going over his time limit and getting kicked out

The library is nice too (´∀｀)

Would like to go to Ignihyde too, but he’s put off by the feeling of being underground (gotta have that bit of irony like Jamil being afraid of bugs 👌)

He tolerates Kalim better than Jamil; probably b/c the latter scolds him for slacking off

Actually went to Kalim for tutoring advice once before realizing part of the way that his senior had no idea what he was doing; Jamil has earned his respect when it comes to academics

Kinda jealous of the duo’s stamina; Majid’s usually heaving for air after long marches or if he’s ever chosen as a backup dancer for one of Scarabia’s many parties; he’s the ( ・∇・) least athletic of my OCs...

No, he can’t dance, but he can feign the movements well enough to not get caught

[maevescene]

Not Like the Others, pt. III

Fred Weasley x Slytherin Reader

A/N: Super sorry again if timelines and what not don’t match up, this is all just for fun and I hope you going have enjoyed this story! Thank you all for taking time out of your day to read them, it means so much to me. 

Warnings: None that I can think of, fluff maybe?

Summary: You’re in Slytherin, and on the quidditch team. You have developed a crush on Fred Weasley over the past few months, and are trying to uncover if he feels the same about you.

Word Count; 1,680

pt.1 | pt. 2

____________

Once again, you caught yourself in the stands of the quidditch stadium with Angelina’s scarf around your neck. You stood amongst other Gryffindor fifth years, hoping to blend in and not be spotted by other Slytherin students. How much longer could the library excuse hold up?

It was a close match, but there was still no sight of the snitch for either teams. 

“Has he done it yet?” you caught someone behind you a few seats over saying as Harry Potter whooshed over the crowd.

“No, I don’t think so,” someone else replied. “He said he’d ask her if they won this game.” 

“That’s a bit of a gamble,” the first voice stated. “I mean, she is in Slytherin, so I guess it’s a gamble either way.”

You froze in place. 

What did he just say? 

The other voice laughed. “Nah, she’s a pretty cool Slytherin. She should be around here somewhere, actually. I saw her walking with Ruby earlier.” 

You sunk lower into your seat, burying your face into the scarf to conceal your identity. 

What did that mean? 

You were sure they were talking about you. Which other Slytherin would be sitting with the Gryffindors during a quidditch match, and speaking with Ruby? It was too specific to not overthink. 

“That’s another goal for Ravenclaw. Gryffindor are not far behind, but they need to get their skates on if they want to win. Oh wait! Was that the snitch?”

In a way, you were glad Gryffindor weren’t winning - a little part of you was curious as to what those boys were talking about, but, if they were talking about you, it made you nervous to find out what exactly they were talking about, and who this ‘he’ was.

Next to you, Ruby was pointing at the players in the sky and cheering with you as Katie Bell intercepted the quaffle between two Ravenclaw chasers. She sped towards the goals and scored another ten points for Gryffindor, which sent everyone around you into a roar of excitement.

Ruby handed you her opera glasses after she was obviously taking a rather long look at some of the Ravenclaw boys in the opposite stands. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, but when you caught sight of Fred, a flurry of butterflies started to swirl around your stomach. He looked so handsome in those quidditch robes…

Just as you began to overthink the conversation between the people behind you, a burgundy streak descended from the sky and dismounted from their broom onto the Quidditch pitch. In their fingers was something shiny, and they held it above their head in triumph.

Harry Potter had caught the snitch. 

The noise level around you went from a tolerable chatter to explosive chants and screams. The people in front of you started storming forward, spilling out onto the pitch. Ruby grabbed your hand and you clambered over the seats in front of you. 

The other players landed around Harry and lifted him onto their shoulders. You and Ruby hung back as they paraded him around the crowd. 

“They’re insane,” you comment. Ruby giggles. 

“That’s Gryffindor for you. I thought you would have noticed by now, since you are kind of an honorary member.” 

As she said this, you couldn’t help but notice Fred holding up Harry’s leg. He looked ecstatic as he marched, looking out into the crowd. He seemed to be looking around a lot, actually. But as he locked eyes with you, he couldn’t look away. 

“Say, I think we’d be able to sneak you into the common room if you want to come and celebrate?” Ruby asked, turning her head and smirking at Fred. 

Something about that statement made your stomach flip. Instantly you knew she was up to something. Something you felt you didn’t want any part of. 

“Um, maybe not. My friends might be wondering where I am.” you insisted, trying to wriggle out of whatever she was trying to rope you into. You started to walk towards the exit, but she caught your arm and pulled you towards her.

“Come on!” she insists. “It’ll only be for like a minute. Please! I’ll shout you a Butterbeer next time we go into Hogsmeade.” 

You roll your eyes at her. You really shouldn’t have revealed to her that butterbeer was your kryptonite. 

“Fine,” you huffed. “But only for a second. Someone might rat me out to the Slytherins.” 

“Rat you out? Oh please, we’ve all been dying to sneak you into the common room.” 

...

As Ruby lead you to the Gryffindor common room, your stomach became tied in knots. Not because you weren’t really meant to be there, but because you knew something was about to happen after hearing that conversation behind you earlier, and Ruby’s insistence on taking you with her to the common room. And whether it was good or bad, you couldn’t tell. 

As you stepped through the entrance, you took in a small gasp. It was remarkably different to the cold, dark dungeons that you were used to. It was inviting, with a faint smell of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting through the air. The burgundy tapestry and patterns on the walls, carpets and lounges added a sense of homeliness to the place. You had to admit, it was very nice.

Ruby took you over to where Angelina was standing with some other fifth years you vaguely noticed from some of your classes. You tried your best to become involved in the conversation about the upcoming potions test and how Professor Sprout is totally out to get someone for accidentally poisoning some fungi in class, but the nagging sense of an impending doom lingered in your mind. 

“You know, maybe if you actually paid attention in class you could have kept Gryffindor in first place,” Ruby suggested with an unimpressed look on her face.

“I keep telling her that it wasn’t my fault! One minute it was fine and the next it was turning black right before me,” the culprit insisted. 

“Maybe you should just switch into something where the safety of living things aren’t at stake,” Angelina suggested jokingly. The conversation then took off with accusations and mockery going back and fourth between the students. A sudden tap on your shoulder made you spin around again to see Fred smiling at you.

“I wasn’t excepting to see you in here,” he said. 

You grinned back at him. “Hello to you, too.” 

He pulled you a few steps away from the group, which sent pangs of anxiety jolting around your body.

“So how do you like it in here? Better than the deep, dank dungeons of your kind I guess?”

You shook your head. “It’s nice. But I prefer to spend my time cackling around in the dark with my witches hat and crooked teeth.” 

“And what’s this?” he asked suddenly, playing with Angelina’s scarf in his fingers. 

“My disguise,” you said. “Does it suit me?” 

You struck a pose that made him laugh. “If you weren’t such a cunning little Slytherin, then maybe it would.” 

You snarled at him. “I was going to congratulate you on winning, but for that comment you get nothing.” 

“Oh, you were going to be nice to me for once?” he joked, chuckling slightly. 

“I’m always nice to you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He scoffed. “I don’t believe it.” 

“What?” you exclaim. 

“I’ll tell you what,” he started. “You go out on a date with me, and then maybe I’ll believe that you’re nice to me.” 

You shook your head in disbelief, as it finally clicked as to why Ruby was so persistent on getting you in here, and what those people were talking about at the match. Did he really just turn the conversation into this? 

“That’s really funny,” you say sarcastically, realising that you were starting to put your defences up. Of course you wanted to go out with him, but being vulnerable with someone is a particularly frightening thing.  

“I mean it.” 

The look in his eyes also suggest it. You’ve never seen him look this sincere before.

Right before you can get a word out, Ruby grabs you by the arm. 

“It’s time to go! McGonagall is on her way!” she said.

You took one last look at Fred before Ruby whisked you away. 

You had just reached the common room entrance when a voice rose above the loud chatter. 

“Go out with me?” It yelled. 

Your eyes widened as a hush fell over the common room. You turned your head to see the whole of Gryffindor staring at you. Your gaze fell on Fred, who was standing with a smile on his face. He knew this would get an answer out of you.

He started to slowly walk towards you. Ruby nudged you with her elbow, urging you to go forward. Your legs carried you towards him without a conscious thought. This whole situation didn’t feel real to you anymore.

“Say yes!” said a voice that broke the silence, and you knew belonged to George Weasley.

Your stomach felt like it was auditioning for the acrobatic team in the circus when you finally met him in the middle of the common room. It felt like an hour had passed before he said something to you. 

“So, what do you say?” he asked. 

Since you developed your crush on Fred, you had fantasised about this moment. About how he would ask you at just the right time and place, maybe as you two were alone somewhere in the castle, or he might plan something romantic. But this was the reality. 

He was asking you in front of a whole house of people in some place you weren’t meant to be. This wasn’t how you imagined things to go. But you also knew this moment wouldn’t come again. 

“Yes,” you muttered, becoming flustered. 

“Yes?” 

“Yes, dummy!”

Fred’s face exploded into a smile as he leaned in to kiss you. 

You heard the entire common room’s noise level increase into blasting cheers as he held your face in his hands, kissing you passionately. 

As you broke away, the whole of the common room came circling around you, cheering almost as loudly as at the Quidditch match. 

He gave you one final kiss before Ruby stepped in to pull you away. 

“Friday then?” he whispered in your ear. 

“We’ll see.” 

As you left the common room, a sudden realisation dropped in your body. You didn't know how to explain this to Adrian. 

[lov3nerdstuff]

Wicked Game {Part 2}

~Professor Hiddleston AU~

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Part: 2/30

Words: 4k

Warnings: Professor x student (college AU), little language

Summary: After transferring to a new university for the last year of your master's, you meet Professor Hiddleston and soon find yourself unable to stay away from him.

A.N.: I really suck at summaries, I'm so sorry 😅 this is a slow burn romance with lots of pining 💗 this chapter is sweet but a little painful, sorry not sorry 😁 but you're gonna love the next chapter so stay tuned!!!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!

______________________________

Your alarm blared loudly, making you groan and hit the snooze button. It was too early and too cold outside of your bed, especially after the long night you'd had… So you just lay under the warm covers and thought about the day ahead. Today, you'd see Hiddleston again and you were determined to not be caught off guard by him once more. After all, you didn't even know if he was worth swooning over and all you could tell was that he looked like a god and was nicer than an angel. Wow, that thought didn't help at all.

After another fifteen minutes filled with scrolling through various apps, you finally felt ready to tackle the day and got out of bed with a long sigh. You were in dire need of coffee and made a mental note to stop by the small coffee shop you had noticed yesterday on your way to class. For now, your first problem was that you didn't really know what to wear to class today. Usually questions like that didn't bother you much and you just wore whatever was decent enough, but today you felt like making an effort. You were trying to convince yourself that it wasn't because of Hiddleston, though.

After you had finally settled for black skinny jeans, a dark green wool pullover and boots with semi-high block heels, you added some dainty golden jewelry and already felt like you looked a lot nicer than ninety percent of the rest of the year.

As you went to pack your bag, you realized that you still hadn't found your keys. Sighing you put on some music and dug through your whole room, without any results. The damn keychain was gone and you sat down on your squeaking bed in despair. You'd had such high hopes for your last year and for the new college… but at the moment, everything was going pear shaped. It was getting quite late and you still wanted to get some coffee, so you packed your books and supplies into a leather backpack (mindful to not repeat yesterday's mistake of bringing a broken satchel that wouldn't close), then wrapped a big scarf around yourself and made your way to the metro.

The ride wasn't too long, just enough time for you to get out your headphones and listen to a few songs. In no time you reached your station and made your way towards the coffee shop you'd seen yesterday. It was on a quiet corner a little off campus and to your surprise not all that many students were inside. Must be because of the Starbucks that was right on campus… You didn't mind Starbucks, but preferred good coffee over status symbols.

You ordered your favorite beverage in as large as possible (yes, it was necessary) and waited patiently for your order while quietly singing along to the song you were listening to. When the customer before you received his order, the minimalist logo on the cup caught your attention. Wasn't that the same kind of cup Hiddleston had kept in his office yesterday? That's when an idea struck you, an idea both stupid and very much necessary after making such a fool of yourself. You'd bring him coffee as a thank you for being so nice.

"Excuse me…" You turned to the girl behind the counter. "Uhm… is there any chance you'd remember the tall man with the incredible blue eyes who was here yesterday morning?"

"Kinda curly hair, glasses, handsome as fuck?" She chuckled.

"That's him." You smiled back. "Do you still remember what he ordered?"

"Uhm, yeah, I think so." She thought for a moment. "Must've been a large filter coffee with a tiny dash of milk, no sweetener but a teaspoon of cocoa. He was very precise about that."

"Then please add that to my order." You said and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It was set, you'd bring the man in question coffee. Maybe that was inappropriate, but if you could build a good (and professional) relationship with him, maybe he would be willing to supervise your thesis at the end of the year. You'd worked so long for those degrees and he seemed like a good fit since he was an expert in both fields of your study. For now, that was a good enough justification for your behavior.

A moment later you picked up your order and slowly made your way to class. This time around you knew how to read the weird room number on your schedule: first the tower, then the floor, then the corridor and finally the actual room number. That truly was one disadvantage of a bigger university… too many rooms! Making your way towards your room, you continued to silently sing along to your music in an attempt to ignore the people around you until you reached your destination.

The room was open but yet empty, so you made your way to the second row (first would've been too… weird, after yesterday), set down the coffees and your bag and finally sat down yourself. There were still ten minutes to go until your class would start, so you closed your eyes and enjoyed the music for a while.

"You can sing really well." His voice made your eyes snap open in an instant and you had the immediate feeling of a dejavu. You hadn't even realized that you had been singing along loudly, but obviously you had, and just embarrassed yourself in front of your professor once again.

"Mr. Hiddleston!" You shrieked, stopping the music and putting away your phone and headphones. "I didn't notice you coming… Sorry."

"It's alright." He smiled as he set his bag down at the front. "Have you considered joining the university's choir? I mean it's none of my business, but I'm sure they would welcome a great voice such as yours."

You blushed furiously, and he also seemed to be taken aback a little by his words. For a moment, the whole room was silent.

"Uhm…" You remembered the coffee and rose to your feet, taking the cup and slowly walking towards the front. "I… I brought you coffee. As a thank you for yesterday. You really saved my ass with those room numbers…"

His eyes widened slightly as he slowly reached out to take the cup from you. Then, for a short moment, he just stared at you in disbelief and you felt your heart sink to the floor and even lower. It had been a bad idea after all, stupid even, how could you have thought…

"That's very thoughtful of you, but not at all necessary." He finally said in a kind voice, breaking your downward spiral of thoughts. "I'm just glad I could help." Then he smiled once more as if nothing had happened.

"I just thought you'd appreciate it." You smiled slightly and went to sit back down.

"I do." He muttered quietly as he took a sip, frowning once more once he tasted his signature mix. The irritation and surprise in his face made you smile a little too widely and you would've paid quite a bit to see it again.

"How…?" He laughed, pointing at the cup and then at you.

"I'm good at guessing." You shrugged and couldn't help but smirk at him. However as he rose an eyebrow at you in amusement and pushed his glasses up, you laughed out loud.

"I asked the barista in the coffee shop. I noticed how you had their cup on your desk yesterday, and that gave me the idea in the first place." You admitted, shaking your head to yourself.

"Very clever, Miss L/n…" He mused, taking another sip with an expression of pure bliss and you followed the example.

"I hope you'll say the same after class." You chuckled, getting your books out of your backpack and hoping that your heart rate would slow down soon. But his voice was like honey: once you'd enjoyed its sweet sound, you were bound to be drawn in and kept within it's comfort again and again.

Mr. Hiddleston walked back to his table at the front and also grabbed his materials from his bag, preparing for the class ahead. Meanwhile a bunch of other students filed into the room, taking their seats around you. A girl with green hair and quite a few piercings sat down next to you, throwing a judging look at you.

"I'm Sky." She said simply, waiting for a response.

"Y/n." You smiled at her without any judgement, which she obviously didn't expect.

"You… you're new here, right?" She asked, now a lot friendlier.

"Do I look that lost?" You chuckled, thankful for the distraction from staring at Hiddleston.

"No, but I've never seen you around. What's your major?"

"I'm doing a double degree in cultural studies and literature." You sighed. "It's my last year."

"Wow…" Sky said, clicking her pen a few times. "Because of him?" She pointed to the front where Mr. Hiddleston stood, flipping through a fancy green journal that instantly caught your interest. However you remembered the conversation you were having and shook your head a little too eagerly.

"No!" Your voice sounded an octave too high. "I… I don't even know him. I…. I've been in this degree for two years already, and this is only my second day at this school and…"

"Woah, calm down!" Sky laughed. "I was just kidding!"

You let out a shaky breath and tried to smile. "Not funny…"

"Well, but funny is that everyone is crushing on him." She mentioned around the room. "That's why his classes are always completely crowded. He's a darn good teacher, but pretty demanding."

"Good to know." You sighed. "What's your degree?"

"Literature." She shrugged. "Only one degree, two more years to go. I'm not that much of an overachiever."

You snorted, shaking your head at her comment. "I'm aiming for a career in academics. One gotta stand out to get there, you know…"

"Oh geez, Hiddleston will love you then…" She chuckled.

"So, you've taken his classes before?" You assumed, looking at your new acquaintance with sincere interest.

Sky opened her mouth to answer, but Mr. Hiddleston interrupted your conversation to start the class.

"Hello everyone. I'm Professor Thomas Hiddleston and this is my lecture about advanced literature analysis in context of hermeneutic theory. Today, we're going to handle things a bit differently than you'd expect. We start straight with the first topic, formalities will be covered at the end of class." He announced, glancing at you for just a short moment. You looked down at your notebook with a small smile, happy at the prospect of actually learning something. Sky on the other hand looked at Mr. Hiddleston, then at you with an amused smirk, before focusing on her own notes.

The rest of the lecture went by without any further interruptions and you focused solemnly on your studies. Most of the things that were covered today you had already read the night before and thus you could focus on learning the small details he was giving. When the lecture was over and everyone had asked their questions and collected their syllabi, you tried to resist the temptation of staying behind to talk to your professor. You wanted to tell him how much you enjoyed the class and how interesting the topic had been, but you also knew that it would leave the wrong impression. The last thing you wanted was to annoy him and he probably didn't want to talk to you anyway. You'd already had your daily dose of awkwardness when you had bought him coffee.

So you quickly packed up and walked towards the door where Sky was waiting to grab lunch with you.

"Miss L/n!" Mr. Hiddleston called after you, pushing his way through a crowd of female student who wanted to talk to him very desperately.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, pulling yourself together to not become a blushing mess once again.

"Miss L/n…" He said as he stepped closer to you, so close in fact that you could faintly smell his cologne. "I found your keys. In, uhm… in my office… last night." He fished them out of his pocket as unsuspiciously as possible and placed them in your hand. When his fingers brushed against yours, as lightly as a feather, you could practically see him jump and shudder, but he quickly regained his composure and put on a fake smile. The small action made your heart drop a little, but you chose to ignore it. If he was so uncomfortable with you, even at this minimal and accidental touch, you would do him the favor and stay away from him outside of class.

"Wow, thank you! I was so worried I'd lost them." You said and then smiled at him encouragingly. "This class was amazing. Thank you, professor." With a small nod you closed your hand around your keys and took a few steps backwards, before turning around and heading for the door.

"What was THAT about?" Sky smirked as you walked down the hallway together.

"He just gave me my keys back." You rolled your eyes. "I forgot them at his office yesterday."

Now Sky straight-out stared at you with utter amusement until you realized how what you had just said must sound.

"Gosh, that came out so wrong." You sighed and hid your face in your hands. Sky laughed and led you to the cafeteria for lunch, while you told her about your encounter with Hiddleston from the previous day.

"He really brought you all the way to your room? In the E tower?" She asked while chewing on a bunch of fries. "That's kinda cute."

"It's not!" You complained, stealing one of her fries. "He had to teach a class in the same tower anyway."

Sky laughed, shaking her head. "Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah, I told him he didn't have to and he said it's fine, he'd have to go there anyway." You shrugged, sipping on your water.

"Such a liar!" She grinned. "The E tower is for foreign languages, he's got nothing to do there."

You felt your skin heat up for a short moment, but even when it faded, the tingles remained. "Well, maybe he was just trying to be friendly. Or his class was moved to a different room. Who knows. Isn't he always nice to his students?"

Sky shrugged. "He's one of the nicest people on campus, that's true. Except for… well, that won't happen to you anyway."

"Tell me!" You inquired. "Except for what?"

"Well, he gets really into his studies and the topics and stuff… and when students disrespect him or act like asses he can lash out pretty badly."

"And… does that happen often?"

"Nah, don't worry about it. It usually only hits people who really deserve it." She waved it off and you nodded.

"So… you're not crushing on him then?" You asked after a few minutes.

"Hell no!" She laughed out loud. "I'm not into… well, anything actually. I'm very happy on my own. Are you? Crushing on him, I mean?"

You breathed deeply and frowned. "I don't think so… I mean he's nice and stuff, but he's being nice to everyone and it didn't mean anything that he showed me to my room. And most importantly: I don't even know him really!"

"Very true…" She nodded. "And he's a professor after all… if he's interested in anyone, it'll probably be someone who's on the same level as him, like, cognitively and academically and stuff…"

You nodded and finished your sandwich, not even hungry anymore. The feeling of being absolutely ridiculous had taken over your body and you were in desperate need for some alone time to get your messed up emotions sorted out. And you were granted just that, as Sky excused herself for she had a class in five minutes. With a tired sigh you took another look at your schedule and then headed to the library to do some more reading on today's topics.

The rest of the day you spent studying, passing time up to your evening class. For some reason it was way more difficult to focus in this class, let alone to enjoy the topic, as you had already taken pretty much the same class at your old college. But the class was a requirement here and you were determined to do well in it despite the inevitable boredom. So when you got some homework at the end, you headed straight back to the library. It was already eight in the evening and campus was pretty deserted, except for the poor souls such as yourself who happened to have night classes. The assignment was easy, horribly easy even, and you had double- and triple-checked your work by nine thirty and handed it in per email at shortly before ten. Finally done for the day, you raced to the metro to head home (the last train left shortly after ten and you weren't going to walk that damn long way home at night), where the inevitable noises of your roommate's friends made you want to cry. Oh, how desperately you wanted to move out… but yet, you hadn't found a better place to live and honestly, you couldn't really afford any of the fancy apartments around.

When you were in the safety of your room, the day finally caught up with you and you felt dead tired, ready to sleep for a very long time.

Three weeks went by like this: you worked your ass off, every day and every night, in an attempt to distract yourself from your thoughts about your professor. In class, you had gotten so far ahead that you could answer every single one of his questions, sometimes before he even asked them. Sky remained your only friend at uni, but she knew better than to try talking to you about Mr. Hiddleston. She noticed however that after the day he had given you your keys back, he avoided talking to you, or even looking at you if it wasn't for the sole purpose of having his questions answered in class. And you had to admit, it broke you. The more you tried to be good enough, to prove your worth in class, the more he pulled back. It wasn't like he was straight out ignoring you, but after the day you had brought him coffee (which, in your eyes, had gone really well and he had seemed genuinely happy) he had still been very friendly to you, but in a forced, fake way and he was distant if possible. In one of the rare moments when you had caught him off guard in the hallway, his eyes had been a blazing storm, deeply torn and full of questions. When he had looked away, you'd known that whatever you had done wrong, it wasn't easy to be made up, if it was to be made up at all. At least he was still giving you (well deserved) top grades in all your assignments, and as long as that stayed this way you would stay away from him and try to study as hard as possible. However at the beginning of the fourth week, when you were unable to fall asleep on Monday night, you had to admit that you had been lying to yourself. Every time you had gotten the chance, you had heavily insisted that you had absolutely no feelings for and no interest in Thomas Hiddleston. But lying was getting too difficult, it was too exhausting to pretend anymore. So on Monday night, you decided that you would be honest about it, if only to yourself: you were desperately falling for him. Of course you knew that it was wrong and stupid and utterly hopeless, but you'd let yourself dream that in some other world, he could maybe be yours.

_______________

Tom had always thought that the biggest problem in his career would be a student unhappy with their grade, or maybe one of those horrible plays the faculty made their professors do every few years.

But as it turned out, his biggest problem liked to drink coffee in class and to stay at the uni's library until closing time.

The day he had found you sitting all alone in the classroom, singing along to Zombie, he had been more than determined to treat you like everyone else. But when he had heard your lovely voice, singing a song he adored, he just couldn't help but comment on it. And that's when things had started to get really difficult for him. You had brought him coffee, his favorite kind from his favorite coffee shop… of course you didn't have any ulterior motives behind that, but he had been momentarily stunned by the kind gesture. It was really uncommon, sure, but he'd appreciated it so very much… more than he should have. For that day's lecture he had noticed how his eyes had darted back to you whenever possible, and he had felt horrible about it. If it hadn't been for your keys, he would gladly have gotten some distance between you and him. And then your hands touched… and he was gone, lost in the desire to be closer to you. You had complimented his teaching, then left quickly. Oh, he had felt so stupid after that, especially when the usual bunch of female students had tackled him and followed him all the way back to his office.

During the three next weeks he had tried once again to force you out of his brain, but you made things very difficult for him. The things you knew, your brilliant opinions and ideas… he didn't even have to ask, you could always tell what he would be saying next. And if he would've let himself, he would've spent the entirety of class only talking to you. However he feared that the two of you had slipped into rather the contrary of what he wanted so badly: you stayed away from him as much as possible if not to answer a question, hardly even looking at him. And he had known it was for the better if he stayed away from you as well. He had felt creepy and wrong for wanting to be near you, and surely it would only get him in a lot of trouble if he acted on this… whatever it was.

The worst thing was that he didn't even know anything about you and he had absolutely no reason to even feel the way he did… but that's just what it was about, he WANTED to get to know you, as more than just another student. And the fact that almost every girl was practically chasing him while you did everything to stay out of his way was probably a good thing too. He didn't know if he could deal with another direct encounter with you, outside of class… he didn't know if he could keep himself from doing something stupid. Like asking you out, to grab a coffee with him. Or to help him grade the first-year assignments. Though the first idea would be more fun.

For now, on a stormy Monday night, he sat in his apartment, drinking a double Jameson on ice and asking himself if he would lose his interest in you if only he didn't act on it. After his fourth whisky he came to the lasting conclusion that he wouldn't do either: he won't allow himself to act on it, but he would allow himself to dream.

_______________

Tags:

@just-the-hiddles

@its-remy-not-ratatouille

@inmyworstlies

@lotus-eyedindiangoddess

@foodthatsgoodforyoursoul

@jessalynjones1989

@dark-night-sky-99

@hiddles-lobotomy

@shockwavee

@laudylovesyou

@maze-lt101

@cupcakeangelness

@fairlightswiftly

@lys-syl

@ordinarygirlfromasmalltown

@pinkzz123

@spookycatqueen

@wegingerangelica

@exygon

@izzy10718

@jenna-sakura

@kinghiddlestonanddixon

Everyone who's crosses out, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag! I'm very sorry about that...

If you'd like to be added to the tag list comment down below 💗✨💚

[eldri-sv]

26 - Aizawa

Kaori Shinsou has always been fascinated by people’s minds. She is one of the best students in her Criminal Psychology course at U.A. and - being the lucky girl she is - her professor is not only one handsome dude, but is also working on the case of the serial killer Stain - a case that has been going on for years. As she is about to become Professor Aizawa’s TA during the next term, a lot of other interesting cases start popping up all over the country…

Deep down we both knew it was trouble by design

(Cage The Elephant - Too Late To Say Goodbye)

Shouta Aizawa gave Tsukauchi a long hard look. He really couldn't believe this man sometimes. Sure, he was doing his job well and all, but he just kept having terrible ideas, like waking him up in the middle of the night with a phone call, just so he could head out to a crime scene and have a look at it, when he could just gather the same information from a well-made report. (Sometimes Aizawa suspected he didn't trust people with writing good reports, but that was a story for another day.) Or that thing he just suggested about Kaori Shinsou.

"Are you being serious right now?" Aizawa asked him, pretty sure that he was trying to play some sort of prank on him.

"Of course! I've seen her work on two different cases now and she has been brilliant. Would be a shame to let her waste away at the Hosu City department. Or have her go back to Tartarus next term." Tsukauchi replied. Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Look, I get it. She's really good at this and by all means, she should get to work in a higher ranking job. But Tsukauchi, have you looked at her? That girl has been doing night shift after night shift in Hosu, then she goes to university and then straight back to work. I've seen her asleep in the damn library, Tsukauchi! She needs a fucking break." he explained. Tsukauchi nodded quickly.

"Of course, of course, I'm not saying she should come here and intern with us right away. I'll have to look at a ton of paperwork for that anyway, and obviously she'd have to agree to it. We'd give her some time off, especially during exams. But she'd be able to work on high profile cases, instead of some teenagers burning stuff in trash cans. Think about it." Tsukauchi said.

Of course he was right. He had a very valid point. It would be a shame to waste Shinsou's talent when it came to criminal psychology with her staying in the Hosu City department. She would have much more room to grow if she was interning with and working for the National Police Department.

But Shinsou already had no idea what a healthy work-life balance meant. Aizawa knew she didn't, because he was the same. And while he loved his job as a teacher and part-time criminal psychologist for the National Police Department, he also knew that it sucked getting that little sleep and being under the kind of high pressure that these kinds of cases brought with them.

"I mean, in the end it will be her decision. But I don't think it's a good idea. She's overworking herself as it is. There were several times during the last few weeks when she just collapsed from exhaustion. This already isn't healthy for her. Now imagine Shinsou getting to work for a much bigger organization - she'd work herself to death because she felt she had to." Aizawa replied.

"Sounds like someone I know." Tsukauchi told him with a smile.

"Exactly. And that's why I know she'd get much more stressed than she already is. I know I am stressing myself more than is good for me."

"Well, have you considered that the two of you would be working together? Which means you would both technically have a smaller workload and that benefits both you and her. Plus, that way you can still have an eye on her and make sure she gets some time off, if that's so important to you." Tsukauchi said.

Aizawa had to admit he hadn't thought about that. It could possibly even convince him. But there was no way he'd admit that to Tsukauchi. Thinking about it, he quite liked the idea of being able to work with Shinsou. After all, he had been itching to show her some of the confidential files on the Stain case, just to be able to get her perspective. Aizawa didn't like working closely with people, but he could imagine working with Kaori Shinsou. He sighed. Tsukauchi had already won.

"Well, go and suggest it to her. I still don't think it's the best idea, but in the end it is her decision. And I agree, it would be nice to get her somewhere higher up than the Hosu Department." Aizawa finally said. Tsukauchi gave him a knowing smile and got up from his chair in the school cafeteria.

"Sounds good to me, then. I'll get the paperwork in order and then I can hopefully see her about it sometime next week. I'd like to get her on for interviewing Stain by any means." Tsukauchi replied.

"That would be a good idea, she's been following that case since forever. She's obsessed with it. Anyway, get your paperwork done and then see if she wants to do it or not." Aizawa mumbled.

He still didn't quite feel alright with that decision, but there was nothing he could do either way. Tsukauchi had come to him to test the waters and see what he had to say about her academic abilities. And those were as good as they could possibly be. He had nothing bad to say about Shinsou.

"Oh yeah, before I leave. The two of you might want to be a little more discreet with... whatever it is that's going on between you." Tsukauchi said and winked at him. Aizawa gave him a confused look.

"What?" he asked, not expecting to hear anything like that. Of course he had heard of the stupid rumours, but he had never paid them much mind. To him they were just that - stupid rumours.

"I don't know if there is anything going on between you and Shinsou, but there are rumours. And it is quite obvious that you are... fond of her." Tsukauchi replied. Aizawa was completely dumbfounded by this. He had never expected anyone to bring this up to his actual face. Yes, he was fond of Shinsou. He liked her, there was no point denying it. And there was also no point denying that she was an attractive young woman. But there was absolutely nothing going on.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but there is really nothing going on..." Aizawa started, but Tsukauchi interrupted him.

"Look, I really don't care. I'm just saying this as a friend. People get certain impressions, that's all I'm saying."

And with that Tsukauchi left. Aizawa had no idea how to react to any of that. He had always thought that all those rumours were somewhat ridiculous. There was absolutely no substance to this. But now Tsukauchi had him second-guessing himself. What if there was anything inappropriate between them?

It wasn't like anything they'd do would be illegal, but it would surely be against school policy if they were having an affair of any sort. Especially as long as Shinsou was in his course. An image got conjured up in his mind of Kaori Shinsou in one of her short skirts and her knee socks on, sitting on the heavy oak desk in his office, leaning back, legs spread wide, looking at him with those lascivious eyes and...

Fuck. Where the hell did that come from? Aizawa was trying to tell himself that it was only because of what Tsukauchi had insinuated that he had just been thinking about that, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he definitely had a thing for Shinsou - he had just been suppressing it, because... well, because he was her professor and she was his student.

This was bad. This was beyond bad. How the hell did he not notice how far he let all this get? Those little mind games where he intentionally wouldn't call on her for ages during class, just to see her essentially fighting for his attention, the way she'd almost grow in her seat every time he gave her any sort of praise - hell, him taking her on as a teacher's assistant.

None of that was helping in any way. Maybe he just had to find a way to at least publicly distance himself from her. Try not asking her to stay after class so many goddamn times. That would be a start. Aizawa sighed and took a sip from his half-empty cup of coffee. It had gotten cold. Of course.

"Morning, prof!" he heard a cheerful voice say behind him. Speaking of the devil. He turned in his chair and saw Kaori Shinsou standing there, a lunch tray in her hands, obviously on the way over to her friends.

"What do you want, Shinsou?" he asked, feeling a headache coming on. He was in no mood to deal with this right now.

"Just happened to pass by on my way. I saw Tsukauchi talk to you and you looked kind of shaken. Is everything okay?" she replied innocently. Good God, this was getting worse and worse. Aizawa gave her a glare.

"It's none of your concern." he said coldly, trying to implement the rules he had just set for himself. Shinsou looked like she was taken aback a little and then she just shrugged and gave him a smile.

"Okay." she replied and continued in her way. That smile literally broke Aizawa's heart. It wasn't easily noticeable, but it was absolutely a fake smile. He kept telling himself that all of this was for the best. He really wanted to keep his job and he didn't want to force Shinsou to transfer courses either.

He had no idea how he was supposed to work with her, if she decided to transfer from the Hosu department to the nationwide department. He tried to remember how he was treating the rest of his students, but somehow it didn't seem to translate in any way to Shinsou. She was smart, dedicated and... really fucking hot.

There. He said it. He thought his student was hot. And really, there was nothing wrong about it. She was 22, there were really only 8 years between them. The only thing that was a problem was U.A.'s policy on that. And that's why he had to cut the bullshit and stop being obvious about it.

Aizawa took a deep breath and took another sip from his coffee. With the shock of his new realization he had completely forgotten that it had become cold and disgusting. He grimaced, as he remembered. Only thirty minutes left until his Criminal Psychology class. With Kaori Shinsou in it. Fuck.

He was so used to talking to her about her assignments after class or to have a small chat in the classroom just before the course started. He was used to watching her write down immaculate notes, her sticking her pencil into her hair and forgetting about it for ages, her sitting up more and more when he wasn't calling on her on purpose. This whole thing would be harder than he thought.

With a sigh he got up to get rid of his coffee and hole himself up in the staff room. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now, not after he had had this weird epiphany. His mind flashed the image of Shinsou's sad eyes at him reacting so coldly before him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Fuck, this really would be hard.

[scaredycat113]

I'm Allie: A Biography Summarized

Hey all!

My name is Alyssa, but call me Allie, let's drop the formalitiles already; we're all friends here right?When I was a kid, I always had a thing for creating new realities in my head. Now some would call this "lying", but I just think those people are close minded. As a kid, I really liked to tell stories, I mean, who didn't?! Everyone would be tuned in to your every detail, actually listening (and hopefully enjoying) the tale you spun for them. I remember the first story I ever told (only because it went so badly). I was about 6 or 7 years old and someone asked if anyone had a scary story to tell. I did not, but I was determined to tell one anyway. It was a story of a man who woke to find his whole town abandoned. Long story short, his friends played a prank on him. I know what you're thinking... not clever or scary in the slightest, but I was 8 give me a break! Everyone groned, no one liked it, but I thought, "ya know what? I kinda like telling stories." and thus the writer in me was born.

Fast forward to 2008, Step-Up 2: The Streets had just come out. I LOVED THAT MOVIE. I mean taught myself every dance and learned every line kinda love for that movie (I'll challenge anyone to a dance off). So at the ripe age of 10, I wrote my first movie. It was called Step-Up 3: The Masquerade and it was fantasic (for a 10 year old. Give me some credit). For some unknown reason, Touchstone didn't pick it up (they missed out BIG TIME), but I kept on writing. I wrote a couple of short stories and entered into competitions. I got discouraged over the years and thought, "maybe writing just isn't for me." I loved it, but it seemed like no one else liked my work as much as I did. So I changed paths.

When I was in high school, I wanted to go into international relations. I figured it would be really fun and rewarding to work with companies in different nations and try to help them breach the communicational gap. All was fine and dandy until I met my high school drama teacher, Mr. Wells. Mr. Wells had that contagious type of passion (I hope every student, regardless of subject, finds a teacher like him). We had a section where we had to write a play and I thought, "I already wrote a movie so this will be a piece of cake!". It was not. I worked for weeks on that play and turned up to class with a pile of crap. The frothy diarrhea icing on that cake was having it performed by my classmates that day so I could fully bask in the embarrasment that was my 14 page crapfest. After seeing my AWFUL play actually performed I thought, "I can do better." and so I did.

Junior year of high school we had a student-directed play festival. Of the 20-something years this festival had been going, no one entered in an original script, so I decided to enter this play festival with my new creation, a play titled, "Take a Number, Please". It was about a man who walked into a the ER with a head injury who's asked to take a number by the nurse at reception. Throughout the play, many other patients walk in with trivial injuries (a woman had lipstick on her tooth which she couldn't get off, another swallowed a bug), but the nurse lets them go through to see the doctor immediately. Turns out, the man who came in first is a patient at the hospital who periodically wanders down to the ER and complains of a head injury because he has amnesia and all of the other people walking into the ER are just in his head. Not a novel concept by any means, but it was mine and I treated it like my baby. The first night of the festival, my play was a hit. I had parents coming up to me saying how much they enjoyed my play, but the most rewarding part was hearing people laugh at my jokes and "awww" at the struggles of the characters I created. It was the highlight of my high school days, no doubt. This lit a fire under my ass.

Freshman year of college I had designated myself as a communication major, but one of the electives I signed up for was a scriptwriting class. It was the first time I really got to explore my writing and I loved every second of it. This was the year I really got to express my hidden side. A side that was a little bit dark and twisted. I wrote a play called, "Psychomachia" which boils down to "battle of spirits" or "soul war" (but Psychomachia sounded way cooler). It was about a girl who was struggling with two halves of herself, a light side and a dark side. Both my classmates and my professor loved this piece and, I'm not gonna lie, so did I. This piece was the first true expression of how I felt at the time and I cherished every second of writing it. Then I let others get to me...

"There's no money in writing." "You can't make a living off creative writing." I believed it. I figured I'd put my time into a career where I could support myself after graduation, so I stopped writing. I changed my goal back to international relations. I figured if I loved it once, I could love it again. Oh how wrong I was. I took a political science class and fell asleep as soon as the professor started talking (no dig on Prof Edwards, he was great). So I changed my goal, once again, to public relations with the hopes of becoming a social media manager, but I wasn't thrilled about it. I had no passion for it, I just figured it would give me a solid income to live on.

Spring semester of my Junior year I took a communication course called, "Gaming and Avatars". The course talked about how we can communicate all sorts of ideas through video games. This course was utterly illuminating for me. Not only did I meet my significant other in this class (shout out to my guy, KN, you know who you are), but I found my new love as well, communicating.... THROUGH VIDEO GAMES. What a crazy idea, right?! I could connect two things I absolutely loved doing... and get paid for it?? Who knew?!

So there I was, about to graduate college and questioning every decision I made in my undergrad. At this point I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted to write for video games. The problem was getting my foot in the door. I contacted countless game studios and sent my resume hoping and praying someone would give me a chance. Every studio I applied to would look at my resume and respond (if they responded at all), "We don't have any PR positions available." and I would tell them that what I really wanted to do was write. They would usually stop responding after that. So I enrolled in a master's program for creative writing hoping that it would give me some credibility in the field. But I felt like I was behind. I felt like I started late because I didn't study writing during my undergrad.

So I worked my ass off and built my portfolio. I wrote short film scripts, scripts for a web series, and I even made a game. During this time I still applied to game studios. I would send them whatever script I was working on or my game, but still no dice, until...

June 30th, 2020 (yes, I saved the date, judge me if you want). I got my first commision to write for the fantastically brilliant Rise Eterna. I was nervous and second guessing if I was really cut out for this, but there was no time to consider it; I am a game writer.

So there it is. Thanks for sticking around. I know this post was a journey, but now you know a little bit about me.

Stay tuned for more blog posts in the future (the won't be as long, I pinky swear)! Also check out my website, because I post blog content there first.

Write on,

Allie

[purplesurveys]

945

A Survey For College/Uni Grads Survey by emptyspaces

What year did you graduate? 2020. It’s only been a little over a month, too.

What degree do you have? Journalism, but I might as well have had a minor in history because of the amount of history electives I took as well haha.

What classes did you take your first year? The first semester of my first year was purely for general courses, so I took basic courses on English, biology, math, philosophy, and Philippine history. By the second semester I took more basic courses on public speaking, physics, and social science, but by then I was already allowed to take two journalism majors.

Second year? My general courses included a basic course on art history, chemistry, English, Filipino, Asian history; my majors were on communication and media, news reporting, media law, media theory, journalism ethics, and an introductory course on broadcast communication.

Third year? The only general courses I had by this point were an intro to political science and a class on Philippine government and politics. I mostly took majors this year though, which wiped me the crap out: my majors were on media and society, feature writing, public relations, international relations, fact-checking, broadcast management, Southeast Asian history, and introductory courses on macroeconomics, film, psychology, and communication research.

Fourth year? I took up journalism design and layout, contemporary Philippine history, Philippine social history, pornography in media just because lol, an introductory course on anthropology, and I also got started on my thesis as well. My second and final semester got cancelled entirely because of the pandemic, but I would have finished units on business reporting, online journalism, community press, and the history of women in the Philippines.

Did it take you longer than four years to graduate? No. That would have disappointed my parents big time and considering how much effort they’ve put to send me to good schools, the least I could do was to graduate on time. Even if I wanted to shift out of my course, it would’ve led to a delay and I didn’t want that for them and I personally didn’t want that for myself either.

Did you start at 18, or did you have a gap year(s) after high school? Again, I didn’t want to take gap years for my parents’ sake. I immediately went to college right after graduating high school, like what the majority of students here do.

Was it a small or large college/university? Very large. The competition is even bigger – 100,000++ high school seniors take the entrance exam every year but they only take in around 10,000 passers. Still, 10,000 new students every school year is so many, and it’s always a bitch to get class slots because of our population.

Public or private? Public. 

Is there anything the school is well-known for? All sorts of things. It’s one of the top schools in the country, so we hog the spotlight in the national news pretty much everyday. I think the biggest things we’re known for though is our reputation for research and our activism history. It also makes us a popular target of pro-government trolls.

What were some of your favorite classes? I loved taking up art studies and all of my political science and history electives, and as for my journalism electives I really only enjoyed public relations and that one class where we ran an online magazine for a whole semester.

What were some classes you hated? Fucking economics. And fact-checking. And the fact that I took both in the same period...got my lowest average for that semester because of those classes, too. I feel like I would have done better if my economics class didn’t have a population of 200 and if I had a more experienced professor fact-checking but shit happens, I guess. I also felt like my porn class was a waste because the readings were so pretentious. And of course, philosophy.

Did you have any super-long classes? Like 3 hours or longer? All majors in my college are 3 hours long. So classes like PR, journalism ethics, feature writing, business reporting, media law, communication theory, etc. all definitely took a big chunk of my weekdays.

Did you ever change your major? No. I had multiple conversations with myself to decide if I should, but aside from not wanting to get delayed I also accepted the fact that as much as I had grown to not like journalism as a practice, the technical skills taught in it were still going to be super useful in the industry I want to get into, which is communications and PR.

Did you do any internships? If so, where? I did. I interned at a PR agency last year but it was part of my requirements to complete my course, so it felt forced to an extent. I’m currently interning at another PR agency, but this time I’m out of school and it’s a personal choice of mine.

Did you ever take any online classes? If so, which ones? I only had one or two online class sessions at the beginning of the lockdown, but my school ultimately cancelled the semester altogether in consideration of disadvantaged students who may not have laptops of their own or wi-fi at home. In the end they just gave a grade of ‘P’ to everyone, which meant Pass.

Were textbooks expensive? I didn’t need to buy entire textbooks because my professors usually just took excerpts or chapters from certain relevant books and let us photocopy the pages, which costs a lot cheaper than having to buy books.

What other supplies besides books did you have to buy for your classes? Other than course readings I didn’t need to spend much. Journalism isn’t a material-heavy course like how film or broadcast communication is.

Were you in any clubs or student organizations? Yes. I was in a journalism org, our graduation committee, and was part of a student publication at one point. I also tried to join AIESEC but my schedule was so hectic at the time that I had to drop it.

Did you ever volunteer anywhere? I was a lecturer and facilitator for the journalism workshops that my org regularly held (and will probably continue to volunteer even as a grad, since I know they appreciate alumni lecturers lol), and one time I also volunteered to be an usher for Batch 2019′s graduation.

Were you on any sports teams? Nope. I liked playing table tennis, but I was never trained properly enough to make it to varsity. 

Where was your favorite place to eat on campus? It depended on how much of a hurry I was in and how much I was willing to spend. The cheapest option was the network of kiosks scattered around campus which sold the same instant noodles and street food. If I wanted to reward myself but was on a tight budget, I went to Area 2 which is a residential street in campus that was also dotted with small food booths ran by the homeowners; if I had some money to spend and the time to stay in a sit-in restaurant I used to go to Chocolate Kiss.

Did you work while you were in college? I did not. I was lucky to be in a privileged position where my parents were able to provide for me and where I never had to worry about finances.

If so, where? How many hours per week?

How many times did you move throughout college? I didn’t. We lived in the same house the whole time I was in college.

Did you live on campus, in an apartment, or somewhere else? I lived at home and I just drove to and from school everyday, since the campus was near-ish enough for me not to avail of a dorm or condo.

Did you live with roommates? Alone? With a significant other? I lived with my family, but tbh it was mostly my mom and brother at home since my sister stays at a dorm and my dad works abroad.

If off-campus, how much was your rent? Never had to pay any.

How often did you go back to visit your parents? I went home to my mom every night lol, unless I had a sleepover at someone else’s place.

Did your parents help you out with living costs? Sure did. Nothing changed with my living arrangements and I still lived under their roof.

Did your parents (or someone else) pay for your tuition? They paid for the first two semesters; then by my sophomore year the government passed an act implementing free tuition for all state universities so since then they never had to pay a cent for my education.

Was it an expensive school? Not at all, which is why the competition to get in is so fierce. To illustrate, four years in my school is just equivalent to one semester in my sister’s college. Last time I checked one unit is ₱1500 or roughly $30.

If you paid for it, do you still have student loans you're paying off? I don’t have student loans. Idk if that’s a thing here, actually. I don’t think it is.

How many people did you date throughout college? One.

What was your longest relationship while in college? The whole four years. I was in the same relationship when I started and ended.

Were you in a sorority/fraternity? Fuck no.

Were you into partying? Just occasionally. I wasn’t a wild partier but I did go to a few college parties every now and then, and I certainly went to nearby bars nearly every Friday.

Where did you and your friends usually hang out? Along Katip, since there were enough places there to hang out in. Occasionally we’d go to Maginhawa, but I prefer it a lot less because the parking there sucks balls.

What did you and your friends do for fun? Drink, eat, play games.

Do you still keep in touch with any college friends? Very much. I support those who remain in the org, and I occasionally catch up with those who had already graduated.

Did any of them graduate with the same degree as you? Most of them did. It’s how I met them.

What did you do after you graduated? I rested for a bit but an existential crisis quickly came over and now I’m in a bit of a mental slump, but at least I’ve scored this internship to keep me occupied.

How was the pay at your first job out of college? The company I’m currently interning for objectively pays well, but they acquired me as an intern because they aren’t offering full-time positions for now. That said, I get an allowance rather than a salary so it isn’t much at all, but I’m still happy to be in the company because it’s supposed to be one of the top agencies in the country.

What classes prepared you the most for your career? PR, feature writing, public speaking, news reporting, online journalism...and tbh org work. 

- Five favorite memories from your college days -

1: UP vs DLSU basketball game from September last year HAAAAAA

2: Attending my organization’s orientation and encountering them for the first time, not knowing I was going to bloom so much there and gain my closest friends

3: High Def 2018 and 2019

4: Drinking at VSpot with Angela, Hans, Gabie, and whoever else from their Ateneo gang that also got invited

5: TK with orgmates

[shortsunshineposts]

BTS as Students

Jungkook

Jungkook sat in front of you in almost every class you were taking. He also fell asleep in almost every class you were taking. It frustrated you to no end. Not only did he not pay attention, but he aced every exam and every paper, while you struggled along with the rest of the class. On this particular day he was slumped in his chair passed out as usual. Your professor was lecturing about some dead guy who wasn’t all that interesting. You were staring blankly at your book when all the sudden a mop of brown hair broke your trance. Jungkook had leaned back so far his head was now resting up on your desk in front of you. You scoffed annoyed at his antics. You looked down at his sleeping face ready to poke his stupid nose to wake him up, but you stopped when you saw his soft features. His partially parted lips, his deep breaths, his lightly closed eyes. You found yourself brushing his bangs out of his face and carding your fingers through his hair. He just looked so peaceful. You eventually lose interest in the lecture entirely and begin to see how many pens you could balance on his forehead without waking him up. It was adorable. Just as you were about to place the last of your pens on the tower you’ve created the lecture ends and his eyes flutter open. Sitting up about eight pens fell into lap. You sat back in your chair hand covering your mouth your cheeks burning. He begins to laugh and turns to you.

“These are yours i’m guessing.” He said placing the pens on your desk. “Maybe you’ll get higher next time.” He winked at you as he left the class.

Namjoon

You walked into your class and sat down at your spot in the front of the room. You began taking out your laptop and your study materials ready to focus for the next hour. Sat down next to you was Kim Namjoon, he was the smartest kid in class, well aside from you of course. He took out his notebook and pens. His notes looked like those notes you see on pinterest or tumblr. It was organized, color coded, and he had the neatest handwriting. The only difference between those notes and his were the song lyrics and poems that filled the edges of the pages. Bits and pieces of various works, some from well known works others original. You loved to steal his notes whenever you were absent from class in order to take a peek at his writing. He really did have a way with words. Today he had his hair pushed back revealing his forehead and dark rimmed glasses framed his face. He concentrated on the page in front of him jotting down his latest masterpiece in the margins. You hadn’t realized you were staring until he was waving a hand in front of your face.

“Y/n?” He said leaning his head down to meet your stare.

“What? Oh sorry must’ve spaced out.” You said shaking your head, a light dusting of pink on your cheeks.

“If you really want to hear my writing we should hang out after class.” He said smiling at you, dimples prominent. “Trust me they’re a lot better strung together.”

Jin

You walked into class just as the clock hit the hour, not a minute early or a minute late. Unfortunately most of the class had already got there and the only seat left was in the back. You sat down next a taller boy with wide shoulders. It looked like he was already browsing the web with his notes pushed to one side before the professor had even started talking. You settled in getting ready for the next hour to go by. The lecture was lackluster, your professor was very old and very boring. About half of the class was on their phones or Netflix part way in.

“Next we’ll be talking about exponential equations.” Your Professor said switching powerpoints.

“Exponential equations are a pain in my asymptote.” The boy next to you huffed. You couldn’t help but giggle at his pun. He smiled lightly at his computer screen. He opened up a second document and chose a large font big enough so you could see it. He began typing out the most ridiculous puns you had ever seen. Dad level bad. You couldn’t help but laugh, you held your hand over your mouth and hid your face behind your computer screen trying not to disrupt the class. The boy seemed to be just as amused at his own jokes.

My name’s Jin he typed out we should sit next to each other more often :)

Jimin

Front row right in front of the board, that was where I always sat. It wasn’t cause I was short or I had trouble seeing. No, no it definitely wasn’t that. My grades just couldn't be what they are if I was sitting back any farther. I took out my notebook like usual and opened it to where we left off. Sketches and doodles adorned the pages amongst poorly written notes and messy handwriting. The seat next to me always sat empty, always. It sat up against the wall and the professor’s computer setup was right in front of it. It was a very undesirable seat. It was almost impossible to see the whole board. The clock hit the hour and the professor began to get ready. Suddenly from the back of the class a girl walked in, she quickly walked up the front of the room and handed the professor a note. I had never seen her before. If I had I’d remember, she was gorgeous.

“Welcome to the class Miss y/n.” The professor looked around the classroom. “Jimin.” I looked up from my notes.

“Yes professor?”

“The seat next to you is usually vacant, y/n will be sitting next to you from now on. Please help her catch up with notes or anything else she may need.”

“O-okay.” I said. My pulse sped up and my hand felt a little sweaty. She took a seat next to me, I smiled at her.

“Sorry you got stuck with me, I hope you didn’t mind getting volunteered like that. I’m y/n.” She said apologetically.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” She took out her notebook which was covered in artwork. Much like the art that covered my own. “I think this will work out just fine.”

Taehyung

“Pleaseee tell me you watched the new episode last night.” Taehyung begged of you as you went to take your seat next to his.

“Tae, we had a ten page paper due today.” You rolled your eyes at him. “And you know your girl waited until last night to write it, so no I did not get to watch it.”

“Ehhh ten pages is nothing y/n. In fact I wrote it while watching.” He said clearly proud of himself.

“Well not all of us can multitask like you do.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Well it’s a good thing you have me then cause your gonna watch it now whether you like it or not. Don’t worry I’ll take notes for the both of us.” He winked at you. Your cheeks turned a little pink at his gesture.

“Tae no offense but your notes never make sense to anyone but you.”

“Pleaseeeee.” He looked at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, I’ll watch but you have to make your handwriting legible.” You caved, he was too cute for his own good.

“Deal!” He said already placing his laptop in front of you.

Yoongi

Gym class was the worst. Why you even had to take a gym class as a college student was beyond you. Sports were not your thing, the only hand eye coordination you had was with a gaming controller and even that was subpar. Today’s torture, basketball. Had you ever made a basket before? Nope. Was today gonna change that probably not. You opted to stay off to the side bouncing the ball to make it look like you were participating. You looked over at all the other kids in your class. One of them being Min Yoongi. He was a quiet kid kept mostly to himself except for a few close friends. Surprisingly he was doing really well playing against other students much taller than him. When class was over you decided to hang back for a moment, you weren’t sure why, but you stood in front of one of the baskets.

“What are you doing?” A voice came from behind you. You turned around startled. It was Yoongi. “I saw you during class today, standing by yourself, you looked like you didn’t even want to touch the ball.”

“I uh, sports really aren’t my thing.” You looked at your feet.

“You want me to show you how?”

“What?” You looked up at him.

“How to shoot dummy.” He smirked. “Here.” He placed the ball in your hands and showed you where to hold it. He moved you a little closer to the hoop for safe measure and demonstrated what you should do. It took a few tries, but eventually the ball made it into the hoop.

“See? You’re not that bad.” He flashed you a quick gummy smile. “Let me know if you need help with anything else.” He said leaving just as quietly as he came in.

Hoseok

“Hey there good looking.” Hoseok said as you sat down next to him.

“Oh hush.” You say back lightly hitting him. “I can’t believe I have to sit next to you in another class.” You shook your head.

“Your so mean to me.” He gasped, hand grasping his chest. “Too bad you love me too much.”

“Yeah too bad.” You rolled your eyes. Hoseok was in a few of your classes. Though to the outside eye it might look like there’s bad blood between you two he was one of your closest friends and you were happy he had to suffer through all this with you. He made class actually somewhat interesting, mostly by never shutting up and talking to you the whole time, mostly through text. Professors hated him because even though he never paid attention he always answered their questions correctly. It was a superpower.

“So you admit it you do love me!” He said hugging you.

“Get off me loser.” You said pushing him off you. A few minutes after class started your phone buzzed.

For real tho you look amazing today ❤️

[missnight0wl]

Professor Rakepick’s trust issues

You can call it a theory, a character analysis, or maybe it’s just some ramblings. Either way, let’s talk about Rakepick, shall we? I mostly want to discuss two things that, in my opinion, are rather important for her persona - Rakepick as a teacher and her attitude towards people in general. Warning: spoilers up to Y5Ch19. Also, quite a lot of screenshots.

One of the things that Patricia Rakepick is really good at is being a mentor. She can very easily see potential in students, and she can lead them. Bill Weasley is a quite obvious example of that, but the one I find particularly interesting is actually Jae Kim. Rakepick quickly noticed that he can be better in his business and decided to take care of him. Sure, it is kinda questionable since a teacher shouldn’t really support that sort of activities, but… it’s Rakepick. She doesn’t judge morals, but she does care whether or not her students will be safe. When Jae asked her why he’s at the Training Grounds with MC, Bill, and Merula, Patricia was almost offended by that. Like, “Boy, I’m your professor so it’s my responsibility to prepare you for defence, duh”. She’s also quite engaged in her teaching, referring a lot to her experience.

Sure, she is a bit boastful in the process, but I suppose it’s just her nature at this point. It’s not like she doesn’t have good reasons for that. And while she might sometimes be intimidating...

... students generally like her - and not only Bill and Tonks (who interestingly are two canon characters we know are on the good side).

Now, I can hear some of you saying: there was once a DADA professor who was experienced and liked by students - and it was Barty Crouch Jr. under the Polyjuice Potion. But there are two things about Rakepick to take into consideration here. One, her position is not her cover. It’s official that she’s at Hogwarts mainly because of the Cursed Vaults, so I feel like there’s really no need for her (other than her ambition) to put into teaching more than the minimum requirement. And the second thing, she’s damn proud of her new job.

You know what I really enjoy in the relationship between Rakepick and Mundungus (besides that it’s mysterious and creates some interesting speculations, mainly about their involvement with Jacob)? He calls her by her first name. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure he’s the only character in the game we see calling her simply Patricia. It’s usually Rakepick, Madam Rakepick, Professor Rakepick, or alternatively her full name (I’m not suggesting that nobody else calls her by her first name - it seems to be a common practice among teachers, for example - but I believe we don’t see it on-screen). It caught my attention not only because it occurs so rarely, but also because it’s kind of a way of shortening a distance between people. It almost feels weird to me that Dung’s allowing himself for that, considering how scared of her he usually is. But Rakepick actually doesn’t care. In fact, she hardly ever cares how others address her. There were moments where MC simply called her Rakepick:

... and she still didn’t really give a damn. If I remember accurately, she paid attention to that only in two cases. The first one, when she informs MC that she accepted the offer for DADA position:

... which isn’t that weird, you know, she simply took the opportunity to deliver the news. But then there’s that second time in Knockturn Alley:

Now, why the hell do you think those leeches care that you’re a professor, Patricia? I mean, it’s not like it’s gonna impress them much, not really. Rakepick has already strong reputation, wizards in Knockturn Alley fear her. I don’t think that Hogwarts’ prestige means much to them, especially in comparison. Moreover, I assume it doesn’t matter that much to Rakepick herself. Sure, she said at the beginning of year 5 that she came back because Hogwarts needs her more than Gringotts, but I imagine it’s more about sentiment for a place where young people learn, than respect for the institution. Most of the teachers don’t like her, and it’s probably mutual (since they didn’t believe her about the Cursed Vaults when she was a student - I  wouldn’t be surprised if she sees them as ignorant or something), and she doesn’t really bother to show respect for Dumbledore either (I mean, she’s not really disrespectful, but she was suggesting that she’s using his office without permission, for example). Yet, she felt at that moment that it’s important to stress out this title. Why? Because she enjoys it so much, and it’s important to her.

So to sum up the first part: Rakepick is a great teacher who enjoys her job, and she is appreciated by her students. But... she’s not exactly someone you’d describe as “a people person”. And it’s fine, it happens: you don’t need to be a social butterfly to be a good educator. Patricia herself even claims that communication and empathy have never been her strengths. Yet something doesn’t feel right to me. She is very charismatic, Snape also told us that she was “beloved by nearly all of her classmates” - which, to be fair, probably had a lot to do with her being a rebellious student (therefore entertaining one), but still... I don’t think the problem is about her social skills. I suppose it’s rather that she doesn’t want people to like her because she doesn’t like them in the first place. Most importantly, she doesn’t trust them.

... which again, isn’t that strange, considering her lifestyle. I mean, she deals with dark wizards etc. all the time so you could say she’s simply reasonable. 

However.

There’s an interesting part in our first conversation with Rakepick back in year 4. When she asks MC if they’ll help her with the Cursed Vaults, and we choose the option to agree (instead of challenging her), this is how the dialogue goes:

MC: I’ll help you find the vaults by doing what I did to find the last two myself. You just need to promise not to interfere.

Madam Rakepick: I try not to make promises. They are much easier to break than curses.

And you know how many promises start? “I will never... (do this/hurt you etc.)”

Patricia Rakepick was betrayed by someone close to her, and it was serious. You can’t convince me otherwise. It actually explains why she was so annoyed by MC wasting time on catching up with their classmates, and even told us that she considers Rowan as “a person of interest” in the context of R. She tries to teach that dumb-ass kid that even a friend can put a knife in your back because she knows it from experience. 

Alternatively, I guess it’s also possible that she was the one “forced” to break a promise, and it still would make sense, but... the first option just seems more interesting to me.

PS I actually wrote it all before seeing deleted information from Y5Ch16 about Severus allegedly betraying Patricia. However, I’m not sure it could fit the case I described. Judging by their interactions, Rakepick might be pissed off by Snape’s betrayal, but I somehow doubt it’d qualify as “life-philosophy-changing”. I could be wrong though.

[braverytaught]

☯ + a Snape-shaped hole in the window.

send a canon scene for me to write from minerva’s perspective || accepting? i guess?

     Minerva’s mind is reeling.

     Her body is moving with calm purpose. This is a skill she has developed over many, many years as a professor and, dare she say it, occasional fighter – the ability to let a veneer of businesslike practicality run the show even when her brain is scrambling to catch up. She’s marching swiftly down the corridors, and to anyone else’s eye she would look like a solitary figure roused from her bed, still in her dressing gown. But she is keenly aware of the invisible footsteps pattering along behind her as she descends Ravenclaw tower and hurries through the castle.

     She had not been sleeping, before Amycus’s yelling had drawn her from her quarters to investigate. How could she? After Terry Boot’s outburst about Potter and dragons at dinner, after the terse orders Snape and his pet Death Eaters had given to the rest of the staff, their manner somewhere between frightened and excited, warning them not to speak with the students…They were expecting something, clearly. Whether it had to do with Potter or not, whether those rumors about the dragon had any truth or not, Minerva didn’t know – but she could not rest on a night when Death Eaters were feeling anticipatory.

     And yet the last thing she had expected was to have two fugitive teenagers trotting invisible at her heels, planning to make a stand against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself. The last thing she expected was to be planning siege tactics in her head, composing a list of the best defensive spells they can muster as her Patronuses streak away to tell Pomona, Filius, and Horace to prepare to fight.

     To prepare to fight.

     Even as alarm and fear hastens her footsteps, even as her body aches from the abuse it has taken over the past year, the thought puts a steel strength in her step, a fresh elation of defiance. She did not expect this. She did not dare hope or fear for it on this night. But she is ready for it. If this is truly the day when all things come to a head, if Potter says that his mission here is important enough to risk the wrath of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in person, then she is ready to put herself between them.

     She is ready to take her home back.

     A sound. A faint footstep apart from the invisible ones just behind her. Minerva draws in her breath as she draws out her wand, falling without thought into a dueling stance. “Who’s there?”

     “It is I.” And Severus Snape’s dark eyes glitter in the light from her wand as he steps out from behind a suit of armor.

     Minerva meets his gaze, and feels the usual swoop of cold anger in her gut. Unlike her, he is not in nightclothes; clearly he’s been ready and waiting for something to happen. His eyes bore into her, and she closes her mind at once, putting up the Occlumantic walls she’d learned to build long ago, during the first war. She is no great Occlumens, but she can put up enough resistance to make him work for it. There was a time I never hid my mind from you, Severus, she thinks bitterly.

     “Where are the Carrows?”

     “Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus,” she says with icy politeness. She does not lower her wand. Somewhere behind her are Potter and Lovegood; she prays they have the sense to stay silent.

     But Severus, keen as always, is glancing around the corridor as if trying to sense the presence of the Cloak. Can you read a mind you cannot see, if you suspect it is there? she wonders suddenly. But no – Legilimency requires eye contact. Severus could discover Potter’s presence, but not without overt spellcasting. He only suspects; he cannot know.

     “I was under the impression that Alecto had apprehended an intruder.”

     “Really? And what gave you that impression?” But it’s a foolish question, as made clear as Severus flexes his arm slightly. Of course. He would have felt Alecto press her Mark, just as Amycus had – so he knows that, if Potter is not here, then Alecto at least believes him to be. 

     “Oh, but naturally.” Her voice drips with derision. “You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication, I forgot.”

     His eyes are still flittering about the air around her. At the very least that means he isn’t focusing on her mind, little comfort that it is. Look at me, you snake. She’d rather his focus be on her, distracted from his attempts to divine Potter’s presence. Again she prays he has the sense to stay still and silent. He’s never been good at holding back, as his stunt with Amycus back there proved –

     “I did not know it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva.”

     “You have some objection?” 

     “I wonder what could have brought you out of bed at this late hour?” How long, she wonders, will they keep up this dance they’ve been doing all year? Pretending at civility. Pretending that they do not hate each other. I will not forgive you, Severus, for earning my trust and then betraying it. All year, she has treated him with the greatest disdain she can muster, while still deferring to his station as headmaster. Barely. Enough to keep her in the castle. Enough to keep her post, even while she takes swipes at him where she can and blocks him at all possible turns. It has been a months-long game of cat and mouse – or cat and snake – and she is ready to drop the pretense.

     “I thought I heard a disturbance.” That is putting Amycus’s bellowing mildly.

     “Really? But all seems calm.”

     And now, now he is looking into her eyes, those black irises boring into hers, pressing against her walls. A skilled and delicate Legilimens such as Severus can slink into your mind without you ever knowing, but she is resisting, and so she can feel the weight of his magic beginning to drive itself through her defenses. She can resist, but she has never overstated her own power; Severus is a more skillful Legilimens than she is an Occlumens. If she stands here and does nothing, he will see Potter, not in the corridor behind her, but in her own mind.

     “Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist–”

     And she moves. Without warning, without hesitation, drawing on all her experience as a duelist, Minerva slashes her wand through the air, the spell a mere flash of intent in her mind. But he was prepared, of course – his Shield Charm blossoms with a force such that she feels the push of his magic scattering her own. 

     But she is already reacting. And in a terrible, visceral way, it feels good, meeting Severus’s narrowed eyes in the flamelight of the torch she pulls from its bracket. No more holding back her anger, her wrath. No more trying to protect her students with words or evasions or silent standoffs. No more watching her home and the people she loves suffer and wither under the brutal hand of a man she had once called an ally.

     Finally, he will feel the true heat of her fury.

     She sends the flames toward Severus in a lash of fire that he transforms into a serpent – of course a snake, does the man have no imagination – that she, quick as thought, dissipates into smoke, and she turns the smoke into knives, and this is why you should have paid attention in your lessons, Severus, because potions are revenge served cold, but this is what Transfiguration can do, it is precise and unforgiving and deadly, and she wields it like a master; her very wand is made for it.

     The daggers fly too fast for him to Vanish or Transfigure, and Minerva takes brutal satisfaction in watching him avoid them only by hiding behind a suit of armor. Your chest next time, she does not have time to think but rather intends. There are many things she does not have time to think, but they are there anyway, in the swiftness of her arm, in the magic crackling beneath her skin, in the fierce line of her lips. This is for my students and my friends. This is for betraying my trust. This is for Albus. This is for Hogwarts. 

     Filius’s voice squeaks out from behind her, but Minerva doesn’t break her gaze, doesn’t let any of her focus leave Severus Snape. She raises her wand again, preparing to Transfigure the very metal Severus is cowering behind, but Filius beats her to it, and she hastily dispels the building magic as his own takes over, animating the armor. But Severus wriggles out of it, as he does everything, and sends it flying back toward them. And he does not stay and fight, he does not stand – he flees, as he always does.

     Not this time.

     Minerva chases after him, her tall frame pushing her ahead of her colleagues, but she is not as fast as a man thirty years her junior, and he skids into a classroom before she can raise her wand to bind him. Always running, always sneaking, always choosing survival over morals, over principle, over everything but his own worthless hide – she enters the classroom just in time to see him dive through the window, and her Stunning Spell shoots through the broken glass, hitting nothing.

     “Coward!” she screams, and the hatred is raw in her throat, rage rasping against her vocal cords as she leans against the window frame to watch the dark shape speeding away into the night. “COWARD!” She knows it to be his least favorite word, the deepest insult one can wield against him, and she screams it in the hope that it will echo in his ears all the way off the grounds.

     Very well, she thinks with furious resolve as her colleagues catch up to her, peering out the window with exclamations of anger and dismay. Very well. Severus Snape has left the castle.

     She will make sure he never sets foot in it again.

[sumergosuigeneris]

January 26, 2019, Part I

Why on the days I have to get up early for work or school is it sooo hard to wake up, I’m sooo exhausted, but on the days I don’t have to get up early, I wake up early naturally?

I did a little research last night to see if there is some natural clerical promotion about executive assistant - it would make it easier than trying to get into project management titles. Damn if I didn’t come across an article from 2015 talking about the renaissance of EAs. That EAs to crazy important shit, get tons of responsibility, and are paid properly for it. That you could have an amazing/interesting career as an EA, and make mad money, depending on how you play it. That was surprising as shit to me, because that is NOT the paradigm I grew up in. And the article acknowledged that too - that there’s still a lot of stigma in the title. And that was the crux of it for me. Secretaries being seen by society as just typing up shit for people, low level stuff. And EAs, like senior secretaries, being mostly just senior people (been there a long time), who type shit and answer phones for senior leaders. Basically what I do now, except email and mostly for calendaring purposes. Very unfulfilling, but not the point. I thought that if you got to do cool shit, which I have gotten to do (in my last job, certainly not this one), you were doing things above the job description due to your individual talents, and that you certainly wouldn’t get paid for those talents. This tells me otherwise. That the things I thought were above and beyond for secretaries and EAs *can* be within the job description, but NOT unreasonably - you can get paid well. It certainly explains why they require bachelors and sometimes master’s for certain positions.The stigma of the titles are still there, but more and more people are respecting what clerical workers are able to do, have always been able to do (probably). And well, money is a huge factor in respect. When you respect what people do, you pay them more. But also, when you pay someone a lot of money, you (at least before you get to know the individual) assume they are highly values and thus treat them with respect. This is a bit of a game-changer for me. Certainly fucks with my paradigm.

Reminds me of how even the advice I used to give people in undergrad is out of date now, even though I graduated just a few years ago. It’s an important lesson/reminder. You could be the shit - knowing everything about something, being very experienced in it. BUT, if you don’t keep up with trends and changes, at least informationally, you can quickly become out of touch. That’ll either make you a dinosaur or seem like a dinosaur. Both are terrible, and really have significant qualities into how someone sees you, now and in the future. It’s bad if you are a dinosaur, but worse if you’re not a dinosaur but for a brief moment (until your course correction is identified and completed) you seem like one.

I think it’s a good reason for switching jobs, switching companies, and even switching industries. Just because one department or company or industry has a certain culture, doesn’t mean it carries beyond its particular boundaries.

Huh. I’d really only thought one had to keep up with certain types of knowledge. Like, in science you *have* to read journals, go to conferences and talks, to keep up with the latest. In business, you have to do marketing research, focus groups, etc... to keep up with what consumers want, etc... I never really thought about work cultures. Certainly not seriously. And I guess I owe it all to the changes in my undergrad institution. I’m used to higher ed moving relatively slowly. So to find out my sucky institution might actually make changes temporally close to when I used to complain about things. That was shocking. And hard to wrap my head around lol. As I’ve been going on, I’ve not kept up with them, at all in the last 6 months at least. I don’t think they’re magically a Good School in the 3? years since I graduated. But I suspect that individual departments or programs are better. I mean, I was shocked and vindicated to learn the chemistry department instituted some of my programmatic ‘suggestions’ within a year or two of my not taking classes with them. Some of my suggestions were critically assessing issues within the department with various faculty. Some were programs I created within the chemistry club (which that douche bag destroyed within 30 days of me not being the president). The point is, they heard me, and as soon as they could reasonably deny they were my ideas, the instituted them, and made them at least semi-permanent. That’s huge win. Not just for me, or for the students those improvements are helping. But it means that some of the existing faculty aren’t completely terrible at the teacher part of being a professor, and are willing still to acknowledge they can do things to improve. That also means, and maybe I’m extrapolating here, but it also means the old farts are willing to make space at the table for new faculty. Oh, that’s a good point too. The Chem dept, along with a number of other depts, had a significant % of faculty in retirement range. New blood, especially in bulk, really helps jump-start change. Note: it’s not just the quality of faculty/administrators at my undergrad that stifled innovation and change. It’s a significant variable that must be acknowledged - lack of money. And the lack of money isn’t just due to the quality of faculty/administrators at my undergrad. It goes back to that systemic issue of higher ed. How we pay for it, and how that paradigm as changed and/or hardened over that last few decades. That paradigm rewards success, gives money to those who already have it, etc... Sound familiar?

If we gave money to those who need it, gave money to help people/programs get off the ground, we’d a) have better ROI over time, and b) have a shit ton of excellent colleges and universities, instead of the relative handful we have (last time I checked there were over 4000 colleges and universities in the US, can’t remember if that includes community colleges, or if that even really matters), and c) have a much better educated populace in the aggregate. Et cetera, et cetera.

It’s a reason I love Francis Collins. He’s implemented changes in how the NIH funds junior vs. senior researchers. It’s obnoxious that a faculty member with a 60 person lab, and a shit ton of top research grants could continue to get more funding for more projects, but the first year assistant professor can’t even get a little grant. Grateful he’s changing that. And other changes are happening too. But again, those changes are relatively slow to spread.

Anyway, not sure how I got onto this long ass post. Last night, I was wondering why I even write this anymore. Is it even helping my mental health anymore? Is it even making me feel more connected and less lonely anymore?

[jaemtens]

Rescue (Chapter 2)

seventeen | junhao | side meanie / vernkwan | chapter 2 of 10 | 8.2k

tumblr links: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 ao3 links: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

written with @bulletproof-bad-wolf | updates every saturday morning

summary:  When Soonyoung finally “agrees” to let Junhui get a dog for their apartment, he realizes that he needed something a little bit more than a puppy. Enter Minghao, the bona fide Bad Boy™ with tattoos and piercings. Oh, and he doodles puppies and kittens in their Probability and Confirmation class.

chapter 2: minghao

Screw that appointment with his college counselor -- he didn’t need to waste his time talking with Choi Seungcheol for the umpteenth time this semester. It wasn’t like his college counselor actually cared about him; the suave, faux-soothing voice Seungcheol liked to use during their “appointments” was just a ruse. Seungcheol probably just used them to stroke his ego, to make himself feel good that he was helping a troubled kid get through college and life in general. It probably made him feel like he was really making a difference in the world because he got a certified Loser like Xu Minghao to enroll at their prestigious top-tier institution. Minghao was already imagining their next admissions brochure: “If this Loser turned it around, so can you!” said the speech bubble next to Minghao’s half-smiling Generic College Student pose.

Minghao took a left, shuffling through the crowded crosswalk.

Screw Probability and Confirmation for being the biggest waste of his time ever. After the second class of the professor droning on and on and on about capital E Existentialism and John Locke, he lost total interest in paying attention to the lectures. He was 110% sure he could literally put anything on his written exams, and the professor would think that it was “insightful” and “profound,” to use his favorite philosophy buzzwords. This, despite the fact that his written exam would probably be 110% word vomit with those precise buzzwords.

He practically walked through some random dude, his shoulder pushing the other guy aside. He took a right.

It wasn’t like he didn’t write anything down during class. No, he had a half-page of semi-coherent notes with multiple words triply-underlined, probably because he heard the prof repeat them at least seventeen times. How do you even take notes in a philosophy class? Half of the lecture slides are just random pictures of random bronze statues of random Greek dudes who had some random ideas that they wrote in a random book 2000 years ago. The class was randomly structured with a nonsensical syllabus that emphasized random discussions that the same two students participated in with no goddamn end in sight every class. He learned more by doodling cats from the shelter.

Minghao swung another left, ignoring the senile-looking old dude playing harmonica on the street corner. No, he didn’t have any money, he thought, clutching the two dollars in his pocket.

And, most of all, screw Wen Junhui for existing. Of all the people who he could run into after class in a desolate hallway, it had to be Wen Junhui. Of all the people who could know about his lame-ass doodles, it had to be Wen Junhui. Of all the people who could invite him over to their apartment, it had to be Wen Junhui. And of course he did all of that while be the biggest freaking dork ever. It was Too. Goddamn. Cute.

He tapped his foot waiting for the next light to change. Minghao was impatient, but he didn’t know why.

Yes, you heard that right, random person tuning into Minghao’s inner monologue: Xu Minghao, the twenty year-old college student who wears leather jackets, has three tattoos, and five piercings, is in love with a twink like Wen Junhui. Are you surprised? He was too for about five minutes. When Jun walked into their first class together, he remembered actually perking up a little bit to check him out. He thought Junhui was so fucking cute with his sharp, bookish features, his messy raven-black hair, and his tall, lithe frame. Minghao was a master of playing it cool around people who caught his eye, but he knew deep down that he was seriously intrigued. Junhui ticked off all the boxes on the checklist entitled “Minghao’s Type.” It was only a matter of time before he fully admitted that Wen Junhui was half the reason he was distracted in Prob and Conf.

The light switched to green, and he crossed along with what seemed like the rest of humanity. He shoved his way to the right and switched directions yet again, his worn boots stomping down on puddles without much care.

So why did he snap at Jun? Why did he go against all of his feelings?

Minghao stopped again, staring down at one of the puddles. Nobody was around him -- it was quiet off of the main street.

He didn’t know. Half of him was so goddamn smitten. When Jun physically ran into him and immediately apologized even though it wasn’t his fault, when Jun stuttered in the cutest way possible, when Jun talked about how he liked his stupid little anime drawings -- god, Minghao just wanted to melt right then and there. But the other half of him knew it was fake. How did he know? He just knew, okay. It was inevitable. He knew that Jun didn’t actually like him, that Jun was just apologizing because he was scared of the weird guy with a bunch of piercings in his philosophy class, that Jun was just making fun of him when he talked about his chibi-kittens. He got so angry -- no, upset was the right word -- that he just wanted to walk away. He let his feelings flash in front of Jun, mostly just to push him away, He knew Junhui would hate the real Minghao, so he just made it easier for both of them: push him away before Jun learned too much about who he really was.

A single raindrop splashed in the puddle he was staring at, the ripples distorting his features. Shit, it was starting to rain. Minghao ran his hand through his dark hair, wondering where he was; he had been walking aimlessly for what seemed like an hour.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, recognizing where he was. He didn’t want to be here of all places; what if Jeonghan was here? He searched frantically, analyzing each street corner while licking his lips nervously. Swarms of people were coming and going along the main road, so it was hard to see. He crossed the street he was on to get a better look; Jeonghan had long blonde hair the last time he had seen him, but who knew what he looked like now. All he knew is that he did not want to talk to him today of all days. Giving up, Minghao ducked inside one of the convenience stores.

He licked his lips again, feeling out of place. Convenience stores were always a little overwhelming, so much crap packed into such a small space. He hated squeezing past people to get through the narrow aisles… everybody always gave him weird looks, and he would always just tut back, rolling his eyes. They were probably judging him because of his tattoos and piercings while they went about their boring day during their boring life. He normally hated normal people -- why did he like Jun then?

Ugh, focus, Minghao. Why did he go to the convenience store again? He jammed his hands into his pockets, immediately feeling the two dollars again. Oh, right: food. That’s why he was here despite his undying hatred of convenience stores. Luckily, it was pretty empty. He didn’t even need to go search for what he was looking for; why was he so worried? Why was he so on-edge?

He grabbed a Snickers bar and a pack of gum, shoving them toward the clerk at the counter, who scanned them both.

“Three dollars.”

Minghao reached into his pocket, pulling out only two.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Um, I’ll only take the candy bar, I guess.”

The clerk sighed. Apparently he didn’t get paid enough to deal with this. At least he was getting paid, Minghao thought to himself.

“Two dollars.”

Minghao shoved his cash down on the counter, grabbed his candy bar, and didn’t wait for the receipt before darting out of the store. He shoved the Snickers bar in his jacket pocket and checked his phone: 1:52. He only had eight minutes to make it to the shelter; Minghao knew he was going to be late. He threw his hood over his head, and ducked back into the crowds of people. Hopefully Dokyeom didn’t chew him out this time.

Why would Dokyeom chew him out? Dokyeom was literally the least confrontational person ever, and, honestly, it seemed like he was just happy to get the extra help at the shelter. Who cared if Minghao showed up ten minutes late -- he was a volunteer anyways. At least, that’s how he rationalized showing up late to himself.

Yes, Xu Minghao, the leather jacket-clad street-certified bad boy volunteered in his free time. Where, you might ask? At the pet shelter of course. Street trash was his name and cats and dogs were his game. His sidekick?

“Hao-hao, you’re late!”

Don’t even ask.

“Not today, Dino,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He knew he should have entered through the back -- the bell at the front was dead giveaway. Not that it would’ve mattered much anyways: Dino was going to annoy him eventually.

“Oh come on, Minghao,” Dino protested, shooting Minghao a fake-hurt look. “What if I told you I brought you ramen today?”

Minghao stopped. He thought about how hungry he was and how that Snickers bar wasn’t going to be enough. Dino liked to bring him food: at first, he used to refuse until Dino finally convinced him that it would be going to waste if Minghao didn’t eat it. He sighed, and Dino knew then that he had acquiesced, a big smile breaking across his face.

“Fine--”

“--Let me grab it, Hao-hao!” Dino interjected before Minghao could finish his long, exasperated concession. He shook his head while Dino abandoned the front counter, running back to his bag to grab what was now half of Minghao’s lunch. Snickers and instant ramen? He’d had sadder lunches, believe it or not. Or no lunch.

“Here you go,” Dino announced, putting the cup-ramen back on the counter.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he replied, ruffling Dino’s hair as he headed to the small employee “lounge” as they affectionately called it. “We can get started on our usual routine after I eat, okay?”

Dino nodded in response.

In reality, the “lounge” was no more than small round table with two chairs, a microwave, and a mini-fridge that no one but Dokyeom used. Minghao threw his ramen cup in the microwave and let it heat up for two minutes.

Their pet shelter certainly wasn’t one of the largest in the city, but it served its purpose. About two dozen dogs and cats called this shelter their temporary home. The obvious goal was that these cats and dogs would be adopted, or, more accurately, rescued, by a loving and caring owner. Of course, practically that didn’t always happen. Minghao formed connections with most of the adoptable cats and dogs, serving as their primary day-to-day caregiver aside from Dokyeom. Dokyeom was technically his boss as the only employee of the shelter who was actually paid; he was a mix between an administrator, who managed the day-to-day paperwork and things like that, and also a vet tech, who could perform basic check-ups for the days when the actual vet wasn’t in. Minghao was a senior volunteer, devoting lots of hours at the shelter. It was like his home. Volunteer was a bit of a misnomer too -- Dokyeom did pay him a little each month, just not nearly at minimum wage. It was an arrangement that Minghao was okay with, considering how much he worked here. Finally, Dino was the newest volunteer; Minghao and Dokyeom had just finished formally training him. They were quite the team: Dokyeom was quiet, supremely qualified, and a little mopey, Dino was bright, enthusiastic, and sunshine-y, and Minghao? Well, Minghao was Minghao. Jaded and a bit sarcastic around people, but soft and caring with the two-dozen pets under his care.

The microwave started obnoxiously beeping, signaling that his food was done. He carefully removed the ramen cup, fished out a plastic spork, and took his Snickers out from his jacket pocket. Bon appetit: gourmet meals by Minghao in two minutes.

Dino must have been distracted with something else because usually he bothered him 24/7 once he walked in the door.

“Hao-hao!”

-- he spoke too soon.

“How was your day? How was class?” Dino was standing in the doorway to the lounge, halfway between the employees-only area and the front desk.

“Boring,” Minghao replied. He fished out a spoonful of ramen, blowing on the noodles to cool them down.

“You always say that!”

Minghao shoved the ramen into his mouth and started talking while chewing: “Because class is always boring.”

“C’mon, Hao-hao. Something interesting must’ve happened,” Dino insisted, not missing a beat.

Minghao scooped out another spoonful of ramen. He thought about his encounter with Junhui earlier, made a face, and then decided to lie.

“Literally nothing interesting happened, Dino.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?”

Minghao swallowed. “Well, now that I think about it…” he started, watching Dino’s eyes light up in anticipation, “I did run into this annoying kid at the shelter who wouldn’t leave me alone during lunch…”

Dino frowned. “Not funny, Hao-hao.”

Minghao just smirked in response, going for more ramen.

“You’re literally the most interesting person I know, how can nothing ever happen in your life?”

Minghao? Interesting? He scoffed in response. “You only see me on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when I have Prob and Conf. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are more interesting,” he explained.

“Okay, well what happened yesterday?”

“Got an A on my dance practical.”

“Really? That’s great! Good job, Hao-hao!” Dino held up his left hand for a high-five. Minghao was still in the middle of eating, but he decided to humor his friend, fist-bumping Dino’s open palm while slurping down his last spoonful of noodles. Dino just made an amused face in response.

“It’s not that impressive,” he elaborated, tossing his spork in the empty ramen cup. “They’re starting us off with real basic stuff, and I wish they’d just move onto harder things already. I get that this class is a pre-req or whatever, but come on.”

“I’m--”

Before Dino could start saying much, the bell at the front rang, meaning someone (Dino) had to take care of it.

“You got it?” Minghao half-asked, half-suggested, waving his Snickers bar at Dino.

“Yeah!”

Dino disappeared back to the front desk, leaving Minghao to eat his Snickers in peace. Still, he listened in, half-concerned that it might be something that Dino wasn’t comfortable handling on his own. He unwrapped the candy bar took a large bite, demolishing the first-third of the Snickers.

“How can I help you?” he heard Dino say from the front.

He took another bite. So far, so good. He could hear the customer respond, but he couldn’t make out the words. It sounded like a guy, though.

“I’m sorry, sir, we only work with cats and dogs.”

Minghao rolled his eyes. Did someone bring in their pet hamster again?

“You talked to Dokyeom about it this morning?”

He definitely did not, Minghao thought to himself. This was going to get out of hand; Dino was too nice, he wasn’t going to turn the visitor away like he was supposed to. Minghao left his candy bar on the table and headed to the front desk; he was so ready to turn this random dude and his hamster away.

“Dino, what’s going on?” he asked, standing next to his shorter friend at the front desk. He sized up the guy who Dino was dealing with. He couldn’t be much older than either him or Dokyeom, and he was holding an opaque pet carrier that was far too small for either a cat or a dog.

“Um, he says that Dokyeom agreed to see his chinchilla.”

He made a face -- oh, even better than a hamster.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Minghao muttered.

“Look,” the other boy started, his voice a good octave below either Minghao or Dino’s, “I swear I talked to Dokyeom this morning, and he agreed to look at Buttercup.”

“Its name is Buttercup?”

“Her name is Buttercup,” the boy corrected.

“Look, buddy, we only work with cats and dogs here. I can give you the phone number and address for our vet runs an animal clinic downtow--”

“--Hansol?” Dokyeom interrupted from behind them. Minghao and Dino spun around at the same time; apparently Dino was equally shocked that Dokyeom agreed to see a chinchilla, of all things.

“You know this dude?” Minghao asked.

“Yeah, we spoke on the phone this morning,” Dokyeom explained, shifting his focus back to Hansol. “And I’m guessing this is Buttercup? Come on back.”

Hansol nervously smiled in response, and Minghao turned back toward Dokyeom. “Since when did we start seeing chinchillas, DK?”

“Right in here,” Dokyeom said, directing Hansol and Buttercup into the small examination room. Minghao’s de facto boss then turned his attention back to him: “Look, he couldn’t afford to go to the vet, and he sounded really worried.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even know how to spell chinchilla, not to mention medically examining one,” Minghao protested.

“C-H-I-N-C-H-I-L-A,” Dokyeom spelled, “and I’m taking a night class on rodent health this semester, Hao.” With that, Dokyeom turned around, heading to the examination room that Hansol and Buttercup were in.

“It’s two L’s, dumbass!” Minghao called out just as Dokyeom closed the door. Minghao shook his head and turned his attention to Dino: “I swear to god,” he complained.

Dino just smirked in response. “I’ll start tidying up the front while you finish your candy bar?”

“Oh, shit.” He ran back to the lounge, shoved the last third of the candy bar in his mouth, and threw out the candy wrapper, ramen cup, and spork before returning to the front. Dino had already moved onto tidying up the front area of the shelter, which doubled as a waiting room and play area. The couches were a little worn and had several tears on the cushions, but it was expected when you think about just how many meet-and-greets they facilitated in the front. Every time a visitor wanted to adopt a pet, they would have to sign in with the front and wait until either Minghao or Dino brought out the dog or cat they were interested in. They had cat toys in one bin and dog toys in another, and it was their job to supervise the adopter-adoptee interaction. Minghao explained it to Dino like this: it was as much about how the pet fit the adopter as the how the adopter fit the pet. Minghao and Dino were there to be the rescue’s advocate, to make sure that they wouldn’t just end up right back in the shelter because the adopter was a poor match. Minghao was perhaps the fiercest advocate. He hated having dogs and cats at the rescue longer than they needed to be there, but he thought it was even worse for a rescue to get a taste of rescued life just to return back to the gutter of shelter life -- or, even worse -- street life. It was heartbreaking. At least he and Dino could take care of them to the best of their ability.

By the time Minghao got back to the front, Dino had already picked up most of the toys and returned them to their respective baskets. Minghao picked up some of the worn-out pillows that were strewn about the floor… Dokyeom must’ve had a lot going on this morning.

“Cats first?”

Dino nodded in response, and they went to the back of the shelter together.

“I’ll do social first,” Minghao announced. Dino nodded again.

It was so much easier when they had two people to work the cat room: one was the “social,” or the person who handled the cats, and the other was the “cleaner,” or the person who replaced the litter and refilled the water and food. Minghao was going to be the social first, which was arguably the better job. It was essentially five minutes of cat handling -- times six, until they switched. Usually they went smoothly.

Usually.

Minghao removed the first cat, a black-and-white tuxedo, and cradled her in his arms. She was dying for attention, pawing at Minghao’s face. Dino chuckled, dumping out the old litter into a waste bag. He pulled out the bag of fresh litter, and he refilled the mini litter box. Dino then grabbed the gigantic 25-pound bag of food, starting to pour out kibble into the tuxedo’s food bowl. Just then, Minghao heard the bell in the front ring, and he looked at Dino. Without missing a beat, the younger boy shoved the heavy bag of food into Minghao’s free hand and disappeared to go take care of the visitor at the front desk. Minghao wasn’t weak, but Dino gave him the bag at a weird angle, and he was forced to let it fall to the ground. Kibble spilled out everywhere, all of the cats were meowing, the tuxedo squirmed her way out of his arms -- it was a total mess.

“Why didn’t you put it on the ground, Dino,” Minghao muttered, massaging his temples. “No-no-no, don’t go for the kibble on the floor.”

The tuxedo was going straight for the kibble, the rest of the cats meowing up a storm. Minghao groaned, quickly picking up the tuxedo and throwing her in her cage. “One moment,” he whispered.

Minghao started scooping kibble up off of the ground, crouched over with the waste bag at his side.

“What happened here?” Dino asked from behind him.

Minghao sighed again. “You happened.”

They made it to through the rest of the cats without incident (Dino was a little more timid with them, having been scratched one too many times), though Dino was reluctant to put away his last furry friend. She was the friendliest of the bunch and loved to nuzzle up her face into Dino’s while he was holding her. Honestly? It made Minghao so happy to have someone else around who loved cats and dogs as much as he did. He may have been all tattoos and piercings on the outside, but he was a big softie on the inside. Dino put his last friend back in her cage once Minghao was done cleaning and refilling the food and water.

“I have to go study tonight, Hao-hao,” Dino announced, checking his phone. “I have an exam in two days, and I’m not ready for it.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll take care of the rest,” Minghao replied. “Good luck if I don’t see you before then?”

Dino smiled in response, his eyes forming into little crescents. Dino went back to the lounge to grab his belongings, but not before pushing Minghao’s buttons: “You’re cute when you care, Minghao.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Minghao waved him off dismissively, turning his attention to the dogs. Before he could even get to the first one, her tail wagging in anticipation, he heard the bell ring at the front. “Already?” he murmured to himself.

“One moment!” he hollered to the front. He brushed off all the cat hair on his jacket and pants before moving out front where he could help who he hoped would be the last visitor of the day.

“Hey, how can I help yo…” His voice started trailing off as soon as he realized who he was talking to. “Junhui?”

“Minghao?”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, moving behind the front desk. Was he actually here to adopt? Or did he find out where Minghao spent most of his free time? How much did Junhui know about him?

“W-what are you doing here?”

Junhui seemed genuinely confused to see Minghao here, so maybe he really was just here to adopt?

“I asked first,” Minghao retorted. He kept his facial expression steady while Junhui just stood near the front door, seemingly still in shock.

“I… I was dropping off… an application. I wanted to a-adopt.”

“Hmmph,” Minghao replied. “I can take it.”

“O-oh, yeah, just give me a sec,” the taller boy murmured, putting his messenger bag down on one of the coffee tables near the couches.

Why?

Why here? Why now? Why him, of all people?

Why did Junhui have to be so goddamn cute all the time!? The way he stammered out responses, the way he fumbled through his bag looking for his application, the way he always seemed so nervous around Minghao… it was too much. He just wanted to scoop Jun up into a hug and not let go -- sure, Junhui might have been taller (and older, too), but the way Junhui seemed to get so… timid? At least, he always seemed so unsure of himself around Minghao. Was that just how Junhui normally was? Or was Minghao special?

“Here you go,” Junhui said, interrupting Minghao’s train of thought. He was holding out his two-page application, and Minghao took it wordlessly. Looking through the app to make sure everything was filled out correctly, he couldn’t help but notice how… pretty Junhui’s handwriting was. It was free and elegant, just like how Junhui was when he walked through campus. Nothing like the Junhui right now, who stammered and stumbled through his words, sentences falling out in jumbles. Minghao set the paper down and looked up; Junhui looked away, like he had been watching him carefully before Minghao’s gaze met his. Maybe Junhui was just intimidated by him?

“Our administrator will look through this and call you once everything checks out. After that, you can come back and meet some potential rescues that we think match your application. Anything else?”

“You -- you never answered my question.”

“Hmm?”

“You work here?”

“Volunteer, actually,” he tersely corrected.

“Really?”

“Surprised?”

“Y-yeah, kinda.”

Minghao sighed. Yes, surprise-surprise, the boy with tattoos, piercings, and leather jackets who slept through class also doodles cats and works at a shelter five days a week. Even if Junhui thought he was cool when he was a bona fide bad boy, he surely just thought he was a total loser now that his façade was falling apart. Ha, you thought Xu Minghao rode a motorcycle to school and hadn’t cried in eight years? Joke’s on you, he plays with kittens every other day.

“Alright, well, if that’s it--”

“--Actually, I did have a question about my application…” Junhui interjected, this time looking directly at Minghao with his big brown eyes.

“Okay.”

“So, um, my apartment only allows me to have dogs that weigh under 30 pounds. Do you have any smaller dogs right now?”

Minghao ran through their current rescues in his head. He couldn’t help but start thinking about which of their current rescues would suit Junhui, which ones he would trust with someone like Junhui… which one would be happiest with Junhui.

“Yeah, I’d say we have at least three or four that are under 30 right now.”

Junhui just smiled in response. Minghao thought he was going to melt, but he couldn’t smile back. He knew Junhui was probably just being polite.

“Thank you for your help,” Junhui finally replied. “And I guess I’ll see you in class on Thursday?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Junhui just smiled again, grabbed his messenger bag from the coffee table, and exited without another word, leaving Minghao alone with two-dozen rescues and a whole lot of feelings. The one thought he couldn’t shake?

That he wasn’t good enough for Junhui.

[unhinged-diaries-blog]

Down another pound!

I don’t know what I’m doing but I really seem to have turned a corner. I woke up this morning and weighed myself and I lost another pound. I know what I’m doing by not watching what I eat but at the same time watching what I eat but not necessarily counting the calories just winging it is not the healthiest.

Currently with my schedule I will wake up in the morning, get a ride to the bus stop at stop for Starbucks. I will usually have a Venti acai strawberry refresher, depending if I’m hungry or not I may have a breakfast sandwich and I go with the lowest calorie count which is about 200 give or take for a egg whites, bacon sandwich and that will get me through until 2 PM.

After I eat I wait at least 30 minutes before I start drinking water again but now I still eat so slow that really I drink water in our later. I haven’t had a protein shake in a week and a half and I know we need to get back on the wagon. This is the first time all week i’ve had coffee made it home and I added not creamer but cashew protein milk and sugar because even though I do have Splenda fuck that splenda is gross.

For lunch I packed 2 1/2 ounces of Turkey pastrami, and ounce of strawberries and a cookie because I’m definitely going to need sugar and in the office I’m at I don’t have a car and there’s no way I’m gonna be walking 10 minutes away just to get something to drink and then 10 minutes back so basically a lunch.

When in reality I have lunch in the office. I know I’m going to get to work early and as long as I do my job he really doesn’t care he’s so relaxed and that’s what I love most about this job. I skip school today because I was exhausted. I did not fall asleep until 23:59 last night but I think in reality I didn’t fall asleep until 1 o’clock because all I heard was my dog whining because she was in her kennel, one of my cats trying to get into a closet which was pissing me off

I think I eventually fell back asleep until 630 were my husband kept asking me if I wanted a ride or if I was going to school and I’ve actually said fuck it I’m so tired I’m not going and I know I’m going to get docked off attendance points but at this point I really don’t give a fuck because I’m doing what I need to needs to be done, I’m taking photos and I will turn in the project that was due yesterday turned in today. A lot of the students didn’t take the photos needed for yesterday‘s Photo essay I took my photos on Sunday and I realize that a lot of students didn’t because who’s going to want to shoot with their camera for an hour when it’s 115° heat?

I sure shit will not do it and my professor is so relaxed about it that he is like basically we’re going to have to wait till it’s cooler which is awesome minutes south but I mean at the end of the day it sucks when you’re really needing shoot and certain students schedules like myself are so fucked up that the only time they didn’t have time to shoot is during sunset or early in the morning and I know for a fact I’m not gonna be shooting early in the morning waking up an hour heading to where I need to shoot for an hour and a half and then somehow catching a bus that will take me down the street to go to class for an hour and then having to go to work for five

that’s feasibly not possible especially after 730 is when the sun starts to rise and it gets extremely hot. I’m just really shocked over all with the sleeve it’s finally working the way I want it to work that I’m losing weight faster than when I was stalling over the last 3 1/2 months. I’m not upset by any means I’m just excited that my luck has finally really fucking tired because I needed this break so hard. Got a email from my boss last week my old boss and she asked me is there anything we can do to change your mind I’ve been sitting on it for days and I don’t even know what to say to her. What do you say to someone who treat you like a number in a place you work?

Do you say that pay per performance is bullshit and because of how you are in sales you get to go down to minimum wage? Do you say not thenwork itself it’s hard it’s the fact that you treated like we don’t matter, when we have legit questions and email the entire staff the entire coaching team no one gives us a fucking answer, when we have several terrible days are performance get stocked and are paid get stocked and the fact that I got dad to minimum wage is absolute bullshit and after three months of working there that’s when everything changed I went down from $10 an hour due to my performance and bad calls and the audit etc. to minimum-wage

that is not a living fucking wait especially when they know I’m a student, they know my schedule, and they know my limits. The email itself my boss said she didn’t want to lose me and I’m just thinking if you don’t want to lose people you should treat them better. If you don’t want to lose people management should be better and the entire structure should be better instead of going to the cycle that’s wrong did I did that wrong this is how I fix it

I wouldn’t say all that many call centers are you’re a number they won’t work with your schedule they don’t give a shit if you breathe or die as long as you keep the money coming in and follow their rules you basically get a keep your job but if you have a voice and say what we’re doing it wrong you’re the asshole and eventually get reprimanded for it this job is no future this job is a job you take when you have nothing else and you were forced to take this job to make money

I’ll probably sit in the email a couple more days before I really give her an email back. Things are great in the first three weeks I like this job, things were good until I saw the in tire Spectre my back. I saw how my buddy, R got fucked up his check and they took out almost $400 they over charged him, they don’t necessarily answer all emails and they are completely overwhelmed to where where we stand donors to validation nine times out of 10 we lose those donors

they’re tired of waiting and validation is taking so long that at one time I was waiting six minutes to get a pledge and to have a flight finished and who the fuck wants to wait six minutes on the phone trying to basically finish this transaction I fucking doubt I can see why donors are pissed and how you tell him multiple times not to call and they still won’t take you off the list but I guess at the game when it comes to donating anywhere

I think I just finally got tired of it so I talk to my friend and she had received my resume and sent it over to my current boss and he basically save me out of a bad position. I would’ve stayed with my old job until I just couldn’t take it anymore. It got to the point where after work I would be counting down the hours until I went to bed, and wondering how was going to make it through another day when I’m waking up early, and getting bad sleep, and I am hoping I get hit by a car because I feel my life is so bad at this point but that she dropped and things are a lot better

Now the next thing I’m waiting on is if I get excepted into this internship and I should know by this week. I really hope this goes through because I need this more than anything I have one more year of this and I am done with school for now I just need to keep on pushing and realize this is it going to last forever at least suck right now but you were so close to the fucking finish line it’s not funny and that’s what keeps going and that’s what keeps me going knowing I’m so close to finishing after seven years and struggling and death and toxic families and moving I’m finally here getting my bachelors and nobody can take that away from me. No one in my mediate family has her bachelors and I’m going to be the first want to do it and it’s not because I’m a woman but because I chose to put my career first had to take shit jobs and she keep going when I wanted to absolutely quit. I wanted to quit when my brother died being here all alone in Vegas with Noel family I wanted to in my life when my dad died because I thought my future but nothing without him, and now six years later I have a finally I finally have a future to look forward to and no one can take that away from me out of the bad days no matter things Zaidi no matter the depression I have a future in life I’m finally looking forward to

Happy Wednesday

[thejilyship]

Wishing you all a good evening

AN: Part 1 of who knows how many. I’m guessing that it will have four or five parts, but also, those are famous last words because I’m terrible at making things short. I’ve accomplished it once, but only once. We’ll see. 

WC: 6.3K

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | ff.net

UCL News didn’t have any particular ring to it. It didn’t garner a lot of attention and actually seemed to have the ability to make signs, newspapers or t-shirts invisible.

Lily Evans had been working in the UCL news department since she was a freshman, and three years later, she was one of the lead anchors on the cable access news program that ran from six to seven three evenings a week. She had first joined because her friend Mary had decided at the time that she really wanted to be a news anchor. But then Mary decided that maybe she wanted to be a zoologist and got a job at the local zoo, and Lily had already made friends and decided to stay. Working for the show awarded her credits. And she got paid. It was less than minimum wage, but still something.

When she’d first started school she hadn’t a clue what it was that she wanted to do. She was just sticking her toes in the water and peeking around and trying a little of everything. Now that she was a junior, she had long since declared a major. Digital Media seemed to be the smart choice given her utter fascination with the production of the show.

Over the last three years, she’d found that she very much enjoyed being in front of and behind the camera. She liked directing the cuts, she liked piecing together the stories and the clips that they added when they did more in-depth stories, she liked working on the writing, the editing; all of it really. And working for the station was a very low risk way to get experience. She heard from one of the professors who worked in the department that there were only about twelve people who regularly watched their news program. And Lily could guess which twelve professors remembered to tune in every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

“And that’s been the news,” Her co-host said with a brilliantly dazzling smile.

“We do have one more announcement to make however,” Lily said with a practiced lilt to her voice. Mary made fun of what she called Lily’s ‘television voice.’ But Lily knew that everyone who had ever been put in front of a camera screen in this news room had a different way of talking than when they were off screen.

“Yes, this is actually going to be my last broadcast,” His name was Michael and Lily had never really liked him, though she could appreciate that he had a certain presence about him. And that’s why he’d been picked up by a public news station that reached more than twelve people. “Starting Monday morning, you can find me working as a junior anchor over at Good Morning London.” She could hear how proud of himself he was, and she tried to remember that people were allowed to be proud of themselves, that he should be proud. He hadn’t even graduated yet and he was a junior anchor on a highly rated show.

“We’ll miss you around here, Michael.”

“Of course you will,” He said, which wasn’t what they had scripted, but Lily kept smiling. “I’m the best thing about this show.” Lily’s brows shot up a bit and then Michael laughed. “Only joking, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Thank you,” She said a bit more tersely. “Wishing you all a good evening, I’m Lily Evans.”

“And I’m Michael Diggory.” And then the red light went off and Lily pushed herself away from the desk.

“There was no need to be a dick, Diggory.”

“What does it matter, only twelve people saw it.” He rolled his eyes and started walking away. Lily wasn’t the only one that knew their show didn’t have a wide audience of course. It was a running joke among most of the members of the crew. But even if there were less than twenty people (out of the thirty thousand that to school at UCL) Lily still wanted to make sure that it went over perfectly. Or as close to perfectly as she could get it.

She pulled her hair up into a loose plait and started towards her ‘dressing room’ of sorts. It was actually just a closest that had all the jackets and blazers that the people who were going on air wore, but when she’d become an anchor and started staying later most nights to work on different pieces for the show, the space had just sort of become hers. Not officially of course, but Michael had always found it annoying that she had a designated space and he didn’t. He picked his backpack up off the couch that was behind the camera and left without saying much to anyone.

Lily sat down at her desk and pulled out a notebook, making a few notes that she could remember from the show, and then headed towards the breakroom to get a coffee before she sat down with Marlene McKinnon and Emmett Dackery to re-watch the show. It was Friday, and most people were going out, but that’s what Saturdays were for in her mind. Friday nights were spent working on and perfecting their show.

“It was a great run,” Marlene said, pulling her glasses down from her almost insanely bushy hair and pushing them up the bridge of her nose. “Apart from Michael being terrible that is.”

“I could probably catch up with him before he reaches his car and give his new viewers something to look at for Monday.” Emmett offered, though it was all in jest. Emmett was well over six feet tall, with a very large stature, but the only time he ever hurt anyone was when he was playing rugby.

“Oh please do it,” Marlene sighed, “I can’t stand him and his pompous attitude. He drives me nuts.”

“He’s a ponce.” Lily agreed, albite with a bit more vulgarity. “But he’s gone now.”

“He is gone now. Which means that we’re going to have to go through our last round of auditions on Sunday.”

“You couldn’t allow me a moment of reprieve?” Lily asked, sighing as she thought about the audition process to come.

“There is no reprieve when we only have one anchor.” Marlene pointed out.

“He was supposed to be here next week.” Lily muttered, pushing open a door at the end of the corridor that they’d been walking down and taking a seat in front of the computer. Their station wasn’t all that well funded, but they made due with what they had rather splendidly. Two cameras, one new computer, three older ones, a greenscreen (that had once been a world map, but Lily and Marlene had painted over it) and a few other odds and ends.

“I know, but now this was his last show and we’re going to have to find his replacement sooner.” Marlene ran a hand through her hair and then pulled up a wheelie chair next to Lily. Emmett did the same and the three of them proceeded to watch through their show, make notes of ways to improve and talk about their potential new anchor for their Monday show.

“You could just do it on your own until we find someone who fits.” Emmett suggested.

Lily shook her head, “I don’t think Professor Flitwick would like that. The point of the show is to give people an opportunity to try and if we waited for perfection he might intervene.” Normally their professor who was in charge of the students who ran the station was a hands-off kind of guy and Lily liked it that way. “Though you know, you could always be my co-anchor.” She grinned, leaning closer to him and giving him her best ‘oh-please-would-you’ smile.

Emmett shook his head and laughed. “You know that I can only be here during Friday and Monday’s shows. You need someone who can be here for all three shows.” Lily sighed and looked over at Marlene, though she’d be beating a dead horse if she asked again.

“Don’t look at me.” Marlene said in leu of answering the unasked question and Lily sighed.

“Alright, so you two are useless and I have no co-host.”

“There are people coming in on Sunday.”

“I know I know, but that’s the day before the first show we do in a post-Michael world.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair and pulling out her ponytail, only to put it back up again.  “And I’d like a bit more time to prepare-“ Just then there was a loud cheering that came from the main room down the hall.

“You think they put on the football game?” Marlene asked Emmett, since Lily had no interest in any of the school sports. Though she could be caught at a Rugby game supporting Emmett.

“They usually do.” He nodded, leaning back in his chair to try and hear what was going on.

“Five more minutes of footage and then I’ll release you.” Lily assured him with a smile.

“Five more minutes. You can have ten if you’d like.” He smirked, and Lily shook her head.

“Just five will do,” She jotted down another note, her page now entirely full of things to go over on their Sunday meeting. “I really am dreading Sunday.”

“I know,” Marlene said. “But I’ll bring you one of those donuts you like from that café by the river-“

“And I’ll be here.” Emmett winked, causing both girls to chuckled. He was a nice bloke, always flirting and causing a laugh.

“Well with donuts and Emmett, I should be able to get through anything.” Lily nodded, ex-ing out of the program now that they’d finished watching everything except Michael being a dick. Lily didn’t need to see that again.

“POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!” Came a cheer from down the hall and Emmett jumped to his feet.

“I love you both, but I have to go and see what’s happening.” He raced off and Lily and Marlene waved him off.

“You know, I think we should revamp the website.” Lily mused, adding another note to her paper.

“You suggest doing that at least once a month.”

“Well I don’t much like it.” She shrugged. “We’ll get it there though.” She grinned. “Do you have plans for tonight?” Marlene nodded.

“I do actually. Benjy and Bertram invited me to go to this ‘Art in the Dark’ thing over in Hyde Park. Apparently, everyone’s going to get high and draw with chalk all over the pavement.” She shrugged.

Lily laughed and nodded, “Sounds like something Mary would be into.”

“How is she anyway, I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She’s good,” Lily shrugged. “Busy. She’s pre-med now. I think this one will stick.”

“Oh.” Marlene put a hand over her heart. “Our little flower child is growing up.”

“You’re the flower child, Mary is more the wild child.”

“And what does that make you?” Marlene asked, standing up and reaching for her bag that she’d ditched in the corner of the room before the show started.

Lily pursed her lips and shrugged one of her shoulders. “I am and always have been the mum friend.” She said. “Don’t forget to drink water after you get drunk tonight and text me when you get home.”

Marlene chuckled and leaned over to kiss Lily’s cheek. “Will do love. You’re not just going home are you? Because you can come with me if you want.”

“Oh no, I have plans.”

“Library plans?” She asked, raising a brow.

“No, actual plans.” Lily said, though she remained vague since she didn’t actually have plans. Marlene accepted that Lily was not going to tell her whatever her plans are and left with a smile and promised to see her on Sunday. Lily took her time packing up, making sure that everything is in its proper place or turned off before locking up the ‘production room’ and heading back to the main stage. They used an old projector to watch the game on the wall where the green screen normally was. Every Friday they watched the games, and every Friday, Lily left before they were over.

She used to like football. It had been something she’d played as a kid and in secondary school and she’d gone to too many games to count with her dad. But then he died, and she lost interest.

She waved to a few people on her way out and then started towards the train station. She didn’t have a car, and didn’t care to have one. She didn’t think there was much use of a car while living in London. Especially as a student, when the furthest place she would have to go on a daily basis was normally within walking distance of her flat.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket as she reached the train station. She pulled it out and saw that she had four texts from Mary.

Mary: Don’t hate me.

Mary: Our fish is dead.

Mary: Also, we’re out of milk.

Mary: Also, I invited a few people over to watch the game.

There was about an hour in between the last three. Lily was a notoriously terrible texter. She couldn’t even blame it on the fact that she’d just been doing a show, because she could have been doing anything and the thought to check her phone just wouldn’t have dawned on her. Her phone was mainly used to call her mum and to make sure her drunk friends made it home alright.

Lily re-read Mary’s texts as she sat down on the train and narrowed her brow.

Lily: We don’t have a fish??

Lily: Also you’re lactose intolerant??

Mary: Okay well I found a dead fish in our flat. And my girlfriend is not and drank it all because she’s a twat

Lily: Well that raises some questions. And You really do know how to pick ‘em

Mary: Are you sure we didn’t have a fish? And you can’t be mean. At least I’m trying.

Lily: Positive. Ask your girlfriend about it.

Lily: I can be mean. It’s what I do best.

She put her phone back in her pocket and looked around the train. There weren’t many people on. Lily figured they had all already made it to where they wanted to go by now. All the students were at the game, or at a pub watching the game, or at someone’s flat watching the game. Or if you were friends with Marlene, you were getting high in a park to do chalk art. Lily hoped that Mary had invited some people that Lily knew.

oOoOoOo

Lily found herself crammed onto her sofa between Emmeline Vance (Mary’s twat girlfriend who actually wasn’t a twat, but a very nice girl who Lily actually liked quite a bit) and Dorcas Meadows. Hestia Jones was there, and Gwenog as well.  Lily was glad that Mary hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she’d invited a ‘few’ people over. She’d said that before and Lily had walked into a full-blown party. And they didn’t have room for that. But this was nice. She liked these girls.

“Jesus that boy is fit.” Hestia rested her chin on her palm and sighed longingly.

“Are you staring at Potter’s arse again?” Gwen asked, giving her cousin a look. “Because we’re going to see him tomorrow and I’ll tell him that you’re at it again.”

“Oh, come off it. You know he’s fit.” Hestia and Gwen both played football for the girl’s league. Apparently on Saturdays the boys and girls practiced together.

“Okay I won’t tell James, I’ll tell your boyfriend.” Gwen threatened.

Hestia sat up straight and leaned over to push Gwen off the couch. The older girl fell onto the floor and Lily laughed into her drink. “My boyfriend knows that James is fit. Everyone in the bloody school knows he’s fit.” She said indignantly, pushing herself to her feet.

“He’s not that fit.” Lily shrugged, and suddenly all eyes were on her. She sighed and pushed her way off the couch. “Okay he’s fit but he’s not as fit as everyone makes him out to be. Like there are bloke who are better looking. But everyone just ogles him, and it doesn’t make sense.”

“Being good at football makes you better looking than you already are,” Emmeline said, as though that explained it all.

“I understand that some of you feel that way, but I think being a nice bloke, not having your head up your arse and being able to hold an actual conversation about something other than football makes you more attractive.”

“You had one conversation with the boy two years ago.” Mary sighed, “You have to stop bringing it up.”

“He was sloshed.” Dorcas chimed in.

“And none of you are friends with him- with the exception of Gwen,” She said before the girl could protest. “So you can’t tell me that he’s not as conceited as his twitter feed would lead one to believe.”

Emmeline shrugged, “I always read his tweets as though he’s trying to be funny. When he writes, ‘Who’s the greatest center forward of all time?’ he’s just being cute. Not conceited.”

Lily pursed her lips and shook her head. “He tweeted out yesterday ‘Aren’t you all so lucky to have me?’ How did that not make you throw up a little in your mouth?”

“Okay that’s not really cute,” Emmeline laughed, “But we are lucky to have him.”

“All I’m saying is that a little humility would go a long way.”

They couldn’t really argue with that, but Mary did anyway. “You’re just pissed because Michael was a little bitch on air today.”

“You saw that?” Lily sighed, forgetting about James and all ready to go off about Michael, which they let her, until the commercials ended, and the game came back on. Mary motioned her over to the kitchen and leaned up against the counter.

“You alright?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m just going to be stressed out this weekend. I should be completely fine or infinitely worse come Monday night.” She grinned and Mary reached out and pinched her cheek.

“You really like, Em?” She asked, looking over at the couch and biting on the tip of her thumb, a nervous habit of hers. “Because what you said over text-“

“Mary, I was just giving you a hard time.” Lily interrupted. “She’s great. Even if she drank all the milk. It’s probably for the best since I never finish a carton and we end up with spoiled milk.” She smiled. “She’s a nice girl and she seems to like you.”

“She does seem to like me,” Mary smirked. “And I think I really like her too.”

“Good.” Lily laughed. “Now did you really find a dead fish in our flat?”

oOoOoOo

They went out after the game, which Lily had been expecting. They all got ready- Lily lent some clothes to a couple of the girls and Mary did almost everyone’s makeup after insisting that she knew what she was doing since she’d been watching nothing but makeup tutorials on YouTube for the past week.

“I’m thinking of making my own channel.” She said, though she’d already had three beers by this point, and as a rather small girl, three beers was enough for her to properly buzzed and boarding tipsy, so no one took her seriously, but since they were buzzed as well, they were enthusiastic about the idea.

When they finally made it to a pub, Lily was surprised to see that it was packed. This was their usual place, and while it could get busy, this was a bit much. Even for a Friday night. After the game, everyone usually went to a pub closer to campus. This pub was out by their flat, and yet it was packed with college age kids, and many of them looked as though they were coming from the game, wearing face paint or jerseys.

They got some drinks, miraculously found a table and then headed out to the dancefloor. Mary and Em were the first to disappear and then Hestia’s boyfriend materialized. Gwen found someone to dance with and then Dorcas excused herself to use the restroom. Lily stumbled back to her table, feeling almost relaxed now that she’d have quite a bit to drink. Her mind always seemed to be buzzing and it was rather hard to get it to quite down, but a night out helped.

“Is this seat taken?” She looked over, already rolling her eyes at the tired line.

“Yes, all the seats around this table that have jackets and purses on them are in fact, taken. Shocking, isn’t it.” She asked, raising her brow. But then she looked at the bloke who had spoken and her brows shot up even further.

“Coats and purses are inanimate. I don’t think they’ll be bothered if I get off my feet for a few. After all, I have been pretty busy all night.” James Potter smirked at her as he took Mary’s empty seat. He had a beer in his hand, his hair was all mused from the events of the night and he wore a smile that made it seem as though he and Lily were friends. Which they weren’t. Lily was more than a little surprised to see him sitting there. She’d had a few classes with him over the years and knew that he had a way of making himself at home wherever he was, but they hadn’t spoken to one another in two years. And even then it had only been one conversation- and a short one. That had gone very poorly.

“They won’t mind, but I might.” She said, shifting in her seat.

“But you might not,” He said, still smiling at her. He reached up and pulled at the collar of his shirt, the fabric sticking, parts of it grass stained.

“You didn’t think to shower before coming out?” She asked, most likely because she was on her third drink of the night and it was clear that he hadn’t decided to take a shower between winning the football game and coming out with his mates. Or alone. She didn’t see anyone that seemed to be waiting for him to come back. Though at least his presence at the pub explained why there were so many people there. He must have told a bunch of people were he was headed after the game.

“I thought about it, but then decided that it’d be a waste of water. No one has ever left a pub thinking that they didn’t need to shower. Then there’s the fact that I look rather sharp in my uniform.” He grinned, leaning a bit closer and Lily could smell the alcohol on his breath mixed with the smell of sweat. It was a common smell for someone in a pub to have, but she still leaned back. “Beside, people like to get pictures of me in my jersey.”

She narrowed. “Alright, so then why did you decide to sit down here?” She asked. They were surrounded by people who would love to be graced with his presence, but Lily was not among them.

He met her gaze and held it for a moment before turning his head and looking around the bar. “You really don’t like me, do you? You know, I think you might just be the only person on campus.” Lily snorted. “Alright, not the only person. But one of the only girls.” He said, looking back at her again.

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” Lily said, because she didn’t dislike him, she didn’t really know him. She knew that she couldn’t judge a person on one drunk conversation that was held years ago. And while he was a bit arrogant online… well, a lot of people acted one way online and a different way in real life. “I just don’t think that being able to kick a ball around a field should award you special privileges. I’m not going to act like we’re friends just because I’ve heard your name a million times. I’m treating you as though you were any other annoying bloke who decided that they can sit on my friends’ coats for the sake of chatting me up.”

“Oh, so that’s it, is it. You can’t play football.” He smirked, nudging his elbow against hers and completely ignoring the latter half of what she’d said.

Lily pulled her arm off the table and shook her head. “I can play fairly well actually, that has nothing to do with anything.” She sighed. He narrowed his eyes at her and then took another swig of his beer.

“Saying you play fairly well to someone who plays-“

“At a collegiate level. Which most people do. My dad played football in college.”

“Saying you play fairly well to someone who plays as well as I do,” He repeated himself, adding emphasis where he deemed appropriate. “Is often taken as a challenge. Is this where I invite you to the field and see if you can score on me?”

She looked at him, catching the way his lilt changed when he said ‘score.’ “No.”

“You wanna dance?” He asked completely unperturbed. Lily laughed, shaking her head.

“I’m good, I’m just waiting for my friend to come back from the loo.” But as she said that, she saw that Dorcas had found someone else to dance with on her way back to the table. That didn’t mean that Lily wanted to dance with James though.

“Are you sure? I’m a great dancer,” He grinned, taking another drink of his beer.

“I’m sure. I’m getting the feeling that you think you’re great at everything.” Again, he didn’t seem to notice what she was saying.

“I think people would like it if we dance.” He said and that piqued Lily’s curiosity.

“What? Why would other people care if I danced with you?”

He shrugged. “You’ve got quite a presence on campus. A very different presence than my own, but you have almost as many twitter followers as I do.” Lily shook her head.

“I run the twitter for the school news station.” She said shrugging. It was different, though she knew that being connected with the news station wasn’t the reason that she had so many followers. But what else was she going to say? That everyone knew her because of all the different classes she took? Because of all the different clubs and activities, she’d taken a part of over the years?

“You use your own handle though.” She could tell that he wasn’t buying it. She wondered if he followed her. She would have noticed that though, right?

“Well that’s because no one pays any attention when you preface a message with UCL News. I wanted people to listen so-“

“It’s funny. That’s what I was getting at.” He grinned. “You’re funny.”

“On twitter.”

“Not in real life?”

“No I mean, you came up to me to ask me to dance because you’re impressed by my twitter? Everyone is funny on twitter.” She laughed.

“I didn’t ask you to dance because of your twitter.”

“Well then why did you ask me to dance?” She asked, though she wished she hadn’t almost immediately. When you asked a boy that you didn’t want to dance with that question, you never got an answer that you knew what to do with.

“Because you’re fit and I want to dance with you.” He shrugged. “Have you changed your mind yet?”

“No,” She said, though she could feel herself becoming less annoyed and more amused by the minute. “You know, you’re a bit ridiculous.”

“I’ve been called worse,” He shrugged, still smirking at her. Lily laughed again, not at all surprised by that. “See, I make you laugh! The least you could do is dance with me.”

Lily pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I’m almost drunk first of all,” She said, holding up a finger, “So I’ll laugh at anything. And secondly,” Another finger. “The least I could do is not dance with you. It’s continue to talk to you even though you came over her and took my friends seat and started talking to me without invitation.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it a few times before bringing his drink up to his lips and Lily looked away feeling triumphant. “Just how bad of an impression did I leave on you?” He asked, looking over at her and bringing up the first time they’d interacted for the first time since he’d sat down. Lily was surprised that he even remembered it in the first place. “I mean Remus said that I was a right prat that night, and I believe him, but I figured you might not remember.”

“Who’s Remus? Because he has the right of things.” Lily said, taking another sip of her drink.

“He usually does. He actually works for the school newspaper.” He said, “You work with the newspaper, right?”

Lily shrugged, “If we’re doing a big piece we collaborate sometimes.” She nodded. “But I don’t normally- I mean I’ve not personally been in that part of the building.”

He nodded, “Well he told me that coming over here was a bad idea.” She looked over at him.

“Then why did you do it anyway?”

“Sirius said he was wrong,” He shrugged and then made a face and shook his head. “Well he said that you wouldn’t remember that I’d made an arse of myself last time. Though he agreed that I’d made an arse of myself last time. And then suggested that if I came over here, I’d make an arse of myself again. I took it as a challenge, but maybe I should have taken it as a warning.”

Lily didn’t know who Remus or Sirius were, but they both sounded like they had good heads on their shoulders. “Why do you remember talking to me two years ago?” She asked. “I remember it because everyone is always talking about you and to be quite honest, I’ve not had too many run-ins with blokes who’ve talked to me like that.”

“Well that’s good,” He chuckled, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I was going for, but I guess saying I’m drunk isn’t exactly an excuse. I’m sorry.” He said, looking her in the eye again. She pursed her lips and finished her drink. “I don’t normally talk to people like that.”

“Well thank you for apologizing,” She said, not sure what else she should say on the matter. “Did Gwen say something to you?” She asked, not sure what had spurred this. “Is that why you’re here?”

“You know Gwen?” He asked, brightening up a bit now that he was no longer trying to look contrite for his apology.

“Obviously, since I just ask you if she talked to you.” She said, wishing that she hadn’t finished her drink already. James noticed her fiddling with an empty glass and jumped to his feet.

“I’ll get you another drink,” He said, looking even more lit up now that he’d set a task for himself.

“You don’t need to-“ But he was already on his way to the bar and Lily closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. She wasn’t sure what was going on. Why was James Potter sitting next to her at a pub after one of his games? Why was he apologizing to her and buying her drinks and asking her to dance with him? None of this made much sense.

He came back with a new drink for both of them and Lily thanked him, still feeling a bit off kilter. She looked around, waiting to see one of her friends giving her some sort of single to let her know that they were behind this.

“So, do you like working at the station?” He asked, re-taking Mary’s seat for himself, this time angling himself more toward Lily, who was still sitting facing forward.

“Yes, I do like it.”

“It must be fun to get to be on the telly every other night.” He grinned.

“I enjoy it.” She nodded, looking over at him and trying to gauge what was going through her mind. It wasn’t uncommon for blokes to try and chat her up, but he seemed a bit more persistent than usual. And it wasn’t as though he didn’t have other options. Other options who wouldn’t be giving him clipped short responses because they couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t left yet.

“Do you- I mean I know that you’re an anchor, but do you help with the writing of the show too? Or is that a different job?”

It was public knowledge that she was an anchor, as she did have quite a few people following her on twitter, and she posted clips of the broadcast quite frequently. Even if only twelve people watched, she was still proud of the work that her team did. “I do a bit of everything.” She said, “I’m majoring in digital media and so I like to try my hand at all the different parts.”

“I really liked the story you all did about the- oh what was it- top ten places to nap in the library. I know it was just a fun little piece, but it was funny,” He laughed. “And I totally agree with you about the best place to get coffee on campus. Definitely Hoppers.”

She sat up straighter and looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You- You watch the show?” She asked, not sure exactly what it was she was feeling in that moment. Confusion seemed to be a theme of this conversation.

“Oh yeah,” He nodded. “I’m a student at UCL aren’t I? Why wouldn’t I watch it?”

It was Lily’s turn to gap for a moment and then she shook her head. “No one watches it.” She said. “Well twelve people watch it actually, but that’s basically no one and you’re telling me that you watch the show.”

“Twelve people?” He raised his brow, surprised to hear that. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“We get a couple hundred views on the clips I post to our website, but only twelve people watch the actual broadcast.” She repeated. “Only twelve people sit down and watch the entire broadcast and you’re telling me that you’re one of them?”

He shifted in his chair now. “Well I don’t catch every episode. It’s the Friday one’s that I normally miss since were right before our game- but it’s always on in the locker room.”

“Is it the only channel that you get?” She was aghast.

He laughed and shook his head, “No, it’s just what we have on. You have a good show-“

“I know that it’s a good show.” She said, putting her hands up. “My surprise isn’t because I think that we don’t have a good show. We all do a great job with editing and writing and I’m even impressed with the lighting most nights. But no one watches. Working for UCL News is to get experience and learn how everything works more than anything else. Michael used a few reels for his resume, but- You really watch?”

“I’m quite glad that Michael is done.” James sighed, ignoring her repeated question as he’d already answered it. “The two of you were always professional, but he was so stiff half the time and he never delivered the lines right when the two of you were trying to have a bit of repartee on air.” Lily couldn’t say anything to that. She agreed of course, he was right, but she couldn’t say anything because she was still flabbergasted that James Potter of all people, watched the show.

“Who’s going to be on now that he’s gone?” He asked.

Lily shrugged, clearing her throat so she could speak. “I’m not sure yet. He was supposed to be here through the end of the upcoming week, but decided to have tonight be his last show and now we’re without a second anchor. We’re holding auditions on Sunday but it’s all rather last minute.” She said.

“Sunday.” He nodded. “Well whoever you get has to be more fun than Michael, right? I mean what was it that he said right as you were signing off? He was the best part of the show? That’s a load of shite.”

“I thought you said you don’t watch on Friday.”

“I also said that it was on in the locker room.” He shrugged.

“You did say that.” Lily nodded, now chewing on her lip.

“So you view it as practice then? You want to be an anchor?”

“Yeah, sure.” She shrugged, not really wanting to talk about her future plans with her.

“You think I could be on one night?” He asked and Lily chuckled.

“I told you, only twelve people watch the show.” She said. “If you’re on the show, only eleven people would watch.”

“You said that it was good practice though.” He argued. “And I need some practice time on air. If I plan to keep playing football then I’ll eventually be interviewed, and I’d rather my first time not be in front of the entire nation or something like that.”

Lily took a drink from the drink that he’d brought her and shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” She said. “We’ve had student athletes on before. They were usually in one of the digital media classes or journalism classes, but still.”

“That’s awesome. Thanks, Lily.” He said, grinning at her again. She gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. “So, you want to dance now?” He asked, and Lily rolled her eyes.

“I think I’m still good.” She said, pushing herself away from the table. “I’ve got to go and check on my friends.”

“Alright,” He got up from the table as well. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”

She didn’t catch that, or she would have turned around to correct him.